strvngestark

[strvngestark]

You watch the conjuring movie for it's lore and horror aspects.... I watch the conjuring movies to watch Ed and Lorraine Warren being a mushy-mushy, cute, healthy and an adorable couple always having each other's back...

We are not the same.

[strvngestark]

EVERYTHING

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - Kaz Brekker doesn't make any sense—and trying to understand him is getting to be exhausting.

Warnings - fem!reader, reader worked at a brothel, subtle hints at past abuse, some major dog / master symbolism idfk, mentions of blood/weapons, close proximity, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED SO IF THERE'S A TYPO IDK

Word Count - 3.8k

!MINORS DNI!

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

“Touch me.” 

You’ve only just slipped inside Kaz Brekker’s room at the Slat, and you’re convinced you’ve misheard him. The door’s still cracked, after all—and the mindless clamor of those playing cards down in the foyer is loud enough to play tricks on anyone’s ears. 

You push the door shut, habit making you click the lock into place before spinning around to face him. “Pardon?” 

The lanterns burn low, dim light chasing shadows across the spacious attic. Kaz stands over by his desk, leaning his weight against the edge in lieu of his cane. He’s dragging a gloved hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically flustered. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” he snaps. 

Your laugh comes out breathy and awkward. “We both know I’m a shit actor, Brekker.” 

It’s why you’re never picked when the Dreg’s need a decoy—some girl to saddle up next to a sleazy merchant or another hapless mark, distracting them with batted lashes and a well-timed hand on their thigh. In Jesper’s words, you’re so socially inept that you’d probably blow the operation before it even got started.

To your dismay, Kaz doesn’t repeat himself. With his gaze carefully pinned to the tops of his black boots, he demands, “Why are you here?” 

Your brow quirks. “At the Slat?” 

“In my room.” 

The answer eludes you. Why did you come up here? It’s not like tonight was the first time Dirtyhands has ever skipped out on playing Blackjack with the rest of the group, and yet he’d caught your attention when he slipped from the foyer and went limping up the stairs. 

Then again, that’s not so surprising. Kaz always catches your eye, doesn’t he? 

In the year since you joined the Dregs, you’d earned an unfortunate nickname for yourself around the Barrel: The Bastard’s Pet. Wherever Kaz Brekker goes, you’re sure to be hot on his heels, following after him like a dog, loyal and clingy. 

You tell yourself it’s because that’s your job—to keep Kaz safe, to watch his six. But the devil’s got eyes in the back of his head, and you know Kaz Brekker doesn’t really need protection. 

So, it begs the question: Why are you here? In his room, at the Slat, as a member of the Dregs? Why does he keep you around? 

Unsure of the answer, you simply avoid giving one. 

“You should play games with them sometimes,” you tell him, giving a subtle nod over your shoulder. Their voices are muffled now, but you can still hear everyone downstairs exchanging jeers as they shuffle another round. “It makes you look like a recluse, always sneaking off to be by yourself.” 

Kaz drums one finger against the desk. It’s an erratic beat, following no set rhythm. “I am a recluse,” he grinds out. 

You almost snort. Clearly. 

It’s not like anyone joins a gang with the hopes of making friends—and none of the Dregs are dumb enough to think they’ll find a buddy in the infamous Dirtyhands, anyway. Still, you don’t think it’d kill him to try being a little more sociable. 

The others would like having him around. 

You like having him around. 

“I’ll ask one more time.” Dark eyes flick up, heavy as stones when they land on yours. Suddenly, the large attic feels awfully claustrophobic. “Why are you here?” 

A lie comes easily enough, slipping right through your teeth. 

“I got bored playing,” you tell him. “And Jesper’s cheating, anyway.” 

“They’re all cheating,” Kaz points out. 

“But Jesper’s bad at it,” you argue. Lifting a shoulder, you add, “It ruins the fun.” 

His finger falls still against the desk, ceasing its rhythmless beat. Warm light flickers all around him, dark shadows dancing over the harsh angles of his face. You watch his jaw tick, note the subtle curl of his upper lip. You’re overcome with the distinct feeling that you’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. 

Probably because you are. 

You’ve seen this face before. Been the one to clean the bloody mess left behind by whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves on the receiving end of it. Now, as the one standing in the line of fire, you feel your stomach start to twist. 

You tell yourself it’s dread. Anxiety for what’s to come. 

“From where I was standing,” Kaz grinds out, his stare unflinching, “you looked to be having plenty of…” A sharp breath, his tongue gliding over pearly teeth. “Fun.” 

There’s something hidden in the word. A meaning that goes well beyond its dictionary definition. Is it a challenge? A dare, maybe? Or—perhaps the most unlikely of the options—some sort of plea? 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you ask, finally daring a step closer, slowly drifting from the closed door. 

Kaz shakes his head. “It means what it means.” 

As you draw closer, he moves around the desk and takes a seat. He stretches his bad leg out in front of him, mindlessly rubbing a hand down toward his knee. It’s always bothering him by this point in the night. 

“Go back downstairs.” An order—not a suggestion. 

Across from him now, you place both palms on his desk. The smooth wood is cool against your skin, though the rest of you feels impossibly warm. It’s a side effect of standing too close to him, you think. The flushed cheeks and the vice around your lungs, always leaving your mind fuzzy and your pulse erratic. 

You hate him for it, sometimes. For the effect he has on you. 

“Why?”  you ask, riding out your little bold streak. “So you have a reason to gripe some more about me having fun?” 

“I’m not griping,” Kaz shoots back, very evidently griping. 

“Griping, carping, quibbling, or complaining—doesn’t matter how you word it, all of 'em fit you to a T right now, Brekker.” 

He’s not looking at you anymore, focused instead on the swirling patterns of the wood grain or the neat stack of papers or anything else that gives him an excuse to keep his head low. A month or so after you joined the Dregs, Kaz told you that you had a talent for getting under his skin. Maybe that’s why you don’t need to be able to see his face to know just how annoyed he looks. 

“Go downstairs.” 

“I will,” you vow. “After you explain what you meant.” 

Frustrated, he insists, “There’s nothing to explain.” 

“What did you say when I came in?” 

“Go downstairs.” 

You throw your hands up. “If you won’t tell me what you said, then at least explain why ‘fun’ is such a problem!” 

“Go. Down. Stairs.” 

“Make me.” 

Wood screeches, the chair flying back as he shoots to his feet. The stiffness in his leg makes the movement a little clumsy, and you don’t miss the subtlest flash of a wince before he leans against the desk. 

“Do you know why I brought you in?” 

For a moment, it’s all you can do to blink at him. Because, no—you don’t know why Kaz offered you a place with the Dregs. 

You’re not a sharpshooter like Jesper or a trained Grisha like Nina, not as smart as Wylan or as silent as Inej. You’re decent when it comes to sleight-of-hand and slightly above average with a blade, but even those skills are ones you’ve only learned since joining the gang. 

Back when you first met Kaz, you were nothing and no one. An unlucky girl roped into an indenture with Pekka Rollins, forced to work out of the Sweet Shop—the nastiest, most dangerous brothel in all of Ketterdam. 

“Because you’re secretly a big softie with a heart of gold?” You hope your sarcasm is enough to mask the twinge of shame brought on by your past. 

But Kaz is too good for that. Nothing gets past him—evident by the tiny wrinkle of concern that forms between his dark brows, instantly picking up on the faint dip in your tone. 

Fortunately for you, being observant doesn’t equate to being consoling, and so he doesn’t mention it. 

“Because you didn’t make me sick,” he answers, low and even. You’re not so sure if it’s an insult or compliment, and before you get a chance to ask, Kaz continues, “It was late. And raining. I’d just finished teaching a Razorgull lackey what happens when you breach parley. He was a real bleeder—made a mess of my suit. I ended up leaving him for Jesper to deal with. Thought I’d avoid eyes by sticking to the shadows, walking in the alleys behind the brothels.” Your eyes must be betraying you, because you almost think that’s a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Imagine my surprise when a runaway harlot nearly knocked a helpless cripple like me off his feet.” 

You bite your cheek, still deciding if you want to slap him for calling you a harlot or laugh in his face. In spite of his limp and cane, Kaz Brekker is far from what you’d consider helpless. 

“So, what? You had me join the Dregs because I nearly bulldozed you in an alley?” That whole night was spotty for you, the panic you’d felt having rendered your memory foggy and incomplete. 

“Inej had told me about you,” Kaz says. “That Pekka Rollins got a new girl—an escape artist, always trying her luck at running away.” 

You didn’t know that, but maybe you should have. Inej isn’t the best spider in the Barrel without reason. She knows everything—and all she knows is reported directly to Kaz. Even so, you’re not sure you’re catching his point with all this. 

As if he can see you trying to mentally connect the dots, Kaz says, “Maybe I had another purpose in walking behind those brothels. Maybe I wanted to see just how quick on her feet Pekka Rollins’ escape artist was.” His head tilts slightly. “Or maybe I just didn’t want anyone to see me when I wasn’t looking my best. Either way, I left that alley knowing you’d be a part of my crew.” 

Your memory of that night may be spotty, but the one after is still crystal clear. A Suli spider had crawled through your window at the Sweet Shop, told you that Per Haskell was willing to pay a very hefty sum to buyout your indenture if you agreed to work for the Dregs. To this day, you’re still unsure of how Kaz managed to convince him you were worth it—or why he bothered. 

“You’re not making any sense, Brekker,” you admit, rubbing at your temple. A headache burrows there, seeming to grow worse with every minute. “Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? Cause I’m… fast?” 

It sounds stupid. It is stupid. 

You’re no faster than anyone else—and you certainly hadn’t been fast enough to outrun Pekka Rollins’ goons. Everytime you made a run from the Sweet Shop, they dragged you right back, kicking and screaming the whole way. 

“No.” Kaz sighs. Drags a hand through his hair, tugging at the dark locks. “I wanted you-”

Kaz doesn’t finish that thought. 

A violent CRASH! steals your attention. Both of your heads snap toward the closed door, listening intently for any sign of danger.

Instead, you hear Jesper’s boisterous cackle chime. Wylan starts shouting about something indiscernible—vase, shattered, and moron among the words you catch.

A smile sneaks up on you. 

But, when you turn back to Kaz, it’s promptly wiped away. 

He looks like he’s had a lemon rind forced into his mouth, scowling at the door. “What’s going on with you and Van Eck?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“You heard me.” 

You did—but hearing him is a far stretch from understanding him, and it’s seemed like Kaz has been talking in circles since you came in. What’s Wylan have to do with any of this? 

“I don’t get what you’re asking.” 

“Stop making me repeat myself.” 

“Then stop being so confusing, Brekker!” you huff, crossing your arms. “I don’t understand-”

Kaz cuts you off with a look. Cold as death, he grinds out, “Are you fucking him?” 

Shock. Confusion. 

They course through you in equal measure, coupled with slight amusement. The latter must show on your face, because Kaz’s scowl deepens before he looks down at his desk, pretending to fiddle with something. 

“I have work to do,” he says stiffly. “Go downstairs.” 

Your feet stay firmly planted, the desk’s width all that separates the two of you. “Why would you think that?” 

Of all the assholes and degenerates in the Dregs, Wylan’s probably the closest you have to a real friend. It came with the territory—both of you having become newbies around the same time, trying to learn the ropes and fit in. 

You’re not fucking him, though. 

Kaz sinks back into his chair. His usually-squared shoulders curve slightly, as if some weight is pressing down on them. “Go downstairs.” 

“I thought you didn’t like repeating yourself?” you ask, almost taunting. 

“Go.” The word strains between his teeth. “Now.” 

For no good reason, you make a stand. Stare down the barrel of the gun, unafraid and unrelenting. How strange, you think. The tightness in your chest has never once been apprehension. 

It was excitement. Anticipation. 

You’ve always liked getting under his skin. Finding out what makes him tick, figuring out which words earn the sharpest glares. You want him to pull the trigger, if only because it means you have his attention—and like a dog waiting at its master’s feet, you could care less if it comes with an open hand or a closed fist. 

So long as it comes. So long as he notices you. 

“What did you say when I came in?” You uncross your arms, make yourself stand up tall. “Tell me.” 

Dark eyes shoot up. Kaz almost looks shocked, the dull echo of emotion creasing the lines of his face, parting his lips. You wait, but no sound comes out. 

Dirtyhands is used to giving orders. Not taking them. 

“You’ve heard what they say about me.” You wave a dismissive hand toward the shoddy window overlooking the Barrel. “Brekker’s Pet. Always with you, always following you around! Ask any sod in Ketterdam and they’ll say the same—the only way I’d have time to fuck someone is if you were in the room!” And even then, it wouldn’t be Wylan. 

A steel rod takes the place of Kaz’s spine, turning your words over in his head. “Fine. Maybe you haven’t,” he relents. “But you want to.” 

It’s a gamble. An unusually shitty one, at that. 

You blow out an exasperated breath. This whole thing is getting old. “Saints, Kaz. What’s your deal?” 

He opens his mouth. Shuts it. Then opens it again. 

“I saw you downstairs,” he says. “Touching Van Eck.” 

Your brows lift, fists clenching. You don’t know what you expected from him, but it certainly hadn’t been a bold-faced lie! 

But then you start thinking of the moments before you saw Kaz head upstairs, laughing and playing Blackjack before you folded your hand to follow after him. You’d been sitting cross-legged on the threadbare rug, wedged between Wylan and Raske, when you noticed—Shit. 

Kaz is right, and that makes you want to scream. Why is Kaz always right? 

It was after you noticed Jesper was cheating, that he’d poorly marked the deck with daub; a sticky, ash-colored substance. You’d leaned in close to point it out to Wylan—your hand against his forearm, your lips dangerously close to the Merchling’s ear. After he noticed the marks, you both exchanged quiet giggles over just how bad Jesper was at swindling. 

Still, there had been nothing sexual about it. Nothing between you and Wylan. 

But, even if there was, why would Kaz care? 

I saw you—touching Van Eck. His words race through your mind, pulsing in time with the dull ache in your temple. Touch me, touch me, touch me. 

All of a sudden, the fog begins to clear. Something in your memory clicks. 

That night behind the brothels—when you were running from the Sweet Shop, when Kaz had been drenched in the blood of some Razorgull. Barefoot and frantic, you really had almost knocked him off his feet. Gloved hands had held your arms tight, keeping you still. His hair had been messy and your mind a blur—and when you’d seen the crimson smeared across his cheek, you hadn’t thought twice before wiping it away. 

You’d done what so few have. You had touched Kaz Brekker, skin-on-skin. 

Because you didn’t make me sick. 

When you don’t speak, Kaz shifts in his chair. Straightens an already-neat stacks of papers. “You won’t try and deny it?” he asks. 

Maybe you imagine the quaver in his voice. Or maybe you don’t. 

Either way, you start around his desk. Your every step is slow—cautious. 

You stop beside him, and Kaz shifts again. You’re standing closer than you’d usually dare to get, so close that you can hear it when he swallows. 

“You should go downstairs,” he tells you, lower than before. 

Your head tilts, hair shifting over one shoulder. “Is that what you want?” 

His answer hides in silence so thick it’s a tangible presence. It curls around you, makes gooseflesh prickle along your skin. Your mouth feels dry, your stomach like it’s tied in knots. 

Suddenly, you don’t need him to repeat what he’d said. 

As always, Kaz was right—you'd heard him the first time. 

“Ask me again.” The words drip from your tongue, an order and a plea. “Ask me and I’ll do it.” 

Kaz gives you a look, one you’ve never seen before. Dark eyes rove over you, brimming with worry and stress and—and Saints, a sense of desire so strong it makes your toes curl in your boots, a feeling like lightning coursing up your spine. 

In a voice like stone on stone, raspy and urgent, Kaz breathes out, “Touch me.” 

So you do. 

You cup his face, graze your thumb over his cheekbone. Kaz stiffens, swallowing once more—but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to pull away. 

“You know, to be such a bastard,” you start, a note of teasing in your voice, “you’re awfully pretty, Brekker.” 

Heat blooms against your palm, a deep blush crawling over his pale cheeks. 

“Shut up,” Kaz grumbles. 

You grin. “Want me to go downstairs?” 

A gasp rips from your throat as a gloved hand clamps around your wrist, Kaz pulling you down toward him. Anxiety still tightens his features, but beneath it he looks all too pleased with himself when you stumble clumsily into his lap. 

For the sake of comfort, you adjust your legs—careful for his bad one—and settle your arms over his shoulders. Then, when it fully settles that you’re straddling Kaz-fucking-Brekker, it gets a lot harder to breathe. 

“Should I take that as a no?” It sounds like a pant, your lungs constricting. 

He lifts the hem of your shirt, the feel of leather cool against your skin as Kaz jabs a finger into your side. “Do I always have to repeat myself around you?” he asks. Dark eyes dip past your jaw, his tongue gliding over his lips. You don’t think he actually cares to hear your answer, which is good—because you’re pretty sure you just forgot how to speak. 

Kaz drags his finger up the curve of your waist, his touch tentative and featherlight. It feels a lot like being studied—the way his dark brows knit together, staring at you as if you’re a magic trick he’s yet to master, a puzzle he hasn’t quite figured out. 

“It’s not because you’re fast,” he says, somewhat distracted. It takes a minute for you to realize that he’s referring to your earlier question—Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? 

“Good,” you manage. “Because I’m not.” 

The slightest twitch of a smile. “No.” He takes his time tracing over every divet in your ribs, slowly trailing up, up, up. “You’re not.” 

“But I didn’t make you sick.” You’re not prepared for the wave of sickness that comes with the reminder, stomach roiling. 

The Bastard’s Pet. Is that truly all you are? All you’re worth to the Dregs? Useless at saddling up next to sleazy merchants, but good enough to curl up at Kaz Brekker’s feet. 

As if he can read your mind, Kaz’s hand goes still against your side. “Wipe that sour look off your face, would you? If I only wanted you to touch me, I would’ve just come to the Sweet Shop instead of getting my ass chewed by Haskell.”

You wiggle just enough to knock one knee into his hip, glaring at him. Both of you pretend not to notice the catch in his breath—or the growing hardness straining against his trousers, pressed against your core. 

Gruff, Kaz continues, “You were in an alley and saw a man dripping with blood, and your first thought was to reach out and clean his cheek.” His head shakes, a strand of coal-black hair swaying near his temple. “It was ignorant,” he tells you. “And… decent. Innocent.” 

You almost laugh. Innocent. That’s hardly a word you’d use to describe yourself. Especially right now, your every muscle straining in an attempt to keep your hips perfectly still, hands folded at the base of his neck. 

“I didn’t know innocence like that could survive in the Barrel.” His hand starts again, tracing little shapes against your side. “Even if you never touched me again, I wasn’t gonna let Pekka Rollin’s crush someone like you between his grimy little fingers.” 

“So that’s the answer?” you ask, nibbling on your lip. “I’m in the Dregs cause I’m innocent?” What a reason to have someone join a gang. Hey, you seem pure! Wanna get corrupted? 

“You’re in the Dregs because you know how to persevere,” Kaz answers, holding your gaze. “How to get up and try again, no matter how many times you’re knocked down.” The sensation of smooth leather drifts higher. “Because you’re a survivor.” Your eyelids flutter, sucking in a breath as he palms the plump curve of your breast. “Because you’re loyal,” he starts, and it’s almost reverent the way he almost whispers, “my perfect little pet.” 

The world grinds to a halt. 

Outside of this room—this moment—nothing exists. 

Too quiet, you ask, “What do you want from me, Kaz?” 

You want him to feel in control, to be the one that decides how this is gonna go. But your self-restraint is a fraying cord, mere seconds from snapping in half. 

If it were up to you, how far would you go? How much of Kaz Brekker would you explore? As far as I could, you think, desperate. As much as he’d let me. 

That’s the trouble with dogs. They’re loyal and clingy, forgiving and insistent. They want for everything and take whatever they’re given. They’ll spend hours begging at your feet. Lick scraps from the floor until their tongues begin to bleed. 

When it comes to Kaz Brekker, you’ll take whatever he has to give. 

And you’ll never stop begging for more, more, more. 

“Everything.” His breath is warm against your lips, the leather cool on your breast. “I want everything.”

a/n - just in case anyone couldn't tell, i obviously just finished reading six of crows (yeah ik i'm very late to the party). i randomly started writing this while i was stuck in traffic and it just sort of spiraled over the past 24 hours and now here we are! this was born! idk if i'll get anymore kaz ideas, but it was fun writing something more dialogue heavy (dialogue has my heart<3)

[strvngestark]

Dressing for revenge [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 7k

summary: when Kaz and his crows return from Ravka they run into trouble, and to solve it, he looks for a childhood friend who is too resentful and too in love with him

warnings: trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, no physical contact, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej

A/N: I LOVE Kanej, but I wanted to write something with Kazzle Dazzle because I love him too, lol. I hope you like it!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @rustyyyyspoonz

The rumor had already spread throughout the Barrel: “Kaz Brekker and his crows are back” How long had it been since they had embarked into the Fold? Just a couple of months? They had felt like years, if you were being honest.

If it was true that they were back, you felt sorry for the trouble they were going to run into. The change of ownership of their club, the strengthening of the other gangs, and mainly the fact that they were being tried for murder thanks to the fact that Pekka Rollins had awarded it to them... all these problems were going to fall on them like a bucket of water cold. It had already fallen on them, in fact, since the rumor was accompanied that they had escaped from the stadwatch once they were captured.

You didn't know how much of what everyone was saying was true and how much was false, trying to stay as calm as possible when the name Kaz came from someone's lips for fear that Pekka had some magical ability and could read your mind or sense the fear in your eyes every time you met him. Afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to you if he knew you knew the black-haired man.

Things had changed a lot since the last time you saw the boy and that was more than noticeable. Your story goes back long before he made his reputation when you were just a couple of neighbor kids playing on the farms. You two arrived in Ketterdam together, with nothing but hopes for a better future and Jordie as your protector (or an attempt at that, at least), after your father and Mr. Rietveld died in the same accident, reuniting with Kaz’s mother and later to be matched by your mother, who had died of sadness, if that was possible. Three helpless children thrown into the cruel world were what came of that and the rest is history.

Crime, robbery, gangs, and a life of hardship were what you had to adjust to as a child, but you doubted very much that a single person living in The Barrel would be in a different situation. You weren't fully involved in the disgraced jobs of the majority, but if there was one true thing, it was that when it came to obtaining information you were, to say the least, excellent. You and Kaz had to fend for yourselves, and you learned what you could from the streets. In this way he and you became a team, so to speak, for a few teenage years, and for that period of your lives having each other was the only thing in the world. Over time he became ruthless, rude, a great fighter and earned the nickname 'dirtyhands' thanks to his gambling skills, from which he obtained most of the things you had. You learned to move quickly, to go unnoticed, and to defend yourself from those who tried to harm you, always supporting the boy’s plans.

Less than a year was enough for his name to become known and he began to think big. Sometimes he would tell you about the plans he had: to run Fifth Harbor, to establish the crow club, to become the best of The Barrel. All of that sounded like crazy ideas at first, but looking back you realized that he had accomplished too much in that pit for your relatively young age.

You never knew what made you and Kaz go their separate ways, but somehow it had happened. It was gradual, maybe that's why it was hard for you to notice, but one day you woke up and realized the distance that existed between him, who previously was practically the only family you knew, and you. It didn't take much for him to decide to break the bond that had held you together from a very early age; he never gave reasons for this and you never asked him.

You lived under some protection from the leader of The Crows, of course, but very few people could link you to The Bastard of the Barrel. Sometimes you still provided him with information, but when he found someone else, the inquiries became less and less frequent until one day they turned into none. You managed to eat and have a roof over your head pretty well (and mostly honestly) and you tried to stay out of trouble for a long time.

Until one day he flew away from Ketterdam without warning and order in the Barrel was disturbed in every possible way. With his team gone, it didn't take long for Pekka to seize control and anyone who didn't work for him was inevitably against him. It was only a matter of time before he found out the talent you had tried to hide and forced you to carry his lion shield... figuratively speaking.

If he ever knew that you used to work with Kaz he never mentioned it or maybe your relationship with him had been severed so long that no one remembered it anymore. Now you were just a little girl, as he used to call you, slippery enough that she seemed so harmless that, in his eyes, that became a benefit. You were never one to look rude, unfortunately for you, and that allowed men like him to feel entitled to take advantage of you. You thanked the saints that Rollins didn't find you attractive or who knows what other services he would have requested from you. It was always better to provide him with the information he needed than for him to force you to be his lover.

You weren't a part of the meetings that the Dime Lions had and you weren't considered a member either, which kept you calm every night. You were just another piece in the enormous chess game that Pekka moved at his convenience, the same game that was threatened by the mere existence of Kaz Brekker and much more so now that he had returned.

In the middle of the night it was logical to ask yourself, what kind of strange plans would he have in mind now?

One, two, and three knocks surprised you at the rickety wooden door and made you jump out of your chair, where you were already asleep. An old lamp was on the even older table and it illuminated the little space that your provisional home had so you took it to approach to open the door. It was raining outside (quite unusual for that time of year) and by the time it was you figured it was one of Rollins' idiots coming to do a job for you. What would he want now? Harbor information? Talk to a policeman? He was supposed to control everything, sometimes you kept wondering why he asked for your help.

When you opened the door, the air slipped in and almost extinguished the flame of the fire, but the temperature of the night wasn’t what left you freezing, but the presence that was in front of you. With his hat, a completely black outfit, and his cane in hand, but above all soaked from head to toe, there was him; Kaz. You almost feared you were imagining it, but you knew it was him by the clear, penetrating eyes that were watching you, even though you admitted that he had changed so much that in other circumstances you would have had trouble recognizing him.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” he asked. No warm greetings, no smiles, no explanations. Just a cold, serious question, just the way he was.

“Someone followed you? If this place is horrible by itself, I don't want blood staining the floor” you replied with the same tone. You wanted to tell him that you had missed him, ask him if he was okay, and give him a huge hug, but those actions should be reserved for your nocturnal fantasies, because as soon as you took a step forward he would be able to hit you with his cane. Or at least that's what the Kaz you knew would do, but you doubted very much that the passing of the years would have softened his heart.

"Nobody followed me" was all he said and you stepped aside at the door so he could go inside. Even with his words, you felt the need to look out on both sides of the street in search of someone, but with the level of rain, you doubted very much that someone would want to stay and spy because he would probably die of pneumonia.

When you closed the door and turned around he didn't say anything, he just stood in front of you while the water drained from his coat. During that moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire it under the warm light of the candle; his eyes definitely hadn't changed one bit, but now there was a tinge of contempt more noticeable than before. His features had hardened and he was thinner, barely resembling the boy you remembered, perhaps as a reminder of just that... that he was now a man.

“So the rumors are true…” you started to say “You are back”

"I think that's more than obvious," he exclaimed. For a second you forgot that it was he who had knocked on your door and you felt uncomfortable as if you were an intruder who had to get out of there.

There was silence again and you two just looked at each other. Kaz had made his own mental list of changes he noticed in you and was reflecting on when was the last time he had looked at you in such detail. You were wearing light clothes, because before he arrived you were about to go to sleep, and your face, although as childish as always, looked more tired than before. You had also cut your hair, which was messy around your shoulders and a bit darker in tone.

“And may I know to what I owe your visit? I guess you don't want to have tea” you said to break the silence. The dryness of your words in a certain way was to protect yourself because you never knew how much a sharp tongue like his could hurt you.

"I'm in a job and I need people"

Of course it was going to be due to a job, and of course that was why he had sought you out after so many years. A part of you, tremendously stupid, to tell you the truth, was hoping that during the time your friend was away from Ketterdam some divine clarity would have illuminated him so that he would realize that he had to look for you to repair your relationship and offer at least apologies. But you would have to pay him every kruge in the country for him to do something like that.

"I'm glad you considered me, but I'm sorry I have to decline."

"Why?" he asked immediately, his raspy voice showing annoyance at the refusal.

“Because it happens that you can’t work for opposing sides. At least not at the same time” you replied. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but you swore you saw a slight look of surprise on the man's face when you answered that. Most likely, he had assumed that you would be one of the few people who wouldn’t be on Pekka’s side and therefore a safe option.

“Do you work for Pekka?” he muttered. You knew him well enough to know that he was hurt, you could see it in his posture, in his voice, and especially in his look “After all he did to us?”

"And what did you want him to do?" you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had spoken in the plural. Us “You practically handed us over to him. My options were that or receive a bullet in the forehead."

"I didn’t hand you over to anyone"

"You abandoned us and left us in his hands, it's the same thing" you replied, shrugging. There was so much resentment and pain from never-closed wounds floating in the air that it was hard for him and you to think clearly. “Your vacation in Ravka may have been nice, but things only just went to hell here. So don't you dare judge me by the choices I made” you exclaimed defensively.

You didn't imagine that your first conversation with him after so long would be like this, but unfortunately, things never turned out the way you expected. After all, they were a crook and a spy talking in the dead of night.

"You could get information from him more easily," Kaz concluded, shrugging the same way you did. "And so we sink him from the inside."

"And risk him finding out and killing me?"

“You know that would never happen,” he said firmly “The thing about killing you. I wouldn't allow him” his eyes stared at you almost offended by the lack of trust you had towards him. There was silence for the third time and this time your gaze moved away to focus on anything but him.

"Plus you have this girl you took out of The Menagerie, don't you?" you said in your defense. The one you replaced me with, you wanted to add, but held back "So I don't know what you might need me for" 

"With so many problems going on, I thought it would be better to have as many alliances as possible," he explained to you. You continued without looking at him, with your head still full of worries and sorrows, and when he didn’t receive an answer, he spoke again "You know that it is your best option"

"I don't know that, but I do know that I would have liked you to at least ask how I am before asking me to join the team you never wanted me in and from which you separated me as soon as you had the chance" you exhaled, in an attempt to lighten the weight on your chest. 

It was no secret that you had always felt betrayed by Kaz’s treatment of you, even though he treated dozens of others the same way, because you somehow thought that your backstory was enough to deserve at least the sympathy or some consideration on the part of the crow. And of course you wanted to run from Pekka's clutches and plunge him into the deepest muck, but the resentment for what you considered your friend’s abandonment was stronger. You didn't even know if it was correct to call him ‘friend’.

"You would be a good ace up my sleeve" was all he replied, in an attempt to convince you. Kaz begged absolutely no one, but if there was one thing he had decided before coming to find you, it was that he wouldn't leave until you agreed to help him. Although the nature of your current job made things a bit difficult for him, "Pekka never knew you worked for me, did he?"

"With you" you corrected him "I didn't work for you but with you. We got to The Barrel at the same time”

"Y/N" he murmured. Your name sounded strange coming from his lips after so long without hearing it and that caught you off guard “I'm trying to help you so you don't end up hurt or dead. If you work for… with me, I can tell you where not to be. Otherwise I could find you in the rubble of some confrontation or with a knife from Inej or a bullet from Jesper through your chest”

"Always so thoughtful," you replied with a smirk, but as much as it pained you to admit it, he had a point. You knew what he was capable of and what Pekka was capable of… which side was more convenient to be on? "How much are you going to pay me?" you asked and Kaz smiled, but it wasn't a sign of happiness but mockery “You've always said that's what's really important, haven't you?”

He took something out of his coat and tossed it on the table. They were bills. 

"An advance, when I recover the crow club, I will pay you the rest"

“So my pay depends on whether we win or not. That doesn't sound so convenient to me,” you muttered, clicking your tongue, as you fought the urge to say yes just to be near him. It was cold outside, the rain was making a lot of noise and you just wanted to sleep at once, but you knew that you could have been arguing with him all night and neither of you would back down. Kaz was stubborn, one way or another he would get what he wanted. "This isn't just about the club, is it?" you said, with your voice noticeably lower and you would even say with a touch of softness. You and Kaz never talked about what had happened, but each of you was dealing with the weight of the trauma in your own way. He didn't say anything and this time you saw something in him that was different from his usual behavior, knowing that it was those ghosts from the past tormenting him.

"If someone should make him pay, it's us"

Us, again. 

"I'll think about it" was what you answered, after reflecting on what would be the appropriate response. The speechless moment gave you something else to think about, and you knew that a huge flaw of yours was how easily you let your heart take over. Because even with all the other feelings on top, you still worried about him "Now that the crow club isn't yours..." you started to say, afraid of what he might say "do you have a place to stay?"

You would have offered to sleep there if he said no, but instead he said he’d manage. That didn't completely reassure you, but you decided not to insist.

“First thing tomorrow, send a reply to this address,” he asked you, holding out a piece of paper that had a few drops on it “Don't go there personally or you'll screw everything up, just send me a note. A yes or a no will suffice”

“What if someone tracks down the note?” you asked, which was a totally valid concern.

Kaz was silent while he thought of an alternative, and then spoke again.

“Just write crows of a feather, murder together. I'll understand” he murmured and you nodded. You knew the poem he was quoting from, had read it many times from the worn-out book he had gotten for you. Kaz didn't wait for anything else and took long steps to the door, which he opened as soon as he could. "Good night, Y/N."

And then he left.

That night you thought a lot about the solution you would give him in the morning, thinking about the pros and cons of each possible answer, until you decided that it was best to say yes. You needed to do it if you wanted to live peacefully (as much as the place allowed) but the main reason was to support him. If he had been about any stupid dispute you would have said no, but you knew this was something else. Kaz missed Jordie every day of his life and his way of honoring him was by planning revenge against the one who led him to that fate, so it was kind of an obligation for you to help him with that too.

You wrote the note on a piece of paper and carefully folded it to put it in an envelope. You signed the outside with his name, written in the best handwriting you had, and although you were hesitant to do so, at the end you wrote a little ‘from a friend’ in the hope of making it clear to him, and perhaps even encouraging him that, if he was willing, you could recover a little of what you had lost. And you weren’t referring to physical things, but to what existed between you.

All your life you had lived with almost opposite feelings when it came to Kaz. Somehow you were upset with him for only seeing you as an instrument that he could dispose of for his interests, but this was linked to the feeling of affection that you wanted him to experience for you and that apparently didn’t exist. It was difficult to decipher anything he was thinking, not just about you, since he had taken it upon himself to build such a convincing facade that it made it complicated to see beyond. Added to that was his aversion to touch of any kind, which, while quite understandable and justified, still made you feel sad. More than once you tried, in vain, to be able to touch him in some way, even if it was something tiny, but he always pushed you away. He pushed you away physically and eventually emotionally, and yet with all this background you wanted to help him.

You knew you couldn't expect a reply to your note, but you were confident that he had received it, and your suspicions were confirmed when another letter came back a couple of days later. It contained a day, a time, and a place, which you assumed was a meeting with him.

You were very careful when you headed there, because you thought that the fewer people saw you together, the better, or else Pekka might suspect something. You covered yourself with a long black cloak for this task and when you arrived you noticed that it wasn't Kaz who was there, but a couple of boys.

"Who are you?"

"And you?" you asked, with the same defensive tone. The place seemed to be an experiment workshop and looking at it in more detail you noticed that there was a bed, so it could even be some kind of apartment. The two men, one brown-skinned and the other pale as snow, wore simple brown suits and were looking at you warily.

“She is Y/N,” said a voice behind you. By the sound of the cane accompanied by the footsteps you knew it was Kaz, “she will work with us”

"Oh," said the dark-haired boy, looking happier with the answer, as he walked in your direction "Welcome, in that case" he muttered flirtatiously, as he held out his hand for you to greet him "Jesper Fahey, at your service”

"I am Wylan" intervened the other, from his place, timidly and quickly.

"You arrived" Kaz spoke again. You turned and a couple of women appeared, you guessed that the shorter one with Suli features was the famous wraith of Kaz. And she was beautiful, you couldn't help but notice.

There was a brief conversation with the six of you there and then Kaz asked you to walk him up to the roof of the place. Once there you instinctively stood next to the only one you knew and he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye while he adopted the typical position of him leaning on the cane.

“Brick by brick” whispered the man’s raspy voice and you were about to ask what you were supposed to do there when an explosion went off in the distance so impressively that you stepped back a bit. It didn't take you more than a few seconds to locate the space and realize the place it was.

"The crow club" you said in a low voice, only for the black-haired man to hear you, while you watched him in profile. But he didn't look at you, just exchanged words with the others and talked about how Pekka's apparent reign was coming to an end.

You'd always known that Kaz Brekker was a little unhinged, and that night you proved it for sure, but you weren't even the least bit afraid. Rather, it was some strange hope that this madness would allow you to go far. Even freedom, perhaps.

After that clear declaration of war, things got considerably complicated, especially when you were summoned before Pekka and he asked you to investigate someone in particular and it turned out to be none other than the man you were now secretly working with. You assumed it was something logical, but even so you feared that Rollins had noticed the slight tremor in your hands when he asked you to complete the task.

You summoned Kaz to Black Veil Cemetery, late at night, and there you confessed to him everything that had happened. He of course found something good in this and devised a way to use it to your advantage, which put you at ease. It still amazed you a little at how nervous you became around him as if you knew nothing of what you were doing, but when you regained your composure you thought it was an excellent plan.

Meetings with Kaz were regular, but always in secret and alone, and they worked to exchange information that you considered useful for him with what he would allow Pekka to know.

You didn't know the full plans and you weren't part of them in any way, or you would be found out, but you knew about almost everything that was going on. The attacks, the fights, the traps, the injuries... you had to look at everything from the outside without being able to intervene. It was frustrating for you, more than anything in the world, and you had to admit that you had taken a liking to crows, even if you had seen them only a couple of times, so you also looked after their safety.

One day you received a note and went to a meeting with all the members of his group present, to finally hear the full version of what Kaz intended to do to finish off your boss. It was a brilliant idea, but you were a little worried about your position in all of this.

“You mean I'm going to be there watching everything Pekka and his thugs do?”

"It will be the best" he answered you. His face still had a bruise on his cheek, a memory from the last fight he had, and he looked exhausted "Jesper and Nina will be there, plus you'll be in disguise" he added and you nodded at that.

When the moment came you thought it would be an easy task, but when Kaz started to get brutally beaten you had to muster all your willpower not to throw yourself into trying to face Pekka, even with your zero skill. He sounded so convincing when he said about Alby that even you believed it, feeling suddenly awed by the cynical smile on Kaz's blood-smeared face. And he also mentioned you in the story, although not directly, saying that it was all about revenge for having abandoned you two when you were children.

You were able to breathe again until Pekka and his entire gang left the place in search of a son who wasn't really buried and you four were left alone. Under other circumstances you would have run to Kaz, cupped his face in your hands, sobbed, and told him it was over. But instead, you just stood in front of him and watched him; his eyes were wild with fury and a thirst for revenge that had already been quenched, but you sensed a hint of calm when he became aware of your presence.

"Breathe," you said in a whisper. Jesper and Nina were dismayed by the closeness with which you spoke to him, as they knew little of your history together “You're fine. We all are,” you assured him. That situation took you back to multiple panic attacks in the past where, given the impossibility of physical contact, all you could do for him was talk to calm him down. It always worked and Kaz had forgotten how soft your voice was and the way you brought him back to the real world. You decided to risk trying to do something else to comfort him and cautiously stretched out your hand towards him, instantly seeing his eyes widen in terror. But your hand ended up landing, more like a touch than a squeeze, on the man's bicep, which was covered by his coat; it wasn't intrusive, or abrupt, and Kaz was surprised that he didn't feel anything negative about it. He looked at your hand and then he looked at you with that usual serious expression, but he didn't push you away and allowed you to stay that way for just a few seconds, after which you decided to move your limb back.

You didn’t receive a verbal response at any time, but you did see him exhale shakily (so softly that you barely noticed) and nod his head while still looking at you, as if he were letting go of a huge weight that was stuck in his chest and at the same time assure you that it felt like a victory. Victory for beating Pekka, victory because he wasn't engulfed by an attack when you touched him, and victory because somehow you were there. You were with him, again.

“Now can we go back to normal?” Jesper asked, to break the silence, and you felt like laughing. Have they ever had a normal life? you asked yourself, but you didn't say.

"Yes" was all Kaz said and taking one last look at you he began to walk in the direction of the exit.

Both of them were curious about the type of relationship you had with Kaz but neither thought it wise to ask at the time, although Nina was getting an idea of things thanks to your racing heartbeat and his that it was impossible not to hear a moment ago. You stayed there just long enough to have a drink with Jesper and then you left the Emerald Palace. You didn't want to go back home, but going with one of them didn't seem like an option either, and once you were on the street you felt worried about remembering the state the black-haired man had left. You trusted that by that time he would be calmer and as if they thought for themselves your legs began to walk to look for him.

It was cold again and you feared you would meet someone dangerous on the road, but you only saw a couple of drunks and a girl looking for clients. Until you were in front of the door, you wondered if it was a good idea to go in, thinking that you would probably be crossing a line that Kaz was not going to allow you to, and wondering if you were going to put up with his refusal, which was a pretty good chance.

With trembling hands you opened the door, which luckily was unlocked, and as if some unknown instinct were guiding you, you found Kaz's room; it was the only one from which light came out through the crack in the door and something told you that he was there. You knocked twice, fearing you had knocked so low that he hadn't heard, and even considered walking back the way you came, but didn't have time to as the door opened a few seconds later. He had already taken off his coat and vest, probably because they were stained with blood, and his black shirt was open at the top buttons, with the suspenders that held up his pants hanging on his thighs. But what caught your attention the most were his pale, gloveless hands.

"What do you need?" he asked you directly. His face looked worse now that the bruises had swollen and the blood was dry. He'd probably have them for a couple of days, and he was definitely going to have a scar over his eyebrow.

"I wanted to see you" you replied, instantly regretting not having considered your sincere words better "I mean... to see how you were" you tried to correct. You thought he would slam the door in your face, but instead he scooted to the side to let you in, then closed the door behind you with a soft click.

Again you felt alien to the place for a moment, thanks to the fact that he looked at you from head to toe as if your presence bothered him. You had to mentally remind yourself that he saw most of them that way.

“Your pay will be ready soon”

"That doesn't matter," you said softly. Several things had changed since the first conversation you had with him, because now that you knew why Kaz had done everything he had done and the traumatic memories returned to both of you, the money had taken a backseat.

You didn't say anything for a moment and you looked for a place where you could sit later. Kaz’s room, once painted green but now just damp walls, had a small bed by the window, a desk littered with papers and a lamp facing another window, with a simple bookcase placed on the top of the side wall; a nightstand, a place to wash your hands with a mirror above it, a circular table in the middle of the free space, and a single armchair that at least looked comfortable. It wasn't the prettiest place, but at least it was cozy.

"Your girl, did she leave?"

“Inej is not my girl. Or from anyone, she is free now” he answered you. He still wasn't looking at you and you noticed that he was having a hard time staying on his feet.

"I'm glad to hear it. She deserves it” you murmured sincerely. You thought that she would be important to Kaz, like all his partners, and you decided to venture out to see if he revealed something else to you. "She's very smart."

"She is"

"And she's pretty too" you added and without moving his head he looked out at yours. You felt as if he was reading your intentions through your eyes, a quality he had always had.

"I think so," he said without much interest.

"Are you very hurt?" you asked, changing the subject, as you took a step towards him. By inertia he took the same step, in the opposite direction, and that made you stop abruptly.

"Nothing to worry about" he exclaimed and though he thought, you couldn't have known, of course, get close to you, you decided to take that step back before he did anything else. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm"

"What did I do to make you walk away?" you exclaimed, finally expressing a question that had been eating away at your chest and tormenting you for many nights in a row. And since there was silence, you spoke again: “Not like right now, but a long time ago. It's just… I never understood it. Before we were friends and for me… you were even like a family. I loved your brother too and I know losing him never affected us the same, but I was glad you were there for me after that. Then we got older and things got more difficult, but I still had you and that calmed me down. And then… we just drifted apart,” you muttered, shrugging, as you avoided his gaze. Kaz still didn't answer anything and you felt the obligation to fill the silence “Sometimes I remember the things we went through when we were young. The good ones, of course. Like that time we stole a cake to celebrate your birthday and it was probably the best sweet I've ever eaten” you commented, smiling at the memory "And when I made you laugh with my bad jokes, no matter how angry or sad you were... I haven't seen you smile for a long time and I don't know if you celebrate your birthday anymore” you reflected wistfully, almost as if you were talking to yourself. And well, in the face of Kaz's inexpressiveness, that's practically what you were doing.

He hadn't said anything yet and you concluded that all your effort was useless. It had been a mistake to go looking for him, as well as trying to get even the slightest proof that he had ever missed you and you wished you had never opened your mouth. You sighed to contain the urge to cry and without saying anything else you turned towards the exit, intending to leave and return only for your money, but Kaz's voice echoed. 

"Do you remember what I told Pekka?"

You stopped.

“You told him many things, you will have to be more specific”

"About not loving anything" he replied. Your hand trembled on the doorknob at the mere thought of what he was implying and I was able to hear your racing heart pounding in your chest. You heard footsteps and, still without moving, you heard him speak again "That's why I drifted apart”

You never, even in your wildest dreams, imagined that he would say something like that to you and perhaps you were just deluding yourself with the implication of the words, but it was enough to make you freeze in place.

"I still don't understand how that relates to me” you expressed in a low voice. Kaz took a few more steps towards you until you could see his shadow mingling with yours and you felt it was time to turn. He was watching you from above, seriously.

"I didn't want…" he trailed off. You would almost say he was nervous “I didn't want you to be…”

"A weak spot," you said without thinking, followed by a sigh that sounded almost amused "That's your problem, Kaz," you continued, your gaze far across the room, "You think love is a person's greatest weakness, when it's not like that"

"It is not?"

"No" you exclaimed with determination "I believe that... many times love is what keeps us alive. Struggling"

You were speaking for yourself when you said this. What was your motivation every day? In the past, the love for Kaz. Now, it was love for yourself and the hope that one day someone could love you with the intensity with which you loved others.

“I had already lost Jordie. I didn't want to lose you too,” he finally said and that's when your eyes locked with his. You never thought he would verbally express something like that.

“And did you prefer that I lose you?" you whispered in pain. You wanted him to be aware of things, because it seemed like it had never crossed his mind to stop thinking about your well-being and start thinking about your feelings. “You don't just lose someone when they die, Kaz. You can also lose those who are fully alive”

He didn't say anything, because he clearly didn't know what to answer to that, and while he reflected on your words, you caught a glimpse of a certain vulnerability in his blue eyes that you had rarely seen. I couldn't say that you knew the man in front of you better than anyone, but you had a considerable advantage thanks to the years you had lived with him.

“Okay, just… listen” you started to say, knowing he most likely wouldn't give you an answer “I know it's hard to live as we do— as all of us at The Barrel live, but the risks I decide or don't take. They are my decision, not yours. These years you have sought to keep me out of danger and I appreciate it, but you have to learn to trust me”

"I do. I trust you"

"Then show me," you replied. You couldn't help noticing that, even with his stained face, Kaz was still the most handsome man you'd ever seen “Friends do not avoid each other, nor do they move away and despite that, during all these years I have trusted you as from the first moment we were left alone”

You didn't know if you were saying the right thing, but at least you were saying something.

"And if it's too late?"

It was too late? Kaz wondered. He wondered if it was too late to open up to someone, to try to get over his trauma, to let go and finally love you the way he wanted to.

But all this remained as a thought, phrases that couldn’t leave his throat.

“It's not for me,” you assured him. “But my patience won't last forever. I think you should know that”

You couldn't even imagine how many emotions Kaz was trying to process at that moment, but even he himself didn't understand what a mess you'd made of him with that conversation. From his perception, he had admitted that he loved you, but from his eyes, you didn't seem affected by it. And you, contrary to what he thought, felt like you were going to faint.

You were about to leave, for the second time, but he spoke:

“Stay,” he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. “I don't know what to say, but… just stay here. I don't want us to be alone tonight”

Us. That fucking habit of Kaz's to speak in the plural and make you a nervous wreck.

You looked at the bed and found that it was too small for both of you, to which we had to add his refusal to be close to others. Proof of this was the unconscious movement of sticking your hands as close as possible to his body during the entire time you were talking.

"Use the bed, obviously you need it more than me" you muttered and went directly to the armchair. Fortunately your first impression wasn’t wrong, it was very comfortable.

The room was so small that the apparent distance between the pieces of furniture didn't mean much, so when he sat on the bed you could see him perfectly.

The memory of one of the times when both of you were in similar situations came to your mind. That night you had been woken by frightened screams from the next room, in that abandoned house where you and Kaz found shelter, forcing you out of bed to investigate.

It was hard to comfort a person without physically touching them, especially when he had nightmares, and over the months you'd had to get used to it. The boy hated waking you up, it made him feel guilty and stupid, but you always kept him company. You never spoke, never asked questions, you just stayed there so he knew he wasn't alone.

Maybe something like that was what Kaz needed tonight. 

"Rest" you exclaimed. His head turned to look at you and you detected a different and special glow in his eyes; as if it were a mixture of fear, softness, and gentleness. You appreciated that look for a few more seconds, which you feared you would never see again in your life, and then you reached out your hand to turn off the light on the desk.

Silence reigned in the darkness.

You settled in the chair, trying to figure out what would be the best sleeping position, and at the same time you heard Kaz slide between the sheets on the bed. After a while, your eyelids felt heavy, a consequence of the fatigue that the hustle and bustle of the day had left you, and when you were about to fall asleep, a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"Thank you. For everything”

The phrase was a whisper, a delicate caress in your ear, but you understood it clearly. And you decided to think that when Kaz said 'for everything' he meant literally everything you had selflessly done for him during his life; like he just realized you were important. But it's not that he had just noticed it, but that he had just accepted it.

You wanted to stretch out the moment as long as you could because, even if you weren't looking at him, you knew he was awake thanks to the sound of his breathing, but at some point sleep overcame you and you fell fast asleep.

Kaz had nightmares that night, like always, but the difference was that when he woke up in shock in the morning, you were in the same room. So seeing you there, keeping him company, was reason enough to calm him down.

And like every time this had happened, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

[strvngestark]

BASTARD AND THE BLOOD PRINCESS TUMBLR MASTERLIST

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | more to come

You and Kaz are bound to be enemies - you're his archenemy's daughter and he's a threat to your father's vision of future Ketterdam. When your father sends you to kill Kaz, something else happens - something you never would have believed would happen.

A semi-rewrite of the show/some of the books with a major twist and a big sideplot.

[strvngestark]

"Espionage" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Lord de Witt is throwing an exclusive banquet for socialites - just the perfect opportunity for Kaz to put his hands on whatever the aristocrat has in his safe. Fortunately, being an ambassador's daughter, you can easily smuggle him in but the two of you must pretend you're engaged to avoid suspicion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

If Jesper didn’t know Kaz, he’d think he was having a laugh.

“When you said you know someone, I was expecting everything but the daughter of an ambassador.” Then, in a slightly anxious manner, he turns to look at you apologetically. “No offence.”

There is something quite amusing in his uneasiness as though Jesper is expecting to be decapitated for as much as giving you a sour grimace. You’re probably the closest thing to nobility he’s ever been around.

“Worry not, sir,” you reassure him with a polite smile on your face, “I will try my best not to spoil your criminal quality.”

His eyebrows furrow and he leans towards Inej. “Did… did she just call me ‘sir’?” he asks quietly.

“Don’t get used to it,” she answers half-heartedly, busy pondering something else.

“How do you even know each other?” Jesper points between you and Kaz but the moment his index finger is directed towards you, he quickly puts his hand down. “I doubt you’ve been to the Barrel before.”

To any passerby, the sight of you and the Crows standing next to each other must look like a skit. With your expensive, light-coloured dress and back about as straight as a broomstick, you really do stand out like a sore thumb. Are those lowlifes bothering a proper lady or is she perhaps noble enough to offer them a few coins?

“That’s quite right. When my father was fraudulently accused of conspiring against the crown, mister Brekker,” out of pure habit you vaguely gesture towards him, “had been so kind as to solve this perplexing hoax. It is only fair that I agree to help him when he asks.”

Kaz checks his watch. Then, his expression suddenly becomes stern, focused, and you know exactly what it means.

“We should go,” he states. His eyes have a strange glint of both coldness and concealed worry to them. “There’s no backing out now.”

Your polite smile doesn’t falter. “I wasn’t considering such a thing.”

The dearth path around the lawn in front of the manor is blocked with countless carriages - horses of one freight have their nostrils pushed against the rolling stock of another cart. It seems as though Lord de Witt has invited half of the continent to his exclusive banquet. Half of them, one might assume, came out of courtesy or simply because of the other guests sure to attend.

Mixing into the crowd of rich men and aristocracy, choking on the powder and perfume, you tell Kaz the basics of banquets like this:

“Let me do the talking. You’re accompanying me, which among socialites makes you akin to a show horse. Of course, someone might ask you a question but it will be pure courtesy. They don’t actually care, because they don’t know you. Answer shortly and politely.”

“Will it not raise suspicion that the ambassador’s daughter is engaged to a no-one?”

“Not if he’s a First Army veteran, wounded on the front lines by a Fjerdan savage,” you say in a theatrical manner. His perpetual frown elicits a chuckle from you. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m sure you can sell it. Besides, if you seem grim enough, which shouldn’t be a problem honestly, the guests won’t dare ask any more questions.”

The porter nods knowingly in your direction. Despite his old age, he’s quick to recognize the little lady you once were. You offer him the invitation but he waves his hand in dismissal. His fingers tremble slightly, making you wonder in all of your melancholy whether he’d still be able to do all those small magic tricks he used to entertain you with.

Following the mob of guests, you end up in a spacious ballroom. Crystal chandeliers reflect candlelight, causing ethereal rainbows to dance across the frescoes painted on the ceiling. Some of the artwork presented landscapes, other battles and even Saints - all of them equally breathtaking. The hall is filled with a plethora of scents: vertigo-inducing perfume, imported fruits, freshly-cut flowers, braised meats. To Kaz, this is the smell of wealth but to you, the ballroom only smells of home.

Appearance-wise, Kaz falls a bit behind compared to the three-piece suits and cylinders but the difference is not stark enough for people to give him contemptuous glances. In all honesty, this will help you sell the yarn you’re spinning. After all, what veteran has enough money to buy a whole suit for just one evening?

“Come on, we should say our greetings to the host,” you say quietly while gently nudging his arm.

As though you are something of a Grisha yourself, the middle-aged man in question suddenly appears in front of you. His face has gained a few deep wrinkles since the last time you saw him but still, his prominent laughter lines are the first thing people notice about him. Considering what kind of person Lord de Witt is, it’s a reliable first impression - a rare occurrence among thieves and noblemen alike.

The man’s face beams with happiness when he recognizes you, his eyes nearly disappearing in a genuine smile. “Ah, принцесса!” he exclaims, opening his arms. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you.” Holding your hand, he meaningfully leans down but never presses a polite kiss against your skin. Instead, he curtly nods while maintaining eye contact, uneasy at the thought of such a gesture.

“I thank you for the kind words, Lord de Witt,” you answer. “It is a pleasure to be your guest.”

He furrows his eyebrows and dismissively waves his hand. “Nonsense, you’re not just an ordinary guest. Tell me, how’s your father? Is our ambassador in good health?”

“The weather is terrible on his knees, I’m afraid. Only laudanum and nettle curb his pain enough to let him work. If I may inquire as to where Lady de Witt is? I haven’t seen her among the guests.”

Lord’s face grows brighter once again but this time there’s a sense of longing in his tired, grey eyes. “My dear Betty left for Novyi Zem just a few days ago. Ever since Lady de Serre expressed interest in her antique collection, she’s been eager to go back.”

Kaz, so far unnoticed by the aristocrat, glances between you and the man. You’re exchanging mere greetings and courtesies, yet he’s learned quite a few interesting things in just those few sentences. Nobility, as it seems, will say everything and anything as long as they think they’re talking to an equal.

His inquisitive thoughts must have pushed some Saint’s hand because Lord de Witt suddenly turns his attention to him, although continues talking to you. “The dapper young man is your husband, I presume?”

“Not yet, unfortunately,” you say with a bashful giggle - very ladylike, even if forced. “Igor Dreesen,” you introduce him. Kaz shakes the Lord’s hand without ever giving away that he’s never heard that name before. “He has fought in the First Army, on the front lines.”

“You have my eternal gratitude, gentleman.” Lord de Witt has an iron grip on Kaz’s hand, holding it significantly longer than Brekker is comfortable with. “May we all have your bravery and loyalty. Please, enjoy the evening.”

Kaz waits for the Lord to be out of earshot before turning to you. “He seems to know you well.” Maybe you’re reading too much into it or maybe there is a hint of suspicion in his tone.

“When I was younger, I used to come here every week. Valeriya de Witt, Lord’s eldest daughter, taught me embroidery. I know this manor like my own home.”

“Then you surely know where the safe is.”

“It could be in his bedroom or in his office.”

Kaz cocks his head. “So you don’t actually know.”

“I’ve met quite a few noblemen and state officials, Kaz. The older the money, the less we’re careful. De Witt’s office is next door,” you motion your head to the side.

Strolling through the ballroom towards the office door, weaving your way between gold-threaded gowns and made-to-order suits, you can’t help but wonder about the master thief by your side or rather what the world looks like through his eyes. You can recall so many gossip exchanges where a group of complete strangers would discuss their wealth and business, believing that their secrets are safe among socialites similarly to unaffiliated thugs discussing their commissions over a pint of watered-down beer. In a thief’s world, you’re something of an encyclopedia on fast enrichment. Maybe telling a secret or two could be treacherous of you but in the grand scheme of things, you think it’s not nearly enough to cover your debt.

You lean towards Kaz, speaking in a low voice. “See that lady with a scandalously huge hat? That’s lady Maria de Bouvier, harbors so much contempt towards her stepmother, she’d probably be elevated if some of the jewelry was to disappear.”

Brekker spares you a questioning glance but doesn’t say anything. 

“Or that retired soldier by the pillar? Next to the girl dressed in all-white?” you ask him. His keen eye quickly finds the dark green jacket with an obnoxious amount of medals attached. “Captain Geoffrey van der Greiss, earned most of his fortune from smuggling. Open any crate with fish at the Eastern harbors and the sides of the box will be filled with cash. Yours to take if you can bear the smell.”

Kaz suddenly steps in your way, stopping you. His usual frown appears more like a scowl now. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he spits out. “You’re so eager to point me towards easy wealth. It’s not just about returning a favor, is it?”

You look away for a moment - you should have expected that if someone was to notice your motive, it would be Kaz Brekker himself. His face is still contorted into an expression of contempt or anger when your stare returns to him.

“Have you ever, even for a single second, considered what would have happened to me had my father been found guilty?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“I can’t say I have.”

“I often do. He would have been locked up in Hellgate or simply killed. The family fortune would dwindle rather quickly as my mother and I would live off of it. Then one day the money would run out, we’d have to sell our house and live modestly if not on the streets. No one would employ us because of the scandal and soon we’d find our place in a brothel. All of that did not happen because of you, Kaz.” His expression visibly softens, even if he’s doing his best not to show it. “I owe you my life.”

“I don’t want it.” 

Without waiting for you to continue, he resumes walking towards the office door. Although off-limits to the guests, the manor staff is simply too busy to pay attention to anything else other than restocking drinks and food. On the other hand, the guards employed by Lord de Witt are so convinced drunk aristocracy doesn’t need nannies that they’re playing cards in some dark, isolated corner and drawing lots when someone has to go swipe some alcohol and lamb from the kitchen. Perhaps they are paid to complete much different tasks but if someone is familiar with de Witt’s banquets, they wouldn’t be exactly surprised - a scandal is yet to happen inside his manor.

You meet Kaz’s gaze but immediately regret it. There’s something both chilling with determination and burning hot with focus, making you feel rather flustered at the intensity of it all. 

“Make sure no one comes in here,” he says quickly before swiftly crossing the remaining meters and sliding inside the room. For a man with a limp, he’s exceptionally agile.

Minutes go by while Kaz is absent and you begin to worry. What if someone caught him? Or if he got injured somehow? He may be something of an atelier of theft but he’s still a man, after all.

Debating whether to go after Kaz or trust his expertise, you don’t notice a young man approaching you:

“Excuse me, my lady, but you are the ambassador’s daughter, are you not?”

Torn out of your spiraling thoughts, you look up at him with wide eyes. He has a kind face with strong features. His tanned skin is in contrast with his creme-coloured suit, creating a quite enticing sight. Warm, brown eyes study you with interest.

“I am, master…” you make a meaningful pause.

The man immediately picks up on your cue. “Tolkov Ilya Romanovich. My father is the legat of Ketterdam’s Merchants’ Guild.” Contrary to Lord de Witt, Ilya doesn’t hesitate to plant a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Oh, I have heard about you. Horse racing enthusiast, is it not?”

He gives you a flustered chuckle. “My vices precede me, I see. As does your beauty, if I may say so.”

You feel your cheeks warm up. There’s something about Western men’s charm that really gnaws at a lady’s heart. “That’s very kind, master Tolkov.”

“Lord de Witt spoke of you with exceptional fondness. I thought it only appropriate to witness your marvel myself.”

At the same time, Kaz is slipping back through the office door into the ballroom. Judging by the lack of interest he attracts, none of the guests even noticed his disappearance. He is making his way back to you, when he catches the sight of a rather dignified man politely kissing your hand. Although you don’t look swept off your feet, there’s nothing akin to discomfort on your face either. Kaz feels sudden uneasiness in his chest like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be, while being unable to place his gaze elsewhere. He doesn’t even know his face has turned into a grimace of distaste.

“You’re finally back, my love!” you dramatically exclaim when Kaz reaches you and the stranger. His expression is rid of anything pleasant but you decide to play along for now. “Master Tolkov, this is my fiance, Igor Dreesen. Darling, this is the son of the legat of the Merchants’ Guild, Ilya Romanovich.”

Legat of the Merchants’ Guild? Finally someone worth knowing of.

Kaz shakes Ilya’s hand but that marks the extent of his politeness. “I do not take kindly to anyone descending on my lady,” he says in a stern voice.

“But of course, sir.” Tolkov nods curtly. Annoyed or not, he’s proficient at keeping his face blandly kind. “My sincere apologies.”

Ilya gently bows his head towards you before leaving the two of you alone. Your gaze follows him until the man disappears among coiffures and cylinders. Then, you look at Kaz with hardly hidden amusement:

“You play your part better than I was expecting.”

Kaz, however, completely ignores your comment. “The safe isn't here. It must be in the bedroom. Where is it?”

“Upper floor. There’s the grand staircase in the vestibule but we can take the kitchen stairs, there won't be many people in that part of the mansion.”

The presence of ground floor guards is revealed only by loud laughter from behind the door leading to the staff rooms. All of the guests could just leave at once and none of them would notice. Still, you’re exceptionally careful when sneaking between the tables that are bending under the weight of food - even a small misstep, nudging one of the silver platters, could cause a cacophony loud enough that someone might hear it, even if not the guards in question.

You’re leaning against the wall when walking up the spiral stairs. Cocking your head to the side, you’re trying to look into the hall on the first floor but there’s not much you can actually see. As it appears, theft takes a lot more faith than you had previously thought.

The upper floor guards are out of sight but you don’t let yourself give in to the sudden feel of relief - this is only the first step into this little big scheme. There’s still a safe to find and an exit to make.

There’s a long, red carpet covering most of the floor. Although it muffles Kaz’s cane, it also makes the steps of the guards hardly audible. If you do see one, you’ll have to rely on quick thinking and a certain level of stupidity accredited to aristocracy.

Left turn. Pair of doors. Two right turns. Another left and another right. And then - footsteps.

“Someone’s coming,” Kaz whispers. His keen eyes are scanning the long corridor to find anything remotely close to a hiding spot. Decorative cabinets could well work but only if the unwanted passerby doesn’t walk past them.

The idea, a true testimony of quick thinking and aristocratic carelessness, hits you like a bolt out of the blue:

“Push me against the wall,” you order him.

His head snaps towards you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen. “What?” he stutters out.

“No one likes clingy couples.”

There isn’t any time to discuss and ponder as the footsteps grow louder. Visibly displeased, he puts his arm against the wall next to your head. At first you’re wondering just how enraged your father would be had he heard about this but then you smell Brekker’s cologne and suddenly one nervousness is changed for another, a more bashful one.

The footsteps, as one might expect, belong to a lonely guard patrolling the manor. His face is grim even before he notices the misplaced lovers. When his eyes do glance at you and Kaz, the soldier’s cheeks visibly raise and the frown quickly becomes more of an expression of disgust. Passing by the two of you, he grunts in distaste or irritation and continues walking farther down the corridor.

Kaz, to your surprising displeasure, wastes no time in putting more space between the two of you when the guard is out of sight. No words are exchanged like a collective agreement to pretend this little embarrassment had never taken place. But, it can’t really hurt him if he doesn’t know you’re thinking about it, can it?

With a confident push, you open the ivory-coloured door, their golden decorations glistening in dim lighting.

Lord de Witt’s bedroom is strangely dark compared to the rest of the house. At first glance, there is nothing that stands out as a possible hiding spot for a safe: a bed that could easily fit five people, a vanity with boxes of jewelry and cosmetics, a small desk with private correspondence, a cold fireplace, a folding screen. The artisan taxidermy hanging on the walls only adds a touch of grim macabre.

But a master thief is not so easily dissuaded. You watch Kaz in a slight confusion and interest as he walks through the room, gently knocking against solid wood or carefully. brushing his hand along some surfaces. More than once he tapped different parts of the floor with his cane, only to let out a short sigh as if the strange rite gave him some kind of information but not necessarily the one he was hoping for.

Then, as though he had known all along or played a secret magic trick, he pulls the base of a taxidermied boar’s head. The decoration, for a lack of better word, moves on hinges, revealing a strongbox - one of those that will survive explosives as the manufacturer promises. The safe has a dial and a handle, rendering any kind of traditional lockpicking useless. But Kaz Brekker, as you’re about to witness, is not much of a traditional thief either:

He puts his ear against the iron box, turning the dial a few times in one direction and the other. Then, he lays his other hand on the safe’s door, his whole body leaning against it. Kaz begins slowly turning the dial in one direction. A silence falls between the two of you.

You can’t be sure whether the tension you’re feeling is because of the hallway perplexity or because he’s so determined to open this strongbox but either way, you’re completely uncomfortable with that. “To be honest, I used to be intimidated by you,” you throw at him in hopes of some kind of conversation, no matter how pointless.

“What changed?” he asks in an absent voice. His hand stops turning the dial only to start rotating it in the opposite direction - whatever he’s doing, it seems to be working.

“You have turned out to make a rather lovely spouse.”

A loud click resounds in the room and Kaz immediately pushes down on the handle, opening the strongbox. He reaches inside, pulls out some documents and quickly reads through them. Some he puts back, others he stuffs between his waistcoat and shirt.

“Such nimble fingers you have. I know a market for that,” you joke partially expecting the thief to say something sultry enough to get you to be quiet for the rest of the night.

He spares you a glance and goes back to rummaging through the contents of the safe. In an unexpected act of goodwill, he takes only some of the cash. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Even a lady of my sort has her weaknesses.”

You wait for his answer but Kaz doesn’t as much as look over his shoulder at you as though he hasn’t even heard your words. Although awkwardly, you patiently wait for him to be finished with whatever selective theft he’s committing. That tense silence again.

After a longer while, he closes the safe and locks it again. When he turns around to face you, something glistens between his fingers - a string of pinkish pearls. They flow along the shape of his hand as he offers you the necklace.

A quiet sigh escapes your lips. “I don’t want a payback, Kaz,” you shake your head to accentuate the refusal. “You have helped my family tremendously, this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand, “is the least I could do for you.”

“This isn’t payment,” he states.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

His intense gaze bores into you for a minute or two before he slowly answers. “It’s a bastard’s inclination.”

With a flustered ‘oh’, you take the string of pearls from him, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks. Still feeling his passionate gaze gliding along your face, you’re a little too abashed to meet his eye. Who would have thought - a thief with a heart!

[strvngestark]

hey!

i literally binge read all your kaz fics so i was wondering if you could write a kaz x reader where the reader is a love interest? defiantly something fluffy if possible

maybe as a prompt the reader is a uni student and none of the crows no about her but they’ve noticed kaz sneaking out to see her so they follow him and they finally meet? no pressure at all, just a suggestion!! 🫶

i can't deny it any longer

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

A/N: Hi, love! I noticed your Kaz binge and I really appreciated it <333 I'm so glad you like what I write. I got way too deep into this request, but I really adored writing it, so I hope you like it. Even though it's a bit long. This is just filled to the brim with pining and fluff, but I'm not sorry. Thank you for the request!

Summary: An unlikely friendship gets revealed, and the Crows intend to make more of it.

Genre: Fluff and Comedy

Word Count: 6.6K (This is the longest fic I ever wrote and I have no clue why dsaljh)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, feelings and ripping peoples' eyes out :D

None of the Crows dared to speak on the walk back to the Slat. The job had been a complete disaster, and Kaz was fuming. Not even Inej, who had never feared Kaz’s outbursts before, attempted to talk him down. This was going to be a fun evening.

When they finally reached the Slat, he didn’t even spare them one word before he limped up the worn staircase that lead to his office. They didn’t go after him. It was best to allow him to sort things out on his own, rather than giving him another reason to lash out at them. Instead, they huddled together in the living room area to assess and treat their wounds, also bringing a few bottles of whiskey into the equation while they were at it.

Half an hour later, they heard heavy footsteps accompanied by the clicking of a cane coming down the stairs. All of them readied themselves for the berating of a lifetime once Kaz would reach their floor, but the footsteps didn’t come closer. The footsteps started to fade and become barely audible until the front door of the Slat was slammed shut. The rest of the Crows just gaped at each other with questioning glances, only Inej silently slipping towards the window, trying to spot him in the colourful crowd outside. But he was already too far away for anyone to see him.

“Phew, that was a close one,” Jesper exclaimed enthusiastically, taking another sip from his drink. “I doubt that I could have dealt with another one of his tirades on gun safety or no gambling on the job.” His voice mocked Kaz’s stern intonation, but no one seemed to latch onto the joke. He only earned a dismissive look from Wylan, who was still busy dusting the soot off his jacket.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Nina asked, her head turning to the Suli girl still residing at the window. As much as the Heartrender wanted to be mad at him, she knew that Kaz wasn’t necessarily skilled at taking care of himself or knowing when to stop, so she still felt a certain sense of dread.

“He’s probably off to get his head smashed in because he can’t take a loss,” Matthias grumbled, leaning back into the cushion of the couch, a prominent frown on his face. Nina only gave him a jab to the rips in an effort to reprimand him.

“I have absolutely no clue.” Inej began with a huffed breath. “But I’m sure that he knows exactly where he’s going.”

“What does that mean?” Wylan raised his brows.

“He’s been secretly going out a lot recently. Specifically at night or when he thinks that no one is watching. I began noticing it three weeks ago and I didn’t think it was that odd. However, by now I’m starting to get a bit worried. He always leaves when something went wrong and I just can’t seem to figure out where he’s going.”

“And you’ve been keeping that from us the whole time?” Jesper questioned, a devilish grin settling on his lips. “That is perfect blackmailing material, Inej! Kaz Brekker, sneaking out in the middle of the night to do what? Does he have a second identity that he’s been hiding from us? Is he off to go on secret jobs? Or maybe he’s visiting his secret partner?”

“Kaz Brekker having a secret partner?” Nina snorted, very much enjoying the way this conversation developed. “You don’t really think that’s likely, do you?”

“That’s the thing that you hold to be the least likely?” Wylan muttered amusedly.

“Have you ever tried to track him?” The Sharpshooter directed his question at Inej again. He was determined to know everything and would not stop until he did. “I mean, we evidently all care about his well-being,” his tone was audibly sarcastic, even though everyone knew that he actually did care, “so it would be best to keep tabs on him.”

“I did once. Somehow he knew that I was there and he told me off. From then on I didn’t feel like it would have been appropriate. He obviously doesn’t want us to know, and I think we should respect that.”

“Well, I think we should follow him the next time. Just to check up on him, of course” By now Jesper was fully convinced of getting behind his friend’s secret nights out. He exchanged a devious glance with Nina, whereas the other three Crows just rolled their eyes. They would definitely tag along, though.

On the other side of Ketterdam, you were busy finishing your last exam of the semester. It had been quite the straining term, so you were glad to finally be done with it. Once you left the exam hall, the light of the day had already subsided, announcing a bleak evening.

Normally, you wouldn’t have gone straight home after taking an exam, but none of your friends had to take the same exam, so they wouldn’t have been down for your usual visit to the local pubs. And going out alone was absolutely not an option that you would consider. Well, you would have considered it if you had the chance to visit a particular club. However, walking around the Barrel at night as a young university student with basically no self-defence skills didn’t seem like the best idea if you plan on finishing your degree. Realistically, you also had only one good reason to drop by the gambling den anyway. A reason that you were way too invested in and that probably didn’t even like you back.

You bit the inside of your cheek as your mind was invaded by thoughts about Kaz Brekker. The friendship between the two of you was fairly unlikely to anyone else. The Bastard of a Barrel being friends with a plain university student. But after you had caught him red-handed while he tried to steal classified institute information, yet still decided to let him go, he became instantly interested in getting to know more about you. At first, you assumed that he only wanted to get close to you since you had easy access to quite a few institutes and libraries. Well, it turns out that that wasn’t exactly the case. Your small flat became something close to a retreat to him. Whenever things at the Slat started to weigh down on him, he would come to you. It was an odd picture, watching Dirtyhands, one of the most feared men in Ketterdam, sprawled out on your couch, ranting about his day, but by now it was almost like a habit.

For some reason, the young crime boss had managed to fully capture your interest. In other words, you were completely and utterly besotted with him. And it was humiliating to say the least. He would never be able to love you back. Not the way you did at least.

You had been so lost in thought that you hadn’t even acknowledged where you were going until you stood at the main entrance of your flat building. You were definitely in need of a nap. After climbing the mountain of stairs leading up to your door, that is. But when you were just about to pull the bundle of keys out of your pocket, you heard a chair scraping over the floorboards inside your room. Maybe you had to scratch that well-deserved nap.

With cautious steps, you crept towards the door, pulling out the delicate dagger you kept attached to your belt - of course, a gift from Kaz. Even though the University District wasn’t too far away from the Barrel, there never had been a break-in close to your flat unit before, so the prospect of a stranger currently rummaging through your belongings scared you greatly. Slowly you pressed down the handle, allowing you to see inside the cramped flat. As your eyes roamed the small space, they were met with another pair of eyes staring back at them. You were close to letting out a shriek until you realised who the stranger was.

The dark-clad figure stretched out in one of your armchairs, discarding the book he had been browsing through. He acted as if it was completely reasonable for him to be in your home without you knowing about it. You closed the door behind you, considering whether you should scold him or whether you should be glad that he was here.

“Put the knife down, love.” Saints, how you hated him addressing you with these damned cutesy pet names. “You’d be more likely to accidentally pluck someone’s eye out than to actually defend yourself judging by the way you’re holding it.” Bastard.

“I’d say plucking someone’s eye out would be a great way to defend myself.” You dropped your bag at the entrance, walked over to the living room and sat on the armrest of your couch to calm your aggressively thudding heart.

“Not if you do it by accident. That would probably count as aggravated assault if you’d ask the Staadwatch.”

“As if you care about that the Staadwatch has to say.” He chuckled in response to that. He didn’t laugh - you weren’t even sure if he could - but a chuckle from Kaz Brekker was enough to make your head spin. Pathetic. “On another note, please tell me that you didn’t break in through the window again. I’m running out of excuses for all the scratches on the window sill.”

“I promise that I didn’t break in through the window.”

“Thank you.”

“I picked the lock on your front door this time.” You groaned, whilst simultaneously biting back a grin. “And I would also advise you to get new ones. They are way too flimsy. Very easy to outsmart. Especially for people with ill intentions.”

“Aw, that almost sounds like you care about me, Brekker.” He didn’t have one of his usual cocky comebacks at hand, so he merely gave you a warning glare, knowing that you weren’t afraid of him. As crazy as it sounded, you fully trusted him to never harm you.

For the first time this evening, you allowed yourself to take a proper look at the man across from you. It wasn't unusual for him to look like an utter mess when he pays you a visit, today he seemed just a bit more burnt out than what you were used to. There were prominent bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to the marble-like paleness of his skin. His hair was slightly dishevelled and it didn't help that he continuously ran his hand through it. All in all, he looked like he should've retired to bed a long time ago. Instead, he was here.

“Didn’t you have a job today? Shouldn’t you still be off completing some teenage criminal business?” You inquired, not necessarily caring too much about the bloody details of his work, but wanting him to continue talking. He scowled and that already told you the reason for today’s visit. “Ah, it went well I assume.”

“Don’t get me started.” You got him started. In fact, his rant almost took one hour, only allowing you to give some sparse comments in between. You would have to lie if you said that you were actively listening to what he was saying. As soon as he started telling you about how his ‘Plan F’ failed, you had already forgotten the initial intent of the mission.

“If I had stayed at the Slat any longer I would probably have ripped somebody’s eyes out,” Kaz gnarled and judging by his expression he was being completely serious.

“Good to know that coming here calms your murderous tendencies, Kaz. Even though, I believe that a good night’s sleep would have done the same thing.”

“Are you implying that you would like me to leave?”

“I’m implying that you look like you haven’t had a proper rest in forever.” You pushed yourself off your makeshift seat, walking over to the cabinet where you kept your alcohol and grabbing one of the rather fancy wine bottles. “Actually, I’m quite glad to have your company. Drinking alone is always such a bummer.” A bit clumsily, you filled up two wine glasses and handed him the slightly fuller one, which he sceptically accepted.

“Are we drinking to celebrate or to forget?” He smirked, raising the glass to his lips and taking a brief sip from it. The eye contact between you never faltered as he spoke. It almost made you forget what you actually wanted to drink on.

“Depending on the exam results, we might have to be a bit ambivalent with our reasoning.” You mirrored his previous movements, the velvety alcohol numbing your throat. You didn’t expect him to remember the fact that you had an exam today, he had so much on his mind without your insignificant ramblings, but his muddled expression told you that he did know.

“You took your final exam for this semester and the first thing you do is go home with the intention of drinking alone?”

“And you just returned from a botched job that cost you a thousand kruge, and presumably a whole bunch of nerves, yet the first thing you do is walk from the Barrel to the University District to stay at a lousy flat?” You gave him a self-satisfied smile, which he only returned with an eye roll.

“Seems like we both tend to go for the unreasonable.” He replied, a foreign sense of sobriety clouding his usually stern and cold eyes. Something clicked inside him after that conversation, but he didn’t have the will to tell you. Not right now.

Kaz only left when he caught the way your head began to slump to the side every other minute and how the time between your yawns got shorter and shorter. When he strode through the streets, he was somewhat startled by the fact that the sun had already begun to rise. He had spent the whole night with you, something he had never dared to do before, the apprehension of becoming too close - too attached - to you constantly lingering in the back of his mind. Tonight felt just right, though. Maybe he could allow himself one more weakness.

Breakfast at the Slat was surprisingly calm. As of now. One Crow was currently still missing, much to the delight of his friends’ mental well-being. Nevertheless, it still made some of them feel uneasy. What did they have to expect once Dirtyhands would join them? Was his absence just there to give them a false sense of security?

“He can’t possibly still be asleep.” Wylan groaned, genuinely just wanting to put the whole situation past him. He hated confrontation, especially when that confrontation was coming from Kaz, but he also hated the uncomfortable tension that was emitting from every single one of his friends.

“I doubt that he slept at all.” Inej returned, her voice still heavy with slumber. “I didn’t hear him coming back yesterday, so it must have been pretty late into the night. He wouldn’t go to bed at that point.”

The firm shutting of the front door made their heads turn. Realistically, it could have been anyone, it’s not like the Slat was inhabited by the Crows alone, but they all had a sneaking suspicion about who it could be.

That suspicion was confirmed once they heard the clinking of a cane coming up the stairs. And this time, the noise approached them determinedly. Kaz entered the room quietly, acknowledging the presence of the others with a mumbled greeting. There was no malice when he spoke, none of his usual venom could be found. Perhaps it was the veil of tiredness that was visible on his features, but he didn’t seem to have the intention of berating them. He looked…at ease?

“Good morning, boss,” Jesper was the first to speak up, causing Inej to give him an alarmed glance. She did not want this to get blown out of proportion, especially not because of one of the Sharpshooter’s humorous comments. “Are my eyes deceiving me or is there a certain lack of a frown on your face?” Alright, here they go again.

Kaz, who had made a beeline to pour himself a cup of morning coffee, didn’t show the underlying discomfort questions like these evoked. It was obvious that all of them were suspecting that something had changed - Saints, it was a miracle that none of them had brought his occasional disappearances up earlier - but he couldn’t allow himself to feed their theories.

“That rang true until you opened your mouth, Jesper.” He groggily replied, deciding that it would be best to avoid them for the remainder of the day.

“He’s totally hiding something,” Nina whispered as they listened to his footsteps disappear upstairs.

“Oh, he so is. But I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

To their dismay, Kaz’s secret trips stopped for the following days. But roughly a week after the uncomfortable breakfast encounter, Inej barged into the living room area, a devious grin on her lips - unusual for the normally holier-than-thou Wraith.

“He left! He’s on his way towards the Financial District.” Without wasting any more words, the Crows scrambled to their feet. It looked almost comical, five young adults that were barely done with their teenage years hurrying out of the Slat to stalk one of their friends.

Inej obviously led the party, tracking Kaz from a fair distance without eliciting his attention. Against her initial suggestion, he didn’t choose to stay in the Financial District, rather sternly crossing right through it. His target destination seemed to be the campus of Ketterdam University. But what kind of business would he have here?

They watched as he approached an outdated flat building, entering it without a second thought. Great, now they only had to figure out what room he would be in. They, meaning Inej.

“Am I dreaming or did Kaz Brekker just knock and act like a normal member of society, instead of breaking into my home as usual?” You quipped, beckoning him to come in with a warm smile. It was embarrassing to say, but even one week of him not coming by felt like an eternity of being deprived of his presence.

“I apologize, the next time I’ll just resort to throwing a brick through your window to not make you question your grip on reality.” It was a stupid joke, a terrible one even, yet you couldn’t help letting out a laugh. A laugh that made Kaz’s mind go blank whenever he heard it.

Today’s visit had no specific reason. He was starting to accept that he didn’t need a specific reason to come here, other than just simply wanting to see you. He wouldn’t say that out loud, and neither would you question it. It was enough to just be here. To hear you laugh at his dry humour. To listen to you talk about your day. Hell, even merely to enjoy the comfortable silence, as long as you were here.

Your usual routine was barely about to begin when one of the tiles on the rooftop next to your window crashed against the cobblestone a few stories lower. The sound of the tile coming down didn’t concern you. The rustling coming from right outside your walls did. You looked over to Kaz, who did not look particularly concerned. A knowing grimace graced the sharp lines of his face.

Without any warning, he pushed himself off the armchair, striding towards the window and forcing it open. You couldn’t see what he was searching for, but you spotted the exact moment when he found it. Judging by the way his jaw clenched you could only pray that he hadn’t gotten both of you into trouble.

“I know that you’re here, Inej.” Inej? The Wraith? What was she doing here? “I know that all of you are here.” His hoarse voice called into the darkness of the night. All of them? This made you a bit anxious. You joined him at the window, though you weren’t able to see anything since respecting his boundaries with touch also meant giving him enough space to move freely.

You almost jumped when a hooded figure appeared at the small platform in front of your window. The person pulled down their head-covering, revealing the apologetic face of a young Suli girl. This had to be Inej, Kaz’s unofficial second in command. He had told you quite a few things about her, but being face to face with her - well, sort of - was completely different. After she had pried her eyes away from Kaz’s menacing stare, she turned to look at you, and you could swear that the faintest hint of a smile flashed over her face.

“Kaz, listen, we’re terribly sorry for invading your personal affairs like that. We were just a bit-”

“You were what? Concerned about my safety? Or just way too curious for your own good?” His voice sounded dangerously low, a tone he had never used in your presence. “Leave. I’ll talk to you - all of you - once I’m back at the Slat.”

“Kaz, let them come in. It’s not a big deal.” Even though you weren’t sure who else the ‘they’ would entail, you didn’t feel like creating an argument over no harm done.

“They followed me here to satisfy their need for gossip and you don't think that's a big deal?"

"It's not like that." The Suli girl interrupted. "We were genuinely worried about you sneaking off in the middle of the night and just wanted to make sure that you were okay." He didn't completely believe that, but as his gaze turned to meet yours again, he let out a sigh.

"Fine." He lamented, audible enough for everyone to hear before trudging back to the couch in hopes to ignore whatever was about to happen.

Almost soundlessly, the Wraith slipped into your flat, looking around carefully as she took in her surroundings. She offered you her hand, in an attempt to at least give you the decency to introduce herself.

"Please forgive us for disturbing you like this, especially in the privacy of your own home. I'm aware that this isn't the ideal first impression. I'm Inej, one of Kaz's…friends." She was careful with her words, knowing that Kaz was listening in on everything she said. But you didn't care about his grudges. You had always wanted to meet his Crows, the few friends he was keen on telling you about, so their sudden appearance was actually quite delightful.

"Don't bother worrying about this. It's fine, trust me. There’s room for all of us, and some more company doesn’t hurt." You tried to reassure her, but a knock at the door announced the arrival of the others. Upon opening the door, you were met with the four remaining Crows, who gingerly shuffled into your small living space, greeting you with muttered apologies you didn’t pay any mind to. They were quite an interesting crowd, you had to note. The blonde mountain of a man entered first, accompanied by a radiant young woman, dressed in a red dress that fit her perfectly. Your mind immediately wandered to the many times Kaz had been talking about Matthias Helvar’s broody nature and Nina Zenik’s hatred towards his haircut - that had to be them. You identified the last two people as Wylan Van Eck and Jesper Fahey. The shy redhead, who had been the most apologetic out of the group was quickly pulled away by the charming Zemeni man, who only gave you a curt nod as he pushed past you to the seating area.

Even though Kaz was already on edge about your hospitality, you still went out of your way to hurry to the kitchen and bring out a few more glasses and a decanter of water. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be seen as a negligent host, especially when it came to the friends Kaz had told you so much about him

The whole group sat scattered around your minuscule living room area, occupying every seat but the empty space next to their boss on the couch. He noticed your hesitance and slid a bit further towards the armrest, wordlessly telling you that it was okay, maybe even a bit welcome to sit next to him. Without thinking too much about it, you accepted his offer, attaining some stunned glances from his team.

"I'm so pleased to finally meet all of you." You beamed after finally settling in and introducing yourself briefly, earning a pleading look from the man sitting next to you. A look you bluntly chose to ignore. "Kaz has been droning on about his Crows since I've known him."

The man who you had rightfully assumed to be Jesper shot a teasing glance at Kaz. Any intention of a comment leaving his lips was quickly extinguished by one of Kaz's muttered threats, which you couldn’t completely make out, but that seemed to be enough of a warning to shut him up.

“I wish we could say the same,” The Heartrender spoke up, her voice soft and pleasant as she gave you a calming smile. “But Kaz failed to mention that he had other…friends.” Her tone was reluctant and you could basically feel the man in question tense up next to you. The realization dawned on you that they were probably all thinking that you were romantically involved. A thought you had nothing against, in all honesty, but you didn’t intend on admitting that in the near future.

“Not that we would have believed him had he told us earlier.” Matthias’s thick Fjerdan accent added dryly.

“But of course, we’re very happy to hear - and see - that he isn’t the secluded hermit he makes himself out to be.” The Sharpshooter snickered, satisfied with the way this situation had turned out. “Even though we are kind of hurt that you didn’t think about introducing this gorgeous lady to us. Were you just going to keep her hidden away from us until you suffer a probable untimely death? You should have brought her to the Crow Club to meet us sooner. I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded.”

“You must be really lovely company if Kaz decided to keep you all to himself.” Nina directed her attention back to you. You felt your heartbeat pick up its pace. She was definitely insinuating exactly what you thought she was. It only got worse when you recalled that she was very likely listening in on the accelerated thudding inside your chest.

“Maybe I just didn’t think that she would enjoy your company, Zenik.” He retorted smugly, causing the Grisha to frown. I wouldn’t want her to be affected by your questionable influence.” His last sentence reeked of sarcasm and you knew it, yet the girl on the other side of the room put on her best offended expression.

“That’s rich coming from a man that doesn’t shy away from ripping people’s eyes out if they wronged him. Talk about enjoyable company.” You were no stranger to the Barrel’s brutality, even though Kaz didn’t necessarily talk that much about the bloody details of his job, so this information didn’t significantly faze you.

“If she gets along with Kaz this well, she’ll get along with us just fine,” Wylan added, enticing a chuckle from his boyfriend, who had one arm slung around his shoulder. You didn’t miss the faint hue of pink on Kaz’s cheeks after the Merchling put additional emphasis on the ‘this well’ part of his statement. Was he seriously flustered?

However, his theory seemed to ring true. The rest of the evening was spent chatting about your respective lives and a lot of jokes - most of them made at Kaz’s expense. The teasing about him sneaking out to meet you seemed to be ceaseless, and it affected him more than you would have expected. Maybe that was the reason why he was so reluctant to introduce them to you.

When the night gradually came to an end, you picked up the mugs of tea and coffee that had begun to accumulate on the living room table, moving to bring them to the kitchen. Inej, who had been rather reserved for the majority of the evening, was set on helping you. It seemed like she had something to get off her chest in private, so you blindly agreed. Your heart stung a bit when you thought about the possible discussion topics she had planned to hit you with. It was no secret that she and Kaz were quite close, but he never told you about the true nature of their relationship. For all you knew they could have been in a steady relationship for years now. However, you didn’t nurture that thought for your own good.

The two of you sauntered to the kitchen, putting all the glasses and mugs into the sink to be dealt with at some point later. She carefully closed the door behind her before she let her back rest against it. She really did want to talk to you. Mentally, you were already prepared for the worst.

“Y/N, I bit my tongue the whole evening and would really hate to pry, especially after the unlucky circumstances under which we had to meet for the first time, but there is a question that I just can’t get out of my head.” Shit, this was going to hurt. “Are Kaz and you, uhm, seeing each other?” Your cheeks instantly turned bright red. Nothing ever happened between the two of you, other than yearning glances on your part and comments that could be interpreted as flirty on his, but it had gotten painfully obvious that you weren’t entirely satisfied with that.

“Kaz and me?” You sputtered, trying to act like this was the most incredulous suggestion to ever exist. “Oh, we’re just friends - well, if you can call it that - I promise there is nothing to worry about!” Inej cocked her head to the side, mustering you with a bemused expression as you were still wrestling for the right words. You had expected her to be relieved or to not believe you and end up lashing out at you. What you hadn’t expected her to do was smile.

“What should I be worried about?”

“I mean, uhm, you and Kaz-”

“Oh no, absolutely not.” She laughed, throwing her head back as she realized what you were so unsure about. “There is nothing between me and Kaz. He’s my friend, but nothing more.” These words felt as if something heavy got lifted off your shoulders. At least you were not about to be stabbed by the Wraith for having a crush on someone she could’ve been with. Now, you would just have to deal with the feelings not being mutual.

“The same goes for me and Kaz. We’re just friends.” You tried to lie to yourself.

“I think he might be on a different page.”

“What?” Her way of speaking made you realize why she and Kaz were friends in the first place. Both of them would rather die than speak in coherent sentences.

“None of us believed that Kaz was seeing someone when we became aware of him sneaking out. To us, it would have been more likely for him to have a second identity. So when we followed him tonight, we didn’t expect…this.” She gestured around the room, her hands pointing up and down your body. “He seeks you out when he’s stressed - not because he needs to get away from us, he has his office for that and knows how to keep us at an arm’s length - but because he wants to be here. The six of us have been friends for so long, and I don’t think that he ever looked at any of us the way he looked at you. It may not be obvious to you, and I wouldn’t blame you, that man is more than emotionally constipated, but whatever feelings you harbour towards him, I’m sure that they are reciprocated.” Your head felt light. Could she be right? Could Kaz Brekker ever feel even slightly the same as you did?

“I’d like to believe that, Inej, I really would. But I promise that the feelings between us are merely platonic, and it’s better that way.”

“What a shame. It would do Kaz some good to have something consistent - something good - in his life.” With that, she pushed herself off the wood behind her, giving you an encouraging wink before she returned to the others.

Unbeknownst to you, Kaz had suffered a similar fate whilst you were talking to Inej.

The five remaining friends had waited for the door to close behind you and the Wraith, their heads snapping towards Kaz when they heard it click.

“So, Kaz-”

“No matter what you were planning to say, keep it to yourself, Zenik.” He wasn’t having this at all.

“Are you two dating?” Wylan asked eagerly, prompting Kaz to groan in displeasure.

“Y/N and I are not dating. And after all the trouble you five caused me today it’s bold to even imply that.”

“Come on Kaz, we may lack your skills in deduction, but we are not blind. We all see the way you look at her.” Jesper taunted his friend playfully, wriggling his brow suggestively.

“I look at her the same way I look at all of you.”

“I sure as hell hope you don’t. I don’t want you to give me heart eyes.”

“I’m not giving her ‘heart eyes’, Jesper.” There was audible disdain in his voice as he repeated Jesper’s words to him.

“If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night.” Even Matthias joined in on the teasing. He truly was done for.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Kaz rubbed his eyes with his hand, hoping that once he had removed it from his face, his friends would stop pestering him about this.

“That list would be too long for us to go through now. Especially if you intend on keeping your love interest.” Jesper was really playing with fire at this point.

“I’ll say it one last time. She is not my love interest. We are not in a relationship. The relationship we have is just as platonic as the relationships I have with you.”

“Because slipping out in the middle of the night just to see her is very platonic?” Nina grinned sheepishly. “Just admit that you like her and ask her out, for Saint’s sake. What are you so afraid of? Rejection? Being honest with yourself? Is that the way to defeat the mighty Dirtyhands? Should we send a message to Pekka Rollins?”

“That’s enough.” Kaz’s voice turned cold. Spying on his private business was one thing, but acting as if he owed them a heartfelt confession was too much. “This is none of your concern, it never was in the first place.”

Before he could add anything more, the kitchen door creaked open with you and Inej emerging from the room behind it. There was a shared understanding to not bring that topic up for the remainder of the night. They still hoped that one of you would make a move, but they couldn’t force you to, so they just had to drop it.

After an hour or so more of talking, they chose to leave you alone again. The Crows said their goodbyes, already inviting you to get drinks at the Club during the next week. All of them wandered towards the door, except for one.

“I’ll join you later. Go back home.” Kaz ordered, provoking Nina, Jesper and Inej to exchange giddy glances. But they still left without asking any questions. Once they were finally gone, he turned to face you, visibly wound up over everything that happened today. “I apologize for their behaviour. That was completely unacceptable, and them simply showing up with-” You silenced him with a simple hand gesture and a smile.

“Kaz, it didn’t bother me. I actually appreciated having them around, even if you didn’t- They are precisely the people that I would expect you to be friends with.”

“Fine. But I hope they won’t make this a habit.”

“Are you afraid of having to share my attention, Brekker?”

“No. I just don’t see the point in seeking relief from a headache just for the headache to follow you everywhere you go.” He replied sarcastically, relishing in the dizzy feeling your laugh gave him. Maybe he should listen to his friends for once.

“Oh, hold on a second!” You paused, hurrying over to dig in the drawers of the cabinet standing in your hallway. After a bit of rummaging, you pulled out something small and shiny. He couldn’t make out the exact shape since you kept it concealed in your fist, but he suspected that it might be for him. “Open your hand.”

“Why?”

“Kaz. Just do it.” He stretched out his arm, letting his gloved hand hover a few inches away from yours. In a matter of seconds, something long and partially heavy was dropped into his palm. It was a silver key.

“What is this for?” He questioned, pulling the gift closer to him to inspect it further. This caused him to miss the flash of embarrassment that rushed over your features.

“It’s a key to my flat.” You confessed meekly, his eyes snapping to meet yours. “I had a copy made after last week. Just so you don’t have to break into my flat anymore.” His face remained calm, but his mind was running wild. You gave him a key to your flat. A key that would allow him to see you whenever he wanted without having to risk getting caught whilst trying to pick your lock. “But you don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to. I just thought it would make things easier. Even if your little headaches might stop you from visiting me that often since they know where I live now.”

“No, I, uhm, thank you. It will at least make me look less like a creep.” He chuckled. If there ever was a right moment, this would be it. “But we should probably consider a different place to meet each other once in a while. Just to keep the others off my case.”

“Oh? What are you suggesting?”

“I heard there’s a new waffle place opening up this weekend, so maybe you would like to see if it’s any good? With me, I mean.” Kaz prepared for the bone-crushing reaction that would follow his offer. You wouldn’t say yes.

“I’d love to.” Saints, he did not expect that.

“It’s a date then?” The words were supposed to be sarcastic, but his brain was just beginning to work through the implications of you agreeing to go out with him.

“It’s a date.”

When he eventually managed to force himself out of the comfort of your flat, he still held the little silver key in his hand, constantly turning it over in his palm. It would take him some time to work through what had just happened. You gave him a key and accepted his clumsy shot at asking you out. The Crows would never let him live that down.

And as if his thoughts had summoned them, they were already expectantly waiting for him at the entrance of the flat building. Jesper was the first to notice the key.

“Please don’t tell me that this is what I think it is.” The corners of his lips were pushed up as high as humanly possible.

“She gave you a key to her flat?” Nina squealed, resisting the urge to engulf him in a hug.

“Voluntarily?” Wylan added in disbelief.

“And I asked her out. Are you all happy now?”

“You did what now?”

[strvngestark]

An Understanding

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Warnings: wounds, blood, trauma, swearing, lots of Kaz’s threats, depictions of violence, the usual Kaz Brekker stuff, not proofread, a lot is going on

Summary: when Wylan’s friend who has her own reasons to wear gloves needs to patch up Kaz, he realizes he may not be so different after all

A/n: I just finished SOC and CK and had to write this. As someone who has a bad leg being held together by screws and spite and wore gloves through the pandemic since I’m immunocompromised, I just immediately felt so seen by Kaz’s character and got this idea! Also Matthias is ALIVE and well.

Wylan was a good friend of yours and every once in a while you helped him with creating new chemicals and explosives. You knew he worked with the infamous Kaz ‘Dirtyhands’ Brekker, but you had never met him until Wylan got completely stuck and needed your help. The only way to do that was to let you in on the specifics of the heist and Kaz wouldn’t let that happen unless he met you first. You knew that meant he was going to size you up like prey looking for any weaknesses to exploit if you betrayed his trust, but thankfully, Jesper trusted his boyfriend and Wylan trusted you, so Jesper didn’t let Kaz treat you too coldly. That, and Inej had probably managed to put together your entire life story for Kaz a long time ago.

When Kaz finally decided to let you in on a few details of the heist you immediately knew how to help Wylan and you two worked tirelessly to find out how to get the Crows in and out undetected. You two finally perfected an explosive that would be silent yet strong enough to get through the steel door separating the Crows from their target.

You waited patiently at the Crow club in Kaz’s office. The plan was for Inej to leave the city unspotted with the thing they were stealing (they hadn’t told you what) while Jesper and Wylan caused problems on the opposite end of Ketterdam to draw attention far from Inej. Kaz was supposed to come back to the Crow Club and act as if he had never left. Since you were somewhat in the loop, you were expected to stay behind incase anything went wrong and claim Kaz had been here the entire time. You weren’t entirely sure where Nina and Matthias were in this plan, but they were gone too. Apparently all six of them were going to break in and they would part ways after so you assumed Nina and Matthias had some sort of secret role after the actual heist like getting Inej out of town, but who knew what went through Kaz Brekker’s mind and what he had them doing, he certainly had no reason to tell you when he probably didn’t even tell them. All you needed to worry about was making it seem like Kaz was still lurking about crunching either numbers or bones and stall if anyone came looking for him. You were nervous to even meet Kaz and hadn’t even planned on being involved past helping Wylan with the explosive, but when Kaz Brekker gives you a task, you don’t question it if you value your bones or life.

Part of you thought he was really hot behind his cold, morally grey, and disinterested facade. You could tell he was a caring person even if he was Dirtyhands, if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t take so much time planning the safe exit of all of the Crows and would just say every man for himself as most bosses like him did. Pekka Rollins sure wouldn’t elaborately plan a way for his people to get out like that. He had an odd way of showing it, but I could tell he at least cared about Jesper, Inej, Wylan, Nina, and Matthias. You didn’t really know Kaz well, obviously, but something else about him just told you he was deep down a good man, just deeply traumatized and stuck in a system that wasn’t kind to barrel boys like him. You couldn’t really believe it, but you had a soft spot for him, the bastard of the barrel. Others would probably call that clinically insane. You also just felt a little more comfortable around him in a city like this, while he may be the most dangerous man in Ketterdam, he did still have more morals than people like Rollins. You knew no one would mess with anyone associated with Kaz, especially after what he did to Rollins, and Kaz wore gloves too. Rumors floated around saying he wore them because his hands were permanently bloodstained, and while you didn’t know the real reason, it made having a bad immune system in a city like this easier. You at least didn’t have to feel like the odd one out for wearing your own gloves too avoid the gross surfaces you came in contact with and at least Kaz wasn’t the type to abuse someone’s personal space. Every other man in this city would breathe down your neck and be one of the many gross surfaces except for Kaz. Kaz already didn’t seem to like people in his personal space, but you had caught him staring at your gloves several times and he seemingly gave you even more space than anyone else after noticing you wearing them every time he saw you. It was as if you two had a mutual understanding to not breathe each other’s air and be suspicious of each other from afar. That all got thrown out the window when Kaz came in through said window bloody and barely conscious.

Your POV:

“Kaz!” I exclaimed.

“Got shot, everyone else is fine.” He groaned.

I then noticed his already bad leg bleeding profusely at the shin just below his knee. Whose aim was so poor they got him in the shin? Or was that calculated? Kaz stumbled to his chair and started pulling his pant leg up, but he had clearly lost a lot of blood and was struggling to even focus. I bit my lip. Kaz needed help, but that would mean taking my gloves off. My bare hands were much cleaner and wouldn’t risk infecting the wound as much. I took a deep breath and reasoned with myself. Kaz always wore long pants and I knew he was probably the safest person to be around since he broke the bones of anyone who tried touching him.

“Let me help you.” I said rushing over with the first aid kit that had been prepared ahead of time incase things went wrong.

I kneeled down and stared at my gloves and Kaz looked at me confused, “I can do it.” He slurred, clearly getting weaker as the blood refused to stop flowing from the deep wound and other smaller wounds he had acquired.

“No, let me, unless you want mourners and a funeral.” I sighed pulling the gloves off, “And you and I both know Jesper will have a lot to say at the funeral.”

That seemed to pull Kaz from whatever delirious state he was in and he frowned, “You can keep your gloves on.”

“No I can’t, they’re dirty, they’re just going to infect the wound and you’ll have bigger problems.” I said cutting his pant leg with a knife since they were already beyond saving and I started cleaning the area gently.

I was careful not to touch his skin or get any blood on me. Kaz seemed to relax when he realized I wasn’t touching him, he must have a thing with illness too, which was ironic given the fact that everyone thought he wore gloves because he was so covered in other people’s blood. I worked quickly and had his leg cleaned and wrapped in no time. His shin was the issue but I tightly wrapped the bandages all the way up to his thigh to keep his knee from being able to bend much and in turn force him to be easy on his leg. Kaz looked like he wanted to tear my throat out, but he didn’t have the energy to protest and I knew he probably wouldn’t keep his leg still unless he had no choice.

“Now I can’t move my leg.” Kaz grumbled.

“That’s the point.” I said rolling my eyes, “For a man so set on watching his enemies burn, you sure don’t act like you want to live long enough to see the ashes.” Kaz scowled and tried to stand but I glared at him. “Sit your ass down before I strap you to that damn chair, Brekker.”

Kaz looked taken aback, but he listened. I could tell it was only because he hadn’t slept in days and lost a lot of blood. He was probably already planning how he’d make an example of me when he had some coffee. I should be worried about that, but he looked awful. He needed to drink water, so I went to find him water when I realized just the tiniest amount of his blood covered my fingers. I froze and looked at my fingers. The blood had lodged itself under my nails and I swallowed hard. Kaz isn’t sick, I told myself, it’s not like he coughed in my face. I suddenly felt like I wanted to completely crawl out of my skin and I bit my lip. I was panicking but I didn’t want to give Kaz a reason to say ‘I told you so’, so I tried to steady my breathing. Kaz was complaining bitterly but I didn’t hear a word of his usual speech that was probably littered with threats and insults.

After Kaz took down Van Eck, he had gotten running water installed and I was immediately thankful for Kaz and his antics. I rushed to the sink as casually as possible and began scrubbing my hands relentlessly. Most of the blood was gone immediately, but a little remained beneath my fingernails. My breathing got heavier as I tried to get the blood from under my nails. I didn’t notice that Kaz stopped talking because I wasn’t listening to him in the first place, but I did notice when he started limping across the room.

“Don’t touch me.” I snapped. I immediately regretted it. Kaz Brekker of all people probably wasn’t hobbling over to hug and talk about feelings. “I’m sorry.” I sighed as I aggressively rubbed soap under my nails.

Kaz stopped in his tracks and I could feel him staring at me. I didn’t know why he wore gloves, but I no longer felt ‘normal’ around him. He wasn’t aggressively scrubbing his hands. I was. Tears started spilling from my eyes and I hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Your leg is fine now you can go take care of what you need to.” I said using every bit of control to avoid my voice cracking.

Kaz headed towards the door and I sighed with relief. It lasted about three seconds because all he did was lock the door. “Just breathe.”

I looked up at him expecting his usual scheming look. How can I exploit her weakness. Just as he told his crows, he found my tell. Instead he seemed to be expressionless which was almost worry for him. “I know this is your building and town even, but can you go away?” I pleaded while looking alway and wiping my tears on my sleeve. I couldn’t believe I had allowed myself to show him this side of me.

“Take a deep breath. If you don’t calm yourself down it makes it worse.” He said disregarding everything I had said, “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

As much as I hate to admit it, Kaz was right. I took some deep breaths and noticed there wasn’t a single trace of blood on my hands, but they were raw from me scrubbing them. When my breathing finally started to return to normal I shut the water off and dried my hands.

“Catch.” Kaz said.

I turned just in time to be hit in the face by my gloves and I happily put them on while Kaz remained on the opposite end of the room leaning heavily on his cane.

“Why don’t you sit?” I asked hoping to just avoid talking about what just happened.

“Didn’t want to breathe your air,” Kaz said smirking slightly and motioning to how close the chair was to me, “I don’t feel like getting my nose broken tonight too.”

“There’s no way you’re scared of me.” I snorted.

“You’re right. I just thought it would make you feel better than the truth and I don’t normally tell the truth anyway. I recognized the look in your eyes.” Kaz said finally sinking back into the chair.

“I’m sorry.” I muttered.

I knew how ridiculous I must look to him and I had never known Kaz to lie to save someone’s feelings, so if he had suddenly decided to pity someone, it must be awful.

“Don’t.”

“I know I—“

“Listen to me,” Kaz said bringing the crow head of his cane to my arm, “you only have a weakness if you let people exploit it and apologizing is the first step. You don’t strike me as weak. You clearly do a good job of hiding your tells. Keep it that way. Hide what you can and use what you can’t to make people fear you.”

“Tell me, how afraid were you to see my hyperventilating and scrubbing my skin off over some blood?”

“That’s what you need to work on. You’re good, but not good enough.” Kaz said finally taking his cane from my arm, “I told you I recognized the look. You looked like a caged animal. You looked like you wanted to crawl out of your own skin.”

“Wow, Kaz Brekker, you really know how to charm the ladies.”

“You’re playing my game in my house.” Kaz replied, “I knew the look because I have the look.”

“You?” I gasped.

“If you tell anyone I’ll choke you with your own intestines.” Kaz threatened, “But yes. I don’t wear gloves for aesthetic purposes. I don’t know why you wear yours, but I don’t need to. People fear what they don’t know, use that. Learn to hide weaknesses and when it comes through pick yourself up and remind them why they fear you.”

“So you’re suggesting becoming Dirtyhands.”

“You won’t be as good as me, but yes. A few lies and shows go a long way.”

“Why are you helping me? You don’t know me and last week you didn’t trust me.”

“Because as much as I love seeing people suffer, it’s at my hands, not their own minds. That fate is reserved for Rollins. Besides, you know too much and you fixed my leg, so it would be unwise to throw out an investment.”

“I hardly fixed it. You’re on a path to lose the damn thing if you don’t sit down for more than five seconds.”

“I’ll survive.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Why are you helping me?” Kaz said flipping the conversation back on me.

“Well, I like my intestines where they are for one, two, I don’t think you’ll like my other answer.”

“Try me.”

“Well,” I sighed, “I think underneath all of those layers, you’re a good person who has just been taken advantage of and grown a spine of steel. I think as much as you hate to admit it, you have confused the words ‘investments’ and ‘friends’. I think that anyone could recognize what happened to me, but it takes someone who has a conscience somewhere to care enough to help and respect boundaries like standing far away from me despite your leg.”

Kaz looked like I just called him every derogatory name ever. “Thats not—“

“Just take the compliment, Brekker. You can be a hard-ass on the street, but it doesn’t hurt to have a friend or two behind closed and locked doors.”

———

You hadn’t planned on ever meeting Kaz and when you did you didn’t want to remain involved, so how you ended up spending more time at the Crow Club than your house, you didn’t know. With help from Kaz a rumor had started about your gloves and you even found out why Kaz wore his. While his situation was far worse and tied to severe trauma, you realized slowly that some of his actions meant a lot more than you thought. From him realizing and respecting your boundaries without saying a word to him even trusting you enough to touch his leg after barely knowing him (blood loss probably had a lot to do with it), his smaller actions meant a lot more.

As the weeks went by Kaz sent you on jobs that could’ve easily been done by one of the Dregs, and frankly, you wish he had sent one of them, but you had gained a reputation. Similar rumors spread about your gloves and in turn Kaz gained even more fear and respect. People saw you wearing gloves next to Dirtyhands and thought for sure he was training you to be just like him so he could gain even more control of the city. Kaz wished he had thought of it himself sooner, because he could leave you at the Crow Club while he was out and people still acted as if Kaz were breathing down their necks.

“What did I tell you?” Kaz said one day.

“What?” You asked unsure of what he was referencing since he constantly gave his unsolicited opinions with little to no context.

“They fear you.”

“Because they think I’m another you.”

“They aren’t paying attention to your gloves and they fear that I have something bigger planned. Fear keeps the pigeons in line.” Kaz said shrugging.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.” You said rolling your eyes and glancing quickly at Jesper who was grinning.

“Oh he’s a delight.” Jesper laughed.

Kaz was already gone, of course, but you and Jesper continued laughing and drinking.

“Well, well, well.” A man said approaching you and Jesper, “Dirtyhand Jr. isn’t so scary, are you?”

You tensed up and Jesper went to speak but instead started smirking and you glared at him. You suddenly realized why though. The crow head of Kaz’s cane hit the man’s shoulder and Kaz looked like a blood thirsty hell hound.

“Take your hands off of her right now.” Kaz snarled.

In his drunken state the man began to argue, but Kaz only sunk his cane deeper into the man’s shoulder. Kaz had a strict policy against violence on the floor, but in this moment it was clearly about to be broken.

“I don’t appreciate scum like you putting hands on what belongs to me. Leave before you lose your hands.”

The man left but Kaz whispered orders for Inej to trail him. Jesper raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Kaz wordlessly brought you to his office and locked the door.

“I’m sorry Kaz, I didn’t mean to make a scene, you didn’t have to stop him, I should’ve just responded—“

“Are you hurt?” He said cutting you off.

“No? He barely touched me.” You replied.

“Then maybe I’ll only cut off fingers from his dominant hand.”

“Kaz, I swear, I was just overreacting—“

“I’ve made it clear that no one touches you. Clearly, some people need a hands on learning experience to figure out not to touch what’s mine.”

“Kaz, you don’t have to put that effort in for me. I probably could’ve gotten through it and just taken a bath if he coughed in my general direction.”

“I protect my investments.”

“Would you quit calling us that?” You snapped, “I get you don’t want me making a scene but—“

“That’s not what it’s about!” Kaz interrupted, “You think I care about a scene you cause? Your idea of a scene is firmly saying no. You tensed up and no one except me and Jesper noticed. You know what I care about? People who still underestimate just how far I’m willing to go.”

You stayed silent for a few moments before saying, “Then why? Why do you care?”

“Because you’re mine.”

“This again? I told you—“

“No. You’re mine.” Kaz said with more emphasis, “I know you don’t want them touching you, but it also makes me sick watching other men touch you so easily when I can’t.”

“Kaz, unless you plan on coughing in my face I don’t care.” You said softly.

“I can’t.” Kaz said barely audibly.

It suddenly clicked. Kaz had told you a few details about why he wore gloves, he said he had a brother who died from firepox and he had been left for dead with him. His touch aversion wasn’t because of the firepox, it was his brother. Kaz wasn’t afraid of getting sick, he was afraid of touching skin.

“Kaz, I didn’t realize— I thought you were afraid of getting sick too, I’m—“

“I don’t need your apologies.” Kaz said still clearly angry, “I need that man’s fingers on my desk.”

“Kaz is it really that big of a deal? He just touched my shoulders. It might help the club if you just let it go because people might come more if they think they have a chance—“

“Do you want them to?”

“What?”

“Do you want men to have a chance with you?”

“Well, no, but—“

“Then I’ll take as many fingers as I need to send a message.”

“Does it matter? I can act.”

“The club is fine. I won’t have you out there being touched if that’s not what you want. This isn’t the Menagerie.”

“Well, I guess I won’t object to you taking a few fingers.” You laughed, “That guy was a jerk. But how does that ‘help your investment’, don’t you have bigger problems?”

“I told you. It makes me sick seeing men touch you when I can’t.” Kaz said through gritted teeth.

You and Kaz were probably the most emotionally unintelligent people in the barrel, and that was saying a lot. It wasn’t until days later after a drunken conversation with Nina did you realize what Kaz actually meant. You woke up the next day completely panicked about how to talk to Kaz. Of course you had grown to like him, he was hot and willing to do questionable things to make you happy, but you never thought you’d have a chance with him. Kaz didn’t even like to admit that he had friends, so why would he ever want more?

Your POV:

I rushed into the Crow Club and desperately asked Jesper where Kaz was. He directed me to his office and I started knocking incessantly on the door. When Kaz finally answered, he looked annoyed, but changed his expression to mildly annoyed when he saw me.

“We need to talk.” I said pushing past him.

Kaz shut the door and walked over to his desk. “What is it? Did you and Inej find a way into the merchant’s house?” Kaz asked thinking this was about the recent job he had started.

“No. Kaz what did you mean when you said you didn’t like people touching me?”

“That I don’t like people touching you.” Kaz said frowning, “Why? Do I need to cut more fingers off or move to whole hands?”

“No, you’ve thoroughly scared all of Ketterdam.” I said dismissively, “Why don’t you like it?”

“Because you don’t.”

“Is that all?”

“I told you. I don’t like other men thinking they can touch you when I can’t.”

“But why?” I pressed.

“Why?” Kaz said scowling.

“Are you jealous?” I blurted.

Kaz’s whole expression changed and he sighed and like he did weeks ago, he wordlessly locked his door. “Am I jealous?” He asked coldly, “Am I jealous that other men feel entitled to put hands on you in my club so effortlessly when I can’t even touch your hand without feeling like I want to crawl out of my skin? Am I jealous that I rarely care for anyone or anything, but when I do, what Pekka fucking Rollins did to me stands in the way? Yeah. I’m jealous and I’ll keep cutting off fingers or hands until I feel a little better about it.”

“Kaz aren’t you Ketterdam’s biggest conman?” I asked, “Find a different angle. At the end of the day you’re still the one who has my heart.”

Kaz’s eyes flicked up and studied mine. “No.”

“No?” I asked hoping I hadn’t read the situation wrong.

“No. I can’t give you what you want and I can’t let people use you to get to me.”

“How do you know what I want?” I insisted.

“You may wear gloves too, y/n, but you can touch people still, I can’t. I can’t even touch your hand without my gloves. I can’t give you what other men can. I can offer you protection and a reputation and that’s it.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t need any of that? If I wanted a physical relationship I could go home with anyone, but I haven’t. For whatever stupid reason, I care about you. I want you. You think I don’t know what that comes with? If one day you don’t have a hard time with touch, great, but if that day never comes I’m perfectly happy right here with you. I love you.” I insisted watching him for a reaction. His expression was blank so I continued, “I love you Kaz. If all you have to offer is your love and a gloved hand, that’s more than enough… do you love me?” I asked.

“You’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind. Do you love me?” I asked again.

“No.” Kaz said firmly, “I don’t love you.”

I don’t know what I was expecting from Kaz, but his words still stung. Tears threatened my eyes but I would not let him see the impact his words had on me. “Then you shouldn’t miss me. I’m going out, I’ll be back tonight.” I said turning on my heel.

“The club—“

“Manage your own damn club Brekker.” I snapped, “I’m not yours.”

———

Jesper knew something was wrong when Kaz was pacing despite his bad leg that was clearly bothering him. All the crows had gathered in Kaz’s office for a meeting and the only person missing was Y/n.

“Pacing won’t make her get here. Just start without her, you start without me all the time.” Jesper said.

“Inej, what time did she get back last night? I told her this meeting was important.”

“She didn’t come back last night, I thought she stayed at her place.”

“She’s been staying at the Slat,” Wylan said frowning, “I pass her place on the way home, she clearly hasn’t been home in a while.”

“She never came back?” Kaz asked gritting his teeth.

You hadn’t. You stormed out and took to the streets of Ketterdam. You knew better than to show weakness in public, but it felt like Kaz had slapped you across the face. One minute you were crying into a cup of coffee that was too strong, and the next you were being dragged into an alley.

You instantly recognized members of the Dime Lions and sighed. Clearly these people had gotten one two many concussions and weren’t thinking straight.

“Let go of me.” You spat angrily.

You knew they wouldn’t but the goal wasn’t for them to let you go, it was to distract them. There were only two of them, they must have thought you’d go down without a fight. They each held tightly to one arm and you started to kick at their legs and they immediately started focusing on restraining your legs.

“Guess the rumors aren’t true,” one of them laughed, “Brekker didn’t teach his newest toy how to fight. Those gloves are for show.”

Your POV:

I just gave the most convincing helpless whimper I could and at the same time just before yanking my arms free. I placed them on their shoulders, and jumped up to kick my feet behind me into their stomachs. They both stumbled back, partly from pain, partly from surprise. One of them hunched over and I went for him first. With help from Jesper, I had put a thick layer of steel in the toes of my combat boots and I brought the toe straight to the Dime Lion’s face. It made a crunching noise and he was instantly knocked out falling backwards with a face full of blood. The second already had his arms wrapped around me pinning my arms to my body from behind. I quickly pulled my head forward and forcefully rammed it back again into his face. It probably hurt me just the same, but it surprised him, just not enough to make him let go. I turned my head and sunk my teeth hard into his arm.

“You fucking psychopath! You bit me!”

I wiggled one arm free and elbowed him and laughed manically. “And I’ll do it again!”

I broke free just as he landed a punch straight to my jaw. Immediately I tasted blood and stumbled to the ground. The guy immediately pinned me down and landed another punch before I wrapped my leg around his and used the leverage to flip him underneath me. He brought his hands to my throat to try to push me away and choke me but I began relentlessly laying punches. I used my non dominant hand to pin his wrists and kept punching until I realized he was no longer conscious.

Both Dime Lions were profusely bleeding but still alive. I slipped a small knife from my sleeve and grinned. “And you were worried about me biting you.” I said pulling the first guys shirt open, buttons popping all over the place.

I carved my name into his chest and did the same to the other guy before cutting X’s over their Dime Lion tattoos. I could kill them, but if they happened to not bleed out in this alley they would forever have evidence of being beat by me unless they found a good healer or tailor, which I doubted.

I knew I probably looked like hell but I couldn’t be seen like this and I had already thrown up from knowing their blood was on me. Instead of going home or going to the Slat I went to an old friend of mine. Baastian De Jong.

“Y/n?” He exclaimed as he opened the door.

“I need a shower.” I sighed.

“You need a medik! What are you doing here?”

“I ran into Pekka Rollins’ guys. I just need to get the blood off, please?”

Next thing you knew I knew, I was asleep on his couch and awake the next day with a major headache.

“They really did a number on you didn’t they?”

“Shut it, Baastian.” I groaned.

“Want lunch?”

“Lunch?”

“It’s practically noon.”

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, “Kaz is going to gut me like a fish.”

“You’re wrapped up with Brekker too? Ghezen, Y/n! He’s the absolute worst person in this country and probably the world! What were you thinking?”

“He’s not that bad.” I insisted as I quickly gathered my things.

“You said he’d gut you!”

“I’m too valuable of an investment, he’ll probably just threaten me.”

I left Baastian’s house and quickly made my way to meet with the Crows. When I finally got through the door all of them were yelling and agitated but they noticed me and quieted down.

“Y/n what happened? Where were you?” Wylan exclaimed jumping up.

“You should see the other guys.” I said smirking.

Wylan just looked horrified, “What happened?”

“Two of the Dime Lions made the unfortunate mistake of taking me for a damsel in distress. If they crawled their way out of the alley I left them in, it would be a miracle.” I laughed, “They did land a few good hits though so I went to Baastian’s so no one would see me.”

“Baastian De Jong? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Neither have I, he wanted me to see a medik.” I laughed, “I specifically went there so no one would see me.”

“Why? You should’ve come back—“

“Right back where they expected me to be.” I sighed, “It doesn’t matter. I’m here now. Let’s get this over with, I have a migraine and I would really like about fifteen shots of espresso, give or take, right about now.”

“Who did this to you?” Kaz finally asked.

“Doesn’t matter Kaz, I take care of myself. Let’s get on with this.”

“Who?” Kaz said more firm this time.

“I don’t know their names. If they lived, they’re both probably sporting shattered bones and I carved my name into their chests and X’s over their tattoos with a knife. You’ll see ‘em comin’ a mile away.”

“You did fucking what?” Jesper sputtered.

“I bit one of them too.” I said grinning at Jesper.

“Where in a fight do you get to the point of biting?” Jesper laughed.

“Wanna find out?”

“Nope.” Jesper said quickly.

“Now, plans to pull this heist off.”

We were only about twenty minutes into Kaz’s scheming when Rotty burst in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you guys are going to want to see who me and Specht found.”

“This better be good.” Kaz sighed.

We all followed Rotty to an empty room where two men sat slumped on the floor. I grinned immediately.

“Hey boys! Miss me?” I exclaimed crossing my arms.

“Keep that psychotic bitch away from us!” The one guy yelled, “She fucking bit me!”

“Your nose is shattered and that’s what you’re still on about?” I snorted.

“Found ‘em in an alley not far from here!” Rotty said excitedly, “They were apparently tasked with taking Y/n hostage and she left them within an inch of life.”

“Clearly, Ghezen, land enough punches?” Specht laughed.

“She kicked me in the face!” The other guy corrected.

“And I’ll do it again, wanna keep talking?” I spat.

Immediately both of them were silent and Kaz raised an eyebrow.

“Remind me never to piss you off.” Jesper said wide eyed.

“I do, all the time.” I said turning to leave.

“What should we do with ‘em?” Rotty asked Kaz.

“Let me talk to them alone. Then we let them free. Y/n intended on sending a message that I don’t intend on blocking.”

———

I sat on my bed drinking awful coffee silently. I was in deep with the Dregs now, which was never my intention. I never intended on falling for Kaz Brekker, having my heart broken, and making enemies. Now here I was unable to look Kaz in the eyes while slowly building a ‘psychotic bitch’ reputation. I had to admit, I saw the appeal. Seeing the fear in those mens’ eyes was a thrill, but it meant nothing in comparison to the impact a simple glance from Kaz had on me. A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts though and I sighed.

“Who is it?”

“We need to talk.” Came Kaz’s voice.

No ‘Hello. How are you? It’s Kaz.’ I thought. Straight to the point as always.

“No.” I said refusing to get up and unlock my door

The knock was a curtesy of course. When Kaz wanted to talk he talked and something like a locked door wasn’t stopping him. Kaz quickly picked the lock and the door swung open. He limped in and shut the door behind him.

“We need to talk.” He repeated.

“Nice to see you too.” I grumbled looking away from him.

“Pekka Rollins sent those two fools after you and while you sent a pretty good return to sender, there is still the problem that you’re a target too now.”

“Wonderful.” I groaned, “I’m going to kill Wylan.”

“You could’ve left.” Kaz said.

“I could have but I didn’t. I didn’t because of you. I made my decision though and as you can see I can protect myself. Now if all you wanted to do was state the obvious, those assholes still landed enough punches to make my head feel like it’s going to explode so I would rather not have the same arguments over and over.”

“I shouldn’t have let you leave last night.”

“You don’t let me do anything, Brekker. The others may be willing pawns, but I don’t belong to you.”

“What do you want from me? Did you think it was going to be all sunshine and daisies here?” Kaz snarled.

“I wanted you to take your head out of your ass for five minutes to realize that sex and touch isn’t the only important thing in a relationship. I love you Kaz Brekker and there’s a million ways to show it without touching, but you think so lowly of yourself and me that you don’t think you’re worth the effort and you don’t think that it will be enough for me. I know who you are and I don’t want to change you. I want you.” I exclaimed putting the coffee on my nightstand, “Now I just want you to leave me alone. Stop calling me yours.”

Kaz placed a gloved hand over my gloved hand and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I am capable.”

I looked up at him and his whole demeanor had changed. “It’s easy. Don’t breathe my air, and tell me how pretty my eyes are instead.” I said.

I had been angry only seconds earlier, but the touch Kaz could offer changed that immediately. Kaz almost smiled and nodded.

“And we don’t tell anyone until it gets too hard to deny or I take care of Rollins for good. I don’t want him making the target on your back even bigger.”

“What a shame, I was prepared to go shout in the streets.”

———

As time went on, Rollins was taken care of and all anyone had to talk about was Kaz Brekker and his girl. Two very odd people who wore gloves all of the time. The girl was feared because not only did people know she was a force to be reckoned with, but when she was finished with you, Kaz Brekker came in to make sure he would haunt your nightmares for the rest of your days for even looking at his girl. Kaz was no expert when it came to love, but he would do anything for the girl who loved him unconditionally and soon he even let himself realize he deserved that too. He was still Dirtyhands and he still had Ketterdam wrapped around his finger, but every once in a while he could lock his door and be Kaz Rietveld all because he understood the look of feeling like a caged animal that wanted to be free of it’s own skin.

[strvngestark]

Bruna Marquezine Gif Hunt (p.1)

Under the cut you’ll find (182)gifs of Bruna Marquezine as Catarina de Lurton in Deus Salve O Rei. They are all of roleplayable medium size. None of these gifs were made by me and are only posted for other’s RP purposes.

Keep reading

[strvngestark]

The agreement - Kaz Brekker Masterlist.

Warnings: Convenience/arranged marriage, swearing, mention of fight, mention of death, mention of desire, fluff, slightly sensual, mention of post-traumatic stress.

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader.

Sinopse: Freedom. It was the only thing that held the most value in the world to you, and the only thing that was brutally cut off from your soul. Your father craved a man to continue the industrial empire he had raised in Kerch, and since you were so uninterested about marrying, his ultimatum was impassive: get a husband in three days or he will chooses someon to marry you.

Kruges. It was what drove the machinations of Kaz Brekker's dark world. With the scent of lost soul and dark eyes, his cunning mind peered intently at the girl who was standing in the doorway to his office, offering a good amount of money for the Dregs to take her out of that city immediately. Without her father's spies finding out.

But Kaz’s interest wasn't in that, it was in the story she told him: she would be forced to marry some executioner who would prevent she from living her life, looking only for her 20 million Kruges dowry and a place in empire her father.

Kaz Brekker could give you the freedom you wanted, and you could give him the dowry that would solve his whole life. A perfect deal. If the hearts stay way from involved in this process.

"It's very simple, Ms. Y/L/N.” That voice that gave you goose bumps hovered in front of you. “You marry me and you still have your freedom, because I don't give a damn about what you do after.”

"And what do you get out of it?" You tried to sound confident, but that man made you shiver.

“20 million from Kruges. Rich.” his eyes gleamed with a deep glow.

"And how do I know this isn't a trick?"

“I don't promise lies.” His firm face was serious “I won't give you happiness, Y/n. Much less love. Love doesn't exist in Kerch. But I will give you freedom, independence, a comfortable life that you are accustomed. And it seems to be much more than you have now.”

You knew you could be making a deal with the devil. Selling your soul to that man with the face of a fallen angel and the aura of Lucifer. But what choice did you have?

Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, reached out a leather-gloved hand toward you. His eyes sparkled with a mysterious spark, the scent of male cologne with a hint of danger lurking around the room. And for a moment, you felt a shiver go up your spine and the feeling that your life had just begun.

"Agree to marry me?" He said.

Chapters:

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

(Maybe more...?)

[strvngestark]

Bad kind of butterflies

{Fandom: Grishaverse}

{Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem! reader}

Summary: Y/N and Kaz get tangled in a web of unspoken truths and it falls upon them to tangle themselves before they fall and stumble.

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. I wrote this whole fic just because of this freaking gif. This is purely self indulgent but enjoy I guess.

“I got bad, bad kind of butterflies in my chest

There's something I gotta confess

Yes, somebody's stuck in my head”

Y/N had been a new but welcome addition to the crows, or so Kaz had believed until she had unknowingly become a thorn in his side. His chest constricted every time he saw her, and it became difficult to breathe whenever she was around.

She was oblivious to the fact, of course. The only one who had any idea of these stirrings of his was Nina, who always side eyed him whenever Y/N entered any room he was in.

Despite his best efforts, his eyes always seemed to seek out hers and his heart jolted whenever he looked at her wide eyes.

He truly could not stop his eyes from travelling to that plush bottom lip that was more often than not trapped between pearly white teeth. Just like it was now.

Kaz pushed the thought, along with several others just like it, into that dark corner of his mind and barred the gate. He needed to focus.

"Kaz?" Y/N questioned, looking at him nervously, her wrists clutching each other behind her back, twisting together.

How had she pulled him so deep in? Even after being in Barrel for months now, she had no jagged edges. She was supposed to be everything he hated. Soft, fragile, vulnerable.

And oh so, beautiful.

Damnit.

Kaz looked up from the paperwork he was supposedly working on and looked up to meet her gaze, "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"The others wanted to know if you would be joining us for drinks"

"And you volunteered to come get me, Y/N?"

"Didn't really have a choice" Y/N mumbled, without looking at him.

"Oh, so you don't want me to join you?" Kaz raised an eyebrow, watching in silent amusement as she shuffled her feet, mouth already opening in protest. He nodded, "Duly noted."

"That's not what I meant!" Y/N protested, her eyes widening a little at her own volume. She cleared her throat, her voice soft as she looked down at her feet, "You know that's not what I mean"

"Do I?"

Y/N sighed, not meeting his eyes. Irritation pricked at her like it always did when Kaz tormented her. She was sure he got some amusement by testing her resolve.

She would never admit how much she liked it.

Kaz stood up, closing the distance between them until he stood in front of her, hands clutching his crow-headed cane.

He leaned down his head, causing Y/N's eyes to meet his, "Use your words, little bird"

"I-" Y/N opened her mouth and closed it again. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath before meeting Kaz’s eyes, "Are you coming, then?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes"

Kaz took a step back and gave her a long look, and Y/N’s skin thrummed with the feeling of being the centre of his attention. Unaware of her thoughts, Kaz nodded, "I'll get my coat then"

"What happened?" Kaz walked into the living room of the Slat, his eyes landing on Jesper who was supporting an exhausted Wylan. It wa supposed to be a simple job and yet somehow, something had gone wrong.

His eyes searched for Y/N but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Y/N got hurt,” Those three words were enough to make Kaz’s heart collapse in on itself. Jesper continued, not noticing Kaz’s dilemma, “Nina is tending to her"

Kaz nodded and with his heart pounding in his ears, made his way towards Y/N's room. He stood in the doorway, watching Nina heal Y/N.

Nina cast him a meaningful glance, that he promptly ignored, and continued tending to Y/N’s shoulder which had the faint markings of a stab wound.

Breath seemed to return to Kaz’s lungs as Nina finished healing the wound, the skin knitted together as if there had never been a wound there. Y/N had her lips pressed together, unshed tears lining her long lashes.

Nina pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple and bid them farewell, but not before she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Kaz, nodding in Y/N’s direction.

With the patience that came with dealing with Jesper and Nina’s antics for far too long, Kaz ignored her as she left and looked towards Y/N who had finally let her tears fall.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No" Y/N mumbled, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand even as a new wave of tears streamed down her cheeks.

Kaz took a few steps forward and sat down at the side of her bed. His cane was firmly clutched in his left hand as he took out a handkerchief from his coat and handed it out to Y/N.

Y/N sniffled, wiping away the remaining tears, and then proceeding to hide her face with the handkerchief, "this is embarrassing"

"No need to worry, little bird, you embarrass yourself on the daily. I am used to it" Kaz's lips tugged into a faint smirk when Y/N whined in embarrassment.

"That's even worse"

Kaz stood up, and nudged Y/N's thigh with his cane, catching her eyes, "Get some rest"

Y/N nodded and watched him leave with a heavy heart. It was always so confusing, this game of tug of war between them. Y/N was afraid to tug too hard while Kaz kept tugging her close, making her lose her footing.

He knew she was bound to fall. She didn't dare to hope he would catch her.

"What the fuck was that?"

Y/N closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The sound of Kaz's harsh voice grated in her ears, making her heart pound in anxiety. Her instincts screamed at her to leave his office.

The heist had gone wrong. So very wrong. And Y/N had nearly gotten herself shot. Once the adrenaline had worn off, Y/N had grown numb with the realization of what had almost happened.

"I-" Y/N started, choking down her nerves, hands fiddling with the rings on her finger as she looked up at him.

Kaz's eyes blazed with hot fury as he took a step towards her, caging her between himself and his desk, "Do you have no regard for your own safety?"

"I am fine, Kaz"

"You could have died" Kaz gritted out, his grip near painful on his cane. He could have lost her. If he had been a moment too late, she would be gone.

The waters rose and Kaz gripped the beak of the crow-headed cane to ground himself. She was here. Y/N was here. And she was alive.

Never again would he let her put herself in danger.

"But I didn't! And I knew what I was doing" Y/N's excuses fell on deaf ears. Kaz clenched his jaw in anger and took another step forward.

"Did you? Or are you so self-absorbed that you think you know best? Do you even care what would have happened to the rest of the crows if you didn't make it?" Each word that left Kaz’s lips was dipped in poison, seeping into her skin with deadly accuracy.

"You're being cruel, Kaz" Y/N whispered, bottom lip caught in between her teeth as she bit into it. It was a bad habit. But the pain have her something to focus on. Something other than the intensity of Kaz’s furious gaze.

"And you're being a brat, Y/N" Kaz whispered, head tilting down to stare into her eyes. For once, he didn’t break eye contact. He couldn’t, not when the fear of losing her was so fresh in his mind.

Y/N looked down, Kaz’s disappointment weighing down on her. It made her nauseous, “I am sorry"

"No, I don't think you are" Kaz whispered, his voice cold and cutting as he rested tapped the side of her calf with his cane, his restraint slowly slipping, "I think you're just a brat who needs to be taught a lesson”

"Kaz" Y/N inhaled sharply, her heart beating so loudly that she wouldn’t be surprised if Kaz heard it.

"You should leave, Y/N" Kaz said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He gathered the last fraying threads of his self-restraint. It was up to her now. She could leave and they could go back to the line they hadn’t crossed yet.

Kaz knew greed. He knew it as he gazed at Y/N, so intensely, as if he might steal the very image of her beauty if he tried hard enough.

But Desire was a different game. Kaz toed the line of desire with Y/N on the daily, only in the confines of his own mind. But he never dared to cross it. He never dared to let that dream of desire fester into reality. Until now.

Y/N nodded but she made no move to leave, eyes roaming Kaz's face. She was committing him to her memory, all the sharp edges of his face and the soft cushions of his lips.

Though she might never get to touch this jagged edged masterpiece, at this moment it was hers to admire. For this moment, he was hers.

Kaz reached behind her and Y/N held her breath as he untied the white ribbon holding her hair together. Y/N watched in fascination as Kaz wrapped the ribbon around his two fingers, the white silk of her ribbon was a stark contrast against the black leather of his gloves.

With the thick ribbon wrapped around his pointer and middle finger, Kaz tapped Y/N’s bottom lip, making her gasp and stop her abuse on her lip and release it from between her teeth.

The touch was gone as soon as it came and all Y/N could do was stare at him, wide-eyed. Kaz made no move to step away, "You are not going to make reckless decisions again, understand?"

“Yes,” Y/N nodded dumbly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. She felt lightheaded and delusional. She reached back and placed a hand on Kaz’s desk so as to not stumble and fall into him.

That would be very, very bad. And it would break whatever fragile thing had blossomed between them. Though this time, she had a feeling he might just catch her, if only with his cane and silk ribbons on his fingers.

"You are not allowed to leave me, little bird" Kaz stroked the ends of her unbound hair that had fallen around her shoulders. His rough voice sent a shiver down her spine.

"I won't" Y/N mumbled, eyes shining bright with words she couldn’t say yet, "Promise"

Kaz’s lips turned up into a faint outline of a smirk, “Good girl”

[strvngestark]

Domestication

Kia Ora! It's been forever since I posted anything and it feels like forever since I've had the motivation to sit and right, but this came to me all of a sudden and I wrote it in like two hours so it might suck (not that I care) but no more writer's block!! Ka Pai!!!

synopsis: A Typical night with the Bastard of the Barrel. Or, the Bastard of the Barrel behind his locked door.

warnings: major fluff yall, not proofread yet because we all know I suck at that, I can't think of anything else oops

Kaz was almost always reading in his spare time, from ledgers to novels to the latest Ketterdam newspapers on stocks or whatever else the press thought worthy of ink. Every night when you climbed the stairs to his room, you would find him busy reading through one thing or another.

Tonight was no different. When you finally got off your shift in the Crow club, you found Kaz sitting on his bed with a book in hand. You let out a sigh, toeing off your worn boots and walking to the basin to wash your hands and face.

"How's the club?" Kaz asked, not taking his eyes from the page.

You splashed water in your face, "Plenty of Pigeons.”

You dried your face and joined Kaz on his bed, leaning against the headboard, mirroring his own pose.

"How was your day scheming?"

Kaz turned to look at you, entirely unamused by your cheeky smirk.

"It was fine," He replied, slowly.

The two of you sat silently, enjoying the quietness for a while. For the last few weeks, you had been staying in Kaz's room more and more. You had jokingly told him it was because his bed was bigger and more comfortable, but you both knew it was because you enjoyed waking up beside one another.

You noticed Kaz must have cleaned while you were away, tidying off his desk and drawers. Kaz was a stress cleaner, you had learnt. He liked this space to be tidy, everything in its rightful place. You learned rather quickly to keep things where they were meant to be.

"I cleared a drawer," Kaz said suddenly, you turned to look at him with a frown.

"Okay?"

Kaz put his book down on the table beside him, "For you."

It took a moment for his words to register, Kaz watched as your eyes lit up and a grin spread across your face.

"For me?"

He nodded once.

You leaned forward, gently placing your hand in his, "Have I finally succeeded in domesticating the Bastard of the barrel?"

Kaz made a big show of rolling his eyes, "It's one drawer."

You shrugged, cheekily replying, "One more than I had yesterday."

Kaz had been a lot better with touch lately, in the safety of his room, where no one other than you entered. It took months, years, to get to this point. With your hand in his, mindlessly rubbed circles with his thumb, tracing a pattern only he knew.

"What are you reading?"

Kaz had yet to put his book down, holding his page with a finger wedged in the pages. He opened to where he was, displaying the tiny cramped print for you to see.

"A book about stocks," He said.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

You giggled, "Sounds... boring."

Kaz gave you an annoyed side glance and went back to reading. Admitting defeat, you unthreaded your fingers from his and slipped off the bed. You padded over to Kaz's chest of drawers, well aware that he was watching you in between the words on the page. You pulled open the draw, seeing that Kaz had cleared you a space. A smile broke across your face again, pleased at the sight in front of you. Kaz's drawers were heavy and sometimes finicky, much like all the furniture in the Slat. You lifted the draw a little and slid it back into place, making sure it was shut tight like Kaz had it before.

Instead of returning to Kaz, you opened the next drawer down. Sliding it open as carefully as possible, the drawer revealed pristinely folded shirts and tunics. You ran your fingers over the fabric, almost all of Kaz's shirts were soft and clean, he took such care of his clothes and appearance. It was one of the reasons you loved him, his attention to detail and his immense care for the small details. You found the shirt you were after, one that he never wore but kept folded neatly in his drawer for you.

You unbuttoned your own shirt, it smelt of the Crow Club. A strange redolence of beer, jurda and the distinct smell of the wooden tables after years of use. You lay your dirty shirt over the back of Kaz's desk chair, making note to add it to your own washing in the morning. You pulled on Kaz's shirt, immediately greeted by his scent that was woven through the threads. Kaz shirt felt like pure silk after spending the day in your scratchy blouse, the fabric soothing away any irritation left on your skin.

You looked over your shoulder at Kaz for a moment, spying him nose-deep in his book again. You both knew he wasn't actually reading.

You rid yourself of your belt next, one that you had pinched from Nina months ago. You undid the buckle and carefully laid it over the chair, trying to keep your belongings in one space. You did the same with your skirt and tights, leaving you in almost ready to slip into bed.

You rounded back around the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping underneath. This was your nightly routine now, you slipping under the covers before Kaz, promising to stay awake with him and almost always falling asleep anyway. Kaz loved it, you knew. He would pretend to be exasperated, watching you yawn and fade slowly, but after you fell asleep he would put his book away and watch you rest peacefully.

Curled up under the covers, you watched him read. Watching his eyes scan the page and his lips ghost the words as he read. Sometimes, when he got invested, he would make comments to himself out loud. Oftentimes, "Saints Sake," or "Fool," depending on who or what he was reading about. If you were lucky, Kaz would read quietly and the furrow in his brow would ease, smoothed away as he relented to his book. Those were your favourite moments. Watching the Bastard of the Barrel vanish and Kaz Reitveld appear again. Each time, you cherished them like it was the last.

You shifted again, pulling the blanket over your shoulder to keep your warmth trapped. Kaz's eyes shifted over to you, a silent question within them.

"Read to me?" You whispered.

Kaz smiled, a gentle, loving smile that sent butterflies to your stomach and tingles down your spine.

"Of course."

Kaz took one hand from the book, finding your own under the cover.

You didn't care about how boring the current stock market was or whatever it was Kaz was reading, but you loved hearing Kaz read to you. The sound of his voice, calm and patient after a dangerous and tumultuous day. The sound of his fingers drumming on the hardcover, a steady beat. When he turned the page, he would hang on to the last word of the page, so as to not forget what it was.

You loved every part of these nights with every part of your soul.

As you started to relax more, your mind sinking into sleep, you pulled his hand to your chest, pressing your lips to his knuckles and whispering, "I love you, Rietveld."

Kaz placed his book away, blowing out the lantern and joining you under the covers.

"I love you too," He whispered, his lips pressed to your hairline.

[strvngestark]

THE BASTARD'S WITCH. kaz brekker

in which. kaz finally gives in, even if it makes him look weak

wc. 1.2k

a/n. i suggest listening to this song since it's one of the main reasons i even wrote this lol

Kaz Brekker knew the sound of footsteps approaching, the distinct rhythm of each person who dared step into his office. He heard the short creak of the floorboards outside his office, the subtle shift of weight, and for a brief moment, he thought it was her.

Y/N.

His grip on his cane tightened as he turned around.

But it wasn't Y/N. It was Pekka Rollins.

Two of Pekka’s men loomed behind him, their postures too relaxed, too sure of their authority.

“Mister Brekker, isn't it?” Pekka greeted, his voice like the slow drag of a blade against stone.

Kaz didn't move. He slowly watched as the man pulled a chair in front of him as his men grabbed Kaz’s shoulders, kneeling him in front of Pekka.

He made a show of looking around, as if he were the one letting Kaz stay here, rather than the other way around.

“You’re after the Heartrender,” Pekka asked, even if it sounded more like a statement.

Kaz’s expression didn’t waver.

Pekka smiled, all teeth. “Go ahead. Take the job. But if you do, I’ll make sure your little Summoner doesn’t see another sunrise.”

A long silence.

Kaz forced himself to remain still. Not to react. Not to show the way the words latched onto something deep, something ugly.

“She’s not my concern,” Kaz said. Even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. He felt his own cane being pressed to his throat.

Pekka chuckled. “That so? Then why does it feel like she is?”

He leaned forward, slowly. “I’ve been watching her, Brekker. Ever since she came to the Menagerie, I knew she was special.”

Kaz’s fingers twitched inside his gloves, his hands itching with anger.

“She still wears that collar,” Pekka continued. “Still belongs to Heleen. Which means —” His voice dropped, his words slow and deliberate. “She belongs to me.”

Kaz said nothing.

Pekka studied him, his head tilting slightly. “So here’s the deal. If you want the Heartrender, you kill her. If you want Ghafa’s freedom, you do it for me.”

He continued, a slight smirk forming on his lips, “Or maybe I’ll just kill the witch myself. And we’ll see if you still care to finish the job after.”

A heartbeat of silence. Then another.

“I’ll deal with her.”

Pekka’s smirk widened. “That’s what I like to hear.”

And then, just as quickly as he came, he was gone, leaving him alone, knees stuck on the wooden floor. Kaz stood there for a long moment, his mind already working, already calculating.

He would deal with her.

The job was supposed to be simple. In and out. No blood.

Yet Y/N found herself gasping against the alley wall, pressing a trembling hand against the wound just below her ribs. The knife had been quick. She hadn’t even seen the attacker’s face.

One moment, she was making her way back from the job Kaz had sent her on, the next, steel in her ribs. Blood seeped through her fingers, warm and thick.

She straightened, forcing herself upright as she heard footsteps. Making her way back to Slat, barely alive, a trace of blood sticking to all the buildings she had passed by.

Throwing herself on the nearest chair inside, she ripped her coat open, fingers grazing over the bloody cut. Her free hand grabbed the aid kit, mindsely searching for the needle and the thread.

There is no way she could've done it by herself, but she didn't want anyone to find out she had failed at the easiest job: she was a Grisha after all.

As soon as she began stitching, Jesper made his way inside, a soft smile on his face.His grin faltered when he saw her.

“Well, that’s not good.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, “Brilliant deduction.”

Jesper walked forward, gaze flicking to the blood darkening her coat. “What happened?”

“I accidentally stabbed myself”,she jokes, showing him that she was not in the mood.

Jesper sighed, defeated. “Kaz is already pissed, you know. And now this?”

“Why is he pissed?”, he takes in her frown, then his face suddenly changes. Like the realization hit him. ‘You can't tell her’, he recalls Kaz's words, and he wishes he hadn't opened his mouth.

Jesper hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Pekka paid him a visit.”

Not failing to notice the way she stiffened, he continued.

“He made a deal,” his voice was too casual, too careful. “A million kruge. Inej’s freedom. But there’s a condition.”

Y/N swallowed. “What condition?”

The door slammed open. Kaz barely had time to look up before Y/N stormed in, her coat unbuttoned just enough to reveal the blood staining her shirt.

He took it in immediately: the slight hitch in her breath, the tension in her shoulders, the fire burning in her eyes.

“You’re going to kill me for a million kruge?” she asks, voice latching with despair.

Kaz shut his ledger. “You should be resting.”

She scoffed, stepping forward despite the limp in her stride. “Is a million kruge more important than me living?”

Silence.

Her breath came sharp, uneven. She reached into her belt and pulled out a knife, flipping it so the hilt faced him.

“Then do it.”

Kaz didn’t move. Her fingers curled around his wrist, forcing the knife into his palm. “Do it, Brekker.”

He felt the weight of it, the cool steel pressing against his skin.

Then, slowly, he placed the knife on his desk and stepped toward her.

She backed away instinctively, but her wound betrayed her, her knees buckling, and she stumbled.

Kaz caught her before she could hit the ground, his gloved hand draped around her waist.

Her breath shuddered, their lips almost touching. “You’d do anything for your freedom, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers curled around his sleeve, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Then kiss me.”

A command.

Kaz saw the shift in her eyes, the pull of her power curling around the words. But he had already anticipated it.

His fingers pressed into her wound.

She gasped, her body jolting as pain lanced through her. And then he kissed her.

His lips crashed against hers, sharp and unyielding, stealing the breath from her lungs. It was not soft or gentle. It was the same as everything Kaz did: calculated, precise, deliberate.

When they finally pulled away, she winced, a sharp inhale cutting through the silence. Kaz looked down.

Blood.

His hand was still pressed against her wound.

Understanding flickered in her eyes, then horror.

“When a Grisha is in pain, their powers don’t work,” Kaz murmured. “I knew you were about to command me.”

He had been pressing on her wound from the moment she stumbled. Not to hurt her. Not to stop her.

But to choose. To choose the kiss. To choose her.

Y/N’s hands trembled against his arm, the pressure he was applying making her even more dizzy.

“Kaz…”

He stepped back, his touch remaining as a ghost on her skin. The weight of the moment settled between them, thick and suffocating.

“I’ll deal with Pekka.”

Then, before she could say anything else, before she could look at him like that, he turned and walked away.

[strvngestark]

Hiraeth

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary: You're drunk and insecure, Kaz puts you to rights again.

[drunken comfort (if you can call it that), insecurity, yearning, desiderium]

You stumbled into Kaz Brekker's office high.

It'd been a moderately good day for you, as good as you could get, short university classes, no calls from your mother, a job gone smooth AND a little after party at the Crow Club with your best friends.

By heritage, Fjerdan-Ravkan, but Kerch to the core- you'd promptly called your roomie and told her you'd be late, giggling at her worried questions.

"Business", you hiccuped into the phone after your second drink. You were an unfortunate lightweight, but that hadn't stopped you from trying to match drink to drink with Jesper as Matthias watched on disapprovingly.

Kaz hadn't joined, like usual. The two of you had grown somewhat close over the years- bonded by time and proximity and tension. He seemed to genuinely tolerate you- even seek you out, when he was in a good mood. In return, you chattered his ear off and bestowed him with your company, healing, and Inferni skills. He'd never know, though. He'd never know about the times you'd risked your college career just to go on another job with him, the times you'd penned poems only to fling them all into the fire, all the boys and girls you'd rejected at college, telling them your heart belonged to someone else. He'd never know, you told yourself as you snuck glances at his dark hair, his siren eyes, the way his gloved hand moved across the smooth surface of yet another mansion floor plan.

"And what're you staring at?" He said, eyes still on the map. He'd let you stumble into his room, collapse into the divan beside his desk and watch him as he planned the next job, curiously not complaining.

"Definitely not you", you retorted, falling into the usual snap and retort banter routine that the two of you had followed over the years. "Do you get any sleep at all?"

"More than you", he responded, finally glancing at you. His gaze dragged over you in a way that sent a tingle down your spine, but you knew better than to get too excited. He saw you as nothing more than a comrade, a healer, a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

"How many shots?"

"Huh?" Your eyes snapped to him, still disoriented. You sat on the divan, cross cross applesauce, head leaned back against the high headrest, higher than God.

"Then why are you so drunk?" He seemed deadpan as always, his dark eyes fixed on you. You squirmed.

"I might have had two brownies...I didn't know they were the special kind."

His lips twitched, irritation and faint amusement written across his face. "Of course you did. Why stop at two? Why not eat the entire tray and wash it down with a barrel of rum?"

"I didn't know!" You said in a voice that might have bordered on whiny. Alcohol made you sappy, and you didn't know what drugs did. A deadly combination of the unknown and emotional. "Trust me."

"Luckily for you, ignorance isn't fatal." He dragged his cane across the floor, standing up. "This time , at least. How many fingers am I holding up?"

You squinted, his gloved hands mildly blurry without your glasses. Nina had taken them off as you'd been getting ready, telling you that an hour or two without them wouldn't do you any harm.

"..three?"

"Wrong." He snapped. "Four."

He stepped closer, though not close enough. That was the problem with him, you thought drunkenly. Always close, never close enough. He was an enigma that you'd tried to unravel, a closed book you wanted to open and read and run your fingers through.

Something that'd never happen.

One of his hands straightened the collar of your dress, gloved fingers barely brushing against the sliver of bare skin exposed at your neckline. Your favourite black top, the one you'd so carefully layered silver lockets on in hopes that Kaz might wander down to the bar and LOOK at you. He was looking at you now, but it was too late. Your hair had strayed from its styling, your lipstick was rubbed away.

"You're a mess." He said under his breath, voice as rocksalt as ever but sewn with mild concern, and something soft, something quite like endearment...or were you too far gone?

"Clean me up, then." You looked up at him, eyes half lidded, already drowsy. But you didn't want to be. You wanted it to last, for him to be gentle and kind to you, for this rare moment to linger. But that was a dream of a dream. Maybe you'd always be left hoping.

You could only catch the twitch of his lips as you drifted off, the way the expression in his eyes changed, mirroring yours- vulnerability, concern, endearment, gentleness. You drifted off, but you caught the last word he said as your eyes shut, quiet and gentle,

"Always".

[strvngestark]

GUILTY AS SIN - KAZ BREKKER

//don’t ask me what this is dawg, i thought of it forever ago and wrote it half asleep and threw on an ending. leave me alone//

Pairing: Kaz x Crow!Reader

Word Count: 2,119

Summary: The little Songbird. A silly nickname for the Crow that likes to sing at the Club. When debuting a very personal, very specific song, the muse of that song - who isn’t supposed to know - is intrigued by the performance.

You were seated at the piano bench with Wylan while Jesper was bleeding fabric of color on the floor. You tapped your pencil against the notepad in your lap while Wylan played the same chords on the piano.

“I can’t get this chorus!” You groaned.

“What’s this song about? That Merchant’s son?” Jesper asked idly and you had to resist throwing your pencil at him.

“No, she’s writing about Kaz.” Wylan answered.

You whacked his arm with the notepad and he laughed.

“Just play the notes again.” You grumbled.

He was right, of course. Everyone knew of your crush on Kaz. It had started when you were younger and you figured you’d grow out of it. His cruelty seemed to guarantee it, yet he was kind enough to you. He was a very confusing man, especially as he grew into the feared Barrel Boss.

But still, your heart yearned and who were you to deny it?

You let your crush exist, burning under your skin when he was around. When you met his eyes in the crowded Club, your pulse jumped. When you two were partnered for a job, your nerves were electrified. When he spoke to you, you melted. Oh Saints, were you in deep.

Wylan, with a grin still plastered on his face, began the notes. You hummed along, finding the general flow of syllables.

“What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh, only in my mind?” Your voice drifted with the music and Wylan nodded along.

“One slip and falling back into the hedge maze. Oh, what a way to die.” Jesper added from the floor.

“I keep recalling things we never did.”

“Messy top lip kiss.” Jesper teased. He was lucky your legs weren’t long enough to kick him past Wylan.

“How I long for our trysts.” Wylan continued and you pinched him, making him yelp.

“Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?” You finished then squealed in delight. “I like that!”

“You should be more honest though.” Jesper said, standing and leaning on the piano. Your brows furrowed and he grinned.

You suddenly regretted his input.

“You should say something about wanting to bed him.” He laughed and you stood calmly. Wylan leaned out of the way and let you fully whack Jesper on the arm.

The boys laughed and you shook your head with a smile as you jotted down the lyrics you all came up with. You worked through the next verse with them and started a bridge. You adjusted a few lines in the chorus when it rolled around a second time, then found your favorite line.

I choose you and me, religiously.

You has chosen to be at Kaz’s side every time, without fail. You wondered if he noticed, then doubted he paid that much attention.

Later that week, there were no upcoming jobs to prepare for. There was no fight to ready yourself for. There was hardly any opposition since Pekka Rollins disappeared. So you found yourself, and friends, falling into your usual downtime routines.

Nina and Matthias playfully argued about something trivial. Wylan and Jesper made nonsense bets with each other, occasionally roping in Nina and Matthias, that usually ended with owing the other a drink or some treat. Kaz was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t entirely unusual.

And you took to the stage.

Wylan had done several copies of the music for the few members of the band you recruited. While they played, you sang and lightly danced. You captivated the crowd, watching the women giggle and exchange glances at your lyrics. It seemed like they all had their own versions of that special type of crush.

The lyric change for the second chorus came up and you watched Jesper’s reaction specifically.

“My bedsheets are ablaze. I’ve screamed his name. Building up like waves, crashing over my grave.”

Jesper nearly spit out his drink and you grinned.

The grin quickly fell away and your body went ice cold when you noticed who had slid into the booth with your friends.

Kaz Brekker.

“I choose you and me, religiously.”

You finished your song and curtised to your applauding crowd. You smiled kindly before you hopped off the stage. Jesper was whistling loudly and waving

you over but you shook your head. You hid behind your hand to make your way through the dense crowd, making yourself scarce for the rest of the night.

Finally, though unsure how, you made it back to your room. The laces of your bodice had felt suffocating tight all night after seeing Kaz so as soon as your door shut, you pulled at the ends and took a deep breath.

You had sang in front of Kaz before. He said you had talent the first time he heard, and he was the one who offered you the stage whenever you wanted it. But singing that song in front him felt like you were holding a large sign that said “IM IN LOVE WITH YOU” with a bright red arrow pointing to yourself.

What else was he to think?

I dream of cracking locks = Kaz.

Without ever touching his skin = Kaz.

Every single lyric felt like an allusion to Kaz and you felt

stupider than ever.

You changed into something to sleep in and had just gotten the flush to leave your skin when a quick knock sounded at your door. You groaned quietly and flopped back onto your bed when you called for them to enter. You folded your arms under your head and stared at the ceiling as they came in. The door shut gently behind them, then a few seconds later, the bed dipped with their weight as they sat near your feet.

“If you’ve come to gloat about your lyric suggestion, I’m going to shove you off with my foot.” You warned, assuming it was Jesper.

You were wrong.

“Is that how you welcome all your guests?” He asked and you bolted upright.

You nearly collided with him but he seemed unfazed.

“I was expecting Jesper.” You admitted.

“He was very excited about your lyrics.” He nodded. “You gave him quite the ego boost.”

You groaned and fell back against your mattress again.

“Why are you here?” You asked the ceiling.

“Your song…”

“My song.” You sighed, closing your eyes in embarrassment and to brace yourself for his berating. “It wasn’t something you were meant to hear.”

“I assumed as much when you practically ran from the Club stage.” He agreed, tapping his cane rhythmically against the floor.

“Yes, well, I don’t exactly enjoy being mortified.”

“Though I’m not sure why you ran from me.”

Did he really not put it together?

You sat up on your elbows and gave him a dumbfounded expression. You doubted Kaz Brekker couldn’t figure out the truth behind your song, so you decided you’d play dumb too. The Saints themselves wouldn’t be able

to get you to outright admit to that song being very much so about Kaz, so there’s no way he would get it out of you easily.

“That song was very vulnerable.” You carefully admitted, watching for a reaction but getting nothing. “You weren’t supposed to know.”

“Seemed like you wanted someone to know.”

“Not specifically.” You mumbled. “I blame Jesper and Wylan. They helped me write it and then convinced me to sing it…”

He nodded slightly and you let out a sigh. You pushed yourself to sit up and crossed your legs in front of you. Kaz shifted slightly and intently looked at your expression. You had both lips between your teeth with your brows raised, waiting for him to say something.

“Did you like the song, at least?” You finally asked.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”

You refrained from swatting him with your pillow. Instead, you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“You do realize that could be both insult and compliment, right?”

That half smile grew a little wider and that time, you did hit him with the pillow.

“Jackass.” You laughed and tucked your pillow into your lap.

“Tell me.” He said. “You said ‘there’s no such thing as bad thoughts.’ Did you write that line?”

You nodded. “My sister told me that when we were little, before she was recruited for the Second Army… I was struggling with my first crush and she said that it was okay to think things about people. It mainly mattered what I did with those thoughts.”

“And who do you have thoughts about now?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You pursed your lips and looked down at your scrunched pillow in your lap. It was the perfect opportunity to tell him, you recognized that, but that would mean telling him. The weight of the secret coming off your shoulders was tempting, but the fear of losing your current relationship gripped your heart tightly.

You two didn’t have the same closeness as you did with Wylan or Jesper. You could tell those two anything. Often times you did. But you and Kaz had an unspoken understanding to watch the other’s back. You never feared walking the Barrel or pissing someone off - unusually unintentionally - because you knew Kaz was there for you. In turn, Kaz knew he could depend on you for your part of the job or just your support for his death defying plans.

You were the first to agree to the Ice Court and you two had been an unexpectedly natural pair ever since.

“A man that I'll never quite get over, I fear.” You answered vaguely. “But I doubt I’ll ever truly have.”

“Then he’s a fool.” He said honestly, but the look on his face told you he hadn’t meant to say it.

“No.” You smiled softly. “It’s just… different. He’s different and complicated. I’d choose him and I if I had the chance.”

You were ignoring the fact that you did, in fact, have the chance.

“Complicated…” Kaz repeated.

“Among other things. But that’s one of the things about him.” You looked at your hands rather than him. “He’s clever and caring, but in a ‘I’d rather yell at you for being reckless than tell you I care about your life’ kind of way. And he does these subtle things to show he pays attention and he listens, but if you ever bring it up to him, he’ll deny it. He’s tough to get through to, but if you mean something to him, Saints, he’d burn Ketterdam to the ground to protect you.”

“And you feel guilty having these feelings for him?”

You looked up at him. “Not exactly… It’s more about whether or not I should feel guilty for thinking of him like that.”

“Because you think it's unrequited?”

“I’m almost sure it is. I’ve never seen him have feelings for anyone, except one woman, and it’s not the same with me.” You shook your head sadly.

“Y/N.” He hesitated.

Your brows furrowed. You’d never seen Kaz hesitate.

“You alright, Kaz?” You reached a hand for his arm, a gesture you did with the rest of the Crows without hesitation, then thought the better of it. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re wrong.” He answered carefully.

That answer cleared up nothing.

“About why he treats you differently.” He continued while staring at his hands and you listened quietly, trying to figure out what on earth the man was talking about. “It’s not because he doesn’t care. It’s because he cares about you and that frightens him. Last time he cared about someone, he still lost her. He doesn’t want the same to happen with you.”

“What are you…” You trailed off. Then it hit you. “Oh.”

His hand landed on your leg.

“How did you know?” You asked, not knowing if you should be excited or embarrassed.

Probably both. Both felt right.

“You weren’t exactly subtle.” He joked and you picked up the pillow to whack him again. “And Jesper told me.”

“Saints, that man can run his mouth.” You complained. “I’m going to stop telling him things.”

“Am I bad? Or mad? Or wise?” Kaz repeated your lyrics to you. “To have these feelings about you? To have these thoughts about you?”

“Someone told me there’s no such thing as bad thoughts.” You smiled slightly at him.

It’d be a trial to date Kaz. You always figured it would be, considering his temper and violent tendencies and touch aversion. But the look in his eyes, open and pleading, had you immediately choosing to try.

I choose you and me, religiously. 

Your smile grew a little wider when you felt his finger moving against your leg. 

M-I-N-E

[strvngestark]

I’m almost finished rewatching Anne with an e and my heart is all over the place again like it was 5 years ago when I finished watching season 3 as it was aired

[strvngestark]

RBB

RBB, otherwise known as Rainbow Bondage Bear, has been a hot topic in the fandom for years. A masterpost of sorts has been requested repeatedly, so here it is. The general Larry theory is that RBB and his little friend, SBB (Sugar Baby Bear), were set up at multiple concerts by Louis and Harry to send secret messages about their love to Larries, thus proving Larry’s realness. The anti theory is simply that “a crew member did it for fun.” I am here to offer a third theory that involves multiple players and Modest Management’s approval.

So, who is RBB? RBB is a rainbow Build-a-Bear that was thrown on stage during the WWA tour by a fan.

Someone kept the bear and began to have fun with it.  On August 12, 2014 a Twitter account was created for the bear. The bear only made a few simple posts.

The bear also referenced Judy Garland, a gay icon, a few times.

Many people thought the account was run by Josh Devine, One Direction’s drummer. He posted a picture with the bear, tagging the bear’s original Twitter handle, @Bondagebear1D.

On August 13th RBB appeared at the WWA Philadelphia show. It’s original outfit was a simple “bondage look” made with electrical tape.

The bear also had a tiny pink tag on it that said something about Ziam Levine Stylinson.

The Bear’s original Twitter account was then deleted on August 14th, but the bear appeared again at the Chicago WWA show wearing a cute outfit.

After this RBB disappeared… for awhile. Then, it started showing up again during OTRA. 

It was once again believed Josh was involved cause he kept taking pictures with it. Its first re-appearance was in a picture with Josh on February 2, 2015, dressed as Freddie Mercury.

But it didn’t seem to actually be Josh in control of the bear.

And Josh denied it as well.

So, who was behind the bears?

A full timeline of all the things the bears did would be near impossible, so below is a list of highlights, likely out of order, of some of the semi-important shady, gay, and Larry-related things these bears did.

Twitter

An official Twitter account was set up for RBB in 2015. It would change its profile picture often to various gay icons. It also would change its location often to seemingly match the location of the boys.

It didn’t follow any other accounts or like any other tweets except for one that simply said, “larry ok.”

Louis’ Reflection in the Bear’s Glasses 

One day fans noticed that Louis’ form and shirt appeared to be reflected in RBB’s glasses.

After this occurred, whoever was in charge of RBB began blurring out the glasses to make sure no reflections were visible.

The Bears Were Very Gay

While this might not prove Louis and Harry’s involvement, all the other evidence of Louis and Harry’s involvement with the gay bears might be a decent hint that Louis and Harry are not straight. Something to add to the pile.

The Bear was given Freddie Mercury’s mustache and Devine’s eyebrows. Both massive LGBTQ icons. The bear also dressed like Freddie Mercury often.

RBB also constantly read gay literature, such as a book by Danny La Rue, a gay entertainer that often dressed in drag.

Judy Garland, who is widely considered a gay icon.

And Bette Davis, who also became a gay icon in the 70′s.

The Rolex

One day, the bear was wearing a Rolex.

Let’s take a closer look at the Rolex.

Could it be this Rolex? One that belonged to Mr. Harry Styles himself?

Harry’s Handwriting

At one point the Bears were pictured wrapping Christmas gifts. One of the gifts was for the 1D Potato. 

The handwriting, however, seemed very similar to Harry’s.

RBB Likes the Same Kind of Bear as Louis

Wouldn’t you know. Louis and RBB share the same taste in beer.

Stella Artois has been one of Louis’ favorite beers for quite awhile.

And still is.

Harry Updating RBB’s Twitter?

There were several instances of the RBB Twitter account being updated right before Harry tweeted, which lead people to believe Harry was logging onto Twitter and tweeting from both accounts back to back.

The Drag Queen Incident

One night RBB showed up at a drag show. It was well documented that Louis was also out partying this night.

Yahoo chose to report on this bizarre incident, which lead to an interesting interaction on Facebook with one of the drag queens involved.

And they appeared to confirm that Louis or Harry (or both) did take the bear there.

The RBB + SBB Wedding

RBB and SBB even got married, and present with them was a picture of Larry Grayson, a British TV personality that was gay, but lived his life closeted. 

The Accomplice 

So, were Louis and Harry involved? It would very much appear so. But who could have realistically executed these elaborate set-ups? Louis and Harry were overworked. In the small bits of free time they had, Louis was out clubbing with friends and Harry was often hanging out with Xander and Jeff. They were not only touring, but also working on writing and recording an album. They did not have the time to plan out all the outfits and gay references and order costumes and props. There absolutely had to be someone else thinking up at least some of the set-ups, putting the pieces together, and arranging them on stage. Was it their drummer, Josh? Probably not. Was it some low-level crew member? Also unlikely. 

Enter Kate Moross. Kate Moross was the art director for OTRA. Kate was hired by Modest Management. Kate was given a budget. 

Here is some of Kate’s work on the tour:

But you know what else? Kate is a member of the LGBTQ+ community, and Kate knows RBB, as seen on their IG story in 2018.

So, this is interesting. Kate had the funds, means and interest in LGBTQ+ culture to execute the elaborate bear set-ups. Kate also was given full approval by Modest Management to do whatever they wanted. Being the art director, Kate also likely had the ability to request different lighting arrangements such as the following blue and green light shining onto RBB and SBB.

After OTRA

The thing about the bears, though, is that their saga continued after the boys were no longer on tour, which likely means there was no longer any crew member/art director involvement. At this point, honestly, anyone could have been controlling the bears, but it is assumed to be Louis. Funny enough, a lot of people thought this.

And there was good reason to believe Louis kept the bear and managed its account after OTRA ended.

On November 19th, when the boys were in Hollywood for their Jimmy Kimmel performance. RBB took pictures on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, specifically with gay icons. Normally it would have been hard for Louis or Harry do do this without being recognized, but on this day, these stars were on a part of the road that was closed off for the Kimmel performance.  This meant they had access to it. The OTRA tour crew were no longer with them.

The Bears even continued their antics into 2016, once the band went on hiatus. Most notably, a picture was posted to the Twitter account on Harry’s 22nd birthday.

Something interesting about this is the location of the bears. The bear posted from this location before.

This location stood out because the floor and base board looked identical to the one in Louis’ home, as seen from one of Daisy’s IG stories.

The wall color is slightly different, but the bears could have been photographed in a different room of the house.

What did the boys themselves have to say about RBB?

At the end of 2015, during MITAM promo, the band was asked as a whole what they knew about the rainbow bear. As soon as the question was asked, Niall quickly turned his head towards Louis with a terrified look on his face. Harry took it upon himself to state that he thought the bear was “taped to the scaffolding” by a crew member. His nervous way of speaking, plus Niall’s reaction, lead people to believe he was lying. Harry also downplayed the bear’s role at concerts. RBB was not just “taped to scaffolding” - RBB had elaborate set-ups, outfits, and props for months of the tour. Even if they did not have any involvement, there is no way the boys would have not known this.

In 2017 Louis denied even seeing the bear, which was a bit of an obvious lie since there are pictures of him in close proximity to it. (6:30)

Louis & RBB

To recap:

Where did the bear come from? A fan.

Who kept the bear? Likely Louis.

Was Louis involved? It sure seems that way, based on Niall’s terrified reaction to the question about the bear’s origin, Louis’ reflection in the bear’s glasses, and the bear potentially being photographed at Louis’ house.

Was Harry involved? Based on Harry’s terrible inability to lie when asked about the bear, the note in his handwriting, and the bear wearing his Rolex, I’d have to say yes.

Who executed the elaborate set-ups? Considering Louis and Harry were extremely overworked, and Harry was spending much time away from the band with his friends, it would appear they did not, in fact, have the ability to set up gay rainbow bears discretely every day of tour. But you know who might have? The art director that was given free rein to do what they want, and chose to post a picture with the bear in 2018. Additionally, other band members and crew might have been in on it. It was too big to be just Louis and Harry.

Did this get Modest Management’s stamp of approval? Absolutely. Not only did Modest give Kate, the art director, the funds, but they told them they were allowed to do whatever they wanted. Additionally, this bear was obvious and at every show. If Louis and Harry were sending secret messages without their approval, it would have been shut down rather quickly. 

My conclusion: RBB and SBB were not some secret, covert operation set-up and executed by Louis and Harry to send secret messages to Larries or push back at management. The bears were also not some poor crew member having a laugh. Both of these things would have been shut down rather quickly by management, especially a management hell-bent on closeting Louis and Harry. Louis and Harry definitely appeared to have involvement with the bears, Louis seemingly being the ringleader of the operation, but due to how elaborate it all was, they absolutely needed an accomplice (or several). The art director is the prime suspect, as they were given Modest Management’s approval to do whatever they wanted. The bears were likely partially an art instillation executed by the art director, as well as Louis and Harry having a good time. I believe it started out as fun, but the bears were later used, in part, for gay signaling and LGBTQ+ education. If you look at Louis’ actions over the past few years, this is something he continues to do without the bears. He’s signaled through Polari, pink triangles in his Miss You video, as well as his Just Like You’s National Coming Out Day release date and lyric video. 

Additionally, I have to point out that there is a dark side to RBB and SBB. The dark side comes from Modest Management’s clear approval, and possible encouragement, of the whole operation. The same management team that spent years hiding Louis and Harry’s relationship used their relationship for promo in this case. The same management team that gaslit young fans into believing they’d ruined Louis and Harry’s friendship by shipping them realized Larries were a large part of the fanbase, and therefore allowed RBB to bait and engage with Larries during 1D’s final tour and promo for their final album.

Lastly, One Direction really is the shadiest boy band that ever existed. 

[strvngestark]

three taps (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

or

the three times it took jesper to realize that three taps were something more than a meaningless habit.

warnings: violence, blood, implied se*ual as*ault (not detailed at all and very brief)

a/n: did i write this in less than a day? yes. did the inspiration come to me at six am? also yes. what about your other 50 wip, anna? did you write anything for them? nope.

hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

i. tap, tap, tap

Jesper had seen him do it more times than he could count. It was Kaz’s thing. Three taps, index finger hitting a wooden table, thumb brushing against a map or cane harshly meeting the floor. Most times they were fast taps, like a subconscious action, coming and going before anyone could give it any mind. Other times, however, they were slower, more emphasized, as if trying to make a point. Jesper was used to the taps, as he imagined (Y/N) and Inej also were. The sound came prior to every heist, prior to pronouncing the words of luck (no mourners, no funerals).

It was Kaz’s habit, something he probably did without even realizing, and Jesper couldn’t help but find it oddly comforting, a routine that somehow eased his nerves. (The world could be going to war, Ketterdam could be crashing down in flames, and Kaz would still tap three times. There was a sense of safety in that.)

It wasn’t until Jesper had a closer look that he realized the action was perhaps not as meaningless as he believed.

ii. cane meets ground three times: come back to me, i’m here

(Y/N) had known Kaz the longest out of all of them. Jesper hadn’t known the Slat without her, he hadn’t known Kaz without her. She’d always been there, a person in which the Dregs often found solace and always obtained an ear to listen without judgment. (Y/N) was a walking contradiction, soft around the edges yet powerful enough to bring the toughest people to their knees. She was everything Kaz wasn’t, maybe that was the reason they complimented each other as well as they did.

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