#Saints in Kerch

[martinakl13]

I think a lot about what the way they talk can tell us about our Crows. For example, interjections.

Unsurprisingly, Nina and Inej use all variants with Saints (Saints; All Saints; For Saints' sake) and Wylan uses Ghezen (Ghezen; Ghezen and his works). Matthias of course has Djel (Djel; Sweet Djel; For Djel's sake).

Now comes the interesting part. Jesper uses Saints, many times in his own creative way (Saints; All Saints; For Saints' sake; All Saints and your Aunt Eve; All Saints and the donkeys they rode in on) and (!) he also uses Ghezen (Sweet Ghezen). It's quite obvious that Jesper adopted Ghezen during his long stay in Ketterdam, but since he uses Saints much more often, it seems like something he got from his father as a child, since Colm also said many similar things in CK (All Saints; Saints; For Saints' sake). Do they recognise Saints on Wandering Isle? Probably.

And then there's Kaz. What do you think of his interjections? Have you noticed or thought about it? Kaz out loud never used any! Not Ghezen, not Saints, not Djel. There is only one exception where the interjection was part of his inner monologue.

Chapter 3, SoC:

"As Kaz headed down one of the little canals that would take him past Fifth Harbour, he realised he felt – Saints, he almost felt hopeful."

Oh yes, Kaz in his head when no one could hear him automatically used Saints and it wasn't because he wanted to mentally tease Inej about her Saints. I think the moment he felt almost hope, something from his past slipped out of the dark parts of his mind where he buried everything related to his family. Do we know for sure that Ghezen is the only god the Kerch people know? What about people from the countryside? Do they honour the god of industry, commerce and trade, or someone else who is closer to them? Who remembers where Marya Hendriks was kept? The Church of Saint Hilde. In addition, we also know two Kerch saints, Sankta Margaretha and Sankt Emerens. Coincidence? I don't think so.

[stromuprisahat]

Do you think any of the Exotics (from SoC) could be Grisha?

I think Grisha are too special category to remain unexplored and unexploited.

Sure, it could be another establishment, since Menagerie seems to focus on national stereotypes, but if there's plenty customers after "burnt caramel skin", there will be those seeking the thrill of fucking someone, who can alter their heartbeat or tie them up with no locks necessary.

There will likely be some measures in place to ensure said Grisha won't misbehave, but that's another turn-on, isn't it? The danger. The uncertainty no matter what the provider's willing to guarantee.

Kerch views Grisha as tools, and they're too vulnerable as a group to avoid being used in any way imaginable.

[mayflywrites]

inferni barty lighting heartrender regulus’ hair on fire. squaller evan trying to put it out while durast dorcas is rolling on the floor crying w laughter

[kasagia]

I alone can see your light

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/Darkling x fem!sun summoner!princess! reader Summary: The Sun Summoner turns out to be you - the princess of Ravka, who wants nothing to do with her powers or being a Saint. General Kirigan intends to change your mind about yourself and wipe out all your doubts. Requested by: anonymous ; I hope you will like it!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warning(s): uncertainty, shyness, self-doubt on 1000 level, suspecting manipulation Taglist for Darkling: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat @meadowshelby Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist

The first time you see General Kirigan is at your 20th birthday ball.

Or rather this is the first time you actually talk to him, rather than seeing him walk through the Grand Palace like one of his shadows or sneaking back to the Little Palace after returning from one of his campaigns.

"Moya tsarevna." He greets you. His tone of voice is… like you remember when he gave many speeches. Dark, silky, pleasant to listen to, you're sure many have fallen for him just because of the way he spoke to them. "Happy Birthday. May the saints watch over you."

He bows to you when it is his turn to approach your throne. Or rather, the small dais with the chair that your father so generously offered you for your birthday.

In any case, this gives you the perfect opportunity to take a good look at him. You find exactly what most people who have encountered him have described to you.

Self-possessed and mysterious, with eyes so dark and unreadable that they could be an extension of the fold his ancestor had created. Well-built, with sharp features, the embodiment of control and power. Even without his black kefta, you would know who was standing before you.

Sure, you'd had some impressions of him before. You had eyes like most people in the capital, and you'd seen how handsome he was. But he was also dangerously powerful.

The kind of man you ran from. The kind you should have run from.

But you don't.

"Thank you, General." You say as he steps closer to hand you his gift.

You smile politely, offering him your hand, on which he places a kiss. And in the moment when his lips meet your skin something changes.

A shiver runs down your palm, down your spine, and into your core. Something strange comes to life beneath your skin, some burning energy you've never felt before. You frown, quickly hiding your emotions behind a polite smile, not noticing the general's calm, collected facade momentarily break.

Your heart beats like crazy and your breath catches for a moment as the intense gaze of his eyes falls on you. And you see curiosity in them. Interest. In you.

"You would do us a great pleasure if you honoured us with your presence at the next Winter Fete." He adds, prolonging your conversation a bit.

Your heart immediately speeds up at the thought of participating in another farce for your father – the Tsar. You give him a polite smile, noticing from the corner of your eye the Kerch ambassador heading your way with his own wishes.

"I can't promise anything. I'm often away from the palace during this time, as you're well aware, General." You answer, referring to the numerous social activities your parents sent you to at that time.

"Anyway, I hope you will enjoy your gift and birthday. Once again, best wishes, moya tsarevna."

His watchful gaze leaves you only when another guest comes to wish you well. And even many hours later, when the ball is in full swing, you can't shake the feeling of being watched…

Little did you know that this little meeting between you would change your future by 180 degrees.

You lean against the wall, sipping champagne in celebration of your father's birthday. You hated all these formal gatherings. You planned to run away from here as fast as you could, to retreat back to your chambers or your private library; you weren't sure yet.

At least you had that intention until he walked up to you.

"Moya tsarevna." General Kirigan's voice echoes behind you as you eat the sweet treats the waiter brings. You quickly swallow the chocolate, momentarily lamenting the fact that you can't savour it properly, and turn to face the Black General. "Welcome back."

“General.” You nod and offer him your hand with a soft smile. He takes his time, placing a kiss on your knuckles—always gallant and considerate of you and your family. "I trust the Little Palace is in even better condition than when I left. I believe you have recently expanded the west wing for the little Grisha?"

You see the slight quiver of his eyebrows as he tries to keep his neutral face. But you could notice through this small gesture that he was shocked that you remembered something like that.

Most of your family, all of the royals, in fact, didn't put much stock in social matters, and certainly not in anything that concerned Grisha. As a princess with two brothers, you knew what it was like to feel excluded, less important. That's why you were sure to show support and attention to all those your father had come to despise and neglect.

"Indeed, Princess. It's kind of you to remember that. And to dedicate some of your resources to this cause. I can't express my gratitude enough."

"It's a pleasure to help a little for a great cause." You answer shyly, barely able to stand the intense gaze of his dark eyes.

You weren't intimidated by him; of course he was a dangerous, strong man, and you knew his capabilities perfectly well, but... you noticed more how breathtakingly handsome he was. Which was definitely not befitting a princess like you.

"Probably almost as much of a pleasure as seeing you here." You're glad you let Genya put a little more powder on you than usual. Maybe it at least covered your little blush. "We missed you at the Winter Fete. I was secretly hoping you'd come…"

"As charming as always." You comment nonchalantly, pretending his words didn’t make the slightest impression on you. “The orphans in Karemzin were waiting for my visit… or rather, for the gifts and money I was supposed to bring. I couldn’t let them down, General Kirigan, could I?”

"Of course not. But I strongly believe the Grisha here would enjoy your presence as well... maybe a little more than the orphans of Karemzin." He says and leans towards you.

You hold your breath as he gently wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb – probably wiping away a remnant of the chocolate dessert you had eaten earlier. You don't know if it's from the suddenness of his action, the surprise, or the outrage at his audacity, but you stand there, frozen in place as he licks the chocolate off his finger, looking you straight in the eye. You clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him to the dancing couples in front of you, but he doesn't give up.

“I assure you, princess, there are only a few people in this court to whom I am so… charming so willingly.” He whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Before you or the General can say anything more, one of your mother's ladies-in-waiting approaches you to take you back to the Queen, to fulfill her duty as a princess and stand beside her family as they toast another successful year of your father's rule.

Standing with a glass of champagne a comfortable distance from your parents' throne, your gaze wanders over the crowd. And you almost blush as you catch the eye of a certain general.

If you had known that your absence of several weeks, due to visiting orphanages and doing charity work, would make the Shadow Summoner so interested in you, you would have left sooner.

You're not entirely sure when his strange fascination with you began.

Not that you weren't flattered by that or not interested in him. It was obvious that he was undeniably handsome, that all the ladies-in-waiting were whispering about how attractive and magnetic the Second Army general was. But it wasn't his looks that attracted you to him, or at least you want to believe that.

No, it was something about the way he spoke, the way he made sure his Grisha were well cared for, the way he looked after each of his men no matter how useful they were to his army. He was gallant, charming, and cunning.

He knew the language of diplomacy as well as force and brutality, and while he was certainly much older than you (you couldn't quite remember when exactly he had succeeded his father in that position), you felt something for him that went beyond mild admiration. Something that was far from decent.

It made you wonder what had caused such a sudden change in him. What had caused him to go from indifference and ignorance towards you – something that so many did, considering you were just a princess – to actively seeking you out at parties, even asking for your presence at events he attended?

And that wasn't all. There were letters, too. At first, just informing you of certain actions of the Second Army, or your escort to certain parts of Ravka. Later, they turned into questions about your opinions on matters that concerned the court and Grisha, and later... less formal... the kind you wouldn't dare show your most trusted maids.

Not to mention the gifts. One moment you were missing your coat; the next day Genya brought you one specially made for you from the material that was used to make Grisha keftas. Did you lose your earrings? An hour later David – one of Kirigan's Grisha – gave you an entire collection of jewels that you adored and which were not necessarily Lantsov dynasty. Or the fact that ever since your birthday gala, it seemed like everywhere you went, you saw someone from his Oprichniki or the Grisha. It was, to say the least, odd.

In your thoughts about the general, you completely miss the moment when the suspicious man pushes through the crowd of people, reaches your father, and puts a dagger to his throat, especially since the man behind you turns out to be not a guard at all but an assassin. In an instant, you land with the trigger of the gun at your neck. Your eyes wander to your parents. Grisha and the soldiers of the Second Army push through the fleeing and screaming nobility, but all you can hear is the movement of the hand of the man holding you as he pulls the trigger.

You close your eyes, waiting for the bullet to pierce your throat, but all you feel is someone pulling on your arm. You open your eyes, meeting the dark, anger- and fear-clouded irises of the general, when suddenly, a beam of bright white light explodes around you, blinding everyone, including yourself.

The last thing you remember before you passed out from exhaustion were the dark eyes of General Kirigan, who had caught you at the last moment. And the screams of the people.

Sun Summoner.

You knelt by the fireplace in your chamber, your hands trembling in your lap. The events of the last hour flashed through your mind again.

Sun Summoner.

That's what Genya called you after you woke up. You shudder as you remember the look she gave you. Like you were their saviour. Like you were suddenly going to magically fix Ravka and unite the Grisha with its inhabitants. Bring peace to the world.

You dismissed the redhead under some pretext and locked yourself in your room, not wanting to see anyone. You knew you should be planning, immediately thinking of what to do next or plan your escape, but for a moment... for a moment you had to be alone with your thoughts.

You shift your gaze from the fire to your hands. Hands that killed Fjerda's soldiers, hands that were likely meant to bring even more suffering. Panicking, you notice they are beginning to glow again. You hold them tightly to your chest and repeat the mantra that has allowed you to suppress your abilities all these years.

Feel nothing. You can't fear. Fear will kill you. Fear will destroy you. They will cast you out. Once they know what a threat you are to them, how easily you let your control slip, they throw you out. You will be a Heretic, not a Saint. A threat. A plague. A bane.

A knock on the door tears you from your thoughts.

"Moya tsarevna?" You take a few deep breaths as General Kirigan's voice stops you from shaking. You bite your fist and let out a shaky breath to calm yourself down. Or at least pretend like nothing's wrong with you.

"I want to be alone." You respond, gathering all the strength you have to keep your voice from shaking.

The silence after your words allows you to believe for a moment that you have managed to drive him away for a while. Unfortunately, General Kirigan is anything but compliant.

"I'm back from meeting with your father - the Tsar. I have... some updates I need to give you, Princess." You bite your lip, weighing your options. You know he won't leave until he gives you the message. And you just want to be alone. "Please. It won't take long."

You wrap yourself in a blanket, trying to maintain the last remnants of decency and composure. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and fix your hair before you open the door to your room.

It always shocked you how the general managed to maintain his... flawless, intimidating appearance. Even today's attack hadn't ruffled the material of his kefta, and his hair was still in absurdly intact, perfect condition. He looked like he had just returned from Genya's magical appearance-enhancing services, not after a long, stressful day of searching for the remaining Fjerdans and dealing with your... predicament.

"Therefore, the Tsar and I have concluded that it would be best for you to spend some time in the Little Palace under my care." You catch the last sentence and almost blush when you realize you've been staring at him instead of listening. Your heart pounds as the meaning of his words sinks in. "Moya tsarevna?"

"I... I'm good here." You respond quickly, inwardly scolding yourself for your stupidity when he raises an eyebrow at you. "Besides, I don't need a training. I... I am not the Saint you are all waiting for. I mean... it was't me. It's not what you all think. If I really was... Then we would have known sooner. It must have been some kind of Fjerda trick. I... I can't be a Sun Summoner." You mumble in a desperate attempt to get out of this situation.

You couldn't be their saint and hero that you read about so many times in your books. It just wasn't you. You couldn't be.

You were a mere princess, a point in history that everyone would forget, supposed to fade safely into the memory of Ravka's history as another in a long list of female names that really meant nothing. And you were fine with that. You were fine within the safety of your chambers and library. You couldn't be…

"May I?" You shiver as he suddenly takes a step towards you and enters your room.

The General takes your hand with incredible gentleness. He gently strokes your hand with the pad of his finger, as if trying to calm your furiously beating heart. You feel nervous, both at his closeness and at the thought that somehow he can assure himself that you are... the one he and his men have been searching for all these years.

But then, his dark eyes meet yours. And for a mere moment you let yourself get bogged down in his gaze, your worries and concerns fading into the background as a warm sense of safety suddenly washes over you.

The longer his skin touches yours, the more you feel confidence, peace, and power flowing into you, which in some strange, indefinable way wants to break through your skin, to sing a melody that will answer his call.

You sigh softly as he pierces your skin with his sharp ring. You try with all your might to keep your power from flowing out, but it proves to be an impossible task. Your powers scream in relief at his proximity. They pull you toward him, causing your room to illuminate with a strong, bright, golden streak of light that flows from you at his call.

You dare to look at him just once before closing your eyes. And when you do, a small, winning smile spreads across his face. In his dark as shadows eyes you see a glimmer of an emotion you don't recognize.

"Looks like you are much more than you claim to be, moya tsarevna."

You're incredibly scared by all of this. Because you know that the moment he finds out you have absolutely no control over your powers, he'll cast you out. Just like your parents did an hour ago when they found out you were a Grisha.

And then, you will be completely alone.

"I've suspected it since your 20th birthday, but now I'm absolutely certain. You're one of us. You're Grisha." You shake your head at his words, pulling your hand from his grip. He frowns as if your reaction was anything but what he expected from you.

"No, I… I don't… you don't understand… this isn't… I'm not who you want me to be. You want a hero. I'm not one, I… I'm just a princess. Nothing you could use…"

"Heroes aren't born. They are made. Every bird needs a little training before it can spread its wings and fly properly. And with a power like yours… with a gift and a blessing like yours, you can't be anything less than great."

He interrupts you, his eyes betraying great agitation, and you shudder at the thought of how he'll want to use your powers…after all, that's what got him interested in you, right? The possibilities that opened up for him with you by his side, the things he could do. You knew that was what he had been after from the start.

That's why it hurt even more. Again, it wasn't about you.

"And die in a great battle or be known for a glorious death like our saints? No. Thank you, General. I am fine here alone, I… I do not want these powers." You say, pulling away from him and keeping your hands close to your chest, as if you were able to hide what he already found out, what everyone in the Palace already found out.

"You are not alone. Never again. You are one of us. You may not want it now, but it is what it is. And that's how it will be." You nod, losing this fight for now.

You no longer had the strength to argue. He would have done what he thought was right anyway. All that was left for you to do was prove how wrong he was.

Besides, your foolish heart had to process the fact that the man before you had no interest in you at all. He only desired your powers in you. And nothing more.

It would be wise if your heart came to the same conclusion as your mind. But perhaps the look of compassion, admiration, and fascination that the Shadow General was giving you now drowned out everything else.

For the past weeks, you couldn't find your place. The Little Palace was... surprisingly more pleasant than the Grand Palace you grew up in, but the feeling of alienation and not belonging to this new community made you spend most of your time in a distant corner of the library, nose deep in a book, hoping that Ivan - the heartrender who was supposed to watch over you on the general's orders - wouldn't find you too soon.

Honestly, the man in the red kefta irritated you more than your family. Which was a huge accomplishment in your opinion.

Today was supposed to be no different than any other day. You were hiding in a corner of the library, wrapped in a blanket with your legs bunched up to make yourself as small as possible on a comfortable couch.

Only this time someone else came to find you.

"Shouldn't you be training with Baghra, moya tsarevna?" You shiver as the general's voice echoes behind you. You put the book you were reading on the table and shift your gaze to him.

For a moment, you felt like a child again when, instead of listening to your governesses about etiquette and the rules of the court, you preferred to run away from Nikolai and hide in the gardens or other corners of the palace. You remember that once you were brave enough to hide in the Black General's chambers. You wonder if Kirigan's father was the same as him.

"She... canceled our class." You respond timidly, coming up with a weak lie on the spot. The role of the liar usually fell to Nikolai…

"Did she now?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. You bow your head and look down at your hands, trying to hide your embarrassed blush. You shiver as he suddenly sits down on the couch next to you, but you don't have the courage to face the deep blackness of his eyes again. "Do you like your kefta?"

You glance at the black material of your new kefta, absentmindedly smoothing out the embroidered gold patterns representing the sun and its rays as you take your time to answer him.

"I... it's beautiful. Although, I haven't seen anyone else wear black, General. Well... besides you of course." You reply, playing with the black material. You catch his gaze for a moment, then you grab a book from the coffee table and stand up to put it back on one of many bookshelves.

"Yes... it's a colour reserved only for shadow summoners due to our... uniqueness. Just like you are. I thought it would match perfectly for you. Like calls to like, isn't that right?" He adds jokingly and also stands up to take a few steps towards you.

"I... unfortunately, I'm afraid I'm not who you want me to be. I definitely don't deserve such… special treatment." You voice your concerns with your back turned to him as you thoughtfully trace the leather spine of the book you've put aside with your fingertip.

You know very well how little time you have left here. Baghra will soon discover that you have absolutely no control over your powers and, when the general finds out... there will soon be no room for you in the Little Palace. Maybe it would be better this way. Maybe you should run away before you expose yourself to the burning pain of their disappointment. And especially his disappointment.

You sigh when he unexpectedly places his hand on yours, gaining your attention almost immediately. And holy Saints above, it was so easy to just lose yourself in his attentive, warm, non-judgmental gaze.

You stand by the bookshelf, not daring to move an inch from your spot. When his skin touches yours again, you feel that familiar feeling of warmth spreading through you.

"I have been waiting a long time for you, moya tsarevna. All of us did. But believe me, I doubt you will be able to disappoint me. Unless you perpetually avoid your lessons with Baghra." You bite your lip, not wanting to ruin the moment between you with your snort of amusement.

"She's... specific."

“I guess that’s a more gentle way to call her.” He laughs at your careful choice of words. For a moment he traces patterns on your palm, thinking hard about something. “You will practice with me. Once a week, in the evenings in my office. I will personally see to it that you… do not miss these lessons.”

"No. This isn't necessary. I'm sure you have more important things than this." You respond quickly, panicking internally. You alone with him in his chambers… your poor heart can't take it.

"Nothing is more important than you." His response is as quick as yours, decisive - definitively killing any attempts you make to gently reject his proposal. And for a moment, for one brief moment, you allow yourself to believe your foolish heart that it's because he cares about you more than he cares about your powers. "Right now you are the most important thing for me... and for Ravka and for all of us. You should start to get used to it, moya tsarevna."

He mumbles and pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your skin. Another thing that set him apart from the rest. Everyone else kissed the Lantsov ring on your finger. He avoided it like the plague, instead caressing your skin.

But it was just a game, right? So why did you feel like a heroine from one of those romance novels you shamefully read? Why did your heart beat faster every time he appeared next to you, to guide you through all the Grisha customs you didn't know yet? Why did it feel so real when it was supposed to be fake and a game from the start?

You knew the court games, the toying with women's hearts by meaner men, and even the dirty tricks ladies used to win the hearts of their chosen partners. But never... never had anyone shown you such ardent, deceptive, genuine interest and respect as he had for you.

So how much of this was a game, an attempt to keep you in line, and how much of it was the general's true heart revealed only for your eyes? How much of his gentleness was genuine, and how much was a show to inspire in you the trust he needed?

How much of this was the dirty play allowed in love, and how much was a disgusting deception to benefit himself?

"See you for dinner?"

The way he looks at you, with all the hope he has in you and a kind of adoration that you don't quite know the reason for, makes you able only to nod politely and agree to his plans.

Sure. A dining room full of Grisha. A wonderful time to spend an evening. A dining room where he will also be by your side.

The lump in your throat grows as you realize that now you're more afraid of letting him down than of a sudden outburst of power that you won't be able to control.

You freeze as he leans down to press his soft, plump lips to your forehead. You stand there in a daze, all you can do is stare at him as he bids you goodnight and walks away - presumably to his war room so he can continue planning how to use your powers to finally tame the fold.

You had no idea what kind of spells he cast on you, but it was working. Slowly, you began to fall for the Black General. And you found it both very terrifying and exciting. So much so that for a moment you forget that you are a ticking bomb that no one knows about yet.

A few weeks later, you are on your way to your chambers late at night after a lesson with Baghra. Or rather, torture, judging by the blood dripping from your hands onto the floor of the Little Palace.

You try with what little dignity you have left to hold back the tears as you practically run for the safe walls of your chambers, your mind replaying all the insults the old hag had hurled at you.

A loser. A weakling. A whiner. A failure. A brainless, lazy princess who can't do anything except keep her nose in her books and her mouth shut. Delusional little girl who is able only to live in her fantasy world and would die if she was left alone to face the real world.

You press your bloody hand to your mouth, desperately holding back a sob as you run forward to get to your chambers. And then of course you have to run into someone.

With your luck you don't even have to open your eyes to know who you've collided with. Besides, over the weeks you had learned to recognize his presence just by his scent. (Pathetic and unfortunately true.)

But you look up nonetheless and meet the dark irises of General Kirigan.

And then the dam breaks.

You break down into a full-blown sob, letting him pull you into his arms as he notices the emotional mess you’re in. You cry into the soft material of his dark kefta, holding on tightly as he rocks you in his arms and strokes your hair, ignoring the fact that you’re staining his kefta with both blood and your tears.

After a while of sobbing into the general's chest, you manage to calm down enough to be able to register something around you again, more than the warmth of his arms and the murmur of incomprehensible whispers he spoke to calm you down.

You didn't have to understand his words thogh. The rumbling of his deep voice alone brought you incredible solace - one that was both your salvation and the harbinger of your doom, releasing in you feelings that you shouldn't have for the much more powerful Grisha.

When you calm down enough to realize where you are, you discover that the general has taken you to his private chambers. You pull away from him gently, wiping the tears from your eyes with your hands and feeling even more helpless and smaller than before you cried into him.

How humiliating it must have looked. Princess of Ravka, Summoner of the Sun, crying in the arms of the Black General like a little child.

"I'm not suited for this." You tell him, looking at your hands instead of at him. Your royal signet ring with your family's crest burns your skin like never before. "I'm not a warrior, not a Grisha, not even a leader, I... take this from me. Please. Just take it away from me." You say and raise your watery eyes to him.

"I... you have to understand, princess... we all have our bad days. Don't just give up this... gift. You don't know how many of us would like to wield such power."

You saw the hunger in his eyes, the exact same hunger that was always there alongside the delight whenever he watched the light come from you. You were perfectly aware that he wanted your power. And you were more than willing to give it to him. You were desperate to give it to someone else. Before you hurt anyone with it.

"I know that perfectly well! As well as that I am not the one who should have it. I am not... I will not be your saint." His gaze hardens slightly at your firm statement.

"I have no idea what Baghra told you. I can only promise you that she will pay dearly for it and that everything that came out of her lying mouth was nothing but a poisonous lie. This old woman had long ago forgotten how to be a decent human being. Or at least a human being."

"It doesn't matter, I… she told the truth. Everything everyone in this fucking palace thinks, but doesn't have the courage to tell me to my face. I'm not cut out for this, I can't fight, I'm not one of your soldiers, and I'll be of no use to Ravk or the Durga Army or your Grisha. I'm a princess. The only thing of value is my lineage, the dynasty I belong to, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool."

Kirigan lets go of your hands and stands up from the couch, and from the way shadows began to circle the room and the wrinkles in his forehead, you know that whatever plans he had for you, none of them involved you bucking him. Or the sheer belief in your uselessness.

"Princess..."

"Exactly!" You interrupt him, gathering all your courage and standing up from the couch as well as you glare at him with a stern, cold stare—the same one you’ve seen on him, your parents, and other people so many times. "I am your princess and you are subject to me and my family. You must follow my orders and if I say you must take these... powers from me then that is what you must do, General."

The atmosphere in the room is thick. You know that by playing the princess card, you have most likely destroyed the tentatively building... bond between you. However, you come to the conclusion that you would rather have him hold a grudge and dislike for you than die because one day your power will slip beyond the little control that you had over it.

And though your heart aches with every second he gives you that cold, even hurt look, you know you're doing what's best for yourself, Ravka, Grisha, and even him.

"As you wish, moya tsarevna." An unpleasant shiver runs down your spine as he pronounces the title in a completely different way from the sweet one you were used to. Cold, forced, with a hidden mockery. Just like he addressed your mother, brothers and father. "However, you must know that I must discuss this with the Tsar before... we think of any way to solve your problem."

You can't tell what offended him more - the fact that you took advantage of your higher rank and title, or the fact that you reject this gift of summoning the sun, which he considers sacred.

But what did he expect from you? You didn't belong here. You never did.

When he mockingly bows to you and walks away, you want to call after him and take back your words. But you don't.

You stand frozen in the middle of the room, tears streaming down your heated cheeks as you sink to your knees. You put a hand to your mouth and sob quietly, turning the room into a small beacon as your power once again spirals out of control.

Your eyes hurt from the amount of light you're emitting, but you don't even try to shield them with your hand. You take your pain as some kind of penance for what you're about to do.

You know that your father has no intention of letting you give up your power. Because as much as he despised Grisha, he feared them. He would rather have that power stay with you than fall into "their" hands. That's why there was only one thing you could do.

You run.

After carefully analyzing your situation, you come to the conclusion that running away may not have been as great a solution as you thought.

It's true that you managed to cross the palace walls and even the capital's gates, but now, as you walked alone along the forest path, your courage and morale dropped significantly.

You shiver, holding your coat tighter as the cold air makes your bones feel unpleasantly hot. You should definitely bring the kefta though. It was warmer, with fur, and the material was so nice... You shake your head, tightening your grip on the handle of the oil lamp - the only thing besides the coat you'd stolen from the general's chambers. Your thoughts briefly wander to him as you smell his scent still lingering on the material.

Stupid, naive idiot, you think, walking forward. You have no idea why you cared so much about what he thought. In the past weeks, he could have been your only support in this difficult situation, but you knew that all he cared about was how to use your powers for himself...

The only thing that you couldn't understand was why he was so angry and hurt when you demanded from him to take these powers away from you.

This was the perfect solution for him. He would have all this light that was buzzing under your skin completely for himself. As both the Summoner of Shadows and the Sun he could have done a great things - maybe even taking over all of the Ravka for himself, if not the whole world.

He wouldn't have to deal with your sudden, hysterical emotional outbursts, your lack of any fighting skills, or any of the shit you've been putting him and yourself through these few months.

You were an intellectual, a strategist, not a soldier or a saint. You were a princess—the most useless person in the kingdom. And that was how it was supposed to stay, until he... until he saw you as something more. Someone you weren't at all.

Unless… unless he really cared about you. Not just your powers.

You sigh, shaking your head and walking forward, completely ignoring in your intense thinking that someone was following you. And they weren't soldiers of the First or Second Army at all.

You want to say it came suddenly, that you couldn't possibly have predicted Drüskele's attack, but the truth is you felt something coming. Maybe you simply didn't care about your fate anymore to even try to fight.

The ease with which they capture you is downright embarrassing. Sitting tied up against a tree trunk with a few Fjerda soldiers guarding you, you only reinforce your belief that you shouldn't be the Sun Summoner.

You only regret that you couldn't pass on your power to a general or some other, more capable Grisha.

Because of you, they will have to wait another century for someone who could be able to harness such great power.

As you prepare to die, you don't even consider the possibility that someone will save you. And certainly not that your saviour might be the Black General himself.

Everything around you is happening too fast for you to process it properly. One second your wrists are tied up; the next you feel someone tugging on your ropes as the forest around you is darkened by familiar shadows.

Your survival instincts kick in, and you start to struggle in the arms of someone pulling you away from the shadows you are immersed in. Panicked, you feel your heart pounding in your chest as you desperately try to reach for your light, but all that comes out of you is a tiny ray.

"Don't move, you stupid girl. We haven't chased you for half a month just to have you accidentally die from one of his cuts." Ivan growls dryly in your ear.

You feel him using his powers on you to slow your heart rate, to force you to cooperate and follow him. And while it seemed logical to you to go with him, all you wanted was to get as far away from here as possible – feeling free and in control of your fate for even a short moment.

And then something inside you shifts, like it's falling into place. You scream as pure, unstoppable light bursts out of you. Ivan's grip on you falls away completely, and all you can feel is the warmth washing over you again as your power comes to the surface, as you release everything you've suppressed for so many years.

As if through a wall, the screams of the Fjerdans reach you as you burn them to ash with your light, but you can't stop it. Finally, you lose control, as if to spite them; you want to show them all how dangerous and unstable you are, how they should all stay away from you.

But they aren't. At least not him.

You wonder when exactly you learnt to recognise the General's touch on your skin. You can't seem to remember. But it doesn't matter, not when he gently cups your cheek in his hand, forcing you to open your eyes that you had so tightly squeezed shut and look into his dark irises, so different from the bright light that emanates from you.

He sees you. He hasn't turned away. He doesn't run away. He doesn't look at you like you're a monster or a dangerous weapon that may turn against him.

For the first time, you feel like you have control over your powers, not them over you. When you are sure that no one will attack you again, you retreat. You hide your power, pulling on the beams of light as if they were ordinary string, and coil them deep inside you.

You did it. You controlled it.

"Ivan, see what's left of them and gather those who can still be questioned. We're going home." The general wastes no time in pushing you towards his black horse.

You resist for a moment but eventually allow him to put you on it. You were too exhausted from running and using your powers to ride alone anyway.

His arms wrap around you as he settles behind you and takes the reins in his hands. You shiver as his kefta wraps around you like a blanket, trapping you even tighter in his arms. And strangely, you don’t feel like you’ve lost any of your freedom.

"Cross the walls of the Little Palace without my knowledge once again, and I will order David to bind you to me for eternity." He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on the horse’s reins and pulling you closer into the cage of his arms.

You rest your head on his shoulder, getting used to the feeling of his toned chest against your back. The fabric of his black kefta brushes against your shoulders. It flutters in the wind around you two as he leads the horse into a gallop.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" You whisper, your voice barely higher than the sound of the wind around you. You are surprised that he is able to hear it at all without expecting an answer from him.

"Both."

There's a moment of silence between you, broken only by the pounding of his horse and your breathing. You get the feeling that if you concentrate hard enough, you'll be able to hear the quiet thump of his heart behind you.

One of his hands drops the reins to rest gently on your hip, seemingly steadying you in the saddle as he pulls you closer to him, leaning fully against his body. You swallow and place your hand on his, your finger tracing the edges of the ring he wore on his thumb.

"Do you want me or my powers?" You gather all your courage and ask, taking his hand in yours and placing two fingers on his wrist to feel his pulse.

"If I wanted your powers, would I go through the trouble of teaching you to control them?" He replies after a few seconds of silence. A mocking smile involuntarily spreads across your lips.

"That's not really the answer."

"And you won't get one. For your escape, downright treason, I should personally use the cut on you."

And though his threat should make you tremble in his arms or stimulate your survival instinct to run as far away from him as possible, it doesn't. You know they are just empty words and that he would never do such a thing to you. You were too precious for him, both as his ally and something more...

"That's not how you should address your princess."

"Moya tsarevna… there are many ways I would like to address you… and believe me, most of them do not even border on appropriate."

He grabs your hand and lifts it to press a kiss to your knuckles. Little streaks of light shine through your fingertips at the gesture.

"I'm still not the soldier you want."

"I see that. It was painfully obvious they were following you, only an idiot would not notice. But I have another use for you."

"As your weapon that you can direct and use at your will?" You question him, turning in your saddle so you can take a look at him, hoping to read something from the depth of his dark eyes. And the longer you looked into them, the longer it seemed you were falling down a rabbit hole of adoration for him.

His answer, however, exceeds your wildest expectations.

"As moya tsaritsa."

"But..." You shake your head at his words, not even noticing when he stops his horse.

He cupped your cheeks gently in his rough hands. The cool metal of his ring digging into your delicate skin is reminding you of all the differences between you.

He was rough and hard, chiselled by years of fighting not only your father but also Fjerda and Shu Han – all who would dare to hurt his Grisha. You, on the other hand, were a delicate rose hidden behind the bell jar of the Grand Palace, put on display only to wither in the depths of your cage.

But not anymore. Not since he had spotted you and snatched you away.

"I alone can see your light. I alone know your mind. I saw all of you and I have never turned my back on you. Not like your family or your subjects will when they find out what you are truly capable of. But your power is not all that you are. I was the first to see it. Maybe even the only one. You won't find anyone better than me."

He speaks in a matter-of-fact tone, laying out all the advantages of marrying him, of agreeing to his plan, as if he were discussing military strategy with you. But there’s something in his eyes, a spark that you’ve never seen when he was speaking to his men or negotiating military business with your father.

"Is this your proposal?"

"Is this your consent?"

"You'll have to do a little more than feed me sweet words and gifts to get me to agree to this."

"It's good that we have eternity, my little saint." He mumbles, leaning towards you, giving you a few seconds to push him away from you before he captures your lips in a kiss.

It's gentle at first, testing the waters, caressing your lips with the utmost reverence, as if he were truly touching something sacred. But soon enough he's gripping your waist, pulling you as close to him as he can. He places a hand on the back of your neck and tilts your head so he has better access to your mouth as his tongue delicately tastes you for the first time.

You don't care anymore if this is his plan, if this is his way of making sure you stay on his side. Your heart is pounding as you bask in the glow of attention, of being seen and appreciated, and if you're sinning, then you don't want to be his little saint. You want to be his tsaritsa.

The feeling of his lips against yours, the whisper of your name on his lips between kisses, and the gasps of pleasure as you respond with equal attention and tangle your hands in his hair erase all your doubts.

All you want to feel is his touch on you, his gaze on you, his adulation, devotion, and affection – all the things you've been denied for years. And maybe you're naive; maybe it's not real, but if it isn't... then you don't want to know the truth. What he gives you is enough for you.

That he sees you is enough for you.

[petertingle-yipyip]

THAT’LL BE THE DAY - KAZ BREKKER

Pairing: (established) Kaz x Reader

Word Count: 1,710

Summary: (request) “Heyy… I wasn’t sure whether your requests were closed or not… so I am asking you Kaz Brekker x reader wife who’s a Russian assassin and they have been trying really hard for a baby and reader ends up having twin boys. Thank you <3”

The first time it hit you was in the middle of a job.

You were heading back to meet the rest of your crew when the nausea slammed into you. Your steps faltered as your hand came to your mouth. You could feel the vomit threatening but you forced it down. It wasn’t the time. Swallowing the nasty feeling, you kept going and kept it to yourself.

A few days later, you were at the Club in the usual booth with your friends. Nina brought over a plate of waffles, piled high with powdery sweetness and fruits. The smell of the treats made your stomach roll. Your hand came to your mouth as if that contact would keep the feeling to just that.

“Saints, Nina. What did you coat that with?” You mumbled, inching away from the monstrous creation.

“Nothing more than usual.” She frowned. “Are you alright? You seem… Well, green.”

“Fine.” You swallowed the rising bile in your throat. “Excuse me.”

You practically climbed over Wylan to get out the booth. You heard some comments from your friends, words of concern mostly, but you didn’t stop. You kept going until you were out in the Barrel streets. You took a deep breath and the immediate nausea settled, but there was still a general unease in your stomach.

What was going on?

You realized also you were exhausted. You had been for a few days. Your body was fatigued and achy. Your back was tight, joints stiff, eyes heavy.

The terrible thought that you had been poisoned crept into your mind. You hurried to the Slat, both hoping for and dreading Kaz’s presence there. You wanted to talk to him and have him help you figure it out, but if something was actually wrong, you couldn’t bear to think of how he’d handle it.

Instead, you focused on the possibility of poison. A tainted blade or bullet would be an easy enough carrier. You thought of past jobs and any injuries you took. Usually, you were careful. Some compared you to the Wraith, but you wouldn’t know. You joined the Crows after she set sail. Regardless, you couldn’t remember any time that would’ve worked to infect you.

A gas, maybe, but others from your crew would’ve felt it. You considered maybe they were immune, something the Kerch had defense against. Then again, your crew was from scattered places across the world. None of them would’ve been.

You got to your quarters quickly, a shared space between you and Kaz. You let out a relieved sigh when you saw he wasn’t there. You went straight for the bathroom.

You stripped your shirt to examine your torso for something. A knick. A slice. A penetration. Even if it was old and scabbed and visibly wrong, you would’ve taken it. You would’ve loved the explanation for your sudden ailment.

Instead, facing back at you in the mirror, was the same body you knew.

Well… Mostly knew.

Your bound chest to allow your protective gear to fit seemed different. You leaned a bit closer to the mirror, poked the flesh that was practically spilling out.

Odd, you never bound yourself that tight.

You frowned as your eyes drifted further down to your stomach. Your head cocked in confusion. Your stomach seemed rounder, bloated almost.

The new possibility made you dizzy. Gently, you placed. hand on your stomach.

“Are you really in there?” You asked your belly before laughing in disbelief. “If not, I’ve definitely gone mad.”

“Y/N?” Kaz’s voice echoed, urgency clear in his tone.

“In here.” You called over your shoulder, but your attention was still on your reflection in the mirror. You noticed you were smiling slightly.

“Jesper told me you practically ran from the Club.” He said tightly. His eyes were roving your body, looking for an injury.

You rolled your eyes a bit. Clearly, Jesper told him more than that.

“Do I seem… different?” You turned to him. You lowered your hand, folded both behind your back to allow a clear view.

“You seem tired.” He confessed. His leather clad hand rested lightly on your cheek. “Too many late nights in the shadows.”

Kaz usually managed to touch you without his gloves. When you two first met, you were averse to touch as well, through very different traumas. You grew up with physical touch as pain. Touch was turned to death for him. Together, you worked through it as you grew to trust and care for each other.

A gift, he once told you. To touch you and be touched by you was a gift.

“Shadows are my friends.” You shrugged. “They don’t exhaust me, my love.”

“Are you sick then?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. Gently, you took his hand from your cheek and placed it on your stomach.

His eyes were searching yours and you cracked a smile.

“Not a sickness, but there is something.” You answered.

The next day, he insisted you go to a Corporalnik. You offered the clinic but he said no. People can get sick at the clinic, and you knew why that bothered him. His brother died of a sickness. He wouldn’t risk that for you, especially if you were in the condition you suspected.

Without much protest, you went with him to Little Ravka. It was relatively easy to get in with a Corporalnik, considering who you and Kaz were and the little ‘we’re-friends-of-the-Ravkan-crown’ line he liked to throw around.

“Dirtyhands and the Shadowmaker. I should consider myself lucky.” The woman greeted with a smile. “What brings you to my door?”

“I’ve been feeling different.” You explained carefully. “Tired, achy, nauseous.”

“Kerch medicine isn’t enough?” She raised a brow.

“It’s not treatment we’re hoping for.” You shook your head. “It’s confirmation. The symptoms are a few weeks old, more persistent as time goes on.”

“Let me guess. Your body’s changing as well?”

You nodded hesitantly.

She looked between you and Kaz a few times, as if she was piecing the request together. She smirked to herself before she came closer. Her hands moved quickly and you reached out for Kaz. Immediately, he took hold of your forearm and you gripped tight to his sleeve in return.

She stepped away and sighed.

“You two together is enough chaos around here. Seems like Kerch will need to brace for a new type of storm.” She folded her hands in front of her.

“Are you saying…” Saying the word seemed impossible. Could you truly be pregnant?

“You’ll need to step away for a bit, Shadowmaker.” She smiled. “You’ve got two more important things to make.”

“Two?” You breathed. The idea made your knees weak but Kaz was there immediately to support you.

“May the Saints watch over you and guide you.” She patted your shoulder.

She then turned to Kaz and gave him some tips and instructions, which you tuned out. You knew he’d remember everything she said so you didn’t need to listen. You were too wrapped up in the idea of carrying two babies. Being pregnant alone was an insane concept, but to have two babies was undreamt of.

You were quiet on your walk back to the Slat.

“I was thinking…” You began. “About how my work will change now.”

“I was thinking the same.” Kaz nodded.

“So we’re agreed?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll slow down for now and then step back in a bit.” You said at the same time Kaz said “You’re off any jobs for the foreseeable future.”

“Excuse me?” You said loudly. “You don’t make that choice for me.”

No. No, Kaz couldn’t take that away from you. Something strange took over your thoughts. You worked, no matter what pain or ailment you endured. That was who you were, who you were molded to be.

You. Always. Endured.

The tears welling in your eyes only added to your frustration. If Kaz took you off jobs, you were of no use to him, the Crows, your friends. You’d be a throw away, useless body, waste of resources. Words that weren’t yours, names your friends never used, clouded your focus. With those in mind, you silently cried.

“Y/N?” Kaz said, nearly a gasp. When he discarded his gloves, you didn’t know. With an abundance of caution, he placed his hands on either cheek. You felt the strokes of his thumbs brushing away the falling tears.

“You can’t.” You breathed shakily. “I can keep working, Kaz, I promise. I- I’ll be careful. I can do more int-���

“Where is this coming from?”

“You won’t want me if I’m not useful.”

“I’ll have to be six feet underground to feel like that.” He said firmly. He almost sounded offended that you’d even suggest that. “Nothing will ever change you and I. You can stand there and argue with the wall until your sweet face turns blue. This-“ He nodded between you two. “-is here to stay.”

“But-“ You tried.

“I don’t care about the jobs, my Dear. I care about you.” He said with a gentle force. You sniffled as he continued. “Keeping you safe is all that matters. All three of you.”

You smiled and laughed slightly. “We don’t know it’ll keep.”

One of his hands went down to rest on your stomach and you laid both of your hands over his.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” He promised.

You smiled a bit wider and dropped your forehead against his shoulder. He chuckled quietly and leaned his cheek against your hair.

“I’m scared.” You confessed. “I may be a terrible mother.”

“I’m not sure I know how to be a father.” He answered calmly. “But we can figure it out together, Y/N.”

“They’ll be the safest kids in the Barrel.”

“They’ll handle knives before they can walk.”

“Jes is gonna try to teach them to shoot as soon as they can stand.” You laughed.

“That’ll be the day.” You could hear the slight smile in his words.

“They’ll need names.” You leaned away to see his expression. “I feel like they’ll be boys.”

“Twin boys then?” He raised a brow and you simply shrugged.

“Mother’s intuition, I guess.” You grinned. “What about…”

“Jordie.” He said quietly, knowing what you were going to say. “We should…”

“Of course.” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “He’d be so proud of you… I am.”

He said nothing, just pulled you against him and held you close. You didn’t need him to say anything. You wrapped your arms around him just as tight and you knew, without any doubt, that you wouldn’t want a family with anyone else.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

I’m thinking about Ghezen and Kerch and the Grishaverse worldbuilding again, and I think it’s really interesting that Ghezen appears to be the only God in the religion and yet, unusually for monotheistic religions, is almost alwayd referred to with the specification “god of industry and commerce” rather than simply as “God”. We know that the other major religions in the Grishaverse are both polytheistic; there are many Saints of different attributes, and though no other Fjerdan gods are named we are explicitly told Djel is part of a pantheon in a conversation between Nina and Matthias (“you know our gods?” “Some” “but you know Djel?” Or something close to that, this is from memory). But, like much about the major religion in Kerch (I would say especially because our two Kerch main characters are atheists), we don’t know whether Ghezen is the only god, the leader of a pantheon, or part of a pantheon that used to be more widely worshiped but has over time narrowed to focus on Ghezen as part of the religious manifestations of Ketterdam’s extreme capitalism and classism. I’ve been thinking about it as well in conjunction with the essay I plan to write about death in Ketterdam and it’s class system, because writing about death usually leads to religious topics but we don’t really have any information as to whether their are religious rites for deceased Kerch, except perhaps to speculate that they might favour burial over burning and that’s why the richest of the city pay to have their bodies removed to the countryside whilst the lower classes are burned on the Reaper’s Barge. But anyway getting distracted by my future plans for that post now, the point of this is just general intrigue on what you all think:

[19burstraat]

ketterdam dashboard simulator 2 (electric boogaloo)

(first one here)

❌ urkerchfaveisproblematic follow

Who submitted Kaz Brekker. don't take the piss he's literally wanted every other Wednesday

🍃 squallertales follow

Wait what did Brekker do

🌊 boekcanaling

Girl what DIDN'T he do

🦁 dimelionsofficial follow

Ghezen's Day Piss Up starts TONIGHT at the Kaelish Prince! Come down before four bells and get ten kruge off your first drinks purchase and an extra spin on Makker's Wheel!

👤 dregsofficial

545.06.7.9

🦁 dimelionsofficial follow

HOW DID YOU GET PAST THE FUCKING VPN. FUCK YOU KAZ BREKKER. FUCK YOU SO MUCH. YOU DO THIS EVERY TIME. WE'RE NOT EVEN DOING ANYTHING TO YOU. WE'RE ALL JUST PEOPLE WITH JOBS. TRYING TO GET BY. MOST OF US NEVER EVEN SPOKE TO ROLLINS. THIS IS SO TWISTED. YOUR ACTUALLY WRONG IN THE HEAD. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. I ACTUALLY CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS ANYMORE. I'M SICK.

👤 dregsofficial

*you're

❓lidandstavessuggestions

#234: build mickey's dick smasher between east and west stave

🍷dregsconfessions

So I've been a dregs member for a long time (I'm in my 30s now) and back when I was a new grunt I was especially trolleyed at the Crow Club, and I ended up spilling like half my pint on the head of one of Haskell's feral little runners, yk one of the little kids?? I just kind of mopped him with my sleeve and said sorry and figured that it was the end of it... however it has occurred to me lately that it actually might have been Kaz. Honestly I never could tell the difference between all the kids, and I didn't look properly at him, but now I've been waking up in a cold sweat several times a week thinking about it. Is it time for me to retire from the gang life

#submisson #admin comment: lately all of these have just been ppl embarrassing themselves in front of kaz

🧇 stroopwafels

There's definitely blogs on here that are undercover advertising for the Dregs btw. I accuse that one that thirstposts abt Dirtyhands

🧤 dirtyhandsy follow

:( no I'm a Razorgull actually

🧇 stroopwafels

WHAT???????

🧤 dirtyhandsy follow

I have eyes :/

🧇 stroopwafels

You won't for much longer if your boss finds out omfg

🃏 makkerswheelies follow

you guys are cowards for not wanting to fuck Brekker. Out of my way ghezenboy I'm bout to get it

🃏 makkerswheelies follow

My wallet is Gone

💀 dregsundrained follow

Kaz Brekker isn't violent. Dirtyhands is. Get it right

🏵️ cillasfryup

Gonna rob a bank tomorrow and when the stadwatch come I'm gonna tell them it was my alter ego Countess Boochie Flagrante

🙏🏻 thumbofghezen follow

sooooo sick of seeing people say that the council of tides shouldn't have complete control over kerch shipping. they stop the island from sinking??? every day?? have some respect

⛲ sanktvladimirs

idk about you guys but I'd be popping the BIGGEST bottles if kerch started sinking

🏵️ cillasfryup

me and the girls when kerch starts sinking

🌊 boekcanaling

staff please let me reblog ads please please please please

💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow

guys you have 24 hours to unfollow sanktvladimirs not only are they impersonating and mocking real etherealki and real saints (they are NOT a member of the second army) they're a dregs member, and I bet they're a fucking ka/nej too

⛲ sanktvladimirs

@ dregsofficial

💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow

I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow

WHO SENT ME AN ANON ASK WITH MY ADDRESS

🍷dregsundrained

guys I was looking at the wiki contributions who the fuck added a jesper fahey page to the dregs wiki... from inside the stadhall???

🥳 pearlhandledrevolvers

you know what. don't even worry about it

liked by dregsofficial

🍃 squallertales follow

the wraith was only seventeen when she started hunting slavers???? she should have been at the club

#DON'T crawl out of the woodwork and say 'oh the crow club-' #the REAL CLUB. for FUN

🎨 dekappelfan follow

🎨 dekappelfan follow

it's so nice to know no one agrees on this

[apathetic-kiss]

Kerch History Museum (Section 2B, Ketterdam Artifact Archives)

Photograph of Inej "Wraith" Ghafa and an unknown individual crossing the rooftops of Ketterdam. Ghafa was infamous due her ties with the Dregs and her association with Kaz "Dirtyhands" Brekker, but would later go on to become one of the most renowned pirate captains known for taking down hundreds of slaver ships and rescuing thousands of kidnapped individuals being trafficked to Kerch under exploitative indenture contracts. (For more information, see Exhibit 21: Indenture Laws & Kerch's History of Slavery, Exhibit 23: The Dregs & Other Notable Ketterdam Gangs, and Exhibit 26: Sankta Inej & Other Modern Saints) Obtained from an anonymous donor 4.25" x 3.14" Photographer Unknown Artifact #24383

[undercover-grisha]

Crows as Content Creators

Nina: language learning YouTube main channel, will comment on world happenings in other languages and teach people all the swears. Matthias appears pretty often in the Fjerdan videos, but the others pop up often too. Most popular video is “Rich Boy Kerch vs. Country Boy Kerch: Who Will Win?!” And it’s just her asking Kaz and Wylan to say things and then cackling when they get mad at each other. She also streams on Twitch where she plays cozy games that she gets WAY too worked up about. Is a deviant in Sims 4. 300k on YouTube, 450k on Twitch

Jesper: commentary YouTuber, specifically in the Gabi Belle/Andy King way where he like holds his microphone in hand and also walks around his room just chatting and yapping. TikTok for gag jokes and coin tricks, as well as showing off his boyfriend. 1 mill on YouTube, 500k on TikTok

Matthias: aesthetic day-in-the-life instagram creator, lots of nature and Nina pics. Runs an every-so-often YouTube where he teaches dog training tricks. 20k on YouTube, 200k on Insta

Kaz: finance advice TikTok, but like actually helpful advice, like that one PR woman who does really great breakdowns. Kind of the smarmy Hank Green of finance, is constantly telling people to stop worrying about the economy when they get too excited. 600k

Inej: TikTok with her aerial silk performances and mini cut up tutorials for stretching. YouTube for longer stretch tutorials, with daily prayers to the Saints, and an actual gym vlog montage. Sometimes does meditation guides. 2 mill on TikTok, 1 mill on Youtube

Wylan: kills on TikTok, actually. Has an instagram where he posts flute facts and tutorials, put posts all his actual music and covers on TikTok. Streams horror games every so often, rarely phased by jump-scares, though they always get Jesper when he joins him. Always drinks a fabcy new drink that no one knows the name of, and constantly just drops, “yeah, I’m snacking on lychee from Shu Han.” Or “pineapple from The Southern Colonies” And everyone’s like ??? 3 mill on TikTok, 600k on Insta, 400k on Twitch

[evellynssocbrainrot]

Kanej after ROW

Dear Kaz Brekker

How has it been? You won't believe what I discovered. The current queen of Ravka transformed into a dragon! It's not that I was never privy to the Ravkan government being pure drama and nothing else, but I never thought their issues would get this out of hand.

Also, I saw the Ravkan saint, Alina Starkov. It's actually funny how she thought I wouldn't notice while she's in disguise and keeping a low profile.

And Queen Zoya and King Nikolai have given me an invitation to their wedding. Cross your fingers for me.

Yours Truly

Captain Inej Ghafa

--------

Dear Captain Ghafa

I've been well, how about you? And I certainly can believe what you discovered, as I've found no less. General Nazyalenski and Ravka's privileged golden boy she brought with her offered me a job of stealing titanium from, Rentveen, the Kerch military base, in exchange for assuring safe travels for you and your crew. So I went, taking Jesper and Wylan with me, and we successfully heisted the titanium, easy as breathing. And towards the end, the privileged golden boy, I'm referring to Lantsov, trasformed into a big-ass screeching behemoth with a pair wings. No wonder he chose to marry Nazyalenski. They suit each other.

You absolutely correct about the Ravkan government being pure drama, Wraith. Every single person involved is, at least, part idiotic lunatic. You should be infinitely grateful that most of the Suli don't give two fucks about any of them.

Of course, you noticed a saint in disguise, my clever, clever sneaky Wraith.

Nazyalenski and Lantsov have also sent me an invitation for their wedding, cross your fingers for me, as well. I'll join you there in a while and then we'll judge them together.

Sincerely

Kaz Brekker

[eddieisashifter]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐆? — MY SIX OF CROWS REALITY

after making one of these for my marauders reality (see here!) I've been inspired to make another! this one is a bit different though, because it's more of a utility belt than a bag. but, hey, it's got bags on it so that counts, right? as before, inspired by this post by @chaaistained and this one by @hrrtshape and, most recently, this one by @macknshift!! (y'all's stuff is always beautiful by the way mwah mwah)

this belt bag is a frankenstein creation of a couple things. It originally started as just the big pouch, but then I realized I needed more storage and added a second pouch. then I kept accidently breaking the glass vials I was having wylan make for me and it got everything soaked in poison, which isn't ideal. so I made the little holster for them!

first pocket—left side is the outer pocket and right is the main pocket

OUTER POCKET

𓅂 various makeup products stolen from various sources. two lip balms one from kerch and the other from shu han. both expensive. mascara I stole from poppy that I use occasionally, also doubles as eyeliner. also nina's lipstick that I hold onto for her because she asked me to.

𓅂 a flip out mirror that once was my mothers. one of the few trinkets I have left from my time in ravka

𓅂 a cigarette case that was once kaz's. he said he didn't want it anymore, I think he just wanted me to have something of his to hold onto.

𓅂 gears from wylan's workshop that I kept "accidently" pocketing. they were shiny.

MAIN POCKET

𓅂 my sketchbook. my pride and joy. my precious. it has a place for not only paper, but also slots for all my main pens and pencils all in one place.

𓅂 my other pride and joy. I love this things to death. I first took them to try and I have never regreted it. makes the most beautiful landscape paintings of the view of ketterdam outside kaz's office's window

𓅂 various notes and cards including—a card from a winning hand against jesper, a piece of poetry torn from my sketchbook and slightly crumpled (far too sappy to be consumed without cringing), a postcard from ravka. it might be from my family, I didn't care to check, but didn't have the heart to throw it away. a strength tarot card from nina's deck that she gave me after a reading and a death card from mine that I took out—I'm done with change in my future.

second pocket & weapons

SECOND POCKET

𓅂 a pouch full of kruge coin. there's probably also some bills shoved in there, but the coin just makes a lovely sound.

𓅂 a flask full of the whiskey from kaz's office. no other tastes the same as his.

𓅂 various stolen keys. not sure where they all unlock, but they are very pretty. once again, they were shiny, leave me alone.

𓅂 an ace lighter that someone left at the crow club. too bad, so sad, it's mine now.

𓅂 old dice that are so worn down that you can't make out the numbers very well. I keep them around for the noises.(this is a pattern of mine)

𓅂 my lucky deck of cards, blessed by kaz's sneaky ass magician hands by making my ace of spades disappear. I still havent gotten it back. the deck's still pretty lucky though.

𓅂 a pocketwatch that also used to belong to kaz. he has like three, I doubt he'd miss this one.

𓅂 a few bullets from jesper's gun, also good luck charms, blessed by jesper's unnaturally straight aim (aka fabrikated)

𓅂 a couple lockpicking tools because you never know when you might need them

WEAPONS—some are stored in my belt, others on my person, every single one felt important to include

𓅂 my beloved garrote wire. inej has her saint knives, jesper has his guns, and I have this. I love this one, though it isn't always practical to use, that's where the others come in. however, if I have a choice, this is what I'm reaching for. stored around the edge of my belt, the ends coming together to make a buckle.

𓅂 the only not-weapon here: a lucky dice keychain that jesper gave me. a little ironic, considering his own bad luck at the tables, however they haven't seemed to give me any bad energy yet. clipped onto the loop on my belt.

𓅂 three feather knives that are my treasures. my garrote is always my first choice, however these babies are just as reliable. my first knives when I came to ketterdam, they've never one done me wrong. usually stashed in my boots.

𓅂 a flip out knife that I brought over from ravka with me. I don't remember where it came from, but something tells me it was once important to someone. and now, it's important to me. usually in my inner pocket.

𓅂 my last feather knife that inej gave me from her collection. she said it was her way of protecting me, by giving me one of her saints. sankta margaretha, I think she said was this knife's name. patron saint of thieves and lost children, I believe. fitting. however, I'm not exactly one to believe in the power of the saints. the gesture means more to me though than the name.

[magicandpizza]

omg wesper game less go, love reading these, how abttt 5? Tyy

Here you goooo, have some ✨emotions✨

5. Forehead kisses when feeling vulnerable

“Hey ma,” Jesper says quietly when they come to a stop in front of her cherry tree. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” Without a word, Wylan takes his hand, thankfully not calling Jesper insane for talking to a tree. “This is Wylan. He’s my boyfriend, and also literally the richest man in Ketterdam.” Next to him, he hears Wylan scoff. “But he’s also the smartest person I’ve ever met, and the kindest too, and he makes me so happy.” He swallows thickly to try and clear the lump in his throat. Saints, he wishes his ma were still here. “I think you really would’ve liked him.” 

“Hello Mrs. Hilli,” Wylan murmurs, always so damn Kerch. “I wish we could’ve met. You would be so proud of the man Jesper has become. He never believes me, but he has the biggest heart, and he’s learning how to use his zowa abilities.” Tears prick at the corner of Jesper’s eyes, but Wylan keeps going. “Thank you for putting him on this earth. I promise I’ll take good care of him.” 

Jesper chokes on a sob, pressing a hand to his mouth to quiet himself as Wylan turns to look at him with alarm, expression softening when he realises Jesper is just emotional. 

“Jes…” 

“I’m okay,” Jesper says, wiping at his eyes. “Didn’t realise I’d get so emotional seeing you talk to a tree.” He offers him a watery smile to try and lighten the mood. 

Stepping in close, Wylan holds both of Jesper’s hands in his. “You’re allowed to feel your feelings. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?” 

Jesper rolls his eyes but lets Wylan tug him down so he can kiss his forehead, followed by his tear stained cheeks. He folds himself into Wylan’s arms, slipping a hand around his waist and pressing his face into the crook of his neck. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles eventually. 

“Of course, treasure.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Portrait [K. B.]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k

masterlist

summary: «when you photograph a person in color, you photograph their clothes, when you photograph a person in black and white, you photograph their soul»

taglist: @rustyyyyspoonz @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

Anyone who knew Kaz Brekker well enough could say that he slept with one eye open, metaphorically speaking, so it was no surprise when he was able to notice the extra presence in the room even when he was supposed to have sunk into unconsciousness.

His body still hurt as a result of the altercation he had suffered with an aggressive drunk who was at the Crow Club the night before, but it didn't stop him from sitting up suddenly in search of the knife he kept in the nightstand drawer.

"Calm down," said the stranger's voice, at the same time that the light of a lamp illuminated the panorama. "It's just me."

"What are you doing here?" he was quick to say, looking at you in disbelief.

You didn't have to be in Kerch, but in Ravka, and much less did you have any reason to be in his room.

He noticed that you were wearing one of those second army keftas in scarlet, the one corresponding to your order, and you were looking at him calmly from the other side of the room.

There was a kind smile on your features as you approached him and sat next to him on the mattress, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Saints, what did you do to yourself?” one of your hands reached up to try to touch his face, where it was hurt, and he immediately moved away.

"What are you doing here?"

“Poor thing, does it hurt?” you continued, ignoring his questions.

Kaz wasn't quick enough to escape from your other hand, reaching out to grab his cheek so you could better examine the wounds he had. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as you scooted a little further in his direction, well outside the safe limits for him to be the one you were talking to.

He didn't know what scared him more, the fact that you were touching him or the fact that he didn't dislike it at all.

You said something he didn't understand and then, with your free hand, you began to clean the bruises he felt on his face. It was difficult to describe what he felt every time you used small science to fix him, but it was something similar to feeling a tingling advance through every vein under his skin.

Your movements were attentive and loving, as if you were used to doing them all the time. And you were used to it, but not to doing it with him.

"Why are you here?" he repeated, for the third time.

He could feel your breath close to his face and the hand that was on his cheek had a soft warmth. When you looked at him, he saw that your eyes reflected the dancing flame in the lamp and he asked himself why he had never paid enough attention to them, who at that moment were admiring him tenderly.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Under other circumstances Kaz had already become exasperated by your refusal to respond and would have pushed you away from him in the first place. But he seemed out of himself, as if he weren’t the one acting and much less able to carry out a coherent action.

"On the side. But it's nothing"

"Foolishness. Let me help you"

The black-haired man felt hypnotized, to the point where he didn't even resist when one of your hands slipped under his black silk shirt. He shifted slightly at the calculated movements your fingers made, feeling his skin until you found the point of attention and attended to it. Little by little he felt the burning decrease and he let himself be carried away by the pleasant chill that he experienced every time you cured one of his ailments. He closed his eyes for a moment to surrender to the sensation and suddenly that was replaced by a tide that began to suffocate him.

He was drowning again, among rotting corpses and slimy skins.

"Enough…"

“Shh…” you said at the same time, unwilling to let go and planting your palm firmly “It's okay, Kaz. Everything's fine"

"Let me go"

“No, no, darling. Everything is fine, it's me who touches you…” he could have sworn that your voice was a spell, because he felt incapable of disobeying “Just open your eyes and look at me.”

You were too close to him when he opened his eyes and sure enough, all traces of anxiety disappeared. Your hand traced the same path to the outside of his shirt and then kindly placed itself on his pajama pants. It was a gentle touch.

"What are you doing here?" he insisted. He knew he needed the answer to that question to become aware of something that everything around him was screaming at him, but he still didn't know what it was.

“I came back to take care of you, of course. And because I have missed you so much” you explained simply, using that voice that was making him dizzy.

"But you…"

“I think you should lie down now,” you interrupted him. Kaz was racking his brain for what was wrong with the situation, although he found it difficult to concentrate on anything because of your hand caressing his leg.

"Wait"

“I was wrong to sneak in here so late at night, but I needed to know you were okay,” you continued. “That drunk gave you a lot of trouble, didn't he?”

Something clicked on him. You had not been present at the time, so you couldn't know about the altercation.

“Are you real?” he finally asked.

That was the right question. He shouldn't have been wondering what you were doing like that, but rather whether you were really there.

There was no response, as had already happened, and you just smiled kindly at him.

“I'll help you; I know sometimes you can't sleep.”

Kaz was going to ask something else, but suddenly your hand was placed on his chest and he began to feel his entire body relax. His pace slowed, his eyelids began to feel heavy, and any attempt at logical thought was lost in the void. It was just you, dressed in scarlet and looking at him sweetly from your position on the bed.

“Y/N…”

"Relax, I have deprived you of enough rest" you exclaimed. He couldn't complain because you were taking care of knocking him out to the point where his body was already lying down and you were just a blur. “We'll talk tomorrow, okay?”

He was struggling to stay conscious, to try to understand why he wasn't in a crisis because of how you were touching him, and to understand how you had gotten from Ravka to this point, but your Grisha powers were getting in the way.

Just like that, he was still awake enough when you leaned closer in his direction and, against all odds, brought your face close enough to cover him with a kiss on the lips. Everything in him stirred at the tender and deep touch that you were offering him, with his body unable to resist not only your intervention but also the feeling of peace and security that was overwhelming him.

You continued kissing him for so long that he began to gasp for air and when he wanted to break away to breathe, you continued. And you continued, and continued, until the pleasant warmth that was in him turned into a bonfire that began to burn his lungs.

A bonfire, then water... water that was suddenly drowning him.

A second later Brekker stood up suddenly, again, in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. All the panic exploded at that moment and then he realized what he hadn’t been able to decipher in your presence: it had all been a dream.

He confirmed his theory by getting up from the mattress, his bad leg throbbing with pain, and looked at himself in the smudged mirror he had somewhere. His face still had the same bruises that you had apparently taken care of healing.

He looked in all directions looking for a trace of you, but found nothing. There weren’t even signs that the lamp had been lit. He had been hallucinating everything, there were no further explanations.

“Kaz?” Someone called him and the fear that it was you paralyzed him. “Boss? I'm Jesper. A shipment arrived…”

“I'll be right over,” he half shouted, his voice raspier than normal. The day had barely started and he was already in a bad mood.

Jesper didn't say anything, but the man heard his footsteps receding down the hallway and then he walked to the tub and the water with which he washed himself every day. When he had nightmares, washing his hands was useful to cleanse himself of the guilt that overwhelmed him, but now... his hands would definitely not be enough. It would have been necessary to cleanse his entire mind to the core to get rid of the images.

Why had he dreamed of you? He hadn't heard from you in months. After the group had helped destroy the shadow, King Nikolai and those close to him suggested that, if you wanted it, you would have a place in the eccentric group of Grisha who would help rebuild the second army. Kaz was present when they made you the offer and although you responded that you needed time to think about it, the expressions on your face revealed to him the position you were leaning towards.

He didn't blame you for the decision you made, but he didn't express pleasure either. He knew perfectly well your life story and how, after the death of your entire squad on a spy mission, you had ended up in Kerch. No one from Ravka bothered to look for you and you never bothered to return, since you had discovered that the person who sold the secrets of your entrustment to the Fjerdans had been one of your own Grisha companions. If you couldn't trust them, then who? Furthermore, General Kirigan had made sure to earn your contempt after the inappropriate behavior he had begun to engage in towards you. The fear that something would happen to you under his command was greater than the thought of what would happen if they accused you of being a deserter. In Ketterdam no one knew you, so you could start from scratch as someone different.

Kaz had taken you under his wing after by chance you had been in the same place as them when a fight between gangs had developed and in which Inej (a new arrival to the Dregs) had been mortally wounded; you had helped her when you saw her bleeding in an alley and both she and her two other friends were totally grateful. The rest was history.

Having dreamed of you didn’t represent a problem for him, after all it would only be his subconscious reminding him of your existence, however, what was a problem had been the development of it. Kaz was surprised to think that it had been his own mind that had caused him to construct a fantasy in which you behaved so gently and affectionately, to the point of kissing him on the lips. It hadn't been you, of course, but... him? As the boy washed his hands, seeking some comfort, he wondered if he subconsciously wanted you to do something like that. It couldn't be possible.

You had to admit that he cared about you, like the rest of your friends, although he had never thought of you in any way beyond that of a work colleague. You were a valuable member of the team, he wouldn't have to be imagining that you were sneaking in to look for him in the middle of the night to shower him with attention and kisses. It was just ridiculous.

Still somewhat confused, he tried to push all those thoughts out of his mind and then changed out of his pajamas to go to wherever the shipment that Jesper had mentioned was. He thought that the day's activities would probably help him get rid of that strange bittersweet feeling that your fictitious visit had left him.

“Hey, Kaz, have you heard from Y/N?”

The question Jesper asked while he was signing the receipt for several cases of whiskey threw him off and he swore his friend was asking just to spite him. But he couldn't know about the shameful dream, of course. Neither he nor anyone.

"Nothing. The last letter was sent a week after we returned and since then there has been nothing”

“Oh,” he sighed. He seemed almost disappointed. “What about Inej?”

“I learned that their ship was heading to the Wandering Isle and that thanks to her suggestions the crew is freeing slaves.”

“I miss both,” the boy murmured, quite thoughtful.

Kaz looked at him with that usual annoyed expression and Jesper took it as a scolding for how cheesy he was being. However, Kaz actually felt upset because his friend was reminding him that he was in the same situation.

I've missed you so much, you said in your dream. He began to reflect on whether it had been an internal desire to hear those words that reflected the fact that he was the one who missed you.

“Take those boxes inside and put them in place. If I notice that even one bottle is missing, there will be problems,” he warned him. Normally it wasn't Jesper who was in charge of those tasks, but at that moment what the boss wanted was to get rid of him and his inappropriate comments.

“Where are you going?”

“To some matters” was all the response he offered, before limping off in another direction.

It wasn't entirely true that he would be busy during the day, but he decided it would be better to get away from there to clear his thoughts. Without Inej in the city it was more difficult to obtain any secrets and now the collection of information depended on the girls who had left the menagerie to go work with him, so it didn't hurt to walk around the Barrel from time to time to see what I could find out.

The walk served to keep him busy and sufficiently distracted, at least until midday, when he returned to the Slat to eat something. There he received the news that someone was selling a property near the now renovated Crow Club and then he spent part of the afternoon analyzing how convenient it would be to acquire the property to expand his business.

Every night he liked to go to the club to check that everything was going well and solve any situation that required his attention, like the aggressive drunk had been the night before. Furthermore, he had to make sure that none of his crows got into trouble and above all that Jesper didn't lose more money than he could in gambling. Although of course, he already had Wylan to keep an eye on him.

He regularly spent the entire day in his office, working on other things, and only went out to the games area and the bar if necessary. But something that night, that strange feeling he had since he woke up, made him leave the room where he worked. He began to walk around the bar, from where he could see all the people enjoying the bets and drinks, while he looked for his friends. Normally Nina stayed at the Slat, but Jesper and Wylan manned the door or the bar. That night it was the zemeni's turn to watch and Kaz rolled his eyes when he noticed that he was talking animatedly to a girl, or who he assumed was one; Jesper's body covered the person and he could only see a piece of a scarlet dress.

“Shall I get you something, boss?” the bartender asked the black-haired man, who turned his head to deny.

When Kaz returned his face to the front he felt like he was choking on his own saliva at the pair of people walking happily in his direction.

“Kaz! Look who came to visit us!”

Jesper held your hand and was impatiently pulling you through the sea of people, wanting you to meet your friend as soon as possible. But, contrary to the happiness that could be expected with a reunion, Kaz was pale and looked completely worried.

“Y/N?” he murmured, fearing that you were once again just a figment of his imagination.

“Just this morning I was talking about how much I missed you, wasn't that right, Kaz?” laughed Jesper “And now you’re here!”

"Hello"

"What are you doing here?"

Although he tried not to sound hostile, he didn't quite succeed.

“Saints, what did you do to yourself?” you laughed, taking a moment to look at the aforementioned's wounds. Noticing the parallel with his dream, he felt dizzy and before he could get closer, he had already walked away. “Kaz?”

"It's no big deal. It was just a fight”

“I hope not with him”

“If it had been with me, his face probably wouldn't look like that and my face wouldn't look like that” Jesper pointed out and you laughed, because it was true.

“Do you want me to take care of it?” you suggested kindly. It wasn't a bother at all, nor would it be the first time.

“At another time. We don't want you to draw attention to yourself” the boy took a pointed look around the room in search of strange eyes that were peering into your conversation, but he found nothing. Everyone was minding their own business. “Enough with those clothes.”

"You don’t like?"

“It's not that I don't like it,” he clarified. “It's just that it's hard to take my eyes off you.”

Kaz didn't flirt, but if he did, that phrase would have been the closest thing to trying. He meant that wearing those clothes you looked so pretty that the idea of the men in the club seeing you made him sick, much less did he need them to know that you were a grisha because they would seek to take advantage of you. But saying it out loud would have been inappropriate, so he kept it to himself.

“It's too red, right?” you laughed, without any clue of the intention behind the phrase “A gift from Her Majesty the Queen, by the way. She put one of her tailors at my disposal.”

“Oh là là, girl. Are you sure you want to see us now that you only rub shoulders with fine people?”

“Of course I want to see you, fool. You are like family”

Brekker watched in silence as you leaned your entire body against Jesper, letting him put his arm around you to close the distance to nothing. The dress you wore had a high collar and buttons along the chest, along with sleeves three-quarters of the way up your arms. He immediately thought of the uniforms of the second army (the old ones, since Alina had eliminated the colors that divided Grisha's orders) and again he felt a tingling down his spine when he remembered his dream.

We'll talk tomorrow, okay? you had said. Was that dream a premonition? Or could it be that you had really visited him in the middle of the darkness?

"When you came?"

"Newly. I rented a carriage because Anika told me you were here, when I stopped by the Slat to leave my things.”

“Do you intend to stay?”

"A couple of days. I know I didn’t even ask if I could stay with you, but I figured… well, I can stay, right?”

“Of course you can,” the gunman interrupted, sounding excited.

Kaz continued with a serious expression.

“As long as there are rooms available,” he simply said.

There were and he knew it, so you responded, smiling widely in gratitude. Before either of them could say anything else, Jesper stepped forward:

“Let's go so you can say hello to Wylan, he's taking care of some tables over there.”

With a movement the boy took your hand and turned you towards his direction, away from the black-haired man. Despite the direction you followed with your body, your eyes searched Kaz's gaze in the hope of finding something more than what he had said verbally, although you didn't find it. Your free hand reached out to temporarily wave goodbye to the young man, to which he only responded by bowing his head slightly.

Kaz caught a glimpse of the entire exchange; Wylan threw himself into your arms as soon as he saw you and you welcomed him with joy, even planting a kiss on his cheek that made him laugh. Suddenly, as he watched, he found himself feeling jealous of his friends.

He wasn't like Jesper who could take you by the hand everywhere, nor like Wylan who seemed to love being in your arms. And he knew that Nina, as soon as she knew you were back, wouldn't hesitate to express her affection in the same way. For a second, he reflected that the touch of your skin was a longing that he kept in his heart, well hidden behind all that tide of despair and disgust at human contact.

He also wondered if he wasn't dreaming again, afraid that your return was just another twisted fantasy his mind had fabricated. But it wasn't like that, he could feel everything around him and the smells of the place invaded his nostrils; even his leg burned slightly as a permanent reminder that he was alive.

Kaz took one last glance in your direction, still hypnotized by the bloody tone on your clothes, and considered that it would be best to return to his office to continue with the pending work. A few minutes later you went back to look for him to try to drink something but, unfortunately, you realized that he was no longer there.

Thanks to Jesper and his insistence that you drink everything new in the repertoire of the renewed Crow Club, you arrived much later than expected at the Slat. The Dregs never seemed to sleep, and you knew it was probably because Kaz wanted a twenty-four-hour guard, so when you staggered in one of the new guys greeted you curtly and let you pass.

You and Anika had always gotten along well, so when you arrived hours ago she had placed you in the largest room the place had, next to where Inej had once been and down the hall from Kaz's office and bedroom.

You had to admit that your friend's reaction to your arrival had left you somewhat worried, because although it was to be expected that the black-haired man wouldn’t show great joy, you felt that something about your visit had made him uncomfortable. You had probably taken too many liberties in assuming, without consulting him, that you were still welcomed and thought you had to talk to him about it.

When you went to your room you noticed that his light was still on and since the alcohol didn't let you think too well, you convinced yourself that it would be a good idea to visit him despite the schedule. Before going to your task you made sure to search through your suitcase for a couple of things that you had brought from Ravka especially for Kaz and while you did so you tried to shake off the guilt that invaded you when you saw that almost all of your belongings were back in Ketterdam. You hoped that by talking to him he would be able to understand, otherwise you didn't know what you would do from now on.

You snuck down the hallway with bare feet and one of your hands busy, until you arrived in front of the half-open door.

"Busy?" you asked, peering around the frame as you tapped the moth-eaten wood a couple of times.

Kaz was sitting at his desk and only raised his head from the papers scattered across it because he recognized your voice as the one calling him. He seemed exhausted, as if thinking was consuming his entire life.

“A bit. Did you just arrive?”

“Yes,” you laughed, cringing with some shame. Kaz looked you up and down and noticed that your dress, previously so neat and pretty, looked slightly disheveled, although it didn't lose its beauty. Your hair was also less combed than at the beginning “Can I come in?”

The man responded by nodding his head and followed your steps in silence, until you dropped into the chair in front of his desk; he noticed that you were carrying a prominent package in your hands. Your gaze held his for a few seconds, reminding him that you were one of the few people who weren’t afraid to face his discerning eyes and he observed the shine in your orbs accompanied by your blushing cheeks, clear evidence of your drunkenness.

"What do you need?"

“I wanted to know how you are,” you murmured sincerely “In case you wanted me to help with... you know”

It was clear that you were referring to the state of his face. As a healer, part of your job was to detect people's ailments, and boy did Kaz have several. Only what was visible revealed that he had probably been unable to sleep for days, let alone eat. His mental state had never been the most appropriate, but in that space your gift, nor your help, had no place.

“You worry too much sometimes.”

"It looks bad. And it probably hurts.” You slurred a couple of words, but it was still understandable enough. “Let me help you.”

Kaz visibly tensed at your choice of words, immediately remembering the woman from his dreams who had said the same thing, and wishing he could erase those memories. He didn't even realize he hadn't responded until you caught his attention.

"Alright"

With some extra effort to not trip over your own feet, you moved to the other side of the table and squatted down from a safe distance; then, in that position and without touching him directly, you began the appropriate hand movements for healing. The fear of invasion of his personal space immediately dissipated and, just like in his dream, he felt better as he experienced that familiar tingling in his body when you tended to his wounds.

Once you finished, you remained calm for a moment and he felt nervous at the emotions that he couldn't decipher in your eyes. The intoxication visibly relaxed your features so that all the time you were smiling sweetly at him.

"Better?"

“Mhm,” he responded with a hum, fearing that if he opened his mouth his secrets would begin to spill out.

Of course he felt better, as always when you used your skills on him, not only physically but also mentally. It had been so long since he had seen you in his office that he thought he would eventually forget about the feeling, so having you back there felt strangely reassuring.

“I have something I want to show you.”

Wanting not to make your friend uncomfortable, you stood up from your seat, holding on to the desk to avoid falling, and willing to stay as long as Kaz could stand, you returned to your place in front of the desk. Once you took back the package that you had left on the chair, you began to unwrap it to take out one of the objects it contained. He carefully observed the maneuver, realizing that it was a black cardboard box with silver details and even a small bow on the edge, which you left right in front of him.

"What is this?"

"A gift. I brought it from Ravka.”

Kaz's look expressed some confusion at the unexpected gift and he took special care as he opened the box with one of his gloved hands, like someone who fears finding misfortune inside.

“Chocolates?”

“I know you like them,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders “You know, something sweet to counteract the bitterness you have in your character.”

“Looks like visiting your hometown made you funnier, huh?”

“Try one” you suggested excitedly and even though he wanted to do it, the boy didn't have the heart to refuse.

He chose a piece of dark chocolate and when he put it in his mouth, he took the time to savor the treat. Although he wasn’t nostalgic, he was overcome by the distant memory of the hot chocolate that Jordie had once bought him. He hadn't tried that flavor in a long time, and the slight expressions of satisfaction on his face revealed that you had chosen a good gift. He would make sure not to abuse it, but it would be difficult now that he had remembered the delight it represented.

"And? How does it taste?”

“Delicious” he concluded. Sounded sincere and that made you smile.

The night had already embraced Ketterdam and you could see some stars through Kaz's open window, through which a gentle wind blew through the curtains. The landscapes of Ravka had conquered you the moment you set foot there, but you had to admit that you had greatly missed the salty, dirty air of the island that welcomed you when all seemed lost. Even the Slat looked better, although that was perhaps due to the excellent income that the new and renovated Crow Club had.

But more than a physical space, the affection you felt for the place was due to the people who lived there. When you arrived, it was painful not to find comfort in the arms of your friend Inej and you wondered if any of your friends had missed your presence in that way; the effusive hugs combined with the clear joy of the group let you know that this was the case. Kaz was the only one who remained reluctant to any intense display of feelings, although not for the reasons you thought.

"What were you doing?"

“Some accounts,” he sighed bitterly. “This week wasn't the best.”

Anything related to money, for better or worse, was an easy topic of conversation for the black-haired man. He liked to talk about profits, the best bets, investments for the future, and possible traps to gain an advantage. So, knowing that it was a subject he liked, you let him talk.

Through this he gave in and became more and more talkative to answer the questions you asked him, no longer only related to the Crow club. You were able to tell him about the little palace, about the coronation that had taken place a few months ago, about your support for the reconstitution of the Grisha units and about all the policies that the king and queen consort intended to apply.

Kaz listened with surprising attention and when you least expected it, the two of you were already chatting as if the time you were apart had never existed. You liked seeing him this relaxed, it was something that often happened when you guys got together for drinks. You suspected that while you were stuffing alcohol down your throat in public, he had been doing it in private.

“And are you happy there?” he asked suddenly “In Ravka”

You weren’t expecting a question of that type and deep in the lines you wanted to think that you had heard some suspicion in his voice about the possible answer.

"I think so"

“More than here?” he insisted. It was a difficult question, so you took a moment to think about it.

“I think not happier, but… I live better. There are no robberies, no fights between gangs, I have three meals a day every day” you began, smiling slightly at him “But deep down I don't feel happier. I feel like it's all very right, very... fake might be the word? As if a mistake were fatal around so many apparently good people. And it will sound silly, but I think I miss the bad life of the Barrel a little”

“You miss the danger”

“Oh no, we have that in Ravka too. But it doesn't give me the same adrenaline. You know, running away in fear because Jesper had done something stupid, Inej bringing bad news, you resorting to plan Z after the other 25 failed… Do you think I'm crazy?”

“Not at all,” he murmured. “It makes sense that without us your life would be boring.”

A skeptical expression settled on your face.

“Did you just joke or did I hear wrong? Did my absence make you funnier?”

“I've always been funny. And it wasn't a joke, it's a fact."

And with that, your laughter appeared, because it was much easier to make people laugh when you were drunk. The sound filled Kaz's chest with a warmth worthy of shame, especially for him, and tried to ignore the rushes of his heart, hoping you would do the same. You had long ago claimed that you never listened to his heartbeat unless it was necessary, although right now he didn't know if that promise still stood.

He even feared that somehow after your visit to the palace you had obtained powers beyond his understanding and were able to read in his thoughts those dreams he had had before your arrival. The rational part of him knew it was impossible, but the mere idea embarrassed him.

"I guess you're right. “Life becomes monotonous when you no longer have the presence of your manic boss.”

Those words would have earned at least a warning punch from his new cane. But he could forgive your insolence if it meant keeping you in a good mood and, above all, keeping him company.

The movement of your body when you laughed made you aware that you still had an object resting on your legs, which had taken a backseat to the fluidity of the talk. Kaz saw your expression light up when you remembered that you had that mysterious package and then you placed it on the table, carefully unfolding the white piece of cloth that wrapped it.

"What is that?"

“The most wonderful thing you will ever see” Kaz knew about your tendency to exaggerate things, so he tried not to expect too much. “It's the prototype of some Fabrikators in the little palace, it was used on the coronation day. I took it borrowed"

“You stole it”

“I took it borrowed” you repeated seriously, although from your friend's amused face you knew that he didn't believe you “Because I wanted you to see it”

It looked like a strange device, with a lens similar to that of a telescope, but placed in the center of a rectangle and below it a long, linear opening. At the top there was some kind of button. Everything was in black and looked like nothing the boy had ever seen.

“And what is it supposed to do?” He asked, scanning it with his eyes for any clue.

“I could explain it to you, but I'm going to show you. Okay, I take this like this” you began to explain, putting the artifact between you and Kaz. The lens was pointed in his direction “And it's going to sound strange, but I need you to smile.”

“I'm not going to smile”

“It is strictly necessary! Otherwise it won't work."

You were a terrible liar, Kaz had always been aware of that, so he just watched you seriously from his chair.

“Can you at least remove that expression?” you insisted, smiling at your friend in hopes that there was some mimicry on his part. “Please?”

“If you're going to show me, just do it”

“Sweet, always so sweet” you complained out loud and resigned to the fact that that grimace was the only one he would show you, you pointed in his direction to press the button.

A flash of light coming from who knows where threw Kaz off and a few seconds later he watched half a square of paper emerge from the opening in the device. You still had an excited smile on your face as you grabbed the edge of the product with your fingertips.

The boy was too proud to admit that he was curious when you gently shook the sheet, so he just kept watching your movements from his spot for a few minutes. He wasn't prepared for you to drag the chair you were sitting in to the other side of the desk, leaving you a short distance away from him.

"Ready? Ta-dah!”

You happily extended the paper to him and saw his expression of genuine amazement when he could see himself on it. It wasn't even like a drawing, but rather an exceptionally detailed portrait in black and white. Seeing his astonishment you continued:

“Imagine how this would work if you focused it on criminal activities. Heists, if you want to spy on someone, to keep a graphic record of the people who are after your head, whatever you want!” you started, excited “Do you see how much detail it can capture in a second? It can even be used to spy from afar and once you get back here count how many people were talking, who they were, if you want proof of someone making deals…”

Your words were interrupted by an unexpected sound. You highly doubted that you had ever heard Kaz laugh, beyond those ironic sighs he was used to, which is why the laughter froze you completely. You only needed to turn to look at him to reveal your expression; a combination of amazement and fear.

“You will always be a crow, won't you?”

You, too, could detect a mix of emotions in his words, from clear amusement to pride in knowing he was right. It was a forceful declaration: that no matter how many palaces you toured, no matter how many alliances you made, no matter how patriotic those Ravkans wanted to become, you would always belong to the life of the Barrel and, therefore, to the peculiar family that lived in the Slat.

“Please never laugh in my presence again. It's the scariest thing I've ever heard in my life."

The second sigh of amusement was less enthusiastic but more enjoyable for you, even if it was a brief sound that you would try to preserve in your memories. If it wasn’t common to hear him laugh, it was much less common to be the cause of it.

“I must admit that I am quite impressed. You are right to think that it would be very useful for illicit activities.”

“Keep it”

“Didn't you say you borrowed it?”

“You know I was lying”

“And what will your Grisha friends think of this?”

“They'll manage just fine, don't worry. We will put it to better use”

With that, the two of you exchanged a small, but meaningful, knowing look. Kaz still had his portrait in his hands and you replaced it with the device, taking care not to invade too much of his personal space as you knew he hated so much.

“But I will keep this.”

"And what exactly do you want it for?"

“This way I can take you with me wherever I go” your words were sincere and behind them, a clear affection “I like it, you even look… not angry”

“The light disconcerted me”

“I still don’t understand how that works, but we can ask Jesper to fix it,” you suggested gently, trying to make him feel less embarrassed. The truth was that he looked very handsome and his eyes shone the color of the ocean. A beautiful ocean, far from Kerch “Do you want one?”

"One what?"

"A picture. One of mine, of course. That way we would be even”

“I'm not the sentimental type.”

“I know,” you sighed with resignation, “But I am. That's why I'll keep you here."

Kaz watched you put the paper in the pocket inside your coat, on the side of your heart, and he didn't think of anything prudent to respond to that. You would have heard the erratic beating of his heart if you had not been so busy with the rumble of yours.

"I…"

“Kaz also came because I want to talk about something important,” you interrupted him, because you probably wouldn’t have the courage to do it later “Can I?” you asked and he nodded.

Being so close, the smell of liquor that you emanated and that which he emanated combined slightly, during a few torturous seconds of silence. Suddenly the cheerful atmosphere had died down and although Kaz was not an impatient person, the alcohol had slightly clouded his senses.

"What is it?"

“My time here… is not intended to be just a visit”

Were you going to leave him? Was it a farewell then? Maybe that was why you had insisted on taking a portrait of him, one that you would look at from time to time and it would become a distorted blur of a distant time. A ghost.

“And what else would it be?”

There was silence for a moment.

“A permanent stay. If there is still room for me”

During the previous months he had convinced himself to accept that two of his best friends had left to pursue the idea of a better life, away from the hustle and bustle of the barrel, and to some extent he had come to digest the fact. But now the possibility of having you back with him was there and honestly, the most selfish part of him was happy that the little palace hadn't been enough for you.

“Is this a free choice or is there some particular reason that forces you to return here? It's not that it bothers me, but I just… I have to be aware to take my precautions”

“I come clean and of my own free will,” you said, raising both hands. “The King and the queen didn’t take it in the best way, but they did not refuse either.”

“And what is the reason for this sudden change of mind?”

“It wasn't sudden, months passed”

“But you were very convinced that you wanted to stay there.”

Kaz's principles and character made it impossible for him to admit that he had been hurt by your decision to remain in Ravka, but he was, and the subtle venom in the phrase made you aware of this.

“I liked the idea of becoming someone useful. All that fantasy of improving the country, a decent life for the Grisha, fulfilling a purpose, and blah, blah, blah. I think I got a little carried away by the fact that there was a living Saint in the palace and thought... that things would be different. A part of me wanted to feel that this was my place in the world because all my life I dreamed of training hard and reaching the second army, wearing those colored keftas, serving the nation” your voice became sarcastic and you put some quotes in the air “It was most disappointing to feel so out of place being there”

“And you want to go back to street fighting then?”

"Oh no. Now that you are the owner of practically half a Barrel, I highly doubt that anyone will want to mess with me. And the whiskey you serve at the club is a delight worth staying for” again you observed the closest thing to amusement in his features and that made you smile “So what do you say? Do you think the services of a healer are still useful to you?”

“As you just illustrated, fights are less common now. But I'll find something to keep you busy."

“Let's face it, I just healed you. Fights will probably be less common for me, but not for you” you laughed “And at some point you will be grateful for having me here”

Kaz would appreciate having you with him even if you were just hanging out at the Slat or the club. Your absence had only managed to show him how much he could miss you.

“I have to maintain my reputation”

“Yes, but it would be a shame if a bad blow ruined that pretty face”

The boy was aware that his face was already full of scars, spots, and wrinkles from frowning so much, that's why his expression hardened upon hearing your words. He didn't hate your compliments, but it wasn't like he believed them either.

"Go away. You're drunk and I need to work."

Despite the tone of voice, there was a certain affection hidden in those words and you decided to focus on that. You stood up to put the chair back in place and an urge to hug Kaz came over you. However, you knew you had to refrain if you didn't want to end up thrown to the other side of the room.

“Thank you for letting me stay. I'll try not to make too much of a fuss”

That was also a lie, he knew perfectly well the chaos you caused in the company of Jesper and that it would only be a matter of time before it appeared. Still, he nodded to indicate that he was giving you a vote of confidence. You headed towards the door.

“I'm glad you're back,” he said, as you were about to leave. You were afraid you were imagining it, so you turned to look at him.

Both of you wanted to say that you had missed each other, but the intention was lost in the volatility of the air around you.

“Rest, Kaz. If you need anything, look for me, okay?”

The fact that you were now in the same building, a few rooms away, provided the boy with indescribable tranquility.

And when he saw you leave he kept thinking that maybe one day, with enough effort, that strange dream he had could become a reality. For now, it only remained to say that knowing that your return home had been to stay, made his heart feel full again.

[petertingle-yipyip]

STRANGER (iv) -KAZ BREKKER

tags: @beekeepingageissome @shadowzena43 @nikfigueiredo @mp-littlebit @starmansirius @hadesnumber1daughter // previously / next

Pairing: Kaz x Davina Rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 6,626

Summary: The Bastard of the Barrel faces off with the Snake. On neutral ground, the start of the potential alliance shines through. The only problem is if it can cut through the tension.

You slammed Kaz against the wall hard. Maybe harder than you needed to. The impact shifted the hat he wore and you wanted to smack it off his head. You twisted the fistful of his jacket for a tighter grip. Your forearm was pressed against his chest and your knuckles were pressing at the high collar of the button-up under the jacket.

Your other hand was firmly against his mouth. Your fingers were pressing into his cheek, feeling the presence of a faded scar on his skin and the hammering pulse in his veins. You could feel his shallow breathing, both from the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the exhales from his nose.

He was rigid under your pressure. His arms were locked at his side, a death grip on his cane that you thought would snap it in half. His eyes were bigger than dinner plates and it was as if he was trying to become one with the wall behind him.

“Are you insane?” You hissed. “Lions prowl the Barrel more than you and the Crows. You call me that and it could very well end with a bullet in my chest.”

He said nothing, but it felt like he was trembling.

“Yes, it’s not nice when someone else has you pinned.” You continued. “I ought to rid myself of you right now.”

More silence, as if he had shut down.

You rolled your eyes and released his jacket. You reached under your cloak and freed your knife, holding it against his throat instead.

“Will you speak now, hmm?” You taunted. “Or have you forgotten your Kerch?”

It may have been the clouds hiding the sun, or the depth of the alley you ducked into, but you were convinced you had seen his eyes go glassy as if he were fighting tears. His breathing had grown faster, shallower. You worried his heart may give out.

What had you done?

All the Saints, Davina, how did you break him?

“Kaz?” Your brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

His eyes darted to the hand on his mouth before back to your eyes. You saw a thin sheen of sweat beginning across his features so you carefully withdrew both your hands. You put them up in surrender, or maybe apology, and took a step back.

His eyes closed and you saw the heavy sigh of relief. He tilted his head back against the brick and he slid down, dropping to the unceremonious thud. His cane clattered lightly beside him and he pulled his hat off, holding it tightly between his gloved hands.

Carefully, you knelt in front of him. You swallowed your nerves as you put your knife away. You shifted your position so your back was more towards the streets and you adjusted your hood so your face was more visible.

You hesitated, both wondering what was happening and how you were supposed to react. You could tell that he was losing himself in thoughts, something haunted, but how were you supposed to bring him back to the present?

Or felt like you were caught in some intimate moment, some vulnerable instance that you were never meant to see.

You considered the childish nickname you had for him. It would be easy enough to say, but you wanted to at least pretend you had maintained your secret identity. 

“Brekker?” You tried instead but he wouldn’t open his eyes. You reached for his arm, to try and place a comforting hand, but he jerked his limb away from your touch as soon as your hand touched his sleeve. “What’s…”

“Do not touch me.” He bit out and you nearly flinched.

“Is there any way I can help?”

“Keep talking.” He said tightly. “Please.”

“If this is some ploy to get me to give you intelligence on the snakes.” You snapped.

“It isn’t, Vina…”

Vina. The nickname he decided he would use instead of Davi. It hit your chest like an anvil and you sucked in a gasp. You were equal parts glad he still remembered and surprised he used it.

“Fine…” You forced out and nodded, buying time to think about what to say. “Well, I’ve been thinking of learning Ravkan. I think language is the one thing I hadn’t had a tutor for as a child. Saints, that sounds terrible, like I were a merchant’s daughter.” You wrinkled your nose in disgust. Not that your true parentage was much better.

“Oh but I do wish I had a tutor for more grace, to move and float like the Suli. Their abilities on the high wire or the trapeze are just magical, don’t you think?”

What were you supposed to say? You had no idea what else to yammer about so you simply pretended you were just two people catching up, and in a way, maybe you were.

“Not to say I can’t stick a landing or a balance across a parapet, but I feel as if it’s just amateur. Perhaps I’m being overly critical of myself.” You shrugged. “I am self-taught in most regards, which is impressive if I say so myself, but dammit all if I cannot do some of the tricks the Wraith can do. I envy her for that.”

Among other things, like Dirtyhands’ favor.

No. Even though you had silenced it, the little voice wouldn’t stay away long.

“You envy the Wraith?” He finally spoke. His voice was tight, like an elastic pulled too tight, and rough like it had been dragged across East Stave. His eyes were finally open, though he was staring blankly at the wall across from him.

“She moves with such grace and fluidity.” You confessed. “Such sure-footedness. It’s as if she’s never questioned where to step or where she’s going.”

“You say that as if you don’t.”

“I know what I want.” Mostly. “But I’m not sure if it will be all I want.”

“What is it that you want?”

Looking at Kaz, with that brief crack in his armor, it made you reconsider what you had told Melli earlier. There is nothing between Kaz and I. And she was right, he was very pretty. But it also reminded you of something else. Kaz was just a man, and all men could fall.

You didn’t want that, though. At least, you didn’t think you did.

“That seems to be the question, other than to see my father’s empire burn, of course.” You nodded. “What just happened to you?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, Hood.” He said flatly. You could tell there was the intent of anger in the words, cool danger that was supposed to threaten, but it was missing. Maybe purposefully so. “Why are you visiting Zenik?”

“For a chat.” You shrugged. If he wanted to switch personas, you could too. “She makes me laugh, and given the life I choose to lead, I could use it.”

“And the boy?”

“Who I choose to tumble is none of your concern.” You snapped, pushing to your feet, and noticed he looked as if you had struck him. The expression was quick and you had nearly missed it. You stepped over his outstretched legs and reached down, picking up his cane and tossing it between your hands. “I could ask why you’re shadowing me and what you hope to learn, assuming you don’t have everything figured out already, but I won’t. Because unlike you, my friend, I can see when I’ve hit a wall I cannot yet beat down.”

You offered a hand to help him up but he batted it away. You made a face to yourself and turned your attention to some imaginary lint on your cloak while he worked to stand. Once he was on his feet, you handed the cane back and you noticed his purposeful avoidance of your hands.

“Have you been to your new business venture recently?” Kaz asked. A casual enough question, but a question from Kaz was never simple. Every inquisition was a loaded blow, ready to strike for information.

“No.” You confessed, pulling your hood down to hide in the shadows it created. “I intended to stop by later. Why? What have you done?”

“Do you think me so underhanded that I wouldn't give you a day to enjoy your purchase?”

“Well, considering it has been a day since, yes.”

“Your gambling hall is unscathed.” He shrugged and you glared at him. “But there is a neat little message waiting for you.”

“Is this some coy way of saying that you’ve repainted the facade with blood?” You asked wearily. “Or you’ve hung Dime Lions from the gutters?”

“Now that would be a sight, wouldn’t it?” His eyes shone with the thought. “But alas, I haven’t.”

“Then what’s the message?”

“Well, that’d spoil it.” He feigned a frown and you thought of stomping on his meticulously polished shoe. “The Wraith went through all the effort to deliver it herself.”

“Now I’m sure it’s a body. If it’s not Pekka Rollins, you can take it back.”

He smiled at the idea and it was a smile of pure malice. That was who the Barrel knew as Dirtyhands, and that was a man you could fear. However, you maintained composure and showed no sign of backing down.

“Or maybe it’s the ring.” Your eyes caught on the flash of silver chain around his neck. You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have thought you one for sympathy, Dirtyhands.”

“Clearly you don’t know me the way you think, Hood.” He waved a hand.

You made a small noise of disagreement and shrugged your shoulders. He cut you a sideways glance and you saw his hands shifted over the crow’s head of his cane. You thought of the weight it carried when it banged into your ribs, the precision he used to slice your cheek, the all over danger the adorned stick held.

“You should know…” You began, backing out of the alley. “If you speak at all on that name and my appearances again, I’ll have to cut out your tongue.”

“Is that right?” He asked in amusement, as if he were playing a game with a toddler.

“Yes, quite. I’ll cut it out, shove it down your treacherous throat, and then I’ll slit your neck open and watch you choke on your tongue and drown in your own blood.” You threatened. “What a sight that would be, hmm? Oh, and then I’ll dump your body at the Wraith’s feet.”

“I can only imagine what she’d do in return.” He mocked, feigning a shiver. “Besides, I could give you the same warning for what you’ve seen here.”

“But you won’t?” You asked hesitantly.

As he walked by you, he tapped the crow’s head against your arm in some sort of silent message. You nearly pulled a blade on him, or at the very least stuck your foot out to trip the bastard.

But you did nothing. Once he was out of sight, you let out a long sigh. You had no idea what was going on anymore, but you did know one thing. You had to figure out what was waiting for you at the gambling hall, courtesy of the Dregs.

When Kol met you outside, his eyes were alight from using his powers. He was grinning, rubbing his fingers together as if they were covered in something you couldn’t see, and the excitement was radiating off him. You brought him with you to retrieve the message before returning to your building.

You brought it to your office and called Melli in. She insisted Kol stay. She said that you needed more people in your inner circle than just her and a Corporalnik was as good as anyone. You waved a hand and dropped in your chair while she opened the door and called him back in.

Your cloak was still fitted in place and your arms crossed under the dark fabric, hood still sitting low on your forehead. You stared silently at the envelope, seeing your name across the front in a tall, slanted script. You doubted it was the Wraith’s or Haskell’s. No, something about the letters told you it was Kaz who wrote it.

You shivered.

“You’re staring at it like it will speak to you.” Melli commented.

“Or like it’s going to bite her.” Kol joked.

“Maybe it will.” You answered flatly. “You never know for sure what Dirtyhands is up to.”

“Don’t you?” Melli teased but you refrained from turning a glare on her. You heard her huff a loud sigh. “Oh for Saint’s sake, Dav, you can take the hood off. You look like you’re part of that cult.”

“A cult?” Your eyes came up.

“There’s rumors of a small cult in Ravka, devoted to the Starless One… The Darkling.” Kol filled in, a deep frown settling across his usually bright features. “They think he should be named a Saint.”

You reached up and pushed back the hood with both hands and Kol gave you a thankful smile. You nodded slightly and used a finger to spin the envelope. You pushed it towards Melli and she took it with greedy fingers.

“They’re demanding a meet at the Exchange.” She read, her eyes moving along the words, paper gripping in both hands. “Three days from deliverance of the letter, but there’s no exact date. Otherwise they’ll protest the sale of the gambling den.”

“Of course.” You sighed. “It’s my understanding the Wraith delivered it last night, meaning today is one day since.”

“So the night after tomorrow.”

“Hand it here.” You held a hand out and Melli handed you the note. You read it over, noting the specifics of his wording. “He’s calling for me to show up…”

“You as in Davina or you as in the Hood?”

“It says ‘The Snake’ so I’m guessing Davina.” You tossed the paper to your desk and ran a hand down your face. “Kol, how well can you Tailor?”

“Small changes, usually last a few hours.” He gave a small, almost apologetic shrug.

“Good enough.”

“What are you thinking?” Melli chimed in.

“It calls for me, but it doesn’t say to come as I am.” You smiled slightly. “Kol, you’ll Tailor me to look more like my father, as close a resemblance as you can.”

“I’ve never seen your father.” He shook his head.

“I have a family miniature around here somewhere.” You waved a hand. “Melli? Would you be willing to be Tailored to look closer to me as I am now?”

“To be the Hood.” She understood, though she paled at the idea. “Wouldn’t you want your cloak? As protection?”

“I have the other armor. I won’t make you do this if you don’t want to.”

“I just worry that Brekker will know.” She reached for the cuff of her long sleeve before freezing and folding her hands neatly behind her back. “He may not believe the illusion.”

“He has no proof to make any accusations. And I’ve already given you my word, Melli. I won’t let him harm you.” You hoped honesty came across in your expression. “Besides, an untrained Heartrender may be just as dangerous as a trained one.”

Kol stood a little straighter. “I’ll protect you both as best I can.”

“As kind as that is, let’s hope we won’t need it. I believe there’s no weapons in the courtyard, so that may deter any idiotic ambushes.”

“Didn’t you say the cane was what gave you that scar? If he brings that, he has a weapon.” Melli argued.

“Yes.” You answered carefully. “But I can try to hide a blade or two. Worst case scenario, I’m caught and Stadwatch takes them.”

“Very confidence inspiring, thank you.” Melli grumbled.

“You can tell me no. I won’t be offended.”

“Can I think on it?”

“Of course. Let me know the morning of… And do we still have the paperwork to rename the den?”

“Yes, in my room.” She nodded.

“I don’t think we’ll name it Sixth Sense. It’s too niche.”

“What then?”

“Poisoned Rook.” You shrugged.

“A rook is a crow.” Kol commented.

“Exactly.” You smiled. “If it’s in Dreg territory, why not make it a jab at them?”

“I like it but wouldn’t it anger them?” Melli asked.

“Very likely, but that’s the point. Mel. And we’ll commission someone to design a crow being caught by a snake, maybe even bitten by the snake.”

You noticed their concerned expressions.

“This summons is a show of force, an attempt to bully us. They have us outnumbered and they know it.” You explained. “But I am my father’s daughter and if it means anything, it means that I will not be pushed around by Kaz Brekker.”

“I like that fire in your eyes.” Kol said with a mischievous smile of his own.

The days came and went and you were seated in your office while Kol did his work. Your scalp tingled as the color of your hair changed and it bunched itself into tighter curls. You saw from your peripherals the dark, shadowed red turning to a burnt copper color, as if it was mixing your mother’s and father’s color. His fingers brushed your cheeks and bridge of your nose to adorn scattered freckles. He adjusted your brows and lashes to match in hair color and he even shifted your eye color. Small changes to your face shape, rounded cheeks like your childhood and a different curve of your lips.

You almost didn’t recognize yourself when you caught your reflection.

“Kaelish features in all their glory.” You rolled your eyes, fitting your protective vest into place. “Do you want to change anything on yourself?”

“No.” He shook his head, a confident look in his eyes.

“Alright.” You nodded. “Melli will be seeing to the name change paperwork so without her, they’re likely to ask about the Hood. Do not answer them, for anything really. I’m not sure who Brekker will bring, so be ready for anything.”

He nodded and you two were on your way. You made it to the Exchange at about the same time Kaz did. The posted Stadwatch nodded you through after a brief glimpse over your persons.

He didn’t find the retractable blade cuffed around your wrist or the thinner knife stashed in your boot.

You wore no mask, deciding your Tailored features were enough. You cleared your throat and dawned your best Kaelish accent.

“Pleasure to see you boys.” You nodded to them, noticing only Kaz and Jesper showed up. “What, no Wraith tonight? Or is she watching from above?” You glanced to the rooftops, Kol kept his eyes trained on Kaz.

“No need.” Kaz said simply, though there was a slightly puzzled look in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me I’m not worth the trouble anymore.”

“This is a friendly chat after all, Davina. Besides, you don’t have your Hood.”

“Forgive me, but you seem different.” Jesper cut in, eyeing your red hair carefully. “I swear on all the Saints your hair was darker.”

“Bit of Tailoring is all.” You shrugged. “It’s not as if my father isn’t recognizable and I’m trying to build something to take him down. I can’t exactly do that if I’m his spitting image, can I?”

“So you’re Tailored now or you were before?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kol bit out.

“Now, now.” Kaz clicked his tongue in disappointment and you noticed he sported a plain walking stick instead of the crow-topped cane he usually used. “You may want to keep your little guard dog on a tighter leash.”

“I suggest you try not to piss him off then.” You countered smoothly. “He bears no Snake.”

“He stands at your side, doesn’t he?”

“What business, Brekker? You leave a note like a spook and then dance around your demands.” You pressed. “You let your friend do all the talking for you?”

Kaz took a step forward and you did the same. Jesper hesitantly reached for his friend before he thought better of it. Kol didn't move.

“I could say the same for you, Snake.” Kaz answered. His eyes flicked across your face and you saw him examining the new features you sported. He made a face when he got the freckles.

“What. Business.” You repeated, adding more force to your words.

“The gambling den you’ve acquired is in Dreg territory.” He began, tapping his stick with his words like a metronome keeping beat. “Before, Haskell let it go because Rollins was the owner.”

“Yes, dear old Dad was very proud of the ‘thorn in Haskell’s side’ that the place was.”

“Ten percent a week.” Kaz said flatly, all business at that moment.

“If Haskell wants money he could’ve bought it out sooner. What’s the real point of this attempted tax?”

“Profit.”

“Papa said the place was a pisspot, hardly any profit to be made.”

“Why’d you buy it then?”

“To piss you off, clearly.” You smiled. “And a jab at Rollins. Six percent a week or ten percent a fortnight.”

“We aren’t here to barter, Dear.” Kaz shook his head. “Ten a week.”

You itched to flick out the blade but you held back.

“The Kerch love to barter.” You said instead and gestured to the large building of the Exchange behind you. “Their patron is all about profit and you’re no better. I see your game.”

“Do you?”

“You want to try to drain my coffers so we’ll need to come to you for aid.” You scoffed. “Eight a week.”

“Ten.”

“No.”

You saw the flash of Jesper’s pistol handles at his hips.

“As I said last time.” You spoke to Jesper over Kaz’s shoulder. “Never unarmed are we, Fahey?”

He grinned, fingers grazing his pistols affectionately, before you turned back to Kaz.

“You want to catch us in some short-sticked deal that gives you power over us.” You said simply. “I may not have the numbers of the Dregs or your experience, Dirtyhands, but I’ve watched my father enough to know better. Ten every fortnight.”

“Fifteen a fortnight.”

“All of the Saint’s.” You groaned and ran a hand down your face. “What will you offer us in return? You’re biding time, for either some dramatic reveal or some alleged last chance offer to force my hand. What is it?”

You felt the back of Kol’s hand tap yours, an unspoken question that you ignored.

“Your lives.” Kaz shrugged.

“You can’t kill us here.”

“That won’t stop us as soon as you step out the Exchange.”

“Kaz.” Jesper tried but Kaz held up a gloved hand. “This wasn't the plan.”

“I think it was.” Kol spoke firmly. “Dirtyhands doesn’t offer fair deals.”

“He’s a quick study, isn’t he?” Kaz spoke with faux admiration and you gave him a sarcastic expression. “Tell me. How goes it with Nina, hmm?”

“She’s a very lovely woman.” Kol gave a small bow. “I enjoyed our time.”

“Leave him be.” You cut in with a raised hand of your own. “We came here to make a deal, Brekker, so let’s make it. Tell me what you really want from me and my snakes, then I’ll consider what percentage of the Rook’s profit you can hold.”

“The Rook?” Jesper asked, ignoring the look Kaz gave him.

“Well, the Poisoned Rook to be exact.” You smiled and Kaz’s glare turned to you. “An omen of a bird to some, but it’s simply homage to the gang that lets us make a nice little den there. And the poison is, of course, a snake bite.”

“Clever.” Jesper nodded, his weight shifting between feet as his finger drummed the handles of his pistols. “But not very nice.”

“Or smart.” Kaz bit out.

“You know what they say, worthless parents makes stupid kids.” You shrugged and flicked your hair over shoulder but you couldn’t ignore the way the tension had risen in the square.

You were suddenly highly aware of Kaz’s body language. His shoulders were set, head high and challenging. Both hands rested atop the cane, fingers twitching and tapping. You liked that you were grating his nerves, wearing him down to something, but you didn’t know if you really wanted to see what that something was.

Kol was a solid presence beside you. He was less than a step behind you and his arm brushed yours. There was a jittery feeling from him, as if his powers were crawling to the surface with a demand to be released. To be released at your command.

“I’d like to reach a deal tonight, Brekker.” You gave a small nod. “We all know you are a man that can make life very easy or very difficult in the Barrel. My father can attest to that, I assume?”

He said nothing, only raised a dark brow. You inched forward, leaning in slightly so only he heard your next words.

“You think I don’t remember what he did.” You spoke lowly. “But I do. You think I hate him for the fun of it? He took your brother from you but he took you both from me.”

“Did you even notice?” He asked in the same hushed tone but there was a sadness laced into his words. “When we were left to die.”

Your eyes found the chain around his neck. Trailing your  gaze asking the length of it, you saw your ring neatly tucked away. “A story for another day.”

You leaned away and took a half step back, just to be able to look him in the eyes.

“Twelve percent every fortnight.” You offered, holding a hand out for him to shake.

“Thirteen.” He countered.

You sighed slightly, knowing there wasn’t much else you could do. You could sit there and go back and forth with Kaz all night over single percentages, having Kol and Jesper sitting at the ready in case either of you got too testy, but it wouldn’t be worth anything. You glanced over your shoulder at Kol but he simply shook his head, not looking at you. You didn’t need him to speak for you to know what he was trying to tell you.

Do not give in to Kaz Brekker. Not now, not ever.

“I…” You trailed off, looking back to Kaz. “You’ve backed me into a corner.”

You folded your arms over your chest, feeling the hard material of your hidden weaponry at your wrist.

“So it seems.” Kaz said, sounding bored.

“But you also have some leverage you haven’t used.” You realized, eyes catching on the silver chain around his neck. “It makes me wonder what else you’re hiding.”

He offered you a slight smirk. “I assure you, Davina, that I have no tricks here tonight.”

“Tonight.” Kol repeated.

“I agree.” You pointed in Kol’s direction for a moment. “What’s to keep your tricks away after tonight?”

“Trust.” Kaz shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.

“Listen, Davina.” Jesper said, taking a step closer. “Can I call you that?”

“What else would you call me?” You asked plainly, head tilting slightly.

“Right.” He grinned. “Kaz may be a cheat and a liar and a con and a-”

“Yes, he’s a sparkling personality.” You cut in gently. “Is this intended to inspire confidence?”

“I agree with Vi-” Kaz began before he sharply cut himself off. “Davina.”

Jesper gave him a questioning look, and you assumed Kol did the same, but all you could do was smirk. The Zemeni boy shook away whatever he was thinking and turned back to you.

“My point is that while Kaz is every terrible thing you’ve heard about him, he is still a man of his word. If you two manage to strike a deal, he’ll honor it.” He nodded firmly, wholeheartedly believing in Kaz.

“I admire your trust in your leader.” Kol offered and you felt his hand press lightly against the small of your back. “But will the rest of the Dregs? Will the Wraith?”

The action caught Kaz’s attention and he narrowed his eyes in Kol’s direction. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a new fire ignite in his stare, jaw clenching and his chin raising in a silent challenge.

Interesting.

“Kaz?” You said, drawing his focus back to you. The anger in his eyes seemed to soften and you stared in quiet suspicion for a moment. You let the idea leave you and redirected your thoughts to the deal at hand. “I know you understand that I need this deal to beneficial to me and my snakes in some way. What can you truly offer?”

Before Kaz could answer, a new voice cut through from the far end of the Exchange and you all turned towards it.

“Well, isn’t this a sight?” He announced and the sound of his voice reminded you of the way his bullet tore through your shoulder.

You growled quietly and flicked your hand, the blade shooting free at your wrist. Kol came around you to be one step in front of you. Jesper had drew a pistol in a move so fast you didn’t see it, just the light gleaming off the carefully polished weapons.

You had to admit, they were a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.

Jesper caught you admiring his weapons and he shot you a wink.

You all seemed to ready yourselves for a fight, everyone but Kaz.

“Tell me you didn’t.” You tried, hating the desperation in your voice but unable to keep it out. “Kaz, please.”

“Only the previous owners can protest a sale.” He explained and your heart sunk. Any hopes of a true deal that night were squandered almost immediately. “Given your father was the majority owner, it was quite simple really.”

“Bastard.” You hissed and turned back to your father’s approaching figure. He seemed to have come alone, but you didn’t trust he didn’t have Lions in the shadows.

“Hello, daughter.” He smiled and you sneered slightly. “You seem different.”

“I grew into those Kaelish features, just like you said I would.” You spat and his movements stopped as he reached you two.

“And the boy with his hands up must be the one who made you look the way you had when we first met.” He nodded and you hated the way he spoke about Kol. “He almost had me convinced. You looked so much like your mother.”

“Yet you were still able to shoot me. You would’ve killed me.”

“So you come running to this wretched urchin?” He laughed. “Little Boy Brekker can’t protect you, Davi.”

“I don’t need his protection.” You shoved past Kol, your blade glittering in the pale moonlight. Shining, like something divine from your wrist. “I put my own knife in you, without help from a Corporalnik or Brekker or anyone.”

“Which reminds me.”

He threw your blade at your feet and you slammed you foot down on it.

“Consider it a peace offering.” Your father shrugged. “Took four sessions with a Healer to truly mend that wound so I tip my hat to you.”

“Peace?” You laughed. “There is no peace with you, Father. The only peace is death.”

You looked to Kaz and he was already studying you. The thought that this was all for him to learn something about you, that you were simply an investment or entertainment, made yout stomach turn.

You wanted to scream at him, to curse him and threaten him and beat him bloody. But you did none of those things. You did nothing because it wasn’t his fault you felt betrayed. He had called your father to protest, but he had never said anything towards your side. He never claimed he would be your ally, your friend, or anything other than a problem. You had convinced yourself that there was potential in your allegiance, that the ways he looked at you or the way he spoke had meant something more was at least possible if not likely.

Your endless fawning is going to get you killed.

Maybe Melli was right. Maybe Kaz had managed to con you to your own execution.

But you weren’t going to be the one to tell her that.

“Fine.” You huffed. You tucked the blade, slid the cuff off, and handed it to Kol. Kneeling down, you reached for your other blade. It had been cleaned of your father’s blood.

Kol was kneeling beside you, reaching for your hands. You pushed the handle into his grip instead.

“What are you doing?” He asked quietly. You peaked up and saw Jesper speaking to Kaz in the same low tone. You couldn’t hear what the boys were saying, but Kaz’s watchful gaze was flicking between you and presumably your father. “Davina?”

“I won’t risk you or Fahey for whatever scheme Brekker’s lured us into.” You shook your head. “Take those back to Melli, tell her what’s happened. She knows what to do.”

“You can’t mean that.” His eyes were wide and pleading.

“I do… Stay with her as if she were me. And tell her she was right. I shouldn’t have put so much faith into Kaz.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving, but I… I can’t let you do this.”

You felt your pulse flutter, carefully slowing. You blinked in surprise and then reached out to shove Kol to the ground. The quick motion broke his focus and your heart beat normally in your chest. You stood tall, feeling the other blade settle in your boot, and glared at Kaz for a moment.

“Kaz, may I employ your sharpshooter for a favor?” You asked tightly.

“Employment requires you to pay him.” He answered carefully.

You scoffed and reached into your boot. You pulled the blade out and tucked it into a sheath along your vest before pulling three folded bills. You held it between two fingers and raised your brows expectantly.

“His decision then.” Kaz gestured to Jesper.

“All I ask is you walk my friend out the courtyard.” You said.

“What? Davina, I-“ Kol tried.

“He will not raise a hand or his powers towards you because that may be considered cause for war between Snakes and Dregs.” You said pointedly to Kol before returning focus to Jesper. “You’ll be safe as a baby swaddled in their mother’s arms. He just needs to leave and then you can do whatever it is you planned.”

You held the money out to him and he looked to Kaz in hesitation. Kaz shrugged so Jesper reached for the money. You handed it over without a word and he led Kol away. The Heartrender looked over his shoulder once and you waved him away.

You turned your glare back to Kaz/

“And how does this end now? A three way deal where you still end up taking majority.” You snapped as you began crossing the grounds to stand across from your father. Kaz was keeping stride beside you and the urge to kick his cane out from under him had never been stronger.

“In all truth, Davina, I was hoping our deal would be done before it go to this.” He answered, but you no longer trusted anything he said.

“That’s why the Wraith isn’t here. She’s watching the bought Stadwatch.”

He said nothing as you approached your father.

“What business?” You said flatly to him and you felt Kaz stand closer to your side. You wanted to jerk away to ensure distance, but you didn’t want to give your father any ammunition against you.

You were on your own in that courtyard, but you didn’t need to advertise it.

“My gambling den.” He said simply. “I want it back.”

“No.” You shrugged. “Make me an offer and I’ll consider selling you a few shares.”

“I am majority owner of that place, Davina. You cannot take it from me.” “You were the majority owner but you signed it away.” You shrugged. “If you go to the Exchange in the morning and request to see the paperwork, you’ll find your signature. Nice and neat, with just enough flourish to roll your eyes at.”

He scoffed. “I never would’ve sold it to the likes of you.”

“And yet you did… That’s what the paperwork claims, at least.”

“Forgery.” He realized. “You wretched little girl.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “I learned it from my father.”

His hand raised and you shifted your feet, widening your stance to take the hit. His fist slammed your jaw, head jerking to the side as you stumbled slightly. You laughed to yourself as you faced him again and a horrified silence fell over the Exchange.

“How much did it cost you, hmm?” You wiped your thumb along your bottom lip and it came back wet, a small collection of blood from where your lip split. “To buy off the Stadwatch.”

“I’d pay it again in a heartbeat.” He practically snarled.

“Come on then.” You taunted. “Get your money’s worth.”

His fist collided with your stomach and you doubled over. You reached for your sheathed blade but both of his fists slammed against your spine and you dropped to the floor, the knife clattering to the ground. You scrambled for it but his boot came against your side.

One. Two. Three. Four. Hard kicks hitting your stomach, stealing the air from your lungs, feeling as if they were bruising your organs, threatening to crack your rib. You found your blade and threw yourself on your back, propping up on your elbows, and crawled backwards. You were desperate for space to get to your feet despite every breath you took feeling as if you had no room in your chest for your lungs anymore.

You saw the bottom of his boot aiming for your head so you rolled out of the way. Your other hand shot out and gripped his pant leg before you gave a hard yank. He hit the floor with a satisfying thump. Once you cleared your father’s reach, you felt two hands under your arms hauling you to your feet. Turning your head, you saw gloved hands on you and you jerked out of Kaz’s grip.

“Touch me again and I will-” You tried to threaten when a shot cut through the courtyard.

The bullet landed in the cobblestones a few inches from where you stood. If you had still been on the ground, the bullet would’ve ripped through your body. You spun towards where the bullet came from and you saw a blur of a small figure darting along the roofline.

Inej wasn’t trying to save you, but Kaz made sure he did.

“My thanks to your Spider.” You muttered to Kaz, empty hand reaching to hold your pained stomach. “We won’t reach a deal while he’s here.” You gestured to your father with your knife, who was getting to his feet.

“So it seems.” Kaz said thoughtfully, scanning your figure quickly. You saw his gaze catch on your midsection.

“You had to have seen this coming.” You reasoned. “He shot me last time I spoke to him.”

“His mistake.” He shook his head. “You’re stronger than he gives you credit for. There are as many tales of you as there are me. He’d do well to learn them.”

“They’re tales, Brekker. They don’t mean anything.”

“There’s enough truth in all of them.”

“Right, well, that doesn’t answer how we get out of this.”

He offered you a smirk and your brows furrowed. He raised his cane and after a moment, the Exchange’s courtyard erupted into a flurry of bright lights. Some were colored, others dazzling. You stared in awe, though you had to squint through the sudden luminance. There was a fine powder coming from some of the bursts but you didn’t have a chance to interact with it.

Kaz grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the scene, leaving your father covering his eyes and yelling to no one.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

I have too many wips to start this now however I do have a kanej au swimming around in my head so I’m gonna leave a little poll here to see if there’s interest in the premise and if it’s worth bearing in mind for the future

The premise: in a The Sound of Music inspired story (but warped slightly to fit a more grishaverse-y world and the characters’ backstories), Inej Ghafa escaped her abusers at a young age and was taken in by a Saints’ Convent where she has lived ever since. But Inej has never fit in with the Sisters here, and eventually the Mother Superior determines to find a new path for her. Inej, then, is to be sent to the household of Captain Kaz Brekker to work as a governess for his seven children - with the promise that the Convent is always open for her to return to should she wish.

After the death of his wife, Imogen, several years prior Brekker put his gloves on and never took them off again, distancing himself from the world and his children. Maybe Inej can start to melt the ice around Kaz’s heart - but with mounting pressure on the Kerch nation to ally with Fjerda in the coming war, and the country’s want of the Captain’s military expertise, how long can the happiness they are trying to grow even last?

Questions about the au are welcome, and as I said this won’t be coming any time soon but I have been thinking about it so if there’s interest I’ll add it to my list for the future

[apathetic-kiss]

Kerch History Museum (Section 2F, Misc. Artifact Archives)

Inscription on the inside of a captain's notebook, one of the only pages that has not been ripped out. The book was found on a boat belonging to the Wraith fleet, a collection of ships led by captain Inej Ghafa which succeeded in taken down slaver boats and quelling the stream of indentures sold to Kerch pleasure and labour houses. The book is suspected to have belonged to Ghafa, and the crow stamp suggests it was a gift from a member of the Dregs, an infamous Barrel gang often tied to Ghafa and her work on land. (For more information, see Exhibit 21: Indenture Laws & Kerch's History of Slavery, Exhibit 23: The Dregs & Other Notable Ketterdam Gangs, and Exhibit 26: Sankta Inej & Other Modern Saints) Obtained from an anonymous donor Artifact #24789