#𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄. ┊ six dangerous outcasts‚ one impossible heist. ( 𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘. )

[thiefofcrows]

plotted starter for @veitsia

   The sea breeze pushed and tugged at Kaz's dark, tailored coat as he stood overlooking the docks, dark eyes sweeping over the ships that resided in the bay. He was seeking one in particular, anxiously awaiting its arrival — Inej Ghafa would be on it, temporarily returning from her voyage of which he'd heard plenty about. They hadn't seen each other for months and the furthest either of them had gotten with touching one another had been a heartfelt clasp of their bare hands, fingers entwined; puzzle pieces fitting together with ease as his thumb had sought out her pulse, beating steadily against her inner wrist. Alive, alive, alive.

   It was what they'd done when he'd revealed the surprises he'd arranged for her and then again in the early morning before her departure. Of course on that day, he'd wanted to do more than hold her hand — thoughts of his lips brushing against hers, or even just wrapping his arms around her, feeling hers wrapped around him in turn, the gentle squeeze of reassurance ... but that squeeze had been reserved for their clasped hands. Kaz had let her go, wishing he'd done more, said more, but ... this time, perhaps he could do both.

   When he caught the first sight of The Wraith, Kaz felt his heart practically leap into his throat, giddy, nervous energy crackling through him like wildfire. He took a steadying breath ... then he made his way to the berth he'd had built especially for her, the sound of his cane thunking against the wood bellow his boots a comforting anchor. She'd told him roughly what day and time she would arrive in her last letter, but he hadn't written her back yet — she wouldn't be expecting him to be standing here to greet her. Perhaps she would be hoping, though, and the mere idea of it sent Kaz's heart soaring. It was a strange sensation, one he instinctively felt the urge to scold himself for. Hopeful and lovesick, like a teenager.

   Any concept of self consciousness completely evaporated as their eyes finally met, however — Kaz saw the relief and joy in her smile, bright and vibrant ... and it was for him. It was a smile he thought he would die to earn again. His eyes warmed to the color of dark honeyed tea, a crooked smile blooming across his features without his meaning to and he briefly averted his gaze, the gesture almost shy — if he weren't Kaz Brekker, of course. His hands felt painfully bare as he rested them atop his crows head cane, but ... he hoped Inej would see and understand the gesture.

❝Captain Ghafa,❞ he greeted her as she approached, his rock salt rasp warm with pride for her, using the title she'd begun to earn. Kaz wanted her to feel validated, but he also hoped she could hear how proud he was of her, despite how much his heart ached for her when she was away. Desires flashed through his mind rapidly — again, the thought of embracing her, a fleeting thought about what kissing her would feel like, telling her that he'd missed her ... but, he cleared his throat softy and instead, he said, ❝I considered organizing a welcoming party, but ... ❞ Kaz shrugged with an exaggerated sigh. ❝You'll just have to settle for me instead. ❞

[thiefofcrows]

   Once he felt the tug at his sleeve, Kaz released his grip on Matt's shirt, letting his hand be moved. Despite how seemingly mundane it all was, his heart was hammering still, from both excitement and a relentless undercurrent of panic. He listened to the low timbre of Matt's voice so close, focused on the way it practically reverberated through him. He focused on the other's breathing, which was a little unsteady, too. His faint touch against Kaz's palm sent tendrils of electricity through him and the sensation was maddening. He closed his eyes as familiar, but mercifully faint, panic crackled through him; he swallowed it and steadily breathed in through his nose, then out his mouth. He could best this.

Slowly, he let go of Matt's shirt with his other hand and lifted it, seeking to carefully cup the other's cheek. Kaz's last two fingers rested against his pulse point — and the steady beat of Matt's heart was like being firmly held above water, safe and secure, nothing to fear. A twinge of desire pulsed through him, however, as he felt how fast the others heart was racing, as Kaz realized that it was because of him. Matt was alive beneath his hands, asking him for direction. He'd never had to explain any of it out loud before and for a moment, Kaz struggled with finding where to begin.

   The feral, wounded thing inside of him reignited his instinct to retreat, to back peddle. Kaz was allowing Matt in so close that he would know everything, eventually. He was showing him precisely where to cut and, not only that ... Kaz could no longer avoid the sickness, the panic, the flashes. It would no doubt get worse before it got any better and the pain of it, the shame of Matt seeing him at his worst, his most vulnerable ... it felt insurmountable. Again, he took a long, staggering breath — Kaz wouldn't be doing it alone and ... while it was instinctively humiliating and terrifying for him, he knew he could trust that Matt would never use it against him or shame him further. He was no longer a fourteen year old boy who could get beaten half to death and left bleeding in the street for being weak.

   And the pain, the sickness, the shame ... it would be worth it. Being able to touch Matt like this, to kiss him, maybe someday more ... now that he'd had a taste, he was ravenous for it.

❝Those two places are as far as I've ever gotten,❞ he managed eventually. ❝Just ... don't surprise me with it. If I can't expect it — my mind will supply its own answers and ...❞ Kaz let out a wavering sigh, feeling his stomach churn at the mere thought of where it would no doubt lead. He swallowed thickly, retreating from that particular path — Kaz desperately didn't want to ruin this, he didn't want to have to stop. He faintly shook his head, careful to avoid dislodging where their foreheads were touching. ❝I just ... need reminders that you're alive and breathing.❞

He reached for Matt's hand with the one that had been resting on his leg — slowly, carefully, Kaz entwined their fingers and a slight shudder passed through him. Barely above a whisper, he continued. ❝I'm terrified, but I want ... this. I want you.❞ He couldn't tell Matt everything, at least not yet ... but he hoped he could somehow manage to convey that skin on skin touch was much, much more than something that bothered him. It was something much worse than that and ... Kaz hoped Matt understood that he wasn't making things difficult on purpose.

 Quite frankly, Matt didn’t know what to expect. In his life he had taken many risks thus far, a lot of them quite often deadly. And yet, he couldn’t recall any of them being as terrifying as the risk he had taken just now. Regardless of what he did, he didn’t think Kaz was going to show him the door and tell him to get the fuck out, but that didn’t mean the worry didn’t weigh heavy on his heart and mind. If he had gravely misjudged, well, everything, he might just lose the place —and the person— he now called home. And he wasn’t quite sure if he could endure that sort of loss once more. He couldn’t start over, not again. Not now that he knew what it felt like to truly belong somewhere, to have people who cared about you, genuinely cared about you. He couldn’t—

 Then he felt Kaz grab him by his shirt and pull him close. But it wasn’t until their foreheads touched that he dared to breathe, dared to hope that he hadn’t made the wrong decision, after all. He exhaled slowly, letting his hands rest on his knees instead of fiddling around with them. Not an easy task by any means, if he was honest. Siting still almost felt unbearable, as his whole body felt as though it might vibrate out of its own skin at any given moment. But at the same time, he didn’t dare to move, almost as if he was afraid the other might pull away if he did.

 “I think we can work with that,” he muttered, closing his eyes for a moment to let everything sink in. He hadn’t been wrong. He hadn’t made a mistake. He wasn’t about to lose the life he’d come to know and love. And Kaz? Kaz felt the same way. Even if things were difficult, he felt the same way. Everything else they could figure out later.

 Matt was about to say something else, when he felt Kaz’s lips against his own once more and every thought he might’ve had a second ago was gone. Everything, just gone. And if there might’ve been any lingering doubt in his mind, that was now gone, too. There was no room for doubt when the man known as Dirtyhands, as the Bastard of the Barrel, kissed you as if his very life depended on it. It set off a swarm of butterflies in the pit of his very stomach and slowly but surely they spread out throughout his entire body. It drove him absolutely mad in the best way possible and although his entire mind was a bouquet of mixed emotions he couldn’t discern, there was one thing he knew for sure: he was definitely, undeniably in love with Kaz fucking Brekker, and he had no intention of ever leaving his side.

 Once Kaz broke the kiss, Matt let out a quiet, almost disappointed sigh, but at the same time had to admit he had to catch his breath; in part, because his heart was racing so fast he could hardly keep up with it. “That we are.” Reaching for one of his hands, Matt grabbed it by the sleeve, and gently placed it on his leg, palm up. “I know it bothers you, and I’m sure you know I’ve been aware of it for a long while. I’ve never asked you about it, and I won’t ask you now, either. I just— I’d like to know what I can or can’t do.” With his forehead still resting against Kaz’s, his eyes were focused on the palm resting on his leg and his own fingers as he slowly, carefully, traced one of the lines with the tip of his finger. “I feel like this is a balance I can’t just go and try to figure out on my own. At least not without a lot of trial and error.” His one finger was joined by the other three and he gently caressed Kaz’s skin for a few seconds before pulling away. “Because all I can think about is how badly I want to hold your hand. Your face. Everything.”

[thiefofcrows]

plotted starter for @therooftopsofketterdam

   THE FIRST TIME THEY'D TRIED, after Inej had left on The Wraith and returned months later, was when Kaz had joined her on the roof of the Slat. Just like he'd used to, before the heist, before Van Eck, before she'd set her dreams on hunting slavers. He'd settled in next to her, their legs dangling off of the edge, their breath escaping in puffs of white as the chill of fall had begun to set in at night. It was a gradual feeling of Inej's slight weight against him and, for a brief moment, he was weighed down, buried beneath piles of corpses — but inej was not a corpse, she was alive next to him, her ears, nose and cheeks all flushed a deeper red from the cold, her body heat warm against his shoulder.

   Kaz tilted his head, hesitated ... but then he shifted slightly so that the arm she leaned against loosely curled around her just slightly, the length of his arm casually resting against her back. He sought out her hand with his free one, making use of the slits in his gloved fingers to find the pulse that beat against her wrist. It steadied him, discouraged the frigid waters from rising around them and he let out a slow, wavering sigh, his breath misting in the air. Tentatively, he leaned his temple slightly against the top of her head — he shivered as their combined heat chased out the cold and ... Kaz couldn't remember ever having experienced this, not really. It was warm and soft, desire and longing churning relentlessly in his chest, swiping the breath from his lungs.

   He felt an abrupt and foreign urge to wrap his arms around her, embrace her, rake his fingers through her hair, but ... Kaz didn't know if he could manage any of those things, nor if she could, either. What they were doing now was close enough, he thought, and a deep affection felt like it was practically bleeding out of him, fast and uncontrolled, overwhelming. His love for her was all encompassing, terrifying, but Kaz was greedy for her own that she offered in return, much to his bafflement.

❝Hello Inej,❞ his rasped voice drifted between them warmly. ❝I thought I'd find you up here.❞

[thiefofcrows]

@veitsia | CONT. from here.

  When I die … the mere idea of those words made something deep inside of Kaz Brekker twist painfully. At the same time, the vicious and wounded thing he’d become after his last true brush with death thrashed with rage. Both sensations swept over him so abruptly, it was difficult to reign in an outward response. Kaz still clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the pen he was writing with — even his writing stopped, albeit briefly as he caught himself, took the faintest breath through his nose. The force of such frayed, raw rage scared him still, deep within his bones and, the only reason it scared him was because it was for her.

   He didn’t want to think about what life would be like without listening for her, without instinctively seeking with nothing but vague senses for her approach, where she would simply melt back into the world, emerging from the shadows like magic. He didn't want to imagine never seeing her seated at his window again, feeding the crows that would always remember her kindness.

   Kaz had said the words as a joke, light and teasing, despite the fact that maybe he might actually mean it, but … of course she had turned it into something too real. He would surely paint the streets red with the blood of those who’d laid their hands on her without a moments hesitation. How had it come to this?

   A quiet scoff followed and, he too felt the twinge of irritation at himself as he tilted his head in her direction, seeking to steal a glimpse of her. He often found himself gazing into those rich dark eyes and itching to understand the things she didn’t say aloud, longing to solve the puzzles in which she presented him with — the only case where he would solve one only to receive at least three more, each more baffling than the last.

   ❝Escaping obstacles of my own design is what I’m good at, Inej.❞ He’d cheated death more times than he could perceptibly count, but that was how you won a game that was rigged against you from the start, wasn’t it?

   ❝But if you don’t at least haunt me, I’ll be sorely disappointed,❞ Kaz continued, a long, exaggerated sigh carrying the words from his mouth.

[thiefofcrows]

Plotted starter for @therooftopsofketterdam

   For the first time in years, Kaz slept relatively peacefully. Rays of the morning sun trickled in through his window and, gradually, he stirred. When his eyes fluttered open, the events of the previous night hadn’t caught up with him yet, so not seeing Inej laying across from him didn’t initially strike him as worrisome. After a few long seconds, however, it all came flooding back, as did the realization that she had been here and she knew everything. Kaz had said things that he’d never even dreamed of saying out loud and he was glad for it.

   Inej had been here, she'd come back to warn him about Pekka Rollins' return — he still needed to piece together the intricate details of the loose plan outlined in his head. After all, he'd known the man he'd finally brought to his knees would return eventually and Kaz had mapped out various scenarios for when he would. However, Pekka Rollins had taken his sweet time and it had made Kaz begin to consider that perhaps he would stay away for good, but ... of course, he was wrong. Still, he could push those thoughts onto the back burner for now as he wanted to bask in the fact that Inej had returned and, despite her long time away, she still wanted him.

   The previous night, he'd held her, he'd even kissed her like he'd fantasized about doing for years. He'd shown her what he'd built in place of the Menagerie and, to his relief, it had meant as much to her as he'd hoped it would. Now, however … the realization that, while she’d fallen asleep curled against him last night, she was no longer beside him and it sent surges of emotion through him, one after the other — panic, confusion, the deep loneliness Kaz had become so accustomed to … it all tried to swallow him whole. Not only had Inej set off, but so had the others. Jesper and Wylan had always been near by, but … they had their own lives to live.

   He jerked upright and let his eyes sweep over the room, seeking to find her hiding within the shadows, hoping his groggy senses hadn’t picked up on her presence, but … Inej wasn’t here. Where had she gone? Had she decided to leave after all and if so, what would that mean? Kaz’s mind cycled through the possibilities for a solid few seconds before he heard a faint sound somewhere behind him and he twisted around to glance at the window — and it was just in time to catch sight of Inej climbing through, the morning sun shining behind her. A slow, heavy breath escaped him as he felt a sweeping sense of relief … and a sense of embarrassment that he’d gotten so worked up when all she’d done was leave to fetch some breakfast.

   Kaz caught her eye and the sheer warmth he exuded in her direction … it was just as unusual for him as he was sure it was for her to see first thing in the morning. A lazy smirk curled at the left side of his mouth, one dark brow arching as his gaze briefly left hers to regard what she’d brought along with her. ❝Peckish already?❞ He asked, his voice lower and more rough than usual with sleep.

[thiefofcrows]

   To say that Kaz essentially felt like he’d been run over by a carriage would’ve been a massive understatement. His bad leg had ceased its throbbing as he’d limped his way through the back alleys and hidden pathways of the city only to radiate unrelenting pain. He supposed he ought to have been flattered that they’d sent far more men after him than he’d expected — they’d had the upper hand in the beginning and Kaz had gotten countless blows to the face and hard kicks to the stomach, but … he still managed to bring them all down eventually.

   Having so much power and influence was a double edged sword; the more successful you were, the bigger the target on your back was. One of the unfortunate side effects of success, he remembered saying to Nikolai once. Now there were two. The only deterrent was your reputation and Kaz’s certainly wasn’t damaged by any means. Sometimes people just had a fucking death wish and, as he’d made his way back to the Slat, he still didn’t know for sure if he’d killed any of them, but … he could guess that he’d certainly left a few teetering on the edge. That, at least, gave him some satisfaction.

   Of course, Inej had been waiting for him. Kaz felt a twinge of irritation to have their usual carefree and relaxing evening ruined by him having taken a beating — perhaps it was that irritation and disappointment, along with a longing to rest and even receive comfort that he’d rarely ever gotten in his life, that lead him to be coaxed into laying down with his head in her lap.

   It was getting easier now, to do things like this. To feel the warmth of her body beneath his own, to lay still as she lightly traced her fingers over his face, dragged them through his hair and not be overwhelmed with the surge of sickness, with the bursts of panic. It still lingered as an undercurrent, like the faint hiss of a gas lamp as its light burned on relentlessly. Kaz could breathe through it, keep it contained and quiet as long as they were careful and deliberate — and perhaps maybe if he were distracted enough, which at the moment, he was.

   He gazed up into Inej’s lovely face, staring without need to avert his eyes or pretend he wasn’t desperately in love with her. By now, he’d practically memorized every little detail of her features that he could see, but he still traced them with his dark eyes. Occasionally, he found something he hadn’t quite noticed before when he did it from different angles — another testament to how she still managed to always surprise him, even when she wasn’t trying. At some point, he’d reached up with his closest hand and began absentmindedly carding his fingers through her soft dark hair, his eyes drifting to follow the movement, his other hand resting across his chest.

   Kaz felt the childish urge to simply curl his arms around her waist and bury his face into her stomach, especially as the pressure and chill of the wet cloth briefly stung. He thought about breathing her in, feeling her warmth, about kissing her through fabric. Of course, he acted on none of those things, but … he thought about it. A faint smirk tugged at his lips in response to her question as he idly twisted a lock of her hair around his first two fingers; gently, carefully, as to avoid any kind of tugging. Before he could answer, however, she seemed to get taken in by the scars that littered his face.

   His gaze flickered back to her features as he noticed her tracing them carefully and he remembered the reasons behind them. ❝Firstly … there were five of them and, when I left, they were all bleeding on the ground, so … I’d say that’s much, much worse than what I’m enduring right now.❞ This is almost worth getting a beating, he thought. The feeling of her thumb resting against the edge of his mouth sent his heart racing, although he wasn’t sure exactly why — all the same, he tilted his head slightly to press a faint kiss to the pad of it.

   ❝This one was left over from the fight with the Dregs,❞ Kaz murmured eventually, his eyes drifting back to her hair as the memory for the one at his brow surfaced. It was something that had forever shaped him, haunted him; it had always been a reminder that … what he was doing now was dangerous, that it could get him killed, that it made him soft, weak. He took in a breath, steadying the underlying panic that crackled through him. We are stronger together, he reminded himself. ❝The one at my brow was … when I was fourteen. Before I met you, I had a stupid crush on some girl,❞ as if you don’t remember her name, Jordie’s voice murmured in his head, his tone that of a teasing older brother. It left Kaz with an aching twinge in his chest and he was irritated to find his throat had tightened. He cleared it softly.

   Go on. Finish the story.

   ❝I … wanted to be normal. I knew what I was supposed to want, by the way everyone always talked about those things. I suppose I ... did want something like that. I tried exposing myself, little by little, to skin on skin contact. The last time … I did it on a job with Teapot. I had to hold Beni against me while he received a beating. He was a two-bit brawler who owed Per Haskell cash. But … I couldn’t —❞ Kaz’s voice broke, but it merely sounded as though he didn’t have the words to describe why. His eyes were still focused on the gentle caress of his fingers through Inej’s hair and he pressed his lips together briefly.

   ❝I let Beni go … and Teapot gave me the beating meant for him. I couldn’t walk, I had to drag myself out of the alley afterwards. The scar came from him smashing a glass bottle against my head.❞ Those were the bare details of what had happened, but Kaz had never told anyone. Never said any of it out loud and, in doing so, it made him realize the unnecessary cruelty of it in a way he hadn’t before.

short starter for @thiefofcrows

Night had long since settled over the city, as Inej dipped a cloth in a shallow dish with ice water. Her hair fell over her shoulder, loosely curtaining a side of her face and spilling over the side of her leg and knee, as she looked into Kaz's pale face. Her brown eyes warm and soft on his.

He'd stretched out on the sofa, hat and coat abandoned, tie loosened and vest undone, bad leg elevated with a pillow and his head lay securely in Inej's lap.

"Tell me the other guy looks worse." Inej requested, her voice slightly worried as she brushed some of his hair out of Kaz's forehead, nails lightly tracing over his scalp. There was blood on his face and shirt, some on his gloves and cane as well. She knew how a fight looked like. There were lacerations on his face, a long cut on his forehead, blood trailing from his nose and bruises forming on his face. It looked painful.

Inej withdrew the cloth from the bowl, gently dabbing the edge along the cut on his brow, whiping away dirt, grime, fresh as well as dried blood in an attempt to clean it. The hope was that the ice water would soothe the inflamed tissue and reduce the swelling.

Her mother used to make cold compresses for her whenenver she tumbled off the rope or cut herself on stones and branches while running and climbing. That kind of practice was something she missed deeply...

Inej released a breath she'd been holding as she re-dipped the cloth into the water. "At least none of these will leave a scar." Quietly, she continued to clean his cuts and dab cold water onto the forming bruises. Her hand hesitated when she reached his eyebrow, a shiney mote of scar tissue cut vertically through it. She had always been aware of it, but never had the chance to properly see his scars and Inej wondered what had happened to him that he carried so many on prominent places...

Her index finger gently traced the outline of shiny skin, once, twice, before she moved on. Her hand now cradling the side of his face, a soft brush of her thumb against the side of his mouth where another jagged scar disturbed the softness of Kaz's lips. She'd kissed that scar before and now wondered how his seemed to be smooth and clean cut compared to the gnarled mess that she hid beneath her sleeves.

Kaz's scars where a show of strength, of battles won. Her own were a victory laced with pain, but there was no strength attached to it. Only the hope to be free of the cursed tattoo that had once inhabited her wrist.

Inej noticed another, much fainter rope of scar tissue just above his nose. A vertical scratch that didn't quite seem to fit into the mosaic of scars that marked his face, jagged marks the barrel had left on it's bastard.

Her thumb still rested against the side of his lip as she gently cradled his face to better reach. "How did you get these?" She asked, head slightly turned to the left as she looked at him inquisitively. Scars told stories... and Inej couldn't help but stealing secrets. And Kaz Brekkers secrets were her favorites.

[thiefofcrows]

@feilien | CONT. from here.

   It wasn’t difficult to catch not only the way Long Zhi reached for his own arm, but the shift in his demeanor. Given the small amount of information he’d divulged, he suspected the reluctance came from the mention of taking the tattoo. He recognized it — Inej, too, had been reluctant to take the tattoo and, to this day, her wrist was clear of any mark to indicate where she’d belonged once. Kaz hadn’t wanted to mark her, given everything she’d been through.

   He’d seen the newly scarred flesh of her forearm where the Menagerie’s tattoo had once been and, if her circumstances alone hadn’t done it, that had been enough for him to make an exception.

   Sitting here across from Long Zhi, hearing the way his voice had changed, seeing the way he’d barely resisted folding in on himself … he could sense the similarities. However, Kaz had no way of knowing whether those similarities stemmed into the same kind of exploitation or not and he obviously wasn’t going to ask. Long Zhi eventually lifted his gaze and Kaz met it with his own, studied his features as if trying to find the answers he sought hidden there.

   He remained that way for a long moment, contemplating … then, finally, he dropped his gaze to the warm mug of coffee he had before him and offered a one-sided shrug. ❝That’s entirely up to you — take the tattoo or don’t, but don’t come crying to me when you try to tell people you’re with the Dregs and they don’t believe you,❞ said Kaz, reaching to wrap his gloved hands around the mug, the heat barely seeping through the leather. Despite the dismissive nature of his words, there was a hint of something softer, understanding, lurking underneath.

   ❝You’ll have to make a name for yourself instead — but,❞ dark eyes snapped up once more to catch Long Zhi’s gaze, something intense and with a small undercurrent of pain churning there. Small only because he was holding it at bay. ❝There’s whisperings of you being another Wraith. You can embrace any name or title you want, except that one. If I catch wind of you using it for yourself, I won’t hesitate to leave you bleeding out in an alley somewhere.❞

[thiefofcrows]

   There was the slightest hint of surprise at Matt’s denial for a bural, but mostly something else surged inside of him — pride. It was clear from what he’d chosen to share that they’d manipulated him severely, kept him in the dark about their more sinister dealings. Such a detail only heightened his suspicion that there was something else going on beneath the surface, something deeper. If Matt were just one of their soldiers, why would they go through so much trouble to deceive him?  How did they know that he wouldn’t take kindly to slavery, to experimentation?  What would it matter, really, if he did if he wasn’t anyone important?

   If Kaz was right, — and he usually was — Matt could prove to be incredibly useful in the pursuit of taking the clan down, discerning their habits, their weaknesses. It wasn’t exactly the missing puzzle piece, but it was the beginnings of it, something that was slowly taking shape within his minds eye.

   Of course, it would also be risky to have someone the Black Dragons wanted to take back alive at any cost, but … Kaz had already suspected that risk the moment he’d realized Matt had been running from something, or someone. Initially, he’d only been willing to take that risk because of how incredibly useful his skillset could prove to be. Now, however … now there was something brewing between them, something that Kaz could not inwardly deny, no matter how much he wished he could.

   His stubborn heart cared about him and only now was he beginning to understand that it would inevitably progress into something much deeper. We can’t just leave them to the wolves; before the Ice Court Heist, before their defeat of Van Eck and Pekka Rollins, Kaz may have considered doing just that. Dirtyhands was known for being ruthless, for not letting anyone near him, for doing whatever job needed doing for the right price.

   He knew now, however, more than ever that he was stronger when he did let the right people in. Both himself and his gang were stronger because they did not turn on one another. Your gang was your family and, while Matt had lost whatever connections he’d made in his clan, he’d gained something stronger; people who would have his back regardless of what it may cost them.

   Thus, when he caught that glint in Matt’s eye, he knew what the answer would be before he spoke the words. That crooked smirk of his bloomed across Kaz’s features and he cocked his head to the side, dark brows lifting. ❝Brick by brick,❞ he said, more to himself than to Matt, but it was an agreement nonetheless. Then his gaze swept down to regard the bodies — he felt the sickening twist in his stomach, the flicker of anxiety. Kaz swallowed thickly before inclining his head towards them then meeting Matt's eye. ❝But, first thing's first.❞

 Nothing followed. No doubt, no probing, no further questions. It felt odd, almost wrong for Kaz not to inquire any further. Matt might be naive to a certain degree, but he wasn't naive enough to believe that the other didn't at least have a hunch that there was more to his story. Kaz was unusually perceptive and probably the smartest person Matt had ever met, and they'd established fairly early on that it was impossible for him to keep anything properly secret.

 But... Whatever Kaz's reasons were, Matt was grateful. He was slowly starting to trust Brekker, was starting to feel somewhat comfortable, perhaps even something like safe in his new life. But he knew that there was a chance that could change as soon as Kaz learned that he wasn't just dealing with a simple foot soldier, but the leader's own grandson. That put him in a whole different realm of risk, and there was a good chance he'd consider that to be more trouble than Matt was worth. Grisha, or not.

 When he was given the option to bury the men, Matt hesitated for a long moment. His first instinct was to say yes; they deserved that much, at least. But then he started to reconsider. Did they deserve a proper burial? They hadn't hesitated to turn on him. Hadn't hesitated to hunt him down, regardless of how long they'd known him, how much they'd fought together. He owed them nothing. And, above all, if he truly intended to leave Liu Long Zhi in the past, then he had to do the same with any residual feelings he might have for anyone. 

 "No," he finally said, shifting his gaze from the bodies back to Kaz. "The Reaper's Barge will do." Matt did pick up on the brief change in Kaz's voice as he mentioned the Barge, and it was his turn to wonder if there was more behind it. But... This was neither the time, nor the place, and, quite frankly, none of his business. Was he curious? Of course. Unlike Kaz, however, Matt wasn't obsessed with solving puzzles — or people. 

 Making his way over to the bodies, he was about to move them into one pile in order to make it easier for himself to move them all in one go. Using his powers one last time before letting them lie dormant again wouldn't hurt, right? But Kaz's words made him stop right before moving the first body, and his hands dropped back to his sides instead. 

 Of course, they had contacts here. Matt knew that. Why in the world hadn't he thought of that? He'd spent so much time and effort on remaining hidden, on remaining unseen, when he should've spent it on getting rid of the leak. If his grandfather had no one to report Matt's movements back to him, he was as good as blind. And now... Now he had friends. A warmth spread inside of him, the warmth of realization that he was no longer alone. Then he grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

 "Let's get rid of your thorn then."

[thiefofcrows]

   The truth was that Kaz Brekker did care. He cared deep into his bones and throughout his difficult life, he'd gone on believing that revealing that he cared was dangerous. Now, however ... Kaz understood that danger depended on who was listening. Caring is what made people stay and, while he did believe that openly admitting to Matt that he cared likely wasn't dangerous ... old habits died hard.

❝I'm not some character from a children's story who steals from the rich to give to the poor,❞ said Kaz. He'd said much the same thing to Inej once, both leaning against the hull of the boat that had taken them to the Ice Court, the sea breeze encircling them. Kaz knew it wasn't entirely the truth; he wasn't a hero. He wasn't made to be one, nor did he try to pretend he was. Regardless, he did want to be better than people like Pekka Rollins, or Jan Van Eck — and he suspected he also would prefer to be better than the man who had clearly inflicted a great deal of suffering on Matt enough for him to escape. Another long sigh escaped him.

   ❝Ruthlessness has a time and a place, but you can't sustain a legacy on that alone. You don't ask for respect, loyalty — you earn it. And you can't genuinely earn those things with nothing but fear and cruelty, no matter if you're leading a band of cut throats and thieves or a bunch of pigeons who've never broken the law in their lives.❞ It was a round about way of accepting the compliment, but it was the best Matt was going to get for now.

As for the planning, that was something they could discuss another time. The idea that being given room to be human, to work within the confdes of how truly messy the world really was could make a considerable difference to what Matt was able to master expanded in Kaz's mind. He found himself wondering what else Matt would be capable of simply because his environment was more reasonable. If even then he still wasn't much for planning, that was fine — but passable skill was better than none. For now, he tucked such thoughts away.

   Kaz pushed himself off of the edge of his desk and limped around to the other side of it, standing in front of a large framed map. He pushed it up to reveal a safe, which he took a moment to open and pull out a stack of kruge. He pulled it back down into place with a faint click and then he limped back to where he'd been leaning. Kaz extended it to Matt to take. ❝Here — you did good work.❞ Kaz found himself hoping his words of praise, even if it wasn't as grandoise, would mean more to him this time. Once Matt took the kruge, he continued.

   ❝When you make mistakes, you tell me. If you get injured on a job, you take care of it, don't ignore it — if you need a healer, obviously I can get you one, it's fine to ask. No more hiding, no more lying. Familiarize yourself with the Barrel, the rooftops, but I hardly expect you to do it all in one night. Get some damn rest — you can't do your job well if you're sleep deprived.❞ Inej would've laughed at him for saying so, given his own track record, but ... Matt needed to stop with the all or nothing mindset. ❝Fair enough? ❞

 There was no doubt that Brekker’s words were genuine. Whatever he was saying, he meant it. Which didn’t mean it made it any easier for Long Zhi to wrap his head around it. All his life he’d been told that failure —no matter how small, or how good the rest of the job had been completed— was worthy of punishment. You were either perfect, or a failure. There was no in-between. And yet, Kaz told him that there was.

��“The Ice Court heist?” Now that one was most certainly a complete surprise. He didn’t know all the details, but even he knew it had been a big deal. He remembered the clan members talking about it for weeks. About how big of an achievement it was, how it should’ve been completely impossible, and how that had to have been the biggest heist anyone’s ever pulled off, not to mention how the Fjerdan’s were supposedly scrambling to try and cover it up. It had meant very little to Long Zhi then; after all, he had countless other things to worry about, and didn’t have the time to wonder about someone else’s achievements. But now he suddenly found himself incredibly curious. Perhaps he could bring it up some other time and learn a little more. It didn’t seem as though Kaz was entirely unwilling to talk about it.

 But… Another time, another place. For now, he hesitantly nodded his head at the other’s words. “Planning… Planning’s never been one of my strong suits. It’s not really something you can learn, either. No matter how hard you try. I just.. can’t come up with all of those elaborate plans in my head, let alone a bunch of backup plans. I’m better at following orders, at being told what to do. If something goes wrong, I can figure it out then and there, but that’s it. It used to drive him mad.” How can you be a leader, if you can’t lead? It had always been Long Zhi’s biggest failure, and it never got better. He never seemed to learn.  

 “I thought you were like him, you know.” He looked up at the other, once again studying his face; his hard lines, the sharp angles, and then the eyes that gave away that there was something softer underneath. A softness that had always been missing from Xiao Dan. “Ruthless and terrifying, using people as tools to achieve whatever it is you want to achieve, with no concern for their well-being. But you care. You care a lot. And you have morals. You don't treat people as commodities, as a way to make money. You're nothing like him.”

[thiefofcrows]

   A faint smirk had already curled at Kaz’s lips as he pressed the dull knife to Matt’s throat — but the grin he received in response elicited a brief upward arch of his left brow, intrigued. Of course he recognized the mischief that gleaned in the other’s eyes, but … something else lurked underneath, something that Kaz had begun to catch glimpses of more and more often. It stirred something within himself, which was an incredibly unfamiliar sensation that continuously kept circling him, like a vulture waiting to pick his bones clean. It was a thick, electrifying kind of heat that stirred with interest, with desire — and while it was a tempting sensation to lean into ( and Matt’s teasing words certainly didn’t help ), along with it came his very familiar undercurrents of anxiety.

   The dark intensity of Kaz’s gaze swept over Matt thoughtfully and he swallowed down the crackling fear — what would happen if I leaned in closer? It was a thought that was impossible to avoid this close. He wondered what kissing him would feel like, of course, but more than that … he wondered how Matt would react. Kaz found himself imagining Matt’s surprise — would he inhale sharply, pull Kaz closer, push him away?  The Latter seemed incredibly unlikely, if the way Matt was looking at him was any indication; however, such impulsive acts were not meant for someone like him. Someone who could easily be overrun by a surge of panic, or a twisting sickness, just from a brush of lips. Not to mention, while Matt knew that Kaz had … issues regarding touch, he didn’t know the scope of it.

   More than that, a seemingly ancient fear twisted and crackled painfully in Kaz’s ribs, a fear he’d decided to try to find some kind of balance with, but … that was much easier said than done. The fear of letting Matt in any closer, letting him dig the rest of his way into Kaz’s heart, knowing full well that anyone could use that connection against them. The potential depths of that connection terrified him too, but it unearthed a craving for it just as powerful — either way, a sparring match where their adrenaline burned hot was certainly not the place to make any course altering decisions. They’d been dancing along the edge for quite some time now and Kaz elected not to let himself fall — not yet, anyway. He did lean in closer, but only slightly and his rock salt rasp was little more than a quiet murmur between them.

  ❝At my mercy?  Are you holding back on me? ❞ While he’d decided not to make any rash decisions, Kaz too was reluctant to change anything either.

@thiefofcrows  said: “∗ 65﹕ sender  throws  receiver  into  a  wall  during  combat . ( more sparring shenanigans 😎 )”

{♚ x 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 . || Accepting x}

 It was by no means a daily occurrence, but Matt did try to make it a point to train as often as possible. It was nowhere near as often as it had been back in Shu Han, when he’d been forced to spend hours training every single day, but enough to keep his skills and reactions as sharp as they had ever been. A necessity in the role he was playing in Ketterdam, and even more so in his goal to protect not only himself, but the Dregs and, above all, Kaz.

 Most of the time he was by himself; occasionally there was a group of Dregs that wanted to test their own skills by taking him on — always together, never alone. Not that that ever changed the outcome. Now and again Matt would take the time to teach them and refine what they already knew, giving them homework and then another chance a week later. More often than not, they showed immense improvement.

 Kaz was no exception. Granted, he was a force to be reckoned with already, but that didn’t mean that Matt had nothing to teach him. After all, he had spent a lifetime learning and perfecting several different fighting styles, which meant he usually had the upper hand, especially after picking up on the dirtier tricks people in the Barrel —and most certainly Kaz— tended to use.

 So saying he was surprised when his back hit the wall and all air escaped his lungs would’ve easily been an understatement. By the time he regained his bearings, Kaz had already procured a blade —dull, meant for practice, but a blade nonetheless— and pressed it against his throat. If it had been a proper blade, he would’ve undoubtedly drawn blood. Worse yet, it was a huge stab at Matt’s pride and ego.

 Still, he grinned. A cocky, mischievous grin, that hinted at what exactly his current predicament truly stirred inside of him. “Well…” Lifting his hands in surrender, he cocked his head to the side as much as the blade to his throat let him. “What a surprising turn of events.”

 For a moment, he considered his options. They admittedly were few and far between. And if he was honest, he wasn’t in a huge rush to change anything. An opportunity would surely present itself, and Matt would certainly take it. But he could wait. “Well then. Make your demands. I’m at your mercy, Dirtyhands.”

[thiefofcrows]

   Kaz tilted his head away from Matt’s pinching fingers, but to no avail and a playful scoff escaped him. Of course, that particular lesson was one that Kaz was re-learning every waking moment of his life these days — it wasn’t an easy thing to expel, the deep, ingrained fear that any sign of weakness, of softness, would not only be your own downfall, but the potential downfall of those you cared about. The barrel had wasted no time teaching him that lesson, over and over again, until he’d finally fully accepted it. However, neither of them were nine years old, or fourteen, and they were two of the most dangerous people in Ketterdam. Kaz held all of the strings, knew every secret he could ever use and Matt had helped with that. It wasn’t easy, letting those ingrained fears go, but … he was doing his best.

   Somehow, he managed to keep a straight face as Matt pulled out the little bundle of white, muddy fur, at the tone of his voice. He couldn’t deny that the little creature was incredibly adorable, even if it badly needed a bath. Kaz couldn’t have stopped himself from feeling himself utterly melting if he’d tried, but he did his best to at least somewhat hide most of it. Matt knew him well enough now, however, that he could very likely spot the tiny details that gave him away regardless.

   He pointedly looked away from the puppy for the moment, dark brows quirking upward with emphasis as he met Matt’s gaze — and he hated the way warm affection bloomed and spread throughout his chest at the way he was looking at him. Well … he didn’t really hate it, but … it was just another reminder how deeply Matt had gotten under his skin.

   ❝First, I’m not miserable, I’m practical,❞ he began, addressing Matt’s earlier comments. ❝It gets more complicated when that thing you love can’t take care of itself — not yet, anyway.❞ As he said this, Kaz reached up to give the puppy scratches underneath its chin. With the way the little thing leaned into it, if he wasn’t already a goner before, he certainly was now. A long, heavy sigh escaped him. ❝Second … if you want to keep it, that means its your responsibility. And first among those responsibilities is … probably a bath. It’s got clumps of mud in its fur.❞

   Kaz cast a glance at Matt again, giving him that teasing, playful smirk of his. ❝And stop looking at me like that.❞ Pray tell, don’t, he thought to himself anyway.

 Matt wasn’t going to give up his secrets —which weren’t really secrets, of course— that easily. And, more importantly, he wasn’t going to get discouraged by Kaz’s rather gloomy outlook on, well, everything. As a matter of fact, instead, he raised the hand that wasn’t concealing the puppy and gave Kaz’s cheek, after a brief moment of pause, a quick little pinch. “Now, now, Kaz Brekker. That whole… melancholic and broody little bad boy spiel might work on those guys out there, maybe even on yourself, but it’s not working on me.”

 Okay, perhaps that was a lie. It had obviously drawn him in at least a tiny bit, but he wasn’t going to serve that up on a silver platter now, was he? “Anyone can use anything against me. But that’s not going to stop me from anything, is it? If I’ve learned something during my stay here in Ketterdam, it’s that life’s too short to deny myself the privilege of loving something. Or someone. Even if that someone happens to be a miserable idiot.”

 It was funny, really. Not too long ago he would’ve never dared talk this way. Not to Kaz, not to anyone else. All his life he’d had to hold himself back, watch what he said at any given time, or fear disapproval (or worse) otherwise. But Kaz didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, Matt was fairly certain he enjoyed their banter, and slowly but surely he’d stopped holding himself back. It was incredibly freeing, and yet another step in ridding himself of his past.

 Then, finally, he pulled out his hand from behind his jacket and held out the bundle of fur between them. “Besides… You can’t tell me he isn’t worth the risk. Just look at him.” In an attempt to drive his point home further, he lifted the puppy up and held him in front of Kaz’s face. “See? You can’t say no to that face. You can’t tell me you —even you— would’ve simply walked past this shivering little thing without a second thought. He’s a baby.”

 Mirroring the puppy’s eyes as well as a human could, he looked at Kaz, pleading. Although it might’ve lost some of its effect thanks to the huge grin on his lips. “So, can I keep him?”

[thiefofcrows]

   Matt’s response told him a few things and most of them were inconclusive. He couldn’t quite pin point whether or not he knew about their dealings because of his potential connections to the other grisha of the city … or for some other reason that was connected with wherever he’d come from.

   His clear disdain would make sense either way, but … if he were grisha and he’d escaped wherever he’d come from because they’d been making deals with the Bronze Vipers, well … that would certainly make a great deal of sense. It was only a possibility, one that Kaz couldn’t know for sure without asking and — those details weren’t necessary to get the job done.

   A faint upward curl of Kaz’s lips followed nonetheless, as it seemed they shared that disdain and it was at least close to equal intensity. Having someone do the job who was indifferent to the selling of human beings, of possible unethical experimentation, slavery … well, he supposed they could get the job done, but they wouldn’t have the same understanding. Kaz had an inkling that his hesitation had more to do with the fact that he was trying to control his emotional response — it was obvious he had some personal stake here.

   The fact that he was aware enough to control his emotional response, too, was good; a personal stake without the ability to regulate your emotional response was more dangerous than it was useful. Kaz hoped it wouldn’t lean too far into the direction of dangerous.

   ❝Making them understand that slavery is forbidden in this city … and show them what happens when you cross the most powerful gang in Ketterdam.❞ Kaz gave a slight tilt of his head, dark eyes sweeping over Matt, clearly satisfied with what he was seeing. ❝We’re going to take them down.❞

 There was another moment of hesitation before Long Zhi actually opened the door and stepped inside. But once he did, he made sure to have his back straight and his head held high; something his grandfather had taught him from an early age on. No matter what, uphold your pride. It wasn't that he was scared, or anything of that sort, but even in the short amount of time he'd known Brekker, it had become fairly obvious that he seemed to pick up on things a lot quicker and easier than others. And while Long Zhi wasn't happy to be back in this sort of environment, he also didn't want to risk losing it because the other deemed him too weak.

 Making his way over to the chair in front of Brekker's desk, Long Zhi sat down — but not without taking in his surroundings first. Much to his surprise it was... fairly simple. In fact, Brekker didn't even seem to have a proper desk. It was the complete opposite of the huge and opulent office his grandfather had, with the chair similar to a throne, and a desk littered with ornate carvings and gold inlays. It was... oddly comforting, in a way. It made the divide between them seem much smaller. Unless, of course, that was the goal behind it — to lull him into a false sense of comfort.

 It was Brekker's rough voice that made him snap out of his thoughts, and Long Zhi took a moment to react at all. The Bronze Vipers. He knew he'd heard that name before. Crossing his legs, he leaned forward a little, eyes unfocused. Where had he heard it before? On the streets? Maybe, but for some reason hearing that name brought anger along with it. He'd never associated with any gangs here in Ketterdam, before Brekker approached him. So why?

 Then it dawned on him: the Bronze Vipers had been one of the gangs supplying his clan. With humans. With Grisha. Just like him. They weren't even sold off for money to the highest bidder, but provided to the government for nothing more than future favours and a blind eye to their shady dealings. 

 Struggling to keep his emotions in check, Long Zhi took a good minute before he felt confident enough to reply. "They snatch up Grisha and sell them overseas. The strong and tough ones go to Shu Han, the weaker ones either get sold as indentures, or tossed to the Drüskelle if they can't fetch a decent enough price. They're despicable." Lifting his gaze, he met Brekker's, his eyes now practically on fire. "What's the job?" 

[thiefofcrows]

   The second that grin bloomed across Matt’s features, Kaz knew something teasing and lighthearted was coming. As it always did. He couldn’t resist his own answering smirk and a playful scoff escaped him — of course, Matt wasn’t wrong, though. Everyone he’d encountered here, save for their enemies of course, liked him and obviously Kaz Brekker was no exception. From what he remembered of Jordie, he and Matt would get along so well that he was sure they’d drive him a little mad … but he would enjoy every second of it nonetheless. It was a silly and pointless thing to think about, considering that Jordie was long gone, but … it gave him a strange sense of bittersweet comfort anyway.

   Kaz followed Matt’s pull easily when he’d shifted to lean against the wall — and, while the feeling of Matt’s fingers combing through his hair sent a pleasant, warm shiver through him, it didn’t make him any warmer. It merely drew him in further, seeking to absorb as much warmth from Matt as possible and he found himself wondering if he’d done it entirely for that purpose. If he had, Kaz certainly wasn’t complaining about it either, even though every now and then, his dark gaze would sweep around them in anticipation of their current privacy being interrupted. He offered a slight, one-sided shrug in response to Matt’s question.

   ❝He used to love this time of year. We’d both been told all about Ketterdam’s celebrations from our Da, before … ❞ he trailed off briefly as the deeply unsettling memory of finding their father dead, his innards strewn across the lawn, at nine years old flashed in his mind. It was by far the least terrible thing that he’d experienced, considering everything else, but … it had still left him with nightmares all the same. He cleared his throat quietly and elected to leave that detail alone, assuming Matt could at least surmise that their father had died somehow. ❝While we obviously made it to Ketterdam, he never had the opportunity to partake in the festivities.❞ Kaz let out a soft sigh before quirking dark brows, that answering smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth again.

   ❝And, if he’d be kicking anyone’s ass, it’d be mine,❞ Kaz murmured, his forehead brushing slightly against Matt’s — not quite leaning into him, but nearly. ❝After all, I’m the one running a criminal empire, which I doubt he would’ve approved of.❞ He reached up with one hand to idly cup Matt’s cheek, his gloved thumb smoothing over skin whilst the other clutched Matt’s jacket. It was almost as if holding onto it would keep him close, or suspend this moment in time indefinitely.

{♚ x @thiefofcrows x} Continued from here

 Honestly speaking, Kerch’s holidays were still somewhat alien and confusing to Matt, and he still didn’t quite understand the origins of Nachtspel, but that absolutely did not stop him from enjoying it nonetheless. And while he no doubt missed the food from Shu Han, he had to admit that he’d grown fairly used to Kerch food over the past couple of years. Perhaps even started to enjoy it. Especially the holiday-themed food and drinks. While he was fond of food at any given time, it just seemed that little bit sweeter and tastier during the holidays. Although he suspected that sharing it with the person he loved might have something to do with it, as well.

 Despite his own, nearly child-like excitement, however, he hadn’t failed to pick up on Kaz’s melancholic mood at times. He hid it well, but not well enough. Still, like so many times before, Matt didn’t pry even if he had a vague idea of where it stemmed from. Instead, he simply dialed up his own enthusiasm and redirected Kaz’s attention whenever necessary. In the end, it had been, by all means, a successful day and Matt was almost unwilling to return to the Slat and let it end just yet. But the prospect of hiding away in Kaz’s room for the rest of the night with no one else around was enough to convince him to leave the festivities behind.

 He was humming quietly to himself as they walked —some melody stuck in his head that a couple of musicians had played in the streets— and, for once, wasn’t really paying too much attention. So he was a little confused when they didn’t enter the Slat, but stopped short of the entrance and remained outside instead. The confusion didn’t last long, however, and he knew what Kaz’s intentions were as soon as he leaned the cane against the wall. So he offered no resistance when he felt an arm around his waist and gladly let himself be pulled into a kiss.

 Even now, it still made his heart leap out of his chest and his knees grow weak, despite it being a fairly common occurrence nowadays. He was also acutely aware of the fact that they weren’t in the safety of their own four walls, and although there was no one around at the moment, it didn’t mean it was going to stay that way. Holding hands out in the open was one thing, kissing quite another and he had to admit that he was genuinely surprised by it. But… he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it.

 Whenever they broke apart, Matt let out a content sigh as he cupped Kaz’s cheek and caressed it with his gloved thumb. He’d never grow tired of it. Of this. Of Kaz, of the way he made Matt feel. It wasn’t just happiness, and excitement, and comfort, but also like home. Like he finally found the place he belonged after spending his entire life feeling out of place.

 Opening his eyes as the other spoke, it took Matt a second to place the name. Jordie. His brother. “Of course, he would’ve liked me. Everybody likes me,” he grinned, but it didn’t last for long and quickly transformed into a soft smile instead. “I hope so. I’m sure there’s nothing scarier than a big brother looking out for his little brother. I hope he thinks I treat you well enough and doesn’t feel the need to kick my ass.”

 Pulling away from Kaz, he leaned against the wall, then reached out to pull him close once more. His hands reached up, one pulling off Kaz’s hat, the other combing through his hair, before coming to a stop in the back of his neck. “Is that why you seemed absent from time to time today? Because you were thinking of Jordie?”

[thiefofcrows]

          I’m not sure exactly how it feels to be fine. Her words elicited a faint quirk of his lips — it reminded him of the night he’d reestablished the Dreg’s claim on Fifth Harbor and revealed Big Bollier’s betrayal. At first, everything had gone so smoothly that he’d been surprised to find himself feeling hopeful; it was a feeling he suspected neither of them were overly familiar with and, standing here, Kaz’s forehead tenderly resting against Inej’s, he once again found that unfamiliar sensation of hope enveloping him. Along with that hope, however, fear always seemed to be on its heels — when he did tell her, would she conjure the deep seeded disgust for him that Kaz felt towards himself, for doing what it took to survive, to reach the shore?  

            He knew for a fact that the answer was of course not. Just like he knew for a fact that, if Jordie somehow did manage to find his way to Kaz from whatever afterlife existed, if any existed at all … revenge against his little brother for finding some way to live would not be what he’d choose to do. However, it didn’t change that such thoughts encircled him often and that Jordie’s voice in his head had rarely ever been kind. Kaz knew how that it wasn’t really Jordie’s voice, of course, it was his own disgust, his own guilt, used against him.

             Again, he took a steadying breath, willing such swirling thoughts to dissipate. Now was not the time to think about any of that — he wanted to think about the soft, tender feeling that encompassed him, that sliver of hope that promised he wouldn’t be forever barred from touch that he’d only begun to truly crave with Inej. Her heartbeat thrummed, strong and alive against his fingers and her skin felt warm to the touch. As Kaz held her gaze, however, he felt the shift between them before she decided to act; the thought of kissing her, of course, crossed his mind and, when her eyes fluttered closed, his drifted down to her mouth. He took in a shaky breath as she tilted her head, their noses brushing lightly — such a simple means of contact sent a surge of electricity and a nervous fluttering sensation through him. I can do this, Kaz silently chanted to himself, begging his body not to betray him with sickness and panic. Please, he added, the thought laced with a sense of desperate exhaustion. Let me have this.

           He heard her voice faintly, but the blood roaring in his ears, his heart hammering against his rib cage made it difficult to discern the words. Kaz let his eyes flutter closed in turn and he nearly stopped breathing as he felt the sensation of her lips tenderly pressed against his own. Her lips were incredibly soft and smooth, warm against his mouth and he could feel her breath — a subtle reminder that aided him in regulating his own as he slowly inhaled through his nose. It was a brief thing, too brief, and when their lips parted for breath, Kaz found his body moving on his own accord, a brief affectionate nudge against her as he exhaled shakily. He wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to keep kissing her, as the unfamiliar sensation of desire surged through him, making his entire body feel like he were about to tremble apart.

         Kaz smoothed his thumb along the back of her hand, the gesture meant to soothe as the  other arm he’d had around her moved. Slowly, carefully, he reached to cup her cheek, the sound and feel of her breathing, the steady beat of her heart keeping the frigid waters of Fifth Harbor at bay. He leaned in to steal another kiss, hesitant and unsure, and it was likely immediately obvious he’d never kissed anyone in his life. Regardless, while his attempt was a longer one, it was tender and careful — but the undercurrents of Kaz’s natural intensity thrummed underneath.

         In that hotel bathroom, he’d been almost certain that their bittersweet closeness could kill him, but … with their lips pressed together now, Kaz’s heart beating so hard he feared it would simply smash through his ribs along with the deep, unfathomable ache of wanting, of long buried love that was finally able to stir to life without his attempts to stifle it ... he found the thought almost funny.

@veitsia

Having lived for so long in its nearly perfect absence, the sensation of his ungloved hand once again seeking for the warmth of hers, felt almost as intense as the mere sound of his voice had back in the docks. Thinking about how 𝐟𝐚𝐫 they had come from that bittersweet moment spent in the hotel bathroom could have easily sent her mind spinning and spiraling, but the softest of sighs escaping Kaz's throat anchored her to the present time.

Forehead to forehead, heartbeats drumming in a mutual tune, tormented by things that bodies could remember even more clearly than their minds... the feeling that'd conquered her entire being was admittedly frightening; where her skin remembered hands roaming and seeking for nothing but one-sided pleasure, Inej reminded herself about all of it being in the past, and that the one close to her now had never lifted a finger to do her any harm.

Realizing this was enough to shift her trail of thoughts towards some unknown, untouched regions. Saints knew how deeply she had missed him. Subconsciously she had been afraid that if any word of affirmation was to dance on her tongue, it would turn into acid and ruin everything that'd already been achieved. I'm afraid, he too said, here and now — in the end, just how long had it been since neither of them had truly felt an 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 that didn't constantly revolve around being scared ? ❝ You'll tell me when you're ready. And if that time won't come... that's okay too. It won't make me change my mind ❞, she mused aloud, huskily. The meaning behind these words could unfold one day and give her the courage to address her feelings with their true names instead of offering riddles after riddles.

Hiding every glimpse of softness, otherwise known as vulnerability, had been a necessity in order to survive through the darkest nights of Ketterdam. Where he'd been ruthless and calculative, she'd been quiet and venomous. All that was left in this moment was an unspoken permission to show 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 else than the sharpest edges. With their gazes now locked, and an unfamiliar feeling tingling in her stomach, Inej made the conscious choice to spare him from lies. ❝ I'm not sure how exactly it feels to be fine ❞, she admitted barely as a whisper, ❝ But I think... this could be very close to it. ❞

To have his head above water had been Kaz's wish, which was in a perfect symbolic conflict with her sensation of drowning in the privilege that was the warmth of his eyes. And before she knew it, some higher power took the reigns of her nature; tilting her head ever slightly, Inej's eyes fluttered shut and she could feel the side of her nose brushing lightly against that of his.

❝ ... I'll try... ❞

Then, shyly even, her lips met his. The touch was brief and 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. How very odd it was, one might have thought, that the first kiss between two undeniably dangerous people tasted sweet like captain Ghafa's honeyed afternoon tea.

@thiefofcrows

[thiefofcrows]

   Kaz lowered his gaze, dark eyes settling on his clasped hands — of course he knew what Matt said was true and he simply nodded. At that moment, he thought the entirety of what he was trying to convey with his words, with his eyes, hadn’t quite come across. Or perhaps it had and Matt was steering the conversation away from it, evading the deeper meaning. He felt a skittering nervousness, a sense of disappointment; perhaps he deserved it, given how many times he’d skirted the offered emotional vulnerability of others himself.  Something warm and soft and aching unfurled in his chest as Matt referred to himself as Kaz did, usually in his head — his Reaper.

   Regardless of whether Matt returned his feelings, he was grateful that he was alive and breathing. Grateful that he’d risked everything to keep Kaz from bleeding to death. He was grateful to merely be close to him at all, even if things didn’t progress towards anything but what they already were. He felt and heard the sound of Matt pulling his leg off of the bed, so naturally, Kaz glanced up — and he felt like his heart leapt into his throat. Matt reached for him, cupping his cheek again and, before he could properly process what was happening, their lips made contact but for only a few seconds.

   Kaz felt as though he’d been struck by lightening, terror and desire mixing together and a small shudder wracked his frame. The waters of Fifth Harbor washed through him like a wave, but mercifully, it was too low to drown him. His heart was hammering against his ribcage and it took a moment to process the words that had come out of Matt’s mouth — I don’t have it in me to leave. Dead or alive. He took a steadying breath, tried to ease the faint tremor in his hands as he unclasped them, reached up. Kaz was terrified, but … he thought with the ability to anticipate the touching, he could do this. He curled his fingers into the fabric of Matt’s shirt again, but this time it was to guide him in close — his movement was slow, uncertain, but tentatively, Kaz rested his forehead against Matt’s and let out another measured breath.

   ❝It’s—❞ His voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat, tried again. Kaz had never spoken aloud about his weakness and Matt had never asked. Now, though ... it seemed as though as good a time as any to clarify. ❝Skin on skin is the hardest, but … if I can prepare myself for it, it’s easier.❞ The touch was incredibly simple, but for Kaz it was like an incessant craving; after it had happened the first time, he’d just wanted it to happen again. He focused on the sound of Matt’s breathing, the faint sensation of it puffing against his face, the warmth of his body heat like before. Alive, alive, alive. Kaz leaned in a little closer, noses brushing softly — he wanted to kiss Matt and … while he had next to no experience at all, he thought he could manage it. He thought he could even enjoy it.

   Finally, he bridged the gap between them, capturing Matt’s lips with his own — he had no idea what he was doing, but … Kaz was nothing if not a quick study. Again, he felt a surge of electricity the moment their lips met, but this time it had been something thick and breathtaking. He let it linger, he didn’t want to stop; he’d never known a hunger like this and it made his chest ache and he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from indulging the hunger that burned through him like wildfire. Regardless, he was careful still, a little uncertain, but … the longer he lingered, the more confident he became.

   Eventually, they had to come up for air, but Kaz maintained the gentle touch of their foreheads, his breathing shaking slightly with every exhale. A smirk tugged at one side of his mouth, soft and teasing. ❝I’m glad we’re on the same page, then,❞ he murmured between them.

 "I came far too close." Of course, he knew that that would always be a risk, given their profession and infamy. They would always be walking targets, no matter how well they might blend into the shadows. Their good intentions made a lot of powerful enemies that didn't appreciate their empires being attacked and their shady dealings being interrupted. But the knowledge didn't make it any easier to accept.

 Sure, once upon a time he'd been afraid of losing his family, too, and in the end it had bothered him far less than he ever could've predicted. But Kaz was different. Matt's family had never loved or cared about him, not really. He was hardly more than a puppet, cast aside as soon as they realized they couldn't completely control him in the end, after all. But Kaz... Matt trusted him with his life, and he had proven time and time again that it was in safe hands with him. He'd never hesitated to come to his aid, to protect him, to care for him, even if there was nothing to be gained from it. Matt couldn't bear to lose him. Not even the thought of it. Even if he himself was willing to lay down his life for the other in a heartbeat.

 In an attempt to distract himself from his own inner turmoil, Matt just scoffed and crossed his arms again. "You clearly underestimate my skills, Brekker. I'm hurt." But the cocky grin didn't last for very long, and he let out a sigh instead. "But you did go with me, and we're both alive because of it, Kaz. A little worse for wear, but it takes more than that to take down Dirtyhands and his Reaper." 

 Neither of them had to deal with the aftermath of losing one another. They were both fine, both alive. But it did make Matt realize that they didn't have all the time in the world. Something could happen any hour of any day and— What if something happened before Matt had the courage to tell Kaz what he truly felt? What if he lost Kaz without telling him that he was pretty fucking sure he was in love with him? Would he ever be able to live with himself, knowing he'd let fear of the unknown win? He'd wasted so much of his life already, was he really willing to waste even more? 

 If he was wrong, if he was misinterpreting everything that was and had been happening between them, then... Perhaps things might be awkward for a while, but at least he'd live his life knowing he had tried. He'd live knowing fear didn't win, and in the end, he'd still be by Kaz's side. That's all he cared about. 

 Before he could change his mind, Matt pulled his leg back so he could lean forward instead. Now or never. It was brief, hardly any longer than a few seconds, but he cupped Kaz's cheek once more and... kissed him. A second, maybe two tops, but it still took all of his courage. Then he pulled away again, too afraid to linger and dropped his gaze back into his lap so he didn't have to see Kaz's reaction. "I don't have it in me to leave. Dead or alive."

[thiefofcrows]

   A faint scoff escaped him, the sound of it suspiciously close to a laugh. Their familiar banter served Kaz in a similar way — it helped ease the nerves that too made his heart race. It also distracted him from the spikes of terror, the sickness that sank like a stone in his stomach. The water sloshed at his ankles, icy cold and menacing, but thankfully, it rose no higher as he worked.

   He actively tried to avoid touching too much skin if possible, but when he did ... desire and longing contrasted sharply with the bad reactions he'd been fighting nearly his whole life. It was slightly easier now that he was no longer a walking infected wound, lashing out with pain at the slightest touch. It was still a challenge, however, and it terrified him.

   He finished bandaging Matt's leg ... and now, Kaz didn't quite know what to do with his hands, aside from placing them in his lap, twining his own fingers together. He met Matt's gaze when he sought out Kaz's, steady and unwavering in their intensity.

   ❝But you didn't, ❞ Kaz offered, his voice softening slightly — he spoke the words almost as if he intended it as a comfort. I'm right here. While Matt wasn't looking, for a moment, Kaz merely studied his features, seeking to memorize every detail — the arch of his brows, the slight crease in-between when they tensed or knit together, the shape of his nose and mouth ... their closeness the day before was vibrant and clear in his mind and, while it scared him deep into his bones, Kaz just wanted Matt to touch him like that again. He took a wavering breath before he too lowered his gaze.

   ❝If I hadn't gone with you ... they could've killed you,❞ the words were painful and enraging to speak aloud, but that was the point. Kaz truly couldn't fathom what he would've done had Matt gotten ambushed, if he'd sent the person he cared about most in the world into a death trap ... Kaz didn't know if he'd be able to forgive himself. He would paint the streets with their blood and make them regret ever laying a hand on his Reaper.

   He cleared his throat quietly before lifting his gaze, those dark eyes of his glistening faintly with an emotional intensity, as if he were trying desperately to communicate every nuanced emotion he felt through them alone. ❝And I would've torn them all apart for it.❞ I can't lose you either. Just tell him. Kaz took another unsteady breath, stealing himself, gathering every ounce of courage he had. Quietly, he said, ❝I don't think I could handle losing you, either.❞

 "Slow down, Kaz." He was about to reach out to stop the other from drinking too much too quickly, but Kaz was already setting the glass back down. He'd done the same multiple times before, before he'd finally learned his lesson — needless to say, it hadn't been fun. Letting out a quiet sigh, Matt shook his head and was about to get up to get some more water — this time determined to make sure Kaz took it slowly, but well aware he needed to rehydrate himself nonetheless — when the statement of him not being okay caught him off-guard. 

 "What do you mean? I'm fine. Maybe a bit exhausted, but—" Before he could finish his sentence, he was being handed Kaz's cane and his confusion only grew. It wasn't until he got up and put proper weight on his leg that he realized what the other was on about. Right. He'd completely forgotten about that. Fucking bastard had stabbed him. Between the realization and Kaz's commanding tone, Matt simply complied and did as he was being told without any further argument. And, quite frankly, he was rather glad for the cane now that there was nothing left to distract him from the pain. 

 Once he'd grabbed everything Kaz had asked him for, he made his way back to the bedroom and sat down on the chair he'd brought along, setting the first aid kit down on the bed. If he was honest, he'd expected to take care of it himself, but before he could even bow down to roll up his pantleg, his chair suddenly jerked forward and he let out a gasp of surprise. As soon as he turned his attention to Kaz's face, he could see the amusement written all over it and let out a quiet huff this time, paired with a playful glare. "Glad you're feeling all better, Brekker." 

 But if the sudden movement of his chair had caught him off guard, Kaz asking him to put his leg up on the bed did so even more. It wouldn't be the first time that Kaz took care or Matt's injuries — as a matter of fact, there'd been a few times before he'd gotten lightly injured intentionally, knowing Kaz wasn't going to waste a Healer's time and would simply take care of it himself — but it was the first time the gloves stayed where they were. Unsure of what exactly was going on, Matt slowly lifted up his leg and rested it on the bed next to the other. His heart, admittedly, was perhaps beating a little faster than it should; which wasn't helped any by the fact that Kaz was starting to roll up his pant leg for him — still without gloves. 

 "I apologize. Can't have that, of course. I'll make sure to clean it up as soon as possible," he said with a hint of both amusement and exasperation. At the very least it served to cover up just how nervous he felt. It might not seem like much, but this was entirely unchartered waters. Matt had picked up on Kaz's aversion to touch early on, and had tried to adapt without making it too obvious, so he'd never asked about it. They'd... been closer lately and there'd been many occasions on which they'd touched, but it had always been brief, and always with layers of clothes in between. But now.. Now there was nothing.

 Leaning back in the chair, he watched closely as Kaz was taking care of his leg, both to gauge his reactions and because he simply couldn't take his eyes off of him. It didn't help that the scenes from the previous day kept repeating themselves in his mind. He wanted to reach out, cup his cheeks once more and see where it would lead this time. However, Matt swallowed those urges and crossed his arms in front of his chest as if he might do something stupid if he didn't. "I'm fine." He didn't pull his leg away once Kaz was done, but instead leaned forward until he caught Kaz's gaze with his own. "I thought I lost you, Kaz. I was terrified." Then he lowered his head and dropped his arms, fiddling around nervously with his fingers. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."