Feel Free To Argue But-

Feel free to argue but-

Kaz. Inej. Nina. Matthias. Jesper. Wylan.

Each of them are the main characters.

Matthias Helvar, The Druskelle

A convict with a thirst for revenge.

Jesper Fahey, The Sharpshooter

A sharpshooter who can’t walk away from a wager.

Wylan Van Eck, The Artist

A runaway with a privileged past.

Inej Ghafa, The Spy

A spy known as the Wraith.

Nina Zenik, The Heartrender.

A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums.

Kaz Brekker, The Thief

A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes.

Six dangerous outcasts. One impossible heist.

The End.

Beneath the Howling Moon

masterlist

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 937

Summary: It a Full Moon Night and Lupin has to go to the Shrieking Sack where he finds Sirius.

---

The full moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the grounds of Hogwarts. Remus Lupin felt the pull of it deep in his bones, a reminder of the monster lurking beneath his skin.

He had always been good at hiding his pain, his fear, but tonight felt different.

More intense. More desperate.

He walked the empty corridors, each step echoing like a heartbeat, until he reached the familiar wooden door of the Shrieking Shack. Pushing it open, he was met with darkness, the kind that swallowed everything whole. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, sealing himself away from the world.

Except, he wasn't alone.

"Sirius?" Remus's voice was a whisper, barely audible over the sound of his own breathing.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and lean, with a mop of black hair that fell into stormy gray eyes. Sirius Black, his best friend, his everything, stood before him, looking as tormented as Remus felt.

"I couldn't let you go through this alone," Sirius said, his voice rough with emotion. "Not tonight.

Remus swallowed hard, the familiar ache of longing mixing with the ever-present fear of losing control. "You shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous."

" I don't care," Sirius snapped, stepping closer.

"I care about you, Remus. More than anything."

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Remus closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He felt Sirius's hand on his cheek, warm and steady, grounding him in the moment.

"I hate seeing you like this," Sirius murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I wish I could take it all away."

"You can't," Remus choked out. "This is who I am."

"Then let me help you carry it," Sirius whispered, his lips ghosting over Remus's. "Let me be here for you."

Sirius's eyes were filled with a fierce determination, a promise of unwavering support. He gently cupped Remus's face with both hands, his touch tender yet resolute. Remus felt the warmth of Sirius's palms seep into his skin, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. For a moment, they just stood there, breathing each other's air, their foreheads touching. The tension between them crackled like electricity, a tangible force that drew them closer.

"I've seen you at your worst, Remus," Sirius continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I've seen you at your best. None of it changes how I feel about you."

Remus's breath hitched, the weight of Sirius's words settling over him like a comforting blanket. He opened his eyes, meeting Sirius's intense gaze, and saw nothing but firm love and acceptance.

The air grew thick with unspoken emotion, the space between them charged with anticipation. Sirius's thumb traced the line of Remus's jaw, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Remus's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the silent plea he couldn't bring himself to voice.

"You're not alone," Sirius said softly, his breath warm against Remus's lips. "Not as long as I'm here."

Their mouths met in a desperate kiss, a clash of need and fear, love and anguish. Remus clung to Sirius, his fingers digging into his shoulders as if letting go would mean losing him forever. Sirius responded with equal fervour, his hands roaming over Remus's body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

They stumbled back, falling onto the rickety bed that groaned under their weight. Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the need for connection overpowering everything else. Remus felt the heat of Sirius's skin against his own, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

"Sirius," he gasped, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Sirius promised, his eyes dark with desire and determination. "I trust you."

Remus wanted to believe him, wanted to lose himself in the moment, but the fear was always there, lurking in the back of his mind.

Still, he let Sirius guide him, let himself be swept away by the passion that consumed them both.

Sirius's hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, and exploring every inch of Remus's body. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, a reminder that he was alive, that he was loved. He arched into Sirius's touch, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Please," Remus begged, his need almost painful. "I need you."

Sirius didn't hesitate, positioning himself over Remus, their bodies aligning perfectly. He moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust a promise of love and devotion. Remus's world narrowed down to the feeling of Sirius inside him, the pleasure building with each movement.

They moved together, a tangle of limbs and whispered words, their connection deepening with every touch, every kiss. Remus felt the tension coiling inside him, tighter and tighter, until it finally snapped, sending him spiralling into ecstasy.

Sirius followed moments later, his release punctuated by a guttural moan that echoed through the room. They collapsed together, a tangle of sweaty, sated bodies, their breaths mingling in the stillness.

For a long time, they lay there, neither wanting to break the fragile peace that had settled over them.

Remus felt a strange sense of calm, the fear that had gripped him earlier receding into the background.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Sirius tightened his hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Always."

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the cracks in the walls, Remus allowed himself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to face the darkness alone. With Sirius by his side, anything seemed possible.

Even love.

Zoyalai au idea! Pre sab

Young Nikolai and Zoya meet at the winter fete. He has just decided to join the first army, and she doesn't think an otkazatsya can actually make any difference in the field. She seems mean, but he still wants to ask her to dance. Yet he doesn't, because people are watching and he has learnt to please the court, he doesn't want to draw his family's attention to the grisha girl. He is leaving, he doesn't need any more ties to this place.

But maybe in another life he will be braver, maybe in another life he will ask and she will dance with him.

**In Another Life**

Under the high-vaulted ceilings of the Grand Palace ballroom, laughter and music mingled with the clinking of crystal glasses. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a warm glow on the lavishly dressed guests who danced and chatted, oblivious to the cold winter night outside.

The Winter Fete was a display of Ravkan nobility at its finest, but to Nikolai Lantsov, it felt like a gilded cage.

Nikolai stood near the edge of the ballroom, surveying the scene. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, having just committed himself to join the First Army. It was a bold move, one that he hoped would forge his own path away from the expectations of his royal lineage. He yearned for adventure, for a chance to prove himself beyond the pampered life of a prince.

As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on Zoya Nazyalensky. She stood apart from the crowd, a striking figure in a sapphire gown that matched her sharp, observant eyes. Zoya was a Squaller, one of the powerful Grisha, and her reputation preceded her. She exuded confidence and a touch of aloofness, seeming almost untouchable.

Nikolai took a deep breath, steeling himself as he approached her. “Good evening, Miss Nazyalensky,” he greeted, bowing slightly.

Zoya turned to face him, her gaze cool and appraising. “Prince Nikolai,” she replied, her tone polite but distant. “To what do I owe this rare honor?”

“I’ve just made a decision,” Nikolai began, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m joining the First Army.”

Zoya raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “An otkazat'sya in the First Army? That’s ambitious.”

Nikolai chuckled, though her words had a sting of truth. “I thought you might have some advice. After all, you’ve seen more of the real world than most here.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing him. “Advice? Surprising that a prince would seek advice from a Grisha.”

“Everyone needs guidance,” Nikolai replied, meeting her gaze. “And I think there’s more to you than the court gossips say.”

Zoya’s expression softened, just a fraction. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But let me warn you, Your Highness, the battlefield is no place for pampered princes. It’s harsh and unforgiving.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work,” Nikolai said earnestly. “I want to make a difference.”

“Wanting and doing are different things,” Zoya said, her tone almost gentle. “But perhaps you’ll surprise us all.”

Nikolai felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a glimmer of approval from someone he respected. He hesitated, then, his eyes flicking to the dance floor. “Would you care to dance?”

Zoya’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but before she could respond, a group of courtiers nearby turned to watch them, their whispers and curious glances weighing heavily on him. He remembered his place, the expectations, the scrutiny of the court.

He smiled, a touch ruefully. “Another time, perhaps. When the eyes of the court aren’t so intent on every move.”

Zoya’s gaze softened, a hint of understanding there. “Perhaps,” she said, inclining her head.

Nikolai took a step back, bowing once more. “I hope to see you again, Miss Nazyalensky. Maybe on the battlefield, maybe somewhere else.”

“Until then, Prince Nikolai,” Zoya replied, her voice carrying a promise.

As he walked away, Nikolai felt a pang of regret. He imagined a different life, one where he was braver, where he asked her to dance despite the eyes watching them. In that life, perhaps they would have shared a dance, a conversation that revealed more of themselves, and the start of something neither could predict.

But for now, he had chosen his path, one that led away from the glittering halls of the palace and into the unknown of the battlefield.

He cast one last glance at Zoya, her figure still a striking presence amidst the nobility, before stepping out into the cold night, ready to face whatever awaited him.

I don't think the problem here is feminist... TBH, before KoS and RoW even I disliked Zoya. But after KoS and RoW , it's like we got to know who she is. And for Kaz, we already came to know who he is right in SoC. So maybe, it's more like, we loved Kaz earlier , hence the superiority?

PS: my fav ships in the grishaverse: Kanej and Zoyalai

zoya ‘hatred’ is so insane to me because like. can we consider her life for a moment. sold by her own mother to be a child bride at age 9. groomed and manipulated in her younger years to serve only the darkling. loses the last person she truly loves (her aunt) when the darkling sets the fold on novokribirsk. watched countless friends and soldiers die during the war.

and you don’t like her because she’s ‘mean’? she’s better than me because if i suffered just one of the things she did, i would be WAY worse than a little mean and spiteful.

also, bear in mind, the same reasons people seem to give for not liking zoya - “she’s mean” “she’s rude to x” “she’s full of herself” are the exact same values they LOVE about male characters like kaz brekker.

Kanej || HOPE

masterlist // prologue // next chapter —>

---

Kaz

There was a knock on the door.

' What business? '

' It's me, Anika. '

Ever since Inej had left, Kaz had been alternating between Anika and Roeder as his new spiders. Neither were half as good, but he's had to do. They tried their best, but their best was not what Kaz needed.

    Especially tonight.

Unwillingly, he had, weighed his options and sent both Anika and Roeder, praying for their safety. If only Inej had been here.....

   His thoughts wheeled back to Inej..

Inej.

   He could have given her a reason to stay. He could have told her how she always managed to surge his adrenaline, make his heart thump...how she always managed to bring a smile on his face. He could have done so many things...

  Sankta Inej.

She was his Saint.

The saint he worshipped every damn single day, Praying, cussing, Shouting for her to return. But you don't worship a living saint. She would never know his pain. How lost he felt without her. How much he loved her. He could have told her—

     damn it! He could still write her. But formal letters containing information about the slaves were all he sent. Pages after pages lay helter-skelter in his study. Letters he wrote in the middle of the night calling her back, begging her to stay... telling her how he loved her... But he would never send them. If only, he could let go of his ego, his pride...

  'Open the door, boss. I have got some information.' The voice jolled him from his not-so-pleasant reverie, back to reality.

   'Focus, Kaz' , he willed himself.

 'If I didn't tell you come in, there must be a reason. I don't hire impatient spiders.'

    The voice behind the door tensed.

 'Come in.'

    The door creaked open, revealing a harrowed silhouette bearing the weight of a blood-stained, inert form in her arms.

   Blood was slowly dripping from her lips.

Hear me out guys!!

Is it just me who relates every damn thing , however little might be it be, with the Grishaverse but mainly the Crows?

Like start from History, move on to Economics, Pol Science, English, and holy moly, even Chemistry!! I remember stuff with SoC and CK reference and always find a way to compare them!!