#commander kruge

[trek-tracks]

There should have been a version of TNG's "Time's Arrow" where they run into Doc Brown in the late 1800s, but everyone's confused because wasn't he a Klingon?

[mrthemovieman]

A Fighting Chance To Live...

[tough-n-dumb]

#1 kanej pls. preferably pre-book 1 or even show verse but whatever works best!

thank you!! your wish is my command :) set pre-book 1 (i did change the phrasing of the prompt just a little bit just to fit the flow better, imo) i'm sorry it took a couple days to get to this. i had a difficult time deciding on what exactly i wanted to write and this is not quite the fluff i thought it was gonna be lol. hope you enjoy it anyway!

1. “Oh my God. You’re in love with her.” (Kanej)

(Content warning: references to Inej's time at the Menagerie)

The front door to the Slat slammed open and Kaz quickly ushered Jesper and Inej inside—the latter hanging onto the former for support and limping from a deep and bloody gash in her thigh.

"Get her upstairs—"

"Kaz, I'm fine—"

"Should we get—"

All three of their voices, speaking at once, were drowned out by a bellow from the first floor office and the man within it.

“Brekker!" Haskell shouted. "Get your ass in here!”

Kaz shot Jesper a hard and uncompromising look. "Upstairs. Now," he hissed under his breath. The two of them disappeared into the stairwell with quick nods. He didn't miss the way Inej's face contorted in pain; how a slight whine left her lips as she took halting steps forward.

Kaz stepped into Haskell’s office, barely held together restraint kept in every movement. Haskell was not as committed to this show of will.

"Would you like to tell me why the hell the stadwatch was here tearing apart the Slat not one bell ago? What did you do you little skiv?"

"I didn't do anything," Kaz grit out. "I told you we didn't have enough manpower to do this job the right way but you said—"

"Oh, don't try to put words in my mouth."

Kaz took a deep breath and folded his hands over the head of his cane. "Sir," he began, the formality sickly on his tongue, "if I may. This job was set up to go wrong from the start. We're lucky no one took a harder hit. That we didn’t lose anyone.”

When we had first seen Inej stumbling down the alley and coated in blood, he wasn't so sure that would be the case. Even in the dim glow of the street lamps he could see the ashen cast to her face. She’d been moments from dropping before Jesper careened around the corner and scooped her up into his arms, motioning frantically for Kaz to start running.

"The Wraith took a pretty serious hit."

Haskell perked up at that. "She's fine though, yes? I spent a lot of kruge on her and I expect to get my money's worth."

“Yes,” Kaz said too quickly, too confidently. But gnawing fear—fear he hated—settled deep within him. “That remains to be seen,” he corrected. And if she isn’t, I’ll have your head on a pike outside the Exchange.

“Good. Though if she ever can’t work as a spider anymore, at least we know she can make us money on her back,” Haskell said with a wink.

Maybe it was the sting of the Dime Lions and the stadwatch officers they'd paid off getting the drop on them tonight. Or maybe it was the way Jesper had been able to help Inej when he couldn't; when he could only stand there useless, shaking at the thought of another person he lov— he valued losing their life to his folly. But Haskell's words—useless garble he could usually tune out—broke a dam within Kaz.

“If you ever,” he spat viciously, “imply you’ll send her back to a pleasure house again, I’ll make you watch as I feed your shriveled cock and balls to the nearest pack of rats.”

Haskell’s face went slack, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. But it was quickly replaced by a dawning realization that lit up his eyes, clarity replacing the cloudiness of perpetual drink. He looked gleeful.

"Ghezen, boy! You're in love with her, aren't you?" Haskell laughed heartily, slapping a hand on his thigh. "Of course Dirtyhands would fall for his whore. Though I didn’t think you’d have it in you.” His smile was wide and grotesque, a suggestive eyebrow raised on his sweat slicked brow. The room seemed to narrow, the shadows gaining sharper contrast. Haskell continued chuckling to himself.

"She isn't mine and she isn't a whore.” The rasp of Kaz’s voice hid the way it rattled with anger. “She's one of your crew, a Dreg, and I caution you to remember that." It took everything within Kaz to keep his breathing level; his tone stern but placid. He sculpted his face into a wall of impassivity but his blood boiled and churned. If he didn't leave Haskell's office soon, his fist might accidentally find a target in the man before him.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think she's sweet on you too. Though it's always hard to tell with those girls, especially Heleen's. She trains them so well, you know."

Kaz let his cane clatter to the ground and lunged at Haskell—one hand planted firmly on the desk and the other wrapped around his cheap, gaudy tie—and tugged until the older man was half-sprawled on the desk.

"Are you sure this is a conversation you want to have?" He yanked on the tie harder and Haskell made a choked, gurgling noise. "Because I can assure you it'll end with you losing a hell of a lot more blood than Inej has tonight."

Kaz released him with a hard shove, the jarring momentum sending Haskell tumbling backward in his chair and crashing to the ground. Kaz didn't wait for a response, just grabbed his cane from the floor and shoved the door open hard, the hinges groaning with force.

A handful of Dregs stood statue-still in the common room, eyes bulging. He saw Pim open his mouth to say something before Anika promptly smacked him upside the head and pulled him and Rotty away.

The trudge up the stairs was long and laborious, his breath coming in hard pants that weren't entirely from the climb and his aching leg. He paused on the third floor landing outside of Inej's room and heard gentle murmuring coming from the other side of the door. Jesper said something he couldn't catch, and Inej let out a tinkling laugh that made Kaz's heart jump.

He stood frozen, tempted to knock—tempted to burst into her room and see with his own eyes that she was okay, that she forgave him for the night's errors. He didn't.

what's the job and what went wrong? idk! just go with it! thanks for reading! again, this is pretty different than what i initially planned and it's still a bit rough, but i hope it was still a satisfying read!

fic prompt meme

[dollsahoy]

Harrison Ford was Spielberg's original choice to play Eddie Valiant, but his price was too high. Chevy Chase was the second choice, but he was not interested. Bill Murray was also considered for the role, but due to his idiosyncratic method of receiving offers for roles, Murray missed out on it. Eddie Murphy reportedly turned down the role as he misunderstood the concept of toons and humans co-existing; he later regretted this decision. Robin Williams, Robert Redford, Jack Nicholson, Sylvester Stallone, Edward James Olmos, Wallace Shawn, Ed Harris, Charles Grodin and Don Lane were also considered for the role. Ultimately, Bob Hoskins was chosen by Spielberg because of his acting skill and because Spielberg believed he had a hopeful demeanor and he looked like he belonged in that era. To facilitate Hoskins' performance, Charles Fleischer dressed in a Roger Rabbit costume and "stood in" behind camera for most scenes. Williams explained Roger was a combination of "Tex Avery's cashew nut-shaped head, the swatch of red hair... like Droopy's, Goofy's overalls, Porky Pig's bow tie, Mickey Mouse's gloves, and Bugs Bunny-like cheeks and ears." Kathleen Turner provided the uncredited voice of Jessica Rabbit, Roger Rabbit's wife. Tim Curry auditioned for the role of Judge Doom, but was rejected because the producers found him too terrifying. Christopher Lee was also considered for the role, but turned it down. John Cleese also expressed interest for the role, but was deemed not scary enough. Peter O'Toole, F. Murray Abraham, Roddy McDowall, Eddie Deezen and Sting were also considered for the role. Christopher Lloyd was cast because he previously worked with Zemeckis and Spielberg on Back to the Future. He compared his part as Doom to his previous role as the Klingon commander Kruge in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, both overly evil characters which he considered "fun to play". He avoided blinking his eyes while on camera to portray the character.

[defconprime]

Commander Kruge, Klingon

[bookworm-center]

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender: Introduction

Author's Note: Decided I want to post my Kaz Brekker x fem!reader on here! It's currently on Wattpad under the title of "Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender" if any one wants to look.

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender

Introduction

They say Kaz Brekker doesn't need a reason.

Most say he would kill a man by hitting his head in and watching him bleed to death, simply for the fun of it.

I knew better than most. Kaz Brekker always had a reason. Usually for kruge, or revenge or sometimes blackmail, but a reason nonetheless.

How do I know? I'm his second in command. Most assume that spot belongs to Inej, (after all, what is Dirtyhands without his Wraith?) but the Dregs closest to him know that the spot beside him is mine and mine alone.

And who am I exactly, you're likely wondering. Well that's something I suppose you'll find out on your own. All you need to know now is that I am not Kaz's right hand woman for nothing; I am dangerous and not many dare cross me, but those that do don't often make it out alive to regret it. And those that escape me tell the tale of my wraith in hushed whispers throughout the crowded masses of Ketterdam, calling me by the name "the Bloodbender".

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You, 1 Of The Most Legendary Funniest American Actor Of The 1960s In Cinema 🎥 & Tv 📺 & More Of The Century

Lloyd was born on October 22, 1938, in Stamford, Connecticut, the son of Ruth Lloyd (née Lapham; 1896–1984), a singer and sister of San Francisco mayor Roger Lapham, and her lawyer husband Samuel R. Lloyd Jr. (1897–1959). He is the youngest of three boys and four girls, one of whom, Samuel Lloyd, was an actor in the 1950s and 1960s. Lloyd's maternal grandfather, Lewis Henry Lapham, was one of the founders of the Texaco oil company and Lloyd is also a descendant of Mayflower passengers, including John Howland. Lloyd was raised in Westport, Connecticut, where he attended Staples High School and was involved in founding the high school's theater company, the Staples Players.

He is an American actor. He has appeared in many theater productions, films, and on television since the 1960s. He is known for portraying Dr. Emmett "Doc" Brown in the Back to the Future trilogy (1985–1990) and Jim Ignatowski in the comedy series Taxi (1978–1983), for which he won two Emmy Awards.

Lloyd came to public attention in Northeastern theater productions during the 1960s and early 1970s, earning Drama Desk and Obie awards for his work. He made his cinematic debut in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) and went on to star as Commander Kruge in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984), Professor Plum in Clue (1985), Judge Doom in Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), Uncle Fester in The Addams Family (1991) and its sequel Addams Family Values (1993), Switchblade Sam in Dennis the Menace (1993), Mr. Goodman in Piranha 3D (2010), Bill Crowley in I Am Not a Serial Killer (2016) and David Mansell in Nobody (2021).

Lloyd earned a third Emmy for his 1992 guest appearance as Alistair Dimple in Road to Avonlea (1992), and won an Independent Spirit Award for his performance in Twenty Bucks (1993). He has done extensive voice work, including Merlock in DuckTales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp (1990), Grigori Rasputin in Anastasia (1997), the Hacker in the PBS Kids series Cyberchase (2002–present), which earned him Daytime Emmy nominations, and the Woodsman in the Cartoon Network miniseries Over the Garden Wall (2014).

Please Wish This Legendary Funny Actor Of The 1960s Of Cinema 🎥 & Tv 📺 & Other Forms Of Entertainment A Very Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊

YOU KNOW HIM

YOU LOVE HIM

& HIS VOICE IS ICONIC THROUGHOUT THE WORLD 🌎

THE 1 & ONLY

MR. CHRISTOPHER ALLEN LLYOD👴 AKA DOCTOR EMMETT BROWN OF THE BACK TO THE FUTURE TRILOGY 👴🚗🕐⏩

#ChristopherLlyod #DocEmmettBrown #Taxi #BackToTheFuture #Anastasia #TheAddamsFamily #WhoFramedRogerRabbit #Cyberchase #SpiritHalloweenTheMovie

[departmentq]

A reminder that in Star Trek III, Kruge's officer was named Maltz. He could could have commanded, “bring me a chocolate, Maltz”

ferengi character named quo so that everytime their boss checks in on them they go “what’s the status quo?”

[pointy-eared-hobgoblins]

[mrthemovieman]

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Christopher Lloyd as Commander Kruge - Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984)

[defconprime]

Commander Kruge

[visd3stele]

The child of moon and stars

please read the notes here before proceeding

tw: barely implied SA

Chapter 1: One awfully typical wednesday

We are all villains in someone else's stories. Hard to digest, this one piece of truth. But I can't exactly complain. I bet my blood those slavers who just crossed the veil between our world and the next did so not believing me a saint. Shadows still lurked over their bodies when one of the Dreg's man called for me.

"Schatten!" Shadow. The name the town has given me what seemed like ages ago. "Boss wants you in his office. Now."

"Tell him to wait, I've got one more stop for the night," I throw over my shoulder. Kaz sent me to fetch the new weapons and my quick, unplanned fight with a crew of human's sellers already slowed me down. Not enough to be a problem yet, but I had no time to spare for Per Haskell and his crap.

Before the guy could comment on my statement, I curled and flicked my fingers. The shadows wrapped around me, shielding me from prying eyes and I vanished down the street, right past my collegue. The angry grunt he let out, paired with the cursing of my name in both Kerch and Shu brought a smirk to my face. The man is a good gambler, strong in street fights, quick at pocketing the pigeons. Hell! He even stepped in and replaced Rojakke after Inej fired him. But the man was loyal to Pekka. Old generation, following the old idiot out of some sense of honor. In Ketterdam? Delusional.

When I joined the Dregs, however, it was made clear who runs the reins. And even if I didn't have to stick around the better, bigger, brighter guy to survive, I'd still be loyal to Kaz over anyone else. The devilish boy earned my loyalty as I earned his. But that's old news and if I drift down the memory lane I risk too much. Always keep your focus in the Barrel; permit no distraction on a job were the first things I learned in here. And after five years, I cannot allow such stupid mistakes on my part.

I let go of the armour of darkness and lose myself in the crowded street. Until I reached my destination, my fingers fished some wallets out of ignorants' pockets. I took the kruge out and tossed the wallets in other pigeons' coats. By the time they realized they've been robbed, I'd be far and the incriminatory proof someone else's concern.

"Good evening, mister Haal." I mock a military salute as soon as I see my supplier outside a deserted bar. The man sneered in his wrinkled Stadwatch uniform. Everyone has a price, was the second thing I learned, you just need to find it and use it. Poor mister Haal here, for example, has a thing going on with his commander's son. Seeing the modest situation of the Stadwatch officer – a nickle of sand compared to his commander's – the latter wouldn't be too happy to hear about such a sickly sweet rendezvous. Hence the agreement mister Haal had to sign with me.

"Coming from your prince, I take it?" My tease only made him grunt some more. "I'm terribly sorry I had to take you from him. But business is business."

"That's all what this Saints forsaken town is about," Haal mumbled bitterly. My nostrils flared and I felt the muscles in my tight jaws flex involuntarily.

"Yeah," I breathed heavily. "It is. Either adapt or perish, so –" I stretched my arms. An inovensive geture, to be honest. I had no other motive behind it than express the hopelessness of the situation. It is how it is and unfortunately there's nothing to be done. "Which one shall it be tonight?"

Haal stumbled backwards, eyeing my hands in desperate worry. He's right to be cautious, of course. But fear usualy makes people work slower when they have time to think about it. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, actually."

He gulped and nodded, leading me away from the ruined building. The streets in these part are worse than the rest. Defected lamps give way for crimes after crimes, misery and decay. Good people lock themselves in their shacky homes since hours before sundown. Better safe than sorry, because if not, the price is too high.

My breath gets blocked in my throat as my heart fasten its beat. Irregular pulsations either numb my limbs or sent them in a unstoppable trembling. I try to blink away the tears, shake off the dread, the panic and the shame. Nausea makes its way in my mouth along with the same menacing voice chanting in the back of my mind. Should've fight harder. Surrounded by darkness and still failed to protect yourself.

"You coming?"

I called and the darkness answered. I felt each shadow readying for my command. The power under my skin, the feeling in my blood, uniting my being with something so close to nature and its creation. The waves of the shadows, that only I could tell apart from the darkness of the night, gave me a strong sense of comfort. Now I had access to my gift. Now I wasn't defenseless. Haven't been so in years and won't be ever again.

"Yes. Of course." I followed him after a corner, acknowledging the dead end, the leaking pipes I could use to climb up and run if need be and the narrow door at the farther end of the wall on my left.

Haal fumbled with a ring of keys until he found the one he needed and opened the door. "Ladies first," he tried to be a gentleman. In Ketterdam? Useless.

I arched a raven eyebrow, fixing him with two mercury flames guarded by long lashes. "You're stupider than I thought if you imagine I'd step in there before you."

Fear took over his features again. As soon as the door opened I extended the tendrils of my Grisha power, searching the dark room for any threat or trap. None found, hence Haal still breathed fine, if a bit exctatic, next to me. But he didn't need to know exactly what I can do with my shadows.

I think, however, that his thought process didn't differ mine too much. As a Stadwatch, he too would have been instructed. And wouldn't turn his back to a potential enemy. Despite trading weapons for months, at the end of the day I was still Dirtyhands' right hand and he, an officer.

Seeing I don't yield, and no doubt eager to return to his boyfriend before the commander comes home, Haal led the way.

"Where's my stash?"

"These boxes here," the officer was quick to point out when my eyes darted around the room. When I caught wind of his role in the arms importing departament of the Stadwatch, I knew Haal would be perfect to assist the Dregs. Every time a new ship came to shore, loaded with all sorts of weapons, the young officer was to make sure I get my hands on some of each the first.

"You picked them for me?" I asked increduloues.

"I thought it'd save us some time. They're the best, I swear on my life."

A humph left my mouth as I looked inside the boxes set aside. I couldn't be sure until I have a look at the rest as well, obviously, but these seemed to be in the best shape indeed. "What about your boyfriend's?"

"What?"

"You're so willing to swear on your life, but what about your boyfriend's life? Would you swear on that too?"

"Leave hin out of this, Schatten!"

"Sorry, dearest mister Haal. I can't, you see," I turn to look at him, a fake apology in my voice. "Because if you trick me, then I'd have to settle the score. And I can't harm you, it'd create the trouble of finding another one to do your job, so..."

I trailled my voice, giving him the chance to catch on what I meant. To his credit, Haal did. His eyes widened, his fists bowled and he set his burning eyes on me. But as no one dies from a glare, I only bit out a swift laugh.

"Anger doesn't suit you. Now get to work and open the other boxes. I'm not dealing in half done jobs."

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You,  1 Of The Most Legendary Funniest American Actor Of The 1960s In Cinema 🎥  & Tv 📺 & More Of The Century

Lloyd was born on October 22, 1938, in Stamford, Connecticut, the son of Ruth Lloyd (née Lapham; 1896–1984), a singer and sister of San Francisco mayor Roger Lapham, and her lawyer husband Samuel R. Lloyd Jr. (1897–1959). He is the youngest of three boys and four girls, one of whom, Samuel Lloyd, was an actor in the 1950s and 1960s. Lloyd's maternal grandfather, Lewis Henry Lapham, was one of the founders of the Texaco oil company and Lloyd is also a descendant of Mayflower passengers, including John Howland. Lloyd was raised in Westport, Connecticut, where he attended Staples High School and was involved in founding the high school's theater company, the Staples Players.

He is an American actor. He has appeared in many theater productions, films, and on television since the 1960s. He is known for portraying Dr. Emmett "Doc" Brown in the Back to the Future trilogy (1985–1990) and Jim Ignatowski in the comedy series Taxi (1978–1983), for which he won two Emmy Awards.

Lloyd came to public attention in Northeastern theater productions during the 1960s and early 1970s, earning Drama Desk and Obie awards for his work. He made his cinematic debut in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) and went on to star as Commander Kruge in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984), Professor Plum in Clue (1985), Judge Doom in Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), Uncle Fester in The Addams Family (1991) and its sequel Addams Family Values (1993), Switchblade Sam in Dennis the Menace (1993), Mr. Goodman in Piranha 3D (2010), Bill Crowley in I Am Not a Serial Killer (2016) and David Mansell in Nobody (2021).

Lloyd earned a third Emmy for his 1992 guest appearance as Alistair Dimple in Road to Avonlea (1992), and won an Independent Spirit Award for his performance in Twenty Bucks (1993). He has done extensive voice work, including Merlock in DuckTales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp (1990), Grigori Rasputin in Anastasia (1997), the Hacker in the PBS Kids series Cyberchase (2002–present), which earned him Daytime Emmy nominations, and the Woodsman in the Cartoon Network miniseries Over the Garden Wall (2014).

Please Wish This Legendary Funny Actor Of The 1960s Of Cinema 🎥 & Tv 📺 & Other Forms Of Entertainment A Very Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊

YOU KNOW HIM

YOU LOVE HIM

& HIS VOICE IS ICONIC THROUGHOUT THE WORLD 🌎

THE 1 & ONLY

MR. CHRISTOPHER ALLEN LLYOD👴 AKA DOCTOR EMMETT BROWN OF THE BACK TO THE FUTURE TRILOGY 👴🚗🕐⏩ 

HAPPY 85TH BIRTHDAY 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 TO YOU MR. LLYOD & HERES TO MANY MORE YEARS TO COME #ChristopherLlyod #DocEmmettBrown #Taxi #BackToTheFuture #Anastasia #TheAddamsFamily #WhoFramedRogerRabbit #Cyberchase #SpiritHalloweenTheMovie

[southslates]

full in all your veins

@kanejweek day one: mythology (soulmates) / kanej / one-shot - rated T / read on ao3! / 1545 words

Kaz teaches Inej how to read Kerch uncharacteristically, patiently. She sits at his window, on his floor, and he tosses books at her. Between doing the Crow Club’s numbers and dreaming of revenge, he listens to her speak his language and make it her own, like so much more. On her tongue, the dreary words he’s spent his whole life fitting into his mouth flow like water down the mouth of the Beurscanal.

He tells himself that he does this because it is what makes sense. Inej is always in his rooms, and it is necessary that his best spider read Kerch. She’s a quick study, a quick study with the knives, with the letters, with hearts. She’s been with the Dregs for barely a month and she has their respect; she is like him, who knows that’s enough. He’s seen the brass knuckles she keeps in her pocket, stained at the tips. He’d told her he couldn’t promise her safety. He told the truth. He doesn’t know why there’s an ache in his chest which contests that.

One day, she sits on his desk as he’s filing papers. She’s feet away from him—he couldn’t reach out and touch her. It’s closer than he lets most people get, but he knows she will not touch him. She will not even try. He doesn’t want her to try.

He doesn’t.

“Kaz,” Inej asks, “can you . . . can you read my mark?”

“You have a mark?” he asks, without calculation, in surprise. There is something cold creeping down his spine, Jordie’s voice whispering in his ear, asking him what exactly he’d thought of in the dredges of his mind, what he’d dared hope for. She is good, the voice says, have you looked at yourself in the mirror, monster?

Kaz shoves it down into a box he doesn’t want to open. Inej is barely a friend. She’s pretty, but he can take his eyes off her. This kind of desire is the one thing he cannot conquer, and he is not one to abet his weaknesses. He will ignore this, and he will best it.

“I got it in the Menagerie,” she says quietly, and he suddenly regrets his snapping. That can only mean so much. “I don’t want to know who, if it’s terrible. And I don’t—I don’t know who came there. Could you tell me?”

Kaz Brekker has no room for weakness, no room for soulmarks and the tales his father had spoken into existence on cold Lij nights. His father and his mother had not shared the mark, never had letters carved into their skins. Few did—there were far too many people in the world, from Fjerda to Ravka to Novyi Zem, for most to meet theirs.

He knows the world is cruel, but his opinion of it sinks lower and he finds himself needing to hold his breath as he considers that Inej—who he can admit is fundamentally good—was cursed with the mark of someone who came to the Menagerie. At best, the name will be that of a married Kerch man—at worst, a rapist.

“Kaz?” Inej asks again. She seems vulnerable, and Kaz allows himself this concession. He breathes out as though he’s exhausted, as though his heart is not beating through his chest, and nods at her with a scowl.

“Show me,” he says gruffly. He can’t hold in his shiver as she lifts up her leg and shows him the side of it. She is feet away, he thinks, looking at her skin, smooth and brown and gorgeous and disgusting, and you are weak. It’s just flesh.

He focuses on the letter and the word carved into her skin. He wonders if it would be Charles Loeder or Petjer Sasker—he will tell her the truth.

But the mark tattooed into Inej in glaring white, in Kerch, is not the name of a rich mercher, a slaver, a man meant for hell. It’s a silent name, and it makes Kaz reach for the gun beside him.

“Is it that bad?” Inej asks.

Kaz looks away from it as quickly as he can, sees the tears welling in her eyes. “It’s . . .”

One pushes over. She will eventually be able to read it as he can, so he tells as much of the truth as he can muster. “I’ve never heard of them, so they can’t be the worst of the lot.”

“Kaz,” she shudders out. “What does it say?”

“K Rietveld,” he breathes out. “This is a waste of time. Go get Jesper.”

He turns back to his papers as she turns with a small sniffle and leaves out the window. There is a single tear where she sat on his desk, and he stares at it for a long moment before grabbing his cane and stalking out of the attic. Surely there’s someone in the club who needs to be roughed up tonight.

/

Kaz searches his body for words, words in places he might have missed. He twists in the mirror, his shirt off, so close to drowning for so long, until he notices the white letters written in an unfamiliar script at the small of his back.

He goes to the university library and steals a global translator’s book, and then he spends hours trying to read the letters. He knows what they will say, but he needs confirmation. He needs—

When the club’s latest dealer skims thousands of kruge out from under Jesper’s unwatchful eyes, Kaz takes him to the Dregs’ backroom and breaks his wrists. He means to rough up the Suli man and then let him go—Kaz Brekker always has a reason—but a little boy dancing in rain puddles in Lij dances in front of his consciousness, hurts his heart. He takes off his shirt and stands with his back to the man, his skin crawling with insects, dead hands in every crevice of the pale flesh which hasn’t seen the sun in years. “Read that,” he commands.

“I,” the man stutters out the first letter. He’s lost teeth, and his mouth is a bloody mess. “Ghafa.”

The man works—worked for the Dregs, so he’s well aware of who the Wraith is. His eyes grow large before Kaz takes his cane and shoves the end of it into his mouth, and then quickly shoots what’s left of his face. He crumbles to the floor, a mess of blood and gore, and Kaz stalks back to his room. On his way, he tells Pim to take the body out.

“Why did you kill Saran?” Inej asks at night in his window. He can hear the heart-hurt in her voice, so he ignores her. She jumps off in a huff, and he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care.

/

“Johannes Rietveld,” Inej repeats the name he’d given Colm Fahey to him slowly, like an incantation. “Rietveld.”

“Yes.” Kaz doesn’t look at her. He looks at the bandages, at the wound at her shoulder. That fucking net.

“Tell me,” Inej asks him. Her breath catches, and he feels himself move in-synch with her, the same souls, the same heartbeat. He wants to let this go, he wants to let her go, he never wants to let her go.

He doesn’t say anything. He leans back and takes off his shirt, his undershirt, the layers of cloth he uses to armor himself, and then he takes in a deep breath and lets the rest of the gold shake off too.

She is sitting on the bathroom sink, so he turns to her. He can hear her gasp when she sees the white etched into his back, in swirling Suli script. It’s a quiet sound, but to him, it’s a melody. He feels it reverberate in his chest. It pains, it feels like death, it feels like salvation.

“Okay,” Inej says simply, and he turns around to face her. He is vulnerable like this, so vulnerable, planes of scarred skin in front of her eyes. He has trusted Inej with his pride, but never his shame. But he has faith in her convictions. “Why?”

She is looking at him, he is not looking at her. He thinks the world has stopped spinning, that it could end like this, him just steps away from the circle of her arms. He is so close and yet he is eons away. To move closer, he needs to admit a weakness.

“You deserve him,” he says simply. “And he’s dead.”

It happens slowly, the pressure against his face. He’s looking down, and Inej wraps her fingers in bandages, ripped from his shirt, and places them against his face. The fabric is crisp, and cool, and he finds himself wanting more, wanting nothing.

She’d told him she wanted him without armor.

He raises his eyes to her, because he is Kaz Brekker, and he is going to fight for her—for him—for them.

“I think you’re worth saving, Kaz,” Inej says quietly, tracing his cheekbones. She is bleeding out on the sink, and he thinks this is what religion must feel like. “Kaz Rietveld.”

He looks into her eyes, puts down her hand, grabs her bandages and decides he is going to finish the story written into his soul.