#Kaz taking care of his crows

[multishipper001]

Kaz Brekker really gives me older sibling vibes (despite being the younger brother in his family)

He had to learn how to take responsibility for others the hard way, and became a honorary older sibling to everyone around him. His methods may be questionable but so is their situation, and he has to solve shit somehow (given how everyone expects him to pull the solutions of their problem out of his ass immediately)

He really didn't have it easy, the poor guy. No wonder he's a bit fucked in the head

(I love him)

[greedbent]

in case it's not already 1000000% obvious how goddamn awful kaz is—and gives everyone reason to want to dropkick him, which i invite—i also want to shame him by announcing his lack of sympathy toward other people's problems

the way he sees it, moaning and groaning and whining incessantly over some sort of issue (even physical injuries) isn't going to solve any problems and just makes you look like a Soft Baby who will be taken advantage of if you keep behaving like that

sure, not everyone is built to get back up again after they've been knocked down not everyone has the strength and resilience to keep going no matter what, but those people who don't have that strength...?

aren't worth kaz's time

you have a problem? do something about it. don't just whimper oh, you've been stabbed? walk it off

but hey, yknow? if he cares about you enough, he'll absolutely make the life of whoever wronged you a living hell, so... romance isn't dead—

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.

or

it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.

or

“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”

warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 @demitriacalynn (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!

i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.

Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.

It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.

ii. you break, i mend.

Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.

The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.

Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.

He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.

‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.

Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.

He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.

The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.

(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.

“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.

Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.

(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.

By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”

The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.

(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.

“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. ��Blood’s not mine.”

Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.

Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.

It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.

Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.

“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.

The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.

Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.

“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.

“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”

She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.

“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.

“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.

Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”

Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.

Saints.

It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.

The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.

“Are you with me?”

No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.

It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.

“None of that.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. It’s okay.”

The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.

“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.

“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”

“I know.”

A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”

Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.

It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.

“If you break, I mend, remember?”

(mend

BREAK)

Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.

Saints be damned.

Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.

iii. a raven and a crow

The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.

He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.

It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.

“Inej?”

“Good.”

Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.

“Jes?”

“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.

He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.

The goods are safe.

“Nina?”

“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.

There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…

His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.

Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.

And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.

(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.

And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.

There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.

Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.

Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.

“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.

For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.

She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”

Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)

“You’ve got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”

His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.

“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.

Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.

(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.

“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.

Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.

“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”

“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.

“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”

(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”

He pouts.

“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”

He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”

Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.

“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.

It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.

He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”

It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.

“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.

“A raven?”

“Yeah.”

Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.

Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”

Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.

And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.

(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”

Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.

“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.

Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.

(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”

Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.

She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”

(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.

“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”

“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.

“You know it’s true.”

He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.

Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”

And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.

Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.

“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”

The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.

“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.

(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.

“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”

Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.

“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.

“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.

(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”

It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.

The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.

R.

A Raven.

No fucking way.

He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.

Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.

(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)

iv. a broken lock and a key

Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)

(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.

After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.

He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.

Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.

On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.

So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.

It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.

Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.

“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”

(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”

And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.

He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.

She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.

“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.

He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”

“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.

“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.

“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.

“You’re gonna keep me company?”

Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”

She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.

It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.

Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”

(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.

“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.

“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.

There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.

She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”

He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”

“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.

And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”

He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.

To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”

His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.

“What?”

There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.

“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.

Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.

v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.

As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.

“Did you finally figure it out?”

He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.

“What?”

She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.

“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”

Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”

“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”

“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”

“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”

Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?

“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”

He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.

“Yeah.”

“Actually?”

She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.

“Got the documents to prove it, too.”

Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”

“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."

Jesper understands.

He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.

Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.

“Lovers, huh?”

(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.

“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”

[evellynssocbrainrot]

I love how every time I reread Six of Crows, I pick up something new. And this time, something new I picked up was the fact that Kaz was running around and engaging in the Ice Court heist on not only a bad leg, but also several fractured and untended bones which he got when he jumped down from a couple of crates with Inej in his arms. On top of that, the packet of bombs and lock picks were stuffed down his gullet the whole time and he brought them up every hour. And last but absolutely not the least, towards the ending of the heist, he fell into ice cold water and drowned so his heart stopped for a bit, Matthias gave him CPR that was really him near-cracking Kaz's sternum, so Nina, bless her, had to take over and revive Kaz with her powers.

And even then, after he was awake, he dragged himself up a wall, rode a tank, and then proceeded to put himself through even more hell in the next book.

This kid is in severe need of both therapy and a long vacation. Someone, I don't care who, give him a damned Rubik's cube and make him sit for once.

[ramen8008]

Kaz would drag every one of the crows if they were stabbed during the attack when Inej was, or any other situation that had any of them get hurt.

Sure maybe not during the beginning (and even if it'd be because they were essential to the plan) but he would because that's his fucking family whether he admits it or not.

*Vin diesel voice* And Family is important

HERE ME OUT!

--------------

Jesper, Kaz is dragging him out of there whether it's Jesper's fault or not. He'll either full on fireman carry that man or support him using his shoulder insulting him with every step.

"You're an idiot for getting stabbed"

"what was I- then why are you helping me?"

"Don't take it personally, you're still in debt to me"

"fuck you"

-------------------------------

Wylan, Kaz is throwing him over his shoulder or princess carrying him. Wylan does not like it, and somehow with his pain he still manages to voice his displeasure.

"I don't like this"

"you're not the first, nobody likes getting stabbed. I'd be surprised if you did"

"I mean you carrying me bridal style"

"you're dying and you still have the ability to be nitpicky? Pfft- merchants"

----------------------

Nina, Kaz isn't leaving her behind, he's either one, supporting her by the shoulder like Jesper or two, also carrying her in bridal style.

"[slipping in and out of consciousness] huh, expected you to leave me for the dead. Awww you care"

"don't die on me, I swear if I'm carrying you to the ship with my crippled leg just for you to die-"

"how chivalrous of you"

"don't get used to it"

----------------------------

Matthias, pfft if you think Kaz is letting that guy go when he can do anything about it you've never been more wrong. Kaz is dragging that giant hunk of a man by any means necessary.

"couldn't let me be at peace could you?"

"I'm a demon, aren't I? Well, hell needs you for a little while longer"

"How are you even supporting me?"

"purely by will power and spite"

[petertingle-yipyip]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS - KAZ BREKKER

Pairing: Kaz x Reader (established) // Word Count: 3,146

Summary: (request) Can you write an x reader with Kaz Brekker orr Nikolai where they have this secret relationship(others have secrets as well) that stays between them but the reader goes missing and suddenly everything is in chaos and secrets are uncovered?

You hissed as you lowered yourself into the tub of ice water.

The entirety of your body ached. It wasn’t that the specific fights of that night took that heavy a toll, but more so the encompassing fatigue of seven fights in the past seventy-two hours.

Your knees and elbows were bruised from slamming them into your opponents. All of your knuckles were raw and cracked, a mix of your opponents’ and your own blood dried across your skin. Your ribs ached, likely cracked if not broken. Both eyes were heavy and puffy so you closed them. Your lower lip was split wide and several teeth felt loose. Not to mention the slight whistle that came from breathing through your nose. You groaned to yourself as you sunk deeper into the cold so it reached your chin, wishing for the presence of the usual Healer.

The knock that sounded at the door wasn’t his. It was heavier, like an object hitting the door rather than a hand. It wasn’t the Healer but you considered him the next best thing. Your silence was enough of an invitation and the door creaked open.

“I always seem to fight better when you’re here.” You commented easily.

“Showing off then?” He teased.

You laughed slightly, wincing almost immediately with the stitch in your side. “For you, my dear?” You turned towards him and opened your eyes, meeting his ever-surveying gaze as he sat in the nearby chair. “Always.” You smiled.

The corners of his mouth twitched as if he would return the gesture. Instead, his gloved fingers found your chin and turned your face to all angles as he examined your collection of wounds. You pulled away carefully and his frown deepened.

“I’ll see a Healer before I leave.” You promised. “You don’t need to worry so much.”

“That Fjerdan did a number on you.” He complained, resting his elbows on his knees. His cane was resting against the side of the tub. “You shouldn’t have taken the match.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I would’ve ended up against him next week if I didn’t do it now.”

“You would’ve been in better shape by then.”

“Imagine that.” You grinned teasingly. “The infamous Dirtyhands, legendary Bastard of the Barrel, concerning himself with the well-being of a street fighter.”

“A street fighter with the good sense of a pigeon.” He muttered.

You laughed again, ignoring the pain as best you could.

“Your pigeons may have more, actually.” You grumbled and shifted in the ice. “How’d your winnings fair?”

“I don’t bet on your fights.” He scoffed.

“No?” You raised a brow at him. “It’d be easy kruge. I’m almost offended.”

“I should try harder then.”

You flicked some of the cold water from your fingers at him.

“As soon as I do, they’ll say your fights are rigged.” He reasoned.

“And they’d be the same ones that’d cower if I were to challenge them. I don’t care what they say, Kaz.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

He said nothing. Of course he said nothing. You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. You reached a hand towards him and he took it in a loose hold.

You two stayed like that for a little while longer, exchanging small talk and updates. You promised to stop by the Crow Club the next night if he promised to put money on your next fight. Begrudgingly, he agreed. Though he made a point to say that it was only because he had to make sure you had gone to the Healer.

He helped you out of the tub before he left, even taking the time to wrap the towel around your shoulders. You placed a quick kiss on his cheek before he left. Even though you two had been seeing each other in secret for a bit and he was comfortable enough for some contact without barriers, he still grew red in his cheeks when you kissed him. It always made you giggle, which made him redden a bit more.

“Make sure nobody sees you leave.” You said through your laugh.

“You think so little of me.” He clicked his tongue, threw you a short-lived smile, then disappeared out the door.

You stayed in the ice room for a bit longer. It usually helped avoid suspicions so you used the time to dry your hair.

It was his idea to keep your relationship with Kaz under wraps for a bit. You conceded to the secrecy because you wanted to have Kaz as more than just a regular. You met him before you started fighting, while he was still just the lieutenant. As he took over the Dregs, he insisted that you had to remain safe and he always kept his secrets safe.

It was tedious to dry off and tie your hair up with the soreness across your body. Changing was an even longer task but you managed, then visited the Healer. You were chastised there as well but you tuned out the man’s rants, something about your arrogance and a death wish.

When you were heading out, you ran into a few men in the alley. You recognized them as regulars from the fights but you had never heard their names. The way they looked at you didn’t sit right in your stomach so you shifted your bag on your shoulder with one hand, slipping the other in to find the brass knuckles buried deep in your jacket pocket.

“What is this?” You said carefully. Your fingers found the cold metal and slipped into the holes.

“You’re Brekker’s fighter.” One of them said.

“I’ve no affiliation with the Dregs or Dirtyhands.” You lied smoothly. “I suggest you keep walking before you end up missing your teeth.”

“How much you think he’ll give to get her back?” He asked his friends.

You carefully began to step backwards.

“Enough to set us up for while.” The shorter, stockier one answered. “Even more if he’s desperate.”

“How would that work?” The skinniest one asked.

“Break her.”

You bolted down the alley at that. Your aching joints protested but you refused to slow down, refused to falter. You didn’t know those men but the threat was clear. They would use you to get to Kaz and whatever issues they had with him weren’t for you to be dragged into. You had freed your hand by the time you reached a busier part of the area.

You dared a glance over your shoulder but saw no one pursuing you. The lack of followers didn’t sit right with you but you decided not to chance it. You turned and attempted to blend into the crowd again.

It worked for a while, three or four alleys went by without incident. You knew better than to get comfortable, especially when the crowd thinned. Your fist tightened around the metal weapon around your raw fingers and your eyes were constantly moving. You searched faces, looking for some clue as to where they went, but they blended in as well as you believed you did. There was no sign of them.

You kept your head down and put more urgency into your strides. All you could think was to get to the Crow Club. Kaz wouldn’t let anyone near you, and if Kaz wasn’t there, it was about time to meet his friends anyway.

Less than two blocks away, a thick forearm wrapped around your neck from behind and dragged you away. A scratchy bag was thrown over your head, your bag yanked away and the brass knuckles pried off your fingers. You tried to scream, tried to kick or punch or scratch, but every attempt was thwarted. A hand across your mouth from the other side of the bag muffled your voice. Your flailing feet came up empty and your wrists were caught and yanked in front of you to be tightly bound.

You were caught.

And you were convinced you were going to die.

Two days after seeing Y/N, Kaz received a strange message.

There was no signature from the sender, no patron of a Barrel gang or even a name. It was oddly anonymous and that didn’t sit right with him. He ushered everyone out of his office while he read the scrawled handwriting.

50000 kruge or she dies

The threat made his stomach drop and anger flare in his blood.

Someone had gotten to Y/N. His Y/N. A new rage he’d never experienced sunk into his bones and he was ready to burn all of Kerch around him. His gloved hand tightened on the scrap of parchment while his brain whirled to come up with a plan.

The note was ridiculous. There was no indication of who had her, which was the only part that made sense, but there also wasn’t anywhere to meet. How was he expected to pay them if there was no where to meet? How was he expected to contact them to set up a meeting with nothing?

Amatuers. A haphazard note with no intention behind it other than greed, and of Kaz knew one thing, it was greed. Greed and torture.

Torture was sounding like an even better option with every passing second.

Too many frustrating questions plagued him and he slammed the note to his desk. He swiped his arm across the surface and threw a stack of several books to the floor.

He wouldn’t give them the money. There was no way in hell he’d give in to any sort of blackmail. But he couldn’t stand by and let them have her. He couldn’t let her get hurt. He needed a plan, and he needed his best crew.

Inej would have to find Y/N, have to scout out the building and find a weakness. Wylan and Jesper would be needed to help with either demolition or distraction, likely both. Nina would be needed in case he was too late and they hurt her. Mattias would be needed as muscle to get through any guards. And he’d need them all to hold him back if even one mark was left on her.

He abruptly moved towards the door to gather his Crows when a sudden realization dawned on him.

Someone knew what Y/N meant to him. Despite his caution and insistence that they keep their relationship private - Y/N liked to say it was sacred - someone found out and was using it against him. They were making Y/N a pawn and Kaz wouldn’t stand for that.

He decided with swift assurance that the people who took her would die for it.

With that, however, he understood he had to come clean to his Crows. They were all loyal to him to a fault, but they were also so goddamned stubborn that they would want to know. He counted on Jesper being the one to press the issue first and then they would all chime in and want to know.

It was either come clean or do nothing.

Just the idea of doing nothing ate at Kaz more than the idea of confessing to his friends. They were bound to find out sooner or later, weren’t they? With a reluctant sigh, he headed to collect his inner circle.

“I knew it!” Nina practically shouted after his admittance.

“You did not.” Matthias laughed. “You thought he was off doing drugs.”

“This is how we meet her?” Jesper was offended. “Through a rescue mission?”

“Better than nothing.” Wylan shrugged.

“I knew you were up to something.” Inej smirked.

Every response made him consider throwing himself into the Harbor.

“Y/L/N’s a widely known name. Someone taking her isn’t likely to stay quiet for long.” Inej reasoned. “Do you think this is intended to make a point to you?”

“I don’t recognize the handwriting.” He dropped the pathetic note to the table.

“It’s lazy.” Jesper commented as he threw a hand in a gesture towards the note. “Nowhere to meet. No signature. There’s no pizzazz anymore.” He sighed.

“You have enough pizzazz for us all.” Nina promised.

“Maybe we can find the messenger?” Wylan offered.

“Find them and send the idiots a message of our own.” Nina nodded. “Simple enough.”

“Get on it then.” He ordered then went back to his office.

Inej was on his heels immediately.

“What will you do when we find her?” She asked. There were no undertones or accusations in her voice. Just a simple curiosity.

What would Kaz do?

“Find her if you’re that interested in finding out.” He spat instead.

Inej chuckled to herself, a sound of triumph, then disappeared without so much a creak of floorboards. When he was sure he was alone, in his office with the door firmly closed, he let out a long breath.

He wasn’t quite sure how, but he’d make the men who touched Y/N hurt.

You were on what you thought was your fourth day of capture. The sun only came through a tiny slit in the window, enough for you to just feel on your face if you sat in the right spot. Your hands were bound with a long strip of cloth but you were able to walk the small room. There was a table with a few worn out books, a chair and a cot, threadbare blankets and a pillow, too pathetic to really call it that.

There was no Barrel noise. No doormen luring pigeons, no Pleasure Houses tempting men and women alike, no gambling, no ruckus, no fights. It was the quieter side of Ketterdam, either nearer to the University or the Merchant’s homes. Either way, you knew you’d feel wildly out of place if you stepped outside.

Five times a day so far you were visited by your captors. They never spoke their names and you noted no tattoos on their skin. Whoever these men were, they were rogues. The idea made you uncomfortable. At least if it was a specific gang that wanted you, you could link it back to something specific Kaz did. With these men, they just wanted Kaz.

What the hell the Bastard did, you had no idea. Which meant you’d suffer for it.

Two molars were knocked loose and left on the floor the first day. Your nose had cracked that same day, likely broken. Your left eye had swollen shut on the second, after your head was slammed to the table and a gash opened on your forehead. Your shirtfront was stained with blood and it seeped through the fabric, sticking it to your torso.

Your shoulder was tweaked, not quite dislocated but it wasn’t fully mobile. You couldn’t breathe deeply without pain. You limped rather than walked. The only thing that seemed unaffected were your hands.

You pretended not to be covered in bruises beneath your clothes when banging came from the door. You clenched your jaw and sat on the edge of the cot. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for the assault.

So far, there was no definitive answer if the questions or the punches would come first. Would it be just punches this time or would one of them bring the length of pipe again? Would they break something else, make good on the threat to crush your fingers?

One of them threatened to start cutting off pieces - fingertips, ears, toes, hands - and send them to Kaz. ‘As a gift’, he said. You’d bitten his hand soon after that threat, which led to the loss of those two teeth.

When the beating never came, you opened your eyes.

Standing before you was Kaz, offering you his gloved hands.

You grinned, ignoring the pain, and accepted his help to stand. Those nimble fingers undid the knot of fabric and freed your hands. You rotated both wrists, flexed your hands, then threw your arms around your boyfriend. You ignored the slamming pain in your ribs, the stabbing pain in your shoulder, the unsteady feeling in your head at the sudden action.

You simply held him close and whispered prayers of thanks. Kaz was stiff for a moment before melting into the embrace. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other hand was on the back of your neck.

“You’re alright.” He said quietly.

“You came.” You squeaked. Your voice was cracked, throat raw, but you spoke nonetheless.

“Of course I did.”

“How did you know? How did you find me?”

“We can talk about it later.” He took a small step back and examined the damage. “They’ll die for this, Y/N. Every single one of them.”

“Slowly?”

He nodded.

“Painfully?”

“Excruciatingly so.”

“Good.” You nodded.

Ever so gently, his hand came to your cheek. You couldn’t fight the instinct to lean into his palm.

“Have you slept at all?” You asked gently. “You look like you’ve been up for days…”

“For you, my dear, I’d ruin myself a thousand times over.” He said quietly, a confession only you were meant to hear. “You are all that matters.”

“You have to take care of yourself too, Kaz.” You frowned.

“I’ll sleep tonight, when you’re safe beside me.”

“But your friends…”

A crash came from down the hall. You flinched and stepped away from Kaz, instinctively raising your hands. You fought through pain before, and if it meant your freedom, you’d fight through a bullet in the chest. Two men tumbled into the room, neither were your captors.

“There you are, Boss.” One of them smiled to Kaz.

“You must be Y/N.” The other one, a bit shorter with goggles atop his head. “Wylan.” He smiled.

Your brows furrowed but you said nothing.

“She looks good, all things considered.” The first one spoke again, flashing you a bright smile. “Jesper.”

“You’re his crew…” You realized. “And you came for me?”

“Well, yeah.” Wylan shrugged. “What else were we supposed to do?”

“I guess-“ You shook your head. “I didn’t expect you two, is all.”

“It’s not just us. We’ve got three more out front.” Jesper gestured to the open doorway.

“Tell me one of them is a Healer?” You looked back to Kaz.

“You should know I come prepared.” He answered, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a half smile.

“My hero.” You teased.

“Guess it’s time for introductions then.” He was looking at Kaz.

“Saints help me.” You muttered.

Jesper and Wylan led you out. You stayed beside Kaz, your limped stride ironically matching his. Jesper talked the whole time and Wylan added a few comments. You could feel yourself growing more overwhelmed with each painful step but you were tired of heads down, clandestine meetings, pretending you weren’t in love with Kaz.

Despite less than ideal circumstances, you were thankful to finally shine a light on your relationship.

You tapped the back of your hand against his and silently, keeping his eyes forward, his gloved fingers laced through yours.

[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

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

one. he smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Please never say that sentence again.”

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

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

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

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

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

“Well, no—”

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

“The plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Schatje.”

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

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

two. the demjin.

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

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

“You're back.”

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

“You're alright, schatje?”

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

“What did you do?”

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

“You went after them.”

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

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

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

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

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

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

“I am sorry, schatje.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

iii. the marketplace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

iv. the marriage certificate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

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

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

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

“Ask him about it.”

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

“How did you find out anyway?”

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

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

[ ].

[dasiesanddarkness]

one of the things that is so beautiful about six of crows is that it shows that unusual romantic relationships are okay. it shows real trauma responses and how they affect your romantic relationships, and has characters actually working through them instead of just finding "the one" and everything being fine and dandy.

(I will be talking specifically about kanej with some mentions of wesper and helnik)

too often romance books take trauma (especially trauma surrounding abuse and sexual assault) and romanticize it. they wanna swoon over the boy that can't stand skin to skin contact but meets a girl and is "fixed", and they want to see the girl that was sold into sexual slavery finally find a boy that fucks her so good she's cured. they don't want to see characters actually properly heal- they want healing to be easy, to be straightforward and simple.

an exfriend of mine loved romance books, and when she started reading soc she loved Kaz and Inej's relationship and the way they interacted (she had no interest in helnik because their enemies to lovers thing wasnt sexually charged enough, and she couldnt have cared less about wesper because it was a queer relationship and she was straight and "not interested"). but as soon as they started having actual problems related to Kaz's haphephobia, she lost interest. she wanted them to kiss and have sex normally, because she wanted him to meet Inej and choose her and have all his trauma be "solved". at the end of the books the most they do is hold hands, and that's not enough for the romance enthusiasts. in reality, it was a huge milestone for Kaz and a wonderful moment for Inej, who realizes Kaz is willing to put in the work. but because its not a kiss and its not sex, its boring and slow. she didn't want to see the actual process of healing, just the before and after.

but relationships are messy, and slow moving, and diverse, and a million other things. books that make them seem straightforward and simple all too often do a disservice to the people reading them, because they come to expect that in real life when that's not the way relationships work. People have to unlearn things and figure shit out. And soc normalizes that process, which is so very important.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

The way of the water

request: can i have some kaz x grisha!reader where she's a tidemaker and during a heist he falls into the water and she uses her powers to pull him out and helps him through a panic attack? hurt/comfort and preferably established relationship pls and thx

a/n I am so tired that I do not know what this is. And I really apologize if it is bad.

warning: drowning?, fear of water, not really played into his touch aversion.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Kaz was convinced that you were simply his best investment. A quick and smart way of dealing with his fear of water. He had torn earth and sky. Put at least five bullets between different merchants' eyes before he found you locked in a glass tomb. For a moment, you looked repulsive to him. Floating in the water like a corpse. But then again, he remembered the gossip. The way the creature was forced into a trance. It had been the only way to drag you out of the village the salesman had raided once the word about your kind spread. Just you didn’t remind him of a creature...

“Unlock her," Kaz had muttered to Jasper, who had stood gaping like a fish himself, “and I don’t know... offer her water." Kaz had glanced one more time at you. “Very funny, boss," Jasper hissed. “You do know that she could bite my head off and drown me once I...", but Jasper was only met with a slam of the door.

The weeks that followed left Kaz both satisfied and frustrated. You had tried to run only five times in a span of two weeks. In an angry haze, Kaz had locked you against the staircase railing. Much to everyone’s displeasure. But then he only managed to sit in his office for an hour before he found himself reaching for his cane.

“Extend your leg," he muttered, watching as the droplets fell to the floor. Your angry eyes darted toward him. “Sometimes I’m glad you can’t move blood," he muttered under his breath. “Careful, maybe you don’t know all of my tricks," you huffed, pulling your chained leg beneath yourself. Kaz inhaled deeply. He needed you. There was no use in you if you just sulked.

“You do know that I wasn’t the one who brought you here. I saved you from a very bleak existence. You should be thankful," he said blankly. “My apologies; you want me to bow or kneel?”, you scowled back. “I don’t want to exploit you, I..." Kaz swallowed thickly. He hadn’t told anyone why he had been so close to obsessively looking for you. He was sure they had found their conclusions on their own. “I need your help," he finished.

Kaz watched as curiosity flicked in your gaze. He knew that you weren’t going to ask. You could very well just sit there for hours. “I don’t like... I have a complicated relationship with water." For some reason, Kaz was waiting for you to start laughing. Make a joke. But the expression on your face didn’t change. If anything, the harsh frown eased up. “It… I had to be near corpses during the plague”, Kaz pulled at the suit he was wearing as his throat slowly closed up with anxiety. But then, in a heartbeat, the air in the room shifted. The dripping of the leaks in the roof faded to nothing. Kaz lifted his head to assess the droplets turning to mist the moment they entered the room. Once he glanced back down, he found you standing with the chained leg extended to him. He held your gaze for a moment before nodding. A silent understanding taking shape between you both.

“It’s an easy job. Pick up the document and go." It had been a while since any job had come into Kaz’s view. One he would like to take on, at least. Until now. He needed that handbook, the new shipment trades, and the new substance that had leaked into the market. “Worst-case scenario, there’s a harbor," Kaz tapped onto the map. His eyes caught yours across the room. He had sworn to never involve you in the Six Crows business but caved in after watching you wilt into nothing for weeks. So now he just offered you the safest job he could find. To stand watch. To leave false trails. To watch his back if a big body of water was near.

“Fourth floor. You will go through here." Kaz quickly averted his gaze. “I will scale the outside wall." He could hear the sharp breath you had taken in. He knew why. The side wall was bordered by the edge of the dock. Kaz swallowed thickly and said, “Get me that fucking book," before folding the map up and showing it into the top drawer of the desk.

The salty water kissed your skin as you slowly walked into the waves. You knew that Kaz watched you from his spot. You could feel his eyes on you. It had been weird the last few months. Going from full terror to finding a strange family of sorts. Yet still, it was Kaz who intrigued you the most. It was unusual the relationship between you two. If you could even call it that. You rarely talked, but then it never felt like you had to. He understood. And when he wanted you to be there when he tried to overcome his fear of water, you would just linger there. Like a phantom touch. Guarding him. And then he would stand there looking at you for hours. Eyes pouring more than words could ever tell.

You are the one watching him now. Like a shadow. Crawling up the wall. Each move is calculated, each move is planned out. Covered by the waves crashing against the shore. It always bugged you in the moments when you couldn’t see him. When he was inside the building, outside of your sight. You couldn’t protect him there. Even if Jasper had told you time after time that it was you and all of them that needed saving from Kaz, not the other way around.

A loud bang sent your head shooting up to the balcony. Voices following through. Shouts. Glass braking. The light flickering on throughout the whole upper floor. One that was supposed to stay undisturbed. Your own heart picked up in pace. Then the dark coat appeared, swaying in the wind. Another figure leaped upfront. The two wrestle in the tight spaces. A loud snap. And there it was. The time stopped still as a flash of Kaz’s face eliminated by the moon glimpsed by right as his body was forced over the railing. You had barely managed to swallow his name while diving into the waves. Forcing your body to move as fast as possible.

The free fall felt short, but the impact of the water felt as if Kaz had been drowning for an eternity. He didn’t even realize that he was falling into the water. He was prepared for hard ground. But the panic that filled his body when he was submerged made him let out a gasp. Filling his lungs with salty water. Memories of the past clasped clammy hands all over him, dragging him deeper and deeper. The light from the moon fading away.

And then it’s as if he’s wrapped in an invisible net. Kaz blinks once, and it’s you there. Right in front of him. By some absolute stupidity, he tries to call out your name. Letting more water into his lungs. Your eyes grow big, and then your fingers are grasping for him. Kaz catches that apologetic expression on your face before you pull him closer to you. Lips crashing into his, and at once it feels as if his lungs don’t remember how to breathe or how to welcome that gust of oxygen. But he’s holding onto you regardless. Feeling the fear fade away until it all goes black.

“Look at me," you frantically tap at Kaz’s cheek. Breathing heavily. The very tips of the waves still kissing your legs. You didn’t have enough energy to pull you both out fully. Feet slipping beneath the wet sand. Making you fall over, with Kaz’s body following right with you. "Kaz," you press your ear against his chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat, but you’re too anxious and too shaky to distinguish anyway.

“Why aren’t you waking up? Wake up!" You whine in frustration, pressing your lips against his now-blue ones. A kiss from you had to be enough. Had to breathe him back to life. You couldn’t have been too late. Couldn’t have. And then Kaz jerks, sitting up in a rush, his pained coughs slipping past his lips. You don’t dare to touch him now. You know he doesn’t like it. You had already overstepped as it was, but now.

“What the fuck?", he hissed through clenched teeth, making you drop your gaze. “Are you out of your mind?”, Kaz was coughed once again. Now you could see a sharp gash in his forehead. Still leaking blood. Your fingers traced the wet sand. “I saved it," you muttered, handing him the book he had come for—one that fell alongside him into the water. Kaz rips it out of your grasp, throwing it to the side. His fingers wrap around your wrist. “Are you insane?”, he hisses, pulling you closer. “You could have gotten hurt; they could have very well shot at you." His words hit you like a blow, leaving you speechless as you glanced up at him.

“Your arm." You want to laugh at how insane this is. Had you too hit your heads? Why is he concerned with... “What happened to your hand?” Kaz demands, making you glance down at the torn flesh. He was too heavy for you to lift up the dock. You tried. Unfortunately, that resulted in you slipping, and since you were too afraid to let go of his body, your arm met the sharp edge of the hook that was left carelessly there.

The sound of the shirt being ripped makes you blink. And here he stands. Taring his shirt up before grasping your hand as he wraps it around. “Your head," you mutter, "You," "It’s a scuff," Kaz grunts, his fingers shaking the longer he touches you. You back away slightly, not wanting him to do something he’s uncomfortable with. But Kaz’s wild eyes meet yours, making you still. “Next time," he breathes out, “Next time, you swim away without looking back.”

He drops your arm, turning away from you. Brushing his shaky fingers through his messy hair. “There will be no next time," you mutter, making Kaz turn around so quickly it makes you jolt. “There will be no next time," you continue once again, “because I will be right there, right under, and you will never get to feel what drowning feels like." Your hands wrap into fists as angry tears roll down your face. Kaz shakes his head. “You silly girl," he huffs, stopping closer to you. Not daring to touch you, but enough to feel your body close. Enough to feel whatever that is left of both of your bodies's warmth bouncing off of each other. Kaz takes a deep breath, "I would rather drown over and over again than see you get hurt again.”

[swanimagines]

MASKS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: You are incredibly beautiful but you have always been insecure of your own face, so you wear a mask. But in the middle of doing a heist, the mask breaks.

Ever since childhood, you hadn't liked what you saw in the mirror. Your nose was too big. Or too small. Your lips were too thin. Or then they looked like a bee had just stung them. Your eye color was bland. You just bashed yourself in front of the mirror every morning as you had brushed your teeth, and other kids at your neighborhood didn't really help with that - kids could be cruel if they were given a reason for it.

So, that day you moved into Ketterdam, you made yourself a mask before anyone got to know you. A beautiful white mask made of porcelain, with cat ears and a red stripe going over your eye. It fit perfectly around your face, hiding any imperfections behind its perfect curves.

You joined the Dregs, a gang ran by a young man who was barely 18. Kaz Brekker wasn't interested about your mask, he only wanted to know how you could fight and you were in. It didn't take long after that before you joined the heists with him and the other five people who called themselves "Crows". You quickly had made friends with them, spending evenings with them and finally feeling like you had a family again.

Kaz ended up growing something more than just your boss. It took a while, but he let his walls down with you, took a faint hold of your hand when you were worried about your wounded friend and even tried to comfort you, although he wasn't a master in it. In turn, you had showed him your face, let yourself be vulnerable too. He had looked at you with so much love you thought it's uncharacteristic of him, but at the same time you felt how your cheeks grew hot as you felt cared about for the first time in years.

Jesper had seen your face too, but it was by accident. He had barged in to Kaz's room because Wylan was missing and he was scared out of his mind and walked straight to the bedroom, just in time to see you sit up and your eyes met his. He froze for a moment before you ducked your head and took your mask, and Jesper knew better than to question it. He told you that Wylan is missing and you sprang into action immediately, dressing up and hurrying out of the office.

Turned out Wylan had been fetching Jesper a cake because the sharpshooter's birthday was the next day. Thank the Saints you found him first, so the surprise wouldn't be ruined.

A few months from that, and you were on another heist. Another merchant in the city, who has bragged about his fortunes a little too enthusiastically. In Ketterdam, you had to remember that someone was always listening, and this time that someone was Inej. A week from that, and you were at the manor of that merchant.

Kaz had ordered you and Jesper to keep watch at the hallway as he worked on the hidden safe around the corner - the merchant was smarter than he looked, he had put a safe inside a safe, and hid that behind a large and incredibly heavy bookcase. The blueprints were done wrong as a distraction, and Kaz had cursed himself over not realising it. So it had taken a while to actually get on the safe.

Footsteps were heard from the right, and Jesper's hand immediately went to his other gun. A few guards bickered about something, and Kaz halted his movements upon hearing that too. Jesper met his eyes, and he nodded towards the guards. Jesper started making his way towards them and you glanced at Kaz who started working on the safe again.

You hadn't known what was happening before you already felt a blade on your throat.

"Don't move, bitch," said a voice behind you. His breath had a bitter scent of garlic and you scrunched your nose at it.

The man with the knife pressed hard enough to cut your skin but didn't draw blood yet. A thought of him killing you and going after Kaz next crossed your mind, an d that thought made your heart start racing faster and adrenaline kicking in.

You knew it was stupid. Irresponsible. You should wait for Kaz to deal with it, he by no doubt was already thinking what to do to save you. But you weren't a lady in distress, you refused to be.

So you stomped on his foot with all your might and when he grunted, you elbowed his jaw. The knife made a scratch on your face and you heard something shattering - probably a vase on the drawer next to you. You started giving punches to the brute until he laid on the ground unconscious, and then turned back around to see all your friends gathered there to see what's the noise about. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing they were all alright and walked up to them as you tried to catch your breath. You didn't pay attention to it at first, but then you noticed that they were staring at you.

"What?" you asked, frowning.

"Darling, your mask..." Kaz mumbled, looking over at the shattered piece of art you had been wearing for the past half a decade.

Your heart stopped for a moment.

"Oh," you whispered and suddenly felt self-conscious as you turned away from your friends. Your cheeks burned like hellfire, even though nobody was saying anything about how you looked ugly underneath this disguise. Though, they had probably stared because they didn't recognize you at first, not because of how you looked. But it still felt like the latter option, and the echoes of what the kids in your neighborhood had been saying to you when you were growing up.

"Okay, we got what we came here for, escaping through the third back door." Kaz interrupted the moment and everyone started moving out, leaving Kaz and you standing there to come as last ones.

You walked in silence side by side with Kaz, looking behind the shattered mask - its shards glinting in the moonlight as if to wave its goodbye to you. You felt like a part of you had just been ripped away, and you couldn't help but feel tears in your eyes. The whole thing happened so fast, that none of it registered until that point. Then it was too late.

You could feel the slight night breeze caressing through your face once you were outside in front of the carriage, something you hadn't experienced in years. It felt so foreign now - but somehow also comforting.

You stood there for a moment before Nina spoke.

"Hey, we don't care how you look. We still love you the same."

You closed your eyes against the sudden wetness on your cheek and nodded, sniffling. "I know."

"Hey," Jesper said. He walked up next to you and handed you a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Thanks," you sniffed and wiped at your tears.

Jesper cleared his throat. "It's weird to see you without that mask. You're not ugly, you know. Not really."

You looked down at the cloth in your hands and gave a watery laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've always been ugly."

"No, you aren't. This is what beauty feels like. This is what real beauty would be like."

"Oh," you said softly, biting back more tears.

He glanced at Kaz who was looking at you with something looking like concern. "Kaz is lucky to have you, you know."

You couldn't help but smile a little at that, and everyone started to board the carriage, Jesper being the driver and standing beside the door.

Jesper smirked as he helped you board the carriage, "I know what we just said but just a suggestion, love; you should consider being a model, we could pull out pretty neat heists if you went on a modeling show with rich pigs and turned over their pockets."

You couldn't help but smile at the suggestion - maybe you could finally get rid of the feeling of insecurity you had felt since you were a child.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[lilyflower52]

The crows in an orchestra!!

I play cello, and it only made sense to combine my greatest loves.

Jesper: Jesper is a bass. Most of the basses I've met have had a kind of obnoxious energy. They are nice but incredibly annoying. It feels right for Jesper. He was also the easiest to come up with. He's licked his rosin before because he wanted to see how it tasted.

Wylan: He's a violinist and an overachiever. He learns the music perfectly and upstages everyone. He always gets first chair. He practices 30 hours a day.

Inej: She's a viola! They usually aren't seen as the most important but the second they mess up it throws everyone off. Think what could have happened in th ice court heist if Inej didn't make it up that incinerator. She could never mess up, she's too perfect.

Nina: CELLIST. She's big and loud and way too much- which is exactly what most cellos are, in music at least. Someone called her instrument a guitar once and she threatened to bash them in the head with it. She's always salty that she doesn't get the melody (me too 😭)

Kaz: He plays both Violin and Cello. He takes ridiculously good care of his instruments. Once someone tried to grab his bow without asking and he stabbed them. He plays cello very aggressively, and he is a fan of deep, dramatic melodies. I can picture him playing winter by Vivaldi.

Mattias: He's the only one I couldn't see being an orchestra kid. I think he joined Choir. Nina despises him for this decision, but all of the choir kids are just happy to have someone with a deep voice.

[mcntsee]

— ★fic recs 'twenty four

Hi! This is a masterlist for all my fic recs. This list will continue to update as I read and find more things to add. Credits go to the respective authors!

↳ Please make sure to check out the warning on each fic. Some of them contain stuff that might be triggering for some readers!

keys;

🫐 — angst

☁️ — fluff

🎧 — nsfw

spencer reid recs;

— ★ series;

↳ trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: the one time the bau needs you + the four times you need them.

↳ twisted by @dreamwritesimagines [completed] 🫐☁️

summary: no one can outrun their past.

↳ pierced by @rynbutt [completed] ☁️🎧

summary: moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

↳ american teenager by @lanascinnamongirls [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: all it took was one case. one case and you were back in your small town in your home state of missouri.

↳ say that you love me by @none-of-your-bullshit [completed] 🫐☁️🎧

summary: what happens when an ex cia operative survives an attempted murder and is plucked straight out of georgetown by david rossi?

↳ do you believe me now by @nereidprinc3ss 🎧

— ★ stand alone:

↳ forgiven by @reiding-writing 🫐☁️

summary: you lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

kaz brekker recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ three taps by @happyyyandcrazyyy 🫐☁️

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

↳ dive into the waves below by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: pekka rollins's reign is over and it's time for the new king to take his place (or kaz settles into his new office and his beaten face needs some tending to)

↳ alright by @liberty-barnes 🫐☁️

summary: you’ve been flirting with kaz ever since you started working as his bartender. systematic rejection gets tiring after a while, but sometimes all you need is a good chat and a large bottle of vodka.

↳ bloody hands by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: kaz never feels the need to explain his entire plan. he knows that, whatever happens, it will inevitably go according to plan. but when his plan goes wrong and y/n is injured, kaz is suddenly forced to comprehend with the skeletally hand of death once again.

↳ initials by @triptuckers ☁️

summary: for as long as the crows can remember, you’ve worn a ring with initials on it, and they’ve been trying to figure out what they stand for ever since

↳ love story by @luna-writes-stuff ☁️

summary: kaz hasn’t known life without you at his side. he doesn’t see reason for you to abandon him any time soon and he isn’t planning on letting you go either.

↳ what do you want from me? by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

↳ this is what happens by @fishley 🫐

summary: a look into the journey of kaz losing another person he loves and how it not only affects himslef, but everyone around him.

↳ dark days by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: mr and mrs rietveld. a locked vault and approximately ten minutes of air left. what could possibly go wrong.

↳ his star by @alpurrtwhizkersss 🫐☁️

summary: kaz saves reader from drowning

↳ dust and rubble by @writing-havoc 🫐☁️

summary: a plan goes wrong. you get injured. kaz tries to help-

↳ pocket watch by @writing-havoc ☁️

summary: after years of patient progression on his phobia, kaz finds the opportunity to reciprocate

↳ call me what you like by @sophierequests ☁️

summary: kaz and the reader have been married for quite some years now, unbeknownst to their friends. but what if a slip up causes this shared secret to come to the surface?

↳ sweetheart by @bloodwrittenballad ☁️

summary: kaz's reaction to you calling him sweetheart

↳ the way of the water by @bubbles-for-all-of-us 🫐☁️

summary: reader is a tidemaker and during a heist kaz falls into the water and she uses her powers to pull him out and helps him through a panic attack

simon "ghost" riley recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ alive by @criminalamnesia 🫐

summary: simon loses you

↳ phantom touch by @ghostheartfelt 🫐☁️

summary: you and the 141 are deployed to austria with the intel of a drug boss known as rolmuth who is harboring romanian soldiers to the east coast to smuggle illegal mercenary personnel into america. what happens when a rapid snowstorm picks up and you are separated from the others then further captured and interrogated alongside your lieutenant?

alastor;

— ★ series;

↳ a doe in fall by @hazelfoureyes [ongoing] 🎧

summary: a burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. the chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

↳ painted smile by @worldofkuro [ongoing]🫐☁️

summary: you couldn't wait to meet new friends. what you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

↳ deer dolly by @ohproserpine ☁️🫐

summary: “wife?!” angel dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “freaky face is married?”

↳ a misconduct of love by @hurthermore [ongoing] 🫐(☁️)

summary: control was something you always severely lacked in. so when a radio host enters your life, and seems to yearn to not only posses you, but for you to posses him in turn, you indulge in a love affair with the man your husband introduced you to.

— ★ stand alone:

nothing here yet…

hobbie brown;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ where's my love by @autumn-hiraeth 🫐

summary: hobie's cannon event

[barrel-crow-n]

Something that makes me crazy is the difference in how Kanej deals with their issues.

Kaz was hurt so he hurt others. He got scammed so he became the scammer. He was beaten up so he became the one beating people up. He found a way to thrive in the toxic cycle of violence in the Barrel. This keeps him alive, but makes him a bad person. Kaz doesn't care. Kaz left decency behind the second that was what was necessary to survive. He shrugged it off like a cheap coat. Don't like touch? Simple. Break anybodies wrist that dares touch you; break their arm. Give them a reason to keep away. Make them scared because that keeps you safe (and as a result will keep them safer from you).

Inej was hurt so she prevents others from being hurt. She hunts down slavers so children won't have the same fate as her. She can't just leave decency behind, her values and beliefs won't allow it. She does penance after every kill, she cried after killing the first time, she isn't keen on violence and only does it when completely necessary (at odds with Kaz that attacks at the slightest provocation to the point of everyone giving him a wide berth). The violence committed on her makes her angry (and righteously) but she doesn't lash out at everyone like Kaz does, she holds that back for a select few, to make them pay for the suffering they've caused.

Kaz felt like he died and became someone new so he leaned into it. He change his name from Rietveld to Brekker, he became someone new, a stranger. Nobody knew who he was, or where he came from. Kaz Rietveld was dead, and a monster had taken his place.

Inej also says that she feels like she died. She says that the girl she had been died in the belly of a slavers ship. However, unlike Kaz, she refuses to change her name. And dehumanisation links to this!

Kaz was dehumanised so he dehumanised himself further. Dirtyhands. Per Haskell's rabid dog. Demjin. Kaz thrives in this, because it makes him feel safe, it makes him feel untouchable. Kaz Rietveld was weak, so was replaced by Kaz Brekker. When that isn't enough, Dirtyhands is there to get the rough work done.

Inej was dehumanised so she humanised herself. She is not a lynx or a spider or a wraith. She is Inej Ghafa. She is a pirate vigilante, rescuer of slaves. And the interesting thing is that Kaz offered this to her too! He asks her "Is that what you prefer to be called?" (referring to her name, Inej Ghafa) when buying her indenture at the Menagerie. He is offering her the same thing he did. A change of name, a clean slate. But she declines. She is a Ghafa and no matter what happens to her, she always will be.

Kaz was traumatised so he isolated himself. He holds people at arms length because he sees them as weaknesses, or as obstacles between him and his revenge. He put his gloves on and doesn't take them off, he failed once with Imogen and decided to never try again. He yearns for connection but it only serves to isolate him further. Because they have no idea what it's like to watch friends hug, knowing you can never have the same. Kaz builds up armour (the gloves) but he doesn't tackle the root problem that is his fear of touch. He tried once and failed and quit (which is actually out of character for him, in contrast with him learning magic ceaselessly until he has mastered it - and shows how terrified he is and how disgusted he is at himself) and this serves to make him feel like he just can't. Like the dream of friends is hopeless.

Inej was traumatised so she seeks human connection. She has Jesper and Nina. She has the other Crows. She tries to heal, to open herself up. She might still flinch at touch occasionally but her friends are helping her and she wants to try and heal. She knows how to ask for help.

In all, Inej's ways of coping are a lot healthier. Kaz is stuck in a toxic cycle, and has been for years, but Inej is giving him a way out of it. Finally, he can make the step towards proper healing. He won't change his name back. He won't stop being a gangster. But he can feel more comfortable in himself and with his friends. And that's what Inej wants to give him, because she knows how important that is.

[amsgrey]

Domestication

Kia Ora! It's been forever since I posted anything and it feels like forever since I've had the motivation to sit and right, but this came to me all of a sudden and I wrote it in like two hours so it might suck (not that I care) but no more writer's block!! Ka Pai!!!

synopsis: A Typical night with the Bastard of the Barrel. Or, the Bastard of the Barrel behind his locked door.

warnings: major fluff yall, not proofread yet because we all know I suck at that, I can't think of anything else oops

Kaz was almost always reading in his spare time, from ledgers to novels to the latest Ketterdam newspapers on stocks or whatever else the press thought worthy of ink. Every night when you climbed the stairs to his room, you would find him busy reading through one thing or another.

Tonight was no different. When you finally got off your shift in the Crow club, you found Kaz sitting on his bed with a book in hand. You let out a sigh, toeing off your worn boots and walking to the basin to wash your hands and face.

"How's the club?" Kaz asked, not taking his eyes from the page.

You splashed water in your face, "Plenty of Pigeons.”

You dried your face and joined Kaz on his bed, leaning against the headboard, mirroring his own pose.

"How was your day scheming?"

Kaz turned to look at you, entirely unamused by your cheeky smirk.

"It was fine," He replied, slowly.

The two of you sat silently, enjoying the quietness for a while. For the last few weeks, you had been staying in Kaz's room more and more. You had jokingly told him it was because his bed was bigger and more comfortable, but you both knew it was because you enjoyed waking up beside one another.

You noticed Kaz must have cleaned while you were away, tidying off his desk and drawers. Kaz was a stress cleaner, you had learnt. He liked this space to be tidy, everything in its rightful place. You learned rather quickly to keep things where they were meant to be.

"I cleared a drawer," Kaz said suddenly, you turned to look at him with a frown.

"Okay?"

Kaz put his book down on the table beside him, "For you."

It took a moment for his words to register, Kaz watched as your eyes lit up and a grin spread across your face.

"For me?"

He nodded once.

You leaned forward, gently placing your hand in his, "Have I finally succeeded in domesticating the Bastard of the barrel?"

Kaz made a big show of rolling his eyes, "It's one drawer."

You shrugged, cheekily replying, "One more than I had yesterday."

Kaz had been a lot better with touch lately, in the safety of his room, where no one other than you entered. It took months, years, to get to this point. With your hand in his, mindlessly rubbed circles with his thumb, tracing a pattern only he knew.

"What are you reading?"

Kaz had yet to put his book down, holding his page with a finger wedged in the pages. He opened to where he was, displaying the tiny cramped print for you to see.

"A book about stocks," He said.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

You giggled, "Sounds... boring."

Kaz gave you an annoyed side glance and went back to reading. Admitting defeat, you unthreaded your fingers from his and slipped off the bed. You padded over to Kaz's chest of drawers, well aware that he was watching you in between the words on the page. You pulled open the draw, seeing that Kaz had cleared you a space. A smile broke across your face again, pleased at the sight in front of you. Kaz's drawers were heavy and sometimes finicky, much like all the furniture in the Slat. You lifted the draw a little and slid it back into place, making sure it was shut tight like Kaz had it before.

Instead of returning to Kaz, you opened the next drawer down. Sliding it open as carefully as possible, the drawer revealed pristinely folded shirts and tunics. You ran your fingers over the fabric, almost all of Kaz's shirts were soft and clean, he took such care of his clothes and appearance. It was one of the reasons you loved him, his attention to detail and his immense care for the small details. You found the shirt you were after, one that he never wore but kept folded neatly in his drawer for you.

You unbuttoned your own shirt, it smelt of the Crow Club. A strange redolence of beer, jurda and the distinct smell of the wooden tables after years of use. You lay your dirty shirt over the back of Kaz's desk chair, making note to add it to your own washing in the morning. You pulled on Kaz's shirt, immediately greeted by his scent that was woven through the threads. Kaz shirt felt like pure silk after spending the day in your scratchy blouse, the fabric soothing away any irritation left on your skin.

You looked over your shoulder at Kaz for a moment, spying him nose-deep in his book again. You both knew he wasn't actually reading.

You rid yourself of your belt next, one that you had pinched from Nina months ago. You undid the buckle and carefully laid it over the chair, trying to keep your belongings in one space. You did the same with your skirt and tights, leaving you in almost ready to slip into bed.

You rounded back around the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping underneath. This was your nightly routine now, you slipping under the covers before Kaz, promising to stay awake with him and almost always falling asleep anyway. Kaz loved it, you knew. He would pretend to be exasperated, watching you yawn and fade slowly, but after you fell asleep he would put his book away and watch you rest peacefully.

Curled up under the covers, you watched him read. Watching his eyes scan the page and his lips ghost the words as he read. Sometimes, when he got invested, he would make comments to himself out loud. Oftentimes, "Saints Sake," or "Fool," depending on who or what he was reading about. If you were lucky, Kaz would read quietly and the furrow in his brow would ease, smoothed away as he relented to his book. Those were your favourite moments. Watching the Bastard of the Barrel vanish and Kaz Reitveld appear again. Each time, you cherished them like it was the last.

You shifted again, pulling the blanket over your shoulder to keep your warmth trapped. Kaz's eyes shifted over to you, a silent question within them.

"Read to me?" You whispered.

Kaz smiled, a gentle, loving smile that sent butterflies to your stomach and tingles down your spine.

"Of course."

Kaz took one hand from the book, finding your own under the cover.

You didn't care about how boring the current stock market was or whatever it was Kaz was reading, but you loved hearing Kaz read to you. The sound of his voice, calm and patient after a dangerous and tumultuous day. The sound of his fingers drumming on the hardcover, a steady beat. When he turned the page, he would hang on to the last word of the page, so as to not forget what it was.

You loved every part of these nights with every part of your soul.

As you started to relax more, your mind sinking into sleep, you pulled his hand to your chest, pressing your lips to his knuckles and whispering, "I love you, Rietveld."

Kaz placed his book away, blowing out the lantern and joining you under the covers.

"I love you too," He whispered, his lips pressed to your hairline.

[redvelvetthief]

wondering if kaz ever worries about the other crows’ opinions of him post-ck, like if they only stuck around and did what he told them to do all those years because it was beneficial for them too. wondering if after all is said and done and they’re able to live their own lives outside of the dregs, he worries that they’ll all stop talking to him because he doesn’t serve a purpose to them anymore. wondering if kaz tries to find new ways to make himself “useful” to them so that they won’t abandon him. wondering how long it takes him, if ever, to realize that they keep him around because they actually do love and care about him, and it has nothing to do with his wealth or influence. idk just wondering.

[petertingle-yipyip]

DADDY ISSUES - KAZ BREKKER

Pairing: established Kaz x Reader // Word Count: 2,989

Summary (request): Hello… I hope you are doing well… I wonder if there could be any chance I can request Kaz Brekker x wife reader, where reader comes from really shitty background (her mom hanged herself, her father is abusive) and she never talked about it much and always helped Kaz build himself back before her, but now it kinda turns around… maybe make it a little angst, like they get in fight about it and the reader just breaks down thinking Kaz will left like everyone else did… hope it’s not to complicated… thank you <3 // couple slight tweaks (forgot it was a wife!request tbh). hope you enjoy! and the title was simply for the vibes, idk

Life in the Barrel was its own hellscape. You never denied or argued that point. Instead, you tried to find your own little bright spots.

You had friends, a crew that’d go to war for you. And lucky you, that crew turned out to be the most feared and respected in Ketterdam.

Not that you knew that when you joined. In the beginning, it was just a way to find a new life. You weren’t even looking for safer or better, just new. Your mother, Saints rest her soul, had been through the ringer. Your father, may he rot in Hell, was as vile as they came. He lost money on gambling, spent nights upon nights upon nights at the Pleasure Houses, drank himself stupid, all to come home and beat down you and your mother. The night your mother tried to fight back and protect you both, your father made a scene. He played innocent, ran into the streets calling for Stadwatch and that your mother was hysterical. The next night, your mother found herself on a short path to the end of a rope.

Your father called it a warning. You called it a threat.

That was when you ran. You packed whatever fit in your bag and ran. You ended up meeting another runaway, a criminally smart boy named Wylan. He didn’t speak much at first, but you two roomed together for a little while during your stint at the dye factory. He was called upon by the Crows first.

You lingered around the Club after that, wondering if they’d take you in too. One of them must’ve took pity on you because when you went back to your musty little lodging, the Wraith was waiting with an offer.

Your life seemed to turn around after that. You turned out to be quite the strategist. Within a few months, you had worked your way to being Kaz’s go-to for when he was mentally stuck. You saw things differently than he did and it made for good conversations and optimal plans for jobs. Whenever you two put your heads together, you were unstoppable.

Naturally, you two drew close and ended up together. You also learned the hard way that Kaz was his own brand of crazy. It took digging and prying and more patience than you thought you had, but he eventually told you everything. It was so much more than you expected and explained a lot of why Kaz was the way he was. But with some not-so-gentle coaxing, you managed to get him to agree to baby steps which grew to strides which grew to leaps and bounds.

With careful feints and evasions, you managed to keep the details of your childhood away from everyone. Even Kaz. When they asked about your parents, you simply said Mom was dead and Dad was long gone. Where were you from? Here, there, wherever the wind blows in from.

By some miracle, you could touch Kaz in practically any sense and he would hardly react. He could touch you willingly, and he did often. Loosely hooking his fingers through yours, a lazy arm around your waist, his chin atop your head when you leaned against him in your booth at the Club.

Inej said he smiled more after you arrived. Nina said she’d never heard an honest laugh until you. Even Jesper said you softened Kaz’s rough edges, not all but enough to notice.

Admittedly, it was nice to be needed. To be wanted. It was so blessedly refreshing.

Until one night, you were suddenly a little kid again, cowering in your mother’s skirts.

You recognized his voice before you saw him. His deep, angry voice rumbled through the Crow Club and you immediately tensed in the booth. You believed he was dead. You used to pray for it. It seemed the Saints didn’t offer you that mercy after all.

Miraculously, Kaz was too enthralled in his debate with Jesper to notice.

Your eyes frantically scanned the crowd, looking at every table for the culprit. When you had checked everywhere, you thought you had imagined it. Someone else with a similar timbre had to be there instead. You sucked in a deep breath, counting off numbers in your head as a distraction, until he practically fell onto the table.

You flinched hard and it instantly drew Kaz’s attention. You stayed frozen, as if your father wouldn’t notice you if you didn’t move. You saw Jesper draw a pistol on reflex and Wylan shot you a worried look.

Wylan was the only one who knew the extent of your childhood trauma, and that was only because he came back to your shared room to you sobbing on your mother’s birthday one night. You spilled your secrets and he hesitantly shared his.

“I can’t be here.” You squeaked, trying to scoot out the booth. Your chest was growing uncomfortably tight and your blood was rushing in your ears.

“I’ll walk with you.” Wylan stood.

“No.” Kaz said firmly. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was giving the back of your head that calculating, suspicious look. “I’ll go. Jesper, get rid of him.”

“Yes, Boss.” Jesper answered.

You tried to make yourself scarce as you heard Jesper telling your father to move. A small clatter later and a large hand, too large to be Kaz’s, locked around your upper arm and yanked you back. You stumbled over your own feet and were pushed against the table’s edge. You closed your eyes tightly, your head dropping immediately. All you wanted was to be as small as possible.

“All this time…” Your father sneered. You could smell the liquor on his breath. “You’ve been here?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You had no voice. All you could think about were the tears burning behind your closed lids. You simply shook your head, but it wasn’t good enough.

“You’re a coward then, hmm? What happened to all the giggles and flirts these men got, huh? Just like your tramp of a mother.”

Your father shook you and you let out a panicked whimper. You tried to pry his fingers loose but it was useless.

“I suggest you let her go.” Jesper said firmly and you heard the hammer of his pistol. “Before this gets ugly.”

“This doesn’t concern you.” Your father spat. “It’s between me and my daughter.”

“Daughter?”

“What? Can’t see the resemblance?” Your father’s hand tightly gripped your cheeks but you jerked your face away.

“You can’t grab on her like that!” Wylan argued and slammed his fist against the table.

Bless his heart, you thought. Saints, don’t let my father hurt them.

“My friends are right.” Kaz spoke calmly. “Seeing as this is my Club and that is my Crow you’re harassing, I’d very much say this concerns me. If you don’t want to lose that hand, remove it. Now.”

You forced your eyes open but couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focused on his cane. His shoes. You itched to reach out for him, to fold yourself into the safety of his embrace. An embrace that only you had the privilege of experiencing. But your father’s bulky frame was firmly in the way.

Had he gotten fatter? You had half a mind to say so and laugh, but you knew that was a quick way to a broken nose. You’d never forget the crack of your mother’s when she made an off-hand comment about his waistline one night.

“Mind your own, boy.” Your father spat at Kaz’s feet.

You gasped slightly and Kaz simply chuckled. That delightfully ominous sound was your saving grace. Most men would have apologized, begged forgiveness and swore some sort of penance, but not your father. No, he was stupid and stubborn. He was going to get what was coming to him, albeit less than he deserved in your opinion.

“Oh no..” Wylan said quietly.

You struggled in his grip again. You hoped it was enough of a distraction, but you were wrong. A familiar strike hit your cheek and the force threw you to the side. A pair of arms caught you but you couldn’t focus on anything beside the pain in your cheek.

That trademark back-handed slap, seemingly reserved for you and your mother. The slap that had split your cheek wide open when he had used his ring hand before. The slap that made you feel eight years old again. You had the thought to hide under the table but shook it quickly.

You weren’t a child anymore. Your mother couldn’t help you. You focused back to the current moment, the pulsing sting in your face and the tears in your eyes. You opened your mouth, unsure what you intended to say, but no sound came out. Instead, Kaz swung his cane with enough force to make your father sway on his feet - you thought you saw a tooth go flying - and Jesper was eagerly climbing over the table to join in.

You had half a mind to laugh as they landed strategic blows against your father.

‘Serves you right!’ you wanted to yell but your voice was still missing.

But Wylan was already leading you out of the Crow Club. You didn’t protest the escape. Wylan didn’t say anything until getting to your room at the Slat. You sat on your bed after kicking off your shoes and pulled your knees to your chest.

For what felt like the first time that night, you took a real breath. The adrenaline had faded, leaving your body tired and heavy.

“Do you want to talk?” Wylan gently tried, sitting at the edge of the bed.

You simply shook your head.

“Okay… Do you want something cold for that?” He gestured to his own cheek.

Gingerly, you prodded the tender area. You winced but felt no cut or blood. You shook your head again.

“I’d like to go to bed, I think.” You spoke. Your voice was so small, so far away. That couldn’t be what you sounded like… Was it?

“Of course.” Wylan nodded. He stood and patted your head, making you laugh weakly.

It was the same gesture he did the first time he saw you crying when he didn’t know how to help. Since that first night, it was just what you two did.

“Thank you for sticking up for me.” You offered a grateful smile. “You got the other guys going, too.”

“We’re always gonna be there for you, Y/N/N. And hey, if it helps any, I’m sure Kaz beat the hell out of him.” Wylan offered.

“I’m not convinced anything’ll help anymore, Wy.” You shrugged before laying down.

Not until he’s dead, but you didn’t dare say that part out loud.

You waved goodbye to Wylan before you took your pillow and put it over your face. You held it there and screamed as loud as you could. You screamed until you were out of air, then sucked in a deep breath just to do it all over again. Once the screams were gone, you cried. They were ugly, likely snot-filled and red faced cries, but who the hell cared?

You cried until your throat was raw, your breaths were shaky, and your eyes were dry. You had nothing left in you except childhood pain, so you did the only thing you could. You let sleep take you.

It wasn’t long until the door creaked open and you shot up. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes quickly, reaching in a panic for the small blade on your nightstand.

“It’s alright, Dear.” Kaz spoke calmly. “It’s just me.”

“Oh…” You sighed in relief, pushing your hands through your hair. “Just a bit jumpy, I guess.” You tried to laugh it off.

“That man in the Club...”

“Kaz, I don’t want to-“

“You never mentioned your parents.” He kept on going.

You groaned to yourself, understanding that Kaz was going to be stubborn about the topic. With a sigh, you ran a sleeve across your face. You folded your legs and Kaz sat in the now open space of your bed. He kept his eyes on his cane, tapping it as he spoke.

“Those things he said about your mother, what he did to you…”

“Yes, my father is an ass.” You conceded. “Is that what you want to hear? Is that what you want me to say, Kaz? My family was broken. Hardly a family at all, nothing more to it.”

“Seems like there’s much more to it.” He countered.

“Oh, for Saint’s sake.” You ran a hand down your face. “What do you want me to say?”

“You completely shut down, Y/N.” He said firmly. There was concern in his voice, but it seemed smothered by the anger still looming. You blamed your father for that, too. Was there anything that man couldn’t ruin? “He put hands on you and you did nothing.”

“I’m well aware.” You bit out. You placed your hand over where your father’s had been and it was as if the skin was burned by his touch. You shivered slightly but said nothing else.

“I’ve never seen that happen to you.”

“Let it go, Kaz. I’m begging you.”

“Convenient, isn’t it?” He scoffed slightly. “When you wanted to know of all my pain and torment, I had to lay it all bare for you to scrutinize and study. Yet when it comes to facing your past, you don’t have words?”

“I don’t have words.” You rolled your eyes. “If you believe that’s the case, then just leave me be.”

“I’m not leaving you.” He sounded near offended that you’d suggest such a thing. “Not until you talk to me.”

“What difference will it make?” You nearly screamed. “You’ve seen the truth. You know that I’m a fraud and I’m weak and pathetic. Feel free, Kaz, to cut your losses and go. I don’t expect you to stay after that fiasco.”

“You think so little of me?” He didn’t bother hiding how your words hurt him.

“I think the world of you.” You corrected quickly. “But I also know you. That whole thing made a mockery of who everyone knows me to be, and that reflects on you and your choice. My father has the infernal talent of breaking me down as if I’m nothing. He had always been able to break me and he enjoyed it. I’m sure he looked very high and mighty doing it again, didn’t he?”

Kaz didn’t answer.

“So now you know. Now you know that I’m not at all what I pretend to be around here, and I won’t blame you if you walk right out that door and never acknowledge me again.”

“Is that what you want, my dear?” He asked quietly.

His gloves were abandoned on your nightstand, you hadn’t even seen him take them off, and he gently took hold of your hand. With minimal force, he removed your hand from your arm and slipped his fingers between yours.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked. His voice was quiet, so uncertain. You had never heard such a tone from him.

“No…” You confessed. “But I know-“

“Then tell me.” His eyes met yours and in the dim moonlight from your window, you could’ve sworn you saw…

Tears? 

Well that couldn't be right. You didn’t even remember him crying when he told you the story of his brother. Why would he be crying now?

You reached your other hand for his cheek, smiling to yourself as he leaned into your touch.

“This isn’t your burden to carry, my love.” You answered softly. He sighed slightly but had no argument yet. “You wear so many hats, balance so many titles and jobs. You bear the weight of so much pain as it is… I can’t ask you to bear mine.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He corrected, gently taking your hand off his cheek. “Y/N, you are the only thing in this world worth having. Every breath I take is because of you. Every day I wake it is because you are beside me. To know that this has haunted you, to know that man exists in the same city- same country- same universe that you is a crime that I will personally make him answer for. He threw away the privilege of your love and your protection the first time he dared to put his hands on you.”

“Am I protecting him?”

The question wasn’t meant to come out. The look he gave you was so close to pity you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“You offered to carry my pain as if it were yours so long ago.” He spoke gently, so gentle that it made your heart ache. “You carry everyone’s pains and gripes without a word… Let me do the same for you.”

“He’s the reason I lost everything…” You nearly whispered. “He’s the reason I had nothing. What if he’s the reason I lose you?”

“It’s going to take more than that to scare me off, Darling.” He gave you a small smile. “I swear to you, Y/N, he will never hurt you again.”

You sniffled and threw your arms around him. He was quick to return your embrace.

“I love you.” You mumbled against his shoulder.

You managed a better sleep with Kaz beside you. The next day, you two stayed cooped up in your room and you answered every question you could manage.

Admitting to the extent of your father’s abuse was more difficult than you expected. Several times during your conversation, you found yourself shutting down and trying to change the topic to whatever you saw out your window.

Yet Kaz was ever so patient.

You knew then, beyond any sort of doubt, that you and Kaz would be together for a very long time.