Pairing: Wylan Van Eck x Squaller! Reader (platonic)
Word count: 722
Masterlist
Wylan didn’t want to trust anyone in the Barrel. It was so far from the life he’d known growing up. He could never tell who might turn on him or hurt him. Jesper had been kind when he got him from the factory. Kaz had been… civil when he offered him a place with the Dregs. But you were the first person he let himself trust. You were nothing he could have expected.
The first time you met, you’d come into the Slat with soaked clothes and a bone to pick with Jesper. Wylan had been fiddling with some formulas and didn’t dare look you in the eye when you stopped by his table, dripping wet, asking if he’d seen the sharpshooter. He hadn’t, but you stuck around for a minute anyway to ask what he was doing. You took a genuine interest in his work and only cut the conversation short when you caught sight of Jesper sprinting from the back door to the stairs. You gave a quick farewell, a promise to talk with him again, and took off after your friend.
From then on, Wylan had become your person. If anyone tried to pick a fight with him, they would have a ticked off Squaller on their heels. If he had a new formula he was struggling to crack, you’d have him talk through it with you until he could figure out what he’d been missing. When you came across a letter from his father before he could hide it, he decided to come clean to you.
“Wylan, if your father knows you’re here, why not drag you back to the mercher life?”
Wylan leaned back against the wall with his pillow in his lap.
“Because he doesn’t want me back.”
Your brows furrowed and he braced himself to continue.
“He thinks I’m a disappointment.”
“Because you’re slumming it with us? That’s hardly a reason; everyone in this stupid town is rotten. We’re some of the better company to be found here.”
“It’s because I can’t read.”
You stopped and stared at him with a blank look of mild confusion. When Wylan thought your brain might have frozen, you blinked and focused on him again.
“Well, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. I couldn’t read until I was eleven. My aunt never learned to read and she ran a farm just fine until her neighbor got too drunk and shot her by accident.”
Now it was Wylan’s turn to look confused.
“What?”
“Oh, she didn’t die. But she couldn’t walk right anymore, so she sold the farm and moved to Ravka. She’d got a nice little place there.”
“Y/N, can you focus, please?”
“Right. My point is, reading doesn’t mean all that much.”
“It does when your father is a merchant. When he expected you to take over the family business, only to discover that you’re too stupid to.”
You fixed him with a fierce look and grabbed his shoulder.
“You aren’t stupid Wylan. That’s my point. Reading is a boring skill. And people can only get so good at it anyway. What you can do is better.”
Wylan gave you a skeptical look and you continued.
“I can’t work explosives like you can. I can’t carry a tune to save my life, but you already know that.”
Wylan chuckled at the memory of you singing horribly off-key as a musician in the Crow Club played a jaunty tune you’d insisted you knew.
“You can though. You can make this disgusting, rotten Barrel a brighter place, at least for me. So screw your father. Forget him. You can be more than just his son and I’ll be right there every step of the way.”
When Wylan nodded in acknowledgement, you gave one firm nod in response and sat beside him.
“Now. I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve seen you read things before…”
“I hear someone else read it and just… memorize the words. I can’t actually read them.”
“How do you memorize that? It takes me weeks to put anything to memory. Drives Kaz nuts.”
“I make up a tune. If it’s got music to follow, I can memorize just about anything.”
You smiled and summoned a small bit of wind to tousle his hair.
“Our very own musical merchling. Who’d have thought.”
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Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Squaller! reader (platonic), Inej Ghafa x Squaller! reader (platonic)
Word count: 2,421
Masterlist
Change was the only constant in life. You knew that as well as anyone. That didn’t mean you had to like it. You were fairly confident in saying you hated it, actually. You hated when your parents took you from Ravka to Novyi Zem. You hated when they got sick and died, leaving you alone at the age of eight. You hated learning to survive, working the fields for four long years until you could afford passage on a ship that sank in the middle of the True Sea.Â
The first change you ever welcomed was the band of pirates that pulled you from the driftwood you’d spent two days floating on and took you in as one of their own. The captain in particular had an unavoidable soft spot for kids with fire in their eyes, which you had an abundance of. On this unsavory ship, you discovered your Grisha nature and embraced the call to the winds. Another Squaller taught you all she knew, while others on board trained you in combat and general thievery.Â
It was completely by chance that you ended up in Ketterdam. Your crew’s ship, the Firebird, docked for three days in Fifth Harbor. You were new to the country and were instructed to stay with at least one of the crew at all times. The last thing anyone wanted was for their spitfire junior Squaller to go missing in a place like that. Which is, of course, exactly what happened.Â
It turned out your honorary big brother, nicknamed Flint, the most rambunctious Inferni you’d ever met, had made port in Ketterdam before and left on less than good terms. The two of you were cornered in the Barrel by half a dozen Dime Lions. Even with both of you staying on guard, you stood little chance of escaping the encounter. Flint did his best to protect you, but by the time the gang left, he was bleeding out and you were beginning to develop bruises over your entire body.Â
“Flint, please. Don’t go.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, little breeze. I don’t think I’ve got much say in it now.”
The loving nickname only made the tears in your eyes gather faster.Â
“I don’t know the way back. You have to lead us back home.”
“I’m sorry.”
The last two words he spoke would haunt you for years to come. You stayed huddled next to his body for hours as you tried to push away your tears. It was there that Kaz Brekker found you. He was thirteen and you looked no older than him, but far softer and innocent. He would have passed you by, everyone else in the Barrel had, but something about your quiet sniffles, the slightest breeze that swirled around you in your grief, caught his attention.Â
“Miss?”
You sniffled again and looked up with unspeakable pain in your eyes.Â
“Please don’t hurt me.”
Kaz made no move to approach you.Â
“What happened?”
Your grip on Flint’s cold hand tightened and it wasn’t hard for Kaz to put the pieces together. Despite his better judgement, despite everything he’d learned about fending for himself and stepping over others to get ahead, Kaz wanted to help you. Maybe it was because he saw some fragment of Kaz Rietveld in the pain so clearly written in your eyes. Maybe it was the way you seemed loath to touch anything but the stiffening fingers of your lost family.Â
“Follow me.”
“Why?”
“Because your other option is to sit here in this alley and freeze.”
You grudgingly got to your feet. Kaz took notice of the oversized shirt you wore, cinched around your waist with a thin piece of rope you’d found on the Firebird. Your pants were rolled up to your ankles and your hair was kept back with a stained red bandana. Kaz led the way to the Slat and you followed silently, looking back for the first few minutes at the body of your dearest friend.Â
“Where are we going?”
“The Slat.”
“What for?”
“To get you out of the cold. Do you always ask this many questions or have I done something to earn an especially irritating walk?”
You shut up after that and wondered about your crew. Surely they would be worried about you and Flint. Maybe Feodora would gather a few others and come looking for you. You could hardly imagine how they’d all react to the loss of Flint. And how would they find you, now that you’d followed this strange boy with gloves and a menacing glare?
When you reached the Slat, Kaz ushered you in and went to see Per Haskell. You were left standing near the door, arms wrapped tightly around you. A few of the Dregs gave you odd looks, but most ignored you entirely. You were grateful for that.
It took a bit of convincing, but Kaz secured you a place among the Dregs. With your Squaller training and willingness to finish fights, you endeared yourself to the rest of the gang rather quickly. If Kaz was Dirtyhands, the terrifying enforcer with legends to rival Pekka Rollins, then you were the headwind, strong willed and stubborn, but soft when you wanted to be. You and Kaz balanced each other and had a common goal; destroy the Dime Lions and their leader, brick by brick.Â
You passed years this way. Despite Kaz’s protests and thinly veiled worry for you, you tagged along on the Ice Court heist. Being on the open ocean again was equal parts terrifying and liberating. You could never forget your fear and pain when your ship sank, but the memory was tempered by the loving voices of your old crew. The freedom you’d had with that ragtag family of pirates felt mirrored by your new landbound family.Â
After the fall of Van Eck, the destruction of the Dime Lions, which you made sure of personally, you were left wondering what was next. You hoped to remain in Ketterdam with Kaz. He wouldn’t admit it, but he liked having you around and trusted your judgement. You’d grown so accustomed to working side by side that neither of you really considered that it might change.Â
And then Inej came to you with an offer. She wanted to hunt slavers and you supported that dream. She asked if you supported it enough to join her on her first voyage as she learned the ins and outs of sailing. With Kaz’s encouragement, you did so. The first few days went smoothly. You helped her memorize protocols and orders. You taught her as best you could the things that came in time on the sea. And then you came across another ship. Its familiar flag and the name emblazoned on the side brought your heart into your throat.Â
“Y/N, what is it?”
Inej studied the ship, but it was completely unfamiliar to her.Â
“Be careful.”
“Do you know that ship?”
You couldn’t respond. You knew the flag. You knew the paint, the figure perched in the crow’s nest, but the new name was what had you reeling. In bold white letters, the words Little Breeze stared back at you across the waves.Â
It took too long and no time at all for the two ships to approach each other. Neither drew weapons or readied cannons. When the Little Breeze came up beside you, a figure moved from the sails and caught the wind, drifting over to land on the deck in front of you and Inej.Â
“Feodora.”
For a few seconds, she looked surprised. If you weren’t so torn apart at the sight of her after all this time, you might have taken pride in it. You’d rarely managed to surprise her in your time together. Then recognition bloomed on her face.Â
“Y/N? Our little breeze…”
You nodded the slightest bit and she smiled like the sun after a storm. When she took a step closer, you tucked your hands in close and she stopped. Even when you were young, you’d curl in on yourself to keep your space.Â
“So… this is where you’ve been all this time?”
“Only recently.”
Inej was still a bit lost. She knew little about your life before arriving in Ketterdam. Kaz had never been willing to tell her or anyone else, having determined that it was your story to share as you saw fit. You snapped out of your thoughts and glanced over to your friend.Â
“Inej, this is Feodora. She’s the Squaller who taught me all that I know. My first and best teacher. Feodora, this is Inej Ghafa. She’s my best friend.”
You both knew that title truly belonged to Kaz, but she was more than happy to share it.Â
The two women nodded to each other and Feodora turned back to her ship. She made a few hand gestures and a cheer went up from the deck. With an encouraging look from Inej, you caught a breeze and set foot on the deck of the ship you’d believed you would never see again. Feodora stood beside you and the crew surrounded you both. You were bombarded with questions, which you spent hours trying to answer.
“Now, now. I think our little breeze has grown tired. Everyone, give her some space.”
Feodora leaned against the railing beside you. She could see how it all weighed on you.Â
“You renamed the ship.”
“We thought it only right. We all missed our sweet little breeze.”
“I… I’m sorry we lost him.”
“Flint spent a long time outrunning his worst choices. They were bound to catch up to him eventually. We all just wished we’d had someone else looking after you. We might not have lost you both then.”
You nodded softly. It had been in Flint’s nature to cause problems. To pick fights he couldn’t win. You’d all known it, but he’d been your partner anyway. He’d done his best to look after you.Â
“Did you ever find him?”
“The next morning. Sent off to the Reaper’s Barge. There was nothing else we could do. But we could never find you.”
“I met a boy. He helped me.”
“Brekker. We’ve heard of him.”
“He’s not so bad. People just don’t know him. Not really.”
“Well, if anyone can find a soft spot in someone like him, it’s you.”
You both smiled and chuckled.Â
“I guess that’s my real talent, huh?”
“Absolutely. Wars could be ended if only you could meet both sides and ask them kindly to stop.”
You looked up at the sweeping sails and swinging rigging. You’d missed this ship. These people.Â
“You’re welcome to join us again, you know.”
“Do you have the authority to say that?”
“I took over as captain when Inga retired, so yeah.”
You laughed and smiled at the thought of Inga relaxing in some little house on a beach somewhere without a care in the world.Â
“Congratulations. But I don’t know…”
“We won’t force you. I just want you to know it’s an option.”
She didn’t say it, but you could feel her hope. Feodora wanted her fiery little breeze back. She wanted to sail again with the fierce, startlingly innocent girl she’d pulled from a wreck all those years ago. But you weren’t that little girl anymore. The girl she’d known wasn’t jaded. She’d been hurt, but she was still bursting with hope. That girl had died in the alley in Ketterdam with Flint.Â
You knew you couldn’t go back. You wouldn’t. You’d come too far. So you pushed off the railing and pulled Feodora into a short hug. By the time she could respond, it was over and you were stepping back, starting to create the distance that would separate you forever from the world you’d been forced to leave.Â
“I’m working with the Dregs now; they’ve taken to calling me a headwind. If you make port in Ketterdam again, we aren’t hard to find.”
“Wherever the wind blows, little breeze.”
“Wherever it blows.”
You told Inej what you could about your afternoon aboard the Little Breeze. You could only share the whole story with Kaz, the only person who could understand it completely. So you tucked it away in the back of your mind while you kept teaching Inej. When your trip was over and you pulled back into Fifth Harbor, you were glad to be back on solid ground.
That same night, you curled up in a chair by the window in Kaz’s office. He sat on his bed, his gloves tucked away for the night. He listened intently as you recounted everything to him, interjecting only when he wanted to know more details. When you were finished, he pondered how to respond for a moment.Â
“I didn’t make the wrong choice, did I? I just… I don’t think I could go back to being their little breeze. No matter how much I love them, I can’t let go of all I’ve learned, of the people I’ve come to love here.”
“The only person who can determine if your choice was right is you. It’s your life, your path to follow. But because you’re asking me, I think you made the right call. The person you were when you made port here for the first time couldn’t have survived Ketterdam for long. That shadow is just that. A part of your past that you can’t take in your hands and carry with you.”
You gave him a lazy smile that made him glad for the night he’d found you and replied in a mock awed tone.Â
“You are awfully introspective, Mister Brekker. Maybe you should be a philosopher at the college.”
You both let out little snickers at the mere thought.Â
“Maybe I should save you the trouble of worrying and just push you out my window.”
“I can catch a breeze, come back up here, and slap you with your own gloves.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Neither would you.”
Of all the things in your life that changed, you cherished the relationship you had with Kaz. He’d become a part of you, of who you were and who you’d someday be. You couldn’t have imagined as a child what your life would hold. You never could have dreamed that you would sail the True Sea with pirates and Grisha, be part of an impossible heist, and find family wherever you went. Your father had always told you that home was where the heart was. You had determined that your home was where the wind carried you.
