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rubysunnday · 1 year

Text

love language

summary: the few ways in which Kaz shows his love for Y/N

Opening night of the new Crow Club meant Y/N hadn't stopped all day. She'd been running around serving drinks and keeping an eye on the Makker's table all whilst making sure Jesper didn't gamble away everything Kaz had given him as a thank you for the Pekka Rollins job.

She hadn't stopped and now, four hours in to the night, she was tired. Her face hurt from smiling and she was almost certain that there were a few blisters on her feet.

As she set the drinks tray full of empty glasses down onto rhe bar, one of the newer members of the Dreg's appeared at her side, silently waiting for her to notice him.

"Yes?" Y/N asked tiredly. She couldn't remember his name.

"The boss wants you?"

"Who? Kaz."

"Yeah. He's in the corner."

Y/N followed the boy's vague waft of a hand and spotted Kaz sitting in a dark, seclude corner, his cane in his hands. She sighed but stepped away from the bar, weaving through the mass of people until she was in front of his table.

"What?"

"Nice to see you too," Kaz replied. "How's it going?"

Y/N's eyes narrowed, slightly suspicious. "Fine."

Kaz waved a hand and suddenly one of the barmaids appeared and set a drink down on the table in front of Y/N.

"For you," Kaz said. "As a thank you."

Y/N picked up the glass, ice jingling inside it. "So, Jesper gets money -"

"This is a thank you for what you've done tonight," Kaz replied. "The other thank you is currently clearing at the bank."

Y/N took a cautious sip. It was her favourite drink. Granted, it was the only thing she tended to order, but she was amazed that Kaz had actually remembered what it was.

"It's not poisoned."

"Even if it was, I'd still drink it, i'm desperate," Y/N replied, taking another, bigger sip.

Kaz nodded. "Don't overwork yourself. There are others who can do it for you."

Y/N smiled slightly. "I know."

Wylan had blown out all the candles in his lab and put his experiments to bed. Their sleeping situation wasn't ideal - at least Wylan's floor was clean and he'd had extra pillows.

Kaz had yet to go to sleep. He doubted that he would at all that night. His leg ached and his mind was racing with plan after plan.

Everyone else had, eventually, fallen asleep. Jesper had been first and was now snoring away, his face buried under the duvet. Nina hadn't been long after him, curled up in a ball, a heavy blanket on top of her, hiding most of her face. Wylan had quietly fallen asleep after Nina, propped up on a pillow, a piece of paper and a pen on his lap.

Inej had been trying not to fall asleep but had failed, her head slumped to the side, her hand on one of her knives.

Which left Y/N. Y/N had been sat up against a wall, numerous pillows underneath her, acting as a mattress. And, as Kaz looked over, she had slid down the wall and was now fast asleep, her chin resting on top of her chest.

Kaz grunted as he stood up. He limped down a step and picked up a folded blanket from the pile Wylan had produced. With a gentle shake, he unfolded it and walked over to Y/N's sleeping body. As carefully as he could, he laid it over the top of her, gently tucking the edges in around her.

Y/N shifted slightly but didn't wake. Kaz stepped back and watched her for a moment before walking back to the steps and sitting back down.

They'd all ran into the chapel without a second thought, slamming the door shut behind them in a weak attempt to keep the volcra at bay.

Y/N fell back against the door, putting her entire weight against it as thevolcra tried to break in. Tolya and Tamar came either side of her, squishing her between them, as they also put their weight against the door.

"Jesper, hon," Y/N said. "Wanna do your magic trick?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Jesper said, handing his revolvers to Wylan. He shooed at the three of them. "Move."

"Please," Y/N muttered, pushing herself off the wall and away from the door.

She walked forward, coming to a stop beside Kaz, her arm brushing the sleeve of his jacket. Wylan, who was stood in front of her, abruptly took a step back into Y/N. Y/N grabbed his arm and was about to ask what was wrong when she saw it.

Slowly forming in front of the stained glass window of Sankt Alina was one of Kirigan's nichevo'ya.

"Um, guys," Y/N called. "There's a shadow thing in here."

Then chaos unfolded. The nichevo'ya launched at them and they all scattered, falling into the pews and onto the floor to try and avoided the reach of the shadows. Wylan threw a small bomb at the advancing shadow and it dispersed into nothing, a few bright blue sparks the only sign it'd ever been there.

Y/N pulled herself up using a pew and exhaled a sigh of relief. She looked up and saw Jesper's face drop from a smile to absolute horror. Y/N turned around and saw another nichevo'ya looming behind her. It's tendrils shot out at Y/N.

Someone tackled Y/N to the side, into Nikolai, sending them both to the floor. The nichevo'ya's tendrils slammed into the pillar beside them before Nadia and Adrik dispersed it with a blast of air.

Y/N rolled over, almost lying on top of Nikolai, and saw Kaz sprawled on the ground beside her. He stood his cane up and pushed himself to his feet, quickly moving out the way as Tolya ran over to check on Nikolai.

"Where does it keep coming from?" Y/N asked. Tolya extended a hand and pulled her to her feet. Y/N groaned, wobbling slightly. Nikolai put a hand on her shoulder as he also stood. She nodded, reaching up and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

As the others began talking tactics and plans, Y/N looked over at Kaz, who was stood apart from everyone else.

"Thank you," she mouthed, putting a hand over her heart for a moment.

Kaz gave her a single nod.

"I've got a delivery here for a Y/N Orlova?"

Y/N poked her head out from under a table and then glanced over at Nina. "What've you been using my name for now?"

Nina held her hands up. "Not me."

Y/N stood up, dusting her hands down on her trousers. "What is it?" She asked the delivery man.

He shrugged. "Don't know, I just delivery it, my dude."

"Helpful," Y/N muttered, taking the parcel from the man.

She set it down on a table as Nina moved over to join her.

"It could be a bomb," she said.

Y/N gave her an unconvinced look. "It's from Johannes' Bakery. Besides, I doubt a bomb maker would go to the trouble of," she unfolded the flaps of the box, "wrapping a box in purple ribbon and writing my name on an envelope."

Nina reached in and took the envelope, pulling the flap open and then taking the card out. "Happy birthday Y/N." Nina paused and looked at her friend. "It's your birthday?"

Y/N nodded. "Ahuh."

"You didn't say anything."

"Never do."

"But we could've -"

"Nina, stop complaining and help me."

Nina put the card down and grabbed the bottom of the box, pulling it down and away from the cake box within. Y/N carefully set the cake box down on the table.

"Who's sent you a cake?" Nina asked, sliding into a chair.

Y/N undid the ribbon, pulling the bow out. "I couldn't tell you. I don't tend to advertise my birthday anymore."

Nina leant forward. "Hurry up and open it then."

With the ribbon undone, the cake box lid came off easily. Inside was a heart shaped cake covered in purple icing with pink and white sugar flowers around the edge. Happy Birthday Y/N was written on the top in white icing.

"Oh, my saints," Nina said. "It's beautiful."

Y/N carefully slid the cake out of the box and onto the table. "What did the note say?"

"Uh... happy birthday, thank you for everything, Mr R," Nina read out. She frowned. "Who's Mr R?"

"Why do you expect me to know?" Y/N muttered. "I've not a clue."

The front door to the Crow Club opened and Jesper and Wylan walked in, hand in hand.

"Who's cake is that?" Wylan asked, dropping Jesper's hand and heading over to the table.

"Y/N's," Nina replied.

Wylan looked at her. "It's your birthday?"

"Yup." Y/N nodded. "I don't tell people."

Jesper joined them and pressed a kiss to Y/N's cheek. "Happy birthday, love. The cake isn't from me."

"I suspected as much," Y/N muttered. "It's too nice."

Jesper laughed sarcastically. "Thanks."

From the doorway leading up to Kaz's office, a shadow slinked away and up the stairs. They pushed open the office door and hovered behind Kaz as he scribbled away.

"Well?" He prompted.

Inej walked forward and perched herself on the edge of his desk. "She loves it." She paused. "I think that's the sweetest -"

"That's all, Inej." Kaz picked up an envelope and handed it to her. "Take that to Johannes' Bakery. It's payment for Y/N's cake."

Inej nodded. She stood up and paused. "I still can't believe you bought -"

"Pay the bakery man, Inej, stop commenting on my private matters," Kaz drawled.

Inej rolled her eyes. "Fine."

She stepped out onto the landing and climbed down the stairs, not bothering to be silet.

"Inej!" Y/N yelled, hearing her friend come down the stairs. "You must try this cake, it is divine!"

Inej smiled to herself and tucked the envelope into her pocket. "You've got a cake?" She said, walking into the main floor and acting surprised. "Who sent you a cake?"

"Not a clue," Y/N replied. "But whoever it was, I love them." She took another bite and hummed happily. "Best cake ever."

Upstairs, Kaz leant over the balcony, evesdropping on his crows below. He smiled to himself and stepped back, retreating back to his office.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #fic #fanfic #six of crows fic #shadow and bone fic

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bagopucks · 2 months

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J. Hughes - Mine All Mine

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.6k

Warning(s): Relationship insecurities, minor angst

—————————————

Nobody embodied black cat and golden retriever like Jack and I. Heart warming and full of wonder clashed in a crunchy harmony with indifference and a guarded personality. Jack had an innocence that made him special. I sometimes wondered just how blind he was to the cruelties of the world, but I never dared to ruin that part of him. I envied Jack in only the way a girlfriend could. I wished I could see the world the way he did, and yet I knew I never would. My mind had been tainted by past and present. By reality and technology. While Jack seemed so perfectly protected from the atrocities of life, I seemed to always encounter them.

I saw Jack as an angel. Heaven sent. Myself? I was merely a tainted soul who’d gotten lost on the way to hell. My darkness made his light all the more prominent.

“I love that movie!” His loud voice carried across the venue. I peered over my glass of wine toward a table full of seated men and women. Jack was always so social. Especially at parties. Despite my love for weddings, I was not as outwardly jovial. I had a subtle adoration for things. A solemn love. I liked to sit and observe, and enjoy things alone. At least that was the way I had been before Jack. He was one of the only people who had ever been able to breach my walls.

People often told Jack he was too loud, how amusing was it that I was one of the only people who loved his volume. His expressiveness.

Though I did not crack a smile, my eyes lingered. And my heart thudded. Jack looked amazing. I prayed for the day that we too could be like the couple sitting alone enjoying a meal with fresh rings on their fingers, preparing to lay up our treasures together in our new home. My eyes locked with the woman next to Jesper. Our lingering gazes broke when her lips parted, and the distain in the woman’s expression spoke volumes despite her whispers.

I was not blind to the general disliking people took to me. Nobody ever understood how Jack and I were together, or how we worked. People were open about their disinterest in our relationship. A disrespectful and hurtful thing in many ways. But I had never been one to express my pain that others inflicted. I understood their concern, and yet it hurt all the same.

In truth, I too questioned my relationship with Jack. I feared I brought him down. I feared being with him did the exact opposite of what I swore to do when I chose to love him. I feared I held his wonder back.

I watched the woman’s distain shift into disgust. Jack seemed to reply to her words, but I could barely focus on him when she looked so… displeased. My heart sank. People often said I did not try hard enough to make Jack happy, and that was an easy factor to believe if nobody ever saw us in private. Though at first I used to scoff and roll my eyes, the more it was said, the more I began to believe.

I lost interest in the expensive wine I held, placing the glass down harder than I expected on the table. Maroon liquid rained down stop the white tablecloth. Smoothing out the wrinkles in my dress before I stood, I drew in a steadying breath. I needed a break from the party.

I found my way to the back of the large venue, pushing open one of the doors into the hallway. A cold gust of air hit my bare shoulders, causing me to shiver. The crowd inside the reception hall had made the room fairly hot. I did not expect the major temperature change.

My pace slowed as I found myself in a safer space, out of the vision of prying gazes. I strolled down the hall, my eyes settling on the strings of photos of the bride and groom. I envied how wide the bride seemed to make the groom smile in every photo. I never had that effect on Jack. I was not hilarious or quick witted. I had no great jokes, and even my accidents were never humorous. Of course Jack would argue, but I never agreed with him. Was I everything Jack needed? Or was everyone right? My heart hurt at the idea. Was I holding Jack back? Another shiver caused my hands to wrap around my own body. I rubbed my arms in hopes of warming up, my eyes locking on a photo of the beautiful couple at the last All Stars red carpet. Even in public, the bride could put on a show. Emotional loneliness quickly snuck up on me. Jack never had to worry about being unfulfilling in our relationship. Nobody questioned if he was doing enough. Nobody judged him. He didn’t understand. Nobody did.

“It’s freezing out here.” The loneliness only deepened at the sound of his voice. I was so enveloped in my own mind that I didn’t truly register Jack’s presence until he was draping his suit jacket over my shoulders, and wrapping his arms around my frame. I leaned into his chest, instinctually.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?” Jack always knew how to settle in my presence. As much as I loved his loud and energetic side, I loved his quiet and sweet side even more. Jack surprised me with how intimate he could make almost any situation. Even this, standing together in solemn silence, feet away from a room full of people.

“Jack,” I spoke in return, turning my head to rest my cheek on his shoulder.

“I know.” He whispered. “I always know.” He didn’t always have the right things to say, but Id give him credit for knowing what to say about 90% of the time. I stood silently in his arms, uncertain of how to respond. How to open up. “Jesper’s girlfriend doesn’t know shit.” He broke the silence, “She doesn’t know you.” Addressing the topic never seemed to make it better. At least not in the moment. Tears threatened to ruin my maskera. “It’s just talk. That’s all it ever is. They don’t know you.” His grip tightened on me, and I shook my head. I would never see myself the way Jack saw me.

“What if everybody’s right? What if you’re just blind to my flaws because you think you love me?” I whispered, averting my gaze to the ceiling in a feeble attempt to avoid shedding any tears.

“Baby, I’m not blind to your flaws. I know you have ‘em, and I love every single one. But don’t you ever think that your personality is a flaw.” I tensed as Jack’s arms released me from their grip, but I allowed him to spin me around so we could stand face to face. His warm hand gently cupped my jaw, and I found myself yearning to be perfect for him. Wishing that I could be more deserving of the man in front of myself.

“Everybody tells me I’m too loud, and everybody tells you that you’re too quiet. We just balance each other out, eh?” He flashed a tiny grin in my direction. “There’s always gonna be haters, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you.” I finally mustered the ghost of a smile, blinking to try and rid of the tears quickly.

“Even when I’m antisocial?” I prodded softly, maybe to boost my own ego. I reached upwards to wipe my tears, only for Jack to grab my hand and wipe them for me.

“Your silence is so hot.” I found amusement in his words, as well as embarrassment. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as an involuntary laugh parted my lips. “There’s my girl.” Jack brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Proving everybody wrong one grin at a time.” The brunette grabbed ahold of my other hand, taking a backwards step and urging me to follow with a gentle tug. “Come dance with me. Please. I’ve wanted to get you in my arms all night.”

How could a woman feel any more wanted?

“Let me love you, please.”

How could a woman say no?

“My love..” I whispered, reluctant to move.

“In front of everyone else.” Jack insisted. “I want them to know I’m happy.” His words took the breath from my lips. The tears returned, but for more positive reasons.

“You’re happy,” I echoed as a gentle reminder to myself.

“I’ve never been happier.” I finally relented, moving along with Jack back through the hallway. Alongside him, I felt much less anxious about being observed by the crowd. I avoided their gazes as we entered the reception hall once more, hand in hand. Jack led me effortlessly toward the dance floor, at a steady but comfortable pace. I refused to allow my eyes to leave his frame, even as he pulled me into the middle of the floor, enveloping me in his arms all over again. The embrace was warm and safe. I rested my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as he slowly began to sway. I allowed his movements to shift my own body, closing my eyes to take it all in.

“Fuck ‘em all.. yeah?” Jack whispered in my ear. I chuckled.

“I like that.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes #luke hughes

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jazzythursday · 11 months

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Wylan leaves in the morning.

He doesn’t plan to, not exactly, but he definitely doesn’t plan on staying, either.

Wylan is no stranger to one night stands. He can’t say he gets around very frequently, but enough to know the general plot of how they're supposed to go.

Flirt, drink, fuck, leave. The order isn’t necessarily set in stone, but the list ends the same every time.

He has a good time, for the most part, and it’s always a welcome break from the awful chemical smell burned into the Tannery or the staleness of the empty rooms in cheap boarding houses (when he can afford them) that Wylan is used to. Wylan likes the freedom that comes with it, too. It’s liberating to go where he wants and do what he pleases; to not worry about who he’s seen with or sleeps with or what they might think of him after. And he likes feeling wanted, for a little while. He likes being reminded that he exists.

So Wylan does not make a habit of falling asleep with the people who take him to bed.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, really.

He doesn't remember, and yet, Wylan wakes up with his head pillowed on Jesper’s chest. With Jesper’s arm draped over him. His breath is warm where it ghosts over the top of his hair, and if Wylan glances up he can see the way Jesper’s mouth— those lips— fall open in sleep.

It’s the best morning he’s had in months, possibly. Certainly the most comfortable.

He knows it can’t last.

Wylan looks at Jesper, still sleeping peacefully next to him, and he panics.

He’d woken up in Jesper Fahey’s arms.

He’d slept with Jesper Fahey.

Jesper has a reputation, and Wylan knows it, even new to the Barrel as he is. He’d heard about Dirtyhand’s second and resident sharpshooter plenty— Can’t resist a gamble, never misses a shot, and not just with bullets. Jesper Fahey is an excellent marksman, they say, with terrible luck with the cards, and a soft spot for pretty girls and even prettier boys.

Jesper’s played the field— multiple fields— went on a seismic world tour of fields.

Wylan is very good at not being noticed. He’s also very good at listening. People tend to look past him, they never pay any mind to the too skinny boy with the wild hair and the hunched shoulders and the grime that never seems to wash off completely after his long shifts at the Tannery. Wylan knows this, knows he’s very adept at being able to disappear, when he needs to.

So by the time Wylan actually meets Jesper, he’s well aware of his place in Ketterdam’s booming rumor mill. Jesper has many, and Wylan thinks by now he may have heard them all.

And yet, none of them do a thing to prepare him for Jesper.

They’d met in a tavern.

Wylan had been nursing his drink for the better half of an hour, trying to come up with reasons not to go back to the sad cot he had waiting for him in a rented room, with the only window overlooking the brick wall of a dark alley.

So far, he’d only come up with the one.

Wylan had seen the tall Zemeni man from across the room and hadn’t stopped looking since. He was flirting with a girl at the bar, twirling one of his guns in one hand demonstratively with a drink in the other. The girl— a curly haired blond— was giggling, hand pressed to her mouth with eyes that had very clear and direct intentions.

Wylan had almost resolved himself to a night of wasting the few kruge at his disposal with little to show for it, when the man had looked up and caught him staring. The man had smiled, twirling his gun with an extra flourish and then tipped his hat. Wylan smiled back, and gave a little wave. Embarrassing, He’d thought, stop it, he’s already with someone else anyway. He’d looked down, and stared at the near empty contents of his drink until someone sat down next to him and said, in a voice like apple butter and sweet syrup, “Can I get you another of those?”

Then Wylan had looked up into the eyes of the handsomest man he’d ever seen, and thought, he has the most perfect lips.

Out loud, he’d said, “I, uh, well—” His mouth was wide open, he’d realised, and shut it quickly. Again, the man had smiled. Again, Wylan had smiled back. “Yes, please.”

And that's how he’d met Jesper.

Afterwards, they’d stumbled through the streets— I know a place, Jesper said, If you want to take this somewhere more private— until they’d passed a corner where a vendor was selling traditional Kerch sweets out of a cart.

“Stroopwafels!” Jesper had stopped. “I love stroopwafels!”

Wylan was tugging him toward the cart without really making a conscious decision to move, and Jesper had laughed, surprised and delighted.

Wylan bought them both stroopwafels and handed Jesper his with a shy smile and a shrug. “For the drink.”

Jesper looked at him consideringly, head caulked to the side, and Wylan felt himself blushing in the low light of the lamps. “You’re sweet,” he’d said eventually.

“Is that bad?” Wylan had asked, sheepish. Jesper was already shaking his head.

“It’s good. Just not that many sweet things to be had in the Barrel. It’s refreshing.” He’d bit off a piece of one of the waffles and smiled. “These are sweet too,”— he’d leaned in, smile still earnest but with something decidedly different underneath— “I like sweet.”

Jesper had not touched him like he’d been expecting to be touched. Jesper made no assumptions; he’d asked, about everything, in a way that was near gentlemanly if it wasn’t for the fact that he radiated trouble through his pores. Jesper was— not quite gentle, because Wylan had expected hot and heady and everything deep, and Jesper was all of that and more— but he wasn’t rough. He didn’t bruise, not if Wylan didn’t say yes first, and afterwards he’d laid back down and settled Wylan into his arms in a way that he had no real way of protesting— didn’t want to protest, anyway— and kissed him.

It was that that had scared Wylan the most, he thinks. Because Wylan is rarely kissed for the express purpose of it. It was always the promise of more— the rush of what was to come. But people do not generally tend to kiss Wylan for the sake of kissing Wylan. It’s different. Jesper is different, and Wylan can’t afford to be stupid enough to do something like get attached. Can’t afford much at all— really.

But Jesper had kissed him, pleased and lazy and warm, and at some indeterminate time later they had both apparently fallen asleep.

And it was nice.

It was too nice. It hurt with how nice it was.

Wylan peels himself slowly out of Jesper’s arms, careful not to wake him, and decides then that he cannot stand to be here any longer.

Jesper Fahey is not what he’d expected, he’s better.

Jesper Fahey is lovely, and beautiful, and kinder to him than anyone has been to Wylan for almost as long as he can remember.

Jesper Fahey is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he isn’t going to stick around for someone like Wylan.

So Wylan leaves, and he doesn’t look behind him as he closes the door.

#wesper #inspired by the tweet about what kit said about their first meeitng #wesper drabble #wesper ficlet #wesper fanfic #wylan hendriks #wylan van eck #jesper fehey #shadow and bone #six of crows #shadow and bone fanfiction #Jazzy writes #jazzy writes fanfic #a drabble for your troubles?

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reve-writes · 1 year

Text

—anger; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 0,8k words. ʚ based off of this request. | kaz gets angry and finds comfort with the reader. ʚ established relationship; kaz is ok with being touched by reader. ʚ a/n i am a sucker for kaz being whipped. like this man is 100% the biggest softie for his s/o. we all remember the line from the book where he wanted to bottle inej's laugh and get drunk on it every night. if you have more kaz/grishaverse reqs my asks are open!

Kaz likes to think that he has somewhat of a good grasp of his emotions. He puts on masks like turning the back of his hand. His favourite one, though, is the one he wears the most. Cool and polished, unfeeling. Stoicity that demands respect and fear—that instills intimidation.

It's not so easy to slip on that mask when his entire body practically hums with anger, his fingers twitch underneath the gloves. The desire to fucking hit something burning under the leather.

The reason is clear, being whispered in both fearful hushes and celebratory gasps: Pekka Rollins has been released from Hellgate.

Life has a way on turning a good thing into something bad. Kaz is used to it. He has come to expect it. Hell, he expects the Dregs to eventually fall apart. Expects the Crows to eventually leave him. Expects you to get fed up with him and pack your things.

He doesn't expect Pekka Rollins to be released—after all he's done to make sure the bastard ends up where he deserves to.

“Kaz—” An unfortunate Dregs member speaks, perhaps wanting to relay the message or simply making formalities.

Kaz spins around. The desire to swing his cane in a bone-breaking arc is there. He doesn't.

“Not one word.”

That's all he says. The air in the Crow Club turns suffocating—all tension and no reprieve. Everything is still being conducted as normal: barkeeps are serving drinks, gamblers are opening tables and customers are drinking and carolling. To those who know Kaz well enough, know his tells and his history with the leader of the Dime Lions, it feels like walking across a glass bridge. Every step is followed by the anticipation of falling through.

Jesper turns to look at Wylan, who glances at Nina and Matthias. The couple turns to Inej. The Wraith stares at you. Unspoken words are exchanged from across the room, over rowdy drunkards and laughing gamblers.

The door to Kaz's office on the second floor slams shut. A tremble goes through the frame. It gets lost quickly, swallowed by the hustle bustle of the Barrell, but you notice. Of course, you do.

You stare at the rest of your friends and find them looking back at you expectantly. Jesper tilts his head towards the stairs.

You sigh, putting up a hand towards them—your first two fingers are crossed over each other. Then, you're already on the steps, knocking at the door gently.

“Kaz?”

You hear a loud sigh.

“Can I come in?”

“You'll barge in anyway.”

You let out a soft chuckle and push the door open. He sits on his desk, one leg stretching out to balance his body while the other is bent. He shakes his knee idly. Both of his hands grab the edge of the desk that over hangs, fingers tapping periodically.

He spares you a glance under the brim of his hat and relaxes slightly. Your presence alone melts the tautness in his shoulders. It always does.

“Are you alright?”

“Never been better.” Sarcasm laces each word.

You sigh, approaching him. He doesn't flinch away when you step into his personal space—something that has taken years to work towards and you're grateful for the point you've reached together.

“It's inevitable, you know?”

Your words cut but they're nothing short of the truth. Someone as powerful as Pekka Rollins will eventually get out—it isn't a reach to conclude. Deep down, Kaz knows as well. He just likes to think that he finally is able to lock away that part of his past and throw away the key, but it always comes crawling back. Meaner than ever.

“I know, schatje,” he says, defeated.

You step closer and pull the hat off of his head. Your hand runs through his scalp to smooth out the flattened hair, combing through smooth, dark strands. He leans into the touch. One of his hands go to your arm and brings the inside of your wrist to his lips.

“Everyone was scared of you,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. He raises an eyebrow. You add, “Well, more than usual.”

He lets out a huff—the beginning of a chuckle. “As they should be.”

“You are not-so-scary right now.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Only for you.”

“Ever the charmer.”

His arms come to rest around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he lets you soothe the anger—calm the storm inside him.

“We'll get him again, Kaz,” you say, pulling away slightly to look at him. “Together, okay? We've done it once. What's a second time?”

He hums. “You're right.”

“I often am.”

“Well, except for that time—”

“Kaz!”

It seems that you've successfully staved him off of being consumed by his anger, once again.

[ ]

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #—ki writes 🍯

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dwyntwo · 7 days

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I like to think that Kaz is sort of like Wylan's and Jesper's cat. Like they hear some small noise downstairs at 3 AM, and they'll roll their eyes and say "It's Kaz again".

One day Wylan leaves the house and screams in terror because Kaz is casually chilling on the roof. "For a better view on my targets," he says. What targets does he mean? No idea. How did he get up there? No one knows. Can he get down on his own? No. Will he climb up again tomorrow? Absolutely.

He comes by- uninvited!- just to eat their food, and when they ask him to stop, he gives the "You told me to take better care of myself!" response. Oh, and he pushes things off tables, just to be an asshole. Once Kaz is more comfortable and has learned to trust his friends and be vulnerable around them, they randomly find him napping in strange places of the house as if he pays rent.

When he's sick or hurt, he hides and hisses when approached.

Sometimes he kidnaps people that annoy or threaten Wylan and Jesper and drops them at their doorsteps. As gifts ❤

The final straw is when one day Wylan and Jesper plan to take a romantic bath together, and when they enter the bathroom- surprise!- Kaz is already in the bathtub with a glass of brandy in his hand, having the audacity to look scandalized and be like "Can you KNOCK?!"

It has come to the point where he's their mean, murderous, asshole roommate who just eats all their food and breaks all their locks constantly lol

#i know i made this post already but I had so much more to add to it #so i decided to make another one lol #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #six of crows #soc #jesper fahey #wylan van eck

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snowblack-charcoalwhite · 1 year

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Does anyone want some more Wesper ramblings accompanied with crappy gifs? No? Well, have some anyway, cause I`m in the mood:)

The first (not really, but still) kiss scene has been gushed over and analyzed to the hell and back. But here are my two cents, cause it`s pure magic and I can`t stay silent.

It`s the way Jesper tries to chase Wylan`s lips for a moment and then relents - wanting to continue kissing him yet not willing to push Wylan, with the last sentiment winning.

It`s Jesper`s eyes, closed in bliss for a few seconds - and then opening and producing the true suckerpunch of a stare, full of joy, adoration and disbelief. It`s no bomb dropping to say that Jesper, despite his seeming devil-may-care attitude, is a very affectionate person, tender, vulnerable, craving love - almost desperate to love and be loved. And right here he`s having his 'Oh' moment. No, he can`t make promises or predictions. No, he can`t know what the future holds. Yet in these brief moments Jesper`s eyes are saying it all: 'It`s you. All this time, all these kisses, all these people - I`ve been looking for you. I`ve been waiting for you'.

It`s Wylan`s eyes talking: the tiny beat of hesitance in the question 'Was it good?' - then joyful and just a little smug 'Oh, I see it was' - and then urgent, focused, half-imploring half-commanding 'Say it. Say it was good. I want you to say it'. And Jesper does.

'That was even better that the last time' - with his voice, usually loud, confident, sure voice, breaking on the word 'time' - followed yet again by the same 'I can`t believe this is happening. I can`t believe you are real' look in his eyes.

They`re soulmates, Your Honour, I rest my case. Right, this is not their first kiss. But does it matter, really? It`s not the fact that you`re kissing someone that makes the difference - it`s who you are kissing. And this time they both know. This is their 'and with one kiss, you inspired a fire of devotion that lasts for twenty years' moment. Except there definitely will be more than one kiss, so the fire will burn, bright and tender, gentle and blazing hot, for way more than twenty years. For as long as fate will give them.

#i love them so much #and i love their love #shadow and bone #sab #shadow and bone season 2 #sab season 2 #wesper #jesper x wylan #wylan x jesper #wylan van eck #wylan hendricks #jesper fahey

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ashessonfire · 1 year

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Part two of 'Intruder' <3

'Intruder' Kaz Brekker x Reader (part 2)

Prompt - A few months had passed since you stumbled into the crow club, leaving the crows curious as to who they were. How will the crows react to the most vulnerable secret of Kaz Brekker finally being revealed?

- Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Civilian!Reader (Gender neutral) - Warnings: none? again just Kaz being soft, some mentions of the break in but literally PURE FLUFF

A/N: Once again i am incredibly grateful for all the love and support, and hopefully i have done justice with this part two! it can be read as a stand alone, some of the context will be confusing, but hopefully still just as cute! if you haven't read the first part, you can find it here!!

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A couple of months had passed since your less than ideal first meeting with the crows. Since that frantic day, your locks had been switched to the latest designs, being inspected thoroughly by your lover until even he, the master of his trade, struggled to crack them.

Although you were still paranoid beyond belief each time you turned the key to your home, the knowledge that Kaz had thoroughly ensured your protection settled the nerves fluttering in your chest. Frequent visits from your husband weren’t unusual, often slipping away from his desk during the earliest hours to bask in your company, allowing you to bathe him with love and affection, something he had slowly accepted and found he thoroughly enjoyed, only on one condition.

It had to be from you.

But since that night, he came over more frequently, stopping off after heists with gifts he had ‘bought’, or dropping in to work on blueprints, stating that there was too much paper cluttering the desk in his usual space, making you smile at his blatant lies just to be closer to you.

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Kaz vigorously battled with his mind on the night you visited the crow club, having to repress his heart's wishes to stay with you, for your safety, and his peace of mind.

However, he dragged himself back, leg stiffening in the frigid air, sending sharp bolts of pain through to his bone. Yet that wasn’t what plagued the man as he limped back to the slat. What haunted him most was the idea that he would have to confront his crows about his one true weakness.

Evidently being you.

Kaz demanded each crow's presence, ordering them to his office as soon as the sun began to slowly bleed its light into the impenetrable darkness of Ketterdam. Once they were situated in the cramped room, he hardened his gaze and lowered his voice, morphing it into a deadly tone.

“I am aware that last night may have surprised you, however you are not to speak a word of it to anyone. Not to dregs, customers, or civilians. Do I make myself clear?” Kaz bit out, leading Jesper to swallow thickly, Nina to shift her gaze to the condensation on the windowpane, and Inej and Wylan to both find wonderfully interesting specks of dirt on the panels of the floor.

The crows remained true to their word, still in awe at the mysterious figure who seemed to have tamed the Bastard of the Barrel, but far more scared of the consequences that may come with disobeying their boss’s order. However, Kaz had made a grave mistake with his command, demanding your existence to remain unbeknownst to the dregs, but never specifying that they were forbidden from discussing you with each other.

You became somewhat of a legend amongst the crows, appearing frequently in gossip which they housed in their cramped rooms at the slat, waiting for the clicking sound of a cane and heavy footsteps to disappear into their owner’s office to begin discussion.

“How long do you reckon they've been together for? I mean, I have never seen Kaz holding anyone’s hand before,” Nina mumbled through a mouthful of pastry, whilst wearing a highly quizzical look.

Jesper smirked at the group, “How did Kaz even manage to find someone like that, furthermore, how did Kaz keep it a secret for so long?” the sharpshooter questioned, one eyebrow raised far above the other. “They seemed so lovely, its surprising Kaz would let someone like that so close to him,” Inej chimed in, sharing a similar curiosity towards you.

As the weeks rolled on, the crows began dropping subtle hints to their leader of their interest in meeting you formally, evidently following the rules of the warning he dealt on the night of the intrusion. Curiosity was consuming the group, and even Kaz couldn’t deny his intensifying wish to display his proudest achievement to his closest friends, his relationship with you.

Unbeknownst to the crows, you too had been troubling Kaz about meeting his friends, desperate to erase your first impression on them and truly show yourself, not the terrified stranger begging for comfort.

After several nights of thorough bargaining with your husband, he reluctantly agreed to introduce his group to you, on the condition that you would be far from the Barrel’s hotspots, somewhere unreachable by rival gang’s watchful eyes. Squeezing Kaz’s hands tight, and giving him an appreciative kiss, you bound off to prepare for tomorrows event, leaving a softly smiling husband in your wake.

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Kaz couldn’t decipher his emotions as they rushed through him at an alarming pace, feeling anxious, excited, and fearful all at once. The pair of you had settled for your favourite café, a small establishment on the outskirts of the city, residing on a flower ridden street, colourful lanterns hanging like falling stars from ropes above the houses. The sight was a direct juxtaposition of the intensity found in your husband’s usual Barrel life, but a contrast which never failed to warm Kaz’s heart whenever he stepped foot there with you.

Dressed in your finest, you waited anxiously at the largest table the cramped café had to offer, adorned with scented candles, besides an array of flowers you had picked early that morning, dew still dripping from a few of the glistening forget-me-nots. You sat beside Kaz, gripping tightly to his gloved hand, the other fidgeting with the edge of his coat as a distraction.

Kaz instantly picked up on your nervous state, squeezing your hand in reassurance and brushing a whisp of fallen hair out of your gently lit eyes, staring long enough to just catch the flicker of the candles within your irises. “They’re only my crew, darling. If they do anything wrong I will…” Kaz began, but he was cut short by your breathy laugh. Apparently, the wrath of your husband against those who threatened you extended even to his closest and most trustworthy companions.

The door swung open, revealing a well dressed set of crows, their eyes steering directly to the couple before they briskly made their way over to you. A sudden fear rose within you, but you refused to display the same expression you had at the crow club, willing to give your best performance until the feeling subsided. You shot each one a welcoming smile, exchanging pleasantries as they made themselves comfortable.

The fear shattered within you as you took each of the crow’s expressions in, which all seemed to strangely resemble awe? Excitement? Your initial confusion was brought to a standstill as Kaz turned to them, stating clearly, “Everyone, this is Y/N, my wife,” offering a tight-lipped smile to his friends.

Nina suddenly spat out her drink, eyes bulging as Jesper made a choking sound somewhere in the back of his throat. Inej and Wylan sat looking dumbfounded, the boy’s jaw hanging slightly open.

“Uhmm. Excuse me, let’s take a few steps back, shall we? Wife?!” Jesper exclaimed, completely in astonishment. Kaz took a deep breath in before tightening his hold on your hand, clearly apprehensive to reveal his most vulnerable softness to his friends, who had rarely seen more than a smirk from their stoic boss. As the crows gathered their thoughts and tried to configure logical reasoning as to what had been revealed, the elderly owner of the café hobbled over, giving Kaz a toothy grin.

“It’s been a while Mr Brekker! I was wondering when we would be graced with your presence again, I have already prepared your regular, peach pie with…” The woman began but was cut off sharply by a “Thank you,” from Kaz, as he turned his head to hide his embarrassment. Nina let out a snort as the other three simultaneously burst into giggles, causing you to fall victim to the contagiousness of the laughter.

By this point Kaz was beyond mortified, being called out as a ‘regular’ at a joyful family-run café at the edge of the Barrel, as well as having his guilty pleasure exposed to his crew who he was positive would never let this go.

Despite this humiliation, Kaz felt a drop of warmth seep into his chest at the sight of you conversing with his friends, immediately connecting with each one of them. He felt something moving inside of him, deciding it was probably you, chipping away at his apparently impenetrable walls.

As the late afternoon clouds faded into the evening haze, the group departed with delighted goodbyes and warm hugs, establishing the beginning of many trips to visit Kaz’s (now) not-so-secret wife. You left them armed with new candles for the slat, baked goods, and most impressively, trinkets from the market which you had bought personally for each crow, going solely off your husband's descriptions of each individual.

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A glowing warmth radiated from the couple as you both walked, fingers entwined, back to your home, taking in the constellations which lit up the tranquil streets you winded through. Kaz decided to reward himself with a rare but well-earnt night in, with the single intent of being doused in your affection.

Kaz smiled lovingly down at you, as you peacefully slept wrapped in his shirt and coat, wiped out by the intense emotions that poured through you that day.

Crouching down slowly, your husband fiddled with a stray piece of your hair, admiring how the serene glow from the fire softened your features, catching in your figure perfectly, framing your face in a halo of light.

He settled down next to you, exhausted but proud. Proud of how far you two had come, which flooded him with a sense of relief. Because as it turns out, his crows could undoubtedly see the same beauty he was blinded by within you.

And it was clear in this moment, both to him and his crew, that Kaz Brekker was more than just in love with you. His entire existence was plagued with sentiment for you, and for once Kaz couldn’t seem to view it as a weakness, rather a sign that something deep inside him was healing.

“I love you, darling of my heart,” Kaz whispered as he kissed you goodnight.

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tag list: @chaoticbeanz @kryptonitewizard @alanis-altair @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy <33

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x reader fluff #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #kaz brekker x you #ashessonfire #shadow and bone season 2

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happyyyandcrazyyy · 2 years

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three taps (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

the three times it took jesper to realize that three taps were something more than a meaningless habit.

warnings: violence, blood, implied se*ual as*ault (not detailed at all and very brief)

a/n: did i write this in less than a day? yes. did the inspiration come to me at six am? also yes. what about your other 50 wip, anna? did you write anything for them? nope.

hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

i. tap, tap, tap

Jesper had seen him do it more times than he could count. It was Kaz’s thing. Three taps, index finger hitting a wooden table, thumb brushing against a map or cane harshly meeting the floor. Most times they were fast taps, like a subconscious action, coming and going before anyone could give it any mind. Other times, however, they were slower, more emphasized, as if trying to make a point. Jesper was used to the taps, as he imagined (Y/N) and Inej also were. The sound came prior to every heist, prior to pronouncing the words of luck (no mourners, no funerals).

It was Kaz’s habit, something he probably did without even realizing, and Jesper couldn’t help but find it oddly comforting, a routine that somehow eased his nerves. (The world could be going to war, Ketterdam could be crashing down in flames, and Kaz would still tap three times. There was a sense of safety in that.)

It wasn’t until Jesper had a closer look that he realized the action was perhaps not as meaningless as he believed.

ii. cane meets ground three times: come back to me, i’m here

(Y/N) had known Kaz the longest out of all of them. Jesper hadn’t known the Slat without her, he hadn’t known Kaz without her. She’d always been there, a person in which the Dregs often found solace and always obtained an ear to listen without judgment. (Y/N) was a walking contradiction, soft around the edges yet powerful enough to bring the toughest people to their knees. She was everything Kaz wasn’t, maybe that was the reason they complimented each other as well as they did.

In a place where kindness was rewarded with death (Y/N) was unusually good-natured. Stray kids in the Barrel knew to find her if they were ever in urgent need of food or shelter. To outsiders she might’ve looked frail, her kindness might’ve made her seem weak, but the people of the underworld knew better than to be fooled by her selfless actions and innocent appearance. (Y/N) had an innate talent for causing people’s demise and there wasn’t a line she wasn’t willing to cross. The gentleness in her eyes would immediately harden at the sight of any threat, like molten lava hitting cold air. People who double-crossed her didn’t live to tell the tale.

Jesper wasn’t quite sure how Kaz and (Y/N) had met. From the whispers he’d heard around the Slat he figured it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. (Y/N) didn’t really discuss her life before joining the Dregs, not even when some of them would gather around to drink and curse the ghosts of the past.

Only once had Jesper gathered enough courage to break past the personal boundaries she’d clearly set and ask.

(And he’d only done it because he’d been almost drunk and really really curious.)

Kaz had been there, quietly observing as he often did, when the words had fallen out of Jesper’s mouth. He’d frozen in place, even when the question hadn’t been directed towards him, jaw tightening. Jesper had noticed Kaz’s instinctive response— because he might’ve been careless and drunk but he was also keenly observant —and that had him sobering up enough to know he was treading in dangerous territory.

No one had ever asked her directly, he’d realized at that moment as he held his breath and awaited a response. Many gossiped and guessed but no one had ever walked up to her and asked her about her past.

The softness hadn’t left (Y/N)’s face, but it was evident that the question had taken her by surprise because she’d frozen mid-action for a split second and something in her features broke. For the first time since he’d known her, Jesper saw the exhaustion and affliction in her eyes. The glint had disappeared as soon as it’d come, (Y/N) had regained her composure lightning fast, and Jesper had wondered if it’d ever been there at all.

She’d looked behind his shoulder at Kaz and they’d shared a look, one that Jesper couldn’t quite decipher. Something must’ve been telepathically said because the grip that Kaz had on his cane had lessened. His eyes, however, didn’t lose the murderous glint in them. Whatever he was remembering had fury roaring through his mind.

(It was only then that Jesper had understood that Kaz hadn’t been angered by his question but rather by the memories that had resurfaced. It must’ve been really serious because the only other time Jesper had ever seen that look in Kaz’s eyes Inej had been hurt and a guy had lost his eye.)

“I was a slave, Jes.”

Jesper did not know what he’d been expecting but that certainly hadn’t been it. As (Y/N) had pronounced the words a shadow crossed her face. It was the way she’d looked away from him, in discomfort and embarrassment, that had realization striking him like lighting. The weight of her words had settled in and Jesper understood, somewhat suddenly, what type of slave she’d been; the type to be used and discarded for the pleasure of rich men, sold and bought as if worth nothing more than an object. The burns and scars on her chest had suddenly made sense.

“It was a long time ago,” she’d added, eyes slightly glazed over, like she was physically there but mentally elsewhere. “And those men,” her eyes had flickered to Kaz before settling back on him, “they’re dead.”

More than dead if Kaz had something to do with it, Jesper had imagined.

Jesper had no way of knowing of the images flashing through her mind (pain, blood, and filthy hands. moans, tears, and screams) but he had recognized the unfocused gaze and the shaking fists by her side as her body’s response to reliving the trauma.

Jesper had never wished he could take back his words more than at that precise moment.

He’d opened his mouth to say something, anything to make the haunted look on her face dissipate, to lessen the burned he just had realized she carried, but Kaz had beaten him to it.

Tap, tap, tap.

Gently, he’d poked the floor with the ferrule of the cane. The metal had hit the ground heavily, the thud resonating. Kaz’s eyes, Jesper had noticed, remained trained solely on (Y/N), eyebrows furrowed in something that might’ve been concern.

The sound had somehow snapped through the haze of memories and had managed to bring her back to them. (Y/N) had blinked the stupor away, once again in a surprisingly fast manner, before offering Jesper a smile that had every word dying at the back of his throat.

It was small and unbelievably sad, but genuine. It was enough for him to know that she didn’t resent him for asking.

“It was a long time ago,” she’d repeated, almost to herself. Then, she’d tapped the table three times, softly. Jesper wouldn’t have noticed the action if he hadn’t been hyperaware of his surroundings.

At the moment it’d seemed like a coincidence, like (Y/N) had mimicked Kaz’s habit to anchor herself back, but as Jesper laid awake later that night he’d realized it hadn’t been just that.

She’d turned to briefly look at Kaz after doing it. If Jesper had been soberer maybe he would’ve realized that Kaz had said something and (Y/N) had responded.

iii. foot meets floor three times: i’m worried, be safe

Getting shot at was always a nuisance, so it was a true inconvenience that (Y/N) appeared to be a bullet magnet.

Really, the girl had more bullet wounds than Jesper could count. (There were two on her left shoulder, close enough to overlap, and one on her right one. There was one on her upper thigh— which Jesper had never seen but Inej said was almost unnoticeable —and the graze on her left side). Despite her bad luck Jesper reckoned (Y/N) had some sort of Saint looking over her because, somehow, the bullets always missed any important organ.

(“I’m saving you for getting hit,” she’d once joked as Inej changed the bandage on her shoulder. “So, really, you all should be thanking me rather than worrying.”

Jesper would never admit it, but sometimes he thought about her words in a serious manner. Sometimes, as he gambled and his mind slipped away, he believed that (Y/N) somehow deflected the bullets off them and ended up unwillingly pulling them towards her.

It was insane and improbable, Jesper knew that, but he still believed it.)

None of her injuries, however, had ever been as bad as the one she’d suffered two months ago. It’d been a close-range shot and the bullet hadn’t pierced cleanly through the skin but rather had settled inside. It’d missed any major artery, by some sort of miracle, but the wound had gotten infected which had resulted in (Y/N) running a high fever for almost a week.

Kaz hadn’t said a word but Jesper knew he’d been restless, especially during the worst days of the infection when (Y/N) dying was more likely than not. Jesper had seen him pacing back and forth outside of (Y/N)’s room, cane tapping thrice against the wooden floor, never going in but peaking through the door whenever Nina or Inej left. It was odd to see their unshakable leader looking somewhat distraught. Maybe that was why he seemed so on edge now. It was (Y/N)’s first heist after the injury.

Jesper would lie if he said that he wasn’t worried. With her luck, she might end up getting shot tonight, again. He kept on looking at her from the corner of his eye, half expecting her to start bleeding out like she’d done all those months back.

(The image of blood slipping past her lips and her wide eyes was burned in the back of Jesper’s mind. He could still feel the blood soaking his shirt as he’d held her together with his bare hands.)

But (Y/N) remained excitedly rocking on her heels, twirling the gun in her hand the way Jesper had taught her. She caught his eye and winked.

She’ll be alright, Jesper reassured himself.

“Let’s go over it one more time.”

Kaz’s voice broke through the silence of the night, low enough to not startle the birds that slept in the trees above but loud enough for all of them to give him their attention.

Jesper stifled a groan. They’d been over this at least three times before. (Y/N) noticed his dramatized grimace and chuckled, nudging him with her elbow.

“Inej…”

The Wraith slipped out of the shadows, “I’ll enter through the back to the control room and disable the alarm. As soon as it’s done I’ll signal you.”

She nodded towards Jesper.

“Distraction as soon as I receive the sign,” Jesper continued.

Kaz assented. “The alarm deactivation will give us a ten-minute window for the theft,” he said it as if he hadn’t been reminding them of the small span of time they had ever since he’d devised the plan. “So the distraction has to last at least seven minutes.”

Jesper knew that, it gave enough time for (Y/N) to slip in and out without raising much suspicion.

He whistled and offered a self-satisfying smirk, “I’ve got it.”

Kaz stared at him for a second, as if trying to pick his mind apart with the power of his eyes, before turning to the girl by Jesper’s side.

“(Y/N)…”

She met his eyes with a grin. “I’m off the moment Jes begins to work his magic. Go in through the second window, safe is on the second floor, third room to the left.”

“And you’re looking for?”

“Pink star diamond, 60 carats,” she responded with ease. “And if something else catches my eye-”

“No,” Kaz cut her off, tone firm and resolute. Both Jesper and Inej snapped their gaze towards their leader, it wasn’t often that he limited just how much they could steal. “In and out.”

From the corner of his eye Jesper saw the smile fall off (Y/N)’s face, arms coming to cross defensively over her chest.

“But what if-”

“In and out,” Kaz repeated, always inflexible once he made up his mind. He jutted his jaw as if daring her to argue. Jesper half expected her to do so, after all (Y/N) was never afraid of disagreeing and questioning him— she was one of the few who could do it without much repercussion —but she didn’t.

If Jesper hadn’t been looking closely he would’ve missed it, the way (Y/N) eyes trailed down to Kaz’s feet, only for a second.

Tap, tap, tap.

The point of his boot tapping against the muddy floor, his eyes not once leaving (Y/N)’s.

Her face softened instantly, shoulders deflating. She tapped her index finger against her bicep thrice in return before uncrossing her arms.

She relented with a sigh, “In and out, okay.”

As they wished each other good luck (no mourners, no funerals) Kaz did it again and this time Jesper was waiting for it, the tap of the leader’s cane against the leaves.

Tap, tap, tap.

Comfort swept over him.

Everything went as smoothly as it can go when one is robbing a millionaire.

iv. finger meets wood three times: i’m sorry, i love you

Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason, Jesper had heard that saying being whispered more times than he could recall and he could vouch for it. It was, perhaps, what made Kaz so formidable. There was no knowing when he would strike because there was no why, and without a why one couldn’t forestall his actions.

Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason, but they’d given him one the moment they’d taken (Y/N). Their death sentence had been signed the moment they’d laid a hand on her.

As Jesper watched (Y/N) in silent concern he finally understood why people feared when they whispered that saying.

(Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason.)

“Find her,” Kaz had instructed Inej and Nina as soon as they’d arrived at their destination. The girls had disappeared into the night, focused on the rescue mission.

The hand with which Kaz gripped his cane had been shaking with anger all night.

The truth was he’d been seething ever since some rouge Dime Lions had taken what was his. (They’d been rouges, Kaz was certain. Pekka Rollins had sworn to him, after a few broken fingers, that he’d never ordered them to take his girl.) Everyone in the Slat had been on edge for the last three days, expecting their leader to snap at them at any moment, but Kaz had managed to keep a tight rein on his emotions.

The control had slipped from Kaz’s fingers the moment he caught a glimpse of a man on the deck of the rusty old boat, laughter-filled voice talking about how he’d made a mess of the Bastard’s bitch. The tremors in Kaz’s hands had come to a sudden stop. Before Jesper had the opportunity to even blink Kaz had fired his gun, hitting the blond straight in the forehead.

(For someone who favored his cane over every other existing weapon, Kaz had a deadly aim. Jesper would never say it out loud, but he reckoned Kaz’s ability might come close to rivaling his own.)

“I’ll deal with them.”

Jesper had known what that meant; come with me, cover my back, but let me make them suffer.

Kaz Brekker was only one man but the murderous wrath in his eyes had let Jesper know that Kaz had no intention of leaving any of them alive. He was going to make them pay, he was going to destroy them.

Brick by brick.

It’d been carnage after that. Jesper had watched, in some sort of horrified awe, how Kaz had taken down every single one of the men. He’d shot some of them too, but it’d been mainly just Kaz. There’d been screams and the smell of blood had tainted the air.

Then there’d been nothing but silence and a pained whimper.

(It was in moments like these that Jesper was struck with the realization that he knew nothing about Kaz Brekker. Because, if anyone had ever asked him about Kaz’s anger prior to what he’d witnessed that night, Jesper would’ve answered that Kaz’s anger was hot and sharp and acid, a searing rage that couldn’t be controlled once unleashed. Kaz’s anger knew no boundaries and crossed all limits, he would’ve said, it burned fiercely as it destroyed everything in its path. But that night Jesper had seen another side to Kaz’s rage. His eyes had looked downright homicidal, dangerously violent. They’d contrasted the lack of emotions in his features. His anger wasn’t fueled by emotion—not anymore, it’d gone past that —but rather by the innate need to protect what was his. It wasn’t loud or visible, but rather quiet and lethal. Cold anger that Jesper had found even more terrifying.)

“I know you planned all of this,” Kaz had walked closer to the man who laid on the ground, hands gripping a bullet wound in his kneecap and whimpers falling from his lips. “You thought taking my girl would make me falter, didn’t you?” The man had tried to scramble but Kaz had only tsked before swinging his cane against the man’s injured leg. He’d let out a pained moan, tears dripping down his cheeks. “You just made me angry.”

“Please, I’m begging you…”

“Oh, you should beg.” The heel of the cane had come down on the knees again, the snapping sound indicating a broken bone and the wail letting Jesper know just how bad the pain must’ve been. “I would shoot you in the face, but that would be too merciful of me.” He’d used the head of the cane, the prideful crow, to lift the man’s chin. “If (Y/N) was here she’d tell me to be gentle,” a shadow had crossed Kaz’s face, terrifying enough to make a chill run down Jesper’s back, “too bad for you she isn’t here.”

The head of the cane had been swung back and it came in contact with the man’s jaw. Blood had trickled down the man’s chin, a scream leaving his mouth.

“You took something of mine, you hurt something of mine, and for that, I’ll make sure you suffer.”

Kaz had used his cane after that and no more words were spoken.

Now, as Jesper watched (Y/N) flinch away from Nina, he wondered what would’ve happened if Kaz had seen her state before killing all those men. Maybe it’d been a blessing for them that he hadn’t.

Jesper had never seen (Y/N) so worn down. She sat by the stairs, knees to her chest, holding herself close. It was a strategic position, a place where she could watch all of them and no one could sneak from behind (part of Jesper’s heart had shattered when he’d come to that realization.) She’d only spent three days with the Lions but that’d been enough to cause cracks in the impenetrable wall she’d spent the last years building, past trauma slipping through. So far she hadn’t let anyone close to her, not even Inej who was her closest friend and who’d spoken in gentle whispers about treating her injuries. Her face was a mess, the beauty not gone but tainted with purples and blues. One of her eyes still bled. Under her nails and across her fingers there was dry blood but her arms held no injuries. Jesper just knew she’d given one hell of a fight. He wondered if this was what she’d looked like when Kaz had found her all those years ago, he wondered if maybe it’d been worse. He didn’t ponder long because the pain it caused in his chest was unbearable.

Her eyes snapped towards the door before it was slammed open. Jesper turned around just in time to see Kaz walk in.

(He’d changed and showered after arriving at the Slat. Jesper somehow knew he’d done that before seeing (Y/N) to prevent the blood— that’d covered his clothes and face —from triggering any unwanted memory.

It was (Y/N)’s first time seeing him after she’d been taken. Jesper knew that Kaz was their last hope of bringing her back to them.)

Jesper saw the moment Kaz’s unwavering gaze met (Y/N)’s face and he could tell, without a doubt, that anger was consuming him once again. His jaw clenched at the sight of bruises, and his hand clenched itself by his side.

He looked ready to burn the city to ashes in retribution.

Somehow, Kaz managed to control the rage. The frigid anger in Kaz’s eyes, the one that had frightened Jesper to the core, melted as he crouched in front of her.

“Are you with me?”

She blinked once, twice, thrice. Then, she nodded, and Jesper couldn’t help the sigh of relief that left his lips. She was here, broken and damaged, but here with them. That was enough.

Kaz’s gloved hand reached forward, stopping inches away from her face, ghosting over her bruised cheek. Careful not to touch any skin, he moved some of the hair out of (Y/N)’s face before fisting his hand and returning it to his side.

Jesper looked away, something about the act felt more intimate than it looked. Nosy as he was, he listened in.

“They touched me,” the voice was weak and shaky and so unlike the (Y/N) that Jesper knew.

A sharp intake of breath. “I made them pay for that.”

“Did they suffer?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” It was barely a whisper but the words were surprisingly firm.

Jesper couldn’t see but he heard the taps. Three times. Kaz’s finger against the wooden railing of the stairs.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Jesper frowned, unbelievably confused by the words the girl had just uttered.

Tap, tap, tap.

Gentle and genuine, “I love you, too.”

Everything clicked at that precise moment, the confusion faded away. Jesper was left dizzy with the realization that Kaz’s taps meant absolutely everything. They were his way of telling them he cared. No one knew, no one understood the action, and maybe that was why Kaz kept on doing it.

But now Jesper did, now he understood.

From that day on he found himself twirling his guns thrice before going out and causing mayhem.

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fantastic-nonsense · 1 month

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I love your thoughtful SoC meta! I would love to know your thoughts on Kaz and Jesper’s relationship. Specifically, I adore Kaz but one thing in particular that always seemed so dark to me was that he enabled Jesper’s gambling addiction even though he obviously does care about him. Kaz is obviously willing to do a lot of fucked up things in service of his goals, but this one in particular, toward his own brother figure, I find sad. It’s kind of addressed during their fight at the end of CK but still feels a little unfinished.

I love Kaz and Jesper's relationship. There's sooooo much to dig into there (way too much for a single meta); it's super juicy and complicated, and one of the best complexities of it is that they often enable and feed off of each other's trauma. The pre-canon status quo is a situation where Kaz and Jesper are, in many ways, using and abusing each other as a way of avoiding dealing with their own trauma. It's a fascinating push-and-pull dynamic because neither of them are pushovers and yet neither one is particularly interested in facing their Issues™ head-on, and they both seemingly recognize that in each other and give each other an uncharacteristic amount of grace in helping the other avoid dealing with it.

In Kaz's case, that most often looks like enabling Jesper's gambling addiction and then repeatedly bailing him out of trouble under the justification of "he's loyal and competent, it would be wasteful to let the other gangs kill him." In Jesper's case, this looks like ignoring Kaz's countless and extremely obvious issues in favor of playing the loyal second. Basically, it's not just Kaz enabling Jesper's gambling addiction; it's also Jesper enabling Kaz's unhinged ruthlessness with little pushback other than a few snarky comments.

They also project a lot of their own issues onto each other! Kaz pushes Jesper away in part because he's projecting the grief and blame he feels over Jordie's death onto Jesper, but Jesper is using Kaz's ruthless pragmatism to escape the crippling disappointment of returning home to face his father's judgement for being a college drop-out, gambling addict, and gang member. And Kaz withholds praise and verbal declarations of trust from Jesper because he hates acknowledging that he cares about people, but Jesper uses Kaz's emotional detachment as a crutch to avoid dealing with his own commitment issues by pining after a boy he knows will never reciprocate his advances. This status quo is, of course, insanely unhealthy for both boys long-term, but where would we be if any of the Crows actually dealt with their issues in a healthy way?

That dynamic, imo, is also only possible because Kaz and Jesper have known each other for longer than anyone else in the main crew; Kaz may have let Inej in further, but he let Jesper in first. As far as we know, Jesper is the first person Kaz genuinely lets past his mile-high walls since Jordie died...but he very deliberately holds him at arms' length in a way that he does not with Inej (something that Jesper notices and is jealous about!). Being "the first" in this case unfortunately comes with a lot of baggage, and Kaz and Jesper would both lowkey rather die than talk about how much they care what the other thinks of them.

Kaz clearly didn't recruit Jesper looking for a friend or someone who reminded him of his dead older brother; he recruited him because he saw someone with a useful skillset who he preferred to be at his side rather than in a rival gang or dead in the canals. It's to Jesper's credit that he managed to break through those walls anyway, but there's only so much he can do in the face of Kaz's armor. And like Inej, Kaz's closed-off personality and actions hurt Jesper repeatedly. But he stays anyway, because he (like Inej) sees the boy underneath the mask that Kaz wears and cares a little too much to let him go:

“He wouldn’t—” Jesper stopped short, and then he laughed. “Of course he would.” Jesper flexed his knuckles, concentrated on the lines of his palms. “Kaz is…I don’t know, he’s like nobody else I’ve ever known. He surprises me.” “Yes. Like a hive of bees in your dresser drawer.” Jesper barked a laugh. “Just like that.” “So what are we doing here?” Jesper turned back to the sea, feeling his cheeks heat. “Hoping for honey, I guess. And praying not to get stung.” Inej bumped her shoulder against his. “Then at least we’re both the same kind of stupid.” “I don’t know what your excuse is, Wraith. I’m the one who can never walk away from a bad hand.” She looped her arm in his. “That makes you a rotten gambler, Jesper. But an excellent friend.” “You’re too good for him, you know.” “I know. So are you." -Ch. 17, Six of Crows

Kaz is unused to verbalizing the trust he places in others and actively in denial about how much he cares about them until Crooked Kingdom; he spends his time deliberately being cruel and pushing people away even as he proves over and over again that he doesn't actually want them to leave him. This casual assholery hits those closest to him (Inej and Jesper) the hardest because they are clearly trusted with his life but not with his heart, and that hurts them both.

For Inej, resolving that behavior looks like giving him an ultimatum ("I will have you without armor or I will not have you at all") and telling herself to walk away unless he meets her challenge. For Jesper? That looks like duking it out on top of the Geldrenner when they're both at rock bottom, because of course that's the only way either one of those boys is ever going to verbalize the tension that underlies their relationship. There's just a lot of baggage and mutual toxicity and unsaid words that neither of them are very interested in dealing with until everything comes to a head during the Clocktower fight.

I think we also forget that the Kaz-Jesper dynamic we see in the majority of the duology is not their normal dynamic: it's how they interact when Kaz is mad at Jesper. And a mad Kaz is, within the scope of canon, a pretty cruel Kaz, which is something that I think a good portion of the fandom likes to handwave away in favor of pointing towards Kaz's active attempts to be better in the back half of the duology.

Ultimately we only see the "normal" Kaz-Jesper dynamic for the first 12 or so chapters of Six of Crows (when the Dock Fight/Eyeball Incident happens) and the last few chapters of Crooked Kingdom. Those chapters are a really interesting look into what that relationship looks like when they're on good terms. It's clear that they're good friends, trust each other a hell of a lot, and joke around with each other quite a bit (the "saves ammo" joke in the parley chapter, their interactions during the Hellgate breakout, the "man with a knife!" "man with a gun!" exchange immediately after Kaz throws Oomen overboard, etc), but we also see the stress points: Jesper getting mad at Kaz for not telling him about Big Bolliger's betrayal, Kaz sending Wylan with Jesper during the prep chapters to keep an eye on him, and Jesper's bee and honey conversation with Inej on the Ferolind, for example.

These stress points are what fracture and crack in the aftermath of Jesper accidentally alerting the other gangs that they were headed out on the Ice Court Job and nearly causing Inej's death, and further buckle under the stress and pressure that Kaz and Jesper deal with during the following month and a half: the Ice Court job, Van Eck kidnapping Inej on Vellgeluk, Colm showing up in Ketterdam, and the Sugar Silo/Auction scheme.

In this way, I think Kaz enabling Jesper's gambling addiction is less about Kaz being actively cruel towards someone he sees the ghost of his brother in and punishing Jesper for the sins he percieves Jordie to have made (which is also true, and a meta for a different time!) and more about the weird balance of toxic mutual leniency Kaz and Jesper have allowed the other to provide for them for over two years...and how that leniency breaks down once it's not just Kaz's life or time on the line when Jesper fucks up.

Put more succinctly: for a long time, Kaz and Jesper existed in a toxic balance of enabling each others' worst impulses and behaviors, which was only able to be verbally addressed when they were both at rock bottom, desperate, and seemingly had very little left to lose. This conflict is somewhat addressed and resolved in the conversation where Kaz refuses to give Jesper the last of the parem and offers up a tiny bit of information about Jordie—showcasing his own growth and how he's finally trying to break the cycle by refusing to enable Jesper's self-destructive tendencies—but that level of tension is unable to be properly resolved in one single blowout argument. And I think it's deliberately left a bit unfinished because neither of them are really in a place where they're ready to address everything they've left unsaid for so long, even in the epilogue chapters.

However, we do see the beginnings of that reconcilitaion (Kaz asking Inej to tell Jesper that he's "missed around the Slat") and the story ends on a hopeful note regarding Kaz's commitment to removing his armor, which implies a lot about the resolution of that dangling thread. And of course, we know that by Rule of Wolves they're back to being thick as thieves and fucking around as usual, so clearly they hashed it out at some point in the in-between (and personally? I don't think it took either of them very long after the CK epilogue chapters to do that hashing out).

tl;dr: I love it when two traumatized and emotionally constipated teenage boys use each other to avoid facing their own personal problems and then get into a fistfight to avoid talking about how much they care about each other. Top-tier dynamic. Chef's kiss. I could talk about them for hours.

#also thank you so much for the ask and kind words #I hope this meta did your question justice and makes up for the fact that I didn't answer it for so long #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc meta #asks #long post #(very long post; rip and sorry for not using a read more but it didn't quite fit anywhere)#queue

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sixofcrowdaydreams · 2 months

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Six of Crows Russian Edition

Today I found this gorgeous gem at the bookstore!

So a few years ago I moved overseas to live in a Russian speaking country. I am not in Russia, for the record. The national language here is not Russian, but it is commonly spoken in my city.

Today at the bookstore I looked for a copy of Crooked Kingdom for the cast of Shadow and Bone to sign this May when I go to A Storm of Shadows and Crows convention in Paris. I don't own a copy of SOC or KC in English and there's no chance of finding one where I live. The next best option was getting a book in the local language and calling it a souvenir of my time abroad. To my delight I found this lovely Russian edition of Six of Crows!

More stunning artwork below.

There were multiple versions of the books to choose from. The original art and the Netflix artwork were available too. The most impressive part was finding copies of the original covers WITHOUT the Netflix sticker. (Haha, suck it Netflix.) To the right, not pictured were King of Scars and Rule of Wolves.

I've never seen this cover variation before. It was an exciting find!

The Russian version I bought is illustrated by (I assume Russian?) artist Eva Eller.

I didn't see a copy of Crooked Kingdom with illustrations by the same artist at this bookstore, but it must exist. Mine was the last copy of SOC with the Russian artwork. Maybe it was sold out?

Google Translate titles the book Six of Ravens, lol. But that's just a translation error because a little google-foo showed that ворона (pronounced vorona) means crow. Interestingly, while typing the title, I learned that вор (pronounced vor) means thief. Interesting how similar the words crow and thief are in Russian. Checks out.

Above is the art printed on the side of the pages. Love how it still includes the side of the pages colored, just like the original books.

The hardcover underneath the jacket is a crow. It's not the same as pictured on the original CK cover, but it is similar. Love the messy, broken, bent feathers, yet the crow is still able to fly. Metaphor for our six characters? Absolutely!

The book was wrapped in cellophane so I didn't realize there was even more art inside! Here is the inner cover. IT'S BEAUTIFUL! The back is the same. It captures the foggy haze of Ketterdam so well.

The flaps of the book jacket are images from the inner cover. But there's a cracked texture over them that gives it a gorgeous grittiness.

The candle is the left side of the inner book jacket. Sorry the image isn't flat, I didn't want to damage the jacket by straightening it out.

The right side of the book jacket shows all the Crows!

Let's appreciate how Matthias looks snow pale and serious. Inej is taller than Nina -- she must be standing on a step stool. No clue why both of their eyes are closed, especially when Nina is the one pointing to the paper. They are lovely. Kaz has on his scheming face. Jesper is as handsome as every version of him should be. And Wylan looks bored AF because A.) he's already memorized the map he drew or B.) he can't read whatever document Kaz has in front of them. Wait, no, Wylan is making heart eyes at Jesper. All of the above can be true.

Inside is a small illustration at the beginning of each chapter, which changes with each section.

You can also see the Crow's names written in Cyrillic. Inej, Kaz, Nina, and Matthias translate easily. Jesper uses the д (letter D) and ж (pronounced like zhe) letter combination that makes his name sound like Zhesper since there is no J in Cyrillic. It's worth pointing out (again) that Wylan's name does not translate perfectly. There is no W in the Cyrillic alphabet. (As someone who also has a W in their name, I sympathize with Wylan here.) I'm no expert in Russian, but I'm pretty sure -- with the help of google translate -- that Wylan is pronounced as Oo-ai-len. Poor boy can't catch a break.

Each of the five section of the book use different chapter art. They all do an excellent job capturing the atmosphere.

The paper is so thin that you can easily see the printing on the opposite side. Not ideal for an edition that's otherwise this lovely. Oh well.

Given that Ravka is fantasy Russia, it's not a surprise to find the Grisha Verse books in Russian.

I am so excited to bring this book to Paris for the cast to sign!

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone

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lilisouless · 8 months

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the crows preparing themselves for a masquerade

Kaz: very funny guys, now give it to me

Nina: what?

Kaz: you guys got all the crow masks, give one to me

Jesper: why? we got them first

Kaz: yes but the crow is my animal

Inej: you can't own an animal

Jesper: besides , we are all the crows aren't we?

Kaz: says who? i don't recall we calling ourselves "the crows" on the books

Matthias: books?

Kaz: the books of records of the jobs, Helvar

Nina: but they do call us like that on the show

Matthias: show?

Wylan: the show we put on that time , remember? with the theater comunity

Jesper: also by this point all of our fans call us like that

Matthias: fans?

Inej: the fans of that show we put on , Matthias please be serious

Nina: yeah, we are trying so hard to not break the fourth wall here. That wall over there, its very bad constructed , don't lean on it

Matthias: why would there be...i am sorry but i feel like there is something of a joke going on and i am not following

Jesper: yeah, this started out about the masquarades but it got too meta...

Matthias: meta?

Inej: matthias, stop doing that! also this is just a joke...the situation we are in right now its like a joke, if we really were following book canon you´ll be dead

Matthias: WHAT?!

Nina: the cannons Matthias, the cannons of the navigation books , you´ll be dead if you try to fight them

Matthias: WHAT DID THAT HAD TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!

#netflix shadow and bone #six of crows #leigh bardugo #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kaz brekker #nina zenik #inej ghafa #matthias helvar #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #btw if the crows are actually called the crows on the books let me know #grishaverse shitpost #six of crows shitpost #sab shitpost

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midnight-rain-fics · 1 year

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Willow

{Part 1 - Hoax}

{Fandom: Grishaverse}

{Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader}

Summary: Y/N and Kaz have been tip toeing around each other for a while now. Will jealousy be the final push that leads to a confession or is it heartbreak that’s waiting on the other side?

“You know that my train could take you home

Anywhere else is hollow

I'm begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans, that's my man”

Love was a cheap word in the barrel.

Love wasn't some prince coming to save you on a white horse or wake you from a terrible nightmare with a kiss.

Love in the barrel was found at the bottom of a whiskey bottle or at the tables with cards in hand. Love was losing yourself, slowly but surely or quickly and in one go.

But that's all it was.

A distraction. An escape.

But it never lasted. It wasn't meant to.

Y/N never thought she would end up loving someone, especially not in the Barrel. Love had been a hard pill to swallow, especially considering who she loved.

But she was stubborn. And she knew what she wanted. And if there's one thing she knew, love would never be a regret.

She would not let it be.

"Y/N, with me" The cold rasp of his voice still sent shivers down her spine.

Y/N huffed and stood up from the chair she was sitting on, she bid Jesper farewell, and grabbed her jacket, making her way towards Kaz.

"If it isn't the boy who doesn't like cookies" Y/N mumbled under her breath, fixing the sleeves of her jacket.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

The look that Kaz gave her told her he knew exactly what she had said. But he chose to not say anything. They walked side by side and made their way to the docks.

There weren't any ships docked at the harbour and no one seemed to be around this late in the evening.

The silence was as heavy as the mist surrounding the harbour but Y/N wasn't going to break it. She wanted -needed- him to say something.

Kaz cleared his throat, gaining her attention as they came to a stop, "The cookies were good"

"I thought my baking was aptly edible"

"You must have known it was more than that"

Y/N shook her head and chuckled, pinching the bridge of her nose, "why do you always do this, Kaz?"

"What have I done to displease you now?" Kaz's voice echoed in the silence around them, his eyes on the sea.

He could not bear to look at her. Not when she looked at him like that. He had no right to return that look, to look into her eyes and lose himself, slowly but surely.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, it was now or never, "I've never known you to be someone who bites his tongue in front of people so why can't you say what you what to say?"

Kaz looked at her, his heart thundering in his chest as he finally met her eyes. There was an accusation in them that was pushing past his walls, urging him to answer; to let her in.

But he knew he couldn't. He did not want her to find what lay hidden behind his walls. Damage. So much damage.

No one could look past that. No one should. Especially not Y/N.

But Y/N was nothing if not unbelievably stubborn.

Kaz took a step closer to her, eyebrow raised as his eyes narrowed, "What is it you think that I want to say, Y/N?"

Y/N scowled, crossing her arms over her chest, "Don't play this game with me, Brekker"

"Resorting to last names, are we L/N?"

"I swear to saints, Kaz- "

"You don't want this, Y/N" Kaz clenched his jaw, his eyes glaring daggers into her own.

"You of all people don't get to tell me what I do or don't want, Kaz"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it's supposed to mean"

"No, I don't" Kaz’s gaze hardened, hand clenching on the crow-headed cane, "so, why don't you enlighten me?”

Y/N found it harder to breathe with the tension that swirled in the air around them.

She sighed and steeled her spine. She couldn’t back down, not now, “you don't even know what you want, Kaz. You shouldn’t be telling me what I want"

"You don't know me as well as you think you do, Y/N"

"On the contrary, I have you all figured out"

"Don't be a brat, Y/N"

“Don’t be an asshole, Kaz”

Y/N could see Kaz’s knuckles had turned almost white from how tightly he was gripping his cane, grasping for whatever control he could find.

Too bad. There was no control in this situation. Only the slow unravelling of whatever had been brewing between them.

"What are you so stubborn?" Kaz gritted out, a blazing inferno of anger accompanying his tone. But at who? He couldn’t quite tell himself.

Y/N would be his ruination. He had known it from the day she had stepped into his office and his heart had given that first traitorous tug.

He had spent days trying to avoid her just so he wouldn’t have to feel, but like the stubborn person she was, she had been consistent in her approach.

He had let her in, before he even knew what that feeling in his chest was, what the constant pounding of his heart meant every time she was near.

He had let her in and she had seen the damage. And she stayed, despite his best efforts to drive her out.

Stubborn. So stubborn. Stupidly stubborn.

"I think it's a rather charming quality of mine" Y/N’s lips tugged up in a grin as she noticed the resignation starting to form in his eyes.

A scowl lined Kaz’s handsome face, "Annoying more like"

Y/N gestured between them with a smug air of satisfaction, "Pot meet kettle"

A quiet sigh escaped Kaz’s lips and his eyes lost some of their previous hardness. He took a step closer to Y/N, the air around them was slightly cold with mist, "I can't give you what you want, darling"

The nickname made her heart lurch but Y/N crossed her arms, standing her ground, "What do you think I want?"

"I can't touch you" The words were poison on Kaz’s tongue but he needed to get them out. He had to say what she couldn’t. What she wouldn’t.

"I don't need you to" the surety in Y/N’s voice was baffling to Kaz. She looked up at him with so much warmth it made his heartache, "I just want you. Even with the gloves and a thousand layers between us, I'd still want you"

"Y/N-"

Y/N cut him off, glaring at him, "I could find a hundred guys who could touch me, Kaz but I can't find another guy who knows me as you do"

“Would it be enough?”

"You've ruined me for anyone else. It has to be enough” The admission stole the breath out of Kaz’s lungs. Even in her most vulnerable moment, Y/N stood tall and proud. As if the very words she had spoken were nothing short of sacred.

Kaz’s throat bobbled as he looked into her eyes, the ground might have very well swept from under his feet and her gaze alone would have anchored him.

"That was never my intention" His voice was a whisper in the mist that surrounded them. Cold and quiet. And so fragile.

Y/N’s lips tugged up in a small smile, a touch melancholic, "I know"

A knife twisting in his chest and oils have hurt less than the sadness in her smile. What was he to do now? He had no words to comfort her, no touches to bring her surety.

“It will get better. It will… I will get better....with time”

Y/N bit her lip as her smile turned wider, “I know, Kaz”

They will be fine. She knew that. She always had. Kaz had just taken his sweet time getting there. And he still had a long way to go if the uncertainty in his shoulders was anything to go by.

"Y/N, the barrel is cruel and has no place for love but if there's one thing I can promise you, I would never let anyone hurt you" Y/N smiled, those words from Kaz Brekker were equivalent of a love confession. And the closest one she was getting from him now.

"You couldn't just say I like you too like a normal person, could you?"

Kaz raised an eyebrow, his heart settling down at seeing her smile so freely, "Would a normal person be able to do this?"

Y/N watched as Kaz touched the sleeve of her jacket, being cautious not to touch her skin and raising the sleeve slightly.

Her eyes widened as she noticed the emerald bracelet on her wrist, "How did you-When did you even get this?"

Kaz smirked and took a step back, putting some much needed distance between them. He watched Y/N run a finger over the emeralds. The blush covering the apples of her cheeks was as delectable as always.

Kaz cleared his throat and took out his pocket watch, checking the time, "Let's go, we'll be late for our reservation"

"What reservation?"

"Our reservation for dinner" Kaz’s smirk turned sharper as he looked at the confused furrow between her eyebrows, wanting nothing more than to smooth it over. Maybe he will, one day. "It's a date"

"A what now?"

"And you say I am the one terrible at communication”

#six of crows x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker imagine

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grimbanes · 1 year

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Six Months (Kaz Brekker x GN!HEALER! Reader)

Summary: “Kaz Brekker, I have seen you run with a broken leg, heard you scaled a building with a bullet lodged in your shoulder that I had to fix and you’ve concussed yourself numerous times with every nose you break- and now you’re telling me you can’t stomach a papercut?” OR : Kaz Brekker is sometimes a quiet softie if it means coming to see the reader, even in life or death situations. It takes the reader six months of service to realize they may or may not love him with their whole heart, and confession ensues.

WC: 3.8k.

Genre: Mostly fluff, maybe slightly ooc kaz?

TW: mentions of blood, usual six of crows warnings, injuries.

A/N: maybe a second part to yesterdays fic which you can read here, or just read this one as a stand-alone. The POVs have changed, i fancied writing something a little different, more personal to the ~feelings~.

It had been three months since you had the unfortunate task of bringing the Bastard of the Barrel back from the brink of death, though you were sure the stubborn young man would have crawled away from the reaper’s grips with a smirk on his face and blood seeping from every crevice - he was certainly stubborn enough to do the impossible. ‘Improbable’, you could practically hear him correct, eyes expectant of better and eyebrows raised in that condescending way he often did when he was the smartest in the room.

It had been three months, you realised silently, still scratching away at the parchment you were writing on, ink drying on its smooth surface. Months under the protection of the Dregs. You didn’t join them, that was not an option you ever considered accepting. A life of crime was no different from serving the Second Army, only your General would be well-dressed for the sheer sake of mocking the rich. In that time, you had countless trips to the Crow Club and the Slat, tending to the wounded whenever summoned.

It was a simple agreement - protection and space to live on Dreg territory in return for mending their wounded whenever jobs turned sour or confrontation reached a violent conclusion.

You knew that the small flat you were given to live in above a little dress shop was not just for your protection, even if on Dreg territory. No, it was to make calling on you easier. Kaz Brekker could keep his second pair of eyes on you at all times. You knew you did not really have any privacy anymore, doomed to only socialize with Dregs or Dregs associates so really, you chose to keep to yourself.

Even when a certain Dreg rolled his way into your life, grinning wide and fingers held in the shape of his favourite tool.

Jesper Fahey adopted you as a friend and you were almost certain he was told to do so. To keep an eye on you, or maybe keep you safe. Both options were viable but fortunately, you were not a mastermind and you didn’t care to be one.

So when you received a knock at your door, you fully expected one of their young runners to be on the other side, note in hand with a little Crow etched on it. You knew why it was a Crow, just didn’t care to invest your life into it fully. You set your pen aside and dusted your hands off on your apron, carefully stepping up from your makeshift table and taking steps towards the rickety door barely hanging onto its rusted hinges.

You opened the door, opening your mouth to greet the usual young boy who gave you your summons, only for no greeting to roll off of your tongue.

In front of you, Dirtyhands himself towered. His gloved hands remained gripped to his cane, jaw tight and eyes a calm ocean, staring at you without the usual expectancy. Instead, he seemed almost relaxed, confident arrogance that often dripped from his well dressed frame present as always. He donned his long black coat, the collar turned up at the nape and shape fitting his figure as perfectly as usual.

Assessing the situation, you accepted it but that nagging feeling of oh no sat in the pit of your stomach. You had to be cautious - Why was he on your doorstep?

“Your services are required,” Kaz’s voice spoke in his quiet, rasping yet commanding volume, business as usual. Impatient.

“Of course, Mister Brekker. Let me grab my things,” You stepped away from the door, leaving it open for the man to enter if he so wished. It wasn’t much, your humble abode. Just a small bed tucked into a corner, a sad excuse for a clothing dresser and a makeshift table against the window with an old, collapsing stool for a seat. But it was enough for you, and you knew Kaz was used to such things, preferring it to the luxuries of Merchers and nobles.

You paid him little attention as you turned to close the ledger from your day job, pen set into ink but you did note that he took off his hat as he entered, closing the door behind him with a small click and stepped his way to the small chair you had in the other corner beside a kitchen counter, making himself comfortable with his bad leg stretched out a little more than the other. He held his cane between his legs on the ground, fingers clasped to it tightly.

“Who got hurt this time?” You asked absentmindedly, a wicker basket set on top of your desk as you glanced to his still frame, his eyes already trained on you.

“Me,” Brekker answered, shifting in his seat and setting his hat aside on the counter beside him, hand falling to touch his leg and you sighed, but the small smile on your face betrayed the exasperation you felt.

“I didn’t figure you so clumsy, sir,” You subtly teased, stepping from your table once you realised you did not need to pack anything due to the fact you would not be leaving your home. You stepped to him, shirt sleeve rolled to your forearm and fingers rubbing together, hoping to remove the cold from them that your small little home often left.

The Dregs leader eyed you, unable to keep perfectly still, setting his cane down to lean against the wall and slowly began to bring his fingers to unbutton his glove. You could only watch with well masked surprise, the young man pulling at each finger until it was loose and he pried it off, offering you his slightly shaking hand, a frown pulling at his lips.

“It's uncomfortable to work like this. Fix it,” He ordered, turning his hand palm up and you studied his hand for any injury, unable to see one.

As your eyes traced his pale, near luminescent skin, you came to stop upon a little slit in the skin of his index finger, from one side to the other and you fully understood what Kaz Brekker was asking of you. Please heal my papercut, it's annoying me. You didn’t laugh, but by the Saints did you want to. You stifled it and slowly, brought your eyes up to meet his own, noting the calmness of the ones staring at you even with the unsteady tremble in his fingers, the light sheen of nervousness painting his skin and you couldn’t help but feel a little endeared.

“You could have shot yourself in the foot if you wanted to come see me so badly,” You teased gently, just like you often found yourself doing with him. He never replied to them usually, and only once did he ever roll his eyes at you. He just stared, lips pressed into a line and sometimes he hummed with a quirk of his brow. This time was different, the threat of a smile daring to pull at his sharp features and it felt more dangerous than facing a Dime Lion, you were convinced. You didn’t know how to handle Kaz Brekker smiling at you.

“I couldn’t risk not being able to use the other leg too,” Kaz steadily jested, wit rolling from his tongue in a way he never did, the humour in his voice often only present when he was with his Crows and mocking Jesper, eyes twinkling with mirth and you almost swore you could taste your heart on your tongue, between your teeth.

He didn’t even deny wanting to come see you.

“Kaz Brekker, I have seen you run with a broken leg, heard that you scaled a building with a bullet lodged in your shoulder that I had to fix and you’ve concussed yourself numerous times with every nose you break- and now you’re telling me you can’t stomach a papercut?” You exasperated, shaking your head despite the unsteady rhythm in your chest, unable to see the usual murderous bastard in Kaz’s face, daring to see a young man with an unfair amount of weight on his shoulders and that was a scary thought. Horrifying, even. You needed your morals, even in Ketterdam.

Brekker didn’t answer you to start with, just pursed his lips and his finger twitched a little, the rest of his fingers curling to his palm and just leaving his little wound out to you, eyes locked on it himself. It took him a moment but then he opened his mouth, words leaving you with a revelation;

“I don’t like the feeling of it.”

You didn’t quite know how to feel about it and even though it would normally be just a casual statement, it felt a little heavier, like it was harder for him to admit that something unsettled him so much that he had to seek out someone with the Small Science. You decided not to pry, not to tease, only to touch your hands together and then reach your hand out, ghosting the tips of two fingers over the little knick on his finger. It took mere seconds and the cut was gone but Kaz still trembled beneath the ministrations, nostrils flared with an uncomfortable exhale and you didn’t even want to know why he was so quiet.

“There we go, all better, as if it never happened,” You spoke carefully, drawing his eyes back to yours and you knew you would take this little moment to the grave with you, your little secret. You would never tell a soul that Kaz Brekker did not like paper cuts.

Except, Kaz didn’t stand to leave. He didn’t pull his glove back on, didn’t grab his cane. Instead, he got more comfortable in the little seat and rested his bare hand against his bad leg, eyes on you and that dangerous smile once again threatening his lips, meeting his eyes so subtly and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him.

“Become one of my Crows,” It wasn’t a question, it was an order.

You shook your head, lowering yourself into a crouch in front of him and tapping your fingertips together, you did your best to help ease the pain of his leg, hands hovering over his knee but never touching. You never touched him, if you could help it. You weren’t a heartrender, you couldn’t soothe his heartbeat or ease his mind, but you could numb it enough that the walk home wasn’t so miserable.

“I won’t,” You answered, knowing full well that becoming a Crow meant joining the Dregs, meant that you’d be a grunt, you’d do small jobs, risk your life, even take them. You didn’t want that. As much as you came to adore Brekker’s little quirks, the silent glances of communication, teasing the man and him letting you get away with it, the beginnings of a friendship forming, the way your heart lurched when you heard the uneven tapping of his cane against the floorboards, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You had loyalties to yourself, after all.

“You will, eventually,” He mumbled, leaning back in the seat and never once taking his eyes off of your form, his head tilted ever so slightly. Even in this lighting, midday painting him in golden, he was as handsome as the night he had almost bled out under your care. You didn’t know how he managed it, knowing full well he didn’t eat full meals or hydrate as much as he should, and didn't sleep nearly enough.

“Mister Brekker, you’d have to be on your deathbed for that to even be a consideration.”

You didn’t know how right you were.

┕━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

“Y/N! Quickly!” Jesper’s voice rang out, cracking, bringing your attention away from the printing press in front of you and with confusion, you tossed away your the paper in your hand and heard your own boots clicking and clacking against the stone floor before you even realised you were rushing out of the shop, job forgotten and keeping pace behind the sharpshooter.

You didn’t know what was wrong, you just knew that you were needed. Four months under the Dregs protection, you felt more like their protector or caretaker, tending to the wounded and keeping them fed. It was the first time somebody had come to you on shift, in your shop, dragging you away from the thing that paid your rent and kept your own stomach full. You didn’t know when you became so loyal to them, to him, but you did and couldn’t change that.

So you ran, you ran faster than you ever had. You felt your clothes carry the wind, your hair pushed back from your face and the bitter chill of the Barrel on your skin as your chest heaved, legs carrying you as fast as possible as you went through alleys, down streets, pushing past as many people as you needed. Dread kept your legs from getting tired, pure adrenaline keeping your lungs full of air and you knew, you just knew. Kaz.

Saints, you couldn’t handle knowing you cared so much about one person.

You didn’t notice when you had overtaken Jesper, throwing the side door to the Slat open and pulling off your apron and desperately scanning your surroundings. You didn’t care about anything else, you just met the eyes that stared back at you, filling the room with a bit more ease.

“Y/N-” Wylan.

“Where is he?”

“His room-” Inej.

You didn’t listen to anything else, taking off up the steps and you threw yourself into the attic room. With hardly a breath, you dropped to your knees where he lay on the bed, pale as death could be and you cussed to yourself. You weren’t going to let him die. You stopped it happening once and you would do it again and again and again if it meant you could see that stupid boyish smile on his lips and hear a mean jest rolling off his tongue again. You worked too hard for it all to go to waste.

“You’re stuck with me I’m afraid, Brekker. You’re not going anywhere,” You told him, earning yourself a grunt and his head turned, dropping heavily to one side and his eyes stared at you. Even he looked relieved. You didn’t even think to ponder on what that meant.

Setting to work quickly, you healed the artery that had been cut, apron pressed to him to keep as much blood in his system as possible as you worked at sealing it, stitching the wound with your grisha power. The short time you’d cared for the Dregs, you had gotten stronger, better with your power. Things like this didn’t take as long as it used to, didn’t take as much energy out of you. You knew Kaz would live but it didn’t make it any less stressful to see him like that. And you didn’t want to ever again, you never wanted to see death try to pull him out of your life just as you had gotten used to him in it.

“My Crow,” He uttered, rasping and breathless, the hint of teasing a whisper on his breath and you resigned yourself, eyes scanning his relaxing features and you nodded, never touching him. You were finished. He was fine. He was alive, sitting up against the wall and staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yes, Kaz. It seems to be that way. The deal is the deal, after all,” You pressed your lips into a small smile, submitting yourself to the reality that you had found yourself in. It seemed your morals could be set aside if it meant keeping this criminal’s unsavoury heart beating in his chest.

And maybe, just maybe, Kaz was keeping yours beating irrevocably fast too.

┕━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

At six months, you were a Crow, but not a Dreg. You didn’t join the gang, only really spending your time with a close inner circle or drinking by yourself after a long shift at the printing press. At six months, you were seated at the bar of the Crow Club, sipping your drink and enjoying the busy ruckus as men gambled their life savings right away.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Jesper sang, leaning over the bar beside you and grinning ear to ear, whiskey in hand and pockets stuffed with kruge. You could practically smell it on him - the money and the victory. You laughed softly, tipping your glass to him and then taking a sip, you turned your barstool towards him and gave him your full, undivided attention.

“Good night?” You asked, even though you knew damn well he had a good night. He looked ready to shoot the moon.

“Fantastic,” He answered, head tilting and cheeks splitting as he grinned wider; Jesper’s ringed fingers tapped against his dimpled cheeks, eyes watching you as they did when he was about to say something that he absolutely shouldn’t say. “How’s the boss?”

You should have expected it, really. That was the reason you were there in the first place. Your face began to turn many shades of magenta, you were sure. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you cleared your throat and stabilised yourself, sitting up straighter and doing your best to return the young man’s cheeky smile.

“I’m sure he’s fine, you would know you’ve been here all day,” You answered, leaning into the palm of your hand. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears with just the mere idea of him, his name not even having been spoken yet. Pathetic.

“And your eyes have been on him since the moment you practically ran through our front door,” Jesper shot back, chin jutting to where said young man had exited his office and was stepping down the small staircase that lead to the office, uneven gait leaned on his cane and he made his way to his usual perch near the bar, arm leaning against the railing with eyes locked on the floor - it was heartbreakingly charming to you, the fact he wore his usual attire of waistcoat and fancy tailored shirt, looking every part Kaz Brekker and it almost hurt to look at him.

“Just making sure he’s alive. He’s been clumsy as of late,” You mumbled the excuse into the rim of your glass, sipping your drink but your eyes stayed on him. It wasn’t necessarily a lie but you knew it was foolish. Kaz Brekker was a criminal of the cruellest kind, had done unspeakable things to those deserving and undeserving and yet there you were, afraid to blink for fear he would disappear before your very eyes. The sole reason you choose to accept a life of crime and fix the worst kinds of people, those that didn’t always deserve to be fixed. Him included. But he deserved it.

“He’s not going anywhere any time soon, doll. He might be as fragile, but he’s smarter than that,” Jesper nudged you with his shoulder, hands smoothing over your tensed fist on the surface of the bar and you turned to look at him, not even realising your own rigidness. You were grateful you had him to call a friend, always grounding you despite his antics.

“I just don’t understand why I have all these… feelings,” You admitted aloud, turning your hand up in his to press your palms together. He tutted, shaking his head and tapping his fingers against your wrist, he offered the most eye opening fact you had ever heard in your many years of living;

“Love makes us into many things, sometimes better, many times worse. I know it makes him worse; a coward, a liar, sometimes a bit self absorbed, full of greed, selfish, but he could be so much worse,” Jesper offered, a kinder smile on his face as he leaned in to usher the words without prying ears.

You loved Kaz and you probably knew it. You probably thought about it every day when you woke up, when someone checked the time on their pocket watch, when someone handed you a kruge. You probably fell asleep thinking about it and yet it took a close friend to lay it out in front of you just what it was that kept you wanting to be near him, make sure he never cut his finger on a piece of parchment again, to heal his split lip and bruised knuckles.

It was easily the most terrifying thing you had ever done: falling in love with a crime boss was not something fun, easy, or relaxing. It was that danger that you saw whenever the man smiled, the horror whenever he cast a joke or brushed his gloved fingers against your hand when he passed you, the glance he threw your way from across the busy room, the warnings that screamed at you when he leaned a little too close to you when you were mending flesh. It was the liability that caused you to keep your eyes on him at all times, making sure he was breathing. Attachment. Investment. Attraction. Commitment. All words that came to mind when you considered your relationship with Ketterdam’s, maybe even the world’s, most menacing, volatile, impatient and undoubtedly violent criminal.

“Jesper, if I catch you flirting one more time…” The man’s voice carried weight, trailing with a silent threat and you realised that the very man tipping your world on its axis was towering over the pair of you, shoulders squared, jaw taut and eyes blazing with something unspoken.

“No, Kaz, it's okay. He wasn’t flirting he was just-”

The man silenced you with a tilt of his head and the raising of a single dark brow.

“Right boss, sorry boss. Should I just- Yeah let me just, yeah. Enjoy your night, I’m going to go do my job,” Jesper patted the bar, then the stool, awkwardly bowing and pointing, smile on his face and a wink thrown your way before he was spinning on his heel, arms wide as he cheered a greeting towards the door, sauntering his way to actually do what he was paid for.

Your attention was brought back to Kaz as the man slid into the very same seat he had just dismissed his friend from, cane set between the two of you and drink ordered, gloved hands folded on the surface of the bar. He didn’t turn his body towards you, but his eyes were on you, like always, a question swirling in his irises.

“You and Jesper…?” He seemed to trail off, finger tapping impatiently on his arm, gloved and tensed in his shoulders even as he swallowed thickly, mouth pulled down into a line.

“No,” You shook your head, turning your body away from him and towards the bar, sipping your drink with your heart pounding in your chest.

“You and… anyone?” He asked a little more quietly, eyes on his own drink as he swirled it in steady circles, the amber liquid sloshing at the bottom of the glass.

“No, Kaz. Just you,” You answered honestly.

Kaz Brekker remained silent, only nodding, bringing his drink to his lips and sipping it. No other words needed to be exchanged, and only you caught the ghost of a smile on the corners of his vile, cursed mouth.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker #six of crows

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auroravictorium · 1 year

Text

lavender haze (k.b.)

Summary: when the reader is injured and kaz kills someone for them (oops), they come to a realization of their feelings.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker and reader Word Count: ~1.8k Warnings: mild violence (stabbing, mentions of gunshots, physical fighting), blood, mentions of death Genre: a bit of angst, but with a fluffy ending

Author's Note: this is part of the midnights saga (inspired by taylor swift's midnights ofc) but can be read as a oneshot or as part of the series once i've written more :)) send me requests for kaz if you so desire. only 54 days until season two of sab releases let's goooooo

“This was not the plan,” you shouted to Jesper, dodging a fist hurtling toward your face. Your muscles burned with exertion, and your skin ached with bruises from being shoved down the stairs by the targets who somehow knew you were coming. It wasn't your most graceful moment, getting pushed down hard, splintered wooden stairs. You landed at a guard's feet, to boot. An excellent start to what seemed like such an easy heist: get in, grab the rolled-up canvases of forged paintings and get out and back to the Slat before anyone could notice anything amiss.

"I think I know that," he snapped back, ripping his pistol from its holster and using it to bash his attacker in the head. The guard groaned and slumped to the wooden floor, dazed. Jesper took the chance to aim his pistol at the man trying to lock you in a chokehold. "Can you get him to stop moving?"

"I'm going to kill you if you shoot me," you snarled, bringing your knee to the man's gut and bashing his temple with your pistol. He crumpled, and you kicked the man's chest once he was on the ground. It seemed fair after shoving you down the stairs and possibly breaking your ribs. It ached horribly to breathe, and your wrist throbbed when you flexed it. Sprained, no doubt. There was no time to worry about that because another idiotic guard thundered down the stairs right toward you with two lackeys behind him.

Where were Inej, Kaz, and Nina?

You pulled the trigger on your pistol, taking a nonlethal shot at the first guard's thigh, sending him tumbling down the stairs with a shriek. See? That's how it feels, asshole.

Jesper handled the second one, and you went for the third, going for the arm this time. He howled in pain and clutched his arm, nearly tripping over his feet.

"Where's-?" you began, then your hair prickled on the back of your neck. Spinning around, you were greeted with a bash to the face. You collapsed to the ground, and your head hit the floor with an impact that rattled your teeth. You gasped for air, and black spots danced across your vision. The world spun too fast on its axis. Nothing was in focus. Distantly, Jesper shouted. You thought he was fighting the man who hit you.

Pain blossomed between your ribs, and you screamed. The world snapped sharply back into focus long enough to glimpse your attacker's face, concealed by a black scarf wrapped tightly around his head. His eyes were black as coal and filled with pure rage as he stabbed you, twisting the blade to inflict as much damage as possible.

You sobbed as he pulled the dagger free. Something sharp and metallic was bubbling in your throat, threatening to choke you. It bubbled out of your lips, painting them red and sliding down your cheek. The world around you disappeared, and you floated on nothing.

People talked, there was shouting, then more burning on your chest. Someone apologizing. A hand pressed between your ribs over your wound.

"No more," you thought you said. "Please."

You were dying. You could recognize that much.

As the chains of death fastened themselves around your wrists, cold metal biting your feverish skin, you thought of Kaz. His piercing blue eyes, how his coat looked against his pale skin, the way he brushed his fingers through his hair as he concocted heists. How he said your name so softly that you wondered if he felt the same way you did about him. Fluttery, light, hoping to give him a smile and have him smile back. All you wanted was a smile from Kaz, even if he didn't feel that same fluttering as your eyes caught.

Now you wouldn't even get that.

The world disappeared.

And then it came back.

You woke with dry lips and a pounding head. Your throat burned from a lack of water, and everything around you was blurry from unconsciousness.

You looked around at your room in the Slat. How did I get here? Shouldn't I be greeting the Saints now, not feeling like shit with water leaking from the roof onto my head?

Someone leaned forward in a creaky chair beside you, and you saw his cane before you saw him. He was sitting in a chair haphazardly shoved in the corner. It hadn't been there before you'd died, nor had Kaz. He'd never even been in your room before.

"Hi," you rasped. Internally, you winced. Hi? That's the best you could say? You died while thinking of him, and you can only muster 'hi?' Maybe you could be stabbed again and start this over.

Kaz looked you over, his face carefully arranged into a mask of neutrality. But his hair was greasy and falling into his eyes, and he had dark shadows under his eyes that made him look like he'd been punched in the face. "How are you feeling?" His voice was almost just as blank as his face. But underneath his words was.. concern. He was worried. About you.

Where the hell had you gone after you died? In what world did Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, show any emotion?

"Am I dead?" you asked him. You experimentally tried to sit up, but your chest screamed at you in pain, and Kaz's cane shot out. The tip pressed against the wall beside your bed, and you were blocked from getting up.

Kaz was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, "What were you thinking? Why did you try to take all of them at once?"

"Jesper and I had it handled." Your throat throbbed, and Kaz seemed to realize that speaking was difficult. He held out a glass of water, and you lifted your head. Carefully, he tipped some of the liquid down your throat. You swallowed and sighed in relief.

"You nearly died," Kaz said. He placed the glass of water on the ground and stood, removing the cane from where it blocked you and thumping it against the floorboards. "It was reckless." His voice was lined with anger.

Anger sparked in your chest. "I woke up after being out for?"

"Three days," Kaz gritted out, whirling to face you. His eyes were ablaze, and you nearly shrunk under that look. It was so unlike him, usually so cold and stoic, that having that emotion directed at you was startling. But you didn't back down and forced yourself into a sitting position despite the searing pain and stiff bandages around your chest.

"Three days, and the first thing you do is decide to yell at me? I'm sorry I almost died, but I would appreciate it if you could wait to lecture me until I'm not about to keel over from pain."

His jaw flexed. He was furious. Much more than you realized. His eyes closed, and his chest expanded and contracted as he took a deep breath. "You nearly died," he said again. His voice was calmer now, and you found yourself softening. "When Inej and I found you nearly bleeding out while Jesper tried to stem the blood, I wanted to kill the person who did this to you." He inhaled again and turned his back to you.

He was silent for a few long moments. "Kaz?" you whispered. He was within your reach but felt so far away. Especially since he didn't like to be touched, and you didn't dare push that boundary to get his attention.

"I did," he admitted. "While Nina worked on you, Jesper and I followed him, and I killed him."

You didn't prompt him to continue this time. He so rarely shared his thoughts. You didn't want to ruin this.

"Killing him didn't keep you from nearly dying," he said quietly. "Your heart stopped. I thought I'd never..." The words died in his throat.

Your hand twitched with the urge to reach out to him. He was trying to say what he felt, but Kaz Brekker wasn't good with emotions. He hadn't been since he nearly drowned in the harbor.

"You said my name while you slept," he said roughly. He turned back to face her, his blue eyes on fire with something you struggled to identify immediately. Later, you recognized it as desperation.

He needed you to say it. He worked so hard to keep all his emotions beneath the surface that they refused to come to him when he called. He felt them all, burning beneath his skin, pleading to be shared, only to disappear when summoned.

You didn't struggle as intensely. "I thought of you when I was dying," you breathed. The words were quiet, shy. Almost ashamed that you hadn't thought of someone else, like your best friend from home. "I thought of you smiling."

Kaz nearly laughed out of sheer amazement. "You've never seen me smile."

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands. "But I want to. And I thought I would die without seeing it at least once."

The room was so silent your ears almost started ringing. Then the floorboards creaked, and Kaz sat in the chair beside your bed again. You exhaled slowly, relieved that he didn't open the door and disappear. It was the worst-case scenario that had haunted your dreams. But he hadn't, and he was back beside you again. It was closer than you'd ever expected to be to him.

"Don't die on me again, and maybe you will see it," he said. He rested his cane against the wall and stretched out his legs. Behind his words was relief. You understood what he was trying to say and felt the same, and you were alive. He had the chance to say this to you. For the first time in a long time, Kaz found himself nearly thanking the Saints.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you looked over and met his eyes. A silent understanding passed between you, and his lip quirked up in the corners, ever-so-slightly. You smiled back and looked down at your hands.

You were on the precipice of something new. It was something you'd wanted for so long that you couldn't believe this was real.

"I'm still going to lecture you for almost dying," Kaz said, breaking the silence. He looked at you seriously, but a glimmer of something danced in his eyes. Despite the threat, you couldn't help but wheeze a quiet laugh.

"I expect nothing less, Boss."

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drinkcrywrite · 1 year

Photo

Texts From The Crows 1/?

ID under cut

[image description: 9 large blended gifs of the Crows from Shadow and Bone. Each gif is a blend of 2 other gifs and are coloured bright green and pink.

Gif 1: A gif of Jesper when he first re-meets Wylan. Jesper tilts his head mockingly at Wylan. This gif is coloured pink. Blended over the left side of Jesper's face is Wylan in his workshop, wearing his goggles on the top of his head as he answers one of Kaz's questions. This gif is coloured green. A grey text bubble comes from Jesper, reading "safety goggles are for nerds". Two green text bubbles come from Wylan. The first reads "they're useful if you wanna have nerd things", and the second reads, "like EYES".

Gif 2: A gif of Inej standing on a roof at night with her hood up. She's looking up and to the side before looking forward and speaking. The gif is coloured pink. Blended over the left side of Inej is a shot of Kaz, lying on the ground in Pekka's club after being beaten by him. Kaz wearily lifts his head and looks up at Pekka. This gif is coloured green. A grey text bubble comes from Inej, reading, "are you alive". A green text bubble comes from Kaz, reading, "debatable".

Gif 3: A gif of the Tidemaker Fruzsi, staring in shock after realizing Jesper is Grisha when he used his buttons to cut off her fingers. This gif is coloured green. Blended to the left side of Fruzsi is Jesper, who grins at her and tilts his head to the side, holding his hands out to the sides. This gif is coloured pink. A grey text bubble comes from Fruzsi, reading, "so ur clearly straight from hell". A green text box comes from Jesper, reading, "I'm clearly bisexual from hell".

Gif 4: A gif of Nina in the café where the crows meet after Kaz blows up the Crow Club. Nina condescendingly holds out a slip of paper she wrote on to get the waitress to tell her what room was Pekka's. This gif is coloured green. Blended over the right side of Nina's face is another shot of Nina, while removing the Menagerie mark from Inej, guilelessly looking up at two of them after making a remark about Kaz's feelings. This gif is coloured pink. A green text bubble comes from her, reading, "the idea sounds great and all except for all the horrible flaws".

Gif 5: A gif of Jesper in the café where the crows meet after Kaz blows up the Crows Club. He sits across from Inej and gestures with one hand. This gif is coloured pink. Blended over the left of his head is Inej, sitting in the Crow Club and twisting her knife into the table as she mocks Jesper. This gif is coloured green. A grey text bubble comes from Jesper, reading, "we'll stand together even in life and death". A green text bubble comes from Inej, reading, "Probably death". A second grey text bubble below the first reads, "Death for sure".

Gif 6: A gif of Wylan in the café. He looks over at Kaz and crosses his arms, attempting to look firm. This gif is coloured green. This shot is blended over a shot of Kaz sitting in the café looking consideringly back at Wylan across the table. Kaz glances from Wylan's face to his crossed arms and back up. This gif is coloured pink. A green text box comes from Wylan, reading, "if you keep ignoring your emotions like this, you will eventually break down". A grey text box comes from Kaz, reading, "how unfortunate".

Gif 7: A gif of Jesper tied to chair in Dreeson's house, being interrogated by Sturmhond. Jesper tries to walk back a comment after realizing it didn't make sense. This gif is coloured green. Blended over the left of his face is another shot of Jesper, in Ohval's courtyard, trying to pull off the chain that Ohval set to choking him. This gif is coloured pink. Two grey text bubbles come from him. The first reads, "I need advice". The second reads, "Nevermind i already did the stupid thing".

Gif 8: A gif of Matthias in Hellgate, speaking stoically to Pekka after deciding to fight in the ring. This gif is coloured pink. Blended over the left of his face is a shot of Kaz tied to a chair in Dreeson's house. He's unbothered by his situation glaring up at Sturmhond. A green text bubble comes from Kaz, reading, "I could strangle you". A grey text bubble comes from Matthias, reading, "You aren't tall enough". A second green text bubble below the first reads, "You've sunk low enough for me to reach".

Gif 9: A gif of Nina in the street after saving Inej from the Stadwatch, Nina speaks haughtily and raises a brow before starting to turn around. This gif is coloured green. Blended over the left of her face is a shot of Jesper, holding one of the Komedie Brute masks over his face, before lowering it and grinning. This gif is coloured pink. A green text bubble comes from Jesper, reading, "being attractive is so inconvenient like how am i supposed to do thing is i'm surrounded by fangirls". A grey text bubble comes from Nina, reading, "open your mouth your personality will drive them away".]

#shadow and bone #six of crows #sabedit #socedit #shadowandboneedit #shadowandbonecentral #dailyshadowandbone #socdaily #userbecca #ughmerlin #userbbelcher #chewieblog #cinematv #tvfilmgifs #televisiongifs #*gifs #saballedit #*crowstexts

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