#kaz: chaos is amusing

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Kaz: Theres a thin line between being a genius and a complete idiot

Kaz: Wylan and Jesper use that line as a jump rope

[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

[the-lying-heavens]

Hi hi if you're still doing requests and are up for it, I'd love to request something for Kaz Brekker. Comfort in Chaos was so good.

I have a few ideas and I'm not picky at all so literally anything Kaz would be wonderful!!

If you want specifics maybe like some sort of emotional hurt/comfort? Or an only one bed situation? Idk I'm bad at this haha

"Where We Are Safe"

[Kaz Brekker x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: After a long day of battle and being separated from friends, Kaz and you seek refuge for the night. With their plans ruined and only a decrepit inn available, they find themselves sharing a bed in a cramped room

Warnings: hurt/comfort, only one-bed trope, fluff

Word Count: 1k words

A/N: Hello love! Thank you for the kind words about Comfort in Chaos! I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it because I didn't know if it stayed true to Kaz's character or not- if you want to share those ideas for other reqs do go ahead! Anyway...enjoy!

Kaz had been adamant about securing a safe place for the night, but when the landlord of the only good inn in town recognized him, he knew they had to leave. What did you expect from Kaz Brekker?

The rain poured down outside as you both ducked into an alley, catching your breath.

"Of all the places…" you muttered, shaking off the chill.

Kaz’s jaw clenched. "We’ll find somewhere else. Just keep your voice down."

You rolled your eyes but stayed quiet. With each passing moment, the chill seeped deeper, exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders. It had been a long day of dealing with enemies and you had been separated from Jesper and Inej in fervour of battle.

After a few more tense turns through the streets, Kaz finally stopped in front of a decrepit building. The sign above the door swung lazily, reading "The Cracked Pot."

"Really?" you ask him.

"Do you have any better ideas? Because I would love to hear them," he retorts.

You grumble, having had no plans in what looked like a dumpster.

It was a dumpster. As you entered, the scent of damp wood and stale beer enveloped you. The innkeeper eyed you both warily but handed over a key with a dismissive grunt.

Kaz led the way up the creaking stairs. The room was small, the single bed taking up most of the space, with a rickety chair in the corner. 

"Oh, you have to be kidding," you groan as you look around the room.

"There’s only one bed," he observed, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I do have eyes, Brekker," you mutter.

Kaz leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Looks like we’re going to have to share. You’ll survive."

"Share?" You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you have got to be kidding."

"What do you want the chair then?" He nodded towards it, the legs wobbling ominously.

You pout. "Why can't you take the chair?"

"Because I’d rather not wake up with a crick in my neck," you replied.

He watched as you considered his words. Finally, you sighed. "Fine. We’ll share the bed. But don’t think I’m going to cuddle or anything."

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

As you two settled onto the bed, you tried to shake off the weariness that clung to you. 

The patter of the rain outside created a strange comfort.

"Why are you so tense?" you asked, propping themselves up on one elbow.

"I’m always tense," he replied, glancing toward the window. "It’s part of the job."

"But you don’t have to be all the time," you pressed. "We’re safe for now."

Kaz turns to you."Safe? In this dump? We’ve barely escaped death more than once today."

"Kaz, it’s okay to let your guard down sometime. You don’t always have to be Dirty Hands."

Kaz’s gaze flickered. "You think I don’t want to? You think it’s that easy?"

You sigh. "I know it’s not. But you can’t carry all that weight alone, Kaz. You don’t have to be the infamous Kaz Brekker every second of the day."

He shifted slightly, the tension in his body still palpable. "That’s who I am. This life... it doesn’t allow for softness."

You moved closer, the small bed forcing you to close the distance between you. "And I’m not asking you to change. Just... let me in a little. I’m here, and I want to help carry that weight."

Kaz's jaw tightened. "You don’t understand," he finally said, his voice a low rasp. "Letting people in only leads to pain."

"I know that better than most," you replied softly. "But I’d rather share the pain than face it alone. You don’t have to be strong all the time."

For a moment, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the rain tapping against the window. Kaz’s expression softened, though the hardness in his eyes lingered. "I’m not used to this," he admitted, almost reluctantly.

"Then let me help you get used to it," you urged gently. "We’re a team, remember?"

He shifted again, looking away. "What if I let you in and you regret it?"

"I can deal with that," you said.

Kaz finally met your gaze. "You really mean that?"

"We’re a team, remember?"

He inhaled deeply, and you could see the tension start to ease from his shoulders. "You get some rest. I'll keep watch."

"Keep watch?"

"Yes. If anything happens, I’ll be the first to react. Just… try to get some sleep."

You couldn’t help but smile softly. "You really think I’m going to fall asleep while you’re brooding in the corner?"

He smirked. "You’d be surprised how well you can sleep when you feel safe."

"Safe? Here?" You gestured to the peeling wallpaper and the threadbare bedspread.

Kaz’s gaze softened. "With me, yes. You’re safer than you think."

You settled back against the pillows, the weight of the day pressing down on you, but his words lingered in the air like a warm promise. "Okay, but you better wake me if anything happens."

"I will," he said, voice steady.

As you closed your eyes, the rhythm of the rain became a lullaby, lulling you into a fragile peace. 

You felt the bed shift slightly as Kaz moved, positioning himself near the edge, ever vigilant. You were aware of him, the constant presence that had become your anchor in the storm.

Sleep tugged at you, but you couldn’t shake the worry. "Kaz?" you murmured, opening one eye.

"What?" His voice was low, as if he were trying not to disturb the fragile quiet of the room.

"Thank you. For… everything."

He paused, the weight of your words settling between you. "You don’t have to thank me."

"I want to," you insisted. "You’ve always had my back. Even when you think you’re alone in this."

Kaz was silent for a moment, the tension in the room shifting once more. "I’m not used to being… appreciated," he admitted quietly.

"Then get used to it. You deserve it," you replied.

He glanced at you. "It’s hard to believe that sometimes."

"Believe it," you whispered, feeling sleep tugging at your consciousness again.

He didn’t answer, but you sensed something shift in the air—something warm, something that felt like hope. You let your eyes close.

When you finally drifted off, the world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of rain and the quiet certainty that you were not alone.

Kaz may have been a shadow in the night, but you knew he was there, keeping watch, ready to fight.

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 18) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 7.7k

notes: since it took me so much to update only fluff for now <3

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome

@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin @jay-is-a-pinguin @le-clair-de-lune

Finally, they were driving to their new house for the first night. The interior of the car was lit by the streetlights that flickered past, casting fleeting shadows across the leather seats. 

Y/N, seated in the passenger side, was trying to keep her vape out of Kaz's reach. She held it up just beyond his grasp, teasing him with the occasional puff of vapor that curled through the air. Kaz, focused on the road, shot her amused glances, his eyes flickering between the rearview mirror and the road ahead.

Kaz leaned over slightly, attempting to snatch the vape with a playful grin. “Come on, just one,” he murmured, his tone light.

Y/N laughed softly, keeping the vape just out of reach. “Yeah, if you catch it,” she replied, her voice a mix of mischief and affection.

But the moment of levity was abruptly shattered by the crack of a gunshot. The car jolted as a bullet whizzed past, grazing the side of the vehicle with a sharp, metallic sting. Y/N's heart leaped into her throat, her eyes widening in shock.

Without missing a beat, Kaz’s reflexes kicked in. He thrust Y/N’s head down toward the footwell, his face hardening into a mask of grim determination. Another bullet ricocheted off the car’s frame, sending a shiver through the metal.

“Are they shooting at us?” Y/N asked, panicked. 

“Are you really asking me that?” Kaz’s voice was tight with both urgency and disbelief. He shot a quick glance into the rearview mirror, but the darkness outside rendered the pursuing car a shadowy, indistinguishable blur. The soft hum of the engine was punctuated by the sharp, menacing sound of gunfire. “Love, there’s a hidden compartment in the dashboard. The key is in my pocket. You’ll find a gun in there. I need you to pass it to me and keep your head down.”

Y/N’s breath came in shallow, panicked bursts. She stared at Kaz, eyes wide, as the reality of their situation sunk in. The interior of the car felt like a confined battlefield. “I can’t fucking believe this,” she muttered, her voice trembling.

Kaz felt her trembling hand searching in his pocket. The situation was quickly unraveling, and his focus remained on the road, dodging the bullets that continued to whiz past with a high-pitched, deadly whine. The car shook with each impact, a harsh reminder of the danger they were in. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, trying to keep the car steady while the night outside blurred into a chaotic smear of dark and light.

Y/N finally managed to pull out the gun from the compartment, her fingers gripping it with fear. She handed it over to Kaz, her eyes darting nervously between him and the road. “Y/N, I need you to take the wheel,” he said, his voice firm despite the chaos.

“What?” Y/N’s disbelief was evident. Her gaze was fixed on Kaz, searching for any sign that this was some sort of sick joke.

“Can we fight about it later? Take the wheel,” Kaz insisted, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze was fierce and determined, his hands already moving to unbuckle his seatbelt.

With her heart racing, Y/N reached for the steering wheel, her movements tentative but desperate. The car wobbled slightly as she adjusted her grip, but she managed to steady it. Kaz wasted no time; he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his window, the rush of cool night air filling the car and mingling with the acrid scent of gunpowder.

He took a brief, sharp look at Y/N, who had her head down, and was half over him. “You’re right, you look good from up here,” he said with a fleeting, almost ironic smile.

“KAZ!” Y/N’s voice was filled with frustration and fear, her heart pounding in her chest.

Kaz chuckled despite the situation, a sound that was almost incongruous with the danger they faced. He leaned out of the window, his torso exposed to the night air as he aimed carefully at the pursuing car. The wind whipped at his face, and he could hear the distant echo of more gunfire as he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, tell me if I have to hit the brake. You’re my eyes right now,” Kaz instructed, his voice steady as he focused on the task at hand. He took his time to line up his shot, his concentration absolute as he squeezed the trigger. The gunfire cracked sharply, and the first tire of the car behind them exploded in a burst of rubber and debris.

Kaz pulled his head back inside quickly, narrowly avoiding a spray of bullets that whizzed past where his head had been moments before. He gave Y/N a fleeting, worried glance as he caught his breath. “Have I ever told you that I love you?” he asked, his voice tinged with a rare softness.

Y/N’s response was lost amidst the cacophony of their surroundings, but Kaz didn’t wait to hear it. He shot out the other front wheel with practiced precision before retreating back into the safety of the car. He slid back into the driver’s seat with a grim look of determination.

“Keep your head down. We’re going to a safe house,” Kaz said, his tone leaving no room for discussion. He turned his attention back to the road, his hands steady on the wheel.

The night was filled with the oppressive silence that followed a storm. The car’s tires roared against the pavement as Kaz navigated them away from danger. The road ahead stretched out into darkness, offering a tenuous promise of safety. The sound of their own breathing, ragged and heavy, filled the car as they drove in tense, strained silence. Kaz’s mind raced through their options, his gaze constantly shifting between the road and the rearview mirror.

They arrived at the house just as Jesper pulled up behind them. The night air was thick with tension and the lingering smell of gunpowder. Kaz eased the car into the driveway, the headlights casting a harsh glow over the darkened front yard. The engine sputtered to a stop, and the car’s frame, now marred with bullet holes and dings, seemed to sigh in relief.

Kaz stepped out of the car and surveyed the damage, his face a mask of grim resignation. His fingers traced the contours of a particularly large dent, a reminder of the chaos they had narrowly escaped. “My poor car,” he sighed, his voice tinged with a blend of frustration and sadness.

Y/N, still shaken, flung open her door and stormed over to him. Her voice was sharp with anger and fear. “Your car? You’re worried about your car? That could’ve been our skulls, Kaz! How can you be so focused on that?”

Kaz met her gaze, his eyes filled with regret and resolve. “I know, love. I’ll handle it. I’m sorry.”

Y/N threw her hands up in exasperation. “I am fucking scared! First, you destroy someone’s car right in front of me, then someone starts shooting at us. What the fuck, Kaz?”

Before Kaz could respond, Jesper stepped in, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the heated exchange. “Y/N, you’re right. But we should get inside and secure the place. We can’t do that if we’re out here arguing.”

Y/N huffed, but she reluctantly followed Jesper into the house, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The door slammed behind her with a definitive thud, and the house was enveloped in a tense silence. 

Inside, the house was a blend of shadow and muted light. Y/N sank onto the couch, her posture rigid as she pulled out her phone, scrolling absently but clearly preoccupied. Her face was a mix of exhaustion and lingering fear, her earlier anger now tempered by the aftermath of their harrowing escape.

Kaz and Jesper retreated to the kitchen, the low murmur of their voices drifting into the living room. They spoke in low tones, discussing their next moves, the logistics of securing the house, and how to deal with their pursuers. Kaz’s mind was partially on the conversation, but he kept glancing toward the living room, his eyes drifting to Y/N’s curled form on the couch.

He saw her huddled there, her phone’s screen casting a pale light on her face, the tense lines around her eyes softened only slightly by the glow. It wasn’t how he had envisioned their first night in their house—far from it, he thought they would at least manage to arrive there. 

Once Jesper left, Kaz took a deep breath and approached Y/N. He sank down beside her on the couch, his expression softening as he reached out and gently squeezed her thigh. “How mad are you?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes still wide with lingering fear. “A lot. It was really scary,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly.

“I know,” Kaz said, his tone full of sincerity. “I’m sorry.”

He carefully pulled her into his embrace, his arms wrapping around her in a comforting hold. He forced her to look up at him, his eyes searching hers. “You stopped to tell me that you loved me while they were shooting at us,” she said in disbelief, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the fear that still lingered. 

Kaz chuckled softly, a warm, albeit rueful, smile touching his lips. “I might have, yeah,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of playful resignation.

Y/N shook her head, her earlier frustration now softened into something more affectionate. A smile began to spread across her face, and she leaned into Kaz’s embrace, her eyes reflecting a mixture of amusement and warmth. “Unbelievable,” she repeated, her tone light yet filled with a tender affection that contrasted sharply with the night’s earlier intensity.

Kaz glanced down at Y/N’s phone, which she was now holding in one hand. “What are you reading?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Y/N turned the phone slightly towards him, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Fanfiction,” she said with a nonchalant shrug.

Kaz squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the words that swirled across it. He frowned as he read a few lines, his brows knitting together in confusion. “That’s porn,” he observed, his voice tinged with bewilderment as he tried to reconcile what he was seeing.

Y/N’s response was another casual, almost indifferent shrug. “We just said exactly the same thing, baby,” she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. She snuggled deeper into Kaz’s side, getting more comfortable as she continued scrolling through her fanfiction.

Kaz remained confused, his mind struggling to process the incongruity of the situation. He glanced back at Y/N, who seemed entirely unfazed by the dissonance. Her fingers moved over the screen, and she seemed completely absorbed in her reading.

Despite his initial confusion, Kaz found himself chuckling again, this time with bewildered affection. He wrapped his arm more securely around Y/N, pulling her closer. 

Y/N looked up at him, her smile widening. “Sometimes you need a little distraction after a night like tonight.”

Kaz shook his head in amused resignation, the warmth of Y/N’s presence easing the last remnants of the night’s tension. He settled into the couch with her, his earlier worries momentarily forgotten as he enjoyed the simple comfort of being close to her. The world outside felt distant and irrelevant compared to the warmth and intimacy they shared in that moment.

As they sat together, the soft glow of the phone screen casting faint shadows across their faces, Kaz found himself appreciating the surreal normalcy of the moment. It was a peculiar way to end a chaotic night, but it was theirs, and that was enough.

***

Kaz was outside the Crow Club, leaning on his motorcycle, his posture relaxed yet vigilant. The car was still at the mechanic’s, a testament to their recent narrow escape. He idly played with one of the helmets, his mind a mix of thoughts when he saw Anika approaching her car nearby.

“Are you waiting for someone?” she asked, nodding towards the two helmets.

“No, I like to be extra safe,” Kaz replied flatly, his tone deadpan.

Anika rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in them. She hesitated, then decided to continue. “I know you’re not one for gossip, but there’s something I have to ask you.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. “Let’s hear it.”

“So, there’s this rumor that you and Inej broke up and that you have a new girlfriend. Some people are even saying that you’re living together. I mean, it’s not true, right?”

Kaz smirked, a slow, confident curve of his lips. “It is true.”

Anika’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way. Do I know her?”

Kaz’s smirk deepened into a crooked smile as he glanced at his watch. “Actually, yes. She should arrive any minute. You have some time to guess.”

Anika took the challenge seriously, blurting out wild guesses that ranged from absurd to plausible. 

“Alright, how about Tamsin from the bar? She’s always been into you,” Anika continued, her tone becoming more speculative.

“Wrong again,” Kaz replied, amusement evident in his eyes.

“Okay, this one’s a long shot,” Anika said, her voice filled with playful exasperation. “Is it Petra, the one who always beats everyone at poker night?”

Kaz’s smile widened. “Nice try, but no.”

Anika tapped her chin, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You’re really making this difficult, Kaz. Is it that new dancer at the club? The one who’s been performing on Fridays?”

Kaz laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Nope, keep trying.”

Kaz listened with a faint smile, enjoying the game. After several guesses, she spotted Y/N approaching.

“Oh, hi! What are you doing here? You disappeared so early on Saturday!” Anika greeted y/n with a cheek kiss, her curiosity piqued.

“Yeah, I found this super hot guy and fled as soon as I could,” y/n replied, her eyes lingering on Kaz with a mischievous glint.

Kaz tried to conceal a snort with a cough, the sound barely disguising the rush of memories that flooded his mind. He was transported back to the previous Saturday night, where the party’s thumping bass and boisterous laughter had been a stark contrast to the heated scene unfolding in his study. The room had been dark, the flickering light from a single lamp casting shadows that danced across the walls as the music from the party downstairs created a pulsating rhythm in the background.

y/n had been bent over his desk, her hands gripping the edge for support. The desk was strewn with papers and half-empty glasses, the clutter a testament to the chaotic energy of the party. Her moans, although muffled by the music, had created a melody all their own. Each sound she made had vibrated through the room, creating a private symphony that contrasted sharply with the public revelry just beyond the door.

Kaz had watched her with awe and possessiveness, feeling the heat of the moment as he moved in rhythm with her. The music’s thudding bass seemed to sync with their own pace, creating a unique harmony that only they could fully appreciate. The disarray of the room and the distant party noises had seemed like a surreal backdrop to their intensely personal encounter.

He remembered the way her body had responded to him, how her breaths had quickened and her grip had tightened as they lost themselves in the moment. It was as if the world outside had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them and the electric connection they shared.

The rush of warmth he felt now, while thinking back on that night, was palpable.Kaz kept his composure, focusing on the present and the playful banter with Anika, but the memory lingered in his thoughts.

“I just discovered that the rumors about Kaz’s new girlfriend are true. She’s coming here,” Anika said excitedly, her eyes darting around as if expecting the mysterious girlfriend to appear any moment.

“No way,” laughed y/n, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“But look at you all dressed up! What are you doing tonight?” Anika asked, admiring y/n’s outfit, casual elegance that suggested she had plans for a special evening.

“Him,” y/n replied simply, nodding towards Kaz with a confident, knowing smile.

Anika’s mouth dropped open in shock, and then she burst into laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You two?”

“Yeah,” y/n shrugged, moving closer to Kaz, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Anika’s eyes widened further, darting between Y/N and Kaz, and then to Kaz’s arm casually draped around Y/N’s waist. “I didn’t even think you’d know each other. I can’t believe this,” she said clearly surprised. “You two are so... different.”

Kaz grinned, pulling Y/N even closer, clearly enjoying Anika’s reaction. “Opposites attract,” he said with a smirk, his tone light yet filled with an undeniable affection.

“And you’re living together? Already?” Anika’s voice rose slightly, still processing the news.

“Yeah, it was a,” Kaz gazed at y/n’s lips, his voice softening, “an impulsive decision.”

Anika crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. “I just can’t wrap my head around this. You’ve always been so private, Kaz. And Y/N, you’re the exact opposite! I know exactly what you did today from your Instagram!”

y/n was about to reply when something in Anika’s mind clicked. Her eyes widened with realization. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me that all those hands, shoulders, and hair I see in her stories, it’s you?”

“Yep,” Kaz replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Anika’s jaw dropped further, disbelief etched across her face. “I can’t believe this. All those little hints. Like that story you posted the other day, where there was a head on your lap, and you were like in bed, I think?”

“Yes, him, first night in the new house,” y/n said, leaning into Kaz, a mischievous smile on her lips.

Anika’s eyes darted between them, still trying to piece everything together. “And the shadowy figure helping you cook in that TikTok from last week?”

Kaz chuckled softly. “Helping is a big word. I was accidentally passing by.”

“And that video! The one where you wrote ‘Spoiled,’ it was—”

“Still him,” laughed y/n. “You really follow me carefully, Anika.”

Kaz shook his head, remembering the video. It showed y/n’s face, her eyes closed in bliss as she soaked in a bathtub. His hand came into frame, placing a chocolate into her mouth. “That was really unnecessary,” he murmured.

“It’s just… wow. So difficult to imagine you together,” Anika said, her voice filled with awe and skepticism. “Don’t get it the wrong way, but I thought that your respective types were much different.”

Kaz, aware of where this conversation was heading and intent on avoiding a discussion about his past with Inej, decided to shift the focus. He handed a helmet to y/n and clicked the cane into its support on the bike. “Time to go, love. See you tomorrow, Anika.”

He swung his leg over the bike and settled into his seat, casting a quick, reassuring glance at y/n. 

y/n adjusted her helmet and gave Kaz a smile that was both warm and mischievous, before disappearing behind the black visor. She climbed onto the bike, her movements fluid and practiced. As she settled into place, her arms wrapped around his waist, and Kaz felt the comforting pressure of her body against his back. The connection was immediate, grounding him in a way that nothing else did.

The familiarity of the moment—y/n’s presence next to him, her body pressed against his—sent a familiar jolt of electricity through him. It was a feeling he had grown accustomed to, but it never failed to stir something deep inside him.

Kaz’s hands briefly lingered on y/n’s hips as he helped her get situated. The electric hum of the bike beneath them seemed to pulse with a life of its own, mirroring the energy he felt coursing through him whenever she was close. He took a deep breath, savoring the closeness, and then revved the engine, the roar cutting through the cool evening air.

He felt y/n’s grip tighten slightly while they started to move. The city lights blurred past as they sped off, the rhythmic thrum of the engine beneath them providing a steady beat to their shared journey.

***

Kaz was really enjoying living with Y/N. Every time he came back from work and found her in the middle of making dinner in her little see-through pink PJ, her lips already red from wine, he felt the impulse to drop on one knee and propose right away. The sight of her, so effortlessly sensual and domestic at the same time, filled him with a warmth he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling. More often than he cared to admit, they had left the dinner to get cold, too caught up in each other to worry about food. The kitchen would become their playground, filled with the sounds of laughter and passion, the aroma of their neglected meal mingling with their shared breath.

Kaz was sure he would never get tired of it, of the knowledge that she was there, waiting for him. Each evening, her presence was a constant, comforting anchor in his life. 

When he was home before her, he had started to decipher her mood by the music he heard blasting from her car as she pulled into the driveway. 

If it was Lana Del Rey, it was better to chug a lot of water and clear the next few hours of his schedule. Those nights were intense; she would edge them both until one of them started to beg (him), her eyes dark with desire. If it was Taylor Swift, Y/N was about to talk his ears off about whatever thing had happened to her that day, her animated recounting of events both mundane and extraordinary filling the house with life. And if it was something with a hard beat, shit was about to get wild. Water wouldn’t help; it was time to make strong drinks and dramatically free the kitchen table.

He thought that her job would have bothered him more. But instead, it became a point of power and intimacy between them. The times she would run straight to him after work, her eyes wide with need, asking him to make her feel good, were priceless. She would talk about how bad and boring the other men were, how on edge they had left her, and Kaz would get hard just from the power she was giving him. Her desperation when he didn't immediately agree was intoxicating, a heady mix of vulnerability and desire that he reveled in.

Kaz loved that Y/N was as clingy and needy as he discovered himself to be. She was always seeking his contact, whether it was a hand, a kiss, or a brush of their bodies when they passed each other. They couldn’t sit on the couch without being sprawled on each other, limbs tangled in a comforting mess. He felt like he had years of touch to catch up on, and her constant need for physical connection filled a void he always knew was there.

Another thing Kaz noticed was that Y/N was subtly testing the boundaries of their relationship. She was always asking for his help, seeking more attention, and requesting more of his time. It was as if she was waiting for the moment he would snap at her, get mad at her constant demands. He decided to let her test him, allowing her to slowly get comfortable with the fact that he wouldn't leave her or get angry. Kaz would roll his eyes and make her ask more than once pretty often, but he always said yes. He understood that her requests were not about the tasks themselves but about her need for reassurance and stability.

Y/N was scared that things would go badly. Kaz saw her hesitation when telling him that she was too sore or too tired to have sex on certain nights. In those moments, with all the patience in the world, he would get her to relax, cuddling her and reassuring her that he didn’t care. He would have watched ice melt just to share her company. He constantly reminded her that he wanted all of her, that her body and all that came with it was just one aspect of his love for her, not the only thing.

One evening, Kaz was sitting on the couch, and Y/N was nestled between his legs, her back pressed against his chest. His nose was buried in her hair, inhaling her comforting scent, while his hands traced lazy patterns on her stomach beneath her shirt. They were watching the new season of MasterChef, they had finished watching together the previous season exchanging texts when they had just met. Now, they were watching it from their couch, the one they had painstakingly chosen after a marathon day at IKEA, testing and retesting every option.

Y/N had told him about a particularly rough booking she had had that afternoon—two men together. She explained how it had started well, she never lied about having good sex when it happened. But then, as she recounted, things had taken a turn. They had become too intense, pushing her limits to the point where she nearly used her safe word. They had been thrilled about sharing her, constantly trying to outdo each other, and it had left her feeling drained.

Kaz listened attentively, his heart aching at the thought of her discomfort. He ran her a bath, carefully adjusting the water temperature to her liking. They had been working slowly but steadily on getting him used to wet skin, and he managed to hold her hand for a bit under the hot water. As it began to feel too much, Kaz brought her some ice cream, giving her a moment alone to soak in the warmth and let the tension melt away.

While Y/N relaxed in the bath, Kaz busied himself in the kitchen, making popcorn and preparing drinks for their evening of TV.

Y/N's job often brought up complex emotions, and Kaz knew it was essential to navigate them with care. He never judged her for it, understanding that it was a part of her life. Instead, he focused on making her feel loved and valued, ensuring she knew that his affection extended far beyond the physical. Each time she shared a piece of her day, no matter how difficult, he listened without interruption, offering comfort and support in whatever way she needed.

Y/N was no less tender than him when he came back from a particularly violent job or a stressful business day. Kaz usually managed to go somewhere and get cleaned up before coming home, but one time it was really late and he was too tired to make a stop before heading back. As he walked through the door, half-covered in blood, he intended to go straight to the bathroom, but he couldn't resist peeking into their bedroom.

Kaz found Y/N awake, immersed in a book. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, covered in blood, but before she could react, he reassured her, "I'm okay. It's not mine." He disappeared into the bathroom, anxious about how she would handle seeing him in such a state. Would she be repulsed? Frightened? He scrubbed himself clean, the hot water doing little to wash away his lingering fears.

When he climbed into bed, the adrenaline from the violent encounter still pumping through his veins, he was surprised to find Y/N waiting for him with open arms. Without a word, she guided his head to lay on her stomach, her fingers threading gently through his hair. 

"Tell me what happened," she coaxed softly, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. At first, Kaz hesitated, the events of the night swirling chaotically in his mind. But her gentle persistence and the tender way she held him made it easier to let the words spill out. He recounted the night's events, the violence, the danger, the blood. He spoke of the fear and the anger, the rush of adrenaline that still hadn't fully dissipated.

As he spoke, Y/N's hand never left his hair, her touch grounding him. She listened without interruption, her presence a steady anchor. She murmured words of comfort, assuring him that he was safe now, that she was there for him. Her patience and understanding allowed him to slowly detach from the night's horrors.

When he finally fell silent, the weight of the night lifted slightly from his shoulders. Y/N's gentle care had worked its magic, soothing the turmoil within him. She continued to hold him close, her warmth and steady heartbeat lulling him into a sense of security.

"You're home now," she whispered, her fingers still playing gently with his hair. 

Kaz closed his eyes, the adrenaline ebbing away as sleep began to claim him. In Y/N's arms, he found the peace he desperately needed. Her tenderness and unwavering support were more than he had ever expected or thought he deserved. 

***

Sex was always an intense power struggle, and Kaz was starting to get confident enough to win sometimes. Each encounter was a battle for dominance, a test of wills that left them both breathless and exhilarated.

Kaz's thumbs were pressed deeply into the dimples of her lower back, gripping her hips with a force that would surely leave bruises. His pace was already erratic, driven by a desperate need, but Y/N kept pushing him for more. She would glance over her shoulder, her eyes dark with desire, and beg, "Faster," "Harder," "More." Her pleas were insistent, her hips arching to take him deeper, fueling his frustration and excitement.

Annoyed by her constant demands, Kaz decided to assert his control. He stopped abruptly, leaving her gasping in frustration, and flipped her onto her back. Pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, he used the other to cover her mouth. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous smile as he whispered, "Shut up, love. You're not the one in charge here."

He pressed her into the mattress, starting to move as slowly as he could, savoring her muffled whimpers and the way her eyes widened in desperation. Y/N's hips bucked up, trying to meet his thrusts, but he held her down, maintaining his agonizingly slow pace. "Stay still," he murmured in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You get what I give you."

Her eyes were wide with a mixture of frustration and pleasure, tears and spit covering his hand. He knew she was enjoying it as much as he was—it was written all over her face. The suffocated cries and the way she strained against his hold were music to his ears, a symphony of their shared desire.

Each time she moved her hips, he would stop, leaving her on the brink of madness. Her muffled cries grew louder, and he could already hear the neighbors' complaints echoing in his mind. They had been asked more than once to keep it down, but in moments like this, neither of them cared.

As Kaz felt himself getting closer, he abruptly released her mouth and wrists. Y/N immediately pulled him closer, her nails digging into his back, urging him to finish her off. She raised her hips, desperate to take him deeper, her eyes filled with a wild, needy hunger. 

When Kaz finally reached his peak, the intensity of it left them both trembling. He buried his face in her neck, muffling his own cries. The sounds of their pleasure filled the room, and he was certain they were in for another awkward conversation with the neighbors.

In the aftermath, as they lay tangled together, catching their breath, Kaz couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. The power struggle, the intensity, the way they pushed each other to new heights—it was all part of the intoxicating dance they shared. And in moments like these, he knew he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Y/N's body was a warm, comforting weight against his, her skin slick with sweat and her breathing still uneven. Her head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each of his breaths. He could feel her heartbeat gradually slowing, syncing with his own in a calming rhythm.

“That was fucking amazing, love,” she said, her voice breathless and filled with exhaustion and exhilaration. She shifted slightly, looking up at him with a satisfied smile. “I won’t be able to think about anything else for a while.”

Kaz chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and planting a gentle kiss on her temple. “Exactly what I wanted,” he murmured, his lips lingering against her skin. He relished the feeling of her body relaxing into his, the tension of their earlier intensity giving way to a profound sense of contentment.

They lay there in silence for a while, the only sounds the gentle hum of the city outside and their slowing breaths. Kaz traced lazy circles on her back with his fingertips, enjoying the way she shivered at his touch. Despite the physical exhaustion, he felt an undeniable energy coursing through him—a satisfaction not just from the physical release, but from the deep connection they shared.

“Do we really have to go to Jesper’s taco night?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me,” she sighed passing a hand on her flushed face.

“Again?”

He thought about how their relationship had evolved, from the first tentative touches to the raw, unfiltered passion they now shared. Each moment with her was a discovery, an adventure that left him craving more. The way she challenged him, pushed him to new limits, both in and out of the bedroom, was something he had never experienced before. It was addictive.

***

Kaz yawned, studying the array of weapons laid out before him. The cool metal glinted under the dim lights of the room. 

“Did you take Y/N’s car?” Jesper asked as he joined him, a curious look on his face.

“Yeah, she says it makes a weird noise, so I told her I would take it to a mechanic,” Kaz replied, stifling another yawn. “The car is fine; if she could just drive like Ghezen commands, she’d know. I'll just make some rounds and tell her that someone fixed it.”

Jesper shook his head, eyeing the weapons with the same intensity as Kaz. “So, how was this sunrise-romantic-run?” Jesper commented with a smirk.

Kaz frowned. “How do you know about it?”

“Y/N’s private profile on Instagram,” Jesper said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kaz pulled out his phone and saw a notification: ‘cherrylips_crystalskies tagged you in her story.’ Curiosity piqued, he tapped on the alert and was greeted by a snapshot that made him pause. The photo captured him mid-stride, running ahead of Y/N along the harbor. His silhouette was a stark, inky black against the ethereal golden light of the sunrise, which danced across the water in shimmering waves. The serene hues of dawn contrasted sharply with his dark attire, emphasizing his presence. 

Every detail in the photo stood out. His black hoodie and track pants melded into the early morning shadows, but two elements gleamed brightly—the gray headphones wrapped around his head and the metallic sheen of his knee brace, reflecting the soft morning light. The scene was both peaceful and intense.

In the background, the harbor lay quiet, bathed in the gentle light of the breaking day. The calm water mirrored the sky's hues, creating a dreamy, almost surreal landscape that framed Kaz's determined form. 

The caption was “is bro faking his injury to park wherever he wants? Stay tuned” and made him chuckle. Kaz couldn't help but smile at the image, feeling a rush of warmth and affection for the woman who had captured it.

On her public profile, Y/N only posted subtle hints that she was with someone, but on her private one, she took more creative freedom. Kaz had to admit, it was a nice picture.

Suppressing another yawn, Kaz explained, “I didn’t sleep last night, had to finish some things. Later, I’m going to see Y/N’s grandma to ask her what she thinks of me marrying her niece. Y/N was out all night partying, and since I was awake when she came back, she dragged me to go running with her.”

Jesper raised a brow. 

“I know, ‘running off the hangover’ is for crazy people," Kaz added with a shake of his head. He remembered Y/N’s infectious energy, her laughter as she pulled him out the door in the cold morning air despite his protests.

“Looks like you’ve got a full day today,” commented Jesper, picking up a gun to evaluate it.

Kaz nodded, handing him a silencer. “Yeah, it’s going to be an interesting one.”

***

Kaz felt a bit less confident under Alice’s gaze. “You look pale, boy. I’ll make some tea,” she said, bustling in the kitchen.

“Without Marijuana, please,” he added, recalling how the last time he drunk tea in that house went.

“Boring,” commented Alice.

Kaz remained on the yellow couch, unsure of what to do. The cozy, lived-in feel of the room contrasted sharply with the formality of the conversation he was about to have. He fidgeted slightly, adjusting his jacket and looking around at the pictures of young Y/N that adorned the walls.

“So you want to marry my niece,” Alice started from the kitchen.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice steady.

Alice returned with two cups, handing one to him. He accepted it gratefully, feeling the warmth seep into his hands.

“Why?” she asked, her tone genuinely curious.

“Uhm, because we love each other,” he said, avoiding her gaze and focusing on the steam rising from his cup.

“So you ask to marry you everyone you love?” Alice raised a brow, taking a sip of her tea.

“No,” he frowned, glancing up at her.

“Then why?”

“I want to spend my life with her,” he said more confidently, meeting her eyes.

“Hm, you can do that without being married,” Alice observed, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Kaz hadn’t expected this much questioning. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to gather his thoughts.

“What does kitty think about that? She didn’t even want a relationship,” Alice pointed out.

Kaz thought about all the times they had joked about it, each instance vivid in his mind. He remembered the nights when they lay tangled together, the room filled with the soft glow of lamplight. He would lean in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You know, you’d make a perfect wife." Her laughter would bubble up, light and musical, filling the space around them. “Sure, Kaz.”

Kaz also recalled the mornings when he would prepare breakfast, catching her off guard by referring to her as "Mrs. Brekker." She would then wiggle her left hand in front of his face, fingers splayed and free of any rings. "You’re getting ahead of yourself, baby," she’d say.

He remembered when they went to one of his work dinners, a formal affair where everyone seemed to have their plus ones neatly labeled. Someone had asked if she was his wife, and without missing a beat, Kaz had confidently responded, “Yes.” Y/N had turned to look at him with a brow raised, surprise and amusement dancing in her eyes. “No, I’m not,” she laughed, correcting him but not without a playful nudge.

“Exactly, she didn’t want a relationship and now she’s happy in one. We can make this work,” he said, a note of determination in his voice.

Alice hummed, studying him intently. “Are you sure she’s happy?”

“Yes,” Kaz said without hesitation. “She was just scared that things would take a bad turn. She still is, but I’m doing everything I can to let her know I won’t leave her.”

“What if you find someone else? I’m sure you were this confident even with your ex-girlfriend,” Alice remarked, her eyes sharp.

Kaz was taken aback again, but making delicate conversation was part of his job. “You can’t compare my relationship with Inej to the one with Y/N. We fit together in a way I didn’t think was possible.”

“What about her job?”

“I’ll wait for her to be ready to leave it before marrying her,” Kaz said, his resolve unwavering. He knew Y/N's work was a significant part of her life, and he respected her autonomy. He understood that pressuring her to leave it prematurely would only create resentment and conflict.

Alice nodded at his words, clearly processing them. “And then what?”

“She’ll do whatever she wants, of course,” Kaz responded without hesitation. He envisioned a future where Y/N could explore her passions freely, whether that meant pursuing a new career, continuing her education, or any other endeavor that brought her joy.

“What about children? Kitty wants to have them.”

Kaz paused, the weight of the question settling over him. He had never been one to fantasize about fatherhood, but the thought of creating a family with Y/N was becoming less foreign, even comforting. “I’m… getting used to the idea,” he admitted, surprising even himself with the honesty of his response. 

Alice smiled softly, setting her cup down. “You know, Kaz, you’re saying all the right things. But you’re both young. You already rushed into moving in together.”

Kaz met her gaze, understanding the concern behind her words. “I’m not saying we’re getting married tomorrow,” he clarified. “I just want her to know that I’m not playing. I think she needs all the reassurance she can get.” He thought about the nights Y/N sought his comfort, the times she asked for his help or attention, testing his patience and commitment. He wanted her to feel secure in their relationship, to know he was in it for the long haul.

Alice studied him for a moment, her expression softening. “It’s good that you recognize that. She’s been through a lot, and she needs someone who’s going to be there for her, consistently.”

“I know,” Kaz said quietly. He thought of the moments when Y/N hesitated to share her vulnerabilities, fearing rejection or anger. He had made it a point to reassure her, to show her through actions and words that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Alice leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful look on her face. “It’s clear you care deeply for her. Just make sure you’re both ready for each step you take. Marriage, children—they’re big commitments.”

Kaz nodded, appreciating Alice's candidness. “I will. I’m not rushing anything. I just want her to feel safe.”

Alice smiled again, a hint of approval in her eyes. “Then we’re good, you have my blessing. Maybe asking her father would be more appropriate, but I raised the little brat. I’m glad you came to me.”

Kaz froze, his eyes widening. Her father?

Alice sensed his confusion. “She told you they’re dead, right?”

Kaz nodded, his mind racing, not understanding why Y/N had lied to him about her parents.

“Well, it’s almost like they are,” Alice said with a sigh. “I never forgave my daughter for how she treated her.”

“What happened?” Kaz asked, his frown deepening as he tried to piece everything together.

Alice sighed, her expression heavy with old pain. “Her parents had a complicated relationship. They decided to have her anyway, but within two years, they were so tired of each other that they just left. Moved to opposite points of the world and started new families.”

Kaz was stunned. This revelation added so much more context to Y/N's reluctance towards being in a serious relationship. It explained why she didn’t want to be bound to someone, why she thought she would be unable to handle it.

“They never saw each other again,” Alice continued, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Not even once did they come to see their daughter.”

Kaz could hardly believe it. The thought of Y/N growing up feeling unwanted and discarded by her own parents made his heart ache. He realized now why she always tested the boundaries of their relationship, why she sought so much reassurance. She had been conditioned to expect abandonment and hurt, and he was determined to prove her wrong.

Alice watched him, her gaze softening as she saw the realization and resolve in his eyes. “She’s been through a lot, Kaz. More than she lets on. She needs someone who won’t just say they love her but will show it every day.”

Kaz nodded, a steely determination setting in. “I will. I’ll show her every day that I’m not going anywhere.”

Alice smiled, a hint of approval in her eyes. “Good. She deserves that.”

Kaz took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility but also a renewed sense of purpose. Y/N had patiently pulled him out of his personal hell, and she still was. Now, it was his turn to help her. He owed her that and more.

He thought back to the countless times she had been there for him, even when he didn't realize he needed someone. Her unwavering support, her patience, and her understanding had been his anchor. Every touch, every comforting word had chipped away at the walls he had built around himself.

Y/N had given him something he thought he'd never have: a chance at a normal life, a chance to heal. She had stayed by his side through his darkest moments, and now, it was his turn to be her rock. He was determined to show her that she didn't have to face her fears alone.

Kaz looked up at Alice, who was watching him with a knowing smile. “I’ll take care of her,” he promised. 

Alice nodded, her expression softening. “I believe you.”

[wilgentak]

bound by water

posting this again because a six of crows spin-off/shadow and bone third season still hasn't been announced & and i'm still losing my mind over kanej

the context is that inej is part of the dregs (again), after the events of the books or tv series, and she and kaz have grown closer to each other. inej’s pov because i truly adore her & writing from her pov was kind of healing. let me know what you think about it <3

fell in love with @jccatstudios's character design of the crows, so i used that as inspiration for what inej was wearing. you can find jccatstudios on instagram & twitter as well!!

fandom: six of crows series - leigh bardugo & shadow and bone (tv series) type: birthday fic with tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff and some literal & figurative steaminess pairing: inej ghafa x kaz brekker pov: inej’s word count: 3,457 on ao3 as well

summary: it’s inej’s birthday and kaz has a surprise for her.

When Inej returns to the Slat after shadowing a sketchy mercher’s movements that day, she finds Nina and Jesper leaning against one of the walls in the entryway. They glance at her, each other, and back to her, grinning from ear to ear. Or smirking, really.

Inej squints her eyes at them, edging closer. Separately, Jesper or Nina scheming cannot be trusted. Together? The trail of chaos they’d leave behind would reach Fjerda.

“Well?” Inej raises her eyebrows, playing along with their game. “What is it?”

Nina loses the smirking contest first. She breaks out in a short laugh, setting off a warm feeling in Inej’s chest. Nina straightens her face, cheeks rosy from amusement. “Inej,” she speaks authoritatively, as if this is a legal matter. “We have a message for you.”

Jesper nods solemnly, mirroring Nina’s attitude. He crosses his arms before his lime green waistcoat. “A message from Kaz to be precise.”

Inej’s heart skips a beat. Nina’s grin is back, raising her eyebrows knowingly to Jesper. Inej hasn’t seen Kaz yet today. She was planning to meet him in his attic when she arrived at the Slat, as she did most evenings. To report back on the secrets, clues, scandals she collected that day. And, when business had been discussed and she wanted to, which was often, to linger. Kaz let her.

They would play a game of chess, catching glances at each other, which was how Inej discovered that Kaz has a scheming face specifically for chess. Or Inej would feed walnuts to the crows in the large windowsill as Kaz watched. Or they would read; Kaz poetry, Inej the adventures of her heroes, the silence between them only disturbed by the turning of crisp pages. Inej loves this time with him. It’s a ritual they grew into over the last months. A ritual that Inej would love to cultivate today. It’s her birthday, after all.

This morning she stumbled into a kitchen filled with the scent that can calm any storm. Waffles. She found her family cramped around the one dark wooden table that was stashed there. Nina, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias. She could have sworn their faces were framed with halo’s, but maybe that was just the morning light through the hazy window. They shared breakfast and Inej started her day with a belly full of butter, syrup and laughter.

Kaz hadn’t been there, to her disappointment, but she told herself he had his reasons. Maybe the message he gave to Nina and Jesper shed light on that.

If they are ever going to share it with her. These two smirking darlings are enjoying themselves so much. But she knows their secret won’t last much longer. After all, it’s Inej they’re talking to.

“Kaz would be disappointed if you didn’t deliver that message.” Inej shifts her gaze between Nina and Jesper, feeling a grin tuck at her lips. “So shoot, if you want to spare yourself from a piercing gaze. Or worse.”

“Anything for you, birthday girl,” Jesper grins. “He’s waiting for you in his attic.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” Inej tells them, already standing, turned to go up the stairs.

 “Not as much as you will!” Nina yells after her. Inej can’t stop the smile spreading on her face.

Her feet are feathers, always, as she travels up the two flights of rickety stairs. Her heart thumps steadily in her chest. There was a time she didn’t let it, a time she railed herself in. Lately she’s trying to welcome the sensation, to invite it to her body and allow it to fill her up. It feels strange, exciting. Like revealing a secret room, the discovery of a vacant space. That you can use it. That you’re allowed to fill that space.

Kaz is sitting behind his desk when Inej enters after knocking, his nose in stacks of documents, linen sleeves rolled up. Through the open window the sun streaks Kaz’s attic in golden, the last rays of the day. His dark leather gloves shine on the side of his desk. Yes, Ketterdam is so moist that it seeps into your skin, but even this city cannot hide from the force of summer and how it stretches the evenings. The turmoil from the city feels far away from here. Instead, Kaz’s attic is filled with something else… a fragrance delicate and fresh.

Kaz looks up from his desk, meets her eye. “Hello, Inej.”

She offers a smile. “Hello, Kaz.”

She walks up to him. Leans on the desk to his left, resting her hands behind her and crossing her ankles. She locks eyes with him. “Nina and Jesper were insufferably mischievous downstairs.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his high-backed chair. Puts down the letter he was reading, resting his hands close to hers. “Nothing new there.”

Inej uncrosses her ankles. Her thigh brushes the hair on his forearm. He holds her gaze.

It’s what they’ve been doing recently: folding the space between them, stretching their touches. Slowly learning, showing what they enjoy. Often, it’s how Inej wants to touch him, reclaiming her relationship with touch, after years of being trained to endure, not initiate. Letting Kaz touch her is more challenging, since she has to catch her body before it slips away, rejecting the habit to dissociate. It’s how Kaz wants to be touched by her, taking pleasure in how her touch can make him feel safe, can be a buoy instead of towering waves. Him touching her, bare skin, is difficult even on good days, but covering his skin before reaching out to her grounds him.

Kaz shoves his chair back and stands up. “I have something for you.”

Inej cannot hide the surprise on her face.

Kaz grabs his cane and crosses the office to open the door to his bedroom. Inej breathes in the honey that reaches her, stronger now. He looks over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

She’s behind him in an instant. She was only ever able to catch glances at the space they’re entering, never having stepped foot in it before. As a Dreg, she learned to scan any room she enters, instinctively, swiftly. But she’s not taking in the entirety of this private room now. No, her eyes are directly drawn to the white tub in the corner.

Steam rises from the water surface that is not covered by foam or orange and red flower petals, filling the room with a heavenly haze. Candles are lit on top of the small wooden table beside it, Kaz’s drawer, at the back of the tub. A fragrance pure and light fills her senses. She’s speechless.

“Happy birthday, Inej.”

Inej pulls her gaze away from the wonder that is this steamy tub to turn to Kaz. He’s clasping his cane in front of him, resting both hands on the metal crow’s head. He holds her gaze, steadily, but she notices something there that’s rare. She doesn’t want to blink when he’s letting her see it.

“It’s tulip. Nina assisted.”

Inej’s heart swells even more. How beautifully unexpected that he decided to ask for help.

“Kaz, this is wonderful.” She’s full-on grinning now.

His doubt disappears and his face lights up. He’s so pretty. He nods to the chair by the tub. “Nina picked out some clothes from your room to change into when you’re done bathing.”

Inej takes the smallest step closer to him.

“I’ll be in my office. But I won’t disturb you, so please enjoy for as long as you want to.”

She looks up into his eyes as she rests her fingertips, fingers, then palm on his wrist. “Thank you.”

His lips quirk upwards. Then he turns, closes the door behind him. She listens as the thumps of his cane fall silent as he repositions himself behind his desk. And she’s alone.

Inej lets her gaze circle the room. The tub stands under a slanted roof that holds a square window cracked open. The clouds have turned to a shade of lilac and rose. A bed is placed to the only straight wall in the room, accompanied by a side table. His washbasin is next to his dresser, a blurry mirror above it. These are Kaz’s private quarters and he’s trusting her with it.

Who knew Kaz had something like this up his sleeve. She imagines the look on Nina’s face when Kaz asked for help. She must have been intolerably delighted. Inej chuckles.

She breathes in the subtle scent that has filled the room. Inej can’t wait to dip her tired feet into the tub. Let the warmth take her in. Cover herself with velvet petals. Watch as the clouds turn from pastels to dark shades.

Her fingertips slide across the sheaths of her knives, where she releases each one, carefully positioning them on top of Kaz’s drawer. He has allowed himself to be vulnerable to prepare this for her, and gratefulness washes over her. As her fingers reach up to undo the first clasp of her vest, waves swirl low in her belly. Something new emerges, bubbling up to the surface. Her fingers pause in midair. She wants to reciprocate, meet him halfway.

Her knife sheaths already empty, she turns to open the crooked door to Kaz’s office. She keeps one hand on the rough doorframe as she watches how he looks up from his desk, surprised.

She inhales deeply, steadying herself. It’s something she has done before, but suggesting it would be a first. Her wanting to is a first. And this is Kaz she’s talking to. How will he react?

“Do you want to watch as I undress?” she asks, recognizing the nervous rhythm of her heart in her ears.

Inej can see the subtlest rise of his eyebrows, widening of his eyes. She refuses to break eye contact. He needs to know that she doesn’t want this because she believes he wants her to take off her clothes. She wants this because she’s trying to change how her body remembers showing her skin to men. “I want you to.”

She studies his face. His look is stern, it is almost always. She’s trained in his features: the tiniest twitch of his eyebrows, the clenching of his jaw, when and how long he breaks eye contact. But right now, he shows no movements she can decipher. She’s trained in patience as well, but this moment of silence rattles at her foundations.

The chair scrapes the old wooden floor as Kaz stands up. “Yes,” he replies simply.

The voice in her head finishes: the deal is the deal. “Okay,” she nods.

Kaz follows her. For a moment they stand there, in his bedroom. Inej knows it’s Kaz who stands next to her, she has rescued him again and again, he has rescued her again and again. There’s no one she’d rather do this with than him, no one she trusts more. But she has to keep her head straight or she won’t be able to look him in the eye. Let’s take this step by step.

She walks over to the tub, halts next to the chair. “You can sit wherever you want,” she tells him. But there’s not many options besides the chair that’s already used by her clothes and towel. In fact, there’s only one.

The frame creaks softly as Kaz sits down on his bedsheets and rests his cane beside him. Inej could touch his knees in barely three steps. He looks up at her. She recognises this position when she’s perched in his window, leaning or sitting on his desk while he’s working there. She’s used to watching from above as the Wraith as well. It soothes her nerves, just a bit.

Not enough to hold his gaze. But enough to slowly reach her hands to her chest and undo the first clasp of her vest. The muscles in her upper back and shoulders stiffen as she can feel herself slipping into a performance. She sees herself standing there, trembling fingers at the first hook of her clothes. She takes a shaky breath, closing her eyes. Using her senses to return to her body. She wriggles her toes in her dearest slippers. Outside the window she can hear her beloved crows, inside distantly the rickety stairs of the Slat. The floral fragrance is calming. She can stop any moment she wants to, she knows that. But she doesn’t want to.

She’s Inej Ghafa and with the release of a breath, she shakes the skin of a lynx from her body.

Kaz is there when she opens her eyes, the worry between his dark brows fades when he sees her expression. Making way for the tiniest arch of one of his eyebrows. It’s an invitation. She accepts.

Carefully she loosens the clasps on her vest. The violet fabric of her tunic shifts underneath. She lets her vest slide down behind her body, over her upper arms, elbows and catches it in her hand as it falls over her wrists. She hangs it on the back of the chair.

Next are the fingerless gloves that cover her entire forearms. Finger for finger, she slips them off. Perching on the edge of the chair, she takes of her slippers, storing them beneath the chair. The wooden floor is cool under her feet. A welcome sensation, because she’s feeling hot. Hot under Kaz’s gaze, who’s giving her his full attention.

She’s well aware of the flush that must have grown on her cheeks. They’ve stripped in front of each other during jobs countlessly, taking on new identities in the dim alleys of Ketterdam. This is different entirely. No hiding in plain sight, and it’s how she wants it to be. The heat in her body near Kaz is nothing new. She wants to cherish it, instead of trying to push it away. Kaz’s gaze makes the sensation grow only stronger.

She catches the clenching of his jaw. Maybe she’s not the only one growing flustered.

Right below her neck, Inej loosens the ties of her tunic. She crosses her arms over the thin, swift material and slowly stretches her arms on top of her head, taking the fabric with her. She folds the purple blouse in her bare arms. There’s not many walls left now. And she’s beginning to enjoy it. With every layer of clothing, armour, removed, she discovers newfound courage, lightness. Yes, outside this protection, her armour, is what keeps her safe, dangerous. In here, she can feel strong even with her shields lowered.

Her top is next. She stretches out her arms, once again, and feels the evening air against her belly. The chill feels wonderful. Perching on the chair, she slides down the stretchy fabric of her trousers to pull them off. Her hands take the braid behind her back and slide between the strands. Kaz’s gaze is fixated on her fingers gliding up and down, unravelling the coils. She frees her hair completely, and the comforting weight drapes behind her body. Now, facing Kaz once more, she stands before him in nothing but her underwear, hair down, and locks eyes with him, embracing the raw vulnerability of this moment.

His gaze is fixed on her face. His eyes deep and vast, his brows slightly furrowed. She knows this look. She trembles lightly, the waves in her low belly swelling. She wants more of what he’s showing her.

“Kaz,” she asks, voice low, “will you take my bra off?”

His answer is the creaking of the bedframe as he stands up and closes the distance between them. He stands before her, fully clothed, and so close, she can see the pink on his cheeks, his dilated pupils. His breath is high and shallow, just like hers. Her arms are covered in goosebumps.

Slowly, Kaz lifts his fingers. Inej holds her breath. He touches the dark fabric on her ribs, gently lets his hands embrace the sides of her body. She feels the weight of his hands as she lets out her breath. The heat of his touch sets her skin aflame. He’s burning her. Or she’s burning up.

She reaches her fingers upwards, inviting him to take the flexible band and slide it upwards. His cool fingernails brush her skin as he curls them under the fabric and shifts it higher and higher until it catches all her hair, releasing it moments later when Kaz slides the garment from her wrists. Her hair cascades down, enveloping her in a midnight waterfall.

His gaze is unwavering, endless, fixed on her eyes. Inej wants it everywhere.

“You can look,” she breathes. “If you want.”

He does. She watches the length of his dark eyelashes as he traces his gaze downwards, deliberately, languid. Lips parted, rosy flush on his cheeks growing. She feels the heat radiate from her body, between her thighs, the tips of her ears. Nerves mixed with growing confidence.

Slowly, through lowered lashes, Kaz locks his eyes with hers again. He raises his fingers and slides them under a strand of her hair between her shoulder and the column of her neck. Inej watches closely as he lifts it up, gliding down its length, patiently, until, finally, he gently presses his lips to her hair.

Her breath hitches in her chest.

His lips still hovering above her hair, Kaz meets her eye. “You’re beautiful, Inej,” he whispers.

Oh, Saints.

Inej trembles before him. Her tides rise with every breath, washing over her, building and building. She can’t stop staring at his lips, his fingers, his eyes. His lips, his fingers, his eyes. He called her beautiful, but how can she ever express how he looks to her this moment? He’s boundless.

Inej draws closer. Her hair slips through his fingers. She would never. She takes his hand, dextrous, dependable, weaving her fingers through his, letting them rest at their sides. Closer. Until the blissful press of their bodies together. It makes her dizzy. She feels the rising and fall of his chest, their breathing synching into the same heavy rhythm. His lips tender and flushed. His eyes deep mahogany. She feels a sense of safety and security with him that’s unparalleled.

She reaches her free hand to his face, cupping his rough cheek in her palm. Kaz closes his eyes and offers her the slightest sigh as he presses himself to her touch. The wonderful fan of his eyelashes. She’s so close, she can count them. She wants him so much, she’s barely standing.

“Kaz,” Inej breathes. His eyes open to meet hers, scanning her features. “I want to kiss you.”

She remembers the first time she pressed her lips to his. Softly, exploratory. It was after an evening of celebrating a victory for the Dregs with her family. An evening of her knee to Kaz’s underneath the table, bathing in the warm pressure of his hand on her thigh. Afterwards, she followed him up the stairs. In his attic the air thickened, and they chatted, laughed, as they drew closer. When Inej said she would retreat to her room to rest, Kaz whispered her name, lowering his face. All Inej could do was brush his nose with hers, and fold her lips between his. It had made her feel delirious.

Similar to how she’s feeling right now. Drunk on his gaze, scent, fingertips between hers. The maroon blossoms further on her cheeks. Kaz parts his lips.

“Please.” His voice a low rasp.

Bubbles popping in her belly, she reaches up and captures his sweet lips in a kiss. Kaz releases his hand from hers and presses both to the small curve of her naked back, curling into her hair once again, bringing her even closer. The heat rises to her head, and she sinks into his touch as he deepens the kiss. She slides her fingers over his cheek, into his hair, tangled. He presses his fingers into the strong muscles of her back. She feels him everywhere.

Inej places a hand on his chest when they separate. Close, still so close. His touch lingers on her lips. She can feel his delightfully heavy breath on her cheek. He rests his forehead against hers. Calm waves cradle her ship. An eternity passes.

“Perhaps I should get some more hot water.”

Inej opens her eyes to catch the twinkle in his eyes. She grins back. This devotion could keep her afloat forever. Kaz’s touch stays hot. The bath, inevitably, does not.

“Perhaps,” Inej repeats.

Slowly, she turns to dip her fingers in the floral tub, brushing the velvet petals. She glances over her shoulder, eyebrow raised, as she asks, “You like it hot?”

Kaz grins, his eyes devilish. Inej already knows the answer to that.

[eerna]

is it weird that at this point if there are future seasons of SaB, I am sort of hoping they go even *more* completely off rails and bizarre compared to the books, because I feel like..if they really do just start telling a fully different story, maybe that will further justify the creation of a proper SoC adaptation some day in the future? 'cause now that they speed-ran CK major emotional beats, I don't want this one to try to get better. it's too late even if they wanted to, they can't just do those scenes again. None of the crows are in the same desperately-in-need-of-money situation they were in in the books. So even if they have Kaz say he only wants money, his lack of clear need for it (what with Pekka already confronted and punished) makes that excuse obviously unbelievable to the audience. so it seems like Kaz's new motivation for taking his friends somewhere as dangerous as the ice court must just be..altruism? he is now very concerned about the state of the world ig? the crows are a band of edgy super heroes employed by the ravkan government??? idk. whatever, at this point! now the og hope is gone, I want chaos. I want it to just get weirder and weirder with the writing decisions until nothing resembling the books remains. Like watching a car crash. If you aren't going to tell the story at least be bad in a way that's amusing in it's absurdity, yknow??

BJkbdkjvskabk that's the spirit!! Def more fun to enjoy the car crash than to cry over it the way I do

[dreamtigress]

A Writer’s Ask Game

11.  Books and/or authors who influenced you the most

27.  Favourite line/scene

32.  Most difficult character to write.

38.  Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had

Thanks for asking, @hotpinkmurex!

11.  Books and/or authors who influenced you the most

Tough one, because there's a lot of answers...

Anne McCaffrey was the first fantasy/sci fi I ever read, and as such, had a lot of sway over my brain for a bit. I even wrote a thesis style paper on Pern in HS and corresponded with her about the books. The first fan fiction I ever 'wrote' were self insert fantasies of Pern and dragons and fire lizards that I made in my head endlessly.

Then there's Robin McKinley, Tanya Huff, Terry Pratchett, and most recently, T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon. They influence my sense of humor in my writing, my love of offbeat and reluctant heros, lovable anti-heroes, turning tropes upside down, witty banter, and more. I've read and re-read many of their books over the years.

27.  Favourite line/scene

Another toughie, because SO MANY possibilities. But, keeping on my theme of late, I'm going to pick an SoC scene, and go with the Geldrenner bathroom Kanej scene. SO much happens there. So many emotions, exposition, and things of import for the characters. It's visceral punch in the feels. I've re-read it multiple times and it never ceases to pack that punch.

32.  Most difficult character to write.

Of the ones I write POV's for regularly, probably Jesper. It takes me a bit to settle into the chaos of his mind so I can portray it accurately. Of my OC's that I had written recently, I did section for Zurye, and I am still not sure if I have found her voice completely.

38.  Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had

Less a weird full fledged story idea, and more just an amusing note that has been sitting in my ideas section for a bit. Not sure if I will use it in a story somewhere.

"At some point, Inej notices all three men have freckles, and she’s tickled pink by this." Referencing Kaz, Jesper, and Wylan.

From this Ask Meme: https://www.tumblr.com/dreamtigress/751854523393490944/a-writers-ask-game?source=share

[sankttealeaf]

race to the finish line

fandom ; six of crows

summary ; While laying low from the law, Jesper and Kaz partake in a (sort of) friendly horse race.

other info ; part of the @grishaversebigbang's mini bang event! find the art from @maxe-murderer HERE and from @beani-ed HERE

Also posted over on AO3

Luck had refused to be on their side that night. It wasn’t even in the room the crows gathered in to plan out their sting of heists, which was the first sign that things were going to go wrong. The second sign things were going to go bad were the increased patrols of Stadtwatch in the area they were staking out. A few loud noises, broken glass and a lost hat later, the crows were hightailing it out from the city, chased out by the law. At some point in the chaos they had stolen a few horses, so their escape was quicker than on foot.

Kaz knew of a place where they could lay low for a while - he always did. It was near the south of Kerch, on the outskirts of Lij, a small farmhouse he had purchased a while ago. His family home to be exact, and the rest of the group had no idea.

“The owners of this place aren’t home, right?” Jesper asked, dragging a finger through the thin layer of dust that had settled on the table. “The last thing we need is to be on the run again.”

“Of course they are.” Kaz pulled out a chair, amused at Jesper’s face falling in shock. “Who do you think owns the place?”

Jesper blinked at Kaz, piecing together what he had just said in his mind. “Wait, you’re a homeowner?”

“I’m everywhere.” He hadn’t planned on revealing this place to the group this early on, or ever, actually. But times called for a hideout that was unknown by the law, so this card had to be played.

Nina shut the doors of the cabinets with a heavy sigh, sliding into the seat Jesper was about to take. “You didn't stock up on food, though. I missed out on dinner for this heist.”

“I hadn’t planned on needing to use this space. You should’ve packed some snacks.”

“I didn't know we would be in hiding, Brekker,” Nina huffed. A small box was placed in front of her, and she gave a look to Matthias, who shrugged.

“You get hungry during heists. I packed some cake.”

There wasn't much to do in the farmhouse or the surrounding area, and with Ketterdam on high alert after their plans went awry the crows found themselves looking for anything to do. Which is how Wylan found himself being thrown head first into riding lessons, taught by Jesper.

“I’d rather just watch you ride,” Wylan said, turning back to Jesper who was ushering him towards the horse with glee. “Really, Jes, I’m much better at watching.”

“No, no, I refuse to leave here until I’ve taught you all I know about horse riding. Now, up!” Jesper gestured to the saddle, ignoring Wylan’s look of disappointment. With a defeated sigh, he hoisted himself up onto the back of the horse, already regretting this decision.

Jesper knew a lot about riding, but not enough about teaching. He called out commands and ways Wylan should adjust in his seat, only to be met with confusion and frustrated yells from the other. It had taken them half an hour for Wylan to even consider walking, and even then he was telling Jesper that it was enough for him.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Jesper?” A voice spoke from behind them. Jesper turned, spotting Kaz standing by the fence.

“What do you mean? He’s learning.”

“You can’t keep still in the saddle. Last time I saw you on horseback you fell off.”

“Shut up. I’m a great teacher. And an even better rider.”

“History proves otherwise.”

Jesper glared at Kaz, the comments to his riding abilities bruising his ego. He adjusted his waistcoat as he stood upright. “I could beat you at a race.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “No, you couldn’t.”

“So, any bets on me?” Jesper asked, looking down at the rest of the group who had settled themselves along the fence by the makeshift starting point. Silence. Jesper frowned. “Thanks, really, I appreciate it.”

“My bet’s on Kaz,” Nina said with a nod of her head in Kaz’s direction. “Look at him. If a man ever looked at me like that, I’d follow his orders. And I never follow orders.”

“I’m also with Nina on this one. Kaz has my bet,” Inej added, giving an apologetic look to Jesper. “Sorry, Jes.”

“I’m wounded. You’re awful, the lot of you!” He exclaimed, a hand over his head in mock hurt. 

"You have my vote," Wylan said with a smile.

" Finally . Someone knows a winner when they see one!" Jesper gave Wylan a wink, as Kaz mounted his horse, ready to get the race started.

"Just don't fall off." Wylan gave Jesper a supportive thumbs up, as everyone slowly turned their gaze to the only person who had yet to place a bet - Matthias. Nina gave him a nudge, and he sighed heavily.

"Neither of you are worth placing actual money on to me-"

"How honourable of you to not take part in a friendly bet," Nina interrupted, rolling her eyes at how he always seemed to find a way to take the high ground.

"Fine." Matthias looked between Jesper, who was eagerly awaiting a vote from him, and Kaz, who was waiting for the race to hurry up and start. Matthias pointed. "Kaz."

"What? Why?" Wait - don't answer that, I don't think I can take it!" Everyone knew Jesper was exaggerating the hurt he was feeling, it wouldn't be a Jesper problem without big theatrics and an attempt at making a tear roll down his cheek for extra points. Luckily for the group, Kaz moved to place himself at the starting point and began to list off the rules of the race. One: no cheating. Two: stay on horseback for the entire race. Fastest wins.

Inej gave a countdown, and on 'go' the two galloped off down the dirt path, leaving the rest of the crows in the dust. They watched the two race off and once they were both out of sight, Wylan spoke up.

"Shall I make some tea while we wait?"

The road diverted off into a small forest, as Kaz has mentioned during the pre-race talk. At the moment they were neck and neck, but as the road narrowed Jesper managed to pull ahead, letting out a loud cheer as he passed Kaz.

"I told you I'm going to win!" Jesper exclaimed, not noticing Kaz slow down as he rode off ahead, brimming with excitement at being in first place.

Kaz knew this area well, having grown up here as a child. He remembered a little trail off the beaten track he and Jordie used to explore, and how it would loop around towards the end of the main trail, close to the finish line. Kaz clicked for his horse to move towards the bushes, knowing this would be faster for him. Jesper would not see it coming. 

The overgrown branches were becoming a bit of a bother as Jesper struggled to keep them from hitting his face, and he turned around to see if Kaz was having the same problem.

The road was empty. Kaz was nowhere to be seen.. Did he take a wrong turn already?

"This is really nice tea, Wylan," Nina said, lounging back on a lawn chair she had found somewhere, the tea poured into a whiskey glass she had also found somewhere , topped with a tiny umbrella. "Would pair well with some ginger biscuits."

"Are you sure you didn't want it in a teacup?" Wylan asked, giving Inej a smile as he finished pouring her a cup.

"No way! This makes me feel fancy, like I'm at the races watching actual horsemen riding and not… those two," she replied with a wave of her hand towards the general direction Kaz and Jesper rode off towards. “We should go to the races one day. I will make it happen.”

“Kaz is banned from the racecourse,” Inej said, and Nina raised an eyebrow at the statement.

“How do you get banned from the races?”

Inej knew the real answer - he had attempted to steal one of the winning horses and replace him with an untrained horse and let the chaos ensue. Somehow his plan was uncovered, and now he was not allowed back. Nina was waiting for a response. She shrugged. “He never told me how.”

The conversation ended there as Matthias rejoined the group with some more chairs. He and Nina had checked the small shed earlier, and she left the moment she found a chair for herself.

"I found another one of those chairs under some boxes." He placed it down for Inej to sit on. Under his arm were two fold out stools, and he gave one to Wylan.

"Wonderful! Now it feels like a real party." Nina grinned, handing her plate of cake and her drink to Matthias as he sat down so she could lay back.

The trail twisted and turned through the forest, and Jesper could only assume he was still in first place. It was hard to pinpoint when Kaz disappeared; he was going to bring this up to the rest of the group to see if it came under the “no cheating” rule. He had to be cheating. The trail began to straighten out now, the treeline becoming less dense as he approached the end of the forest. If he sat a little taller, he could make out the farmhouse in the distance. The final stretch, and Kaz was still nowhere to be seen.

“C’mon, girl. We’ve got this,” he mumbled, spurring his horse to go faster. He could taste the win. Out of nowhere, breaking through the treeline came a familiar black horse, a smug Kaz on his back. He was a good few feet in front of Jesper now, much to his dismay. 

“Hey!” he yelled out with a frown. “That’s not allowed!”

“There was nothing in the rules about taking a shortcut. It’s useful to know the area you are racing in, Jesper. You might just find an advantage,” Kaz replied, amused to see Jesper get so worked up over a loophole.

“No, no! That was cheating, and you know it! I’m going to tell the others.”

“You have no proof.”

Kaz was now past the break in the treeline, and Jesper knew if he didn't close the space soon he was going to lose. He couldn’t lose. Not to Kaz. Not to stupid Kaz and his stupid loopholes.

“They’re close,” Inej said softly, rising from her chair to look down the road. She was right - the faint sound of hoofbeats running down the dirt path could be heard. The four were quick to set down their cake and tea, rushing over towards the finish line to get a good look at who would be crowned the winner. From their position, it seemed like Kaz and Jesper were neck and neck, neither managing to get ahead of the other. 

“Who looks like they’re winning?” Wylan asked, looking at Matthias as he was the tallest and had a better view.

He shrugged. “I can’t tell.”

“Kaz has to be. He hates losing,” Nina suggested.

“So does Jesper,” added Wylan.

The horses grew closer, and the four stepped back to give them enough room to pass. Inej was crouched by the finish line, ready to take note of who passed first. It’s not too long before they both cross the finish line.

“I knew I would win!” Jesper proclaimed loudly, pointing over towards Kaz. “How does it feel to lose, huh?”

“Ask yourself that, I clearly crossed first,” Kaz replied, confident that he was the real winner. He didn't need to exclaim it like Jesper was.

“No way, I won.”

“I planned to be a head in front of you. I won.”

They both turned to Inej.

“You crossed at the exact same time.” How they managed to do that, she had no idea. Jesper began exclaiming how unfair that was, and how he was demanding a rematch. There was no way they crossed together like that!

“The horses are tired, Jesper,” Kaz said as he dismounted, Jesper following shortly after. “And I refuse to ride anyone else’s horse.”

With a sigh, Jesper gave Kaz a defeated look, knowing there was no way they were going to settle this without a rematch. “Call it a draw?”

Kaz waited a moment, just to make Jesper worry he was going to say no. “Draw.”

With them both accepting the title of winner (and loser, but neither of them said much about that part), they joined the rest of the group in drinking tea and eating cake. A good way to lay low from the law.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Empyrean - Chapter Six

Chapter 6

Elham followed Kaz’s trail, catching up to him soon after she left the cemetery. He eventually realized she was there, slowing his pace down just enough for her to catch up, but neither of them spoke to each other. It was silent the whole way to wherever it was they were going, as Kaz had yet to tell her where exactly that was.

After a few minutes, Elham realized they had moved from the edge of the city into the more rural part, where various aristocrats, elites, and gang leaders resided. 

She shuddered the further they went into town, pulling her coat tighter around her. Finally–after what was an incredibly awkward walk–they arrived at a building lined with faded red brick. A bar, she assumed, by the look of some of the pigeons stumbling around a few feet away in the courtyard. Kaz went up the stairs leading to the door without explanation, forcing her to follow. Just before he opened the door, he turned to her.

“Don’t kill anyone unless they’re going to kill you.”

Elham’s eyes widened in shock as she quickly looked around, already itching to reach for her sword. “What?”

Without another word, Kaz opened the door and stepped inside.

Upon their entry, any conversations being had immediately ceased. All the men stood up, except for one. He turned around on his barstool without a care in the world, lazily looking between Kaz and Elham. The sudden realization hit her that this was Per Haskell, the leader of the Dregs. Not a particularly scary gang, in Elham’s opinion, but they were still a gang.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Kaz Brekker and his Valkyrie. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Per Haskell,” Kaz said, taking a few steps forward.

“Pekka offered every gang good coin for your beaten corpse and your girl delivered to the Menagerie. His words, not mine. Looks like you bit off more than you can chew.”

Kaz ignored his taunts with a clenched jaw, much to Elham’s displeasure. “You’ll get your chance at that later, but that’s not what I'm here for. I need half a dozen men for a job. I’m not here for the washed-up cadgers and cowards…I’m here for the hungry ones. The hard ones. I’m here for the killers. People like me and my Valkyrie.”

Haskell looked amused as he listened to Kaz speak, sharing glances with his men. Although, there was a slight look of fear on his face, like he knew danger–real danger–had just stepped onto his turf. Finally, he waved his hand. 

“Men!” He called.

The man behind Kaz and Elham locked the door, guarding it. Another wrapped a metal chain around his hand, the others coming to stand next to him. They watched Kaz and Elham like sharks, circling their prey. 

Haskell had returned to his drink, speaking like he was bored of the conversation. “Kill this Barrel rat, but leave the girl. I’ve heard enough about her to know you don’t want her haunting you in the night.”

Elham quickly looked over at Kaz, imperceptibly raising a brow. They had mere seconds to make a decision, and Kaz’s orders from before they came in were echoing in Elham’s mind, refusing to leave her be. ‘Don’t kill anyone unless they’re going to kill you’ wasn’t looking like the most viable option with the way Haskell’s men were stalking closer. Kaz raised his cane, setting it on the other side of him. He tapped it to the base of her ankle in rapid succession, before returning it to his side, and it told her all she needed to know. 

Fight. Fight, and win. Destroy.

The room erupted into chaos. 

The man behind them lunged for Kaz, but he was already two steps ahead. He swung his cane for the man’s legs, tripping him. He whacked him in the side, before sticking his can through the slats of a wooden chair by the door. He flung it with anger, sending it shattering over the bar inches from Haskell’s head. 

Elham let out a laugh, reaching for the hilt of her sword. She realized now that she wouldn’t even have to use it. Not to kill anyone, anyway. These men would be an easy enough fight, and she could get by with just bashing them around a bit. 

“You two, get off your asses!” Haskell shouted, and the two men hesitating next to him set their eyes on Elham. 

She smirked, looking over her shoulder to see Kaz shoving the head of his cane into a man’s stomach, before cracking it over the head of another. She turned back to face the two men charging at her, quickly unsheathing her sword the rest of the way. Sliding down to her knees, she skid across the floor past the two men. With one end of her sword, she jammed the hilt into the back of the man on the left’s knees as she slid past him, slicing the calf of the man on the right with the other end of her sword. Not enough to cause significant damage, but certainly enough to send him crashing to his knees, crying out in pain. Both men were now buckled on the floor, groaning.

Elham was grimacing too, feeling the cuts on her knees from scraping them on the pavement beginning to throb. Taking a breath, she stood and turned around to face Kaz. One of the men had gotten close enough, and he sent his fist cracking across Kaz’s jaw. Seething, Elham decided her sword wasn’t necessary to cause this man any pain.

She could do that all on her own.

She quickly sheathed her sword, stepping into a defensive stance as she inserted herself into the middle of the fight. She grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him around to face her. She bawled up her fist, feeling his nose crunch under her knuckles as she punched him square in the face. As he stumbled back, Kaz swung his cane, sending him smashing into the floor. 

He swung again towards the man next to him, and Elham watched as the blood spewed out of his mouth. More men from the far side of the room rushed Kaz, immediately landing blows. Kaz was eventually outmanned, being knocked to the floor. Elham faltered, abandoning the fight to try and help him up.

Suddenly, a chain was wrapped around her neck. 

Elham immediately stilled, her hands coming to wrap around it. Her vision began to cloud as the chain tightened around her neck. She could hear glass breaking, and the sound of Kaz grunting. He had been pulled up to his feet, and his arms were restrained behind him by one man as another punched him in the gut. Elham finally managed to dig her fingers under the chain, giving herself enough slack so that she could suck in a breath. With all her might, she bent forward as hard as she could. 

The man pulling the chain faltered, tumbling over his own feet from the sheer force and surprise of her escape attempt. It was enough for Elham to completely take hold of the chain, ripping it from his hands. 

She quickly wrapped it around her hand, swinging. It cracked across her attacker’s face, instantly knocking him out cold. 

Kaz had managed to wiggle his way free from one of the men, giving himself enough room to grab the knife from inside his coat pocket. He lodged it into the man’s leg, who immediately let Kaz go as he stumbled back in pain. Kaz immediately shoved him, sending him crashing through a table. While his back was turned, one of the last men in the fight tried to grab Kaz. Elham quickly unsheathed the dagger strapped to her side, grabbing ahold of him. She held it to his throat, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Another step and I’ll slice you down to the bone,” she sneered in his ear, keeping the blade flush against his neck. 

She held him still, long enough for Kaz to throw his knife, lodging it in the man’s shoulder. He screamed out in pain, slumping against Elham. Her grip didn’t falter as she waited for Kaz's next move, letting the man writhe in pain in her hold. 

Kaz bent down to pick up his cane, keeping his eyes on her. “I’ll be needing that blade back.”

Elham smirked, removing her own blade from the man’s throat, placing it back in its sheath. She turned around to face the man, who she was having to hold tightly by the shoulders to keep him upright. 

“Sorry,” she said all too sweetly as she stared him down. “Orders are orders.”

She grabbed the hilt of Kaz’s knife, pulling it from the man’s shoulder. He crumpled to the floor as soon as she let him go, blood pooling around him. She bent down to wipe the blood onto his coat, before straightening up to toss it back to Kaz. He caught it with ease, placing it back into his coat pocket. She looked back down at the man, sending a swift quick into his side with the heel of her boot, before stepping over him and joining Kaz in the middle of the room. 

Elham looked around at the carnage as she and Kaz caught their breath. Bodies littered the floor. All still alive and breathing, which was rather unfortunate, but Elham followed Kaz’s orders anyway. 

No one was dead and nothing was killed, save for a few men’s pride. 

She and Kaz were relatively unharmed, except for a few scrapes and newly forming bruises. Elham could feel her cheek throbbing, knowing a garish bruise on top of an already garish bruise was beginning to set in. She had now accepted the fact that she was probably not going to go a week without fresh bruises or some type of injury for the rest of her life.

Elham could hear the click of Kaz’s cane against the floor, pulling her from her thoughts. He was stalking up to the bar where Haskell was huddled, a scowl on his face. 

“You think you’re safe because you rolled over for Pekka Rollins?”

Haskell was quick to retort. “Takes more than what you got to get past Rollins.”

Kaz stalked closer until he was climbing the steps up to the barstools, Elham hot on his heels. He leaned in close as he spoke, his voice laced with venom.

“This city’s price is blood,” he spat as he hooked the head of his cane under Haskell’s jaw. “And I am happy to pay with yours.”

Elham smirked as Haskell turned his face away from Kaz, setting his eyes on the floor. She turned around to face the rest of the men, all of which had managed to pull themselves to their feet. Some looked worse than others, a few looking quite close to keeling over. Kaz turned away from Haskell, now facing the men as well. 

“Who do you want standing in that door when the lion gets hungry?”

The men glanced between each other with unsure faces. Elham narrowed her eyes as she addressed them, reaching a hand back to grip the hilt of her sword.

“You’re all cowards, but at least you aren’t stupid. It was smart, you know. Not killing me. Even smarter not killing Kaz Brekker. If you thought I’d haunt you after my death, imagine what I’d do to you if you’d failed to kill me and I was still alive to get my revenge. I can assure you…you don’t want to test the theory. Anyone stupid enough to try gets the blade. And I promise to make it painful. Pekka Rollins will be a fucking dream compared to me. But–while that may be true–he’s still going to come for you one day. For all of us. I suggest you’re on the right side when that day comes. And you’ll be thanking the Saints it was us who came knocking today.”

Elham stepped down the stairs away from the bar, headed for the door. The men immediately parted down the middle, letting her pass. Kaz followed behind her, stopping in front of the men when he reached them. 

“You’re all with me now.”

Without another word, Kaz and Elham walked out the door. 

–

Back in the cemetery, the Crows waited for Jesper and Wylan to return. It wasn’t until nightfall that they did, long after Nina had left. Which was rather unfortunate, considering Elham had some fresh wounds she’d much rather have magically healed instead of having to take care of them the regular way. 

It was Inej’s turn, then, to help Elham clean up. She told Elham all about her encounter with Mogen as she looked for any new cuts, grimacing when she saw the marks from the chain Elham had been choked with.

“It looks a lot worse than it feels,” Elham reassured, trying to downplay any injuries that looked particularly bad. “And knowing you killed that bastard makes me feel a lot better.”

“It doesn’t mean someone won’t come after us, you know. We still belong to the Menagerie. To Pekka,” Inej said as she finished scanning Elham for wounds, taking a seat next to her.

Elham nodded, shrugging. “That may be true. But I’d like to see them try and come for us. Knocking them on their asses would be fun, and I need a good laugh.”

Inej smiled, nodding. “So, are you going to tell me what happened today? I can see Kaz in there drinking.”

“Saints,” Elham groaned, peering around the corner to see him taking a swig out of his flask. “I’ll catch you up later. I should go steal that flask before he starts stumbling.”

Elham stood, walking into the next room. Just as she reached Kaz, the door opened, and Jesper and Wylan stepped in. They were grinning as they stepped through the threshold, stopping in their tracks when they took in the state Elham and Kaz were in.

Jesper grabbed Elham by her shoulders, turning her as he winced looking over her injuries. “What the fuck happened to you two? You look even worse than when we left.”

“The Dregs have opted to join us,” Kaz shrugged, his face set into a scowl.

Elham nodded, shooing Jesper’s hands away from her face. “Opted may be the wrong word.”

“Well?” Kaz asked, staring Jesper down. “What did you find?”

“You were right. No glass factory, just a country estate.”

Kaz nodded. “Was the boy there? What’s his name?”

The room went silent as Jesper and Wylan nervously glanced between each other, shrugging their shoulders. Neither opened their mouths, hesitating to speak. Elham raised a brow, clearing her throat to make Jesper look at her.

“What boy?”

Kaz ignored her question, narrowing his eyes at Jesper. “I know about the boy, and you do, too. Don’t pretend otherwise. He renamed the Crow Club the Kaelish Prince, and Pekka would never see himself as anything other than a King.”

Pekka has a son, Elham realized. Sometimes, it scared her just how clever Kaz could be. It scared her even more knowing what he was capable of doing, knowing just how far he was willing to take this. And it scared her most of all, knowing just how far she would follow him.

“So,” Kaz said, never breaking eye contact with Jesper as he lowered his voice. “What is the boy’s name?”

Jesper hesitated for a moment, making Elham frown. She kept quiet as Kaz stared him down, Wylan anxiously watching the entire exchange. Slowly, she wrapped her hand around the sleeve of Jesper’s coat, giving it a small tug. It was enough to make him cease his hesitation, and he sighed as he opened his mouth. 

“Alby…Alby Rollins.”

Kaz nodded, immediately turning to walk into the other room.

“You promised!” Wylan said exasperatedly towards Jesper, before turning to follow Kaz. “What are you going to do with him?”

“Kaz, he’s just a kid!” Jesper called after him, beginning to feel the guilt creep through him.

“Kaz?” Elham spoke gently, following him into the next room. “What are you planning to do with him? He’s a child. Most likely a spoiled brat, but he’s still a child.”

“Alby Rollins can’t help who his father is,” Wylan rushed out as he followed Elham into the room, a desperate look on his face. “And you…you can’t punish him for that. I won’t help with that.”

Elham frowned at his words, feeling a sense of pity when she looked at him. She hadn’t known him long enough to know about his past, but from the way he was vouching for the kid, she could decipher that his own parentage wasn’t ideal. Was anyone’s if they had ended up in the Barrel? She didn’t have enough time to ask any questions before Kaz shook his head, relenting. 

“You won’t have to touch a hair on his head…but you are going to help me blow up everything Pekka holds dear.”

“You said no more explosions–”

“Not that kind,” Kaz interrupted, a devilish grin on his face.

It occurred to Elham that this was the first true smile she had seen on his face since the moment they boarded the ship back to Ketterdam. It may have been for a twisted reason, but he was smiling nonetheless. She found it hard herself not to grin at the sight of it, a strange giddy feeling erupting in her stomach. She kept quiet as he spoke, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I finally found a weapon to end all of this,” Kaz continued, his eyes flitting to Elham. 

Wylan glanced between the two nervously, nearly gulping. “What weapon?”

Kaz was really smirking now, the ghost of a laugh behind his words. Elham couldn’t hide her own grin now, hanging on his every word. He was as cold as she had ever seen him, and yet, she was just as excited as he was when he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“Suffering.”

– A/N - Hi! So sorry for the long wait. Finally finished episode 3! I’ve already started writing episode 4, and I should be back again with a new chapter soon. I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. Any comments, questions, feedback, and suggestions are appreciated :)

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Engagement series! 💍🥰

My beloved friend ❤️ this is such a nice distraction for this dogshit weekend. Thank you so much for playing!

“You know how I feel about waking up alone.”

When he came back, he was drenched in rain. Saints, the weather had turned. The umbrella was all but useless halfway through his walk, and he’d left it in the stand to dry in the front hall. His sodden overcoat slapped onto the end of the breakfast table. He should have let Agatha hang it by the hearth in the den, but he’d been too eager to reach the morning room.

Jesper raised an eyebrow at him, a sparkle of amusement in his gaze over the rim of his coffee cup.

“If you catch your death wandering Ketterdam in the rain, it’ll serve you right.”

“Good morning to you, too.” Wylan rolled his eyes even as he smiled, still a touch breathless from the walk and the plan he’d set in motion that morning. His socked feet, at least, were thankfully dry, padding quietly over the rug to his boyfriend’s— betrothed’s— side.

Sprawled in the seat at the head of the table, an empty plate in front of him and a fresh cup of coffee to his side, he looked every inch the decadent merch spouse that Wylan wanted him to be able to be. Still in soft, loose pajamas with a garishly printed dressing gown draped over his shoulders. Wylan only wished he could be this comfortable all the time. He grinned, leaning over Jesper’s throne to greet him properly.

Tragically scarfless, Jes had to settle for reeling Wylan in by his wrist. He couldn’t help the happy curl of his lips against Jesper’s perfect ones— he tasted like the unadulterated sugary sweetness of apple syrup, with the bitter edge of coffee on his tongue. The little noise of protest made him chuckle, relishing the shiver against him as he used his cold hand to cup Jesper’s warm, dry jaw.

“Saints alive, Wylan—“ he gasped, immediately taking his hand in both of his, trying to rub some warmth back into the fingers. It made their rings click together. “Tell me you had a good reason for abandoning me. We have a carriage y’know, if you must—“

Usually, Wylan was the one being the mother hen to Jesper’s chaos. Then again, things hadn’t been particularly normal lately. Jes had been more subdued. The reversal would feel silly if it wasn’t so concerning. But Wylan was too caught up in the warmth of his touch and the happy flush of Jes pushing his soaked curls out of his eyes to think too far beyond by tonight we’ll both be well on our way to feeling better.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Jes stopped in his tracks midword, a beaming, conspiratorial smile taking over his face.

“And suddenly, I’m distracted— did you do that on purpose?”

“Never, darling.” He took the seat at Jesper’s side, his hand still scooped up between both of his dark, callused palms. “I just had to run down to see Kaz. I didn’t really think about the weather.”

“See Kaz, all the way across the city? I’m sure he loved the early morning call.” Jes chuckled. “What did you need him for?”

“Wanted it to stay a surprise. That man is a vault.”

“And what is my surprise? You’ve got me on the edge of my seat, merchling, and you’re dragging it out.”

He was dragging it out. What if it was an overstep? What if that longing look in his eye when he’d last written to his da had been all in Wylan’s head? Maybe, just because he missed him, didn’t mean he wanted to see him.

Wylan wouldn’t know what it was like to miss his father. Sometimes he was acutely out of his depth. Maybe he’d been wrong.

But, even with that enthused little twinkle in Jesper’s eye, Wylan could see the grey-tinged exhaustion in his handsome face. There was a heaviness the past few weeks had heaped on his shoulders.

They needed a break.

“How about a change of scenery?” He smiled hopefully. “I’ve booked us passage to Weddle tonight.”

For a moment, Jes just blinked at him. Wind howled outside, the downpour outside pounding against the windows. Wylan chewed his lip.

“You’ve just been talking so much about your da lately, and I can take the time to strengthen our trade with the Novyi Zem ambassador— we could use some sunshine, maybe. Get away and actually enjoy planning the engagement party, and—“

Jes cut off his rambling with a kiss that took the breath right out of his lungs. It was as if he was trying to wipe every last thought out of his brain.

It worked.

[make-me-imagine]

Congrats on 8.5k!!!! 🎈 🎉 🎈

Can I please request ships for Shadow & Bones and the vampire diaries?

I'm 5'6, auburn hair, more on the curvy side.Quieter for the most part but don't have an issue throwing a punch if need be. I'm a gryffindor and very much the caretaker position of any group.Dark sense of humor at times but always down to support someone if they need a shoulder and will fight for someone I care about.I'm always looking out for everyone else and playing peacemaker whenever I can.

I love reading any books with apocalyptic themes or witchy themes. I like writing also. I have one necklace I always wear and if I try going without it I feel naked. Constantly sleep deprived so I run on energy drinks, chocolate and sass most of the time. Controlled chaos is my specialty.

Pretty decent at baking, love full moons and thunderstorms. Playlist ranges from heavy rock to rap with pop and country sprinkled in. If I call someone a dork it is the highest term of endearment and I end up accidently calling most people honey or babe (thanks to being a southern girl that accent bleeds through with every word lol) firmly believe in the saying to be nice first because if you're an a-hole first no one believes the nice. I love thunderstorms and night time. If given a chance 10/10 I'm checking out the haunted places. At the moment I only have 2 tattoos but I have 5 more I want to get.

Hi! Thank you!

I hope you like them :) You didn't mention a gender preference, so I went with men, I hope that is okay.

Shadow and Bone:

I ship you with Matthias

Matthias admires you strength and caring/loyal attitude towards people. He doubted you at first, but never underestimated you again once he saw just how great and strong you were. Your sassy side amuses him and he often teases you just to bring it out.

You made him nervous at first because he was not used to being around women who were "like him". Your sense of humor and general demeanor confused him, but it grew on him fairly quickly to the point where he began to adore every part of you.

He loves whatever you bake/cook, and compliments your skills. Oh, and he melts when you call him any sort of pet-name (darling, honey, babe, etc).

Runner Up Ship: Kaz

------

TVD:

I ship you with Elijah

Elijah appreciates those who will fight for their family and friends, and admires this trait in you. He finds your mixture of southern charm, hidden fortitude and kind heart fascinating.

When you first met he was very confused and intrigued by you and the more he got to know you the more he fell for you.

He is protective of you, knowing you could stand up for yourself when needed, but he likes watching out for you. It's part of his love language.

I headcanon you are a witch in this universe (maybe even a heretic descendant?) So Elijah admires your power and abilities, and will protect you from those who may want to harm you.

Runner Up Ship: Alaric

[bundlesofchaos]

A droplet gently landed on Yana's nose, causing the hybrid to look up and realize just how far they have come already. There was probably so much to discover down here. They had seen some of the ruins back in their own world and knew that Knuckles had explored a lot of it on his own, but they were sure there was still secrets to share.

"Alone?" This person was alone too? There was a small look of sadness at Tempest. "...You know, I don't think I even know what that's like. To be alone a lot." They gently placed a hand on the walls, their eyes taking in the markings even if most of it was foreign.

"I grew up with my brothers. And my parents." There was a look of amusement and a chuckle. "I bet Kaz would've loved this. He started exploring all the ruins on Angel Island as soon as he was old enough. For awhile we did it together but I think this is more of his thing."

The other teenager was more of an adventurer. A treasure hunter. Like their parents had been. "But the Emerald didn't send him here. So I guess I'll do the adventuring for the both of us." With that, they let their hand drop. "Is there anything you'd like me to do? I'm stronger than I look. And I've been learning how to seek out Chaos energy."

"...you don't have to share any details you don't want to, Yana." Tempest had caught on to the unease in the teenager. While she was nearly incapable of those emotions, herself...she could guess them in others, decently enough. Or at least- she figured she could. It was hard to tell, when she spent so much time alone.

A small smile...she was sure she'd have been smiling, were the emotion not so dulled. Tempest cast a glance to Yana, brown eyes barely flicking with warmth.

"That's very kind of you." But she'd quieted as the hybrid spoke further- explaining a piece of their life. The future guardian...the echidna must have begun to thrive, again. She knew so little about the stalwart guardian, save what time the two had spent at Chris's house together,...and aboard the Blue Typhoon- but even then, she'd never gleaned much. He was...just that. The guardian. Eternally distancing himself from everyone. She could see where he'd not wish that life on his future tribesmen. It was a lonely path to follow.

A small huff of air escaped the raven-haired female. A laugh, though one could barely qualify it as such.

"The Emeralds tend to do precisely as they please.- Though I doubt the Master Emerald will be willing to explain itself to Knuckles. Something to look forward to, for better or for worse." The two were coming up on a flatter part...Tempest could make out the faint sound of droplets falling- the two must be pretty deep underground...the smell of fresh air had fallen away entirely, replaced by the damp darkness of the temple's depths.

"Still, it must have sent you here for a reason. Whether that be to study Chaos, as you mentioned, or otherwise...who knows." She flicked her hand- the fire shooting out from her palm to dance along the wall. Honestly, she wasn't sure she'd be able to write any of these words down, not when she had a teen to look after...maybe she could come back, later. "...the Emeralds of the Warriors..." Her voice was barely a murmur, deciphering the script for the briefest moment. "But I am more than welcome to having an additional set of eyes, down here. Too often, I'm alone in these ventures."

[natashxromanovf]

Confessions In The Moonlight

Jesper Fahey x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 891

WARNINGS: /

REQUESTED: {x} by @tadahoni, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: On a peaceful night, Jesper finally finds the courage to tell you how he really feels. 

A/N: thank you so much for requesting and being so kind while doing so! i really hope i did it justice, hope you like this <33 i forgot to put in the prompt tho, so i apologise for that :) gif credits @tennant

Jesper figured out how he really feels a while ago, but he never had the time to express it until tonight.

The realisation started one day when he walked in on you loudly laughing at one of many jokes Nina has told that day. He didn’t recognize it at the first second but he could swear it was the most angelic thing he has heard in all his life. When he connected the chuckles to a face, he was surprised how he could never noticed it before. Of course, you laughed in front of him many times yet he never paid much mind - but once he noticed it, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He started noticing other things too - like how beautiful you are or how your eyes light up when Kaz “compliments” you (well, compliments in his own, Kaz way). And if he’s honest, he would move the earth just so that he could never stop hearing your giggles.

“Aren’t you cold?” Jesper questions when he silently sits down beside you, though you heard him the second he stepped foot on the roof.

“Maybe a little. But I don't wanna leave yet,” you say without even looking at him. Your gaze is fixated on the stars lighting up the night sky, a small smile painted on your face. With a sigh, he removes the jacket hanging on his shoulders, rather putting it on yours instead. You thank him by placing your head on his shoulder, releasing a breath full of tiredness.

“Long day?” he asks, pressing a sweet kiss against the crown of your head. You close your eyes momentarily, taking in the comfort he provides simply by being there before thinking of an answer.

“Well, between climbing a couple dozen of buildings with Inej and shooting arrows for an hour straight, I’d say I deserve to be tired,” you joke, a quiet chuckle escaping Jesper’s lips. “I just needed to get away from all the chaos down there,” you mutter, getting serious for a minute or two.

“Yeah, I thought I’d find you here when you disappeared from the Club,” he murmurs, putting an arm around your waist protectively and pulling you even closer to him. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” he expresses, making you lift your head up and shoot him a curious glance. “It’s been on my mind for a while,” he starts, taking your hand in his. You look down at your interviewed fingers, slightly rubbing his hand with your thumb encouragingly.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me, Jes. I won’t judge,” you whisper, looking back up.

“I realised something. Something that I should have known for a long time but I just started to notice it a couple of weeks ago. And I should have told you the minute I knew what was going on but with back-to-back heists, there was just no time.”

“Jesper, you’re starting to scare me, what is it?” you ask, your tone glazed with concern.

“No, it’s nothing bad!” He quickly defends. “It’s just hard to tell, I guess. The thing I wanted to tell you is that… I like you, Y/N/N. Like a lot. And I don’t mean as a friend, I mean as in like you, like you,” he starts rambling, an adorable trait of his you’ve grown to love.

“Jes,” you cut him off, an amused smile on your face.

“Yes?” he questions, having a hard time establishing eye contact.

“I know.”

“You know?” he sounds very surprised.

“I know,” you reassure, cupping his face. “I’ve known what’s going on the second you started acting differently. To be honest, you’ve always been affectionate but in the past few weeks, that increased, like a lot. And I didn’t miss the glances you were throwing my way, or the way you seemed more and more concerned about my well-being with every heist,” you explain, finally getting him to look at you. “And I like you too, dummy. I always have,” you confess, a big grin growing on Jesper’s face.

“You do?”

“I do,” you nod, a giggle slipping past your lips. He lets out a sigh of relief, one he didn’t even realise he was holding.

“Well, I guess there’s only one thing left to do now,” he murmurs, inching a little closer.

“Oh yeah, and what is that?” you tease, moving closer.

“This,” he says, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and emotional and sweet, exactly how you imagined it would feel like.

When the need to breathe becomes too much you both pull away, your foreheads still leaning against one another’s. The first kiss wasn’t perfect like none are, but it was special because it was yours. And oh my god, you just kissed Jesper Fahey, your best friend since the day you joined the Dregs. That thought makes you let out the loveliest, most joyful laugh you have ever let slip past your lips and it’s like music to his ears.

“I could listen to that sound forever,” he comments, finally opening his eyes. You do the same, soon after leaning against his chest, hiding in the crook of his neck, still giggling from happiness. It’s safe to say that this was the best day of your life, even besides the tiredness resting in your chest.

taglist: @sheraayasher

i hope you enjoyed this! don't forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really help writers with motivation <33

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[confused-as-all-hell]

"i know we broke up, i know we don't talk anymore, but I still miss you"

@wesper-week i'm sincerely sorry for this chaos

Jesper Fahey's trade was humor.

His clothes were the colour of too much attention, his laugh limned in shimmering gold. He drew gazes and wistful stares like a lighthouse beacon called for drifting ships. The lines of his body were sharp, elegant, sprawling. When the corners of his mouth lifted in a grin, stars gleamed in his eyes.

He was so achingly beautiful, all tousled dark hair and broad shoulders and warm hands.

Girls and boys fell over themselves for one kiss, one little smile, one whispered word in their ear. How could they not?

Jesper was young and handsome and heady as a cup of evening wine, clever with his graceful fingers, wicked with his soft lips. His GPA was polished, his manners immaculate.

They hung on to his words, the cadence of them, the amused lilt that drenched every sentence.

Jesper had fallen in love with so many, men with rough laughs and kind smiles, women with curling hair and bright eyes. He had taken them over the world, to parks and monuments and cafes, kissed them in the shadow of history.

For every one of his lovers, he bought a ring.

Amethyst for the young lady who carried the scent of lavender.

Gold for the pretty girl whose lips tasted of joy.

Sapphire for the boy who kissed like a fucking god.

Ruby for the trickster woman who loved to laugh.

Copper for the handsome man who had a smile like late summer.

Jesper had cared for each of them in turn. He gifted flowers and jewelry and handwritten letters in his untidy scrawl. He had told them stupid jokes and held their hands and read to them in his unmade bed.

But one by one, they left him, and soon all that was left of their love were those glinting rings.

"Is there something wrong with me?" he whispered once, face shining with tears, head thrown back against the wall.

Nina rested her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around him awkwardly. "Of course not, darling."

He patted her cheek clumsily. "Then why does everyone keep leaving, Nina? Why does nobody stay?"

"Wylan—" she began, but shut her mouth instantly.

"Wylan is different."

And he was.

Beautiful, quiet, sweet Wylan Van Eck with his slender hands and paint-splattered face. He was everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, sketching the stars as they lay intertwined in bed, smiling over his cup of morning tea, dressed in his oversized shirts and plaid trousers.

His kisses were soft and tentative and tasted of tea leaves. His grins were slow and mischievous and bright as the damned sun. When he sprinted along the rim of a fountain, laughing and arms aloft, Jesper thought love might kill him.

He still dreamt about that day, Wylan leaping across the broad rim, his face upturned, sunlight brightening his hair to flame and gold. Wylan, paint smudged across his lower lip, hands stained with red acrylic. Wylan, pretty blue eyes bright with mirth, his panicked yelp as he nearly toppled sideways.

Wylan, Wylan, Wylan.

Sometimes, when Jesper was laying on the floor of someone else's bathroom, watching the ceiling spin and spin, he could still hear Wylan whispering, "And if I said I am yours, and there is no greater honor, what then Jesper?"

They had been so fucking happy, happier than Jesper deserved, all sticky orange juice kisses and skinny dipping in the ocean and opulent restaurants of ivory and gold.

And then Wylan had mentioned the gambling.

They had argued for days and weeks and then months, furious and bitter. Jesper used to live for the clink of coins and soft rush of the wheel and the elation that flooded into his eyes, ears, mouth, fingers. He loved the hum and chaos of the nightclubs, the frenzy of congratulations and drunken kisses and the retreat into those shadowed alcoves.

The scent of alcohol, the sounds of triumph, the press of hands on his body, the pleasure and ecstasy and joy.

But on their hundredth argument, tears were running down Wylan's face, distorting his freckles and widening those fucking blue eyes. He'd whispered he wouldn't stand for it, and Jesper had woken alone the next morning.

His bed was too empty, his kitchen was too quiet, the room where Wylan painted was too fucking much. All that remained was the hole in Jesper's heart and a sketch of the water fountain Wylan had drawn so lovingly, each detail of the scene preserved forever within charcoal. The ice cream parlor. The sunlight. Wylan, laughing and trying to keep his balance, eyes bright bright bright. Jesper, staring at Wylan as if he had never seen another quite so magical.

The memory of those eyes haunted him, every damn day.

He found himself writing essays on Wylan's long, copper lashes. His eyes, the blue of tranquil oceans, of the clear winter sky, of salvation. The glints of silver shining within, a quiet intelligence that so few had glimpsed. The way he would shyly glance away whenever Jesper grinned at him.

How many times had he stared into those eyes, while the two of them lay bare and exhausted among his own silk sheets?

How many times had he looked up after a kiss to find Wylan smiling back at him?

How many times had he nearly drowned within Wylan's gaze, steady and thoughtful and really fucking hot?

But slowly, agonizingly, bitterly, he grew used to the silence.

He stopped texting Wylan in the middle of the day, face damp with tears, hands shaking with misery.

He stopped accidently brewing a second cup of coffee at breakfast.

He stopped glancing to his left, searching for a glint of red hair in crowded spaces.

He stopped seeing Wylan when another was beneath him.

But sometimes Jesper wondered if anything could make him stop loving the boy with pretty blue eyes and a heart of gold.

And if sometimes he glimpsed Wylan in the halls, or at a nightclub, or sketching with those fucking charcoal pencils, he could wave. Smile. Pretend he wasn't going to take another home just to ease the day's pain.

'Why won't you go back to him?" Kaz asked once, barely glancing up from his phone.

"He doesn't want me," Jesper said quietly.

He raised his eyebrows as if in disbelief. "Jes, I have it on good authority that Wylan Van Eck hasn't dated a single soul after your breakup."

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody," Kaz said airily.

"Nina?"

"Nina."

Jesper attempted a loose smile, but it drifted aside easily as a gauzy veil twitching in the wind.

Wylan Van Eck, kind and brave and good.

Wylan, with his inquisitive eyes and thoughtful conversation.

Wylan, lonely and miserable because one stupid fucking boy had broken his heart.

He could barely stand it.

In some hidden chamber of his mind, he had locked away Wylan’s laughter, the tide of his amusement, inexplicably bright and wondrous. It felt like gazing at one of his softest paintings, a lush blend of ivory and blue and gold, like glimpsing something raw and beautiful and secret.

A burning star.

A miracle, spinning through the galaxy, leaving nothing but light in its wake.

A memory, and no more.

Wylan had once laughed so freely, snickering over an amusing quip, or stifling his smile when Jesper read to him late at night.

That sound of joy and delight. . . it was the brightest damn thing in the world.

And Jesper wanted to know that somewhere, in some other softly lit room with a man looking up at Wy like he was the sun, that laugh was sounding again.

He wanted to know that even if Wylan didn’t shine for him, he shone nevertheless.

The next morning dawned piercing and cold, a bright jewel in the crown of winter. Jesper chose his clothes with unusual care, knotting the laces of his boots twice, cleaning his dozens of rings before slipping them on.

Once he had hoped Wylan would give him the last of the collection—the wedding ring.

Now, as he finished with the last of them, he left his fourth finger bare, a final shrine to the ghosts of their past.

The cafe where he had asked, begged, pleaded for Wylan to meet him was nearly empty, but for a handful of people. His gaze lingered on a young woman with curling brown hair who might have been Nina in a hat, and a man with his leg propped up that was almost certainly Kaz.

Even though he made a mental note to strangle them later, the gesture eased the pressure within his chest ever so slightly.

And there was Wylan, a cup of tea clutched between his slender hands, huddled in a soft brown sweater. He was staring out of the window, those damned blue eyes vague and empty.

Jesper slid soundlessly into the booth, holding his breath as if he could force the longing from his lungs. “Hello, Wylan,” he said softly.

When he glanced up, something in his gaze shifted.

A blossoming flower.

An easing rainfall.

Something wonderful and exquisite and otherworldly.

Hope, hope, hope.

“Jes,” he returned with a little smile.

And Jesper leaned forwards. He couldn’t help it, not when Wylan was there before him and his lips were curved so slightly and his fingers were wrapped around his mug like—

“Wy,” he said, clearing his throat, “I wanted to talk.”

He straightened slightly, that quiet peace dissolving. “Had I not wanted to talk to you, I wouldn’t have answered your text.”

They stared at each other silently, waiting; it felt like sitting in the living room together, huddled over a game of chess, Jesper grinning as he slid the first pawn two squares up.

But he was not nearly so confident about his play now.

“I’ve been talking to Kaz,” he began awkwardly, the words clumsy in his mouth. “He told me you haven’t been seeing anyone.”

“And I’ve been speaking with Inej,” returned Wylan, utterly refined and elegant in his simplicity. “She tells me you’ve been seeing everyone.”

Jesper felt like a child again, clutching a rifle in his inexperienced hands, brows drawn together in concentration as he replayed his mother’s instruction in his mind. His father was playing target again, brown eyes gentle with encouragement. He didn’t know what to do, he was going to shoot his father, he was going to harm harm harm.

The words in his hands, his throat, were constricted and awful and stumbling. He didn’t know how to shoot without hurting anyone he loved.

Wylan was still gazing at him, blue eyes dark, for the first time in memory. “Jes,” he said, “was I so easy to forget?”

“Forget?” Jesper croaked. “Like a stupid song or piece of information on the study guide? Like you didn’t shine brighter than the damned sun? Like there were days when I didn’t wish to capture the stars and give them to you?”

There was a strange, crackling rush in Jesper’s ears, as if the ocean had swelled too high and now he was drowning, drowning, drowned.

If Wylan wanted him back, if Wylan loved him still—

He could wake up every morning with soft limbs tangled in his own. He could kiss Wylan again, taste tea and sugar cookies and mint. He could marry him, live out a life with him, die on the bed beside his own, fingers interlocked tight.

The future was there, tangled and messy and uncertain, but there all the same.

But Wylan was shifting in his seat, almost anxiously. “Jes,” he said softly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

His eyes, his lovely blue eyes, were beginning to shine. “I know that look,” he said, almost bitterly. “I know that look damn well.”

Jesper’s giddy excitement was beginning to wither, and he clung to it desperately, a final shield against the darkness. “What look?”

Wylan reached out, fingertips stained blue with paint, hands still slim and delicate, a work of art. “If you think I want to… to get back together, I don’t. You and I, it was so much fun, and sometimes I wonder if everything was more than a college romance.”

He retracted his shaking hands, and ran them through his copper hair. “I wonder if another Jesper, who loved himself as much as his friends love him, and another Wylan, who was just a little bit of a better boyfriend, might have had their future together.”

Jesper could only stare

Wylan whispered, “Don’t you see it, Jes? We were stupid fucking collage kids who fell in love, but it was never supposed to carry on. I told you, that night in the club, I just wanted sex.”

He remembered.

Just sex, do you understand? No more, Jes.

But then, I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you just once.

And it kept going, spiraling, until one morning they were laying in bed and Wylan was wearing Jesper’s shirt, and Jesper was stroking Wylan’s hair, and it was much more than just sex.

One date, Wy. Give me a chance.

I love you, I love you, I love you, dumbass.

I want you to move in with me. I want you in my bed, my kitchen, my clothes. I want to see you tired and angry and miserable and I want to tell you you’re still the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

Jesper had imagined their wedding, every so often, a blazing pillar of hope lighting the path to the future. He had dreamt tailored suits and blue eyes and the final ring. He had planned every detail of his speech, his vows, his oath to live and die with Wylan Van Eck.

“Just sex,” he said at last. “We fucked it up, didn’t we, Wy?”

Wylan extended his hand once more. “I loved you, Jes, I won’t pretend. But I’m with someone else now, and I care for him, and I promised I would sort out the ghosts of my past.”

Jesper slid his palm over his, reveling in the soft skin, the gentle touch he would never feel again. “You’re happy?” he said softly. “He makes you laugh?”

He smiled, a secret, lovely smile. “Yeah. Yeah, he makes me laugh.”

And the sudden truth of it, the fact Wylan was someone else’s now, and he was laughing in another’s arms, hit Jesper. It sent ice through his veins, his mind, the final shattered shard of his heart, tearing through memories.

Wylan, brave and wonderful, laying on his bed. His hands were aloft, describing a particularly clear night sky, the shapes he traced in the stars. He had named one for Jesper, and he said it was shaped like love.

Jesper, doubled up in laughter as he flipped a pancake, listening to yet another one of Wylan’s rambling stories. He never tired of them. Those recollections, the happy lilt to his voice, the giddy, “There’s more, though!” were treasured beyond gold.

Wylan, working on some assignment or another, sprawled on the grass of a dewy meadow. His head was pillowed on Jesper’s hoodie as he wrote, filling the page with his elegant script. Every so often, he would glance over and point out a butterfly or shaped cloud with a smile.

Jesper, watching as Wylan leapt across the fountain. His copper head was upturned, sunlight streaming down onto the angles of his face, joy etched in his brilliant grin. He looked like a god for that one moment, frozen forever in a snapshot of peace.

“I will love you if the entire fucking world tells me not to,” Jesper had whispered once. “I will love you if the entire fucking world tells me to. I will love you, because I am yours, and there has never been such an honor.”

When the years whiled past, when the bone-deep sorrow lightened at last, did Jesper still love him?

That was the question he asked himself every morning over a cup of bitter coffee.

Twenty-four years old, and Jesper still loved him.

Thirty-one years old, and Jesper still loved him.

Forty-five years old, and Jesper still loved him.

Fifty-seven years old, and Jesper still loved him.

An old man, dying in his bed, and the laugh ringing through his head belonged to a boy with pretty blue eyes and a heart of gold.

A dead man, and Jesper loved him from the grave.

Love bowed to no one, and least of all death.

A collage romance was theirs, but their love was not that of two foolish young men, out for a kiss and in for a good fuck. It was carefree, happy, bright as the sun. It was etched in the stars, and it was doomed from the start.

Love bowed to no one, but perhaps it inclined its head towards Jesper Fahey and Wylan Van Eck.

[wilgentak]

bound by water

i've been imagining this fic for a month each night before i fell asleep & figured it was time to write it down........ the context is that inej is part of the dregs (again), after the events of the books or tv series, and she and kaz have grown closer to each other. inej’s pov because i truly adore her & writing this from her pov was kind of healing.

fandom: six of crows series - leigh bardugo & shadow and bone (tv series) type: birthday fic with tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff and some literal & figurative steaminess pairing: inej ghafa x kaz brekker pov: inej's word count: 3,457 on ao3 as well

summary: it’s inej's birthday and kaz has a surprise for her.

When Inej returns to the Slat after shadowing a sketchy mercher’s movements that day, she finds Nina and Jesper leaning against one of the walls in the entryway. They glance at her, each other, and back to her, grinning from ear to ear. Or smirking, really.

Inej squints her eyes at them, edging closer. Separately, Jesper or Nina scheming cannot be trusted. Together? The trail of chaos they’d leave behind would reach Fjerda.

“Well?” Inej raises her eyebrows, playing along with their game. “What is it?”

Nina loses the smirking contest first. She breaks out in a short laugh, setting off a warm feeling in Inej’s chest. Nina straightens her face, cheeks rosy from amusement. “Inej,” she speaks authoritatively, as if this is a legal matter. “We have a message for you.”

Jesper nods solemnly, mirroring Nina’s attitude. He crosses his arms before his lime green waistcoat. “A message from Kaz to be precise.”

Inej’s heart skips a beat. Nina’s grin is back, raising her eyebrows knowingly to Jesper. Inej hasn’t seen Kaz yet today. She was planning to meet him in his attic when she arrived at the Slat, as she did most evenings. To report back on the secrets, clues, scandals she collected that day. And, when business had been discussed and she wanted to, which was often, to linger. Kaz let her.

They would play a game of chess, catching glances at each other, which was how Inej discovered that Kaz has a scheming face specifically for chess. Or Inej would feed walnuts to the crows in the large windowsill as Kaz watched. Or they would read; Kaz poetry, Inej the adventures of her heroes, the silence between them only disturbed by the turning of crisp pages. Inej loves this time with him. It’s a ritual they grew into over the last months. A ritual that Inej would love to cultivate today. It’s her birthday, after all.

This morning she stumbled into a kitchen filled with the scent that can calm any storm. Waffles. She found her family cramped around the one dark wooden table that was stashed there. Nina, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias. She could have sworn their faces were framed with halo’s, but maybe that was just the morning light through the hazy window. They shared breakfast and Inej started her day with a belly full of butter, syrup and laughter.

Kaz hadn’t been there, to her disappointment, but she told herself he had his reasons. Maybe the message he gave to Nina and Jesper shed light on that.

If they are ever going to share it with her. These two smirking darlings are enjoying themselves so much. But she knows their secret won’t last much longer. After all, it’s Inej they’re talking to.

“Kaz would be disappointed if you didn’t deliver that message.” Inej shifts her gaze between Nina and Jesper, feeling a grin tuck at her lips. “So shoot, if you want to spare yourself from a piercing gaze. Or worse.”

“Anything for you, birthday girl,” Jesper grins. “He’s waiting for you in his attic.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” Inej tells them, already standing, turned to go up the stairs.

 “Not as much as you will!” Nina yells after her. Inej can’t stop the smile spreading on her face.

Her feet are feathers, always, as she travels up the two flights of rickety stairs. Her heart thumps steadily in her chest. There was a time she didn’t let it, a time she railed herself in. Lately she’s trying to welcome the sensation, to invite it to her body and allow it to fill her up. It feels strange, exciting. Like revealing a secret room, the discovery of a vacant space. That you can use it. That you’re allowed to fill that space.

Kaz is sitting behind his desk when Inej enters after knocking, his nose in stacks of documents, linen sleeves rolled up. Through the open window the sun streaks Kaz’s attic in golden, the last rays of the day. His dark leather gloves shine on the side of his desk. Yes, Ketterdam is so moist that it seeps into your skin, but even this city cannot hide from the force of summer and how it stretches the evenings. The turmoil from the city feels far away from here. Instead, Kaz’s attic is filled with something else… a fragrance delicate and fresh.

Kaz looks up from his desk, meets her eye. “Hello, Inej.”

She offers a smile. “Hello, Kaz.”

She walks up to him. Leans on the desk to his left, resting her hands behind her and crossing her ankles. She locks eyes with him. “Nina and Jesper were insufferably mischievous downstairs.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his high-backed chair. Puts down the letter he was reading, resting his hands close to hers. “Nothing new there.”

Inej uncrosses her ankles. Her thigh brushes the hair on his forearm. He holds her gaze.

It’s what they’ve been doing recently: folding the space between them, stretching their touches. Slowly learning, showing what they enjoy. Often, it’s how Inej wants to touch him, reclaiming her relationship with touch, after years of being trained to endure, not initiate. Letting Kaz touch her is more challenging, since she has to catch her body before it slips away, rejecting the habit to dissociate. It’s how Kaz wants to be touched by her, taking pleasure in how her touch can make him feel safe, can be a buoy instead of towering waves. Him touching her, bare skin, is difficult even on good days, but covering his skin before reaching out to her grounds him.

Kaz shoves his chair back and stands up. “I have something for you.”

Inej cannot hide the surprise on her face.

Kaz grabs his cane and crosses the office to open the door to his bedroom. Inej breathes in the honey that reaches her, stronger now. He looks over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

She’s behind him in an instant. She was only ever able to catch glances at the space they’re entering, never having stepped foot in it before. As a Dreg, she learned to scan any room she enters, instinctively, swiftly. But she’s not taking in the entirety of this private room now. No, her eyes are directly drawn to the white tub in the corner.

Steam rises from the water surface that is not covered by foam or orange and red flower petals, filling the room with a heavenly haze. Candles are lit on top of the small wooden table beside it, Kaz’s drawer, at the back of the tub. A fragrance pure and light fills her senses. She’s speechless.

“Happy birthday, Inej.”

Inej pulls her gaze away from the wonder that is this steamy tub to turn to Kaz. He’s clasping his cane in front of him, resting both hands on the metal crow’s head. He holds her gaze, steadily, but she notices something there that’s rare. She doesn’t want to blink when he’s letting her see it.

“It’s tulip. Nina assisted.”

Inej’s heart swells even more. How beautifully unexpected that he decided to ask for help.

“Kaz, this is wonderful.” She’s full-on grinning now.

His doubt disappears and his face lights up. He’s so pretty. He nods to the chair by the tub. “Nina picked out some clothes from your room to change into when you’re done bathing.”

Inej takes the smallest step closer to him.

“I’ll be in my office. But I won’t disturb you, so please enjoy for as long as you want to.”

She looks up into his eyes as she rests her fingertips, fingers, then palm on his wrist. “Thank you.”

His lips quirk upwards. Then he turns, closes the door behind him. She listens as the thumps of his cane fall silent as he repositions himself behind his desk. And she’s alone.

Inej lets her gaze circle the room. The tub stands under a slanted roof that holds a square window cracked open. The clouds have turned to a shade of lilac and rose. A bed is placed to the only straight wall in the room, accompanied by a side table. His washbasin is next to his dresser, a blurry mirror above it. These are Kaz’s private quarters and he’s trusting her with it.

Who knew Kaz had something like this up his sleeve. She imagines the look on Nina’s face when Kaz asked for help. She must have been intolerably delighted. Inej chuckles.

She breathes in the subtle scent that has filled the room. Inej can’t wait to dip her tired feet into the tub. Let the warmth take her in. Cover herself with velvet petals. Watch as the clouds turn from pastels to dark shades.

Her fingertips slide across the sheaths of her knives, where she releases each one, carefully positioning them on top of Kaz’s drawer. He has allowed himself to be vulnerable to prepare this for her, and gratefulness washes over her. As her fingers reach up to undo the first clasp of her vest, waves swirl low in her belly. Something new emerges, bubbling up to the surface. Her fingers pause in midair. She wants to reciprocate, meet him halfway.

Her knife sheaths already empty, she turns to open the crooked door to Kaz’s office. She keeps one hand on the rough doorframe as she watches how he looks up from his desk, surprised.

She inhales deeply, steadying herself. It’s something she has done before, but suggesting it would be a first. Her wanting to is a first. And this is Kaz she’s talking to. How will he react?

“Do you want to watch as I undress?” she asks, recognizing the nervous rhythm of her heart in her ears.

Inej can see the subtlest rise of his eyebrows, widening of his eyes. She refuses to break eye contact. He needs to know that she doesn’t want this because she believes he wants her to take off her clothes. She wants this because she’s trying to change how her body remembers showing her skin to men. “I want you to.”

She studies his face. His look is stern, it is almost always. She’s trained in his features: the tiniest twitch of his eyebrows, the clenching of his jaw, when and how long he breaks eye contact. But right now, he shows no movements she can decipher. She’s trained in patience as well, but this moment of silence rattles at her foundations.

The chair scrapes the old wooden floor as Kaz stands up. “Yes,” he replies simply.

The voice in her head finishes: the deal is the deal. “Okay,” she nods.

Kaz follows her. For a moment they stand there, in his bedroom. Inej knows it’s Kaz who stands next to her, she has rescued him again and again, he has rescued her again and again. There’s no one she’d rather do this with than him, no one she trusts more. But she has to keep her head straight or she won’t be able to look him in the eye. Let’s take this step by step.

She walks over to the tub, halts next to the chair. “You can sit wherever you want,” she tells him. But there’s not many options besides the chair that’s already used by her clothes and towel. In fact, there’s only one.

The frame creaks softly as Kaz sits down on his bedsheets and rests his cane beside him. Inej could touch his knees in barely three steps. He looks up at her. She recognises this position when she’s perched in his window, leaning or sitting on his desk while he’s working there. She’s used to watching from above as the Wraith as well. It soothes her nerves, just a bit.

Not enough to hold his gaze. But enough to slowly reach her hands to her chest and undo the first clasp of her vest. The muscles in her upper back and shoulders stiffen as she can feel herself slipping into a performance. She sees herself standing there, trembling fingers at the first hook of her clothes. She takes a shaky breath, closing her eyes. Using her senses to return to her body. She wriggles her toes in her dearest slippers. Outside the window she can hear her beloved crows, inside distantly the rickety stairs of the Slat. The floral fragrance is calming. She can stop any moment she wants to, she knows that. But she doesn’t want to.

She’s Inej Ghafa and with the release of a breath, she shakes the skin of a lynx from her body.

Kaz is there when she opens her eyes, the worry between his dark brows fades when he sees her expression. Making way for the tiniest arch of one of his eyebrows. It’s an invitation. She accepts.

Carefully she loosens the clasps on her vest. The violet fabric of her tunic shifts underneath. She lets her vest slide down behind her body, over her upper arms, elbows and catches it in her hand as it falls over her wrists. She hangs it on the back of the chair.

Next are the fingerless gloves that cover her entire forearms. Finger for finger, she slips them off. Perching on the edge of the chair, she takes of her slippers, storing them beneath the chair. The wooden floor is cool under her feet. A welcome sensation, because she’s feeling hot. Hot under Kaz’s gaze, who’s giving her his full attention.

She’s well aware of the flush that must have grown on her cheeks. They’ve stripped in front of each other during jobs countlessly, taking on new identities in the dim alleys of Ketterdam. This is different entirely. No hiding in plain sight, and it’s how she wants it to be. The heat in her body near Kaz is nothing new. She wants to cherish it, instead of trying to push it away. Kaz’s gaze makes the sensation grow only stronger.

She catches the clenching of his jaw. Maybe she’s not the only one growing flustered.

Right below her neck, Inej loosens the ties of her tunic. She crosses her arms over the thin, swift material and slowly stretches her arms on top of her head, taking the fabric with her. She folds the purple blouse in her bare arms. There’s not many walls left now. And she’s beginning to enjoy it. With every layer of clothing, armour, removed, she discovers newfound courage, lightness. Yes, outside this protection, her armour, is what keeps her safe, dangerous. In here, she can feel strong even with her shields lowered.

Her top is next. She stretches out her arms, once again, and feels the evening air against her belly. The chill feels wonderful. Perching on the chair, she slides down the stretchy fabric of her trousers to pull them off. Her hands take the braid behind her back and slide between the strands. Kaz’s gaze is fixated on her fingers gliding up and down, unravelling the coils. She frees her hair completely, and the comforting weight drapes behind her body. Now, facing Kaz once more, she stands before him in nothing but her underwear, hair down, and locks eyes with him, embracing the raw vulnerability of this moment.

His gaze is fixed on her face. His eyes deep and vast, his brows slightly furrowed. She knows this look. She trembles lightly, the waves in her low belly swelling. She wants more of what he’s showing her.

“Kaz,” she asks, voice low, “will you take my bra off?”

His answer is the creaking of the bedframe as he stands up and closes the distance between them. He stands before her, fully clothed, and so close, she can see the pink on his cheeks, his dilated pupils. His breath is high and shallow, just like hers. Her arms are covered in goosebumps.

Slowly, Kaz lifts his fingers. Inej holds her breath. He touches the dark fabric on her ribs, gently lets his hands embrace the sides of her body. She feels the weight of his hands as she lets out her breath. The heat of his touch sets her skin aflame. He’s burning her. Or she’s burning up.

She reaches her fingers upwards, inviting him to take the flexible band and slide it upwards. His cool fingernails brush her skin as he curls them under the fabric and shifts it higher and higher until it catches all her hair, releasing it moments later when Kaz slides the garment from her wrists. Her hair cascades down, enveloping her in a midnight waterfall.

His gaze is unwavering, endless, fixed on her eyes. Inej wants it everywhere.

“You can look,” she breathes. “If you want.”

He does. She watches the length of his dark eyelashes as he traces his gaze downwards, deliberately, languid. Lips parted, rosy flush on his cheeks growing. She feels the heat radiate from her body, between her thighs, the tips of her ears. Nerves mixed with growing confidence.

Slowly, through lowered lashes, Kaz locks his eyes with hers again. He raises his fingers and slides them under a strand of her hair between her shoulder and the column of her neck. Inej watches closely as he lifts it up, gliding down its length, patiently, until, finally, he gently presses his lips to her hair.

Her breath hitches in her chest.

His lips still hovering above her hair, Kaz meets her eye. “You’re beautiful, Inej,” he whispers.

Oh, Saints.

Inej trembles before him. Her tides rise with every breath, washing over her, building and building. She can’t stop staring at his lips, his fingers, his eyes. His lips, his fingers, his eyes. He called her beautiful, but how can she ever express how he looks to her this moment? He’s boundless.

Inej draws closer. Her hair slips through his fingers. She would never. She takes his hand, dextrous, dependable, weaving her fingers through his, letting them rest at their sides. Closer. Until the blissful press of their bodies together. It makes her dizzy. She feels the rising and fall of his chest, their breathing synching into the same heavy rhythm. His lips tender and flushed. His eyes deep mahogany. She feels a sense of safety and security with him that’s unparalleled.

She reaches her free hand to his face, cupping his rough cheek in her palm. Kaz closes his eyes and offers her the slightest sigh as he presses himself to her touch. The wonderful fan of his eyelashes. She’s so close, she can count them. She wants him so much, she’s barely standing.

“Kaz,” Inej breathes. His eyes open to meet hers, scanning her features. “I want to kiss you.”

She remembers the first time she pressed her lips to his. Softly, exploratory. It was after an evening of celebrating a victory for the Dregs with her family. An evening of her knee to Kaz’s underneath the table, bathing in the warm pressure of his hand on her thigh. Afterwards, she followed him up the stairs. In his attic the air thickened, and they chatted, laughed, as they drew closer. When Inej said she would retreat to her room to rest, Kaz whispered her name, lowering his face. All Inej could do was brush his nose with hers, and fold her lips between his. It had made her feel delirious.  

Similar to how she’s feeling right now. Drunk on his gaze, scent, fingertips between hers. The maroon blossoms further on her cheeks. Kaz parts his lips.

“Please.” His voice a low rasp.

Bubbles popping in her belly, she reaches up and captures his sweet lips in a kiss. Kaz releases his hand from hers and presses both to the small curve of her naked back, curling into her hair once again, bringing her even closer. The heat rises to her head, and she sinks into his touch as he deepens the kiss. She slides her fingers over his cheek, into his hair, tangled. He presses his fingers into the strong muscles of her back. She feels him everywhere.

Inej places a hand on his chest when they separate. Close, still so close. His touch lingers on her lips. She can feel his delightfully heavy breath on her cheek. He rests his forehead against hers. Calm waves cradle her ship. An eternity passes.

“Perhaps I should get some more hot water.”

Inej opens her eyes to catch the twinkle in his eyes. She grins back. This devotion could keep her afloat forever. Kaz’s touch stays hot. The bath, inevitably, does not.

“Perhaps,” Inej repeats.

Slowly, she turns to dip her fingers in the floral tub, brushing the velvet petals. She glances over her shoulder, eyebrow raised, as she asks, “You like it hot?”

Kaz grins, his eyes devilish. Inej already knows the answer to that.

[laurore-stormwitch]

of almost failed heists and romantic advice

For the @grishaversebigbang mini bang! First time writing the crows, it’s been a challenge. I had the incredible and emotional honor to see some beautiful art made for this fic by @streckenweise-okay [here] , @j-wirth [here], @davonysus [here]. You are all talented and amazing <3  Summary: an easy undercover job becomes not only a chance to revisit some old friendships with Nina back in town, but also the perfect occasion for a romantic intervention and some dating advice for our favorite Bastard of the Barrel.

ao3 link

Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, a forgotten Rietveld. His figure hid itself in the many names he had been called, in the many tales of sorrow he had inflicted. He did not need a reason, nor to rob or brake, nor to wreak havoc on the filthy streets of Ketterdam. Swift as the sky-splitting dive of a crow on his prey. You would feel him coming, in the tense silence shattered by the rhythmic beating of a raptor-headed cane on bricks. Kaz Brekker, who did not need a reason, or concealed the ones who mattered. The same Kaz Brekker, however, who did not have a valid reason for choosing to bring the three biggest headaches of his life along with him on this wretched job. A sharpshooter with an absurd taste in fashion, a Grisha witch as annoying as his broken leg and a wayward merchant’s son he had spent way too much time babysitting. 

A strike of genius on his part. On top of that, he had chosen an undercover job, like they had the slightest ability not be noticed. Except for Nina; that girl blended everywhere like whisky. She was now strolling back to them with an excited gleam in her eyes, sipping on a glass of wine. She giggled happily. “Relax, Kaz. It’s a party.” 

He cut her a glare from the corner in which he was standing, stiff and broody. 

“Where the hell are the two lovebirds?” 

“At the buffet. Do you know they have a chocolate fountain?”

“If it doesn’t drop gold”, Nina arched a brow at him, “I am fairly sure I don’t care for it.”

They were interrupted by the brilliant flash of color of Jesper’s suit and his brazen laugh. He had an arm thrown around Wylan’s shoulder; the merchling’s  cheeks were flushed and his hair ruffled. He seemed slightly uncomfortable or about to throw up. For all the kruges, how much had Jesper let him drink? At least they did not have a particularly difficult role to play. Nina planted a kiss on Wylan’s cheek.

“This is so fun!”, she exclaimed, delighted by the situation. Kaz glared at her again.

“A job it’s not supposed to be fun.”

“Take your brooding mood out the window, Brekker”, Nina waved a dismissive hand at him. “What would a job be without fun?”

“Terribly dull”, Jesper winked.

“Annoyingly painful”, offered Wylan with a hiccup. They turned to Kaz. 

“Adequately profitable.”

His friends cast their eyes heavenward. Jesper snatched other glasses , pretending not to see Kaz’s threatening look. The party was grand, held in the home of a Council’s member from whom they were supposed to steal some documents held in a safe in his study. The job was easy to say the least, so when they had learned that Nina was in town, she had tagged along. Kaz wanted to wack himself on the head with his cane for this wretched idea; apparently, they had taken this as an excuse to party and reminisce old times more than an occasion to actually help Kaz make some money. Nina surveyed the room. 

“I wish Inej was here”, she whined. Kaz had never been one to pray, so it was not surprised when the Saints ignored his pledge to make Nina drop the argument. Instad, she turned to him with a smug smirk. 

“How is it going between the two of you?”

Kaz tapped his cane on the floor, avoiding the heartrender’s eyes. Maybe she would shut up if he ignored her. Was he not radiating a general air of murderousness and danger, enough to convince his nosy friend to leave him be? Well, not enough. It just made her do something even worse and refer to the other two headaches.

“Kaz is a hopeless cause.”

“He’s not asked her out yet? Not even a romantic snack in between threatening people and skewering them with knives?”

Jesper shrugged his shoulder, nudging Wylan closer. “We offered to do it for him”, he noted.

“You did”, Wylan peered at thim. “I want to keep my head on my neck.”

“Why hasn’t he?”, asked Nina, considering Kaz, still ignoring them.

“I don’t think he’s familiar with the concept of asking someone out. Or even asking someone for anything, mainly bossing people around.”

Kaz adjusted his tie. “I’m standing right beside you.”

“It’s not hard, Kaz. Just buy some flowers and smile.”

Jesper laughed at Nina’s idiotic advice. Were they actually trying to get assassinated right now? Another thought paved the way in his mind. Was it an idiotic advice, though? He could admit that anything not involving schemes or robbery was not an area of expertise for him. And he had been meaning to do something...nice?

“You’re asking Dirtyhands to smile?”, asked Jesper. Nina huffed.

“Can it be that hard?”

“You’ll see. Kaz, smile at me.” 

Kaz had two roads in front of him: for some reason, he chose the insane one and indulged Jesper, curling his lips upward. An uncomfortable silence dawned over them. 

“All the Saints and their suffering”, Nina exclaimed.

“Is he about to murder someone?”, Wylan asked. Nina burst out laughing.

“That is your i-am-asking-you-out smile?”

“It’s terrifying”, considered the merchling.

“Positively daunting”, his boyfriend confirmed.

“For the love of Inej’s Saints drop the smile. Stick with the flowers.” She eyed him from upside down, critical. “And fix that dreadful hair.”

Now the choice laid between leaving them all here or trying to find a way to finish this wretched job. Since the second option included a mouthful reward, he went with it. He eyed the owner descending the stairs with his guards. That was their cue. 

“You all know what to do.”

To their credit, they all snapped to attention when he called them. Nina strode behind the owner, fluffing her hair, while the three of them disappeared silently toward the upper floor. Silently. As silently as they could, Wylan being half drunk and Jesper being...well, Jesper. What one does for some kruge, thought sourly Kaz. He did glance at his reflection in the mirror, trying a half smile as they ascended the stairs. But no one needed to know that. 

***

The safe had scarcely even been fun to crack. Kaz slipped the document in his jacket, scanning the study. Who knows what one could find that people left unguarded. Jesper and Wylan were outside, keeping control on the stairs. The situation seemed under control, so he did have some spare time to search for something precious. He approached a drawer, flicked a pin in the keylock and - 

BOOM

A loud explosion resonated on the floor, rattling the walls. Definitely not a good sign. And definitely a sign that his henchmen raised some hell. Kaz sprinted out, only to find an absolute mayhem had been unleashed, and at the centre of this chaos, sure enough, stood his two royally idiotic friends, covered in dirt and pieces of furniture, gazing at each other with utter shock on their faces like they hadn’t just made a smoke bomb explode. The one that was supposed to be an emergency to cover their escape and was now invading the house. 

“What the hell did you do?!”

Screams rose below them; Jesper scratched some dust from his jacket and rolled his revolvers out, grinning in Wylan’s direction, apparently unfazed by how much they had just screwed up. 

“Wylan got carried away”, he shrugged his shoulders. Wylan flushed violently, jaw dropped in his boyfriend’s direction.

“You pushed me against a wall! I told you I had the smoke bomb in my pocket!”

“Were they making out again on the job?”, Nina rushed in their direction, her gorgeous face lit up with amusement as she struck down one of the guards running up the stairs with a flick of her wrist, a dart bone flying out of her cuff. 

“It’s Jesper’s fault! He’s always trying to...to…”, Jesper arched a brow at Wylan. 

“Yes?”

“Entice me!”

Kaz blew out an exasperated grunt, pushing them toward the background door. “Move!”, he seethed, running to work the lock. Dirtyhands getting killed on a saints forsaken robbery, perfect irony. With a quick look, he realized the damn lock had been reinforced with Fabrikator’s craft. He signaled Jesper, who practically squealed with amusement. 

“Do I get to use my powers?” The hard glare he earned from Kaz seemed to be enough for him to get on with his work. Nina turned, shooting other dart bones toward the stairs. Quick steps and screams were echoing through the buildings, and smoke was clearing. “You might wanna hurry up, Jes!”, she shouted over her shoulder. 

“We might have a problem”, the sharpshooter mumbled, as the lock literally melted on itself, effectively sealing the door closed. “I’m still getting the hold on - “

He was interrupted by another deafening explosion, as Wylan threw another device which detonated on the wooden stairs shredding them into pieces. 

“Do you all have to keep destroying our ways out?!”

“I’m sorry!”, screamed Wylan over the echoing thrum of the bomb, his gaze shifting to a window that opened up to the roof. 

“Do not even think about it”, Kaz pointed his cane at him. 

“Either we take a page from Inej’s book or we get arrested, what do you choose?”, Nina asked grudgingly, starting to climb on a cupboard. Saints, he was going to kill them all. Jesper and Wylan followed suit, making their way out on the roof and helping Kaz up. He shot a murderous look at Nina, who was eyeing him as he not at all gracefully moved up and shut the window closed behind him, swearing to every known Saints in Kerch.

“Since you are so bad at this, you should try to compliment Inej about it and maybe she’ll teach you something.” 

“Start fleeing before I catch you, Zenik.”

Shots began firing from below them, grazing Kaz’s arm. Nina erupted in a grin. 

“Time to run, Brekker.”

And so they did. Extremely far from how Inej would have done it. Loudly, stumbling throughout Ketterdam’s rooftops, helping each other - as much as he hated to admit it, mostly Kaz - on the slippery tiles and the narrow eaves. Ketterdam buildings left little space to breathe, being conveniently close that they could jump from one to the other. Kaz lost track of time, though his bad leg felt like they’ve been running for hours. Jesper stopped abruptly as they neared the docks, crunching on his knees and howling a breathless laugh. 

“That was fun.”

Nina giggled, slouching on the rooftop they had stopped on. “Ease up boys, we lost them ages ago”, she exhaled, closing her eyes toward the moonlight and leaning back. Kaz tentatively seated himself behind her, stretching his leg. 

“If this easy job ends up with me not being able to walk, vengeance will be coming.” 

Wylan and Jesper slumped down on his side, ignoring his dreadful look. Wylan peered at Kaz with a sly smile. 

“Jesper has stolen something fit to celebrate a successful heist.” 

The sharpshooter grinned, pulling out a bottle of cherry wine from nowhere and uncorking it with a whistle of joy. He passed it around as their cheerful chatter filled the night’s quiet. They were crazy. Crazy, reckless, and still idiots. Yet, Kaz couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his ragtag band of misfits. So he did not protest when Jesper handed him the wine, and he even threw a crooked half smile at him. The night began to wear off with every sip.

“So”, started Jesper at some point, snatching the bottle from him, “about our advice?”

It had to be the wine for Kaz to answer this. “I guess I can try it.”

Wylan huffed and gave him a knowing look.  “Just be yourself, Kaz. Inej likes you like that.”

“Ever the romantic”, Jesper winked at him, making him flush. Again. 

“Aside from that”, Nina propped herself up, turning to him, her lips quirked and her face lit up with happiness, cheeks red from the wine. “I still suggest the flowers. You know her favourites. And you might want to get ahead with those, Brekker'', she added, pointing her finger toward the horizon; over Ketterdam’s rooftops, the moonlight shone on the silent streets, reflecting on the waves that hit the docks. There, against the sky lit up by stars, stood the profile of a sharp ship, a flag Kaz knew by heart flying over the mast, its edges turning his stomach upside down as it entered the harbour. 

“Our Wraith is coming home.”