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moonstruck-poet · 1 year ago

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His Love Language

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader!

Summary - This fic depicts Kaz and the subtle ways in which he shows his love.

Warnings - curse words, injury, wounds, blood, fight.

Kaz Brekker noticed everything. Whether it be someone cheating in a game of cards, enemies tailing him during his walk, or even his crows being unlike their usual selves.

Because he always paid more attention to what a person is doing than what they're saying. Talk may thrill, but action reveals.

He had an eye for taking in the details. It was both terrifying and beautiful.

Terrifying for his rivals of course. He knew exactly what to pull off and how to pull it off for them to go insane.

And beautiful for his love, his one and only. Him having such a knack for remembering the littlest of things helped him immensely in his relationship with you.

Not many people noticed it before, not even you yourself. But as time passed, you learned that his love language were actions. Not physical touches, words of affirmations, gifts and presents. No.

But it was all about those small acts showcased by him that made you fall deeper for the bastard of the barrel. Your heart now always took notice whenever he did the most mundane things for you. It immediately took up its pace and reminded you of the exact reason why it still kept on beating.

Your fellow crows took a hell of time to gather just how deep the love of Kaz Brekker was. But once they did, saints were they both shocked and ecstatic.

All of them had their own doubts when they came to know of your relationship. Nobody was a stranger to the fact that both of you were extremely closed off people. Not opening more than what was necessary, and in the case of Kaz, not opening up at all.

But one look at the way you two understood each other without even having to express, made them believe that you two would make each other happy.

===============================

Dirtyhands had struck another deal with a man named Arken Viking. The plan seemed quite simple, understandable even when it was explained.

And naturally everybody was feeling good knowing that they had a hundred percent chance of survival as it wasn't a difficult mission by any means. It just had a lot of steps that needed to be followed and so all seven of them were heavily involved.

Jesper, Wylan, Kaz and Matthias were waiting for the other girls to arrive. It was the final task of the day and they would then carry on again tomorrow.

Jesper was the one to pace around, unable to sit still in one place. He hated waiting more than anything else. Ask him to put up some money for a gamble? It would be done without wasting a second. Task him with shooting something impossibly far away? He'd have it completed before you could say shoot. But staying put in one place, he couldn't do it.

It was only for Wylan engaging with him that he even sat for ten minutes.

"Where did they go?" He grumbled and finally got up, stretching his legs and walking to stand near the two men who stared ahead, their expressions tight.

"They're late," Matthias muttered, trying his best to hide the worry he felt for a specific one but it was useless, all of them knew about his feelings but him.

"It'll be fine, they'll be here soon," Wylan said, standing next to Jesper and blushing very slightly when the tall boy leaned his shoulder against his and let out a sigh.

"You're sure that there's no danger right, Kaz?" Jesper asked and looked at his boss who didn't look away. His eyes firmly set on the road in front of them.

"Yes," he spoke, sure of himself. But there was this slight, very tiny nagging in the back of his mind that something had gone terribly wrong and he clenched his jaw.

But all of their worries dissipated at seeing the silhouette of three women walking towards them.

Matthias let out a sigh of relief once he saw Nina's bright face, him sending a quick prayer to Djel for looking over the three.

Kaz felt himself lighten instantly, his previously tensed posture relaxed as he saw you looking positively unscathed. His eyes found yours instantly and you sent him a smile, while quickly closing the distance between you two.

"You're late," was all he said, his eyes sweeping over everyone before landing on your figure which was leaning against the wall, right next to him.

"Let us live a little, Brekker," Nina rolled her eyes while Inej shook her head, though she too smirked.

"We were worried," Wylan was the one to speak that was on the tip of everybody's tongue.

"All of you?" She said with a raised eyebrow, looking pointedly at Kaz who merely glared at her sharply.

"Obviously!" Jesper exclaimed. "Now that you're all here, we can finally get some well deserved rest. Kaz let's take a room somewhere, yeah?"

"We can't," he said, turning his eyes away from you, rather unwillingly actually.

"What do you mean we can't?"

"Use your eyes, Jes," Inej said with a teasing smile. "Do you see any shops, hotels or anything nearby?"

"Then where the hell are we sleeping?" Nina said with a incredulous look. "I am not going to lie down in the middle of the street!"

Jesper too looked alarmed at the prospect and whipped his head around to stare at their leader.

"You think I'd let everyone sleep on the roads?"

"Can't put anything past you at this point," she grumbled and you laughed making Kaz give you a disbelieving expression.

"There's a warehouse ten minutes from here, we'll stay there for the night".

All of them groaned loudly at the thought of walking once again but soon started their small journey. And once they had reached the place, Jesper quite literally threw open the doors and scanned the area.

"Clean enough," he shrugged and laid the small blankets they had brought onto the floor. "Good night then," he waved lazily and Wylan followed his lead but not before gazing fondly at him for a few seconds.

"You failed to mention this in you plan, Kaz," Nina shot him a look and dragged her belongings to the corner of the room, accompanied by Inej and Matthias.

"Let's sleep, shall we?" You said softly and he nodded, taking off his coat while you arranged the sheets and removed your shoes, sighing at finally being able to rest.

He laid down himself, his body close to yours so your arms brushed a little. "You're okay, aren't you?"

"I'm all good," you turned your head to face him, taking in his features that you so loved. From his dark brown eyes that softened at your reply to his hands placed in front of him, the pale skin shining under the minimum lighting present.

He gave a curt nod and scanned your face once before closing his eyes, depriving himself of your addictive beauty.

"Night," you whispered and turned on your side, one hand under your head for support and the other lying in front. He didn't reply but instead reach ahead to brush his thumb against your forearm and interlocking your little fingers together.

You smiled, him being the last thought in your mind before sleep overtook you.

The rest of the night passed in peace before it was time for the sunrise. Naturally Kaz, Inej and Matthias were the first ones to wake. The rest were all sleeping soundly and soft breaths echoed in the room.

Kaz was looking over the layout of the building once again, making sure that everything would go on without any problems or worries when suddenly your knee brushed against his.

He stiffened at the contact for a second before turning around to see you pulling your legs up to your chest and curling into a ball. He immediately spotted the goosebumps that littered your arms and an unnoticeable shiver pass through you.

His eyes searched for a spare blanket somewhere but found none as all were used as mattresses for everybody to lay on. A small frown marked his lips as his mind raced and landed on a conclusion.

He took his coat that he had used as a pillow and dusted it before gently putting it over your body. Your curled figure made it easier and he adjusted it, making sure the warm jacket covered you completely.

You involuntarily grabbed the collar, your eyes still shut and cuddled into it.

While he felt himself ease up with satisfaction and he shot you one last look, unable to keep the fondness away from his gaze and returned to check the papers.

Matthias who had been watching the unspoken exchange felt his insides warming up at seeing the cold and distant demeanour of Kaz Brekker melting a little for you.

===============================

Predictably, the heist was successful and no one had expected anything less. In fact, it had gone a little more than satisfactory. They had no troubles waiting for them inside the building and no distractions outside too.

So to conclude, everybody was high on the fact that they had managed to pull it off with such stealth.

They were all given their paychecks when they returned back home.

"Saints," Jesper sighed and lovingly twirled the kruge in his fingers while Wylan unknown to anyone else but you shot tiny daggers at those pieces of money.

You hid your smirk, keeping the check in your pocket and walked over to your friend, "I understand, Wy," you patted his shoulder sympathetically while he became red.

"What do you understand?" He asked hurriedly and avoided eye contact.

"Oh come on," you chuckled. "I know about your not so little feelings. You fancy him, don't you?"

"No I don't," he mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe just a little," he added as an afterthought.

You just brought him in a comforting side hug, quite endeared by the boy and ruffled his already wild hair. "I hate to say it, but he's more oblivious than anyone".

"I know," he groaned in exasperation, resting his head on your shoulder as you were considerably taller than him.

"Planning to steal her from Brekker?" Nina's playful words broke their conversation making the others laugh.

"Who's stealing what from me?" The man himself entered, as usual being perfect in his timing of showing up at the most unnecessary of times.

Wylan immediately removed your arm from his shoulder but Kaz being himself obviously glimpsed it. His expression did not betray anything, it was carefully kept stoic and calm. But he couldn't fool you, there was a reason why he'd let you walk fearlessly into his locked up heart.

His eyes seemed sullen for just a fraction of second. He wasn't reacting on the joke, of course not. He was now used to the crows trying to make him jealous. But rather the thing that had made him feel lost, was touch.

His inability to provide you with every bit of himself was killing him inside. For heaven's sake he couldn't even bear to embrace you without feeling as though he were on the edge and one small step would make him fall deeper into the oceans.

He swallowed and averted his gaze making you stare at him even more, trying to figure out what was bothering him.

You got up from your place and went over to sit in a chair beside him, keeping the distance because you weren't sure if he was okay with the proximity or not. But then he himself shifted his chair, and your legs brushed making him pull away quickly.

"Kaz," you said worriedly, moving back a little. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied and you frowned. He knew very well that you could tell he was being untruthful.

He willed his mind to focus on you rather than his surroundings and took your hand in his, taking a deep breath despite the barrier of his glove.

But it wasn't enough, he felt the strange need to be even closer to you despite his brain screaming in denial. And for the second time in his life, he decided to go with his heart and looked you in the eyes, noticing your evident concern as you approached him cautiously.

He gave his surroundings a quick scan. It was only the seven of them and they were all minding their own business. He made a split decision and started taking the glove off of his right hand.

You didn't say anything, finally understanding that he needed your touch and you were more than happy to provide.

He stopped in his tracks after pulling it off, staring at his pale, vulnerable hand.

"It's okay," you whispered softly, fighting the urge to lean over yourself. "I'm here. It's just you and me. You can do this".

He looked unsure but slowly extended it towards you. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before, he had, but it had been quite a long time ago.

He gently brushed his fingertips over your palm and relaxed when no waters rose. He nudged his little finger with yours and looked up to see you before locking them.

Your face held a small, adoring smile. It was so simple, yet so complex. You squeezed gently once and he returned it instantly making you laugh softly.

He felt strange in a good way, as if he had accomplished everything he wanted when he had only heard the sound of your laughter.

"Okay you two stop your gossiping, it's dinner time," Jesper broke the moment and was rewarded with a threatening glare. He just grinned in return when his eyes fell on a hand, Kaz's hand to be specific and his mouth hung open slightly.

"Never seen a hand before?" Kaz raised an eyebrow and swiftly pulled on the glove.

He looked away, his mind still trying to figure it out as he grabbed the plates.

You stood up from your seat much to Kaz's displeasure who shot a heartbroken look your way that you missed. But Jesper caught on as he was sitting right opposite.

He'd never thought that he would live to see the day when Dirtyhands would look sad like a lovesick puppy. He was debating with himself whether he even saw it happening because the look was gone in less than a second, replaced by his usual dark gaze.

But he was cut off from his thoughts when you smiled at him, keeping a plate of food on the table. "Enjoy".

"Yeah, 'course love".

All of them were now sitting at the table for the first time in months. They just never seemed to have a time fixed that would match everyone's schedule. And for most part, they were all lazy as well.

You were sitting at the corner of the table with Nina at the opposite side, her having every bit of your attention at the moment as she chatted away happily much to the disappointment of the man sitting to your right.

"The cake is great, Nina," Inej complimented her and she gave her a wink in return.

"It is nice," Matthias agreed making the said chef blush despite her smirk.

"Yeah I love it," Wylan smiled brightly.

"Oh damn," you winced as the spoon fell down with a loud clatter, breaking the conversation for a bit before it resumed again.

Inej watched you with amusement, laughing at your resigned expression when you bent down to retrieve it with a sigh. But then her eyes widened in surprise.

Kaz Brekker, the most ruthless man she'd ever met was maybe not that uncaring. She merely watched as his hand went to cover the sharp corner of the table as if it was an everyday occurence.

And you got up, putting the spoon away to take a new one when you stopped mid-action to see a gloved hand had been placed inches above your head that would have definitely rubbed against the edge.

At the moment all that existed for you was the person sitting right next to you. You stared at him blankly, planting holes on the side of his face.

He, sensing it turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as though to ask, 'What?'

But you just shook your head and offered him a small smile and you swore you saw his lip twitch slightly.

===============================

"Ready Inej?" You asked, as softly as you could muster though you were shaking inside, knowing that you two only had one shot at this.

"All ready," she whisperer back and crouched down slightly, preparing to jump.

A gunshot was heard and the guard was successfully distracted by the sound giving Inej some time to slip in between the shadows and enter the room.

You had no choice than to shoot a bullet and now they were all alarmed which would make escaping very difficult.

Your eyes squinted in the darkness as you surveyed the room, hoping no one caught a glimpse of you and praying to whichever Saint there was for Inej to finish her job.

"Come on," you muttered to yourself, your legs shaking with anticipation as it had easily been ten minutes since she had disappeared. "Where the hell are you?"

Just then you spotted some movement going on further to your left and loaded your gun while also keeping one hand on the scabbard tied around your waist. Your footsteps were barely heard as they travelled softly on the wooden floor.

Someone had definitely seen you and were on a hunt, all you could do was make sure to stay hidden perfectly. The darkness was surely an ally but an enemy too.

A loud thud was the only warning you had before someone knocked the air out of your lungs making you skid backwards. You gasped, hands pressed to your chest while taking in deep breaths and moving away from the man, buying yourself time. It didn't feel like your ribs had broken but it hurt nonetheless.

You wracked your brain for a sign of another presence but it was only him. "Viking," you growled in anger after he stepped into the light. "I should've known".

He simply chuckled darkly, "You didn't though. Even Brekker failed. So I think I did my work to perfection, yeah?"

"Who else have you got?"

"No one!" He said, sounding strangely happy and you believed him to be a psychopath. "But the same can't be said for you, am I right?"

But you just shrugged, knowing if you spoke he'd be able to distinguish because of your voice. You should think about asking Kaz to teach you how he managed to always control his tone perfectly. But that would only be possible if you got out of here alive.

Not saying another word you charged, knowing using a gun would prove to be dangerous for you if he snatched it from you. Unfortunately, one of your downfalls was thag you didn't have much of a strong grip. And so you took two knifes and attacked him from both sides.

He took on a few cuts, some going deep and you were scarred too. A small one painted your cheekbone, one on the side of your neck and some on your arms.

You fought for quite a time, both being bloody with sweat dripping off your bodies. It was only when you pretended to hit him from your left and he fell for the basic trick, blocking your attack and in turn giving you easy access to wedge your knife straight into his abdomen. You shot him too for safety measures and double checking.

"Motherfucker," you heaved a sigh, wincing after feeling the burn of the cuts littering you and the stickiness of blood. "Fucking finally!" You exclaimed when your friend came into view, panting slightly and you knew she had gotten into a fight as well.

"Atleast we're matching," she said with a smile and pointed at the similar scars on your forearms.

"Yeah sure," you laughed and quickly moved out, not wanting to personally invite trouble.

The journey back the the Slat was a peaceful one, as it always was with Inej. You talked about Arken's betrayal, the documents she'd found and copied and some amounts of kruge that was just lying on the desk.

"Well despite everything, atleast we got it done," you grimaced slightly and opened the door, immediately walking over to the bar to get yourself a shot atleast. You needed the liquor desperately.

"Oh you're h- Saints!" Wylan sputtered, taking in the bloody sight when you turned. "You're drinking whiskey?!"

"Wy," you said, trying to explain before you faced his wrath. "I needed it".

"Like hell you did," he shook his head and called Nina so urgently that anyone would think you were dying.

"Don't- Wylan-" you cut yourself off after seeing his glare.

"Calm your potions, she's not dying" Nina Zenik said after one glance at your figure lounging in the chair.

"But she's injured!"

"Injury and death don't mean the same thing! And she looks alright to me except for a few cuts. Oh you and Inej have matching tattoos now," she said with a laugh.

"Jesper!" You summoned your gunslinger and he appeared right before you. "Take your man away or I'm going to actually die".

The boy got out of his haze of sering you all bruised and bloodied up before smirking a little and throwing a wink. He took hold of Wylan's arm and dragged his away.

"Matthias get me some bandages would you?" Nina asked as she healed the cuts and Matthias who had finished dressing Inej's arm walked over to you.

"Ouch woman!" You groaned and threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

"It's the size of a paper cut! You don't shout this much when you have a literal bullet in your shoulder".

"They hurt more".

She rolled her eyes though a smile was present on her face as she cleaned the blood from your neck and healed the long cut there.

"Where's Kaz?" You asked, not wanting to admit that you had missed him and wanted to be in his presence.

"He's out somewhere, probably finding another deal," Matthias sighed and bandaged your palm.

After some time you were all healed though the scars were as clear as day. You didn't mind them at all because you were convinced they made you look even more terrifying and beautiful.

"You all okay?" You questioned Inej who was sharpening her collection of knives.

"I always am," she smiled and took your knife to sharpen making you give her a grateful look.

It was now almost past eleven at night and you were sitting on the bed in Kaz's room waiting for him. You wanted to see him, had longed for him after being away for almost an entire day.

And the Saints did answer your plea albeit a while later. You heard the familiar tap of his cane and heavy footsteps as he climbed the staircase and opened the door. His eyes sharp but relaxing upon seeing you.

"Mission went well?" He asked and took off his coat and hat while walking towards you and slumping down on the bed.

"Yes, though Arken's betrayal was a great bit of surprise," you said and sat up, unconsciously putting weight on your elbows and arms in doing so and hissing hissing angrily, clutching your sore muscles.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately but when you didn't answer, he got up to turn on the lights and saw your scrunched up face.

And one by one he took notice of the bruises that were turning black and blue, bandages being wrapped around your palm and bicep and a thin but prominent scar on your neck. He swallowed the unfamiliar restlessness, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms and kill the man who had injured you so badly.

"You're hurt," he stated as though you weren't aware of it and closed the distance, sitting as close to you as possible. "You're hurt," he repeated, his eyes flicking from every part of you back to your eyes.

"I was, I'm okay now".

"Who?" He all but spat out, his insides burning with hatred.

"Arken. But I killed him, don't worry".

He eased a little and removed his gloves, cautiously reaching forward to hold your bandaged palm in both of his hands. His breath hitched at the coldness and you made a move to pull away but his grip tightened and he shook his head firmly.

Slowly but surely he relaxed again, feeling comfortable as he unknowingly cradled your hand with such gentleness that you closed your eyes. His fingers traced the edge of the white material, rubbing slow circles.

He suddenly looked up and your breath got caught in your throat at the sheer proximity between you two. You were so close that you could feel the air he heavily exhaled and a faint blush was quick to rise on your cheeks. His dark brown irises staring intently into yours with a flame of possessiveness.

His eyes dipped down to your lips before moving to the scar on your cheekbone and his eyebrows furrowed just a tiny bit. He raised his hand once again, he had only done it once before and the feeling was a huge rival to drowning.

His jaw tightened when the tip of his index finger touched your jaw as softly as a feather. Despite wanting to stay still, you couldn't help it and leaned into his hand, conveying the message that you needed more.

He understood and gritted his teeth, carefully sliding his palm upwards to cup your cheek. His chest expanded as he released the pent up frustration.

This feeling, it was a rival to heaven.

Now that he had touched your skin, he craved more. His thumb softly caressed the scar like it may disappear under his brush. The finger moved at a leisurely pace, soaking in the beautiful feeling for as long as he could hold on.

You couldn't bring yourself to talk after witnessing the tenderness that oozed from his touches and caresses. It was like nothing you had experienced before. The moment felt so precious and for good reason.

You smiled at him, your eyes displaying the immense love that your heart held only for him and also silently thanked him.

He noticed. Of course he did.

And he offered you a gorgeous smile of his own. His lips stretching though not too wide but it was perfect for you and you fell for him yet again.

You found home in his smile and he saw love in your eyes.

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

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Passing The Baton (Six of Crows One-Shot)

Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: To your knowledge, your crush on Kaz is unrequited. Apparently this is not the case.

CW: Kaz is dumb but we love him

SAB/SOC Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Kaz ‘Dirtyhands’ Brekker. Bastard of The Barrel. Also- your unrequited love. Kaz had caught your eye just as he had caught everyone else’s. Everyone knew not to mess with the Dregs, and that was thanks to Kaz. Before he’d risen through the ranks of the club, the Dregs had been no one. Quite literally the dregs of society- and while, yes, that was where the name came from, it was quite the rise to fame as the Dregs started getting more and more popular, and more and more dangerous.

Even the Crow Club was starting to become a real pain in the other clubs’ asses.

But Kaz? He’d fascinated you well before any of this. You’d been working at the Crow Club as a serving girl since before Kaz arrived. Not long, mind, but long enough before that you got to experience both sides of the Dregs’ fortune.

Kaz hadn’t seemed to take much notice of you at first- and why would he? Weren’t you just another serving girl being groped by the drunk patrons? Anything to make a few Kruge. But he did take notice when you threatened to cut the balls off a patron when said patron got a little too handsy one day.

He’d taken you back into his office and thwacked his cane on the table hard enough to scratch the varnish and told you rather harshly to never do that again. To come to him next time there was an issue like that and he’d deal with it… discretely.

What that had meant was clear only to Kaz, and that was fine by you. But that was when your little crush had really taken off. What could you say? You liked a bad boy. Someone who could handle his own and Kaz could definitely handle his own. Cane or no.

Despite telling you off, Kaz had clearly taken note that you weren’t afraid to get your hands a little dirty either, something he had an appreciation and mutual respect for. And so you went from lowly serving girl to, well, still a serving girl, but a serving girl who also took jobs for Dirtyhands and worked with him to secure patronage for the club, and Kruge for his and your own pockets. And for Per Haskell’s pockets as well, you supposed. Lazy bastard.

But you longed for more.

You longed for Kaz’s touch, for his lips on your skin. You longed for his affections as much as you longed for his approval. It was a dangerous combination.

As far as you could tell, he did not feel the same way. But then again, would you have ever known otherwise? Kaz kept his cards close to his chest- as he should.

Today seemed different though. You’d barely made it back from a job and Kaz seemed… angry, to put it lightly. You had no idea why, though, considering you got what he wanted, and made it out alive, too. Win-win.

Inej may have had to save you, but that was beside the point.

“You need to be careful,” he said, mouth pursed angrily. “You can’t be making reckless choices and silly mistakes. This is The Barrel. I can’t afford mistakes.”

You met his harsh gaze head-on and shoved the ledger he’d asked for into his chest with vigour. Kaz didn’t even break the gaze between you, just reached with one gloved hand to take the ledger off you.

“I got what you wanted, didn’t I?”

A muscle in Kaz’s jaw twinged.

“That is not the point.”

You let out an exasperated scoff, removing your hand from his chest with another soft shove. Surprisingly, Kaz lets the action move him.

“Then what is the point?” You ask, frustration evident in your features.

“The point is- oh, for Saints’ sake,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We could have lost you. I could have lost you.”

Your eyebrows practically disappeared into your hairline.

“You could have lost me…” you trail off, echoing his words, feeling them out for hidden meanings.

“You’re a good investment. I don’t like to lose investments.”

Oh. Okay. An investment. You should have known that that was all you were to him. That’s all you were ever going to be to Kaz no matter how much you wished differently. Ridiculous.

“Of course,” you reply, turning to walk away. “Your investment needs a dri-hey!”

Kaz’s gloved hand snatches at your forearm and yanks you back towards him. You re-balance yourself and glare at him, looking between the tight grip he has on your arm and his heated glare.

“Stop,” he says before forcing his features to soften. “I’m not one for feelings.” He practically shudders through the word. “You’re more than that. An investment, I mean.”

You stay quiet, not giving him anything to work with here, but you’re surprised he can’t hear the uptick in your heartbeat.

“Look,” his grip loosens. “I don’t want to lose you. Purely selfish reasons. Not because you’re an investment, but-” Kaz clears his throat and avoids eye contact. “I care for your wellbeing.”

It’s not an outright declaration of love, but it’s about as close to it as someone like Kaz would give. He’d bared his soul to you here. All the fractured, broken pieces of it. He’d bared his heart for you to treasure or smash into bitty little pieces.

You sucked in a breath.

“Are you saying you have feelings for me?”

Kaz grunts and lets go of your arm. You brush your fingers over where he’d just touched you.

“I suppose so, yes,” he said, eyes flitting to the door like he was thinking about making a run for it.

“Don’t suppose it would interest you to know I felt the same way, would it?”

And there it was. Passing the baton back to Kaz. Passing your heart in return for his. Now it was he who held the power to treasure or smash you into pieces.

Kaz finally met your gaze, and his lips ticked up into a small smirk.

“Oh, I knew that.”

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that-one-ostrich-friend · 23 days ago

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Young Love & Old Money

kaz brekker x reader - young love & old money

word count: 3k

summary: this is a kaz x fem!reader fic inspired by elizabeth gerardi’s song “young love & old money”

warnings: maybe angst? other than that none :)

a/n: this is my first fic to be published here so I hope you enjoy! my requests are open if you like my writing and have any fic suggestions <3

It was an unnaturally sunny day in Ketterdam when Kaz saw her. She was sitting in a corner booth at one of Nina’s waffle places with Jesper at her side. He knew instantly who she was, y/n l/n, heir to the l/n fortune and daughter of y/f/n l/n. One could only wonder, what the hell was she doing with Jesper?

“Kaz!” Jesper called him over and patted the area next to him.

Kaz found himself hesitating, eyes still on y/n. She had an air of elegance and vulnerability that captured him, but she lived in a gilded cage— one that even he could not break into.

A wave from Jesper broke his trance. Y/n’s eyes met his, and he looked down as he took his place beside Jesper.

“This,” Jesper began while motioning towards her, “is y/n. She’s a friend I met in my… uh… brief time at university.”

Kaz nodded slightly in her direction. He didn’t want her attention. She came from a life he despised— people who were so rich they never felt pain and who had their tapestries of life woven from silk and gold. Compared to her, he was nothing but the scum that desperately tried to cling to the shoes of those walking on the streets.

He looked up God, why did he look up?

Her face was turned towards him with nothing but warmth radiating from it. Her smile could rival the diamonds that surely covered her mother’s neck.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kaz,” her voice was soft, making his pulse quicken. “I would love to talk, but I have to return home.”

Home. It was a word heavy with meaning. He could only imagine the luxurious estate she was bound to.

“Oh, c’mon, just stay a little longer,” Jesper urged, leaning back into the cushioned booth.

Her eyes met Kaz’s again, this time prompting Jesper to look between them.

“You should at least keep Kaz company while I order.”

She looked down with a small smile that hid something else, mischief perhaps, “Only if he’ll have my company.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” the words didn’t feel as though they came from him. His gaze was still fixed on her.

Jesper whistled as he stood, “I’ll be back.”

They were left alone.

Conversation flowed easily between them. The mood was light as she talked about Jesper and his escapades at university. He had lost track of how long ago Jesper had gone off to “order”. Kaz couldn’t complain; however, he felt a warmth spreading within him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

As the conversation died down and her voice melted away softly, he had a question begging to be answered. “Y/n?”

Her eyes found his again, “Yes?”

“Do you ever get tired of it?”

Her smile faltered, “Tired of what?”

He cleared his throat, carefully choosing his words, “The wealth, the expectations?”

She sighed; it was a very slight sigh, almost unnoticeable, “It can be… tiring, having your whole life mapped out for you.”

There it was. The cracks in her porcelain facade. She was trapped, consumed by a life of luxury, condemned.

Her eyes flicked to the window. The once bright sun was now setting over the dirty city. Jesper wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

She stood up abruptly, “I really need to be getting home.” Her voice trailed off as they made eye contact once more. “I,” she hesitated as if asking permission to say what she was about to say, “I hope to see you soon, Kaz.” She offered him a genuine smile before walking out of the cafe.

Kaz watched her leave, the door chiming softly behind her, and he felt an unexpected ache in his chest. Jesper returned later, laden with waffles and toppings, oblivious to the moment that had just passed.

“Did you two hit it off?” Jesper grinned, sliding into the booth. “She’s a gem isn’t she?”

Gem. She was a gem wasn’t she? A diamond in the rough of Ketterdam.

Kaz composed himself to mask his deeper thoughts, “She’s… interesting.”

“Interesting? More like enchanting! You should ask her out,” Jesper said, his mouth full of waffle “I mean, c’mon. Look at her. You’d be a fool not to.”

Kaz shot him a look. There was too much risk getting involved with her. They were from completely different worlds, and she did not deserve to be dragged down to his.

“Not a chance,” he said flatly.

Jesper rolled his eyes, “Your call, I guess. Just don’t let good things pass you by because you think you’re not good enough.”

The thought lingered in Kaz’s mind, but he quickly brushed it aside. He had no business entertaining such fantasies. Yet, he couldn’t shake the image of her smile, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Days passed, each one heavy with the echo of their conversation. Kaz found himself wandering the streets of Ketterdam, searching for a glimpse of her. He could rationalize it all he wanted—curiosity, boredom—but deep down, he knew it was something more.

One evening, as twilight cast a purple haze over the city, Kaz found himself at one of the docks, waiting to monitor a shipment. He leaned against a wooden post, watching the water ripple under the dim glow of lanterns when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He turned to see y/n, her silhouette framed by the fading light. The sight of her made his heart race. “What are you doing here?” he asked, feigning indifference.

“Just out for a walk,” she replied, stepping closer.

“Isn’t that what your estate’s garden is for?” he realized his tone was too harsh when she quickly looked away and shifted her feet. “I’m, uh, actually… it’s good to see you,” he tried to mend the situation and was met with her smile.

They stood in comfortable silence, the distant sounds of Ketterdam buzzing around them. The world felt smaller in that moment, just the two of them sharing an unspoken understanding.

She broke the silence, “Y’know, sometimes I wish I were you, Kaz.”

“No you don’t,” his response was quick, without thought.

She chuckled lightly, “Perhaps I phrased that wrong. I wish I were the idea of you. Someone with freedom.”

Kaz looked at her sideways, “You don’t have freedom now?”

“My parents run my life until I find a husband with deep pockets and strong connections to support me. A rich man’s jokes are always funny, right?” A hint of bitterness laced the honey that formed her smile.

He wanted to offer her something, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get involved.

He cleared his throat gruffly, “I need to document this delivery.”

Her posture straightened out and she stepped back from him, “Right, I won’t keep you any longer.”

Before she could walk away he called to her, “Y/n!”

“Yes?”

“I hope to see you again?”

The only response he got was a small smile before she turned her back to him. Kaz watched her walk away, the distant sound of her footsteps fading into the hum of the docks. His heart raced, a mix of frustration and longing coiling within him. He could feel the weight of her unspoken words, the desire for freedom that echoed in her every glance.

Days passed and he found himself haunted by thoughts of y/n. He had to maintain the walls that he had built around himself, but the more he saw her absence, the more it felt like an ache in his chest.

One afternoon, as he sat at the bar, Jesper plopped down next to him. “You’re still brooding over her, aren’t you?” he said, smirking knowingly.

Kaz glared at him, “I’m not brooding.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that. You’ve got it bad, my friend. Just ask her out already.”

“I can’t,” Kaz replied, frustration bubbling over. It wasn’t that simple.

“Maybe you’re exactly what she needs,” Jesper said, his tone serious for once. “You might just be the escape she’s looking for.”

That night, Kaz lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his cramped room, Jesper's words replaying in his mind. He couldn’t shake the idea that y/n might be different, that perhaps she could understand the darkness he carried. And yet, the thought of pulling her into his world felt selfish.

A few nights later, unable to resist any longer, Kaz found himself at a lavish charity gala hosted by y/n’s family. He had disguised himself well, opting for a simple dark suit that blended in with the shadows of the grand ballroom. The rich and influential were gathered, their laughter and chatter filling the air, but all Kaz could focus on was y/n.

She looked stunning in a sapphire gown that shimmered in the candlelight, her laughter ringing like music amidst the crowd. For a moment, he simply watched her, captivated by the way she navigated her world with grace.

As the night wore on, Kaz gathered the courage to approach her. She stood by a large window, gazing out at the city, her expression contemplative. He could feel the tension in the air as he stepped closer.

“Y/n,” he said softly, and she turned, surprise lighting up her features.

“Kaz! What are you doing here?” Her smile was radiant, yet her eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty as they looked around.

He pulled back the cuff of his sleeve just enough to expose a few gold watches.

She gasped dramatically, “This is a charity gala! You dare steal?”

He rolled his eyes and gestured around, “As if half of this would go to the poor anyways.”

She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off as a woman’s voice called her name.

“Y/n!” A gloved hand grabbed her arm and pulled her away from him, “I have someone you need to meet.”

Kaz stood there, watching helplessly as y/n was swept into the throng of guests, her laughter fading into the background noise of the gala. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling within him. He had finally worked up the courage to approach her, only to have their moment stolen away by the very life she was bound to.

He turned his back on the ballroom, feeling the weight of the opulence around him—gold-plated chandeliers, laughter laced with insincerity, and the masked faces of the elite. He needed air. The exit beckoned, and he slipped outside, the cool night air hitting him like a balm.

Leaning against a marble column, he forced himself to breathe, reminding himself why he had come to the gala in the first place. This world was not his. Y/n was not his. And yet, every time he tried to push her from his mind, she returned—her smile, her spark, the hint of rebellion in her eyes.

Kaz decided to cut his losses here and return to the Crow Club for the night. As her name lingered in his mind, he found himself picking up a pen and writing a letter addressed to her.

To his surprise, Kaz found a letter on his desk days later. The address was written in thin, elegant ink.

That’s how it happened.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months.

Kaz walked the familiar streets of Ketterdam, the letter from y/n clutched tightly in his hand. It had been months since they started corresponding, and each exchange deepened the bond between them. She wrote about her world—the endless soirées, the suffocating expectations, the empty laughter that filled grand halls. In turn, he shared snippets of his life, the thrill of a successful job, the camaraderie of his crew, the shadows he navigated daily.

Yet despite the distance, their connection felt tangible, like a thin thread woven between two worlds. He often found himself wondering what it would be like if he could just step into her life for a moment, to experience the beauty of her laughter without the weight of her reality bearing down on them both.

Today she had invited him to her estate for a walk in the garden. As he stood before the imposing doors, heart racing in anticipation, he couldn’t help but hesitate. What if she saw him as nothing more than a distraction? A fleeting moment of entertainment. He swallowed hard and knocked, the sound echoing in the silence.

After what felt like an eternity, the door opened to reveal y/n, her face sparkling with joy. “Kaz!” her voice was a melody that wrapped around him. She softly stepped aside to let him in.

Kaz stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “We’ve spent months writing to each other. I was looking forward to seeing you in person.”

As they walked through the lush gardens, the scent of blooming flowers mingled with the tension in the air. They talked about trivial things—flowers, the weather—but underneath it all, Kaz felt the weight of unspoken words pressing down.

After a while, they found a secluded bench beneath a willow tree, its branches swaying gently. Kaz took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “Y/n, I need to tell you something.”

Her eyes widened, and he could see the flicker of hope there, “What is it?”

He leaned forward, searching for the right words, “These past months… I’ve come to care about you. More than I thought I could. You make me feel alive, like there’s more to life than just surviving. I wanted to ask you if you would—”

But she interrupted him, her expression shifting to something more serious. “Kaz, wait. I—”

“No, please,” he pressed, desperation creeping into his voice.

But she looked away, her gaze fixed on the flowers blooming around them, and Kaz's heart sank. She didn’t need to explain the cause of her hesitation.

Silence enveloped them, heavy and suffocating. Kaz’s heart raced as he tried to find words, but nothing came. The moment stretched on, the weight of unfulfilled dreams and unspoken desires pressing down.

Finally, he stood, the ache of rejection settling deep within him. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No!” She stood as well, “I just need some time, I promise. It’ll work out.”

Everything in him urged him to turn away now, get out while he still could, but as he searched her face there was nothing but sincerity. Kaz's heart waged war with his mind. He couldn’t leave her.

They continued to write letters until her’s gradually started to trickle away. He was left to relive their moments through her past writings.

One day as he was doing his rounds in the club he spotted Jesper with a copy of the paper. The cover had a familiar face on the front, y/n. Kaz approached him and took the paper. Flipping through the pages.

“Hey, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Jesper tentatively tried to approach a conversation.

Kaz didn’t look up. His heart felt heavy, the words from Jesper’s mouth barely registering. He’d been expecting this moment for weeks—no, months—but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“I’m going for a walk,” he stated simply.

Kaz walked down the chilly roads of Ketterdam, the newspaper still clutched tightly in his hand. His cane hit the ground harder than it usually did, whether it was due to his anger or the cold, he did not know. Suddenly a very familiar voice called out of the blurry pedestrians.

“Kaz?” He didn’t turn around, he couldn’t. “Kaz Brekker?” Ever so lightly a hand tapped his coat covered shoulder.

He clenched his jaw but as her face came into view he could only whisper her name, “y/n.’’

She smelled like wild flowers and smiled like she had stolen the sun, so beautiful, so out of place in this godforsaken city. However, clouds covered her smile when she saw the paper in his hand and for a very small moment she looked as though she belonged here. “You’ve heard the news I see.”

“Congratulations,” something awful was in the back of his throat, he couldn’t look at her.

“You know, Kaz, I almost called it off,” her voice trailed into nothingness and her hand reached out tentatively.

His eyes caught on the huge diamond that sat upon her finger and he scoffed, “Almost.” Her hand retracted but he wished it hadn’t. He wished for it to rest upon his chest while her lips were on his and their belongings were sprawled across the floor. Tears like acid pricked at the corners of his eyes but he blinked them away.

“I meant what I said,” her cracking voice drew him from his thoughts, “I truly did.” She tilted her head to see his face, “Our lives are just… too different. We could never really be happy together, right? It all just seemed so much better because it was forbidden.”

His lungs stopped working. He was in the middle of Ketterdam and fighting for control over his own body, but he wanted his body to win, he wanted to curl up and die. All he ever was to her was a forbidden fruit. With a forced and shaky breath he said, “Goodbye, y/n,” and he walked past her on unsteady feet. Every fiber in his being begged him to turn around, to go back to her.

“I’ll never forget you, Kaz Brekker,” was that just his mind telling him what he wanted to hear? But he couldn’t turn around because if he did and she was there he wouldn't be able to leave. He would spend the rest of his life in that spot if it only meant he could be with the ghost of her memory.

He forced himself to keep walking.

Somewhere he lost the newspaper.

He kept walking.

And walking.

She was gone.

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call-sign-shark · 10 days ago

Text

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!You || The Darkling x HeartrenderOC!Reader

Summary: A great healer, a terrifying heartrender, you are both the disease and the cure. With such a reputation, living on the run quickly becomes necessary for survival. When General Kirigan, ruler of the Shadow Fold, sets his eyes on you, he doesn't see just a weapon, but the key to his dark ambitions. And, most importantly, the echo to his shadows.

Words: 2.5k

TW: Mention of prostitution, child SA and murder, reader is physically described.

Part I - Keep Moving, Little Girl

Masterlist || Next

The Little Palace was veiled in an eerie calm, which wasn’t very usual for a place that crowded by both young promising Grishas and renowned, experienced ones. The luxurious wall, bathed in the golden light of dying embers, gave an almost supernatural aesthetic to the place. General Aleksander Kirigan sat at his desk, his fingers steepled and his black eyes fixed on the fragile flicker of a single candle before him. The little flame danced, its body undulating as it struggled to keep the surrounding darkness away from the little bubble of warm light it created. The room was silent, save for the crackle of the hearth a bit further, and yet, despite this silence, the general’s mind was far from quiet.

He had heard the rumors countless times over the past few months – it had started with nothing more than vague accounts of a few people found dead in a mysterious and gruesome way, but the narrative slowly turned into a monstrous witch, her hair as white as frost, leaving death and blood in her wake. At first, he dismissed them. Ravka was rife with tales of rogue Grisha, exaggerated to feed the fears of peasants and nobles alike. A chimera created by children to tell scary stories, or skillfully crafted clichés to create a deep-ingrained fear of Grisha by politics. But the more he ignored them, the more the whispers persisted: they spread like wildfire and grew darker with each retelling. The most recent account had given him a pause though: a Heartrender, they claimed, whose power was unlike anything ever seen. From what has been reported, the creature could control men as if they were marionettes, forcing them to turn on each other in a grotesque display of violence. One so-called survivor claimed that, with only a few movements of her hands, he saw his colleague forced to turn the barrel of his gun to his temples and shoot himself a bullet right through his brain. Aleksander had raised a brow at the statement:

Such abilities should not exist. Not without the cursed used of Jurda Parem.

Aleksander’s jaw tightened as he leaned back in his chair. If the rumors were true, this woman was no ordinary Grisha. She was a weapon – an unrefined, dangerous force that needed to be claimed before it destroyed itself or got destroyed. And if she truly possessed the kind of power described, that little white-haired heartrender could be either a great asset to his cause or an uncontrollable threat that needed to be neutralized. Or rather, a problem that needed to be resolved.

The shadows around him stirred, as if sensing his thoughts, their tendrils coiling in anticipation. He, who was often too absorbed by his own plans, surprised himself when he realized that his mind raced through the topic of that wild sorceress, weighing risks and rewards, battling between curiosity and schemes. However, one thing had become certain: he could no longer ignore the whispers. He had to find her. Kirigan rose from his seat, the folds of his pitch black kefta sweeping behind him as he crossed the room with hastened steps. He opened the door to find Ivan, who was waiting just outside, his stoic expression as adamant as ever.

“I need you to gather a small team,” The general said without preamble nor explanation. His voice was long and commanding, but Ivan could sense that he also seemed lost in his thoughts, “We’re leaving at first light.”

The tall Corporalki tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly – the only other expression he had in his palette. “May I ask for what purpose, General?”

“There’s a woman,” Kirigan replied, his tone laced with intrigue but also something darker Ivan couldn’t really pinpoint. “A Heartrender whose power surpasses anything we’ve encountered… At least if the stories told are true.” He paused, his lips curling into a faint and slightly calculating smile, “I must say that these latest accounts intrigued me. If she is what they say she is, she could change everything.”

“And if she’s not?” Ivan asked, his skepticism carefully measured. As much as he trusted General Kirigan, the tall Ravkan man with a stern face couldn’t help doubting. He was a man of facts – not of silly rumors.

Aleksander’s eyes darkened, the flicker of the candlelight reflecting in their dizzying depths. Eyes so black that no one could distinguish the pupil from the iris, “Then we’ll ensure the stories end with us.” He turned back toward his desk without additional explanations, his mind already plotting the route, the approach, and the questions he would ask her. Hair white as the purest snow, eyes as frozen as the deadliest ice desert…There was a part of him that wondered if she even existed, if this was nothing more than another ghost tale spun by frightened villagers. But another part – the darker, sicker and more desperate part – felt the faint pull of something undeniable. He wanted her to be real.

He needed her to be real.

In the back of his mind, General Aleksander Kirigan thought he could almost hear her, like a faint hum carried on the wind. The monster they spoke of wasn’t just some distant threat. She was out there waiting, somewhere in the Ravkan snow, all alone and vulnerable – and she didn’t even know she already belonged to him.

Your shrill scream resounded in the bedroom, bathed in the soft and muted light of Ravkan mornings. Confused, your chest heaved as though you had run for miles even though you had just woken up. Your body was damp, covered in a thin layer of sweat, some locks of hair sticking to your temples.

If there was one thing that plagued your dreams, turning them into terrific nightmares, it was that smell.

The Menagerie smelled of desperation, as Tante Heleen liked to call it. Or rather the awful combination of fun fair treats, sweat, and a dash of discreet, but still noticeable, fragrances of blood. It clung to the air just like the cheap perfume the girls were forced to wear, a sickly-sweet mask that tried hard to hide the rot that lay beneath. One full year had passed since you had escaped from this hellish place and yet, the impression this foul smell was still clinging to your skin and hair, no matter how roughly you washed or how scorching-hot the showers you took were, remained. You had known it your entire life, ever since you were left at its gate as a child. As much as you tried, you couldn’t forget the way your tiny and cold hands tightened their grip around Tante Heleen’s skirt as the woman had dragged you inside, her soft voice cooing false kindness. Like a butcher leading a cattle through the death-smelling corridors of a slaughterhouse.

“You’ll grow into something beautiful,” Heleen had said, glancing at your long white hair while your own eyes surveyed the golden bars at the windows, though you were too young to understand why they were there as well as the malice behind the brothel Madam’s words, “A perfect White Tiger, ma petite chérie.” But the cruel truth was that beauty didn’t save anyone in the Menagerie. It only made you more of a prize to be shown off, sold to the highest bidder and then both used and abused. Beauty was nothing but a poison, a weapon Heleen turned against its bearer in this place made of gilded cages and broken spirits.

By your pre-teens, you had made quite a reputation: despite growing up in this foul nightmare, Tante Heleen never managed to break you entirely. Mastering the art of silence and deadly stares, your unyielding demeanor made you a source of fascination. The bruises on your porcelain skin faded away as quickly as the tears you refused to shed, never succumbing to the horrors clients would make you go through. The same clients who were willing to pay obscene sums not just to touch you but to try and tame you. The men who came for you were often the ones who wanted to conquer that defiance. The ones who wanted to make you scream. Still, you never gave them satisfaction. Worse, they often left more bruised than you because you did fight like a tigress. Even if they ended up overcoming you, your ice-cold eyes would bore into them, frozen and sharp, making even the most depraved feel as though they were the ones who were soiled. No, it wasn’t your beauty alone that drew attention; it was the air around you, heavy with something dangerous.

If being honest with yourself, you had to admit that most of the other girls at the Menagerie didn’t like you. Sometimes, you would catch them whispering about you, sometimes in awe, sometimes in jealousy, but most of the time it was in fear. Why? Because you were eerie. Unsettling, the least. Because you were something else with your pale skin – paler than the Fjerda wolf girl – and long white hair. With the slim hourglass figure and small height, which contrasted far too much with the hatred that burned in your void-like pupils. Besides, you never did much to befriend them: you didn’t weep after being summoned, didn’t cling to anyone for comfort and almost never gave yours to soothe the other poor animals’ pain. The only one you tolerated was the Suli Lynx.

The unsease the others would feel around you only worsened when they discovered that you were a Heartrender. Frightening abilities that manifested themselves one night in an uncontrollable outburst, leading to someone’s brutal death.

The nightmare you had lingered, its remnants jagged and raw. The menagerie’s cages, the laughters, the sensation of hands that burned like brands – they had all dissolved into the room’s silence. “Memories. They are nothing but memories” you told yourself, yet the weight of your not-so-far-away past pressed against your chest like iron shackles.

“Miss, you shall leave the room by eight o’clock.” A voice spoke behind the thick wooden door of the bedroom you rented – a small barren room you had found shelter in for the night. It was no more than a shabby inn, with walls cracked and floorboards uneven. You took off the thin, tattered blanket from you and swung your legs over the side of the bed to sit on the mattress for a moment, your head in your hands. Your fingers trembled slightly, not from the cold but from the residues of the dream.

“Yeah, sure.” You mumbled, staring blankly at your boots sat by the door through your slim fingers, and the satchel rested on the old rocking chair, packed and ready to leave. Never unpacking, that was one of the rules you followed since you fled from the Menagerie. Through the frosted window the snow was falling steadily. Frosty flakes swirled like restless ghosts in the early morning gloom, covering the world outside with a white coat that muffled every little sound. All of them except the relentless thumping of your heart, which threatened to burst your ribcage open.

The floor groaned under your weight as you stood and moved towards the small basin by the windows. Almost mechanically, you splashed your face with icy water, hoping for the chill to chase away the remnants of sleep. When you raised your head to take a look at the cracked mirror, the reflection that stared back at you was a stranger’s — diaphanous, long straight hair as pale as the snow, and eyes frighteningly empty. A doll’s face, your clients said. But no doll could house the kind of fury that simmered in your cursed blood, right?

You turned away, hating what you saw. Minutes later, you were dressed, your boots were laced, and your long dark cloak pulled tightly around you. When you reached for the door, you caught yourself hesitating only briefly… Maybe you could stick around for a while this time… No.

Keep moving.

The cold hit you immediately as you stepped outside. The wind bit you through your cloak like a knife with such virulence that you couldn’t help clenching your jaw. And yet, you welcomed it, let it numb you. Snow crunched beneath the sole of your boots as you walked on a little road, endless and uncertain. With one quick movement, you pulled your hood up and buried your face against the wind, going forward with determined steps. You didn’t know where you were going but you knew one thing for sure: you couldn’t stop moving away from the Menagerie. Not yet. The world might feel vast and empty, but at least there was something usually peaceful in this isolation. Not this morning though.

Even in this desolation, you couldn’t share the unpleasant feeling that you were being watched. It was subtle – a whisper of unease that prickled at the back of your neck, making your hairs rise. As stupid as it sounded, you quickly glanced over your shoulder at the empty snowy forest behind you. Nothing stirred, no sound broke the quiet save for the howl of the wind… And still, the feeling lingered, like a cold thread winding through your thoughts. In a reflex you couldn’t quite control, your hand tightened around your cloak’s collar, not knowing if it was to hide from the cold or from these unseen pair of eyes by shrinking into your coat.

Keep moving.

Above the faraway howl of the wind, a faint whisper seemed to hum at the edges of your senses. It resonated, too soft to be real, but to real to be a hallucination. You frowned as you walked faster, all your senses in alert. It wasn’t words, only a presence, dark and vast, like shadows stretching beyond the horizon. Keep moving! You clenched your fists and tried your best to shove the thought away. It was certainly some kind of paranoia that had gotten into you, fed by lack of sleep, proper food and shelter. A part of you rationalized, telling itself that no one had ever found you yet, and no one would – despite the little… troubles you created on your way. Crystal eyes fixed on the road ahead, your steps quickened as if you could outrun the unease that was gnawing at your mind.

But far away, very far away in the distance, a man dressed in black was studying a map. His gloved finger, covered in the finest leather, hovered over a region marked in red by himself. His lips curled into the faintest smile, as if doing so wasn’t common to him.

“She’s close”, he murmured to the shadows with a voice soft and filled with a quiet satisfaction.

“Are you sure?” They whispered back

“I can feel her,” He replied, black eyes riveted onto the horizon.

Soon, he thought,

Very soon.

Please reblog and/or comment if you liked it. 🖤

taglist: @augustwookie

#the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #ben barnes x reader #general kirigan #the darkling #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan #shadow and bone #darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x y/n #darkling x you #Darkling smut #Darkling x OC #Shadow and bone oc #grishaverse #the grisha series

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petertingle-yipyip · 3 months ago

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STRANGER (v) - KAZ BREKKER

tags: @beekeepingageissome @shadowzena43 @nikfigueiredo @mp-littlebit @starmansirius @hadesnumber1daughter @directioner5life @strvngestark // previously // next

Pairing: Kaz x Davina Rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 4,685

Summary: The spirit of camaraderie and good graces can only go so far. When one Barrel Boss gives a decent person a line, another may give her means for war.

When you got back to your building after finally ditching Kaz, you locked yourself in your room. You stared at your faded features in the mirror for a moment, hating the foreign color that stared back at you. Not quite yours, not quite your father’s.

You yanked your vest overhead and threw it to one side

of the room. You kicked your boots in the same direction before dropping to the floor, your back against your bed. Knocks came from the other side of your door but you ignored them.

You wanted to scream. Breathing felt as if you were prying the bones of your ribs apart. You reached behind you and grabbed one of your pillows. You shoved it against your face and let your head fall back against your mattress.

And you screamed. You screamed into the pillow until you had no voice left and then you cried.

You were beaten, physically and mentally. Kaz would never be your ally or your friend. You were the daughter of the man he hated, and he’d never see you as anything else. He wanted you in pain and he wanted you dead, but not by your father’s hand. Not unless he forced your father’s hand.

You were an idiot, stuck in some pretense of potential based on the few weeks you knew him as a child. You were clinging to sentiment, thinking you could right the horrific wrong your father had done to Kaz through partnership. You thought Kaz had cared for you still, that you two had forged a real friendship when you were younger and that it could’ve survived just as he did.

But you were wrong.

You understood Kaz only saw the King’s Daughter, the blood kin of the man that caused his brother’s death.

Fine, you thought as you had drifted off after practically crying yourself to sleep. I’ll show him just how like my father I can be.

Nights were always worse after he saw Davina, Kaz realized. Sleep was fitful in general, the only unguarded time when memories of his brother could creep in. But on the days he crossed paths with her, she managed to appear then too.

He’d dream of the water, climbing up and threatening to consume him. He felt the pressure in his chest as the air ran out and the water demanded he let it in. His brother’s voice floated through and told him not to open his mouth.

I won’t. He swore, even as it was freezing and the pressure felt like it would explode inside him.

Every night, he felt his resolve break and he would open his mouth. He’d wake in a start, clutching his chest and tasting the salt water. But on those few and far between nights, before he could give in, a pair of hands came to drag him out. Warm hands, a soft and reassuring voice, wide and bright eyes.

It was Davina.

She was there, reaching for his hands. She didn’t shy away from him. She spoke to him with a kindness he didn’t think he deserved. She cared for him, wanted to look out for him. At least that’s how it was in his dreams.

The night after the meet in the Exchange, as he was laying in his bed with his hands folded behind his head, he couldn’t get the picture of her face out of his mind. The way she studied his reactions, despite how he tried to hide them. The Kaelish features she never had before. The way her face dropped when he didn’t seem surprised when her father showed up. The shift in her expression when she came to some decision, hard eyes and set shoulders with a proud tilt to her chin.

He was particularly fond of the way her eyes lit up when Wylan and Inej had begun the flashes, reflecting the colors and shimmers that illuminated the front of the Exchange.

He remembered thinking of how he hated the false image she wore, how brilliant her expression would’ve been with her true eye color. Without the scatter of freckles. The shadowed red hair color that suited her new life. The mature shape of her jaw and cheekbones. The Davina he recognized. His Vina.

The next morning, he woke with a new weight in his chest. What he had done, sending word to Pekka Rollins, had crushed whatever faith Davina had in him. He watched it in her eyes, heard it in her voice. The guilt of that sunk into his bones, weighed him down almost literally.

He knew it had to be done. He had to hurt her enough to drive her away. He didn’t deserve her, not in any way he thought was fair to her. No matter how her smile warmed him inside, no matter how her touch was the first time he didn’t feel the need to run, no matter the silk of her voice or deep rooted want he felt to keep her. He had to get her to leave him because Kaz knew who he was.

He was selfish, and if he had the chance or the courage, he’d keep her to himself as long as he could.

For a while after that, you avoided Kaz and the Dregs. You still sent Kol to learn from Nina but you didn’t accompany him anymore. He told you that Nina had asked about you and while it seemed to ease some of the burden, it wasn’t enough to change your mind. Instead, you sent him with a stack of waffles and a silver bracelet you had snagged off a Merchant’s daughter as an apology.

You took up more pickpocketing as you walked around the Barrel. It was never anything excessive, a money clip here or a watch there. You even managed to snag a jewel encrusted brooch off a soft-faced woman who was all too willing to help you when you “stumbled”.

You even stole one of Kaz’s tricks and began practicing sleights of hand. Granted, he was much more practiced but when you wore your long sleeves, you were rather successful.

The Poisoned Rook was doing well. You stationed your Snakes at the gaming tables and for security while some of the original staff stayed on for the bar and serving. You and Melli fixed up the small stage you didn’t know the place had when you bought it and started featuring live music on weekends. That renovation was highly popular with the University students that were brave enough to peruse the Barrel’s festivities.

You were in your shared office at the Rook with Melli when the commotion near the gambling tables. You two shared a worried glance but you fixed your hood over your head and she was right behind you. You wiggled through the crowd, finding Kol and two other Snakes surrounding a boy at one of the Maker’s Wheel set-ups.

“And what is all this?” You spoke loudly, causing every head to turn.

“Our friend here is insistent that you would give him a line of credit.” Kol explained, gesturing to the boy. “He wanted to speak to you and wouldn’t accept no as answer.”

You glanced over and without even seeing his face, you sighed in realization. The pearl handled revolvers gave him away.

“Bring him to the office.” You waved a hand and Kol escorted Jesper towards your office while you turned to Melli. “Take care of this, will you?”

“What’s Jesper Fahey doing here?” She asked you quietly.

“That’s what I intend to find out.”

“Wait.” She reached for your arm. “You two aren’t going to fight, are you?”

You tilted your head back and forth as if you were considering the idea. You grinned when she frowned at you. “Sweetest Melli, I wouldn’t fight him in our shared office… Not when he has those damn pistols. The man’s a talented gunslinger after all.”

“Davina.” She hissed.

“Oh, relax.” You laughed. “I know when I’m outgunned, Mel… But I won’t admit it to him.”

You shook your arm free and headed back to the office. Kol had posted himself at the door so he opened it as you approached. You nodded in thanks as you passed him. When you entered, you found Jesper idly wandering the space, picking up trinkets on Melli’s desk.

“I don’t suggest you pocket those.” You commented and pushed your hood back. “Melli will be quite upset to find those missing.”

“Hello, Davina.” Jesper grinned, putting down the object. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Is it?” Your brows raised. “Let’s discuss this ‘line of credit’ then.” You sat behind your desk and he took the open chair on the other side. “Do the Dregs not pay you enough?”

“They pay me just fine.” He said defensively.

“And yet here you are.”

“It’s not that I’m not paid enough. I just can’t always walk away from a bad hand. There’s just that feeling that something is going to change.”

“On that, you and I may be similar.” You nodded slightly, thinking of every poor hand you’d been dealt in regards to Kaz. You cursed the thoughts immediately. “Tell me, honestly, Jesper. That night at the Exchange, when my father came out the shadows, did you know what Dirtyhands had planned?”

“No.” He shook his head sadly. “I wish he would’ve told me but… Well, that’s Kaz for you. He’s always got a plan that only he knows. I’m sorry he did that to you.”

You leaned over and flicked through some papers in a drawer. “And when I had you walk my Grisha friend away, you trusted that I said he wouldn’t harm you.” You faced him, laying the paper flat in front of you. “Why?”

“Kaz said I could.” He shrugged slightly.

“Brekker said to trust the Heartrender?” You almost laughed as you reached for a pencil.

“Not quite… He said to trust you. You said he wouldn’t use his powers, and he didn’t, but Kaz said that you were honest enough as far as Barrel Bosses go.”

You tapped your pencil on the desk. You hated the bit of pride that swelled in your chest at the idea of Kaz considering you one of the Bosses. “Hmm… Well, in the name of camaraderie and good faith Brekker showed, despite the nasty trick of my father, I’ll offer a small line of credit from my personal coffers. You’ll owe me rather than the Snakes.”

His eyes lit up and he sat up a little straighter. He offered you a wide grin as you filled in the paper.

“800 kruge, to use here and only tonight. Whatever you don’t spend will return to me and be considered part of your payment.” You spun the paper and slid towards him, along with the pencil. “Sign this, agreeing to payments no less than 100 kruge every four weeks until we are even. Your first payment is four weeks from this night. However, should you miss a payment, I’ll add a 50 kruge fee.”

“You consider 800 kruge for one night small?” His eyes nearly bulged from his head. You simply shrugged. “Being the Princess of the Barrel has its perks then, eh?”

“If you mean by flipping my father’s least profitable endeavor and swindling his money right from under him through my own account, then yes. There are some.”

He signed the paper while you counted out the loan.

“You know…” He began slowly, as if he were still choosing his words. “I’m not quite sure how you and Kaz know each other, but he’s different towards you.”

“What makes you think we know each other?” You didn’t look up from counting.

“Kaz doesn’t trust anyone.” Jesper said plainly. “Especially not right from the start. And…”

“And?”

“The way he looks at you. You may not see it, but I’ve spent years with him. It’s small, admittedly, but I swear something changes when he sees you.”

“Burning hatred, maybe.” You handed the money over. “I am still a Rollins after all.”

“Just give him some time. You’ll see what I mean.” He took it with a small smile and nod.

“The next time I see Dirtyhands, I wouldn’t be surprised if it leads to a fistfight.” You shooed him away. “Enjoy the rest of your night with us at the Rook.”

He bowed dramatically before he strode out, a new glint in his eyes and swagger in his steps. You shook your head slightly before you filed the paper and blew out a sigh. You wondered if that was the smartest thing to do, but Jesper hadn’t done anything unkind to you. He seemed a good man, so what was a few hundred kruge to a Crow at the end of the night? He’d likely spend it all and it’d come back to your gang anyways.

The night with Jesper had been six weeks ago, and the gunslinger had yet to make a payment. You tapped your knuckles against your desk in thought.

You could send Snakes to tail him, catch him and rough him up enough to get the point across that he was still expected to pay. You had asked around during those weeks and learned Jesper had several creditors throughout the Barrel and they were all hoping to catch him, which meant if you did use a show of force, it might not immediately lead to you. However, if it did, it’d very likely be enough for Brekker to move against you.

You also considered doing nothing. Jesper was bound to come through the Rook again, considering your strange unhostile interactions, but that would mean he would either need or have money. Either option boded well for you, but you didn’t want to wait around for a possibility. You had a signed paper agreeing to your terms, and you had every right to hold him accountable.

So you would.

You dawned your hood, placed the blades - in the sheath and hidden under your jacket sleeve - and set out. You moved easily with the crowds, sneaking your hands into pouches and unclasping bracelets and watches as you did. Groups of people under Komedie Brute costumes loudly passed through, playing up their roles dramatically. You passed street performers and beckoners at the fronts of the pleasure houses, sweet perfumes wafting from each doorway.

You passed the White Rose and a pang of guilt stung under your ribs. You paused, considering a visit to Nina. You thought she’d like one of the bracelets you lifted that night. But the thought of the jewelry led your thoughts to the empty chain still sitting around your neck, under the high collar of your shirt. The chain that was still missing your ring.

You set your shoulders, decided you’d close two debts you were owed from the Crows, and continued on.

When you stepped to the door of the Crow Club, you drew your hood back. You pulled your sleeve down to ensure the retractable blade was hidden under your cuff, patted the sheath and felt the hard material against your collarbone, and took a deep breath.

The dark facade was more than intimidating and the weathered crow that sat like a guardian was no help. The barker tried pushing you through the door, but the glare you pinned him with made him leave you alone. The doorman looked at you questioningly but said nothing, just gestured for you to go in. You offered a tight smile and considered turning around, but then he opened the door and gestured again.

With your head held high, you stepped inside.

You scanned the crowd as you made your way through the tables. You didn’t see Brekker or Jesper, which led you to realize it would be a long night of waiting considering you didn’t think to ensure they would be there.

You were offered a glass of kvas from a tray and you pulled a bill from your boot. You placed it on the tray and picked up the glass. You sipped it, trying not to cringe at the drink, still scanning the crowd.

You had three options. The first was the obvious, wait around and see if they came back. The second was also obvious but a hit to your pride, to leave. The third was likely the worst, bat your lashes and speak with enough flirt to get someone to lead you to Brekker’s office. And as tempting as that option was, it left the possibility of Brekker being in the office.

Drink in hand, you wandered the place. You noted the darker decor, crows embellishments along the cloths of the tables. Card games were going all around, Maker’s Wheel as well. You held back the whistle you wanted to give.

The Crow Club had quite a leg up on the Poisoned Rook.

You found an open seat at one of the card tables so you played a few hands. You watched the dealer more than your own cards. It was something you had picked up during your youth, running around the Emerald Palace and hiding behind the tables to avoid your father. You had taught the same tricks to your own dealers and you were watching the planted winners.

You bet strategically, knowing when to win and when to lose, taking big and small pots but never losing the big. You made more money than what you came in and by the time you decided to give up for the night, you were in your third glass of kvas, despite not liking the drink.

You were standing to leave when a hand landed on your shoulder. You froze, hesitant to flick the blade out with the overwhelming Dreg presence, and waited. No knife or bullet came so you turned to see who touched you. Your brows furrowed at the unfamiliar man.

“Well, well.” The man announced gruffly, causing more heads to turn and for you to shift anxiously under the new attention. You wanted to bolt, but the hand on your shoulder kept you in place. “What an honor this is. Stay a bit, girl. Let’s chat, have a drink.”

“No, thank you, Sir.” You put on a polite smile and removed his hand. “Unfortunately, I do have someone waiting for my return.”

“The Snakes?” He asked and you tensed, even more aware of your hidden blade. Your eyes darted to the side and you noticed everyone else from your table had gone, even the dealer. You had assumed you were caught for counting cards, not caught as a Snake. “They’re anxious for your return, I bet. Given you’ve come here alone.”

“I don’t need an entourage to traverse the Barrel.” You defended. “I’m not a child, nor am I helpless.”

“Of course not.” He laughed which turned into a short coughing fit. “Given the way… You’ve shaken… My- My lieutenant.”

You raised a brow at the state of the man. This was the head of the Dregs? Maybe Brekker really was the true power.

“Come.” He waved for you to follow. “Let’s talk some.”

Hesitantly, you did, and you were led to one of the private gambling parlors. No one would see if Haskell raised a hand towards you, but that just meant they wouldn’t see what you did either.

“What business?” You answered, not coming too deep into the room. “You think I care for you lieutenant?”

“Maybe not, but you’ve thrown the boy for a loop, which means I need to know more about you, Rollins.”

Your lip curled into a small sneer and that made Haskell smile.

“You don’t look like your namesake. Good thing, too. He’s one ugly bastard.”

“You seem to be no prize either… Sir.”

“Listen, let’s not turn this into something nasty, eh? We can have a chat, have a drink, and I’ll send you on your way.” He tried.

An old way of doing business, a chat and a drink. Those kinds of meetings usually end with broken glass and beaten egos, at least that’s how you learned it. You needed an advantage and fast.

“Is this about Dirtyhands or is it about the Rook?” You leaned a hip against the table.

“A nice little setup over there, I admit. I hear your music is a hit.” He pulled on a rope and one of the servers came over. They shared a few hushed whispers before he disappeared. “However, it’s in my territory, girl. Kaz tried to make a deal with you and yet… He came back with nothing.”

“It wasn’t a good deal.” You shrugged.

“What you need to learn is that you and your Snakes are new around here. There’s dues to be paid.”

“My father is the self-proclaimed king, which makes me more than just a girl. I built my Snakes from nothing. I earn their loyalty rather than buying it.”

He guffawed and you flicked the blade out as a reflex. He didn’t seem to notice it so you tucked it back away.

“You bought the Wraith’s affiliation, but Brekker earned it. You probably gave the Fahey boy a line of credit with ungodly interest to keep him trapped. I’m still trying to uncover how you managed Nina Zenik, but I’m thinking that was also Brekker.”

“Watch your tongue or I’ll have it removed.” He warned.

“You’ll need Brekker for that, and I’ve given him that same threat before.” You laughed. “Even though his last attempt at torture didn’t get him much.”

You tapped the scar on your cheek.

“Besides, despite our falling outs, I’d think mutilating his only daughter just might put you on Pekka Rollins’ bad side.”

The server from before came back with two glasses of kvas.

“Have a drink.” He offered and the server brought you the glass. “It’s from my personal collection.”

“I’m not much for kvas and I’ve had my fill tonight.” You gently pushed the glass away but it was insistently shoved into your hand

“I’d like to buy a twenty percent holding in your Poisoned Rook.” Haskell tried, swirling the contents of his cup before downing the entirety of it. “Name your price.”

“I’m not interested in selling.” You shot back. “Dirtyhands had a chance for a deal and he failed. Making it now will look like I came here for it and I didn’t.”

“Why are you here then?”

“Is it not enough to want to see what his efforts have accumulated towards?” You shrugged.

“This was not Brekker.” He slammed a fist on the table. “It was me!”

“Right.” You nodded slowly. “Bit desperate to prove that, aren’t we?”

He reached for your arm but you spun away. You pushed off the table and moved to the other side, far out of the old man’s reach.

“Everyone in the Barrel knows where the strength and power of the Dregs comes from.” You spoke simply. “Kaz Brekker.”

“You speak of what you do not know, just like your father it seems.”

“Yes and if you wish to remain in my good graces, I suggest you cease the comparisons.”

“You’re a wretched little thing.” He spat.

“You know, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten that.” You gave a small head tilt. “I’m starting to take offense to it.”

“State your true business here, Rollins, and be on your way.”

“One of the Crows owes me money.” You purposefully avoided calling them his Crows. Even if the Dregs were technically his, Jesper’s loyalty was to Brekker first and foremost. “Another has something that belongs to me. I’d like it back.”

“You’ve come to settle debts! Wonderful!” He jumped up and nearly threw his empty glass, seemingly forgetting the string of insults he had just thrown your way. You took a quick step back. “How much are you owed? I’ll pay you out right now for that twenty percent.”

“Twenty percent would be worth ten times what I’m owed.” You shot back. “And you cannot buy out what is rightfully mine.”

“Dammit, girl.” He complained. “You’re as pigheaded as your father!”

“There are worse things to be.” You muttered into the glass.

Something about that kvas tasted different, sweeter than the previous glasses you had out in the main lobby. You wondered if Haskell kept the better things for himself and served cheaper brews. You wouldn’t be surprised, considering you had your bartenders water drinks down a bit.

“I will not sell, not unless I have no other options. And believe me when I tell you that I always have options” You continued. “And it seems the men I need to see aren’t here, so I thank you for your hospitality, Sir. But now, I must see myself off.”

A commotion of cheers came from the main parlor. You peaked out the door and saw Jesper being welcomed in, Brekker trailing not far behind. You moved to pull the door all the way when Haskell slammed it closed.

“While I am anxious to see you gone, you haven’t finished your drink.” He smiled and you could see the malice in the grin. You eyed your cup cautiously. “It’d be rude not to.”

You considered throwing the drink in his face. You thought of smashing the glass on the floor, or maybe the side of his head, and running. You thought of letting the drink fill your mouth and then spitting it on the old man.

But you did none of those things, for your mother would’ve blanched at the idea of poor table manners. Your father may have raised a criminal, but your mother raised someone with better manners than that.

You heard her voice in the back of your head, saying to swallow the drink and wash it down as soon as you were out of sight. ‘Stroke a man’s ego and he just may be more willing to cooperate later on. All men want is praise after all. Well, that andmoney.’

So that’s what you did. With a grimace, you downed the contents of the drink. You let the glass fall to the ground beside you and pushed past Haskell to the main parlor.

The noise was now too loud after coming from the private room. The windowless place seemed too bright, the room too warm. You itched to put your hood up, to hide in the shadows the fabric offered, but you couldn’t. You took a deep breath and looked around, trying to find Brekker and Jesper.

It was too much.

You turned towards the exit and ran into someone. You offered an apology but the words didn’t sound right as you said them. It was your voice and it was Kerch, but your voice sounded far off, like someone was speaking for you from the other side of the room.

You turned and saw Haskell muttering to one of the Crows. He saw you looking and tipped his empty glass towards you. Your lip curled into a snarl.

“Bastard.” You muttered and felt a hand around your arm. You turned quickly and saw Brekker was the one you had run into. “All the Saints and their useless fathers.” You complained.

“Davina?” He spoke quietly, furrowed brows as he scanned your face. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it customary to… To introduce yourself when you… When you…” The ground shifted beneath you. The room spun. The walls stretched and then shrunk. The noise of the room escalated to an overlapping hum of sound.

“Davina!” Jesper’s voice was a muffled thing that barely cut the buzz.

You wanted to turn and face him, but you knew doing so would only make your head swim more. You reached a hand out and latched onto Brekker’s arm to steady yourself. The thick material of his jacket seemed the only real thing your head could find.

“Is she alright?” Jesper asked Brekker.

“I’m not sure.” Brekker answered but his hand seemed to hold your arm tighter. “Davina? What’s happened?”

“Haskell…” You tried but your throat felt dry, as if it’d been filled with sand. “The dri-“

You couldn’t even finish the words. You collapsed into Brekker’s arms.

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lookwhatyoumademedohaha · 2 years ago

Text

The One Where Kaz Brekker Considers His Life Choices

Summary: Kaz Brekker is a deadly Barrel Boss who has the most dangerous task at hand... To deal with the chaotic shenanigans that you pull with the Crows.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader, Six of Crows X Platonic! Reader.

Warnings: Lots of humour, fluff, chaotic energy of our Crows.

A/N: So I'm down with a terrible cold and fever and in my delirium, I came up with this story inspired by John Oliver and B99. I hope you like it. Let me know your thoughts in the comments. Happy reading!

"Dammit." muttered Kaz under his breath as he searched for your face through the Crow Club because he was a hundred percent certain that you were responsible for his present headache as he controlled himself "No, I love Y/N, she's my friend, she's my friend who is good at her job..."

Kaz was fairly certain he looked like a lunatic but finally he spotted you at the Crows private table laughing with your friends.

He marched up to you with his stony expression as he overheard Jesper announcing his plans "I think I might customize my revolvers."

Wylan immediately interjected "What? How are you going to do that?"

"I was thinking really bright colours like purple,pink and orange to match my outfits and maybe engrave my name." said Jesper thoughtfully while all of them rolled their eyes and laughed "I mean, it's going to be so much fun!"

"Oh yes! So fun! Absolutely fun!" you mocked Jesper in a high pitched tone as you smirked at him "Or when you commit murderer, a grave oversight on your part. Good news Chief, we found Fahey's revolvers at the murder scene."

Jesper stuck out his tongue at you childishly while you replied sarcastically "We do not know what motivated him to go on a killing spree but he had a lot of fun with it."

Kaz stood behind you "Y/L/N"

"Ah Kaz, you're looking very happy today." said Nina brightly as she greeted him infuriatingly "Let us guess what happened based on your facial expression. You got offered a job with a lot of Kruge and high stakes?"

Inej joined in the fun "Pekka Rollins finally died?"

Maththias' smirked "He found a life of charity and prayer."

Everyone nodded in agreement and Wylan grinned "He's about to reveal that he's actually Nikolai Lantsov!"

"Saints! Wylan, he's about to reveal that he's secretly married to me and has secretly raised my baby!" cried Jesper dramatically as Kaz thought of resignation from this life.

"All of these options is probable. But I know the Captain. He's having a meltdown." you announced dramatically exasperating Kaz who hadn't got one word in since this conversation started.

Matthias looked at you pointedly and then at Kaz "What are you talking about? The demjin looks the same as he always does."

"To you perhaps. But I have mastered the art of reading his emotions. His lips are tightly sealed, he's gripping onto his cane as if he's trying to control himself and he's blinking at his three second intervals as opposed to his nine." you observed Kaz closely with a knowing smile surprising Kaz who was tongue tied and speechless that you could easily read him "Therefore, he's having a meltdown!"

Wylan intervened as he shook his head at you fondly "That seems excessive."

You grinned "No, I'm impressive."

Nina knew that you were telling the truth based on Kaz' heartbeat she heard as she queried sweetly "So Waffles, is everything okay?"

Kaz glared at Nina and then at you "No. I'm having a meltdown."

Wylan and Matthias gasped at you as if you were a Saint "Wow."

Kaz decided to speak before anyone could interfere "Who the hell is responsible for the mess?"

"You have to be more specific about which mess given out daily life experience." retorted Nina sassily.

Kaz eyebrows furrowed deeply "Alright. The slogan outside the Crow Club and the Slat? Who did it?"

There was silence as everyone pointed toward you who looked unremorseful as you smirked at Kaz who was fuming in rage as he turned his dangerous gaze upon you "As I suspected. Now you better have a goddamn good reason as to why you would do such a silly, stupid, idiotic act?"

You looked completely calm for a person who was about to feel Kaz Brekker's wrath "Clear communication and marketing to our customers."

Kaz couldn't quite comprehend what you said as he stuttered "Excuse me?"

"Well Kaz, to tell you the truth, people in Ketterdam weren't really clear on where we were coming from... you know our main objective as to why we steal,maim and kill so much." you explained nonchalantly and calmly that made Kaz feel as if he was the idiot in this conversation. "So we put up a slogan to educate everyone in Ketterdam, our objective in pursuing destruction and crime."

"It's rather a genius slogan, Y/N." praised Inej with a kind smile "The ones we came up with were sloppy and funny but Y/N understood the assignment."

Kaz realized that you had come up with the goddamn slogan yourself as he literally let out all his exasperation out "Yes but did the slogan of the Dregs have to be BECAUSE DEATH IS THE UNDENIABLE FUEL OF LIFE!'"

"I think it's very classy, professional and straightforward conveying the necessary message." commented Matthias with honest admiration for your work and grinned at how red the demjin was "People won't like it but at least they'll understand and respect where you come from."

All of them exchanged mischievous glances as they saw Kaz close to spontaneously combusting and had to hand it to you. This was the best prank they played on Kaz and honestly at this point, you should be appointed as the Prank master General of the Dregs.

"I can't believe you would do something so stupid!" burst out Kaz in despair and anger.

You remained completely unfazed while Nina, Matthias, Wylan, Jesper and Inej snickered in unison "Can't you?"

"Shut it! I know you lot encouraged her to do this." snapped Kaz in frustration as he pointed at the rest of his friends who grinned

Kaz looked at you once again as he took a deep breath "And why did you place this slogan in bright and glittering colours as bright as Jesper's irritating fashion sense?"

"Because people are more attracted to bright colours and like glitter. Like if I saw that message in black, I'd be afraid but since it's in pretty bold sparkling colours, everyone kind of digs it." you said smartly while the rest of the Crowd clapped proudly for you "They are not like afraid. They are more like... Oh my god Kaz Brekker is about to murder me. Go right ahead Kazzle Dazzle, just whack me -"

"Alright thank you, that's enough." interrupted Kaz hastily and briskly because he did not want to hear the end of the sentence.

Amidst the Crows loud laughter, Jesper hooted "They're like... I'd die for Kaz Brekker and honestly he'll let me. Brutal!"

"The way I consider murder illegal but if Kaz Brekker is doing it, make me the victim." replied Wylan with a teasing smirk.

"CHOKE ME TO DEATH DADDY BREKKER, HALLELUJAH!" you yelled loudly as you raised your glass while Kaz was completely red in the face, embarrassed by his friends drunk shenanigans and chaotic energies.

"Daddy... It's a kink isn't it? It's like a paternal thing?" explained Nina with a wink to Maththias' who had inquired about it.

"Alright Freud." retorted Kaz rolling his eyes at Nina who laughed as he hoped to shut down this conversation quickly "I don't understand why you chose that particular slogan. It sounds like an excerpt from a letter of a serial killer!"

You looked at Kaz with a deadpanned expression "How many killings does it take for a person to be a serial killer?"

Kaz was slightly taken aback but answered nevertheless "Er... Five?"

"Great. We're all serial killers." sighed Jesper dramatically as he looked pointedly at Kaz who obviously had the highest body count.

"Not me." stated Wylan with an innocent smile.

"Bitch please!" chorused everyone together in disbelief as they glared at Wylan who was hiding a grin and you added "You have the second highest body count and you're relatively new."

Jesper grinned as he placed a kiss on Wylan "Well that's my man! He's spectacular at everything he does!"

Kaz gave up. There was no point talking to you.

"Fine. Those slogans are to be taken down tonight -" began Kaz when Rotty came toward them

"Sorry to interrupt boss but there are more than eighteen people and some other gang members queued outside waiting to be initiated as part of the Dregs."

You smirked into your drink as you heard Kaz retort "What is the meaning of this?"

"Uh... The new slogan is real popular boss. People want to be part of the Dregs because we showed them out vision and they like it." said Rotty vibrating in excitement "Also, the customers are pouring in more boss! I think it's the glitter they like -"

"Thank you Rotty. I'll attend to it. Dismissed." said Kaz as he felt your infuriating and insufferable smirk burn a hole through his skull.

"Oh Captain... I believe it's time to say those very special words." you crooned sweetly as you watched Kaz' lips twitch once.

"Y/L/N... you're a genius." stated Kaz in a deadpanned expression and watched in amusement as you nearly choked on your drink while the rest of the Crows were checking their drinks for toxin trips.

You squealed in delight "OH MY GOD! YOU ACTUALLY SAID IT! IT'S REAL!"

"I heard you practicing it to yourself in your room last night." said Kaz calmly and deadpanned as he smirked at how your enthusiasm slightly faded but you were still grinning.

You nodded "That makes more sense. So are you like now going to give me a raise, or a -"

"You're an idiot, Y/N." said Kaz with a subtle exasperated and amused smile and walked away.

"THANK YOU? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SAY THANK YOU CROWFATHER!" you yelled out loud in exasperation and amusement as everyone laughed.

Inej smiled "Honestly, I didn't expect the prank to turn into something profitable."

Jesper frowned slightly "Yeah it kind ruins it all, doesn't it?"

"Never fear my friends. Kaz is a prankster's delight." you replied with a delightful smile, mischief glinting in your eyes.

Before anyone could ask what you meant, Kaz Brekker's mad voice rumbled across the Crow Club "Y/N Y/L/N! WHAT ARE ALL THESE CONGRATULATORY LETTERS I'VE RECEIVED FROM DIGNITARIES ALL OVER THE WORLD ABOUT THE FACT THAT I AM TO BE MARRIED TO THAT STRUTTING PEACOCK ZOYA NAZALENZKY AT THE CHURCH OF BARTER IN KETTERDAM IN TWO DAYS?"

"What?" exclaimed Jesper in amazement

Nina, Wylan, Inej and you exchanged amused stares "Who's going to tell him Zoya is in on this and is actually coming here tonight?"

"You know what, never change, Y/N." said Matthias looking at you affectionately and then looked alarmed because he saw the demjin marching toward you "But you better run or you'll be in trouble with the demjin!"

"Trouble?" you laughed as you winked at your friends "You're only in trouble if you are caught!"

Kaz caught you before you could flee "Gotcha!"

"I'm in trouble." you mumbled and then grinned widely at Kaz Brekker who looked like a bull who had just been kicked as you bit him making him let go of you and you took off running "Congratulations on your nuptials, Captain! You're going to be a lovely bride!"

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