#kaz: i will kill us both

[zaritarazi]

hanne (trying to recall a fun childhood story): did you tell them about the zipline

matthias: i did tell them about the zipline

jesper: he told us about the zipline

hanne: then why do you all look so upset

wylan: sorry, to clarify, are you referencing the zipline designed to kill children?

hanne and matthias at the same time, still not sure why people don't think that the zipline story is funny: yes

nina, walking back into the room after getting a glass of water: why does everyone suddenly look so concerned did matthias bring up his childhood summer camp's illegal fucking zipline again

[lesbiansanemi]

Anyways ignoring that last post I HAVE been outlining the league of villains fic the past few days and it’s making me excited to work on it like I honestly didn’t even realize the insane amount of parallels between Shigaraki and Eri until I started working on this and I’m so shocked more people don’t talk about them….

[yuribalisms]

Working a job that is literally more focused on making employees miserable than actual productivity is a special circle of infuriating hell

[spider-stark]

A BOY'S FIRST PEST

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - Kaz Brekker thinks Per Haskell's daughter is a (very lovely) pest

Warnings - fem!reader, traumatraumatrauma, the woes of troubled youth, light mentions of blood and death, these bitches trauma bonded yo, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED WE DIE LIKE MEN

Word Count - 2.0k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Everyone knows Kaz Brekker put his own money into fixing up the Slat. 

He hired men to patch the leaky roof (though it still drips during a heavy rain) and put proper insulation in the walls (which keeps the house warm enough, even if it does nothing to muffle the noise of its occupants). He had all the doors fitted with working knobs (but easily picked locks) and ensured the kitchen was capable of making a warm meal (even if seriously doubted any of the Dregs knew how to cook). 

And while he would never admit it aloud, Kaz was also the one who made sure there were always clean linens in every room (albeit the cheapest Ketterdam has to offer) and spare clothes in every closet (sizes ranging from wafer-thin to barrel-chested). In keeping, he also takes it upon himself to keep the bathing room stocked with a steady supply of toiletries (because if someone uses his toothbrush again, he’s going to kill everyone in this place and then himself). 

Because of Kaz Brekker, the Slat was more than just a safe place to hole up. It was a haven, the closest thing many of the Dregs had to a home. 

But it did, of course, have one enduring problem. 

The pests.

Or, namely, the one pest—one that he could never quite exterminate (though the spider privy to the inner-workings of Kaz Brekker’s mind might argue the merit of replacing ‘could never’ with ‘would never’). 

Per Haskell’s very annoying (and very lovely) daughter. 

In the midst of Ketterdam’s hottest season, you find yourself lying sprawled on your back atop the dark sheets, clad in the skimpiest nightclothes you own: a matching set of black silk shorts and flowy, thin-strapped camisole. The air is thick and near stifling in the attic-bedroom, but you don’t mind it. You prefer being hot to cold, if only because the heavy weight of winter clothes makes you feel trapped, eliciting the urge to crawl straight from your skin. 

When the door finally swings open, you eagerly push up onto your elbows. 

Kaz doesn’t so much as spare a glance in your direction. He’s got one hand on his cane, the other shoving the door shut behind him as he limps toward his desk, guided by the bright moonlight spilling in from the muggy window. 

Your shoulders slump, huffing out a breath. “Seriously? You’re not even gonna greet me?” 

With his back turned to you, Kaz removes his hat and places it on the desk. He doesn’t look at you. “You’re in my room.” 

“Yeah—so I was actually thinking something more along the lines of hello,” you drone, lips pursed. “Y’know, that thing normal people say when they see their friends.” 

“We’re not friends.” 

A hand flies to your chest, as if struck by his words. “Um, ouch? Rude. For your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

Kaz tugs off his signature gloves and tosses them next to his hat. “I can always repeat it,” he says, so impassive you can’t tell if it’s a joke. 

Knowing Kaz, you’re pretty sure it’s not. 

You push up the rest of the way, scooting down to sit cross-legged at the end of his bed. It’s so much nicer than yours—the sheets softer, the mattress plusher, the smell so familiar and warm. 

If it were up to you, you’d sleep in here every night. 

And most nights, that’s exactly what you do. 

“Would it kill you to be nice sometimes?” you ask. 

“Not usually, no.” Kaz faces you, his weight leaned back against the desk, his cane propped against it. “But we both know you’re a special case.” 

“Is that a compliment?” 

“Not at all.” 

Your bottom lip juts into a pout. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?” 

Aside from the subtlest lift of his brows, Kaz’s expression remains vague and disinterested. “Regularly,” he deadpans, looking the image of austere melancholy. 

Your laugh comes so sudden it sounds like a snort. “I should’ve guessed,” you nod, forever unphased by Kaz’s forbidding attitude. 

This is the way things have always been between you. Ever since a surly twelve year old marched head-high into your father’s office to see if the Dregs needed a new grunt, oblivious to the girl beaming up at him from a lonely corner, weaving colorful scraps of thread into bracelets for the friends you’d yet to make. 

Kaz Brekker is dark and foreboding while you’re bright and bubbly; he’s rude and standoffish while you’re sweet and flirtatious. Some may liken your relationship to oil and water, but you prefer thinking of it as a carefully crafted balance—a yin and yang sort of thing. 

Kaz, on the other hand, would simply say you’re a thorn in his side. 

Fortunately for yourself, you’re not an easily offended thorn. 

The rickety floorboards creak as Kaz starts around the desk. His bare fingers trail along the varnished edge for support. His limp is always at its worst by this time of night, so you’re not surprised to see the flicker of relief that slips over him when he finally sinks into the chair. 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you work too hard?” Your voice teeters on the edge of concern, tracing idle shapes against the sheets with your nails. 

His answer is curt, and contradictory to the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “No.” 

Fumbling with his cufflinks—simple, unadorned things—Kaz rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Afterwards, he flips open the thick ledger laid before him, plucking up a pen and dipping it into an awaiting pot of ink. 

Kaz keeps track of the Dregs expenses in his head—a skill you’ve always found most impressive, since you can hardly do a simple equation without scratch paper. Still, he keeps the physical record for the sake of having something to point to in case someone’s ever stupid enough to claim Dirtyhands flubbed the numbers. 

As he works, boredom quickly becomes a chip on your shoulder. 

Your legs unfurl, bare feet stretching toward the floor as you slip off the edge of the bed. Every step is purposeful, traipsing toward him with a look that’s not so unlike a cat readying to toy with its favorite mouse. 

“Maybe we should take a holiday,” you suggest, your voice a soft trill. 

One part of you expects to be ignored, the other to be shot down. 

He lands somewhere in the middle. 

“And go where? His eyes remain focused on the ledger, dark brows drawn tight in concentration. You envision numbers flashing before him, adding and subtracting at the steady pass of the nib scratching against parchment. 

“I don’t know. Ravka, maybe?” 

“Ravka?” It’s like the word tastes sour on his tongue. “Why?” 

You stop just short of his desk, an answer instantly rapping at your mind. You quickly replace it with one that’s far less tragic. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Nikolai Lantsov with my own eyes,” you drawl. “Nina says he’s quite the looker, y’know.” 

Kaz sits up a little straighter, shoulders pinned with newfound tension. 

“Of course he is.” He seems to press the nib down harder, his disinterested tone bordering close to resentful. “He’s a prince—looking pretty is all they’re good for.” 

Your head tilts. “Well, he’s actually a king now, so…” 

There’s the briefest falter in the smooth motion of his jotting wrist. “I’m not taking you to Ravka so you can seduce the Lantsov bastard.” 

“And why not?” You reach for the tip of his cane, still propped against the desk, skimming a finger over the crow’s head. “You think I can’t do it?” 

The pen keeps on scratching, accented by the dull hum of the Slat’s perpetual motion—doors slamming, voices cackling. Your ego grows larger for every second Kaz stays silent, your satisfaction settling into a feline smirk. 

Simply, yet firmly, Kaz eventually maintains, “We’re not going to Ravka.” 

Your exhale is something over dramatic, laden with feigned disappointment as you huff, “Fine!” Kaz never looks up, continuing with the ledger. 

Abandoning the crow’s head, you swipe one of Kaz’s abandoned gloves off the desk, fiddling with the smooth leather. Still recovering from their civil war, you imagine Ravka isn’t an ideal travel spot right now, anyway. Not unless someone has a morbid desire to tour the sites where Saints met their often-grisly ends, that is… Besides, for all Nina’s praise of the Lantsov king, you’ve never actually had a thing for blondes. 

And yet— 

“I really would like to go someday.” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your other answer—tragic and rapping—crawls up your throat in a hoarse admission, “My mother was Ravkan.” 

That persistent scratching finally comes to a sudden halt. 

For the first time since he entered the room, Kaz looks up. There’s not a hint of pity in his eyes, though they gleam with solemn understanding. Your lips thin, pressing his glove tight to your chest. 

In the winter of your fourteen birthday, you snuck into your father’s office and stole a full bottle of kvas. Dressed in clothes too light for the frigid weather, you sped up the crooked stairs to Kaz’s attic-bedroom, pleading until he begrudgingly agreed to join you on the moonlit roof. For a boy who claimed such an aversion to you, he was always doing things you asked—even if he’d griped the whole time. You both gagged after the first sip of hard liquor. After an hour or so, the full bottle had dwindled to just a drop, your tongues seeming to move with more freedom. 

Neither of you had been prepared for the way the carbonated joy in your chests fizzled to something stagnant. 

I don’t like being alone, you told him, fiddling with the frayed strings tied around your wrist, the friendship bracelets no one ever wanted. If I’m alone, it means I’m thinking, and if I’m thinking, it means my mother won’t stop dying. 

You told him of the endless montage in your head. How at six years old, a walk along the Stave in your favorite winter coat ended with getting crushed beneath the weight of your mother’s last act of devotion, shielded by a body crumpled and crimson, shorn in the crossfire of unexpected gang violence. When you fell silent, Kaz drained the last drop of kvas and told you about a coffee shop near the Exchange. About a sickboat and a boy named Jordie, about a frosty harbor and an impossible swim that left him unable to bear the touch of another’s skin. 

When neither of you had any soul left to bear, Kaz chucked the bottle off the roof. You don’t remember hearing it shatter, and maybe it never did. Maybe it hit some hapless pigeon and fractured his skull. Maybe it ceased to exist the moment it went over the edge. The bottle didn’t matter. Not to you. Not when Kaz Brekker reached for your wrist, leather-clad fingers gently tugging the bracelets off your wrist. 

Don’t make a thing of this, he told you, stuffing them in his pocket. You’re still a pest.

But it was a thing. A strange, beautiful thing—and both of you knew it. 

“Fine.” Kaz’s voice—the rasp of stone on stone—drags you back to the present. He sits the pen down beside the ledger, a strand of black hair swaying with the subtle shake of his head. “We’ll go to Ravka. You’ll seduce some sorry prince and live happily ever after in a gaudy palace. I’ll make my fortune snagging the Lantsov Emerald and use it to hire a proper bookkeeper. Deal?” 

Your lips twitch, still hugging his glove to your chest. “King,” you correct him. 

His eyes roll, but a flicker of something warm betrays his affection. “Pest,” he calls you, though it doesn’t sound like much of an insult. 

“I imagine the Grand Palace has fine exterminators,” you muse. 

“Then I suppose your marriage will be short-lived.” 

“Will you save me, then?” Your heart leaps with the question, how it slips from your tongue before you can grasp it. 

Kaz hesitates. Then—remarkably—smiles. 

“Maybe.”

a/n - you know what they say. a bottle of kvas is never just a bottle of kvas, amirite

(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

anyways, i was procrastinating an essay and thought "lets write something with a somewhat ambiguous ending!" and voila, a boy's first pest is the product. now everyone say: lainie, go work on your original writing and stop writing so much fan fiction! (but i'm already thinking of a kaz smut drabble so) anyways, comments and reblogs much appreciated, i cry with joy every time someone actively interacts with my work so THANK YOU

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Some randomly assorted six of crows headcanons/thoughts/theories/idk

(feel free to agree/disagree/add your own to the list)

I think this is a pretty popular one but that Baghra survived the Grisha trilogy and was the blind Grisha amplifier being held captive at the Ice Court

Kaz is everything that Van Eck wanted in his child and that’s why he and Wylan bother him so much more than the other Crows (I have a whole essay on Kaz & Wylan parallels if anyone wants to read it)

Matthias’ mother and/or baby sister were Grisha and he didn’t know, and that they were actually killed by Drüskelle during the skirmish and Brum told him it was Infernis as part of his manipulation (this is not mine originally but I’ve seen it a lot so I don’t know who first said it, sorry)

Cornellus Smeet’s wife is brunette

I don’t necessarily think that Alys’ child is Bajan’s, though I have wondered this in the past and wondered what Wylan’s reaction might be if the kid weren’t actually his sibling, but I do think they were in or prepared for a secret relationship and that he would happily help her raise the baby as though it were his own

Mentioned this is a post recently but I think it’s possible that the reason Wylan has so few memories of his mother but such clear memories of being 8, and even younger, and going on all of the trips abroad with his father (Ice Court, Elling, Novyi Zem, Shu oil fields, etc) is because whenever Marya stood up to Van Eck, either in defense of her herself or Wylan, Van Eck would punish her by separating her from Wylan and Wylan was too young to know that was happening

I think that if Van Eck won and Kuwei went back to the Ice Court after Crooked Kingdom that the Kerch would have formed an alliance with the Fjerdans. I think they would have been able to successfully move through Ravka and I think that the Shu Han would have then declared war against them both. I also think that it’s possible Novyi Zem would ally themselves with the Shu and it would lead to a WW1 scale event. I have my reasons for this and I have a fic on ao3 exploring the idea and following the Crows in the potential aftermath (Our Gods Have Abandoned Us), but I also think it would be a really interesting discussion to get going I would love to hear other thoughts on it as well

[heliads]

'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things:  either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him:  he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top. 

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily. 

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. “Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer. 

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[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!!!)

[crazerk]

I just finished the game, and it’s absolutely amazing! The premise’s got so much potential; with its complex political plot, fascinating world-building, gender disparities, diverse origins that truly shape the protagonist’s story, and even the option to choose the kind of beauty your character has!

Could we get a sneak peek of MC’s first meeting with Kaz? Please! Just a tiny one!

Also, I’m super curious about Captive MC...how would her children process having a mom with such a tragic backstory? The captive origin is easily the most intense. Her whole family was killed, she was imprisoned, and then sold. Would they think about everything she went through? I'm especially curious about the reactions of her two sons. After all, it seems more predictable to guess what the daughter might think

All I can tell you about MC’s meeting with Kaz is that it’s going to be wet 🤫

In regards to the other part, their reactions will largely differ cause their personalities and perspectives are stark opposites almost. I enjoyed imagining the boys reactions so much I had to write it out. Snip under the cut! (By the way Arman and Cyrus are my headcanon names for MC’s sons. In my mind Kaz named them after his brother and grandfather. You can name them in the story!)

The garden air was thick with the scent of roses and the sound of clashing sticks as Arman reenacted the Battle of Seven Rivers, using a fallen branch as his sword. His cheeks were flushed with excitement, dark hair falling in his eyes as he spun and thrust, fighting imaginary enemies.

"And then Shah Saminsar charged through the river!" He splashed through one of the decorative pools, much to your quiet amusement. "The enemy never expected anyone to cross in full armor! But grandfather's grandfather wasn't afraid of anything!"

Cyrus sat cross-legged on a marble bench, watching his brother's performance with a mix of envy and disdain. He'd tried playing these games before, but he always ended up winded and coughing and he disliked how it made you worry. Better to watch and remember the details Arman invariably got wrong, he thought.

"That's not how the story goes," he pointed out. "The chronicles say he had special boats made of—"

"You're ruining it!" Arman brandished his stick-sword. "Besides, my way is better. More exciting." He paused mid-thrust, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

"What about your father, Mother?" Arman asked suddenly, his expression bright with curiosity. "Did he fight in any great battles? Did he fight Shah Saminsar?"

The question hung in the air like suspended glass, fragile and dangerous. Your hands stilled in their embroidery as memories you usually kept carefully locked away began to surface.

"My father," you began slowly, "was a potter. He made the most beautiful vases you've ever seen, with designs so delicate they looked like they might float off the clay."

Both boys were watching you now, sensing something significant in your tone.

"What happened to him?" Cyrus asked softly, his keen eyes studying your face.

You took a deep breath. They were old enough now, you decided. They deserved to know. "He died when raiders came to our village.a"

Arman let the branch-sword fall, his playful demeanor vanishing. "Raiders?"

"They came at dawn," you continued, voice distant with memory. "I remember the smell of smoke, the screaming... My father tried to protect us, but..." you swallowed hard. "They killed the men who resisted. They took the rest of us as captives. I was brought to the capital and sold as a slave."

Silence fell heavily in the gardens.

"A slave?" Arman's voice cracked. "But... but that's impossible! You're not... you're not like them!" His mind flashed to the laborers he'd seen in the streets, bent and dirty and broken. Nothing like his beautiful mother who smelled of roses and knew how to make even the shah smile.

Cyrus said nothing, but his mind was racing, pieces falling into place like tiles in a mosaic. The whispers he sometimes caught in corners, the way certain nobles looked at them when they thought no one was watching. Slave blood, they said. His fingers clenched in his lap.

"Is that why the other consorts look down on us?" Cyrus asked.

"Cyrus," Arman protested, but you held up a hand.

"Yes," you admitted. "Many believe that common blood taints the royal line. That I was unworthy to bear the shah's children."

"They're wrong!" Arman declared fiercely, jumping to his feet. "You're worth ten of them! A hundred!" Cyrus nodded in agreement.

"It doesn't matter what they think," Cyrus said quietly, though his eyes blazed with a cold fury that reminded you startlingly of his father. "We are who we are. The blood of kings and the blood of craftsmen - perhaps that makes us stronger than either alone."

You felt tears prick at your eyes as you looked at your sons. They were taking this better than you had dared to hope.

"Does it..." Cyrus hesitated, then continued, "Does it hurt very much? To remember?"

"Sometimes."

"Don't cry, Mother!" Arman rushed to your side, nearly tripping over his own feet in his distress. "I'll kill them! I'll kill all of them who hurt you! When I'm bigger, I'll—"

Your tears turned to choked laughter as you caught him in your arms. "My fierce protector. Always ready to fight the world's wrongs with your sword."

"It's not funny!" Arman's own eyes were wet now. "They hurt you! They took you from your family!"

"If they hadn't," Cyrus said suddenly, his voice very small, "we wouldn't exist."

You reached out your other arm and Cyrus came to you, burying his face in your shoulder. You held them both close, these sons of hers who carried the blood of slaves and shahs in their veins.

"Listen to me, both of you," you said softly. "What happened to me was wrong. But it did not make me less. Remember that – no matter what anyone whispers, no matter what names they call you behind closed doors. You are the sons of my strength, not my shame."

Arman nodded fiercely against your chest. But Cyrus pulled back slightly, his young face troubled.

"Is that why I'm not strong like Arman?" he asked. "Because of... because we're..."

"No." Your voice turned sharp. "You are exactly who you were meant to be. Both of you."

The revelation would shape them in different ways as they grew. Arman threw himself into his martial training with renewed fury, determined to become strong enough that no one would ever dare hurt his family again. Cyrus retreated further into his books and scrolls, but now he sought out different kinds of knowledge. He learned about power – how to get it, how to keep it, how to use it like a knife in the dark. He collected secrets the way their grandfather had collected clay, shaping them into weapons far deadlier than any sword.

[jacaeryslover]

FEELINGS: a finnick odair one-shot.

after winning the games, you thought life would be different, and it was. but not how you imagined it would be, life didn't get easier, but it did get more bearable in its own twisted way.

"honey, no one ever wins the games, not really" kaz—your mentor— said to you once, while holding a cup of fine aged wine in his slim but calloused hands, "someone in the capitol will always find a way to make your life harder, get used to it" he coldly said, while lifting the maroon liquid up to his dry lips, soaking them and leaving an almost unnoticeable red tint to them in the process.

remembering was the hardest part—the atrocities you commited and watched, haunted your every breath—reliving them even in your dreams, dreams that turned into haunting nightmares. but you did missed something. not everything was bad, not everyone.

finnick odair, one of the mentors from district 4, the one who gave you advices when you most needed them, the one who held you while you were crying, and the boy who loved you more than anything.

but it wasn't always like that, finnick hated you at first—and you knew that, but the reason? only he knows—a loathing so big that even himself didn't know how to explain.

"look sweetheart, you won. congratulations, now if you excuse me" he said bitterly while stepping forward, wanting to leave. "why do you hate me so much? i didn't do anything to you" you answered, your tone giving away your hurt.

"exactly, and you still won. now go and smile for the citizens of the capitol who love you so much, you don't want them on their bad side"

you thought that maybe—as a mentor—he got close with one of the kids you had to kill in order to win the 67th hunger games, and that was the reason of his hatred. you weren't so sure, and you never asked.

long story short, you grew on him. you were always the one to start conversations with him almost every year, the both of you being mentors made it easy, you had something to talk about. and just like that, one day his loathing became friendship, and that friendship became something much stronger, more real. love.

he didn't know when, or how. but he was grateful that you didn't give up on trying to make him your friend, for he would've missed the way you touched him, the way you looked at him—with so much love, so much passion—that he thought he didn't deserved.

and he wished you knew how much you meant for him, he would do anything in his power to keep you safe, to keep you happy. that's why when the quarter quell came, he hoped your name wouldn't be called. he hoped you could stay in the comfort of your house in district 10, he didn't want you to live this hell for a second time. but he couldn't do anything to stop it if that happened.

and just as he feared, your name was called, and you knew you probably wouldn't survive this, but you were happy you could live your last minutes alongside the man you loved so much, he had better chances than you, so it wasn't hard for you when you decided you would give your life to see finnick as the victor from the quarter quell.

no one knew someone already decided that it was time for a change, a change of power.

[is-today-tomorrow-in-nz]

the darkling had a lot of repetitive phrases he used when he was manipulating people. this has been said before, but he says “you and i are going to change the world.” a LOT. like bro please get a new line we’re all tired of your bullshit he also uses the argument of grisha aging against people. he points out to alina that she’ll outlive mal, and points out to nikolai that zoya will outlive him. in both of these situations, he wanted the couples separated. he kept scaring them by making them think of losing each other. and idk i think that’s interesting.

i didn’t even like darklina in the beginning of the first book 1) age difference(he states he super old at the start, the worst part is he’s MUCH older than the age he lies about)2) he was being all mysterious and vague about how the little palace and grisha fit into alina’s life3) he seemed to be avoiding confrontation from alina when she asked him questions. ik that’s mostly because he was lying out of his ass but he was still leaving alina guessing pointlessly in the dark and let alina feel like an outsider. he was giving ALL the red flags even at the very start . But seriously, the two interacted a tiny bit in the first book (and that ended with him stealing her power and taking ownership of her), barely at all in the second, (and even that was just a whole lot of the Darkling being a creep and stalking on her, giving her mental trauma) and a tiny bit more in the third. (In which the Darkling killed several of her loved ones, destroyed her childhood home, and in turn, Alina killed him)

Just wanna say I'm not Anti darklina. I just want to khnow what do you think about this stupid fans :)))

Before I start, I want you to know that I'm staunchly anti-darklina and not for the reasons you think.

I hate Alina as a character and I believe the Darkling deserves a better partner than that village idiot. So don't expect any sympathies from me for her or for her 'trauma'. S&B is a chosen one trope and Alina is a stagnant protagonist. She had no thoughts beside Mal for THREE WHOLE BOOKS. And before you pile on me screaming, 'She's a teenager!', I'd like to point out that so was Katniss, Harry, Hermione, Percy and several other YA protagonists and they all did remarkably well in their quests. Where as Alina is a boring, judgmental and doormat of a character with air between her ears. So no, she's not going to receive any grace from me.

Now repeating phrases is a crime? Did Nikolai not have one? or did you forget about 'When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable.' or 'I love it when you quote me.'. I believe even Kaz had one. Somehow it's just a problem when the Darkling does it; that too he did like TWICE and to two people.

Besides, this whole, Zoya was also conveniently manipulated by the evil villain and was a victim too, was one of the most BS thing LB had ever written. And please, don't pretend like LB doesn't retcon her own stories. Eg. Genya's power was so rare in Book 1 that no one could do what she does till LB needed someone to disguise Nikolai. Suddenly, the Bataar twins could do it too. And by Six of Crows, even a poorly trained, fresh out of school Nina could tailor anybody like a piece of cake(not talking about the parem!Nina). Yeah, that's how much she retcons. So I'm no way believing that suddenly Zoya became so special to the Darkling that he said 'You and I are going to change the world'. Aleksander was like 500-700 years old and for an immortal like him, Zoyas were a dime and a dozen.

Zoya was the result of LB shooting her own foot by writing a stagnant character like Alina. So once LB got rid of her, she needed a new character every bit opposite to Alina-a confident girl boss who makes grown men quiver and yet every man would fall at her feet and bend over backwards to accommodate her. And voila! Zoya was born with the perfect amount of toxic girlboss energy and temper to bring down storms. Plus don't you think Zoya's entire character backstory is copy paste of Danny from GoT?

Anyways, coming back. When Aleksander was pointing out the mortality of their relationships, he was telling the truth. So is he supposed to just sugar coat things to the people who destroyed everything he built? Is he supposed to be nice to them? You seem to have a problem when he hides the truth and also have a problem when he tells them. So…

Coming to your other points;

1) Age difference - In real life, I strongly condemn it. But in this case, it's not like he was asking for it. Sure, Aleksander would love to have age appropriate relationships with someone mature enough to understood the struggles of Grisha. However, he can't because THEY'RE ALL DEAD, unlike him. So what is an immortal being supposed to do? Remain celibate for the rest of eternity?

2)I don't know how old you are but I'm going to assume you're working individual. So every time you have new coworker in your office, you'll spill out all your secrets to them right off the bat? Do you confess your sins and desires to them? Seek their forgiveness? Or beg for their acceptance?

See how silly it sounds? You're holding Aleksander to standard that you, yourself won't practice in real life. Aleksander is not a love sick boy, he's an experienced army general and Alina never earned his trust. You don't even have to look far and wide; Book 1, chapter 5 gives every info you need to know. He told her the reality and as usual it went past her. So no, there were no red flags. Your girl was just that stupid.

And when exactly did he make her feel like an outsider? Please, he never have to gaslight Alina, she can do that all by herself. Besides, did he stop her from training? or mingling with Grisha? Or let other Grisha mistreat her? She never opened her heart enough to actually learn about any Grisha. She even forwent eating at the common table after a few days. Even simple banter like Marie talking in Suli, was offensive and indirect hit on her worthlessness in Alina's eyes. And when she asked Genya to eat with her and Genya tried to explain why she can't, Alina's response was, 'I'm not going to weep into my soup.' She thought they were all mocking her. So how exactly Aleksander play in role into making her feel insecure? She had a major main character syndrome and was in a perpetual state of victimhood. Whatever she felt, I assure you, she did it herself.

Finally, he did not take ownership of her. He learned that she never could be trusted and used her as a weapon. He had bigger things at stake than an idiot's sensitivities. So he made sure the trigger for her powers lies with him. It's a trolley problem and I agree with what he did. In Book 2&3, Alina was his enemy, in case you missed that bit.

Once again, Aleksander is not a teenage boy. He's an army general fighting an active war. If you cannot understand the ugliness of war then you can never understand him. There's a duality to every great leader. Winston Churchill was a war hero but he also caused one of the greatest famines in India that killed nearly 4 million people. So make of it what you will.

PS: If you're the anon who has been spamming Pro-Darkling bloggers these past two days, then this would be the last time, I'm responding to you. You claim you're not against the Darkling and then bring up the same three talking points like every other anti. So I'd appreciate if you could stick to your side of the fandom. However, if you're not, then this is not directed at you and I was not trying to offend you.

[whosthatfunkyrat]

Chapter 26 of Crooked Kingdom is so well written,

Literally it is a chapter of conflict. And I love that So much. Everything conflicts.

The way Kaz describes things, distance distorting, feeling too far and not far enough.

The way Inej makes him feel, her gentleness making him want to not be gentle.

His thoughts, the conflicting wants.

Helping/destroying

The way she looks at the world in contrast to how he does.

The way Kaz relies on Violence to help heal her. Direct opposites. He’s been so used to being dirty hands that he doesn’t know how to be gentle without relying on the experience of violence to help him.

Also the line “I can best this” in contrast to “he could not do this”

_______

|”creating a gap, feeling both regret and release as he broke contact with her skin”|

(Not pictured bc tumblr pic limit)

Feeling both regret and release when he stops touching her.

_______

| “He secured the knot. 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬. He did not step back.” |

(Not pictured because tumblr pic limit)

Disregarding his own commands.

How the sickness is there, the need to run, but so is the need for something else (alluding to his longing to be close to her)

“Kaz thought he knew the language of pain intimately, but this ache was new.”

“After all she’d endured, he was the weak one.”

How it hurts for him to stand so close to her, but it also hurts to be so far away.

“ 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 he thought wildly”

Despite the pain, he pushes himself close to her.

Him waiting for her to reject him, her accepting him.

His imagination running wild the moment he kisses her. Images of her, alive, well, images of love. Only to be replaced with images of loss, her dead body before him, eyes that were once filled with life replaced with coldness. He feels Disgust and longing twisting in him.

Kaz is always at battle with himself. His wants are constantly conflicting depending on what side of him is talking.

I think the reason the chapter conflicts with itself so much is because this is the first time we see inside Kaz’s head as he directly is confronted by his other self. Kaz Rietveld is the boy who wants to love. Who wants to beg Inej to stay. Who wants to kiss her. It was Rietveld who bent his head to her neck. It was Rietveld who wanted the net. It was Rietveld who took his gloves off. It’s Rietveld who keeps pulling on Brekker’s strings. Loosening him until he gives. Kaz cannot hold off his other self. He cannot hold off who he is deep down. The farm boy who was filled with wonder. Who is 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 filled with wonder every time he looks at Inej.

And what makes this stream of thought horrible- is that when you follow it, everything Rietveld does, everything he Wants, everything he tries- touching her- kissing her-

Every time Kaz tries- Rietveld dies again. In the harbor, with his brother’s body in his hands. Every time Kaz allows his softer side to take hold- he’s brutally murdered again. He drowns. And eventually what’s left standing is Brekker. Cruel and inhumane.

When Kaz kisses her neck, he gives into Rietveld. His mind is flooded with images of love, things he scarcely let himself imagine because he scarcely let himself Be Rietveld. Only when he hears her laugh, sees her smile, looks at her hair, her eyes, does his mind wander to the soft side- the tender side of himself. Only when he’s near Her does he wonder “what happens if I move closer?”.

He kisses her and desire corses through him, love corses through him. But then Rietveld dies at the harbor again. Her body turns into a corpse’s and all the lovely lively things about her die with all the same things in him.

He jumps back, and stops her when she tries to draw nearer. He becomes cruel again. Brekker. He snarls on about who he tortured, who he killed. He see’s her flinch and a pain goes through his heart because beneath the layers of Brekker he’s built atop his heart will Always be Rietveld trying to reach out.

He covers himself in a facade, a mask, layers of clothing, gloves, armor. Layers to protect the boy inside him, still raw and hurt and in need of warmth, in need of love. He has armor in more ways than just his gloves. He builds walls nearly impossible to scale. But Inej is The Wriath, and there is no wall she can’t scale, and no secret she can’t steal.

“Then you can steal my secrets too.”

The hard truth Kaz has to face is that no matter how hard he tries, he will Always Be Rietveld. Deep down he’s not a demon. He’s a human boy. He needs love, companionship, friends.

“Tell Jesper he’s missed… around the slat.”

He cannot face the world alone despite the reputation he builds around the lie that he can. He cannot keep from Loving Inej. No matter how hard he tries, no matter how scarcely he lets himself think about her- he always will eventually wind up thinking about her when he lets his guard down, let’s himself be human, even if it’s for but a moment when her hair is freed from its braid and the sunlight dances through the window behind her. When she laughs. There’s no way, no matter how inhuman he believes himself, he can keep himself from wanting human things to want. Everyone needs love. It doesn’t matter in what capacity you’re talking- everyone NEEDS it. Friendship, romance, companionship, a pet, a kind word from a stranger, opening the door for someone, any of those things- it’s human nature and there’s no avoiding it.

Kaz Brekker Thrives being called a demon. He thrives on the mystery, the myth, the cruelty. He breathes it in because he can’t survive without it. His reputation is quite literally all he has. And his friends are even a result of it. The violence Fuels him. And he’s gotten so reliant on it that he doesn’t know how to be anything else. He doesn’t know how to be anything for anyone unless it involves a scheme, a score, a bit of blood. He quite literally cannot help Inej with her bandages unless he thinks about it as if he were drawing a weapon on someone. Violence was easy.

But the truth is he cannot be Brekker solely.

And he cannot be solely Brekker happily or even contently because he knows Inej will not have him with his armor. So the only option he’s left with is to indulge in Rietveld. To let himself die again and again at that harbor, for her. To use her voice as a tether so that he may not die again. So that she may pull him out of the sea. So that Rietveld can live to give her the love he longs to. He NEEDS Rietveld because he IS Rietveld. And there is no reasoning behind it, no scheme he can concoct to keep his truest self away.

“Dirty hands would have cut his losses and moved on”

But still he says “I would come for you”

Still he reaches out, grabbing Inej’s hand, staying with her, desperately fighting back the waters.

Still, he catches her when she falls, holds her up with worry in his eyes.

Because he’s not JUST Brekker. He’s not JUST dirty hands. He cannot be. No matter how much his hurt self wants him to be. He has to fight to stay alive in the harbor every time he touches her, but he will. Over and over again. For her. For them. He has to.

I’m not suggesting Kaz has some sort of personality disorder or something-

I’m saying I think his past is who Inej sees behind the cruelty. She understands the language of pain intimately, and knows when someone is responding out of pain. I think she sees him for all he is, Brekker and Rietveld, and loves him. He isn’t two people- but one- a very hurt boy who behaves like one, who’s built his life on pain. He conflicts so much with himself because he KNOWS Rietveld was too weak to survive in the barrel. He knows he cannot let himself be too soft. His tell is his love for Inej, and when all that mattered was for him to keep his cool, he looked at her- and Van Eck took her from him. His life is the same story written again and again with a different victim of his love each time- and he’s afraid that should he love anyone, go soft for a second, he’ll lose them. But there’s no way to avoid loving people. There’s no possible way to keep from caring about his friends.

So his only option is to let them have him, have Rietveld.

His only option is to balance both sides of himself, Rietveld and Brekker.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[yandereunsolved]

Platonic Yandere Eli (Liquid Snake) and Tretij (Psycho Mantis) w/ parental soldier darling

Tretij keeps putting them in my mind.

gender neutral darling. (Eli refers to darling as 'mother/momma/mommy' because of his daddy issues.) I am a it/they/he Psycho Mantis truther. I also hc Liquid uses any pronouns. I just write her mostly using he/him for clarity.

tag: @plslovemeforeverandever (more platonic yan Eli w/ Tretij as a plus)

Tretij just floats around, parental darling, soaking in their pain as well as that of their comrades. They aren't sure why they're enamored with you. All they know is that something about your mind soothes them. Your thoughts are... welcomed. They make him smile.

You have a floating ginger accompanying you everywhere. It definitely attracts unwanted attention, which sparks Eli's jealousy. He already has to share momma with Tretij. Now you keep getting weird looks and more interactions with other soldiers because of both of them! It isn't fair.

Eli will stick close to you. He may go as far as hanging off your pant leg, huffing when you politely ask him to get off. He is always carrying some type of weapon to stab someone if they take up too much of your time.

He's also constantly trying to take your attention away from Tretij. He looks up and can tell it knows he's jealous. It loves making him jealous. It will go as far as to manipulate your mind so you forget Eli is near you.

You have to try to have conversations about boundaries with Eli and Tretij. It doesn't go well. Eli ends up choking Tretij while it giggles.

If Eli tells Tretij to stop being mean, then he'll probably listen. They respect Eli enough. But ultimately, your word outweighs Eli's.

If you work under evil polycule, then it'll be... messy.

You are torn between listening to Big Boss and taking care of your newfound children.

Evil polycule wants Tretij banned from Mother Base. It has been seen working with the enemy and compromises their defenses heavily. Then again, considering you can 'control' it, they reluctantly let him stay. No one really likes them, though. Tretij is more than okay with this. You still try to get them to build relationships with people other than Eli and yourself. This leads to it hugging you tightly and crying through their mask.

Eli is just Eli about it. He is violent towards Big Boss and most everyone else at the base. You have to pull him to the side and parent him. He usually doesn't listen to you; however, he does take it into consideration! Baby steps.

It's hard to get them to sit down and do activities that pertain to their age range.

Eli hates reading and can never sit still long enough for you to read aloud. Tretij is more interested in violent horror and thriller books. Those aren't exactly appropriate for the two of them.

Recreational sports never end well. Eli gets too competitive, and Tretij likes keeping the equipment out of his reach.

Card games and board games may go okay. That is, until Eli rage-quits because Tretij is reading his mind and anticipating his moves.

They both like arts n' crafts, oddly enough. Just keep the scissors away from either of them.

Tretij likes making jewelry for the three of you. He makes a bunch of bracelets and necklaces for you (and he expects you to wear them at all times unless it is absolutely necessary that you don't). He likes making earrings, paper crowns, and anklets for Eli. He makes keychains that he can hang off his clothes.

Eli likes drawing. It's mostly him drawing himself killing his father in various situations. You've had to remove the color red from all of the art supplies because he uses it so much. He definitely had a fit about that. He also draws his family: you, him, and Tretij. Thankfully, in those ones, nobody is killing anyone. Sometimes. At least you aren't ever the one being killed!

And when Tretij and Eli draw together... it's disturbing.

"Eli, why are you drawing Big Boss getting eaten by a shark while Kaz and Ocelot drown in a pit of fire? Tretij... is that... the person who flirted with me also getting eaten by another bigger shark?"

You have your hands full with these two.

[fantastic-nonsense]

I love your thoughtful SoC meta! I would love to know your thoughts on Kaz and Jesper’s relationship. Specifically, I adore Kaz but one thing in particular that always seemed so dark to me was that he enabled Jesper’s gambling addiction even though he obviously does care about him. Kaz is obviously willing to do a lot of fucked up things in service of his goals, but this one in particular, toward his own brother figure, I find sad. It’s kind of addressed during their fight at the end of CK but still feels a little unfinished.

I love Kaz and Jesper's relationship. There's sooooo much to dig into there (way too much for a single meta); it's super juicy and complicated, and one of the best complexities of it is that they often enable and feed off of each other's trauma. The pre-canon status quo is a situation where Kaz and Jesper are, in many ways, using and abusing each other as a way of avoiding dealing with their own trauma. It's a fascinating push-and-pull dynamic because neither of them are pushovers and yet neither one is particularly interested in facing their Issues™ head-on, and they both seemingly recognize that in each other and give each other an uncharacteristic amount of grace in helping the other avoid dealing with it.

In Kaz's case, that most often looks like enabling Jesper's gambling addiction and then repeatedly bailing him out of trouble under the justification of "he's loyal and competent, it would be wasteful to let the other gangs kill him." In Jesper's case, this looks like ignoring Kaz's countless and extremely obvious issues in favor of playing the loyal second. Basically, it's not just Kaz enabling Jesper's gambling addiction; it's also Jesper enabling Kaz's unhinged ruthlessness with little pushback other than a few snarky comments.

They also project a lot of their own issues onto each other! Kaz pushes Jesper away in part because he's projecting the grief and blame he feels over Jordie's death onto Jesper, but Jesper is using Kaz's ruthless pragmatism to escape the crippling disappointment of returning home to face his father's judgement for being a college drop-out, gambling addict, and gang member. And Kaz withholds praise and verbal declarations of trust from Jesper because he hates acknowledging that he cares about people, but Jesper uses Kaz's emotional detachment as a crutch to avoid dealing with his own commitment issues by pining after a boy he knows will never reciprocate his advances. This status quo is, of course, insanely unhealthy for both boys long-term, but where would we be if any of the Crows actually dealt with their issues in a healthy way?

That dynamic, imo, is also only possible because Kaz and Jesper have known each other for longer than anyone else in the main crew; Kaz may have let Inej in further, but he let Jesper in first. As far as we know, Jesper is the first person Kaz genuinely lets past his mile-high walls since Jordie died...but he very deliberately holds him at arms' length in a way that he does not with Inej (something that Jesper notices and is jealous about!). Being "the first" in this case unfortunately comes with a lot of baggage, and Kaz and Jesper would both lowkey rather die than talk about how much they care what the other thinks of them.

Kaz clearly didn't recruit Jesper looking for a friend or someone who reminded him of his dead older brother; he recruited him because he saw someone with a useful skillset who he preferred to be at his side rather than in a rival gang or dead in the canals. It's to Jesper's credit that he managed to break through those walls anyway, but there's only so much he can do in the face of Kaz's armor. And like Inej, Kaz's closed-off personality and actions hurt Jesper repeatedly. But he stays anyway, because he (like Inej) sees the boy underneath the mask that Kaz wears and cares a little too much to let him go:

“He wouldn’t—” Jesper stopped short, and then he laughed. “Of course he would.” Jesper flexed his knuckles, concentrated on the lines of his palms. “Kaz is…I don’t know, he’s like nobody else I’ve ever known. He surprises me.” “Yes. Like a hive of bees in your dresser drawer.” Jesper barked a laugh. “Just like that.” “So what are we doing here?” Jesper turned back to the sea, feeling his cheeks heat. “Hoping for honey, I guess. And praying not to get stung.” Inej bumped her shoulder against his. “Then at least we’re both the same kind of stupid.” “I don’t know what your excuse is, Wraith. I’m the one who can never walk away from a bad hand.” She looped her arm in his. “That makes you a rotten gambler, Jesper. But an excellent friend.” “You’re too good for him, you know.” “I know. So are you." -Ch. 17, Six of Crows

Kaz is unused to verbalizing the trust he places in others and actively in denial about how much he cares about them until Crooked Kingdom; he spends his time deliberately being cruel and pushing people away even as he proves over and over again that he doesn't actually want them to leave him. This casual assholery hits those closest to him (Inej and Jesper) the hardest because they are clearly trusted with his life but not with his heart, and that hurts them both.

For Inej, resolving that behavior looks like giving him an ultimatum ("I will have you without armor or I will not have you at all") and telling herself to walk away unless he meets her challenge. For Jesper? That looks like duking it out on top of the Geldrenner when they're both at rock bottom, because of course that's the only way either one of those boys is ever going to verbalize the tension that underlies their relationship. There's just a lot of baggage and mutual toxicity and unsaid words that neither of them are very interested in dealing with until everything comes to a head during the Clocktower fight.

I think we also forget that the Kaz-Jesper dynamic we see in the majority of the duology is not their normal dynamic: it's how they interact when Kaz is mad at Jesper. And a mad Kaz is, within the scope of canon, a pretty cruel Kaz, which is something that I think a good portion of the fandom likes to handwave away in favor of pointing towards Kaz's active attempts to be better in the back half of the duology.

Ultimately we only see the "normal" Kaz-Jesper dynamic for the first 12 or so chapters of Six of Crows (when the Dock Fight/Eyeball Incident happens) and the last few chapters of Crooked Kingdom. Those chapters are a really interesting look into what that relationship looks like when they're on good terms. It's clear that they're good friends, trust each other a hell of a lot, and joke around with each other quite a bit (the "saves ammo" joke in the parley chapter, their interactions during the Hellgate breakout, the "man with a knife!" "man with a gun!" exchange immediately after Kaz throws Oomen overboard, etc), but we also see the stress points: Jesper getting mad at Kaz for not telling him about Big Bolliger's betrayal, Kaz sending Wylan with Jesper during the prep chapters to keep an eye on him, and Jesper's bee and honey conversation with Inej on the Ferolind, for example.

These stress points are what fracture and crack in the aftermath of Jesper accidentally alerting the other gangs that they were headed out on the Ice Court Job and nearly causing Inej's death, and further buckle under the stress and pressure that Kaz and Jesper deal with during the following month and a half: the Ice Court job, Van Eck kidnapping Inej on Vellgeluk, Colm showing up in Ketterdam, and the Sugar Silo/Auction scheme.

In this way, I think Kaz enabling Jesper's gambling addiction is less about Kaz being actively cruel towards someone he sees the ghost of his brother in and punishing Jesper for the sins he percieves Jordie to have made (which is also true, and a meta for a different time!) and more about the weird balance of toxic mutual leniency Kaz and Jesper have allowed the other to provide for them for over two years...and how that leniency breaks down once it's not just Kaz's life or time on the line when Jesper fucks up.

Put more succinctly: for a long time, Kaz and Jesper existed in a toxic balance of enabling each others' worst impulses and behaviors, which was only able to be verbally addressed when they were both at rock bottom, desperate, and seemingly had very little left to lose. This conflict is somewhat addressed and resolved in the conversation where Kaz refuses to give Jesper the last of the parem and offers up a tiny bit of information about Jordie—showcasing his own growth and how he's finally trying to break the cycle by refusing to enable Jesper's self-destructive tendencies—but that level of tension is unable to be properly resolved in one single blowout argument. And I think it's deliberately left a bit unfinished because neither of them are really in a place where they're ready to address everything they've left unsaid for so long, even in the epilogue chapters.

However, we do see the beginnings of that reconcilitaion (Kaz asking Inej to tell Jesper that he's "missed around the Slat") and the story ends on a hopeful note regarding Kaz's commitment to removing his armor, which implies a lot about the resolution of that dangling thread. And of course, we know that by Rule of Wolves they're back to being thick as thieves and fucking around as usual, so clearly they hashed it out at some point in the in-between (and personally? I don't think it took either of them very long after the CK epilogue chapters to do that hashing out).

tl;dr: I love it when two traumatized and emotionally constipated teenage boys use each other to avoid facing their own personal problems and then get into a fistfight to avoid talking about how much they care about each other. Top-tier dynamic. Chef's kiss. I could talk about them for hours.

[kazcreates]

Hunger Games AU

I’m rewatching the Hunger Games, which means you all have to see as I throw yet another HG AU into the world. No, there are not enough already.

Kaz Brekker won his games at 13 years old. He’d volunteered for his brother, Jordie. Jordie had been 17, just about to age out of Reaping age. And yet, his name had been called when those papers were drawn from that stupid glass bowl. Kaz’s name had been in there 53 times, Jordie’s only 10. Despite being the runt of the litter, even in the Barrel District, Kaz had volunteered. And he’d won. He fought like a wild dog, with his nails and teeth. When they pulled him out and crowned him Victor, he’d thought at very least that he’d be going home to his brother. That all of it would have been worth it. He arrived back home to an empty house and an unmarked grave. He’d torn the house to pieces, leaving hardly more than its four walls intact. It had been home for a Victor, and Kaz hadn’t felt like he’d won much of anything. He became a mentor after that, and a good one too. But the Capitol never did quite trust him.

Inej Ghafa won her Games the following year. She was Kaz’s first tribute; although she had not technically been born in his District, her name had been reaped all the same. She had refused to fight, those first few days in the training center. Kaz hadn’t forced her. But he showed her what would happen to her if she chose not to fight. Recordings of the Games were kept for tributes to study, and he had not spared her any detail, had not allowed her to look away from the screen. She agreed to learn how to use a knife after that. She spent most of her Games hiding. Well, maybe that wasn’t the right word. She was not hiding, not out of fear, she was stalking. Tributes would fall with silver knives sticking from their throats, knives that had seemingly come from nowhere. She’d suffered at the hands of the Capitol after being crowned Victor. No one could deny the Capitol their darling.

Jesper Fahey was Kaz’s second tribute. A farm boy with a knack for shooting. There were no guns in the Games, that’d make it too easy, but he could shoot an arrow well enough. Kaz trained him hard, even harder than he’d trained Inej. Because while Inej could rely on her ability to disappear, Jesper was difficult to hide. The Capitol enjoyed his charismatic jokes, which helped Kaz get him enough sponsorships to win him the Games. The life of a Victor didn’t suit him and his father, but the gambling halls kept his mind off the memories.

Nina Zenik was the District One tribute during the following year, which happened to be a Quarter Quell. She was trained to kill since she was a child. They’d supressed her powers before letting her loose in the arena. It would be unfair to put a Grisha against Otkazat'sya. Not that she’d needed luck. A begrudging alliance formed between the careers, just like every other year. But this year was different. This year, the last two standing, regardless of district, would go home Victors. She’d taken a liking to Matthias Helvar, despite the fact that he seemed very keen on betraying her, and was determined to win with him by her side.

Matthias Helvar was the District Two tribute during the Quarter Quell. He’d been trained to leave no survivors, regardless of District. The Quarter Quell would allow two Victors, and he was determined to go home with the second District Two tribute. He didn’t know her, but she was Fjerdan, he didn’t need to know her. Allowing Nina to watch his back, he’d planned to betray her once the numbers had dwindled. He hadn’t calculated falling for the District One tribute. They were both crowned Victor, and became mentors in their respective Districts. Matthias avoided Nina as much as he could, the guilt of losing his district partner to save the life of a Grisha weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Wylan Van Eck was Capitol-born through and through. He had grown up oblivious to the struggles of the Districts. But when he had been deemed a disappointment by his father, he was forced into becoming a stylist for the Games. He worked with the tributes from the Barrel District. As a stylist, he was forced to watch the Games, watch the violence and brutality. He’d watch alongside Kaz as the tributes fell. If the Bastard of the Barrel was feeling particularly charitable, he’d tell Wylan when to close his eyes and avoid the worst of it. He wanted the Games gone, but with a Gamemaker as a father, he didn’t have much of a choice but to do what he was told, unless he wanted to end up in the arena too.

[a-strangers-thoughtss]

Mmmm thinking about Wesper again

Jesper definitely having a crush on Kaz for a little while and then getting together with Wylan,

Wylan… who is heavily paralleled with Kaz throughout both books.

Wylan being incredibly kind and understanding towards him aswell as literally covering for his fuckups and red headed… like his father

Jesper finding someone who can match his crazy while also keep some of his more stupid decisions in check Find someone who can help him regulate his addiction and calm him down when he goes too crazy

Wylan who hasn’t had really anyone pay him an ounce of positive attention in years getting together with someone who litteraly constantly flirts with him and pays attention to him (see Jesper helping Genya give him his face back)

Jesper who never faults him for his dyslexia and instead actively helps him by reading to him

Jesper who pushes him out of his comfort zone and brings out the more adventurous and bold version of himself. Who doesn’t judge him and instead actively encourages him to take up more space.

Uggggg they make me crazy

I love their dynamic so much bc they are so different and similar at the same time

Like they have these little things in common, both have complicated relationships with their parents, both feel like fuckups!!!!

It’s just that they have such different versions of their issues that complement eachother so well (and this goes for Kanej and Helnik aswell)

While Wylans dad is an abusive ass who actively attempts to injure and kill him, Jespers father genuinely loves him and wants to protect him so much that he discourages the use of his powers (the things that could get him killed).

Jespers mother dies when he was young saving a child while Wylans mom’s death is faked when he is young because she is attempting to protect him. (They are both absolutely amazing)

Wylan feels like a fuckup because his father constantly told him how much of one he was for something that was out of his control, and he doesn’t feel useful at all.

Jesper feels like a fuckup because he makes bad decisions and actively puts himself and Colm in danger regardless of the fact that his father wants him to be safe.

Different circumstances, similar feelings

Maybe I’ll go even more in depth into this later, and I’m sure people have pointed these things out before but I just need to say them too bc it’s making me crazy.

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 13) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 8k

notes: can't wait for your opinions on this

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome

@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin

They heard the noise of a commotion, then Y/n’s piercing scream, “It’s at the old lighthouse, Kaz, please help me!”

The phone call ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in the car. 

Kaz stopped in the middle of the road, heart pounding, and made a dangerously illegal U-turn to head toward the lighthouse. 

"Who the fuck was that?" Jesper asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Her ex-boyfriend," Kaz replied tersely.

They arrived at the lighthouse in record time. Both retrieved two guns from a hidden compartment in the back of the car. “Take her out as soon as you can. I’ll handle him,” Kaz instructed, his voice a mix of resolve and anger.

The two made their way up the stairs quickly and quietly, the sound of Y/n’s desperate pleas growing louder. She was trying to buy time, Kaz realized. From the slightly opened door, he tried to assess the situation. Y/n was on the floor, holding her side, but she seemed conscious. Before he could take further action, a gunshot rang out, followed by Y/n's scream of pain.

“Let her go,” Kaz commanded coldly as he barged in. His eyes quickly scanned the place, locking onto Aleksander, who turned to face him with a wild expression. Y/n was clutching her arm, but otherwise appeared fine.

“And who are you? Another one of those idiots she’s got wrapped around her fingers?” Aleksander sneered, his gun still pointed at Y/n.

“Yeah, exactly. Lay the gun on the floor and step away from her,” Kaz demanded, his voice steely.

“I was like you once—madly in love, ready to do anything for her—and she fucking ruined me,” Aleksander spat, his eyes filled with a deranged fury, underlining each word with a wild movement of the gun.

Kaz took a cautious step forward, but Aleksander immediately redirected the gun back to Y/n. “Another step and I kill the bitch.”

“Alex, please,” Y/n’s voice was broken, filled with terror.

“Oh, you always liked to beg, didn’t you?” Aleksander mocked, his attention momentarily shifting back to Y/n. “Begging me to stop, begging me to love you. Pathetic.”

Y/n’s eyes were wide with fear and pain, and Kaz felt a surge of protective anger. “Let her go,” he commanded, trying to keep his voice steady, his eyes locked on Aleksander’s every move.

Aleksander sneered, his gaze flicking back to Kaz. “You think you’re her knight in shining armor? You’re just another fool she’s using. Just wait. She’ll get bored of you too. She’ll chew you up and spit you out, just like she did to me.”

Y/n’s eyes welled up with tears. “Kaz, he’s lying.”

Aleksander laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Oh, is that what she told you? That I’m the liar? That I’m the monster? You think you’re different? Special? You’re not. You’re just the next idiot in line.”

Kaz felt a surge of anger but kept his voice calm. “You’re the one pointing a gun to her. That’s all I need to know.”

Aleksander’s grip on the gun tightened. “You don’t get it, do you? She’s playing you. She played me, made me think I was her world, and then ripped it all away. She’ll do the same to you.”

Y/n’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Please,”

Aleksander’s smile was cruel. “Remember when you used to beg me to stop, Y/n? Those nights when you thought a few tears and a pleading look would make me change? You always were such a naive little thing.”

Kaz’s grip on his concealed weapon tightened. “Enough.”

Aleksander ignored him, his eyes boring into Y/n’s. “Do you remember how you used to cling to me, thinking I was your everything? And look at you now, clinging to him. You never change.”

Y/n flinched at his words, her face contorted in pain. “Kaz, don’t let him—”

Aleksander cut her off, his tone dripping with venom. “Don’t let me what? Tell the truth? You’re scared now, aren’t you? Just like you were then. Scared little Y/n, always needing someone to save her.”

Jesper seized the opportunity with pinpoint accuracy, firing a shot that whizzed past Aleksander’s temple, close enough to scare but not harm him. As Aleksander ducked and cursed, Jesper signaled for Y/n to move. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to Jesper, who guided her down to the car.

Left alone with Aleksander, Kaz’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. 

Kaz made his way back to the car, sliding into the seat next to Y/n, who was still trembling. Jesper was in the driver’s seat, the car already running.

“Kaz, what was that noise?” she asked, wide-eyed and hugging herself.

“Don’t worry, love. It’s over,” he said, gently circling her with his arms. He then turned to Jesper. “Call Rotty. We need plane tickets as soon as possible, dated a few hours ago.” He turned back to Y/n. “Do you have your ID, darling?”

She nodded, still confused. “It’s in my bag. Kaz, what is going on?”

Jesper was already on the phone, arranging things. “... Yes, plane tickets. One for Kaz, and I’m sending you the ID for the other now… a few hours ago, yes. And fake ones for as soon as you can. Kaz, place: hot or cold?”

“Cold. She’s injured. And there’s her car to move.”

“On it.”

“Kaz, talk to me,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “What is going on? What have you done?”

Kaz brushed a stray hair away from her face. “Your ex-boyfriend just fell from the lighthouse. You don’t have an alibi, so I’m making us one. You have to trust me on this.”

Y/n looked too shocked to process what he was saying. Jesper drove quickly but carefully to Kaz’s house. Once inside, Jesper went straight for the computer to finalize the last things.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” Kaz supported Y/n into the bathroom, his grip firm yet gentle. Her gym clothes were stained and torn from the struggle, and he carefully helped her out of them, his eyes scanning her for any more injuries. The bullet had just grazed her arm, leaving a nasty cut but nothing too serious. He grabbed a first aid kit and quickly cleaned the wound, applying a bandage with the precision of someone who had done this many times before.

“You’re lucky,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It could have been much worse.”

Y/n nodded, her eyes glassy with shock and pain. Kaz reached for a washcloth, dampening it with warm water. He gently wiped away the smudged makeup and dirt from her face, his touch tender. She flinched slightly at first but then relaxed into his careful touch.

“Just take a shower. I’ll be right here,” Kaz said, his voice calming. He turned on the water, adjusting it to a comfortable temperature before helping her into the shower. He waited just outside, listening to the sound of the water and her quiet sobs mingling together.

When she emerged, wrapped in a towel and still trembling, Kaz was waiting with one of his shirts. He looked at her with a mixture of concern and determination. “I’ll get you to bed, alright?” he said, gently sliding the shirt over her head. 

As they left the bathroom, the front door opened, and Inej stepped in. “Guys, what happened to you? We were all waiting at the club-” Her voice trailed off as she took in the scene. Jesper was furiously typing and talking on two phones while Kaz was pale and supporting an injured Y/n who was wearing his clothes.

“Nej, what are you doing here?” he whispered, losing a few more shades of color.

“I wanted to surprise you for your birthday… What is going on? Why is she here and what happened to her?” Her voice was a mix of anger and concern.

Y/n looked at Kaz with wide eyes. “Nej, give me a second,” he said firmly, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

Kaz led her to the bedroom, where he carefully pulled back the covers and helped her into bed. He sat beside her, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Try to get some rest,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m scared, Kaz,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“I know,” he replied, his voice steady. “But you’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and fear. “What’s going to happen now?”

“We’ll leave for a few days,” Kaz said, his tone firm and reassuring. “We need to be out of sight until things calm down. I’ve got everything under control. Just try to sleep. I’ll handle everything. Our flight is probably around 5 a.m. We have a lot of time.”

“Kaz, I don’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking.

Kaz cupped her face, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I’ll explain everything, love. You have to trust me.”

Y/n nodded weakly, her body finally starting to relax. Kaz watched her for a moment, making sure she was comfortable before turning to leave the room.

Back in the living room, Inej stood with her arms crossed, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “Kaz, what the hell is going on?”

Kaz took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts. “It’s a long story, Nej. You should sit down.”

She looked at him, confusion and frustration evident in her eyes, but she slowly took a seat on the couch. Kaz began to explain everything that had transpired, from his relationship with Y/n to the events of the evening. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, knowing that each revelation would cut deeper.

As the story unfolded, Inej's eyes went wider and wider. She listened in stunned silence, absorbing every detail.

“You cheated on me, for months,” she finally said, her voice tinged with disbelief and pain. Kaz looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “That’s why I met her at the coffee shop nearby that day. She was coming here. I can’t believe you, Kaz. You, of all people.”

Kaz’s heart ached at her words. “Inej, I never wanted to hurt you.”

She shook her head, her expression a portrait of betrayal and sorrow. “You wanted to break up with me that day. You two were already together.”

“We are not together, Inej,” Kaz insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.

“Oh, sorry then,” Inej said bitterly, her sarcasm cutting deep. “I can’t believe that when I told you about my issues with sex, you ran straight to her.” She stood up, her body trembling with rage.

“Don’t raise your voice, Y/n is probably—”

“Oh, am I being fucking loud?” Inej snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm and hurt. “And I shouldn’t wake the girl you’re having an affair with? While she sleeps in the bed I helped you choose?”

Kaz winced at her words, each one hitting him like a physical blow. “Inej, it’s not like that.”

“Not like that?” she repeated, her eyes flashing with fury. “Then what is it like, Kaz? Explain it to me, because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that. You lied to me. You cheated on me. You betrayed me.”

Kaz struggled to find the right words, feeling his own guilt and regret choking him. “It’s complicated. I never wanted this to happen.”

“Are you in love with her?” Inej’s eyes were filled with tears, her voice breaking as she asked the question.

Kaz thought about it, the truth weighing heavily on his heart. But Inej was still Inej, and he couldn’t keep lying to her. “Yes,” he admitted quietly.

“And you call this complicated?” Inej’s voice was incredulous. “Complicated is an understatement. You didn’t just cheat on me, you fell in love with her. All the while pretending with me, lying to my face every single day.”

“Inej, please—” Kaz began, but she cut him off again, her voice rising.

“Please what, Kaz? Please understand? Please forgive you? How could you do this to me? To us?” Her tears were falling freely now, her hands shaking with the intensity of her emotions.

Kaz leaned back, sighing heavily, feeling the weight of his actions crushing him. “I don’t want to minimize your anger, Nej, but her ex-boyfriend tried to kill her tonight. Stop screaming, please.”

“And I’m very sorry for that,” Inej said, her voice softer but still filled with anger. “But you, you are a cheating lying dirty bastard.”

“Inej, I’m sorry,” Kaz said, his own voice cracking with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Kaz,” she said, wiping her tears angrily. “You’ve destroyed everything. Everything we had, everything we built. Was she worth it? Was she worth throwing everything away?” 

Kaz closed his eyes, pain and regret seeping into every fiber of his being. “It’s not about worth. I didn’t plan this. I didn’t choose for it to happen.”

“I thought we would’ve gotten married, Kaz,” Inej said, her voice trembling. “I thought we had a future together. I thought you were the one.”

Kaz felt a lump form in his throat. He opened his eyes and looked at Inej, seeing the raw hurt and betrayal etched into her features. “Inej, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to destroy what we had.”

“But you did,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You destroyed it all. You broke my heart, Kaz. How could you do this to me?”

Kaz took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted to betray you. But things got complicated. I got caught up in something I didn’t fully understand.”

Inej shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “We could’ve had everything, Kaz. We could’ve had a life together. A future. But you threw it all away. For what?”

Kaz felt the weight of his actions crashing down on him. “I know I ruined everything. I know I hurt you in ways I can never make up for. But Inej, I still care about you. I still want to see you happy.”

“I wanted to marry you,” Inej said, her voice breaking. “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But now…I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Kaz reached out, his hand trembling. “Inej, I’m still me. I made a terrible mistake, and I will regret hurting you for the rest of my life. But Y/n…she’s different. She’s good for me in ways I didn’t expect.”

Inej took a step back, her eyes filled with anguish. “So you don’t regret being with her? After everything?”

Kaz swallowed hard. “I regret hurting you. I regret the way things happened. But Y/n has brought something into my life that I didn’t know I needed. She’s helped me in ways I can’t explain. I didn’t plan for this, but I can’t deny that she’s been good for me.”

Inej looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “You’ve changed, Kaz. And not in the way I hoped. I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”

Kaz met her gaze, seeing the hurt and betrayal reflected there. “Inej, I—”

“No, Kaz,” she interrupted, her voice cold. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m done.”

Inej turned and walked out, leaving Kaz standing in the living room, his heart shattered. The door closed behind her with a finality that echoed through the room, leaving Kaz to face the consequences of his actions. He sat down heavily on the couch, his mind a whirlwind of regret and sorrow. He had made his choices, and now he had to live with them.

“I’m sorry, man,” said Jesper weakly after witnessing the entire scene.

“Thanks, but I totally deserved it,” Kaz replied, his voice heavy with regret. “I should have done this weeks ago.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Jesper agreed. “Tickets are ready. I’ll come back around 4:30 with a car and her fake documents.”

“Thanks, Jes.”

Kaz went to his room, where Y/n was obviously still awake. “I’m sorry about Inej,” she whispered, her eyes reflecting both guilt and sadness.

“Thanks, love,” Kaz replied softly.

With a sigh, he opened the wardrobe and started packing a few things. Y/n watched him quietly, her mind racing with the events of the night. “I don’t have anything,” she observed, her voice small.

“We’ll buy something there. No one can see us now,” he said, his tone firm but reassuring.

“Alright,” she agreed, though the uncertainty lingered in her eyes.

Kaz turned to her, his expression softening. “Can I check your ribs?”

Y/n nodded, shifting against the headboard to make it easier for him. “It’s going to hurt,” he murmured before moving her shirt and gently touching her side. She hissed in pain, her face contorting with discomfort as he tried to assess the extent of the damage.

“Only one is broken, you should be fine in a few weeks,” Kaz said, his fingers lightly tracing the bruises forming on her skin.

Y/n nodded, adjusting herself against the pillows. “I still can’t believe this happened,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kaz sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. “I know it’s a lot, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he replied, squeezing her hand gently. 

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of everything that had transpired pressing down on them. Kaz’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—regret over Inej, worry for Y/n, and the urgent need to keep her safe.

They didn’t manage to get any sleep, and when Jesper arrived with the car, they were already waiting outside. Y/n wore Kaz's only hoodie, the hood pulled low to cover most of her face, while Kaz, leaving his cane behind, tried to mask his limp as best as he could. The drive to the airport was silent, the tension in the car palpable. They arrived just in time for the last call for their flight, minimizing the time spent in the waiting halls.

On the plane, Y/n nestled against Kaz, hiding her bruised face, and slept through the entire flight. When they landed, a car was waiting to take them to a nice apartment in the city center, a temporary refuge from the chaos they had left behind.

"Why don’t you sleep some more? I have a lot of things to do," Kaz said, already setting up his computer on the dining table. Y/n nodded, dragging herself to the bedroom.

Hours later, Y/n reappeared in the doorway. "You look better," Kaz commented, glancing up from his screen with a small smile.

"Who are you, Kaz?" she asked, hugging herself.

"I’m fixing this, Y/n. I’ll explain everything," he replied, his voice steady but soft.

"You killed him," she stated, her voice trembling.

"I did what I had to," he said, seeing the panic rising in her eyes. He got up and walked over to her, cupping her face in his hands, tilting her chin so she had to look at him. "I would never hurt you, Y/n. You have to believe me."

Y/n pressed her lips into a tight line, clearly conflicted. "Now go out," he instructed, sliding his card into her pocket. "First thing, buy some makeup and cover up your bruises. Then go around, buy whatever you want. I need a few hours alone. I don’t want you to hear some things, and I’m sure you want some time to yourself too."

Y/n nodded with a long sigh. "Are you scared I’ll go to the police and talk?" she asked, her eyes let all of her conflicted emotions transpire.

"No," he said without hesitation. "I know you won’t, but whatever happens, it’s better if you know as little as possible."

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Okay," she said finally. She turned to leave but paused at the door. "Kaz?"

"Yes, love?"

"Be careful," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I will," he promised.

As she left, Kaz returned to his computer, his mind already racing with plans and contingencies. He had a lot of work to do to secure their safety, but he was determined to protect her at all costs. 

He worked tirelessly, making calls and sending messages, making people erase them and their cars from all the cameras that they might have encountered during the hours they were supposed to be already on the plane. He was methodical, his mind sharp and focused. But even as he worked, a part of him worried about Y/n, hoping she was safe and would return soon.

Hours passed, and Y/n finally returned, looking exhausted but more composed. "Feel better?" Kaz asked, looking up from his work.

"A bit," she admitted. "Did you get everything done?"

"Almost," he said, shutting his laptop. "We’ll be okay. Go change, we’re going out for dinner.”

Later, at a cozy restaurant, Y/n glanced at the menu, her frustration mounting. "I can’t even understand the fucking menu," she said, throwing it against the table in exasperation.

Kaz, unfazed, caught the attention of a nearby waiter and swiftly changed to the local language, ordering for both of them. Y/n watched him, a mix of awe and confusion in her eyes.

"Kaz, who the fuck are you? I knew your job was shady, but you killed someone and now we are in another country and-”

Kaz leaned back, his expression unreadable. "We’ll have to make it believable. Pictures, tickets for museums—"

The waiter interrupted, placing two large drinks in front of them. Y/n immediately chugged half of hers. "I’m scared of you," she admitted, her eyes locked onto his.

"I know how it looks, but you’re safe with me," Kaz said, his voice firm yet soothing.

"If you say so. Can you get me another one?" she replied, finishing the rest of her drink in one go. "Why do I always put myself in these situations?" she muttered, more to herself than to him.

Kaz signaled the waiter for another round, his eyes never leaving Y/n's. "You didn’t put yourself in this situation. I did. And I’ll get us out of it."

Y/n sighed, resting her head in her hands. "I just… I don’t know what to think anymore. Everything’s moving so fast."

Kaz leaned in, his voice low. "We need to establish our alibi. We’ll visit a few landmarks, take pictures, buy souvenirs. It has to look like we planned this. Jesper’s handling the logistics, but we need to be seen, leave a trail."

Y/n nodded slowly, absorbing the plan. "And after that?"

"The police will question you as soon as they can, so we won’t leave until you’re ready. We need to make sure everything looks airtight."

During dinner, Kaz began to ease her into the reality of his job. He spoke softly, explaining the various aspects of his life she had only glimpsed before.

"I handle a lot of things behind the scenes," he started, picking his words carefully. "We deal with information, leverage, sometimes money. It's not always clean, but it’s necessary."

Y/n listened intently, her eyes never leaving his. "And by 'necessary,' you mean...?"

"I mean that there are people who need protection, people who can’t protect themselves. We make sure they’re safe, that they have what they need. Sometimes it means stepping into dangerous territory."

"Like killing my ex-boyfriend?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kaz’s grip on her hand tightened slightly. "It would, if I did that."

Y/n swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. "Right. It’s a lot to take in."

"I know it is," Kaz replied gently. "And I don’t expect you to be okay with it overnight. But I need you to understand why I do what I do."

She took a deep breath, looking back up at him. "I get it, Kaz. I do. I just... I need time to accept this."

"Take all the time you need," he assured her. 

As they left the restaurant, Kaz wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Do you like this place?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic tenderness.

Y/n looked up at him, a small, hopeful smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, the city is beautiful… I never said thank you for saving me."

Kaz tightened his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "You don't need to thank me, Y/n. I’m just glad you called me. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if something had happened to you."

Y/n’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "But I do need to thank you. You didn’t have to come, to risk everything for me. But you did."

Kaz stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression earnest. "You matter to me, Y/n. More than you know. I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Y/n took a deep breath, searching for his eyes. "I was so fucking scared, Kaz. I have no idea where I found the courage to call you."

Kaz cupped her face in his hands, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I’m really glad you did. I mean, this is not exactly how I imagined our first trip together, but it’ll do."

She gave a small, shaky laugh, the tension easing slightly. "I'm sorry for the breakup too... I'm sorry you couldn't do it on your own terms and in your own time."

Kaz sighed, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. "I should have done it sooner. It was a bomb ready to explode, and I kept delaying it, thinking I could handle everything. But it wasn't fair to anyone—especially not to Inej."

Y/n leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a moment as she absorbed his words. "I know you didn't want to hurt her. Or anyone."

He nodded, his own guilt and regret clear in his eyes. "I never wanted things to turn out this way. Inej deserved better than how I handled things. I was a coward, trying to keep everything balanced."

They settled into the unfamiliar bed as comfortably as Y/n's injuries allowed. Kaz scrolled through movie options while she made calls to reassure her roommates and grandma that she hadn't vanished into thin air.

“Yes, grandma, I'm with Kaz… Yes, I'll say hi… No, we are not eloping… No, we are not!” Y/n's cheeks were flushed, and Kaz couldn't help but snort at her side of the conversation.

“Grandma, I'm not pregnant… No, I'm not passing you to him… Why don't you believe me?” Y/n turned towards Kaz with a defeated look. “She wants to speak with you.”

Kaz sighed and took the phone. “Hello, Alice.���

“So? Are you eloping?” Alice's voice came through, bold and direct.

“Definitely not,” Kaz replied firmly.

“Are you sure? I'll convince her,” Alice continued.

Kaz glanced at Y/n, who mouthed 'friends'. “We are just friends,” he clarified aloud.

“Yeah sure, how do you feel about having children? Like right now.” Alice didn't hold back.

“Seems a bit soon,” Kaz snorted.

“I'm getting old, I want a niece or a nephew, more a niece if I have to choose,” Alice insisted.

“I don't think you and Y/n are on the same page about that,” Kaz said diplomatically.

“That's why I wanted to talk to you! Get to work, boy!” Alice's tone was playful but insistent.

Kaz nervously chuckled. “Alice, we're not even in a relationship.”

“Then explain why suddenly you hop on a plane and go to another country!” Alice pressed on.

“It was my birthday yesterday-” Kaz tried to explain.

“And what does your girlfriend think about this?” Alice questioned.

“We broke up,” Kaz admitted reluctantly.

“Oh, I'm sorry dear. You can cheer yourself up by making me a great grandmother. Bye,” Alice concluded abruptly.

Kaz stared at the phone, puzzled. “What's this thing with children?”

“She's going through a phase, it happens every time her birthday is near, ” Y/n shrugged. “And she thinks you have nice teeth.”

“And that makes me a wonderful candidate to have children with you?” Kaz raised an eyebrow, earning a playful kick from Y/n.

“She said I'm getting old and desperate and that I should settle for everything that comes my way,” Y/n laughed.

“Desperate, yes, I can see it,” Kaz replied, dodging another playful kick, “but old seems a bit much.”

“Thanks,” Y/n chuckled, settling back against the pillows.

“Is it weird? Knowing that you’re not together anymore?” Y/n’s voice broke through the silence, gentle yet probing

Kaz turned his attention back to her, his expression softening as he considered her question. “A lot,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying the weight of years spent with Inej. “We’ve been through so much together, and I was so worried that she could leave me that I never contemplated the thought that I could leave her.”

Y/n listened intently, her eyes reflecting understanding rather than judgment. “You probably think it’s lame,” he chuckled, a hint of self-deprecation coloring his tone.

“No,” she replied softly, shaking her head. “It’s sweet. It shows how much you care about her, even if things didn’t work out.”

Kaz exhaled slowly, grateful for her empathy. “I suppose so.”

Silence settled between them again, neither rushing to fill it. Y/n shifted closer, her presence comforting in the midst of his thoughts. She reached out, her hand finding his and intertwining their fingers gently.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have something like that,” she confessed after a moment, her voice tinged with wistfulness.

Kaz felt a pang of empathy as he listened to her, the weight of her words resonating deeply with him. He squeezed her hand gently, offering silent support as she spoke.

“When I wanted it, it always ended up bad,” she said softly, a sad smile playing on her lips.

Kaz nodded slowly, his mind filling with thoughts of the hurtful words her ex had spat out, and the unseen scars she must have carried from past relationships. He understood now why she was hesitant, why she approached relationships with caution.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Kaz said sincerely, his voice laced with empathy. “No one deserves to be hurt like that.”

Y/n glanced at him, her expression portraying gratitude and vulnerability. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He wanted to tell her again— that he wanted more from her, that he longed for a committed relationship where they could build something together. That he was sure that things would work. But at the same time, he hesitated. He didn't want to scare her away, didn't want to rush her into something she might not be ready for, especially given her past experiences.

Y/n's head nestled against his shoulder, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of his arm. He ran his fingers gently through her hair, savoring the comfort of their intimacy.

"Aren't you clingy today?" he teased lightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Y/n hummed contentedly, her voice muffled against his chest. "How's your rib?" he asked, his concern evident despite the casual tone.

"Hurts like hell," Y/n admitted with a small wince, shifting carefully to find a more comfortable position. "I won't be able to have proper sex for Ghezen knows how long."

Kaz chuckled softly. "Always your first concern," he teased gently, his hand moving to rest on her back in a soothing gesture.

"It's my job, love," Y/n replied with a half-smile.

Y/n nestled closer to Kaz, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. “I’m falling asleep,” Kaz murmured, his voice drowsy and soft as he closed his eyes, resting his head gently on hers.

“Baby, it’s not even 10 pm,” she laughed, the sound light and soothing in the quiet room.

“I didn’t sleep all morning like you,” Kaz replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “And tomorrow, we have an entire city to visit.”

“Yeah? Are we going to be tourists?” she asked, a playful note in her voice.

“Of course,” he whispered, the weight of the past 24 hours starting to lift from his shoulders as sleep began to take over. The stress, the fear, and the tension were slowly fading away, replaced by a sense of calm and contentment.

Y/n sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. “I like the sound of that,” she said softly. 

Kaz hummed in agreement, his breathing evening out as he began to drift off. 

His breathing deepened, his body relaxing completely as he succumbed to the pull of sleep. “Goodnight, love,” he whispered. “Goodnight, Kaz,” she whispered back.

***

Turned out, they had really different visions of what being “tourists” meant. It was 7 am, and Kaz was ready to go. “Y/n, wake up, come on.”

The girl replied with an annoyed hum, “What?”

“It’s 7 am,” he urged.

“Is the police here?” she asked into the pillow.

“No.”

“What do you want from me then?”

“We said we’d visit the city. I made a plan,” Kaz explained with a determined tone.

“Of course you did,” Y/n opened one eye to look at him, the early morning light filtering into the room. “Come back to sleep, come on.”

“But if we get out early, we won’t have to make too many queues,” he insisted, sounding almost excited about his meticulously crafted itinerary.

Y/n rolled onto her back, sighing heavily, “How many points does your plan have?”

“Twenty,” he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What?” she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-despairing at his dedication. 

“I’ll walk you through it while you make breakfast,” he said, undeterred.

“Oh, now I have to make breakfast too,” she said, raising herself onto her elbows, wincing slightly as her ribs protested the movement.

“I ordered groceries,” Kaz said, trying to sound helpful.

“You could have ordered breakfast,” she pointed out, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Kaz paused, lost in thought. “Yeah, I should’ve done that,” he admitted.

Y/n chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,” she said, her tone affectionate despite her exasperation. She slowly swung her legs out of bed, stretching cautiously to avoid aggravating her injuries. “Alright, let’s see this plan of yours. What’s the first stop?” she asked, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

Kaz followed her, a pleased smile on his face. “Buying a cane and a pair of glasses.”

“That sounds really reasonable,” Y/n commented, focusing on making coffee and breakfast. “Is any of your points about sitting in bars, doing shopping…?”

“No, not for the next two days,” Kaz checked his phone to be sure. “Yeah, Tuesday you have a free hour.”

Y/n turned to look at him with wide eyes, sliding a plate toward him. 

Kaz ignored her shocked expression, focused on eating. “Move in with me.”

“You just want someone to fuck you every night and make you breakfast every morning,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Why do you always have to be so vulgar?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“It is,” he admitted with his mouth half full.

“That’s not even a girlfriend thing, Kaz,  you’re going directly for wife-level requests,” Y/n retorted, shaking her head in mock disbelief.

Kaz chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Well, why settle for less when I can aim high?”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you like it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Debatable,” she quipped, pouring coffee into two mugs. “I mean, what’s in it for me?”

“Well, besides the obvious,” Kaz said, giving her a playful wink, “you get the pleasure of my company every day.”

“Oh, joy,” she replied sarcastically, handing him a mug. “Just what I always wanted.”

Kaz took a sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth. “See? I knew you’d come around.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Y/n warned, poking him in the chest. “I haven’t said yes.”

“Yet,” he added, raising an eyebrow.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “Is this your new approach? Tormenting me until I give in?”

“Yep,” Kaz replied with a grin. “Persistence pays off.”

“Oh baby, good luck with that,” y/n leaned to kiss his temple while passing him, “we’re not even dating.” She whispered in his ear before heading to the bathroom.

His gaze followed her around the house, his mind racing. ‘For now,’ he thought, letting a grin spread across his face. He took another bite of his breakfast, savoring the moment. 

Kaz perfectly knew that for most of it they were playing with each other, but the heaviness of all the mistakes he made with Inej were pressing down on him. With her, he wanted to get things right, never make something too soon or too late, too afraid of screwing up. But where did it all lead to? The biggest screw-up ever done. So he kept asking himself why not? Why not make an even bigger mess and see where that brought him and Y/n?

Why not move in together, perfectly aware that it was too soon? In his eyes, the concepts of messy and fun were dangerously blurring together. And then, she told him she loved him, he definitely did not forget that. Might have been really a slip-up, yes, or something totally meaningless, he witnessed firsthand Y/n telling a waiter she loved him, but still, it happened, and he was going to cling to that a bit.

Kaz's thoughts churned as he watched her move around the house. She was wearing her bright new lingerie, the smooth fabric contrasting sharply with the angry bruise on her side. Her hair was a mess of waves, still tousled from sleep, and the sight of her like this, so natural and unguarded, made something in his chest tighten. There was a grace to her movements, even in the midst of her casual morning routine. Each step she took, every small gesture, seemed to echo in the silence of the room, drawing his attention and holding it captive.

She turned towards him, catching him staring. A small, teasing smile played on her lips. “Enjoying the view?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kaz smirked, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to her. “Always,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

He watched her as she moved, captivated by the way the morning light caressed her skin, highlighting the curve of her waist and the gentle sway of her hips. He found himself mesmerized by the way the fabric moved with her, the way her muscles flexed and relaxed with each step. There was something incredibly alluring about her in this state—unfiltered, raw, and absolutely stunning.

“Is there something on your mind?” she asked, her tone playful yet curious.

Kaz shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just appreciating the morning,” he said, his eyes never leaving her.

She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “Sure you are,” she teased, turning back to her tasks. Her laughter was infectious, filling the room with a warmth that made his heart swell. As she moved, her fingers lightly traced the countertop, a gesture that seemed almost absentminded yet was so characteristically her.

“You know, if it wasn’t for my broken rib, I wouldn’t have let you leave the bed,” she added with a playful smirk, casting a glance over her shoulder at him.

Kaz sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes with a smile. “What about my plan?”

She turned fully to face him, leaning against the counter with a sparkle in her eye. “Oh, I would have made a detailed twenty-points-plan,” she laughed, her voice filled with genuine amusement. He chuckled softly, shaking his head at her playful persistence. “Is that so? And what would this plan entail?”

She took a deliberate step closer, her movements fluid and purposeful, closing the distance between them with a teasing glint in her eye. “Well, for starters, it would involve a lot more staying in bed,” she teased, her voice laced with a hint of seduction. Her eyes sparkled as she continued, “Maybe on the couch, and I’m sure there’s at least one point about the kitchen table.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Is that right?”

“Oh, definitely,” she nodded confidently, her gaze growing more intense as she reached for his belt.

“We have to get going, get dressed,” Kaz interjected suddenly, pressing a quick kiss on her forehead before gently moving away. He could feel the warmth of her proximity, making it challenging to think straight. His retreat was as much a practical necessity as it was an attempt to maintain focus on their plans for the day.

Y/n sighed in mock defeat, rolling her eyes playfully. “Fine,” she replied, though a hint of disappointment lingered in her voice.

Despite the playful banter, he knew there was a deeper undercurrent to their relationship. They were teetering on the edge of something significant, something that could either be incredibly rewarding or disastrously painful. But he was ready to take the risk. He had spent too much of his life carefully calculating every move, and for once, he wanted to let go of that control, to embrace the chaos and see where it led them.

***

“Come on, let’s take at least one picture together,” Y/n pleaded for what felt like the millionth time in the last days, her voice tinged with playful persistence.

“No,” Kaz replied, his tone firm yet slightly weary.

“But you said we had to!” she insisted, holding up her phone.

“I don’t like taking pictures,” Kaz muttered, feeling immensely self-conscious under her gaze.

“No one is going to see it, just maybe the police,” she coaxed, trying to reassure him.

“I don’t know what to do in pictures,” he admitted, avoiding her gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Smile,” she shrugged, her lips curling into a gentle smile as she adjusted the phone.

“I don’t smile,” he grumbled.

“You smile, a lot,” she countered, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Kaz sighed, glancing at her phone with an annoyed expression. Just as she aimed to take a selfie, a notification popped up on her screen. ‘When are you coming back? I miss you already’ from someone labeled ‘Cute guy tennis.’ Kaz didn’t miss the message, his jaw tightening slightly. Y/n quickly swiped the notification away, focusing back on the task of taking the picture.

“Still with the tennis guy?” he asked bitterly.

“Apparently,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “we look cute in this one.” She showed him a picture where she was beaming at the camera while he was side-eyeing her with a smirk. Kaz cursed himself internally; did he really go around making that stupid face while looking at her?

“It’s not bad,” he commented, trying to sound indifferent. Another message popped up: ‘We have so many lessons to catch up’

Kaz couldn't help but let the bitterness seep into his voice as he asked, “So, he’s a tennis instructor?”

“Yes, Kaz,” Y/n replied, her tone clipped and clearly annoyed by his persistence.

He glanced away, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Thought you preferred bigger wallets.”

She shot him a sharp look, her irritation evident. “Are you jealous or something? I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to date who I want,” she retorted, crossing her arms defensively. “And for your information, he owns the tennis club.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow, the sarcasm still lingering in his voice. “That’s more like you.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighed, knowing he was treading on thin ice but unable to stop himself. “It means you always seem to go for the ones with status and money. It’s like you have a type.”

She bristled at his comment. “You don’t know anything about my type.”

Kaz met her gaze, his eyes hardening. “Maybe not, but I know enough to see a pattern.”

Y/n took a step closer, her voice rising. “You think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Well, newsflash, Kaz, you don’t.”

He stood his ground, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “I just find it interesting that you always seem to end up with guys who can offer you something more than just a good time.”

She shook her head, disbelief and anger mingling in her expression. “You don’t get to judge me or my choices.”

Kaz felt a pang of guilt at her words but pushed it aside, his pride getting the better of him. “I’m not judging, just observing. You were dating Nikolai Lanstov, when? Like last week?”

Y/N scoffed, her eyes flashing with anger. “Kaz, it was never a secret that I dated multiple people at the same time and that I had no intention of stopping.”

Kaz sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’re single now, sleep around, date who you want,” she said, her annoyance evident in her tone.

He shook his head, frustration mounting. In what language did he have to explain to her that he didn’t want anyone else? “Sure, that’s what I’m going to do as soon as we’re home,” he said harshly, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Great,” she shot back, her voice cold.

“Good,” he replied, his own anger simmering just beneath the surface.

They stood there, the tension between them almost tangible. Kaz clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. He knew he had handled this all wrong, but he didn’t know how to fix it. The jealousy, the frustration, the fear of losing her—it all tangled together, clouding his judgment.

“How many points of your plan do we still have for today?” Y/N asked, still annoyed.

“Five.”

“Then let’s go, Brekker,” she said, taking his hand and leading the way. They kept strolling through parks and museums, their fight quickly forgotten.

“No, wait, don't look. This place is on tomorrow’s plan,” Kaz said seriously, checking his phone.

Y/N laughed at him, her annoyance fading. “Have you ever been relaxed for one moment in your life? Just change the plan.”

Kaz stopped in the middle of crossing the road, causing a small commotion. “You can't just ‘change the plan,’ Y/N.”

“Why not?”

“It shows that you never planned anything in your life.”

Y/N shook her head while people started to honk and yell for them to move. “I just let things happen. Just go with the flow.”

“I tell the flow where to go, so don’t look to your right, and let’s go,” he insisted, pulling her along.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Kaz, you’re the only person I know who can schedule spontaneity.”

“You should see my calendar. It’s got ‘spontaneous moments’ blocked out in 15-minute intervals.”

“Fine, Mr. Control Freak. Lead the way,” Y/N teased, finally relenting.

Kaz smirked. “That’s more like it. Now, let’s get back on track—literally and figuratively.”

As they continued walking, Kaz glanced at his phone. “Okay, we’ve got a 30-second window for a spontaneous laugh starting… now.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “What?”

“See? You’re laughing,” Kaz replied, a grin spreading across his face. He leaned in to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers softly.

“That wasn’t planned,” she smiled against his lips, feeling the warmth of his affection.

“You’ll never know,” he said as he took her hand and continued their itinerary.