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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
#y/n#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#cod x reader#konig x reader#cod x y/n#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#konig x y/n#harry potter x y/n#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x y/n#six of crows x reader#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey x y/n#wylan van eck x reader#fanfiction#fluff#angst#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#alastor x y/n#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x y/n#the umbrella academy x reader#five hargreaves x reader#klaus hargreeves x reader#mcntseesrandoms
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Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later
Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 3,1k
Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...
Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now
Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍
You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.
“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.
“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.
Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.
Because of your never-ending sickness.
“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”
“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.
You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.
“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.
“Thank you for your help. Again.”
You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.
“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.
“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.
Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.
Right?
-at the wind hashira estate-
“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”
Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.
“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.
“Was it really that bad?”
Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…
“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“
Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?
“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.
“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.
Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.
Until your eyes find Genya.
Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…
“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.
Maybe that is even worse.
Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.
“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.
An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.
Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.
But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.
In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.
“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.
Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.
“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”
Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.
Straight towards the two boys.
Straight into the firing line.
Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.
“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.
“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.
“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”
The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.
“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.
Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…
“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.
But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.
“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.
He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.
“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”
Oh.
Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.
Until now.
“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“
“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.
“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”
It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?
“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“
“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.
“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“
You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.
The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.
“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.
And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.
You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.
-a few hours later-
“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.
Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.
But why did he say all those dumb things, then?
“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.
“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.
What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.
“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“
“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”
“Did you ask her, though?”
“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.
“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”
Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?
Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.
Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-
His eyes widen in sheer horror.
You’re gone.
Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.
Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.
Did you leave?
He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.
“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”
Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.
“Is she fine, why did she-“
“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“
“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“
“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”
Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.
Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?
“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.
-at Mitsuri’s-
“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.
Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.
“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.
“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”
Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?
“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.
“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”
Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.
And reveals no other than your husband.
“Sanemi”, you breathe out.
Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?
“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.
“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.
“What?”
Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.
“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.
Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.
“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.
You turn away before you lose your composure completely.
“Why are you here, Sanemi?”
“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”
In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.
“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“
“(y/n), please.”
His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.
Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.
Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?
“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”
“Sanemi…”
“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“
“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.
“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.
“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”
“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”
That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.
“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.
“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”
“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”
Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.
“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.
“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”
“No problem, I’ll carry you-“
“You really don’t have to carry me-“
“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”
“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”
“Did you have to tell her everything?”
“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”
Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt
#readers crow is my spirit animal#kny#kny x reader#hashira training arc#kny x you#kny x y/n#kny angst to fluff#kny angst#kny fanfic#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kimetsu x you#kimetsu sanemi#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x female reader#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi x reader#sanemi x you#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi headcanons#sanemi angst#sanemi fluff
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corvidae
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#yuji itadori#itadori yuuji#blood/#yuuji#im not tagging this as spoilers idc sue me . iykyk but i dont think it's obvious enough at all 2 warrant the tag#idrk what this is sorry ive been having a hard time drawing n feeling inspired lately :'>>> so it goes#i find i tend to default to drawing birds when that happens ???#did it with gojo did it with shiro and now it's yuuji's turn ig#sometimes it's helpful to just . mess around with a whole bunch of brushes until something looks ok#and birds and feathers lean soooo well 2 playing around w brushes theyre very forgiving#flowers also kind of so i threw in some camellias bc i figured why not add More Red#i think they mean something that's probably relevant but i was more looking fr the shape of the petals#th rounded tops blend rly seamlessly with the way i rendered th feathers so i am like!!!! nice#just checked also apparently red camellias just mean love and devotion lmao should have guessed#'perishing with grace' also hm hm hm that's kind of wild with th crows#anyway i didn't put too much thought in2 this one so i won't talk fr ages about the symbolism it's all pretty much right there#anyway ty fr being patient with me im sorry draws have been slow :<#ill come out of it ill bounce back!
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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 (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.”
#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x y/n#kaz brekker x you#six of crows imagine#six of crows#shadow and bone#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x fem!reader#jesper fahey#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey x platonic!reader#shadow and bone imagine#grishaverse#shadow and bone fanfic#six of crows fanfic#kaz brekker fanfic#six of crows fic#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone fanfiction#six of crows fanfiction#inej ghafa#the crows#happyyyandcrazyyy writing#nina zenik#wylan van eck
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my two cents on lovebug things. in my head it would work similar to dogmode. just a fun function for the player smiles
#the stanley parable#tsp#crows art#scribbles#not intended to be ship but ok to tag as such ig. as a treat just this once.#/silly#if anything its just stanley being the clingy one for once and the narrator hates it#yes this was an excuse to draw stanley all happy n lovecore themed tehe
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Y/N: What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?
Bucky: Knife to the throat
Natasha: Gun to the back
Tony: Poison in his cup
Y/N: You’re all horrible
#source: six of crows#incorrect marvel quotes#marvel incorrect quotes#incorrect mcu quotes#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x reader#black widow#black widow x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky#james bucky barnes#the winter soldier#tony stark#tony stark x reader#tony stark x you#iron man#iron man x reader#iron man x you#marvel#marvel x reader#the avengers
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"That's my wife."
pairing: kaz brekker x wife!reader
genre: fluff
el's thoughts: requested by @jahayla-parker i realized i had this written ages ago and never posted it so here you go hahaha
~*~
“Just a cup of water please.” Y/N sat at the bar in the Crow Club, observing all the people playing at the tables.
Jesper sitting with Wylan by his side, Nina and Matthias sat farther down at the bar talking with Inej. Her eyes scanned over the laughing faces until they met a familiar pair of dark brown eyes. She smirked into her glass as she saw Rotty come up to Kaz with a small piece of paper.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all by yourself?”
She wrinkled her nose at the strong scent of alcohol as she turned around to face a young man around her age. She tried her best to smile politely, “I’m just waiting for some friends.”
She wasn’t lying. Kaz told her to wait until one of the other crows were ready to walk back to the Slat.
“Well then, mind if I keep you company?”
Y/N racked her mind trying to think of some way to turn him down without making a scene. Footsteps and the clicking of a cane were heard behind her.
“I mind.” Kaz’s raspy voice spoke over her shoulder.
The young man stood up taller, “So what? You’re saying this girl is your girlfriend?”
By now, Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Matthias and Inej had slowly made their way over, standing behind Y/N. Kaz stepped forward and placed both hands on his cane, leaning ever-so-slightly towards the man.
“No. What I’m saying is that this girl is my wife.”
A small gasp was heard from both Nina and Inej. Y/N turned and looked at them shyly, “Surprise…?”
She turned back around to look at Kaz and the young man, only to see him making a beeline to the door. She looked up at Kaz as he stood right beside her, “Well, cat’s out of the bag now.”
He shrugged, “It’s about time they knew anyway.”
Jesper made silent hand gestures between the couple, “So you two have been married this whole time?!”
Y/N chuckled, “Not the whole time… Just about a year.”
He stood there, eyes flickering between the two as the rest of the crows tried to wrap their minds around the news.
“When were you gonna tell us?!”
#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker x y/n#six of crows#six of crows x reader#six of crows imagines#ellora.writes
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Y/N: *Snaps at someone for the first time*
Y/N: That felt good. I get why you do that.
Kaz: Wait till you get actual fist to face contact. That’s a real high.
#six of crows#incorrect grishaverse#incorrect shadow and bone#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagine#grishaverse imagine#incorrect grishaverse quotes#incorrect shadow and bone quotes#incorrect six of crows#soc#incorrect soc#incorrect soc quotes#soc imagine#six of crows imagine#incorrect six of crows quotes#shadow and bone reader insert#kaz brekker x y/n#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker
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ALWAYS BEEN YOU - KAZ BREKKER
//follow-up to this (for context, really) but can be standalone// also @darker0moon221b asked for this//
Pairing: kaz brekker x reader
Word Count: 3,146
Summary: On the heels of a rough night and unbelievable confessions, Y/N still has to make sure Kaz is alright. What comes after is… shocking.
“I loved you first.”
“What?” Your head snapped up and your hands around the kit tightened till your knuckles were white. “You don’t mean that.” You laughed nervously.
Kaz didn’t waiver in his eye contact, dark eyes boring into yours. You shifted slightly under his gaze but he didn’t speak. Even when you rose to your feet, he didn’t look away, didn’t say a word. He just watched you intently, like if he looked away you would vanish.
Those four seemingly simple words bounced around your skull. You tried to imagine what his expression was when he said them, but you couldn’t. There was no way for you to know what he was thinking. That cursed unreadable expression crossed his features and you would’ve given anything for any of his other looks. That near smile that only you seemed to get or even his widely recognized scheming face.
“I loved you first.”
You had imagined it, right? He gave you nothing to think otherwise. Yes, that’s all it was. A tired brain mixing with a yearning heart to play on your own foolish infatuation. Kaz Brekker was many horrible things and few wonderful. But he was not someone who confessed love. Maybe he didn’t know love. Maybe he didn’t want to. Either way, it wasn’t about you. That much you could convince yourself.
“Okay.” You said finally. You had no idea how much time had passed while your thoughts ran rampant. “Well, make sure you eat and drink something to help with the blood loss. I’d say something with some sugar. Oh! Nina was by earlier, brought some new pie. You might like it.”
“Y/N?” He tried but you pretended not to hear him.
“I’ll come check on it in the morning, if that’s alright. Make sure no infection has set in and you still have your wits.”
“That’s all?”
“Is there anything else?” You cringed slightly at the desperation in your voice.
“You tell me.”
You swallowed the thoughts that threatened to embarrass you further and simply nodded, lips pressed tightly to a line. You moved to grab your fallen book but once your eyes went down, Kaz seemed to know your intention. Of course he did. You immediately stopped when you saw his movements, the stretch of his long yet muscle bound bare limbs.
You also realized he was still shirtless.
You turned on your heel instead and briskly walked out the room. You made sure the door was firmly shut behind you and then you practically ran to your own room. You all but slammed the door and dropped your kit to your desk. You yanked off the remaining glove and pushed your hands into your hair. You let out an uneven breath and tried once more to piece together the night.
You were reading in Kaz’s office. He came in, covered in blood. You cleaned him up and he smiled at you. He said he loved you.
You laughed slightly and then put a hand to your mouth.
“Oh Saints, I’ve gone mad.” You said to yourself. You shook your head and decided to sleep it off.
But your dreams were simply replays of that damn smile.
The next morning, you dragged your feet to get ready. You brushed your hair and teeth, then washed your face leisurely. You knew Kaz was likely already waiting for your promised arrival and he’d have some comment locked and loaded, just itching for an opportunity, but that only made you want to avoid it more. But the deal was the deal.
You tucked a pair of gloves into your pocket and cut a new bandage wrap from your fabric pile before you headed to see him. You greeted the few Dregs that were up at the early hour before you hesitated outside his office.
You tugged on the collar of your shirt, just so you didn’t pat your pocket, and shifted on your feet. You hated the fact that you were dreading something you were good at, simply because you had gotten something you had only dreamed of. And for what? Because you couldn’t believe it? Because you decided to want something so simple from the one person it always seemed so improbable from?
Then again, improbability wasn’t impossibility.
“Why are we staring?” Jesper whispered loudly and you jumped. “It’s just a door.”
“Ha ha.” You said sarcastically and jammed your elbow into his ribs. “And it’s not that I’m staring. I’m stalling, it’s different.”
“Okay… Why are you stalling? Meeting with the boss you don’t wanna deal with?”
“Of a sort.” You nodded. “Do you think…”
“Wylan would say no but I beg to differ.” He shrugged and glanced over with a wide grin. “What’s on your mind?”
You nodded towards Kaz’s door.
“What’d he do this time?” Jesper sighed and his smile fell.
“When he’s come back after having the ever-loving shit kicked out of him, have you ever heard him say anything strange?” You tried to keep it vague. Telling Jesper was just as bad as screaming it across the Barrel. You loved your friend but he was a gossip.
He gasped dramatically, thus confirming your hesitation. “Is there news?”
“Maybe… I’m hopeful, don’t get me wrong, but I also can’t convince myself it happened.”
“Well, what was it?”
“So you can tell all of Ketterdam and get us both in trouble?” You laughed. “No way.”
“Oh, come on!” He tried.
You shook your head with a smile and knocked on the office door. After a second, you could hear the tapping of his cane coming closer. You looked back at Jesper, who was still staring with wide, pleading puppy-dog eyes. The door cracked open so you shot your friend a wink and ducked inside.
“You took your time.” Kaz complained once you shut the door.
“Good morning to you too.” You rolled your eyes, both glad and disappointed to be back to your usual banter. You turned and found him sitting in your chair, cane resting against the arm while he rubbed out his bad leg. “How do you feel?”
He shrugged. You could’ve been mistaken, but he seemed more irritated than usual.
You made a face to yourself and crossed the room. You stopped a few inches from him, not even letting your shoes touch, and leaned in quietly. His eyes went wide for a moment and it almost seemed like he had a forward lean of his own. Your eyes were on the cut of his forehead, checking the length of it once then twice then a third time just for the hell of it.
But even with your focus on the injury, you could see the movement of his own eyes. Darting between yours, following the shape of your jaw, your lips, trailing down your neck.
“That one looks good.” You leaned away and nodded. “You didn't feel any sort of dizziness or sickness after I left?”
He seemed to lose himself in his thoughts before he answered you. You knelt in front of him, nudging his knees apart. The jostle seemed to bring him back to the moment, which caused a new flash of surprise. You wondered for a second if it meant something in your favor or if he was feeling some sort of after effect from the fight.
“Kaz?” You tried waving a hand in front of his face. “Is something wrong?”
He reached out and took your hand in his. You said nothing, but your expression betrayed you. Kaz let out a small chuckle and let himself smile again, smaller than the one that threw you last night but still genuine. Your eyes were wide and soft in awe at the simple contact but coming on the heels of the confessions last night, it had to have some weight.
“Nothing’s wrong.” He said quietly. “Truthfully, Y/N, I worried I had misunderstood you.”
“What?” Your brows furrowed.
“Do you remember what you said last night?”
You winced. “In painful detail, yes.”
He chuckled again and you lost the fight to hide a smile. “I thought about it all night.”
“Really?”
“I wondered if I had misheard you, if I had misread your cues.”
“Hang on.” You cut in, snapping into focus as if you had been hit with cold water. “Cues? I wasn’t giving cues.”
“Really?” He challenged lightly. “Should I list them?”
“Please do, but while you try and embarrass me, unbutton your shirt so I can check your side.”
“Those wide eyes that always find me in a room.” He pointed to your eyes before taking off his gloves to work the buttons. “You ask something specific of me then change it to mean everyone. The way you curl up in this chair and face my desk, pretending to read but you’re looking over your book towards me. Hell, even the way you say my name.”
“That’s… a good list.” You said carefully, admittedly embarrassed. You dropped your eyes and pulled the gloves from your pocket.
“Do you want to know what really convinced me?”
“Not particularly but I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.” You confessed with a sigh. Once your gloves were fitted to your hands, you leaned an elbow on his knee and looked back at him.
He leaned in as if to tell you a secret, though it was likely just to free some space while he wriggled out of his shirt sleeves. You wanted to lean in and meet him, finally kiss him, but you knew better. Instead, you forced your eyes to stay on his side. You tried not to let your gaze wander across his muscle-bound, scar-riddled torso.
Focus, Y/N.
You shifted to sit up on your knees and reached in. Your rubber covered fingers met his skin carefully and you gently prodded and pulled on the injury.
“Nothing to say anymore?” You asked lightly, hoping to break the now thick tension.
You dared a glance at his face and his eyes were closed, head leaning against the back of the chair. Your movements froze as you simply looked at him. He almost looked content, so much softer when his eyes were closed. It was small moments like that that made you forget he was the Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands Brekker. He was someone to be feared. Men with any sense wouldn’t dare to cross him. Women with any sense swooned and batted their lashes for his attention. Kids with any sense feared their closets because the monsters come from there.
But to you, especially in those fleeting vulnerable instances, he was just Kaz. And that was always enough for you.
You shook the thought and went back to your examination. You ran your fingers over the length of the wound and frowned when you realized one of the stitches were looser than it should’ve been.
“Were you messing with these last night?” You accused quickly.
“What?” He finally spoke. “No.”
“Dammit.” You cursed and pulled your hands away. You dropped to sit on your heels and blew a sigh while you threw the gloves on the floor in annoyance. “It’s not as tight as I’d like it to be. Must’ve been the gloves.”
“Do you need to fix it?”
You looked over at the discarded gloves and frowned. “More practice is what I need.” You muttered before looking back at Kaz. “It should be okay. It’s clean so as long as you keep it covered, it won’t bleed through your clothes or anything… But it’ll scar for sure now.”
He shrugged. “What’s one more?”
“You never told me what tipped you off.” You said, looping back to the prior conversation.
You knew you should’ve left, let the unspoken thing between you two stay unspoken, but you also knew you needed closure. You needed to know with certainty if your pining was obvious. If you needed to pack up and run from your embarrassment. Maybe Inej would let you join her crew next time she came to port.
He held his hand out to you and you went for it, then hesitated. You kept your hand just out of his reach before closing your fingers to create just a bit more space. The idea of putting your hand in his - his bare hand - was something you had only dreamed about. You heard him make a noise of impatience at your hesitation and he leaned forward again to take your hand in his.
“You’re always careful of my space.” He began carefully. It was a list he knew, something he had drafted and gone over a million times in the past few weeks. Or maybe it was months. It could’ve been years for all Kaz could tell. Everything with you seemed to come together in the best and worst ways. “You’re careful of contact.”
“Because I know you don’t like it.” You shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone seem to avoid you for one reason or another?”
“Well, yes, but you do it to be considerate not because you’re afraid.”
“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Kaz took a deep breath and his eyes finally met yours. You could see the war raging behind his eyes. The contact of your hand in his must’ve been driving him insane. You could see his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, like he had to consciously force the air in and out of his lungs. His jaw was tense. Hell, his whole body was wound tight as elastic, ready to snap. To shove you away, to scream at you, to start a fight neither of you would hold back in. But he didn’t. He willed himself to maintain the contact, even when you gave the slightest tug to free your hand.
“No.” He finally spoke. “Never you.”
“What are…” You tried, but the question wouldn’t form. What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he letting go? Why was he tormenting himself just to hold your hand?
“When I felt your gloves last night, it all made sense.” He explained and the grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly. “I knew I hadn’t been crazy.”
“I might be.” You said mindlessly and he chuckled.
“We both might be.” He agreed. “But still… You didn’t have to use gloves, but you did, because you wanted to be able to help me. Right?”
“Someone has to.” You tried to sound casual.
“They don’t.” He corrected. “But you want to.”
“Because I care about you, Kaz. You’ve been my friend for years. I’d hate to lose you.”
“Do you love me, Y/N? Truly.”
You swallowed hard, licking your lips to stall. Your free hand twitched and knowing your pockets were empty, you tugged on your shirt to adjust the fabric. Suddenly, the room felt very warm.
“I…” You began slowly. “You’re still holding my hand.”
“Yes.”
“Without your gloves.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “Yes.”
“And that doesn’t make you want to run?”
“It does.” He answered tightly. “But I don’t want to run from you.”
“You don’t have to do this.” You put your other hand on his knee. “Let go, Kaz.”
“No.”
“Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“Because how can I be with the woman I love if I cannot bring myself to touch her?” He answered quickly and your eyes went wide. “If I cannot hold her hand or touch her face, her lips… If I cannot bring myself to hold her, what kind of love is that?”
“If she truly loves you, she’ll bear it.” You offered.
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“Me?”
“Yes.” His expression shifted slightly to relief. “Yes, you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”
“So I didn’t imagine it last night? You said you loved me first.”
“Truthfully, I was worried I had imagined it all. But I couldn’t stop thinking about those damned gloves and how I wanted to feel your touch without them… Just be honest with me, Y/N. Do you want this?”
“Of course I do.” You said without thinking. “But I can’t ask you to torture yourself just to be with me.”
“You’re always so gentle.” He spoke softly, admiringly even, and it made you blush. “You don’t have to be so with me. I can take it.”
“And you shouldn’t have to.” You managed to wiggle your hand free and you watched his chest rise and fall with a heavy sigh of relief. “I do love you, Kaz, in a way that scares me. But I won’t be the reason you force yourself to do something you can’t.”
You stood and reached for the book you left the night before.
“No one forces me, Y/N.” He stood in front of, one small step to block your reach. “I want to do this for you.”
“Don’t make me move you.”
“You wouldn’t push a cripple without his cane, would you?” He feigned innocence.
“I’m serious, Brekker. Let me get my book so I can go and you can think this through.”
“I’ve spent weeks thinking it through.” He shook his head. “I want to try. For you, yes, but also myself… I want to hold you and kiss you and touch you for myself.”
“If I give in and if I’m with you.” You said firmly, pointing your finger near his face. “We need to be very open about limits. I won’t push and I expect you to stop when you need to.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted sarcastically and you had to refrain from kicking him in the shin. “Anything else?”
“You need to give me your word, Kaz.”
“Don’t trust me?” He raised a brow.
“I trust you with my life you buffoon.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “But I need to know you’ll commit yourself to what I’m asking.”
“Y/N, darling. I give you my word, on any and all Saints you want to invoke, that I will take that time I need so long as you’ll let me.”
“Good.” You nodded. You thought if there was anything else you could or should have him agree to. Your mind was blank so you shoved your hands into your pockets. “I suppose that means we’re together now.”
He grinned and you couldn’t help but smile in return.
“Finally.” He said and you could tell he was truly happy. “Can I kiss you?”He took a step closer.
You freed a hand and gingerly brushed your fingers along his temple, sneaking into his hair for a second. He gasped but you noticed he didn’t flinch. Feather-light, your touch went along the angle of his jaw and danced down his neck, curved with his shoulder, and skimmed his arm until you reached his hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you felt his other hand under your chin, tilting your head back.
“If you’re sure you can bear it.” You said quietly.
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jumped | kaz brekker x fem!reader
description: y/n is out one night getting supplies for the black veil and on her way back, she gets mugged. when she returns to the tomb, everyone is concerned.
trigger warnings: graphic violence, assault, descriptions of minor injuries, blood, angst, seductive behavior, etc. read at your own risk.
word count: 2.6k
Rain tapped against the cobblestones as you made your way back to the gondel. Its rope was tied to the docks, securing its place. A cloak was draped over your shoulders as the hood was pulled over your head, concealing your face from potential threats.
In your grasp, you carried a large paper bag that was filled with canned goods and other essentials the tomb was lacking. Each week, you rotated with the other Crows who would go out and retrieve supplies. You didn't mind going out, but it was dangerous to do so under the circumstances.
As you placed the filled bag gently into the gondel, you stood up straight and reached for the rope that was tied to the dock. Your hand froze as you heard several heavy footsteps coming from behind you.
You swore under your breath and reached inside your cloak to the bow and arrows that were concealed perfectly. You made haste with pulling your weapons out. You drew an arrow into your bow and pulled back with precision as you turned your whole body in the sound of the direction of the footsteps.
The rain continued to fall and the subtle haze that formed across the docks blurred your vision. The sun was already setting and the torches that lit the town were burning out from the rapid fall of rain.
Your lips parted just slightly as you controlled your breath. Your eyes flickered to the left as you heard the footsteps approach closer. Your heartbeat was steady, unafraid and unyielding.
A dark shadow was casted in front of you on the docks. You couldn't make out the face, but you had a gut feeling that whomever the person had been was not approaching for casual conversation.
As a way of warning, you released your grip onto the bow and shot an arrow clean past the person's right ear. To your dismay, they did not slow down nor turn around. You released a soft grunt of frustration and drew back another arrow.
"Whomever you are, leave now," You spoke with pure authority, not once did your voice waver. They continued stepping forward and reached into their jacket to pull out a freshly sharpened knife. Your eyes glanced at the weapon. You swallowed thickly and aimed your arrow, not at them, but at their hand which held a tight grip on the knife. "Leave now," You spoke through gritted teeth. "I promise I won't miss this time.. if you choose not to walk away."
Your threats didn't seem to make much of a difference to the body before you. You lifted your gaze to their dark hooded eyes. The haze from the rain didn't make it easy to tell who they were, but it didn't seem to matter in the moment.
Swiftly, the person before you charged forth with the knife gripped tightly in their hand. You dodged the strike by bending forward and getting behind them. You held your arrow out and shot at their leg. It struck them in the calf as you smirked at the grunt that left their lips. It sounded like a man, but you weren't too sure.
They reached down their left and ripped the arrow from their fresh, bloody wound. Snapping the arrow in half, they stood and rushed towards you again, pinning you to the slick, wet ground. Shocked by the sudden drop, you breathed quickly for a few moments before reaching up with a free hand to punch them square in the nose. They staggered off of you and held their gushing, bloody nose.
You quickly went for the gondel as they were distracted, and hopefully a little delirious. You untied the ropes and hopped into the boat, ready to make your way back to the tomb. You let out a harsh, guttural scream as a wave of sharp pain filled your right shoulder. You looked back to see the person standing there with empty hands. You lowered your gaze to the knife that was lodged into your shoulder, deep and painful.
You winced and made a horrible attempt at rowing with your non-dominant arm. Blood was seeping from your shoulder and soaking your cloak. The metallic smell filled your nostrils. Stains of the thick red liquid soaked into the bottom of the boat and on the paper bag that was filled with supplies for the tomb.
.
Grunting in pain, you pulled the gondel up onto the wet ground and tied it with your left hand to a tree nearby the water. You winced as you leaned into the boat to grab the paper bag and stumbled towards the tomb. Your vision blurred with black dots as you walked through the cemetery, the rain still pouring ferociously.
Eventually, you made it to the tomb (you weren't even sure how you managed it, but you did). You carelessly dropped the bag onto the table and grunted. Your breathing was harsh. Wylan, Jesper and Matthias were seated on the couch as you made your way in. You removed your hood off your head and turned to see a trail of blood you left behind stepping inside. The three of them stood up and walked towards you.
"What the hell happened?" Jesper asked, dragging out each word.
"Are you okay?" Matthias asked.
"Sit down, Y/N," Wylan suggested as he pulled a chair out for you.
They didn't seem to have noticed the knife protruding from your shoulder until the moment you sat down. You winced in pain, tightening your jaw.
"Oh shit," Jesper murmured.
"Can one of you three idiots get Nina?!" You hadn't meant to raise your voice, but you were in such pain you weren't in full control over your actions.
"Right!" Wylan left to find Nina somewhere in the tomb.
Eventually, Kaz appeared with a locked jaw and sharp eyes. If he was concerned, he didn't appear to be. He was good at concealing his emotions.
"What happened?" He questioned as he came around the table to look at you directly.
"Well, I went into town to get supplies," You replied and held your arm tightly, starting to see more and more black dots in your vision.
"I got her!" Wylan pronounced as he came back to the room with both Nina and Inej.
"Oh Saints.." Nina whispered and stared at you in the chair with the knife through your shoulder.
"Hello to you too," You gritted as Nina pulled a chair to sit before you. She got to work quickly, but kept careful with every motion she made.
"I'm still waiting for a legitimate answer," Kaz stated with an irritant tone.
"Okay," You exhaled, "I was on my way back to the gondel when someone was coming from behind me." You explained, "I shot a warning at them, but they didn't stop. At one point, they pinned me down so I think I broke their nose and then I made a run for it to get to the boat and as I was making my miserable getaway, they threw the knife at me."
Nina successfully removed the knife and wasted no time in covering it. You hissed when she cleaned the wound with aged whiskey. You sighed after the wound was clothed in the protectant guaze.
"Thanks, Nina," You whispered.
"You lost a lot of blood, you should rest," She pulled her lips into a tight, thin smile.
"From now on, we get supplies in pairs," Kaz announced to no one in particular. "I don't want anything like this to happen again." And then, he was gone.
.
Inside a small room, you attempted to fill a copper tub with boiled water to wash away the dirt and blood that coated your body. Your cloak had nearly been ruined, but Inej reassured you that she would try and patch it up. As you used your uninjured arm to pour the water into the tub, you hissed feeling the strain against your right shoulder.
"Need help?" Kaz entered the room, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. His cane was nowhere in sight.
"Uhm, yeah," You whispered. You almost didn't hear yourself speak.
Kaz pushed himself off the wall and helped you pour the water into the copper tub. It took a bit more time to fill the tub than you would've liked. You stared at Kaz's profile as he continued pouring in the water.
"Enjoying the view?" Kaz questioned without breaking into a smile. You didn't respond, instead you merely continued gazing. "I charge twenty kruge for a show, but I can give you a minor discount," He finally met your gaze and swallowed thickly.
"Kaz Brekker making flirtatious jokes? Somebody must write this down," Your lips formed a small grin.
Kaz's lips curved upward into a slight smile. With the others, he was always stoic but around you there were moments when Kaz could relax. His shoulders eased just a bit and his furrowed brows released the tension.
"Are you well?" You asked in the comfortable stillness.
"You just got knifed in the shoulder and you're asking me if I'm well?" Kaz questioned, staring at you intently.
"I believe that was my question, yes," You nodded.
Kaz broke the eye contact and went to pour more water into the tub when it was finished boiling. He didn't entertain your question with a response, instead he continued filling the tub.
"I'm still waiting for a legitimate answer," You stood slightly up on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear the same thing he said to you not too long ago.
"I'm well," He replied with amusement in his gaze as he looked at you.
"Good," You whispered and stepped back away from him for a moment. The tub was nearly full so you started to unbutton your pants. Kaz wasn't looking, but you got the sense that he could see everything from where he stood. He had his jaw clenched, almost as if he were fighting his inner thoughts.
"Can I help?" He didn't look at you when he asked. He could see you struggling due to your injured arm.
Your breath caught in your throat as you blinked and looked up to him. "Sure," You nodded and then added, "Please."
Kaz placed the pot of water back down and walked towards you. You gazed at him as your palms began to produce a thin layer of sweat. He removed his gloves and placed them on the small table beside you. You looked up to his face, but his gaze was locked downward, as his hands moved to the button of your pants. He unclasped it effortlessly and, only then, did he raise his eyes to look into yours.
There was silence for a long while. At least, it felt like a long while.
"Thank you," You whispered.
Kaz didn't respond to your gratitude and inside nodded once with a mere dip of his chin. You weren't sure if it was because of how close the two of you stood, but you could almost hear the rapid thumping of his heart.. or maybe it was your heart.
He stepped back one step and swallowed, "Is that enough water?"
You turned your eyes to the copper tub and nodded mindlessly, completely forgetting about the bath you planned to take.
"Yes," You nodded.
"Okay," Kaz bowed his head once. "Then, I'll be on my way. You'll rest afterwards?"
You nodded softly, not trusting your own voice.
"Good," He turned and headed for the doorway, but you reached out to grasp his wrist. Kaz met your eyes again with a question in them that needed no words.
"Stay," You exhaled. "Stay with me, please." You weren't sure if your voice was shaking or if your body was shaking, but frankly you didn't seem to care in the moment. "I don't want to be alone," You stated once you trusted your voice again.
Kaz looked as though he might've been contemplating and, eventually, he slowly nodded. You sighed contently and began to remove your clothing. It didn't seem to phase either of you, but something in the room was different. You looked up to Kaz when you couldn't quite shimmy out of your top.
He stepped forward and assisted you in removing the top. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked at Kaz. His gaze was hard, yet soft. He looked as though he could devour you in that very moment, but something had a strong grip on him. His pride, perhaps, you thought.
Kaz helped you out of the rest of you garments and assisted you into the bubbly and soapy tub. The water was warm against your greasy and dirt-covered skin. Kaz pulled a chair out to sit beside the tub, letting his bad leg stretch out. It must've felt relieving to be able to take the weight off it for a while, since he hadn't come in with his cane.
"Thank you," You whispered and leaned your head back against the tub.
He nodded again, gazing at you with both admiration and hunger. You couldn't quite differentiate the two; not that they were all that much different anyway.
You made sure not to get your wrapped arm wet as you reached for a bar of soap to clean your hair with.
"Allow me," Kaz spoke softly as he reached for the soap. You nodded with a small smile and turned so that he could easily wash your hair. His hands were perfectly pale and they felt nice as he massaged your scalp and scrubbed the soap in between the strands.
"Perhaps, if the thug life doesn't suit you forever, you might think of becoming a barber," You smiled as you head was leaned back against the tub.
"I will take it into consideration," Kaz grinned, you could hear it in his voice as your eyes were closed.
Silence stirred in the room. The only sound came from Kaz rinsing your hair after washing it. You sat there for a while, until the water ran cold.
"I'm sorry about what happened," Kaz whispered. "I should've been there."
"What?" You turned to face him, your chest covered by all the bubbles. Kaz looked at you with a nervous and uneasy gaze. "Kaz, there isn't anything you or anyone else could've done."
"I could've helped you," He replied, almost sadly.
"I'm alive, aren't I?" You asked and reached your good arm over to gently grasp his ungloved hand. They were warm and soft. You stared at your hands for a moment and breathed deeply. Kaz must've been feeling the same way because his chest rose and fell rapidly.
"I don't want anything like this to happen again," He repeated his words from earlier, but this time it was in a whisper. Kaz leaned closer to you as you stared at him with a beautiful gaze.
You gently squeezed his hand as his lips found yours. It was a kiss filled with longing and passion, but it was soft. He tasted of smoke and pinewood. You leaned your head back gently a little bit as his other hand cupped your face.
Slowly, you pulled back and felt your cheeks warm with heat. Kaz stared at you lovingly.
"So," You whispered, "are you gonna come join me?" Your eyes were filled with mischief as you gently grazed your fingers across the surface of the water.
Kaz smiled, coyly, in response and shrugged off his coat.
.
a/n: SO i just started reading six of crows, i'm half way through crooked kingdom and i'm in LOVE dude. i need to watch the show when i finish with the book. i hope you guys like this and that was okayish?? i'm kinda proud of it! if you want more six of crows stuff, PLEASE let me know!! ily guys so much!! mwah! <3 — angelina.
#six of crows#kaz brekker#inej ghafa#wylan van eck#jesper fahey#matthais helvar#nina zenik#smut#imagine#reader#x reader#edit#six of crows x reader#six of crows x you#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x y/n#wylan x jesper#nina x matthias#kaz x inej#kaz x reader#angst#injured reader#injury#grishaverse#the grisha trilogy#shadow and bone#crooked kingdom
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#my art#artwork#crow does art#digital art#legends of avantris#once upon a witchlight#ouaw#ouaw twig#ouaw torbek#ouaw gricko#ouaw frost#torbek#morning frost#gricko grimgrin#twig toadspring#i wanna post these in the loa discord but EEK!! intimidating...#i messed up the formatting on my first actual post and got so embarrassed 😵💫#if anyone knows of a fan-only server... sighh i just wanna meet people and have them see my cute little jokes n stuff!!#still waiting for someone to point out dungeon master torbek in my other post#whaaat who said that?? anyway
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me when i get asked why i suddenly dislike a character (i can’t tell them it’s because i read a fanfic where said character made y/n’s life miserable and now i have personal beef with them)
#kaz brekker x reader#six of crows x reader#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#harry potter x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#eddie munson x reader#konig x y/n#konig x reader#x reader#y/n#reader insert#fanfiction#fluff#angst
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Realizing dead boy detectives isn't getting a season two means realizing that Niko won't get a proper funeral, Jenny will be left in shock and guilt about her cuz she was just a kid, Crystal wont get to heal without focusing on her parents, Edwin won't get to run a proper, official agency without death on their tale, Charles won't have his whole realization character arc, NO MORE TRAGIC MICK ADVICE 😭, the night nurse wont be seen happy or at least mildly content, whatever the fuck happened with Esther and Monty, and most importantly there isn't any more forever to figure stuff out
#im sorry this is so sad im going thru it rn#i mean i can imagine fanfics n stuff#im still hopeful that petitions will do something though#dead boy detectives#dbda#dead boy detective agency#dead boy detective netflix#edwin payne#edwin x charles#charles x edwin#charles rowland#payneland#chedwin#edwin dead boy detectives#niko sasaki#niko dead boy detectives#niko dbd#crystal palace#crystal palace surname von hoverkraft#esther finch#monty the crow#tragic mick
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Hello, i have a potential kaz x reader request for you!! I, for some reason, love the idea of a very soft/domestic kaz moment with reader who isn’t involved in the crime life. So what about y/n being married to kaz and for some reason she makes her way down to the crow club (maybe someone broke into the house or something) and kaz is extreamly confused and concerned and the rest if the crows are like "andddd who are you?"
if you don't feel it, feel free to ignore!
'Intruder' - Kaz Brekker x reader
Prompt - Kaz is a highly secretive man, even to his closest friends, but what happens when a panicked citizen rushes into the Crow Club demanding his presence? It could even suggest that he had the ability to love. - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Civilian!Reader (Gender neautral)(married for at least a few years but not specified) - Warnings: Thief enters readers house, brief mention of fighting and injury, a knife?? Kaz just being super soft for you! <333 PART TWO NOW POSTED! (click here) - A/N: Thank you for ALL the love on the last post, and my first fic ever! I hope this does just as well and its enjoyed too. I know its not as fluffy as maybe expected but i really like how it turned out. PLEASE KEEP REQUESTING!!(some moonknight coming soon) <3333
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The chilling wind of Ketterdam rushed past your face, adding to your already watering eyes that couldn’t stop frantically searching around for further threats.
You had been enjoying a quiet morning, browsing the market, drinking tea with friends, and even finding a new hat for Kaz. All was serene, until you turned the lock in the front door, only to be confronted by a menacing figure, knife gripped in one hand, Kaz’s favourite (and most expensive) tea set in the other.
A small gasp escaped you, before your mind took control, rushing forward to land a harsh blow directly on the figure’s nose, just at the right angle like Kaz had demonstrated.
He let out a murderous scream whilst dropping the tea set onto the ground, the shattering of the pieces echoing in your heart and mind. However, this granted you enough time to grab the edge of his jacket and pull him through the doorframe, using every ounce of your strength.
He stumbled down the steps of the small apartment, loosing his footing and falling rapidly, landing brutally on the cobblestone street below and roaring in pain as a jolting crack resounded from where he landed.
Without thinking, you scrambled inside, bolted the door, and ran as fast as you possibly could out of the side entrance, internally crying as your boots struggled through the remains of your husband's most beloved item.
As you struggled through the tight alleyway, you prayed that the Stadwatch had noticed the commotion and apprehended the man. As you bolted down the poorly lit streets of the barrel, thoughts of terror began plaguing your mind.
What if Kaz hadn’t taught you to defend yourself? What if you had reacted too slowly? Would Kaz be angry with you for not finishing the job? How would ‘Dirtyhands’ react to your utter horror at one intruder?
You were abruptly ripped from your thoughts by the unmistakable image of a crow, hanging magnificently above the crowded street. Pushing your way through the crowd, you suppressed the nerves rising in your chest, threatening to choke you, as you entered the crow club for the first time.
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The unmistakable smell of alcohol and smoke clouded your senses immediately, as crowds of ‘pigeons,’ as Kaz may call them, wandered around the floor without a care for others around them.
As frightening as the previous events had been, you didn’t allow yourself to be overwhelmed by this too, shoving your violently shaking hands into your pockets to stop the visible nerves from showing.
Jesper and Wylan sat in close proximity at the bar edge, as far from the yelling and cheering of the customers as they possibly could. Your gazed locked onto the face of the tall Zemeni man, thinking back to the hundreds of times Kaz’s mask had slipped, and he had spoken fondly of his best friend.
Despite Kaz’s firm objection to verbal communication, he often fell victim to your warmth and comfort, his affections for his crew spilling into casual conversation, almost subconsciously. Of course, the Bastard of the Barrel couldn’t hold onto something as weak as friendship. However, this meant that you were very familiar with each of his ‘crows,’ despite never officially meeting any of them.
Mustering all the courage you could, you sucked in a sharp breath, preparing yourself for the challenging journey to your last hope at finding him.
You weaved your way cautiously between the rowdy groups, dodging drunken gestures and swinging arms, until you reached the pair sat at the bar, panic spreading through your body like wildfire. You made note to keep your hands firmly tucked within the safety of your jacket, in a feeble attempt to keep up a façade of confidence.
As their gazes turned towards you, you gently cleared your throat in the hopes of removing any indication of fright, and in turn, weakness from your voice.
“I’m looking for Kaz? Kaz Brekker?” you stuttered out, eyes darting around to avoid the quizzical gazes of the two men in front of you. Under different circumstances you wished to have met them when your usual air of joy blanketed not only you, but all of those who encountered you too. Yet it seemed like the Saints weren't on your side for that wish today.
You were snapped back from your thoughts, as they glanced at each other, sharing an unspoken but clear sense of bewilderment between them at your odd request. Often drunken pigeons, or rough street urchins would request to see the boss, but it wasn’t a common sight to see a regularly dressed citizen in such a state demanding an audience with Mr Brekker himself.
“I’m afraid it’s pretty difficult to get a meeting with the boss, always busy you know?” spoke the man you assumed to be Jesper, in a kind but skeptical tone, swirling the drink in his hand as he failed to decipher the reason for your visit.
Panic began to claw its way deeper into your chest, as you quickly blurted out “Please, its important, I need to see Kaz. Please bring me to see him.” The sudden outburst once again surprised the men, however Wylan’s gaze softened at the clear desperation on your features, and Jesper’s confusion morphed into something that resembled pity.
Wylan subtly leaned into Jesper, whispering “I think you should take her, she seems pretty desperate?” causing Jesper to let out a sigh before meeting your gaze yet again.
Reluctantly, Jesper stood up, stretching his limbs well, before letting out a dramatic sigh, followed by a feigned annoyance at the request, analyzing you for a moment before stating, “Let’s go see the boss then.”
He quickly turned back to you, flashing a lopsided, yet winning grin, which put to rest some of the bubbling anxiety that was becoming inescapable. As you ascended the stairs to his office, a skeptical looking woman glanced curiously up at the three of you, hopping out of her chair to trail behind you, whilst stuffing the remains of what looked like a waffle into her mouth.
Before you could inquire about the third individual following your small group, you were suddenly met with the dark oak door of Kaz Brekker’s office. Jesper shot another reassuring grin back at you, as he rapidly knocked on the office door and let himself in before an answer called out.
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The instant you saw your husband, the tears glossed over your eyes, shining with a dangerous threat of escaping. However, to your surprise, you were able to win the valiant battle for a little longer.
You knew how vital it was for your husband to keep his personal life separated from his work life; one wrong move, and you could end up in the hands of another gang, tortured in exchange for information on the Dregs. This knowledge was what kept you from barreling towards his desk without a second thought, with even the smallest slip from Jesper potentially ruining every bit of yours and Kaz’s struggle to break down his walls.
Kaz sat at his desk at the centre of the bleak room, a faint patch of light hitting his face from a glowing street lantern, casting deep shadows across his sharp features. His shoulders tensed as he remained solely focused on the blueprint in front of him, his harsh glare at the sheet almost seemed as if he was planning to murder it. Perhaps if you weren’t so shaken you may have let out a soft laugh at his pure concentration.
“What is it? I have no time for irrelevant interruption, this marksheet needs to be completed before twelve bells tonight,” A sharp voice suddenly cut through the thick silence. Jesper cleared his throat before confronting his boss, shifting his weight between each foot at the temper that Kaz was evidently displaying.
“Well, you see, I was sitting downstairs with Wylan at the bar, when all of a sudden…” Jesper started, but was cut off by a deadly look from Kaz to get to the point. As his gaze shot upwards towards the sharpshooter, he finally noticed the second figure in the room and his heart plummeted.
Why were you here?
Kaz’s mind began spinning, grasping for any logical reason as to why you were in the one of the most dangerous staves of the Barrel, requiring his assistance.
An identical panic to yours seized his chest as he inspected your state, your hair was windswept, eyes glossed over and glinting with a touch of fear, a visible shake to your arms and legs, which he had been fortunate enough to never experience until now.
You looked utterly terrified.
A single murderous look was enough for Jesper to throw his hands up in defense, and saunter quietly out of the room, glancing curiously back at the two of you as he shut the door. Jesper thought to himself that his life in the long run would be far more valuable than the price of his curiosity now.
Although Kaz is a man of few words, he seemed truly speechless, barely managing to register his own steps as he moved slowly towards you, each limp bringing his comfort closer and closer to you. Once he had reached your figure, he noticed you had curled in on yourself, hands clasped firmly together in front of you, and eyes darting rapidly around his face, searching for something, as it appeared to him.
He slowly reached towards you, and with a gloved hand, tenderly unwound your fingers from their iron grip, instead intertwining them with his own to bring you comfort and slow your light but swift breathing. Kaz remained tight-lipped, words rushing through his head, yet not formulating into any combination which he thought would be appropriate to calm you down.
He gazed intensely into your eyes, softening with each moment as he took in your shaken state, something that was rare due to his exceptional ability to keep you away from his violent life.
Until now.
Yet you had taught him not to run anymore when he encounters challenges, leading him to battle his mind later, and care for you in the present. Plus, you had the courage to make your way through the barrel in this condition, the least he could do was give you his everything.
You released a long, shaky sigh, staring only at Kaz’s chest now in order to match your breaths, imagining that your hearts were beating together too. You knew Kaz was struggling to find a grip within his thoughts, fingers twitching against your own as his body worked overtime, in a way it only did for you.
Several minutes passed in a strange silence, as the pair of you basked in each other's presence, the close distance allowing both of you to be assured the other is safe and within reach, yet the tension and anxiety still buzzed through the air.
“Someone broke in, I’m not sure who or from where. Tried to steal your favorite tea set, you know the one you brought back from Ravka once? I hit him square like you said. But it, but it boke. Shattered actually. It gave me enough time to run, but I don’t know. He may have followed or…” you suddenly burst out, the emotions flowing out of you through your words, and soon to follow were the tears.
You were cut off in your rambling however, as a feather-light kiss graced your temple, drawing you into a pool of warmth, suddenly able to feel the heat of the fire and the glow of the candles that surrounded Kaz’s office, likely gifts of yours.
Although Kaz’s voice was hardened, you knew he was holding back significantly to soothe you, building up wrath to unleash on the unfortunate man who entered your house earlier. The claws of the anxiety released their hold on you, allowing you to breathe deeply for the first time in hours.
“I’m here, darling, and you don’t need to think about that anymore,” he eventually breathed out, “I'll take care of it. I promise. I promise you,” he whispered against your forehead, again leaving the faintest outline of a kiss on the soft skin.
Whilst he was nowhere near healed, over the years you had opened up his deepest wounds and started to stitch them up, with each moment the pain easing ever so slightly. Direct touches were now common, with light pecks, or hand holding being Kaz's most favored actions.
Sometimes if you were lucky, you could get a short kiss on the lips, or a long hug through the safety of many layers; each being evident signs of his love for you, and how you were truly the only one to crack the code to the Bastard of the Barrel's heart.
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Kaz didn’t leave your side for the remainder of the night, bringing you anything you asked for, sitting the armchair closer to his desk to keep him company, hands held tightly until he deemed it safe enough to escort you home.
Wrapping you warmly with his largest coat, he gently placed his best hat atop your head, offering a small smile and breathy laugh as it tilted at an angle. Looking up to meet his gaze, you returned the grin, smile spreading to your eyes and cheeks. Kaz carefully adjusted the edges of the coat to obscure your face, being thorough in the process to avoid any identification of who was accompanying him.
As the door clicked open, and the pair stepped into the hallway, pinkies interlinked, a group of three snooping crows barreled backwards, hitting into each other and the walls. Kaz sent a deathly glare at each of them, as they stood in shock at the sight before them, Jesper gasping, Wylan gaping with fright, and Nina's smirk widening by the second.
After a series of extreme threats hurled at the group outside his office, Kaz pushed past them and dragged you with him, turning his coat collar upwards to hide the growing embarrassment colouring his face.
He crushed the feeling down, instead turning to his internal plotting to enact revenge on your behalf, inwardly smirking at the image of the man begging him for mercy as he pays for his offence in blood.
Meanwhile, Nina stood grinning to herself, proud of her newfound knowledge which she was certain she could use against Kaz at some point soon. Because from that office, she not only heard the hammering heart of the poor citizen girl, but also the one of a love-struck gang leader too.
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#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker x reader fluff#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader imagines#kaz brekker x reader#six of crows x reader#six of crows imagine#six of crows#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone season 2#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x reader#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker x y/n
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matching bracelets (kaz brekker x reader)
summary: when (y/n) buys kaz a bracelet she does so as a joke, she knows he’ll never actually wear it. imagine her surprise when she sees it dangling around his wrist.
based on the prompt: person A gets person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off.
warnings: mentions of blood and torture (not explicit, briefly mentioned)
kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)
a/n: guess who's back after a year of being mia!! i've been working on a lot of fics, but inspiration just hasn't been there, so i'm going slow, i don't like to force myself to write if i don't feel like it. anywaysss, i hope you enjoy this one! it was such a fun ride to write :)
Jesper opens the door with a loud bang, strutting into the Slat with his head held high and a slight jump in his step. He’s whistling good-naturedly, his left hand twirling a pistol and his right hand holding a rumpled piece of paper.
(Y/N)’s right hand— which had immediately reached for the pocket knife in her boot at the tumultuous noise— retreats back to her side. She relaxes, letting her shoulders sag and briefly looking down to make the final correction on a contract Kaz had her look over, left hand holding the pen and swiftly moving over the paper.
Jesper makes his way towards her, still whistling. She follows him from the corner of her eye, a slight smirk taking over her features. He’s in a good mood, the kind of mood he’s only ever in when the Gods are in his favor and he manages to miraculously not gamble away all his money. It’s not something that happens often.
“Did you win some?” she asks, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way the Sharpshooter preens under the attention. Jesper, very much in character and to (Y/N)’s delight, twirls around and does a ridiculous dance before taking a small bow.
“Baby, I won a whole lot.”
She huffs out a laugh, leaning back as she watches him place the pistol in its respective holster before plopping down on the chair by her right side and tossing her a small bag.
(Y/N) catches it smoothly, reflexes as sharp as always.
She doesn’t need to open the sack to know there’s kruge in there; the sound of coins jiggling against each other is a dead giveaway.
Jesper winks, a teasing smile on his lips. He tips his chair back, feet on top of the table, “Because you’re my favorite.”
It’s really because he owes her more kruge than he’ll ever be able to repay, but (Y/N) plays along. She’s never cared much about money, anyways.
“You sure do know how to charm a lady,” she smirks.
“I’m good at charming gents, too.”
“Versatile.”
“You know me.”
(Y/N) smiles, softer around the edges this time, something reserved only for her closest friends. She’s about to being correcting another contact— she has twelve to go through, all because she’d been bored and had decided annoying Kaz would be a great way to spend her time, he obviously hadn’t agreed —when Jesper slides over the piece of paper he’d been holding in his right hand. In the time he’d made his way towards her he’d somehow managed to crumple it completely.
She takes it, half curious, half willing to do anything to procrastinate revising and correcting those stupid documents.
“Brought this for you, too. I’ve got the feeling you’re going to enjoy this much more than the money.”
Her eyebrows furrow with curiosity as she slowly opens up the paper.
Ink contrasts the yellowish hue of the paper. Her own face greets her, drawn by hand, but fairly accurate.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N)
Wanted dead or alive.
1,000 kruge.
She can’t help the snicker that falls from her lips
Jesper is right. This is better, much better.
“Can’t believe it’s only a thousand this time,” she huffs, a small pout on her lips. “I must be losing my touch.”
Jesper snorts at that.
(Because she hasn’t lost her touch, not even a little, and they both know it. Just yesterday she’d managed to get vital information out of a Black Tip member with a single touch and a minimal amount of bloodshed. Three days before that she’d disposed of a rival gang member who’d been speaking too freely and she’d made sure his body would never be found. Two weeks prior to that Kaz had sent her to steal a miniature stature and she’d done it without a hitch, forging an identical copy in less than five days. No, she still very much has it.)
“I might have to go overboard next time,” she muses quietly to herself, “do something that will raise the bounty to at least two thousand five hundred.”
She traces the outline of her name, biting down a smile when Jesper snorts.
“You’re insane,” the Sharpshooter deadpans, the fondness in his tone almost tangible.
(Y/N) smiles wickedly at him, “So they say.”
Marbles is what they’ve nicknamed her around the Barrel. They say she’s lost them all. And it must be true, she must be out of her mind, because having a bounty on your head in Ketterdam is nothing less than a death sentence. It means having the most ruthless assassins coming after you, all looking for a way to make fast money. It’s living with the constant fear of someone sneaking up on you and slicing your throat, of having your food poisoned, of being choked to death in your sleep, of having your closest friends betray you as a means to survive. But to (Y/N), who has been part of the city’s underworld since before being able to formulate words, who has had any sort of ability to feel fear beaten out of her, this is nothing but one of the most amazing sources of entertainment. It keeps her on her toes, brings an adrenaline rush that does not compare to anything else. She must be crazy because any sane person would be paralyzed in fear, running for their lives, and yet all she can feel is the comforting thrill of being in mortal danger. (And, yes, it is comforting. She was raised to be a weapon, trained to withstand any form of torture; having Death peering over her shoulder is something she’s comfortable with, something she’s used to, something that soothes her). Besides, even if she wasn’t deadly confident in her own abilities (which she very much is), and even if she was able to feel terror overtaking her limbs (which she doesn’t think she’ll ever feel again), the title she holds would be enough to keep her relatively safe; she is Kaz’s right hand, and no one dares touch something that belongs to Dirtyhands.
(Y/N) stares at the poster for a little while longer— they got her nose wrong, made it too pointy —before smirking to herself. She knows how this will all go down, has seen it played out a few dozen times before (this is a regular occurrence, after all, a bounty is placed on her head every couple of months, whenever she loses her temper and murders someone who was deemed untouchable, or steals something much too valuable for her blood-stained hands). So, yes, she knows how this will go; the bounty will stay up for a couple of weeks, long enough for a few to dare try to kill her, and then it’ll be removed by whoever placed it once they realize it’s futile, once they see how everyone who even dares breathe too close to her winds up dead. She hopes the assassination attempts are entertaining, she hopes whoever dares come after her head gives her a good fight, if only to keep things interesting. It’s been a while since she’s had some unrestrained fun.
(Kaz keeps her on a tight rein, knows better than to let her run around freely. To say things can get out of hand when she’s left to her own devices would be an understatement.)
“Again?”
The voice comes from behind her, and (Y/N) doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she heard his steps since before he even walked into the room. (It’s easy to know when it’s Kaz, he subconsciously places more weight on his left leg to keep the right one from aching, it makes his footsteps distinctive.) Still, she angles her head to meet his eyes. He’s leaning over her chair, cold eyes watching the bounty poster with disdain.
He’s never said it but (Y/N) knows that he doesn’t appreciate her life being imperiled. She is, in a way, an extension of him, and therefore any threats to her he sees as direct threats to him. Dirtyhands doesn’t take it well to being threatened.
“It’s okay, boss,” Jesper calls out. He’s still tipping his chair back, now playing with his guns. (Y/N) is kind of tempted to lean forward and kick one of the chair’s wooden legs, just to watch him struggle, possibly even fall. But Jesper’s known her long enough to realize when she’s on the verge of becoming a nuisance because his eyes narrow playfully and he lets the chair’s weight drop forward, “I wouldn’t worry too much.”
From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) can see the way Kaz’s face morphs. It’s almost indistinguishable, but she notices it. She thinks she would be able to spot the most minimal change in Kaz, she’s known him long enough for that. (Y/N) watches in amusement as he opens his mouth, no doubt to argue that he isn’t worrying at all, because Gods forbid he ever outwardly cared about anyone, but Jesper beats him to the punch and keeps going, “Heard some of Pekka’s Lions talking ‘bout how they’re not even going to try to come after her this time.”
“How boring,” she mutters to herself in disappointment, reaching for her glass of whisky. She’d meant for the comment to go unheard but Jesper’s snicker tells her that she wasn’t successful.
She takes a chug as Jesper points an accusatory finger at her and smirks, “That’s all on you, Marbles.”
At her bewildered look, he elaborates, “Two of them said something about not wanting to meet the same fate as the Razorgull guy from a couple of months ago—” (Y/N) smirks at that. The guy had deserved it. He hadn’t just tried to kill her, but also grope her. Murder she could understand, respect even, but touching someone else without their consent? No, she drew the line there. She’d had him swallow his own testicles; it’d seemed fitting enough. “—and the other one said that even if you hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t come close, not with you being Kaz’s right hand,” Jesper pauses for a second, a smug smile appearing on his lips, “and his best friend.”
Their reaction is instantaneous; Kaz goes rigid at the words and a smirk takes over (Y/N)’s features.
Oh, if the night didn’t just suddenly get better.
She glances up at her best friend, only to find him already glaring daggers at Jesper, who shrugs helplessly and innocently says, “Just telling it like I heard it, boss.” The flicker of amusement in his eyes reveals that he’s very much aware of just how much ammunition he’s provided (Y/N) with.
(Y/N)’s smirk becomes wider and gains a teasing edge when Kaz looks down to meet her eyes. His eyes harden, explicitly telling her to not utter a single word. Sadly for him, she has never been one to follow the rules, and Kaz must notice she’s not about to obey because his face morphs slightly, just enough to show the most minimum amount of discomfort. He cringes just the tiniest bit, bracing himself.
He knows her too well.
“You hear that?” she asks him, tone light and filled with amusement, “We’re best friends!”
“We are not,” Kaz tenses his jaw as he replies. He backs away from her, as if creating physical space between them will somehow stop the words from leaving her mouth and making their way towards him. As if distance could make her less of an bother.
(Y/N) fake gasps, clutching the skin over her heart in the most dramatic manner, “You wound me deeply, Kazzy.”
Jesper snorts, coughing to try to drown the laughter. She might be the only one who doesn’t get a knife to the jugular when calling him that.
Kaz’s eyes snap toward the Sharpshooter and the look must be deadly because Jesper quiets down immediately and tries his best to evade the boss’s glare. Kaz’s gaze then shifts towards (Y/N) and she perks up at the way his eyes harden even further in annoyance. He’s told her a million times to drop that ‘ridiculously stupid’ nickname and she’s decided she never will, not when it drives him to this point of exasperation.
(She’s a thrill chaser, you see. That’s what happens when you’ve seen just about everything and lived twice as much; few things get your heart pumping. And getting on Kaz’s nerves? That’s always exciting. (Y/N) never knows what to expect of him. The Bastard of the Barrel is unpredictable in a way that’s just delightful.)
“If you call me that one more time—”
“What are you gonna do? You can’t possibly try to hurt me. Best friends don’t do that to each other,” she mocks.
His eyebrow twitches, her grin stretches.
Oh, she’s going to have a field day with this one.
It’s obvious that Kaz knows he’s not winning this discussion because he walks forward, snatches the revised contracts and makes his way back to where he came from.
“Get those done before tomorrow afternoon.”
Boring. She was expecting more banter.
(Y/N) turns around to watch him leave, unable to stop herself from throwing a sarcastic, “Sure thing, bestie.” She does her best to sweeten the last word in a way that she knows will infuriate Kaz.
He freezes.
Bingo.
Even from afar, (Y/N) can see the way he tightens the grip on his cane. She’s thoroughly disappointed when he doesn’t throw a dagger her way. That would’ve been exciting. He takes another route, one she should’ve seen coming.
“I’ve got seven more files that need to be corrected. Collect them when you’re done with those.”
The corner of her lips tugs upwards slightly. There’s something thrilling about playing this game with Kaz, of seeing how much one of them can push before the other yields. He’s skilled and she enjoys the competition.
She ignores his order, “Goodnight, Kazzy.”
He slams the door on his way out, the only visible sign that she managed to get on his nerves. That’s mildly entertaining. Causing even the slightest slip of Kaz’s control over his temper is a success in her books.
“You’re out of your mind,” Jesper informs her.
She raises her glass of whisky at him and winks.
And that’s how it begins, as a joke. (Y/N) refers to Kaz as her best friend on every given chance. His reactions never disappoint.
There’s a lot of death threats;
(“Don’t mind him, bestie here is always grumpy.”
Clenched jaw, an exasperated sigh. “I will murder you.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Kazzy.”
There’s a knife thrown her way. (Y/N) catches it with ease, whistling good-naturedly. She smirks when she catches the look of annoyance in Kaz’s face.)
and a lot of not so kind words thrown her way.
(“I get special best friend privileges, right?”
“You get tolerated,” Kaz mutters, “barely.”
“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Now tell me you love me.”
There’s that Brekker glare, one that would send anyone to an early grave. (Y/N) just smiles sweetly.
“Get out.”
“Whatever makes you happy, best friend.”
She cackles as she closes the door behind her, the curses Kaz is sending her way loud enough for her to hear.)
All in all, (Y/N) is as happy as can be. Having the time of her life, really. It’s not often that she finds something that makes Kaz fume. He plays the game too, of course. He has her going over financial documents and legal contracts on her free time, knowing just how much she hates the bureaucracy, and he gives her the household chores she despises the most. Still, (Y/N) doesn’t complain. She does everything with a smug smile on her face. The annoyance that flashes through Kaz’s face makes it all worth it.
The bracelet isn’t something she plans for, it really isn’t, but the Saints place the opportunity right in front of her and who is she but a mere mortal that must obey the signs evidently laid by otherworldly deities (or whatever bullshit those religious fanatics preach).
(Y/N) inspects the wristlets in her hand. They’re black and rough, made of broken-down nets that fishermen dispose of near the pier when the material has worn down beyond repair and is no longer useful. The little girl who had sold it to her couldn’t have been older than seven, and yet the design was more than decent. (Y/N) had offered three kruge for it, much more than it was worth. The child had looked delighted, had thanked her profusely as she’d placed the coins inside her worn-down shoes.
Oh, (Y/N) cannot wait to see Kaz’s face.
“What’s that?” Jesper asks as she meets up with him, eying the bracelets with a gleam of interest. He twirls his guns absentmindedly, missing the way some of the fishermen glance at him with distrust.
“Oh, you know, just some matching bracelets for me and my best friend.”
Jesper snickers, shaking his head and proceeding to let out a low whistle.
“This might be his breaking point.”
“Wouldn’t that be delightful.”
“You’re insane, Marbles.”
She gives him a wicked smile accompanied by a wink. She’s about to retort when she catches sight of a shadow on the corner of her eye. She recognizes it immediately as her target. Shopping, as fun as it had been, wasn’t the reason she and Jesper were waiting by the pier. They’ve got orders. She has people to torture and interrogate and dispose of— preferably in a quiet manner —and Jesper is Kaz’s way of making sure she’s got her back covered. (Not that she needs backup, but whatever, she has tried arguing with Kaz about it and it’s the one thing he won’t relent on, the one matter she’s accepted she won't ever win. Kaz doesn't play when it comes to her safety.).
“If you’re kind enough to hold these for me,” she places the bracelets on Jesper’s unoccupied hand, “I’ll be back before you know it.”
They make it back to the Slat before sunrise. (Y/N) had been quick and efficient, as she always was, and Jesper had been a quiet and solid shadow, as he always was.
“I assume it all went according to plan,” the Bastard asks when he hears their steps coming into his office. It’s late, or rather extremely early in the morning, and yet (Y/N) isn’t surprised by Kaz’s presence. He rarely sleeps.
“It went without a hitch, boss,” Jesper responds, resting against the doorframe.
(Y/N) hesitates for a split second, her memory providing a brief flashback to the interrogation she’d done, to three little words the man had let slip out: they’re coming for you.
A warning or maybe a promise.
Thrilling, either way. It wasn’t often that she was verbally threatened.
At the time, she’d dismissed the words, too filled with bloodlust to pay them any mind, but now, with a clear mind and a steady heartbeat, she suddenly remembers her face plastered on paper all over Ketterdam and wonders if the words might be related to the bounty on her head.
Oh, she hopes so. That would prove to be fun.
They’re coming for you. Good. Let them try.
She nods her head in agreement with Jesper’s words. Kaz nods in approval and then jerks his chin Jesper’s way, a clear sign of dismissal. The Sharpshooter never walks into Kaz’s office after missions like this. He’s an escort, a babysitter of sorts, merely Kaz’s way of making sure she heads his way instead of making a beeline for her bed.
(Y/N) sticks her tongue out at him and Jesper blows her a kiss in response.
Lucky bastard. It’s always her that has to stay up to report. And she hates to admit it, but she’s tired, she can feel the exhaustion begin to creep on her bones and settle in. She has been up for more than thirty-seven hours at this point, and she can feel it catching up to her. Still, she knows that Kaz prefers to hear details when the information is fresh on her mind, when she can provide as much detail as possible, so she pushes through for him. She just has to wait a little while longer before crawling into her bed and passing out for the next twelve hours.
“Marbles comes bearing gifts by the way,” is the last thing the Sharpshooters says before exiting.
A smirk takes over her features, sleep, exhaustion and the new information briefly forgotten.
Kaz is going to hate it.
Lovely.
Kaz seems to sense, probably by the wicked amusement on her face, that whatever it is it’s not something he’s going to enjoy. His face twists into a scowl.
“Out with it, then.”
She pulls out the dark bracelet from her pocket as she walks towards Kaz, dangling it in front of his face when she’s close enough.
Jesper had handed them back on the way home, tossing them over as soon as she’d wiped the blood off her hands. He hadn’t said a word, but (Y/N) knew that the action had meant to snap her out of the weird haze that clouded her mind after every mission, where adrenaline still coursed through her body and all she could think about was bloodshed, fingers itching to kill and maim and fight.
(It was a thing, the haze. When taking lives there was nothing but calmness and bloodthirst, the restlessness that always lingered beneath her skin subsiding as soon as a weapon was placed in her hand and orders were given. And as soon as the mission was done, as soon as the target was neutralized and she’d efficiently fulfilled her orders, fogginess followed. Her mind became clouded, as if somewhat trapped in a loop of violence, every nerve on edge and ready for any threat to emerge.
She was brought up as a killing machine, a child soldier, the best out of all the assassins produced by the Silent Blades, her father’s pride. She was ruthless, wretched, or at least those had been the words used to describe her when she’d been a child. She supposed the dissociative state she slipped into was normal when considering her upbringing, some sort of psychological shield that kept her from going insane.
She never spoke about it, but the Crows somehow knew. They often eased her out of it, knowing full well that when trapped in that state she had not an ounce of thought and only muscle memory to rely on, which made her infinitely more lethal.)
Jesper’s actions had worked like a charm. With something else to do with her hands, the fogginess had ruptured. She’d absentmindedly tied one of the bracelets on her own wrist, fingers playing with the edges of the other.
It’s that bracelet, the one on her arm, that Kaz glances at now. It’s brief, but for a split second the scowl etched on his face softens and something that she can’t quite catch passes through his eyes. It’s gone before (Y/N) can even begin to process it.
“Best friends have to have matching bracelets, don’t they?” And if she wonders about it later, she’ll blame it on the exhaustion, but the words come out softer than she intends them to. A jest, but not any less truthful.
Kaz’s face morphs and she gets a fleeting glimpse at that flicker in his eyes again. His scowl melts into something a tad bit gentler, the look contrasted by the aggressiveness with which he snatches the bracelet from her hand, “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He means that and his tone has enough bite to make her cackle.
Amusing.
Placing her hands on her back pockets and shrugging, she responds, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Kaz snorts, “Go take a bath.” He dismisses her, turning around and making his way to his desk, “Reports can wait until you don’t look half dead.”
That’s unexpected.
(Y/N) raises her eyebrows, “You’re being nice.” It isn’t often that Kaz forgoes a report after a mission. He might’ve been more touched by the gift than he’s letting on.
“It’s for my own sake,” he retorts, not turning around, “you just stink and it’s making me nauseous.”
She does have a lingering smell of blood and sea water.
“Everything in this damned place stinks,” she responds. I know you’re lying, she’s saying, I know you’re being kind.
“Get out.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” (Y/N) mocks, walking out of his office.
She sleeps a full day after that, everyone knowing better than to bother her unless they want to lose to their head, and when she reports to Kaz the next morning the three words she’d heard from the man slip her mind. (Y/N) doesn’t remember them until a few weeks later when she’s tied to the ceiling by her wrists, face bleeding.
Now, she must admit, she’s impressed. No one had ever tried kidnapping before. There’d been more attempts on her life than she could even count; stabs resulting in blood being shed, never one drop of hers, poison that she had either swallowed down like a champ or identified before a single lick of it touched her tongue, because being raised an assassin meant she’d been trained in the art of toxins and she’d built up tolerance to pretty much every substance in existence, and that one time they’d tried to shot at her, which only resulted in (Y/N) stealing Jesper’s gun and placing a bullet right between the perpetrator’s eyebrows. All in good fun. Kidnapping was new, but only because those who had attempted on her life had never tried joining forces, all of them wishing to keep the financial reward for themselves.
Torturing, that was new, too.
She could endure, of course she could, she’d been trained for this. That did not mean she’d missed it.
The poster had stated she was wanted dead or alive and it was clear that the man in front of her wanted to take his time. It was personal, she could tell by the brunt of his hits and the delicate precision of his cuts. Had she been anyone else, she would’ve been begging for it to stop, but (Y/N) was a Silent Blade, even if she’d left the organization and that life behind, and she would never break.
The only reason she was in this situation was because the assailants had gotten the upper hand. They’d used one of (Y/N)’s street urchins— a little girl with piggy tails and two missing teeth, one of the ones who gathered information for (Y/N) and traded it for food and shelter —as leverage. And time had apparently made her soft because she’d hesitated. The brief second of doubt had been everything they’d needed.
Them subduing her didn’t mean she’d gone down without a fight. There’d been five of them in the beginning. Only three remained. She’d plucked one guy’s eye out, going deep enough to sever the optic nerve and cause brain damage, and she’d ripped the other’s ear with her teeth before slitting his throat. She’d managed to stab one of the three men remaining with a dagger before being injected with some unknown serum. It hadn’t knocked her out, not the way it was supposed to if the incredulous look on her kidnapper’s face was any indication, but it had drugged her enough to allow them to overpower her.
And now here she was, slowly bleeding out.
“I intent on handing your corpse to them and claiming the reward.” He’s been quiet for so long that (Y/N) had almost forgotten his presence. She doesn’t raise her head, only looks up. It’s hard to do so when her right eye is swollen shut. “But they never specified the conditions it had to be in.”
The man has his back towards her, fingers running through a box of tools. He’s used almost all of them on her by this point. Amateur. A skilled torturer knows to go slow, to drag it out, to choose a weapon and stick to it until the person is weeping and screaming.
“It was my brother that you killed.”
That sparks her interest, a smirk taking over her bloodied lips. She looks at him, dead in the eye.
“Which one?” she taunts.
The sound of her voice, still strong despite the blood loss, startles him. He freezes for a split second, hand over a wooden baseball bat.
“What?”
She snickers, blood dripping into the floor. “I’ve killed a lot of men, darling.” The way he seethes, fury filling his features, amuses her. “So which one was your brother?”
“You had him swallow his own testicles.”
“Oh, him,” she nods her head in appreciation. “Can’t say I regret it.”
Now he’s fuming, hand shaking so badly he almost loses the grip on the bat. If (Y/N) looks close enough she can see the resemblance. Same brown hair, same nose, same crazy look in their eyes.
“I’ll make you regret it.”
“You can certainly try,” she concedes mockingly. Because, honestly, there’s nothing he can do to her that she hasn’t already withstood.
There’s a raging roar and then a burst of pain. A hit to her abdomen, which no doubt bruised a rib, and then two to her back. But it’s okay, she thinks to herself as she wheezes and coughs, trying to regain air in her lungs, she knows how to play this game and how to win it. Keep him talking, keep him angry, let him think he has the upper hand, keep him from noticing how she’s preparing to break free.
“I wonder…” he murmurs, bat dragging behind him. “You’re not particularly remarkable.” She scoffs as he begins circling her, a tactic supposed to drive the prisoner into panic at the lack of vision of their assailant. Her heart doesn’t stutter. She’s trained to identify people and objects by sound not sight. She knows precisely where he is, even if she can’t see him. “So, what makes you interesting enough for the Bastard to keep so close?”
She grins, feral and with bloodstained teeth.
“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”
His face does not change but his step falters. “You cannot believe me stupid enough to fall for that.”
“You were stupid enough to tie my wrists with handcuffs,” is all she replies before dislocating her own thumbs and releasing herself from the shackles.
She hits the floor hard, body swaying for a second. Her hands are numb, nerve endings frayed. It hits her, now that she has to keep herself outfight, just how much blood she’s lost. The edges of her vision blur.
There’s a cut on her thigh, it bleeds heavily. Her back is all flayed skin. Breathing is hard.
It doesn’t matter. She only needs four fingers and half a mind to hold and use a dagger. She shakes the dizziness off.
He comes at her, but she’s expecting that. Sidestepping him is easy, kicking him in the back as he passes by even more so.
“You’re not much without your friends and a syringe full of drugs, are you?” she stumbles a little as she taunts him. Time is not on her side, she knows this. He’s cut deep in her arms and legs, no major artery touched, but with precision to give her a slow and prolonged death. She’s been steadily bleeding for hours.
(Y/N) has to end this. Soon.
He comes for her again, and she dodges, punching him right in the gut. He feigns left and she moves away, noticing too late the fist that impacts with the right side of her face. Despite the pain, she manages to stomp his toes and slam her knee against his balls.
That does it.
A high whimper leaves his mouth and as he struggles for air, she backs up. Keeping her eyes on him, her right arm reaches back to the toolbox. She knows what she’s grasped as soon as her fingers graze it.
“Say hi to your brother for me.”
The scalpel lodges itself right on his carotid artery.
“Nice,” she mumbles in delirium as she hears him choke to death. It’d been a majestic throw.
The adrenaline is gone in a second. (Y/N) stumbles backwards, barely aware of all the tools scattering around in the floor. She lets herself rest against the wall, slowly sitting down on the floor.
She’s going to die.
It doesn’t matter that she’s managed to get rid of that poor excuse of a man. She’s too injured. She knows.
(Y/N) isn’t scared. She’s tangled with Death for a long time, and as cold begins to creep in and the edges of her vision blacken, it feels like welcoming an old friend. It feels like getting what she has always had coming for her.
The tips of her fingers begin to tingle, her body’s desperate effort at keeping her heart pumping. Her ears are ringing, hard enough that when shouts begin all that she can hear are muffled sounds.
Then someone’s touching her face. She greets the warmth.
“Fuck,” she hears as she tumbles forward, her forehead landing on a collarbone. Jesper grasps the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. At least, she thinks it’s him. Her brain feels mushy, but her nose has never failed her, and it smells like gunpowder and mint.
She’s laid down on the ground gently, probably to inspect her injuries before moving her.
“You’re going to be okay,” the Sharpshooter reassures her, but his voice is trembling. He’s scared. She must look worse than she feels, and she feels like she’s been attacked by a group of Heartrenders.
She wants to speak, to tell him it’s okay, but opening her mouth feels like an impossible task.
“Save your energy.” That’s Kaz. His voice is steady, but she can feel the underlying tension, the worry in his words. “You are not dying tonight.” And he says it with so much conviction, like he would hold her soul with his own hands to keep it anchored to her body, like he would keep her heart beating with pure willpower.
Her eyes look for him, but she catches sight of something else entirely.
“You’re wearing it.”
She must make no sense, words slurred, but Kaz understands. His whispered words are the last thing she hears before slipping out of consciousness.
“How couldn’t I?”
Then there’s nothing. She loses track of time. She comes back to her body from time to time, able to hear words but incapable of pinpointing the speaker. She’s floating, but there’s pain and aching.
“…too much blood, I don’t know…”
“…keep her alive.”
“I am trying!”
“Don’t try, do it.”
“…punctured lung, broken ribs…”
“…don’t know how she’s still alive.”
When she comes to the first thing that she feels is blinding pain. Everything hurts. Her muscles complain as she sits up. She clenches her jaw to keep the tears at bay. The worst is already over, she will not cry.
“Don’t move,” (Y/N) freezes at the command, her head snapping towards the voice. “Nina stitched you back together, I doubt she would be very happy to see all her hard work ruined.”
She gently eases herself back on the bed, fingertips running over her bandaged stomach. She can feel the edges of the stitches poking through it. It must’ve been bad, then, if she required stitches to keep the wound together. Usually, she’s a fast healer, a result of all the training she’d gone through.
“How long?” Her voice is raspy after not being used. Her throat hurts, which might be related to the way she was choked to the verge of unconsciousness several times while held hostage.
“Four nights.”
Bad then.
(Y/N) can feel Kaz’s eyes on her, assessing. She meets his stare, and it’s when she’s looking at him that a vague memory comes back.
Her eyes drift down to his wrist.
The twin bracelet to her own, the one she keeps tightly wrapped around her wrist, as if part of her own skin, greets her.
“You are wearing it.”
Kaz frowns in confusion, until he follows her line of sight. He looks away, hand clenching and unclenching over the head of his cane.
“Even after almost dying you’re still insufferable,” he responds.
But when he looks back at her, (Y/N) can see everything in his eyes.
How could I not, he’d said, and he’d meant it. If friendship was something that could bloom in a wretched place like Ketterdam, Kaz was her best friend and she was his, even if they’d never discussed it, even if they would never admit it. You’re the steady order to my unrelenting chaos, she thought to herself, someone I would follow to the end of the world.
He nods, as if reading her mind and agreeing with her.
“Rest.” That’s an order, one she has no intention of disobeying.
“Sure thing,” she responds as Kaz makes his way towards the door, “bestie.”
(Y/N) can feel the amusement in his words, “Absolutely insufferable.”
She smirks, toying with the ends of the bracelet’s strings.
(Y/N) never takes it off. Neither does Kaz.
#six of crows imagine#six of crows#shadow and bone#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x#kaz brekker x imagine#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker x bestfriend!reader#kaz brekker x y/n#kaz brekker x fem!reader#jesper fahey#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey x platonic!reader#shadow and bone imagine#grishaverse#happyyyandcrazyyy writing#shadow and bone fanfic#six of crows fanfic#fanfic#kaz x reader#kaz x you#kaz x y/n#six of crows fic#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone fanfiction#six of crows fanfiction
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your last animagus fic was so sweet! it even made some ideas popped in my mind. i was thinking about feisty (gn) reader being a crow animagus accompanying barty into his mischief, which could be scaring the skittles or pranking people in general. if you could write this, it would be wonderful 💞
(fun fact: crows can mimic sounds such as ambience noise or even human voice, this is so amazing and a bit scary, imagine encounter one while you walk in the woods AAAAAKXNSM!!! i love them so much, thx for reading me yapp xx)
hi lovely<33 thank YOU for yapping to me, i find it very endearing and entertaining 🤲 people who are passionate about what they love>>>>
now, i personally don't think i would be able to write this as a full-length fic, as pranking and mischief is not reallyyyy within my toolbox BUT this is very cute so i'm giving you some belated headcanons 🫂 if anyone's able/willing to write a longer version, please do share with the class and tag me!!
i present to you my thoughts of crow!animagus!reader x barty:
i imagine you become an animagus before you and barty get together
(because if you wanted to do it while the two of you were friends/dating he would INSIST on doing the transformation process with you)
and i think deciding when your relationship is at the point where you can/should divulge that part of yourself would be difficult to pinpoint
so what happens is that you would be laying on the floor beside each other in the astronomy tower, stargazing together. a date of sorts, in the way every second you spend with barty somehow feels like a date as he is fully, wholly dedicated to you.
the later it got, the more you two would switch between genuinely trying to find and remember constellations and just goofing around
those type of late night conversations where you seem to get to know someone 100x more in just a few hours than you otherwise could over the spans of months
asking each other increasingly deep questions
"tell me something about you no one else knows"
when else would you get the perfect opportunity to reveal your animagus status to your boyfriend?
stupidly, you feared his reaction. would he be upset with you hiding it for so long? would he think your animagus form was silly? would he look at you differently?
but when i tell you this man shrieked with excitement
"show me, show me, show me"
when you turn into a crow and fly around him in circles, he genuinely would jump up excitedly and twirl in the same direction you're flying so that his eyes never have to leave your form, laughing and screaming
the only thing on his mind would be how spectacular and remarkable you are, excitement and love filling any space that the hostility you feared might have fostered
not to mention; "that's bloody badass, treasure"
you would land carefully on his shoulder and barty would scoop you up close to his body, almost squishing you and making you squeak
"we're gonna have to perfect the art of cuddling with crows," he would say gravely
barty, the secret academic weapon and swot that he is, would SO do his due diligence with research immediately upon the discovery
we're talking library trips, tomes and scrolls purchases, books upon books of muggle literature on crows and wizard literature on animagi that he chases through faster than you could imagine
when he learns of crows being able to mimic noises, including human voices, his mind floods with ideas
"oh, we are going to have fun baby"
that's how you start accompanying him into his many tirades and mischief
most of the time it is just as a companion, the crow sitting on his shoulder as he runs around the castle wreaking havoc
it adds to barty's general intimidating aura and the reputation that just barely proceeds him — the crazy guy with the facial piercings, acid green streaks in his hair, punkish style, chokers and a volatile wand now also has a crow with him everywhere? hell no, people steer clear of him
it doesn't help that many students swear he talks to the crow and seems to hold an entire conversation with it, based solely on its body language and occasional caws
"i swear to bloody merlin, the crow looked at me when i spoke badly of junior. it's like it understood, some human-like capabilities or what not, fucking scary."
it doesn't take long before you become a more active partner in his shenanigans, though
you will call out people's names to get them to enter a room barty needs them in (because let's be real, if barty called for them, nobody would be stupid enough to fall for it and go to him)
you deliver letters and packages for him, you caw behind first years so that they jump in fear, you borrow people's clips and rings and pens
poor regulus and evan get the most shit from you among the skittles, while dorcas finds the most amount of entertainment through it
i imagine it's through your animagus form that the skittles learn that when pandora talks to animals she actually does understand them -> you two have lengthy conversations, much to everyone's eventual chagrin
and while the skittles of course all learn you're an animagus, no one else in the castle does
(though i imagine the marauders have their strong suspicions from early on)
barty was already showering you in gifts — "my father's outrages amounts of money should be put to good" — but now he has taken it upon himself to get you anything and everything shiny he sees
"you're a literal crow and i'm your dutiful partner. i have to contribute to the nest."
(mind you, this would likely be a thing even before he ever sees you seek out something shiny while in animagus form; he just assumes)
ironically, barty starts behaving like a crow himself in how he seeks out shiny trinkets for you
and while you try and tell him you don't have those instincts when outside of your animagus form... you actually really do and you revel in the love and attention
after a while, i do believe he would attempt to become an animagus too
honestly, he would begin getting on your case about it every single day from finding out. same way he would immediately learn his s/o's native language imo — he needs to be included.
especially if regulus is a cat animagus in this universe, because his two favourite people simply cannot have something in common that he is excluded from. this man is the epitome of fomo
my default animagus form for barty is a raccoon, but i think he would also make a lot of fun as a bat animagus which fits perfect with you as a crow
can you imagine, just you two flying around on school grounds and later on in your neighbourhood when you move in together?
the crow and the bat<3(shit crazy boy who loves them)
#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#barty crouch#barty#barty crouch junior x reader#barty crouch junior x you#barty crouch junior x y/n#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#barty crouch jr x y/n#barty x reader#barty x you#barty x y/n#barty crouch jr x animagus!reader#barty crouch jr x crow!animagus!reader#animagus!reader#crow!animagus!reader#crow animagus!reader#barty crouch jr fic#barty crouch jr fanfic#barty crouch jr fluff#barty crouch jr headcanon#barty crouch jr headcanons#barty crouch jr hc#barty crouch jr hcs#barty crouch jr imagine#barty crouch jr reader insert#barty crouch jr self insert#x reader#reader insert
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