Why Peter And Mj Are Important (far From Home Spoilers)

I missed Beau so much! Are you te writing the story or is it the original?

I am really trying to draw from the originals, but I am rewriting (writing again not fixing mistakes or storyline) the whole series. Please message me though about your favorite moments or favorite stories to rejog my memory.

tomholland2013: My muse! One day, I hope to be able to strike a pose and look off into the middle distance. Happy birthday mate. Love you #flawless

Baby Holland | Sneak Peek

“It’s not food poisoning,” Y/N whispered. She shook her head at her own comment. She had forced herself to swallow the heavy lump lingering at the back of her throat. She could feel the new salty tears streaming down her face.

“It’s not? What is it then?” Tom challenged. He had shifted to take one single step forward in his place, staring at her with a strong hint of curiosity in his brown eyes. He couldn’t imagine what could have been wrong.

“I’m...I’m pregnant.”

COMING SOON

I was on pinterest looking for gifs of Hunter (don't question me) and the comment on this one killed me

I audibly cackled

also if someone does it just tag me.. 👀

Just A Bartender | Kaz Brekker

Summary: There was nothing special about the head bartender at the Crow Club. For Kaz Brekker, he could list off thirty people who were more valuable assets or investments to him. But there is something about the bartender that ignites a desire to protect her at all costs.

Warning: alcoholic beverages, mentions of gambling, slightly demeaning behavior

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 4k

The Crow Club had such an enticing ambience filled to the brim with thoughtless pigeons. The Ketterdam tourists didn’t know any better than to visit one of the most well-known clubs in the Barrel. A place where they could put down a couple wages, drink until their hearts content, and get tricked into spending more money than they realize.

It was the perfect trap set by Kaz Brekker himself. The tables and dealers weren’t rigged, but a gambling hall is still a gambling hall. People lose their money at the tables and invest in a couple drinks. Before they know it, all their money is gone and it has all goes right into his pocket.

The Crow Club was never not busy, besides when it was closed in the early hours of the morning. It was Friday, which only meant that it was going to be a busy night and the start of the weekend. The tables were filled with some bystanders even standing on the sidelines awaiting their turn. 

The bouncers guarded the door to monitor the people coming in and out of the club. The waitresses whisked around tables, carrying tray after tray of various alcoholic drinks. All of which were provided and stocked by the head bartender. 

Near the back of the club, Y/N was standing behind the bar counter. She had a pint in her hands and was filling the pint to the brim with rich golden beer. She placed the pint onto a tray that was almost full of other drinks. She quickly pushed the tray into the hands of a waitress, sending the orders out. 

On busy nights like these, Y/N barely had a moment to think to herself. Instead, she opted to bury herself in the work in front of her because she knew how well it paid. She wiped her hands clear of beer on the apron tied around her waist before grabbing a nearby rag to clean the countertop. 

In that given moment, Wylan had returned to the bar with an empty tray in his hands. He slipped behind the bar and began helping by drying some cups with a rag himself. 

Over the past couple weeks, Y/N had been training Wylan in the art of bartending. She had seen firsthand how well he performed when mixing different chemicals to create his signature bombs. She wondered if he would take an interest in bartending since it was somewhat similar. And he most certainly did.

Wylan was a quick learner. Despite still not knowing how to read, Wylan was able to memorize which bottles of alcohol where which by the shape, size, color, and even smell. He always measured out the correct amount for each drink, since precision was insanely important when it comes to pyrotechnics. In no time, Wylan had become well knowledge in how to make certain drinks.

To have a second bartender was very helpful, especially on busy nights like these ones. For the past week, Wylan also doubled as another waiter since one of the girls had called out sick on short notice. He would take orders, return to the bar, create them himself, and then deliver them to the pigeons. 

With Wylan often at the bar, this meant that Jesper spent even less time at the tables. For the majority of the night, Jesper would find himself perched on one of the barstools at the bar; his head perched in the palm of his hand as he stared longingly at the young bartender. This distraction was one that Wylan, Y/N, and Kaz were most thankful for as they knew how bad his gambling problem really was.

“Might I have another refill?” Jesper wondered as he lowered his now empty glass onto the bar counter. He winced at the burning in the back of his throat.

“I think you’ve had enough tonight,” Y/N said warringly as she took his glass away. “Don't want to develop a drinking problem on top of a gambling problem.”

Jesper snorted in response, but nodded his head in agreement. She sent him a warm smile and cheeky wink. He went to push the barstool back, standing to his feet. He stretched his arms over his head.

“Well, then I might head to the tables.” Jesper began. She went to protest, but Wylan beat her to it.

“We’ve talked about this,” Wylan quickly came to stand beside him and took his arm as if to stop him.

“Don’t worry about me. I won’t spend more than an hour at the table,” Jesper claimed. He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, burying his nose in the ruff of hair. He quickly pulled away and slipped into the crowd to find an empty table.

Left at the bar, Wylan slumped down in the empty barstool left by Jesper. He breathed a long sigh of defeat. His gaze drifted down to the wet rag in his hands, finding a loose string and pulling on it without thought.

“I’ll send Inej to make sure he leaves the tables after an hour,” Y/N tried to cheer him up. He looked over his shoulder to send her a weak smile, mentally appreciating the effort. He redirected his line of attention to the crowd, spotting his lover situated at one of the tables. 

From across the room, Y/N’s eyes had landed on the dark and looming figure of her boss walking the floor. He was currently being trailed by one of his informants; a pesky man who honestly didn’t know when to stop talking. 

The bartender just knew by the look in his eyes that his patience was already warring thin. His jaw was locked in place and his pace quickened despite the use of his cane. He also had that clear look of annoyance in his eyes. 

In that moment, Y/N began to prepare his usual order, which was a glass of the finest whiskey in Ketterdam. She knew he was gonna need it after that conversation. Sure enough, Kaz spun around on the heels of his feet and said one thing to his informant. Without another word, the short and stout man scurried past him to leave the club. 

Now, Kaz headed straight to the far side of the bar. He stood with his eyes facing the shelf full of the alcoholic beverages. The head bartender placed his usual on the countertop before sending it sliding down the long length of the counter. Without looking, Kaz caught the small glass of whiskey with his leather black glove. He raised the glass to his lips, taking a long sip of the rich liquid and relishing in the burning sensation felt near the back of his throat.

When Y/N turned her head away, Kaz shifted his gaze to stare at her discreetly unbeknownst to her. He remembered the day he hired her, which was only a few days before the club opened. He hired her for one reason and one reason only: if she agreed to not to ask any questions. And she had kept her end of the bargain ever since.

He knew this would be a difficult task for anyone. There was always the mystery behind the black leather gloves he wore and the limp accompanied by the crow cane. The origins of where Kaz Brekker came from. Why he was so ruthless and heartless even as a twenty year old now. But she wasn’t allowed to ask questions.

When Kaz would come back to the Slat bloodied and bruised because he had gotten into a fistfight with a local gang, Y/N couldn’t even ask what happened or who did that to him. She simply sit silently while tending to his cuts with a damp rag.  She never pestered and she never pried.

She wasn’t anything special herself. She wasn’t part of the Six Crows. She didn’t participate in the heist. She didn’t wield any foreign knives, have the heartrending ability, or have a sharpshooter’s eye. She was just simply the bartender. 

She wasn’t part of the fight. She didn’t attend meetings. She brought very little to the table, besides the occasional alcoholic drinks as per requested. 

She played no role. She had no importance. She didn’t have a name for herself. She most certainly was expendable. If she disappeared, nobody would know her or even remember her. Her job could easily be filled by the next person who walked into the room or even Wylan if that was an option. 

She had little value and she knew this.

“Hey lady,” Y/N was pulled from her thoughts by a customer sitting at a table nearby. He raised his empty glass. “Be a sweetheart and get me a refill,” the man grinned wickedly.

Now Kaz’s gaze shifted from the customer to the bartender. He watched carefully. She grabbed a clean empty glass, choosing to fill up the pint without saying anything. She went to hand the glass to Wylan, but the customer stopped her by calling out again.

“Bring it to me yourself, lady.” He almost groaned. He sent a cheeky wink to the other men around the table. They chuckled deeply to themselves. 

With some hesitation, Y/N made her way around the side of the counter with the pint of beer in her hands. She went to approach the table, carefully placing the glass down for the customer. She began taking a single step back, but was stopped when the man gripped her wrist.

Out of instinct, Y/N let out a small gasp of surprise. She clenched her fist tightly and attempted to pull herself out of his tight grasp. She tried to contain herself, in attempts of hiding the clear fear and discomfort she felt. Because she knew that if she showed even an ounce of fear, that they will feed off of that and tear her to pieces. She held her ground.

“Kindly let go,” Y/N demanded firmly but quietly.

“What you gonna do about it, pretty girl?” The man said with a deep chuckle. The beer drenched his long orange beer, dripping onto his fine waistcoat. His breath stank of alcohol and tobacco.

All of the sudden, a loud click of a cane came in contact with the wooden floorboards. The table went silent. Everyone’s heads turned to the source of the sound; their gazes falling on the one who ran the club. 

In all his glory, Kaz Brekker stood facing the table of pigeons. His two gloved hands rested on top of the crow head cane. He said nothing to them, simply staring them down with a hard look in his eyes. 

A little click of a gun caused the men at the table to turn their heads once again. On the other side of the room, Jesper stood with one of his precious pearly guns in his hand. It was already cocked and ready for a fight. He narrowed his eyes at them as if challenging them. Wylan shallowed heavily in fear of the worst happening.

The sound of a knife being pulled out of its sheath could be heard much to everyone’s surprise. They turned their heads one final time to see a dark cloaked figure standing on the other side of the room. She drawn knives glistened in a yellow light of the club. Her face covered by a thin blue cloth. It was the Wraith.

“I’d chose your next step very carefully if I were you,” Kaz threatened darkly.

With little hesitation, the man released his tight grip on the bartender’s wrist. She took a couple steps back in retreat. She pulled her wrist to her chest, rubbing the tingling pain away with her other hand. She wondered if it would bruise tomorrow.

Kaz didn’t say anything. He tipped his head to Jesper as if to say ‘escort this man and his pals out of the place.’ He nodded knowingly before calling over the bouncers. They acted quickly by escorting the whole table out of the club despite their protests that their money was good and they didn’t do anything wrong. 

The owner of the club went to stand in front of his bartender. He kept his eyes on the door of the club as the men were forcefully pushed out of the club. She looked at him expectedly. She half expected him to ask if she was alright, but she should have known better because all he said was:

“My office after work.”

Her shoulders slouched at her sides in defeat. She stared at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes. The pain in her wrist was starting to become more prominent with each passing second. It was bound to bruise at this point. 

“Yes boss,” Y/N accepted. 

With her head hung low, Y/N returned to her rightful place behind the bar to finish out the rest of her shift. She dreaded the conversation that she was expected to have at the end of the night, left expectant in the dark about what their topic would pertain to.

Many hours later, the Crow Club was finally closed. The tables had been cleared. The dealers and bouncers had all gone back to their quarters at the Slat. Even Jesper, Wylan, and Inej had made their way back to the place they called home. All that was left was the bartender.

For starters, Y/N had to walk around the club in order to collect all of the glasses and pints. Many of them were left empty, but some of them still had liquid leftover. She returned to the bar to wash the dishes and dry them with her spare rag. She placed the rest of them upside down on the counter to dry overnight.

Next, Y/N made her way to each table to clean the table tops. She then proceeded to stack the chairs on top of table. This took quite some time as they were a lot of tables in the club. But once the tables and chairs were taken care of, Y/N was able to get out a broom and dustpan.

The pigeons often brought in heaps of dust and dirt from the road, which made the naturally brown floorboards this disgusting black color. It took close to an hour of sweeping the place before she was able to move onto the mopping portion of her tasks. 

By this point, it was close to the early hours of the morning. While the sun wasn’t peeking over the horizon, it was bound to in an hours time. Rather sluggishly, Y/N returned to her place behind the bar. She opened a hidden cupboard to retrieve a single pristine teacup. She filled the teacup with a rich black coffee before placing the cup on a silver tray.

Carefully, so not to spill the cup of coffee, Y/N made her way upstairs to the upper level of the club. She cautiously went to approach the door to her boss’s office. She raised her hand to knock twice.

Even though she heard nothing in response, Y/N was able to open the door and make her way inside. She saw her boss sitting behind his desk, working through some of the books. She strode over to his desk to lower the silver tray on top of it. 

As per request, Kaz liked to have a cup of coffee while working on the books every night before leaving the club. He never took any creamer or sugar with his coffee, opting to drink it straight black. Almost fitting to his persona.

Black gloves. Black coffee. Black soul.

Without taking his eyes away from his work, Kaz’s devilishly long fingers curled round the handle of the teacup. He brought the cup to the seam of his lips, tipping the cup slightly upwards to get a taste of its bitter and strong flavor. 

In the three years of working for Kaz Brekker, Y/N always brought him a cup of coffee at the end of the night. She’d watch him drink his coffee, waiting for her next orders. Sometimes Kaz would ask her to restock the new shipment of vodka that had come in from the harbor. Other times, Kaz would ask her to look over the books for him to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

The longest wait had been over an hour long of her just standing in front of his desk, waiting for a verbal dismissal from him. It was always how she ended her night at the club. Sometimes her dismissal came in the form of a short nod. On rare occasions, Kaz would say something like ‘you may go.’ 

Tonight would be different. A fight had almost broke out in the club. A gun could have been fired by Jesper had his patience run out a minute earlier. Blood could have been shed over a mere bartender.

A few moments passed in utter silence. The only sound was coming from Kaz flipping through some papers and when he lowered his drink back down onto the silver tray.

“I’d like to apologize for tonight--,” Y/N began but was quickly interrupted.

“What for?” Kaz said without drawing his gaze away from his work. She paused for a moment.

“There was almost a fight,” Y/N replied blankly.

“Happens from time to time,” Kaz claimed. He wasn’t wrong. “I just prefer to keep my floors clean of blood.”

She knew this better than anyone. He’d always get so frustrated if someone shot a gun off in his club or if someone ended up dead on his floor. Unbeknownst to her, it was solely because she was the one who always had to clean up the mess. He hated seeing her on her hands and knees, scrubbing the blood out of the floorboards. 

He knew that she’d wake up the next day with sore knees and splinters in her hand. An ache in her back that wouldn’t go away for another week. Her hands stained pink from the blood she washed away with a scrubber and bucket. Her eyes tired from having to stay later.

Kaz Brekker knew well of pain. He was old buddies with him. The effects of firepox had caused an unbearable pain when he was much younger. However, the worst pain that Kaz ever endured was when he was fourteen years old. In which, he jumped off the roof of a bank and broke his right leg. That pain failed to leave his side and still resides with him to his day, hint the cane. 

Kaz Brekker knew well of the pain of others. Often times, Kaz found a somewhat sense of joy upon seeing the look of pain in others faces, particularly other members of rivalry gangs. To see a man writhing in pain due to being shot in the leg or being witness to a solid left hook to a jaw. It was often satisfying to say the least.

However, Kaz Brekker concealed behind all his hard armor, could not stand to see one particular person in pain. It shouldn’t have been an issue, but it had been for the past three years. His bartender of all people was the one person on his mind.

He always knew that he liked to take care of his investments, particularly his crows in which he had invested a lot of his money and time into. His bartender was not much of an investment. He had paid off Inej’s indenture years ago and she worked for him as a spy in disguise. He gave Jesper a line of credit in which he quickly became his right hand man. Even Wylan, whom Kaz had taken under his wing, was part of the crew and was a much more valuable asset than any bartender could be. After all, she was just a bartender.

She brought nothing to the table. No intel. No skill. No muscle. Just the ability to make one hell of a cocktail and the strong sense to not ask any questions.

The investment in her was not one for the books. It wasn’t one of the best choices he’d ever made. She made drinks and kept the place tidy. That was it. She was dispensable.

And yet, for some reason, Kaz protected her. He always protects his investments, but especially the ones he truly cares about. He protects his crows as they are the closest thing he has to a family now. He protects the other members of the Dregs as they are what holds his empire together. And he protects his bartender because...

Kaz lifted his head to finally meet her soft gaze. She offered him a small smile that went away as quickly as it appeared. He found himself standing to his feet with the help of his cane, shifting around the side of his desk. He stood in front of her.

He very slowly lowered himself to perch on the edge of his desk, studying her figure with a blank look on his face. She faltered under his strict gaze, dropped her line of sight to stare at the ground instead. She closed her eyes to calm herself.

Suddenly, Y/N felt the soft pads of two leather fingers touch the underside of her chin. Her head was lifted by those fingers until her gaze met those of her boss’s. She held her breathe as she stared directly into the eyes of the bastard of the barrel. 

He took the time to admire all of her features. Her skin was illuminated by the soft golden glow of the fireplace beside them. Her hair smelt of alcohol from the drinks she had been pouring all night. Her lips so perfect because they had never been tempted once to ask a single question.

“Your wrist...” Kaz said softly. 

His other hand made contact with the wrist that had been clutched tightly that night. He brought her hand up to view himself. He went to push away the sleeve of her blouse, settling his gaze on the small purple bruise that had begun to form around her wrist.

“It’ll heal,” Y/N claimed with a shrug of the shoulders. He cast a glance to her.

“They won’t come near you again. That I can promise,” Kaz gave a nod.

“B-But they bring in money. They meant no harm--,” Y/N tried to reason with him.

“They meant harm,” Kaz said curtly. He lifted his head to stare at her hard, unwavering in his opinion on the matter. He examined her wrist once more. “Those kind always do.”

“It’s only a bruise. Not a break or even a sprain,” Y/N replied. She tried to recapture his attention by lowering her head to insert herself into his line of vision. “I am fine. You don’t have to worry about me,” she claimed.

In that moment, Kaz Brekker could feel the walls around his mind and heart begin to fall away at her words. His mind wasn’t plagued with the fear that someone might overhear their conversation. He always believed attachment meant weakness, but just for a moment, he forgot all about his beliefs.

“I do worry,” Kaz said in a soft whisper. He stared into the depths of her eyes, now taking notice of their proximity to one another. That he was able to feel the soft fanning of her breath against his face. “All the time,” Kaz added.

“W-Why’s that?” Y/N replied, almost baffled by his answer.

“Because...” Kaz couldn’t find the words. He was reminded that if he spoke his mind or showed any sense of vulnerability, that he would be deemed weak in his own eyes. So he changed his answer. “You’re an investment. And I like to protect my investments,” Kaz lied under his tongue.

“I can take care of myself,” Y/N chuckled at his response. She wanted to take a step back and turn away from him entirely, but she was too drawn to him.

“The thing is...you don’t have to,” Kaz responded. He dropped his voice to a low whisper so that they couldn’t be heard by anyone other than themselves. His lips curved into a michevious grin. He was up to something. “I can take care of you for the rest of our lives.”

“How?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, knowing this was far beyond a (what she thought was) simple confessor of feelings.

“Found myself another job,” Kaz replied. He smirked at her wickedly. “One that will make us rich beyond our wildest dreams.”

Author’s Note:

IT’S BEEN A WHILE, HASN’T IT? I AM HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE MY RETURN.

The Sergeant's Senator | Chapter 5

Summary: It is finally time for the senator to give her speech to the senator. And Echo tells Hunter about what he had seen. Now Hunter needs to confront the senator and figure out why they haven't been transferred yet.

Warning: assassination attempt, various weapons used, sniper/shooter mentioned, characters getting shot at, mutual pining, mild argument, kissing (finally), +18 very suggestive content at the end

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 6.0k

Series Masterlist

Now, two days later, the hired hitman had received his orders from his employer. The blaster wound in his shoulder was healed, but there was a nasty scar that remained in its place. He packed his weapon away in a case, taking it with him as he left the abandoned building he'd been stationed in.

Checking the coordinates, he began to make his way there without drawing too much attention. He took back alleys, hidden passages, and stayed out of the eyes of others. The Count's words rang in his mind from earlier: "The speech takes place in the Senate Building at 2:00pm. Do not let her get there."

Just like the Count had ordered, the skilled shooter made sure to keep a low profile and learn more about them. He remained hidden in the crowds, watching their every move without them knowing. After a week, he figured out the exact route they'd take to get from her apartment to the senate building. And relaying this information to his employer meant that they worked together to find the perfect place to take the shot.

Arriving at the building, the assassin began climbing the long staircase until he reached one of the top floors. He walked towards one of the windows, peeking through the glass to watch the busy airspeeders driving below and diagonally from him. Satisfied with his position, he chose to assemble his rifle and wait for the moment to strike.

Back at the apartment, Hunter stood impatiently outside the senator's bedroom door. His arms were crossed over his chest and his foot tapped the floor in a steady beat. He glanced back at his brothers who had never looked more bored in their lives.

"Tech," Hunter's sultry and low voice sounded. "Give me the time."

He didn't look up from his data pad. "It is approximately 1:46pm. And it has only been two minutes since the last time you asked me."

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned. He proceeded to throw his hands up in exaggeration. "What's taking her so long?"

"She trying to look nice for her sergeant," Crosshair sneered. He threw a glare to his older brother, already knowing that his comment would strike a cord with him.

Hunter, always being the more level headed of the two, ignored his comment. He redirected his attention to the solid wood door in front of him. But he clenched his fists at his sides.

"She's gonna miss her time slot if she waits any longer," Echo noted while peering over Tech's shoulder to look at the time.

Finally, Hunter raised his fist to the door and knocked harshly against it. He called her name through the door in hopes of urging her to finish getting ready quicker. This was probably the thirtieth time he'd knocked.

"I'm not ready yet!" Her voice was muffled through the door, which meant she was probably on the other side of the room. She fixed her hair in the mirror and smoothed her hands over her dress.

"Well, you need to be ready now. We should have left ten minutes ago," Hunter called back. He stared down at the door handle.

"Fifteen," Tech corrected with a raised finger. "If you calculate the traffic."

"These things take time," Y/n answered. She moved a few strands of hair to her liking. She looked herself over one last time. "I don't like to be rushed."

"If you need help to...speed up the process, I am offering my assistance," Hunter was trying everything to get her out of the room. He only received a long pause of silence. He went to knock again, but the door swung open before contact.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She teased him.

The others were at a complete loss of words for what stood before them. They shamelessly took in her appearance by allowing their eyes to travel down her body. She really was something else.

The senator was wearing a floor-length dark blue dress that matched the color of the midnight sky. Her hair was styled into curls, flowing over her shoulders. There were small silver stars and crescent moons pinning her baby hairs back.

The sergeant was the first to realize how long he'd been staring. He tried to form words, but they fell short in the process. Standing right in front of him was by far the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. No, he thought to himself. She was beyond beautiful; she was simply magnificent.

"You...look...," Hunter began. The lavender perfume flooded his senses, which made his brain fuzzy. His gaze continued to linger, drinking it all in greedily. "Heavenly," Hunter breathed softly.

That word was not what she was expecting in the slightest. It didn't make her any less flattered though. The corners of her lips lifting into a soft smile with a pink tint coloring her cheeks. She tried to avert her gaze because she just couldn't bare looking at him any longer without blushing profusely.

"Thank you," Y/n replied sheepishly.

When he first saw her, Hunter felt all of his thoughts fly out of his head. He didn't know why they were so persistent to leave; finding it all irrelevant now. He chose to live in the moment which consisted of her and her alone.

Slowly, Hunter used his hand to gesture to the door behind them as if inviting her to go ahead of him. As she brushed past him, Hunter shifted his hand to hover by her lower back. They began to walk towards the door; the others moved to lead them out. With his brothers walking ahead of them, Hunter found himself placing his hand on the small of her back in a gentle manner.

The Bad Batch clambered into the small airspeeder on the edge of the landing platform. There was a driver at the wheel who had been waiting for their arrival. He was instructed to bring them to the Senate Building. And there was a small emphasis on their need to get their quickly.

Starting the airspeeder, the driver began to navigate through the busy lanes in the city. A few other airspeeders passed by them, flying through the air at such a rapid pace. Their airspeeder turned down another path, steadily making their way to their final destination.

In the nearby building, the hitman had kept his scope locked on the passing speeders. He knew that they'd be coming at any second; he only had one shot at this. With one eye closed, he peered through the narrow scope and moved his sniper steadily to search the speeders moving by.

Finally, the skilled shooter's eyes landed on a familiar-looking grey airspeeder heading in the opposite direction of him. He recognized the dark grey clone armor in a second. He quickly adjusted his weapon to take the shot.

"He's gonna try something tomorrow," Hunter told his brothers the day before. They had gathered in the senator's office to discuss tactics for the day of the speech. "He's been waiting for the right moment."

"But how are we going to stop him? He could be anywhere," Echo claimed. He tried thinking of all the places it could go down.

"He wouldn't do anything in the Senate," Tech explained. He ruled that much out. "Too many witnesses and too much security already.

"He could take his shot as we leave the building," Crosshair observed. If he was in the shooter's shoes, that's where he would strike.

"Or he could take his shot as we were moving," Hunter suggested this option. His arms were crossed, but he still shrugged his shoulders.

"That's a pretty tricky shot," Wrecker noted. "Moving objects ain't easy."

"Might not be easy, but it's not impossible." Crosshair corrected. They seemed to think about their options for a brief moment, attempting to reach some kind of game plan.

"So what are we going to do?" Echo questioned. He looked towards his sergeant for the answer.

"I think I have an idea."

While riding in the airspeeder, the other squad members attempted to glance at the sergeant through the corner of their eyes. The mission was put into his hands. They relieved heavily on his senses, because with a few tweaks, Tech had managed to adjust Hunter's helmet filter.

It was originally designed to numb his senses so he wouldn't be so overwhelmed. However, it was now changed to only pick up the smallest sounds. He wasn't able to hear the others talking or even the other airspeeders zooming past them. He focused heavily in order to hear the sound of subtle movement.

Then Hunter heard it: The sound of a rifle being cocked.

"Now!" Hunter signaled them.

The shooter's finger rested against the curve of the trigger, lining up his shot so he wouldn't miss. He squeezed the trigger to fire his shot, watching the red blast come shooting out of the rifle.

Just in time, Hunter had managed to push the senator into a crouching position on the floor of the speeder. He moved his head slightly to the right, barely missing the blaster shot that was aimed at her. Yanking his blaster out of his holster, he didn't hesitate to raise it and fire a few shots in the general direction.

The Bad Batch had been fully prepared for the attack. They quickly turned around in their place as well and fired their own shots rapidly. The shooter ducked down behind the window ledge just as a few shots whizzed past the window. He covered his head and cursed under his breath.

Meanwhile, Crosshair was using his long rifle to fire another round. His shots had gotten the closest. While Wrecker was most certainly firing the fastest, Tech was trying to take more calculated shots. Then Hunter and Echo were firing almost simultaneously, naturally in sync with one another. But none of their shots hit a target.

Having seen the shooter disappear from the perch, Hunter raised his fist to signal the others to seize fire. The shooting stopped instantly. He waited patiently with the expectation that the shooter would try again, but he never reappeared in the window. The airspeeder continued on the designated route, heading in the direction of the senate.

"Are you alright, senator?" Echo asked. He couched down beside her, offering his hand for her to take. He eased her back into the seat.

"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him. She glanced up at the sergeant before giving him a firm nod of the head. "Thanks again."

Though Hunter's filtration was still activated, he knew exactly what she said regardless of the fact he couldn't hear her. He sent her a nod back. He redirected his attention back towards the empty window, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at it.

"Was your mission successful?" Count Dooku questioned over the communication link that the assassin held in his hands. There was a long beat of stillness.

"She...she was highly protected. I-I couldn't get a clean shot," the man explained. His continuous failed attempts only caused the Sith Lord more frustration. And this was evident in his silence alone. "Give me one more chance," he begged.

"I grow tired of your excuses," Count Dooku interrupted. His voice grew deeper and darker. "I am coming to Coruscant. Do not let her make it to the vote. If you fail to finish the job, then I will end you."

"I understand, Count."

The small escort tried to navigate through the senate building as fast as they could with what little time remained until their window. They had rounded the corner of another corridor, spotting the entrance to the repulsorpod in the senate room. The senator's assistant was standing by the door.

"You're late," the droid announced.

The senator approached the entrance, ignoring the comment with a roll of the eyes. She stepped into the repulsorpod and activated it so it began hovering over to it's designated place amongst other senate members.

The Bad Batch watched the repulsorpod from a distance. The announcement of the senator's arrival sounded from the chancellor who was situated in the middle of the room. With that, Senator Rayna gathered herself and started her speech that she worked so hard on.

Despite being a little out-of-touch with politics, Hunter wanted nothing more than to listen to the senator's speech. He saw that politics was her drive; the thing that got her excited when brought into a conversation. Her speaking came with such passion which indicated how deeply her heart felt for it.

His eyes shimmered behind the visor of his helmet, scanning the way her hands moved as she spoke with emphasis. He admired the softness of her voice, feeling himself falling into a transfixed trance. He didn't necessarily understand what she was saying, but he truly didn't care.

"Uh Hunter?" Echo cleared his throat to get the sergeant's attention.

"What is it, Echo?" Hunter let out a loud sigh since he was taken out of his trance.

"I need to talk to you about something," Echo claimed. Naturally, Hunter turned to face him only to present him with a skeptical look. "It's about the senator," Echo reassured him.

Quickly glancing back at the senator, Hunter contemplated walking away to address his trooper's concern or option the stay in order to listen to the rest of her speech. Although, granted, whatever he did have to say about the senator could be a threat. So Hunter hesitantly walked away from the entrance with Echo trailing behind him.

"What's wrong?" Hunter asked. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I wanted to make you aware of something. Something that I saw the other night when I was on patrol," Echo began. He thought about his next words carefully. "Something I shouldn't have seen," Echo said truthfully.

The sergeant's hands dropped back down to his sides upon sensing the uncertainty radiating from his brother. He saw the conflict behind his eyes and how he couldn't even look him in the eyes. He could only imagine what he was about to say, but he thought of every possible situation.

"Go on," Hunter encouraged.

"Some paperwork was delivered late at night," Echo started the story.

It was in that moment that Hunter realized the situation might not be as severely troubling as he had initially thought. His shoulders slumped down and he released the breath he didn't know he had been holding back.

"I just got a brief glance at the paper on the top of the stack, but it was from the guard."

"What did it say?" Hunter inquired.

"It was a request form--an application," Echo corrected. "It seems The Coruscant Guard sent the form to let her know that there are now available troopers. Should she apply and request them."

"Which means..." Hunter now made the connection.

"We might be receiving new orders any day now," Echo finished for him.

"Our transfer out of Coruscant," Hunter sighed reluctantly. The sadness that came through his voice did not go unnoticed. His gaze lowered to the ground.

For some reason, Hunter's mind drifted away to the words of warning that his youngest brother gave him many weeks ago. Don't get too attached. He clenched his fists at his sides, knowing in the back of his mind that he should have heeded that warning. But at the time, Hunter didn't want to listen to him.

"What should we do?" Echo wondered, which pulled Hunter out of his own thoughts.

"Nothing we can do," Hunter shrugged though it pained him to admit. "Except wait for our transfer papers to come in."

"Should we tell her?"

"Let's keep it between us for now," Hunter ordered calmly. Echo nodded his head understandingly. He glanced back at the senator who was still deep in her speech. "She'll tell us in her own time."

The only problem was that the senator never brought it up. This made Hunter and Echo extremely confused since they figured she would have probably broken the news to them all at some point. She least she could do was give them a heads up that they'd be transferred out sooner than later. Even if Hunter and Echo already knew about the application form that she was given.

It wasn't until six days following her big speech when Hunter decided to come out and confront her. The whole crew had just made their way into the senate building and where heading upstairs.

The day of the vote was scheduled to happen tomorrow. The Senator of Courscant was already feeling quite anxious given the amount of time and effort she put into her speech. Besides making her speech, Senator Rayna had also met with many other senators in hopes of convincing them to support her cause. She only had to wait one more day.

Just as the senator was about to head into the senate room, Hunter managed to get her attention by grabbing her forearm. He stopped her from going in. She whipped her head around to face him with a slight hint of shock in her expression.

"We need to talk," Hunter spoke through the ventilator of his helmet. He kept his voice low so the others couldn't hear him.

"Can't this wait?" Y/n wondered.

"When were you planning to tell us about the transfer?" Hunter ignored her comment, having grown impatient with her inability to bring the subject up to them.

The senator furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What transfer?"

"Y-You..." Hunter's voice seemed to fade. He studied her features only to find confusion written all over them. His grip on her arm faltered slightly. "You mean you didn't fill out the form?"

The senator felt her heart drop in her chest. She now put the pieces together, coming to the conclusion that he must have found out about the form that was given to her from the capital's guard. The pang of guilt forming deeper and more painful.

"Listen Hunter," the senator tried to come up with some kind of excuse. She avoided his gaze. "Can we talk about this later?"

Now, the senator knew that the needed to be in the right mindset to explain herself to him. Not only that, but she'd also need the time to talk with him, which was something she wasn't able to spare him. Finally, Y/n was able to lift her gaze to meet his.

"Please," Y/n whispered softly with pleading eyes.

And Hunter couldn't say no. His fingers relaxed against her forearm, slipping down the length of her arm. This action only brought a shiver to run down her spine. Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. His hand took hold of her gently, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to communicate understanding.

With great hesitation, Senator Rayna began walking towards the entrance of the senate room. The other senators were waiting for her and preparing for the start of the session. She glanced over her shoulder to steal a glance at her sergeant one last time.

Upon returning to the senator's place of living, Hunter opened the door for her to enter. She walked into the room without sparing him a glance. Just as the other members went to walk in, Hunter stopped them by raising his hand. Each of them looked at their sergeant with a hint of confusions behind their features.

"I need to speak with the senator privately," Hunter told them. He quickly glanced at Echo who was the only one that knew about the conversation that was about to take place. "Give us a couple minutes," Hunter asked.

"Fine," Wrecker threw his hands up in defeat. "Just don't take too long."

"I'll...try to keep it short," Hunter promised.

With some hesitation, the Bad Batch began to make their way further down the hallway. They figured that they'd be able to find something to occupy themselves for a couple minutes. They sent a glance towards the sergeant as they passed by before he closed the door in front of them.

Finally, Hunter stood still for the first time that day. His hand lingered on the handle of the door, wondering if it would be best just to leave with the rest of them. He could feel her gaze bearing into the back of his head. He gathered the needed courage to turn and address her.

"Care to explain yourself?" Hunter started. He folded his arms across his chest to keep a strict demeanor.

"Before that," Y/n interjected. "I want to know how you found out. Did you go through my things?"

"What? No," Hunter denied. "Echo told me."

Closing her eyes, Senator Rayna only cursed under her breath. She hadn't thought about that beforehand. The form was the first piece of paper on the stack. Echo didn't do anything wrong. He was simply the deliverer. She refused to be mad at him for looking at something innocently.

"Right," Y/n said understandingly. "That adds up."

"Let me get some things straight: The Coruscant Guard sends you an application form to your apartment last week," Hunter listed off.

"That's right," Y/n spoke truthfully.

"This application form is the first step in granting you a new escort," Hunter added.

"Mhmm," Y/n gave a nod.

"Which ultimately means that my squad would be transferred out of your command," Hunter came to this conclusion clearly.

"...yes," Y/n breathed quietly.

There was a beat of silence between them. Despite the fact that the senator had cleared things up for the sergeant, he was still left in a state of utter confusion. He looked at her with a blank stare on his face.

"So why the hell haven't you taken the time to even fill it out?" Hunter fought back with a hint of venom in his tone. This sudden outburst only caused the senator to furrow her eyebrows at him.

"You don't think I've been a bit preoccupied with other things?" Y/n threw back at him.

"Oh please. Don't lie to me," Hunter scoffed at this excuse. His arms fell back down to his sides. "You've had all week to fill it out."

"Fine," Y/n waved her hands in dismissal. "You're right. That's not the reason why I didn't fill it out."

"What's the reason then?" Hunter demanded.

The senator tried to gather her thoughts and feelings. She avoided his gaze, but still felt the pressure to answer his question. Struggling to find an excuse, Y/n wasn't able to find the right words.

"I...I-I didn't want to," Y/n confessed quietly. Her eyes drifted up to meet his gaze, filled to the brim with tears that threatened to escape. "Not if it meant you'd be transferred."

"I don't understand," Hunter took a step forward. "What do you want?"

This decision didn't benefit anyone. It kept a batch of good soldiers away from the front lines, which was the best place for them to be. It also kept the senator from receiving the needed help from guards who were purposefully stationed on her planet and who were assigned to protect her.

And Hunter saw this. He still didn't understand her reasoning behind her actions, why she hadn't filled out the form to request a new escort and begin the process of getting them transferred back to the war front.

"What do you want?" Hunter repeated a little more louder this time. He took another step towards her.

"I-I want you," Y/n's voice quivered. She felt a tear roll down the side of her cheek as she spoke with the utmost sense of honesty.

In that exact moment, Hunter's strong nature seemed to dissolve upon hearing those words. His shoulders deflated slightly at his sides and his face fell into a blank stare. It felt like his brain had malfunctioned because he wasn't able to form a complete thought with that information.

"I want you," Y/n spoke once again. "Just you."

Her name came tumbling off his lips. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the floor, feeling the strong sense of conflict in the depths of his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to fight the urge to cave in.

Seeing her current state only broke his heart even further. The tears were now cascading down the sides of her face evenly. Her bottom lip was quivering unsteadily. The tip of her nose had grown red from her crying. Her hands shook since her nerves had taken over.

"You...you can't have me," Hunter told her steadily. "You know that."

"I-I know," Y/n nodded her head understandingly. She tore her gaze away from him. "You were the person who told me that it's good to have dreams."

He was her dream just as much as she was his own dream.

"I'm a soldier, Y/n. Meant to serve in the army," Hunter corrected her. He couldn't be her dream. "I wasn't made for...whatever you want this to be between us."

"I don't want much," Y/n tried to reassure him with a small shake of her head. She took the last step forward until they were standing with their chests pressed together. "I know that a relationship is almost impossible for a sergeant and a senator."

"Then...what do you want?" Hunter breathed out for the last time. His eyes mindlessly drifted down to her lips, lingering there for a brief moment. "If we can't have a relationship, what can I offer you?"

Slowly, the senator raised her hand to rest against the plate of his armor. Her hand began drifting upwards until it reached his shoulder. She moved it to the side of his cheek, cupping it softly in her grasp.

"Just you. For this one moment," Y/n pleaded with him.

It all seemed to make sense now. The reason why she didn't fill out the form immediately was because she wanted them to stay a little longer. Though it was selfish of her (and she admitted that) and it would keep them from the war, the senator confessed that she never felt more safe than when she was in the presence of his squad.

Their lips seemed to chase one another's movements. Even though their lips never fully connected, they grazed against one another a few times. The temptation to fall into each other was growing with each second.

The sergeant's hands found a place to perch on the sides of her hips. He held her steadily in her grasp, swaying every so slightly with her. Her hands slid away from his face, falling flat on his chest plate. She gazed up at him with anticipating eyes. He leaned his head forward until their foreheads rested against one another's.

They both felt the internal conflict. They already failed miserably in regards to not falling in love with one another. The risk of exposure would also be detrimental to both of their occupations. Should they chose to act on their emotions, who could tell what would happen?

Finally, Hunter's hand drifted up to cup the place between her neck and jaw. He held her face steadily in his grasp. Once again, Hunter felt his heart screaming 'yes' and his mind was pleading 'no.'

Eventually, Hunter caved into his own selfish desires. He tipped his head to the side and leaned forward in his place, permitting his lips to press against her own. He felt the way she leaned into his touch and he heard how fast her heart was beating.

Their lips moved against one another's in a gentle melody. His arms wrapped around her backside, bringing her as close to his body as humanly possible. His hand snaked up her back to cradle the back of her head. He had never imagined how soft her lips were.

With a shuddering breath, Y/n's lips parted slightly which allowed him to swipe his tongue against her bottom lip. Their mouths chased one another's so desperately, exploring every possible inch like it would be their last time.

Finally, Hunter and Y/n were able to pull away from one another to regain their lost breath. They gazed at one another with half-lidded eyes. The two of them basked in the comfortable silence, feeling the sudden sense of relief for finally getting past that hurdle of hiding emotions.

Before they knew what was happening, they had been able to find one another's lips once again. They kept sealed in a tight kiss since they wanted to savor this time together as much as possible.

His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors down her spine, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling. He swallowed her soft moans, thinking they tasted so sweet on his tongue.

It was the kind of kiss that stole one's breath away and caused your heart to skip a couple beats. This was one of those kisses that were so filled with built up emotion that they didn't seem to care about anything else. And it was a kiss that could easily become desperate and escalate quickly if they weren't careful.

And that's exactly what happened. It became desperate.

CHAPTER SIX HERE

Taglist:

@justhavingsomefun1 @totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl @mrcaptainrex @whore-of-many-hot-men @graciexmarvel @qweenrogerina @arcsimper5 @queenofspades6 @cadihyo @jediknightjana @elthoughtzos @lokigirlszendaya @sleepycreativewriter @moonwrecked @ravenclawbitch426 @waytoooldforthis78 @left-in-the-motel-bar @fic-force-99 @ayyyy-le-simp

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS GONNA BE JUST PURE SPICE AND SMUT! THERE WILL BE A WARNING AT THE BEGINNING

please reblog to give others more chances to take part in the survey! <3

I am getting a lot of messages and requests to make a taglist. So if you’d like to be tagged (specifically for when Play Pretend Part 2 drops), please comment on this post so I can keep them all in order or send me a private message. 

The Emperor of Magic | Part 1

Summary: After years of planning, Kaz finally proposes the heist above all heists to his crew of crows. The crows can't help but see how oddly familiar this heist looks compared to the one they've pulled in the past.

Warning: +18 Warning

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Type: Series

Word Count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist

Each of the crows had been summoned to the boss’s office on the top floor of the club. The door was locked shut and the shades were drawn over the windows. Once the room fell under certain secrecy, Kaz Brekker pulled out the layout of the ultimate heist.

The five crows leaned forward to peer down at the plans. They took a moment to study them carefully, but there was something familiar about this heist. It was almost like...

“Hang on,” Jesper was the first one to notice. “This looks like the Ice Court Heist.”

Kaz chose to say nothing.

“These are the same maps that Wylan drew up,” Matthias said in his thick foreign accent. He placed a single finger on one of the maps.

“And we were breaking out a prisoner who was worth a fortune,” Nina added.

“Kaz,” Inej began. “This is the same heist.”

“Nearly,” Kaz nodded. “But things are different this time.”

“You mean, we won’t be leaving in a tank?” Jesper recalled since the tank was not part of the original plan. 

“I liked the tank,” Wylan commented.

“I mean,” Kaz ignored the initial comment. “It’s different in a few ways. There is a higher risk--”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Nina scoffed. Kaz sent her a glare.

“The person we are breaking out of the court isn’t just an ordinary scientist this time,” Kaz placed his hands on the table to lean forward in his place. “They aren't Grisha, but they are more powerful than them.”

“More powerful than Grisha?” Wylan wondered. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Is that even possible?” Wylan almost scoffed.

“Like someone more powerful than the Shadow Summoner or the Sun Summoner?” Inej asked cautiously.

There was a long beat of silence. Each crow had turned their heads to look expectantly to the boss. He stared her down.

“Yes,” Kaz said slowly. “More powerful than the both of them combined.”

“But that means...” Inej’s voice trailed off. She was one of the few who knew exactly who he was talking about. “The Emperor is real?” Inej asked horrified. 

The atmosphere of the entire room had changed in a split second. The sound of the stage coach approached could be heard from the street below. The boss went to approach the window. He pulled the shade to the side discreetly to make sure nothing was amiss. The small chandelier in the room swayed from an unknown draft which was only noticed by Matthias and Inej. An eeriness fell over the room. 

“W-what Emperor?” Wylan asked. He glanced between Matthias and Inej as if looking for some kind of explanation because they both seemed disturbed by this. 

“The Emperor of Magic,” Matthias seethed. “Is a wicked demon from the depths of hell.

“They are the only known person who is known to manipulate magic,” Inej said uneasily as if she feared the demon itself was listening in on their conversation.

“Not Grisha,” Kaz reminded them. 

“How are they not Grisha?” Nina wondered. “We basically perform magic.”

“Grisha can only manipulate that which exists already. The Emperor has the ability to create anything out of thin air, manipulate anything or anyone, and destroy anything in their path at will.” Kaz explained.

“So remind me why we are breaking them out?” Jesper asked almost sarcastically because it didn’t seem like a very appealing heist to him.

“Because she is worth nearly 100 million kruge,” Kaz stated. The crows quickly directed their line of attention back to him, because they almost wondered if they had heard him right. But it couldn’t be real since...

“Who in the world has 100 million kruge to spend?” Jesper shrugged his shoulders at the thought.

Kaz smirked to himself. “The King of Ravka, the Queen of Shu Han, and the King of Fjerda.”

Knowing that Matthias was from Fjerda and still quite loyal to his country, Kaz glanced at him through the corner of his eye to watch his reaction. He inhaled sharply upon hearing the name of his king, but he tried not to allow his emotions to get the better of him. Kaz directed his attention elsewhere for now.

“What do you mean?” Inej asked, searching for some kind of explanation. 

The boss proceeded to reach into his coat pocket and pull out a single piece of folded paper. He dropped that piece of paper onto the table to allow the crows to study it as carefully as he did these last few years. Jesper took initiative, taking the piece of paper and unfolding it carefully. He read the document silently, feeling Wylan’s eyes darting between him and the paper.

“Let me get this straight,” Jesper folded the paper to set it down again. “The kings and queen of these fine nations spontaneously decided to get together to sign a treaty regarding what to do with this so-called myth.”

“That's right,” Kaz nodded. 

“I suppose nobody else knows about this then?” Jesper pressed.

“For the past three and a half years, I was the only one who knew about the meeting.” Kaz confessed.

“Where did you find this?” Jesper asked, holding up the paper in his hand.

“In a random vault in the Ravkan palace,” Kaz shrugged his shoulders. Jesper let out a scoff of disbelief, throwing his hands up in the air. “Left a copy so they wouldn’t get suspicious.” Kaz added.

“Of course. Where else would you get it?” Jesper asked sarcastically.

“I still don’t understand,” Inej interjected. “If the kings and queen created this treaty and have her in currently in their captivity, then how are we going to break her out? We can’t just demand that they pay us for her back,” Inej claimed.

“We are going to break her out,” Kaz explained. “We are going to make it look like she escaped.”

“H-How do we do that?” Wylan was the first to speak up, but his voice failed him.

“Once they are informed that she is missing, they’ll put a price on her head for her recapture. We’ll make our way down to Ravka to bring her before the king and demand our price,” Kaz stated simply.

“Say the King of Ravka doesn’t want to pay the 100 million kruge? Refuses to bargain with you. What then?” Nina asked having grown up in Ravka herself.

“Then I threaten to unleash her,” Kaz claimed. The crows inhaled sharply at his comment, feeling insanely unnerved by his seemingly carelessness. “I don’t think she’d be too happy to come face to face with her captor,” Kaz said.

The room fell silent once again. The five crows searched for any flaw in the plan, coming to realize that this plan had probably been rewritten over a hundred times already. It most certainly was the most dangerous heist that they would ever pull off, but they had no idea how they’d be able to do it. 

Each of the crows had turned their heads to looked at one another. They wondered if they were all thinking the same thing. One thing was certain: they all had a look of uncertainty on their face. They didn’t know what would happen, but they were most intrigued by the price tag attached to the heist.

“Alright,” Jesper was the first to speak up. “I’m listening.”

The leader proceeded to go through every single step of the heist, pointing out even the smallest details and every individual role assigned to the crows. The boss had already gone to great lengths to secure additional members to the crew, including men to sail the ship across the sea and a tailor who could alter their appearances so they could actually get into the court without being recognized. It actually looked like it could work. The only problem was...

“Wait,” Jesper interrupted. “You’re telling me that she can’t touch us, see us, or hear us throughout the entire heist.”

“That’s right,” Kaz nodded.

“Otherwise what? She can get into our heads?” Jesper questioned.

“And tear us apart,” Wylan said sorrowfully.

“From the inside,” Inej added. 

“There’s no telling what she’ll do to us if we are compromised,” Kaz confirmed. “The ancient texts say she can see every thought. Some have reported seeing hallucinations under her influence. The very nature of our reality will cease to exist if she gets into our heads,” Kaz replied.

“How do we even protect ourselves then?” Inej asked as if it was merely impossible. 

“She wears a customized straight jacket which prevents her from using her powers. It was made specially by a fabrikator,” Kaz explained. “She is also forced to wear ear, eye, and mouth pieces which prevent her from hearing, seeing, or speaking.”

“Where is she contained?” Nina asked, glancing back down at the map. 

“She’d be kept here,” Matthias pointed to the center of the map where the White Island stood. “In the dungeons to be specific,” Matthias added.

“It’ll be heavily guarded which is why Matthias, Wylan, and I will go in disguised as druskelle,” Kaz informed them.

“Not to be rude but neither of you look anything like Fjerdan,” Matthias almost let out a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was true though as both Kaz and Wylan were from Kerch.

“Not to worry,” Kaz snarked. “Our tailor will do a fine job altering Wylan and I’s appearance.”

“She’s going to alter you guys?” Jesper asked slightly worried.

“It won’t be permanent,” Kaz reassured him since he knew he’d worry about changing Wylan’s appearance once again. “It will disguise us long enough to get us inside the cell,” Kaz insisted.

“Would it be easier if we were all tailored?” Inej wondered. “That way, if she does happen to see us, she wouldn’t know what our real faces look like.”

“She’d still get into our head,” Kaz shook his head at the notion. “She’d know everything about us: our names, our races, our thoughts. It doesn’t matter what we look like; we are vulnerable to her.”

“How do we get her out if we can’t touch her or talk to her without her getting into our heads?” Jesper pointed out, changing the subject. “I doubt she’ll come willingly,” Jesper scoffed. 

“She’s attached to four heavy chains: two on the sides, one on her front, and one on her back. Each chain is connected to a larger metal cuff around her waist. Those chains keep her centered in the cell and are attached to the solid stone walls. It prevents her from moving around in the cell,” Kaz said slowly. He drew up the plans so they could visualize better.

Each of the crows leaned forward to get a better look at the designs he drew. It showed a faceless figure standing in the center of the room, wearing one large cuff around their waist. Sure enough, the figure was surrounded by four chains attached to the wall. It made more sense now to them.

“We break those chains and escort her out. We don’t touch her, only the chains. No matter what happens...we cannot touch her,” Kaz said to them all.

Kaz went to lean back. They looked at him expectantly.

“If we do...it’ll be the end.”

Author’s Note:

They’ll finally meet her in the next part, but what’s going to happen??? I hope you enjoyed this part of the series.

TAGLIST:

@d34drapunzel @adorawritesalot​ @vixythepixie​ @theghostofshadows​ @lonelywitchv2​ @arcadialine​ @zeeader​ @cleverzonkwombatsludge​ @shara-ne​ @iloveinej​ @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @mystic-mara​ @missymisha​

I always get the chills watching this!

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