[REDACTED]

[avendell]

Kaz and Inej

[k4dewashere]

Can you please write something formula 1 au with Mydei🥹

NO, YOU AINT GOT NO MRS.

(but you got a sports car!)

Competitive spirits crash, but what rises from the debris isn’t what you'd expect.

⟡ Pairing : Formula driver!Mydei x nb!reader

⟡ tags : fluff, name something hotter than a man apologizing, short & sweet, well after some slight angst, beta read, Mydei is THE greenflag, requested,

⟡ Warnings ! : graphic description of car crashes, injury, slight anxiety, description of burns, perhaps some medical malpractice and safety negligence, low-key me hating on men the whole way through

⟡ Wc ! : 1.3k words

⟡ image credits : @ lol_leia on instagram

Kade's note : My sister is obsessed with Formula 1 so she was my main referee, I wasnt sure what trope you wanted so I kinda freestyled it. Loosely inspired from the man who walked out of the fire caused by a crash back in 2020, enjoy!

“Two laps remaining—”

You grunt at your race engineer’s voice, the adrenaline dances on your fingers as you grip the wheel tighter, making a turn that was much too sharp for anyone's liking.

You’re in second place, again, while stupid Mydeimos leads a few hundred meters before you. The crowd cheers all around you, spectating your ongoing losing streak. Frustration crawls up your spine, pressing your foot harder on the gas. Sweat gathers on your forehead, you’re so close, so fucking close, heat crawls up your gut as you see the distance between you and Mydeimos growing smaller and smaller until there’s nothing between your cars.

“Final Lap!”

You can hear the clamor, taste victory on your tongue as you cross the finish line, 305 remaining kilometers (that's very long, it seems weird?) between you and the cup. Mydei’s car still drives ahead of yours by a few centimeters. He takes the turn, and so do you. The sound of hot tires screeching against harsh asphalt, he takes the inner curve, and that’s where you see your chance at success. You slam your foot on the accelerator, taking the turn on the outer with all you’ve got. Risky, sure, but rewarding as you see your nose overtake his, with the sound of Mydei's brakes. You’re about to realign yourself on the track until you turn your wheel, and it doesn't obey. You turn harder, your car heading straight for the sides of the circuit. Behind you, you hear a crash and screams from the crowd; before you, you’re overwhelmed by the constant beeping of the control panel.

Overwhelmed, you get distracted from your impending doom until your eyes close on instinct and your car crashes into the sides of the circuit.

The first seconds are a blur, your mind scrambling for some pointer, anything that could tell you what happened. You feel sore, your hands slowly grasping at your surroundings until something collapses behind you. Still dizzy from the car crash, you blink lazily in its direction until you feel heat, heat that turns ablaze.

Outside your car’s wreckage, you hear the sound of med teams and race engineers, but one voice towers above all.

“Fuck, get off me, I’m alive, —something they clearly won’t be if you don’t fucking help them!”

A silent scream tears out your throat, burning pain taking over your left arm. That’s when your consciousness snaps into awareness. You just had a car crash, your arm is burning like the skin is being melted off your muscles, and the smell of gasoline fills the air. Your mind connects the dots, fire, your car and yourself are quite literally on fire.

Instinct reacts faster than you ever could, if there's one thing you knew, it's that the roof could squash you any second, and you did not want to test how long that took.

Shifting while half your arm is no longer usable, you use your right foot, kicking the door open, fire burns around you. The heat is unbearable as you will yourself out of the wreckage. Your whole body aches as you take a few steps away from it. Your arm has grown numb to the pain, but the remaining parts of your body still do feel the fire on your suit. You raise your gaze, meeting Mydei’s own crashed car and nameless doctors rushing over to your stumbling form. Through the crowd, he stares you down.

Third-degree burns are nasty. You look at your arm, where dead skin cells greet you back, slowly getting covered in white as you bite your lip to remain quiet. The white lights of the hospital blind you as the nurse besides your bed gently changes your bandages.

Your fingers didn't hurt at all. The doctor had explained very gently that they no longer held any nerves that could alert you of any pain. The area around your forearm, though, hurt like hell due to the remaining nerves under the damaged skin. You sigh, the nurse beside your finishing up the process and silently leaving you to your devices.

You don't like this room, it's too silent, too calm, and most importantly, away from the action of the circuit. You're about to reach for the TV remote with your healthy arm when you hear a knock.

“Hey,”

Wait, you know that voice—

Your head snaps in its direction, and lo and behold, Mydei leans on your doorframe. You glare, why's this fucker here?

You had heard from your team that the major cause of your car crash had been Mydei's car, which had scraped the left side and wheel of your car. Leading to both your accidents. The other was your own disregard for your engineer's recommendations, which you chose to ignore for your ego's sake.

You look at him, really look at him. His hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail to avoid any contact with his bandages. His golden eyes stare into yours as you keep your judging glare. He got off much better than you have. His arm isn’t dried beyond compare, it's just broken. He had been discharged several weeks back while you still rot in this hospital bed. Your eyes land on his healthy arm, your brow raising at what it's carrying. That looks like a box your grandma keeps her needles in. What's he gonna do? Poke your eyes with knitting needles?

“What's that for?”

You ask, rather impolitely. He simply stares at you. Face devoid of expression, and it provokes you even more.

“I brought you pomegranate jam cookies.”

He says, his voice monotone and unbothered.

“Because I felt like you deserve an apology after my misjudgment caused you harm. It never was my intention.”

You pause.

“What?” You supply usefully.

Professional F1 driver Mydei is apologizing? To you?

He sighs, walking into your hospital room until he stops at your bedside, his gaze avoiding your bandaged arm.

“I'm sorry for crashing my car into yours and causing irreversible damage to your arm.”

You gape at him like a fish so long the silence turns awkward. But hey, you've been in this field for a while, and you could guarantee half the men have such repugnant arrogance, so for once in your life to have one of those you considered the most egocentrical bastard to offer an apology to you? Now, that's something that leaves you speechless.

“I'm allergic to gluten,”

You sputter. Refusing to be disarmed so easily.

“No, you're allergic to Kiwi. I asked your manager.”

Your disbelief must be written all over your face because Mydei simply sits on the stool beside your bed, cookie box in hand.

“Listen, I don't know what's going on in that brain of yours, but please do know that my actions hold no ulterior motives. I baked these cookies with my healthy arm —which was a pain, I'll have you know, I'd hate for themse to go to waste.”

You hesitate, but he doesn't seem to take no for an answer, thrusting the box into your lap, ever mindful of your injured arm.

Your gaze drops on the warm box. It smells divine, and you've been living on hospital food for the past month. Your restraint doesn't last long before your arm cracks the lid open.

“If it makes you feel better, I think your turn was very well maneuvered.”

You choke on the sweet delicacy, regaining your composure with record speed.

“I took the turn too quickly, I should've waited a little longer.”

You huff, but you can't help the tug of remorse in your gut. Here he was, apologizing to you when you were just as guilty as he was.

“I must apologize too.”

You sigh, munching on the euphoric sweet in your hand. The pomegranate balancing greatly the sweet cookie.

“You crashed because I got too confident and ignored how close your car would get to mine.”

He snorts beside you. And you try to refrain your face from heating up.

“cough but still, you're more responsible than I am.”

You answer, he doesn't rebuke, and when you turn to meet his gaze, his eyes are on your arm. You contemplate speaking up, but for once, the silence isn’t awkward or filled with unresolved tension. This silence is simply… there.

Your eyes remain on his downcast ones, he looks quite remorseful. But when his gaze snaps back up to yours, his expression changes. Veiling whatever hints of sadness may have been adorning his face with a familiar grin.

“So, when are they discharging you? I may have lost my comp car, but my motor’s still intact.”

@ kadesworld ✦ all rights reserved ✦ reqs open

[kikunai]

me

[dragonqueenstormwitch]

that one scene in crooked kingdom

[redacted-thought]

LOUVRE HEIST

SYNOPSIS. A Louvre heist? Surely the work of the Crows, although it definitely isn't Kaz's work... CONTENTS. the Crows stealing but what's new?, crack fic, beta read WC. 1.9k AUTHOR'S NOTE. I had to, anyways first post hope you like it :) ps. hope there's a bilingual person out there who reads my fic and gets the french reference lmao

“Come onnnnn,” said Jesper, drawing out the last syllable in a way he knew would annoy Kaz. “Please let me plan our next heist!”

“No. Just leave the planning to me and you can just shoot people, it’s the only thing you can do well besides gambling anyways,” replied Kaz dryly.

Jesper gasped in mock offense, “You know damn well I stopped gambling. Wylan makes sure of it. But it’ll be fun, I swear!”

“No. And that’s final.”

Oh Saints, how did they end up here…

Who knew Jesper could be so convincing? Making Kaz agree to such a request was impressive, Inej had to give him that. But right now, she was definitely regretting what could only be described as a lapse in Kaz’s judgement.

Jesper was now sitting at the head of the table, in Kaz’s spot. He was dressed just like the plan maker down to replica of his cane which he had found Saints know where and his black hat.

“So, Inej, any important information?” Silence was his only answer. “Did I do it right? It’s totally how Kaz talks, right?”

His eagerness only made the Suli sigh. “No. The Louvre is open to the public, you could have just walked in to find out the layout. But I don’t have any information since you insisted on going into this blind.”

“Heh, you’re right. Makes it more fun to guess,” he said with a wink. “Now, onto planning we go.”

He dug out dice from one of the many pockets of his suit and proceeded to throw them onto the table. The first one landed on three, “We’ll dress up as construction workers, andddd,” the second one landed on five, “and go up a ladder!”

He then searched another pocket of his suit, before pulling out a packet of cards and mixing them. He presented them in front of Nina, gesturing her to take one. “Oh, a queen of spades, we’ll take the jewels of the queen!”

His happiness resembled that of a young child, but the rest of the Crows were very much not convinced.

“And lastly,” he continued, dugging out another set of dice from yet another pocket of his suit and throwing them, “nine! We’ll ride away on motorcycles. So what do we think?”

Kaz spoke first, “I thought you said you stopped gambling.”

“Well, Wylan said I should satisfy my gambling needs by gambling on lower stake events,” answered Jesper joyfully.

“Lower stake?”

“Yes, lower stake. Like what the cooks will prepare for lunch, or—”

“My life?” offered Matthias.

Nina laughed, but quickly stopped, realising she was the only one. “Oh, sorry.”

Silence fell once more on the room, everyone hesitating to speak in front of Jesper’s bright smile. They were all waiting for Kaz to speak. Even with Jesper dressed like him, sitting in his spot, and presenting the plan, they all knew Kaz would be the one calling the shots.

The man in question only sighed before giving a small nod. “Fine. We’re leaving tomorrow at dawn. Inej, get us some construction vests. Nina and Matthias, you take care of the ladder and motorcycles.”

“YES! I knew you’d agree,” he said, jumping out of his seat and hopping to where Kaz was sat, seemingly wanting to hug him. A sharp glare stopped him and he redirected towards the door. “I’ll go get my guns!”

The door slammed shut behind him and the remaining Crows looked over to Kaz in shock.

“Demon boy, I swear you better have a back up plan up your sleeves,” grumbled Matthias.

“I have twenty-three.”

“See, this is going great already,” Jesper was over the moon.

But the other Crows only looked at him, not entirely convinced that it was such a good idea.

“Can't this thing go any faster? We'll get caught at this rate,” observed Matthias.

“Don't worry, it'll be fine,” answered Jesper like that would help soothe anyone's worries.

He did his best to stifle his laughter through the silence only interrupted by the beeping of the automatic ladder. He couldn't help it, the situation was just so damn funny.

After what felt like an eternity, the ladder finally arrived on the second floor where the queen’s jewels were exhibited, ready to steal them — as the card had decided.

“Come on, let's go in. After you,” Jesper curtsied, letting Kaz take the lead, as always.

“You're still the one in charge, you better have a good idea to break the glass.”

The silence was loud.

“The glass… right. Um, surely we can just break it.”

Everyone looked over at Jesper who was doing his best to divert the attention of the group. “Oh- waouh- would you look at that… crazy stuff. Haha.”

He went on to walk further into the gallery. “There's so many things to take. Well better get to work, amiright?”

The Crows only blinked at him before Kaz gestured for him to go ahead. “Please, since you want to be the leader so bad, by all means, lead.”

“Well there goes nothing,” Jesper concluded before smashing his hand against the glass, his hand bouncing back comically, not a dent left on the window.

However, he had not accomplished nothing, the commotion had managed to draw the attention of the guards standing off to the side.

“Tout va bien?”

The Crows looked at each other embarrassed, unsure how to proceed. Kaz tightened his grip on his cane and Inej grabbed her daggers, both ready to pounce at the first sign of hostility from the guard.

“Umm, just looking around, we don't speak french though,” said Nina, stepping forward before Kaz or Inej could kill the poor guy.

“Yeah! There were some issues with the alarm, so if you hear some weird noises, it's normal, don't worry,” added Jesper, looking very much not confident.

The guard, although sceptic, did leave them alone with not much more than a raised eyebrow, mumbling something about ‘ces putains de touristes’. The six stealers all let out a breath. Crisis averted.

“That would not have happened if you had let demon boy do what he does best,” grumbled Matthias.

“Oh, you flatter me, Matthias. You've definitely gone soft,” teased back the ‘demon boy’ in question. “Now, Jesper, how exactly do you plan on stealing the jewels if you can't break the glass?”

Jesper was left speechless, stammering to get an answer out. Wylan decided with a sigh that it was time to put him out of his misery. He opened his bag, taking out a bunch of stuff that left the rest of the group confused. “Step aside.”

He placed it near a few of the exhibits before going back to the Crows. “Brace yourself, we need to be quick once this is done.”

They all awaited the explosion that was sure to come, and prepared to run once it had occurred.

“No mourners,” said Jesper quietly.

“No funerals.”

BOOM.

Chaos ensued.

Wylan was packing his equipment, doing his best to not damage any of the tools.

Jesper was off running in every direction trying to collect as many jewels as possible.

Inej tried her best to keep the guards away, reluctant to use her daggers more than necessary.

Matthias was already halfway back onto the ladder, ready to leave with or without the rest of the crew.

Kaz was standing off to the side, sighing dramatically and muttering something about ‘regrets’ and how Jesper was ‘ruining his reputation’.

Meanwhile Nina was thriving on the chaos, very much enjoying the scene unfolding in front of her. “So where do we put those jewels?”

“What do you mean where do we put them? We take them with us,” answered Jesper, confused and slightly out of breath from all the running around he was doing.

“No, I meant a bag, you did take a bag, right?”

Jesper had in fact not taken a bag. He looked to Kaz in hopes that one of his twenty-three backup plans included a bag. But the latter only sighed, “I overestimated you, though I had estimated you very lowly.”

The blaring alarm interrupted their silent debate, as Matthias urged them out, menacing to leave without them or the jewels. The Crows all ran very quickly, Jesper the last, still collecting more and more jewels adding  them to the ever-growing pile in his arms.

Just as he was finally reaching the ladder, a crown fell onto the floor. He immediately turned around, seemingly already too attached to what he had just stolen, although his accomplices did not seem convinced by his sense of priority.

Through the chaos and the complaints of the teenagers, Wylan was the only one who had noticed security approaching the scene of the crime. “RUN!”

Jesper looked back at the crown he had unwillingly surrendered, hesitating for just a second, before running towards his friends.

“Goodbye, my dear, you will not be forgotten,” he promised the lone jewel sitting on the floor, making the five others roll their eyes in exasperation.

Once they had all boarded the ladder, Matthias activated it and so began the slow descent. The scene was truly comic and Inej almost expected elevator music to start playing in the background.

But instead of soft music, they suddenly heard shouts from the room they had just left. Guards had apparently found the missing jewels. About time…

They were screaming through the window, and in the sea of chaotic shouts Jesper vaguely recognised something like “Nique sa mère, ils s'échappent!” Insults seemed to be the only French he knew from all his time in Paris. Meanwhile, the six teenagers were getting away. On a construction ladder. Very slowly.

This could surely qualify as the slowest chase in history. They should probably be receiving some kind of award at this point. And so, once they reached the ground, they only had to take the scooters parked in front, to swiftly make their escape. But wait—

“Why are they pink?” deadpanned Kaz. He turned to Nina and Matthias, his gaze piercing.

“It was her idea,” pointed out the latter immediately.

“Way to go, throwing me under the bus,” whispered Nina harshly, before clearing her throat to answer Kaz. “Anyways, we didn’t think we'd actually get to that point of the escape.”

“Fair enough. Not like we have a choice now,” said Kaz, resigning himself to the idea of taking those motorcycles. “Wylan, take Jesper, you'll go first. Matthias and Nina, you go after. Collect any fallen jewels. Inej and I will get rid of any… unwanted company following us.”

And just like that, they managed to swiftly make their escape, Jesper celebrating with a few gun shots in the air. The poor boy didn't even get the chance to shoot at someone or something all day...

But Inej had just one final question, she just had to ask. “Be honest, you had something to do with how well this went.”

Kaz cocked a brow, unable to answer,  flabbergasted in a way he hadn't been in a long time, “No, that was all Jesper.”

He looked ahead to where the rest of the group had stopped and joined them carefully. No one had followed them and so, they stripped off the neon yellow vests to discard them in some already overflowing trashcans.

A strange looking man passed them, eyeing the vests with dry amusement only parisians could pull off.

“Ah, vous aussi vous avez rendu les armes? Eh bien, voyons combien de temps ce nouveau ministre tiendra.”

redacted-thought — all rights reserved. do not copy, steal or feed to ai.

[tankuare]

Kaz brekker I know u robbed the louvre

[bitchthefuck1]

Kaz Brekker age 9 realizing the guy who killed his brother is literally the most powerful man in the city: ...I just need to lock the fuck in—

[mysticaledelusion]

Instead of tagging six of crows fics like “no beta we die like Jordie” or “no beta we die like Matthias” people should start tagging with “no mourners no funerals no beta”

[burntfork]

jespers one-sided crush on kaz is so fucking funny the more you think about it. sorry jesper I know u want him but kaz brekker has the most insane trauma ever and he sees his dead brother in you who he has a horribly complicated relationship with because he almost holds resentment against him for his recklessness and yet he has a burning love and vengeance for said brother and he can’t have skin-on-skin interaction because he literally had to walk through a graveyard of rotting corpses as a child to survive and his life-long mission at 17 years old is to avenge said brother by slowly crumbling the empire of the man who ruined his life and he hasn’t told anyone in his crew any of this because he can’t even imagine having any emotional intimacy or vulnerability for others because that would get in the way of his mission and he would rather snarl and kill and maim and insult you for your gambling addiction than open up to other people. oh and you just so happened to have the letter j in your name. just WHAT would u do in that situation

[thejudeduarte]

Daily reminder that Kaz is actually just a teenage boy playing at being this really edgy gang leader when in reality he has the humour of a 13 year old