#We don't talk about Brekker

[clarissaweasley-10]

Kaz and Inej: We are having a baby.. Wylan: awwww that' soo cute.. I am happy for you guys Kaz: *slams down adoption papers, it's you, sign here please.

[jazzkrebber]

Jesper: why should I make my bed if I'm just gonna mess it up when I go to sleep, anyway?

Colm: why should I feed you if you're just going to die, anyway?

Jesper:

Jesper: I'll go make my bed

[malconnorsupremacy]

im not crying

[barrel-crow-n]

Kaz and Nikolai.

The King of the Barrel, and the King of Ravka

The Bastard of the Barrel, the Bastard King

The boy they call a monster, the boy that housed a monster

The boy they call a demon, and the one that was an actual demon

The boy that is rumoured to have black, clawed hands, and the boy with actual clawed, blackened hands

Two boys that wear gloves: one that caused rumours of demonic fingers to rise, and the other hiding actual demonic fingers

Kaz who pretends, and Nikolai who is

[bitchthefuck1]

🔥 for kaz? Like it could be a general take about his character or a headcanon or something. or 🔥 about any of the crows in general

I feel like my more deep-cut opinions about Kaz are less unpopular and more just like. not as common? Like, beyond the "stop treating his cane like an accessory and acting like he's a sociopath" I guess the only one I can think of is that I feel like we don't talk enough about how curiosity and the need to figure out how things work is like. Kaz's most foundational trait. Maybe it's just because I know a few people like that in real life, so I can see how it runs under all the more obvious things about him, but I feel like it doesn't get emphasized or acknowledged nearly enough. Like if you asked someone what his most prominent personality trait is, most people wouldn't say that, which feels like an oversight to me.

[greedbent]

kaz still has an infatuation with sleight of hand "magic" tricks— not the same awe he had as a child (wide-eyed and naive with wonderment), but from the other side of things, now knowing how it all works, he likes doing these tricks for two types of people:

1) the folks who really cannot wrap their head around wtf is going on (aka: moi) and legitimately think he's some sort of demon performing dark spells or some hogwash like that; it's funny. those people are funny. what must it be like in your stupid little minds ??? boring, huh?

2) on a much more . . . weirdly pure note—? kids. ofc he'd never admit this because wow we've got a reputation to uphold, amirite? but he actually genuinely finds enjoyment doing lil card tricks or the like for children and just seeing the way their faces light up. maybe it reminds him a little bit of himself: the kid who died along with jordie. maybe he appreciates the tiny specks of purity that still manage to exist in the world ┐(°ヮ°)┌ he sure as hell ain't telling . . . if he himself even knows—

[milo-my-beloved]

things we don't say

A continuation of the some other life 'verse.

Playlist 🎵 Buy me a cup of tea ☕

Chapter One: The Little Palace

Inej's phone has been silent for two months.

"What's got you looking so miserable?" Nikolai asks.

They're a week into their third year at Ketterdam University, and it's her first shift at the Little Palace since the summer. Living on campus is convenient for 9am lectures, but it unfortunately also means every day is a reminder of her missing friends.

Inej shrugs, adding two pumps of vanilla syrup to the coffee she's making. "Latte for Feydor?"

"Thank you," he says, stepping up to the counter. "Have a wonderful day!"

Nikolai waits until the bell above the door rings and there are no more customers to distract her before trying again. "It's the start of a new year! You're in my presence! It's unusually warm for October! What is there to be sad about?"

She ignores him, skirting out from behind the counter to collect the abandoned mugs and plates from the tables. It's nearly time to close, and no one wants to be on campus this late.

"Come on, I'm worried about you."

Continue reading under the cut // Continue reading on AO3.

"Oh, 'Nej, you should have said!" Nikolai says, shaking his head. "I'm the expert in love. I give very wise advice."

"Do you," says Zoya flatly.

He wraps an arm around her waist, tugging her close to him. "That's why our relationship will never die, dear."

Nina beckons her over to the counter with possibly the most serious expression she's seen on her since Inej accidentally ate her leftovers. Sighing, she picks up her pile of dirty dishes and wanders over to them.

Working at the Little Palace coffee shop for two years has taught her two invaluable life lessons: how to make the best coffee this side of Ketterdam, and that her coworkers are unstoppable once they've latched onto a piece of gossip.

The tray of cups rattle as she dumps them on the counter with more force than necessary. Even the smell of coffee reminds her of him, and she hates he could turn her life upside down in a matter of weeks.

"Why didn't you say?" Nina says. "Do I need to kill that Kaz boy? Or did you find yourself a summer fling to break your heart already?"

"Kaz and I—" She hesitates, trying to find the politest way to put it. "We didn't work out."

She shrugs, as if the movement will roll the waves of fury and guilt from her shoulders.

"Why not?" Nikolai asks. "That day when you came here after your doomed escape room was the happiest I've ever seen you."

Nina scoffs. "You didn't see her reading her results last year. I swear she nearly fainted."

"We weren't right for each other," Inej insists. She loves her friends, but they don't need to know about last summer. It started as the best month of her life, only to crash and drown in August. "And Nina, don't be so dramatic."

Nina holds her hands up in surrender.

"I like you better when you're grumpy," Zoya says, looking Inej up and down. "But I don't care about your love life. It's nearly 6pm and Nina's made a mess. Let's close up now."

Inej carries the dirty dishes into the kitchen before they can interrogate her further. No one follows her. It's hard to tell whether it's because of her mood, or the state Nina has left the kitchen in.

Flour coats every surface. Honey smothers the metal countertops. Inej takes a cautious step forward, and a broken egg shell crunches underneath her boot. If it weren't for the gentle hum of the oven and the scent of Nina's famous waffles, she would assume Nina set off a baking-related bomb.

She dumps the washing up on the draining board and turns on the hot tap. Her friends mean well, and she shouldn't take her anger out on them. It isn't their fault that she isn't on speaking terms with Kaz.

He hasn't spoken to her since August. She didn't expect that to change. In fact, if they managed to avoid each other on campus for the rest of the year, that would be perfect.

Jesper and Wylan, on the other hand... well, she'd thought they were friends, too.

Jesper called her two weeks after the break up to ask her what happened. She'd told him the same vague story she just told her coworkers, and he hadn't tried to call her since. Wylan had been equally quiet, but he's never been much of a texter.

Jesper has always been Kaz's friend first, so it's only logical that he would take Kaz's side. But, stupidly, she'd convinced herself that the reason they hadn't called was because they were busy over the summer holidays. As soon as they returned to campus, she was sure they would all go back to the same dynamic they had in July.

If she'd hoped Kaz would apologise at the start of the new term too, she would never admit it to anyone.

"Need any help?" Zoya asks.

Inej looks around at the mess. She would prefer to be alone right now, but it would also take her a while to clean all of this up by herself. "Please."

Zoya opens the supplies cupboard and collects the supplies they'll need: two bin bags, a brush, a hoover, and a mop.

Inej wipes all the flour onto the floor and starts sweeping it into a pile while Zoya gathers the rubbish and washes her hands.

"I'm sorry about your boyfriend," Zoya says.

Inej's grip on the broom tightens. "It's fine."

Zoya shoots her a disbelieving look, but doesn't push it. "If you need to hide a body, the freezer outside is big enough to—"

"I'm not killing anyone."

"I'm sure we could arrange for Nina or Matthias to."

"We're not killing anyone."

"Alright, I'll drop it. Pass me the broom and fill up the bucket, will you?"

Inej obliges. They clean up the rest of Nina's mess in silence.

She appreciates Zoya's support, even if the offer of murder is a little drastic. Those two months she spent alone were long, and although she knows her parents did their best to cheer her up, she's glad for the reminder that her friends have her back too.

There's a glint in Zoya's eye that suggests she might try to kill Kaz with or without Inej's permission. She's as fiercely protective as the dragons from the bedtime stories Papa used to tell her. If Nina and her wanted to make a man disappear, she has no doubts they could get away with it.

Inej is shoving the hoover back into the cupboard, battling the mop's repeated escape attempts, when someone pounds on the door to the cafe.

Zoya sighs, halfway through taking her apron off. "That'll be Nikolai forgetting something again."

Inej snorts, slamming the cupboard door shut and bracing herself against it as the mop bangs against the wood. "Maybe he just wants to hang out with you."

"Don't be so romantic," Zoya says. "He's been with me all day. He probably left his hand cream or something equally idiotic behind. Let me see." She exits into the main cafe, leaving Inej on her own to wash her hands and collect her belongings.

It's a new term. She has a fresh start. She needs to pull herself together and throw herself into her studies so she can get the first she's dreamed of and forget all about her old friends.

Zoya reappears in the doorway, looking twice as tired as she did when she left to answer it. "There's a man here for you. Says it's urgent."

"Who?" she asks.

Zoya shrugs. "Not your boyfriend."

Inej shakes her head and mutters a quick prayer to anyone who might be listening before stepping past Zoya and into the cafe.

Jesper is pacing in front of the door, mumbling to himself and chewing his thumb like Wylan used to.

"'Nej!" he says as soon as he sees her. He rushes forward, crowding her into a too-tight hug. "God, I've missed you. Where did you disappear to?"

"My parent's house," she replies drily.

"Doesn't matter, you're here now," he insists, releasing her. "Look, Inej, you've gotta help me."

Now that she can look at him properly, some of her anger dissipates. This isn't another one of his ill-fated matchmaking schemes; he's here for something serious. By the looks of it, she isn't the only one who had a terrible summer.

He's replaced his usual stylish outfits with a stained hoodie and loose sweatpants, and the bags under his eyes look like sacs of ink. There's always been a light in his eyes, a mischievous glow that reflects his playful personality. But today, his eyes are dull, and rimmed red.

"What's wrong?" she asks against her better judgement.

"Wylan," he says, his voice tight. "His dad found out that he's engaged, and he pulled Wy from the uni and is keeping him prisoner in their house. I've barely been able to talk to him for months."

Well. That explains why she hasn't seen Wylan on campus.

"That's terrible, Jes," she says, biting her lip. She tries to keep her voice gentle. "But what can we do about it? Wylan's the same age as us, isn't he? If he's legally an adult, then the university must have got his permission."

"You don't understand." Jesper paces again, wringing his hands together. "Wylan is in real danger. We've got to get him out of that house and into mine without his dad knowing."

Inej folds her arms. She can't imagine the pain Wylan's going through, but this sounds serious enough to take to the stadwatch. "Even if you break him out, I'm sure your landlord wouldn't let you add someone to the tenancy agreement so last minute."

Zoya walks in from the kitchen, flicking the lights off as she goes.

"Nina asked already," Jesper replies. "Our landlord agreed to Wylan coming, as long as we're married."

"So you need to elope, too." Inej shakes her head, stopping suddenly. "Wait — our?"

Jesper scratches the back of his neck. "Did Nina not tell you? I'm living with her and Matthias this year, because you're on your own and my old flatmate is doing a placement year in Ravka—"

"Did you know about this?" Inej asks Zoya.

She shrugs on her coat. "Everyone does. I assumed you did too."

Great. She's a week into her fresh start and her life is already falling into chaos. There's no way she's going to avoid Jesper if he's living with her other friends.

"Look, Jesper—"

"We can come up with a plan," he declares. He seizes her hands, squeezing them tight. "Please, Inej. You're one of my best friends. Please help me."

"If I'm such a close friend, then why didn't you talk to me for months?"

"I tried texting the group chat! Wylan's dad stole his phone, but you don't have that excuse, and neither does Kaz."

She bristles at the mention of his name, but her heart sinks nonetheless. Both her and Kaz muted the group chat within a week of it being made — Kaz blocked Jesper's number altogether — but neither of them had the heart to tell him.

Inej softens her glare. "I'm so sorry. I thought you were ignoring me, so I never thought to reach out myself when you needed my help all this time." She squeezes his hands back. "This action will have no echo."

"You can make it up to me," he pleads.

"Of course I'll help," she says. "But I'd better be a bridesmaid at your wedding."

He finally cracks a smile, a bit of light returning to his eyes. "Absolutely."

Zoya clears her throat. "Can we move this emotional moment outside? My bed is calling to me."

"Right." Jesper shuffles out of the door and into the mild autumn night.

"Sorry," Inej says, following him. "Goodnight!"

"See you tomorrow," Zoya says, locking the door behind her and vanishing into the dark.

Inej turns to Jesper. She could still bow out of his scheme now. His plans almost always end badly, and she would love to follow Zoya's example and disappear off to bed.

"Explain everything from the start," she says instead. "And leave nothing out."

[danaris112]

LMAO

This made me laugh

No comment

[frogwithastrawberry]

I don't think we talk enough about when Kaz was holding the parem to hide it from Nina. Because to me, that scene is a pretty good example of their relationship.

Nina was fully willing to do anything to get the parem from Matthias. If it was picking his pocket, fine. If it was sleeping with him, fine. I feel like she was probably willing to do more with Matthias than say- Jesper or Wylan. (I feel like she would have avoided Inej for Inej's own comfort)

But she was still willing to do things out of character for her to get the parem.

Yet, when she heard that Kaz had it, she stopped. You can say it's just because she knew Kaz would probably hurt her but here's the thing: I don't think he would have. Kaz is pretty big on "protecting his investments", and he isn't going to injure one of his crows greatly right before a huge plan.

And I think Nina knew that too. I think the reason she didn't try to reason with or steal from Kaz was partially because she knew she wouldn't win. But her knowing she wouldn't win also means that she was guaranteeing to herself that she wouldn't use her powers on him. Because even Kaz Brekker isn't immune to an altered Grisha's powers.

Nina wasn't willing to hurt Kaz and break his boundaries for the parem, and I don't think Kaz was willing to hurt her.

[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

[jeanthebeagle]

Grishaverse/Ketterdam dashboard simulator

🪙 Barrelrat1877 follow

just spilled my drink on a Fierdan's boots and now he's threatening to duel me. Should I call the stadwatch??? I'm lowkey scared.

#guys please help me

10 notes

🐦 Dregsconfessionsofficial follow

SUBMISSION: Last night I was walking around the barrel and I saw dirtyhands petting a dog. Like I'm not even joking, no gloves and all. And it was one of those crusty white ones.

#submission #omg I hope he washes his hands??? # those dogs are so crusty

10,350 notes

🌊 tidesofthecanals follow

Final results from 672 votes

♠️ kvasandass follow

Razorgulls stop sending anon hate to op over a poll challenge, level impossible, no glue no borax.

#i hope they get caught for tax fraud

380 notes

🐝 thislittlelife follow

A drawing my talented daughter made of Sankta Alina. We pray to her each night 🙏🙏🙏

🐾 magic-tricks follow

46.244.29.14

🍄 thekingofravkaishot follow

hello??? Omg. Why would you dox someone just like that??? This is literally putting them in danger. It's just a sweet mother with her child, who posted a drawing. What is wrong with you.

🏵️ krugebythedozen follow

Op admitted to lying like a year ago about how they don't actually have a kid, but took the post down. It's probably a dime lion trying to troll us like they did in mass when sankta alina died. Also, respectfully, shut up. You posts thirst traps and long drawn out texts on how the king of ravka is "babygirl���. Go get help.

47 notes

🤝 theholyhandofghezenofficial follow

To the citizen who spread a highly damaging rumor that we were hosting a petting zoo inside the church, please come to talk to us. You are not in danger, but words will be exchanged. Lots of trouble was caused due to careless behavior.

⚖️ ketterdamfails follow

Womp womp

9,789 notes

🎀 justapigeon follow

Hey guys. Sorry I haven't been able to update my Pekka Rollins x Jan van eck fanfic. I've been searching for my mom for almost a week since she ran away after hearing that you had to get a vaccine for Firepox after the last outbreak. (She believes in praying to the saints.)

248 notes

🍪 eatthemerchs follow

I hate all of you. Why is this website making Kaz Brekker a soft boy when he literally MURDERS PEOPLE. No, he won't cry if you hug him. No he doesn't want to pet your dog. He'll take your eye out.

Stop romanticizing crime, all of you are sick.

(I am TIRED of the dog memes. Brekker is a crime boss. Why would any of you think he'd even care about your dog.)

🐾 magic-tricks follow

Your border collie is nice. But your chihuahua barks too much.

15,370 notes

🦂 northerstaverner follow

literally just saw some tall ass guy with a huge gun, a revolver and the brightest outfit l've ever seen, trot past my window??? In broad daylight??? Like oh my god. It felt like looking at a stork who made a wish he was human. His clothes were purple and green. Who wears that. Like, iconic. But still.

🐰 jeepsteristhebestshot follow

But was he handsome

🦂 northerstaverner follow

He was built like a stork.

🐰 jeepsteristhebestshot follow

But was he handsome???

🦂 northerstaverner follow

I'm not answering that... who is this.

🧁sugarandredribbons follow

Op answer

☁️ theweststavesucksass follow

Op we all want to know

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OP THIS IS AN URGENT MATTER

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[srslyblvck]

ashes to ashes, kaz brekker

pairing: kaz brekker x inferni!reader

synopsis: you lose your powers, in an accident. you distance yourself from the crows, so kaz comes to confront you.

warning: hurt, comfort, angst.

word count: 1.3k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE FLICKERING FLAMES HAD always been a comfort, a reminder of the power that surged through your veins. The control over fire was more than a talent; it was your identity, your weapon, your shield. But now, staring at your trembling hands, you saw nothing but the stark absence of what once defined you.

Kaz Brekker's lair was as cold as the man himself, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets. You found solace in the corners of the Crow Club, avoiding the pitying glances of the Dregs. Losing your abilities had turned you into something you despised—a liability.

Days had turned into weeks since the accident. A heist gone wrong, a trap set by an enemy too clever and too cruel. The poison they used had severed your connection to your Grisha powers, leaving you as ordinary as the common folk you once scorned.

You felt like a shadow of your former self, a specter haunting the halls of the Crow Club. The looks of pity from the other members of the Dregs were almost unbearable, and the whispers behind your back cut deeper than any blade.

One evening, after another day of feeling utterly useless, you found yourself sitting alone in the dimly lit room Kaz had given you. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on you like a physical force. You couldn't escape the gnawing feeling that you were a burden, a weak link in the chain.

A knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. Before you could respond, the door opened and Kaz stepped inside. His presence was imposing, his eyes scanning the room before settling on you.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice devoid of the usual edge.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your trembling hands. "About what?"

Kaz closed the door behind him, leaning on his cane. "About you. About what's been going on."

You looked away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. "There's nothing to talk about."

Kaz's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me. You've been distant, avoiding everyone. You're not yourself."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "Not myself? Of course I'm not myself. I'm nothing without my powers."

Kaz took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "Is that what you really think?"

You stood up, anger and frustration boiling over. "What else am I supposed to think, Kaz? I was useful. I had a purpose. Now I'm just...I'm nothing. A liability."

Kaz's eyes flashed with something you couldn't quite place. "You're not a liability."

"Yes, I am!" you shouted, your voice breaking. "I can't fight, I can't defend myself, I can't do anything! I'm useless to the team, useless to you."

Kaz's eyes, dark and calculating, bore into yours. "Feeling sorry for yourself won't change anything."

You clenched your fists, the nails digging into your palms. "Easy for you to say. You haven't lost what makes you...you."

Kaz's face remained impassive, a mask of calm authority. He limped closer, each step deliberate, measured. "You're more than just your powers," he said, his voice steady.

"Am I?" You turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't feel like it."

Kaz was silent for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. "You think hiding away is going to help you feel better? You think isolating yourself will change what's happened?"

His words cut through the fog of your despair. Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, pushes you to face the harsh reality. It was almost unthinkable. You turned back to him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but found none.

"How do you expect me to face everyone?" you asked, your voice barely audible. "How do I keep going like this?"

Kaz's jaw tightened, his expression unwavering. "You find a way. You adapt. You survive. Hiding doesn't solve anything."

The simplicity of his words stung, but they also resonated. You had always admired Kaz's resilience, his ability to turn every disadvantage into an opportunity. If anyone knew how to rebuild from ashes, it was him.

"I don't know if I can," you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

Kaz's expression remained cold, a mask of indifference. "You can. You're still you, with or without your powers. Your mind, your courage, your loyalty—those are what make you valuable."

A lump formed in your throat, and you struggled to speak past it. "It doesn't feel that way. I feel...lost."

Kaz took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're not lost. You're just finding a new path. And you don't have to do it alone."

His words were a lifeline, grounding you in a way you hadn't felt since the accident. Kaz, in his own way, was offering you more than just comfort; he was offering you hope.

"You saved my life many times," Kaz said quietly. "And most of the time, it wasn't because of your powers."

You looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember Pekka Rollins' ambush?" Kaz's voice was steady, but there was an edge of intensity. "You got me out before they closed in. You had no time to use your powers, just your quick thinking and courage."

Your mind flashed back to that day, the chaos, the desperation. "That was different. I was still useful then."

"And the Ice Court?" Kaz continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "You navigated us through that labyrinth. No fire, just your wits."

"Anyone could have done that," you muttered.

Kaz's voice grew firmer. "What about the Heartrender at the Little Palace? When we had to kidnap the Sun Summoner? You shielded me from her attack, with no time to conjure a flame. You saved my life."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "But that was then, Kaz. Now, I can't even—"

Kaz cut you off. "Your value isn't just in your powers. It's in your loyalty, your intelligence, your determination—those are things that can't be taken away."

You sank back onto the bed, burying your face in your hands. "It doesn't feel that way."

Kaz moved closer, his cane tapping lightly against the floor. "Feelings can be deceiving. You need to see yourself the way I see you."

You looked up, meeting his gaze. "And how do you see me, Kaz?"

He held your gaze, his voice unwavering. "I see someone who's strong, even when they don't feel like it. Someone who's valuable, even without their powers. Someone who has the potential to adapt and overcome."

The intensity of his words struck a chord deep within you. For the first time since the accident, you felt a glimmer of hope.

"But what if I can't?" you whispered. "What if I can't adapt?"

Kaz's eyes never left yours. "Then I'll help you. We'll find a way, together."

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. Despite his cold exterior, Kaz Brekker was offering you something you desperately needed—belief in yourself.

"Why do you care so much?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

Kaz's expression hardened slightly, but his eyes remained steady. "Because you're one of us. And we take care of our own."

The simplicity of his words brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. Kaz wasn't known for his kindness, but in his own way, he was showing you that you mattered.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

Kaz nodded, his demeanor as composed as ever. "Don't thank me yet. We still have a lot of work to do."

You managed a small smile, the first in what felt like an eternity. "I guess we do."

Kaz turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Remember, you're not alone. We'll figure this out."

As he closed the door behind him, you took a deep breath, the weight on your chest feeling just a little lighter. Kaz was right—you weren't alone. And with his support, maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to rise from the ashes.

[swanimagines]

A MISTAKE | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: Imagine doing an unsuccessful heist and Kaz taking it out on you.

The heist hadn't gone as planned. It was no one's fault, you had just been incredibly unlucky, but Kaz was still enraged at everyone and looking for a guilty one, accusing everyone on their turn before you stepped in.

"Kaz, stop it." You sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself. "We could have done nothing otherwise. Sometimes these things happen, it isn't anyone's fault. You made a brilliant plan, we all tried to follow it-"

"No," Kaz grumbled, glaring at you in turn. "A mistake like this can't happen without someone taking responsibility. You weren't much of an use either, or what were you doing there at the hallway when guards were rushing towards us? We could have hid, but you gave us away before we could. I blame you all the same for this failure!" He shouted, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Your face dropped at Kaz's words and you took a step back from him. His hands clenched around his cane as he glared at you.

"I didn't do anything wrong," you mumbled, trying to hold his gaze.

He snorted and turned away from you. "Yes, you did. This wasn't your first job, so why the hell did you think you could get away with going solo there?!"

You rolled your eyes, clenching your jaw. "I had to! They could have reached us and killed us all if I didn't slow them down!"

Kaz scoffed. "If you would have followed the plan, we could have had an opportunity to hide!"

"No," you shook your head quickly. "They knew exactly where we were, they would have surrounded us and either imprisoned us or killed us! For your information, I saved our lives so thank you so much for your fucking gratitude!"

"Kaz, they're right, we could have-" Jesper tried to intervene but Kaz interrupted him.

"This is between me and them, keep your mouth shut!" Kaz growled.

"Hey, let's just all take some time to calm down." Wylan murmured as he carefully approached you but Kaz still hadn't stopped.

"You're of no use," he snarled at you. "We don't need people like you during heists, maybe you should take up the broom instead or stay in your room, out of sight."

"Kaz!" Inej scolded him while the rest of the Crows stood dumbfounded, staring at Kaz in shock.

Your eyes became glossy, tears threatening to spill over. But Kaz still didn't seem to care. So you turned around and sprinted towards the Slat, letting the cold wind bite your face as your tears finally began cascading over your cheeks.

The Crows stood there for a while, seeing you disappearing to the crowd. Then they all laid disappointed looks at Kaz.

"Happy now?" Nina sighed and started walking faster, with no doubt of wanting to offer a listening ear for your once again broken heart.

They all knew you both had feelings for each other, but you didn't deserve to be treated like this by him. Kaz was usually cool and collected, but his conflicted feelings for you merged with frustration was never pretty to watch. But this was something worse than your usual bickerings, and Inej noticed the slight flash of regret in Kaz's eyes. He hid it incredibly well, but it was still there. She'd pop by his window in the morning and talk him into apologising to you like so many times before - you deserved to know he still cared about you, even when you had fights like these. She was just concerned about how many fights would you take before giving up on him...

---

Inej's presence floated in the air early in the morning. Sun had barely risen, and Kaz had once again stayed awake the whole night. You had usually made him sleep a little, even take a nap. Telling him his brains would be able to work harder if he slept and he wouldn't feel so frustrated.

But yesterday, from obvious reasons, you hadn't come to talk him into going into bed for a little while. It had felt weird, but Kaz knew the reason. Nina had taken food with her at the evening and headed towards your room, laying a glare at Kaz as she passed him but didn't say anything.

Kaz had sensed Inej long before the shadow passed his desk and Inej's soft steps approached him.

"Kaz," she sighed. "You owe them an apology."

Kaz ignored her. "What time is it?"

"Early."

"Is anyone else awake yet? We need to start working on a new plan."

"No. We need to talk about your fight yesterday with a certain Dreg."

"Why?" Kaz asked, irritated.

"When will you go and apologise to them?"

"There's nothing to apologise for."

"You had them cry in Nina's arms for an hour. Nina had to help them to fall asleep. So yes, you do have something to apologise for."

"It's fine, Inej."

"I'm serious, Kaz."

"They'll get over it."

"If you want them to hate you forever."

"They already hate me," Kaz muttered.

Inej sighed, staring at Kaz for a moment. Kaz ignored her accusatory look and just continued working with the plan. Suddenly, Inej's hand appeared on his way.

"Saints, Kaz!" she exclaimed suddenly and Kaz's eyes met hers for the first time today. "You need to think about their feelings for once."

"I don't have time to think about whether someone gets hurt from things I say, in the Barrel, you have to be tough and if you aren't, you're screwed." He huffed.

Inej sighed. "We all know you care about them more than you care about the rest of us. We know you have feelings for them."

Kaz paused then, letting a long breath through his nose. "I don't have feelings for them."

"You do. We all have seen how you look at each other. Nina has heard your heart when you look at them. You both are just so stubborn and won't act for it. It's getting ridiculous."

"It's not like that."

"You say it's not like that, but still everything points the other way."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Kaz growled, his fingers tapping the desk.

Inej groaned. "Kaz, you know you want to go to apologise. Swallow your pride for once.."

He huffed. "Dirtyhands being soft for someone doesn't fit the picture."

Inej laughed and rolled her eyes. "I know that while living in the Barrel and being a crime boss, it's necessary. But I know you. This is just petty, and you don't want to lose them. Go apologise. Or I'll drag you there."

Kaz looked at Inej for a moment longer before he took a big breath in and stood up. "Fine," he grumbled, "I'll go talk to them."

---

Kaz didn't know how long exactly he had stood in front of your room. He couldn't help but think that you would be too angry at him to speak - and Inej's claim of you having feelings for him.

It wasn't possible. Kaz's feelings for you were hardly possible, so yours would be even less. And you'd deserve someone better than him anyway.

Kaz tried to convince himself of this, but a little voice echoed at the back of his head.

What if they do like you back?

He stared at your door for a moment longer before finally bringing himself to knock.

A groan was heard and then your groggy voice, "Coming..."

The door opened and Kaz's heart started to beat faster the moment he saw you. You squinted your eyes at the light and when you recognised him, your expression immediately transformed into a scowl.

"What do you want?" you snapped, your hands on your hips and your hair messy from sleep.

Kaz opened his mouth but then shut it again. You were angry, he was sorry but he didn't know how to word it. He sighed.

"I thought we should talk this through," he finally said, taking a step forward.

You didn't say anything and just stared at him for a moment. "Oh, mighty Dirtyhands wants to talk now."

Kaz groaned and was quiet for a moment. "I owe you... an apology."

"I don't want to hear it," you said and attempted to slam the door shut, but Kaz got his cane between it and pushed himself inside to your room.

"We need to talk," Kaz said, moving his cane into your way again. "And I won't leave until we do."

"Stop that," you snapped.

"Why?"

"Because I'm trying to be mad at you."

Kaz bit back a smile at that. "If you want to be mad at me, you need to have a proper reason for it."

You huffed and crossed your arms. "Fine, then talk."

Kaz sighed and laid his gaze on his hands gripping the cane. "What I said last night was needless and inconsiderate. I..." He clenched his jaw and cast his eyes downwards for a moment, and then met your eyes again and continued. "I apologise for it."

He glanced up at you, expecting to still see your anger, but instead, your expression was confused.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that."

Kaz smirked at your confusion. "I know how to be an asshole, but I'm trying to be a good boss, too."

You chuckled. "I've gotten used to you being an asshole even when I know you care about me- care about us, I mean, so... it's weird to hear you apologise."

Kaz huffed with a small smile, his heart thudding. He smiled at you, and you were smiling too, and he felt his heart jump at that.

"Have you slept at all last night?" you asked him.

Kaz shook his head. "No. I had work."

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Work can wait, you go have a nap right now."

You opened the door for him, and you began ascending the stairs together. Kaz smirked at your order. "And if I won't?"

You laughed. "I'll knock you out and drag you to bed. Your call."

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[witherydithery]

Us knowing so little about his past outside of his time in Ketterdam really just emphasizes Kaz's obsession with Rollins and Jordie's death. Like how the death of his Da gets, like, one sentence, meanwhile, everything he's done since he was nine years old has centred around Jordie's death. It also really furthers the death of Kaz Rietveld that we know so little about who he was, like maybe he never even existed.

Kaz's backstory makes me sad often because we actually know so little outside of his trauma. It makes sense for his character and arc, that what we know of him, is generally just his pain and primarily his experiences in ketterdam. But what about his home life? Who was his mom? Was kaz the kind of kid to follow jordie around when he was just trying to hang out with his friends? Did him and Jordie even have friends? Neighbors on nearby farms? Who were the nearby adults who may have known of what happened to their father? Did any of them try to help them, or stop Jordie from leaving? Are there people still there who remember the tragedy of the Reitveld family? Does anyone remember them?

[writing-havoc]

HII! HOW ARE YOU? Okay so i have a kaz brekker x reader request but it's kinda meh but i just can't stop thinking about it. And it's kinda similar to your fic 'high' (my favorite piece of media EVER)

So fem!reader (or gn whichever is easier for you<3) drunk and makes fun of the way kaz talks and his hair and the way how he's really bossy. (I would so call him emo king) and he's just trying to get her to take a bath (be a fish) and rest.

Please please don't feel pressured you can just ignore this. Don't forget to drink water. Have a nice day or night love youu<3

Loverboy

♡ Summary: Kaz comes and fetches you after you have a bit too much to drink. Getting you to bathe and rest for the night is a little more difficult than he remembers.

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Alcohol, Nudity (not smut)

♡ WC: 3.5k

Hello hello!!! Thank you for your request <3 I'm doing pretty alright thank you for asking. I hope you're doing okay!

I loved being prompted to expand on this and experiment with how it would go. To be honest that's also one of my fav pieces of work that I've done, and I'm glad someone else holds the same joy for it that I do!

Anyway, here it is!! Hope you enjoy it anon, ly <3

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

"Oh for Ghezen's sake just put one foot in front of the other." Kaz nipped, pushing just a bit harder on your back.

Your head was lolling back and to the side, unwillingly looking at the stars. Yet your eyes remain half closed, barely a fraction of your pupil visible in the moonlight. A smile is painted on your face the whole time, lips chapped and cracked from dehydration. "'M tryin' Kaz. But my head is just, so heavy and the stars 're so pretty."

"I know I know- hold on to the cane- the cane!"

He shouldn't have let you have those last few drinks, but unfortunately you batted your little lashes and made the same little promises you do after enough time has passed for his memories to become just a little bit muddled and forget how far from the truth your promises are.

You'll say you'll be fine. You'll say you'll get home safe. You'll say you'll see him soon.

But you can't really fulfill any of those. So he at least has the foresight to stay with you, or to have someone else stay with you and come get him when you down more than your promised two or three.

And he makes a big deal out of it, saying all these things and talking like he's annoyed with you, but really?

He's not.

Not as much as he thinks he should be anyway. If he had heard anybody else complaining as much as he does in his own head he'd stuff his own glove in their mouth and tell them to deal with their inadequate relationship elsewhere.

But it's him, and it's you, and it's different.

You're not like them. You're not violent or a verbal tyrant or negligent.

"Did I ever tell you..." You start, then chuckle to yourself when you straighten up and sway around. "Did I ever tell you that kin'a remind me of a cat with your hair slicked back like that?"

You're,,, silly. And he feels silly saying that but you are. It's the perfect word to describe you when you get like this. Light jabs at the things you like about him, your feet walking to a rhythm in your head that makes you stop and go and speed and slow at random, laughing at the most mundane things.

"I don't believe you have, no." You definitely have. But he allows you to repeat it.

The Slat is wonderfully empty as he opens the door. Only a few people occupy the tables off to the side, but they're just as drunk as you are, and he doubts they can see this far from their drooling.

"Come on." He leads you over to the stairs. "Up we go."

You lean on the rail, shaking your head, smile gone. "Mh-mhn. I can't." You continue to shake your head, eyes closed. "Your leg is bad."

Silly.

"Good observation. Your legs, however, are fine, if a bit wobbly. Up you come." He tries again to coax you up, to no avail. You lean on the rail more, even pushing into it.

He forgot how much you resemble an ox when it comes to getting you to do something. It's like you contain this ability to just plant yourself anywhere and stick no matter the force that's pulling or pushing you.

"Your leg is bad. I can't go up."

"My bad leg does not effect your ability to walk up the stairs." He says as gentle as possible.

"But it does."

He sighs. "Could you explain to me why that is?"

Your bottom lip pushes out just barely, eyes opening and looking at him through your lashes. It's a look that would have any man in Kerch on their knees, he's sure of it. "Need your help."

His heart sunk. "Just grab the railing and my cane, dove. I'll take my good leg up first."

You analyzed the stairs, scrutinizing them. "Promise?"

"You know I don't make-"

"Promise?" A hint of anger bubbled in your tone, the same firmness in your eyes when you snapped your head to look at him.

He takes a deep breath. "I promise."

And just like that you were ready to ascend the stairs. You grabbed the railing, clumsily reaching out for his cane which he gave readily.

Even in your drunken state, you knew exactly which stairs creaked and which ones were just this side of broken. You skipped a stair, glaring at it as Kaz ascended with his good leg first, then continued with your usual lax expression.

He tried to step with his bad leg, but you immediately backtracked and held his cane firmly, holding him back as well. "You promised." You bit out.

"I did." He switched back, good leg going up, slowly edging you along. "It just slipped my mind."

"Nothin' slips your mind." You pouted, begrudgingly ascending when the cane went too far to hold close.

"Important things," he corrected. "Important things don't slip my mind."

You yanked on the cane, making him look at you. "You're important."

And he... doesn't know what to do with that.

Of course in whatever realm you were occupying he'd be important. He's important for a lot of things. His businesses, his club, whatever constitutes as leader of the crows.

It's not that he thinks he's not important. He just forgets to take into account that with you, he's important in the little things too.

Pointing him where to massage on his leg when it's giving him trouble, bringing him fresh tea when he tries to drink the day old stuff pushed to the corner of his desk, at least reminding him to sleep when the clock reaches two bells in the dark hours.

And right now, when you force him to take the pressure off his poorly healed shin.

"You're right." He confirms, helping you to the top of the stairs. "I am. Now come on."

When he began to lead you to his room, you groaned and stood in place. "Noo. I don' wanna fish."

His mouth struggled to stay in a line, corners quirking up. "You have to fish. You're sweaty and you smell like alcohol."

"I's a good smell."

"You gag in the morning when you smell it."

"Hogwash, you walking shadow."

He tugged you along, walking ahead of you and up the stairs to the attic. His help wasn't much needed here with how narrow and more secure the steps were, but you needed the extra hand to coax you up and towards your inevitable bath.

His office was dark, the only thing preventing the room from being cast in complete darkness was the street lights outside pushes a faint yellow glow through the window.

A lantern was stored in a bookcase next to the door for this reason. He clipped his cane onto his belt and hooked a finger under the handle, giving you little assurances that he wasn't going to let you fall while he navigated the room he knew by heart.

He parked you by his makeshift desk, guiding your hands to the desktop for some leverage while he rustled through a cabinet for the matches.

Immediately you were enthralled with the fire. Nina thinks you were an Inferni in your past life, and he finds the idea hard to not believe as he watches your once droopy eyes widen and follow the ball of fire in his hand as it lights the lantern.

He closes the shade, putting out the match and watching you smile as the whole room lights up.

"So bright." You whisper, as if it's your first time seeing fire.

He shrugs off his coat, throwing it over the back of his chair. "Very. Don't touch it."

You pout, taking your hand away. "I don't know what you're referring to."

He takes the lantern from where it rests on the desk, unhooking his cane and walking to the bathroom. "Come take your bath."

"'Come take your bath'." You mock him. "You're a bossy bossy man, you know that?"

He can't see you as he hangs the lantern on a hook, but he knows your hands are on your hips and your head cocked to the side. You always became so sassy when the initial fuzziness seems to wear off.

"It's what im paid for." He calls, swirling the basin of water he had filled up before he left. It was only expected that you should get a bath tonight, and he didn't want to wake anybody now of all times to come and fill it up.

"Youre not getting paid right now."

He didn't have any soap. He used up all of his last time and you usually keep yours tucked in your room, eager to hide its existence from greedy hands.

Just water will have to do, since he doesn't trust you to not fall asleep in the time it will take to go to your room and retrieve yours from your spare set of shoes.

He exits the bathroom, coming face to face with you. "I should be with how I'm ordering you around right now."

He waves you over, and it seems at this point you're becoming too tired to really fight back. You shrug off your outer layers, leaving them in a pile on the floor that you attempt to kick to the side. It's seems you think that you did away with them well enough, but really you just kind of spread them around.

That will have to come later, he thinks, and then puts a hand on your bare shoulder as you take off your shirt, throwing it over the side of the basin. Your pants come off and are thrown at its base, shoes somehow already off in the time span it took to check the tub and come retrieve you, socks following.

"You can keep your undergarments on if you'd like." He says, resting his cane against the wall.

"Oh don't get shy on me now, Kaz. You've seen me naked at least a dozen times." You look back at him, a shit eating smirk on your face.

He's thankful for the warm lantern light to obscure the warmth creeping up his neck and nipping at his ears. "Only because we end up in situations like these. It's more efficient to just get you clean now than have you complain in the morning and almost throw up in the tub."

You moan, the sound throaty and like gravel. "I don't wanna be a fish."

"You dont have to be one for long. Just a few minutes until you're clean."

"Can' be clean if there's no soap."

"We can at least get most of the grime off. Come on, one leg over the other."

Slowly, you climb into the tub, Kaz helping you get in with minimal sloshing.

And now comes the hard part.

His gloves are made of leather. He can't dunk and soak them in the water and expect them to be fine later.

They come off quicker than last time, but just as shakey. He puts on two pairs of cloth ones he's kept in here since the third time this happened, when it became apparent that this would happen again and several more times after.

Once they're on he flexes his hand, feeling the cold unforgiving waves slosh at his knees and lick up his thighs.

It's not the same. It's a bath. It's you.

"Can you get your body?" He asks, though. Because as much as he'd like to be of some help here he can't help but need to touch you the least amount as possible.

You think it over, stretching out as much as the tub allows before nodding. "M'yeah, I can do it."

He hands you a rag, watching it sink under the water and become several shades darker.

He turns around and allows you to do your thing, but knows your routine from when you, Nina, and Jesper had a heated debate about which order to wash your body in.

You'll wash your neck and chest first, digging into your collars bones and over your shoulders, then do you arms, followed by your torso and around your back. Then you'll scrub at your legs, moving to your face, then your waist, then your feet.

It'll take about ten minutes to go over every part, scrubbing in places you think have the most grime, and all the while having your shampoo already scrubbed into your hair so that you can rinse everything out all at once.

But you're tired and drunk, and he doesn't know how far you'll make it down your list until you eventually get frustrated or too exhausted or both.

He listens to the water in the tub move as your scrub yourself beneath its surface. A throaty hum emanates from your throat, a tune oddly familiar to the song that plays in the club filling the room.

Every once in a while you'll sigh, the water halting. He'll lean back and ask if you're alright, and you'll hum and get right back to scrubbing.

It's fifteen minutes before you say anything.

"You alright t' do my hair?"

His stomach churns, acid bubbling at its entrance.

"Ill be fine."

He turns, gesturing with his finger for you to lean your head into the water.

There's a pause before he reaches into the cold depths, wondering if he actually /will/ be fine.

When you look at him, eyes rimmed in red and glassy, he scrounges up whatever stability and modicum of the word "cope" he has and dunks them in.

Immediately he finds your hair, burying his fingers between the strands and finding your scalp.

It's hard to feel anything besides temperature with these gloves, and your head is practically burning against the cool water.

You're definitely cold. He can tell by your flushed cheeks and the way you curl your arms around your waist, goosebumps littering your arms. Yet you remain warm under his touch.

He watches the little hairs on your arm wave in the bath current as he scrubs, almost hypnotizing in their back and forth movement as you move to let them rest against your thighs.

But it's not enough.

He's scrubbing your hair, trying so hard to just focus on the grime under his fingers as his hands make the cold water slosh. The feeling is oddly familiar to the waves coating his hands as they dunk half under as he clings to blue flesh.

But you look at him, and your giggle is like little bells that keep him above water, just for the moment.

"You know what you look like?" You ask. "You look like- oh, what's that new style they got goin' on?"

He has no idea what you're talking about. Fashion trends are far beneath his radar unless necessary for a job.

You snap your fingers, pointing up at him. "Emo!"

That makes his eyebrows raise. Because he is familiar with Emo, because a bunch of kids called him that when they were out much past their bedtime. They found it necessary to shout it at him while he was passing by, laughing as they ran into an alleyway.

"I don't think that's accurate." He manages to get out, dunking your head a little further to cover your ears and get the wisps of hair in front of them.

"It's sooo accurate." You draw out your o's, blinking slowly and out of sync. "Emo king."

He sighs. "Whatever you say, little fish."

You pout, moving away from him and turning belly down, chin dipping into the water. "I thought I was your dove."

Again, thankful for that warm light. It makes his stomach feel all twisty the way you say "your". For just a moment, he let's himself smile, really smile, and puts his chin on his hands. "You are. But right now, you're a fish."

You huff, turning back and putting your head within reach. "Okay, mister emo cat."

He sighs, beginning to scrub at the parts of your scalp that he already got but feels he needs to do another once over for. "I am neither emo nor a cat."

"Tell that to your hair, loverboy."

Loverboy.

He scoffs, taking his hands from your hair. "Your hair's done. Get out so you can dry off."

You laugh at your accomplishment, sitting up and scrunching your hair as he discards his wet gloves on a towel rack and dries himself off.

Honestly, loverboy? He's not some lovesick puppy. Loverboy applies to those who are unfathomably whipped, wrapped around their partners finger and touching at all times. It has no place being in the same sentence that his likeness occupies except to say that he is not a 'loverboy'.

He hands you a towel as you get out of the tub, heading to his closet to fetch you some of his clothes.

"An old one, please?" You yell out to him.

"I know." He calls back.

If he can help it he replaces his button ups every few months. But you like the ones that are just around that area of wear and tear. In your words, they "ain't tight and smell like him. Win win."

He doesn't bother with pants, but grabs a pair of his underwear for you to change into instead that he knows you'll find more comfortable.

As he limps back to the bathroom, he halts as he analyzes his thoughts and actions.

Fuck. Maybe he /does/ deserve the name Loverboy.

The realization almost makes him groan and sit down on the floor right then and there.

Can't he just carve his heart out? Isn't that what the poets and song writers do?

Alas, he is neither a poet nor a musician. So he will instead take the long way out, and bring you his clothes and get you into into his bed before the third bell chimes.

He hands you the clothes, watching your face light up for a moment before he exits to his office to clean up the mess you made.

The beak of his cane hooks under your coat, dragging it up and into his hand which he then throws onto the chair. You hate getting it off the coat rack, half the time pulling it with you when you take your coat back. So he sets it here for now, and takes your shoulder bag and shoes and organizes them around the chair just as you usually do.

"I think I found my new look."

He turns around, seeing you trying to pose against the wall. It's supposed to be sultry and sexy, but it definitely does not read that way with your soaked hair, stiff back, and uncooperative limbs.

"If you think so." He nearly chuckles, taking his gloves from your hands and slipping them onto his own, and then retrieves the lantern from the bathroom. "Come to bed."

Thankfully, you seem to love the idea of the bed. It doesn't take much to lead you to the little nook he calls his bedroom. He hooks the lantern to the wall as your body slumps onto his partially eaten sheets.

"Mmm." You hum, smile hidden under your squashed cheek. "Warm."

"Doubtful." He jabs, unfolding a blanket at the foot of the bed and draping it over you.

"It really is. Should try it sometime." You poke at the space beneath your eye, tongue sticking out.

He assumes you're referencing the eye bags that have taken permanent residence on his face, to which he rolls his eyes and hikes up the blanket to cover your back. You hate the cold creeping in.

If you wake up cold in the morning, you will be cold for the rest of the day. And unfortunately for you, you have a job in about six hours.

The less you have to complain about, the better.

"Ill try it later." He promises. "For now, you need it more."

You mumble something, but with the way your eyes are drooping he figures you're not even aware you said anything at all.

As you doze off, he half sits on his nightstand, and watches your breathing begin to slow and even out. It's loud at first, but eventually you grow quieter and quieter, muscles relaxing as you sink into his hard mattress.

Your hair is thrown about everywhere, still wet from your bath, and you'll need Nina to remove a kink in your shoulder in the morning. But for now, you're calm, and safe, and that's enough.

He takes a deep breath, just the same as you do, and then sighs.

"Goodnight, little fish." He mumbles, and then stands, off to collect the ingredients for a hangover tonic and catch up on paperwork.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Tags:

@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @a-candle-maker

[reputationgf]

summer went away, still the yearning stays.

kaz brekker x grisha.

genre - slight angst, fluff.

summary - Three years ago you were taken away from Kaz to Ravka to train as a Grisha, now you found your way back to him and he was your again, Kaz Rietveld was yours again.

word count - 2.3k

a/n : hi wow writing after a long time !! also the summary of this sucks lowkey but we roll <33 please reblog/comment it makes my day <33

leave reqs here !! (no promises tho)

The little palace never felt like home. Something about being considered superior and the ongoing talks about how being a grisha was a gift by the saints, one meant to be cherished made you irritated. Being a grisha was what took your real life away, took you away from a person you cared for the most, Kaz brekker.

Kaz brekker was known by many names be it the bastard of the barrel or dirtyhands but you never knew him as those, to you he simply was Kaz Rietveld, to you he would always be the boy who was caring and smart and broken. Life hadn't been kind to him and it probably still wasn't.

When you both were fourteen and were roaming around the streets of Ketterdam without a care in the world on your part, some grisha came and took both of you to be tested, Kaz wasn't one but you turned out to be, and then without a choice you were taken away from him to the little palace. You wished you had put up more of a fight, maybe even tried using whatever powers you had to free yourself, maybe then you'd still be in Ketterdam with the one you wanted.

But deep down you knew however hard you would've tried you wouldn't have been to run away. You missed everything about your old life even if it wasn't the most safe and comfortable, even if you weren't guaranteed a meal everyday, even if it meant living on the edge everyday cause it meant you could be with him.

You were now seventeen and you felt like you knew nothing except the fact that you missed him. And now you were amidst a war for a country you weren't sure you cared for but you still helped of course, you battled for Genya to receive her justice, you battled for the people who lost their lives due to General Kirigan being an abomination to the society and using people as pawns in his own twisted game.

"Zoya let me come with you to Shu Han." You spoke with eagerness in your voice.

Ever since knowing about the plan to hire the crows to retrieve the Neshyenyer from Shu Han you've been on your toes. This could be the one chance to see him before you possibly died. You weren't going to give up on that.

"Tolya is coming with me I've already told you this once before." Zoya said, Her voice was dripping with sternness, she didn't want any further arguments, "besides why do you even want to come with me?"

You glared at the woman in front of you, it felt as if the fire that normally blazed through your fingers was now in your eyes, "you know why." You said, your voice cold, your jaw clenched.

Zoya studied you, she saw the way your hands were in a tight fist and how your lips were in a thin line. She noticed the slight hitch in your breath and the way your eyebrows were scrunched, then she met your eyes. Your eyes were filled with a fire she had only seen once before when you had found out General Kirigan's reality.

"Fine. You can come with me," She said tilting her head slightly, "don't make me regret this." A smirk rested on Zoya's face.

"I won't. Thank you." You said and gave her a nod, going away to get ready for your travels to Ketterdam and then Shu Han.

Ketterdam. You had so many feelings about Ketterdam that it overwhelmed you. Was Ketterdam your home? Maybe it was cause he was there. Or was it your enemy, the place which broke and bruised you, which made you feel as if someone took a dagger and slowly ran it through your body, just enough to sting forever. Was it a place that placed an irreplaceable hurt in you or was it a place you longed to be in cause he was there. Sometimes you found yourself missing Ketterdam, or maybe you just missed Kaz. After all, it's always the people who make a place feel like home, a safe haven.

-

The whole ride to Ketterdam to you was completely utterly anxious. Your fingernails dug deep into your fist, your bottom lip so chewed out that you could now taste blood in your mouth. You had to remind yourself to breathe and your heart to beat. One of your hands reached the necklace that laid against your chest, your fingers softly gripping its pendant— a heart, engraved with flowers around the corners and a capital R in the middle. You had remembered the day Kaz had given it to you, it was your fourteenth birthday. He had nicked it from a pawn shop and hoped you'd like it. You remembered it as clear as day how he gave it to you, it was a memory that brought you peace, taught your heart how to beat again. You closed your eyes, releasing the tight grip of your fist and freeing your lips from your teeth. Taking a deep breath you lost yourself in the memory.

"hey," Kaz called out to you, your name leaving his lips, "come in"

You followed Kaz into his room and sat on the chair of his study, he opened his cupboard and removed a small circular velvet box. Your eyes curiously followed the box and him as he sat on the bed opposite to your chair, his hand still holding the box. You looked at him and slightly raised your eyebrows.

"happy birthday" he said, holding out the box for you to take. His voice seemed almost emotionless, like always, but this time you could hear the slightest quiver in it. Was Kaz Brekker nervous?

Your face adorned a smile, "is this for me?" You asked him, your voice slightly teasing.

"yes." He spoke, motioning you to take the box.

You took the box from him gingerly, a small thank you leaving your lips as you gave him a big smile, your finger ran along the edges of the box feeling the soft velvet and then you opened it. A soft gasp of surprise leaving your mouth as you removed the necklace out of the box, "Kaz! This is so precious" you said, an even wider smile now covered your face, the one where he could see your teeth, "thank you so much." You spoke earnestly.

"I'm glad you like it." Kaz spoke, the tiniest of smiles on his face.

You studied the pendant, your finger dragging along the pink flowers carved along the heart's edges, you smiled at the 'R' in the middle of the heart, "There's a 'R' in the centre of the heart" you said, your eyes meeting his, your eyebrows raised slightly as if questioning him.

Kaz remained silent, you felt as if you said something wrong, maybe you shouldn't have pointed it out, maybe it was accidental. But then Kaz said, "This way, there's always a piece of the real me with you." of course it wasn't accidental, kaz brekker is a mastermind, everything he does will always have a meaning.

"Thank you," you said, putting the necklace on, "I love it"

He merely gave you a nod and you left his room.

-

"Let me do the talking." Zoya said, her eyes on your face as you stepped into the crow club, you hummed a noise of approval your eyes desperately searching the dim lit room which reeked of alcohol, a smoky haze covered the room. Someone approached Zoya, you didn't know who he was nor you cared cause it wasn't him.

You soon got lost in your thoughts again, kaz often had that effect on you. You couldn't stop thinking about how he would react to seeing you, would he even acknowledge you? Would he show the slightest reaction? You weren't sure. Soon, Zoya grabbed your arm and tugged on it, "Let's go? I've been calling your name." Her voice had its usual sternness.

"Yeah, right, sorry." You spoke softly, your face held a look of melancholy, Zoya noticed it and her eyes softened, she placed her hands on yours gingerly and gave it a gentle squeeze, "it'll be okay" she said softly, offering you a small smile. You gave her a warm smile and a nod as you both walked towards a hall led by someone.

"Boss will meet you here", the man said as he opened the door to a room which looked like a study, you walked in and Zoya took a seat on the wooden chair kept opposite the table. You walked along the room, your eyes taking in every single corner of the room. You saw the painting hung up on the wall, scrolls of paper neatly placed on the side table, a black wool coat hung on the coat rack. Your breath hitched slightly, "was it his?," You thought, your hand reaching out to touch it, your hand grazed along the soft wool and then you heard the door open. You turned around and your eyes widened a little, your mouth slightly open, a breath left your mouth and your eyes met his striking blue ones. You felt as if time had stopped, you could feel your heart beating fast, so fast that you could feel it in your throat. "Kaz" you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Kaz's eyes widened a little, you could see his grip tighten on his cane, you gave him a little smile, he had to remember you. How could he not?

Zoya's sharp voice suddenly cut the thick tension that settled in the air, "Kaz Brekker, Ravka seeks your help." Her hand holding a letter out to him. A scowl covered Kaz's face, he snatched the letter off Zoya's hand, "We aren't patriots," he said grimly, his eyes meeting Zoya's.

"The money isn't the matter, the king will give you your price" She said with certainty.

Kaz hummed in response, his eyes reading the letter and then it met yours again. Oh those eyes, how you had longed to see them, Kaz's brown eyes were something you'd never forget. You couldn't even if you had tried. His eyes were the shade of brown you saw everyday in your morning coffee, you saw his eyes in the dark leather bound books, you saw his eyes in pieces of dark chocolate. For you he was everywhere- he was in the game of cards you saw younger Grisha playing, he was in the snarky remarks passed around, but more importantly, he was always in your heart.

"Leave." he said now looking at Zoya, "we will discuss about this in a moment." His voice sounded bitter.

Zoya hesitated, her eyes followed yours and she gave you a nod, "Fine, but just a moment", she uttered, leaving and slamming the door shut.

"Kaz," You called out, this time louder. Your voice held desperation in it, it was soft yet tense- you wanted to hold him, you wanted to touch him and try to make up the lost time, you took a step closer to him, "i missed you" you said, your hand fiddling with your necklace.

Kaz's eyes followed your hand, he was surprised to find out you still had the necklace with you, "Three years." he spoke, his voice softer now, "it's been three fucking years." you could see his walls slowly breaking down, his eyes becoming softer, the grip on his cane becoming weaker. "I wondered if you had died", his voice quivered slightly, his eyes glossier.

Another step forward, "How could i die without seeing you?", you said, humor in your voice, "Kaz, are you okay? is everything okay?" you asked, your face held a look of melancholy, your lips pursed.

"You look different," Kaz said, ignoring your question, "you look beautiful." he said slowly, a small smile playing on his lips.

you could feel the tears in your eyes, you smiled at him, a soft giggle left your lips, "Thank you, but that still doesn't answer my question, are you okay?"

"I missed your laugh" he said, "i missed you." This time Kaz took a step towards you, his gloved hands tensed a little. "You still have the necklace." he remarked.

You nodded, "how could i not carry a piece of the real you with me always?"

Kaz looked down, his hand tracing patterns on his cane, "I hated being away from you" he admitted, "i-" he took a breath, his eyes meeting yours, the look on his face made you want to cry, you could feel your eyes filling up with tears again, "I needed you" he said, your name leaving his lips, another breath in, "I wanted you".

You tilted your head slightly, your hands wiping the few tears on your cheek, "I am sorry,"

"It wasn't your fault." he said quickly.

"You have me now, if you still want me." you said, your voice slow, "after this, this war is over I'll stay here in Ketterdam, if you want me too"

Kaz's face looked like that of a young boy again, he was changed in the way he was now, he was dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel, he was someone people feared- but right now, in this moment, he was Kaz Rietveld again.

"I will always want you." He said slowly, his hand reached out for yours, it tensed a little.

"Kaz you don't have too-"

"I want you to stay." He said, his hand relaxing in yours, "i want you." He gently squeezed your hand.

"Then you'll have me" you said smiling, "you will have me Kaz Rietveld."