#no he uses it to distance himself from his emotions for inej

[barrel-crow-n]

Kaz's petnames for his crows:

Inej: Darling Inej treasure of my heart

Jesper: Jes

Nina: Dear/Love/Darling etc.

Wylan: Merchling

Matthias: Big Fjerdan

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x male! Reader - Infinite

A/n: I think I kinda trauma dumped onto this fic a little so whoops-

Request (by anon): Hii! I found your blog not long ago and I LOVE YOUR WRITING AHHHH 🫶🫶

I was wondering if you could write a gn or male shadow summoner!reader x Kaz Brekker where they're Darklings kid but ran away due to him being a bad father. The reader lived in Ketterdam for quite some time now and met Kaz in his early days there. They trust eachother and know alot about other but reader hides who his father is. then one day reader has a worse day remembering all the good – and bad – memories with The Darkling and in The Small Palace and is overwhelmed, so he helps reader and that's how he finds out about why they ran away and all, but Kaz understands and doesn't push the reader away and it just brings them closer??

Sort of a hurt/comfort. If you won't write it that's fine, I'd just really wanna see you do this! (￣ω￣)

Warnings: child abuse, trauma (10X but not in the way you think), the darkling, death, canon? we don't know her, there is a bit of inej slander but it's a trauma reponse and gets fixed later on in the fic, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The 3 P's:

[pov: 3rd person] [pronouns used: he/him] [pairings: (past! parental!) darkling x reader, (romantic!) kaz x reader, (platonic! mentioned!) kaz x inej]

Finite.

That's what would happen, if he did something wrong, or truly let him in. Kaz could only see so deep into him before he would stop him, send him away or make it seem like everything was okay.

His shaking hands gripped the sink as tears ran down his face.

How could he do that to him? How could Kaz chose Inej, over himself when he knew, he knew that he was a shadow summoner, that if he was found out he would be killed, or worse. Taken back to the little palace.

He couldn't, he can't, he-

He would never go back.

But Kaz had made him go back, on a job, to get that stupid sun summoner, then he chose Inej over him, by asking if she was okay. He never asked, he never looked, he just had to make sure that his little Wraith was alive. His greatest investment.

A scream tore through his throat and shadows were ripped from him as the cut went around the room.

How could he. He was a fool, he trusted him, why couldn't he-

Why couldn't he just care?

Though, he doesn't care for him, he tells himself over and over again, he doesn't care for Kaz Brekker, not when they were children and certainly not now. He can't care, because love can't be given that easily, he has to work for it and he has certainly not worked, or given Kaz enough.

His love would always be restricted.

The sound of a cane coming into contact with the broken in floor boards made him laugh, it was a mean sound, it was cruel and broken but so right.

He sounded like him.

That didn't matter, just like how Kaz was nothing.

A hand was placed beside his, and his breath caught in his throat, he couldn't do this, because as soon as this was over Kaz wouldn't even look his way. He wouldn't ask if he was okay, he wouldn't ask how he was holding up, he wouldn't be of value to him.

Abruptly he pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, his shadows dancing in the distance, mocking him. Another reminder of what he cannot escape.

"I shouldn't have brought you on that job."

Something in him snaps at those words, no he never wanted to go, but he was enough- no he deserved to go and get that money. He didn't need Kaz to tell him things he couldn't change, he needed Kaz to tell him things he could. Like his love wasn't limited, please say it isn't.

It is though, isn't it? All things have limits.

Scoffing, he turns around to face him and he's not prepared for the emotion, the boy with the cane presents him with.

Sorrow, incredible sorrow.

Has he seen how he's been spiraling? Is all he truly feels is pity?

He doesn't want Kaz's pity, he didn't when he handpicked him off the streets only weeks after Jordie had died. He doesn't need any more pity, he got lots of it from certain members of the little palace, from Baghra.

"Leave me alone Kaz. I don't want to talk to you."

His words are a juxtaposition to what he's really feeling, it's the irony in it all. The greatest joke of all time, because he does want Kaz to talk to him, and he doesn't want Kaz to leave him alone. To leave him, to find someone better, someone more worth his time.

"No." Kaz speaks softly. "I saw how you reacted when you saw the darkling that day, I knew that you were a shadow summoner and I was a fool to think that man could be a good father."

He blinks at Brekker, once, twice, three times, before everything releases.

Oh.

The shadows in the distance stop dancing, as his shoulders fall down, so do his shadows. They stop dancing, then they fall, only to be left with the occasionally swirl now that his emotions aren't everywhere at once. Now that he understands Kaz's intentions, now that he's slowly realizing Kaz understands him.

"The darkling isn't my biological father." Is where he starts, and simultaneously's pauses to see if he would stop him. Walk out at the mere mention of his sob story. He doesn't.

"But my parents left me the moment they found out I was a shadow summoner, then he took me."

He squeezed his eyes shut, he didn't remember much about his biological parents, but he remembers his mother's smile, and his father's hands. Often he wonders what would have happened if they had stayed, if they would have loved a monster child enough so he could love them back. Enough so he wouldn't become one later, or that one would never find him. The world isn't fair though, and it is made up of monsters. He just so happened to be raised by one, and perhaps even became one.

It's feasibly disturbing that he doesn't back away and retch at the thought.

"I don't know if he wasn't ever not, bad, if he was I don't remember him as such. He only treated me cruelly, as a-"

Mirror to himself.

Was that all he was? A mirror to the terrible black heretic? A mirror to the monster who killed, to try and make things better? Was he destined to become him?

Then, a hand without the familiar leather clasps that enclosed them, brush against his face and his eyes shot open.

It's Kaz, it's always been Kaz.

"You are not their mistake, you are not him." He whispers in his ear. "You valued and safe."

He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to tell Kaz the true extent of everything the black heretic put him through, if he'll ever even tell him why he's like this. So dependent, but pushing away the moment they connect.

But he knows he can't be a reflection of the darkling, because he would still be at the little palace then. He would still be training with that man he used to call his father, he would have not run away to meet his faithful one in Ketterdam.

They were both broken, and bruised, and hurt beyond what anyone could ever comprehend. For now though, they have each other, and he has to remind himself that it makes it all worth it. That it's enough.

Kaz lets his hand slide but he understands, he always will.

Kaz may ask his Wraith if she's okay because she's a valuable investment, his friend. However Kaz will come back to him after, and they'll be the one brushing hands, skin to skin. Kaz will be the one to show him his inside, without his armor, and he'll desperately try to do the same.

Love can come easy, people can be redeemed if the person who's forgiving them so wishes it. He's done terrible things under the command of a man he called his father, things he can never take back. Lives he can never get back.

His father would get no redemption, but he would make sure that shadow summoners would, that he would not be just a reflection of his father.

He does that by staying in Ketterdam, staying with Kaz.

"Thank you." He murmurs back to the bastard.

Kaz just gives him the barest of smiles. "Always."

Love isn't finite, love is infinite.

Words 1236

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

[heathsbitch]

IN TOO DEEP - k.b

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Inej slander (I love her so this was mildly tricky to write), poor proof reading (yes I am still warning you about this).

Word Count: 1549

Voices crowded over voices, nothing coherent. The Crows shouted over each other, discussing the various elements of our next heist while our ‘boss’ sat silent, his eyebrow arched, his lips pressed in a thin line. I watched him quietly, not caring to join the debate, instead searching Kaz’s face. For what, I wasn’t sure. Some hint of humanity, some hint of feeling behind those cold eyes of his.

His silence was broken not long after as he stood from his chair with a low grunt, his cane tapped on the floor twice to signify he wanted peace between everyone. “Inej will do it.” More uproar. They were debating on who got the most responsibility for the next job, everyone wanted it but, of course, Inej would be the one to receive the pleasure of being Kaz’s right hand man. As per fucking usual.

I saw the way he looked at her, the way his eyes would graze down her form as if he were analysing her, searching her for secrets as a thief searches a safe. That’s how he saw her, something to be examined. She merely saw him as a mystery, a puzzle, something to solve, something to fix.

Jealousy was a strong word and I loathed using it, especially in relation to the Bastard of the Barrel himself. Though one couldn’t deny it made me twitch in my seat, whenever he would favour Inej. For anything. Which happened to be almost every job, no matter how big, no matter how small, no matter the prize or risk. It was always Inej, and I knew it always would be. He saw her as different, he held trust for her that wasn’t replicated in the other Crows, much less myself. Yes, I envied her, and I hated myself for it.

The emotion I held for Inej wasn’t hatred, in fact I valued her as a close confidant. I just wish Kaz would view me in the same light as her, wish his intense glare bore into my eyes, scanned me with every fibre of his being. Trusted me with his darkest secrets. Allowed me to peek behind the wall he had built so high after all these years.

Though I knew this would never come to pass. I felt like a child chasing a hapless dream. I felt pathetic. How could I hold Inej in such high esteem then complain when Kaz reflects such feelings? How could I even call her a friend if I felt such a way about her relations with him? My skin crawled with the feeling of sin, and I had the sudden urge to scrub my body clean. As if that would clear the thoughts plaguing my head.

It had been days since that meeting, weeks perhaps, I had lost track. A distance had grown between me and the man I deemed my ‘boss’, the man that lurked in my dreams every night, the man I wish I was allowed to love, the man whose heart I wish belonged to me. I was in too deep, and I had thought pulling away from him would be for the better. Perhaps if I didn’t see him, my mind would be less focused on him. But that was far from the case. He lurked in every shadowed corner of my thoughts, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. It was as if he was mocking me, taunting me that I couldn’t be rid of him.

That was until I met Caspar. We had instantly connected; I had fallen into his honey eyes and had never tried to escape. His heart was made of gold, a smile never far from his lips. Though my head couldn’t help but compare to the man I was running from. I referred to Caspar as ‘Cas’ for short, and it was only when I had spoken it aloud that I had realised what I’d done. It was as if Kaz was vicariously living through the man who had snuck his way into my life. They were completely different people, yet somehow similar. But perhaps this was my brain’s way of torture, degrading me, beating me for my silly wishes. The feelings I held towards Caspar felt foreign, and after some time I knew they would never change to replicate the ones I had for Dirtyhands himself. But maybe it was just the jealousy warping my vision on him. Maybe I was playing a masochistic trick on myself, only wanting what I knew I couldn’t have.

I had tried to keep the men separate in the fear that if they met, Kaz would pummel Caspar into the ground. For no good reason. But Cas shrunk in moments of conflict, he would almost try to disappear into himself, as if he wanted to the ground to open him up and swallow him whole. One look from Kaz and he would simply cease to exist. And I had succeeded so far, neither men had crossed paths to my knowledge. At least, Caspar was still alive and unscathed.

After weeks of avoidance, I knew seeing Kaz again was inevitable. I was still a part of the dregs, and I was a Crow. I would have to face his scrutinising gaze one day. I had just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. He had scheduled another meeting and I had rushed to his office to get there on time, cutting my pleasant evening with Cas short. Time had passed so fast and before I knew it, I was bursting through the doors to the Crow Club at least twenty minutes late.

When I arrived at Kaz’s office, I feared I had missed the meeting altogether, as he was the only person in the room. He sat at his desk, his cane between his legs, gloved hands clasped over the head. And his face...anger plastered clean across it. My heart rate rose in my chest, and I was scared of what was about to come. I decided to bite the bullet and speak first, since the bastard’s stubbornness was clearly attributing to the awkwardness blanketing the room. “Did I miss the meeting?”

“Casper?” His hissed, my lover’s name emphasised, poison laced on his tongue. One word was all it took to break me down, to destroy any scrap of confidence I had gathered. Though I wasn’t sure why. Surely he wouldn’t have a problem with me having a partner? He never minded Nina and Matthias, or Wylan and Jesper. But perhaps they weren’t a problem because all parties involved were Crows. Caspar was the farthest thing you could get from one of us, it was almost laughable. The man was practically carved from a cloud, the human embodiment of sunshine. His constant optimism was slightly irritating, though my irritation was overruled by his sheer cuteness.

My eyes studied the man in front of me, and what I saw was the pure embodiment of hell. Stormy stare inspected me, the clutch of his hands on his cane growing ever tighter by the second. I searched his face looking for something, anything that would tell me what was going on in his head. Upon inspection, I realized I recognised the gaze that I was faced with, I was all too familiar with that fiery look in his eyes, for my own eyes bore it every day.

Jealousy.

Kaz Brekker, jealous of the sunshine boy of the barrel. A chuckle almost escaped my lips as I realised. How could a man so powerful be jealous of a man with nothing but a wide smile and curly hair? There was nothing Caspar had that Kaz couldn’t acquire with the snap of his gloved fingers.

Then true realisation hit me.

“You’re mine, Y/N. Not his,” Kaz told me, his icy eyes flickering from the head of his cane to my face.

It was me. He was jealous because Caspar had me, and Kaz didn’t. But what about Inej?

“Don’t say it.” The man before me spoke. He had noticed the shift in my own eyes as I connected the dots. “I thought you liked Inej.” My voice was barely above a whisper, though I hadn’t intended for him to hear me. “What was that?”

“I thought you liked Inej.” I said louder, shock clearly laced in my voice as I fully took in Kaz. His eyebrows were furrowed, confused at what I had said. “It’s always been you.” A crimson tint had begun to creep onto his pale cheeks, as if he couldn’t believe the words that were slipping out of his own mouth. His walls were breaking down, and it was obvious he didn’t enjoy it.

It’s always been you.

“But the jobs...you always chose her.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“The way you look at her…”

“She’s my spider, nothing more. She’s a valuable asset to the dregs but you,” He paused as he stood from his desk, his steps nearing closer to me. Kaz stopped before me, towered over me. He raised his hand as if to caress my cheek, but the touch never came. He mimicked the movement without the contact. But I knew he was battling his own demons, and so I didn’t mind. “You’re special. You’re mine, and she isn’t.”

You can find my other Kaz works in my Masterlist.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Bet On It - Kaz Brekker

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Bet On It

Request - Can I request a Kaz Brekker imagine where the reader is a Crow and she and Kaz love each other but she isn’t certain of his feelings until the night she comes back to the Slat after a mission for Kaz to find that Kaz took care to protect and look after a merchant’s preteen son when the merchant’s son came to the Crow Club looking for her after he was attacked because Kaz knows she's like a big sister to the merchant’s son since his parents neglect him? Thank you in advance!

Hey! I hope this is what you were looking for, I really liked this idea, thank you for the request.

@ofrosesandteacups

---

You were headed back towards the Slat after finishing a job Kaz had sent you on. You complained, but begrudgingly accepted. Kaz had been acting weird around you recently, he seemed to be distancing himself, and you hated it. You’d never admit it to anyone else, but you really cared about him. Apparently it was pretty obvious, considering Jesper would nonstop tease you about it and try to embarrass you around Kaz.

He’d say something like, “What? I’m just increasing your odds with him. I’d even bet on it that he likes you too.”

You weren’t so sure, though. Kaz had never been an affectionate person, but you’d catch him staring sometimes, or you’d suddenly have something lying on your bed you complained to Inej about needing to get. You knew it was Kaz, and you knew it was his way of showing that he cared about his Crows. Still though, you were unsure about how he really felt about you.

Shaking it off, you headed into the Slat, making your way towards your room, when Jesper stopped you.

“That kid is here again, he came in here pretty banged up, I sent him to your room because I thought you were here.”

He was talking about a merchant’s son, who had never told you his name. You deemed him Bub, something you called Wylan a lot sarcastically when he first joined. He reminded you a lot of Wylan, actually. Young, with a shitty father, always seeming to get himself in some sort of trouble. It would be annoying if he wasn’t a nice kid to be around. He couldn’t have been older than 13 or so, and you couldn’t imagine why his father would let him walk around the Barrel in nice clothes like that, he’s bound to get jumped.

“Oh, shit, ok, can you tell Kaz I’m back and that it went fine? I gotta go check on the kid.” You began making your way up the stairs, when Jesper caught your wrist.

“Actually, Kaz is up there right now. I saw him slip into your office, he said something about not letting the kid bleed all over his floors. Go on, go see your boyfriend, check on your kid. Also, I told you I was betting on it.”

“Shut up, Jesper,” you had said, but you were grinning to yourself, making your way up the stairs. You walked into your room to see Kaz on the edge of your bed, bad leg resting up on it, and the kid sitting in the chair across from him, ice pressed to his temple, random unused bandages on the table next to him. You would have to put those on for him, knowing Kaz wouldn’t have been able to. You glanced thankfully at Kaz, before making your way to the kid.

“Hey Bub, what happened? I’m sorry I wasn’t here, I had to go do a few things.” You did your best to sound comforting and inviting, a tone Kaz wasn’t used to hearing from you. You missed how Kaz’s eyes softened watching you with the kid, a look of uncomfortableness being replaced with adoration.

“Got jumped...tried to fight back, got my ass handed to me.” He said sheepishly as you began wiping away some of the blood and grime, cleaning him up. Kaz darkly chuckled at that.

“That’s the spirit, kid. I assume you’ve got this from here, Y/N?” You nodded, and Kaz stood, heading out the door to his room. Your eyes lingered towards the door, when the kid spoke up.

“He likes you, you know. He didn’t say much, but he told me about where you were, why you were gone. I don’t think he realized it, but he would get this look in his eye every time he said your name. Like he was picturing you for the first time, remembering your face. It was cute, but I won’t lie, I was very weirded out. I didn’t think he could feel any other emotion besides rage and annoyance.”

Your face heated up, a smile making its way onto your face. “Stop it. Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll make up a room for you, ok? You’re not going back home tonight, not without one of us taking you, and I don’t think any of us are up to walking through Dime Lion turf this late at night.

You cleaned up his face, bandaged what you could, scanning his body for any visible injury, and then brought him to the spare room. “Go ahead and wash up, relax, I’ll bring up some of Jesper’s old clothes and some food later.”

You closed the door behind you, now standing in the middle of the hallway. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on Kaz’s door.

“Come in.” Sighing, you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. He hadn’t glanced up from his papers yet.

“You took him in. You’ve never even acknowledged his presence, and you actually took the time to make sure he was ok? Jesper’s here, he could have taken over, he likes the kid. Why did you? Not that I’m complaining, I really appreciate it, but why?”

He had glanced up now, staring at your position in front of his desk, twiddling with your thumbs. He stared a minute, trying to find the right thing to say. It was now or never.

“I know how much he means to you...and that means something to me.” He finally spit out.

A small smile made its way to your lips. Kaz’s eyes lit up, and you knew in that moment exactly why he took the kid in, why he was acting the way he was recently around you. You reached over and grabbed his cane, watching his eyes widen with uncertainty. You tapped the end to his ankle, something he often did to you as a sign of appreciation. A small blush appeared on his cheeks, his eyes no longer meeting yours. You seemed to be the only one that could bring out such a boyish reaction in him.

“Thank you, Kaz.” He only nodded, a light sparkle in his eye.

You grinned again, and made your way out of his room to check up on the kid. Jesper was in the hallway, a smirk on his face.

“I told you so. I even bet on it.”

---

Thank you so much for the request, I really liked this one. Feel free to leave any requests for any other characters or scenarios, and thank you for the support! Also, a new chapter of Ineffable will be up soon, and both of these will be on my masterlist as well as my Wattpad.

[aneiria-writes]

Day 6 prompt: Hypothermia

By the time they dragged Inej into one of Kaz’s safehouses, she was shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattering and her lips blue.

‘Inej.’ Her name was harsh in Kaz’s mouth, but Jesper knew well enough by now that was a sign he was shoring up his pain and worry. ‘Inej, talk to us.’

She turned unfocused eyes to Kaz. ‘’m tired,’ she mumbled, stumbling over her own feet. Jesper shared a concerned glance with Kaz. 

Inej never stumbled.

‘Well, sweetheart,’ Jesper said, guiding Inej gently towards the rickety bed shoved against the far wall. ‘I’m afraid you can’t go to sleep just yet.’

She was freezing beneath his touch, her clothes soaking, her hair wet, her skin clammy and cold. Jesper looked back to Kaz. ‘Any towels in here? Spare clothes? Anything we can dry her with?’

Kaz gave a sharp nod and turned to search through the dusty chest of drawers in the corner. Luckily this safehouse was an actual house, no matter if it was rundown, rather than a warehouse.

While Kaz searched, Jesper began undressing Inej, gently peeling the soaking clothing from her body. He talked to her as he worked, about any nonsense that popped into his head, asking questions to encourage her to talk. She replied dreamily, slurring her words, her limbs deadweight as Jesper pulled her arms and legs through items of clothing.

When Kaz turned back around, a threadbare towel in his hands, Inej was standing beside the bed, shivering in just her linen shorts and breast bindings. Wordlessly, Kaz handed the towel to Jesper. It was old, but clean, and that in itself was more than Jesper had hoped for.

‘Inej, sweetheart,’ Jesper said, waiting until Inej’s dark, dazed eyes met him before continuing. ‘I need to get you dry and warm, okay? I’m going to undress you completely now.’

Inej nodded slowly, and Jesper let out a breath of relief. It’s not like the three of them hadn’t all seen each other in different states of undress, but with Inej (and Kaz) it always depended on whether they were having a good day, or how physical they wanted to be.

Jesper started to unwrap Inej’s bindings, and glanced back at Kaz. He was standing very straight, his jaw set, his hands clasped protectively on the head of his cane. But, Jesper could see the tension in his gaze as her looked at Inej, and was willing to bet all his kruge that there was a maelstrom of emotion battling inside Kaz right now.

Jesper pulled Inej’s bindings free and spoke again. ‘Kaz, darling?’ Kaz blinked and refocused on Jesper. Jesper braced himself, knowing that what he needed from his partner was not going to go down well. ‘I need you to undress too, and get into the bed.’

Sure enough, Kaz’s eyebrows drew together in a scowl. ‘What on earth are you on about, Fahey?’

Ah good, the old surname only distancing trick.

‘Inej has hypothermia, Kaz. We need to warm her back up, and the best way is by sharing body heat.’

Kaz looked back to Inej in a panic. She was standing docile and sleepy, watching Kaz with a dreamy look on her face. Jesper helped her out of her linen shorts, and started to gently dry her off with the scratchy towel.

‘Why can’t you—’ Kaz started, his voice tight, and Jesper didn’t wait for him to finish speaking.

‘I will as well. She’ll warm up faster with both of us. Kaz, you know I wouldn’t ask this of you unless it was absolutely necessary.’

Kaz looked back at Inej, and over to the bed in the corner. ‘Fine,’ he muttered, and limped over.

Jesper focused on drying off Inej, trying to keep his mind focused on saving their girlfriend, and not at sneaking peaks of his very hot boyfriend stripping off in his eye-line.

Finally, Inej was dry, and as Kaz climbed gingerly beneath the moth-eaten covers on the bed, Jesper puzzled over Inej’s hair. He knew from experience her hair would take hours to dry, and in the end he just wrapped up her plait in the towel, keeping it from touching her skin and making her colder.

‘Kaz, you ready?’

Kaz just grunted an affirmation, and Jesper knew he couldn’t hope for much more right now. He gently steered Inej over to the bed.

‘She dry, she’s warm,’ he said, easily, as if it was information of no relevance. ‘And it’s Inej. You’re safe with her.’

Kaz didn’t reply, but Jesper hoped — knew, really — that his words had helped a little. He helped Inej sit on the edge of the mattress. ‘Inej, we’re going to get you into bed, to warm you up, okay? Kaz is already in there, he’s going to keep you safe. You’re safe, Inej, do you understand?’ She didn’t answer, and she was still shivering violently. Jesper decided it was more important to keep her physically safe, at the moment. ‘Okay, let’s get you warmed up, sweetheart.’

Jesper helped Inej get into bed properly, and Kaz didn’t hesitate when he reached for her, pulled her trembling body back into his. Jesper’s heart swelled with pride at Kaz’s bravery, but he didn’t linger on it. Instead he hurriedly lit a fire in the small wood-burner, then unceremoniously pulled his own clothes off, until he was naked and shivering a little himself against the chill in the slowly-heating room.

He climbed into bed himself. Inej and Kaz were both on their sides facing him, Kaz’s body cradling Inej’s. Inej’s eyes were closed, but Kaz’s eyes, beetle-black and bright, watched Jesper in the gloom.

‘You all right, love?’ Jesper asked gently, and Kaz gave a short nod. A second later he lifted the hand that was settled on Inej’s stomach, inviting Jesper’s touch. Jesper smiled at him, and shuffled closer, taking Kaz’s hand and snuggling up to Inej so they were face to face.

Inej was already a little warmer than she had been a few minutes ago, and she gave a happy little sigh, tucking her face into Jesper’s chest, her body relaxing in their arms. With a rush of relief, Jesper knew that, with him and Kaz warming her up, Inej was going to be fine.

In any other circumstance, this scenario would be the height of Jesper’s fantasies: Kaz and Inej, naked in bed with him, inviting his touch and his presence.

But although Jesper gave off the appearance of impatience and spontaneity, there were some things he was more than willing to wait for.

For Kaz and Inej, Jesper would wait forever if needed, and gladly.

Look ok, after yesterday I figured you all deserved a little treat 😘

[persephones-wren]

Could you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader and Kaz are more than friends but not lovers and the reader is a Crow and therefore, can handle things for herself so she doesn't tell Kaz when a friend's ex is threatening her but Kaz ultimately finds out when the ex comes to the Crow Club and Kaz handles it since as much as he knows she capable, he is still protective of her and it leads to them finally becoming official?

Protective (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

I'm sorry about the ending, I couldn't find a great way to finish it- but maybe I'll fix that when I can think of something. Besides that, I hope you like it! :)

Warnings: depicted abuse, mentions of sedatives, misogynistic language (please let me know if there's any more)

Genre: not fluff

Word Count: 2705

You had a confusing relationship with Kaz.

It was an odd “more than friends, less than dating” relationship. It made sense, considering in the Barrel, women were more property than anything else. Besides, leverage was a thing everyone wanted on Kaz, even his closest allies. He wasn’t going to put himself in a position that made him anyone’s puppet. You didn’t exactly need him to declare you untouchable, anyway; you were usually more than okay with skirmishing with the Dime Lions and others that happened to be in your way.

You had never expected him to help you handle things that you could do alone.

It had been one of your wealthier friends, who helped get you out of the Menagerie. She had dated Zachariah Alix, a man with power and influence. She had usually dealt with his off-putting advances and abuse, but even you, who couldn’t see her often, could tell she wasn’t happy.

“Break up with him, then.” Your voice echoed in her private chambers as she sighed, multiple emotions running through her expression.

“Y/N, I just, I can’t. We’re already supposed to be married soon. Criminals in the Barrel are lucky in the way that you’re allowed to love who you please,” and damn your head for immediately thinking Kaz, “but merchers, well, it’s not that simple.”

“You callin’ me a criminal?”

“Yes,” she muttered, and you laughed, “but that’s not the point.”

“Are your parents forcing you to marry him?”

“Not exactly, but there’s going to be a lot more pressure if I break up with him.”

“Alright, well...from the list of merchers we’ve stolen from-'' she shot you a look, “sorry, sorry. It’s true though. I’m sure there’s someone on the list that’s for you.”

“I’ve got someone in mind already.”

“Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it? Break up with him and get with the other guy. No parental pressure. Why do you need my advice, then? I get caught here and I’m as good as dead.”

“Okay, okay! It’s not parental pressure,” she lowered her voice, guilt painted across her face. “He’s going to stalk me if we break up. He might kill me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Alright,” you mulled it over. “That’s different. What can I do for you, then?”

“Can you be there when we break up? Moral support? And perhaps, well...if it wouldn’t trouble you, maybe do a little something to get him to leave me alone.”

“Like beat him up. It won’t trouble me,” you had answered. “Sure, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” she sighed in relief. “You’re the best, Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

…

“I don’t think we should continue on like this.”

There was a tension-filled silence, before Alix spoke again. “Why not, sweetheart?” He advanced towards her, and you had to prevent yourself from physically cringing. You were mostly moral support, and there to defend your friend if she got into deep shit, but, well...hopefully it wouldn’t come to revealing yourself.

“You- get off of me,” she pushed him away harshly. “You don’t get to talk me into forgiving you again. You are a child. You hit me and scream and throw tantrums. I want to be with someone who loves me, not someone who treats me like his mother. So that’s it. Get out of my house. We’re breaking up.”

There was another silence, before he spoke up again. “You little bitch,” he snarled, and grabbed at her dress, “you think you can just break up with me? No one’s ever going to be there for you. I’ll kill you and blame it on some Barrel thug. Check yourself, you’d be nobody without me.”

His hand closed in on her neck, and she looked to you, panicked. You put a finger to your lips before you snuck behind him, flicking off the safety and putting the pistol to his head.

He froze.

“Drop her.”

He did, and she slid down against the wall, tears streaming down her face. You had never intended to let it get that far, and it hurt your heart- but you had to deal with him first.

You knocked the gun into his head and used your elbow to knock him to the ground, putting a foot on his chest.

He looked up at you, terrified. What a coward.

“Too bad your daddy never taught you how to use guns,” you taunted, and grinned. “You leave her alone. She’s broken up with you. Get out of her house.”

“You’re Brekker’s whore, aren’t you?”

Your grin grows incredulous. You apply pressure to his chest steadily, and he wheezes, but he still continues.

“Yeah, look at you.You’re all upset, aren’t you, girl? Bet you’re sold out to half of the Barrel by him. Brekker likes his Kruge.” His eyes scan from underneath you. “Can’t say I’d blame him if he wanted to keep you as his personal pet, though.”

You scoff. “Careful what you say, I’m the one with a gun,” you remark, and you click a bullet into place for show, before taking your foot off. “Get out. If you touch her again, it’ll be more than me you’ll deal with.”

He scrambles upwards and disappears, and you hear the front door open and shut. You sigh.

“I’m sorry, I never intended for him to get that far. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” your friend sighs, hands lightly touching the bruises on her neck. “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you. What about you? You’re not-”

“I’m not with Kaz.” You help her up, and she smothers out her dress. “If Alix ever bothers you again, let me know.”

“Of course. I doubt he will. Thank you again, Y/N.”

…

He never did bother her again, but you- you were a different story. Every day, now, Kaz would offer you a note with some vague taunt on it.

“I’ll kill you.”

“Brekker’s slut! Slept your way to the top!”

“Let’s fight without a gun next time. I’ll have you pinned underneath me.”

“I’ll sedate and have my way with you. You still know some things from the Menagerie, don’t you?”

You had brushed off most of the taunts and threats, but they might’ve been starting to impact you, just a bit. You had assumed that Kaz had never read the threats. Each time, he would hand you the note with no expression.

Today’s note was a bit different.

“Y/N. Another note came in for you today.” He set the note on the table.

“Huh? Oh, thanks.”

You picked it up and unfolded the note, shielding the back of the paper with one hand. Kaz was clever, one of the many things you liked about him. You were sure that he’d try and read the back of the note if he could.

“Let’s meet on your territory. Crow Club at eight, in the alleyway.”

“Got yourself a boy, Y/N? These notes have started coming in every day,” Jesper whistled next to you, eyes scanning over the note. You look up, and Kaz is gone, watching from more of a distance. They’ve got it completely wrong.

You glance back down, and fail to notice how Kaz’s fingers tighten on his cane. Your laugh is dry, and you shake your head. “Nothing of the sort.”

Jesper ignores your denial. “Well, whoever he is, he seems awfully persistent. He wants to meet at the Crow Club, in the alleyway? Kinda sweet he wants to meet on your land, but why won’t he come in? He afraid of us, or somethin’?”

“Something like that,” you affirm.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to meet in here, either,” Inej says.

“Especially not with him here,” Jesper adds.

Your eyes meet Kaz’s across the room, and you both stare for a moment before he turns and looks away.

“Maybe.” Your answers are ambiguous, and you’re sure both Inej and Jesper want to know more, but you need to prepare for tonight.

“Sorry, guys. Excuse me.”

…

You have three throwable knives strapped into your boots, a small handgun holstered in your coat, and a syringe full of clozapine tucked up your sleeve. You’re prepared to take Alix down easily. You don’t exactly intend to shoot him, if only to make sure that the Crows don’t have a bigger target on their back from getting involved with the wealthy, but- well, you can’t deny it’s good to be ready in dire circumstances.

It’s 7:58 by the time you’re heading out to the back of the alley. You’re hiding behind the wall, just about to step over, but there’s already voices conversing there.

Did he bring backup? You grimace. You hadn’t considered that he might not fight fairly.

“Did she send her boyfriend after me ‘cause she was too much of a pussy to show?”

“I’d be careful what you say about Y/N.”

That’s Alix, and Kaz.

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to feel. He never did these kinds of things for you, never declared you his, but- you could handle this yourself. You didn’t need his protection, and you didn’t need him going out to deal with things because of one creepy ex.

Or, your thoughts betray you, you’re worried for him, because this could be a trap.

He glances over at the wall, where he seems to know you’re standing. It’s a warning glance, one to be quiet and let him deal with it.

“Aw, Brekker, you sweet on her? And here I thought it was a one-sided thing. Too bad I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours.”

Alix comes swinging. Kaz doesn’t say anything in reply, and instead jabs his cane forward, right into his stomach. He stumbles backward, and Kaz is still poised, waiting.

“I thought you were going to be more of a challenge than this. Even a fool knows not to attack first.”

“I’m no fool, Brekker. Don’t make any more sudden moves, or you’ll be shot. Do you know how easy it is to hire hitmen?”

There’s a faint look of surprise in Kaz’s expression before it smooths back into calm. “Well, to be honest,” he smiles pleasantly, “I thought merchers were above such methods.”

He’s glancing at you again, before his eyes move over two guard towers.

He’s pointing out to you where they are. Shit, what do you do? You’re no Inej, who can scale the walls and take them down silently. You’re no Jesper, who can shoot them with precision. You’re not going to be able to take out both snipers quickly enough. If you kill Alix and Kaz doesn’t dive behind the wall in time, he’ll get shot.

You let out a silent sigh. If only you could get both Kaz and Alix behind the wall, then you can get rid of the problem at its source, and then fuck the hitmen. They’re not going to kill Kaz if they can’t get paid.

“The rich are never above any methods. The only thing the rich care about is eradicating the criminals that roam the streets. I thought I was gonna get Y/N, and I could take her back to Tante Heleen,” he grinned, “But you’ll be worth a lot more. Wonder who’ll lay claim to you first.”

Kaz doesn’t say anything, just puts his hands behind his back, as if he’s waiting to be cuffed. But he gives quick signals to you, right before Alix steps around to secure the bonds- a quick countdown. He’s expecting you to shoot.

“No plans up your sleeves this time, Dirtyhands?”

You suddenly fire at Alix’s shoulder, a scream tearing through his throat as the cuffs drop to the ground. Kaz dives towards the wall, grabbing his cane along the way and breathing hard next to you.

Somehow, your aim remains true, and when you peek over the corner, you see Alix desperately trying to grasp at his wound. A grim sort of satisfaction greets your expression.

“Should’ve shot him in the head,” Kaz looks on with you.

“I’m trying not to paint a bigger target on our backs,” you explain, before you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him. Damn him for taking the fall for you. Did he know it was going to be a trap?

“Why the hell would you confront him alone? I had it handled, Kaz.”

“Not now..” His stare is directed at the shadows. And before you can get another word out, both of you are headed to his office.

The brisk walk is silent, and the tension could be cut through with a knife. At last, you reach his office, and he shuts the door, and sits down at his desk. You stand in front of him.

“Care to explain why you decided to confront Alix by yourself?” “I read the notes. I knew it was a trap.”

This doesn’t make you feel any better. “So you read the notes, where he called me a whore, a slut, your personal toy, and you don’t decide to tell me? You let it continuously happen, and then when the note comes today, you decide to go and white-knight for me because protecting me is a better idea than consulting me, huh?” you scoff. “That’s bullshit. You know I can handle myself. There’s a reason you chose me to be a part of the Crows, is there not? Or is what Alix said true? Did I sell myself to get to the top? Become your bitch?”

“I knew you could handle yourself just fine,” Kaz says calmly. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, because you didn’t consider the fact it was a trap. You could’ve died.”

“I would’ve been fine alone. Just because you’re the one who accounts for everything doesn’t mean I don’t use my head.” You know you’re being unfair, he’s right about the fact that you thought the fight was legitimate, but you could’ve saved yourself all the same.

“I’m not saying you don’t use your head, I’m saying that the probability of you dying if you went alone were much higher. I wanted to help you, save your ass back there,” he refutes.

“I would’ve died. So what? Deaths happen all the time in the Barrel! I die, and what?”

He doesn’t say anything.

You give a sardonic laugh. “I’m just an investment to you. I do what you want, with no question or hesitation, because I put my faith in you. My death just means the loss of a good soldier. I’m replaceable, though. My opinions are invaluable, so you don’t talk to me before you do shit. I’m always going to be underneath you, just a pawn.”

“You’re assuming things.”

“Like what, then?”

“Have you considered the fact that I was there because I wanted to help you? Because you’re a part of my Crows, and I don’t take anyone threatening us too kindly?”

His admission has you pausing, but he continues. “You die, and what? Forget what I may feel. What about Inej and Jesper? What about Nina, Wylan? I don’t want you to be underneath me. I see you as an equal.”

“I-”

“That’s why I was there. Because I-” love you, he nearly says, but he stops himself. “I protect the people I love.”

“And I’m someone you love,” you state quietly.

“Yes.”

You’re not sure how much you must have pissed him off to make him an honest man, but you can’t help smiling a little. “Saints, Kaz, at least ask a girl to be yours before you tell her you love her.”

“Fine. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?” You grin.

“Stop dodging the question,” he bites out.

“Yeah, I will,” you sigh. “But don’t get yourself killed, and especially not over me, please.”

“Well, darling, I think it’s fair of me to ask the same thing for you- don’t be reckless. People die far too easily in the Barrel,” he responds.

There’s another small silence, before you speak up again.

“Kaz. Thank you.”

He’s slightly surprised at the genuine warmth in your eyes, quickly replacing the anger that was in them before. He shrugs a little.

“It’s what lovers do, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “Lovers.”

Lovers, indeed.

[usmsgutterson]

Are you Really Okay?- Kaz Brekker

I am in no way trying to romanticize depression or suicidal ideations. I’ve dealt with them my entire life and it’s been no easy feat, and I know several others who’ve dealt with them the same. I am merely basing this off my own experiences and how I’ve dealt with it when things have gotten tough in the past, this is in no way meant to put down others who’ve had different experiences to me. 

Trigger warning- talk of depression, suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideations. If you are sensitive to those topics, for your safety, I advise that this be a work of mine that you stay away from.

Fic type- angst t

Warnings- mentions of Kaz’s trauma

Kaz couldn’t understand what’d happened. A few weeks before, you’d seemed fine. You were smiling, laughing with Inej and joking with Jesper. You’d gone to every meal, ate every last bit of your food. In between bites, you indulged Jespers talk of his guns, talked to Wylan about his flute, spoke with Kaz about a plan for a heist. You were okay. 

But that’d been the weeks before. That hadn’t been the two months it took to plan the heist, or the heist itself. 

The first thing that ticked him off that day was your failure to meet everyone for breakfast. You never missed out on a good meal, especially not when good conversation came with it, and Kaz had sent Rotty up to your room to see what’d happened.

Rotty came up empty, with just a note in his hand. In the note, you’d apologized, but promised to be on time to the first rendezvous point. Kaz wouldn’t reprimand you for it. He knew you’d come and go as you pleased, whether or not you had his permission to do so, so there really was no point in reprimanding and starting a fight. 

The heist went well, as they normally did, but you didn’t go out for the victory dinner, either. He’d gone, but as the six of them walked, slowly, back to The Slat, Kaz made sure to ask Inej what the hell had been up with you, see if she knew anything.

Inej, to his delight, hadn’t come up empty. “They have depression,” she’d said. “I can’t explain it, though. I just have a baseline understanding.” 

“Tell me,” Kaz demanded. “I want to know what’s wrong. They’ve been off for weeks now.”

“Careful, Brekker,” Nina taunted. “Keep going the way that you are, it might start to sound like you actually care!” 

“He doesn’t,” Jesper quipped, and for once, Kaz found himself grateful for Jesper and his constant need to be involved in conversations. “They’re not more than an investment to him. Isn’t that right, Kaz?” He said nothing, just glanced at Inej expectantly.

“They’re sad,” Nina input before Inej got the chance. “Isn’t that what it is?”

“It’s technically defined as a severe feeling of despondency and dejection, actually,” that was Wylan. “It’s coupled with a constant feeling of sadness, emptiness and not wanting to do what might’ve once peaked their interest.”

“It goes along with suicidal thoughts, too,” Inej spoke. “And ideations. They go hand in hand. You can’t treat one without also treating the other.” Kaz felt tempted to run the rest of the way back to The Slat, all the way up to your room and demand why you’d not told him, but he resisted.

“They should’ve gotten their meds refilled a while ago, though,” Inej matched the pace when Kaz began to move just a bit quicker. “I don’t know why they haven’t, to be completely candid.”

The rest of the way back, Nina and Matthias conversed with Inej and Jesper and Wylan laughed so loud they almost woke the city up, but Kaz kept quiet, his brain overtaken with questions.

Why haven’t they told me? He thought. Why didn’t I know? I care about them, don’t I? And isn’t that a bit of a crucial detail?

It slowly began to make sense to him. The red rimmed eyes some mornings, coupled with puffy cheeks, it should’ve been clear to him that you’d cried at some point through the night while he slept. The bags under your eyes slowly becoming more pronounced as you began to stay awake later; your reluctance to tell him anything, despite how close you were. All the meals you’d missed. 

Your smile.

You’d stopped smiling so much.

Kaz missed it. The sound of your laugh circulating through the room, your smile that managed to brighten his entire day. 

He felt like an idiot for not seeing the signs when they were right there, seemingly right in front of his face. He could’ve helped you, could’ve made sure you stayed on track with the medication, he could’ve done so much, and yet, as he walked, he felt as though he’d done so little. It infuriated him.  

When the six of them had arrived back at The Slat, he turned to Inej. “I’m going to go up to their room,” he whispered. “See how they’re doing.” Inej tossed him a smile.

“You do care, don’t you?” She asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Only a little,” Kaz murmured, almost hating that he admitted it to someone other than himself. “I just want to make sure that they’re okay.”

“And if they aren’t?” Matthias’ voice almost sounded like a scold. “What will you do then, demjin? Comfort them from a doorway?” 

“Matthias!” Nina scolded. “Let Kaz do his thing, okay? You don’t know Y/N like he does. He’ll comfort them in whatever way he sees fit.” Kaz shot a grateful nod at Nina as he made his way over to the stairs and up to your room. 

After a quick break in front of your door to catch his breath, he knocked three times.

“Come in,” you called, but your voice had waivered. “Just a moment, though, okay? I have to clean some things up!” Kaz went in anyway, opening the door just enough to slide in and closing it using his back. 

“Brekker,” you whispered, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. Kaz noticed scarring, but he decided not to say anything. “Hello.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, not at all caring that he was being so blunt. “Are you really okay, Y/N?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” you murmured as you went around the room, plucking laundry off the floor and putting trash into the small trash bin you kept beside your bed. “Why are you asking if I’m okay when I’ve done nothing to say otherwise?”

“You’ve missed meals. You’re slower than normal. You smile less,” part of him wants to reach out, take your hand in his and rub your knuckles with his thumb and be a man who can touch another human being without issue, but he knows it’s unrealistic. 

“Well, forgive me for thinking that The Bastard of The Barrel wouldn’t pick up on how many times I smiled throughout the run of a day,” you quipped. “The heist was done just fine. We all got our shares of the money, and we all returned unscathed. I fail to see why you’ve put so much effort into caring.”

“Because it’s you,” he whispered.

“I’m just another investment, Brekker. You’re welcome to stop caring now. I’m going to sleep, and I’d as soon do it without the knowledge that your back is pressed against my door.”

“You’re more than an investment,” he whispered. “I care about you. I want to know when somethings wrong. Depression isn’t the kind of thing you keep from me, Y/N.” 

“I’ve kept it from you just fine, Kaz,” you shot back, wiping at your eyes. “I’ve been able to live with it since I was a kid without issue, without you noticing, so why notice now? Is it because I’ve been slower? Because I’ve slept in and missed breakfast? Because I’ve not felt the motivation to get and up and do what we do everyday?” 

“It’s because I care, Y/N,” he took a step toward you as you set to making the small bed that you slept on. 

“How many times have you considered climbing to the roof and jumping off it?” You winced at the question, and Kaz felt his heart clench for a single moment in time. 

“Are you asking me if I’m suicidal, Brekker?”

“Yes.”

“Sometimes, I think about it. I think about going down to Fifth Harbor, jumping into the lake and swimming until the bottom is so far down that I wouldn’t be able to reach it without drowning,” Kaz moved to sit on the bed next to you, keeping a little distance.

“When I take my meds, I’m not even happy,”

“So what are you?”

“Numb. I don’t feel anything. All of the pain goes away, but so does the happiness. The joy. The smiles.” Kaz winced. He’d gone through enough days without getting a smile from you or hearing your laugh that he was almost completely sure another of them might’ve been his breaking point. 

“And without your medication?”

“Highs and lows. Mostly lows, unfortunately. Depressive episodes, no motivation. Without my meds, my emotions are a tsunami and my conscious mind is the city that it runs through.”

“How can I help?”

“This is helping,” you admit. “It’s just--I’ve talked with Wylan and Jesper about it before, but neither of them ever have anything to say about any of it. They’re understanding, but sometimes, it just...”

“Wylan says things that’d come off a motivation quote poster and Jesper cracks a joke?” Kaz questions. 

You laughed then, and Kaz, completely and utterly unsure of himself, wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

For a couple of long lasting seconds, he was there again. In the barge, with Jordies slippery, slimy body beneath him as he kicked his way back to shore, but then he glanced at you. Saw the fear in your eyes as you registered what he’d done, trying to study him and figure out if you’d crossed a boundary, but all Kaz did was nod.

“I’m okay, L/N,” he whispered. “I’m fine.” 

You two stayed like that for a long, long time, until both of your eyes fluttered closed and sleep dragged you under. 

[bookishdream]

Could you do a Kaz x reader where the reader have to "cheat on him" (not in relationship but like she goes to another gang) because someone's threatening her and when he discovers she was just trying to protect him and the gang she dies

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for a request, I've been wanting to write some angst for a really long time! I hope it is as hurtful as you wished, enjoy xx

TW: angst, blood, killing

kaz brekker x reader

Your hands were sweaty and shaking. You crossed your arms on your chest in order to hide that. You didn’t like being threatened, especially by some amateurs. But it wasn’t a threat against you, it was against your family in Novyi Ziem. You had to use your whole will power to not kill them right there and then.

“Why do you think I’d do anything you want me to?” you asked snapping your gaze between a woman and a man in front of you. “You don’t know anything about me and my family you assume I have.”

“Oh, y/n, but we know everything. For instance, your little brother is playing as we talking on your vast field, your parents are watching him with so much love in their eyes,” woman with blonde hair spoke first, describing the scene so vividly that you almost showed an emotion on your face. “maybe they have already forgotten about you? Maybe your mother is pregnant so they could fill a blank you left in their home.”

“Shut up, you think you’re so smart, aren’t you?” you snapped, face blank and mind filling with memories from times when you were as young as your brother was then, playing on the exact same field. “I will never betray Kaz, and you should know that.”

“Oh sweetie,” the guy beside walked closer to you, you made a step, in order to make some distance between you and them. “we’re not asking you to betray him, we’re asking you to leave this silly gang and join us, Pekka Rollins would be really happy if you did.”

“You two are much denser than I thought, if you think I want to make him happy.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Blonde said, making you shiver. “We have someone who would be pleased to kill this little family of yours. I don’t think you want them dead, even though they think you are, in fact, dead.”

You started to think about that. Crows were your friends and you love them. Inej and Nina always found various ways to make you cheerful when your day wasn’t the best, Jesper taught you how to use a pistol and flirted with you like his life depended on it. Wylan was like a sun in rainy days, even if you loved them, you also loved this boy and his stupid jokes. Matthias was funny to tease, he always was saying how awful you and the girls were, but you could also see this little twitch of his lip corner when he tried to suppress his laugh. And there was Kaz, your beginning wasn’t the pleasant one, you nearly killed him when you saw him for the first time, and in revenge he left you in the Barrel for the whole night, all alone. But after that, you started falling for him, and you fell hard. You couldn’t exactly point out when that happened, but you were sure you’d anything to save him from himself. He had tough personality, he cared only for money and how he could invest it to get the whole city only for himself. But he let you do that with him, barley sleeping and when you did it was in the same bed. Arm-length gap but you always were less exhausted than when you were sleeping in your own bed. You loved him and the rest of the Crows, but you loved your family more. And you knew what you had to do.

“Bitch.” You murmured. “Fine, whatever. Just stay the hell out of my family. And the gang.”

“We knew you’d make a right decision. Pekka will send money to Per Haskell in order to buy your contract. You won’t regret that.”

“I already do.”

After that day, you were about to start living with your new gang, family, like Pekka had said to you the previous day, he’d also told you to not worry about your parents and brother, that they were safe as long as you were working with him, willingly.

You wouldn’t call this willingly, but you guessed it was enough to prevent your family from any harm coming from Pekka and his stupid gang. You hated being here, you missed the Crow Club, late night talks with Inej and Nina, and helping Kaz with buying new ships. You wanted nothing more than to escape, but you couldn’t. Kaz and Crows could fight and kill, whereas your family was vulnerable, they couldn’t even hurt a fly. You spent the whole evening in your empty room. Window with grids making you shiver, you felt like a prisoner you were.

“We have a job for you.” The blonde girl who captured you came in, like it was her cell, not yours. “Behave and perhaps we’ll get rid of those grids.”

You wanted to punch her, you didn’t even know her name, it wasn’t even relevant, your hand was itching. You took a long, calming breath and looked at her, frowning. “I thought it was another week until you’d trust me enough to even open my window.”

“You’ve been here for two weeks. Plans have changed, we need you right now, so cut the attitude and come with me.”

You rolled your eyes and went after her, going up the stairs and leaving the place Pekka’s gang lived. You took another deep breath, smelling the awful scent of Ketterdam, smoke and money as Kaz used to say. Gods, you missed him.

“Where are we going?” you asked, falling into step with the girl, there were only the two of you, you assumed the rest will be somewhere where you were going. “What’s the job?”

“Can’t you just shut up? You’ll know when we’re there.”

You really wanted to punch her, still you said nothing, you wouldn’t get anything from her. It was dark on the city’s streets, buildings high enough to cover the moon, didn’t let its shine to light up the roads. You were annoyed and cold, your hair was swaying with the wind, goose bumps poking on your skin.

“Here.” Blonde said, handing you a pistol. “If you kill someone from ours, you’re dead before you take your last breath.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding your gun into the pocket of a coat you had. The metal was cold, making your hands even colder than they were before. Now when you had a real gun, not only your knife, perhaps you’d be able to escape. But where would you go? You were sure Kaz knew where you were, perhaps thinking you betrayed him, that thought only made you feel guilty in your guts, he trusted you and you chose people who you hadn’t seen for years over him. You had to escape, the cost didn’t matter.

When you came to the place, you saw a guy from Pekka’s gang and Kaz. Both of them were talking, but members of both groups had their guns or blades taken out. The Dirtyhands had his black coat, and his walking stick, as always. Jesper also was beside him, hands on his gun belt, ready to take them out and fire. You were more than sure that Inej was also there, somewhere on the roof or in the shadows, waiting and prepared to fight.

“We have men everywhere, two on roofs, one behind the bridge. All of them have guns pointed on you and your previous friends. I hope you know what that means.” The girl said, eyeing you. You only nodded, worrying too much about the Crows to even snap at her. “Good, now go and wait for a signal.”

You did as you were told, you hid somewhere behind a building, trying to recall every piece of information you gathered while snooping on guards or using the fact that they didn’t always close your doors. You had to find someone and tell them, you couldn’t waste any more time.

You poked your head out, searching for Matthias or Wylan. You doubted Nina would be here, since she was still working in the pleasure house. You were sure Wylan was there with his explosion ready to, well, explode. You cursed under your breath, when you couldn’t spot any of them, panic getting out of you with frustration. Someone from the Dime Lions would notice you’re not somewhere where they could spot you.

You crossed the narrow lane, as you noticed Matthias, you whistled hoping he would look into your direction. He turned his head and spotted you, anger on his face visible even in the dark. You cringed, knowing you’d get beaten up.

“You’ve got some nerve,” He said, his voice low. “after you started working with them, you have the audacity to come here.”

“Listen, I didn’t have a choice,” your voice so close to start begging him for forgiveness. “It was about my family.”

He looked at you wordlessly, confusion painting his face. Of course, he didn’t know you had a family, why would he. After a second, the ire came again. “You’re lying.”

“I'm not, I want to help you.”

“Oh, so now you did that to help us?”

“Matthias, I’m begging you, just let me tell you what I learnt.” You pleaded, your voice small. “Pekka wants to kill you as you’re standing, he has those new guns that can shoot you from really long distance.”

“What?” he looked alarmed, “We have to tell Kaz. Come.”

You let out a breath, it wasn’t the best look he sent you, but at least he didn’t leave you here. You told him everything you knew, he listened but his face still didn’t have pleasant expression.

You took out your gun, making your way behind the dumpster, hiding in shadows. You tried to calm your nerves, but the adrenaline had already kicked in. Matthias and you startled when you heard a shot, then another. You sent yourselves a knowing look, taking a step closer to the place where Kaz and the other guy were talking. Jesper had his guns out and Kaz was looking at the boy in front of him with disgust. You saw one of the Dregs were bleeding, you lifted your gun, targeting the closest one from the Dime Lions and fired. The bullet hit the girl in her stomach, making her stumble and fall to the ground. You hid yourself behind the wall and waited. Matthias sent you a look and you only lifted your arms, not knowing what to said.

After that, guns started firing, screams were everywhere. You saw the blonde girl that came here with you, standing with her pistol, aiming Kaz. You shot without looking, trying to hit her in an arm, you heard her scream and saw how the gun was laying on a ground. You looked up and saw that Kaz was looking at you, his face blank and unreadable. Jesper beside him, shooting people and screaming at Wylan to explode. The sound of explosion came from the roof, exactly where members of Lions were, you let out a shaky breath and made a step into the fight. Matthias fighting with his fists, slowly making his way toward Kaz, you tried to help him clear the path by shooting few people either in their heads or legs.

Your hands were tired, your head pounding but you were fighting hard, you had to make this in order to confess Kaz the whole truth. When you were close to him, he locked his eyes into yours.

“We have to talk.” You told him, lowering your tone. “Please.”

“This is not the best time to talk, y/n” the way he said your name made you shivered. It wasn’t an intimate way, it was with so much poison in only one word. “Why aren’t you fighting with your new gang?”

“Kaz, please, I’m trying to help.” You voiced, your eyes burning with sweat that slowly dripped from your forehead.

“Whatever.” He smacked an opponent with his cane, you only heard the sound of cracked bone and a loud thud when the enemy fell to the ground.

You two were fighting as you had before Pekka came into your life. Kaz understood you without any words, knew exactly where he should cover you because you couldn’t. Your movements were precise, keeping people away from Kaz’s vulnerable leg. You were fighting in a harmony, you kept your focus on people you had to kill, you shot them without any hesitation. When your bullets ended, you took out your knife and started stabbing everyone who wanted to stab you.

“I– “you paused, feeling a pain in your abdomen. You looked at Kaz, but he was looking at your lower stomach, you placed your gaze there and you saw blood. A lot of blood, then you felt pain, you stumbled, but Kaz placed his hand on your waist, slowly letting you fall on the ground. Your whole stomach was on fire, slowly burning you with its flame.

“Don’t you even dare dying here, messing my coat with your blood” he said, caressing your cheek. You chuckled, tasting blood on your tongue. “Don’t even think about it, y/n.”

“I’m–, please forgive me, Kaz” you murmured, hoped your words were understandable. “I was trying to save my family, but you’re my family too.”

“Y/n, I forgive you, but I’m begging you, don’t close your eyes” his voice filled with regret, eyes burning with anger, but you knew it wasn’t toward you. “Keep your eyes open.” He yelled at someone, but you couldn’t understand either it was Jesper or Matthias.

“Tell them I love them” you started to give up, your eyelids slowly closing. “I love you, Kaz Brekker.”

“Y/n, please don’t leave me” he tried to keep his voice from cracking, but he failed.

But you didn’t hear that, you had your eyes closed, hand that was laying on your stomach, now laying on the ground. He carefully removed his arm and got up. He spotted a blonde girl, smirking and looking at him, she slowly lifted her pistol, mockingly swaying it. She winked at him and still with a smirk, she left. Kaz made a promise he would kill her, he would do it for him. And for you.

[my-kindred-spirit]

Which is your favourite flower, Kaz?

Summary: Two years after the ending of Crooked Kingdom, Kaz and Inej enjoy a well-deserved moment of peace and happiness in Kaz's farm, surrounded by the beauty of nature. They reflect on their past and the healing they've done, as well as on their feelings for each other. 

Pairing: Kaz x Inej 

Basically, this is just pure FLUFF!!!

INEJ

Inej had always loved looking at the sky. When her mind was still young and naïve, she used to imagine herself walking between the clouds on a white sparkly tightrope, leaving behind her a silver trail decorating the silent sky. She used to dream of her spirit hanging in the air and her soul flying free in the blue infinity of the firmament, with a smile printed on her face and the lightness that is conferred only by liberty sculpted in her heart.    

When her mind was trying to survive the horrors that Fate had destined to her, Inej still looked at the sky. Ketterdam’s sky was grey, opaque with the steam of the cities and almost threatening in his abyssal vastness. It wasn’t arid though. It was very much alive, reached day and night by the laughs of the tourists wandering through the narrow streets of the Barrel, by the drunken songs of the men wasting themselves in the taverns and the joyful or frustrated shouts of the ones playing in the gambling halls. But the sky was also the inevitable witness of the desperate pleas of people being defrauded or robbed, of the painful cries of some poor souls abandoned by the Saints and doomed to a fate of violence and sorrows, of the desperate sobs of girls violated in the brothels. 

Read it on AO3 here!

The sky had never been reached by the Wraith’s voice though. She liked to contemplate it in silence, sitting on Ghezen’s thumb and savoring all the memories of when the clouds looked softer. She had actually hanged in the air and flied as the most elegant and gracious of the birds, but her stage had been roofs and chimneys, not clouds. Her curtain had been a grey and opaque sky, not a bright and azure one. Still, she had defeated gravity, even if not how she had dreamt as a child.

Now that her mind had known pain and had wandered even through the world’s darkest meanders, Inej still loved looking at the sky. She liked to remember both the acrobatics she had performed on the rope, admired by her proud family, and the brave stunts she had succeeded in as the Wraith, with Ketterdam’sky as her sole witness. She liked to admire the blue intense sky towering on the True Sea and the azure one inundating with light and hope Kaz’s farm.    

 It was early June and the clouds looked softer than ever. The sun burnt high in the clear azure sky and his shiny rays softly tinged the boundless meadows gold. 

Inej let her eyes part from the sky and wander around the immense verdant meadows surrounding her, which stretched as far as eye can see and finally got lost between the vague trembling lines of the horizon, in a pyrotechnic explosion of colours. She admired the flowery fields and the carpet of grass she was sitting on, embroidered with the golden light of the daffodils, the white purity of the daisies, the gentle pink of the roses, the purple of the wild geranium – her mother’s favourite flower- and the strong blue of the irises, which reminded her of the unforgiving waves colliding with her Wraith. On the distance she could see the orchards tinging the landscape pink: she recognized the light-pink petals of cherries, the darker pink and orange flowers of the peaches and then the white and pinkish heart-shaped flowers of the apricots, slowly falling to the ground and leaving place to the orange velvety drupes.

The fresh floral perfume was inebriating and the delicate scent of grass, soft and faintly damp under her touch, graced her nostrils and intoxicated her thoughts. A soft symphony of birds singing reigned in the colourful heaven and lulled her, accompanied by the gentle tune of a light pleasant breeze, the soft murmurings of the creek beyond the orchards and the melody of... of feets approaching her.

 “You have picked some flowers.” Inej turned around and watched Kaz nodding to the wooden basket full of flowers, while slowly sitting beside her. This Kaz’s voice, Kaz Rietveld's voice, was not as raspy as Kaz Brekker’s one. He wasn’t even using the cane, which he had come to find unnecessary for walking on the soft grass.                                                                                                          This Kaz, her Kaz, had longer hair on the sides and brown highlights, result of almost three weeks spent in the sun. He had even tanned a bit and gotten freckles all over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, and the corners of his mouth seemed to be turned up in a smile more often than not. He was wearing simple black breeches and a loose white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. No coat, no hat. No gloves. His eyes, however, were the same colour of bitter coffee as always.

“Wylan helped me earlier.” Inej observed Kaz eyeing the flowers with a troubled expression and then slowly lifting his head to look at her. “I've never given you flowers.”  

  KAZ 

“You have picked some flowers”.  Inej turned around and Kaz swore he had felt his heart stopping. The sun rays caressed her chocolate skin and framed her beautiful face. Oil black lashes fanned over her cheeks and a light breeze ruffled her silky dark hair. Her obsidian eyes resembled the darkest of the abysses and Kaz craved to forget himself and die in his pitch-dark immensity. Her vivid eyes sparkled as the brightest and most vibrant of stars and Kaz ached to live eternally and enshrine that light in a golden casket.

To Kaz, she didn’t look real, not for him. To Kaz, she looked holier that any of the Saints she devotedly believed in, so stunning that he thought he might just break down and cry if he looked at her any longer. Enveloped by the rainbow of flowers and trees, she looked like a picture painted by Purity itself, with the colourful palette of kindness and hope and the silver brush of strength and determination.

Kaz couldn’t thank any God enough that she was real. He jealously cherished every moment in which his eyes were graced with the sight of her elegant figure and kind smile, as he had never seen her before, as he would never see her again. He had learned to welcome and appreciate even the feeling of his breath catching and mouth drying whenever he looked at her, whenever he was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world.

To Kaz, looking at Inej felt like dying. It felt like he couldn’t hope nor ask to breathe the same air of a heart so kind, a soul so hopeful, a mind so strong. It felt like being lost in the vastness of the universe, like navigating the tumultuous waves of the True sea, overwhelmed by feelings he never knew his hearth could fell, stunned by a fate he didn’t believe he deserved. It felt like being consumed by her, for her.  

To Kaz, looking at Inej felt like living. It felt like he could hope to walk this land as a better man, like he had managed to pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her. It felt like having been hurt and then healed, like the sorrows and ghost of his past wouldn’t persecute him for evermore, like life was worth living. It felt like being whole, like the void in his soul had been filled by her, for her.  

To Kaz, looking at Inej felt like looking at the sun, like being warmed and burned, overwhelmed by a powerful oxymoron of emotions, a powerful oxymoron of life and death. To Kaz, Inej looked like the sun. To Kaz, Inej looked brighter than the sun.

“Wylan helped me earlier.” Kaz looked at the wooden basket full of flowers and a sudden realization striked him : flowers, he had never gifted her with flowers. He had given her a knife, sure, but he had done it for his own personal purposes, for turning her into his Wraith. Now they had been staying in Johannus Rietveld's farm for almost three weeks, literally surrounded by flowers, and he had never given her any. Would she have wanted him to? Would she have liked a gift that would have reminded her of her happy childhood, and not of the violence she had been forced to face? Would she have liked a gift that he would have given her had they met in another life, had they been Inej Ghafa and Kaz Rietveld, instead of the Wraith and the Bastard of the Barrel?

He shifted his eyes back to hers and murmured weakly, “I’ve never given you flowers.” Inej looked taken aback for a moment, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, before quickly recomposing herself and setting her face into a stoic, indecipherable expression. She looked straight into his eyes, pursed lips and brow furrowed, and Kaz knew he was inevitably about to enhance the list of his unforgivable sins. “Kaz”, her voice came out unbearably severe and disappointed and Kaz knew he would have gladly chosen death if it’d mean he would never be the one to bring that tone in her angelic voice again. But then her lips twitched almost imperceptibly, like she was trying with all her might to hold back Kaz’s final death sentence, and her eyes gleamed with… amusement?

A laugh, she was trying to hold back a laugh. How Inej managed to turn Dirtyhands, the brain which had broken into the Ice Court and destroyed one of Ketterdam’s most powerful man, into a lovestruck fool was downright beyond him. “Inej”, he sighed defeated and her whole face lighted up with delight, before she carefreely threw her head back and released the most infectious and crystalline of laughs. Now Kaz was sure he was going to die, mercilessly killed by the most beatific sound which had ever reached his ears, undeniably annihilated by the same laugh he craved for all-day long and graced his dreams every night, by the truest and most profound essence of her.

Her eyes sparkled with sheer love and a warm, affectionate smile enlightened her features: “Kaz, you gave me my Wraith, you found my parents for me, you restored my freedom when I thought there were no hope or salvation left for me”, she cooed fondly and tenderly, “do you honestly believe I would be upset because you never gave me flowers?”. Kaz felt his lips immediately turning up in a sincere smile and, not trusting himself with words, slowly shifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against hers, asking the permission she immediately granted, sliding her smaller hand into his callous one and entwining their fingers. It was always like this between them, a game of continuous asking and giving permissions, of constant gaining and offering trust, a game he genuinely believed they were slowly yet effectively winning.

“Do you want to know what my father used to tell me when I was little?” Inej asked softly, while lovingly drawing little circles with her thumb on Kaz’s bare hand.

“Another Suli wise proverb?” he smirked.

“No, Kaz”, she playfully rolled her eyes, “not another of our useful proverbs. He used to tell me that there would have been many boys to bring me flowers, but that only one would have known my favourite flower, or song or sweet. And that even if he’d have been too poor to give me any, he wouldn’t have mattered, because that boy, and him only, had earnt my heart.”

Kaz’s heart leaped with joy: he knew. He had never given her flowers, but he knew her favourite one, he knew. “Dahlia. Your favourite flower is the Dahlia, the red one. You told me when we saw one in the flower stall in Goedmedbridge, remember? We were following those Dime Lions. You said you liked it because it appeared elegant and graceful, but that the red colour made it look also somewhat powerful and strong.”, he blurted out with the excitement of a child. ”And your favourite sweet are those chocolate biscuits Nina made you try when you visited her in Ravka last summer. The ones she had cooked modifying Matthias's Fjerdian recipe.”

“And my favourite song?”

Hearing Inej’s trembling, touched voice snapped Kaz out of his frantic enthusiasm, his grin softening into a lovely crooked smile and devotion gleaming in his eyes. “You don’t have one. You can’t choose between all the lullabies your mother singed to get you to sleep.”

  INEJ 

Inej didn’t answer. She tightened her hold on Kaz’s hand, but didn’t answer. She fought the urge to cry – if from happiness or gratitude or emotion she couldn’t say-, but didn’t answer. She looked into his strong tea brown eyes as if he was a miracle of her Saints, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t, for the life of her, find her voice, because this boy, this man, had earned her heart.  

She had fallen for Dirtyhands under the grey sky of Ketterdam, the man who had freed her from a cage of horrors and humiliations and had given her, if not happiness or safety, a new perspective, a new possibility at life. She had fallen for the man who, as first thing, had refused to call her with that grotesque, demeaning name Tante Heleen had given her, but had asked for her real name, for how she wished to be called. She had fallen for the Bastard of the Barrel, the man who had taught her how to fight and defend herself, how to become powerful and even dangerous, how to make others respect her. She had fallen for the man who had never wanted to own her or annihilate her identity. She had fallen for the man who, even if hadn’t promised her that, had always protected her, whatever the cost.  

Then she had slowly came to know Kaz Rietveld and had fallen hard for him too. She had fallen for the boy who looked sincerely ashamed after being scolded by Mr. Fahey, for the boy who fought everyday against his demons and was willing to defeath them to be with her. She had fallen for the boy who smiled light-heartedly and laughed freely, for the boy whose eyes glowed in the sun and gleamed with a nervous yet warm devotion while braiding her hair.

She had fallen for the man who wanted her and wished to dedicate himself to her, without gloves, without armour. She had fallen for the naive, sweet boy Kaz had once been and for the man revenge and greed had shaped, a crow mercilessly remindful or who had wronged him, but also of who had been kind and fair. She had fallen for who he was becoming, a man who had known pain and hatred, but was willing to open the rusty gate of his hearth to love and friendship.

She had fallen for Kaz Brekker, the man who had returned her the liberty which had been violently snatched from her and had found her beloved parents. The man who had encouraged her ambitions and supported her constantly in her fight against the slavers.

She had fallen for Kaz Brekker. She loved Kaz Brekker, and he had earned her heart. He possessed her heart.

“I can braid your hair, if you’d like. I… I could add the flowers.” Hadn’t she just been thinking he owned her heart?

Her voice still failed her, so she resolved to nod. She watched Kaz shifting a bit to sit behind her and heard his breathing deepening. After a few instants, Inej welcomed the cherished feeling of Kaz’s long fingers caressing her inky hair with a gentleness that didn’t surprise her anymore. She felt him dividing the hair into three even parts, before crossing the left section over the middle one and then doing the same with the right section. As always, he worked in silence, section after section, strand after strand, breath by breath, brick by brick. The first times he had braided her hair, Inej had felt Kaz's fingers trembling and his breathing fastening, so she had started to ask him what was on his mind, to distract him, or she would tell him stories from her childhood, to soothe him.

Now, his fingers didn't tremble anymore and he was rather succesful in controlling his breathing, but Inej still whished to hear his concentrated voice. She still wanted to explore the gears of his psyche, to navigate the thunderous stream of his thoughts, to know the forbidden ruminations of his complex mind. “Wha”, she coughed, clearing his throat, “What are you thinking right now, Kaz?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”, he chuckled, and Inej could perfectly figure his mischievous grin.

“Kaz.”

“Darling Inej, treasure of my heart, I'm thinking about how it's taking me forever to braid all this hair. I swear I'll cut it, one day or another.”

“You wouldn't dare!”, she cried out in mock outrage, repressing a laugh.

“Would you slit my throat with Sankta Alina while I sleep, if I cut it?”

“You have to ask?”

“Then no, I wouldn't dare.”, Kaz answered with an exaggeratedly fearful tone that really didn't suit him.

They kept silent for a moment, pursing their lips, before giving in and bursting out laughing until tears rolled down their cheeks with amusement. “I never knew Dityhands was so easily scared", Inej sputtered out between laughs, “he is such a chicken, isn't he?”.

“Stop making me laugh Inej", he sniggered, “or I'll get confused and will have to start the braid from the beginning. I'm doing a delicate operation here while you just sit and laugh, you know?”

“Sorry, sorry", she wiped a tear from her left eye, “but you still have to tell me what you are thinking about.”

They slowly calmed down, quieting their breathing and setting into a comforting silence. Inej, however, had felt Kaz’s fingers slightly tensing up and when his hand shifted to take a geranium into the basket -after having secured the braid-, she asked again. “Kaz, tell me please.”

He took a deep breath. His fingers trembled. “I’m thinking if this is how it would have been. If we hadn’t become Dirtyhands and the Wraith, that is.”

Inej’s heart gave a painful squeeze. “Kaz”, she started soothingly, “we-.

“Would you want us to be only Kaz Rietveld and Inej Ghafa, sitting on the grass and enjoying the sun, while I braid your hair? Would you want me to be able to touch you as every man touches his girlfriend? Would you- ”

“No, Kaz, I wouldn’t.”, she brusquely interrupted him, “I wouldn’t.”. She swiftly turned around, took both his hands in hers without giving much thought to caution and permissions, and looked straight into his eyes with the determination of who allows for no replication. “I wouldn’t, Kaz. I wouldn’t because, if we hadn’t become Dirtyhands and the Wraith, we would have never met. And even if we had met, we wouldn’t have been who we are today, and believe me when I say I’d never change who we are, for anything in the world. It’s not Kaz Rietveld the one I’m in love with, you know. I’m in love with him, with Dirtyhands, with the Bastard of the Barrel.” Inej swore he’d never looked that dumbfounded, but she wasn’t quite finished. “I’m in love with Kaz Brekker. I’m in love with you, Kaz. As you’re in love with the Wraith, with Captain Ghafa, with Inej. Aren’t you, Kaz?”, and this time she didn’t even try to hold back the tears.

“Inej”, he murmured with a devotion who made her feel holier than the Saints she believed in, “Inej”, he repeated, while slowly untangling his right hand from hers and lifting it to her cheeks. With the gentlest touch, he captured her tears with his fingertips and delicately wiped them away, one by one. “Inej”, and if she could have bottled the sound of her name being so tenderly whispered by his lips and gotten drunk on it every night, she would have. ”Inej”, he delicately cupped her right cheek, while his other hand went to softly rest on her neck. “Inej”, he got closer to her and Inej thought her heart might just jump out of her chest, “Inej”, and he slowly lowered his head, lips hovering over her cheek. “Inej”, and his crimson lips brushed the tip of her nose, his hands slightly tremulous. “Inej", and his warm lips captured a tear rolling down her left cheek, and then another and another. “Inej", and his soft lips grazed her forehead, while she lifted her trembly hands and delicately yet eagerly rested them on his wrists. “Inej", and she had barely a moment to register the lonely tear falling from his left eye, before she finally felt the cherished pressure of his moist lips against hers, both familiar and new all at once. And a rainbow of colours and emotions exploded behind her closed eyelids.

In this moment, when Kaz's lips were pressed against hers, Inej knew that she'd never be the same again, that she'd never forget the taste of him, that she’d never give anything for granted, that she'd never stop fighting for what is good and just in this twisted world. In this moment, while she could feel the faintest brushes of tongues and the most sheer connection of hearts and souls, Inej found herself floating away, knowing nothing but Kaz, his smell, his breath, his hands on her skin, his hearth throbbing madly in his chest. In this moment, when he finally met her where she had been waiting for him, Inej thanked all her Saints and treasured the arduous path that, after years of battles and sufferings and anguish, had allowed them to live this precious instant, this precious everything.

When they finally pulled away, hearts gone mad with joy and euphoria, Inej looked into Kaz's blissful eyes and gave him a watery smile: “Which is your favourite flower, Kaz?”

A/N:  Hey guys, thank you so much for reading!!! What do you think Kaz's favourite flower would be?? Tell me in the comments!

[southslates]

loving you is a losing game

@kanejweek day three: adventure (outer space) / kanej / pre-canon - one-shot - rated T / read on ao3! / 2076 words

Kaz doesn’t understand himself, his own convictions and the way his heart changes its beat next to Inej. Or rather, he does understand. He’s Dirtyhands, and that’s why he can never let his emotions slide out of the corner of his mind he keeps them hidden in and find a home in his mouth. There is no salvation left to spare for him; not in this life, not in the next. He doesn’t want salvation, anyway.

It's so hard to convince himself that’s true in moments like this. Inej is on her stomach next to him, her arm an inch away from his. Despite the way he finds air rising out of his lungs when his gaze loiters on her for too long, her skin disgusts him as much as any other. There are no exceptions to his special kind of hell. He would do so much to beat this illness of the mind, but there is nothing left for him to do.

“You said he’d be here by now,” he growls at her, keeping his face turned away from her hooded features, staring at the street and breathing in, and then out, keeping his mind and body at ease. He has a job to do—a vase to lift—and he cannot be distracted, he cannot be distracted, he cannot—

Kaz grits his teeth. He will not look at Inej and see the stars above illuminate her features in the most dangerous of ways, like a temptation. He cannot do this, he cannot do this, he remembers Imogen. He is Kaz Brekker and he has done so much to make himself a myth but this he cannot do. He has acknowledged this as his weakness.

And if it is his weakness, she is too, by extension. 

“Stoepker has been on time every day for the past week,” she says quietly. “It would just be unlucky. We should go back to the Slat, it’s too late now, anyway.”

Unlucky, it’s unlucky. Kaz had looked into the Emerald Palace through the roof while he and Inej had scaled the rooftops to lead them to the Stoepker residence and seen Petjer Stoepker playing at the tables, light in his eyes and a brunette on his arm. He’d known the man wouldn’t be here—he had downed far too many drinks to even fathom walking the stretch to his mansion in the dark. He and Inej needed Stoepker to come home so they could sneak into his upstairs safe in the moment in took him to deactivate the trip wires around his garden. The job wasn’t supposed to be hard.

They could have gone back to the Slat two hours ago, when the sun had just dipped below the wintery horizon. He could have sat at his desk and kept on going through the reports fucking Per Haskell kept delegating to him while Inej went down to spend time with Jesper or sat silently at his window.

But he hadn’t. He’d known Stoepker wouldn’t come back and yet he’d forced her to stay like this next to him, just a hand’s width apart on a freezing rooftop, silent, just so he could feel her presence next to him, just so he could be next to her and tempt himself, so he could turn to her and not his paperwork. He feels distinctly stupid, and something else blossoms in his chest. He sighs and slides off the roof. Inej follows, lithe and agile with her good legs.

“Back to the Slat,” she questions, and he nods. What else is there to do? There’s always more work. Not that he doesn’t enjoy his work, the brick-by-brick. He wants something more, but he doesn’t even know what that is.

He slides till the end of the roof and then grabs his cane next to him. He doesn’t trust himself to scale Ketterdam’s roof in the pitch-dark, especially the day after a snow. Kaz doesn’t need to break his other leg. Though Inej doesn’t have to, she joins him, feet touching the ground without noise to the ear. He can feel her steps reverberate through his chest. And then something else.

He turns to her in the dark, and he can feel the blush rise to her cheeks. “I’m a bit hungry,” she admits. “Nina said we could get waffles in the middle of night. I’m late to meet her, but Jesper has probably already told her we’re out.”

Of course he’s the monster, the boy with hands caked with blood who takes her away from her good friends—the sassy heartrender who can pull her close, the flirty sharpshooter who can kiss her cheek. Kaz is jealous of Nina and Jesper, and he knows why. He can and will have everything but what they have with Inej.

He doesn’t mean to say it. He means to let her go, to tell her to meet Nina, to erase his chapter in her night. It’s what he would do if he was a better man. Instead he says, “The Finch Inn serves hutspot into the night,” and gestures for her to follow him with a glare.

Kaz Brekker is a terrible man. He can give Inej nothing, but he wants to take so much regardless. It’s a strange sort of weakness that has him lead her to the first place he ate in Ketterdam, treasure to a newly minted orphan. Perhaps a small part of him wants to erase those memories he had with Jordie, write her smile and laugh and goodness into that crevice of his mind. He is such a terrible man.

/

Kaz takes kruge out of his pocket and accepts two bowls of hutspot, placing one in Inej’s hand. She winces when the bowl touches her with a small huff of air he wants to spend the rest of his life daydreaming about, and he takes it back. He can’t feel the heat through his gloves.

They walk outside of the inn. Kaz means to walk back to the Slat with her, but Inej side-eyes their surroundings closely before nodding him towards a small alley. He follows her—he follows nobody, he is his own person, not some sort of obedient dog—he follows her onto a rickety fire escape on the side of the building. Inej scales to the top and reaches to grab the bowls from his hand so he can regrip his cane properly.

She looks into his eyes for a moment, and keeps his face straight, cruel, he’s good at that. She is never disparaged from even his worse glares, and he makes the step up.

The roof of the Inn is a bit clunky, but he navigates himself upon it well enough. Inej is seated near the chimney, as though it is warm, and he drags himself on the other side of it. This is good. There are feet between them, and their hands do not touch as she passes him her bowl.

“Thank you,” she says to him as she takes a bite, stares into the distance of the sky. She is watching the Kerch stars, shining in this dark winter night, and he is watching her. He cannot stare at the heavens, lest he be reminded that the distance between the stars is the same as the space between him and everything he wants and can never have. Her.

Kaz says nothing, just takes a bite of his own hutspot. It’s warm, a nice contrast to the chill that he is now feeling keenly in his bad leg. He refuses to groan, simply stays silent as Inej stares off into the distance. He will not ask her to start a conversation, he cannot.

“My mother used to show me constellations,” she begins, his little Suli idealist, this girl with all her hope and her stories. She reminds him of a little boy who loved omelet stands, who didn’t understand the true evil of this city of greed. “They were clearer in Ravka, when the caravans stopped in the woods. They’re so hard to see here.”

He wants more. He wishes she would laugh, he doesn’t know why. “Ravka is heavily under-industrialized. It’s why in the long-term they’ll lose the war.”

She turns to glare at him, but he can tell it’s lacking severity. He knows when Inej is truly angry at him. He’s seen the look in her eyes when he raises his voice or kills too quickly. She knows he always has his reasons, so he doesn’t understand why she acts shocked every time. She cannot still have faith in him like her precious Suli constellations.

“You’re so grim, Kaz,” she complains. “They’re beautiful.”

“They’re lights in the sky,” he says, looking at her. “Made of small amounts of metal and gases. They are terrifying.”

“How do you know all these things?” Inej asks him. “You haven’t gone to university. You know about the stars and you do maths.”

“I learn myself,” he shrugs, gives her a truthful answer. “It comes easy.”

“You are infuriating. You and the way your mind works. Shevrati,” she calls him. He hopes that is affection under her voice. He has no idea where he stands with Inej, just that even he cannot fathom the depths of himself. The depths of his desire—

That is not a thought he will finish. It is not. “I could say the same about you and your saints,” he says.

Inej shifts up against the roof. “My mother once said the stars would lead me home.”

Something cruel wants to bite its way up through Kaz’s throat. The stars watched as you were taken on a slaver’s ship and at the Menagerie. Stop having faith in these stars, in these pretty words. They are meaningless, Inej. There is just you on your feet and your knives and your vengeance. That is all. He bites it down. Inej is not him, Inej is better than him. He cannot be anything for her, but he can be better than Dirtyhands.

“Keep your eyes on the stars, then,” he says, his mouth closing around his last bite, setting the plate next to him on the roof. “Perhaps they, of all things in this world, will be unpredictable.” His words bite with sarcasm, but they are not cruel.

Inej sets her own bowl down too. “Thank you,” she repeats again, and then turns to face him, that gaze which had been observing galaxies. “Do you know much about the stars?”

“I know they’re balls of gas. They’re nothing mythical, like your sun summoners and shadow summoners would have you think. If we got close, I’d think durasts could have their fun with them.”

“It’s nice to pretend,” she says with a flush of her cheeks. “You could pretend, Kaz.”

“Pretend what, Inej?” he doesn’t need to say her name but he does, hoping she doesn’t catch the way his mouth shapes her name, like a benediction. “Pretend like your prayers go to some mythical powers beyond the sky? There is nobody watching over me.”

“You’re wrong,” Inej says. “You could pretend that balls of light floating in the sky are sacred. What’s stopping you?”

“Presence of mind.”

“Sometimes I hate you,” Inej says, absentmindedly. He knows she is joking and he doesn’t know why that still stings. He cannot say the same back. He cannot even press a lie that Inej is not important to him to his lips. He is ridiculous.

“I paid for your dinner, Ghafa,” he says. She giggles a bit at that, laying against the chimney, and then fades off. He dares to look at her again and sees her leaning against the heat, her eyes half-closed in a strange smile.

“That you did, Kaz.” She says his name so often when he speaks. He’s not sure why—perhaps it’s something she does in Suli, and she is unused to Kerch language. He thinks about teaching her how to read on his floor almost a year ago, and he wants to kill into silence and cut himself out of this sky. He’s Kaz Brekker, he needs to be better than this.

They should go. He has work to do, she should meet Nina and Jesper. They should go, but they don’t. They sit on the Inn and stare at the stars in the distance together until the sun carves itself over the horizon and reminds Kaz that this cannot be his story.

[klbwriting]

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 11

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader

Summary: Kaz has a rollercoaster of emotions kind of day

Notes: this chapter moves at a quick pace because it is mostly filler to get from one point to another, enjoy Kaz getting verbally trounced by Inej

Taglist: @mcntsee​ @amwitherspoon​

              Over the next few days Y/N kept her distance from the Dregs, even Kaz, during the day.  In the night she still snuck into his tent to sleep next to him but in the daytime, they couldn’t stand each other.  This confused the Dregs, except for Jesper, who had a pretty good idea what had happened, and he couldn’t stop himself from confronting Kaz about it.  

              “Are you crazy?” he asked Kaz after they finished up planning the job, they were taking up this weekend.  “No one has seen Rollins and suddenly you and Y/N aren’t speaking?  This insane plan is going to blow up in your faces.”  Kaz glared at him, not liking his tone.  Jesper took a step back at the look on his boss’s face.

              “Are you quite finished?” Kaz snarled.  Jesper nodded.  “You have no idea why I wanted Rollins dead and you never will, so stay out of this.” Kaz walked away irritated.  He was always irritated now, he wanted to find Y/N and be around someone who understood him, but she was in yet another meeting about the Darkling so instead Kaz just found a quiet spot to sit for a while.  He was less than pleased when Inej found him.  Apparently Jesper was sending in backup.

              “You killed Rollins,” she said simply.  Kaz didn’t answer, just waiting for her to get to the point.  “This is bad Kaz, if anyone finds the body or finds out who did it…”  She was cut off by yelling by the gate.  Someone had found the body.  They walked over and saw the charred remains being carried in on a wooden plank.  The Dime Lions were yelling for the Grisha bitch who burned him.  Kaz gripped his cane and caught the look Inej sent him.  

              “So you’re going to let her take the fall for this?” she asked.  

              “It was her idea,” Kaz muttered.  Inej shook her head sadly.

              “Kaz Brekker, always the one with the plans to get what he wants, never afraid to sacrifice for it, not even if he has to sacrifice the woman he loves.  Actually, no Kaz, you’re not capable of love, not really,” she said, walking away from him. Kaz stood frozen.  Was that really it?  He did allow Y/N to take the fall for this, he didn’t argue, he just did whatever was needed to kill Rollins and get his revenge.  He didn’t think of what might happen to Y/N in the aftermath. Would she be put on trial?  Imprisoned?  Executed? Maybe Inej was right, maybe he was incapable of love and only saw Y/N as another asset to be used how he saw fit. He looked around a little frantic now, hoping to see her, needing to see her.  Kaz started walking to where the meeting tent was, needing to make sure she was alright.

                Y/N had been in the middle of explaining a fortress that was located a few miles south of Os Alta when several of the Dime Lions stormed in, demanding her head.  I guess they found the body, she thought as she stood.  The rest of the group at the table started asking questions and Mal looked at her.

              “Did you really kill this man?” he asked, looking dubious about the accusations.  She nodded. “Why?”   Y/N took a deep breath.

              “He was a bad man, tried to hurt me, where do you think I got this shiner from?” she asked, pointing to the fading black eye and cut on her face.  “I wasn’t going to be abused by another man again after dealing with the Darkling.  I got carried away and I killed him.”  She could tell Mal didn’t believe her, he thought he knew her, but the truth was even if Kaz had backed down and left Rollins alive she probably would have killed him eventually.  He had the same eyes as the Darkling and she wanted to erase them from existence.  

              “We want her dead!” shouted Rollins second in command, Harv.  Mal held up his hands.

              “We will do this the proper way, she will stand trial for her crime.  We will see if the killing was justified,” he said loudly, calming the crowd.  The Lions didn’t like it but there were too many Grisha around that would protect one of their own for them to deal with so they agreed.  “Take her to a cell.”  

              The cells were glorified cages stuck under a canvas to protect them from rain.   Y/N sat on the small stool inside it, using her power to give her a fire to keep warm. She knew this might happen if she took the fall for Kaz’s kill, but she was willing to do it.  They wouldn’t keep her here.  Others were already coming forward and telling about how Rollins had been abusing his power, pillaging his way through the resistance, taking what he wanted or beating anyone who disagreed with him.  She would get off and be out of here within a week.  The risk was completely worth the reward.  Which is why it surprised her when Kaz showed up looking so dishelved on her second day in the cage.  

              “What’s wrong?” she asked as he sat on a seat on the other side of the bars.  He looked sick and a little frantic.  “What happened?”

              “I…I’m never going to love you the way you love me,” he said finally.   Y/N’s mouth fell open.  She couldn’t believe he was saying this.  

              “Kaz, I already told you, I don’t need you to touch me…what is this about?” she asked.  He looked at the ground and not at her.  Something was wrong, this wasn’t Kaz, this was something else.  Someone had said something to him.  “I know you can’t say it, I know that our relationship won’t be like anyone else’s and that’s alright, I’m fine with that.”

              “No!” Kaz said finally, standing.  “You did what I wanted and now you’re here.  I’m willing to do anything to get what I want and no one is safe from me.  You weren’t special, you were just easily fooled.”   Y/N shook her head again, the betrayal sinking into her chest.  She knew this wasn’t right, something was wrong. He was saying this because he was scared at what he had done, what position he put her in.  She took a breath and looked at him, walking away from her.  

              “You’re lying Kaz Brekker, I know you are!” she called out to him, not caring who heard her.  She saw him stop, tense up, and then keep walking.  

              Kaz hated what had just happened.  He had said everything he could muster to get her to think he was done with her, that he had used her and let her go.  Idiot that he was thought he could trick her like he had everyone else he had ever taken advantage of.  But no, of course she could see through his act, she saw through to his soul and even that couldn’t lie to her.  He stalked towards his tent and in a fury started smashing everything with his cane.  All his frustration and fears coming out in untamed aggression.  He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in this frenzy but by the time he was finished he had nothing left, it was all broken around him.  He didn’t notice the person staying by the open flap watching.  When he looked up and saw Mal he glared.

              “What the hell do you want?” he demanded.  Mal looked at the mess in the tent and shook his head.  

              “Well I guess I want you to stop smashing stuff, its hard to find these days,” he said.  Kaz sat down on Y/N’s bed, the only thing that had been saved from his rage.  He gripped her blanket and pretended she would be sleeping there again that night.  “What I really want Brekker is for you to explain to me what you did to Y/N that made her kill someone like that.  Skinned?  Stabbed multiple times?  Head nearly bashed in?  That’s not how a Grisha works.  That’s how a thug works.”  

              “She was doing me a favor,” Kaz said.  “But I didn’t do anything to make her that way. Playing games for you and your dead girlfriend is what made her that way.  Leaving her with the Darkling for so long, that is what turned her into the type of person who helps a murderer slaughter another.”  He saw Mal’s fists clench and unclench.  He almost wanted Mal to hit him, take out the anger that he didn’t have the strength to take out on himself.  

              “I saw your little stunt at the cell, she didn’t buy it, she knows you were lying,” he said.  “She’s going to be released any second now, too many other stories about Rollins being a heathen came up, we can’t keep someone locked up that did us all a favor.”  Kaz looked at him surprised.  She would be out and he knew she would come looking for him, get him to explain himself. How did he explain that he thought he loved her but would never be sure?  He wasn’t the type of person to value another human, just money, solid cash that he knew would never betray him.  Once again Greed had humbled him, making him see that he couldn’t have everything.  

              “Can I ask you something?” Kaz asked, focusing on the feeling of her blanket on his hand.  Mal nodded.  “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about me.”  Mal confirmed that he had.  “Can a monster like me care about someone else?”

              “Literally everyone finds at least one person to care about.  Maybe it’s a friend, maybe a child, a parent, a sibling, hell the Darkling did care about Alina in his own messed up way.  So yes Brekker, I think you have found that one person you care about above all else and eventually you will figure out how to show her properly,” Mal said.  “You just need time and practice.”  Kaz was silent, mulling over the words in his head.

              Mal turned to leave when a messenger came running in tent.

              “Sir, the Grisha we released, the Lions took her in a carriage heading south.  Someone heard them talking about dropping her off at Sarkoff’s prison as revenge for her killing Rollins,” she said, saluting.  Mal looked at Kaz who was on his feet and out of the tent in seconds.  If Mal was right he had to prove it, had to show Y/N that he did care about her, but to do that he had to get her back.  Time for a heist.

[ronans-sepiaphotograph]

I'm totally and completely bothered by the fact that there's not enough Kaz and Wylan content so as a book junkie I'm compelled to create my own-

Kaz and Wylan, our resident scheming faces and painting:

Wylan Van Eck may not be the loudest or the most outspoken of the Crows but he was observant.

So he knew who exactly was knocking on the door on the mansion just a while after Jesper had left to get the guns serviced.

Wylan was about to start working on a new canvas when he heard the door being knocked upon as he was walking towards his room.

Kaz Brekker stood in his glory, all suit, hat and his cane as Wylan opened the door.

"Hello Kaz" "Hey merchling" "I'm painting in my room"

Kaz walked through the doors as Wylan told him where he was going. It was not a schedule but it was definitely a schedule.

Wylan would paint and Kaz would silently watch him as they quietly talked, and it helped with Jesper absent sometimes because Wylan and Kaz were both not the greatest when it came to being chatty. Sure Jesper was great company, but sometimes they wanted the quiet.

Kaz walked through and over to Wylan's room with Wylan in tow and sat on his regular seat. Yes Wylan had a seat dedicated for Kaz to sit. It definitely made Wylan more nervous as Kaz watched him.

"how are things at the slat?" "Fine, it's too noisy" "you can come over here anytime you know?" "I know"

Wylan was nervous as he pulled out the package. He had been working on it for a while now. And it was scary that Kaz would be receiving it. He didn't even know whether he would like it or not.

It was a small box, and inside were six little canvases for all of them. Wylan knew Kaz often picked up little paintings he did, thinking Wylan wouldn't notice. But then Wylan would see them tucked away in his office mantle.

So Wylan had this idea of making something for Kaz. One canvas for a Crow, a member of his family. A Crow's head (Kaz), a Knife (Inej), Waffles (Nina), a white wolf (Matthias), a revolver (Jesper) and finally a flute (Wylan). He had spent hours on the little things and Jesper had found small ornamental frame to put them into. Wylan had packed them.

He was trembling and blushing by the time he slid the package over to Kaz, who was watching him with narrowed eyes.

"what's this?" "I know you take paintings from my room so I made these for you"

Kaz gave him a look and proceeded to open it, his gloved hands neatly unwrapping it. He gave Wylan a soft smile as he looked through them. He was blushing harder now.

"Do you like them?" "One of each of us" "yeah" "Thanks Wy"

The nickname made his eyes water and he looked away, wiping his eyes. Kaz tapped his cane on the floor and Wylan immediately snapped his head up. The smile was there, faint yet present.

"why are you crying?" "Nothing, just happy tears"

Kaz put the box back and sat as Wylan left to get them waffles and coffee. He had ice-cream since he was the only one besides Inej who knew Kaz had a sweet tooth. He didn't tell anyone because he prized his life.

"do you want to try your hand at painting?" "Me?" Kaz looked confused at the question as Wylan nodded. He bit into his waffle as Kaz silently thought.

"Scheming face" "I heard that" Kaz smirked at him as Wylan blushed.

"okay then, I don't think I have the skills like you do" "I'm not skilled, it's one the few things that I'm good at. And besides without these I'm wor-"

He was interrupted as the end of Kaz's cane was jabbing into his chest. Kaz glared, enough to remind him that he was still the Dirtyhands, even if Wylan looked up to him.

"you sure you want to complete that sentence Wylan?" Wylan shook his head. "Then let's get painting"

He nodded as Kaz got up and shifted closer to the desk as Wylan found them canvased to paint on. He got water and brushes and paints and rags. He got one of the old shirts for Kaz to wear.

"wear this, won't want to spoil your suit" "always the observant one" "I heard that" "I wanted you to"

Wylan turned away as Kaz proceeded to remove his coat and turned back again when Kaz prodded him. He thought he heard a chuckle escape Kaz bit probably though he was dreaming. He opened the windows fully so he could see the gardens below and the sea. It was Blue and pristine and there were seagulls flying in the sky.

Wylan squeezed out paint as Kaz made his scheming face again as he looked through the plethora of brushes Wylan had.

"How do your even choose which one to use Wy?" Wylan chuckled as Kaz gave him a look. "You should decide what you want to paint. I usually just paint the sea on the garden on sunny days and then something from memory when the days are gloomy" "the sea sounds okay*

He helped Kaz pick a brush and then pushed a palette full of paint towards Kaz as he sat beside him, maintaining enough distance. He chuckled when he saw Kaz fumble. He figured if was probably because of the gloves that he was struggling to hold the brush properly.

"I think it's the gloves that are making it difficult" Kaz scowled at him and Wylan shut up, why had he even voiced out loud? "Sorry, I didn't mean to. It'll be fine, give it a bit of time and you'll adjust"

Kaz ignored him as he thought about it. After a silent moment lapsed, he removed the glove from his hand. It came as a surprise and Wylan didn't know whether he had the right to watch so he just looked at his blank canvas. Kaz cleared his throat.

"it's much better now" "Kaz you didn't have to, I'm sorry" "It's for my own convenience and you were right, this feels much better.

Another one of Kaz Brekker's rare smiles.

Wylan smiled at him as he got to painting himself. Kaz busied himself with watching the sea and the dipping his brush in the paint. Wylan was going to paint the sea today, just with the added memory of one particular shil sailing and floating in it. The sea always made him miss Inej terribly.

Kaz groaned beside him as he dropped the brush down and leaned back and slumped in his seat. It was rare to see Kaz so out of his comfort zone.

"How do you even do this Wy?" "It has always been my escape, when I used to stay with Jan Van Eck and try to read and write. Don't think when you're painting that's all" "that's difficult" "for you, definitely"

Kaz glared as Wylan chuckled, blushing again. Kaz had draw strokes of Blue in various shades. It wasn't bad but it was evident that Kaz had no experience painting before. He gently prodded Kaz to pick up and try again, suggesting to just think about what he was trying to paint. Kaz huffed as he picked up his brush again. Wylan noticed that he held the brush a little awkwardly which would not help at all and make Kaz more irritated and without a thought put his hand over Kaz's, briefly touching as he adjusted the brush in Kaz's fingers.

And then the realisation hit.

Wylan was going to be murdered today, in his own house, by the person he had begun to consider a best friend.

Wylan trembled and pulled his hand away but Kaz turned to him and glared daggers that made him freeze. Yep, definitely going to get murdered, he thought.

"Don't you dare move Wylan"

And because he was going to get murdered he pulled his hand away and literally ran. But Kaz was quick because obviously as Wylan felt the cane latch into his shoulder, causing him to trip. He stood frozen, not daring to turn around.

"Wylan, turn around right now" he didn't. "I won't repeat" He turned around.

Kaz stood, gloved hands on his cane as he looked at Wylan.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-" "stop talking"

Wylan did. He felt red and not all over as he felt his eyes water. Kaz put his hand forward and Wylan prepared to die but then Kaz just squeezed his shoulder. Wylan's knees gave out as he sank to the floor, on his knees. He felt his tears drop. Kaz sat down beside him. He didn't dare open his eyes.

"Wy?" "Yeah?" "Look at me?"

He opened his eyes and looked at Kaz. He expected to see anger, hatred and every hateful emotion in the coffee brown of Kaz's eyes but there was nothing. Kaz was looking at him, face devoid of expression.

"It took me by surprise because it's been a while since that had happened" "I was thinking Kaz I'm-" "Let me finish. But you don't have to worry. It just caught me by surprise that's all. And I know you didn't do on purpose, I know you would never Wy. You're our observant demo expert. You know these things better than others" "okay. I'm still sorry, I'll make sure it never happens again" "okay. It felt weird though, like a funny weird, feeling that again"

This time Kaz did let out a brief chuckle. Wylan blushed. Had Kaz Brekker just chuckled? Had Wylan just made him laugh?

Wylan looked at him, wide-eyed and in shock as Kaz got up and hauled Wylan up. He then surprised him by giving Wylan a brief side hug. Wylan was going to die of happiness today. The reason? Kaz Brekker.

"You trust me?" "That's a very stupid question Wylan"

Wylan gave a him and Kaz nodded while sipping on his coffee. Obviously I do, he meant. Wylan smiled as he wiped his eyes.

He then carefully showed Kaz how to hold the brush properly so could paint with ease and soon they were painting in silence, except for the music of the birds chirping and the trees rustling outside. Wylan smeared strokes of Blue's and Grey's and then a ship appeared on his canvas, The Wraith in all her glory.

He watched Kaz sometimes, who had apparently gotten the hang of it. He looked so out of place yet at home. Kaz Brekker painting with Wylan in his room, surrounded by art supplies, Wylan would never forget this day.

Jesper had knocked on the door a bell ago but Kaz had refused to let him inside and Wylan left to greet him with a kiss

"Wylan Van Sunshine have you dumped me for Kaz?" Wylan slapped his arm "Of course not, we're just painting and Kaz, well doesn't want to be disturbed" "Ghezen's sake Kaz is painting?" "Yes, with me" "what did you do to him Wylan?" "Shut up, we'll be done in a while. Will you please wait for us in the dining room?" Wylan made puppy eyes and Jesper responded by kissing him briefly before he disappeared and Wylan was back to his canvas. It took him some time more to finish adding the details to The Wraith. Kaz was done before him and was watching him as usual which made Wylan nervous.

"you know Kaz? You make me nervous by staring like that while I paint?" "It's amusing to see the experts at work"

Wylan blushed again as Kaz cleaned up his desk and Wylan followed. Their paintings were put on the Easel to dry. Kaz's was an abstract things but it was beautiful nonetheless, a clash of blues and beige's and whites. It looked just like the sea. Wylan smiled as he put the canvases to dry.

Jesper was waiting for them in the dining room for lunch as they sat down. He was grinning at both of them.

"So Kaz, did you have fun painting? Wylan's face suggests you did" "Don't push it Jes" "Hah! That's means you did! I wi have to tell Inej that Kaz Brekker has found a new pasttime with Wylan Van Sunshine!"

Kaz threatened him with a knife but Jesper just laughed. They had lovely lunch and Jesper disappeared again to practice with his revolvers.

Kaz was leaving as Wylan handed him his hat again. Wylan saw the shirt peeking from under Kaz's coat but said nothing.

"See you Kaz" "I want to paint again Wy" "Really?" "yes really" "okay, whenever you want"

Kaz gave him a small smile again as he waved Wylan goodbye and left for the Slat again. He didn't forget to take the gift Wylan had made for him.

The next day when Wylan went to his office regarding work about the Council, he saw all six of the canvases promptly put on the mantle, besides one of his own paintings.

"They look good" was all Kaz said. Wylan's day was made.

[manikas-whims]

A Place Good Enough

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Kaz pays Inej's indenture at the Menagerie and she joins the dregs.

_

A short fic that adds a little more of what happens that night after Kaz takes her with him.

Note:

I'm a new fan and read the SoC Duology this Feb.

This is my first time writing these characters so please excuse anything weird, I tried my best.

Inej may seem a bit scared in this because she isn't the Inej we know in SoC. This will be the first fic of many where I'll try to show our Crows before the events of SoC. A look at their daily lives in the Dregs. And the slow development of feelings between Kanej.

Hope you enjoy this short piece ♥

Kaz

“Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he says, “don't ever sneak up on me again.”

And yet as he ushers the Suli girl out of the salon, the bustling streets remind him how foolish it will be to roam around the barrel at night. Ofcourse a mere glance at his cane and gloved hands is enough to ward people off. No one in Ketterdam dares crossing the young man that goes by the title of Dirtyhands. Even so, it won’t be good for his carefully crafted reputation to be seen limping around at indecent hours with an exotic girl in tow. Dirtyhands doesn’t waste time on frivolous things. He has vengeance to condemn and for that he requires proper focus and meticulous steps. Brick by brick. He reminds himself.

With a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure no one is looking, he removes the deep grey coat he’s adorning and hands it to the girl. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches at the action, probably just as scared of him as the rest of this city.

“Cover yourself.” He commands and continues walking. Thankfully, the girl doesn’t waste time being confused or shocked and quietly does as told. He also notes how she maintains a distance whilst following him but makes sure to stick close enough, her feet soundless despite the bells tied around her dainty ankles.

Inej

Kaz Brekker finally slows his walk as they approach a shabby building in the remote parts of the Barrel. Its lit and noisy but Inej can tell its definitely not a clothing store. And it is only moments later that cold realization dawns on her. There was no release from enslavement to begin with, just a deal struck between a bawd from the west stave and the lieutenant of a notorious gang in the east stave. It was a sham all along. Why wouldn’t it be? Why would one of the most sinister criminals in Kerch buy her out of slavery only to be shifted to an indenture? She should’ve been skeptical. Instead, she had been hopeful because the boy named Dirtyhands is after all, a young one like herself. She thought he may have empathized with her. He had even offered his coat to her. But oh what an utter fool she had been! Everything in Ketterdam comes with a price. Even something as natural as freedom.

Should she sprint away? She can take-off right now. He hasn’t looked back even once to check if she’s there. And he’s a cripple! She can easily outrun him. Yet all these plans formulating in her head are laced around a grim sense of fear. Kaz Brekker doesn’t need a reason. Or so she has heard. He has already earned an ill reputation for being whimsical. She mustn’t start giving him reasons to chase and drag her back down these dark alleys. So she quietly trails behind him as the door opens with a creak.

Men of varying ages who had been busy chatting and drinking, stare at them. His entry seems to raise everyone’s attention as they watch him walk by and approach the staircase. Although that’s all she sees as she continues after the uncaring boy, she does hear numerous brazen remarks.

“Am I too drunk or has Brekker actually brought in a girl?”

“Ghezen! We all must be sloshed.”

“I almost believed something was going on between him and that Zemeni boy.”

“So…Suli huh?”

Some snickers follow this particular remark but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. Does this mean their assumptions aren’t wrong? A wave of panic courses through her but Inej tries to calm herself with deep breaths, tries to focus her mind on the stairs instead. She has faced all sorts of repulsive men in the sheets. Dirtyhands can’t be much different. And even if the rumors aren’t false and he’s part-demon beneath the façade of his sharp suits,  she can still push herself to handle anything. If serving as his mistress will warrant her safety from the likes of Tante Heleen, she can do this. 

A soft clicking sound pulls her out of her trail of anxious thoughts. She notices they’ve walked past several floors and are currently going up into an attic. The inside isn’t much special but appropriately furnished— an old door placed atop several crates acting as a desk, a big window overseeing the surroundings and a door separating what she assumes must be a storage of sorts or a bedroom.

When Brekker finally turns around, his expression as unreadable as ever, Inej shivers. She takes one last gulp of air in hopes of easing herself. She can do this. She just needs to leave her body like she always does. Let the little lynx take care of such matters.

She begins by discarding his coat. Her eyes are lowered to the floor but she can sense his unwavering gaze. Maybe he’s one of those who take pleasure in watching a woman undo herself for him. Or maybe its something else entirely. His stoic demeanor doesn’t provide much to guess. Her shaky hands reach for the hooks in the back of her purple blouse. I can endure this! She mentally assures herself.

“What exactly are you doing?” comes his low voice, like a rasp of stone on stone.

Her hands fumble and come to a halt. She raises her eyelids to find a barely visible, amused smirk marring his pale countenance. “I..thought..I just–”

“Inej, was it?” he interrupts, leaning his weight on his frightening cane shaped like the head of a crow. Did she do something wrong? Will he use it on her? Her shoulders hunch slightly in preparation of whatever is to come. She hears an audible sigh instead. “I don’t remember us agreeing to such terms back at the Menagerie.”

Now she does look up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh..”

He passes a hand through his hair. “But since you seem eager to–”

“I’m not!” she yells, her cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. Frankly she doesn’t know how to react. It’s her first time speaking to a man who isn’t demanding any sexual favors from her but isn’t being very nice either.

He hobbles over to the makeshift desk and settles on a chair behind it. “Let me guess,” he starts, resting his bad leg on the tabletop and the cane in his lap. “You didn’t trust me.”

“I did!” she protests like a child  falsely accused of stealing candies. However, the embarrassment of her response follows immediately and she tilts her head down again. “Not truly but–”

“Wrong answer.” His tone is even more gritty now. “Its good that you expected the worst. Never trust anyone in the barrel.”

Inej looks at him again. It’s far too late for that lesson now. She’s learnt it the harshest of ways.

“I may be many things but I keep my word, Inej.” He adds solemnly, then fishes out a lone key from his pants' pocket. “Here” he gestures for her to come forward and receive it.

She scurries to the desk and takes it, her fingers lightly grazing along his gloved ones. Is he sending her on an errand already? Is procuring something important going to be her first task for the Dregs?

“Head downstairs and unlock the room directly below this attic with the key.” He tells simply and starts working on the tall stacks of papers lying on the desk.

She waits for further details but when he says nothing more she inquires herself, “For what?”

He glances at her, a brow quirked as if mocking her obliviousness. “Its your room from now on. Go get some sleep.”

“What about my..services?” she asks.

“We’ll discuss all that tomorrow morning.” He answers and waves her off, willing her to leave already.

Downstairs, upon unlocking an old cream-colored door and switching on the light, Inej is greeted by a tiny room. There’s a window overlooking the barrel, a cot arranged directly below it and an empty trunk lying open. Fortunately, everything is clean and dry and without any trace of smells.

As she steps inside, memories of her old life flash before her bleary eyes. This place is not even close to the large tents she used to perform in with her parents yet for some reason, she feels warm. Its not home but it’s good enough.

Shutting the door, she turns off the light and drops unceremoniously onto the cot. Moonlight illuminates the room- her room- in a dim glow. And slowly it happens. Her tense body relaxes into the mattress and her unshed emotions are set free in the form of tears slipping down her cheeks. Loud sobs rack her small frame as her hands hug the grey coat close to her chest. Amidst her shock and disbelief at actually being saved from sexual exploitation, she must have forgotten to return it. Kaz Brekker’s statement was like a dream she’s had every night since being stolen and shackled. A dream of being saved from the hell that is prostitution. I keep my word, Inej. She giggles at the sound of her real name being called by this stranger, tears staining her lips. She hasn’t heard it in so long that she almost forgot who she was. In letting her body go so as to persevere everyday at the Menagerie, she hadn’t noticed that the lively girl called Inej Ghafa was also withering away. She clutches the coat tighter as if fiercely trying to hold onto her remaining self. And for the first time since an year, she sleeps without the fear of being hurt.

Hope it was enjoyable!

I'm thinking of writing a short sequel drabble where Inej just goes to return Kaz's coat in front of everyone at the Dregs xD

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SoC Masterlist

( divider by @firefly-graphics )

[notyetbulletproof]

I do think there is a greater conversation to be had in regards to Kaz about forgiveness (of himself) and allowing himself to get the softer, lovelier, kinder things in life. I do think guilt plagues his life and has been a fixture since he survived and was “reborn” (let’s face it a large part of him had to die for him to come back) in that saintsforsaken Harbour. I think he never really confronted his grief — 1) he had no time, 2) was completely abandoned and left to die by a system where the only value one had was monetary and one’s ability to make more and 3) how could he?

Grief masquerades as many things before we admit to ourselves what it is. Anger. Vengeance. Fear. Those 3 things? They’re often way more motivating. They add purpose and give us something to work towards.

He had to build up his life brick by brick on the promise to himself and Jordie that he would destroy those who destroyed him and his. No distractions from the goal. That he doesn’t notice when love slips through the cracks - Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan, Matthias. He doesn’t realise until he lets himself realise. Kaz is honourable. The deal is the deal. He protects his own. Yes. But it’s the fact that these people become incredibly important to him so much so that he names his victories (emerald palace becoming silver six) after them. A monument to who they were and who they’ll always be—- his crows.

"Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don't forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for." — CK

Then, we have Inej. The girl he loves. The one person that is able to slip under his amour. More importantly, the one person he’s willing to try to disarm for. The one person the softer emotions become more obvious around. He wants her. He needs her. She’s essential to him. The one person he admits he’d drop every plan for revenge (legit his purpose for YEARS) he ever had if it meant she was safe. Then it’s the conversation of —- Can Kaz let himself be loved? Can he let himself find joy amidst the grief? Will he allow himself solace and reprieve? Will he allow himself to have what he desires or will his past keep dragging him back?

I keep thinking about these quotes:

“ We can endure all kinds of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”- CK

“And that’s what destroyed you in the end, the longing for something you could never have” — SOC

"I've taken knives, bullets, and too many punches to count, all for a little piece of this town. This is the city I bled for. And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it's that you can always bleed a little more." — CK

"Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste."— CK

Don’t get me wrong— I am very clear that Kaz’s touch aversion and phobias exist because of the terrible traumatic event he experienced at 9 (wtf!) years old. I am just saying that I do think it’s the psychological torture and barriers he’s put up that plays a part too. When he talks about psychologically torturing Pekka being a way better outcome —- the boy would know. How long has he done that to himself?? When Kaz is in a fight, a violent bloody, lots of people touching and kicking and just ALOT—- violence seems to help (he’s said as much). It gives him something to focus on and the pain dulls the fact that people are touching him. Being hurt, having touch be followed by pain and grief is something he is accustomed to. A learned coping strategy. Not necessarily effective but hey— it’s worked.

And then Inej. Someone, I think we can all agree kaz is so much softer for. His tell. His one weakness. And he tries to reconcile that with his harder coping strategies by rejecting any reality where it could happen for them but they keep coming back to each other. He can’t maintain the ruse with her. He can’t be Dirtyhands all the time around her. She deserves more than that.

Then it’s their desire for intimacy. For physical touch. He wants to be physically intimate with Inej. Maybe not all the way right away, let’s be fair to them both, that’s not happening yet. But he wants to touch her (if she wants that and she does). He wants to hold her and know she’s alive and present and here with him. We know that physical contact triggers the trauma response. Yep. However his want to best it to be better than this “weakness” (it’s not weakness sweets but okay) motivates him to keep trying. To be what they both want. And while Inej might not know everything about his pain, she has her own issues with touch and when he says that if she can be brave to speak those words aloud, he can be brave and move past the fear—- it’s monumental. It’s acknowledging that it’s difficult for them both but they want this and they’ll try try try.

Let’s also think about when he thinks about Inej. Beyond all that. When he talks about himself being broken and “bad” but knowing he could pull himself into a semblance of a man for her. Feeling broken and less than and then by CK knowing that he could do right by her and showing more than telling just how much he loves her.

And most of all (because this was the point I am thinking about)—- starting to really consider forgiveness. For Jordie. For himself. Starting to really review what it is he’s truly broken about. What ending Pekka will not solve. It will give him a reprieve but he needs to make the effort to break down his walls. Him holding Inej’s hand signifying a promise to her, to himself, to them, to a new future.

A promise to try. To break down the amour and to forgive himself for not “knowing better, for being a child and trusting in the kindness of people (that line always fucked me up). To break down the barriers that keep him from happiness. That keep him from letting himself be loved. From keeping everyone at a distance because even when you do that? You still lose people and in the words of other characters in other books in the universe — “you’ll mourn (us) them anyway”. Or in Kaz’s own words “And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it's that you can always bleed a little more." — CK

All this to say that I feel that as much as Kaz Brekker’s amour exists as a response to the horrors of his past. Exists as a shield to the world. Exists to protect him and his from the horrors that currently persist. I do think it also exists to prevent him from dealing with his grief. From forgiving himself and Jordie. For forgiving himself because in doing so he would have to confront certain things about his experiences that he couldn’t focus on before.

If he’s all about destruction then he doesn’t have to feel the other things that come with all he has experienced. (Honestly him thinking about Jordie and what he says to him about Jordie’s decisions leading up to their terrible loss— I was a mess).

“Was there never another dream?”—- CK.

Is the amour protection from that? What happens when vengeance is achieved?

Build something. Watch it burn?

Make a promise to support a new purpose?

Is forgiveness a huge part of taking off his amour? Yes. I believe so. And it starts with him (forgiving himself).

You were both kids. You were all kids.

[noir0neko]

Crime and Creation | m

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 15.5k

Summary: The Crow Club. One of the University of Ketterdam’s secret societies aimed at recruiting the finest students who want a taste of more than just lectures. Meet Kaz, the founder and president, whose self-made millions come from his dealings on Wall Street. Nina, a girl who is aching for more than the fortune and husband her family has laid out for her. Inej, whose observant nature and ability to be invisible makes her the perfect spy. Jesper, a childhood friend of Kaz’s who can’t resist getting into a little trouble joined by his boyfriend, Wylan, son of the University dean. And Cataleya, an Upper West side journalism major who has a special way with words. When Kaz finds out the Crow Club’s dealings have been infiltrated by an unknown rival, his crew enlists the help of outsiders to ruin reputations, throw lavish parties, and do what the New York City Crows do best: heist. Until something goes very wrong. 

Characters: Cataleya (OC), Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Alina Starkov, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov, Aleksander Morosova and honorable Leoni mention.

Warnings: Death. Highly detailed emotion and inner thoughts that have memories of parental abuse and self harm, nothing very detailed. Mentions of murder, drugs, and illegal activity. General debauchery and scheming. Some romance, mostly implied, light kissing, fondling, and the use of expletives.

A/N: You do not need to have read any of the books in this world to understand this fic! I spent so much time and poured my heart and soul into this story and the development of my original character and building these characters into a new, modern world. Please read it and give me your thoughts! This piece was written for the @grishaversebigbang. Also, check out the art work made for my fic by these amazing artists: @corpsecro, @nantosuelta-art, @discountscoobygang, @lady-ekatherina-de-mika and @mikanviola! It is such an honor to be a part of something like this and I had so much fun! I encourage anyone and everyone to read the Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone series by Leigh Bardugo! It’ll be on Netflix soon!

I used to love cats. 

Until one showed up dead on my window sill. 

I’m still not sure how it got there. Perhaps it climbed the fire escape and lept from the metal railing onto the ledge. But once the animal had the orange pollen and poisonous petals of the lilies sticking out of my window in its mouth, it was only a matter of time before it died. I had the good sense to keep my crying quiet, at eleven years old, so that my father would not stumble in to yell or push the cat hundreds of feet to the street below. I did not know he was already gone. That I was alone.

I hid the orange tabby in my backpack and went to bury her in the backyard garden the next chance I got. 

But when I used my small children’s shovel to dig into the earth, soft from the recent rain, it wasn’t what I went to bury that changed my life. But what was already buried there. And right then, with my cheeks stained with tears and hands shaking with anger, I swore to never stop hunting. To never stop chasing the people who ruined me. 

That was one promise I kept. 

I haven’t kept many others. 

Sitting in the foyer with the rest of the Crows, wind coming in from the autumn afternoon and the scent of freshly made waffles mixing with dusty books, I don’t know if I can keep this one either. Kaz looks at me pointedly, waiting for me to answer. I glance at all of them, Nina, Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. It is rare that anyone outright refuses Kaz on anything, especially not with his position or to risk the weight of his disapproval. Nina once told Kaz to go to Hell and she paid for it with two weeks of silence and banishment from the Crow Library until she relented to do her assignment. 

Jesper clears his throat, trying to relieve the awkward vibe getting thicker with each passing moment of silence. I can’t help but allow a small smile to reach my lips, grateful for him trying to save me from the tension that I could slice with a knife. Swallowing and meeting Kaz’s dark eyes, I sigh. 

“Fine,” I relent. “I’m in.” 

The strain dissolves from the space and the other Crows break into smiles and start to chatter. Relaxing back in my chair, I watch Inej spring up and take her place next to Kaz, her lithe frame complimenting his perfectly. Kaz moves around his large oak desk, gaze fixated on something in the distance. Definitely scheming face. Best to wait it out until he speaks first.

The Crow Library is lit with the afternoon sunlight, warming the leather of our chairs and illuminating the dust gathering along the rows of books. Shelves line the walls beneath the window, behind Kaz’s study area, and underneath the stairwell, which leads to an upstairs reading room and parlor area. Nobody has bothered to read any of the books, weathered and dusted with age, but they lend the room an air of sophistication and a homey comforting smell. Kaz’s desk is littered with papers, the dark wood barely visible beneath the jumble of stock investment deals, new heists, and class assignments waiting to be done. On the front face of the desk, a large crow is carved into the surface, black and red paint covering the indentations in the wood. 

Inej puts a tender hand on Kaz’s forearm, her lips moving quickly and silently, as if whispering to him. Inej has her hair down today, an unusual occurrence from her braided coil, and the dark strands spill like silky oil over her shoulders and her waist. She must have come from the studio, sweat still gleaming on her brow and black leotard disappearing beneath dark navy leggings. Her lithe frame seems to be floating, always so modest and reserved, yet her brown eyes are intuitive and unrelenting as she studies Kaz. She has been with him since the founding of the Crow Club, never missing a beat between helping him, chastising him, watching out for him, and caring for herself all the same. It’s no wonder she’s been able to double major in both Global History and Ballet, two completely different worlds, but complimenting each other perfectly for Inej. 

And Kaz. What an interesting man he’s proven to be. 

Business major. Self made millionaire. First student to be admitted into the University of Ketterdam - UOK for short, without a full high school education. A man full of mysteries. 

Jesper moves to perch himself on the arm of Wylan’s chair and adjusts his Queen shirt, the old black leather groaning under his weight. Jesper says something quietly to his boyfriend before running a hand through Wylan’s curly red hair and kissing his pale pert nose. Jesper has his hair buzzed short to his scalp, dark arms lean with muscle and legs long, his jeans riding up at the ankles to reveal bright yellow socks and black high tops. Wylan releases a wide smile, looking up at Jesper with untamed admiration. Wylan has on a pair of pressed dark wash jeans, his collared shirt maroon red with small white dots, accentuating his bright hair and pale skin. 

It just reminds me of blood. 

They are quite a pair. Wylan, being the son of the University dean and Jesper, one of the most intelligent and talented students in the Economics department. He is studying Game Theory, an extremely intense and complicated subject full of strategy, confidence, and risk: coincidentally Jesper’s three favorite words. 

Wylan, much to his father’s chagrin, is an Art History student with a hidden passion for chemistry and physics. I often find him gazing at the long since forgotten portraits on the walls of the Crow Library upstairs, reminiscing of a different time, of discovery and excitement. Of different people with different secrets. Wylan usually seems lost in thought, often internally reflecting rather than being outwardly vocal like the rest of the Crows. He is another mystery, especially because of the tenuous relationship he has with his father. 

Jesper’s brown skin glimmers in the sun, inclining his eyebrows in mischief before taking a toffee from the bowl next to him and flinging it across Wylan’s chair to Nina. 

Her tongue flicks out as it hits her arm, thick lips smirking before unwrapping the plastic wrapper and popping the candy in her mouth. Nina is one of the only Crows who was forced into attending the University of Ketterdam. Her parents, with her father being an extremely rich and powerful Russian politician and her mother, an aristocratic woman supposedly descending from ancient Russian royalty, had been raising Nina to marry a high ranking Scandinavian commander since she was eleven. The marriage was supposed to secure better relations between the two nations, as well as provide Nina with a life of security, wealth, and status for her and her children. All her parents want for her. 

In true Nina fashion, this is unacceptable. 

Her family said the marriage could wait if she wanted to go to school and get a degree, which may better serve her husband and their families prestige in the future. Seeing no other viable option, especially because she did not want to marry a “white haired barbarian” as she called her husband-to-be, she enrolled in a prestigious university as far away from Russia as she could get. Despite her parents beliefs that she is a culinary student - “because a good wife knows how to cook”, according to her parents, Nina has been studying Performing Arts and Theatre. A perfect major to fit her personality and her beauty, with her tall, curvy frame and piercing green eyes. Today, she is wearing an olive bodysuit, the neck low cutting and her legs hugged by a pair of black flare jeans. Casual and entrancing. Her style seems to change depending on her mood, from modest foreigner to vivacious party girl to preppy student. New each day. 

“We will need others,” Kaz mumbles to Inej, furrowing his dark eyebrows in thought. 

I have only been with the Crows for a few months, but I already know how unusual that is. Kaz rarely asks for help, especially from those outside of the Crow Club. But whatever he has planned seems to be a lot more serious than the other jobs, more personal than merely ousting insider trading, or infiltrating various museums and mansions, or spying on the Upper East and West Side elite to gain intel and use it to our advantage. 

Each of us has a unique purpose to Kaz. His investments. And while it has been easier to see where the others’ talents fit in, I am still baffled by my own. I adjust the sleeves of my lavender shirt, the ruffled material smooth on my shoulders. 

I had known the Crow Club existed before I set foot on campus. As a journalism major, secrets have always intrigued me. Not just the secrets. The challenge of uncovering them, of working from the inside to reveal some of the deepest and darkest parts of humanity. I had always heard whispers of the club amongst the Upper West side elite, whispers about Kaz Brekker and his Crows. Always watching. Always ready to catch you red-handed. But I didn’t even need to go out of my way to find the Crow Club.

Kaz found me first. Called me an asset. He and Inej invited me to join starting the summer before my second term. I have surprised myself by warming up to the rest of the Crows so quickly, even the ones who aren’t active members and are just extra recruits for Kaz to call if he needs them. We all mean something here, we all have a purpose, more than what the world is trying to force upon us.  

A family. Especially since most of ours are broken or nonexistent. 

After a few minutes of waiting, Kaz snaps to attention and we follow suit, like trained soldiers, eager for him to share whatever small slice of his plan that he decides to. His crisp suit is pure black, a small crow brooch pinned to his lapel. The shaved hair on the side of his head is beginning to grow out, the top slicked back with a deep, oaky smelling gel. He always looks like he is dressed for a business meeting, even when it’s just us. Inej always muses that there is an irony to it, but how, I don’t know. I suppose everything is business to Kaz. 

“Okay,” he begins, voice gruff and deep. “This is what we’ll do.” 

----

Nina and I weave our way through the busy streets, blessing the cool wind as it kisses our faces in the dying summer heat. Her hair is down, the sun illuminating the many shades of brown running through the waves and her dress is high on her thighs, the red cotton fabric hugging the curves of her waist. Being in America has done wonders for Nina, brightened her complexion, improved her spirit, and turned her from a wafer-thin girl to a full-bodied, thick thighed woman. Everywhere she goes, people stare. She is otherworldly, like a saint on Earth. 

“Where did Kaz send us this time?” Nina complains, sucking the dripping strawberry ice cream from her fingers before chucking the cone into a nearby trash. 

“He didn’t,” I grin, dodging a guy with suspicious looking flyers on the sidewalk. “He gave us his card and very vague instructions to find a wardrobe for the event.” 

Nina’s eyes sparkle, cleaning off the rest of her fingers before she entwines her elbow in mine. New York City seems to breathe with our every step, the wind moving, the heat unfurling, and the trees swaying. Taxis and cars whiz by on the avenue, the honking of horns and the laughter of tourists crossing into Central Park filling the air. Everything about New York is alive, even the concrete holds stories it’s waiting to tell. 

“Then let’s go down Fifth,” Nina begins, mischief in her tone. “I know a few places.” 

“I bet you do,” I flash her a smile, crossing the street so we walk parallel to the park. 

We trek down the street, stopping into a macaron shop in the Plaza Hotel to get a bright blue bag full of sweets for us to eat on our journey. Nina and I are bouncing on our heels, excited to have a day to ourselves, away from the Crow Club and the University and being responsible for buying dresses for not only ourselves, but for Inej, Alina, and Zoya, as well. 

Kaz had three extra students brought in for this assignment, all a part of the secret network of Crows that don’t sit in regular meetings. First is Alina, who has an international reputation for rebuilding schools and orphanages across the world since she was thirteen, and who has been a Crow since her first step onto campus. She transferred here as a graduate student from some extremely prestigious school in California to complete her PhD and teaching credentials. Every time I have seen Alina, she has been so kind and so helpful, always eager to teach, serve, and build in any way she can. It’s beyond me why she wants to be a part of these operations. Maybe every good girl has a naughty streak. 

Zoya, on the other hand, seems like the opposite of Alina. A close friend, confidant, and suspected girlfriend, of another one of Kaz’s network of Crows, Zoya is an overly intelligent, intimidating, and obscenely beautiful law student. Her hair is always smooth, a jet black slate against her back and her eyes are always piercing, judging and observing in their ice blue. Her skin always looks perfectly tanned, a deep brown that makes the pink of her lips more enticing. Her grades are pristine, her ability to argue is unparalleled, and if there were ever a force to be reckoned with, it is her. It’s a lot more obvious to understand why she agreed to join the Crows, for the prestige, the knowledge, the power. But truly puzzling, is her relationship with Nikolai. 

Nikolai, or Nik, as I like to call him, is one of the best - and funniest, Crows. Clever, self-deprecating, friendly, handsome, the list goes on. His blonde hair is a shaggy mop of artsy goodness, his skin is creamy, his style completely unmatched and his wealth bottomless. Nik and Kaz are always butting heads; most of the time it’s the only comedic relief the Crow Club has when they’re together. Nik met Zoya during undergrad, in a political science course, where apparently their discussions were lively enough to earn them A’s and lengthy enough to last entire class sessions. Nik has one of those family names that are revered in every elite social circle, making him an obvious addition for Kaz’s team and from what I have gleaned from Nik, he decided to join the Crows to give him something interesting to do besides follow in his father’s footsteps. I wish I wanted to be a Crow out of boredom. 

“God,” Nina groans, shoving her phone back into her five thousand dollar purse. “If I get one more message from my parents asking if I’ve heard from that white-haired, rule-following, stick-up-his-ass, Scandinavian inbred, I am going to drown my phone in the Hudson River.” 

“Wow,” I clap for her, avoiding the incredulous gapes of tourists at her language. “So many adjectives and I don’t even think you’ve ever said his name.”

A man opens up the glass doors to Bergdorf Goodman’s, where cool air and white marble greet us. Immediately, we drift to the dress racks, combing through all of the latest trends.

“Matthias,” she almost growls. “His letters are so proper, telling me that he has heard of my exemplary womanly skills from my parents. That he would delight to see my drawings and sewing and hear me play the piano. It’s ridiculous. I don’t do any of those things by choice.” 

I stifle a laugh. “He seems very… traditional.” 

“Seems?” She throws her hands up, shoving a silk dress back onto the rack with too much force. “He is the definition of the word! And worst of all, he’s attractive! He has snow white hair and is built like one of those huge wrestler guys that people watch on TV.” 

“Why is that a problem?” 

“Because his complete lack of competence makes him a barbarian! A man who thinks the perfect wife is silent and docile. He’s going to have another thing coming when I show up.” 

“He comes from old money in an old country,” I begin, wondering whether I need to tread lightly. “Don’t you think he’s just taught to think that way?” 

She sighs, holding up a stunning evergreen gown against her figure. “I know he is. That’s what’s even worse. I know that everyone where he is from has been taught those values. So even if he came to love me, to understand me, no one on the outside would. His station, his reputation, his fortune, all of it is dependent on how I perform. How I reflect him.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair,” I muse, holding out another red silk dress for her. 

“Money isn’t fair.” 

I blink, surprised at her words. Money is just an object. It has no preference, no deference, no opinions. But I guess the idea of money is more important and tangible than the paper itself. Money has value and expectations beyond the faces staring back at you from the press. It expects manners, it breeds tradition and hierarchy and perfect wives who aren’t allowed to make any. I wonder if Nina will end up bending to those wills, to the one’s she has been raised to. America is such a different place, but I guess money everywhere is the same. It controls you. 

“This.” 

I turn around, face breaking out into a huge smile at the dress Nina is holding. It is a deep purple, with sheer shoulder sleeves and a deep plunging neckline covered in diamond flowers. The waist is cinched, belted by more glittering gems, before it falls and flows in layers of purple silk and satin to the floor, flowers and vines curling around the skirt. Nina’s hair and eyes and skin would look angelic in the dress. I nod fervently, unable to cap my smile as she waves over an employee to open the dressing room. 

While in the dressing rooms, Nina and I talk through the divider. 

“Where was Wylan off to earlier?” I ask, taking off my clothes and folding them neatly on the small leather bench. “He never really seems to be around these days.” 

“Yeah,” Nina says, with a grunt. “He’s been trying to rekindle his relationship with his father, studying a lot. You know, the usual dysfunctional family stuff.” 

I laugh. “My family wasn’t dysfunctional in that way.” 

“I would say you were lucky,” Nina begins and I can hear her zipper up as mine does. “But I know you weren’t.” 

At the same time, we step out of the dressing room, identical smiles breaking open our faces before we clasp our hands together and squeal with happiness. The dresses look perfect, we look perfect, everything looks perfect. 

And now we just have to find dresses for Alina and Zoya. 

With these price tags, Kaz is going to regret lending us his credit card. 

----

“Something Kaz Brekker doesn’t know how to do,” I tease a few days later,“drive.” 

He shoots me a healthy side glare, uncurling his fingers from around the steering wheel. The sun is shining through the left side of the car, illuminating his high cheeks and arched brow bones with dazzling light. If Kaz weren’t so… him, I’m confident he would have made an amazing Calvin Klein model. Especially because his lips are always relaxed in a bit of a natural pout and his resting stance is so relaxed, yet also confident. He is striking. 

And he doesn’t belong to me. Nor do I think he ever will. 

Despite their claims and attempts to put distance between their relationship, it has become common knowledge in the Crow Club that Kaz and Inej are a package deal. And it doesn’t take a trained Journalism major to read between those lines. It is blindingly obvious in the subtle ways she touches him, the way his gaze softens when he looks at her. She is the ice to his fire, and when needed, he is the same for her. A complimentary pair in every way, even if it seems unlikely on the surface. 

“Okay,” I begin, gesturing to the automatic gears between us. I explain what each of the letters stand for, instructing him to move the clutch into reverse and slowly ease up on the brake. With a bit of a jerk, Kaz obeys, turning the wheel to back us out of the spot in the empty parking lot. It had taken a bit of a road trip to find this place outside of the city. I had driven Kaz and myself into New Jersey, where the early morning dawn had just begun to crest, giving our driving lessons an advantage. Kaz had immediately, and somewhat reluctantly, urged me to teach him, claiming we would need it for this assignment. Inej had pushed him along with the conversation, rolling her eyes at how his own pride blocked up his request. 

“Now go back into drive,” I say, lurching forward when he does and pushes his foot down too forcefully on the gas pedal. He turns in circles around the empty lot, taking care to avoid the lamp posts. On every straight away, Kaz seems to hit the gas with a little more force, graceful turns giving way to concussion-inducing races. It seems he has the turning part down, but the lurching and jerking of the car would get him pulled over quickly. 

And although Kaz will no doubt be having a new fake I.D. made by one of our extra Crows, the risk of involving a police officer is not one any of us want to take. 

“Slow down there, Nascar.” I laugh.

He eases up, taking his time to get used to the ebb and flow of the vehicle. Where he got the car is beyond me, but I am also beyond questioning Kaz’s ability to secure random and often, complicated, objects for our heists. He has become my biggest puzzle, my biggest mystery to solve. And if it hasn’t been one hell of an adventure trying to figure him out. Observing him and listening and learning his subtle tells when he is angry or pleased or scheming. Lately, though, it feels as if the obsession for uncovering his truths have blossomed into something else, something that makes my heart race a little faster and my palms sweat. Something I haven’t been able to control. And how I hate not being in control. 

“Turn out onto the street,” I instruct, forcing myself to speak and get out of my own head. 

He obliges, the car absorbing the bumps in the curb as Kaz makes a graceful right turn. His black gloves glide smoothly along the steering wheel, the sleeve of his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his pale wrist. My mind begins to wander again, to whether or not Inej has touched them, if she has held his wrists down as she gracefully slid on top of him. I wonder if she has kissed him, if he whispers her secrets to her like some sort of sexy spy pillow talk. 

“Cataleya,” Kaz is saying, the four syllables of my name like chimes from his mouth. 

“Sorry,” I shake my head, swallowing and casting him a glance. “What?” 

“Where are we going?” He repeats, monotone and bored. 

His driving has already gotten smoother, his feet steady on the brake and gas as I tell him to pull onto the dirt on the side of the two-lane road and turn around. There are still no cars out here at this hour, an Amtrak just beginning its morning route on a station in the distance. I can see the outline of the city beyond the valley, half blocked by trees and tall grass. The skyscrapers are haloed by the rising sun, like a safe haven calling me back home. 

“Who taught you to drive?” Kaz says, his raspy voice surprisingly light. 

“A friend I had growing up,” I reply, surprised.

“That’s a nice friend,” he comments, voice taking on an edge I don’t understand. 

I snort. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have any family to do it.”

His hands tighten on the steering wheel ever so slightly and if I weren’t observant I probably would have missed it. The way he tenses up. The way his jaw clenches and the car begins to move a bit faster as his foot locks onto the gas. “Me either.” 

“I found my mother dead.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize it. Kaz’s gaze shifts a bit, but he keeps his focus on the road as I continue. “I went to bury a dead cat in my mother’s old garden. We never touched it, my father never tended to it, or let me, after he said she left us. But when I went out to the garden and began to dig, I lost track of time, I dug far deeper than I intended. My father wasn’t home, I wanted to be there, in that garden, and away from him if he came home, for as long as possible. I didn’t realize how far I had dug until,” I swallow, inhaling and turning to Kaz. “Until a hand began to form beneath the dirt, and then an arm, and I saw the wedding ring, the bruises, the blue of her dress…” 

Kaz’s lips part, the only admission of emotion he gives. 

“The coroner said she had been dead for four months. Four months,” my voice broke, splintered on the fragments of my memories. “That she had been beaten and buried there. They couldn’t… couldn’t prove it was my father. He had money, lots of it. And he paid a lot of people to keep quiet.” 

“Is that why you love journalism?” Kaz asks, slowing the car to ready his turn back into the empty lot. “Exposing them? Making them pay with more than their blood money and with plain blood?”

I inhale, lips curling back in more of a snarl than a smile. “Everyone I knew. Everyone I knew who was involved. I have made them pay. In some form.” I throw Kaz a true smile, a devilish gleam in my eyes. “Although I suppose you already know that. It’s why Inej noticed me in the first place.” 

“One of the many reasons,” Kaz replies, words back to being clipped, tight. 

With a smooth arc of the steering wheel, Kaz turns the car into the same spot as before, hitting a little too hard on the brake before coming to a stop. My hair moves in front of my face at the jolt, a blessed curtain separating me from him. I can feel him thinking, churning over my words, assessing me. 

Kaz hardly seems fazed as I peek at him around my hair. His dark eyes are far away, his gloved hands slack on the wheel. I still myself, hearing the purr of the car engine, hearing Kaz’s breathing, shallow and uneven, as he goes into the place he so rarely dives. His eyes are almost glazed, like he’s been drinking, completely lost in his own thoughts. I know some of his story already. From Nina. From Jesper. From my research. 

“Your brother,” I murmur, soft and low. 

His hands tighten on the wheel until they are bone white, staring straight ahead at the tree lined landscape. “Jordie,” he pushes through his teeth. “His name was Jordie.” 

My spine straightens. Kaz has never said anything about his brother, and has never allowed any of the Crows besides Inej into his life in this way. And I wonder how far he has even let her in. I swallow, questioning if I should press or let it be. I am just about to get out and switch places with him to take us back into the city, when he opens his mouth and to my bewilderment, continues to speak. 

“My parents were mixed up in some bad stuff before we came here. We lived in the countryside, with a bit of land and no one around us for miles. My brother was older than me, only by four years, but enough to know how to keep me from looking where I shouldn’t. From keeping me happy and sheltered.” A muscle flickers in Kaz’s jaw, his pale skin going ashier with each word, “I didn’t know what was happening when they came. The thugs my parents had been hopping between towns, cities, and states to avoid for over a decade. Jordie took me, the remaining cash from the safe, that my father had stolen, and fled to New York City. He hoped we would be invisible among so many people.” 

I don’t know I am holding my breath until I release it, low and shaky. Kaz is silent again, staring off, flexing and unflexing his fingers against the steering wheel, like a silent reminder that he is here. 

“Are they alive?” I ask, voice so silent it’s almost nothing. 

“I don’t know,” Kaz admits. “But we never heard from them. I’ve never heard. So I can only assume not. And I don’t think I would want to see them if they were.”  

“And Jordie…?” I venture, terrified to hear more, but also terrified he’ll clam up. I am desperate for more. Desperate to know him. 

“We weren’t safe here. They found us. Or, found Jordie. While I was gone.” Every single syllable from his lips are forced and painful, laced with self loathing and regret. Survivor's guilt. “I was supposed to be there, but Jordie had sent me away. On an errand down in Brooklyn. He knew we were trapped, and wanted me to live, if he couldn’t. If Jordie could convince them he was alone and I had been shipped somewhere else... ” He breathes in and out, slowly and deeply, focusing on some point in the distance. “They ruled it as a suicide. He had cut his own throat, only his DNA on the knife, only his blood… I don’t know if he did it before they came. Or if they staged it. The not knowing. The guessing. That’s what makes it worse.” 

“So you look for control in other places.” I say. “In the market. In investment. In the Crows. I do the same thing.” 

“The Crows stand for the same thing you do, Cataleya.” Kaz says, looking at me with an intense stare. “Exposure. We want things to be different. We want people to pay, truly pay, for what they have done. Instead of buying silence. Buying lies. We want the truth. Only the truth.” 

His words pierce me, his black hair stark against his forehead, shaved sides longer than he normally keeps them. His eyebrows are set in a hard determined line, lips closed, and jaw locked in determination. I know he made those people pay, the ones who took his brother from him. I can see it on his face. 

“How did you survive?” I begin, “without him?”

Kaz licked his lips and let out a low chuckle. “Our money was gone. But we knew some people. Kids we met on the street. They made me a fake to get into bars with; I was barely sixteen by that time, but I looked older. Rougher. I had a skill for counting cards and made a small fortune quickly by playing in run down joints and eventually, working my way into larger, more expensive establishments. It was hard, I lived and breathed revenge, for Jordie. I wanted to have him back. To have something that was mine. I built up a small fortune, studied the market, and began investing. By the time I applied to the University of Ketterdam it didn’t matter that I only had my GED and no family, my self-made fortune was enough.” 

“But why here?” I ask, furrowing my brows in confusion. “Why school at all?” 

Kaz continues to look at me, eyes blazing. “Because we had a dream. Jordie and I. We had a dream that we would never forget what happened. That we had to run. And that when we were older, more settled, we would build something here. In New York City, something that would last. Something with a legacy. Like Crows, Jordie had said, symbolizing death but themselves being alive. We were dealt bad luck and would bestow it on others who deserve it.” 

“Thus, The Crow Club,” I finish his sentence, gaze roaming his face. “A secret society at one of the world’s best universities that would have a legacy. Have prestige. Have a family.” 

“Something that is mine,” Kaz’s lips part, wet from his tongue. 

“Yes, yours.” I echo. 

We are both silent for a few moments. Weighing our words. Our truths. Even the trees outside seem to stop in the wind, leaves quiet and branches unwavering. Kaz has opened up in a way I have never seen before. Never expected. He has been through so much. So much like me. Dealt with death. Loss. Life. We aren’t so different. None of the Crows are. 

“What about the others?” 

“Those aren’t my stories to tell,” Kaz responds, voice returning to its detached state.

I nod, once, accepting. I know a few of them already. Nina. Wylan. The new recruits. But Inej and Jesper are mysteries. Complete and whole geniuses shrouded in questions. I don’t like questions. Especially ones I can’t answer. 

“How did you survive? With him?” Kaz’s voice rings again, reflecting my earlier question. His words are too big for the small car, inhaling deeply through my nose as a small smile graces my lips. His long fingers move the shift into reverse to back out of the spot to drive us back to the city himself. The true test of his skill on the Manhattan streets.  

“That friend. The one who taught me how to drive,” I reply, a bit of wistful nostalgia filling my tone. “He helped me. Took care of me. Looked after me.” 

“Past tense?” He inquires, feet smooth as he presses on the gas pedal. 

“We are still friends,” I say. “I think. Things are just… different.” 

“Different. That’s an understatement.” He replies, voice drenched with irony. “Everything is different, isn’t it, depending on how you look at it.”

I nod and laugh, giving him a compliment on how swiftly he picked up driving before we settle into a comfortable silence. Crows. Allies. Friends. If we can call ourselves that. 

I hope we can. 

----

Today, I am supposed to meet the enemy. 

Kaz told me yesterday he set up a rendezvous at one of the campus coffee spots and that there would be someone waiting for me there. Someone he wouldn’t name. Someone that I am supposed to gather information from. Someone who thinks we are on a date. 

I had almost hit him when he pulled up his phone to show me the fake dating profile that was made for me. Pictures of me smiling, laughing, most of them pictures I didn’t even remember taking, all glowed brightly at me, accentuated by a bio that said I liked my men tall, dark, and tortured. 

How cliche. 

“Nina made it,” Kaz had shrugged then returned his phone back to his pocket. 

“And you would be surprised by how many matches you made,” Inej’s voice was laced with humor, lilting into the room without a trace. 

“She’ll walk you over,” Kaz said, gesturing around the room to her unknown location. “Like any dutiful girl would for her best friend about to go on a date from an app. Then, you’ll just need to proceed as normal. Ask him about his life, his job, his degree, his connection to UOK. All the basics. The main concern is reading him out for a vibe, his family has had a lot of influence in some shady shit and he’s from another society here.”

So that’s what this was about? Some sour deals that probably put Kaz out of some easy money and a rival society that was challenging Kaz’s position in the control of campus secrets and his standing legacy? I don’t feel like that is the whole story, but that’s all that Kaz was willing to give me at the time. 

And he hadn’t said anything this afternoon when I had gone into the Crow Library to meet Inej. He acted like nothing ever happened, like he hadn’t revealed some of his darkest secrets to me. Like we hadn’t shared a moment of… something. He barely looked at me from his desk, hair rumpled and face flushed from stress, in my tight long sleeve dress and tights, combat boots laced up around my ankles in case this random guy got the wrong idea. 

The air outside had turned to autumn, giving us an unusually cold and windy day. I was puttering around and trying to think of something to say to Kaz, when Inej came down the staircase with silent feet, dressed in a pair of black leggings and a cream knit sweater. Her hair had been mused in the back and her face also looked a bit red. I had almost laughed, looking between her flushed state and Kaz’s slightly red cheeks, before giving Inej a knowing quirk of my eyebrows. 

And now, outside of the library and alone, walking across the cobblestoned campus paths with autumn leaves falling around us, I turn to her. “Do I even want to know?” 

“It’s college,” she replies, so quiet it’s almost to herself. “Things happen.” 

“Things don’t just happen with Kaz Brekker.” 

She looks at me, face breaking out into a blinding smile that splits her beautifully baked face. “They do when he’s in a rather… compromising position.” 

“Inej!” I release the laugh I’ve been holding, the now pulled back coil of her hair showing off the reddened tips of her ears. Since I have known of Inej, she has always been rather modest. Sure of herself in a quiet way. The kind of confidence that doesn’t need reassurance or shields. Inej herself is a shield, a force of silent secrets she keeps hidden beneath the unsuspecting lithe of her dancer’s frame. 

We take a right turn down one of the main campus paths, small walkways opening up into a large courtyard. Students mill about, sitting on statues, kissing underneath the garden archways, reading books on their way into classes. The University of Ketterdam has always been such an eclectic place, not only because of its location in New York City, but because of its campus. Lush, green, beautiful. An ode to history and architecture and modernity all the same. The programs here are some of the best in the world and while tuition isn’t cheap, the value of a Ketterdam degree is worth it. 

“Is it bad that I kind of do want to know though?” I begin, not even sure what I’m saying. 

“No,” Inej says, voice thoughtful and not defensive in any way. This is why I love Inej. So honest and unafraid. “I think everyone wants to know about Kaz. Everyone wants to be the hero that solves the mystery or the lover that turns a prince from darkness.” She pauses, looking around at the students, seeming lost in thought. Her dark eyebrows crease together, as if in thought or sadness. “Some people just can’t be saved.” 

I can tell she’s referring to Kaz. But I’m not sure if I agree. I think everyone can be saved. I think darkness lives in everyone and all a person needs is a bit of light to show them through. People weren’t born into darkness, or evil, they were made that way. Through that, they could be unmade. And Inej has enough light and strength in one of her hands to see any person through the blackest of tunnels. I think of what Kaz had said to me, in the car, about his story, about his desire for revenge. For retribution. Maybe I want to believe we can be saved from the darkness because I want to be saved. Because like calls to like. And there is a deep chasm within Kaz that sings to me. 

Inej moves her head to look at me, a full and unabashed gaze that somehow makes me uncomfortable. Like she can see straight to my soul. Like she can see every lie I have told or every promise I have broken or every secret I have kept. Like she can see my desires and my shame and my longing for things I can’t have.

“But we love them anyway, don’t we?” She finishes, giving me a contemplative look. 

I think of the people I love, the people I did love, when there were still people in my life that were capable of receiving such a thing; people who were dark and painful and I still loved them anyway. Love can be such a blinding thing. Blinding and binding. 

“Yeah,” I echo, her reflective tone rubbing off onto my voice. “We do.” 

The both of us descend into silence as we continue to walk across the quad. I begin to feel my stomach turn, my palms sweat. No matter how many times I have done this, not dates, but encounter new people, this feeling returns. Every time I have to meet someone new, report on something, present something for a class, I would feel anxiety grip my insides and twist. When I was younger, that anxiety was terrifying, it made me cower, it made me scared. But as I got older, I began to use it and cling to it. I began to form it into an entity that gave me courage instead of taking it, something that would ground me to myself and propel me into my fears. 

Inej begins, “Kaz texted and said he’s outside. Reading. Good luck.” Then she’s gone.

Steadying my breath, the smell of coffee hits my nostrils as I round the library steps to the small path beside it. The coffee shop is nestled into the side of the huge, brick building, almost like a tumor sprouting from the side. Inej has completely disappeared, only leaving the familiar scent of herbs in her wake. She is supposed to be going up the library steps to find a good vantage point from one of the many windows facing the coffee shop on the building’s side. Students move around through the cafe windows, in and out of the doors, little bell ringing to signal both arrival and departure. 

But I am not paying attention to any of them. 

Because there is a boy. A man. Sitting at one of the tables outside, his long legs stretched underneath the opposite chair, wearing a pair of leather sneakers. His long fingers are thumbing through a novel, covers worn and pages yellow with age. He can feel someone there, looking, sitting up and turning in that little metal chair to see who. To see me. 

It’s Alek. 

I blanch, mouth going dry and jaw slackening. I know him. I more than know him. I- 

“Cataleya,” his voice is pure night, laced and dripping with stars. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, not even phased. Not that I have ever seen him look surprised. I flash back to that day in the garden, to his hands on my face, wiping my tears, to his arms around me, murmuring condolences, to the face that I could see through my blurred tears. Dark hair, pale skin, beautifully big gray eyes. I had barely known him, barely seen him despite our houses being right next door, despite our windows being on opposite sides of the alley and me being able to spy on him when his curtains were parted at night. 

“Aleksander?” I stand a little straighter, gathering my shock and shoving it deep down. 

He smiles, standing up from the chair on the patio of the coffee shop. He is so tall, taller than I remember. His dark jeans are fitted against his legs and the black long sleeve button down he is wearing shows off a large portion of his impeccable chest. I don’t remember when the last time I saw him was, but I definitely don’t recall feeling the pulsing and intense heat that flashes through my body when I look at him. I suddenly feel naked. And stupid. 

Is Kaz trying to kill me?

Swallowing thickly, I scan the windows on the side of the library for Inej, wondering if she has already found a perch to play spy. The sun reflects off of each glass surface in the afternoon light, making it impossible to see through any of them. Blowing a breath through my lips, I attempt to quell the storm brewing and churning in my stomach. 

“What a wonderful surprise this is,” Alek starts. 

I catch the edge in his voice, the way the tone lilts at the end. A tell of how much this encounter is not a surprise. For him anyway. But I smile, I nod and I watch as he fluidly closes the distance between us and takes me in his arms. 

I hate how I exhale. 

How my whole body relaxes. 

I hate how good it feels. 

Like coming home. 

He smells like winter and barren tree branches, like snow and absence of light. Like a dark night wrapping me in its embrace and taking away the pain that days bring. Peaceful and mysterious all the same. Just as I remember it. Just as I remember him. 

“Since when did you start wearing all black?” I joke as he pulls away, gesturing to his outfit. “Are you some kind of darkling now?” 

He gives me a blinding grin, chuckling under his breath. 

“Something like that.” 

He gestures us back over to the table and I sit across from him, back rigid and legs crossed. I feel like a mannequin, still and stoic, despite the intense pounding of my heart and rush of blood through my veins. 

“How have you been?” He asks, leaning back in his chair with an amused look on his face. “I must say I was very surprised when your profile popped up Tinder.” 

I clench my jaw, working my teeth against each other. “Yeah, so was I.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Alek studies me, eyes unabashedly roaming from my face to my chest to my waist, to my legs visible on the side of the table. I swallow, trying to clear the unfamiliar lump in my throat before I speak. 

“But I’m good. Great, even. But I didn’t even know you are here. That you went here in the first place.” 

“It’s a temporary thing,” Alek responds. 

“Temporary?” I push. 

“I’m just getting a business credential for the semester,” he says, airy and dismissive. 

I narrow my eyes at him, hoping he can feel the suspicion and annoyance radiating from my look. He drums his fingers on the table, weighing my stare with a measured, even gaze that infuriates me further. I always hated when he did this when we were kids. Always challenging me. Always trying to get me to back down. Luckily, our time apart has sharpened my detective skills and my comfort with confrontation. 

Alek sighs, blinking slowly. “Fine. I’m here because of you.” 

My jaw slackens. 

Because of me? 

“I missed you,” he whispers, in a rare display of vulnerability and affection, before reaching across the table to take my hand. 

Fire lashes up my wrist and arm, chills spreading in its wake. His touch is electrifying me, his skin like a hot branding iron pushing into me with delicious pain. Alek’s jaw is set, the hard lines on his chin lined with stubble. I want to take his face in my hands and kiss him. I want to feel him against me and get lost in the impossibly deep gray ocean of his eyes. 

“Where were you then?” I venture, pushing down the pressing anxiety. 

“I had a lot to deal with after my dad died,” he responds, voice detached and noncommittal. “I’m really sorry I let our relationship fall away, but I didn’t want to drag you down into my grief. You’ve always had enough on your plate.” 

“You helped me through grief.” My tone steadies. “I wanted to help you.” 

He huffs, “I didn’t want your help.” 

The words are like a slap in the face, pulling my hand from his with a start. His dad’s death had been very abrupt and unexpected, launching Alek into a world of unknown wealth and property and an accumulation of other assets he wasn’t even aware his father had. His death was ruled under suspicious circumstances, but no leads were ever found for a murderer or any other sort of foul play. And with Alek’s mother long gone to cancer, he found himself newly eighteen and alone in the world. Except he wasn’t alone. He always had me. 

Alek releases a breath, eyes softening as he leans back in his chair, aware of the mistake in his harsh words. He pushes a hand through his hair, the dark waves parting for his hand like a saint in the sea. 

“I don’t mean it like that. I wanted you to be there, Cataleya. But some things you have to do on your own, you know? I had so much to figure out and sort through and… it was overwhelming.” 

I nod, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Alek was never the kind of guy to ask for help, especially not from people he is close to. He always did things alone, always felt weak for not building his own empire, his own legacy, his own destiny, without anyone else. But two years, I haven’t heard from him in two years and now here he is. In front of me. Asking for some sort of forgiveness. Is there anything to forgive? The pit in my stomach says yes. But my throbbing heart and other throbbing parts of me say no. 

“I missed you, too.” 

A small smile blossoms across his face, the sight beautiful and stupefying. 

“I can’t help but notice you walked here with Inej Ghafa,” he starts and my alert senses begin to tingle. “Isn’t she a part of Kaz Brekker’s Crow Club?” 

“How do you know about that?” I ask before I can help myself.

“Anyone who is anyone knows about Kaz,” he responds, almost spitting his name. 

“Okay…” I begin, unease settling into my stomach like a stone. “But why do you?” 

“He has something I need.” 

The stone becomes a boulder. 

“Are you-” I stop, then start again. “You’re the one that this is for.” 

“If by “this”, you mean whatever scheme he is planning to trap me in, then yes.”

“But why? How do you even know him? Don’t you know who he is and what he does? What are you thinking going against Kaz?” I ask urgently, struggling to keep my voice low. 

He pins me to the chair with a dead look. “He has debts he needs to pay.” 

“You’re going vague again?” I shake my head, irritated with his bipolar intensity then flippancy. “You need to back down. Or you’re going to end up hurt.” 

A smirk tugs at his full lips, “Your lack of faith in me is really inspiring, Cataleya.” 

“It’s not that,” I retort, exasperated, crossing my arms. “Kaz is really powerful. With more networks and connections than you know. If you don’t stop whatever crusade you have on him, you’re the one that’s going to end up indebted.” 

He laughs this time, a full and deep laugh that surprises me. “Has he really dug his talons that deep in you? That you’ve forgotten how wide my own connections spread? How cunning I can be?” 

“We haven’t spoken in two years,” I respond, pettily. “I don’t know you at all anymore.” 

He leans forward, eyes incredibly dark and face serious. “You know that’s not true.”

I hold his stare, raising my eyebrows, feeling satisfied that I made my point. Alek reaches across the table and places his palm up on it in invitation. I can see the veins of his inner wrist, with dark ink snaking across the blue and disappearing under his shirt sleeve. He didn’t have any tattoos when I last talked to him. My fingers itch to push back the fabric and see them. His secrets. Like Kaz’s, they are so plain on his skin yet hidden through metaphors and signs. 

Licking my lips, I push out a breath and put my hand atop his, feeling his eyes follow mine to where the ink is displayed. Without saying anything, he pushes the sleeve of his shirt up his forearm, stopping at the inner crook of his elbow. 

Inhaling and holding, I blink at the constellation on the inside of his forearm. A night sky, swirling with black and dead space, with creatures in between zombies and ghosts with huge demon wings flying through it. There is a ship at the base of his wrist, a small stern gliding through dark sand, a tiny speck compared to the massive size of the creatures flying above it. It is dark and torturing and incredibly impassioned. I let the pads of my fingers drift softly up Alek’s arm, watching goosebumps form on his skin. 

“What are they?” I ask. 

“They’re called volcra,” Alek says. “Beings that live in darkness and are afraid of light. They feed on those who come into their path, who are unable to see or defend themselves in the black sea of sand.” 

“It’s so… intense.” I search for the right word to describe it, coming up short. 

“I want to remind myself to not be afraid of light. Of happiness. That the things that I may think make me weak, really make me strong. I need to find more light, to find my light. I have been full of darkness for a long time, Cataelya. I’ve lived in a thousand moments of it.” 

I tilt my head, fingers pressed into the inside of his elbow and looking up at him through my lashes. His eyes are trained to the spot where our skin is meeting, his lips parted and eyebrows furrowed a bit in the middle. I resist the urge to flatten it with my thumb, letting the wind and the sound of other students fill the silence between us. 

“You were the only light in my life for a long time,” I say to him, tracing the volcra’s deformed bodies with my index finger. “I had nothing. I had no one. You pulled me from that nothingness. From the darkness. And held me in your arms. Brought me up to somewhere better. Where I can hope. Where I can not only see light, but make my own. That is invaluable to me.” 

He catches my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Can you help me, then? Can you bring me back my light, too?” 

My breathing stalls. I know what he’s asking from me. I know it’s more than just offering a flashlight through the tunnel. I know it’s more complicated than I can currently imagine. Alek stands up, coming around the table to kneel in front of my chair. Some students stare, wondering if they’re about to witness a proposal. I ignore them, keeping my eyes trained on Alek’s imploring gaze. I know in this moment, I will give him the world, the moon, and all of its stars. I will give him all of my sun and then some, I will summon everything I have to fill the darkest parts of him. 

He takes my face in his hands, palms impossibly soft on my cheeks. Subtly, slowly, I nod, watching his face break a part into a smile. Without pausing, Alek leans forward and kisses me. His lips are smooth and plush, completely stunning me into inaction as he runs his fingers along the sides of my throat. I sigh into his mouth, body realizing what is happening just as he is pulling away. Parting my lips, I stupidly sit in my chair as he gets up in one flowing movement.

Alek looks down at me with a smile. “I hope to see you soon then, Cataleya.” 

Just like that, he scoops up his book and walks away. Gone as quickly as he appeared. 

----

The room is completely aglow with light, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and candles lit around the room. Everything has a soft, burnt hue, like the room is on fire from below and the blaze is lighting the space. It must be the size of the University of Ketterdam quad, with hundreds of people talking, dancing, eating, and drinking. I recognize some students and faculty, but most are a blur of unfamiliar gowns and tuxedos. 

“They know how to throw a party,” Nik says appreciatively. 

“If they didn’t, no one would take them seriously.” Zoya retorts, leaving Nik’s side without so much as a glance to drift into the crowd. The smell of honey and sweet drinks spreads through the room, long tables lining either wall stacked with a massive spread. 

“That’s where I’ll be,” whispers Nina. 

I smile at her, gathering my dress in my hands and descending the few flat stairs to the main rooms. The floor is a beautiful tile, mosaics and colors that I can’t decipher flowing from the entry way beneath the mass of bodies. There is something magical about it all, something historic, like stepping into a time machine. The walls are lined with thick tapestries, with small halls leading into different areas of grandeur. I shouldn’t be surprised that wealth like this still exists, but every time I see it, I am. 

Scanning the space, I see Alek from across the ballroom, near one of the food tables, his gaze drifting across my body before a smile forms on his lips. He is wearing an all black suit, lapels crisp and smooth, with a single blood rose pinned above his heart. It mimics the read of my dress, the stain of my lips, the seduction in his eyes. He cocks his head slightly, dark hair falling over one of his beautifully arched eyebrows. 

I hold his stare, letting the bubbling pit of fire burn deeply in my stomach. The pit that forms when he looks at me, seated low and hot. The pit that would cackle and seethe if he would touch me, if his pale hands would settle on my hips and his lips would touch the shell of my ear, whispering sweet nothings and dirty everythings into my ear. Snaking my tongue between my lips, I watch as Aleksander tracks the motion, his posture straightening ever so slightly. 

And then Kaz is there. In my line of vision. 

The fire sputters out, replaced by something else. Something that grips my lungs and forces my heart to beat faster. His suit is a deep navy, bringing out the smooth pearl of his skin and accenting the night of his hair. He looks like a shooting star, dark and light at the same time. I wonder who picked it out for him, or if he selected it himself. I can’t imagine Kaz in a tailor’s shop, trying on suits and drinking bourbon with the upper elites with him. 

But then again, maybe I can. He is a business man after all. And great at faking it. 

Kaz catches my stare, tipping his head up in greeting before disappearing into the crowd. Nina and Nik dissolve from my side as well, going to observe and mingle before the drama begins. Alina is the only one left next to me, her golden dress sparkling in the chandelier light. She turns to me and sets her hand on my arm gingerly, sun earrings dangling from her ears. 

“Be careful,” she whispers. “He’s not who you think he is.” 

I open my mouth, about to ask her what she means before her hand is gone, and so is she. I watch her move into a group of people, hugging a man in a dark gray tuxedo from behind before giving him a kiss. Must be Mal. I don’t feel right, especially after what Alina said to me. I feel like something is amiss, but I don’t know what. 

I spot Kaz again, whispering something to Inej along the back wall. Her dark eyes drift to me, cementing the feeling in place. 

Alone, I cross the space to Alek. I had seen him twice since our fateful coffee date and both times had been very formal and full of business. Full of me trying to help him get his light back. Through some sort of grand scheme, it seems. One that required me to also recruit Nik, Alina, and Zoya to help Alek while seeming like they are helping Kaz. Sort of like a double agent, except I don’t know which side I want to be standing on at the end. 

“How are you?” Alek asks, tone casual to an untrained ear, but clipped enough for me to hear the true question behind his words. 

“Something’s wrong,” I respond under my breath before I loudly declare my happiness.

He lets his gaze linger on my face for a moment, schooling his features into neutrality. 

“Can you handle it?” 

“I’m not sure,” I admit, dropping my fake smile. “I might need help.” 

Vague enough, but he clearly gets the message, rolling his shoulders before giving me a dazzling grin. Alek reaches a long arm to stop the waiter passing by, grabbing two flutes of sparkling gold champagne and extending one to me. As if this is only our second time meeting. As if we both happened here by incident and he is looking to get lucky.

“I could never refuse such a beautiful woman.” 

I return his smile, throwing back the entire drink for some liquid courage. It tastes sweet and fizzy against my tongue, a faint acidity coating the roof of my mouth. Alek takes a long and thoughtful sip of his own champagne, much more graceful than me and folds my arm into the crook of his elbow. He begins to lead me from the ballroom, towards the Crow’s meeting spot. I look behind my shoulder, searching for their familiar faces. But all I see is Nina, already watching, her eyes focused intently on the joining of my arm with Alek’s while she pretends to listen to Nik, whose lips are moving with passionate fervor. Her mouth parts ever so slightly as she catches my eye. 

“Careful,” Alek mutters, forcing me to turn my head back in front of me. 

Dread and fear coil in my gut. I have never seen Nina look that way. I have never seen her look at me and not see me. I still don’t spot any of the other Crows at their reported positions around the room, where they were supposed to stay until I could get Alek alone and before I could lead Kaz to Alek and they could duel it out and I could decide who to side with then.

 I swallow, mind racing, trying to calm myself by believing that there’s a reason for their absence. 

 Alek seems to sense my trepidation, holding my arm a bit tighter as we meander from the crowded room into a near empty hallway. 

“Something’s wrong,” I repeat, trying to unravel everything quickly. Too quickly. 

Kaz, pushing everyone into this heist with such force. The others, more quiet than usual, less pressing for Kaz to give them details. Kaz, letting me teach him to drive, letting himself be vulnerable for me. Inej, barely talking to me a week into our plan. Nina, completely open and honest and warm until she saw me with Alek. Jesper, less happy than usual, less enthusiastic, more solemn and quiet, often excusing himself when I came into the room. And Wylan, always seeming to be off rekindling his relationship with his father. 

I didn’t need to help them with appearances at all. 

When fear arrives, something is about to happen. 

“It’s a trap,” I breathe, clenching my jaw and letting my stomach pit out inside of me. 

“I know,” Alek replies, cool and distant. 

My blood turns to ice. “What do you mean, “I know”?” 

He doesn’t respond, turning right down the hallway that leads to a back patio exit, and not to the left, to that private seating area where the Crows were supposed to be waiting. Alek increases his pace ever so slightly, giving me a glazed and lusted look when people come out of the rooms to pass us by, too high or drunk or exhausted to care. 

I try to stamp down the panic in my bones. How could I be so stupid? How could I get so caught up playing both sides that I didn’t see what was right in front of me? This is not the part where things are supposed to go wrong. I am supposed to get to choose. I am supposed to see them interact, gauge my feelings, myself, my words, and decide which side I want to be on. If I want to be a Raven or a Crow. If I want to be crime or creation. Of course, Alek is one step ahead. And so is Kaz. 

“We need to be more casual, less uptight,” Alek states as he pushes through the glass doors leading into the large mansion courtyard at the end of the corridor. “If any of them are watching, they’ll hurry things along if they sense we’re onto them.” 

“I think they already know,” I swallow, the night air turning cold and bitter. We hover on the cramped patio for a moment, not descending the small set of stone stairs into the gardens beyond. I can hear voices from inside, music drifting about, people laughing and heavy breathing from behind bushes. I wish I could have gone to this party with no other intentions than for fun. 

Maybe in a different life.  

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Alek shrugs. 

And then I am up against the thin black railing behind me, Alek’s hands settling into the curve of my hips. I can feel his warmth through the satin of my dress, bleeding fire into my skin, my heart, my core. He licks his lips and pushes me tighter against him. Our bodies are flush in all of the right places; hard and soft in all of the right places. 

“Kiss me, Cataleya,” he baits me, voice low and raspy. 

He doesn’t have to say it twice. 

I surge forward, his lips plush and velvet against mine. He smells like winter, like snow and frosty tree branches and endless starry nights. I grew up with this smell, revelled in it, fell in love with it. His dark hair brushes against my forehead, the strands so soft and gentle in a way I had never known Alek to be. He is always pushing, moving, plotting. 

He reminds me of Kaz in that way. 

Kaz. 

Alek’s tongue slips along mine, sparks flying and thundering in my ears. Haven’t I wanted him like this for so long? Haven’t I imagined what this would feel like since our first kiss, being barely a peck? Haven’t I dreamed that he would want me? That he would have me in the way I desired? 

So why is this falling so flat now? 

Kaz. 

The voice reverberates through me, like a Crow picking from a dead body, peeling flesh from bone until I am stripped bare. My head begins to pound, a dull ache in the base of my skull. Alek runs his fingers up my bare arms, drawing goosebumps in his wake until I am shivering beneath him. 

“Cataleya,” he murmurs, deep and throaty. 

The old feeling returns, the burning desire, the expectant eyes. The little girl waiting for her master to approve. The little girl waiting for someone bigger, someone better, to grab her hand and drag her from the dirt. I feel ridiculous for not being able to squash it down, to tamper it. I don’t know if that feeling would ever die. The feeling of dependence. Of unworthiness. 

Alek seems as if he’s about to say something, but his head whips to the side. I follow the movement, the stone of dread in my stomach sinking deeper when I realize the courtyard has gone quiet around us. Not a single sound from behind the bushes, not a giggle or a whisper or a moan. Too quiet. The sound of death. 

The headache threatens to split my brain a part, eyes blurring as I watch Alek attempt to stumble down the stairs. He gets one step in before a figure blocks his path. My breathing becomes laborious, squinting through black spots clouding my vision before I can see who it is. 

Wylan. 

His suit is a forest green, dark velvet tailored for his tall lanky frame. The color perfectly offsets the ruddiness of his hair and his shoes are a deep brown leather, squeaky clean and new. Leave it to Kaz to outfit all of the Crows with his endless bank account. 

“I’m sorry,” Wylan says, face truly betraying some measure of regret. 

The pieces click together, like a lock sliding into place. 

He hasn’t been working with his father all these weeks. He has been working on something else entirely. Something that would take lots of time, lots of care, and lots of studying. When Nina said those things I thought she was talking about how he was mending the relationship with his father. She was not. And not just that, but his studies most likely required more than himself for success. Probably Leoni, the incredibly kind and intelligent biochemical engineering major who Kaz sometimes recruited for special missions that required more stealth, less blood. 

Wylan was studying poison. 

And we had ingested it from the champagne. 

----

My head is throbbing when I come to, the sound of a car engine roaring in my ears. I don’t know how I got here. All I remember is Alek, his hands on me, his warmth leaving me to spin me into the arms of someone else. The shaved hair, the deep brown eyes, the palor of his skin, the stability of his grip around my waist. Then Alek again, his lips on mine, my back against the wall.

 I force myself to swallow, trying to see anything through the blindfold at my eyes. I am still in my dress, the silk smooth on my skin, and I can feel the car coming to a stop as I struggle to find the strength to say something. 

My bones feel like liquid, muscles weak and shaking. But Alek had been the only one who offered me a drink, he had been the only one I trusted enough to gulp heartily. Wylan. I remember Wylan. Standing at the ledge of the stairs in the courtyard. Me and Alek. 

Poisoned. 

The car’s back door opens and I feel a rush of the cold night air as two gloved hands drag me by my feet from the vehicle and out onto the street. Dread coils in my stomach and my skin pricks with goosebumps, the cobble stones ripping at my exposed ankles and arms. After being dragged a few hundred feet, hissing at the burn of scapes and tearing on my skin from the uneven street, I am forced onto my knees.  I don’t feel right. Nothing feels right. Where is Kaz? 

As if in answer, the blindfold is yanked down my face from behind, my eyes blurring and struggling to adjust to the dark light of my surroundings. I am in an alley, wedged between two buildings built of collapsing brick. I can hear the faint whiz of cars, but in front of me is only a few hundred paces of the alleyway and then trees. I am not being brought here to talk. It’s too secluded. Too quiet. And the smell, bark and sap and something else… I clench my jaw. 

A shadow fills my periphery and I struggle to stay up on my knees as a figure takes shape in front of me. The navy suit, clean white shirt, the black leather gloves, the hard lines of his jaw and set of his eyes. I know why I am here. I know what this is. His stare is furious, rage and ice and merciless vengeful eyes boring into mine. 

He made the choice for me.

“Kaz,” I rasp, voice cracking and broken. 

He snarls at his name from my mouth, shoving me up into the nearest building. I stumble in my heels, his movements fast and forceful enough to drive my back into the wall with no problem. The rough edges of the brick dig into my back, clawing at my skin. This is nowhere near the last experience I had against a wall, with Alek. Caressing me, kissing me, igniting me. I try to stay calm. I try to think. But all I can see is Kaz’s face in front of me, burning with hatred and disdain as he rams me harder into the unforgiving bricks. 

I try to hold in my scream as a knife plunges into my side from one of the roofs above, deep and intense pain bursting through me. I don’t know who threw it, I don’t know how many of them are up there and how many stayed behind. I don’t know how long they’ve been in on it, I don’t know if Kaz has been aware the entire time. But I do know that now he knows, they all do. And that I won’t be leaving here alive. 

I can’t move enough to take the knife from my side, the hilt small, but the blade curved and lodged deep above the bone of my hip. Blood seeps through my dress, the red becoming impossibly darker, and the drip drip of the liquid pings against the stone street as it runs down my legs. It’s the only sound between us besides my ragged breathing, pained and desperate. 

“This was all a test of loyalty,” he says evenly. “You failed.”

And I would die for it. 

Kaz’s hands close around my throat, gaze steely and intent. I try not to panic, my jaw locking and lungs constricting with the pressure of his grip. The warmth of the blood continues spreading and soaking through my side, red and sticky and filling my nostrils with the scent of copper. I can already barely breathe, trying and failing to make it through the pain. It makes sense how loose Kaz’s lips had been with me, all the questions he had asked to try and taunt me, to reveal my relationship to Alek, how he let me teach him; he thought I would be a dead woman soon. And dead women don’t spill secrets. Or give lessons beyond the grave.

“We knew it was you all along,” Kaz says in my face, tone even as he chokes me. “Funny. You didn’t even know he was here until we flushed him out for you. Until we set up that date and watched you become the person we suspected you were. Until you crawled back to him and pretended he was the only light in the pit of darkness that’s been your life.” Kaz’s gloved fingers are hot against my pulse and his hair is falling down his forehead, sides freshly shaved. I can see every prick of stubble along his chin, see the muscles feathering in his jaw. I’ve never been this close to him before. Not even in the car. A day that felt so long ago. Like a lifetime. 

“Don’t you know why we scouted you in the first place? We knew he would try to ruin us from the inside out and use you to do it, it was only a matter of time. But that game can be played by both sides.” His voice is low, a snarl that roars in my ears, my side throbbing. “Nikolai, Alina, Zoya… you thought that you were bringing in new recruits to then turn against us. We had them first. They were always Crows, not one of Aleksander Morosova’s ravens. They have even more of a reason to want revenge on him than I do. And I’ll bet they’re being even less pleasant with him than I am with you right now.” 

A pit burns inside of me, low and feral, deepening with each of his words. 

“But even before that, I wanted you.” 

And I know, at the tenor of his voice, it’s not the kind of want that I would ever seek. At how his voice drops, so no one else can possibly hear, that I will not like what he is going to say. 

“I wanted you the moment I saw you and your father’s face in the news. When I heard what he did to your mother even though no one would believe he could have done it. I knew he did.” He is seething, spitting on me as he goes on. “I knew that he was capable of ordering violence. Of committing it and buying people’s silence. I could see it in his eyes, I could see it in the way he held you against him. Possessive and consuming.”

I have gone completely still, the very blood in my veins seeming to stop, the pulsing at my side ebbing into a dull ache. His words are in a bubble, trapped between our lips. Each syllable pops and rebuilds it, over and over. Trapping me, over and over. 

“I didn’t leave the day they came to kill Jordie.” He continues, “I thought something was wrong, for him to force me out the way he did. I hid on the roof of our building and climbed down the stairs of the fire escape a few hours later. Then I saw him. Your father. Positioning my brother’s body on our couch, I saw him take the bloodied knife and place it on the floor, beneath Jordie’s fingers. I watched as he cleaned off any fingerprints, stole away any evidence. He had no blood on him and by the two men that stumbled onto the street and disappeared down an alley, I knew he hadn’t done the actual act...

“But what’s worse? Following an order for murder or sanctioning it?” 

I feel tears slipping down my cheeks, dropping like flies on Kaz’s gloves. 

“I followed him. Learned everything I could. I learned that he had been involved with an underground drug operation for decades. That my parents had been in debt with them due to some bad decisions in my dad’s twenties. And that your father had been sent to collect or kill. To send a message to the other debtors. Little did your father know that the victims had two children, that they escaped. And that they would be coming for him.” 

The air around me turns infinitely colder, everything still and quiet except Kaz’s voice. 

“I watched you too.” He continues, fingers losing their grip a bit on my throat. “I watched to see who you would be. If we would indeed become enemies, as our parents were. I observed you grow with Morosova, how he controlled you, how he led you away all those years, how he kept you quiet and kept you in the dark so you would never find out the truth and be killed, like your mother was.” 

His words stab me deeper than the knife, my heart in ribbons. Hearing him confirm my darkest fears unleashes the worst parts of me, the parts I tried so hard to keep hidden. Terrified. Insecure. Silent. Obedient. The little girl with an abusive father and dead mother. I hadn’t been her in so long, but Kaz is stripping me down. Shredding me. 

 Kaz’s voice drops lower, as if he’s telling me a horrible secret. “He knew about it, Cataleya. Aleksander,” he purrs the name like a curse, “he knew everything. His father was one of the men your father ordered to kill Jordie. Who was a part of the team dispatched to eradicate those who didn’t pay, eradicate my parents. Your parents were working together, how fitting that you and Aleksander would, as well. Fate is funny that way.” 

The world shatters around me, broken and splintering into a million pieces. Alek knew. He sat there and listened to me while I cried about my mother, how I had desperately wanted his help to look into what happened. He had warned me to want anything was to give myself up. That the only way for me to find peace was to move forward and never look back. That if I continued to want for closure, I would never find it.

 “The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.” He had said, over and over. 

How ironically true that had become. 

Kaz isn’t done. He continues to pick at me, the Crow in him unable to stop, his dark eyes burning with hate. “Where your own father failed, Aleksander’s father succeeded. He remembered seeing pictures in my house, of me and of Jordie. He remembered that there were two boys. And when I killed him by placing a bomb under his car to be rigged as an oil problem, his son stepped into the role to finish what his father started. To silence me too. But he didn’t and for me, for Jordie, I swore I would destroy them, brick by brick.” 

My breathing is coming out in short rasps, eyes blurred with tears of anger and embarrassment and white hot pain. I have been played. So horribly. By everyone in my life. Lied to. By every single person I had known. Even Alek. Alek, who had been the one person I thought would save me. Would be the one in the end to stand by me, to see me, to understand me. But he didn’t. He never did. He used me. Just like my father did. To be a sweet, obedient girl. 

In the few months I had known Kaz, he has seen more of me than Alek ever did. 

All we ever wanted, me and Alek and Kaz, was to feel safe and be loved. But we never trusted anyone enough to be either. So we fought and resisted and pushed. Into darkness. 

A whistle sounds from above, quick and melodic. Inej. Signaling Kaz that he needs to hurry. That enough is enough. But I can see it in his eyes. The hardness. The black pits of revenge and hatred and loathing he feels when he looks at me. It would never be enough. This retribution that he savored for years will never last as long as he wishes it to. I want to wither away into nothing under his stare. Not enough. Not his. Never his. Never a Crow.

“I know you love him,” he whispers so none of the others lurking can hear. “I know he’s the one who saved you. But he used you, Cataleya. He controlled you. You could’ve been so much better, so much bigger. It’s a shame the apple never falls far from the tree.”

I wish it had been you to save me instead. I think, shoving the words down my constricted throat. Maybe if it were Kaz, all those years ago, then things wouldn’t have gotten so messed up. Then maybe I would have been more like Inej, graceful, strong, full of more purpose than what Alek gave me. Maybe I could have meant something. To someone. To the Crows. 

But Kaz didn’t find me. Alek did. Alek led me from the garden and held my hand. Alek stroked my hair and told me it would be okay. That I would be okay. Alek raised me to be unforgiving, to scheme and stab people in the back to fill the empty hole in my life. Control. Kaz had said. How he controlled me. How he deceived me. With love. Love. Fake. Love. Fake love. I want to cry or scream at all of them, shaking with rage. I have been a pawn this whole time. 

“We are all controlled by something.” I push out, my voice weak. 

I try to swallow and fail at the reapplied pressure of Kaz’s palms, drool and spit bubbling from my lips. The alley wall is hard against my back, the night sky black and endless above me. The smog cover is so thick I can’t see the stars, despite the bright spots beginning to dance in my vision. I feel something prick at my spine with the pressure of my position like a silent reminder, mind sharpening and resolve strengthening. Love or no love. I have to finish what I started. I have to complete my assignment. Even if it isn’t one from Kaz. 

Even if it is from a liar. 

Lies are all I have known. 

All I have to hold on to. 

I can’t be saved. From darkness. My own or from others. I have waded too deep, gone too far. I may not be a true Raven, but I am definitely not a Crow. No matter how much I wish I could be. No matter how much I came to appreciate them, to care for them, to trust them. 

Trust is the most dangerous weapon of all. 

Slipping my hands behind my back as if I am trying to scramble against the wall, I reach for the cool metal of the blade attached along the zipper of my dress, letting out a choking cry to cover the unsheathing of my knife. The movement burns my side, ripping open my wound further to pour more blood. It runs over Kaz’s dress shoes, stains my legs. I am losing it too quickly, too much of it ebbing from me at once. Kaz’s hands press harder to my throat, forcing me, willing me, begging me to die now that his speech is over. I know he doesn’t enjoy this. I know he doesn’t relish in murder. Neither do I. 

But love is love.

Control is control. 

And business is business. 

Kaz would agree on that. 

“If I’m going down, Kaz,” I begin, voice barely a whisper. “You’re coming with me.” 

Without wasting another second, I shove the tip of my knife deep between Kaz’s ribs, watching his face contort in pain and dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then furrow in agony. Almost immediately, I hear a scream tear from somewhere on the roofs above and feel a pang of sorrow course through me. Inej just watched me stab the love of her life. Inej, the strong, graceful warrior who had been through more than all of us. She had screamed. Wailed.

I hear her words echo around my brain. The autumn leaves. Her cream sweater. The weight of her stare. “Some people just can’t be saved. But we love them anyway.”  

My sight falters.

 Kaz’s grip on my neck loosens, then completely disappears as he stumbles back and I fall towards the concrete without him holding me in place. An arrow pierces my shoulder from above, Jesper no doubt. With that incredible skill for landing true. The impact pushes me forward into Kaz’s already falling body, his white tux shirt now stained with blood. 

The world spins, my head making hard contact with the street. 

“This action will have no echo.” The rough words leak from Kaz’s lips, voice faint and faraway. If I could cry now I would, remembering the meaning of those words that Inej had told me just days ago. We would repeat nothing now. No more harm. To ourselves or others. This is our repentance. Our forgiveness.

Kaz is close to me, for I can feel the warmth of his body and the slick of his blood as it mixes with mine and stains the concrete.

If someone told me nine years ago, when I buried that cat and found my mother buried instead, that this is where I would end up, I wonder how differently my life would have been. I wonder if I would have chosen a different path. One full of forgiveness and happiness. The one of creation instead of crime. Instead of revenge and retribution. The weight of those decisions hang over me like a cloak, protecting and exposing me at the same time. Using the last bits of my strength, I turn my head to the side to look at him. 

Kaz is on his back beside me, so close that I can reach out and touch him. Touch his hand that is limp with resignation, his side that is red with blood, his lips that are white with death. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Even as a small line of blood trickles from the corner of his lips and pings onto the stones. I let my eyes close, pretending the stars behind my eyelids belong to the sky and not to the Grim Reaper. Pretending the stars are his eyes.

We’ve all had hard lives. We’ve all taken on assignments that were too big for us. We’ve all done things we regretted and we all leaned on each other too much for our own good while leaning on no one at all. We all let the ghosts of our pasts haunt us into our future. Especially Kaz. And that’s the problem with trusting ghosts, in the end you become one. 

You become transparent, empty, without an echo. 

“No mourners.” I manage to mumble into the night. 

“No funerals.” A disembodied voice murmurs back, but I’m not sure who it belongs to. 

And then there is nothing but darkness. 

---

~Admin Eggplant

[brekker-crows]

Dating Kaz Brekker - HC

Kaz x gn!reader

- When he started growing feelings toward you, he tried to distance himself from you to stop himself from falling for you.

- He didn't talk to you as much anymore and avoided your company if possible.

- It made you think he's mad at you for something, but when you asked about it, he'd just deny it and claimed he's been very busy with work.

- He also started to protect you.

- Suddenly he didn't let you come along to the most dangerous missions, claiming that your skills aren't needed.

- Inej and Jesper tried to chime in to remind him of a room you'd definitely be needed in to keep guard, but Kaz shut them up with a glare.

- The two realized on that moment why Kaz acted like that. Those stares hadn't gone unnoticed from them, but they couldn't be sure because Kaz had never showed any fond feelings like that towards anyone. They weren't even sure if he was capable of caring about someone so deeply.

- He was appearing to be cold and distant when you were interacting with him and the moment you turned away, he looked at you in a way which just flooded with deep affection.

- But he had his reasons to act like that.

- Firstly, because he knew that you'd be used as a pawn against him if anyone ever found out about his feelings, and he'd never forgive himself if that happened.

- Secondly, because he wanted to remain tough, he couldn't let his past self to resurface.- Not even with you.

- But the longer he tried to suffocate his feelings and pretend everything is normal, the harder it became.

- And when it got to the point where he got jealous of seeing his customers flirting with you and throwing them out from the club with fake reasons, you finally noticed that he was behaving oddly.

- You ended up questioning him about it while he wrote something.

"Kaz, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You've been throwing out paying customers for almost every night now without a reason. The guy last night definitely didn't-"

"He distracted you, you just didn't notice."

- You just sighed, knowing you wouldn't get anything out from him today.

"Well... ok then. Good night, Kaz."

"Night, Y/N."

- He stared after you even when you had closed the door, before sighing and returning to working on his blueprints.

- Inej visited him that night.

"They love you too, Kaz."

- He froze completely.

"We know that you're trying to protect them, that's why you no longer assign them to dangerous jobs. And Jesper has seen how you look at them. And I've seen how Y/N looks at you like that too." -Inej

"You and Jesper have gotten something wrong, Inej. Y/N is a valuable investment, but nothing more." -Kaz

"You can keep telling yourself that, but you deserve happiness, just like all of us. And Y/N could bring you that happiness." -Inej

- And with that, she was gone.

- He thought about Inej's words the whole night.

- You? Love him? An absurd idea.

- But he called you to his office the next morning anyway.

- He was intending to tell you that you're work partners and nothing more, ensure that you aren't drawing any future dreams reserved for him (because he always tries to push everyone he cares about away if they get too close to his cold heart), but instead it led to an emotional discussion.

- (Or at least as emotional as Kaz can get)

- You didn't verbally say anything about it (because Kaz wasn't ready to say anything like that out loud), but you began dating after that morning.

- He leaves you little gifts every once in a while in your room. A flower, some sweets or even a piece of pretty jewelry he snatched on a heist and which he had noticed you admiring for longer than usual.

- Needless to say, if he was protective of you when he first started developing those strong feelings towards you, he's now even more protective because you're his.

- Someone hurt you? Consider them disappearing and you'll never see them again.

- You'd rather not know what Kaz did to them to make them disappear or with what he threatened them to make them leave Ketterdam in the next ship.

- If he saw someone flirting with you, he had to trust that you'd know how to shoo the person away because you had made a point that someone could pick it up why he's so protective of you.

- But he still might hunt for the tiniest of reasons to kick them out from his club, especially if they had guts to touch you when flirting.

- But because of the reason said above, there's no any kind of PDA or flirting in public between you two.

- You both know that sooner or later, a rival gang would find out about your relationship and come after you, so you're keeping it hidden for as long as you can.

- Also because Kaz would go feral if he heard that there's a kill order put on you.

- So it's kinda protecting your rival gangs too because that treatment Kaz gives to his enemies... he's feared for a very good reason.

- If you want physical touch in a relationship, you have to be incredibly patient because it's probably gonna be a long and rocky road for you two to really bond and trust to reach that point.

- You learn very early that it's better if he's the first one to initiate touch or tell you that he wants to try something, as he has bad and good days overall with touch and affection.

- Some days he can't bear a thought of touching you even accidentally, and you have to learn that it's not because of you, it's because of his trauma.

- But some days he wants to work on it, and you make tiny steps to achieve the milestones, one by one.

- First, he has to learn to acknowledge it that it's you, you're not a rotting corpse.

- So your touch isn't anything else than his gloved fingers lightly brushing against your bare ones at first or some other minimal touches.

- When he's gone far enough with working on it with you, feeling your heartbeat through your shirt or him putting two fingers on your wrist or neck to feel your pulse can also help him remember that you're alive and he's got nothing to be afraid of.

- The first bigger step was when one of your close friends in the Dregs died and you were curled up in his bed, just crying after your lost friend and Kaz sat on the bedside, holding his gloved hand on top of you and stroking your body up and down in an attempt to comfort you, his blanket also being a barrier between you and his hand and that's why he could do it as you had worked on his touch aversion for a while.

- But he felt like it isn't enough.

- He struggled with it, but he managed to make himself take off his glove and hold your hand.

- It felt disgusting, but... at the same time, it didn't feel nearly as disgusting as he thought it'd be.

- That touch was as good as him holding you and rocking you back and forth, let you soak his shirt with your tears, and you knew it too. It was the most comfort Kaz could bring you on that moment.

- Your relationship would probably never be a traditional one which you'd see with others (like Wylan and Jesper), his traumas are too great to completely be like that, but you love him nevertheless, and you knew what you were jumping into when you started that relationship.

- You love him, and he loves you, even if on bad days it doesn't seem like it. But even if he snapped something to you, you know he doesn't mean it.

- And if he snaps at you and notices that he hurt your feelings, he learns to apologize to you without anyone having to tell him that if he has made you feel bad.

- And you teach him to be more empathetic, and sometimes the Crows tease him about it.

"Aw, our tough and big bad Dirtyhands has gone soft because of Y/N."

"Shut up Jesper."