fathers ring

Book Reviews by my Dad

For Father’s Day, I asked my dad to write some reviews for books we’ve both read and he came through so beautifully everyone needs to read these

The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien:

Epic. It is not cool not to like The Lord of the Rings.

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin:

As epic as The Lord of the Rings. It is not cool not to like Game of Thrones.

The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling: 

My daughters grew up with Harry, Ron and Hermione…

…But, of all the other characters in the book, Arthur Weasley is the man…and, definitely, the Dad.

What was Harry thinking that he didn’t name any of his kids after him?

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer:

Creative! … and fun. Cinderella’s cinder is grease and Rapunzel’s tower is a satellite. Makes perfect sense.

The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater:

What is there not to love about the Raven Boys and the idea of ley lines being a bridge between spiritualism and magic and science? Also, I like the way things are described in there:

“The voice was careful, masculine and local; the vowels had all the edges sanded off…..”

“…there was something pregnant about the night…”

Maggie Stiefvater is the fairest of them all.

The Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer:

While I was reading it, it seemed ok.

It is like cheap whisky… you wake up promising to never do that again.

you know, even with all the other bill cipher related crap, and the weirdmageddon itself taken into account, i still think that the creepiest scene in all of gravity falls is when pacifica tries to stand up for dipper and explain herself, but her father just rings that bell and she immediately snaps her mouth shut, takes a submissive stance, and retreats in shame

your father was an inventor. you knew better than to trust him in the center of town. he came home with scrap metal and built ships to glide on the grass. when you were young, you loved him for making. for a brief five years, you hated him, embarrassed of the town loon, embarrassed of what raised you.

but time shifts things. the man in town wants to marry you. a beautiful man by every account, and you hear many accounts. your nose in books doesn’t stop the stories of him: Gaston, bright, young, proud. Gaston, who could hunt and carve and flex his muscles. who forgot even himself what was true and what was fiction. it is a small village in paris, at the base of a kingdom. he is the bachelor you should have your heart set on. 

you try to teach yourself to love him. he grins at you over beer mugs. never reads the books you suggest to him, drops one in the mud. and one night you hear him, drunk and singing, laughing with the others about your father, the crazy.

that night your father brings you a single white rose from a garden. you kiss your father and think of Gaston’s log cabin, where you could live in comfort.

they come for your father in the night. he is the property of the prince, on account of theft. his hands should be cut off and sewn to the walls of his house, to remind him of his failures. an inventor without hands is a death sentence. they come with fire and hatred. rip you out of bed. your knees hit the mud. you’re too small to fight them. they tear your father away from you, and your heart out of your chest.

you run to gaston. tall, fast, manly. you beg him. it’s a mistake, you cry, you must help - you gulp - and then we will marry. 

gaston laughs and slams oak door against nose. you stumble back, feeling like a knife is in your throat. you take the wagon horse and ride improper, legs spread and bent forward, none of the lady your mother would have wanted. you ride for the life of your father.

at the door of the castle you stop. it is raining. you shout and rave and beg anything. take me, you scream, if you’re listening i’ll do anything. what do you promise on that doorstep, crying yourself empty? what do you promise to keep him alive, to keep him whole, to keep him healthy?

the door opens late. no one is there. you remember, suddenly, the tale of the beast who lives here, who ate the prince, who is terrifying. you think you hear your father and suddenly you are running, following his voice down dark hallways with no ending. 

he is in a cell. his head is bleeding. you feel your breath hitch. 

“will you?” a voice says, “will you trade yourself for your father, take responsibility for his sin?”

“he’s innocent,” you snarl, “you animals.”

“the rose, belle,” he whispers, and you stare at him. a white rose that is wilting beside your bedside would have been the death of him.

“take me,” you say, somehow empty and full at the same time, “if that’s what you need.”

the first night is ugly. you spend it crying. 

over time, the castle learns you, and you learn it. you think you are imagining the talking furniture for most of it. invisible hands whisk food in and out, bring you ball gowns and petticoats and delicate flowers. 

and always, the beast. at first, you were terrified of it. always in the shadows. moving like a ghost, prowling. tall, slim. menacing. never showing any skin, any proof it might be human.

but time and comfort destroy fears. you don’t run when it is in the room, you no longer shield your face in fear. it wears a mask, and this is how you know it really must be beastly. 

it is the second winter when you, playing snowball fights with the statues - you manage to hit the beast in the face. you freeze, and the panic from the day they took your father returns in a firework.

but then the beast is throwing back. and you are laughing. the next morning it is at breakfast with you, and lunch. it comes and goes, and never speaks. laughs, sometimes, you think. talks with its hands. the furniture translates. you learn, because you are good at learning. the hands that mean can i come in? the hands that mean are you hungry? the hands that mean is it okay if i read next to you, here this book is good, i found this for you.

each morning you wake up with white roses by your bedside. you learn to talk a little louder than you’re used to, to move your own hands in a way that acknowledges the beast. it is strange that you were a quiet girl and now you are comfortable shouting. the two of you have your own language, together. it teaches you swordfighting, you teach it dancing. it teaches you archery and you teach it cooking. you walk through the gardens together. there are moments where your hands touch and for some reason you blush like it was kissing. you’ve never had someone who understands you so completely. sometimes you tell it about far-away stories. sometimes you tell it about your village. and sometimes, when you are raw, you tell it about gaston and the marriage you didn’t want and your father and his insanity

one of these nights the beast brings you the mirror. you cry when you see your father. and the beast is pulling you, running, picking out a horse from the stables, gesturing. go, go. you cry when you leave.

you save your father. tell him you’ll bring him back to the beast. do you talk too loud? is gaston only mad you never belonged to him? when the raid starts, you are still taking care of your father. outside, voices, ringing. kill the beast. you think of hands, dancing in the air to speak, and you think you have never heard something so ugly. you’re ashamed to be this species.

you ride in their wake, your father safe. you ride that same panicked race as three years ago to the day. 

you fight, because the beast taught you how. the castle fights, because it is protecting its life. and the beast - you watch the flash of a blade, careful not to kill - the ability you once mistook for savagery. 

it isn’t enough. gaston, and a gun. the three of you stand on the balcony, you in between. again you are begging this man, who means nothing. “leave the beast,” you say, “take me.”

“i’ll have both,” he says, and shoots. you feel the bullet streak by you. the beast is all movement, has pushed you out of the way. they grapple, and you scream when the beast falls, skittering. gaston marches over and you move without thinking. he falls into the night silently. 

you can’t get there quick enough. you gather the beast into your lap, begging be okay. at the mask, you whisper something, and then say it again with your hands. i love you, you say. you were the best thing to happen to me.

the mask slips. a voice says, “belle,” and you are hit with the full force of something that feels like music. you can’t breathe. 

the girl beneath the mask is beautiful. her blonde hair spills across your legs. she touches your face and her hands say i’m okay, and you’re laughing. you kiss her and roses open up in you. 

“i thought you were a beast,” you say with hands and lips a hair above hers, “and here you are, the beauty.”

she smiles sheepishly. it is hard when you are like me. 

your are sobbing. you kiss her again, because you can, because she’s here and perfect and the answer to questions you didn’t know you had been asking. 

her hands, curious, worried, search for your wet cheeks. i’m okay, really, belle. you saved me.

funny, your hands dance, i was about to say the same thing.

doxxedwine-deactivated20160809  asked:

Hello! God, I literally don't know if this is a real memory or not because it happened so long ago, but many and many a year ago I recall reading something about Hamilton (or maybe Burr?) sending a town into a frenzy over a ghost story or something. Something related to ghosts. And a Founding Father. Does this ring any bells? Pls help I'm trying to find info about it and I can't :( thank u my friend

That was Hamilton, and yes he sent a New York city into a frenzy by joining his nephew in playing a joke on the family by pretending to commune with the spirits.

Skid on my lawn and harass my family? Hope your job security is good.

Bit of background: (long story, tl;dr at the end)

I have known the people that committed these actions for quite a while. Some of them were good friends, some I had no beef with at all. Then they went rogue for no apparent reason.

Anyway, this happened a month ago and it progressed ever since. My family and I live in a rather quiet neighbour hood and like to mind our business. There are a few selfish individuals who live in my town who enjoy to harass people, do drugs and generally get up to no good. The main ringleader is a person I went to school with, he left a few years ago to go to a military school for whatever reason I wouldn’t know. Let’s call him degenerate.

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The Kdrama I Watch

Watching (on air):

My Father is Strange ep 33
Suspicious Partner ep 32
My Sassy Girl ep 20
Queen for Seven Days 4

Couldn’t finish the first episode:
The Liar and his Lover
Chicago Typewriter
Individualist Ms. Ji Young
Lovers in Bloom

Man to Man ep 1
Golden Pouch ep 90
Introverted Boss ep 10
Tomorrow With You ep 2
Ruler: Master of the Mask ep 8
Third-Rate My Way ep 10

Finished and personal rating:
Radiant Office 7,5
Strong Woman Do Bong Soon 10
Queen of the Ring 7,5
Hwarang 6,8
Goblin 8
Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo 9,5
My Secret Romance 7,8

List of things I got sent to the principle’s office for (in vague order from kindergarten to high school):

  • stabbing a kid in the hand with a pencil 
  • bringing my mom’s pocket knife to show and tell
  • grabbing and twisting a kid’s neck skin until he cried
  • kicking my best friend in the face (he had to get stitches)
  • rolling down a hill that was out of bounds in the school yard (I got poison ivy from that)
  • teaching my entire class exactly where babies come from
  • hiding under my desk
  • telling the teacher it was my birthday and she thought I was lying (I was my birthday)
  • teaching the class Santa Clause isn’t real
  • chasing a girl around the class because I wanted to kiss her
  • passing “notes” rolled up in pencil grips
  • not gripping my pencil properly to write 
  • refusing to spell my whole last name (pihlajamaki is a long fucking name ok?)
  • telling my class my rabbits died
  • bringing a baby rabbit to class
  • full body tackling a kid who said i cheated on a test
  • kicking multiple kids in the shins 
  • punching a kid in the stomach after he dropped his lunch tray on my head
  • bringing a nursing book about anatomy to school to show my friends what a penis is
  • punching a kid in the face when he fake asked me out to a dance
  • forgetting to bring gym clothes
  • kicking a kickball into a fence and popping it
  • not doing my spelling homework
  • wearing a pentagram ring my father bought for me
  • drawing wiccan symbols on my jesus box
  • saying The Pope kicked the bucket during a viewing of the funeral
  • laughing during mass
  • refusing to do the signs of the cross
  • throwing up during mass
  • telling the class that I hate them so much I dont care if I go to hell because I’ll bring them with me
  • writing about someone’s ass in my daily journal
  • drawing particularly violent things in art class
  • refusing to do point perspective drawing for the 20th time in art class
  • drawing legs on literally everything for a month
  • drawing still lifes without a reference and boasting the teacher couldn’t tell (she couldn’t)
  • painting on the wall, someone didn’t get the mural memo I guess
  • writing ‘i love girls’ on the bathroom wall
  • convincing my friend to snort caffeine powder 
  • not bringing my copy of the hobbit to class and refusing to get a copy from the library 
  • breaking the front door of the school by kicking it open
  • ‘hacking’ into the computers to put games on them
  • telling everyone the password to the computer system was bigyakdaddy
  • going to school on ‘senor skip day’
  • dropping out of the school system entirely (they thought I did it on purpose somehow like how I changed the administrative preferences)
  • printing out 200 pages of gay erotic fanfic
Under the Gloves

“Papa, what do you like about mom?” The lavender haired boy tagged along beside his father, both dripping with sweat as the doors to the gravity chamber closed behind them.

His father scoffed, eyes narrowing as he kept his stare straight ahead, “That’s an odd question.”

“Not really,” Trunks flexed his shoulders, wincing slightly. He was definitely going to be sore in the morning, “I mean, you guys are always arguing and stuff. Usually that means you don’t like each other.”

“You have a lot to learn about females.” Vegeta opened the door to the kitchen as Trunks practically ran him over; he could appreciate his sons ravenous appetite.

After the two of them raided the fridge, practically all of its contents laid out on the the kitchen island. Trunks through a large bite managed to say, “I mean, you guys never even hug in public. I’m not even sure you sleep in the same room all the time.”

With a roll of his eyes, Vegeta finally turned ever so slightly in his chair, “Your questions are irritating. Relationships aren’t always about mushy, useless displays of affection. If your mother and I didn’t want to be together, We wouldn’t-”

“You’ve got mustard on your glove.” Trunks interrupted, pointing with the chicken leg he was holding.

“Damnit,” Vegeta growled, dropping his steak to begin peeling off his gloves.

Trunks continued to gnaw on his lunch, mulling over his fathers words as he watched him carefully peel off the now stained gloves from his large hands. He’d always wondered about his parents relationship. Gotens parents at least seemed to like one another. His parents were like oil and water, flammable and volatile; but they’d been together awhile so there must be something to it…

The son of Vegeta nearly dropped his lunch when he saw the gold band on his fathers now exposed ring finger.

Vegeta tossed the gloves off to the side of the island and picked his fork back up. He finally noticed Trunks’s obvious stare and smirked, “I only wear it under my gloves. Don’t want to lose it. Sometimes relationships are the things you don’t see.” He finished quietly and went back to eating his steak, “And don’t tell your mother.”

Trunks smiled and happily picked up his chicken.

southsidesserpentroyalty  asked:

your blog is so wonderful, and your so good at writting and i was wondering if you could an agnsty fic where Betty is going through domestic abuse at home (any kind will do) and jughead figures out somehow and gets angry and protective 💙💛

I’ll give it a try!

The pain was still there, throbbing and aching, her muscles tense as she shifted her heavy schoolbag onto her shoulders. It wasn’t broken, she was familiar with what a broken collarbone felt like and this was nothing more than a pulled muscle. Distinct memories flashed through Betty’s mind, her father flinging her across the room, a Pop and then blinding pain, waking up to a bruised cheek and dislocated shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to hold your bag for you, I know you said you hurt it in cheerleading but whenever I pull a muscle in football I can hardly lift my duffle.” Archie spoke from her right, his hands ready to take the heavy book bag from her hands.

With a delicate shake of her head, Betty smiled weakly at the pain where her fathers ring had landed solidly on her cheek bone.

“I’m okay, I just have to walk it off.” She smiled gratefully.

They were on their way to pops, Veronica and Kevin were waiting for them but Betty had stayed late to practice her routine and Archie had after school practice. because of her injuries these last few weeks she was falling behind and Cheryl was not happy about it. She didn’t even want to think of what the redheaded she monster would say if she saw the bruising lining Betty’s collar bone.

Archie had just finished telling her all about his fathers progress when they arrived at Pops.

“That’s so great Arch.” Betty placed a reassuring hand to his shoulder and he beamed down at his best friend. Suddenly a familiar rumble broke Betty out of her and Archie’s personal bubble.
She knew that voice, she could point it out in even in the most crowded of rooms.

Jughead Jones, Betty’s ex boyfriend and Archie’s ex best friend, seated at the far back booth, Toni Topaz on his left and a large group of Serpents surrounding him.

“We can leave, we can get pizza and hang out in the basement. You don’t have to do this.” Archie clutched Betty’s arm. It was too late, sea blue eyes had already met meadow green and Betty was never one to back down from a challenge. Making direct eye contact with the newly changed young Serpent who she loved desperately, Betty looped her arm through Archie’s wincing slightly.

“It’s okay. I’m in desperate need of a milkshake.”

Veronica was standing by the time they made it to the booth
“Do you want me to kick her ass. I will, you know I will.”

Betty smiled weakly at the way Veronica was glaring at the pink haired girl. In actuality none of this was Toni’s fault, sure she had played a minor role in the demise of their relationship but she wasn’t the main reason.

“I love you Jughead! I’m trying so hard to accept all of this, your new life, your new family but it’s too hard!”

“Don’t you get it?! I don’t want you to accept it, this is where I belong! These are my people, they know me! They’re like me. I can’t deal with living two lives!”

“Then I’ll leave! I’ll go if that’s what you want!”

She had been bluffing, desperately begging for him to fight for her, it hadn’t worked out that way however

“Maybe thats for the best. Goodbye Betty.”

Maybe he had never loved her, maybe it was just words. He had Toni now and if she made him happy than Betty was happy. Well.. she could present to be happy.

“Earth to Betty, you’re milkshake is melting.” Kevin tugged gently on her sleeve, the light pink sweater riding up and revealing the fingershaped bruises. Kevin dropped her hand like it was on fire

“What are those?! Betty what..”

“It’s nothing!” The beautiful blonde quickly interjected, tugging her sleeves down. Perhaps she had spoken a bit too loudly, suddenly she felt eyes on her, looking up she saw Jughead staring intently at the table.

“Nothing?! Those are bruises B! And they’re shaped like hand prints… is that why you’ve got all of that makeup on your face..” Veronica reached over the tables, her napkin quickly swiping some of the foundation away from underneath her eye and revealing the purple and yellow bruise forming quickly, tears filled the raven haired girls eyes as she gasped, Archie stood abruptly, his knuckles clenching the side of the booth

“Someone’s beating on you!” He nearly screamed it, Betty gripped her bookbag tighter to her chest “and your shoulder! It’s not from cheerleading! Someone’s hurting you?! Who is it?!” Archie’s words were laced in venom, spiking Betty’s anxiety.

“It’s nothing! Leave it alone. I’ve gotta go. I… I have too…” Betty ran from the diner, avoiding the gazes and barely registering her friends calling after her.

She ran until her knees buckled and her shoes scuffed the grassy area, she was at the park when she finally collapsed. They all knew. Everyone knew. He was going to kill her, her father was going to kill her. Pulling her knees to her chest she buried her head in her legs, resting against the oak tree.
Moments later a figured dropped beside her.

“Archie, please. Just drop it okay.”

“A name. Give me a name. I’ll end him right now.”

Betty’s eyes snapped open, it wasn’t her redheaded best friend sitting beside her, but instead the dark haired boy she was in love with, the boy who had broken her heart.

“Leave me alone, Jughead.”

In a very uncharacteristic snort Jughead shifted even closer to her.

“No. absolutely not. I’m not all the way sane but I’m not crazy.”

Betty pulled her bag from the ground moving to stand up

“Fine. I’ll leave then.”

Jughead was faster, placing his hands softly on her shoulders and nudging her down, his foot kicking her backpack out of her reach.

“Hey!” Betty argued

Suddenly Jughead was nose to nose with Betty, there was something so deep and guttural in his eyes it physically made Betty shutter when his hands came up to stroke the deep bruise on her cheek

“Please.” He whispered “please tell me who’s doing this to you. Let me end this. I can’t..” the shaky boy choked “I can’t let this happen. I can’t believe I didn’t see this.”

Betty closed her eyes, tears pouring from underneath her long dark lashes
“You didn’t see me at all. You have a new family. A new life. Why do you even care?”

Jughead shook his head quickly dropping his forehead to hers

“You. You are my life Betty Cooper. I watch you everyday. I see you leaving school and I make sure you make it home okay. I’m at Pops just to see you…”

Betty cut him off
“Don’t kid yourself, you’re at Pops to be with your girlfriend.”

Jughead gently brought his hands up to cup Betty’s cheeks gently

“Toni is not my girlfriend, she’s a friend. I love you Betty Cooper. That’s how it is and that’s how it will always be. I watched you go home, I made sure you made it home okay, how could I have missed it, it’s no one in school. Archie would have known, and its…” suddenly a lightbulb went off in Jugheads mind, Betty hung her head in shame.

“It’s okay Juggie. He’s working on it, he drank a lot last night and he was angry. Mom left us, she took Polly. He’s.. he’s just angry.” She protested, her voice so defeated and weak it didn’t even sound like her own.

“You’re staying with me.” Jughead dug deep in his pockets handing Betty the keychain with the keys to his fathers trailer. “I’ll keep you safe, until we can figure this out, I need you near me. I.. I need you. I’ve failed enough. Please Betty. Let me do this.”

Jughead stared team into Jugheads eyes, his hands were bunched into fists as he plead with her.

Betty nodded slowly
“Okay.” She whispered

Jughead dropped a slow kiss to her forehead, shoulders stiffening when she flinched away.

He had hurt her, he was trying to protect her but in the end he had hurt her and things weren’t okay, they needed work, but he was willing to work harder than humanly possible if it meant getting Betty Cooper back.

When he came home that night, fists bloody and lip busted he found her sleeping on the couch, hotdog at her feet

Yeah, it was way more than worth it.

Jon Snow

Originally posted by xsciamachy

Jon x Reader

Your father sighed when he turned and caught you dawdling behind, watching Jon with a smile slowly forming on your face.

“Hurry child, it would do you no good to be caught staring at him, his is a son of our Lord… bastered or not.” He chided and hurried you along.

“You know most of the girls talk about Lord Robb but I think Jon is far more handsome.” You mumbled which made him scoff.

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Sons of Lawrence #16

Summary:  Sons of Anarchy meets Supernatural. In this AU, the Winchesters run the most notorious biker gang in Lawrence. They traffic illegal drugs, weapons, and anything else that makes them money and keeps them on top.
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Jo Harvelle, Mary Winchester,Balthazar, Michael, Gabriel
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,104
Warnings: Language, casual drug use, angst, someone gets stabbed.
Author’s Note: This series isn’t going to be light and fluffy. It will include explicit language, explicit sexual content, casual use of illegal drugs, explicit canon typical violence.
Miss the beginning?

Originally posted by sensitivehandsomeactionman

With the tension thick in the air, everyone took their seats at the table quickly. Dean sat in John’s chair and started the meeting in the same manner as his father; skull ring tapping on the table.

There was no point in beating around the bush. “Dad’s been put into a medically-induced coma,” Dean admitted, his voice weary from keeping his emotions under control. There were murmurs of confusion, so you elaborated further.

“With the bullet’s location, placing him in the coma was the only choice they had. It sounds like a death sentence, but believe me when I say that it’s John’s only chance of survival,” you added quickly, hoping to keep the gang from getting riled up.

Several men turned and glared at you darkly. “Where were you when he got shot?” demanded Balthazar, his accented-voice dangerously low.

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Royalty AU 4/5 (Kanej)


  • “Miss Dunyasha Lazareva, please come with me.” 
  • Dunyasha tosses her hair triumphantly, saunters forward with a smirk, and says to Wylan that he forgot the ‘princess’ part of her name
  • Wylan raises his eyebrows and says he’s quite sure he got her title right
  • Inej just wants to get out of this hellish beauty pageant and be reunited with her family (so she couldn’t care less about Dunyasha drunk on her victory, rubbing it in everyone’s faces as Duchess Van Houden’s servants and the girls scurry around with wedding preparations) 
  • but Inej feels somewhat melancholy?? because she won’t see Kaz again and he’s been more than a good friend to her in this hell place
  • the next time Kaz meets Inej (she climbs up to his room again), she says, “Congratulations on your engagement.”
  • Kaz’s heart sinks but he only gives a curt nod in classic Brekker™ fashion
  • Kaz and Inej then walk to the docks, talking to each other about their futures 
  • “I can’t deny that Dunyasha’ll be a powerful partner. The two of you together could shake armies.” Inej hesitates. “Did you choose her yourself or-?”
  • “I did.” Kaz doesn’t want to dwell on this moment too much, not with Inej so close to him. 
  • A beat of silence and then: “Does she make you happy?” 
  • “Why does that matter?” This comes out sharper than Kaz intends to.
  • “Because.” Inej says patiently. “You already seem miserable by yourself. I don’t think you need more of that with someone you don’t love.”
  • “Inej, marriages for nobility are simple. They might as well call them arrangements.” Kaz replies. “I’ve known my future all my life, but you, you have a chance to change yours after I get married.” 
  • Inej steps in front of Kaz and looks up at him.
  • “And if I want something more than freedom?”
  • Kaz’s breath hitches, but he refuses to think anything more of her words
  • “Then you better turn around.” 
  • Inej does, and sees her parents walking off the nearest ship in the docks
  • her feet start running before her brain catches up, and her parents both open up their arms and engulf her in a fierce hug
  • And the first thing that comes out of her mother’s mouth: “You get engaged not even a year since you disappeared from our lives?”
  • Inej stares at her mother and says she must be mistaken, she’s not engaged to anyone
  • Her father: “Nonsense, your beau’s the one who found us and paid for our journey here to find you after that count got married! He was right next to you just a few seconds ago.” 
  • Inej gapes, and then spins on her heel, but Kaz has already disappeared
  • her parents continue to talk and say that Kaz paid for their journey back home to Ravka and they’ll stay there until Kaz “pays us a visit soon!” 
  • But he’ll be married then, Inej thinks desperately. And the thought of him on her doorstep with Dunyasha clinging to his arm makes her blood freeze. Will she have to thank him for giving her future back like that?
  • she tells her parents to wait at the nearest inn and she’ll bring him back 
  • “I hope you do, Inej. That look you two were sharing a minute ago? That was something special.” 
  • this last phrase from her father rings in her ears as she weaves through the crowds on the docks, searching for a tall young man with black gloves and a crow headed cane, but Kaz is nowhere to be seen
  • and then she hears a gravelly voice behind a stack of stained fish crates: “The bastard’s marrying her tonight.” 
  • a chilling laugh accompanies the voice. “He’s got one hell of a marriage night coming, then.” 
  • Inej sneaks closer, crouching down in front of the boxes so she won’t be seen while eavesdropping
  • “Maybe he really did fall in love with Lazareva, after all. He’s been acting strange the past year.” 
  • “Better for us that she’s on our side. Once Brekker dies, we Dime Lions’ll take over what’s rightfully ours: his lands and his trading kingdom. Now c’mon, Pekka said that we can’t be late to the wedding.” 
  • “He invited us?” 
  • “Front seat to Brekker’s murder, right?”
  • the two chuckle and their voices fade away as they walk towards the church of Ghezen, where the wedding will take place 
  • where Kaz went 
  • and Inej doesn’t stop to think, she bursts out of her hiding place and starts sprinting towards the church
  • because Kaz was wrong, he’s not going to have a future like her
  • no, Kaz is about to die