#quite the opposite of what inej does for jesper in this

[climb-inej]

@esotericdescent : “ We’re a team, aren’t we? Teams stick together. Even when the leader is being a prick.” jesper to inej

🗡 Inej always joked that she had learned to manage her expectations when it came to the arrangements in Jesper's room and all that could be found within it. They all knew to expect the unexpected, because he stored all sorts of trinkets. He had it all, from collections of ridiculous, multicoloured hats to stolen pots for plants he never grew to the tiniest of glittering pins for his vests.

Anything was expected be found in this room.

Anything but a crying boy.

Inej had only caught but a sliver of Jesper's argument with Kaz after returning to the Slat, but before she could make sense of the situation, they had both already turned away. Then there was the sound of thudding footsteps up the stairs, followed by a door getting slammed shut only to creak open again.

It had been the third sound, however, that made her stop in her tracks, just before she could reach her own room.

Weeping.

Not an unfamiliar sort of noise in the slightest but still so, so rare.

Before she knew it, Inej had gravitated towards that door, still ajar, but did not try to peer into Jesper's room.

Out of sheer habit, Inej's focus shifted from the sight of this unlocked door to her knowledge of the wide window that Jesper usually left open to the fact that if she chose to slip into his room, he would not hear her coming.

And then the sobbing quietened and she was back in her own consciensce and terribly ashamed.

This was no target, no careless merchant inviting her in to have his secrets stolen. This was Jesper, and she would only offer him her presence if he allowed it first.

So Inej raised a hand and reached out towards his door, asking for that acceptance with no more than three gentle knocks.

-

For a few minutes, Jesper wouldn't speak, wouldn't look at her, so Inej kept a respectful distance and a steady focus on the empty and partially cracked flower pot on his windowsill.

She felt the most pressing urge to buy him some flower seeds, only to then realize that no such thing could take root within the ruthless cold of Ketterdam and survive under the grey of its sky.

She heard Jesper sniffle, tried to remember if she had ever seen him cry before. Did it even matter? She knew that his feelings had been as such for a while now and still she could do nothing to free him from his anguish. A few visible tears would not change that, for it was a sort of anguish that they shared and she, too, remained entrapped by it. So she waited.

His reply came, as it often did, through an understatement as phrased through a surprisingly touching and, admittedly, quite funny joke; a subtle sign that he was ready for her to finally look at him.

Since he had been seated at the edge of his mattress when she had come in, Inej had also sat on the floor, right next to the door that she had properly shut; but now she scooted closer, close enough for her knee to brush against his.

Silence settled. Their eyes met.

"There are moments when I wish I could resent him more so I could dishearten you less."

In that moment, she thought she caught another glimpse of a tear glistening upon his cheek, and her heart ached.

But this was already too much vulnerability for them both to handle so quickly. So Inej tried to balance things out with a joke of her own, just as she reached a hesitant hand out to hold onto his.

"Let me steal you away," she said with a gentle smile. "I'll carry you across the rooftops so the stars themselves can see just how wonderful you are. I'll take you with me everywhere."

She squeezed his hand, her thumb rubbing circles over his knuckles.

"And then you'll start moving too much and I'll probably drop you and we'll fall together. We'll end up in some Barrel alleyway with broken arms and dislocated shoulders. And even though we'll both be careless pricks, shattered and bruised and stubborn to no end, we'll still be a team."

Her smile faded and was soon replaced by a certain bitter emphasis in her eyes.

"The injury will vary every time, Jesper, but even if I'm hurting alongside you, you will never owe me your pain. You do not owe anyone your pain. And if it gets too much. . . you have every right to walk away. For I would much rather see you unharmed from a distance than settle for the comfort of your company as we both suffer."

[lilisouless]

"Wylan and Kaz would have becoming each other" controversy, opening.

"Should we been doing this?"

"Controversy" just to make it more dramatic cause it´s not really a big deal.

I want to thank everyone who responded to the post

It got more responses that i expected, some of you put way better explained arguments that i could have said, and i think we are all actually on the same chanel. So, instead of a long argument that just will repeat what everyone said i will include pieces of the essays and divide the huge deal for parts cause i think it´s a bigger study than we think. This is just the opening so it´s going to be a short one.

like the title said, the very first section will be "should we be doing this" so i´ll add this sample of @savethegrishaverse, who had a bigger response, i will probably use the rest of the argument in later sections:

To me, Kaz & Wylan aren´t that similar, to me there´s a diference between kid!Wylan and kid!Kaz, but thats a story for another section. The important here is that the narrative wants us to see the similarities.

Cause sure, you can always compare two characters, it´s a harmless practice. The question here is, is it deliberate? or did people took the dynamic out of a fandom sentiment?

To me, yes , it´s pretty much deliberate. And my response may be a bit shallow but stay with me here: The desing choices

For those who don't know, in book canon Kaz has dark hair and brown eyes. Wylan has blue eyes and light red-gold curly hair. This is because it may be confusing to people that only know Jack!Wolfe´s Wylan for this argument, since he was hired out of talent instead of a comparision to his features with Freddy Carter´s

Now what i mean? Both Kaz and Wyan are from Kerch but their features are opposite. Kaz has dark eyes (with some warmt,but thats another subject) Wylan has bright blue eyes, Kaz has dark straight hair, Wylan has blonde curls, Kaz is all edges, Wyan has round features.

This may be just to separate the phenotype of the high born kerch from the Ketterdam outsiders, but to me it´s clear that regardless, Wylan is described to be the opposite of him (Kaz is most likely the first Soc character conceived)

Now, does this mean they are mirrors or that they would have become each other? Not exactly, the next sections with treat that so we could say it for sure. The reason i don't want to make the conclusion quite yet is

-Like i said, the desing may be just to stablish the diferences between Kerch´s sites

-To me , Wylan´s mirror (maybe not "who he would have become" but this perfect parallel) it´s probably Jesper. Not sure about Kaz, it may be Nikolai or Inej but not sure yet

-The soc characters are so tridimensional and rich in characterization that many of their traits can be used for a study. The point is if the Wyan-Kaz parallel is just some traits or their whole character.

So, was this for nothing? No, cause we can't say the conception of Wylan-Kaz becoming each other comes out of nowhere, there is some narrative choices that invites the reader to compare them and hey, maybe as we go, the conclusion may actually be that the theory is right. And if its not, why not.

I actually HAVE a reason on why not, but i do want to put everything on the table

[restinslices]

Mortality

Jesper Fahey x Spouse (no gender specified) Word count: 2150 Summary: You and Jesper aged differently. You aged as any Otkazat’sya did. Jesper on the other hand is Grisha and ages much slower. As your mortality gets closer and closer, you and Jesper have a much needed talk. Wrote this on my phone at midnight😀

People could say a lot of negative things about Jesper Fahey. 

He was a shit gambler, a flirt, a drunk, he didn't think, he could be selfish at times, he could give you a headache with one sentence, among other things that could make anyone go in the opposite direction. 

But it was impossible to say he wasn't loving. Jesper held onto people and treated everyone like family, even when there were conflicts. There were plenty of times when you and Jesper would have a disagreement, yet he still looked at you like he'd both die and kill for you. Jesper could sometimes make promises he'd easily break for the right price. The promises he made to you though? There was no card game, no shiny gun, no heist, no amount of cash that could make him turn on you. 

Jesper supposed that's how he got himself to where he was now and honestly? He wasn't sure he liked it. 

Was it selfish to say apart of him wished you two never became something more or maybe that he never met you? Was it selfish to look at your aging body and wish he walked away and stayed away after The Ice Court heist? Maybe. He wasn't sure he cared though. 

Aging gave him a tap on the shoulder, but aging slammed into you. That didn't mean you were unattractive in his eyes, it just meant your body felt the stings of aging. Bad knees, hips, shoulder pains, wrinkles, all that was normal and expected. Jesper practically looked the same as he did when you two met. You were closer to death but he felt like the true ghost; forever stuck in a single moment. No changes to himself, only to his environment and the people around him. 

Or maybe even a time loop, but only for himself. Everyone else was free and moved on. Not him though. 

Jesper didn't realize he was staring until you said something, 

“A penny for your thoughts?”. 

“What?”

“You're staring”

“Oh” Jesper said with realization, “an accident”. Partially true. 

He smoothed out the blankets in front of him to distract himself but that worked as well as anyone would imagine. Your face was imprinted on his mind, and although Jesper could've just laid down and went straight to sleep, he knew it'd be all he'd see when he closed his eyes. 

Jesper heard you close and set your book down, then felt your eyes on him. 

“What're you doing?”

“Smoothing these blankets. They're quite wrinkly”

“Why?”

“Why? Why does anyone do anything?”

You sighed, “why won't you look at me?”

“I'm getting rid of the wrinkles on this blanket like I said”

“Because you can't get rid of mine?”. Jesper's hands stopped moving and he finally looked at you and another wave of sorrow hit him. Why did your inevitable death hit him so hard? 

Maybe it was because you were the last one left. 

Kaz, Inej, Wylan, Matthias, they were all gone by now. Matthias’ death was the first hit he received since his mom passed and as time went on the rest of his family, even if not by blood, passed on. Sure, he had Nina but Nina’s home was Ravka. Nina was more often busy than not and she was not the fondest of Kerch. Many times you suggested moving to Ravka for a “change of scenery”. He knew the truth though. You wanted him to get used to living somewhere else so he could be closer to Nina and not alone. You were the last consistent thing attached to his younger life and by some twist of fate, he'd be doomed to outlive majority of the people he met. He wondered if he did something awful in a past life to deserve this. 

“You've gone quiet again Jes”

He shook his head. “I don't know what to say”

“Too much on your brain? Don't know how to get it out?”. He assumed you took his silence as an answer because next you said “just say whatever, even if it doesn't make sense”. 

He took a deep breath then. It's not like you two hasn't talked about this before, but it was usually a small conversation that he'd slip his way out of with some dumb excuse. 

“I have something to do”. “I'm tired”. “Let's go eat”. “I have to go write a letter”. The list went on and on. This time though he couldn't think of an excuse and with limited time, he knew he had to speak to your living body now instead of a tombstone. 

“I don't think I'm ready to do this without you”

“Do what?”

“Live”. It came out breathy and quiet. He could tell he had upset you by how deep your frown was. Or maybe that was another sign of aging. He couldn't tell. 

“I can't do it”. 

“Yes you can”

“I can't”

“Jesper Fahey you can break into a Fjerdan Ice Court, escape, survive months at sea with Kaz Brekker, go toe to toe with every gang in Ketterdam and you still use the words 'I can't’?”. In any other circumstance he would've laughed and made some comment about how amazing he is. He didn't this time though. Nothing really felt enjoyable or funny anymore. Not when you could have some attack at any moment and be gone. 

“You're beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely stunning. I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as you”

“There's the stars and sea yet I’m the most beautiful thing you've seen?”. 

He nodded. “Absolutely”. 

“Is that why you're with me then? My charming looks?”

“You could look like all things wrong with the world and I'd still want you”

“Jesper the poet? I think I like it”. Your fragile hand held his and your eyes locked onto his. “You can live without me-”

“I can't”. The tears he had been fighting so hard to keep away finally slipped. He didn't bother wiping them away, too scared to let go of your hand. “I wanna be able to but I can't”

“Why?”. 

“Why?”, he  repeated. “I just can't”. 

Your thumb rubbing over his hand soothed him for a moment, but only a moment. That calmness died when you spoke again. 

“If this is hard for you, you can go. You don't have to see me like this”

“Where would I go?”, he asked with furrowed brows and a mix of hurt and confusion etched on his face. 

You shrugged. “Ravka maybe? Make it your new home-”

“My home is here. With you”

“You'll have to find a new one when I go”. 

His hand slipped from yours, frustration building in his chest. It all sounded so easy but it was only easy because you were the one dying. You wouldn't have to feel another part of you ripped away. You wouldn't feel anything anymore. He would. 

He'd think about it almost everyday and a hole would form in his chest and pull him into this thick fog and within this fog he'd hear the future. He'd hear a heart monitor go flat. He'd hear your breathing become shallow before it eventually stopped. He'd hear his own crying. Yet you would come along and act as if everything was alright. You'd be calm and fine while he was breaking on the inside. 

“Jesper Fahey, I am going to die and there's nothing you can do about it”. 

“What?”

“Jesper Fahey, I am going to die and there's nothing you can do about it”. 

“Stop”. 

But you didn't stop. You repeated it again and again and he thought he must've been hallucinating and finally reached his breaking point. He covered his ears but you grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers with his. You opened your mouth but he cut you off with a broken voice. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you don't understand you can't control this”

“I understand fully” he said quickly. “That's the whole problem. Can you stop being calm and show some sort of emotion for once?”

“What do you want me to do? To cry? To think about it and stress myself to a migraine like you do everyday?”. He hated how you looked at him then; with pity. It felt like with one foot in the grave, you'd always use the other to stay near him and soothe him and it made him feel selfish. “You wanna know how I feel?”. He didn't answer but you continued anyway. “I am terrified of death. Faith exists to calm us of this fear but honestly, I'm still scared. I don't know what's next. I don't know how it'll feel. I don't know if I'll see a light or if I'll be in darkness. I don't know how I'll go out and I don't know how it'll feel to take my last breath. I'm terrified but worrying about it everyday? That's not living. I'll be on my deathbed slipping away and all I'll think about is how I should've lived more”

“You are so stressed about me dying but honestly Jes? You're just making yourself live through the inevitable every single day. We should be loving each other now more than ever when we have the time. We're gonna get to my final moments and we'll both have regrets, the only difference is you'll have to live with yours”. 

Jesper couldn't help but let tears fall from his eyes. He knew you were right and that he should be holding you close during this time, but he couldn't help but listen to the tiny voice in his head that drove him insane everyday. Everyday was a reminder that for some unknown reason, he'd live much longer. Years would pass and he'd forget your face and always have to look at pictures or letters to remember you. One day he'd even forget your voice. How long would that take? 10 years? 20? 30? 

The more he thought, the more his breathing became erratic and his vision blurred. Blinking away tears didn't work. They'd just come back. You guided his head to your shoulder before your hand found its way to his back to rub circles on it. Jesper wasn't known to cry, but he cried. Hard. And you let him. When his breathing returned to normal, it wasn't because he was no longer sad. It was because he was exhausted. His eyes and nose had gone red by now and his face felt incredibly sore. 

When he quieted down, you spoke again. “I want to love you while I still can but if you don't want to see what'll eventually happen��� I’m… I'm willing to let you go”. It was hard for you to say. He could tell because of how quiet it came out. Were you willing to? Probably. Did you want to? Absolutely not. He didn't need to ask or look at you to know. 

Jesper had a big choice to make. He stayed, spent the rest of your life with you and eventually buried you or he could leave and try to get a jumpstart at a new life. He wouldn't see age continue to eat at you and when your time came, he wouldn't be there. He'd be leaving you alone. He probably wouldn't know exactly when you died. Years would pass and he'd just guess that you were gone. 

Jesper was ashamed of how long it took him to make a decision. Leaving seemed so good. The pain of watching you continue to grow old would be no more, but then he'd be left with another pain; the pain of never seeing you again. Of knowing he abandoned you when all you wanted was to hold him close. You had no family and no notable friends besides him and Nina now. You'd probably be found and with no one to identify you, who knew what would become of your body in Kerch. A body with no name. And he'd become a body with no home. 

“I'm not going anywhere”. He finally lifted his head up to look at you and although he still felt that pang in his heart, he didn't look away and try to avoid your gaze. He just looked at you, mapping every detail of your face so he could look back and remember just how beautiful you were when you're gone. 

“I am so going to miss you”

“Of course you will” you said with a small smile and you finally got a chuckle out of him, even if it was small. 

You didn't have forever. You both knew you were on limited time and one day you'd be apart, but you both promised to love and cherish the time you still had together and maybe, just maybe, you'd see each other in the next life when the sun finally set on the both of you. 

I am feral for this man in the most wholesome way possible. Legit just wanna hold his hand and hear him talk about dumb shit.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Been a while since we did this: It’s midnight and I’m thinking about six of crows, so let’s chat. I’m currently thinking about the experiences of Wylan and Inej echoing each other on opposite ends of the spectrum of cruelty created by the environment in Ketterdam, because ultimately it’s a system that favours no-one but the men who created it. Even though Inej is a foreign immigrant brought to the country against her will and Wylan was born to one of the richest families in the country, they both suffer greatly at its hands - arguably even in similar ways.

*Spoilers ahead!!!!*

Ok so this particular thought occurred to me a little while ago, and it was first sparked by the conversation Van Eck has with Inej at the beginning of Crooked Kingdom when holding her captive. He tells her he is not “a brute” but has simply “employed the methods you are most accustomed to - threats, violence” and her immediate response is ���He sounded like Tante Heleen”. She goes on to remember Heleen’s words saying “Why do you make me do these things? You bring these punishments on yourself, girl”. So of course there’s this immediate link between them, and I would argue that the parallels are perpetuated throughout the novel as well. Quickly want to add as well that it’s really interesting to see Tante Heleen call her “girl”, because although this denies Inej identity and aligns greatly with the way she sobs at hearing her own name said aloud for the first time in a year when she meets Kaz, it doesn’t come across as immediately dehumanising in the way that other epithets used against her, like “little Lynx”, do. But interestingly enough, I actually think that it still is a dehumanising word when it comes from Heleen - because she does not see “her girls” as human. First of all, whenever the children at the Menagerie are referred to as “girls” it’s always in an entirely possessive manner - “your girl will he returned to you” “where is my girl?” “That is not my girl” (these are literally all from one scene, and there are way more throughout the books) - but the idea is only intensified by Inej’s own sentence: “not really people, not even really girls.”. As if “girls” and “people” are two separate entities. As if “girls” are not human. This is the language and the attitude that she was surrounded by at the Menagerie and is still surrounded by in the city, and what was forced upon her throughout her experiences in the country. But you know what else might be a genuinely horrifying little detail of this????? Inej may have actually taught herself that the words “people” and “girls” are not synonymous. Because when Inej was brought to Kerch she wasn’t fluent in the language, she spoke some of it and quickly learnt the rest through circumstance, so if this was the way she heard Kerch people use the word “girl” this is how she would internalise the definition of it. I hope this makes sense I’m not sure if I’m relating my thoughts very clearly, it’s kind of like how Matthias was forced to learn Kerch because he was in a Kerch prison so he doesn’t know words that would easily come to him in Fjerdan, like the snow goggles, but instead of simply having gaps Inej has actually learnt a false grammar system that defines “girl” as a dehumanising term because it means someone who is less than or someone who is property. Anyway, that was quite a tangent so let’s keep going.

I talked quite a lot about Wylan’s experience with abuse in my post about the similarities between him and Kaz so I won’t go into too much detail here (if you want to read that though it’s on my page, it’s called Kaz and Wylan’s Potential to Become Each Other, I can tag anyone who’d like to be tagged) but I want to mention the way Van Eck has conditioned his son to blame himself for everything he’s been through, rather than his father. Wylan actively blames himself, even after he discovers what his father did to Marya he says to Jesper “you don’t understand, it’s my fault” because he believes that Van Eck needed a convenient way of getting rid of her so he could remarry and have a child that he didn’t view as “defective”.

I want to talk about Inej during the bathroom scene in Crooked Kingdom, specifically focusing on the fact that this is really the moment she is most open about her trauma and reveals herself to be at her most vulnerable. Now I could talk for DAYS about the way she expresses herself in this scene in comparison to Kaz and why their vulnerabilities differ in different moments, but I’m trying to stay on track so maybe I’ll talk about that another time, the focus here is that in this moment when she is her most open with another character about what she went through she tells Kaz that “Tante Heleen wasn’t always cruel” and explains emotional abuse and manipulation that Heleen layered with her physical and financial abuse. It so importantly echoes Van Eck’s abuse of Wylan, because ultimately he was always an emotionally abusive and manipulative person. Discovering that Wylan couldn’t read at age 8 didn’t magically switch him from a loving husband and father to the monster we see in the duology, and it is implied that he was abusing Marya in some form prior to sending her away. But Wylan clings to the things that his father did that seem loving, at least on the surface, and blames himself for any problems in his parents marriage - “they argued a lot, sometimes about me. But I remember them laughing a lot too”. (The quote is along those lines sorry I don’t have my book on me right now). This quote always intrigued me because not only does Wylan label himself as the common denominator in any issues they had, he also quickly jumps in to add defence as if their relationship is never supposed to be touched upon or examined too closely. Wylan also says “My father trusts himself first, Alys only so far”, which is really interesting to me because it clearly implies that there is a limit to anything positive Van Eck shares with his supposed loved ones. I don’t think there’s supposed to be any implication that Van Eck is abusing Alys right now, but if you disagree please let me know if be interested to hear it, but I do think that we’re supposed to be aware that he would begin to do so further down the line.

Ok I won’t lie to you guys I’ve kind of lost track of my point, so I’m gonna leave this here for now and if I decide to add anything later then I’ll reblog to continue. If anyone would like to add anything please do, and thanks for reading!

[jazzythursday]

Last Line Tag Game

Hi! I was tagged by @aphroditestummyrolls to share the last few lines I wrote with you all. To be honest I meant to get to this a while ago, but there's one scene in Heart Of The Country that has been giving me trouble and I was hoping to salvage enough of it for a snippet eventually… which I haven’t quite yet. Taking a break from it for a moment to share some of my Wylan torture/whump wip that I haven't talked much about on here. This scene is part of a Jesper pov chapter about half way through the story:

“Jesper.” The way she says his name gives him pause, and he turns back to her wearily, feeling the weight of every day of this week catching up to him all at once. He sags against the countertop, trying to pass it off as a lean—though she knows him well enough to tell the difference—and sighs. "Talk to me."

"This is talking, we're talking right now." He taps restlessly at the granite of the countertops, attempting a smile even though his face feels like a rubber band about to snap. “You’ve been gone for a long time, Nej, you’ll forgive a man for wanting to catch up. Maybe I’m just curious about all your exciting adventures at sea.”

“My adventures at sea involve a lot of waste management and trying to keep my knives from rusting from saltwater. It isn’t particularly glamorous.” She smiles kindly at him, sympathetic but without pity. “I’ve missed you too, Jes, but you know that’s not why I came.”

How could I forget? Jesper could no sooner do so than he could lick his own boots while they were still laced. No, it’s no use putting this off, filling the silence where an empty space sits loudly where another person should be, but he’d tried. He’d missed Inej terribly while she’d been away, as he always does, and it had been easy to slip into friendly conversation and banter just as they would, were this simply another one of her usual visits—like they really are just catching up. It is wonderful to see her, in any case, and it had been nice to pretend, selfishly, that things were normal, if only for a minute. 

“Tea?” he offers dully, though the jig is long up by now, and feels a pang at how the word sits wrong in his mouth. Wylan is the one who usually offers tea, who always has their friend's favourite biscuits and herbal blends on hand, slipping into the practised role of hosting like a well worn coat while Jesper chatters away—but they’ve only got Jesper for a poor replacement now, little good he is at it.

“What happened, Jes?”

“It didn’t seem like anything at the time,” Jesper says, after a long beat. “You know we still do work for Kaz, when it suits. It was just—it was like any other job.” 

Inej nods, she perches opposite him on the kitchen table, sweeping her long braid over her shoulder to wrap around her hand, combing through the ends as she listens. 

There had been nothing especially interesting or dangerous about the job at all. Thinking back on it, it was comparatively boring, a surefire win—and it had been—a veritable success, until it wasn’t.

Tagging @oneofthewednesdays @sparrowmoth @sunfl8wer @waterloou and @sixofcrowdaydreams (but no pressure! 💖)

[squidpro-quo]

Do Catch Up

The advice from Sankta Neyar echoes in Jesper's head after the whole world saving goes down. He's been in the company of grisha before, but never so many at once and maybe it's the place to start

David, the greatest Fabrikator at the Little Palace, isn't alive to help give him any pointers. From what Jesper's heard of him, they would've been polar opposites but it's a shame he didn't get the chance to see how they would get along

Tolya's advice is very poetic but Jesper's never 'plumbed his inner depths' or anything of the sort except with company and some drinks so that's not a big help either. Maybe their small sciences or whatever are just too far apart

Nina offers him half of the pastry she's eating—between her and Tolya what is it with corporalki and their bottomless stomachs—and her commiseration. She hated the Little Palace's stifling rules and gross patriotism, but a good teacher is a life-saver when it comes to coming into your own.

Maybe what he needs are materials, like the name of the materialki order suggests, and he just so happens to know who has a bunch of those.

"You want to 'play with my stuff'?" Wylan hugs his backpack to his chest, protective of the powders or Jesper, Jesper can't quite tell. "After you were the one that made a point about most demomen having less fingers because of exactly that?"

"But I'd have a very capable teacher standing by to warn me about what not to do!" Jesper says, running his hands down Wylan's arms, with his most winning smile on full blast. He's a master at taking chances. And losing on them, but what better good luck charm than the cutest demoman in the world?

"What would you want to make? Or do? What's the proper term for..." Wylan's caving, Jesper can hear it in his softening interrogation, but the questions makes him reconsider. What does he want to do? Or make? Neshyenyar surfaces in his memory, but neither is he at that level nor is he interested in a sword. Who would use it? Certainly not him, and as much as there's not a weapon Inej can't wield, he knows where her preferences lie. And why look elsewhere?

"Never mind, I'll leave the game of Ravkan Roulette for another time." Relief fills Wylan's face, but Jesper doesn't miss the shy glance down at his clinking backpack. "But I'd love to watch a master at work instead. Now, I need to go steal something from a Wraith. Wish me luck!"

Inej gives him one of her knives with less persuasion than Jesper had expected to have to expend, all that unused charm will just have to wait around for the next opportunity.

"I was planning to leave one with you when I left; you're welcome to pick which one you'd prefer," she says, her smile an apology and appeasement in one. His heart stings with the impending loss, knowing every shadow is empty made the night very dark indeed. She doesn't need to show him her knives, he's seen them all before, between her fingers, between the gaps in a guard's armor, and he knows which one he'd pick.

Maybe Tolya was right about the inner depths bit, he's never felt such a bone-deep exhaustion before and he never even moved from the chair or left the table. What he thought he knew of his blessing was being tested in so many different ways; this wasn't putting a piece back in place, or moving something that he'd always felt was a part of himself. How did he make it do what he wanted when he was an ocean away and out of his reach? How could he make it flexible and yet sturdy, adaptable but always what was needed in the moment?

How could he give it just the tiniest bit of life?

A pair of hands circles his shoulders, drawing him out of his daze with a start. He can feel Wylan's cheek pressed against his ear, a grounding weight that pulls him from the immeasurable depths that he still needs to plumb. His mind feels heavy from twisting itself into so many different shapes and he swears he can taste molecules now. More than he normally can anyway, more than would be normal, and his fingers ache from kneading metal for hours.

"Is it done?" Wylan's soft voice is a balm on his bruised brain. He nods, head flopping back on Wylan's shoulder in a pointed gesture of being so done, if not done.

"What about the kiss?" Wylan asks, and Jesper hums in apology and finds Wylan's lips with his eyes still closed, because he could be blind and still know his way to them.

"Mm—" a noise of surprise from Wylan, as if Jesper would ever deny him a kiss "—I love it but I meant the kiss for your work?"

Jesper opens his eyes, wondering if he's spent so long down in those depths that he broke his ears. "What?"

"The—the kiss..." Wylan stammers, his hands waving about in search of words as he finally gestures at the knife Jesper's been tying himself in knots for this past week. "Your guns."

"My guns?" Jesper repeats, at last finding some purchase in something that he understands intricately.

"You...I've seen you...When you kiss your guns..." It's endearing, it really is, to see Wylan getting more and more flustered the longer Jesper stares at him in incomprehension, but at some point the bearing does drop and the spark of understanding flares.

"That's just for good luck, though really I don't need—"

"—need luck for those because they're a part of you. But a kiss can go a long way, everything needs a little show of love sometimes." Ducking his head, Wylan tries to hide the smile but Jesper's never missed it and he's not about to start now.

"Once I'm done giving it a kiss, I'm giving you a little show of love, just you wait," he promises, grabbing the knife and considering the best way to both keep his oh-so-silver tongue intact and still plant a solid Jesper-trademarked smooch on it.

It's a quick kiss, the metal cold on his mouth, but in the instant that it lasts, he knows it worked. And the knife knows it worked, it knows what to do and when to do it, and it knows how important it is to do it right. Jesper lays it down gently on the leather he wants to wrap it in tomorrow, before Inej sets off, and leaves to let Wylan know just what a great idea that was and how smart he was for figuring it out.

Inej unwraps her knife with a confused look, and before it can turn to hurt, Jesper butts in, "I know you meant to leave it with me, but have you seen me handle a knife? Trust me, it's a menace, and not in a good way. Best for all of us if it stays with you, but I gave it a little something special to remind you of me while you're off flying the skies or sailing the sea. Lots of places to lose a knife out there where the ground is far away..."

She turns the dagger, a karambit by her words, quizzically. "I don't see any bedazzled jewels on here, Jesper."

"I can respect a style when I see one, don't worry. Give it a good throw," he suggests, gesturing to the ship despite Nikolai's groan of protest about his rigging.

"Is it the weight?" Inej asks, tossing the knife a few times playfully before it slams into the side of an old chest at the prow of the ship, Jesper can hardly see it between the maze of ropes and sailcloth.

"It did cross my mind, but I expect you had it made the way you like it and I don't mess with a perfect system like that." He shakes his head before waving towards the long-gone knife with a flourish. "Call it back."

"I can't just—" Inej mimes yanking back on a fishing rod, but her face splits into a surprised gasp when the knife appears in her grip with just that much ease. "Jes, how did you...?"

"Just trying to act my age," Jesper says with a bow, side-eyeing the trail of torn sails and fraying ropes the knife left behind in its wake. "Um, one last present from me, you can lay all the blame for that damage on me. Don't forget me on your wide travels."

"As if I ever could." Inej laughs, the sadness of parting flecked with a glee Jesper knows she reserves for a new pair of knives. Slowly but surely, he'll catch up. And he'll have a good teacher, or more fellow experimenter, along for the ride.

[house-of-slayterr]

Too bad you’re getting them… hehe 🤭

First on my list…

Charlie Swan:

Fully believe he just had Bella because he thought it was what he was supposed to do in life, and he married her mom because she was pregnant at the time. But when his wife divorced him, he realised he actually values friendships higher than sex or romance. I think he’s asexual and Greyromantic

Jervis Tetch:

Jervis just wants to find his Alice. He’s never wanted anything more in his entire life. I don’t think this man has spent a single moment thinking about sex or romance. I mean he even hypnotised that couple at their wedding. That’s very anti-romantic if you ask me. What matters to him is his vision and he’s delusions, anything outside of that is not his business unless it gets in his way.

Malcolm Bright:

I think he’s asexual, but craves the feeling of giving pleasure, weather sexual or not. He’d be the type to do it because pleasing his partner makes him feel happy and satisfied. But as far as the act itself he couldn’t really care if he goes without it or not. He’s got more pressing matters to tend to.

Bubba Sawyer:

Despite their brothers being total creeps (affectionate) I don’t even think a dirty thought has ever crossed their mind unless chop top and nubbins are putting it there. I think bubba would be sex repulsed ace. Bubba craves romance but not the real kind. They find much more interest in reading stories about it and watching romance then ever participating. Partially because they doubt anyone would want to, but also because they’ve never really need that kind of affection. They wouldn’t be apposed to dating if an option arises though, but it would take a long time for Bubba to get to that point. No love at first sight here.

Nancy Wheeler:

Nancy doesn’t do very well in romantic relationships and I think that’s because she doesn’t actually want to be in one. She likes the companionship and other benefits, but she tends to freak out whenever a partner does something they see as a big romantic gesture. I think she’s Aromatic, but feels very strongly about her platonic bonds. But I don’t think she’s asexual. I think she just dates because that what she sees everyone else doing and her friends keep encouraging it.

Kaz Brekker:

He very much romantic, although he struggles greatly with it. But I think Kaz is on the ace spectrum. He doesn’t like to touch to be touched. He’s also another man far too focused on other things to let his mind wonder. He’s the polar opposite of Jesper, and it shows. He would thrive in a QPR, but I do ship him and Inej romantically.

Illyanna Rasputin:

Magik doesn’t seem the type to like romance at all, I feel like she’s be romance repulsed. She’s very loyal when it comes to friendships, but even to get to that point with her takes a while. Illyanna does better alone than with people, and the people she considers “her people” she would never catch feelings for. She’s doesn’t enjoy feeling such emotions, and would quickly shut someone down if they asked her out for real. Though I do think with her sassy and sarcastic personality she does enjoy flirting with friends and strangers just to get a reaction, but that’s where her intentions end. Curiosity.

Herbert West:

I think Herbert is very Aro/ace. Man doesn’t get flustered very easy either. He veiws the naked body as strictly medical in nature whenever observing. Though I do believe he’s capable of strong queer platonic bonds, and leans more toward a preference for men. Herbert doesn’t get along quite as well with women.

Do we want more Aro/Ace character headcannons?

[holden-caulfield]

The Distraction

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Kaz brekker with a reader who is apart of the crows but she doesn't fight, she plays the violin and is used as a distraction during heist. And she's the complete opposite from kaz super sweet and nice. Maybe something goes wrong during a heist and she gets hurt."

SUMMARY: the reader is part of the crows and is used as the distraction during most heists, but when she gets injured she discovers something very interesting about kaz.

WARNINGS: blood and wounds mentions and descriptions.

WORD COUNT: 1846

"Everyone knows what they have to do?" asked Kaz to revise the plan once more.

"I stay in the shadows, watching over everyone and making sure nothing goes wrong." said Inej, checking all her knives.

"I escort Y/n inside and wait for the right moment to strike." said Jesper as if he was reciting more of a nursery rhyme than his part of the job.

"I distract." you said, simply shrugging your shoulders.

It wasn't the first time you had been it, the distraction. They said you played the violin, but you didn't just play it. You were one with the instrument, every melody that emitted from its strings was a spell and no one was immune. Every chord you played, every song you made, it enchanted everyone, it kept them glued to your agile hands, fabricating every single sound to allure and well, distract.

Kaz Brekker had found you, he had been lost in the music like everyone. No one was immune. His undeceivable mind momentarily stopped, enraptured by your fingers holding the instrument like the most valuable crystal glass. It was like watching a master at work and he knew he needed such an asset in his team.

Ever since then, you had worked with the crows, deceiving everyone they needed to with your talent. You didn't do the dirty deed, but you made sure it got done.

That night was no different: you got inside, Jesper by your side, both dressed with the most elegant clothes you could find. You smiled widely as you took your place at the center of the hall. You took out your weapon while they welcomed you with a soft round of applause, and then you began. Everyone had eyes only for you, everyone had ears only for you.

Jesper silently left his place and began roaming, but you focused only on your work. You played and you played, and you got lost in it. No one was immune, not even you.

It was only when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach that you stopped. Everyone was running around, the music had stopped and you realized you were bleeding. You let go of the violin, falling desperately to the ground, but you couldn't do anything for it as you clutched your side.

You didn't look down, you kept your eyes on the door. A swarm of men with rifles advancing on you. They were all hazy, undefined. They started falling one by one, scarlet strands filled your vision. Yet another man stepped closer to you, but no one stopped him. He was dressed in all black and black was the last thing you saw.

When you started seeing colours again, you weren't in the hall anymore, the violin wasn't by your side and you weren't dressed in your long scarlet gown. You were in a dark room, a tiny golden line was all the light you had and it came from a tiny opening in the window. You delicately touched your side and immediately retrieved your fingers as you ascertained that last night wasn't just a dream. You lifted your shirt slightly and saw stitches keeping the sides of the wound together. It hadn't been a dream, but it sure was a nightmare.

You tried getting up, sitting on the bed with the feet dangling on its side, and then the door opened: in entered a tall girl, brown locks on her shoulders and she was carrying what you supposed was food. You couldn't see it very well but the smell that invaded the room was obvious.

"What are you doing up?! Lay back again immediately!" she shrieked, settling the plate she had brought on the table beside your bed. She pushed you back down, uncovering your wound. "You aren't fully healed yet, you shouldn't be standing."

"Who are you?" you asked as you watched her hands hover over your stomach.

"I'm the one that saved your pretty face!"

"Thank you, then." she turned her gaze to you with shock on her face. You returned the confused look.

"When Kaz told me i had to help you, i thought you were a crow..." she pondered.

"I am. Y/n Y/l/n, pleasure to meet you." the girl shook your outstretched hand, still surprised.

"Nina Zenik, pleasure's all mine," she began, then turned her attention back to your stomach. "You don't look like a crow, what do you do?"

"I distract." you said simply, a déjà-vu, but noticed her look of suspicion, so you continued. "I play the violin and i distract whenever there's the need for a distraction." Nina scoffed lightly. "What?"

"It's just- Kaz doesn't need distractions." she claimed, and you started feeling a tingling sensation in you abdomen as she moved her hands over it.

"Well, sometimes during a job-"

"He has Jesper for that. He has demo for that." she admitted, a smile playing on her lips but you couldn't quite understand. "He doesn't need a violin."

"But he's the one who offered me the job, of course he needs it." you stated stubbornly. You weren't going to let some random girl tell you how useless you were.

"No, no, you got it wrong," she started. "Kaz doesn't need a distraction. He has plenty already." you were growing progressively more confused and irritated, but let her continue. "However..."

"However, what?" you asked.

"However i think he wanted a distraction." she said, flashing you a knowing smile.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she twisted her hands on your abdomen and the wound was starting to disappear almost completely. "That Kaz Brekker is a very logical man, as you probably already know, and this isn't a logical decision. Why hire a distraction when he could simply ask Jesper or create one himself?"

You thought about it; you knew the crows had been together before you joined them and you knew they had worked together before but you always thought you made the whole process of stealing and deceiving easier with your abilities. Nina was now making you doubt that.

"I'll tell you why, because he wants a distraction, and, more specifically, you."

You widened your eyes as she got up from your side, the wound now a past memory, only a light scar was in its place. You lifted yourself from the bed, it still hurt but you had more pressing things on your mind now.

"What do you mean? Kaz hired me to work for him."

"That's what he tells you, but i think you are his first impulsive decision. Be proud of it, it doesn't happen often!" she winked at you but you were still confused. She sat down on the chair and started biting on one of the delicacies she had brought with her. "Want one?"

"No, thank you."

"Your loss." she said as she shifted the plate onto her lap.

"I think you're wrong." she lifted her gaze to look at you.

"Why's that?"

"I know Kaz and he does nothing without a reason."

"Oh you are right, but i think he had different reasons for hiring you." she said. "I think he might have a liking on you."

You laughed incredulously. Kaz Brekker would never.

"And i think you might be crazier than i expected."

"Then tell me, Y/n, why would such a logical man come check on his basic distraction every hour when he could simply find another one?"

You gulped. He checked on you every hour?

"Because no one does what i do like i do it." you shuddered at your words, you were speaking like him. "What i mean is, he would do it for everyone."

"I am quite sure he wouldn't check on Jesper every few minutes, he wouldn't pace around his office like a mad man if i were in your place." she said, eating the last of the waffles she had brought.

You thought about it a moment, then swatted the thought out of your mind. There was only a way to know for sure and it was to ask him directly.

"Do you know where he is now?" you asked, getting out of bed and going for the door.

"Where do you think he is?" she said inquisitively. You had a feeling you knew.

You thanked Nina and bid her goodbye, darting outside the room towards Kaz's office. You had been there sometimes, usually to discuss plans with him. You never made a big deal out of it but now Nina's words were reverberating in your mind. Maybe she was just messing with you, but maybe she wasn't and, however silly it sounded, you wanted to believe it was the latter possibility.

"Hey Y/n! Are you alright?" asked Jesper as he saw you running past him.

"Yes, have you seen Kaz?" you asked quickly.

"Should be upstairs, but why are you-"

"Thanks Jesper!" you didn't give him time to finish as you climbed the stairs.

You stopped in front of the door and knocked loud enough for him to hear you, thinking about what you could have said, thinking about his reaction. Would he have been happy to see you? Relieved? Impassive as always?

"Who is it?" came his rough voice from inside.

"Y/n." you said gingerly and you heard total silence.

"Come in." you opened the door and stepped inside. He was standing in front of the window, his shoulders to you. He didn't even turn around, maybe Nina was kidding and you fell for it like an idiot. "Do you need anything?"

"I-" you stopped yourself, what could you say? You just wanted to see him, see if he was scared for you, if he cared. "I thought you'd have wanted to see me..." you wanted to smack yourself in the face after that. He was Kaz Brekker, not some silly teenager in love.

He remained in silence, still in front of the window. It was late and the sun had already gone out.

"I am planning this new job and-"

"You don't need me for the job." you said it matter-of-factly.

Even though Nina might have been wrong about Kaz, you knew she wasn't wrong about you: you weren't vital for the plan and you had never been, so Kaz owed you at least an explanation. Especially after what happened the previous night, the job gone wrong.

"You are right, i don't." you weren't surprised by the answer he had given you, but what surprised you was that he admitted it so easily. "But i thought you'd want to be there when we get our revenge over those that did that to you."

You gaped at that, but he obviously couldn't see it. "We?"

"Yes. We." he repeated.

"Did you come checking on me?"

He craned his neck so that he was looking over his shoulder, looking at you. "Did Nina tell you?"

"Did you or not?"

"I did."

You paused for a moment. "Why?"

"Because you are one of us."

"Just one of us?" you insisted. You weren't sure whether you should have continued or not, but he couldn't leave you with such an answer. You needed a clearer one.

"No." he said, "Not just one of us."

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[triptuckers]

New In Town (part six) - Kaz Brekker

Request: nope Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader Summary: after your meeting late at night with Kaz, you expect not much to change. he shows you just how wrong you are Warnings:  language Word count: 2.8K A/N: oh I loved writing this sm I hope you guys like it!! :) PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (all grishaverse fics): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler@romanoffstarkovs @daliareads@meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza@whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy @brekker-zenik @just-deka @graceknxwlson @the-very-tired-mess TAG LIST (Kaz Brekker): @mufnasa @janesofia7 @stairscortana @parker-natasha@illicitghosts @brick-by-brick553 TAG LIST (New In Town series): @calums-betch add yourself to my tag lists here

You're sneaking through a museum. It's dark, and there are no lights in the halls. Luckily, the carpet on the ground is rather thick, and it helps with muffling the sound of your footsteps.

A couple of days ago, you overheard Kaz telling the crows a valuable DeKappel painting would be moved from Os Kervo to Ketterdam. Which is why you're in the museum.

You'd listened to his description of the painting. Because it's dark, you can't move fast. You have to stop in front of each painting to step closer, squint your eyes, and determine wether or not it's the painting you're looking for.

Of course, you'd wondered wether there is a DeKappel here at all. Kaz had said he'd take precautions against you. But you didn't know if he figured out yet how you got your information. Besides, the painting would be worth a good amount of kruge, and you couldn't resist.

As you're sneaking through the museum, a tiny voice in the back of your head makes you question this job again.

Kaz hadn't told the others how big the painting is.

If you were to walk down the streets with some enormous painting right after someone snuck into the museum, you wouldn't even have to try to lie. They'd know it was you.

But maybe the painting wouldn't be that big, and you could easily take it with you back to your apartment. Either way, you had to find the painting before the crows did.

You've never been in the museum before. When you set foot in the dark museum, you immediately thought you'd underestimated it. The building was far larger than you'd thought.

The hallways seem to go on forever, twisting and turning and with big rooms with art at the ends of them. You're running out of time, as the crows would arrive soon.

Just as you're muttering to yourself about bringing a map the next time, you walk into a room and see there's only a single painting on the wall.

As you walk closer, you recognise it from Kaz' description. You read the card on the wall next to it, and it's indeed the DeKappel you are looking for.

But when you step back to look at it again, you realise it was all a waste of time. The painting is way too big for you to take off the wall and carry home by yourself.

Looks like this time, Kaz could do his own job.

When you're about to turn around and walk away, you hear a sound in the distance, coming from the hallway that leads to the room you're in.

Someone walks into the room and the two of you simultaneously pull out a gun and point it at each other. It's too dark to see who they are, all you can tell is that they're tall, and pointing a gun at you. Then they speak up.

'Afraid that's our prize, love.'

You can see the way his gun slightly lowers in surprise when you start to chuckle softly.

'Don't worry, Jesper, you can have it.' you say.

Jesper slowly lowers his gun even more. 'Y/N?' he says and you can hear the confusion in his voice.

'Little different from working at a cafe, hm?' you say as you start to walk toward him.

When you get closer, you can see his face. He's looking down at you and frowning, as if he still doesn't understand what you're doing there.

'What are you doing here?' asks Jesper.

'She's stealing a DeKappel.' says Kaz, who walks up to the two of you, followed by Inej and Wylan.

You see how Jesper's eyes widen. 'You were going to steal something?' he says.

'Sorry I don't fit the imagine you have of me in your mind.' you say.

You look at Kaz. 'Is this one of your precautions?' you say.

'No.' he says. 'I didn't know it was going to be this big. Luckily, and unlike you, I have a crew.'

'Well, good luck and until next time.' you say, walking past him, but he stops you by putting his cane on the ground in front of your feet, forcing you to stop walking. Instead of looking at you, however, Kaz turns to the other crows.

'Get the painting off that wall and be careful not to damage it.' he says. 'Nina and Matthias will signal to us if there are guards nearby.'

Inej, Wylan and Jesper look at Kaz and you, clearly having no clue why or how you know each other. Apparently, you weren't the only one Kaz was a mystery to.

When the three of them walk over to the painting, Kaz turns to you again.

'I have a proposition for you.' he says.

You raise your eyebrows. 'If it involves the money that DeKappel is worth, I'm listening.' you say.

'A job.' says Kaz. 'You're good, you have valuable skills. Become a member of the Dregs, and then one of the crows.'

You laugh softly and shake your head. 'I work alone.' you say. 'And besides, I'm having way too much fun with this game we're playing.'

Before Kaz can say anything else, you wink at him and disappear into the shadows of the dark hallway.

You don't spot Nina or Matthias as you make your way out of the museum. As you start to walk toward your apartment, you can't help but to notice you don't feel bad about not getting the painting.

Maybe you didn't get the painting, you did get a job offer from Kaz. Which shows he thinks you are fit to be amongst his crew. Though you wonder what it would be like to actually work for him, you're glad you didn't accept his offer.

You'd told him the truth; you liked this game between the two of you too much to just give it up like that. And besides, there would be many more jobs to come which you could sabotage. The game isn't over yet.

That night when you lay in bed, you keep thinking about the other crows. How Jesper, Inej and Wylan had looked at you and Kaz with confused looks on their faces. You wonder if they know more about Kaz than you do. He seemed like a mysterious and private person to you.

Your last thought before you fall asleep is that you couldn't wait to see the confused looks on their faces when you stole their target, again.

Whatever Kaz had tried to do to stop you, either it didn't work, or he didn't try hard enough.

When you get to your usual spot on the Slat's roof the next day, there's no indication whatsoever that someone has been there, or knows you're there.

You lay back on the roof to look at the clouds, waiting for someone to start talking in Kaz' rooms. Even if no one is going to say anything, you like resting on the roof. It's like your own personal spot. With a view of a big part of the city, and you can listen to the conversations in the street below. Or if someone in the Slat has their windows open, you could listen to whatever they were saying.

You think back to Kaz' offer. You'd spend many days listening to their conversations and meetings, but also their laughter, their jokes, their small talk.

Even after living in Ketterdam for a while now, you have yet to make good friends. Jesper is the one you used to talk to the most, but you wonder if it'll change now that he knows you're the one who has been stealing from them.

The crows weren't really your friends, quite the opposite. But you did genuinely enjoy talking to Jesper. And whatever game you've got going on with Kaz.

You wonder if you'd still see them if somehow this thing between you and Kaz suddenly stopped.

You're so caught up in your thinking, you don't realise someone is talking in the room beneath you. Quickly but carefully, you move closer to the open window to listen.

'Did you know Y/N was the one stealing from us?' says Jesper.

'Yes.' says Kaz.

'How did you find out?' says Jesper.

'I figured it out a couple of days ago.' says Kaz.

Perhaps he hadn't figured out how you got your information. Otherwise he wouldn't be talking about you, if he knew you were listening to them.

'How do you know her? Y/N?' says Inej.

'She was a bartender at a pub Kaz and I went to a while ago. We were talking about a job, and then someone went ahead and snatched that necklace away from us. I thought it was a coincidence at first.' explains Jesper.

'Only it wasn't, and she stole more.' says Inej. 'So, she knows about our jobs, and Kaz' plans, and we don't know how she keeps on outsmarting us?'

'Something like that.' says Kaz.

'So all we have to do is figure out how she gets that information, and we can outsmart her?' says Inej.

'If you know how she gets such information, please, enlighten me because I have no clue.' says Kaz in a sarcastic voice.

They're all silent for a while. You think they might have moved to a different room, but then you hear Wylan's voice.

'Someone keeps outsmarting you and you don't know how she does it?' he says. 'But no one outsmarts you.'

'Apparently, at least one person does.' says Kaz.

You smile at his words. You can't help but to feel proud. Apparently it was hard to outsmart Kaz, and you'd done it more than once.

'But enough about Y/N, we've got work to do. We're going back to the museum tomorrow.' says Kaz.

'Why?' says Jesper. 'We just got back, and I'll bet they have more security now after we got that DeKappel.'

'Because I saw something that caught my eye and it's worth a lot of money. So we're going back to get it.' says Kaz.

'Did you not hear me when I said there'd be more security?' says Jesper.

'I did. Which is why we're going to go during the day. Wylan will make sure there's a distraction. In the chaos, Jesper, Inej and Nina will get the target. A set of hand written letters of one of the first Queens of Ravka. Worth a lot of money to the right people. Matthias and I will handle the guards if there are any.' says Kaz.

'How big of a distraction?' says Wylan.

'Big enough.' says Kaz. 'We'll go in around 11 in the morning, when it's busy so there's enough people and we can lose the guards in the crowd.'

Satisfied with the new information, you lay back down on the roof and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face. You listen as they all shuffle around the room and hear the door close.

You feel your eyelids starting to feel heavier, and push yourself up into a sitting position. The last thing you needed was to fall asleep on a roof.

You slowly move to the open window, listening if anyone is still there. When you don't hear anything, you start to climb your way back down.

After checking to see if any of the crows are near, you begin walking back to your apartment. Even though they all knew you are the one to steal from them, you doubted they'd do anything to you if they saw you in the streets. But still you preferred not to run into any of them.

You spend the rest of the day walking around the city, not doing much. You'd gotten your information, so there wasn't much left for you to do except waiting.

You walk around the canals, looking out over the city. Over time, you'd learned all of the streets, small alleys, shops, cafes and pubs. You loved Ketterdam, and its people. Even though your jobs were different from the ones you did back in Ravka, you prefer Ketterdam.

No one looks twice at you, everyone just minds their own business. And people know there are gangs, so they don't question someone hiding weapons in their clothes or having bruised knuckles. You could really do anything you wanted without someone giving you funny looks.

Back in your apartment that night, you pause in the doorway. Even though the sun had been out all day, it's cold. Most of your neighbours had gone to bed already, so there was no one for you to greet as you'd walked the stairs.

Ignoring the wave of loneliness that washed over you, you shrug off your coat and take off your boots. You put your weapons away and make yourself a last cup of tea before getting ready for bed.

You'd have to wake up early tomorrow, given that you intended to arrive at the museum earlier than the crows. It would be an easy job. A bunch of letters were far more easier to smuggle out of the museum than a large painting. You didn't have anything to worry about.

The next day, it's cold outside but you can tell by the sky it's going to be another sunny day. After a quick breakfast, you get dressed, hide your weapons beneath your clothing, and lock the door of your apartment behind you.

As you're walking to the museum, you don't bother to look for the crows. They wouldn't arrive til 11. You pay for an entry ticket and enter the museum.

You still remember the hallways from the last time you were there. You walk around and see the room where the DeKappel had been is sealed off.

Resisting the urge to linger, you keep on walking, looking for the letters Kaz had talked about. Slowly, the museum starts to get more crowded. It would indeed be easy to lose someone in the crowd.

You follow a large group of tourists and finally see the letters. After waiting for the tourists to leave, you step closer to the letters. They don't seem very valuable to you. They're just letters. The handwriting is so elaborate you're having a hard time reading it.

You take out your watch and see it's barely 10. You'd walk around the museum, get back here in time, wait for Wylan's distraction and snatch the letters away from their showcase.

But before you can walk off again, you hear a voice besides you.

'Impressive, right?'

You whirl around to see Kaz standing next to you.

'What are you doing here?' you hiss, frantically looking around to see if you can spot any other crows.

'Visiting a museum.' says Kaz in a very casual voice. 'What else would I be doing here?'

'Cut the crap, Brekker, we both know why you're here.' you say.

Instead of answering you, Kaz merely looks at you and almost smirks. He takes out a watch of his own, and then you hear an explosion big enough to make the walls of the room shake. Wylan's distraction.

Before you can move to grab a hold of the letters, Kaz has given you a sharp poke with his cane, making your left arm go numb. You offendedly open your mouth and watch as he quickly smashes the glass and takes the letters.

'Two can play a game.' he says as he takes off, disappearing in the panicking crowd.

It's like those words bring you back to reality. You force your legs to move as you run after him, ignoring the fact you can barely use your left arm.

People are pushing you and running in all directions as you're desperately trying not to lose Kaz. You see the back of his head in the crowd and only seconds later he's gone.

As you're making your way through the crowd, you bump into a tall figure.

Jesper is grinning down at you. 'Now Kaz is the one to finally outsmart you.' he says. 'See you around, Y/N!'

And he's gone just as fast as he appeared.

'Fuck.' you mutter as you push through the crowd toward the exit. You had to find them before they could take off.

Outside, the sun is shining and people are running from the museum in every direction. You squint your eyes due to the bright sunlight and try to spot the crows.

But as the last people leave the museum, you have to admit they got away.

This time, Kaz Brekker was the one to outsmart you.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[parkersbliss]

Hey how have you been? Can I request a jesper fahey x short!reader with prompt 35 and 36? Thank you, have nice day!

<3

What? | J. Fahey

prompts: 035: “Don’t look at me like that.” 036: “You’re so cute.” “Stop trying to distract me from the mess in front of me.”

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

“What?” You asked.

“What?” Jesper replied.

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Not.”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Yes…?”

“It’s weird! Quit it!”

Jesper does the complete opposite of what you said and proceeds to cup his chin in his hands and make heart eyes at you.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Why not?” He pouts. “I can’t admire my girlfriend?”

“Your girlfriend is going to kick your ass if you keep that up.”

Jesper laughs, standing up. “I’d like to see you try, baby.”

“You’re an asshole,” You said, standing in front of him.

His bottom lip sticks out. “So tiny and cute.”

“You do realize I’m at the perfect height to punch you in the balls, right?”

Jesper backs up at that. “Okay, well maybe don’t do that.”

“Then stop calling me cute and tiny!”

“I’m being honest!”

“I don’t care!”

“I love it when you’re feisty.”

“I love it when you shut up,” You retort.

The door creaks open and Inej and Nina step inside. Your back is faced towards them and you’re so busy yelling at Jesper to notice them. Nina is carrying a cake and Inej, many party decorations. They give Jesper a thumbs up as they creep across the hall. Your birthday was approaching and Jesper had been put in charge to keep you distracted.

Under normal circumstances, he would’ve taken you out of the house, but it was raining.

Jesper wiggles his brow at you. “You say that and yet you always tell me in bed—”

“Finish that sentence, Fahey. I dare you.”

“I could easily pick you up, you know that?”

“I could stab you.”

“You are so violent!”

“I’m friends with Kaz.”

Jesper can’t argue with that. He just pats your head like a child, knowing it will get a reaction out of you. You slap his hand away, cheeks flushed.

He just laughs, eyeing the door. Kaz, Wylan and Matthias should be here any second now. You follow his line of sight, “What?”

“Nothing!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s definitely something.”

You’re about to turn around when the door unlocks and Jesper grabs your wrist, pulls you to his chest.

“Let go of me,” You mumble into his shirt, to stubborn to actually admit you liked the feeling of his arms around you.

“Nope,” He replies as Kaz steps through the door. His chin is resting on your head and your arms are placed loosely on his waist.

Kaz takes one look at the two of you and makes nothing of it before gesturing to the others. Matthias is carrying a ladder and Wylan tags along beside him, but as Matthias turns a corner Wylan gets smacked in the face and cries out.

Kaz shushes him, pulling the boy to his feet by his shirt and Matthias shrugs.

You push away from Jesper, “Was that Wylan?”

“No! It was me.”

“You?”

“Yup!”

You don’t bother giving him another sassy response and instead turn around.

“You’re so cute!” Jesper blurts, but it’s too late.

You roll your eyes. “Stop trying to distract me from the mess in front of me.”

Wylan holds his cheek in his hand, his other hidden behind him. Kaz’s are also both behind him, but you don’t question it.

“Matthias, why do you have a ladder?”

“So you can access the books on your top shelf easier,” Kaz steps in.

The glare you send Kaz is terrifying, but Kaz being Kaz, doesn’t even flinch.

“I hate you all.”

“Valid,” Wylan said.

You turn back around and they run down the hall, streamers and a huge banner that said happy birthday hiding behind them.

Jesper laughs nervously when you give him the same dirty look from earlier.

You punch him in the stomach and he doubles over with a groan, but then you’re cupping his face and kissing him.

“Honestly, fuck you Jesper.”

“Rather fuck you, sweetheart.”

“I’ll seriously going to punch you in the balls next time.”

“Got it.”

[kindness-ricochets]

ur thoughts on wylan and kaz? as characters or ur general hc's for them together after soc or anything else. just ur general thoughts on these characters in tandem.

In writing my response, I rambled for a bit and may and may not have actually answered your question... so while I hope this interests you and is what you meant, feel free to drop a line if I completely missed the mark!

They’re perfect opposites—by which I mean entirely different in all the ways they’re the same.

Wylan and Kaz share an almost absolute emptiness of coherent thought regarding themselves, Wylan emotionally and Kaz physically. Kaz always pushes himself too hard, he never sleeps, he’s basically made of coffee and spite. Wylan can overlook any level of mistreatment because he is so thoroughly conditioned to it, except that he genuinely believes this can be a form of love.

As a result, both deal with grievous personal wrongs using a loved one as a proxy.

Kaz has every reason to hate Pekka Rollins as the architect of his trauma and sometimes he does acknowledge this. He’ll have lines about Pekka taking everything from him. That he “had a lot of things”. It’s about Jordie, always. Avenging Jordie’s death is a perfectly valid motivator, but Kaz takes it to an extreme degree. (This is an interesting contrast between him and Inej, too. Inej recognizes that what was done to her was wrong; though deeply traumatized by it, she is able to recognize that she was mistreated, that she can seek revenge for herself and others like her.)

Wylan has every reason to hate his father. But he doesn’t. Not only doesn’t he, he blames himself every time. Jan wanted a real son, a proper heir, it’s Wylan’s fault; who else would love him enough to be honest with him? It’s only when he learns about Marya that Wylan can begin to process what his father truly is. Eight years of abuse culminating in attempted murder and public humiliation is one thing… not at all intended to downplay the horror of Marya’s situation, not at all! Just that it’s the only way Wylan is able to begin to process his feelings toward his father.

Maybe as an aspect of this, maybe as a coincidence to it, both are very conscious of the people are them—it’s just that Kaz’s consciousness is ruthlessly pragmatic while Wylan’s is sweet. Kaz is always aware of every player, how to use them, and how to manipulate them. Wylan is concerned—about Jesper losing his guns, about Nina catching cold in her skimpy outfit, about Alys who was sweet and silly and meant no harm to anyone. A perfect example is their conversation about Jesper.

[“]Who knows? Jesper may even win his revolvers back.” “I hope so,” said Wylan as they hopped onto a browboat crowded with tourists and headed south down the Stave. “You would.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Someone like Jesper wins two hands and starts to call it a streak. Eventually he loses, and that just leaves him hungrier for the next run of good luck. The house relies on it.” Then why make him walk into a gambling den?

Both have a personal connection to Jesper; Kaz does his closest approximation to loving him as a brother, while Wylan’s little crush is starting to feel like maybe something more. And they have opposite approaches to his addiction. Kaz uses it. Ruthlessly. (Granted, this is Kaz at his lowest, but it’s not especially different from how he treated Jesper in the beginning of Six of Crows.) Wylan wants to acknowledge his problem and help him avoid his addiction. He doesn’t want Jesper to have to suffer the loss of something important to him. This also shows in how Wylan and Kaz think about each other. Near the end of Six of Crows, Kaz essentially thinks that he doesn’t care about Wylan’s dyslexia because Wylan has other talents, other uses. Wylan thinks near the middle of Crooked Kingdom that he knows Kaz had other motives, but he still helped Wylan a lot, and is a friend. Kaz’s evaluations are weighed by use, Wylan’s by emotional impact.

Now I’m going to get nerdy. Even more so. When I did developmental psychology, my favorite was always Erikson, who essentially broke human development into stages of crisis and resolution. The 4th is “industry vs. inferiority”—basically, competence. And they resolve to extreme opposite ends of the spectrum. Kaz is industrious, competent and capable, determined from the moment he was reborn in that canal. He doesn’t stop. He makes plans and acts on them. Wylan feels inferior, and often struggles—even with things he knows how to do, he needs to be told to do them, or can’t quite put two and two together about the situation around him. (The fact that Wylan’s crisis comes to a more positive resolution, that he begins to develop competence, throughout Crooked Kingdom is… frankly, wonderful. Wylan wasn’t inherently bad at things. He just didn’t have support to grow.)

These opposite resolutions also relate to where they fall on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Kaz is left without the most basic things, physiological and safety needs, things like food, water, and shelter. He has to adapt and he has to adapt fast—because he’s alone. And if he’s going to survive, if he’s going to see Jordie given justice, he needs to get to work. Wylan has those needs met, placing him at the point of psychological needs—belongingness, love, esteem. Jan took care of Wylan’s basic needs, but dealt him blow after blow toward his psychological needs through isolation and emotional abuse. This highlights another difference: Kaz’s damage wasn’t dealt by someone who hated him. Pekka was just indifferent. The Barrel was full of lost children who would take a mouthful of bread from a weaker boy because they needed it to survive. It was indifference, for Kaz. But for Wylan, it was at best disdain, at worst hatred.

This sets them apart from the other Crows. Inej was 14 when she was taken by slavers. Jesper was around 16 when he was sent to Ketterdam for university. Nina was 16 or 17 when the Fjerdans took her captive. Matthias was I think 11 when he lost his family, which places him just on the cusp of two of Erikson’s stages, but the relevant resolution is to the fifth stage of identity vs. confusion—basically, “Who am I, and who can I become?” Those four developed competence in a more or less healthy way (purely in terms of competence since two were basically child soldiers, but still). Whereas Kaz overcompensates with relentlessness and Wylan freezes up. Both have this sort of jagged place inside them at exactly that point, that the others simply don’t have.

To me, this explains why Kaz and Wylan have the weakest balance between personal and professional lives. Kaz is always plotting, scheming. He has to learn to take a break from the monster and be the man. Wylan is locked up in his own mind. In his first narrated chapter, his first narrated page, he tells us that he feels out of place and doesn’t even know where to put his hands to look normal. Kaz is ready to take over the world while Wylan just wants to exist in his own little corner of it.

[southslates]

we fell in stages / ao3 / 1474 words / one-shot / canon-compliant / kanej, one sided kaz/jesper, inej & jesper / rated T

Inej didn’t need to ask Jesper if he liked Kaz. It was obvious. He knew he was obvious. He couldn’t see the boy’s stupid face without having a heart attack, and that fact pained him.

Jesper knew Inej was good at uncovering secrets, so perhaps his ill-wanted crush wasn’t as clear as he thought it was, still. He hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t know how he would face the belief that Kaz knew how he felt about him and didn’t care—or used him for it.

All the Saints.

He loved Inej, but he hated it was Inej. He loved her and all that she was but he resented her for having Kaz. Because she had him—neither of them knew it, but Jesper knew both of them well enough. It was always Inej at Kaz’s windows, in his rooms, walking through the streets with him at night. It was always Inej who Kaz’s eyes traced over the rooftops, it was always her who he chose to be alone with.

Kaz Brekker was a terrible guy. Jesper knew it, and that had drawn him in towards him in the first place, had him say yes to the deal Kaz had attempted to strike with him. But he was attractive and his ruthlessness had its own kind of charm. But then Jesper grew to learn that confidence was not callousness. For a long time he’d had his doubts that Kaz was even human.

But of course he was—of course—Inej—

And Inej was perfect for Kaz. That pained even more. Inej and Kaz fit together in ways nobody else in the Dregs did—they could speak with their eyes and just their lips. They could speak facing away from each other. Wherever Kaz went, Inej followed—and though the bastard of the Barrel would be loath to admit it, the opposite was true too.

“Why?” Inej asked Jesper, leaning on his bunk. She was fluid as water, and they were talking about the raid they’d led the previous night on a house in the Geldin District. Kaz had wanted documents from a mercher’s house, some kind of correspondence, and he and Inej had gone to find them while Jesper stayed outside as backup, twirling his guns in the nightlight. The roles made sense—he would have been terrible at committing the crime—but seeing them both disappear up a window together made his heart pound.

He'd comforted himself with the fact that Kaz was a monster and that Kaz could feel nothing. He needed to stop pining for someone who wasn’t capable of returning his feelings. It had been fine. He had been coping.

And then on the way back they’d been quietly bantering, the three of them, in a way they were almost prone to do. Kaz had said something about Ghezen and kruge—his true loves—and Inej had shook her head at him, said something disparaging about religion, and fell while she was staring at him.

Kaz didn’t move to pick her up. Kaz Brekker wouldn’t do that. But his eyes tracked all her limbs as she lifted herself off the ground, as though checking if she was safe, and then flew to her face when she laughed the blunder off. Inej turned away after that, but Jesper saw the look in Kaz’s eyes as he followed the light sound of her voice.

They almost softened. He hadn’t seemed like a monster in that moment. He seemed like a teenager, as though he could follow that sound for the rest of his days.

Jesper had felt a bullet in his chest, because Kaz was his best friend, but he had never looked at Jesper that way. Kaz hadn’t seemed to notice—or care—about his attitude for the rest of the night, but Inej noted his sullen behavior. And now she was here.   

“What?” he reclined on his bed and twirled his pistol around once. Inej sat in the corner, legs crossed, facing the door. She was always ready for someone to come for her—that was the life she had with Kaz. He thought about the coil of her hair and the fondness he felt for her, as a sister. He thought about everything but what she meant.

“What happened last night, Jesper?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m aware Kaz is severely lacking when it comes to emotional intelligence—”

“And you’re that for him.”

Inej’s dark brow twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing—I just—nothing happened, alright. Do you want to go—”

She took out a knife and tapped it against the ground. It wasn’t a threat, just a quirk—like him pulling out his revolvers—but it made Jesper take in a deep breath. “Jesper.”

“Yes?”

“Speak to me.”

“I am.”

She seemed disappointed. “You were angry at Kaz last night.”

“Aren’t you? Aren’t we all? Perpetually?” he tried.

She stepped forward and onto the bed with him, pressing a calming, warm hand to his thigh. She reminded him of his mother, in a way. Their presences felt familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He gave up. “You know, already,” he groaned. “Do I have to say it?”

Inej loved words, far more than Kaz did. She never showed him anything—she said what she felt out loud. She was nothing like Kaz in that regard, and Jesper knew she could do so, so much better than a scheming, dark, monstrous man with dirty hands. He wanted to tell her that, but he couldn’t. Not when he wanted the same.

“No,” Inej said. “You don’t have to say it.” She reached out for his hand and held it, and Jesper wanted to cry. It did look like his mother’s, against his skin. It felt like peace. And for a moment Jesper took in the gravity of his ridiculous, stupid life. He liked the worst criminal in the Barrel. His best friend was a spy. He was a murderer.

He used his other hand to twist his guns. He’d left his father behind and now he just wanted to feel wanted. He didn’t know why he felt this way for someone who—even if he returned Jesper’s feelings—would be terrible at doing so. Kaz and Inej fit together. He knew it. He’d find someone to fit him, eventually. “I don’t get why it has to be him,” he said miserably. “There’s so many people in Ketterdam and I don’t know why I think about him.”

Inej fit her head against his shoulder. The way she pressed her body calmly to the side of his pistol, trusting him, felt odd and made him want to act hysterical. “I don’t, either.”

“He loves you,” Jesper said. Inej scoffed, but he pressed further. “He doesn’t know it, but he does. He cares about you.”

“He doesn’t know how,” Inej said, but Jesper knew that he’d gotten in her head. He wondered if he could give her all that he felt.

“You deserve better. Than this life, than him, than me.”

“I don’t have him,” Inej told Jesper. “I doubt anyone ever will. He drives me mad,” she admitted. “I don’t know what we’re doing. Either of us. I feel like I’m reading him wrong. I hate it. I feel like he knows everything about me and I have to wring everything from him. I—I don’t have him,” she repeated. Then she bent against him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jesper said. “It happens.”

“The Suli like to say,” Inej turned her face to him, “that to love can—”

“I don’t love him,” Jesper said quickly, blushing, glad the blood going to his cheeks wasn’t quite visible. He didn’t love Kaz. He’d thought about it, but he didn’t.

“To feel, then,” Inej almost winced, “can sometimes be worse than the pain of a thousand bullets. It hurts in a different place than a wound. It cannot always be healed. But I know you will be, Jesper. You’re very strong.”

“You’re the best,” Jesper said. He meant it. They sat there for another few hours, and Jesper thought about Kaz’s terrible, beautiful face, the way he limped, how powerful he seemed—he was younger than Jesper—how he was always seeing the world in different dimensions, four steps ahead of everyone else, and yet didn’t understand people so well. “He needs to realize that.”

Inej got up to leave, but before she did she turned to him. “I hope he will. I know who I am.”

Her voice almost cracked and Jesper set his pistols down and laid down in his bed. Kaz and Inej hurt to think about, but he loved them enough to place his own feelings aside for a bit. Resentment had no place here. He could grow past this. He could trust them enough to figure each other out, too.

[booksforevermore13]

Sherry Lips and Crystal Stars (Part I)

Summary: 'So, when they break away, and he looks at her, green to brown, she knows that he's the one. That in the end, he had always been the one.'

Ginny Weasley works on a strict owe-to-owe basis, but it's one person she can never fully repay. And she's always running from him. Always. Until Kaz Brekker needs her to recruit him for a highly coveted kidnapping.

A/N: This becomes one of the first MCs I have ever written, and this was, at first, meant to be a one-shot (note the word meant), but I evidently let myself get carried away.

Therefore, this extremely obscure Shadow and Bone (the show) AU is the result of the Harry and Ginny Discord's Birthday Challenge 2021! It's basically set in the Crows' part of the show (to all those who know what I'm talking about), but to all those who have no knowledge of it, you don't need to. In fact, you absolutely don't need to familiar with the show or the books, to understand it, and I would be honoured if you decide to give this a read, and, in the end, or whenever you want, leave a review :D.

Above all, I hope you enjoy, because I loved, loved writing this!

Read it on Fanfiction or AO3 if you prefer!

PART I

i.

"I know what a million kruge means to me. What does it mean to you?" he asks, but she knows it's directed at her. He knows that she's the one most hesitant. That she's the one who needs it more than anyone here. Maybe even him.

"Freedom," she answers and she doesn't hesitate. She can't let him see her doing so. But she doesn't lie.

Weirdly, when he looks away, she can't tear her eyes away from him but after, when he finally glances at her, the briefest of briefest glances, she looks away first.

She doesn't know why.

"Fun," Jesper chuckles. "Like, at least a few months."

Why and how, they govern her life. Most of the time, she couldn't begin to explain why. That's what differs her from everyone here. The weight of anonymity lies heavy on her, not them.

So when it's Arken's turn and he doesn't miss a beat, she doesn't question why. "Retirement," he states simply, and her eyes can't help but stray to the scars peeking out from under his sleeve.

They're trivial needs, for her (for them?) and for a second, she wishes she had them too.

"Right, so we press on."

Her eyes are set on not looking at him, but when he walks past her, the opposite side of where they should have been heading, that's when she looks up.

"Where are you going?"

He doesn't answer her.

"Jesper, go with Arken," and he limps over to where the two of them are standing, handing Jesper a stash of kruge.

"Inej, come."

His boots strike the gravel, but they don't make a sound. Inej follows.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't trust him," he says, when they've turned a corner. "Arken."

"And you're still letting him take us across the Fold?" She's never understood him. One minute, she feels she's known him forever, the next, he's the boy she knew as the Bastard of the Barrel. She's always trusted him while he was both.

"He's a means to the end."

"To the end?"

When she looks around, she doesn't know where they are, where he's taking her, and even though she knows he'll never take her anywhere dangerous, at least, not without telling her, her hands are by her knives, ready for the slightest sign of trouble.

"A way out."

Kaz turns around, and as Inej follows, she sees a girl by the shadows - but the girl isn't hiding. If she'd seen her in a crowd, she'd have remembered her.

But she hadn't.

ii.

"Brekker."

"Ginevra." Ginny holds back a smile. It's been a year, but she's glad he still knows what to call her.

For a second, she does consider smiling, something she had always felt free to do around him, before he'd become Dirtyhands, before he'd become the leader of the Dregs, and after; but she doesn't. For once, Kaz is not by himself.

This time, he's with a girl. The Wraith, as he'd told her when they'd met last. And Wraith she might be, but Ginny didn't know her.

"Something tells me you need me for something."

She lets her weight fall against the wall, but she doesn't look at Kaz. Instead, she looks at the girl, who stands unflinchingly beside him, unnatural, because something about the way she was standing tells her that this girl trusts Kaz the same way she does. Maybe even more.

Ginny isn't surprised though, seeing the three daggers lodged against her waist, and one peeking out from under her sleeve, two more under her belt, but it's her hand on her knife that catches her eye. It's sickening to see, but she's glad there's someone else other than her and him who's as paranoid as them.

So she smirks, and takes her weight off the wall. "Tell your friend to ease up," she announces loudly and there's a twinge of sick satisfaction as she sees the girl's face mold into slight surprise. She hides it well.

Ginny's heard of the Wraith, never seen her before.

Kaz nods, glancing at the girl, and Ginny's eyes flicker as something unheard passes between them.

She's never seen Kaz do that before.

But when he looks at her again, she forces her face back into a line, and into a smirk.

"What? What is it you want?"

"A favour."

She scoffs, stepping forward slightly. "I don't do favours," she says, "nor do you."

"Consider this an investment."

He needs her, she realises. Needs her bad. Needs her fast.

Part of her wants to say no, all of her wants to say no. But she owes him, even though he doesn't know that. She hasn't bothered to tell him all these years, and she is no mind to do so now, but it's that part of her that worries her, the part that makes sure she doesn't have any red on her ledger, that she doesn't owe anyone anything.

The other part of her knows she'll probably regret this, but this was a chance, she figured. Kaz worked on 'owe-and-give', so did she, and this was a chance to wipe her name off his chart.

So it's that part of her which makes her say yes.

And when she does, it takes everything in her to not snap Brekker's neck for that glint in his eye. He'd known she wouldn't refuse. Known her too well. He smirks, then turns to the girl, says something she misses.

The girl hesitates but nods, and part of her wonders how she had trusted him so readily. So easily. It had taken her years to place that sort of confidence in him, years for him to reciprocate.

There were few who trusted Kaz Brekker; she'd learned too quickly. Fewer he trusted.

She follows the girl's steps, watches as she scales the wall and disappears over it. She has an elegance to her Ginny'd never achieved before, never begun to understand. But then, that had been the very reason he'd named her the Wraith. And rightly so.

"So," she begins, well after the girl has left, "last time we met, her name was Inej. What's it now?"

"Still Inej," Kaz curtly replies, and there is defiance in his eyes, and something she can't quite put her finger on. "She's not that type of girl."

He's protective over her.

It is nearly endearing to watch.

"What is her type then?" she mocks, enjoying the way he tries not to react. She's the only one who can press his buttons like that. She takes pride in it.

Kaz doesn't answer (she hadn't expected him to), merely raising a distasteful eyebrow, and Ginny shakes her head, still laughing, but it's mere seconds later she sobers down.

"Out with it then," she says. "You wouldn't have come to me if you weren't in a spot of trouble."

"I need you to find him."

"No."

There. There it was. The bomb. The explosive. And that's all she needs to say. All she's thinking. She has a lot she owes Kaz Brekker for, but she isn't going to do this. She isn't going to find him.

When she had said yes to their agreement, she'd thought he'd want her to steal something, kill someone (with all due respect). She was his hitman, woman, and he'd never told her to take an innocent life. Not once. And it was rarely the other.

"No," she says again, and her anger flares up at the dismissive look he still has on his face. "Brekker," she says quietly, "you can go find someone else to do your work for you. I want out if that is what it takes."

"What if I say I have something you'd want?" His voice is quiet, and if she wasn't quite so close to him, she'd have missed it.

"I'd say no."

"You," Kaz smirks, "owe him."

Ginny stills.

"What if I say I have something you could use to clear your debt?"

He'd trapped her. And she'd let him.

"I….." she falters. "It depends. On what you have."

"A location."

Her eyes widen, her breath stills. She knew there were few things he couldn't do. She thought this was one of them.

But a location is what she'd needed. What she has needed all along.

Ginny turns away from him, and slips her hand in her pocket, holding the medallion tight. It had remained her one lead on the man who'd killed her family, the one who'd ruined her life. It had remained her one chance.

This was another. But for this, she'd need him. He was the only one powerful enough.

"How long do you have?" she asks, and she turns around to see Kaz's face change. She smirks.

iii.

She knows where he is. While he'd always had the upper-hand, Kaz had been wrong. Ginny wouldn't have to find him. She's always known. All along.

She owed him. She never let a man she owed out of her sight.

"How long will it take?" Kaz asks, but she only glares at him in answer.

"As long as he needs."

Inej looks at her, then at him. Ginny isn't surprised to see that she no longer had the ice in her eyes, the contempt she regarded her with before. Now the ice had been replaced with fire, and that was almost comforting. The latter was easier to play with, easier to face.

Whatever Kaz had told her, it had clearly been enough to make her hate Ginny a bit less. She'd have to change that.

Ginny glares at him again and in a flash of fury, her hands reach for the knife she'd seen Inej holding earlier that day, snapping it out of her holster, fitting it in under her own belt. It's petty, but petty's what she wants at the moment.

And though Inej moves quickly, Ginny's no less, tripping her up, hoping she'd fall. She doesn't, much as Ginny had expected, and when she looks at her again, the girl's face is contorted in rage, twin daggers clasped in each of her hands.

"Now, now, don't want us to be hasty, do we?" she says, and she's glad her voice is coming out so flippant, so dismissive.

Ginny doesn't flinch as a dagger lodges by her head, against the wall, nicking her ear. A drop of blood trickles down, and part of her is satisfied that she'd been able to get a rise out of the girl.

Blood for blood.

"I'll return this when I come back," she says, twirling the knife in her hand. "If."

"You will give it here. Now."

She wonders why the knife held such value to her. It wasn't flashy enough to bring a good sum in the market, nor was it old enough to be a family trinket. Her thumb runs down its hilt, pausing when it comes by carved letters on its underside.

"Sankta Marya," she reads off the metal. Saint Marya. When she glances up at her again, she's slightly taken aback by the unease clouding her eyes. Behind her, stands Kaz.

Ginny moves quickly then, moving down the alley, under the tunnel, to its end. She'd never meant her thievery, petty as it was, to be of such adversity. She wasn't interested in messing with Brekker's girl. The Wraith.

"I'll be sure to bring her back to you," she calls back as she rounds the corner. Her words hold little value - after all, they are just words.

On second thought, she realizes she doesn't care.

"Or not."

Ginny doesn't miss the clink of the dagger against the wall she'd been standing in front of, a mere second ago.

She can't help but grin.

iv.

They call her the Rogue.

Ginny never wanted to be her.

It's amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm but there she is, standing in front of the building she knew he'd be in.

But then he's always there. Weighing heavily in her mind. That's perhaps why she wants him off her charts, why she needs to get rid of him in her life.

She doesn't take the entrance. She walks by the walls, her right hand on the rough bricks, feeling them scratch against her palms, sensing the parts where the cement had fallen prey to wreckage. When she finds her place, she wills the bricks there to move, the atoms to rearrange, the molecules to shift. And when they do, she's left with a hole in the wall, big enough for her to get in and get out. She's chosen a spot not travelled much, but even so, as she steps into a room she can only assume as the basement, she wills the bricks back in place.

Ginny's out of the door in a flash, the lockpicker safely back under her belt. She walks down the corridors, up the steps. Her back is to the main entrance as she makes her way to the stairs, and she's thankful she's dyed her hair black, for no one looks twice at her.

When she reaches the top level of the building, his office, or at least, what they call it, it's not hard to find. It's in the corner, and while all the other rooms are flocking with people, his is barren. Empty.

But she knows he's in there.

And she's right, for when she reaches the end, she sees him through the glass, his back towards her and his face towards the window.

Her heart skips a beat, seeing his eyes on the glass, their reflection. She hates that a mere glimpse of him can twist her heart like that, but she doesn't know if it's the familiarity or just the sight of him that unnerves her.

Ginny slips in, not making a sound, and wills the glass to change. She can't afford to let people see them together.

She knows he's aware of her there but when he turns around, she doesn't look at him, for she looks only at the glass, and not him, never him, but he's watching, and she's waiting until the glass is fully opaque. Avoiding him.

"Gin."

Ginny gasps sharply, for it's her name. It's her name, the name he calls her with, and it's the name that's completely and entirely belonged to her. It's different hearing his voice say that name, and it's painfully jarring, reminding, and she hates it.

"Don't call me that."

It's then she looks at him, his green eyes, nothing but reminiscent of what she once had been. They remind her of the sea on a cloudy day, where it reveals little blue, just the green shining through its depths.

He isn't surprised, but his eyes hold emotion she could never begin to understand.

"What should I call you then?"

"Not what you used to." Her words are sharp, inflicting, but she wants it that way.

He nods, but the look in his eyes has changed.

Ginny holds out the medallion, the family crest. The metal is cold against her fingers, a cold that holds the promise of misery. She wishes to be done with it quickly. "Malfoy Manor," she says, but he makes no move to take it from him.

He shakes his head, and she knows he doesn't understand.

"It's where the Mercher is," she explains. "It's where Riddle is."

Information. A location. It's half the job done.

But it doesn't feel any different, none that freeing, and even though logic states that she has, in a way done the job for him, found his guy for him and no longer owes him anything more, it still feels as if she's trapped. Held back. Suffocating.

She doesn't feel any relief.

"How?" he wonders, and when he gently takes the medallion from her, she makes sure their fingers don't touch. "How did you find this?"

"I think the question here should be why I gave you this."

He looks at her then, and there's an unfocused look in his eyes, and she knows he's already there, at the Manor, plotting his play. But then they come back to her, and he looks at her with a longing she'd once been glad to see, but now, it's positively jarring.

She stares back at them, and she knows there's a thousand ways she can answer her question.

But only one she can say.

"This is not a favour," she says, "this is payment. For what I need from you."

And for what you did.

"What do you need me for?"

"Brekker."

"What does…" He stops midway, for he knows he's not getting an answer. Instead, his eyes change, and Ginny feels it's a game, set by him, solved by her, the mystery held in his eyes. Hers are blank, unexpressive, how she'd always wanted them to be. Lately, she'd been regretting it. But his? His, she couldn't begin to explain.

"I have to go," he says, "and I have to finish this."

She struggles to keep her smile in. For everything she owed him, she's always admired how selfless he was. After everything, it just meant she hadn't been wrong about him.

"I know," she breathes in, looking at him. "I know, Harry."

For some reason, she can't bring herself to call him Potter.

[anonniemousefics]

My Dearest Inej | Chapter Four

Chapter Masterlist

Originally posted on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up

Synopsis: A series of letters kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

Chapter Four: The Hot Air Balloon Ride

My dearest Inej,  

These new treats you’ve sent us from Shu Han are interesting. Wylan and I have been trying to figure out how to open them. Jesper thought he had it figured out (I tried to warn him) and ended up eating wax. Don’t tell me. I’m going to work this out.

Speaking of the wax-eater, Jesper’s birthday is fast approaching, and, given the amount of painfully obvious hints that Wylan has been dropping, I can tell I’m expected to purchase gift. I could use your advice. This is the one thing about being disgustingly rich that I had not taken into account before the Van Eck affair: buying gifts for rich people is impossible. And why should I even? Jesper can buy himself whatever he wants whenever he wants it. That was literally the entire point of the Ice Court and the Van Eck affair. Why am I buying him a birthday gift again? I should be exempt.

This is truly amazing. I am still penning this letter, and I can already tell you’re glaring at me as you read this. Remarkable. How are you doing that? I have to know. I would also like to be able to project my rage and disgust through time and space.

I’ve been hesitant to ask when you’ll be returning to Ketterdam next. I imagine there’s some sort of deficit now, after you spent the extra travel helping after the fire. But I’m bracing myself now. Go on, I can take it. What’s it to be? Five months? Six months? As long as the answer isn’t never, I’ll be at Fifth Harbor whenever you want me.  

Yours,

K. Brekker

P.S. – You’re sure you didn’t accidentally send us just a fancy box of wax, right?

P.P.S. – Never mind. Got it. Toffees are better.

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

My surprising, delightful Inej,

You probably couldn’t tell, since I don’t possess your otherworldly command of projecting human emotion through dimensions of time and space, but I was actually smiling when I read your letter. I had no idea you were planning on stopping back for Jesper’s birthday. This is great news. That’s, what, three weeks from now? You spoil us.  

I have to be honest, though, I really hate your idea. An experience as a birthday gift? This sounds like work. This sounds like the exact opposite of why we all nearly died trying to get rich. Inej, love. Please. Don’t do this to me.  

Ugh, you’re doing it again. The inter-dimensional glaring. If this is what having a conscience feels like, I’d like to have it surgically removed as soon as possible. So, make a note: that’s the experience I want for my birthday.

Very well. An experience for Jesper. I’ll talk to Wylan for some ideas.  

I just had this sinking feeling in my gut – I don’t actually know when your birthday is. And that is something I should probably know. Don’t kill me. Just let me know in enough time to craft a proper experience. Since apparently this is what we do now.  

Could I just let Jesper shoot me? That would be experience he’d like. And then I don’t have to do anything.

Despite my trepidation, I remain,

Faithfully yours,

Kaz  

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

 Inej, I have to make this quick. Jesper’s getting nosy. These are the ideas Wylan and I have. Pick one so we don’t have to.  

Tickets to the Komedie Brute

Canal cruise with kvas tasting

Hot air balloon ride

Private dining experience in The Lid

Hiring a magician for an exclusive show

Shooting Kaz in a non-vital extremity so he can go home

The last one can be done in combination with any of the aforementioned. Just circle one (or two) and send back posthaste.

Yours,

Kaz

(Hot air balloon ride has been circled and the final suggestion aggressively crossed out multiple times.)

(The letter has been resent with a final note in Kaz’s handwriting)

This is literally my least favorite option, Inej.

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

(in an unaddressed envelope marked only “Inej – Please use discretion when reading”)

Inej,

I’m just going to hand you this letter tomorrow when you arrive, because I know I can’t say this, especially since I’m not sure we’ll have a chance to be alone before this evening. Gods, Inej, I am spiraling out about this. Just read this and help me think straight.

It’s this hot air balloon ride. I am genuinely not trying to be an ass right now. Let me just paint a picture for you:

What Wylan has described to me after he made the reservation is quite the close-knit, possibly romantic scenario. There’s wine and chocolate-dipped fruit and starlight, and I can tell he’s thrilled about all of it. Jesper will be, too. You picked a great option for him. But this ride is for all four of us. They’re going to be as they are – comfortable, close, enjoying each other as they do. And you and I. Well. We’re you and I. I can’t do this yet. I want to but I can’t, especially not in a tiny basket in the sky. Inej, I am freaking out. I do not want to vomit in a wicker basket hundreds of feet over unsuspecting tourists. Or worse, faint and fall out of said tiny basket to my inevitable death. Although, in the latter scenario, at least I won't have to concern myself with how the rest of the Dregs will react to my very public disgrace. While all of this would definitely make for an experience, I don’t think it’s what Wylan has in mind. This is exactly why I don’t do celebrations.

You’re going to be disappointed. I can already picture your face. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I am sorry I keep saying sorry when what you want to know is that this will have no echo. I can’t promise that yet. I suppose the word I’m looking for is regret. I am full of regret. I am so full of regret and disgust with myself that I might explode. Remember this is not you. This is not a reflection of how much I want you. How do I do this? How do I not turn this birthday into an absolute shitshow?

He really can’t just shoot me in the leg? It’s just a leg. It’s not like it was a fully-functioning leg to start with.

Help.

(addition in Inej’s handwriting)

Just wear your gloves. Do whatever you need to do. If you’d rather, I’ll stand on the complete opposite end of the basket and make faces at you all night. I’m honestly happy you’ve told me all this first, even if you did have to write it. This is far more preferable than you not saying anything at all and making yourself uncomfortable and angry all night. Now we can make a plan, and no one has to faint. This does not have to be a shitshow.  

Here is the plan: no one touches your skin tonight. I’ll cut anyone who even tries. Take all the personal space you require.

But no one’s going to shoot you, no matter how much you beg for it. Might as well let that one go.

Does this help?

(addition in Kaz’s handwriting)

You are an actual Saint, did you know that?    

Don’t stand on the opposite end of the basket, though, if you don’t mind. If you don’t find the gloves particularly offensive, I’d like to keep you nearby and at least attempt to be a little normal.  

Thank you for this, Inej. I owe you one.

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

To the one, the only, the indispensible Inej –

I don’t even know where to begin thanking you for a truly spectacular birthday. I expected nothing at all, and I have been completely blown away. Wylan said the hot air balloon ride was your idea – or rather, one of his ideas but you gave your stamp of approval. Easily the best moment of the night. You know me well. And your magic trick? We need to know the secret. You know what I’m talking about. How the hell did you convince Kaz to come along? He didn’t even seem particularly miserable, from what I could tell. I’ll confess to being a little preoccupied. Wylan really outdid himself. Hopefully, you both really did enjoy yourselves and you weren’t just lying for my sake.  

Thank you for coming. Thank you for caring. Thank you for planning. Just a thousand thank yous for being Inej and being around with all of your Inej-ness for my birthday. It was the cherry on top of a perfect night.  

I’m going to get you back. Prepare yourself for the best birthday of your life.

All my love,

Jesper  

P.S. – And thank you for the toffees. I’m not sure how you knew the exact moment we were all finally starting to crave them again. I don’t know whether to be impressed or afraid of how well you predict us. But I’m not going to think about it because there are toffees here again and all is well with the world.

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

Inej.

If I live to be a hundred, I won’t forget this night. I want to always remember the way you look in starlight. I’m going to bed remembering the look of your elated smile in the glow of the balloon. The way that laugh of yours echoed over the city. Forget inter-dimensional glaring. I want to know how you are able to take these seemingly mundane moments and turn them into cherished, joyous occasions. That’s not a trick. That’s actual magic that you do. I don’t know if I’ll ever be bored of it.

And in case you’re worried, I’m not writing intoxicated this time. I didn’t even taste the wine. If I’m drunk on anything, it’s remembering how it felt to hold you close while we floated over Ketterdam. The way you smiled up at me when I did. The way you held me back, and I felt miles away from the water in a way I’ve never felt before.

An experience as a gift. I get it now. No amount of kruge could have bought that moment. You are the devastation, Inej. You devastate my expectations in the best possible way.

Now focus on your task at hand. However long this next journey of yours takes, know that I am contented as I wait. I feel now as if I’m richer than I’ve ever been.

With all of my heart and without a shred of armor,

I’m yours,

Kaz

(found written on the back, translated from Suli)

Sankta Elizabeta.

Help me with this man and his dueling personalities.

When asked what he thought of the balloon ride that night, his single response in its entirety, and I quote:

“It was nice.”

What do I do with this?

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: death, trafficking references (Kerch indenture law), weapons, violence, murder, dehumanisation

AO3 link

Chapter 12 - Inej

“And exactly why do I care?” asked Kaz, coolly.

Kaz’s office at the Crow Club was by far the most difficult room to eavesdrop on in any of the Dregs’ main haunts, and Inej didn’t doubt that was why he had chosen it. Inej also didn’t find a lack of windows or accessibility at all off putting, and was currently laying flat on her front so she could just about squeeze into the space between Kaz’s ceiling and the floor above it. There was a gap between some of the slats, barely perceptible from below unless you were at the perfect angle, that Inej had found after only a few weeks of working with the Dregs when she was preparing herself for her first real job by trying to move about the Crow Club undetected. It proved a surprisingly simple task, but Inej had never been quite sure if Kaz knew that she was there. As she peered through the gap now she was gifted the slightly hazy image of Kaz, leaning back in his chair with his gloved fingers closed over the head of his cane, and the very edge of Jesper sitting opposite him at the desk. 

Perhaps Inej should feel guilty for spying on Kaz; here, outside his window at the Slat, through a vent above Per Haskell’s office. But it was him who had made her the Wraith, wasn’t it? You couldn’t train a falcon and expect it not to hunt. If he never bothered to tell her anything himself, she would have to find the information her own way. 

“You’re going to steal the secrets of the rich men of Ketterdam,” he’d told her, months ago, amongst a longer speech. It felt like years ago. It felt like days. “And I’m going to use that information to take that money,”

“What happens when you take their money, and you become a rich man?”

That had made him smile.

“Then you can steal my secrets too,”

Well, Inej had seen the books: Kaz was more than comfortably on his way to being rich. So what if she was jumping the gun a little? Of course she knew, or at least she supposed, that the dark shimmer of humour behind his words was because he would never be rich; no matter what money Kaz Brekker accrued, he lived in the worst slum in the Barrel, his cash wasn’t safe to just spend without thinking, he would always be DIrtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. When Kaz said rich he didn’t mean money, not always. He meant old money, real money, Geldin District money. Even Zelvar District; it was earned money, then, not old money, but five kruge from a lawyer would always be worth more than ten of Kaz’s ill-gotten gains. Plenty of people got rich in the Barrel - people like Pekka Rollins, and Tante Heleen - but no-one made real money. Inej had realised a long time ago that you couldn’t make real money, you could only inherit it and add more to the pile. 

“If you want to make anything off that kid-”

“If there’s truth to anything you’ve told me, Jesper, then I wouldn’t have been able to make a penny off him anyway. I’m cutting my losses,”

Inej had come late to the conversation, but she assumed they must be talking about Wylan. Once she’d got Jesper back to his dorm last night, she made him drink two glasses of water and then waited until he’d fallen asleep - it didn’t take long - before she went to find Nina and tell Kaz was calling them home.

“We’re not even hanging around tonight?”

Inej shook her head.

“Everything completely cancelled,”

“Damn,” Nina shook her head, “I owe him back for two weeks income now,”

They’d walked back to the Barrel together, bags in hand, following the waterway along the Southern border of the Financial District until they were at the very bottom of West Stave. Because of the canals and where the bridges were situated, they had to go up past the Crow Club before Inej could turn back towards the Slat. They stopped on the bridge and Nina put her arms around Inej’s shoulders.

“You sure you don’t want to come back to the Slat for a while?” asked Inej.

The sun was rising but Inej was going to try to get a few hours of sleep anyway, and she could tell that Nina was tired as well. But she shook her head, smiling. 

“No, I should get back. I probably have a thousand clients waiting,” she teased, “But I’ll be insisting on taking a nap first, I think,”

Inej stood and watched for a moment as Nina began to head North, and then slowly turned and began to wander back to the Slat. She was exhausted, and she thought she might have managed two hours of sleep since she got back and got everything sorted through, but as soon as she woke up she’d come to the Crow Club and found herself hiding inside Kaz’s ceiling. 

“You reckon she was already dead, or that The Peacock got her?” Rotty was saying to Anika and Pim as Inej walked through the door.

“Too clean,” said Anika, quieter than Rotty had, her words holding more melancholy where his did intrigue, “Nothing I’ve ever heard makes me think she does deaths that clean,”

Inej frowned, feeling a sudden alertness taking hold of her at the sound of that name. The Peacock. That was how the rest of the Barrel referred to Heleen Van Houden, but to her girls it was Tante Heleen or the back of her hand. 

“What happened?” she asked, turning to Rotty and the others.

None of them had realised she was there, and a surprised whisper of Wraith quickly flew between their mouths. She prompted again.

“The Leopard showed back up this morning,” said Rotty, “They found her a couple of hours ago. Dead,”

Inej shivered. At the Menagerie each girl was known by her animal counterpart; a Fjerdan wolf, a Shu serpent, a Zemeni fawn, a Kaelish mare. A Suli lynx. The Leopard was the costume worn by the girl from the Southern Colonies. Inej didn’t know her - no-one had been wearing that cloak when Inej was there, except for the last month of her indenture when a little scrap of a thing from the Colonies had shown up. They’d never spoken, in fact Inej had seen very little of her because the Leopard had spent most of that month in the room downstairs, but Inej had recognised her on the occasional time she crossed through West Stave. A pretty girl with blonde curls and deep brown eyes that looked more like they belonged to a doe, despite the spots painted on her neck and across her collar bones. She’d heard about her going missing because it happened right before she and Nina went to the university and she didn’t doubt rumours had flown across the staves - by all accounts, the Leopard was currently Heleen’s most popular item on display. Or she had been, anyway.

“How?”

“Strangled, it looks like. They left her on the steps outside the Menagerie, I heard the Peacock complaining it’s gonna reduce business,”

Inej’s hand drifted to her knives.

“Where’s Kaz?”

“In his office, with Fahey, last I saw,”

Inej nodded, then walked away and ignored the whispers that surely followed. She slipped upstairs; it was mostly private game rooms up here but none were populated this morning, and the staff room at the far end was probably empty or near it if the rooms weren’t currently in use. Inej slipped into the store cupboard above Kaz’s office and leant against the door, whispering a prayer for a girl with no name. 

“Demo,” said Jesper now, suddenly, as Kaz stood up.

Inej was pulled out of her thoughts. Kaz paused at the corner of his desk, leaning heavily against his cane as he turned back to see Jesper.

“Demo?”

“You said you want more hands on demolitions,” Jesper breathed, “Last week, I heard you telling Raske,”

Kaz conceded it with a nod. Inej was only mildly surprised; Raske was the best demolitions expert in the Barrel, but he was also one man and the only member of the Dregs who knew what he was doing with a bomb. 

“Wylan can do demo. He’s a chemist, Kaz, he can make anything,”

“You’ve seen his work?”

“Yes,”

Inej was pretty sure that was a lie, but apparently Kaz was either fooled or willing to be fooled, because he nodded slowly.

“What are you staking on it?”

Oh Saints, Kaz.

“What?”

“I’m not putting my neck on the line for no reason, Jes. I’ve already lost a lot of money this week, I don;t fancy adding to that. If this goes sideways or the kid isn’t any use to me I want compensation, and I know you don’t have any cash so I need some insurance. What are you staking?”

There was a long pause. An inexplicably long pause, actually. A noise behind Inej made her flinch and she had to restrain a gasp as one of the boards beneath her creaked. Kaz looked up, almost straight at the tiny gap Inej was peering through, but he mustn’t have been at the right angle because he only mused:

“Layla’s dropping my merchandise again,”

Layla waited tables at the Club, and had an unfortunate reputation for accidentally smashing rather expensive bottles and platters. Sometimes Inej wondered why Kaz kept her on, but then she saw her at the tables and knew exactly why; Layla could dazzle anything out of anyone, and she would sail back past Kaz and Inej armed to the teeth with political gossip for Inej to follow up on.

Silence fell back over the office for a time, but Inej could hear footsteps behind her now. Any minute Layla or another staff member could wander in and find her spying on Per Haskell’s best lieutenant, and probably - especially if word of the run-in with Velthuis and the Black Tips was spreading as quickly as she predicted it would - accuse of her of betraying the Dregs. Even though she trusted that Kaz knew she never would, that was a near-on impossible thing to come back from around here. Your gang was your family, and Inej already felt like she didn’t entirely belong. 

“Well?” asked Kaz, after another long moment had passed, “Am I doing this or not?”

Jesper stood up, unslung his gun belt, and dropped his prize revolvers onto Kaz’s desk. 

“Your insurance,”

Inej couldn’t see their faces properly, but she could imagine the exact arch of Kaz’s brow. 

“Alright then,” he said, walking towards the door, “I’m in,”

[sandalaris]

LATE! but for the fandom asks: BtVS and Shadow and Bone? 💖💖💖

BtVS

my favorite female character: At the moment it’s probably Faith. Her journey and her approach to slaying has always been fun and interesting, but I’ve been thinking more about the things that lead her there lately. The bad choices she made and what could’ve gone differently with a nudge here or there.

my favorite male character: Xander Harris. I know he’s grown some hate over the years, but I love him dearly. He still one of my favorite characters of all time to this day.

my favorite book/season/etc: Season five is the best in my opinion. I’m not even sure why, but its just so good. Or maybe it’s just the last really good season of BtVS, because I feel like the show went down hill after that.

my favorite episode (if its a tv show): Hush is just an amazing episode. They do a lot with so little spoken dialogue, and the misdirect with Tara was just awesome.

my favorite cast member: Anthony Stewart Head, I always like him in whatever I see him in.

my favorite ship: I have my OTP, Spike/Xander, but at the moment my favorite ship is Angel/Willow. Every now and then I get back on them and need content, I’m just so damn picky about them and they’re on the rarer side ship-wise in the fandom that I hardly ever find anything I like. :(

a character I’d die defending: Xander! >:( He gets way more hate than he deserves and I am not here for it. I won’t got into a big defense now, many people have done a better job than me at it anyways, but the amount of blind hatred he gets is staggering.

a character I just can’t sympathize with: Warren. It’s not just that he killed Tara, but he entire storyline is basically just him being bitter and angry that life isn’t “fair.” I’d argue that he got way more than deserved from life to begin with.

a character I grew to love: Cordelia Chase. During my first watch through, I didn’t care for Cordelia until about season three. I loved her after that, and she was probably my favorite part of AtS. 

my anti otp I will call it notp until I die!: Spike and Buffy. I shipped them for a half a moment when I stumbled across a random season five episode before I ever started watching the show. Then I actually watched the show and just wasn’t into them at all. It’s not that I don’t see the appeal they could hold for others, but they hold absolutely no appeal to me and I really don’t like the subplot of Spike being in love with Buffy that happened in season five. 

Shadow and Bone, possible spoilers ahead! You’re getting multiple answers for almost all of these, btw :P

my favorite female character: 

In the Shadow and Bones trilogy it is my girl Genya. She had some amazing lines/moments and she put with so much all for the chance at a better life. And she was this subtle badass, fighting back in her own small ways, like the method she used to poison the king. I’m a little disappointed they didn’t show the Queen all fake and plastic looking in the show considering how Genya would purposely tailor her just a little off as revenge. I still like her in the show, but she hasn’t yet grabbed me the way she did in the books. I actually don’t think I have a favorite female character in the show at this point.

Nina and Inej mostly tied as my favorites in the Six of Crows books, but Nina made me laugh more which gives her just a little bit of an edge. She’s fun and flirty and doesn’t let anyone, even Kaz, keep her from being herself. She’s also a pretty good grifter, able to use her skills with languages and her ability to read people to get what she wants. 

I didn’t actually like Zoya all that much until later on in the series (a mistake on my part because Zoya is awesome), but King of Scars made her one of my favorite characters. Yes, she’s prickly and prone to jealous sniping when her position is threatened, but she’s also unapologetic in who she is and genuinely wants what is best for her country and people and will do whatever it takes to get it. She learned a hard lesson at a young age that being nice won’t protect her and has fought to keep herself and those she loves/are loyal to safe.

my favorite male character:

I’m not positive he fits the label of “favorite” but I certainly found the Darkling the most compelling male character in the books, and he’s pretty far up there in the show as well. I probably enjoy watching him on screen the most as well, although I feel like in the show Jesper was my actual favorite male character. He was certainly my favorite in Six of Crows books, and the show version of him captures book!Jesper perfectly. 

I wanna say that Nikolai is my favorite somewhere, because I love him so much (he’s funny and sarcastic, which I’m always a sucker for in a character), but I feel like he doesn’t quite count for reasons I can’t put my finger one.

my favorite book/season/etc

Out of all of the Grishaverse, Six of Crows is hands down my favorite. It’s a heist! With young morally-gray criminals who don’t all have this nice heart of gold under it all, who break into-and out of -an unbreakable prison while spouting off witty dialogue! 

There’s only been a single season in the show so far, but I’m excited to see more!

my favorite episode (if its a tv show)

Probably the episode two. There’s something about the way things were revealed and the subtle unfolding of many of the characters that I like. 

my favorite cast member: 

The only one’s who’s name I know is Ben Barnes and I only learned that when he was announced as the Darkling and Tumblr had a meltdown. *shrug* I mostly was like, “that’s the guy from The Punisher. He’s good at playing the villain, so yay.” 

my favorite ship

I don’t want him redeemed in the slightest, nor do I particularly want a happy ending for them, but I love the dynamic between Alina and the Darkling. That push/pull they have, how very alike they are even as they are very opposite, and how she just can’t shake her draw to him and him to her, although he doesn’t try as hard as she does. They have this connection, are insanely compatible, and part of this tragic appeal of them is that in another life they could’ve had that happy ending together. It’s beautiful and tragic, to see how you’ve broken something before you even had it. And there’s something so appealing for me in that, in how their feelings are this tangled mess that can’t be undone and the way they really are the only people who can fully understand the other and the bond that forges between them. 

On a lighter note, Nina/Matthias was my favorite ship in Six of Crows for a long time, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention how much I love Kaz/Inej.

a character I’d die defending

Zoya maybe? Or Matthias? 

a character I just can’t sympathize with

The apparat. I kept waiting to see if his motives were something I could relate with in the books. They weren’t. He’s just a creepy old man who wants Alina to die and become a martyr so he can lead the church in her name. 

a character I grew to love

Probably Zoya. She seemed to be such a stereotypical mean girl in the first book, there only to make things hard on the main character, and I fell for it. She really is so much more than that.

my anti otp

I will accept the term anti-otp just this once because I don’t really have a notp for the show or books. The closest I have is Alina/Mal in the books. In the show I can actually see it and will probably aw over them when they get together, but in the books? He doesn’t seem to care of Alina at all, even as a friend for most of the first book, and gets downright petty and bitter when she’s revealed to be the Sun Summoner. But I can see their friendship in the show, on both sides, and that’s gone a long way for me. It’ll probably never be a ship I love, but I think I’ll probably grow to like it well enough.