#she joins the heist? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astrovagrant · 1 year

Text

urehghdhgdhghg. whf is generally... listen. she gets it. she understands why people end up working for corps - she was one of them. it put metaphorical food on the metaphorical table. it paid for medical bills, piling up. it let her keep the people relying on her afloat. she won't apologize for making the decisions she made and doing what she had to do.

cut bc Longe. post abt takemura mostly.

but she never liked the corp itself, and only pretended she did when she had to. she worked in cybernetics programming, not intelligence, not public relations - she was tucked away in a basement lab, testing software integrations. no one looked at her for too long, let alone cared about how strongly she believed in arasaka's great vision. and behind all that, behind the chip she let them put in her to dull the edges of her emotions, there's just a massive, massive onslaught of rage.

listening to takemura talk up the Order and Overwatch of arasaka like it's a benevolent patriarch makes her want to climb off the side of the unfinished building they're doing a stakeout on and just hit the concrete, it'd be faster and less painless than her head exploding.

takemura, look at yourself. look at her. both of us are from respective slums created by corporate bullshit. she's been in debt since before she knew how to count, inherited and generated out of thin air as everyone she cared about fell victim to the poisoned air, the poisoned water, the poisoned earth - all effects of corpos running amok, unfettered. it's not like he doesn't know - it's just that he's convinced himself otherwise. seen what he wanted to see. and she was like that, too, before leaving arasaka for good. she knew, conceptually, that there were worse things under her feet. that some of her work was being used for horrible things. but there was only the desperate tunnel of needing to make it through to the next paycheck. and she stayed until the very last possible fucking second because - because it was only on the brink of having them take the last ten years of her life away from her that she realized she couldn't rationalize that away, and she had to stop doing it for everything else, too.

so sure, talk to hanako. do whatever you've got to do based on whatever loyalties you've got to honor. but don't fucking pretend, don't fucking lie to yourself that you were ever anything other than lucky. you worked hard, but a corp is a massive beast. you just got lucky. every day you got lucky except for that one day.

just like her. every day she got lucky. except for that one day.

meanwhile johnny's just sitting over there listening to all of this and it's the most she's ever spoken about anything prior to the corp, really, and it's usually walled off in her mind behind the arasaka no-feelings implant, so he's... interested, but also so fucking. sad. he guesses. he's sad because she's sad. except she's just empty, and the only thing left (because there is No One left; they've all gone and the years she spent trying to keep them alive feel completely and utterly wasted now because who is she to fight entropy. who is she to fight the corps. who is she to fight the decay of the planet) is just a well of anger so deep he's surprised he's never tripped over it before. not that he pries, exactly, but it's so obvious now that he's seen it. she's got so much of it and so little of anything else left, and he hates to see a mirror in her in this way.

#whatsherface #tldr everyone in her family (that's a loose term it was a bunch of kids roughly her age that an old lady had taken in) got hit by -#- the same environmental disaster and fell deeply and horribly ill #a bunch of them died right at the start and then she immediately went into night city to get them medical care. uh oh that's a lot of money #ok let's start working. ok let's start scraping money out from every possible venue #okay let's give up everything about ourselves to join arasaka. okay let's let them put a chip in our head because they want us to work in-#-cybernetics and they say they need to protect their work.#and she loses them one by one by one and she was the person who was supposed to help them #the last one hanging on needed a huge procedure done that would get him through to the other side - this was after she left arasaka and was #working w jackie. and she just needed the fucking money so goddamn bad that the relic heist was really her only option #coming out of vik's clinic after getting shot and resurrected etc. the first thing she does is check on him and he died since-#the procedure didn't go ahead bc she had apparently ghosted. he died thinking she abandoned him #well now she's dying too. so it's all just alright. probably.#OK LONG TAGS TOO SORRY

2 notes · View notes

solheimisms · 2 years

Text

« I don't like your LITTLE GAMES, don't like your TILTED STAGE, the ROLE you made me PLAY of the FOOL. »

「 INDEPENDENT, SEMI-SELECTIVE 」 portrayal of [ miranda natalya lawson ] of the (( mass effect )) series. MULTI-SHIP and MULTI-MUSE FRIENDLY. oc's welcome (semi-selective). alternative verses available (me3 squadmate, post-war). carrd. interest tracker. headcanons. memes. plot call. starter call. promo.

DRAFTS: 11 LAST UPDATED: 11/01/23

CURRENT ACTIVITY: low – work is relatively busy. open for plotting, replies will be sporadic. OTHER BLOGS: @virmireisms, @akuzeisms, @furyisms

« I don't like your PERFECT CRIME, how you LAUGH when you LIE, you said the GUN was MINE. »

#important tags below!#promos. ❖﹙ you made a really deep cut ⋄ and baby now we got bad blood. ﹚#selfpromo. ❖﹙ i'm sorry but the old miri can't come to the phone right now ⋄ why? oh cause she's dead. ﹚#ic meme. ❖﹙ but if i'm a thief then you can join the heist ⋄ and we'll move to an island. ﹚#ooc meme. ❖﹙ i forget their names now ⋄ i'm so very tame now. ﹚#blog updates. ❖﹙ for so long your focus has been taken away ⋄ now you're breaking away. ﹚#plot call. ❖﹙ i don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me ⋄ i'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams. ﹚#starter call. ❖﹙ i see nothing better ⋄ i'll keep you forever like a vendetta. ﹚#headcanon. ❖﹙ i don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me ⋄ i'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams. ﹚

2 notes · View notes

somehowmags · 2 years

Note

tumblr crashed the first time we tried to send this :/ but ☄️❤️ for laterose!!

i already answered comet for laterose so you get comet for caspian as a bonus! people assume that he's got his life together and theyre partially correct in that academics wise he does and then he refuses to acknowledge any emotion ever laterose's love language is quality time! she loves spending time with her dormmates the most a lot of the times on their days off from school theyll just play board games all day

#asks #laterose #caspian #she stole the board games from her weekly nrc heist (its not a heist she just sneaks in so she can join in on the board games club)#(it's not like idia and azul will notice ONE board game missing)#(they do)#(they Really wanted to play parcheesi that day)

3 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

Netflix wants to chop down your family tree

Netflix has unveiled the details of its new anti-password-sharing policy, detailing a suite of complex gymnastics that customers will be expected to undergo if their living arrangements trigger Netflix’s automated enforcement mechanisms:

https://thestreamable.com/news/confirmed-netflix-unveils-first-details-of-new-anti-password-sharing-measures

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

Netflix says that its new policy allows members of the same “household” to share an account. This policy comes with an assumption: that there is a commonly understood, universal meaning of “household,” and that software can determine who is and is not a member of your household.

This is a very old corporate delusion in the world of technology. In the early 2000s, I spent years trying to bring some balance to an effort at DVB, whose digital television standards are used in most of the world (but not the USA) when they rolled out CPCM, a DRM system that was supposed to limit video-sharing to a single household.

Their term of art for this was the “authorized domain”: a software-defined family unit whose borders were privately negotiated by corporate executives from media companies, broadcasters, tech and consumer electronics companies in closed-door sessions all around the world, with no public minutes or proceedings.

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-iii-8561f6d5a4dc

These guys (they were nearly all guys) were proud of how much “flexibility” they’d built into their definition of “household.” For example, if you owned a houseboat, or a luxury car with seatback displays, or a summer villa in another country, the Authorized Domain would be able to figure out how to get the video onto all those screens.

But what about other kinds of families? I suggested that one of our test cases should be a family based in Manila: where the dad travels to remote provinces to do agricultural labor; the daughter is a nanny in California; and the son is doing construction work in the UAE. This suggestion was roundly rejected as an “edge case.”

Of course, this isn’t an edge case. There are orders of magnitude more people whose family looks like this than there are people whose family owns a villa in another country. Owning a houseboat or a luxury car makes you an outlier. Having an itinerant agricultural breadwinner in your family does not.

But everyone who is in the room when a cartel draws up a standard definition of what constitutes a household is almost certainly drawn from a pool that is more likely to have a summer villa than a child doing domestic work or construction labor half a world away. These weirdos, so dissimilar from the global majority, get to define the boxes that computers will shove the rest of the world into. If your family doesn’t look like their family, that’s tough: “Computer says no.”

One day at a CPCM meeting, we got to talking about the problem of “content laundering” and how the way to prevent it would be to put limits on how often someone could leave a household and join another one. No one, they argued, would ever have to change households every week.

I put my hand up and said, “What about a child whose divorced parents share custody of her? She’s absolutely going to change households every week.” They thought about it for a moment, then the rep from a giant IT company that had recently been convicted of criminal antitrust violations said, “Oh, we can solve that: we’ll give her a toll-free number to call when she gets locked out of her account.”

That was the solution they went with. If you are a child coping with the dissolution of your parents’ marriage, you will have the obligation to call up a media company every month — or more often — and explain that Mummy and Daddy don’t love each other any more, but can I please have my TV back?

I never forgot that day. I even wrote a science fiction story about it called (what else?) “Authorized Domain”:

https://craphound.com/news/2011/10/31/authorised-domain/

I think everyone understood that this was an absurd “solution,” but they had already decided that they were going to complete the seemingly straightforward business of defining a category like “household” using software, and once that train left the station, nothing was going to stop it.

This is a recurring form of techno-hubris: the idea that baseline concepts like “family” have crisp definitions and that any exceptions are outliers that would never swallow the rule. It’s such a common misstep that there’s a whole enre* called “Falsehoods Programmers Believe About ______”:

https://github.com/kdeldycke/awesome-falsehood

In that list: names, time, currency, birthdays, timezones, email addresses, national borders, nations, biometrics, gender, language, alphabets, phone numbers, addresses, systems of measurement, and, of course, families. These categories are touchstones in our everyday life, and we think we know what they mean — but then we try to define them, and the list of exceptions spirals out into a hairy, fractal infinity.

Historically, these fuzzy categorical edges didn’t matter so much, because they were usually interpreted by humans using common sense. My grandfather was born “Avrom Doctorovitch” (or at least, that’s one way to transliterate his name, which was spelled in a different alphabet, but which was also transliterating his first name from yet another alphabet). When he came to Canada as a refugee, his surname was anglicized to “Doctorow.” Other cousins are “Doctorov,” “Doctoroff,” and “Doktorovitch.”

Naturally, his first name could have been “Abraham” or “Abe,” but his first employer (a fellow Eastern European emigre) decided that was too ethnic and in sincere effort to help him fit in, he called my grandfather “Bill.” When my grandfather attained citizenship, his papers read “Abraham William Doctorow.” He went by “Abe,” “Billy,” “Bill,” “William,” “Abraham” and “Avrom.”

Practically, it didn’t matter that variations on all of these appeared on various forms of ID, contracts, and paperwork. His reparations check from the German government had a different variation from the name on the papers he used to open his bank account, but the bank still let him deposit it.

All of my relatives from his generation have more than one name. Another grandfather of mine was born “Aleksander,” and called “Sasha” by friends, but had his name changed to “Seymour” when he got to Canada. His ID was also a mismatched grab-bag of variations on that theme.

None of this mattered to him, either. Airlines would sell him tickets and border guards would stamp his passport and rental agencies would let him drive away in cars despite the minor variations on all his ID.

But after 9/11, all that changed, for everyone who had blithely trundled along with semi-matching names across their official papers and database entries. Suddenly, it was “computer says no” everywhere you turned, unless everything matched perfectly. There was a global rush for legal name-changes after 9/11 — not because people changed their names, but because people needed to perform the bureaucratic ritual necessary to have the name they’d used all along be recognized in these new, brittle, ambiguity-incinerating machines.

For important categories, ambiguity is a feature, not a bug. The fact that you can write anything on an envelope (including a direction to deliver the letter to the granny flat over the garage, not the front door) means that we don’t have to define “address” — we can leave it usefully hairy around the edges.

Once the database schema is formalized, then “address” gets defined too — the number of lines it can have, the number of characters each line can have, the kinds of characters and even words (woe betide anyone who lives in Scunthorpe).

If you have a “real” address, a “real” name, a “real” date of birth, all of this might seem distant to you. These “edge” cases — seasonal agricultural workers, refugees with randomly assigned “English” names — are very far from your experience.

That’s true — for now (but not forever). The “Shitty Technology Adoption Curve” describes the process by which abusive technologies work their way up the privilege gradient. Every bad technological idea is first rolled out on poor people, refugees, prisoners, kids, mental patients and other people who can’t push back.

Their bodies are used to sand the rough edges and sharp corners off the technology, to normalize it so that it can climb up through the social ranks, imposed on people with more and more power and influence. 20 years ago, if you ate your dinner under an always-on #CCTV, it was because you were in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you bought a premium home surveillance system from Google, Amazon or Apple.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

The Netflix anti-sharing tools are designed for rich people. If you travel for business and stay in the kind of hotel where the TV has its own Netflix client that you can plug your username and password into, Netflix will give you a seven-day temporary code to use.

But for the most hardcore road-warriors, Netflix has thin gruel. Unless you connect to your home wifi network every 31 days and stream a show, Netflix will lock out your devices. Once blocked, you have to “contact Netflix” (laughs in Big Tech customer service).

Why is Netflix putting the screws to its customers? It’s part of the enshittification cycle, where platform companies first allocate surpluses to their customers, luring them in and using them as bait for business customers. Once they turn up, the companies reallocate surpluses to businesses, lavishing them with low commissions and lots of revenue opportunities. And once they’re locked in, the company starts to claw back the surpluses for itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Remember when Netflix was in the business of mailing red envelopes full of DVDs around the country? That was allocating surpluses to users. The movie companies hated this, viewed it as theft — a proposition that was at least as valid as Netflix’s complaints about password sharing, but every pirate wants to be an admiral, and when Netflix did it to the studios, that was “progress,” but when you do it to Netflix, that’s theft.

Then, once Netflix had users locked in and migrated to the web (and later, apps), it shifted surpluses to studios, paying fat licensing fees to stream their movies and connect them to a huge audience.

Finally, once the studios were locked in, Netflix started to harvest the surplus for its shareholders: raising prices, lowering streaming rates, knocking off other studios’ best performing shows with in-house clones, etc. Users’ surpluses are also on the menu: the password “sharing” that let you define a household according to your family’s own idiosyncratic contours is unilaterally abolished in a quest to punish feckless Gen Z kids for buying avocado toast instead of their own Netflix subscriptions.

Netflix was able to ignore the studios’ outraged howls when it built a business by nonconsenually distributing their products in red envelopes. But now that Netflix has come for your family, don’t even think about giving Netfix some of what it gave to the MPAA.

As a technical matter, it’s not really that hard to modify Netflix’s app so that every stream you pull seems to come from your house, no matter where you are. But doing so would require reverse-engineering Netflix’s app, and that would violate Section 1201 of the DMCA, the CFAA, and eleventy-seven other horrible laws. Netflix’s lawyers would nuke you until the rubble bounced.

When Netflix was getting started, it could freely interoperate with the DVDs that the studios had put on the market. It could repurpose those DVDs in ways that the studios strenuously objected to. In other words, Netfix used adversarial interoperability (AKA Competitive Compatibility or ComCom) to launch its business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Today, Netflix is on the vanguard of the war to abolish adversarial interop. They helped lead the charge to pervert W3C web-standards, creating a DRM video standard called EME that made it a crime to build a full-featured browser without getting permission from media companies and restricting its functionality to their specifications:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

When they used adversarial interoperability to build a multi-billion-dollar global company using the movie studios’ products in ways the studios hated, that was progress. When you define “family” in ways that makes Netflix less money, that’s felony contempt of business model.

[Image ID: A Victorian family tree template populated by tintypes of old-timey people. In the foreground stands a menacing, chainsaw-wielding figure, his face obscured by a hoodie. The blade of the chainsaw is poised to chop down the family tree. A Netflix 'N' logo has been superimposed over the man's face.]

#pluralistic #enshittification #shitty technology adoption curve #cpcm #interoperabiltiy #comcom #adversarial interoperability #interop #netflix #family #ambiguity #digitizatio #nym wars #authorized domain #dvb #dvds #password sharing

7K notes · View notes

theowritesstuff · 1 year

Text

Everything

Kaz Brekker x gn!healer!reader

Requests: “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” & “You are everything. Everything.” Although I did change it to “You are everything to me. Everything.”

Warnings: bruises, knives, guns, stabbing, blood, murder (feral Kaz)

A/N: Yeah, this is pretty dark guys. If you’ve watched the show/read the books you’ll be fine, but the crows plotlines are usually dark. I actually really like this one though! Italics are Kaz’s thoughts.

Request a prompt with one of my characters!

Kaz Brekker was methodical. He planned everything he could down to the very minute. It was how he was able to become the leader of the Dregs, the Bastard of the Barrel. No one dared cross Kaz, in fear of losing their life.

His crew were nearly as untouchable as he was. Jesper, the sharpshooter. Inej, the wraith. Wylan, the demolitions expert. Nina, the heartrender. And Matthias, the druskelle. They, along with their leader, made up one of the most prominent gangs in Ketterdam.

Then there was you. You were the crow that Kaz kept tucked away from the rest of Ketterdam.

Nina had brought you to Kaz after finding you help a small child with a nasty scrape on his knee. She watched as you guided your hand over the scrape, and the cuts disappeared. She hadn’t seen another Corporalnik in Ketterdam before, and knew that having a healer would help immensely when it came to heists.

Kaz was reluctant to take you in, only agreeing once he’d seen you heal a black eye Jesper had been sporting for a few days. He gave you a room at the Slat, gave you a few kruge, and introduced you to the other crows.

They were all easy to get along with. Nina helped you ease into this new life, often times joining you for meals, or taking walks through the markets with you. You had an obvious initial distaste for Mathias, often times choosing to stay away from the druskelle, but seeing him with Nina quickly put you at ease. Inej was incredibly kind to you, and graciously thanked you whenever you healed her. Wylan and Jesper were easy to get along with, often times too absorbed in each other to be aware of other things going on around them.

Then there was Kaz. It was more difficult to have a working relationship with Kaz, anyone could tell you he usually kept to himself unless he was giving orders or collecting kruge. You tried not to take his indifference to you personally.

You do remember the day things changed between you and Kaz though. The group had all come back from a heist exhausted, some injured, some just tired, but you could see Kaz out of the corner of your eye walking to his room quicker than he usually does. You followed him upstairs, and softly knocked on the door.

“Come in.” He grunted.

You’d never been in Kaz’s room before, you don’t think anyone other than Kaz actually has. It’s dark, and honestly exactly what you’d expected. A bed in the corner, a desk against the wall cluttered with paper, and a wardrobe that he was currently riffing through.

“Is there a reason you’ve decided to grace me with your presence Y/n?” He asks, his tone sharp.

“How did you know it was me?” You shuffle forward, and close his door behind you.

“Everyone else knows not to bother me after a job.” He turned his head towards you slightly, allowing you to catch a glimpse of red on his cheek.

“You’re hurt.” You take a step towards him. He steps back from you instantaneously.

“I’m fine.” He turns back to his wardrobe.

“Saints, why must you be so stubborn?” You sigh. He doesn’t answer you. “I thought you hired me to heal you, so let me do my job.”

It’s his turn to sigh this time. It would be nice to stop the stinging sensation on his face. He glances at you, then gestures you towards him. “Fine.” He sits down in the chair at his desk, and watches you slowly step towards him.

You slowly move towards him, aware of the way his shoulder tense with every step you take. You don’t know exactly what’s happened to him, but you can easily tell he’s got some sort of touch aversion after watching him for a while. The black gloves that never come off his hands are used as another layer to keep others away.

Once you’re standing in front of him you take a look at the thin cut across his cheek. “I didn’t know the bastard of the barrel could bleed.” You murmur.

You don’t fail to miss the slight upward quirk of his lips at your comment. He holds his breath as your fingertips hover over him. He expected to feel the waters rise up in his chest, drowning him, instead he’s surprised to feel warmth from your hand. You’re careful not to actually touch him, pulling away once he’s been healed.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask, stepping away from him.

That was the moment you became more than just the Dregs’ healer. Whenever you went out anywhere Kaz would send Inej with you for protection. He knew how valuable a grisha was in Ketterdam, and he was not going to let someone else take you away. He called you into his office in the Crow Club or his room in the Slat more often. Sometimes he’d need you to heal a paper cut, other times he’d just want your company while he planned out heists. On nights where he came back banged up more than usual he’d bare more skin to you, allowing you to heal him and provide him the comfort a part of him so desperately needed.

He’d never let it be known he was growing some kind of attachment to you. You were a weakness to him, and Kaz Brekker didn’t have any weaknesses.

It didn’t take long for the other crows to figure out something was different between the two of you. Kaz was a cold, corrupt gang leader, but they could see a shift in him when you were near.

He’d give you his coat if you felt cold on the walk from the club back to the Slat. He kept your favorite drink in stock at the Crow Club. He’d look to you for your opinion on plans for heists. He whispered comments to you while he thought the others weren’t paying attention, a smug grin growing on his face as you laughed at what he’d said. Soft isn’t the right word for what Kaz had become when you were near. He was gentle with you.

Jesper caught you sneaking out of Kaz’s room early one morning still in the clothes you’d worn the previous day. He smirked at Kaz as he ate his breakfast for the day.

“Have a pleasant night boss?” He asked over his cup of coffee.

Kaz raises a brow at him, silently asking what he meant.

Jesper simply looks over at you, who is currently in conversation with Nina and Mathias on the other side of the room. His eyes travel back to Kaz, gleaming with mischief.

Kaz looks like he’s about to hit Jesper over the head with the crow’s head of his cane. He gets a stern talking to in Kaz’s office later that day, and is informed that if anyone finds out about his meetings with you, his precious revolvers might end up on someone’s table in the market.

No one mentions any changes they’ve seen in Kaz after that. Everything goes smoothly from then on, until one particular heist.

It was a lot like any other heist, sneak into a place, steal something that costs an exorbitant amount of money, then sell it for twice the price. The problem was Kaz needed someone to sneak into a crowded party, and at that point most of the barrel could pick out any of the crows in a crowd. They needed someone that could be inconspicuous.

It was the perfect job for you. You’d always wanted to go on the crazy adventures your friend went on so often, and this was finally something you could swing.

When you volunteered to step in, Kaz immediately refused. There was a reason he kept you locked away in the Slat during jobs.

No amount of kruge is worth putting your life on the line.

He gives excuse after excuse as to why you can’t be used. You haven’t done this before. You don’t know your way around the building. They need their healer ready to treat them afterwards.

I can’t bear the thought of losing you.

“You don’t even know how to use a weapon.” Kaz sighed, barely looking up at you from the blueprints on his desk.

“Inej can teach me, right?” You turn to the wraith with pleading eyes.

Inej stutters as she looks between you, and the icy stare coming from Kaz.

“Besides, you said that you wanted me to learn how to fight.”

No, I said you should learn to use a weapon. I figured Jesper would let you shoot a few bottles behind the Slat.

“We need them boss. Y/n is our best bet.” Jesper shrugs as he becomes the receiving end of Kaz’s glare.

Kaz looks back down at his blueprints. He knows it’s going to be a busy event, and the others will be spotted on sight. He briefly wonders if he can hire someone else to do the job, but then he looks back up at you. He trusts you, more than he’s trusted anyone in a long time. He knows this is something you’re perfectly capable of, but is it something he’s willing to risk?

“Fine.” He grunts. “But Jesper and Inej will teach you to use their weapons first.”

Your hearts swells up with pride. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thrown yourself over his desk to hug him. “Thank you Kaz. I promise you won’t regret this.”

If only you knew how wrong you had been.

You did train with Inej and Jesper prior to the heist. You even practiced fighting with Mathias a little bit, who was significantly holding back his punches in fear of actually hurting you.

Kaz had made sure to drill his instructions into everyone’s heads, until they could repeat their schedules without thinking about it. Everything had gone to according to plan on the night of, until things took a drastic turn.

He kept an eye on you for as long as he could, until he was needed somewhere else, leaving you in the crowd of the large hall completely isolated from the rest of the group.

You were doing well on your own, slowly becoming more confident as you strolled around and made conversation. You managed to distract all of the merchants with conversation long enough for the crew to get what they needed. It was nearing the time Kaz told you to meet him outside when you were spotted by someone. You vaguely recognized the face, it was a man you’d seen in the Crow Club a few times.

He must’ve known about your affiliation with the crows, because next thing you know you’re being escorted the opposite direction you need to go. You try to stay calm, and remember what Jesper and Inej taught you about fighting, but you know with them holding onto your arms it’ll be near impossible to reach for the knife you have hidden away.

You end up in a courtyard behind the building when they start to question you. Simple things like “why are you here?” and “where are your friends?”. They quickly become aggravated with your innocent act, and become more incessant.

All it took was for one of the men holding you to loosen his grip for you to swing your arm away, and hit him on the side of his face with your elbow. Chaos ensued immediately. You were able to grab your knife, and used it as best you could against the three men fighting you. You had taken a few hits, but were able to stand your ground fairly well, until you felt a sharp pain in your side.

You froze, partially from shock, but mostly from the searing pain you felt. You looked down to see a dagger lodged in your side, being held onto by one of the men. He had a wicked grin on his face as he twisted the knife inside of you. You wailed out as he pulled the knife from your body, and watched as you collapsed to the ground.

“Brekker won’t be able to save you from that, little bird.” He snikered, then ran back inside with the others.

You could feel the blood pooling at your side. You tried to press a hand to the now sticky fabric of your shirt, and put pressure on the wound. You were far too hurt to be able to concentrate your powers to one spot. Your vision started to get spotty when you heard voices above you. A girl’s voice, clearly in distress, and a boy’s voice, sharp and stern.

More hands pressed to your side, then something was wrapped tightly around your waist.

You couldn’t hear what they were actually saying before you felt yourself being picked up, and held in someone’s arms. You looked up to see the figure that was holding you. A bigger build, wide shoulders, blonde hair? Mathias. Had you been conscious enough to speak you would’ve made a joke. Something about a druskelle carrying a grisha to safety. He’d laugh, but retort, telling you about how many times he’s had to save Nina.

You let yourself fall into the darkness after a while, your head lolling against Mathias’ chest. It’s okay, you thought, you knew you weren’t going to make it as soon as he pulled that knife out of you. You just wish you were able to see your friends one last time, to see Kaz one last time.

Kaz could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He tried to keep a calm composure, but anyone of the crows could see the anxiety building up in him. He was barking orders as soon as he saw you laying on the ground, a puddle of your own blood surrounding you. The waves start to build in his chest. He wants to reach out and touch you, to give you any semblance of comfort, because you’re not dead, there’s no way he’s letting you die. He’ll destroy all of Kerch before he lets that happen.

He notices when your head lolls. “Quickly.” He urges the group, speeding his own pace back to the Slat.

Once everyones regrouped they all gather in your room, where Mathias has lain you down on your bed.

Kaz tosses a pouch of coins to Jesper. “Go get some medicine. I don’t care how much it costs. Get the best you can find.”

Inej kneels down next to you, whispering prayers to her saints. Mathias leaves to gather supplies to help you. Nina keeps your heartbeat steady, her hands hovering above your chest.

The waters have reached his lungs now, pulling him down deeper into the ocean. Your blood coats the scarf Inej tied around you earlier, staining the blue material a dark, deep red.

“Saints! Kaz, your heartbeat is obscenely loud! Could you please go anywhere else?” Nina snaps at him.

Kaz doesn’t move for a moment, then quickly leaves your room to go to his own. He attempts to slow his breathing, to calm himself down, but anytime he closes his eyes he sees you again. You and Jordie.

It’s days before he talks to anyone. He only ever leaves his room to step into yours. Nina occupies a chair near your bed, dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Still alive.” Is all she says to him. He nods, then retreats back to his room.

He scours any and all information he has about the party, until he finds what might give him some relief. He leaves the Slat early one morning, and doesn’t return until late that evening. The gold crow’s head of his cane is now a bright crimson color. Blood is splattered on his neck, and one can assume his clothes as well, though the black hides it well from anyone giving him a second glance.

Jesper is surprised to see Kaz in such a state, knowing that he liked to keep up appearances.

“Hey boss, you’ve got a little…” he trails off, gesturing to his neck.

“It’s not mine.” He rushes passed Jesper, back to his room to start scrubbing the blood away.

You wake up about a week after the heist. Your throat is dry, and you feel incredibly hungry. Your limbs feel weak when move to sit up.

Nina sits next to you on a chair. She’s slouched over, soft snores falling from her lips. You softly nudge her, and let out a hoarse “Nina.”

She grumbles to herself as she wakes up. “Kaz, they’re fine.” She slowly opens her eyes to see you staring back at her, and she gasps. “Saints! You’re awake!”

You point to the cup that sits next to her, and gulp down the water when she hands it to you.

She stands up and looks towards the door to your room. “I’m going to go get Kaz.”

You grab her wrist before she can leave you. “Please don’t. I don’t think I can deal with incessant “I told you so”s right now.”

Nina scoffs. “Oh please, he’s been worried sick about you. I had to kick him out of here because his heartbeat was distracting me from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He even paid for some pretty pricey medicine for you. Speaking of which, here, take these.” She holds out a few pills. “Now, I’m going to go get Kaz, and maybe after this near-death experience you two will finally just tell each other that you love one another.”

“What? I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head.

“It’s okay, he’s not very good at hiding it either.” She smirks at you before she leaves.

She’s only gone a few minutes before your door swings open with Kaz in your doorway.

“You’re awake.” He says.

You shift so that you’re sitting up on your bed. Kaz closes your door behind him, then sits down in the chair Nina had been using, his eyes trained on the floor ahead.

“I’m sorry about the heist Kaz. But I promise I didn’t tell them anything-”

“I know.”

You furrow your brows. “You know?”

He looks up at you. When he does this, you realize just how close you are to him. You can see every detail in his face. The way his blue eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight of your room. You could brush your leg against his if you shifted. You start to move away from him, afraid of touching him, but stop when what sounds like a plea escapes him.

“Stay.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding, and relax beside him.

“Nina said you were worried about me.” You say softly.

He laughs a little, shaking his head. It’s a sight he’s reserved for just you. “Of course she did.”

“Were you?”

He looks into your eyes as if he’s searching for something. “I was.” He takes a breath, then turns his body so he’s facing you. “You scared me Y/n. I thought you had died, or were close to it. And I…” His admission is quiet. “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” He hangs his head in shame. The bastard of the barrel can’t admit how he feels.

“I understand.” You nod. “I feel so much love for you Kaz, you consume my every thought. You don’t need to say anything. I understand.”

He looks up at you, surprised. Surprised that someone as pure as you, someone who was literally made to heal, could ever love someone who’s caused so much pain as he has. He slowly removes his right glove, and drops the leather to the ground. He lifts his hand to your face, hovering near your cheek.

“You don’t have to.” You whisper, body frozen.

“I want to.” He takes a deep breath in an attempt to push the waves down, and slowly caresses your cheek. His throat tightens up, and for a moment it feels like he’s drowning again. But he focuses on your warmth, and his breathing slows down again. “You are everything to me. Everything.”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader

3K notes · View notes

lingerina · 3 months

Text

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐎𝓥𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐈𝓥𝐄 － yu jimin

␥ karina x fem!reader ␥ 916 words 🚨 choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia (?), praise ␥ you swore to never work for a rideshare app again but getting laid off leaves you no choice. you end up becoming someone’s getaway driver, not realizing you’re in for way more than you bargained for. ␥ A/N inspired by this ask (and reblogs) from ages ago. also could be read as (sort of?) optional bias since i realized i never used her name here. 🧍🏻‍♀️ and it took me this long to write for my bias? 🤪

You never wanted to go back to Uber but after being laid off and having bills due soon, you had no choice.

You earned the most when you drove around the airport, downtown, and during late-night hours, which were windows to some of the craziest things you’ve previously experienced as a driver. You’ve gotten caught up in a drug deal and bank heist before, which was why you swore to never be an app driver again.

Every ride, you hoped that your passengers were normal law-abiding citizens who just needed a ride to the local market or something. Fortunately, they had been.

Until you made the mistake of driving off with a passenger who wasn’t the one that ordered a ride from you.

She had run up to your car—impressively in heels—and slammed the door shut as if she was being chased, shouting for you to drive off before you even get a chance to confirm you’re picking up the right person. Meeting her sharp eyes in your rear view mirror startled you into stepping on the gas because in the pit of your guts, you were uncertain if you were in harm’s way again and ignoring her might actually put your life on the line.

The ride had been silent, your actual passenger that you’d driven past being one of the only two thoughts crossing your mind after you had hovered a shaky hand over your phone, that’s mounted to the air vent, to cancel her request. You didn’t know where you were driving, and you couldn’t accept any other ride that were popping up on your app. There were more red areas on the map, indicating major activity and hefty tips that you could’ve gotten your hands on had you refused to let the mysterious raven-haired beauty in your car.

She stared out the window for what felt like hours. She didn’t utter a word and you were too afraid to ask questions. You aimlessly drove around, hoping she would finally say something and end this torture.

When she abruptly met eyes with you in the mirror again, you startled.

You tried to break the ice and asked for her destination, but what followed was more silence, a sudden request to park in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, and two-word commands for you to step out and join her in the backseat where she ended up breaking you.

You’re seated on her lap with your back pressed against her chest and her hand wrapped around your throat. Taunting words brush over your ear, inducing a chill that ripples down your spine as three of her fingers are inside you. Your body horribly betrays you as your car echoes with the filthy squelches of your dripping pussy and your cries as she violates you.

Nonetheless, you part your legs wider and buck against her hand, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from your morals dissipating and your desire to be broken burning. With your leggings torn at your crotch and bearing the stains of your pleasure, you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess for a gorgeous stranger who may or may not be dangerous.

She squeezes tighter, her well-manicured nails threatening to pierce the soft skin of your throat, a low praise of ‘good girl’ uttered at the shell of your ear threatening the sliver of sanity you have left. You catch your breath when she releases her grip, which moves down your clavicle to tear at the collar of your tee. She yanks at your bra, unveiling your breast for the palm of her hand, and kneads in tandem with the pace of her fingers.

Your head lolls back over her shoulder, hoarse moans polluting your once-silent vehicle as she fucks you harder. Tension grips at your limbs, your toes curling as her curled digits reach that spot. The spot where you need her most.

“Come on, baby,” she purrs with a sly smirk. “Give it to me.”

You oblige on cue. Your eyes roll back as you soil her hand in the midst of ecstasy, your wetness dirtying her dress, her lap, and the back of the seat. She didn’t spare you mercy before, and she’s definitely not sparing you now.

She toys with you until you think you’ve given her your all. As soon as you fall limp, she slips back inside you and you swiftly ascend to your brink once more, the sensitivity blurring your vision with white dots as you gush all over her.

She refuses to let you recuperate. Just when you think it’s over, she makes her unwelcome return, her expert fingers repeatedly bringing you to ecstasy like a broken film. She gets off on your tears and pleas because they’re a stark contrast to you squirting all over her and dirtying your car in the process. When she’s had her fill, she shifts you off her lap like a discarded toy and finally steps out without a word, leaving you alone in the abandoned parking lot.

With the silence and post coital clarity setting in, you sit up straight and stare at the mess you made. You don’t need a mirror to know that you do not look presentable to customers at all.

Fortunately, it’s still early in the morning. You can rush home, clean yourself and your car up, and still have a whole day to earn money.

You just hope that you don’t have another potentially dangerous or salacious run-in again.

#girl group smut #girl group imagines #aespa smut #aespa imagines #karina smut #karina imagines

462 notes · View notes

kitkats-and-kittens · 3 months

Text

Six of Crows AU where Jesper brings an emotional support goat over from his Fathers farm and it’s just there for the entire duology.

Just imagine Nina, Kaz, Inej and Matthias escaping from Hellgate and as they approach the boat Nina is like.

“Is that one of the escape animals?”

And Kaz just sighs in annoyance and goes “no that’s just Milo”

And Jesper is just grinning holding his goat.

Or when Inej wakes up from being stabbed and she’s with Nina and Jesper walks in and she’s just like.

“You brought the goat!?!?”

And he’s like “I thought we’d need some comforting” and hands her a goat to pet.

Poor Wylans just constantly staring at it until he finally works up the courage to be like “so what’s up with the goat?”

And Jesper who infamously can’t take anything seriously is just like “what do you mean?” Completely deadpan as though bringing a goat to a prison heist is a completely normal thing to do and it sends Wylan spiralling.

Matthais already thinks the Crows are weird and the goat is just one more thing to confirm his suspicions, but Jesper is incredibly insistent that petting a goat is the number one way to alleviate stress and he eventually gives in and pets the goat.

It bites him.

And it only gets worse after they make it out.

Kuwei just has to hear Jesper lament about all his struggles to this goat for hours. The others are already used to it, but by the time they make it back to Ketterdam he’s seriously having second thoughts about why he finds this man attractive.

And Kaz has been half contemplating murdering it since Jesper joined the Dregs and bought the Goat along with him, but unfortunately everyone’s grown strangely attached, him included.

And Kaz won’t admit it, but he did grow up on the farm and they did have animals and the goat reminds him a little of when he was a kid and times were a little bit better. So he pretends to be completely and utterly against the goat like those dads when you get a dog acting like they don’t snuggle up next to it every night and the Crows figure out pretty quickly that Kaz does in fact love this goat.

So they go to confront Van Eck and they just bring the goat, cause why not?

And obviously Wylans dad is like. What’s up with the goat. And all the present crows stare at him like he’s the crazy one for thinking there’s something wrong with the goat.

6 of Crows + Jespers emotional support goat.

#six of crows #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kuwei yul bo #milo the goat #but like why not though?#also Colm shows up and is extremely surprised that Jesper still has the goat #emotional support goat #au

426 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

hi hun!! i have another in a week :]] it's a little less cute than sunshine reader, but i read the fic where reader swore at someone and everyone was shocked and i thought it was so funnyy

i was thinking a.. hothead!reader who's got a sailor mouth and quick temper, so naturally she curses a LOT. and the boys dare her to try not to curse for just one day, and she accepts it, but without them even doing anything mischievous to tick her off, she drops something and she's like "fuck- shit, damn it!" and the boys are just giggling their head off and constantly reminding her to put money in the swear jar

ooh and maemae, i love the way you write descriptions omgg <333 especially when you write from james' pov, he's such a sweetheart!! ahh you're such an amazing writer, your stuff gives me all the warm fuzzies :] i hope you're taking care of yourself in the midst of writing all these requests!!

- ✏️

Thank you my love!

join the party

poly!marauders x hothead!reader ♡ 677 words

You know your boyfriends are plotting something. You eye them suspiciously as Sirius whispers to James, both of them giggling like children.

“What,” you say flatly.

James doesn’t even bother trying to hide his grin. “Nothing, sweetheart.”

You huff, biting your lip before you can call him any name that’ll make you lose your prize. It’s nine in the morning, and you’ve only got about sixteen hours to go with no cursing. Twelve if you go to bed early as a measure of self-censure.

Remus had raised an eyebrow at you after a particularly colorful stream of expletives the night before, asking as you made your contribution to the swear jar, “Do you think you could go even one day without swearing like that?” You said you could, and Sirius had pounced on the opportunity for a wager, betting you that you couldn’t go the entire next day without using a single curse word.

You’re sure the boys were hoping you’d forget overnight, but you weren’t accustomed to losing, and damned if you weren’t going to get your prize. Sirius had so little faith in you that he’d agreed to letting you pick what movies you all watched for the next month if you won the bet. The next month. That meant a month-long reprieve from those stupid fucking heist movies they all loved so much.

You’re also certain that, failing their first plan of your poor memory, your boyfriends are going to be cooking up some other scheme to make you falter. One of their famous pranks, to be sure. They tease you incessantly for your short fuse, and they’re bound to try and ignite it any way they can today.

You wonder what it’ll be. Dog breath potion slipped into your water bottle? Stink pellets tossed into your room? Or maybe something so simple as salt in your coffee?

You look down at the mug Remus handed you a minute ago, sniffing at it. They always use Remus when they want to be inconspicuous; it’s so hard to suspect him. But he wants you to lose the bet as much as anyone.

You stand, carrying your still-full mug into the kitchen.

“Not this time,” you mutter.

Remus looks up from his paper, frowning at you as you stomp over to the sink. “Dove, what are you doing?”

“You must think I’m so gullible,” you drawl, pouring the hot coffee down the drain. “There’s no way I’m ingesting anything you—” the handle of the mug slips from your grasp, the dish shattering in the sink “—ah, fuck!” You look up to see Sirius’ eyes widen, glee sparking to life, and realize what you’ve done. “Shit. Damn it!”

Remus puts a hand over his mouth while Sirius hoots, and James simply collapses in giggles, disappearing behind the couch.

“Tha—that was too easy,” Sirius cackles, using his forefinger to wipe under his eyes. “We didn’t even do anything yet!”

“Sweetheart, I’m almost disappointed,” Remus says, shaking his head even as he grins from ear-to-ear. “I thought you’d make it to the afternoon at least. Get your money for the jar.”

“That’s, what?” James' voice comes from behind the couch. “Three dollars?”

“Five,” you say gravely, holding up your favorite finger on each hand. “Fuck you, you assholes.”

“Pretty sure that’s six, babydoll.” Sirius cheeses at you. “Gestures count, don’t they Prongs?”

“A dollar per hand,” James agrees, now recovered enough to sit up on the couch.

You seethe at them, and Remus comes into the kitchen to help you clean up your mess, patting your shoulder consolingly.

“We’ll put it towards date night,” he says.

“Good idea.” Sirius kicks his feet up on the table, making a show of lounging in his chair. “I’m thinking tonight, we order in from that Indian place and watch The Italian Job. What do you think, lads?”

You bristle, but Remus sees the comeback sizzling on your tongue and squeezes your shoulder warningly. “Save your money, dove. Want me to make you some more coffee? Seems like you might need it today.”

650 notes · View notes

futurecorps3 · 11 months

Note

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

897 notes · View notes

ashessonfire · 1 year

Note

Okay so I have a fic idea and I’m a bit obsessed with it so hope you like it too!!

I was imagining that the reader is part of the crows and they do a job where the reader and Jesper get cursed or poisoned where they just stay in a coma like state.

The crows try everything to wake them up but nothing works and one day Wylan kisses Jesper and Jesper wakes up so they realise the cure is TRUE LOVES KISS!

Kaz is obviously in denial about his feelings and thinks the reader can’t possibly love him back so he doesn’t even try and the other crows start getting really mad at him and basically force him to kiss the reader and she obviously wakes up too!

I was thinking lots of angst and worrying and pining before the kiss because I love pain haha

I would absolutely love you forever as ever if you could write this! ❤️

'Fairytale' - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt: Kaz sends you and Jesper on a heist, which results in the pair on the brink of death. Can Kaz face his trauma and save the person he loves most? - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (pre-relationship) - Warnings: Mentions of asphyxiation (gas poison like season 2), Jesper and reader fall into a coma like state, descriptions of Kaz's trauma, nothing too graphic i dont think?? Angst, angst, angst

A/N: Anon i just have to say i love you, this request is EVERYTHING. Its a long one but i just couldn't stop writing! Please keep requests coming, you guys have incredible ideas!!! P.S Thank you all for 5000 notes already <3

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

The second the words ‘Jesper’ and ‘Y/N’ coincided with the word ‘heist’, fits of laughter and screeches of excitement escaped the pair in question. It was rare that the friends could spend a mission entirely alone, obviously working diligently, but stopping by for drinks afterwards, unbeknownst to their boss.

Kaz rolled his eyes, fixing a dull look at the two, lip curling up in what may have appeared to be disgust. However, you caught the playful glint in his eye, just illuminated by the club’s oil lanterns for you to notice. Giving the pair of you the meticulously laid out plan, Kaz offered a tight nod before watching you disappear into the crowd of pigeons, and out into the cool breeze infiltrating Ketterdam’s night air.

A pair of eyes lingered on your back, until you were far enough away that the raucous customers drowned out your angelic laugh, riding high above the crowd and penetrating the heart of the man you had just turned from. Clutching his cane fiercely, Kaz pushed all thoughts of you aside, burying deep the anxiety rising into his throat, and limping swiftly back up to his office.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

“Come on Y/N, we’re early anyway. Surely a tiny drink won’t hurt, I mean Kaz isn’t,” Jesper started playfully, but you cut him off with a look that could only be replicated with enough study of your boss’s face.

Jesper burst out laughing, infecting your chest with bubbles of joy, bursting out of you in a fit of giggles which set your partner off further. “Sorry Jes, Kaz’s orders. Plus, the sooner this is over, the more we can drink later,” you replied, your voice weakening at the end of the phrase as you suppressed a further attack of laughter.

Once the pair had battled through the biting conditions, gusts of wind cutting at their exposed skin like needles, the heist had run smoothly. Jesper successfully distracted the guards outside the small outlet, resorting to booming gunfire when even his charm had displayed no effect. You dissolved into the shadows, slipping through the doorway to the room that Kaz had suggested held the jewel, something, you supposed, worth far more than its underwhelmingly ragged appearance displayed.

The sound of guns clicking against their holsters alerted you, a shiver of anticipation creeping up your spine, however it dissipated as quickly as it came, once an outline of a ridiculously tall hat appeared on the floorboards. Within moments, Jesper joined you at the entrance of the room, eyes alight with adrenaline, practically buzzing next to you as his body twitched from the excitement of using his guns.

“Right then, lets go get this thing,” Jesper stated dramatically before striding forward with determined steps. Yet the strangled warning and the missed grasp on his wrist came too late, as a floorboard shifted under the sharp-shooter’s weight, concealing the entrance and your only chance of escape.

A soft light emanated from a half-burnt candle on the other side of the cage they now stood in, yet it was enough to catch a flash of regret seize Jesper’s face as he turned towards you.

“Uhmm, I’m guessing that wasn’t supposed to happen, right?” Jesper said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the trap he had triggered. A sigh escaped you, the previous joy from the early evening seeping from you fast, replaced with ice flooding your veins, heart hammering savagely against your chest. As you formulated a response to both calm you down, and relieve Jesper, a hissing sound disrupted the thickening silence.

The sound multiplied, surrounding the pair as they frantically searched for the source of the noise, like as snake threatening its victim before injecting its most lethal venom into its prey. Before the analogy of the snake could panic you further, something caught your eye, forcing you to strain your sight to make out the red shape slithering around on the floorboards. The candle flickered and dimmed, leaving the lightest of red glistens to illuminate the room.

“Jesper,” you choked out, finally comprehending what shape inching towards you was. Yet there was no need for a reply, as a sharp scent infiltrated your nostrils, forcing you to cough violently as the smoke burned your lungs, ripping apart your flesh from the inside out.

Jesper was forcing your name through his lips as he staggered towards you, gripping you tightly in his embrace as his lungs constricted. The pair crashed to the floor as each limb felt severed from the rest, the flickering candle now smothered by the red smoke.

Black filled both crow’s visions, as the gloom consumed them, relieving the burning sensation as their lungs gave out.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

There were truly very few things that could render Kaz Brekker speechless, however the sight of his two closest companions lying lifeless and frigid had utterly shattered him. Inej had shadowed the pair on their mission, under the command of their boss. “Just in case,” he had said to the wraith, but it was evident to her that he was simply worried for the both of you.

The crash of the city clock startled Inej into panic, leading her to the room where she discovered the pair, limbs tangled together and Jesper’s arms encircling your frame.

Dragging both of your limp bodies to a dreg’s owned carriage, Inej rushed you back to the slat, praying frantically to every Saint she could think of. The only sense of relief keeping her sane was the faint breaths emitting from you occasionally.

Now, you were both encased in warmth, the thickest blankets the crows could locate wrapping you up as you laid unmoving on makeshift beds in Kaz’s office. Nina insisted on you being together, allowing her to monitor your heart rates efficiently, the dread that your breathing could cease momentarily consuming the crows.

Wylan sat unmoving from Jesper’s side, constantly tending to him, bringing cool cloths to reduce his fever, or forcing sips of water down his throat, anxiety ripping into him each time he was made to leave.

The boy sat curled up next to his boyfriend, barely speaking apart from breathy rasps of thanks to Nina and Inej for food, or the occasional whispers to Jesper. It was unmistakeable from the minute Inej revealed your unconscious bodies that you had been poisoned, thrusting you into a border between life and death.

Kaz’s reaction differed vastly from the rest of his crows, his initial thoughts not moving to sadness, or worry for your conditions. All he could see was Jordie’s dead body, frigid and ashen, the feel of his clammy skin slipping underneath the fingertips of the younger Rietveld brother. The waves signalled no warning, violently crushing the air from Kaz’s lungs, forcing him to stagger blindly out into the alley behind the slat.

From that moment onwards, Kaz refused to see you. Not out of spite, or callousness, but simply because he couldn’t face it. Perhaps if it were only Jesper, he could summon the courage to venture into his office, maybe even remain for longer than a minute. But you?

It would kill him to see you in that sate again.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Sleep drastically evaded Kaz, the lack of your warm presence during the early hours caused the bastard’s mind to saturate his thoughts with every shade of terror.

Images of your lifeless body crossed over with his brother’s, the picture burning into his eyelids each time he closed his eyes. Since that night, almost a week ago by now, Kaz had not slept more than an hour at a time, and his presence had not been noted once by any of the other crows.

They tried desperately to construct a solution to the venom flowing through your veins, trying the most expensive of doctors, a team of Grisha healers, even antidotes concocted in the slat’s kitchen, yet nothing woke you. Each day unnerved the crows further, the chilling stillness of your bodies showing no sign of regeneration. The lack of activity settling a deeply rooted static into the crows lives.

That was, until Inej burst into his office to break to him the news.

Snatching his cane, Kaz bolted past her, forcefully striking the floor with each heavy step he took as he ascended the stairs. Crashing through the door, Kaz swiftly wove his way past your bed, eyes locked only on Jesper, the sight of your body in his nightmares plaguing him so torturously that he could not bear to even glance at you. As he shouldered past a gaping Nina, the sight before him confirmed the heart-wrenching cries from Wylan, the boy sobbing uncontrollably, his fists grasping at the material on his partners shirt.

Kaz’s gaze lifted to his crow’s eyes, his heart hammering in his ears when a mischievous pair glinted back at him, a weak but lopsided grin painted onto the sharpshooter’s face at the evident concern seizing Kaz’s features. The relief was short lived however, as his veins froze over, the stillness of your body flooding his mind once again with overwhelming anxiety.

“How,” was all Kaz could breathe out, voice low and throaty as emotion took hold of him.

“Whilst Inej and I were downstairs fetching new sheets for them, Wylan stayed up here. He decided at some point he needed some air, so he gave Jesper a kiss before going. But it seemed to have woken him up, and, well, here he is?” Nina offered, the weeps still wracking Wylan, words unable to creep out through the tears that submerged him.

The information buzzed through the air, sinking slowly into Kaz’s consciousness, before his heart plummeted.

The expectant gazes of the others stabbed at him, each knowing glance wrenching at his heart.

What were they all looking at? Surely, they didn’t expect him to be the one to save you? What sort of fool would reciprocate feelings for the ‘bastard of the barrel’? Thousands of questions swarmed Kaz, constricting his lungs once more, as he exited the room as quickly as he had entered.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Days had passed without a single interaction between the crows and their boss, no matter the begging they resorted to outside his door. Each sob, scream, or plead was met with a resounding silence, resulting in a chilling slash to their resolve.

Reality had escaped Kaz, his conscious and unconscious hours blurring into one, the chill of Ketterdam infiltrating his body, worsening the horrors that taunted him. Everything he touched became the decaying of rotting flesh, each shadow a haunting figure bearing either yours or his brothers features. At some points, Kaz could muster the strength to imagine something else, something he had pictured frequently even before the mission had failed.

Your eyes glowing from the gentle moonlight glistening through the window, lips slightly parted as your breath quickens at the proximity. Warmth enveloping the pair of you as Kaz reaches down to caress your cheeks, the heat radiating from them enough to seep through his gloves.

He leans into you, the waves calming at your presence, receding until they gently lapped at his feet. Your lips meet and streams of love radiate between the two of you, creating the only peace Kaz has felt since the fire-pox had plagued the city and stolen his family from him.

However, each vision of you was cut short just as he was finally kissing you, your eyes would gloss over, and your lifeless body would be pressed directly against his. Panic attacks always ensued, but Kaz was unsure of how long this could continue for. His body was weakening with lack of use, bones weighing him down with every movement.

By now the others were gathering downstairs to eat dinner, the sound of Jesper’s laugh signaling his recovery was flowing smoothly. Before his mind could register his bodies actions, he hauled himself up, grabbed his cane, and discreetly made his way up to his office.

To see you.

Every nerve in his body set alight at the sight of you, frozen in time as your chest barely rose with each shallow breath. Yet Kaz pushed through the terror threatening to root him to the floor, forcing himself to pull a chair close to you, knuckles whitening as he clutched his cane to ground himself.

When you didn’t start morphing into Jordie, his mind declared that it was safe enough to remain where he was, albeit on the very edge of his seat, waves smashing into his chest with each breath.

In order to stay with you, he needed to focus on the signs that you were at least somewhat there. Scanning your body, he fixated on the whisps of air escaping your parted lips, the rise and fall of the blankets which engulfed you, the tint on your cheeks from the fire glowing nearby.

You were alive, and it was enough reason for Kaz to stay.

For a long while, he sat silently, an undecipherable gaze glued to your form, thoughts racing through his mind but his body frozen. It was evident enough that the crows thought he could be the one to wake you up, in the same way Wylan had done for Jesper. The thought alone made Kaz outwardly scoff, not only was the idea of a ‘fairy-tale’ kiss as the sole remedy absurd, but the fact they believed you could love him enough for it to work.

Yes, you spent hours helping him through mountains of paperwork, bringing him sustenance when forgets to eat, clearing up his room when he is too engrossed in his work to notice, or even keeping him company with a book so he can rest peacefully. But you were kind, too kind for the Barrels harsh realities he thought, although it only rarely stole your spark. Your extra care for Kaz was likely due to concern, how could it be out of anything like love?

The evening drew closer, light fading as twilight enshrouded the city, the chatter from downstairs becoming quieter as the group parted ways to rest. Knowing his time was running out, Kaz Brekker did something he never thought he could.

Kaz Brekker lent down and kissed you.

Immediately sparks ignited within him, lighting him on fire in a way he had never experienced before, however the flames were extinguished quickly, as the freezing waves crashed against him.

They rose exceedingly swiftly, signaling him to retreat into his isolation, awkwardly stumbling out of the office and slamming the door to his room, body shaking violently at the action he had accomplished.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

The moment the door to his office shut, your eyes fluttered open, light scorching them from lack of use, head throbbing but the sensation of being conscious offering you some relief. Your lips tingled, a phantom feeling of something brushing against them consuming your thoughts.

Although you were slipping from the waking world constantly, the sight of your weeping friends and their grateful smiles in the intervals where you awoke granted you enough strength to recover quickly.

One face was unsurprisingly absent throughout your healing, the cold façade of the boss only gracing you once the others were gone, keeping you company in a strange but not unwelcomed silence. With each day you regained your radiant energy, even walking short distances with the aid of Kaz’s cane.

Once you had fully returned, you grew curious as to how you had awoken, startled at the revelation that Wylan saved Jesper with his love. There was no way the person you held affections for would ever do the same.

Could he?

Throwing a sly grin towards you, Nina stated, “Well we don’t truly know what brought you back, but I did catch a certain gang leader looking ever so shaky as he fled from the room. It just so happened that when I saw you next you were awake. What an odd thing,” using a dramatically exasperated tone, the mischievous spark in her eye confirming your suspicions.

Turning every shade of red, you buried your face in your hands, only peeking out from a small gap between your fingers. Just as a compass finds its bearings, your gaze gravitated straight towards Kaz.

As you peered up, you noticed he was positioned directly opposite on the far side of the Crow club, noting the pink tint that dusted his cheeks, just illuminated enough for you to catch. His gaze was unreadable but uncommonly gentle, and moments passed before you recognised what he was staring at.

He was fixated on you

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz Brekker taglist: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @swhisperer @sleepynightchild @atlasiiae @kaiinohh @sannunah28 @at-the-chateau @withbeautyandragendrage @animalistic00 @whos6claire @any-corrie (please comment if you would like to be added to the Kaz Brekker taglist)

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #requests open #grishaverse

1K notes · View notes

solheimisms · 2 years

Text

TAG DUMP

#headcanon. ❖﹙ i don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me ⋄ i'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams. ﹚#musings. ❖﹙ i don't like your kingdom keys ⋄ they once belonged to me. ﹚#promos. ❖﹙ you made a really deep cut ⋄ and baby now we got bad blood. ﹚#psa. ❖﹙ take those mental shackles off and throw them away. ﹚#blog updates. ❖﹙ for so long your focus has been taken away ⋄ now you're breaking away. ﹚#out of character. ❖﹙ come inside and be afraid of this impressive mess i've made. ﹚#mains call. ❖﹙ now did you think it all through ⋄ all these things will catch up to you. ﹚#saved. ❖﹙ and then the world moves on but one thing's for sure ⋄ maybe i got mine but you'll all get yours. ﹚#selfpromo. ❖﹙ i'm sorry but the old miri can't come to the phone right now ⋄ why? oh cause she's dead. ﹚#dash games. ❖﹙ did you think we'd be fine? still got scars on my back from your knife. ﹚#music. ❖﹙ i see how this is gonna go ⋄ island breeze and lights down low. ﹚#visuals. ❖﹙ so don't think it's in the past ⋄ these kinds of wounds they last and they last. ﹚#ic meme. ❖﹙ but if I'm a thief then you can join the heist ⋄ and we'll move to an island. ﹚#ooc meme. ❖﹙ i forget their names now ⋄ i'm so very tame now. ﹚#answered. ❖﹙ i've got a list of names ⋄ and yours is in red underlined. ﹚#starter call. ❖﹙ i see nothing better ⋄ i'll keep you forever like a vendetta. ﹚#past. ❖﹙ but if he's a ghost then i can be a phantom ⋄ holding him for ransom. ﹚#me1. ❖﹙ i don't like your perfect crime ⋄ how you laugh when you lie. ﹚#me2. ❖﹙ but i got smarter ⋄ i got harder in the nick of time. ﹚#me3. ❖﹙ honey i rose up from the dead ⋄ i do it all the time. ﹚#me3 au. ❖﹙ you said the gun was mine ⋄ isn't cool no i don't like you. ﹚#postwar. ❖﹙ you asked me for a place to sleep ⋄ locked me out and threw a feast. ﹚#open starter. ❖﹙ i don't like your little games ⋄ don't like your tilted stage. ﹚#andromeda. ❖﹙ the world goes on another day another drama ⋄ but not for me all i think about is karma. ﹚#plot call. ❖﹙ i don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me ⋄ i'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams. ﹚

0 notes

brothermouse-skeleton · 2 months

Text

Reading through Arcanum Unbounded and here's what I got:

The Emperor's Soul:

Local woman is so focused on her hyper fixation (crime) that she almost forgets to take care of her basic needs (not getting murdered as part of a government cover up to hide the fact that they're pulling a "Weekend At Bernie's")

Hope of Elantris

It's so sappy. Soooooo sappy. I will fight anyone who tries to take it from me.

The Eleventh Metal

Yeah this explains a little bit about why Kelsier is like that.

Allomancer Jak And the Pits of Eltania

I can see why Wax hated being compared to this guy. He's a mess, he's mostly illiterate, he has no idea where he is or what he's doing, he is a disaster on two legs. I would definitely read a weekly article about his misadventures.

Mistborn: Secret Hystory

Kelsier is great because after getting bitch slapped so hard he saw God he:

Jumped God

Bullied God into joining his gang

Conned his way into being immortal

Sassed the man who killed him

Heist movied his way into becoming God

Conned the Devil

Jumped the Devil, did not let him join his gang

Sixth of the Dusk

I love that Dusk spends most of the story respecting nature but the moment he learns about guns he’s like “yo, you could kill every horrible monster in the word with this!” And when Vathi is all like “That would ruin the ecosystem” Dusk is like “f*ck the ecosystem and especially f*ck them monsters, I wanna live”

Edgedancer

I have been on my library’s waitlist for “The Way of Kings” for months now so this is my first look into Roshar. I like it. I want more of this feral child running around town like a greased up hog.

#brandon sanderson #mistborn #cosmere #wax and wayne

313 notes · View notes

happyyyandcrazyyy · 2 years

Text

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.

6K notes · View notes