#kaz brekker has manners

[martinakl13]

Kaz Brekker doesn't have manners? The fact that he immediately turned away to give her privacy when she started removing only a small part of her clothes shows that he has manners when he wants to. No one can understand Inej's trauma better than Kaz and give her the respect she deserves.

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Jesper: Personally I think Im worth every headache I give 💁🏾‍♂️

Kaz: Don’t be so certain…

Wylan: Kaz, behave

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Four Crows Investigation" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[vulgar language]

[Part 2 - Lovebirds' Outfox]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

SUMMARY: After Nina makes a passing comment about Brekker’s heartbeat, three crows join her in an investigation to uncover the true nature of your relationship with Kaz.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

Sitting around the table, leaning forward in a secretive manner, the four Crows look nothing short of a conspiracy. Their appearance is in no way deceptive - that’s exactly the reason for their meeting. Nina looks between Jesper’s and Wylan’s shoulders, checking whether you and Kaz are in any way suspicious of their gathering. For now, you look a little too preoccupied with each other. Time for the final conference.

The Heartrender leans even further towards her friends, looking between them with a questioning gaze. She seems to be the most excited about this ‘secretive investigation’, as she called it a week ago, but that should not come as a surprise - all of this has been her idea from start to finish. The moment she noticed Kaz’s heartbeat significantly pick up when you showed up in a ball gown in an attempt to mix in with the immorally wealthy crowd at the banquet, Nina simply had to know more. Her friends, although reluctant at first, joined the scheme out of their own meddling.

“So, what did you manage to find out?” She’s trying to keep her voice quiet but the sheer excitement makes it difficult.

“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this,” Wylan stutters out while shaking his head gently. He may be part of a crime syndicate now but spying on his friends, and his boss, just seems too far.

“Because we care about them?” Jesper asks with fake worry in his voice. Then, a devious smile appears on his face. “And we’re morbidly curious.”

“Can’t we just ask them, then?”

“As if either of them is going to say something,” Inej grunts. Knowing both of you fairly well, she never expected a straightforward question to get anything outside of a snarky comment or a side-eye.

Nina impatiently taps her hand on the table. “Alright, who goes first?”

╚ Jesper’s Evidence  ╝

He knows Kaz is going to get angry the moment he walks through the door but, at the same time, Jesper’s kind of out of options. As much as he hates to admit it to himself and definitely will not do it aloud, he’s facing an impasse.

The moment he pushes the door open, your and Kaz’s eyes snap towards him. He makes a note of your shoulders - brushing against one another as you’re standing over scattered papers, a little too close for practicality or for the closeness to be accredited to accident. You’re definitely giving the impression that he walked in at an inconvenient moment.

But Jesper is good at bluffing, never giving away that he noticed the thought-provoking lack of space between you. “Carliogne won’t talk unless he sees the contract you signed with Bruglione,” he informs. “His reasoning is that we’re probably trying to fuck him over.”

Kaz stares at him for a moment with an unreadable expression. “We are,” he finally answers.

“Well, he doesn’t need to know that for now, does he?”

“It makes sense,” you speak up. Pondering, you nod to yourself. “If he sees the contract, he’ll become less cautious and playing him should be even easier. Just wait a second,” you wave your hand at Jesper, “I think I put it in the bottom drawer.”

The moment you crouch behind the desk, Jesper’s eyes catch movement - Kaz is covering the edge of the table over your head with his hand. Considering that he’s looking at papers in the opposite direction, he might not even be aware of this little habit. The gunslinger stifles a smile. Nina is going to love this.

Soon, you stand back up at the protective hand reaches to flip through a wad of documents as though nothing has happened. Extending your arm towards Jesper, you offer him the folded contract between your two fingers.

“Please, don’t get it stained.”

“Can’t make promises,” he says with a cheeky smile as he snatches the paper from you.

Jesper hears your groan right before he closes the door behind himself.

╚ Wylan’s Evidence  ╝

Wylan rarely got ‘field work’ aside from setting up explosives. The out-of-ordinary occasions were stake-outs, when he’d sit in one place for hours on end waiting for something to happen, having only Jesper’s company to pass the time - not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, that’s the only part that makes those ‘patrol duties’ bearable.

 Although he feels uneasy creepily watching, he’s supposed to wait for an agreed-on sign to carry out his part in the plan. And with Jesper gone to the bathroom, the responsibility of staying vigilant is his only. Sitting on the carriage bench, he has a good view of the street but most of his attention surrounds a certain table at a boulangerie near the junction. You and Kaz are doing a great job at looking common - just drinking coffee, chatting, completely run-of-the-mill people and definitely not hardened criminals ready to call their companions to action when their prey is in sight.

Wylan suddenly sits up, hardly believing the scene unfolding before his eyes: you offer Kaz your bagel and he just… bites it. No glares, no scowls, he just takes a bite and you continue the conversation. Maybe Nina was right and something is up.

The carriage shakes slightly as Jesper gets back on it. “What did I miss?” he asks in an upbeat voice.

╚ Inej’s Evidence ╝

It’s the middle of the night but Inej rarely works at other times. Only one thing stands between her and the comfort of her bed - Kaz. She’s well-aware that he’s still going to be working at this hour, making her wonder once more: when does he rest?

Kaz seems to be expecting her as he doesn’t even flinch when she barges into his office. He just looks up at her for a moment, only to return to writing something. Inej is about to tell him what Lorenzzo Carliogne had been up to during the day, when her eyes focus on a surprising singularity: the daybed standing in the corner of the office, used as an additional shelf or a desk most of the time, is occupied. First, she realizes that it’s you sleeping on it but then another, a much more interesting detail, catches her eye in the dim candlelight of the room - you’re covered with a coat that undoubtedly looks like it belongs to Kaz.

“I take it there’s a reason you’re here at this hour?” Brekker brings her attention back to himself.

“Yes,” she starts, sparing you one last glance before looking at Kaz, “Carliogne lives with his wife and three children. Staff comes in through a separate pair of doors, only the main chef and butler have keys to it. There’s a rotation in guards during lunch.”

“Good,” he answers. Kaz looks up at Inej but again, it’s just for a moment - his focus is soon directed at the papers in front of him.

A silence falls. The thought to inquire about you, the daybed and his coat passes her thoughts but an instinct dissuades her from doing so. Because realistically, what sort of answer would Kaz give her anyway? It’s better to spare herself the snark and just go to bed.

The four friends look between each other, curious whether all of them came to the same conclusion. Tense excitement hangs in the air. There is a certain aspect of juvenile nosyness that entices them, making this whole over-the-top operation fun and not just a gossip convention.

A pout twists Nina’s face. It would have looked sad if it wasn’t for her raised eyebrows, making her expression more compassionate than woeful. “They’re so in love it’s kind of embarrassing,” she announces.

Three pairs of eyes follow her pitiful gaze to the faraway table where you’re sitting with Kaz, oblivious to the interest the Crows have in you. It looks like you’re retelling him a story, gesturing wildly with one of your hands, while the other is kept on the table, underneath his gloved fingers. Kaz is just nodding along, answering something shortly from time to time. 

“Just look at them,” Jesper says with a sense of misguided pride as though he had some contribution in the makings of the couple. He’s shaking his head with amusement. “How could we ever had any doubts?”

“Do you think they know that we know?” Wylan asks quietly.

Inej shrugs. “I don’t think they care.”

[amsgrey]

he just sounds like that

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader (established relationship)

synopsis: Arrogance has no place on a job, but you let it lower your guard. You pay the price, but Kaz helps bring you back.

I kind of like merging Book/Show Kaz and trying to keep accurate to his mannerisms and humour etc so hopefully this is good. I came about this idea after thinking about this scene from TLOU and how Kaz most definitely had an asshole voice. Also, I will probably make a few parts/drabbles about Kaz x Inferni Reader, because I love Kaz no apologies.

Warnings: Mentions of Slavery, reader reliving her time as a slave (briefly), Mentions of scars of wrists from slavery chains etc, A fumbley understanding of the technology of the time and inferni powers (it's been so long since I read the books)

Getting split from the other crows was distressing, but there was nothing you could do about that now. You and Kaz just had to keep going, trying to work your way back to the rendezvous point.

"Tell me again why you thought this would work," You hissed to Kaz, who had been leading you in a circle for what felt like forever.

Kaz gave you an irritated glare, "It did work."

You scoffed, "Yeah, that's why we're lost in this saints forsaken mansion."

Kaz let out an exasperated sigh, "Are you done?"

You and Kaz had known each other for years, the entire time you'd known each other you bantered like this. Kaz would act all irritated and stern, but you knew he silently liked the way you could relieve tension and make even him crack a smile. As the only two Crows born and raised in the farmlands of Kerch, you shared a different connection. You had found each other before The Barrel knew Kaz as the force he was now. Kaz had saved you from Slavers and convinced you to join the Dregs, helping you find a life without fear.

Since then, you followed him through everything, which at this current moment, meant even through the merchant's maze of a mansion. Nina, Matthias and Wylan were somewhere outside, waiting for you, Kaz, Inej and Jesper to get what you were after and meet them. You wondered if they would be growing impatient yet, you were late, which almost never happened on a job with Kaz.

The job had started off as most others, breaking in was always the easy part. You had been privy to Kaz's plans, watching him study a map of the mansion for weeks before he committed to the job. He knew the place like the back of his hand, but he didn't know the extent of the new security measures the merch had introduced.

You and Jesper dawdled behind Inej and Kaz as they led the group through the halls. Occasionally Jesper would pause at a painting or display piece and make comments about its ugliness or stupidity.

The last painting he'd criticized was of an older man, dressed in a bright blue kefta with red embroidery. Jesper had caught your sleeve and pointed it out to you, "Looks like the merch has inferni ancestor."

You had screwed your nose up at the portrait, "I thought he was Kaelish?"

"He is," Kaz said, already at the end of the hall with Inej. He was waiting for the two of you to catch up, like a boy calling his dogs home.

Walking through the mansion felt surreal, mostly because you hadn't been to many places with such decadent displays of wealth. The four of you could move through the hallways unnoticed because the Merch and his family were out at the theatre - or whatever it was rich people did in Ketterdam on Sunday Nights. He had brought most of his guards and men with him, leaving the halls silent and unpatrolled. Kaz had called him an arrogant fool, to declare his mansion impenetrable and then take all his men out to prove it. There was no place able to keep out Dirtyhands, especially not when he had his crows by his side.

Thinking back on it you realized how you all had been too arrogant, thinking this job was in and out, easy. You'd let your guard down - something Kaz warned you to never do in this city - and now you were paying the price.

Everything went wrong when you and Kaz finally found what you were looking for - the merch's family jewel, a sapphire embedded in rich Kealish gold. You had easily broken through the fabrikator-made lock, it might have been made by a Grisha but it couldn't hold up against a Grisha. Especially not one who could melt metal with the same ease as cutting pastry. Kaz had reached for the jewels, as soon as he lifted it off the display the room filled with an ominous hum. Like the sound of a machine slowly whirring to life.

Kaz had pocketed the jewels, grabbing your forearm and tugging you along behind him as he went for the door Jesper and Inej were guarding. Before you could make it metal bars slid down over the doorway. You had tried to use your small science to melt the metal, even Jesper tried to budge it, but nothing worked. Kaz ordered Inej and Jesper to find their own way out as alarms chimed, directing you back through the room to another exit.

You had followed behind him willingly, knowing he knew the way around the mansion. You'd been irritated to learn how wrong you were, Kaz knew the layout of the mansion but the Merch had updated the floorplan. Clearly, another Fabrikator addition to hinder thieves.

"Wait," Kaz held up his hand and you barrelled straight into his back at the sudden halt, "Do you hear that?"

Footsteps.

"Back," Kaz whispered, ushering you back the way you had come.

You got to the end of the hall before you heard more bodies approaching, you were surrounded. Immediately you went to the window, trying to pull at the latch and open it. It didn't work, but you could see light dancing on the tree line.

"Kaz," You called, "Look."

You both squinted into the dark, trying to distinguish who it was in the woods. You saw the glint of steel, like someone was spinning a revolver.

"It's Jesper."

The footsteps were getting louder, there was no way you and Kaz could get out of this on your own.

"Step back," You struck your flint, the sparks allowing you to create a ball of flame. You concentrated it as small as it would allow, pressing your palms against the window until cracks started forming. After a few more seconds the pane shattered, sending the shards falling to the ground below. You were on the second floor, even if you wanted to jump there was no way you and Kaz would be able to land safely. You settled for sending up a burst of flames, Jesper and the others would be on the lookout for it, your SOS symbol.

"Stop!" Someone shouted and all hell broke loose.

You and Kaz fought well side by side, you both knew each other's moves, working in tandem to take down opponents. It looked like you might win for a little while, then a woman rounded the corner with her hands pressed together. Heartrender, you realized it too late.

You were woken suddenly, like your heart was all of a sudden coming back to life. You gasped and spluttered, lungs burning. Your hands were bound above your head, separated by a thick metal rod so that you couldn't summon. Already you could feel the ache in your shoulders, hanging from your arms was something you had been used to when you were a slave. Now, you had to fight back the panic that tried to grip your heart.

You struggled to find your footing for a moment, but eventually managed to stand up enough to take the strain off of your wrists.

Kaz.

Where was Kaz?

"Look, Brekker. Your girls fine."

You squinted to find where the voice was coming from, finding the source across the room. Kaz was standing opposite a burly man nearly a foot taller than him. Kaz's face was bloody and bruised, but he had murder in his eyes. You could see it, feel it, all the way across the room. You realized it wasn't just Kaz and the merchant; the other crows were there too. Inej held a blade against the heartrenders throat from earlier, who had both her hands held far apart to show her cooperation. Jesper was not too far away, his pistols in hand as he stared down a man who stood in between you and him.

What did I miss?

"No harm was done," The merchant continued, his voice thick with a Kaelish accent, "What do you say we part ways, unharmed."

Kaz's face didn't change, "Sure."

The Merchant frowned, a glimpse of fear breaking through his resolve, "I don't like your tone, boy."

"He always sounds like that," Jesper joked, glancing at you.

"He has an asshole voice," You agreed. Not two nights ago you and Jesper had been saying the same thing to Matthias at the Slat. You and Jesper enjoyed teasing the Fjerdan, especially regarding Kaz and his 'demjin' ways.

Kaz looked amused, he had the Merchant in the palm of his hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."

The Merchant almost tripped as he ran away, not even stopping for his Heartrender and right-hand man who followed behind him just as quick.

With the immediate threat gone, you felt your resolve begin to crumble. You had to get out of these chains. They would rub your wrists every time you moved, bringing you straight back to your past.

"Stop moving," An older woman had warned you, "It hurts less."

She was probably right, but you were too terrified to listen. Hours ago you were playing on your family's farm, but now you were chained to the roof in a dark, damp cellar. The chains were rusted and coarse, they rubbed the skin around your wrists raw, leaving cuts and grazes everywhere they pressed.

You were only eight, by far the youngest of all the slaves in the cellar. The chains they used to bind you didn't have cuffs, the slavers had just looped the links around your wrists and locked them tight. All you felt was the pain and the fear. All of this because you were Grisha? You only just learned of your power as an Inferni, how could you be worth anything?

The older woman tried to console you, doing her best to quell your tears and sobs, but even she knew the horrors that awaited you. The horrors you would spend years fighting to escape.

"Y/N," Kaz's voice was soft, he stood in front of you, supporting your weight as Jesper worked on freeing your hands from the chains. "Stay here."

You knew he was trying, you could see his own emotions clawing at him. It was one of the things that bound you and Kaz together, the demons of your past. You understood what it was like to fear touch and he understood what it was like to be betrayed. You helped each other, through the flashbacks and nightmares. You two didn't have anyone else, so you fought to have each other.

When Jesper finally broke through the chains, you lurched forward unexpectedly. Kaz held you tighter, trying to keep you upright even with his bad leg. You stood up, holding your hands out to balance yourself.

'I'm okay," You lied, trying to avoid Jesper and Inej's worried glances, "We should get out of here."

Back at the Slat, you sat staring at your cup of cocoa. Nina had made it for you as her way of trying to help, she could hear that your heartbeat hadn't stopped racing since leaving the job.

Jesper and Wylan had offered you gentle conversation, but you couldn't hold it for long. You had claimed you were tired, bidding your friends goodnight and climbing the stairs to your room. You didn't stop at your floor. Your feet carried you further up the steep stairs, stopping when you reached the attic which Kaz had converted into his own room. You didn't have to knock, you just opened the door and announced yourself.

Behind closed doors, Kaz was less concerned about keeping up his Dirtyhands persona. He smiled ever so slightly as you sat on his bed. A few months ago you had forced him to rearrange his room so that you could see him working while you lounged on his bed. You often ended up like this, watching him work after long days and taking comfort in each other's presence.

This time, Kaz wasn't concerned with his papers, he just looked at you, waiting for you to talk. You had talked Kaz through his own episodes many times, you never pushed him or asked him to move quicker than he was ready. For the first time, Kaz wanted to offer you the same comfort, but he wasn't sure if he could.

You were rubbing your wrists, stuck in your own memories of your time chained.

Kaz slowly joined you, giving you time to pull away. You glanced over at him, watching him as he slowly removed his gloves.

"Kaz-"

Kaz shook his head to silence you, continuing what he was doing. He placed his gloves neatly on the bedside table, turning to you. He reached out slowly and you let him. He gently pried your fingers away from your wrist, taking your hands in his own. He turned your palms up, his fingers slowly ghosting over the scars on your skin.

Kaz could feel the warmth of your skin through his fingertips. It helped him fight off the flashbacks, the warmth reminding him you were safe, healthy, alive.

Kaz's fingers traced over a scar on your right thumb. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips.

Kaz's head snapped up to look at you, fear filling his eyes.

"I'm okay," You meant it this time. The flashbacks were gone, locked in the vault in the back of your mind.

Kaz could tell that you meant it, see the anxiety leave your face. He drew his hands back, reaching for his gloves again. You smiled at him as he slipped his hands back into them, the leather bringing him the comfort he needed.

Kaz offered you a quiet apology.

"Kaz," You couldn't help the adoring smile on your face, "It's okay."

You knew Kaz could handle contact more when his gloves were on, so you gently took his hand. Kaz watched as you copied his movements from earlier, gently opening up his fingers. You slowly raised his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I love you," You said, "Gloves and all."

Kaz smiled, a genuine smile that you only saw in the safety of these four walls.

He let out a quiet reply, "I love you too."

[catapparently]

Kaz Brekker Headcanons

Cat entering her hc era thanks to my maid of honor @x-liv25 . Please go read her TIG headcanons!

MASTERLIST

Kaz once said "you shouldn't make friends with crows," "why not?" "they don't have any manners." I headcanon that he tried to feed a crow and actually be nice to it but it bit him so now he forever holds the grudge

He has a stack of makeup in his desk drawer in case he needs to change his face up a bit for a job and he's excellent at it

At some point, when he was still struggling with finding a job after Jordie's death, he stole someone's purse and found bronzer/contour that he used to draw himself abs to look strong and "hirable".

He doesn't mind touching animals without his gloves

He realized that when he tried to save an abandoned kitten in the rain when he was younger

He felt bad for it because it reminded him of him and Jordie

He saw it as a debt-ish to Jordie to save the kitten

It once brought Kaz a mouse as a gift and Kaz genuinely appreciated the gesture

Kaz POV: "What a distinguished gentleman who knows I'm worthy of great gifts and appreciation"

Kaz knew he couldn't really keep a cat in his line of work, it'd be a weakness, so when it was old enough, he snuck it into Pekka's office and watched the vicious little feline tear Pekka's stuff to shreds

"A cat after my own heart"

When Kaz got the Dregs tattoo, he didn't want the artist to touch him, so he tattooed the logo himself. It was a bit shaky but then he hired a Tailor to fix the edges without touching him

Alternative solution to the bad edges: He fixes them up with stolen foundation whenever he isn't wearing long sleeves or something that would cover it up.

They day he first saw Inej and she snuck up on him, he had a panic attack but hid it well

At this point in his life, he was used to being in control, to knowing everything. Having Inej sneak up on him (and knowing that she could have potentially killed him without him having time to retaliate had she been trained) freaked him out. He felt weak, Kaz Rietveld again.

Kaz spends half an hour every other day locked in his office without his gloves, lathering his hands in hand cream.

Whenever he'd grab someone by the collar or any form of violence with contact, the last thing the victim could think about is why his hands smell nice. Nobody ever lived to tell the tale.

He's a sucker for a good chocolate cake.

He absolutely HATES ice cream. It makes too much of a sticky gooey mess for him.

He also probably has a sensitive throat so he doesn't really eat cold/frozen stuff or drinks

Once he made a deal with Nina which resulted in him going to a café to buy her a pumpkin spice latte. Once he sniffed Nina's, he quickly bought another one for himself and chugged it before he could get back. Obviously he did that in a dark alleyway so that nobody could see him and use it as blackmail.

Once he used (obviously stolen) paint to decorate his very own set of cards.

He then made another elaborate plan of his and managed to auction them off for a grotesque amount of kruge.

Probably forged DeKappel's signature on the back of each with perfect precision

For those that forgot, DeKappel is some famous painter in the series. Kaz stole a DeKappel oil painting from Van Eck.

Help I didn't realize how fun HCs were, I could make a thousand of these

[luna-writes-stuff]

What types the Crows would fall for:

Includes Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan van Eck, Nina Zenik, and Matthias Helvar.

————————————————————————

Kaz Brekker:

This man relies on every realistic aspect. Whenever planning something, or even thinking about something, he runs through everything that could go wrong and analyses it properly. He needs someone with a mind that completely contradicts it. Someone who could think of creative solutions he usually wouldn’t come up with. And not only the mental aspect of creative. If you engage in something such as painting or embroidery, he’d love that too. His mind is complicated, and completely logistic and analytical. He doesn’t leave much room for imagination or creativity. He relies on you to do that for him. And when you can, it’ll grow on his list of things to adore you for. Your ideas are the most captivating for them; he’s always admired a good mind. But that doesn’t mean other outings of creativity go unwanted by him. He will proudly display your items throughout his office, leaving portraits for heists hanging in the halls.

——

Inej Ghafa:

Inej is very hesitant because of obvious reasons. She has been through some stuff and it still messes with her. She’d 100% love someone who just soothes her when necessary, but in a somewhat distant manner. Words of affirmation or tiny services are good enough for her. She’d fall for the type who is able to see the good in everything. To turn even the glummest of points into something somewhat positive. When she has that dip in her mood, she tends to see the worst in everything and make it add to her already terrible state. If you would point out all the things that she can learn from this, or all the things that are not necessarily evil, she’d be comforted so much. Even by the mere thought of it. Gently reassure her that you’re there, even after everything she has been through. She can run to you, she can find refuge with you. She adores the way your voice switches tone when she’s down, or how you’ll approach others on a daily basis. Everything about you is so calming, not just to her. She takes great pride in that.

——

Jesper Fahey:

Outwit him, please. When he flirts, flirt back. Play that uno reverse card. It only takes one sarcastic or charismatic remark to make him fall. “You come here often?” “No, but seeing you here, I think I should.” BOOM, GONE. Just like that. Now, he’ll constantly follow you around, placing compliments here and there, flirting with you continuously. He’ll buy your drinks, he’ll hold your chair, he’ll take your coat. This man becomes a puppy, but with attitude. And once you actually get together, he will not stop. But now he’ll include kisses on top of your head, hands around your waist, hugs from behind, hands buried in your pockets, hands running through your hair, hands everywhere. He needs to be touching you constantly. If you grow uncomfortable under this, he’ll try to keep his hands to himself, but he cannot help the occasional touch on your shoulder. A simple remainder he is still there. He respects it, he truly does, but he cannot always help himself. You’re just so gorgeous and witty and breathtaking and you picked him???? He wants to show that shit off, okay?

——

Wylan van Eck:

As Kaz, Wylan has always loved creative people. Mentally or practically. Most adoration would go towards sculptors, I’d like to believe. Whether you create tiny statues out of clay or huge cut out marble. He doesn’t care. Hell, you could make a birdhouse from wood and he’d like it. Though your looks and kindness would initially captivate him, his admiration grows as he discovers your hobbies. And from that, he decided to do a lot of actual research! Need some inspiration? He’s your guy. He makes it his entire duty to give you a good idea. I’m talking, nose deep into books to note something. He himself loves to tell stories, and it gives you a lot of ideas through this. The funniest part is that he doesn’t even know it. When he tries to look for something, you usually dismiss it (kindly), but when he’s ranting about something or comes up with a funny story, the ideas start flowing. Late nights are always spent on the bed, hand entangled as he talks and you listen, occasional kisses places on top of your head.

——

Nina Zenik:

Nina is smitten with badasses. I mean the people who practise sports such as Kung-Fu, Judo, Krav Maga, boxing etc. etc. Not only is it incredibly hot to her, because who wouldn’t think it’s hot, but she loves the movement of your figure throughout the practises. It looks so flawless and graceful. There is so much commitment and dedication in your eyes, she thinks it is absolutely stunning. And you, quite literally, kick ass. It’s a turn on for her, okay? Anyone who can beat her in physical combat. If you have some good strong arm and/or leg muscles to go with that, she falls even deeper. Because, you’re kidding. Not only are you the most awesome person she has ever met, but there are muSCLES???? You actually met through a argument gone wrong at the Crow Club. Someone got too close to a friend of yours and you full on body slammed them into the table. She was nearby when it happened, and she thought that person was going for her. In her eyes, you saved her. You haven’t corrected her on it. She’d wrap her arms around one of yours when walking constantly. Not because it makes her feel safer - even though it does -, but because you’re so damn huggable, she cannot get enough of it.

——

Matthias Helvar:

We have seen him around Nina; he needs some joy in his life. Someone who makes him laugh. And that’s a whole task. Initially, you had stumble into something and you ended up falling like an idiot, but Matthias thought it was absolutely hilarious. And since that laugh, you had begun to make it a task to hear that more often. Yes, he had a nice laugh, but also, his usual stoic self seems to fade away so flawlessly. It’s a whole other side for him, which you seem to appreciate very much. And for him; who doesn’t love laughing? Being so gleeful you have to audibly out it? That is why he fell for you. He felt so happy and relieved around your mere presence. He knew he was safe with you and vice versa. You bring out the best in him, as cheesy as it may sound. And now, he will protect you with his life. He has this habit of stepping near you every time someone nears. Subtly, at first, but eventually he’d end up blocking your view entirely. That’s his sunshine. No one touches it with evil intent.

[mcntsee]

Skillful deception

Summary: Y/n and Kaz bond over magic tricks.

Warnings: I’d say ooc but we all know kaz is a nerd when it comes to magic tricks. Also, I explained how two sleight of hand tricks work. The pen vanish, which Kaz performs during season two of Shadow and bone (pic above) and, raise rise, a famous sleight of hand trick. So if you don’t want to know how those two work, I recommended skipping this fic.

Note: If you wanna learn any of the tricks, the vanishing pen trick is easy and there’s a lot of tutorials out there. It only requires practice and angles. For Raise rise, the creator is selling the “tutorial”. It’s not very expensive, and in my opinion it’s worth it and a really good party trick.

As the sound of shuffling cards filled the dimly lit room, Kaz Brekker sat across from y/n, his eyes trained on her hands with a curious glint. He had always admired her dexterity, but little did he know that her skill went beyond mere nimbleness of fingers. Y/n had kept her abilities as a magician hidden from the entire crew of the Dregs, including the infamous Kaz Brekker.

"What trick are you going to show me today, Kaz?" y/n asked, her voice tinged with playful anticipation.

Kaz smirked, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, holding it up for y/n to see. "Today, I'll teach you a little trick I learned when I was younger. It's a classic, really."

He demonstrated, swiftly flicking his wrists, causing the pen to disappear. With a sly smile, he slowly opened his hand, revealing an empty palm. "See? The pen vanishes right before your eyes."

Y/n chuckled softly, her fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the cards on the table. "Ah, yes. I remember when I first learned that trick. Although, I’ll admit, I couldn’t quite get the pen to flick back correctly for a while. I kept using to much strength and the pen kept flying off."

Kaz raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Is that so? I've never heard you mention your interest in magic before."

She shrugged casually. "Well, I suppose everyone has their secrets, don't they? But since we're sharing tricks, how about I show you one I've perfected?"

Intrigued, Kaz leaned back, giving her the stage. Y/n picked up the deck of cards she was previously playing with and shuffled them in a skilled and professional manner, the movements fluid and precise. Once satisfied with the shuffle, she held the deck in her hand and took the card from the top, showing it to Kaz.

"Well, that's not a very good trick," Kaz commented, feigning disappointment.

Y/n chuckled, her laughter filling the room. As she laughed, she carefully placed the card in the middle of the deck, allowing a portion of it to stick out just enough for Kaz to see its position. She then proceeded to make a cut between the card sticking out and the bottom of the deck, so the card sticking out could be at the bottom and not the middle.

Undeterred, y/n began flicking her wrist upward, each motion causing the card to move incrementally higher within the deck. Kaz's eyes widened as he observed the impossible, the card rising through the deck as if defying gravity. Y/n's fingers danced with practiced precision, the card inching its way to the top.

With a triumphant smile, y/n revealed the top of the deck, showcasing the returned card. "Ta-da! The card has returned to its original place."

Kaz stared in awe, his skepticism replaced with fascination. "How did you do that?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

A coy smile played on y/n's lips as she uttered the words Kaz himself often used. "A good magician..." y/n started "...never reveals their secrets," Kaz finished, his admiration for her talent growing with each passing moment.

Y/n continued to amaze Kaz, showcasing an array of tricks with cards, coins, and even small objects she made disappear and reappear at will. Each time, Kaz marveled at her finesse, the way she effortlessly deceived the eye and brought wonder into the room.

As the evening wore on, y/n and Kaz shared their hidden magic tricks, delighting in the joy they found in these illusions. The bond between them deepened, their shared secrets and the enchantment of their tricks creating a connection unlike any other.

“You really want to know how the Raise Rise trick works, Brekker?” Y/n waited for a couple second for Kaz to either deny or accept the offer. After a quick nod from the man himself, she held the deck in her hand and began to explain the Raise Rise trick.

“Ok then, this is how the trick works,” y/n began, her voice filled with excitement. “First, I’ll show you the top card, just like before. After showing it to you, I’ll place it in the middle of the deck, sticking out slightly, so we can keep track of its position.”

Kaz nodded, his eyes fixed on y/n’s every move.

“Next, watch closely,” y/n continued. “As I perform a cut, I’ll be carefully switching the position of the card sticking out with the one below it. This allows the original selected card to move back to the top of the deck while the switched card is now the one sticking out.”

With a swift motion, y/n performed the cut, executing the subtle switch seamlessly but slowly so he could see what she was talking about. Kaz’s eyes focused intently, trying to catch any hint of the sleight of hand.

“Now, every time I flick my wrist, my thumb pushes out a new card to stick out, while my index finger makes the previous card go back in,” y/n explained. “The key is to execute these movements quickly and smoothly, ensuring that the switch is imperceptible to the audience’s eyes.”

With practiced finesse, y/n flicked her wrist, causing the card to rise slightly. She repeated the motion, each flick elevating the card higher within the deck. The illusion of the card defying gravity took hold, captivating Kaz’s attention.

“You see, Kaz,” y/n said, her voice filled with satisfaction. “By swiftly alternating the movement of the cards, I can create the illusion of the selected card rising through the deck until it reaches the top again, even though it has been there for some time now.”

Kaz’s awe and admiration were evident on his face as he watched the mesmerizing display.

“Now it’s your turn, Kaz,” y/n said, handing him the deck. “Give it a try.”

Kaz accepted the deck, feeling a mix of excitement and determination. He observed y/n’s graceful movements, committing them to memory. Holding the deck in his hands, he prepared himself to execute the trick.

With a flick of his wrist, Kaz revealed the top card to y/n, mirroring her earlier demonstration. However, as he attempted the cut, his gloved fingers fumbled, causing the cards to slip from his grasp and scatter across the table.

Undeterred, Kaz let out a frustrated grunt and gathered the scattered cards, determined to try again. He meticulously reshuffled the deck, his focus unwavering. Once more, he lifted the top card to show y/n and attempted the cut. But once again, his fingers failed to execute the maneuver with the necessary finesse.

A sense of disappointment gnawed at Kaz as he made several more attempts, each one resulting in failure. The smooth flow of the trick eluded him, and he let out a long sigh of frustration, finally giving up.

Y/n reached out and slightly placed a comforting hand on Kaz’s gloved one, her voice filled with empathy. “It’s alright, Kaz. The cut can be challenging, even for the most skilled magicians. It takes time and practice. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

After that night, Kaz spent weeks practicing tirelessly. He analyzed every failed attempt, dissecting the intricacies of his movements and making subtle adjustments. The deck became an extension of his being as he honed his skill, his gloved fingers growing increasingly deft.

One night, as the moon cast a silvery glow upon the city, Kaz burst into y/n’s room, his expression a mix of exhilaration and triumph. “Y/n, I’ve done it! I can finally perform the trick!”

Y/n’s eyes widened with anticipation, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Show me, Kaz.”

With a calm yet purposeful demeanor, Kaz picked up a deck of cards and expertly shuffled them. His gloved hands moved with a newfound grace and precision, a testament to the weeks of relentless practice. The deck seemed an extension of his being as he held it steady.

As he lifted the top card to show y/n, a spark of excitement danced in his eyes. He carefully placed the card in the middle of the deck, executing the cut flawlessly. With a flick of his wrist, he initiated the sequence of movements, each one executed with absolute control.

Card after card rose and fell with seamless fluidity, defying the laws of gravity as if dancing to an otherworldly rhythm. Kaz’s fingers moved with practiced elegance, every flick and shift executed with unyielding precision. And then, in a crescendo of astonishment, the selected card resurfaced at the top of the deck.

Y/n applauded, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “Kaz, you’ve done it! You’ve mastered the Raise Rise trick!”

A sense of accomplishment washed over Kaz as he met y/n’s gaze, his usually stoic expression softened by a proud smile. “Have you got any other incredibly hard tricks for me to learn, y/n?”

As y/n took the cards from his gloved hand, she said “this is called Ascanio Spread”

[unrequitedloveletter]

Contented- K.B x fem! reader

This one was requested by @levis-dilutedbleach​! I don’t think I’ve written something of this sort in the two years I’ve been writing for Kaz and if I have, it has been a very long time since I last wrote something of this sort, so thank you for sending it in and I hope you enjoy!

Fic type- this is very fluffy

Warnings- none

Yours and Kaz’s relationship was anything but typical, but it did have it’s typical moments. Moments like the one where, after you’d hit the one year mark, you asked if he’d like to attend dinner with you and your parents, and he had said yes. 

You were the daughter of a wealthy merch that lived in the financial district and you had an apartment in the area, and that fact alone was enough to put Kaz on edge. Dealing with merchants was typically easy though certainly a rare enough occurrence in his life, and still. The fact that your father was a merchant and the fact that he was your father was enough to make him just a bit jittery. 

It was something he’d schooled out of his expression and daily mannerisms with a practiced carefulness that some would’ve found impressive, but it was still something you had noticed. 

You commented on it as the two of you walked up the steps to the front door, hand ghosting over his arm in what would’ve been a comforting gesture but never touching it to respect Kaz’s touch aversion. 

“Don’t be nervous,” you said. “My mother has very low expectations given that she knows your status in the Barrel, so as long as you don’t act much like you do when we’re in the Slat and you’re running a mean streak, all will be well. My father is...well, he’s my father. He takes a bit of getting used to.” 

You knocked on the door, once, twice, and one of the staff answered, greeting you with a smile. You went in, took off your coats and your shoes. Kaz glanced at his gloves daringly for a moment before shaking his head at himself. 

As the two of you proceeded down the hallway that lead to the dining room, Kaz straightened his tie and ran a self conscious hand over his dark hair in the last second before the two of you spotted a woman who might’ve been you but thirty years older. Kaz had a split second to do so, but he managed to smile and hoped it came off as warm. 

“The refined Kaz Brekker, I assume?” She asked. Kaz nodded and registered a man who must’ve been your father approaching.

“Barrel businessman,” your father intoned. “Criminal, really. Shameful business model.” 

“I run my clubs as fairly and efficiently as possible,” Kaz responded, already sensing a dislike from your father. “There is no conning in my clubs, and when there is, it is dealt with accordingly. I thank you for the businessman comment, though, so few recognize me as more than Barrel trash.” 

Barrel trash that was a force to be reckoned with, of course, but he forced himself to bite his tongue. The aim of the meeting was to get your parents to like him, not to argue with your father over the expensive wine or the taste of the cheese on the charcuterie board. 

“Kaz Brekker,” your father greeted. “It is...well, it is something indeed, to finally be able to make your acquaintance.”

Your mother took you by the hands and gave Kaz a kind smile. “You two have most certainly arrived on time! Dinner is to be served any minute, and the table is set!” 

Kaz followed you and your mother to the table set for four, took a seat on your right and across from your father. 

“Do tell us more of your clubs, Mr. Brekker,” your father said. “I do hear that they’re all the rage among the tourists.” 

“The Crow Club is largely a gambling hall,” Kaz said. “Makkers Wheel, Three Man Bramble, games mostly. There’s a bar for those who aren’t interested in gambling and a lot of seating for those looking to dine at the establishment. The Silver Six is more of the same, and I would like to think it’s a step up from what it used to be.” 

“Oh yes! I’ve gambled at the Kaelish Prince during a few meets with my coworkers--that Pekka Rollins who ran it was bloody awful. Lots of those games were rigged and the liquor sometimes tasted quite odd.” 

You glanced at Kaz. 

“Had a few squabbles with Rollins myself,” Kaz said. “Dregs business and irrelevant, though. Glad he’s gone.” 

“Glad you took it over,” your father said. “I think I’ll visit the Silver Six, get a taste for what it’s like to gamble in a place owned by my daughters most beloved.” 

“I do hope you’ll enjoy, then,” Kaz said. “Tell me what day you and your lot come down--I’ll man a couple of games at the tables.” 

“He’s excellent,” you said. “I won’t say he’ll ensure you win the pot of money that you and your work friends will put down because he likes a fair game, but he’s really excellent with cards. When he mans a game, it’s in his hands the whole time. Mesmerizing to watch.” 

Kaz shot you a thankful smile, and the dinner continued as such. Kaz’s father attempting to a throw a curveball at him, Kaz catching the ball and tossing it back into your fathers yard. Eventually, when your father grew tired of the games and decided he liked Kaz well enough, you both noticed it, and you watched Kaz’s shoulders deflate along with his nerves bit by bit throughout the rest of the night.

A couple hours in, Kaz was making your father laugh and relishing in the way you laughed when your mother took your hands and told you that Kaz must’ve been the one, that they were sorry for how they’d judged him without knowing him so well. 

Kaz could relax. He’d impressed both of your parents with only a few glasses of wine, a twelve course meal that took you all quite some time to eat because you were so busy talking, and the beginnings of a lemon meringue pie for dessert. 

By the time that you were leaving, your mother was hugging you and your father was shaking Kaz’s gloved hand--he’d asked first, the rumors of the touch aversion lingering in every corner of Ketterdam no matter the district--and Kaz was hoping that the waters would not rise while simultaneously hoping that your father was impressed by it.

Kaz walked you to your apartment and chose to stay the night in the end, the two of you sleeping far enough away from one another that you didn’t risk waking up to find your bodies entangled and triggering Kaz’s touch aversion.

As he drifted, Kaz couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Your parents liked him. He had won their approval. It was enough to keep him contented through to the next morning, your presence enough to keep him contented forever. 

[jahayla-parker]

Risk : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Description: 1.7k wc. Reader is in a no-longer-secret relationship with Kaz, making her a risk to him. Will he accept such a risk?

Warnings: mentions of injuries, infections, near death, capture/kidnapping, and similar SoC topics, Kaz threatening others, protective!Kaz, themes of violence, mentions of war , confessions, mentions of romantic feelings such as love, etc.

Kaz groaned, rubbing his face with his gloved hands. He and y/n had been debating over how to handle this aspect of their relationship. Kaz had tried to keep it a secret to keep y/n safe, but it hadn’t lasted. Which was why he was now stressing out about their next steps.

A few weeks ago, a rival gang member caught wind of Dirtyhands’ relationship with y/n. And as such, decided to take advantage of the one risk Kaz allowed himself to have. They’d tried to use y/n as leverage to blackmail Brekker into giving over a decent amount of Kruge.

While Kaz was surprisingly (even to himself) willing to do so, he knew he could handle it though a different manner. Dirtyhands found the compound where y/n was at and it only took him a matter of a few minutes to get her out of there. Kaz (with the help of his other Crows) was aided in his rescue mission by y/n herself. She’d been able to free herself and find a hiding place inside the rival compound. Due to the injuries she’d suffered when fighting the capture in the first place, y/n couldn’t fully escape on her own. But, she’d done more than enough to help Kaz and the others break in and get her out with ease.

Nevertheless, the incident and subsequent nearly-fatal infection y/n had to fight off, had Kaz stirring restlessly since then. As such, he was proposing telling the Barrel of their relationship and making it clear what would happen if anyone tried to harm y/n or otherwise use her against him. Kaz went so far as to propose they go to war with the Kikkers, the gang responsible for her attack.

Kaz had already obviously handled the men directly responsible for y/n’s capture and injuries. But, he wasn’t satisfied. He’d nearly lost the one thing truly important to him. Declaring war on the Kikkers would not only be a small reparation for the offense, but would also send a sign to the rest of the Barrel to not come near y/n.

“You were so close to dying,” Kaz’s raspy voice said. “I….I was so worried,” he admitted in a hushed volume. It wasn’t easy to confess such things to anyone, but y/n wasn’t understanding why he was so adamant about this. If Kaz was being completely honest, worried was an understatement; terrified, paralyzed, guilt ridden, and enraged would’ve been more synonymous with his feelings.

“I’m sorry,” y/n frowned. “I know you regret it now…” she sighed as she stared at her lap.

Kaz took a step closer, eyes scanning y/n’s body language. “Regret what?” He asked.

“This…, us,” y/n answered. She winced as her voice cracked. Y/n braved a glances up at Kaz as she explained, “you don’t like it when anyone is or becomes a risk to you”. It was something she knew, but it hurt knowing their relationship has been outed and meant she now said risk.

"Do you think I'd drop my walls like this for just anyone?" Kaz asked, narrowing his eyes at y/n. “I admitted I was scared.. for you,” he told her, “I’ve not done that with anyone else”. Kaz shifted his jaw as he broke eye contact, the situation being too overwhelming to maintain that additional level of intimacy. “You’re… we’re… a risk I’m willing to take.”

Y/n was not able to contain her grin. She knew Kaz had just, in his own way, confessed how much he cared for her, how strong his feelings for her were. Y/n bit her bottom lip bashfully as she looked up at him, corners of her lips still curled into a smile.

“But, your safety is not,” Kaz amended. He stood next to y/n, pointing at the notes on his desk. The notes Kaz had drafted to show y/n his plans for the impending war he intended to set forth over what had been done to her.

Y/n sighed. She cautiously set her hand on Kaz’s gloved one, giving plenty of time for him to pull away before they touched. “Kaz,” y/n cooed quietly.

Kaz stared at their touching hands and shook his head. This was the closest he’d gotten. He wanted to be further, to be able to offer more to y/n. And, Kaz had set his mind to doing so as time went on. It was his not only willingness to do so, but actual desire, for said physical contract that demonstrated another example of how much y/n meant to him. “Everyone that I've loved has been taken from me,” Kaz rasped, “I can't let that happen to you”.

Y/n’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. “Y-You love me?”

Kaz swallowed thickly, looking away from y/n’s intoxicating eyes. “They say that when a man loves a woman, she becomes his weakness,” he answered.

“Okay…” y/n mumbled, trailing off with confusion.

Kaz took a visibly deep inhale. “I…,” he began, looking y/n again, “you’re my weakness…”. Kaz couldn’t get himself to actually say the words, it even to directly say yes to her saying the words. This was the closest way Kaz could answer the question truthfully without actually answering.

Y/n fought back a wide grin. However, she noticed Kaz’s eyes were searching her for signs if she returned the sentiment. Y/n knew he wouldn’t ever actually ask her. And, she suspected if speaking in such ambiguous language was easier for Kaz, her confessing the same way would make this less intense and overwhelming for him. “You know the other side to that ideology though, don’t you?”

Y/n noticed Kaz elected to wait silently for her to continue. She smiled warmly at him before she explained the second half of the verse. “When a woman truly loves a man, he becomes her strength. This is called the exchange of power,” she recited. When Kaz simply nodded a single time, y/n let her grin widen. “Therefore, I suppose this means there’s been a full exchange of power.”

Kaz was silent. But, the small smile on his normally stoic face said plenty. He admired y/n in silence for a moment before his smile changed into a smirk. “Does that mean you accept the terms of the plan?” Kaz dared to ask.

“That’s not where I was going with that, Kaz,” y/n pointed out.

Kaz nodded. “I know,” he said as he offered y/n another small smile to show her that he’s on same page. But then he went back to smirking. Kaz’s eyes twinkled hopefully as he repeated his question, “but, does it?”

Y/n laughed and rolled her eyes. She silently shook her head lightly. “While you might be my strength,” she began, quoting the ideology referenced earlier. “It just seems drastically violent,” y/n argued.

Kaz stared knowingly at y/n. He knew he didn’t need any words to get his response across.

“Okay, drastically violent for me,” y/n amended with a laugh. “Besides, this plan doesn’t just impact me,” she rebutted, referring to how the Dregs would be brought into a gang war that arguably was not needed.

Kaz shook his head in frustrated disbelief. He lessened the space between himself and y/n, now only a few millimeters away. “Do you think I care about anyone but you?” Kaz asked, his gloved hands tenderly cupping her face.

Y/n quietly gasped at the physical gesture and the sentiment behind Kaz’s words. She smiled appreciatively at him, their eyes steadily focusing on the others’.

Kaz continued to silently gaze into y/n’s eyes for a moment. He kept his gloved hands on her warm cheeks as long as he could. Once he felt the waters starting to rise in his chest, he slowly lowered them back to his sides. But, Kaz kept his eyes on y/n the whole time.

“This life….” Kaz mumbled to y/n as they stood beside one another behind the fragile wooden banister on the second floor. “I confess sometimes I wonder if others are actually worth fighting for,” he admitted quietly as he looked down at the patrons of the Crow Club. “Obviously it’s not my goal in life, but I honestly wonder… does anyone deserve justice?” He sighed loudly. “But then...,” Kaz shook his head before turning to face y/n. “There's this one thing that always comes to mind and suddenly I'm ready for war.”

Y/n glanced over at Kaz in curiosity. “What's that one thing, Kaz?”

Kaz was slightly reluctant to finish his thought aloud, but eventually he found the strength to do so. He gazed back out at the club below them to ease his nerves. “You,” Kaz answered, blindly grabbing y/n’s hand.

Y/n admired Kaz appreciatively. She smiled shyly and delicately squeezed his hand to thank him for his vulnerable candor.

“That’s why I need to do this,” Kaz said. He gazed over at y/n briefly before looking back out at the sea of patrons. “They all need to know that while you might seem like a risk, a way to get to me,” he said, practically growing at even the notion of such. “-even an attempt at doing so will only end in war,” Kaz promised definitively. He gave y/n a sly grin before squeezing her hand.

Kaz loudly clicked his cane against the wooden slats of the second floor as he walked towards the center of the overhang. He knew his actions would get everyone’s attention. Meaning the only thing he now had to do was use the Kikkers an example of what would happen if someone were to not heed his warning against even thinking of harming y/n. Kaz intended for it to be clear within seconds that Dirtyhands, his Crows, and his Dregs, would all reign hell on not just any idiot who dared to do so, but would also bring war to everyone and everything that idiot valued. Y/n might’ve been a risk to Kaz’s impenetrable indifference towards many actions people would try against him, but harming her was a risk Dirtyhands was going to prove to everyone wasn’t worth the guaranteed consequences that would come from doing so.

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[alltheworldsinmyhead]

ain't no mountain (high enough)

Summary:

There is a wedding on a farm two towns over from Lij. Everybody talks / or, no trauma au

#no trauma AU #everyone is alive AU #Jordie Rietveld Lives #Family Drama #Wedding Fluff #Alternate Universe - 1950s(but very vaguely)#POV Multiple #POV Outsider #Kaz Brekker gets to have a mom #Inej Ghafa gets to be a blushing bride #awkward dinnertime conversations #cottagecore au #everyone is ooc because they are happy and mentally healthy #mentions of human trafficking #Culture Clashes #heirloom jewelry #all comfort no hurt #Happiness because they deserve it

LIJ AND TWO TOWNS OVER

The wedding is to take place on the Rietvelds' farm, two towns over from Lij. The banns are read in church a month before the set date; when the names of the bride and the groom are announced, a collective gasp spreads through the congregation like wind through a wheat field.

Soon enough, a small Suli caravan arrives in horse-drawn wagons, intricately painted in yellows and reds. Their women wear veils on their heads and their children are dressed in all manner of colorful clothes that the quaint Kerch countryside has never seen before. Ilke, the miller’s daughter, falls out of her window in her attempts to get a better look, getting a broken leg for all her efforts (but then again, Karl, the shoemaker says to anyone who would listen, she was never the shiniest apple on a branch, if you know what I mean). They set up a camp by the forest edge, on the border of Rietvelds’ and van Graafs' fields. The children sneak in closer to gawk at them and their parents pretend that they don’t notice it.

It is said that the younger Rietveld boy met his bride in Ketterdam, during his studies at the University, but what the girl was doing there no one knows and the tongues waggle feverishly.

There is, of course, a leading hypothesis, because what else could a Suli girl be doing in a big city, but the voices hush wherever even a strand of hair on Theresa Rietveld’s head shows up. Everyone and their mother knows she is very protective of her younger son and she doesn’t tend to hold her words back whenever she feels his character is judged unfairly (and she feels so fairly often, according to the general opinion of her neighbors. Insufferable woman. But who could blame her for placing all of her hopes in Kazimir, after Jordan– )

Whoever she is and whatever she did back in Ketterdam, there is one thing everyone can agree on when it comes to Miss Inej Ghafa:

She’s so pretty, the little girls sigh and their fathers nod and their mother shake their heads.

The bride-to-be rides in the wagon leading the procession down the dusty country roads, all dressed up with ribbons and paper-mache lanterns and flowers. Sitting underneath the garland of red geraniums, she is as radiant as the sun, a light-yellow veil spilling down her dark hair and a sheer scarf around her shoulders. She doesn’t rouge her cheeks or lips like the bolder local girls do and she doesn’t wear curls. Her beauty is a quiet, intriguing one, not drawing attention but making it hard to pull one’s eyes away once they find her. She watches everything, wide-eyed, and Lij watches her right back.

She meets their stares, openly. Boldly.

************read more on ao3**************

[targaryenluvs]

So hello, I think I placed this request is someone else inbox and it’s so embarrassing. So I hope you're having a good day/night. I was wondering if you would consider the crows × teen! reader. Like the one you have done, because I love that. Maybe she has her first crush and everyone is reaching in their own way. I just really want to see kaz glaring and staring at the boy and is scared him so much. (Protective dad)

-🦢

this is shorter than most since i’m in a rush but enjoy!

Where'd All The Time Go?

kaz brekker x teen!reader, crows x teen!reader, oc x teen!reader

warnings: cursing, yelling, intimidation? (idk if that counts) kissing

You’d tried so hard to hide him.

Elias, or Eli as you called him was amazing. You’d meet him whilst shopping with Nina and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

He was the son of a Pub Owner, but he wanted to be more. His ambition matched yours, so did his personality. The two of you got to talking and ended up conversing for hours. To the point where Jesper had to run around and try to find you which lead to you lecturing him on the fact that you were sixteen and able to handle yourself at night.

On the way home you begged Jesper not to mention it to anyone except Wylan. Wylan would never tell a soul and Wylan would make sure Jesper never let it slip. You had wanted to tell Nina but she would tell Matthias and you weren't sure if he fully understood the concept of a secret relationship and Nina had a particularly loud personality.

So you snuck around, Eli also worked as a Barkeep and would sometimes pick up on information left out in the open by inebriated customers which he'd relay to you.

You were able to sneak him books, his father wanted him focused on running the bar one day but you knew it wasn't what he wanted out of life.

You'd spend the time you usually set aside for leisure time to spend helping Eli study. It was too risky to bring him into the Slat or the Crow Club since you knew you'd run into someone you knew who'd question you for his presence.

Eli's mother knew about the two of you and loved you a lot, you were well-mannered and educated as well as gorgeous. What's not to like? And you loved her too. She always had something to give you, a trinket, a book etc. One of the things you adored?

Her cooking. Gosh it was like being transported to heaven. She herself was half Zemeni and it was always nice to have someone appreciate your culture.

Sometimes you showed up just to talk to her.

When his parents were out and two of you had the place to yourselves you loved to cook together. It helped you imagine a future life together, peaceful and sweet.

But when his dad was in you'd sneak him into your place.

And you'd always been so careful, until today.

You had a few drinks at a local tavern, perhaps a bit more than a few but who was counting?

Eli had gotten himself a secret job at the biggest Library around with the only problem being that it was so close to Pekka Rollins turf. You knew if he found out about Eli he would be used to lure you.

Instead of scaling the walls to your bedroom you thought that walking right inside would be more fitting. "I'm so hungry E." You whined as Eli laughed, "I'll bake you something. Make you some eat."

You giggled, "What in the Saints are you on about?" Eli pushed open the door as he frowned, "Don't mock me, that is a very rude thing to do my love." As you walked in you felt at home, quickly you lead him upstairs as fast as possible, along with a few trips on the stairs.

But your swift escape was foiled when you ran right into Kaz.

"Y/n." He spoke in an angry tone, although anger wasn't new in Kaz's case. "Kaz." You replied in a low, mocking tone. "See now that's mocking babe." You laughed, but Eli wasn't.

"What's wrong?" He laughed drily, "Nothing, just the fact that he's staring at me like he's gonna skin me and maybe shoot me in the head to finish it off." That brought out a smirk from Kaz, "Would you suggest another way to ward off unseemly boys from trying to get with a girl too high above them in every way.

"Aww how nice of you to say so Kazzle. Come along E." You smiled but as you walked Kaz grabbed your wrist before swiftly pulling back.

"You can go upstairs but he cannot. Leave. Now."

"That's not fair! He's my guest and my boyfriend he can do as he please."

"Boyfriend?"

"I mean a friend who just so happens to be a boy. Goodnight!"

"Y/n."

"Yes she's my girlfriend and there's nothing you can do about it. She's a grown woman and not a little kid with a crush, I know who she is. She's not stupid and you know that. Y/n wouldn't risk getting into a relationship if she didn't know the person and if they weren't a good guy. I love her with everything I have. She always pushes me to be my best and half the things I've been to scared of doing she held my hand and led me through it. She taught me so much and I'm forever grateful. She's absolutely gorgeous, intelligent, articulate, well-spoken and overall an incredible woman and I'm forever grateful she chose to be with me and I will always treat her with the upmost respect because she deserves nothing less."

"And E is a good guy. He's sweet, and genuine. He always knows when I'm in a bad mood and he always knows how to cheer me up. He cooks for me when I can't be bothered. He reminds me to clean up, he knows everything about me and I him. No I haven't met his father yet but that's because he's an ass. His mothers an amazing woman and incredibly sweet to me and treats me like I'm her own. And not only is Eli an amazing guy but he's super pretty!" You exhaled and inhaled quickly.

Eli stood with his jaw dropped and eyes bulging. "I- Y/n." You sat down on the stairs with him as he sat next to you with his hands clasped with yours.

Kaz was stunned, and he hadn't been speechless in forever, his fast thinking and wit was one of the main reasons he survived.

Inej and Nina were standing with Kaz, a bit behind him.

"I think I'm going to cry, I wish Matthias would say something like that to me."

Inej smiled, she'd always known you'd attract suitors, you were nothing short of stunning. But the Barrel had no shortage of annoying, immature boys and she was thanking all her Saints you had seemed to find the best.

Kaz looked back at her, Oh how he wished he could say that, express all of his millions of thoughts and praise. But it was too hard, so he looked back at you to see Eli smiling whilst resting your forehead on his.

And so he relented, "Leave the door open halfway and if you try anything I will drag you through the streets attached to a wagon and then let the Crows have a go. It's been a while since we delivered a proper beating."

"Yes sir." Eli nodded, you were surprised his head didn't fall off with how quickly he nodded.

Kaz sat back down at his desk and opened his locked drawer, grabbing one of the old notes you use to leave him, it had a drawing of a flower, your favourite, a Black Dahlia. And he couldn't help but sigh.

Where'd all the time go?

[ruins-and-rewritez]

for the crows: lgbtq+ identities go!!

[Photo ID: Text that reads; Kaz: I don’t I understand why I’d have to explain myself to you or anyone else. If I want to kiss Inej that’s my business not that I want to kiss her not that I don’t want to kiss her. You know what? I’m not answering this, I’ll kiss who I want and if it just so happens to be Inej then that’s merely a coincidence... (He continued to ramble on in the manner for several minutes so I had to cut the response short) ;End Text. Accompanied by a picture of Kaz Brekker (Freddy Carter) Labeled; 17, Despises Labels. End ID]

[Photo ID: Picture of Inej Ghafa (Amita Suman) Labeled; 16, Straight-Adjacent. Accompanied by text that reads; Inej: I’m not really up for a relationship at the moment, but as a general statement I prefer men when considering the future . That’s not to say I wouldn’t consider my other choices if the occasion arose. ; End Text. End ID]

[Photo ID: Text that reads; Jesper: Boys are pretty, girls are pretty, as long as their up for it I’m ready to kiss anyone (muffled off-screen swearing) AND.- and by anyone I mean my one and only boyfriend Wylan I definitely will never try to ever kiss anyone else (nervous laughter) ; End Text. Accompanied by a picture of Jesper Fahey (Kit Young) Labeled; 17 Bi-Disaster. End ID]

[Photo ID: Picture of Wylan Hendricks (Jack Wolfe) Labeled; 16, Baby Gay. Accompanied by text that reads; Wylan: Boys. Definitely. I mean I’ve already got one and have no plans on exchanging him unless he does something really stupid like oh I don’t know...make out with someone who happens to look exactly like me by mistake? Just a thought. End Text. End ID]

[Photo ID: Text that reads; Nina: gender doesn’t really matter all that much to me, everyone has always just been so unique and beautiful to me no matter how they choose to be identified. But if we’re being specific, I prefer great big brutes with absolutely horrible social skills, it’s so fun to tease them into adoring me. ; End Text. Accompanied by a picture of Nina Zenik (Danielle Galligan) Labeled; 17, Pan Empress. End ID]

[Photo ID: Picture of Matthias Helvar (Calahan Skogman) Labeled; 18, Token Straight. Accompanied by text that reads; Matthias: I haven’t really ever given it much thought, but I guess if were to be with someone I would very much like it be someone who would challenge me. Some who would push me to be my best self. Someone unforgettable. The kind of girl you might dream of in your darkest nights.....(trailed off into thought); End Text. End ID]

Ask The Crows your own questions!

[aprill-99]

It’s not that I don’t get why people think Anthony Lockwood is like Kaz Brekker, but can I ask you to consider THIS:

Nikolai Lanstov

Let’s look at the facts…..

1. Smiles all the time? Check. It’s a top detail for both

2. Lying Charmer? Check. Lockwood “lies like a politician”, lives with a guy for a year - that guy never learns what’s in the spare room. Nikolai keeps a whole-ass second identity a secret from a whole-ass country and is actually a politician.

3. *ahem* complicated relationship with parents and siblings? Check

4. Has a supernatural gift but the scariest thing about them is how well they read people and use them? Nikolai wins in the end because he gets what people will do. He uses his mind and that’s why the Darkling gives him the Demon treatment - to take that off the board. Lockwood digs at people and then smoothes it all away again depending on what he wants/needs. They play people for strategy, necessity, and sometimes for fun and that’s brilliant and terrifying

5. Somehow simultaneously has No Money and All the Money? Lockwood has a massive house in Central London, posh manners, signs of Family Money Tm -runs his business from home and has soooooo much mortgage. Nikolai is a king living in a palace - so broke he might legit lose a war because of the No Money

6. Absolute simps over their much more powerful wives? Hell yes and we’re here for it.

Lucy-Zoya parallels?

George-David parallels?

Holly-Genya?

If anything the Crows fit more with Flo……

Who’s with me?????

[undiscovered-horizon]

"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!

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part nineteen

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: 19!! my brain isn't understanding haha hope you enjoy!

series masterlist

Y/N made a sound of disgust, her contempt for the Fjerdan clear, and the Zemeni man next to the inferni stopped fidgeting, his mouth falling slightly ajar. Kaz, however, didn’t seem surprised. If anything, he looked pleased.

“I can give you something better,” said Kaz.

Doubt and suspicion swam in Matthias’ eyes. “There is nothing else I want.”

“I can make you druskelle again.”

“Are you a magician, then? A wej sprite who grants wishes? I’m superstitious, not stupid.”

“You can be both, you know, but that’s hardly the point.” Kaz slipped a gloved hand into his dark coat. “Here,” he said. And gave a piece of paper to the inferni. She brought the paper up to his face for him to read. The document was written in Kerch and Fjerdan. Matthias’ eyes scanned over the paper that had statements of a release due in his favor. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What evidence?” 

Kaz leaned back in his chair. “It seems Nina Zenik has recanted her statements. She will face charges of perjury.”

“Perjury? How long will you serve for that, Zenik?”

“Two months,” she said quietly.

“Two months?” Matthias laughed cruelly, his body twitching as if he’d been poisoned.

The others watched him with some concern. 

“Just how crazy is he?” Jesper asked, fingers drumming on the pearl handles of his precious revolvers. 

Y/N shrugged. “He’s not what I’d call reliable, but he’s all we’ve got apparently.”

Once Matthias got over his laughing fit he cleared his throat. “She can’t be trusted, you know,” he said to Kaz. “Whatever secrets you hope to gain from Bo Yul-Bayur, she’ll turn them over to Ravka.”

Y/N clenched her fists, but before she could say anything Kaz jumped to the defence. “Let me worry about that, Helvar. You do your part, and the secrets of Yul-Bayur and jurda parem will be in the hands of the people best equipped to make sure they stay rumors.”

Y/N eyed Kaz cautiously as she wondered who he planned on handing the drug and chemist over to. There are things that he has kept in the dark and she knew it would come to sneak up on them later if he didn’t bring it to light. 

After a bit more of going back and forth Matthias finally agreed to Kaz’s terms. 

“We’re going to untie you,” said Kaz. “I hope prison hasn’t robbed you of all your manners or good sense.”

Matthias nodded and Y/N pulled out a knife to cut him free of the ropes that binded him. “I believe you know Nina,” Kaz continued. “The lovely girl freeing you is Y/N L/N, our own personal Ravkan soldier and the best in the trade. Jesper Fahey is our sharpshooter, Zemeni-born but try not to hold it against him, and this is Wylan, the best demolitions expert in the Barrel.”

A rag tag group who had taken the world by storm while they helped save it from the darkest of shadows. Now challenged to take on the biggest heist of their lives. None of them entirely prepared for what came next but they all had their motives. Righteous and good-willed or greedy and selfish, they all had one goal and they hoped it’d be strong enough to hold them together.

“Besides, Wylan isn’t just good with the flint and fuss. He’s our insurance.” Kaz spoke while avoiding eye contact with Y/N.

“Against what?” Nina asked.

“Meet Wylan Van Eck,” said Kaz Brekker as the boy’s cheeks flooded crimson. “Jan Van Eck’s son and our guarantee on four million kruge.”

Jesper stared at Wylan. “You’re a Councilman’s kid? I mean that explains everything… Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes had grown soft and filled with hurt. 

Wylan was red-faced and mortified. Nina looked stunned and irritated. The Fjerdan just seemed confused. Kaz appeared utterly pleased with himself. Y/N glared hard at the side of Dirtyhand’s face.

Wylan’s mouth opened and closed, his throat working. “You knew?” he asked Kaz miserably.

Kaz leaned back in his chair, one knee bent, his bad leg stretched out before him. “Why do you think I’ve been keeping you around?”

“I’m good at demo.”

“You’re passable at demo. You’re excellent at hostage.”

That was cruel, but that was Kaz. And the Barrel was a far rougher teacher than Kaz could ever be. At least this explained why Kaz had been coddling Wylan and brought him on an insanely important job.

The plan in Y/N’s head tilted sideways. Wylan was a hostage. Van Eck was paying Kaz for this heist. He lied to her. Not directly, but he withheld the information. 

The bastard continued to make his point of Wylan not really being fit for this line of work. Jesper sat silently with a dazed look in his eyes while Wylan looked like a kicked puppy. Y/N felt uneasy about the whole situation. 

“Since Wylan has seen the Ice Court with his very own eyes,” Kaz spoke, “he can keep you honest, Helvar.”

The Fjerdan scowled furiously, and Wylan looked a little ill.

“Don’t worry,” Nina said. “The glower isn’t lethal.”

Kaz tapped his cane on the polished wood floor. “Take out your pen and proper paper, Wylan. Let’s put Helvar to work.”

Wylan reached into the satchel that sat between the sharpshooter and himself. He pulled out a slender roll of butcher’s paper followed by a metal case that held an expensive-looking pen and ink set. 

“Start talking,” Kaz said to the Fjerdan. “It’s time to pay the rent.”

Matthias directed his furious gaze at Kaz. Definitely a mighty glower. It was almost fun to watch him pit it against Kaz’s sharklike stare.

Finally, the Fjerdan shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “The concentric circles, like the rings of a tree.” The words came slowly, as if speaking each one was causing him pain.

The merchling and Fjerdan went back and forth on describing the Ice Court, each one fact checking and correcting the other. They explained each level of defence and the coordinating colored protical. Where the prison cells were and where they’d most likely find Bo Yul-Bayur.

“Hringkalla is coming up,” Nina said suddenly.

“Be silent,” Matthias snapped.

“Pray, don’t,” said Kaz.

“Hringkalla. It’s the Day of Listening, when the new druskelle are initiated on the White Island.” Y/N spoke up.

Matthias’ knuckles flexed white. “You have no right to speak of those things. They’re holy.”

“They’re facts. The Fjerdan royals throw a huge party with guests from all over the world, and plenty of the entertainment comesstraight from Ketterdam.”

“Entertainment?” Kaz asked.

“Actors, dancers, a Komedie Brute troupe, and the best talent from the pleasure houses of West Stave.” 

“I thought Fjerdans didn’t go in for that sort of thing,” said Jesper.

Nina’s lips quirked. “You’ve never seen Fjerdan soldiers on the Staves?”

“I meant when they’re at home,” Jesper said.

“It’s the one day a year they all stop acting so miserable and actually let themselves have a good time,” Nina replied. “Besides, “only the druskelle live like monks.”

Matthias and the heartrender kept going back and forth, each picking and poking with their words, trying to get a reaction out of each other. Y/N rolled her eyes at the pair in both annoyance and a teasing manner.

“When does this party take place?” Kaz interrupted.

“It’s seasonal,” Nina said, “on the spring equinox.”

“Two weeks from today.” noted Y/N.

Kaz cocked his head to one side, his eyes focused on something in the distance.

“Scheming face,” Jesper whispered to Y/N.

She nodded. “Definitely.”

Kaz inquired about the White Rose sending any delegations. Nina replied, saying she didn’t know anything.

Kaz leaned back. “What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?”

“Knife to the throat?” Y/N asked.

“Gun to the back?” said Jesper.

“Poison in his cup?” suggested Nina.

“You’re all horrible,” said Matthias.

Kaz rolled his eyes. “The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it to where you want it to go.” He continued to explain how Hringkalla will do the job for them. They’ll take advantage of the chaos that is hosting such a large gathering of people. “They can’t be looking everywhere at once.” He started to construct his plan of them sneaking into the prison as criminals. 

“Let me get this straight,” said Jesper. “You want us to let the Fjerdans lock us up in jail. Isn’t that what we’re always trying to avoid?”

“Criminal identities are slippery. It’s one of the perks of being a member of the troublemaking class. They’ll be counting heads at the prison gate, looking at names and crimes, not checking passports or examining embassy seals.”

“Because no one wants to go to pricon,” Jesper said.

Nina rubbed her hands over her wrists, “I don’t want to be locked up in a Fjerdan cell.” Y/N nodded her agreement. 

Kaz flicked his sleeve, and two slender rods of metal appeared between his fingers. They danced over his knuckles then vanished once more. 

“Lockpicks?” Y/N asked.

“You let me take care of the cells,” said Kaz.

“Hit where the mark isn’t looking,” mused the inferni.

“That’s right,” nodded Kaz. “And the Ice Court is like any other mark, one big white pigeon ready for the plucking.”

Anticipation mixed with fear and excitement settled in the room as Y/N looked around at the other crows. 

Matthias folded his huge arms and said, “You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“But you do, Helvar. I want you working on the plan of the Ice Court every minute until we sail. Mo detail is too small or inconsequential. I’ll be checking on you regularly.”

Y/N traced her fingers over the rough sketch Wylan drew out. “It really does look like the rings of a tree.”

“No,” said Kaz. “It looks like a target.”

[writing-havoc]

High

♡ Summary: You come back to the Slat very high, revealing a fear to Kaz he has honestly no idea what to make of

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Shadow and Bone

♡ Pairing(s): Kaz Brekker x Reader, platonic!Crows x reader

♡ Warning(s): Weed, mention of stab wound and gunshot wound

♡ WC: 2k

Honestly just a thinly veiled crackfic of sorts? If that's a way to explain it? Just crows being crows. Kaz might be a tad ooc in this one but I honestly can't tell, lemme know. Please excuse any grammar mistakes and spelling errors! Hope you enjoy <3

The idea comes from ScatterPatter's incorrect quote generator!

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

The Slat was rather empty as of now, but that was normal given the time of day. The Crow Club needed to be well staffed towards the darkening hours and there were other matters to attend to and that needed to be done under the lamp-light of the sun, leaving the usual Crows and a few other stragglers who managed to snag a shift off or a shift later, few even trading shifts once approved by Kaz.

Kaz stood at the top of the stairs, his a bit propped as he bent his knee, shifting his weight to his good one. It didn't do much, it never did, but it still helped. His eyes scanned the very small crowd below, watching Nina make Matthias go red with her usual raunchy jokes and rub against him in a sultry manner. Jesper laughed at the color of red, while Wylan's face mimicked Matthias' exactly. Inej smiled simply, shaking her head.

A table on the other end of the ground floor held the rest of the people, who were playing their own intense game of blackjack betting corn chips and stale pretzels. Every once in a while a loud roar would eminate from that side, sending pretzels upwards as the loser smashed their fist into the table.

Everything was as it should be, yet it still felt out of place.

You were missing. Maybe not 'Missing' missing, but you had told everyone you'd be gone for an hour or two at most. It's been nearly four and Kaz was ready to send a search party any second.

His hands gripped the railing, fingertips just barely able to feel the rough wood through the slits in his gloves. The door felt like it was glued shut under the scrutiny of his eyes.

But it wasn't. You opened the door not even a moment later, stumbling a little as you stepped through the threshold and closed the door with your back, feet stumbling after it.

For a moment Kaz thought that you were stabbed. Gunshot wound, maybe. But he saw a crooked smile on your face and your eyes were squinting, and really there were only a few explanations for that.

He made his way down the steps, cane thunking on every other one all the way down. Nina and Inej spotted you instantly and called you over, and he watched in minor amusement as you took a moment to respond, grin going stupid on your face as you got a good look at them and sauntered over like you've got your sea legs.

They took in your demeanor instantly, Jesper barking out a rush of laughter at your high self and Matthias staring in confusion. Wylan was placid, watching you walk up.

"I see you had a fun couple of hours." Jesper remarked.

"Yeah they did. They can barely stand upright." Nina chuckled.

You gave her a look of mock offense. "I can stand upright!" But your s's sounded more like a shush and he could tell your mouth was moving slower than your brain, body swaying to one side before you caught yourself and swayed the other way.

"Sure, darling." Nina chuckled.

"What's wrong with them?" Matthias asked

Jesper scoffed. "Oh come on, surely they've got some kind of weed up in Fjerda?"

"They consumed weeds?" Matthias looked you up and down. "That can't be healthy with Ketterdam's waters."

Nina said something in Fjerdan, a translation, and suddenly Matthias' face was one of understanding. "That would explain it."

Wylan smiled. "You couldn't tell by the way they're acting?"

"Ketterdam is a confusing place. Your local activities are not ones I'm accustomed to yet." Matthias huffed. "Surely wouldn't think anybody foolish enough to smoke something like that this late in this city of all places."

"Foolish as it may be," Kaz piped up, "it's standard practice in Kerch. Used both recreationally and medically. The only problem is whether it's laced or not."

You giggled beside him. "It wasn't."

"Obviously." He mumbled, trying his best to keep his expression collected. But you were dancing to a song in your head and couldn't even keep your eyes open and it was making his heart swell.

Inej walked on over, steadying you with a smile. You frowned, being unable to sway to your inner music, but let it go. Instead, you bumped your head, knuckles tapping the rhythm on the table.

"I'm gonna need about four rolls of whatever you smoked tonight." Jesper leaned over and pushed you with two fingers, watching as you swayed back and forth like a buoy when he removed his hand.

Nina chuckled. "Me too, honestly. Y/n, honey, who's your supplier?" Her tone was joking, but curious.

They all watched as you stopped listening to the music in your head, eyes now looking at everyone at the table. You looked lost, almost.

Your eyes landed on Kaz, and he could have sworn his heart lept into his throat when you gave him the softest of smiles and bunted your forehead into the thickest part of his clothing. You pulled back immediately, going back to your internal music.

But it lept in a good way. There was still the micro moment of fear that became instinctual when he was touched, but it ebbed away after a moment of two. He could still feel the pressure of your head pushing into his clothing, pushing into his skin, but it's not nearly as bad as usual.

Finally, when you looked just about ready to sit on the floor after an hour of conversation from the rest of the group, Kaz decided it was time to get you to bed, away from the now incoming groups of people. "C'mon. Let's get you upstairs."

"I don't wanna be a fish." You pouted. He tugged you along, hooking the beak of his cane on your waist. You trudged along, making a very minimal effort to stop him.

"You aren't going to be a fish." He was distinctly aware of how fond he sounded and cursed the Saints Inej prays to.

"No fish?"

"No fish." To be completely honest he's got no idea what you're talking about and how you expect to be turned into a fish. But if he had to guess, you mean you don't want a bath, which he usually makes you take after a little too much to drink (with obvious precautions so that you don't drown yourself). He'd called you a fish once before when you refused to get out of the tub. It must have stuck and resurfaced.

"You're not drunk. So you're not getting a bath." He took the steps with you, making sure that you didn't fall and tumble down the slightly creaky boards. He could hear the teasing from behind him, but didn't care.

You stared at him, eyes cracking open. He could see the whitish parts of your eyes were now tainted pink, pupils blown wide.

He knew you must be thinking right now. That's the part he liked between drunk and high individuals. When you're high you can still think, thoughts at least somewhat coherent with basic morality and problem solving skills slightly intact. Drunk, not so much. He liked seeing the cogs turn in your head as he pushed you up one more stair after the other.

"Waffles." Was all you said after all that steam coming out of your ears.

"I will have waffles brought up soon. We need to get you on soft ground." He brought his fingers up to the small of your back, watching as it arched away from his slowly approaching fingers, your legs picking up the pace.

"Thank you, love." You gave a smile, eyes closed. Though he's not sure whether that was intentional or just because you couldn't keep them open.

A wolf whistle sounded behind him.

"Stop reading my heart, Zenik." He called over his shoulder, cursing the organ in question under his breath. You giggled, Nina giving another one.

The moment you finally made it to his office he closed the door, making swift work to open the door leading to his bedroom.

It's not that he thinks you'll fall over. It's moreso that he knows you'll do anything to stop yourself from doing so, even if it means taking out all of your surroundings and looking like a complete idiot while flailing for a solid handhold. He'd rather not have his office wrecked in the span of two minutes.

Once he moved the covers of his bed to one side, he returned for you, and nearly had a heart attack when he realized you weren't where he left you.

'You're literally inebriated,' he thought. 'How could you have been so silent and so fast under my radar?'

It took not a moment of looking around to find you at his desk, slumped on his chair with your head resting on your crossed arms, upper body leaning onto the flat surface more than you probably should.

"Come, love." He called, walking over to you. "Your bed is ready."

"'At's your bed." You mumbled.

"You use it more than I do. It's yours just as much as it's mine." He steeled himself, taking your hands and pulling you up.

You made quick work to follow, hands still in his gloved ones as he herded you toward the bed. Once you sat down, he bent down and untied your shoes, slipping them off your feet and placing them at the foot where you nearly never tredded.

"Kaz." You called. He looked up in an instant.

"Yeah?"

"I just thought of something really scary."

Your honesty was both chilling and worth admiring. "What'd you think about?"

As you talked, he stood up. "If I ever wake up as my favorite food."

He couldn't help the way his eyebrows crinkled and his lips arched up in a smile. "Elaborate, perhaps?"

"Because I'd eat myself."

He paused. "You'd eat yourself?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Like... no hesitation. I'd look down and just start digging in. I think that would be scary." You were silent for a moment, yet your hands were stilled midair like you were about to say something else. But you didn't. You just nodded again and stopped talking, very confident in yourself and the answer you gave.

"Lucky for you," he took your jacket off, "you won't be waking up as anything of the sort."

"Are you sure?" The fear in your voice was surprisingly palpable.

"I'm sure." He hung your jacket on a metal ring on the inside of the door.

"You promise?"

He turned around to you, seeing just how frightened you were by this concept. He walked up to you calmly and surely, standing in front of you with a face that read confident and not confusion like he felt internally.

"I promise." He put his glove to your forehead and kissed the back of it. "I'm sure you will have the best sleep of your life."

You were thoughtful for a moment, a slight blush on your cheeks and crawling through the shell of your ear. Once you were absolutely sure, you nodded and let yourself fall to the mattress in a very similar fashion to a sack of potatoes.

Kaz barely had time to get you to pull your legs up and under the covers before you were out like a light, soft snores filling the small room.

He sighed heavily.

He really loved you, there was no question in that... but what the fuck is he supposed to do with this? Eating yourself should you wake up as your favorite food? This couldn't be a genuine fear, he had to convince himself of that.

It was a thought he would carry around constantly for at least the next few weeks, he was sure of it.

When he had asked you about in the morning, well rested just like he expected, you just shuddered and walked away.

Kaz doesn't want to know anymore.