#grishaverse kaz oneshot

[heliads]

soulmate! kaz brekker x reader please! names on the wrist (kaz r not kaz b). reader is a childhood friend and is a grisha under contract of servitude (tailor). they meet secretly and one night kaz says he is going on a mission to fjerda and when he returns he will buy his contract. at the end of CK he actually does this and takes her to the slat and they have a hand holding/light kiss on the forehead moment where they finally say they accept each other as soulmateI love your work, darling! ♡

ty! and excellent request, man does soulmates!kaz always hit a little different

masterlist

Soulmates were not meant for a place like this. Honestly, sometimes it seems more like some sort of cosmic accident, that of all the places to experience a meant to be, a soul universally joined to you and you alone, Ketterdam should not be it. Fjerda, now, that makes sense for soulmates. They already cling to enough traditions that magical superstition just makes sense. Even Ravka, Ravka the war-torn legend, that works. 

But your home? Yours is a city of broken boys and lonely girls, blood running in the streets and skin worn too thin from all the times people pretended it was too thick. Kerch is not a country that prides itself on anything but profit. The Barrel, then– scum of the earth, forgotten by the Saints, blind to anything but greed– this is not a place that love lasts. Yet everyone here has a soulmate, the same as everyone else on every corner of the world. Make that make sense to anyone with a working brain.

Sometimes you almost think that the soulmates trend should have skipped over your city. Maybe that would be some sort of divine penance for all the wrongdoing your fellow citizens commit with glee. It would take a sign that big to convince anyone to lay down their guns and knives and try to even think about peace.

It doesn’t come, though, that divine intervention. Instead, you all have soulmates, and you all wager their lives like another round at Makker’s Wheel. You will go through your life trying to find the one person who makes you whole, and regardless of whether you find them or not, it will never be enough. The Barrel always wants more, and if it’s your city, then you do, too.

You don’t have far to look, though. Truth be told, you already found your soulmate quite a long time ago. That’s what you think, at least. In reality, your sainted aspirations are just that– dreams, hopes, an estimation that you made when you were young and have never dared to actually challenge or prove correct.

In your defense, it is almost impossible for you to tell for certain. Soulmates are identified one way and one way only:  a name written across your wrist in the print of your soulmate. You’ve stared at your own wrist enough to commit the inked black to memory:  Kaz Rietveld, scrawled in hurried print that still took the time to be solid and secure. There is no room for additional flourishes nor swooping script, just the name and nothing else.

That’s just like Kaz, too. Ruthless, determined Kaz. He runs through this life just like his name wraps around your veins. He’ll do what he pleases and take what he wants. If what he wants is for you to live the rest of your life in mystery, then, well, that’s just fine by him.

Maybe Kaz doesn’t know at all. The problem with the Kaz on your wrist versus the Kaz you know in real life is the issue of his last name. Kaz Brekker is the boy who runs the Barrel. Kaz Rietveld is the one who is damned to you forever. There is no guarantee that they are the same, but oh, how you wish they were.

You’ve known Kaz for half as long as you’ve known yourself. You met Kaz about a year or so after the flareup of the Queen’s Lady Plague. By then, he’d already started the process of breaking down his fragile pieces and rebuilding them back up to become Dirtyhands, the killer of this city.

You were newly arrived in Ketterdam, having the misfortune to walk into one of the gilded traps of the many pleasure houses of the West Stave. You weren’t indentured for your body, thank Ghezen, only for your hands. You’re a Tailor, one of the rare Grisha with a knack for changing the appearances of others rather than conjuring up swarms of fire or water. 

You have a room in the House of the Blue Iris, and customers are sent up to you on the regular. They want darker hair, then lighter; bigger eyes, then smaller; shrinking skeletons and blooming skin. All this you can do with some effort, but it’s gotten easier over the years, your gift. It had to improve, of course. If it didn’t, your employers would start wanting you for other purposes, and that you would avoid more than anything.

As if you have a choice, though, when it really comes down to it. Your contract of servitude seems to stretch on until forever, and increases by the day. The Blue Iris uses every single excuse to lengthen your contract that they can. No matter how much money you earn, how many clients walk away happy, you’ll never be done. Not really.

Kaz met you when you were first roped into the Iris. He was scrounging around for someone to con, and first tried his tricks on you. It didn’t work, but instead of getting violent, he was just curious. Nobody saw through him like that, he said. That means he should try harder, you claimed.

It was as good as an insult to any self-respecting thief in the Barrel, which was why the two of you became immediate allies. Even after Kaz grew into Dirtyhands, broken-crowned king incarnate of this godless city and you stayed just you, still in that room in the Iris, he never let you go. Not really.

Some part of you wonders if it’s because he knew all along. See, you can never confirm whether or not he’s your soulmate because Kaz will never let anyone know at all. His gloves cover his wrists with a good few inches of black leather to spare, so there’s no chance of catching a glimpse of your name written there on his skin. He’s certainly never told you that you would ever be his soulmate.

Then again, it would be just like Kaz to keep it from you. He doesn’t like weaknesses, the Brekker boy, even when everyone claims to the stars and back that soulmates only help you find fulfillment in your life, not drag you away from it. Kaz likes being alone. His friends are exceptions, not proof, that he would ever conform to such a traitorous belief that he would need people in his life.

Likewise, he’ll never know for certain that you’re his soulmate unless you gave up the charade and asked him outright. Anyone with a decent bottle of concealer and smudgeproof black pen can pretend to be someone’s soulmate, and workers of the West Stave’s pleasure houses are often unfairly targeted in the hopes of gaining some free sessions. You’ve been tailoring your soulmate’s name off of your wrist for years now, longer than you’ve ever known Kaz.

Thus, the two of you are at an impossible stalemate. Neither of you will risk asking, because the cost of being wrong is far too high. Kaz would never surrender his guard long enough to include a soulmate in his life as more than a friend. You certainly have no space in your contract to include someone made for you. Neither of you can see the name of the other’s soulmate, so you’ll go on dancing around the issue for the rest of your lives.

It bothers you sometimes to think that Kaz would rather die than tell you. If he was your soulmate, then he’d have your full name there, first and last correct. Maybe the rumors are true and he never takes off his gloves even to speak, maybe his arms are so burned that the skin has melted away and he never saw the name in his life. Regardless of his innocence, true or not, he keeps his silence. You respect him enough to do the same.

Yet when Kaz shows up at your room in the middle of the night, you can’t shake the feeling that he knows something. He’s certainly nervous enough to indicate such a truth; he shifts from leg to leg, constantly moving as if he’s ready to run at any moment. Your clients are done for the present moment, and you were in the middle of trying to regain at least some energy for the next one. You love being a Grisha and using your gifts, but Saints, if it doesn’t kill you to be so drained day in and day out. Everyone wants more than you have, but if you let them down, the consequences are unthinkable.

Kaz knocks on your window; you know it’s him before you turn. Kaz has a way of making himself known, from anything to the distinctive sound of his cane accompanying his footsteps to the very pattern of his breathing from across the room. You’d know him anywhere, in death, in life, in hapless, never-ending purgatory.

You rise to unlock your window, but he lingers there still on the other side of the sash. Cocking one brow, you ask him why he hasn’t yet come in. “Last time I checked, you’ve never had a problem with invading my personal space. What’s changed?”

Kaz exhales sharply, but stays there on the fire escape, as if scared to give himself too much room. “I’m leaving. Tomorrow, early. No one can know.”

You frown. “Then why are you telling me? Anyone could be listening.”

Kaz seems to have reached that same conclusion several times before, but he stays regardless. “It’s a job. A good one. Thirty million kruge.”

You blow out a low breath. “Ghezen’s hand, that’s a lot of money. Still doesn’t explain why you’re breaking your typical pre-job oath of secrecy and telling me, though.”

Kaz makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat. “You’re infuriating.”

“Of course I am,” you smile, “that’s why you spend time with me, isn’t it?”

There’s a pause, and then Kaz continues. “I’ll buy your contract when we’re done.”

This you weren’t expecting. “What?” You gasp, almost thinking that you heard him wrong.

Kaz isn’t one to joke around on serious matters, though, and he repeats himself again. “I’ll buy your contract from the Blue Iris. Once we finish the job and we get our money. You can be one of my Dregs.” His expression softens, eyes growing wide with the slightest tint of disbelief. “That is, if you’d want to.”

You laugh quietly. “Kaz, it would be an honor to join your gang.”

Something almost like a smile touches his lips. “There’s no honor among thieves, Y/N.”

“With you, there would be,” you answer.

Kaz shakes his head. “I’m certainly not honorable. I would have thought all this time would have taught you that.”

You ponder that for a moment. “If you’re not honorable, why would you go to the trouble of buying me out?”

Kaz looks away, and has to all but drag his eyes back to you again. Even still, it seems to take everything in him to hold your gaze. “I am selfish, actually. Very. I’m doing this because– because–” 

His voice breaks off, and it takes at least a minute for him to recover. When he speaks at last, the syllables are choked out with great force. “Is it true? The name on your wrist, is it mine?”

Your eyes widen. “Yes,” you say at last, although you hadn’t been expecting this. Part of you thought the two of you would avoid the soulmates topic forever. Maybe it would be better that way.

Kaz’s brow furrows. “Are you sure? The last name, it says Brekker?”

It’s a trick. You’d know it even if it weren’t for the fact that Brekker isn’t the name on your wrist, that Kaz has always needed to protect himself first and trust anyone second. His brow furrows the way it does when he tries to pull a con over someone. You’ve been with him long enough to learn his ticks, and you know them now by heart.

So, you shake your head and lay your heart bare. “No,” you whisper, “it says Kaz Rietveld.”

Hearing that name seems to shake Kaz to the core. “How did you know it was me?”

You chuckle. “There are only so many boys named Kaz in this city. I mean, there are thousands of Jacks and Toms and Asbjørns, but I’ve only met one Kaz. You.”

Kaz nods slowly, accepting this. “I’ve never told anyone Rietveld was my last name,” he murmurs, half to himself, “not even you.”

His eyes seem to fix on your wrist, so you will the Tailoring away, revealing his name inked on your wrist in his same spider-block font. Kaz nods once, accepting this, then pulls off one glove on his hand. He holds it close to his chest for a moment, daring himself to do this, then gives in and shows it to you. There, written so perfectly below his hand that you almost believe you had written it yourself that very moment:  Y/N L/N.

Kaz nods mechanically. “We can’t tell anyone, of course. My enemies would go mad if they knew. Still, maybe after this–”

His voice trails off, but you know what he meant. “Maybe we can explore what that means for us,” you reply softly.

Kaz’s head jerks up and down once in a marionette’s version of a nod. “We’ll see.”

A sound in the hall outside makes him startle, and he’s tugging the glove back on in a second. “Wait for me,” he says, then disappears down the fire escape again.

Your wrist is tailored over in a second, but that doesn’t stop your head from churning, your heart from pounding. After all this time, it’s true. Kaz is your soulmate, and you are his. What a world.

After that, waiting feels like agony. You hear about the disaster with the Ferolind in Ketterdam’s docks, but from the scant news you can pick up, Kaz and his crew managed to make it to the water without getting caught by rivals. All you can do is hope that they’ll manage to complete whatever impossible task waits for them during this job. Thirty million kruge is no small fee, to be sure. If it was so serious that Kaz would come to you first, even risk telling you about the job to know if you were his soulmate, the odds of dying must be high.

You know that rebellions to shake the world rarely come about quickly, but Saints, if you didn’t wish Fate would hurry itself up. You want to see Kaz again, you want to be sure that you weren’t imagining all of that moonlit conversation.

And, in time, he comes back. It takes longer than you expected. There was a terrible period of a week or two in which you knew he was back in town but he still wasn’t at your door. There were rumors that he had to take down a certain Jan van Eck as well as Pekka Rollins. Still, you refuse to give up hope, and your aspirations are rewarded.

Your employer knocks on your door, an angry sound. When you open the door, they hold up a contract, newly signed over to one Kaz Brekker. You’re told to gather your things in a far shorter period of time than anyone could ever manage, but you do so with great joy. For once, you’re living on your own terms, and it is fantastic.

Kaz is waiting for you in the streets outside. He seems changed somehow; a little older, a little more tired. Along with the stories of what he did to take down van Eck, you also heard that he lost a few friends along the way. You offer him a quiet smile, and he does his best to return it. Maybe in time, it will come easier. You can always hope. There is no cost to that.

Kaz saved a room in the Slat, the closest to his office other than his own. You place your bags in the corner and stand there, breathing in the smoky air. The Slat is creaking, half doused in rebel blood, utterly shameless and impractical. You love it to death already.

Kaz closes the door, then slowly walks over to you. An oil lamp burns overhead, giving his dark hair the appearance of a gentle golden halo. That might be the best joke you’ve seen yet. Kaz is no angel, to be sure, nothing near a Saint, but you think you quite like that about him.

He leans over slowly, carefully, and places a kiss on your forehead. It is so light you hardly feel it, but it seems to move both of you like a raging storm.

“Welcome home,” he says at last. For once, Dirtyhands is speaking the truth, and a kind truth at that. You think it might suit him.

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[futurecorps3]

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

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

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

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

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

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

He just hated that feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . °

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚ · • . ° .

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

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

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

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

[bookworm-center]

Kaz Brekker x gender neutral!Reader (oneshot)

Coat Buddies

In which Kaz and Y/n go back and forth sharing a coat and little messages. (Fluff)

Author's Note: yes, I'm well aware there are plenty of these, but I figured I'd try my hand at it. It's also a hold over until I work on "Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender". Enjoy! 🧡 Not related to DatB at all, just a little oneshot I wanted to write. I've also decided that all oneshot author's notes will now be in orange, just because I think it looks cool.

Kaz Brekker has an incredibly nice coat. Warm wool lining, pockets galore, even a secret section where a dagger could perfectly fit. So, naturally, like the thief they are, Y/n decided to steal it. They planned on returning it, of course, so one could consider it merely borrowing. It's not as though they did a job with it on and got his coat torn to bits in the process. There were only a few scratches and maybe one or two tears, if you were really looking.

The next time Kaz wears his coat, (noting how it looked worse for wear right away) he'd found a little crumpled note in his pocket. The words were written in slanted, hurried cursive, ink smudged along the parchment. "Your coat is nice. Unlike you." His lips quirk at the message. It's not untrue, and it's phrased as more of a random observation than an insult. After all, who really expects the bastard of the Barrel to be nice?

Y/n slips on the coat, fingers fumbling over the buttons. Black stitches close the damaged parts of the coat, nearly invisible in the soft cloth. The bloodstains have been washed, like the coat had never been worn in the first place. They shove their hands into their pockets, winding their way through the crowds in the streets. Snow comes down in sheets, the ground two steps away covered with white. Their gloved fingers close over a square of paper. Y/n pulls it out, squinting at the note. It's not their own; the paper is too smooth, the handwriting too neat. "Oh? I'm not the one stealing coats."

"I can't help it. For someone called Dirtyhands, you keep your coat surprisingly clean," reads the next note, tucked between a small tin of jurda and a bar of dark chocolate.

The next note is written on the paper wrapping of a new chocolate bar. "I keep it clean so I can find things. Unlike you, who keeps shoving things into my pockets."

"What can I say? I'm a talented lockpick and thief. I need somewhere to put my stuff. If you don't want me to steal from pigeons, you should have never recruit me to the Dregs." A little smile is scrawled next to the words. Kaz can't help but grin as he carefully pens out his response.

Y/n finds the next note in the special knife pocket, beside the double edged dagger they'd stashed there earlier. "I don't care if you steal things, love. Maybe your next target should be someone with a nice coat, hm?"

"Well that's no fun. After all, these exchanges are the best part of my day."

The back and forth exchange goes on for months. The snowy months give way, melting over the cobblestones, the days becoming as sunny as possible in Ketterdam. This time, when Y/n goes to pull Kaz's coat off the hook, eagerly awaiting a note, it's not there. Kaz is, hands in the pockets of his coat.

"Hey boss." Y/n sheepishly waves. They have no real reason to be nervous. It's not like Kaz knows their the one taking his coat.

"You've been taking my coat." Kaz says with a deadpan expression. Of course he knew.

"Is there a problem with that?" They cross their arms. It's always dangerous to stand up to Kaz Brekker, but Y/n's never been one to stay on safety's side. Kaz shrugs, pulling out a package from behind his desk. It's wrapped in black paper, tied with silver ribbon. "What's this?"

Kaz doesn't respond, only tossing the package to Y/n, who catches it after fumbling. They rip into it with a bit of effort. In the midst of the torn paper, folded and still new, rests a coat. It's identical to Kaz's, only in their size, and orange thread on the cuffs of the sleeves the bright color of jurda. "So you don't keep stealing my coat."

"Thanks." Both teens stand in the silent. Even though both of them are deadly, both broken and torn, they're at peace. Y/n turns to leave when Kaz calls after them.

"Y/n. If you wanted to keep borrowing my coat, I wouldn't be against it." Y/n grins, before nodding and leaving Kaz's office.

[1wishand1thought]

SNEAKY LITTLE FOX

| Kaz Brekker and fem y/n|

Y/n, a secret Crow for all the team but Kaz, finds her boss jerking off in his dorm after she goes to visit him for job matters only.

You can find part 2 here

⚠️ Warnings: obscene words, masturbation.

I apologize in advance for any misspelling/grammatical error🥲 I did proofread it a thousand times before posting it but just in case you find one I'm truly sorry, my main language isn't English. Now let's spice things up a bit bahaha

Kaz Brekker was known for many things as nicknames he has been given. The complete opposite happened with y/n, "the fox", as he once called her.

She was one of the Crows, but no other member of the group knew of her existence, only Kaz knew, part of it was due to the deal they made where she prohibited Kaz to tell anyone else about her.

Kaz was good with it, but he was doubting that feeling now. It's been over a year, and this weird sensation has only gotten bigger, more condescending,  and more... impossible to hold back.

He was 23 years old now, it's been years since Inej left Ketterdam and he was good with it, he knew he wouldn't be able to give her what she deserved anyways. Currently, his mind was foggy with y/n face more than usual, his ears repeated her sarcastic, yet captivating voice. And when it came of her body... ohh.

He has found himself craving for touch as much as he despised skin-to-skin touch.  He has made some progress with it through the years though. He would sit on his desk chair or his bed and would find himself stroking his cock after a long day to get rid of the huge stress.

But what he didn't know, is that y/n was nearby in every one of those moments. She didn't stand there much of course, but it was as if the saints would lead her to see him touching himself just to make her panic. She has caught him doing it several times in the last 5 months. Every time it happened, y/n would leave the second she saw his bare hand grabbing something between his legs,  she would never break his privacy like that.

And, as she never stood over 3 seconds,  she never got the chance of hearing her name leave his mouth. Sometimes as low growls, other times as whimpers, and right now, it was a mix of both.

His mind had a good side beside the terrible one. The bad one was his memories frequently tormenting him, and the good one, was the ability he had to imagine her body like a picture, one he has never seen yet found printed in his mind.

He could imagine how her light brown eyes would look up at his body while his thrusts got faster, going in and out of her, the throbbing sound mixed with the moans echoing in the room. He also imagined how her eyes rolled to the back of her head while she muttered his name, or even better, screamed it.

"Hmmm Kazz!" he imagined her yelling, begging for more, and squirting when she felt his tongue doing magic on her cunt.

He bit his lower lip, his hand wet with his arousal. Shaky, uneven whimpers followed.

A minute later he found himself whimpering, leaving soft moans of pleasure as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

At that moment y/n was heading to check on him, her second weekly visit to see what schemes Kaz had planned for the Crows to work in, or to see if he had settled a specific mission for her, and her only. She was some paces away from the window of his dorm when she heard him calling her name. At first, she didn't get the words right, it wasn't until she got a bit closer that she heard her name being spoken by a voice, his. She wasn't certain of what was going on in there, it sounded... soft... unusual in Kaz's icy voice.

She swallowed hard when she realized it after reaching the window. The dim light of the moon enlightened the dark room. The brighter spot was hitting Kaz's body.

He was holding his erect length, his hand going up and down, touching the pink tip of his dick as he kept breathing heavily. He was calling her, pleasing her in his mind. He was picturing himself touching her skin, her breasts. Licking her nipples as she grabbed his hair asking for more.

"Y/n... Oh ... fuck" he mumbled, a shaky rough whisper loud enough for her to hear at the window.

She froze, she didn't know what to do. She wanted to leave, run and pretend this never happened as she managed to do several times before.

But this time was different, her light feet were glued to the floor, she couldn't move, and the sight was too... pleasant. Like a tower full of Kruger she couldn't stop staring at. That was until he locked eyes with the figure standing at the entry of the window. He recognized her immediately. His eyes took in an intense feeling of embarrassment mixed with lust.

He wasn't Kaz Brekker anymore, he was Dirtyhands now. He didn't stop his hand movement. The environment grew hotter, his cheeks were flushed from the intensity of the moment. A part of him wanted her to look, the other part wanted to run and never have to look into her eyes again due to the embarrassment he felt.

Y/n looked at him in awe, with flushed cheeks as she never had before, and wide eyes as he jerked himself off in front of her. He never stopped doing it, nor did he avoid eye contact with her bewildered big eyes. Instead, his eyes got darker, deeper, and full of desire.

She felt something growing inside her. The heat was evident. Until he came. It wasn't just a growl, he leaned his head backward, his mouth opened and his eyes shut closed. The vein of his neck was marked showing how intense the pleasure was.

"Oh fuuuck" he whimpered, the white cum splashing over his stomach and covering his bare hand. She, on the other hand, was crossing her legs and biting her lower lip as hard as she could to not let out the loud moan she was holding back. All thanks to the(as much as she would like to deny) oddly appealing sight.

He opened his eyes again, now a small amusing grin plastered on his face. He was enjoying her look. Her still shocked face as she swallowed hard, her mind thinking on what to say.

He was still panting, sweaty loose strings of hair fell over his eyes, he took a deep breath as he grabbed a napkin and cleaned his hand covered in cum, and spoke, eyes locked in hers:

"My sneaky little fox, d'you liked the view?" Again, a crooked smile.

She didn't say anything, but deep inside, she knew she'd liked it. Indeed:

It was quite appealing, Brekker.

_____

Part 2 here

Any who, did you like it? Let me know in the comments, this is my first one-shot so if you have any suggestions on how can I improve my writing I'll take them happily 💓

[barrel-crow-n]

Sitting in bed doing nothing as if I don't have a multi chapter fic to cowrite, two flirt!Kaz fics waiting in my notes app, a show canon divergence au where Kaz performs magic to get into Os Alta with the troupe to plan, a dad!Kaz fic where Kaz adopts a little girl off the streets of the Barrel to continue planning, a pre-canon prison fic to start, and a heart-to-heart Kaz&Jesper fic plan to continue working on.

[jahayla-parker]

Dead: Kaz Brekker x Reader

Description: 5.8k wc, for the prompt of "You're supposed to be dead" originally for this request but I went overboard so I separated Kaz's!

Warnings: passive suicidal thoughts (NO action), mentions of death and injuries, trauma references, drinking, grief, loss, etc. and typical SOC/SAB trigger warnings

Maybe in the end, Kaz was meant to be alone.

It would make sense after all.

He certainly deserved to end up alone.

Yet, he must have done something right along the way.

After all, the universe, one of Inej’s saints, or whatever other force allegedly existed, had granted him y/n.

He never thought he’d be with anyone.

Kaz thought he was too far gone, too broken, too cruel, too numb, etc.

He never thought he'd be able to love someone; not after Jordie.

He thought he'd never let himself experience that sentiment ever again; much less express it.

He never thought he'd be able to become the person he now was.

That is until some unknown force brought the wonderfully undeserved presence that was Y/n into his life.

Despite his most aggressive and resistant behavior towards forming anything with her, he did.

Despite his toxic actions and inactions, she stuck around.

It was as if there was nothing that could tear them apart.

Not even Kaz’s phenomenal self-sabotage skills could make her give up on him.

However, at some point, Kaz allowed himself to become naive, ignorant, and lovesick.

In other words, Kaz Rietveld has taken control over the bastard's heart and mind when it came to her.

So much so that he’d allowed himself to fall into the position in which he was now facing.

A situation he swore he’d never find himself in.

Not again, anyways; not after having been there before due to Jordie.

Yet, here he was.

Alone in his chaotic mess of an office.

Drinking whatever Saint-forsaken thing he could find.

He knew he was cutting deep into the Crow Club's profits.

Kaz Brekker’s voice tauntingly scolded him despite Kaz Rietveld’s mind still being in control of his emotional state.

He desperately wished Dirtyhands would take over his mind and heart entirely.

It wouldn’t hurt then; or at least not as much.

He’d sworn to never let anyone get close enough for this to happen.

And yet, it had; she did.

He let her get close to him; he needed her to.

So, his naive Rietveld mentality had convinced the Kaz Brekker mentality he formed to learn to accept it.

Oh, how he wished he could go back and undo that acceptance.

But did he?

Is that really what he wanted?

To undo accepting her into his life?

Sure, he’d not be experiencing an excruciating sense of loss right now.

But was the lack of an excruciating sense of loss worth her absence in his life?

No.

Neither part of him believed that he'd choose anything over her.

Ironically, it didn’t matter.

He’d have to experience her absence one way or the other.

For now, it wasn’t anything he even had a choice in.

She was gone.

He could’ve saved her.

He should’ve saved her.

But he hadn’t.

And now, the Bastard found himself alone again.

For the first time in a long time.

And nothing, and no one, could cure the aching and longing loneliness he felt.

Not his sharpshooter, Jesper.

Not his Wraith, Inej.

Not his heartrender, Nina.

Not his demolitions expert, Wylan.

Not his Fjerdan, Matthias.

Not the countless bottles of alcohol he’d downed.

Not the overpriced scented candle Kaz gifted Y/n days prior that used to make him grin over how excited she would be to light it.

Not now that it sat on the nightstand, never to be used again.

Not the throwing of papers and plans he'd done upon entering his room.

Not the reminder that he'd experienced something similar before.

For while that was true, having chosen to risk this type of loss all over again made it much worse now.

And nothing, absolutely nothing, could erase the flashbacks in his mind.

They were there even if he didn’t close his eyes.

They were always there.

But she wasn't.

No one could pull him from the ceaseless sense of drowning inside him.

Not even himself.

None of his previously formed coping mechanisms worked.

No one could get him to open up and talk.

No one could get him to accept it.

No one could get him to heal from it.

No one could get him to move on from the immediate aftermath of her death.

Though, they’d tried.

Jesper had offered to show Kaz how to let go and decompress the way he would after a bad heist.

He knew the Bastard wouldn't talk to him about what he was experiencing, so he tried to help through action.

Yet, Kaz refused to follow Jesper around from gambling den to gambling den.

So, Wylan stepped in and tried to play some relaxing music for him.

Wylan knew music could be healing and calming, but despite his best efforts, Kaz remained the same.

Nina was the next to try but when she tried to loosen his muscles, Kaz snapped at her.

It was the one time he truly said much of anything since that night

But, it told them all they had to know.

Kaz Brekker was gone.

They didn't know who, if anyone, would form over time.

But, their boss -and dare to say it, friend- was no longer there.

Inej merely left a note on his desk that she was there to talk if he wished to do so; not wanting to push him when he was already suffering.

Matthias normally couldn't care less for the demjin, but when Kaz shouted for Nina to leave him be and that he didn't want the pain to leave his body, even Matthias felt sorry for him.

The Fjerdan knew immediately what Kaz was meaning.

He too was willing to feel the pain of his losses (his parents and sister) as it acted as some torturous connection to the person they'd lost.

So, he helped Inej make sure the Crow Club kept operating so Kaz would have one less worry whenever he came back to them.

So Kaz once again found himself alone.

It wasn’t truly the being alone that bothered him.

It was the fact he was alone because she was gone that was painful

He could handle being alone.

But he couldn’t handle being without her.

He couldn't stand living in a world in which she didn’t exist.

He’d contemplated removing that possibility.

After all, he'd taken down Pekka Rollins already.

And now that Y/n was gone, he truly had no purpose here anymore.

But he knew it wouldn’t matter.

Even if Inej was right about their being some form of afterlife, he wouldn’t see y/n after his death.

If such a thing existed, she’d have earned a spot in 'Heaven'.

She'd be somewhere Kaz would never be allowed.

Somewhere almost deserving of her presence.

He wasn’t sure where Jordie had ended up, assuming Inej was right.

He wanted to believe his brother would also go to 'Heaven'.

However, due to Kaz's lack of faith, he didn’t know what behaviors amounted to earning a spot in 'Heaven'.

Nor did he know what behaviors would remove someone from such a place.

For all he knew, the Saints could have some tally sheet of behaviors that they kept track of throughout one's life.

Perhaps y/n wouldn’t get to the highest level of afterlife either.

But, if you asked Kaz, he knew she deserved far higher than him; no matter what she may have had to do to survive before they'd met.

Y/n was far better than him.

Far better than he was.

Far better than he is.

Far better than he ever could’ve been.

Far better than he ever would be now.

And far better than he deserved.

So, regardless of what the Saints might demand to get in, he knew that he’d never see her again even if there were an afterlife.

That didn’t stop the thought of attempting to get to wherever she was from occurring day in and day out; despite the constant alcoholic buzz he had.

No amount of paperwork, liquor, Kruge, heists, etc. could distract him enough from missing her.

He felt her absence everywhere.

The same way he’d felt her presence just days before.

The presence he’d never feel again.

It wasn’t that he had forgotten it was possible to lose her.

He just pushed aside the fear of that pain for the -at the time- current comfort of being with her.

The guy who cared only about his own survival found someone he was ready to die for.

Yet, he was denied the chance to show her that.

Instead, he was forced to watch her die while he stood by helplessly.

He always accounted for everything.

But losing her was not something he could have seen coming.

It should’ve been.

He knows that.

But the idea was far too terrifying and painful to even contemplate, much less anticipate or prepare for.

So he hadn’t.

He always took measures to ensure her safety.

Certainly during heists.

Yet, it wasn't enough.

It wasn’t enough to save her.

He wasn’t enough.

He hadn’t been calculated enough.

He hadn't been smart enough.

He hadn’t been focused enough.

When it came down to it, he hadn’t been enough.

And now she was gone.

And the only person he could truly blame was himself.

Of course, by now each of the opposing parties had been dealt with in a very Kaz-like manner.

He hadn't done so with the hopes that it would’ve eased his pain or his guilt.

He knew it wouldn’t.

But he couldn’t let them get away with it either.

She deserved better.

The least he could do was take their lives the way they took hers.

Yet, it did nothing to lower the waves -that normally rose to his chest- that now nearly reached his nose.

Nor did it do the one thing he was truly desperate for.

The bastard of the Barrel was never one to be seen as desperate.

Well, apart from having been desperate for revenge against Pekka; and perhaps Kruge.

But even so, that desperation was kept in check.

However, this was not.

And Kaz didn’t bother to pretend otherwise.

He couldn’t muster the energy to maintain his normally stoic demeanor to the full extent.

To most who didn’t know him, he probably looked like the same careless Barrel boss as before.

But those closest to him, his crows, and even some of the closer dregs saw the drastic change in him that night.

He’d always been troubled and plagued with his past and his losses.

But he now seemed haunted and hallowed by them.

No one knew what to do and they’d all been grieving in their own rights so no one found a way to truly comfort him.

Not that any attempt would be successful; as Kaz did not see himself coming back from this one.

Y/n had helped him with the trauma surrounding his brother Jordie.

But no one would be capable of helping him with the trauma of losing her.

He knew she had more power and impact on him than he’d ever care to admit.

But by the time he knew this, he was too far gone to effectively resist.

Losing her was like not only losing a part of himself but himself altogether.

He lost the drive that Kaz Brekker had.

His immediate anger and heartbreak had alleviated the people who played a role in her passing.

He now had no one to hunt, scheme against, nor harm.

No one to blame.

No one but himself.

And yet, even he knew that no one could have seen this coming.

Not even Dirtyhands Kaz Brekker.

Yet, he was the only option he had as a source to assign blame to.

Nonetheless, he lost the confidence and passion that the Barrell boss once had.

He lost the small spark of light that y/n instilled in him.

The light that made him believe even Kaz Brekker deserved a happy ending.

Now he was resigned to the fact he was clearly meant to end up alone.

If only he’d stuck with that belief, perhaps she would still be here.

He lost the happiness he’d worked so hard to accept from her.

She had been his one true source of happiness.

The crows and successful heists brought similar emotions.

But, only through y/n was he able to truly appreciate all of it.

He also lost what remained of poor, pathetic, little, Kaz Rietveld.

Any innocence that may have lingered deep down inside of him after Jordie’s death was now undoubtedly erased after y/n’s.

Any kindness or compassion he felt towards others felt ripped away from him as he fell into a numb state of being.

He hadn’t accounted for what his life would be like if she’d passed.

If anyone had asked prior to that night, he’d have told them he would be fine.

Of course he would, he’d have said, after all he’d experienced loss before.

And it drove him.

But even with Jordie, he didn’t truly survive.

A new version of him did, but he wasn’t the same.

Not until y/n had managed to resurrect what remained of the original version of himself.

Now both versions were destroyed and he didn’t know where that left him.

Other than in his office, endlessly drinking liquor as if it were a life source, and feeling sorry for himself.

Oh, if only Dirtyhands Kaz Brekker could see himself right now.

------

Kaz had drunk himself into such a stupor that he didn't hear the knock on his door.

It was now several nights after the incident and he hadn’t emerged from his chambers in well over 48 hours now.

So, unbeknownst to him, their home had an unexpected presence.

After much debate, the crows had agreed to step back and allow Kaz to contact the presence first.

Hence why Wylan's knocking increased in tempo; as if trying to show the urgency behind it.

Yet, the sound merely reverberated off the walls of Kaz's room without him noticing.

From the other side of the door, Jesper huffed loudly.

He signaled for the others to move back; ready to take whatever drastic measures it took to alert his best friend to the news he knew Kaz needed.

Nina gently placed her hands on her friends' shoulders and guided them away from the doorway.

Jesper smirked at the girls beside him before he aggressively kicked the wooden door, his smirk growing as the wood splintered and the door swung open.

“Kaz” Jesper said firmly as the crows all squinted in order to adjust to the dim lighting of his room.

Kaz either didn’t hear Jesper or chose to ignore him.

Instead of responding, he merely sipped on the amber liquid in his glass.

“We should leave you to it” Inej suggested, giving her friend a smile and shoulder squeeze before having to all but drag the others away.

Kaz’s eyes never changed from the distant look they had seemingly taken on before they'd entered.

He hadn’t moved one millimeter other than to take another sip of his drink.

Anyone could see the state of distress the Bastard had been in by just seeing the state of his room.

There was broken glass and other debris around the room, empty liquor bottles piled up in an overflowing garbage bin, an unusual lack of papers/plans on his desk, etc.

The phsyical state of his room along with the completely dissociated gaze his eyes held broke y/n’s heart as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.

She wasn’t sure what she expected after that night.

She knew he likely thought she was dead.

After all, she thought she was going to be.

She should’ve been.

She knew Kaz loved her, in his own way.

So she expected some kind of reaction to her apparent death.

But, she hadn’t expected this.

She hadn’t wanted this.

Shed made her way back to their home as quickly and safely as she reasonably could.

It had taken over a day to do so, but she didn’t want Kaz’s crew or their fellow Crows to spot her.

She knew they’d immediately tell Kaz and given that he’d seen her fall after being shot, she knew he’d lash out at the reporting party for spreading gossip.

She hoped she could make it to him undetected but quickly enough to prevent him from much grief.

But even though it hadn’t taken her much more than a day to reach him, he seemed to have already spiraled.

She took a deep breath and slowly walked closer to his desk.

Y/n hated how his eyes never left his glass despite her movements.

He was never this unobservant.

Or perhaps he no longer cared nor had the energy to bother with his surroundings.

Either way, she hated this.

Y/n cautiously set a hand over the far side of the rim on his glass as she tried to block him from taking another slug of the beverage.

She watched as his body reacted slowly.

While it took much longer than normal, his reaction was enough to show Kaz had been able to sense a change, which was more than she’d gotten so far.

Kaz’s glazed eyes dragged upwards from his glass to her face in a painstakingly glacial pace.

When they finally landed on her, he froze for a moment, his eyes now appearing needy and hungry.

Once his eyes seemed to take in her presence, they shut tightly as his body shook.

Y/n swallowed thickly as uncharacteristic tears pushed their way through Kaz’s closed eyes and down his face.

“Kaz” y/n whispered.

She wanted so badly to kneel by his desk as to be closer to him, but her wounded leg wouldn’t let her.

She watched as he slammed his glass down, the liquid splashing out the rim onto his desk.

He drug his hand down his face and gripped the edge of the desk “fuck”.

Y/n saw he was wearing his gloves despite being alone in his room and her heart somehow hurt even more.

He hadn’t done that in years.

Yet, here he was, unable to handle the feeling of even his own skin.

“Kaz, please talk to me” she tried again, desperately wanting to help him.

She watched as a sob shook his body and barely squeaked past his lips.

The sound made her own tears fall faster.

“Love, I want to help-“ y/n whispered after giving themselves a moment to regain their composure.

“You’re not real! Just fucking stop” Kaz shouted, both of his hands flying to his face.

One of his hands began pulling at his hair until it hurt, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

He felt insane.

He knew he’d been drinking far too much.

Perhaps this illusion before him was somehow his consequence.

Y/n watched him closely, unsure how to reach him.

They’d worked on his touch aversion before but now hardly seemed like the time to push it.

“Kaz, I am real” she spoke tenderly, watching his body language for any signs of him listening to her.

He only shook his head and stifled another sob.

Y/n sniffled and audibly took a deep breath, “I know… and I’m sorry, I came as fast as I could-”.

“It… it isn’t… it is not possible” Kaz repeated to himself.

“Look at me, please. Kaz I need to see your eyes” y/n begged.

It would usually work as Kaz knew how comforting it was to look into her eyes so he’d always returned the favor when prompted.

However, y/n watched his fingers grip together tightly as he resisted looking up at her.

“Look I tried to… I know I was bleeding…-“ she began trying to explain but was uncertain how to do so.

“Hey, see my leg? That’s from the fall, but I’m not dead” y/n attempted, pointing down at her excessively bandaged leg.

Kaz shook his head defiantly, not glancing up from the desk.

There was no way she didn’t die, he’d seen her fall.

He’d never have left her if he didn’t know she was dead

Even when he knew, Mathias had to shove and push him back to the club as his body froze at the sight.

All of his survival instants evaporated when he watched her fall to her death.

He threw up the contents of his stomach once he’d made it back and realized Matthias had been touching him the whole time.

So, he knew this illusion before him had to be wrong.

But he couldn’t figure out why his mind would do this to him.

Because, despite the illusion of her presence in this moment, Kaz had the image of her death burned in his mind.

The image had played in his mind on endless loop for hours, hence the never ending flow of alcohol.

Seeing his once again distant stare, y/n sighed, “Kaz I’m alive… it’s me, I promise. I’m okay, I’m not dead”.

Kaz’s brain replayed the torturous flashback upon hearing her words.

His eyes stared blankly ahead at the wall as his mind once again recalled the night he’d lost her.

The heist had gone wrong, the crows were detected far earlier than planned due to the sudden rainfall.

The intense rainfall diminished the fog Wylan’s explosives were supposed to offer, prompting the guards of the house they were fleeing to spot them much faster than anticipated.

This meant everyone was rushing back to the Crow Club and not as attentive to their surroundings.

Well, everyone but Kaz.

Kaz, of course, stayed as attentive as always.

He saw the way the water was gathering in the sight depressed areas of the old roofs.

He warned y/n and Inej to be cautious and aware of them.

But they still had to hurry nonetheless in order to not be caught.

Kaz was a few feet behind on the ground when it happened.

He watched in horror as a bullet pierced her left shoulder, making her dodge to the right in response.

But as she did, she lost her footing when she stepped into the small puddle of water that had formed in a small bowl shape indentation on the roof.

Kaz watched as her ankle buckled and she fell to her side, her upper body hanging over the edge.

Kaz had unconsciously begun to painfully climb the stairs on the side of the building.

Despite the pain in his legs he needed to reach her before the situation worsened.

So he pressed on, reaching the top rather quickly.

But as he pushed himself onto the roof, he could only watch as the guard shoved her lower body off the slanted roof.

It took only seconds for Kaz to disarm the guard and turn him into a bloody withering mess.

As the man slid off the roof, Kaz neared the edge only to see the exact thing he feared he’d see.

Her limp body was laid there, eyes open but blank, blood puddled around her shoulder and head.

He pressed his cane into the roof more to stabilize himself as the rain continued to gush down on him.

He stared at her, waiting for her chest to begin rising and falling again.

It had to.

She had to be okay.

He wasn’t able to think clearly enough to even question it when something suddenly shoved him away from the scene.

His eyes may have physically left the scene at that moment, but the image of her limp frame was already burned into his retinas.

And that image was all he saw until he’d arrived back at the club.

And that image was what continued to haunt him now.

Kaz slowly came back to the present moment, his body trembling and lip bleeding from biting it so aggressively.

He looked up at the illusion of her and glared, “I don’t know what alleged Saint I’ve wronged, but what kind of Saint does this to someone?!”

With a sorrowful look in her eyes, she shook her head, “Kaz, there’s no Saint involved. It’s me, it’s y/n”.

Seeing the anger and disbelief still in his eyes, she closed the distance and smiled softly.

She set her hand palm upwards on his desk, as an invite for him to touch her and see that she was real; if he were able to.

It took several silent minutes of him staring at her hand before he moved.

But, when he did, he reluctantly removed one glove and placed his fingertips against her palm.

His chair squeaked against the floor as he jumped at the feeling of her hand against his fingers.

The feeling he knew and cherished.

As his eyes became glassier, Kaz adjusted so he could firmly place his fingers over her wrist in search of her pulse.

When he acknowledged there was in fact a pulse, his grip on her wrist tightened some.

“B-but-..” He cleared his throat, eyes fierce as they looked up at her in frustration, “You’re supposed to be dead!”

“I’m not though, Kaz” she assured him with a delicate smile.

When he removed his hand from hers to out his glove back on, she waited for him to speak.

However when he didn’t soften his intense glare, she spoke again.

“If you prefer that though..” She teases hoping to break the tension, “I can just-“

“Don’t” Kaz’s raspy voice demanded as he abruptly stood.

He let his eyes scan her whole body slowly.

Both in search of injuries or signs of her fall, and in searches of all the tiny details only he knew.

Like the way she had a faint scar on her elbow from a fight she’d won the night Kaz met her.

Or the details he memorized in the way that she would stand when nervous.

Once he’d had adequate time to take in her appearance, she softly assured him, “I’m here Kaz. It’s me”.

“I thought…” his voice broke and he cleared his throat as to not sound weak when speaking again.

“I lost you” He stated, eyes furrowed as he looked at her.

“Kaz you didn’t-“ she sighed sympathetically as she scanned the pain in his features.

“Yes I did” He corrected, sitting down when his legs shook.

“Losing you was a nightmare that I begged every day to awake from." He admitted, resting his sweaty forehead in his gloved palms as he propped himself up with the support of his desk.

She drug over a chair, her chair that was across the room when she’d arrived.

Sitting beside him without touching him, she spoke softly, “you’ve awakened from it now Kaz. I’m so sorry it to me so long to-“.

“How?” He cut in, eyes dazed as he looked at her.

“How?” She asked, uncertain which topic he was referencing.

“How did you survive? You- he cleared his throat you stopped breathing and the … blood..” he whispered, his gravely voice thicker than normal.

She nodded, “Nina’s friend, Lieke, from the little palace? Well, she happened to be nearby”.

“She’s a heartrenderer?” Kaz asked, racking his brain to see if he already knew this.

Y/n nodded again, “I’d never met her, but Lieke said she owed Nina a favor”.

Kaz was silent as his mind tried to play through it to make sure this wasn’t some twisted scheme.

Y/n knew from the look on his face what he was doing

So, she continued her weak attempt at explaining the situation she barely came to terms with herself.

“I guess she recognized me and us all, thanks to Nina’s stories and your reputation, so when she saw me … fall…” she whispered.

“She waited until it was safe and then she took me in and patched me up. She said I wasn’t awake for a few days… So,.. so I had a late start getting here. I’m sorry-” y/n frowned.

“Don’t” Kaz barked harshly, closing his eyes in guilt at his outburst.

After a moment of tense silence, he took a shaky breath and continued.

“Do not apologize for that” Kaz demanded, “I don’t care how long it took”.

She gave him a thankful timid smile as he glanced up at her.

“I shouldn’t have left you” he said, his voice laced with guilt.

“Kaz, you thought-” she argued, her voice far more sympathetic than Kaz felt he deserved.

“I know what I thought” he snapped, his eyes glazing over again.

“There is no greater terror than watching something you love fall right in front of your eyes” Kaz remarked, staring straight ahead.

“L-love?” Y/n asked, a small gasp escaping her lips.

He nodded once firmly, moving so his eyes were now staring into hers.

She knew he loved her but he hadn’t been able to say it before.

“I love you too Kaz. I’m here, you can breathe now” she calmly said, giving him a tender smile.

Kaz stared at her silently.

He needed to say it.

He wanted to say it.

He thought he had missed his chance before.

He couldn’t risk missing it again now that she was here.

This wasn’t how he thought he’d finally say it to her whenever he found the nerve to.

But, he supposed it was also kinda fitting for them.

“I do” he started, taking a deep inhale upon seeing her confusion, “I do ..love you.”

Her lips snapped up into a wide grin as she gazed lovingly back at him.

“I love you” Kaz repeated, more confidently this time.

She stood up beside his desk, setting her wrist out on his table again.

Kaz glanced at her before tugging off his gloves and gripping her wrist, fingers splayed crossed her pulse.

He closed his eyes as he fought the urge to puke.

But, as his fingers met her skin, her warmth and steady heartbeat under his fingertips was distraction enough.

And the fact it meant she was here and alive was rewarding and calming to him.

When he opened his eyes he saw she’d been switching between watching him and looking at the room.

Kaz instantly became aware of the state of his room.

He felt kiss cheeks warm faintly, “I’ll clean it up”.

She shook her head, tentatively reaching her fingers toward his forehead.

They had touched more than this before, but he was appreciative that she was cautious given everything that’d transpired the last week.

He wasn’t sure how he’d react either.

He nodded at her in approval and his heart fluttered warmly as she delicately pushed some stray hairs from his forehead.

For a few minutes they silently stared at each other, staying like that with her fingers minimally touching his forehead.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve been feeling Kaz” she told him sorrowfully.

Dirtyhands fought with him to stay silent, the way he’d done since the incident happened.

Yet, the fragmented pieces of Kaz Rietveld crawled their way through his walls and told him to open up to her.

He could see the look in her eyes and knew from the tone of her voice that she wanted to understand how he’d been since they last were together.

So, despite his reluctance, he let the pieces of his former self - the ones he thought had died with her-reignite.

“I wanted to scream” he began shyly.

“ I wanted to burst into tears, I wanted to die, but all I could do was stare at the wall in silence and drink” Kaz admitted, motioning to the bottles scattering the floor.

She hummed softly, moving her hand that was near his forehead to place it on top of his hand that had been resting in her other palm.

Kaz closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, but as she went to pull away, he pressed his other hand over hers silently to keep it in place.

When he reopened his eyes he lifted a hand up to cup her cheek, “you’re here”.

She moved closer, “I am. I’m here”.

Kaz gave her cheek a tender stroke with his thumb as he offered her a smile; the kind only she ever got to see.

“No more rooftops” Kaz said, abruptly pulling back and writing something on a piece of paper he grabbed from the floor.

Y/n smirked and rolled her eyes.

Normally she’d argue with him about his overprotective behavior, but she knew better.

She didn’t want to imagine how she’d have been if the roles were reversed.

So instead, she nodded slowly when he looked up at her waiting on her annoyed argument he expected.

He let out a soft sigh of relief and gave her a small nod before he resumed scribbling, “The heartrender was Lieke, you said?”

Y/n smiled and nodded, “Lieke Abspoel. Super nice, from the Little Palace. That’s all I’ve got. Nina probably has more information on her.”

Kaz nodded and made a note to have Zenik bring this heartrender to him later.

For now, he planned to let himself enjoy the moment.

Sensing he was staring at her as she looked around the room, y/n turned back to him.

Smiling softly she walked to the bookshelf across the room and grabbed the hard spine of a book.

Kaz only realized in that moment that when he’d been staring off at the wall, he has actually been staring at that particular book without realizing it.

When she sat on the ledge of his window perch, Kaz routinely joined her, taking the book from her hands.

As he read the title, he felt his face warm and he grinned faintly.

The book he’d been unknowingly staring at the whole time was her favorite book.

Of course it was.

Dirtyhands wanted to smack himself for the loving and soft thoughts floating through his mind right now, but Kaz didn’t care.

He was just glad he hasn’t an actually lost her.

After reading the first line, he abruptly stood up and placed the book down.

Y/n watched in confusion as he dragged his desk chair over to her.

With her nonverbal approval, Kaz tenderly lifted her leg up onto it.

He glanced from the injured leg to her face and she smiled reassuringly “she could only do so much, she said it’ll take another week or so to fully set, but it doesn’t hurt”.

“You shouldn’t have walked here “ Kaz told her, almost scolding her.

She shook her head, “I needed to see you, couldn’t have you thinking you should be moving on without me”.

His eyes snapped to hers and he gave her a firm stare even if she’d been teasing, he wasn’t, “that wouldn’t ever happen”.

She hummed softly and nodded.

He slowly rejoined her, opening the book and holding it just above her leg closest to him as he prepared to read to her.

While he knew things would likely return to normal in the coming weeks, he would always cherish this moment.

Kaz had his girl back.

And now, he knew of additional ways to keep her safe.

Including, perhaps hiring a second heartrender to be on call should the need arise.

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Current tag list (comment here to added): @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkershadowsinger @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[honeii-puff]

In which five times Kaz bakes for the crows

[sarasvegliatieprimavera]

BURY ME FACE DOWN || Kaz Brekker

Words count: 1.5k words

Summary: Who’s the only one capable of putting Kaz Brekker down if not Kaz Brekker himself? The moment he recognises the end.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood and death.

Author’s note: I apologize in advance for any errors but English is not my first language, hope you like it.

///

[...] Thinkin' that they've won

It's only just begun

When I go

Into the ground

I won't go quietly

I'm bringing my crown

And when I go

Into the ground

Oh, they gotta bury me

Bury me face down [...]

What lies behind silence? Messes, truths, lies, secrets, anxieties, fears, or, maybe, nothing important.

Silence can be a weapon, but at the same time a weakness; full of unspoken words and unheard thoughts, so scary.

In that moment Kaz couldn’t decide whether could works on his favour or not; blood dripped from the knife he was holding, one drop after another fell to the ground causing a slight tic, not caring about what was surrounding her at that moment.

The pool was expanding more and more under the boy's indifferent gaze, the red of the blood was reflected in his deep dark eyes. The two colors mixed together as if they had both found their place to be.

Tic, tic, tic.

The only sound that punctuated Kaz's thoughts, the only thing that kept him grounded in reality and reminded him of the situation he found himself in. He eyed the figure in front of him with a slight hint of challenge, his lips curled into a grin. The blood stain on his arm spread like wildfire and he couldn't help but look at it with satisfaction. "Come on, make your move," he wanted to say, but remained silent and waited. The Guy in front of him was holding a dagger in his hands, like him; the hilt was completely hidden by his hand, making the blade seem like an extension of it. Stopping to observe it more carefully he noticed his name engraved in a fine and elegant handwriting.

Kaz Brekker. Dirtyhands. The bastard of the Barrel.

Many names, all correct if it was talking about him.

He was the terror of the people who dared to touch him, the monster who hid under the bed and who tormented people's sleep, the shadow hidden in the most remote parts of the mind. He was the stranger that parents warn their children about. He had been raised by the demons of hell and put on the path to destruction, it was a paradox and a constant question.

He wasn't good, he wasn't bad. He simply was and would continue to be until the day he took his last breath, and probably even after that.

He looked from the person in front of him to the knife he held tightly between his slender, ungloved fingers; his grip was so tight around the handle that his knuckles turned white and his hand trembled slightly. “Restrain yourself,” a distant voice screamed in his mind.

The blade glinted in the dim moonlight and, for some reason, seemed even sharper and more deadly. In the past it had happened that he was stabbed, even if there weren't many people who could tell about it. He remembered the initial sensation of the cold covering his limbs, he remembered the pain that arose from it and that increasingly grew and the sensation of the flesh being sliced, the nerves severed and the screams suffocated in an evil laugh.

He remembered the blood. So much blood staining hands and clothes. Blood that couldn't be cleaned up, that he was forced to wear like the pair of gloves usually glued to his hands like a second skin. Because the blood could not be cleaned up, just as the pain could not be erased, he knew well. He had learned so well to live with it, to court it and cultivate it within himself that he no longer understood where it began and where it ended. He happened to recognize it inside himself as he twisted himself between his limbs and tried to re-emerge, he heard him screaming and pawing his feet in an attempt to make him collapse, to make him collapse on himself, gasping in a desperate attempt to survive.

Living... What a word, yet no one knows what it really means. What does it mean to live? Feel the air in your lungs? The beating heart? He, who had thrown away his heart long ago, didn't know it. He had dedicated his life to creating a name and stories to leave behind, he had cultivated fear in the people who met him and who should never forget him.

After all those years, living had almost become a privilege, something he should be grateful for, even if he never had. It had become a concept that he didn't take for granted, especially after the numerous times he had found himself in plea deals.

Kaz continued to look at the boy with the dagger and the more he watched him, the more he realized how much he looked like him: the raven hair pulled back, the dark eyes, the tattoos clearly visible, but also the look, the hunger, the torment. Now he wondered if it wasn't all a trick his mind had played on him to punish him for his sins, the shadow that Inej spoke of and that had crawled out of the worst part of him.

"Who are you?" The question came spontaneously from Kaz's lips and hung in the air in the few meters that separated him from his other self, from his Copy. He saw it flutter through the air and then fall to the ground along with the pool of blood that slowly continued to expand. “Pick it up,” he thought, “I want to know who you are.”

He tried again, ignoring the fact that if it was really like him then he wouldn't answer. Why do it, after all? Why collapse that enormous sleight of hand when you have other tricks up your sleeve? Why reveal the cards when you can still keep playing?

He saw him grin as he approached the blood-stained question, saw him pick it up and put it in his pocket. He was still smiling as he took a first limping step toward him, the hand holding the knife swinging at his side while the other gripped the crow's-headed stick. Kaz approached him with the same confident step, in his eyes they looked like two hungry wolves about to jump at each other's throats and, if so, who would make the first move?

They were so close that he could feel his breath hitting his face and his heart beating a little faster, "Fear or anger" he muttered to himself.

Without warning a new awareness dawned on him, the thought that he was going to die. He expected to hear some concern, but that didn't happen. He was about to die but it didn't bother him, as if he had always been ready for this moment. He had played with Death for so long, one deception after another and now she had come to ask for his ransom. He had a blood score to settle with her and it was time she paid it.

The Copy placed a hand on his shoulder, his lips curved in a smile he didn't think he'd ever seen on him.

They looked at each other for the last time, then it all ended.

The blade pierced his stomach, he felt the cold and felt the pain.

He suppressed a groan as the blood stain spread across his shirt, but he wasn't the only one to get stained. The Copy was bleeding and pawing, agonized screams filling the silence as he watched him cling to himself. The blade pushed even deeper, breaking his breath as it burned deeper and deeper in his lungs.

He felt it squeeze his shoulder as he continued to push the knife, twist it, pull it out and stab him again. He whispered words in Kaz’ ear as he accompanied him to the ground, they seemed like reassurances, like a brother hugging you after a bad day.

Kaz saw him bleeding and falling to the ground, he was dying with him. He killed him and killed himself.

Slowly he felt his strength fading and his breathing slowly leaving him, he felt his eyelids heavy as he tried to keep his eyes open.

"I want to look at him" he said to himself, "I want to see him as life abandons him".

The Copy crawled ungracefully next to him, staring straight into his, his hand still resting on his shoulder.

"Who are you?" The question left his lips again in a hoarse and weak gasp, even his voice was abandoning him. He continued to fight against the darkness, feeling it clinging to him and trying to take him with them, but he wanted, had to, stay awake.

The Copy smiled at him again, moving his gaze upwards, observing something that Kaz, however, could not see. A solitary tear made its way down his pale cheek, reaching the angular line of his jaw, then reaching his neck, before disappearing under the collar of his shirt.

It was in that moment that he heard what he never thought he would hear, what he hoped he would never hear. "I am you, Kaz. I am what Life sent to redeem your debt to her" They were the last words he heard before he felt his eyelids become too heavy to keep them open.

In the end his death had come by his own hand, because only one person could put an end to his existence and that person was Kaz Brekker.

"I will not go quietly to my grave, I will wear my crown and when I go underground they will have to bury me face down. Just like that I will be able to look the devil straight in the face."

[audreyclimbs]

about me!

Quick links:

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Hi everyone! I’ve had tumblr for ages and have only just decided to get back into writing (after a three year hiatus oop). Here are some quick facts about me:

I’m Audrey, I’m 19 years old (she/her, bi)

Fluent in English and Spanish

American college student, studying nursing

Lover of: taylor swift, God, marvel, hotd, noah kahan, daredevil, fourth wing, science, hozier, mythology, working out, grishaverse, acotar

Hater of: bigotry 😚

New member of the Matt Murdock Tuna Team!

I’d love to start taking requests, so even if you don’t see your fandom mentioned in my “lover of” category, feel free to drop an ask and I’ll get back to you asap!!

MDNI: there will eventually be 18+ nsfw content on this blog, so I will make sure to mark mdni posts! I will not be held responsible if any of yall choose to ignore that warning 😀🤚🏼

[olskuvallanpoe]

new fic: sun & shadow

kanej (six of crows), 4.2k words - au, hurt/comfort

summary: “as a young boy, kaz rietveld had lived a life filled with light. / years later, kaz brekker fell in love with a girl made of shadow.”

[delusionalgirlwritingfanfic]

So apparently, I'm never leaving my hyper fixation on the grisha verse yet again. I have an oc one shot that I had not planned on writing but loved too much not too keep and will eventually realse it because it's been sitting at already six pages long, I wanted to knock it out. However, ignoring the rabling, I am taking requests for Kaz Brekker slash any crow ideas and Nikolia Lantsvo. School has restarted college is tame as of thus far I will try my best to keep up if y'all want anything.

[heliads]

Hii Lisa my beloved!💕💕 I'm in my Kaz phase again and some stupid ideas have been running through my head constantly. Hoping you could turn it into a wonderful fic, if you like the idea of course.

Kaz x reader with slight Nikolai x reader😌

So, reader is a Grisha with healing abilities (hidden like Alina). After a tragic event, the loss of their family hit hard and they were taken into care by some people that worked at the palace. That's where reader met Nikolai, they became best friends and later enrolled in Army, became lovers all of that. Reader's healing powers were slightly special in the sense that when they used them there was a golden glow all around, making the wrong people believe reader was a sun summoner. After being madly in love for some time, reader got kidnapped for their powers. Tortured for 2 years, reader was saved by our lovely Crows. Reader believed Nikolai never looked for them (false because he did desperately until he ran away and became Sturmhond after believing that reader died)

Reader becomes a Crow, falls in love with Kaz, they have a relationship for 2 years or so and then, one day they fight about something and right at that time, Nikolai makes his way to their bar. Reader and Nikolai have an emotional meeting that leaves Kaz insecure and jealous.

The ending...well I think reader should stay with Kaz buut I'm not opposed to something else👀

Whatever you want my dear Lisa. I hope this makes sense and it's not too insane. I love you and thank you💕

my beloved!!! this request is literally incredible, why are your ideas always exquisite????

masterlist

You don’t like it when Ketterdam is quiet. This jilted city of yours is always loud, always rowdy, and on the few instances in which it isn’t, the whole place seems to hold its breath, just waiting for something bad to happen. Sometimes you hear things you shouldn’t when there’s no background noise to cover it up. Sometimes, worst of all, you dream. 

This dream is not a good one. You only know this after waking. The dream leaves quickly, as all dreams do, slipping back away under cover of night to haunt some other sleeper. You let it pool in your trembling hands, dripping out through your fingers despite your best attempts to stop it from abandoning you. It must have been a tumultuous dream indeed, because for a moment you thought you were back. Back in Ravka. Back with him. 

Ravka is not yours anymore. It was, once upon a time, or so you let yourself believe. You were born in a small village near Adena, home mostly to craftsmen without merit and tradesmen with a fear of leaving their homes. It was a quiet, get-what-you-will existence for the most part, up until the point when you reattached a woman’s severed leg with a wave of your hand and discovered you were a Grisha.

Healers are valuable commodities in a war-torn nation, and you were shipped off to Os Alta before you knew it. It would have been lonely there in a city fiercely divided between Grisha and non-Grisha, were it not for the one friend you made there. A prince, of all people. A second son who wanted nothing more to run. Nikolai Lantsov.

You and Nikolai were just children when you met. It took years of close friendship for you to trust each other enough to fall in love, and even then, it was your best kept secret. Princes do not fall in love with witches. Grisha do not fall in love with mortal men. You kissed him behind locked doors and swore it would be enough for you, even if it wasn’t.

Perhaps it would have been, if Fate had been content to let you rest in mere complacency. There was one singular trait that separated you from the rest of the Corporalnik Healers at the Little Palace, one minor mark of difference. You can heal a patient just as well as anybody else, but for some reason, you glow when you do it. A warm, golden light emits from your palms whenever you use your gifts. His sunbeam, Nikolai used to call you.

Maybe people listened in too closely when they shouldn’t have. Maybe someone connected dots that didn’t exist. Maybe it’s just that in a country like Ravka, a country split by the Shadow Fold, a country in desperate need of Saints, it would be easy to overlook someone’s mortality in the hopes of discovering their own salvation.

That’s your best guess as to what happened to you. What you remember best is the aftermath, not the reason. You were taken from Os Alta in the dead of night, your hands bound in chains so you couldn’t fight or use your gift. You tried to scream, but they had a Squaller, a damned traitor, who stole the breath from your lungs before any sound could be heard.

They tortured you for two months, hoping you’d break and show that you really were the Sun Summoner they’d get paid to sell. It never happened, so they dug harder, cut you more, cared even less. You waited in dark and squalid rooms for someone to rescue you, someone like Nikolai, but no one came. No one Ravkan, at least.

You always wondered if you could put a time cap on the love of a prince. It turns out you can:  four months and six days is all it took for Nikolai Lantsov to give up on you. You spent four months and six days waiting for him before hearing that he’d officially stopped mourning you in public to go to university, and the remainder of those two years in wondering how little he must have cared for you to give up just like that. 

You have no doubt that your captors would have spent far longer than two pathetic years in trying to extract a Sun Saint from your exhausted spirit were it not for your rescuer. A far different savior than you expected, to be sure, far more bloodthirsty than any guardian angel you’ve ever heard about, but he did the job. He always does.

That’s Dirtyhands for you, you suppose, he gets what he wants. And if what he wants is a Healer at the low cost of having to break into a smuggler’s ship while it paused briefly in the Kerch harbor for supplies, so be it. Kaz Brekker was there for money and he was there for a new soldier to serve in his gang. You happened to fit both bills.

At first, you hadn’t known if you were actually safe or in even more danger than before. At least Kaz wasn’t torturing you outright– that was a start, wasn’t it? You didn’t trust him in the slightest at first, nor him with you. It took months of slow, apprehensive acceptance for that to happen.

It took longer for hesitant acquaintanceship to turn into friendship, and for friendship to turn to something more. Something like happiness. Something like the pure contentment of knowing that there is one person out there who would burn the whole world down if you were ever hurt. Nikolai mourned you for an appropriate time, but if the roles were reversed and you were in Ketterdam when you were kidnapped, Kaz would never accept your loss. 

He’s all but told you this himself. There was one instance in your first six months of being in the Barrel when another Grisha hunter decided you would make decent prey. You were only an hour later than expected, but ten men were killed and a pleasure house burnt to the ground by the time Kaz got you back. You never feared getting taken again. You think he’s quite proud of that, even if he’ll never admit it to a living soul. Only the dead tell no tales. 

So the Barrel is your home, so bloody kruge becomes your daily bread and butter. You wouldn’t want any other life. There is always the fear that you would someday lose that confidence, but you swore that time was over. Apparently not, though. 

All that time spent learning to live again, and you still wake up in cold sweats, half sure that you’re back in your birth country and no better off than when you started. Kaz doesn’t deserve that. Your guilty conscience makes you want to beg his forgiveness, so you slip out of your room and up the stairs to his office without a second thought.

You know better than to think that Kaz Brekker would be asleep a few hours past dawn. You’re not entirely sure that he ever sleeps at all. It wouldn’t surprise you if he found a way to optimize his waking hours such that he never needed to close his eyes. Being able to capitalize on the time everyone else spent sleeping would certainly give him a leg up in the race of the Barrel rats. 

Sometimes, when he’s feeling charitable, Kaz lets you heal him just a little bit, not the sort of injury reduction associated with broken bones but that of eliminating exhaustion. You’ve learned how to use your gifts without touching skin. Maybe that’s why he wanted your skills on his side in the first place, just in case. 

The door creaks slightly when you come in. It is well within Kaz’s powers to oil the dratted thing, but you think he likes the sound. It serves as a warning of an intruder if he needs one, a reminder that he is no longer alone. It tells him that you are here now, and he looks up from his seat at his desk. The only sign that these aren’t normal working hours for anyone else is the slight dishevelment of his appearance, dark hair falling haphazardly over his eyes from being frustratedly pushed out of the way one too many times, his clothes rumpled and jacket removed.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks.

“Could you?” You return.

Kaz rolls his eyes. “I don’t need sleep.”

“Of course you do,” you say matter-of-factly, “You’re still human, Kaz, despite your best efforts to turn yourself into a machine.”

“I think it would be less productive to be a machine,” Kaz muses as he considers the stacks of ledgers before him, “think of the rust. Also, I don’t trust any gadget not to break down when you need it most.”

You snort, closing the door behind you and walking to the window behind his desk. “Machines aren’t the only ones breaking down all the time. People do that too.”

Your voice trails off on your last sentence, and Kaz cuts off his stare with his ledgers, turning his chair to face you. When he speaks again, his tone is gentle. It would surprise anyone but you.

“You’ve had another nightmare about Ravka again, haven’t you?”

You deliberate over your words, opting instead to perch on Kaz’s window seat and draw your legs up to your chest. He already knows the answer, anyway. “Yes,” you reply at last.

Kaz nods once. “It’s not real. The dream.”

You laugh bitterly. “I know that. I just hate the way I keep thinking about that place. It makes me feel weak.”

Kaz frowns. “You’re not weak. If you were, I never would have hired you.”

You can’t stop a faint grin from flitting across your face. “So romantic, Kaz.”

“Isn’t it?” He asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder and register genuine bewilderment on your face. To Kaz, you suppose, that is the height of romance after all. A true validation of your worth, a promise that you are enough.

It makes you smile. “You’re right,” you decide, “it is. It’s good to know my position is safe.”

“You’re safe,” Kaz repeats. He stands, walking over to the window. He doesn’t lean against you, but you can feel the exhale of his breath on your shoulder, the ghost of the touch you will never force him to give. “I will make sure of it.”

The two of you stare out the window at the rising sun. A new dawn is coming, bringing with it a new day, new surprises. Some of those surprises, as it turns out, will be far more shocking than you could have ever envisioned.

You’d like to say that you recovered from your nightmare pretty quickly after that, and you did collect your wits, but the jittery feeling stays with you well into the evening. You decide to stop by the Crow Club once dusk sets in, both as a favor to Kaz and for yourself. Once you do your usual perusal of tables, only having to point out one particularly gifted cheater to the guards, you allow yourself to drift over to the bar and order your favorite drink.

You see Jesper briefly in between rounds of Makker’s Wheel and talk idly for a few moments before he drifts off again. The Crow Club, albeit one of the fastest places in Kerch for money to leave your pockets, still feels like home to you. The rowdy hubbub, the dim lights, all of it is yours and has been for some time now. The Barrel is not safe, but this is Kaz’s place, and that means you never feel threatened so long as you’re within its walls.

Maybe that’s why you don’t register the new presence until it’s too late to run. The thought that the young man standing before you could ever be here at all is utterly bewildering. This is the Barrel, this is your mess of dingy canals and hopeless cases. What reason could Nikolai Lantsov possibly have to bring him down these parts?

You blink and he’s standing there staring at you like he’s seen a ghost. All the cockiness drains from his step as his jaw unapologetically drops. It is loud in here, but you swear the volume drops just long enough for you to hear him with perfect accuracy as Nikolai whispers:

“Y/N?”

He says it like a prayer delivered by a dying man, every syllable infused with impossible hope. You don’t respond, but something in your expression must confirm his question anyway. Either that or your face has changed so little in the five years since you saw him last that Nikolai can recognize you anyway, even in the smoke-filled haven of the Crow Club.

He draws forward by impulse, steps quickening the closer he gets to you. In all honesty, you have no idea what he is about to do, nor how you would respond, so you find yourself unquestionably grateful when Kaz emerges out of nowhere to stand in between you and Ravka’s younger prince.

Nikolai pulls up short to avoid running into him. “Who,” Kaz says, voice low but cold as a blade, “are you?”

Nikolai’s gaze darts past Kaz to lock squarely on you. You find yourself answering in his stead. “This is Nikolai.”

You can’t see Kaz’s expression from this angle, but you can imagine the way his eyes must narrow anyway. “Nikolai from Ravka?”

“The very one,” Nikolai replies, a touch of that same bravado in his tone you remembered so well.

Kaz scoffs. “Impossible. How’d you cross the Shadow Fold, then, prince?”

Nikolai gestures to himself, and only now once the initial shock of seeing him is starting to fade away do you realize how absurdly he’s dressed. “I left Ravka when I thought Y/N died. I go by a different name now. Sturmhond.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, a high sound bordering almost on fright. “You became a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrects, and judging by the quick answer you’re guessing it’s the same knee-jerk response he gives to everybody.

Kaz shifts slightly, allowing you to see the glare he’s not bothering to hide. “And what are you doing in my city, privateer?”

Nikolai swallows hard. “I heard a rumor about a Healer. A Healer whose hands glowed when she saved someone’s life. I had to know.”

Kaz looks like he wants to physically cut the source of this information out of Nikolai’s throat, but you beat him to it. “Why would you care now? You never tried to find me.”

Nikolai’s eyes flash. “I tried every day until I heard you were dead. I mourned for months.”

“Heard,” Kaz comments, “you never found a body?”

“Obviously not,” Nikolai says, glancing towards you again, “Why didn’t you come back to Ravka, Y/N? Why didn’t you try to find me? I missed you. I loved you. I still do.” He holds out a hand to you. “My ship leaves in one week’s time. Come home with me.”

You find yourself flinching back. Since your first days on the shores of Ketterdam, you’ve long since learned to disguise any sign of weakness, but Kaz knows you well enough to look for signs of trouble in even your slightest of expressions.

The small catch of your breath now tells him all he needs to know regarding Nikolai’s offer. Kaz’s hands curl around his cane, causing the black leather to crease like skin. “Y/N is safe here, Lantosov. She doesn’t need your war-torn country.”

Nikolai’s brow furrows. “Who are you to speak for her?”

“I’m the one who actually saved her instead of giving up,” Kaz says simply, “I’m the one who gave her a home.”

Nikolai’s eyes flit to you again, and you nod. “I loved you, Nikolai, it’s true, but I moved on when you did. Ketterdam is where I belong. My time in Ravka is over.”

You see Kaz straighten up imperceptibly by your side. From the way he’d spoken to Nikolai, you hadn’t thought he harbored a shred of uncertainty regarding where you would want to go, but it appears that his worst fears were assuaged by you asserting that you wanted to stay with him.

Nikolai swallows hard. “I won’t blame you for wanting to come home.” Only myself,  you can sense him mentally adding on. It is a shame that time has not robbed you of the ability to tell what he’s thinking.

“I already am home, Nikolai.” You tell him.

He nods and leaves without another word. You watch him go, and he does not look back. Nikolai has had quite a long time to mourn your absence. Tonight may have set him back a little bit, but you have no doubt that he will recover just as he did before.

“Thank you for staying,” Kaz murmurs when Nikolai disappears from the club.

“Thank you for fighting to keep me here,” you whisper back.

Kaz’s eyes are sharp when they meet yours. “I will always fight for you.”

That, you think, is the difference between him and Nikolai in the end. Nikolai will carry your memory with him wherever he goes, but Kaz would never allow someone to take you from him in the first place. He would go to war to keep you safe. In a way, you think he already has.

You have the perfect view of Fifth Harbor from Kaz’s office window. You wonder if he planned it that way, so he could see both who was entering his life and who was leaving it. The two of you stand and watch Nikolai’s ship leave for Ravka once more. You wondered if it would hurt to see a ticket back to your place of birth evaporate from between your fingers, but it doesn’t. It’s just like you told Nikolai, isn’t it? You are already home. There is no need to leave.

requested by @zaypay, i hope you enjoy!

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @story-scribbler, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000

[futurecorps3]

Hi!! I would like to request Kaz x f!reader

I’m so sorry that this is so long and if this isn’t making any sense I can’t explain things for the life of me😭 If you do write this, thank you so much, ily :)

Anyway picture this, a reader who is quite sneaky decides that it would be very funny if she snuck a little note with something like „I live for the way you smile so brightly” into Kaz’s coat when he’s not looking. She manages and when Kaz doesn’t bring it up at all, she sneaks another note in. This continues bcs the reader just thinks Kaz is ignoring it and automatically throwing out the notes without reading them or smth. Over the time the notes get a little bit more brave like „you looked very pretty today, Brekker” and become genuine copmliments. Now i have two ideas how could the ending go. Kaz just casually mentions in a conversations with reader the sweet notes which reader is completely shocked by Or reader finds themselfs curiosly looking around Kaz’s office and stumbles upon a little box on his table. Thinking it’s gonna be some kind of jewelry she opens it and sees ALL the notes she snuck into his coat. But uhoh Kaz steps into the office and his eyes widen when he sees reader standing over the box. Reader gets flustered trying to explain what the fuck was she even doing there but is greeted by Kaz’s silence. He’s embarrased about her now knowing that he has been keeping the little notes since the very beginning ijsksjdks istg I’m going insane

𝐒𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲

Masterlist<3

Summary: The one where Y/N thinks she's being sneaky. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: None I think!! Word Count: 2.3K Requested: Yes

A/N: YES YES YES YES I LOVE THIS!!!! I wanted to use the one where he mentions it casually in a conversation but it all led to reader finding out by accident. Tysm nonnie, enjoy, I'm sorry about the huge delay. Tough couple of months, hope u understand and that I did justice to this beautiful prompt, ily2 <3

˚ · • . ° .

It all started as some stupid game. One only Y/N knew about. Everything about it was very silly, the sneaking around, coming up with what the note would say and when to put it inside his coat's pocket. The first time, the girl snuck the neatly folded paper when he excused himself to go to the restroom and left his jacket behind. Easy.

It read 'Your smile lights up the room, Brekker'. Cheesy, untrue and quite simple. She'd bet all her kruge on it, though. That bastard had a wickedly expressive smirk, so his full smile must be as sentimental as his smirk, right? Maybe her note would make him giggle in the confines of his office, maybe Kaz would burn the paper or toss it in the trashcan he so neatly kept under his desk. Truth is, Y/N didn't have an explanation or reason as to why she started all this nonsense.

The prospect of making Kaz angry or laugh even when she wouldn't witness it was probably it. The girl happened to be a sucker for the adrenaline rush of delivering her teasingly sweet notes, too. She got bolder and more creative, even getting the chance to sneak one during a job where she and Kaz had to pair up.

None of the crows knew except for Jesper, and surprisingly, he didn't tease her about it. When he caught her tucking a little pink piece of paper into the inner pocket of his boss' coat, he scoffed with a little smile and downed his whiskey glass.

"What on earth does it say and... why?" Jes smirked as Y/N returned to her seat next to him. "Not relevant, my friend. Don't snitch," "I could never, love." He laughed at his friend's eccentricities and let it slide. Another little secret shared between them wouldn't hurt nobody. Plus, her favorite sharpshooter had plenty to say when he was there to see Kaz discover the notes.

"I'm telling you, he smiled!" "Jesper, I don't care if he did," the girl giggled. She did. She cared a lot. "Kaz Brekker doesn't smile" "He did that weird upside down frown, not quite a smile, but he wasn't exactly displeased." Y/N had to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks by turning around, downing her glass of scotch. Had she really made Kaz smile? Or, somewhat, change that angry expression he seemed to keep, like it was carved carefully and perpetually on the sharp features of his face? There has to be an award to that, she thinks.

That note she remembered; there was a playful banter happening like many times before at the slat between the crows. They were all sitting down at one of the tables after a long day of kicking out pigeons upset because they lost all their money, drinks and giggles shared in a tired, dazed stupor.

"There is no way we could've made it without him. I mean, imagine me trying to carry Nina's dead-weight down two flights of stairs and out of that house." Y/N laughed as they recalled how useful Matthias turned out to be. "He's my favorite" Nina smiled, kissing the Fjerdan's cheek as he smiled proudly with a light red tint on his face (could be from the alcohol but they all knew his girlfriend made him nervous).

"And Inej, dear, I know I'm yours" the grisha teased her friend, pulling her close as the Suli girl smiled, not confirming or denying the allegations. Then Wylan, a bit tipsy and, for some reason defensive, hugged his boyfriend and declared: "Well, Jesper's my favorite," downing his glass. Jesper pulled it aside, pecking his head lovingly. "Inej's mine".

Wylan perked up from his place in Jes' arms with his mouth agape, making everyone break in laughter as the couple argued, their demo-man leaving the table with his boyfriend chasing after him trying not to laugh "Wait, dear I-I'm joking!" "No you were not! Take the couch". After they all calmed down, Matthias finally spoke. "Demjin, tell us, who's your favorite?".

Theatrical silence fell over the group. Kaz's heart sped up a little and Nina could tell, but said nothing. Then, as he scanned the group with a light smirk and his eyes lingered on Y/N for a minute longer, it sped up even more to then recede. "Oh, I know," the heartrender laughed, grabbing her glass to pour more alcohol on it. "You don't, Nina. I don't have favorites. You're all pretty solid assets," he said, voice deep and Y/N wondered how it would sound whispered in her ear.

"That's the closest we're getting to an 'I love you', guys. Hate to break it to you" Inej joked as everyone agreed. After a few more minutes, too tired to keep going, they all went to bed. Kaz woke up the next day to a note on his doorstep that said 'you're my favorite'. It was a bit different from the others he kept in his office. The letter was cursive, written in a rush on a slightly yellow piece of paper. Black ink.

"You plan on ever telling her?" A voice came from his side. Jesper stood, still in his white sleep shirt and trousers. "No one makes you smile. You should tell her, you know, at least." He was greeted by his boss's silence and the sound of his door closing.

Now, of course he knew. In fact, he figured it out after the fourth note or so, but Y/N didn't need to know that. Selfishly, he had been keeping that weird aching in his chest the girl brought all to himself for almost a year and it was getting tiring. Until he figured it out. He just hoped, to anyone who was willing to listen, that the notes weren't some joke for her.

He hoped that all those nights they spent enjoying the silence, the conversations where he'd let the wounded boy talk instead of the bastard of the barrel and she would listen attentively, almost lovingly, meant something to her. And that the notes were her way of saying 'I'm here and I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon'.

Y/N knew the game she came up with ended up being a breath of fresh air for all the compressed feelings she had for the boy. She had no problem with it. In the end, she was telling him every single thought that crossed her mind when those icy blue eyes turned into warmth when they were alone and he let his guard down. The things she knew she'd never say to Kaz's face.

Or so she thought.

It was a big coincidence, like a butterfly effect. Y/N came back from one of her many investigations (a trip to the Geldstraat to gather some information) and was walking up the stairs to Kaz's office to tell him what he found out. "Turns out you were right, he has two kids" she began, entering to an empty room. She should've left, see if he was in his room or downstairs watching the tables. Yet she didn't leave. Instead, with a heavy sigh, she sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

It gave off more of the energy from a studio rather than an office. He seemed to appreciate neatness, from the bookshelves with books arranged alphabetically to the candles placed in the appropriate places so the room could be lit perfectly at night. So, of course, she was going to notice the rectangular red box sitting messily on top of a stack of papers right in front of her.

Again, would've, could've, should've stayed in the chair. She got up and peeked. A shock ran through her body, suddenly feeling so very cold she almost turned to see if the window was open. There sat all of her notes, some a bit more used, probably from him folding and unfolding them several times. At the top was the one she sneaked just that morning; "I sometimes wonder if you think about me just as much as I do. Probably not. Have a good day, though".

A million questions running through her head. Why was he keeping them? Did he know she sent them? And most importantly, why was she so stupid!? Y/N could've just... not! Just not write those stupid notes like she had some stupid teenage crush on stupid Kaz and keep her stupid feelings to her stupid self. But no. She always had to be too much, huh? Her words and emotions spilled out of her like a river. The thing was so big it showed over her wrist.

The creek of the door. She was so inside her head she didn't hear Kaz's steps. Shit. Shit. Shit. Hoping it was her imagination playing tricks on her, she turned around. Hope died and there stood Kaz Brekker, wide-eyed and pale as a corpse. She felt like she had to say something and saints she tried, but the knot on her throat only let a choked, unintelligible sound.

It could've been hours, really. Both of them just stared at each other. Kaz was so unbelievably embarrassed he wanted to ask Jesper to just shoot him in the head to end his suffering, begging on his knees for someone to come and help him. He was never this careless, not with things like the notes. He left them out, going through them for the fourth time that week, to get a drink downstairs. How did he miss Y/N walking through the door?

"Kaz I was just here t-to uhm tell you what I found out on G-Garson. I promise I didn't mean to snoop around l-like I wasn't looking through your stuff. A-anyway who a-are these from? They're very swe-" "You don't have to pretend, Y/N."

He knew. A new dread consumed her, and she dropped her eyes to the floor as quick as humanely possible. So stupid. So stupid. "So stupid" "What?" said Kaz, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was keeping in "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry, Kaz. I-I don't know why I wrote those". Was she truly apologising to him, her head bowed in shame? For what? He looked forward to discovering one of those sweet little notes every day, wondering what kind of message she had left him this time.

Hope. He remembered the hope. Maybe he was this upset because the notes would stop now that she knew he knew? His eyes widened even more when he realized Y/N was standing right in front of him, waiting for Kaz to step out of the way so she could escape this torture. "You're right. You shouldn't have. Y-you should've just told me"

"Tell you what, Kaz?" the girl asked, taking a step back and looking straight into his eyes like he was doing. Kaz Rietveld spoke before Brekker could. "Tell me I am your favorite, that I'm on your thoughts nonstop every single fucking day, and that you consider I look lovely even with my hair in my face. If it is true, tell me right up front. I don't think I could stomach it being some crazy game, so please tell me it is real." Perplexed, she stared.

Kaz wanted it to be real, and she knew damn well it was. "You know I don't like games, Brekker. I mean it. All of it. Every single word is just me trying to catch my name in a whisper in your reactions... counting on making you smile, or at least, to temporarily jolt your thoughts from the generally dreary state they seem to be in."

He led a leather hand to grab hers, tangling their fingers with his. The boy couldn't help but notice how beautiful her eyes looked under the candlelight, warm y/e/c welcoming him home. Making him feel at ease in that saint forsaken land, knowing that with her by his side, everything seemed to be just fine.

"Y/N, since you entered my life, I have been acquainted with a new kind of light. Your presence has brought a certain innocence and laughter that I have not known before. Your character is resilient, as if it has been shaped by the hardships of this city. In my eyes, you are the embodiment of light, and I cannot help but find you lovely at all times, too"

It was a love that defied all logic and reasoning, a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space. They had each found in the other a place of serenity, a sanctuary where they could be themselves and forget the chaos of the world outside. With every passing day, their bond grew stronger, until a little piece of heaven was crafted, right there in their midst.

It was their own personal heaven, a place where they could bask in the warmth of knowing glances and brief touches, and where the mere presence of the other was enough to soothe their souls. They had found a love that whispered "I'm here" in the moments when it was necessary, a love that made a home for a broken boy and a shelter for a scarred girl who would go to the ends of the earth for him.

And as they stood there, hand in hand, they knew that they had found something special. They had found a love that was strong enough to weather any storm, a love that would see them through the trials and tribulations of life.

Together with time, they had created a world that was perfect in its imperfection, a world that was full of love, laughter, and joy. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that they had found their own personal piece of heaven on earth.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:)

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

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

[bookworm-center]

Hey! Idk if you’re still accepting requests for one shots but here it goes

Y/N was one of the crows for some time now and to everyone she always seemed happy or unfazed by the bad things.

She usually goes to the roof right in front of Kaz’s door and just sings her heart out and this time she sang her own song (The pretender by Lewis Capaldi) what she didn’t know was Kaz was listening from his desk

And maybe some fluff after she sees him? Idk

Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Fake A Smile

In which one of the Crows is not as happy and carefree as she seems.

Author's Note: Oh I am so down to do this! I am still accepting requests, I just might be a little slower than I was before. I did kinda change your request, I hope it still works. I made the lyric lines smaller since I put a lot of them. Yeah, it's sorta long cause I got carried away... So sorry this took forever!

I will be your shoulder to cry on

I will make you laugh if you need

I will play the part if you say so

Yeah, I'll be anybody but me

There's a smile plastered on Y/n's face. It's so obviously fake to anyone really paying attention, but no one notices. Not the pigeons, going about their day, not the Dregs, scamming those poor pigeons, not even the Crows, her closest friends. Kaz Brekker doesn't even notice, despite taking pride in his attention to detail. She laughs along to Jesper's jokes, however bad they are, lends a shoulder to those in pain. She plays the role of a happy, carefree Crow so perfectly that even her friends don't see through her act.

To tell you the truth, I'm a mess, I'm a fool

You don't know that

And you never will

In my mind, it's instilled not to show that

It's funny that Y/n can be so happy and kind in Ketterdam, the home of the cruel. It's funny that inside she's crumbling apart and can't risk anyone knowing. Ketterdam has engraved its cruelty into her mind, and she refused to let anyone see. Brokenness in the Barrel means weakness and Y/n wouldn't allow herself to be seen as weak.

I spend almost all of my time

Feeling like I'm falling even further behind

And I know I'm so good at seeming

Like I'm not on the edge of a knife

I'm the pretender, what can I tell ya?

Designed to deceive

So tell me who you want me to be

Thoughts circle around Y/n's head as she climbs up to the roof of the Slat. She's not Inej-sneaky, though it doesn't really matter since she's not the Wraith for a reason. Y/n's a Crow, no doubt about that, but she wasn't skilled like them. She wasn't a Grisha, wasn't a sharpshooter, wasn't druskelle. She wasn't the Wraith, wasn't a demo expert and definitely wasn't Dirtyhands. She was just... Y/n L/n. She was the ordinary in a group of extraordinary, the touch of reality to their magical fantasy.

I can wear a million faces

'Cause I don't like the one underneath

Always found it easy to fake it

Yeah, I'll be anybody but me

It takes her a little while but Y/n finally reaches the roof, and then and only then does she tear away her facade. Tears stream down her cheeks, her sobs coming loud and unbidden and all she can do is sit there and cry. Then, once the tears aren't so bad anymore, she starts singing. The words she sings are shaky and her voice cracks between every few words, but right now it doesn't matter because right now she doesn't have to be perfect. Right now, she just needs to get her emotions out in the form of the song that's been cultivating in her mind for that last few months.

To tell you the truth, I'm the fraud in the room

And I know that

But you never will

In my mind, it's instilled not to show that

Kaz hears something from the roof. As per usual, it's Y/n singing. Kaz redirects his attention back to his work but then notices the difference in Y/n's voice. It's not the usual cheery song or Kerch working tune or even an old Ravkan song Nina had taught her. This song is filled with so much heartfelt emotion and sadness and pain that Kaz can't help but listen closer. After all, he may be the Bastard of the Barrel, but he's just a man, just a human whose heart aches for the person he loves.

I spend almost all of my time

Feeling like I'm falling even further behind

And I know I'm so good at seeming

Like I'm not on the edge of a knife

I feel like everything I do is a lie

And all the words just further pull the wool over eyes

I know I'm no good at being who I am away from the light

I'm the pretender, what can I tell ya?

Designed to deceive

So tell me who you want me to be

The door to the roof slams open. Y/n quickly cuts herself off, brushes away her tears and stands. She can already tell who it is by the rap of their cane but she needs a couple of seconds to collect herself. Kaz stops beside her, looking out at the horizon rather than at her.

"Kaz! Wasn't expecting to see you here!" Y/n turns her head away, just to make sure Kaz can't see any lingering tears. "Is there a new job you need me for?" The question hangs in the air. Kaz doesn't answer, doesn't even look her way. "Kaz?"

"That song. It's a new one isn't it?" He noticed her singing. It wasn't like she'd been singing quietly, but she hadn't thought he would notice. A new one? He must have been listening every time she'd come up here and she didn't even know. Maybe he had been paying closer attention than she gave him credit for... "Y/n. What's going on?"

It takes everything Kaz has for him to even ask the question and this time Y/n is the one who doesn't answer. How can she, when this is Kaz Brekker she's talking to? Kaz Brekker, the heartless Bastard of the Barrel, the infamous Dirtyhands? He wouldn't understand.

"Y/n. Answer me."

"Why?" Y/n can't help her outburst. She's been bottling this up for far too long. "Why does it matter?"

Kaz may be good with negotiations, but he's terrible at anything emotional. "I protect my investments."

Y/n scoffs. It's so unlike the Y/n Kaz is used to, but he honestly doesn't care because at least now she isn't hiding behind a mask. "Is that all I am to you? An investment?" She almost starts to walk off when Kaz's cane blocks her path.

"You're an investment." Before Y/n can interrupt in a fit of fury, he continues talking. "To the stock market, an investment is more valuable than a treasure. To the stock market, an investment is something that keeps rising in value. To the stock market, an investment is something that means the world to them. Without an investment, the stock market would crash and burn." With every word Kaz says, every word that is practically a confession of love from his mouth, Y/n steps closer until she's in front of him.

She doesn't move too close, she knows that he isn't good with touch, but she's close enough that she can see the little golden flecks in his coffee brown eyes, close enough that she can see his lips curl into a just-barely smile. "I get the feeling we aren't talking about the actual stock market." Y/n whispers.

"No. We aren't." And to both of them, that's as close of a confession as they are going to get.

And no, this doesn't heal the hurt in either of their hearts, it doesn't make Jordie any less dead or Ketterdam any kinder, but at least now they have a little place of safety. At least now they have a place where they don't have to pretend, where they don't have to fake strength or fake a smile.

[w1shes43]

Grisaverse Masterlist

Jesper Fahey Masterlist

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Seawater (Kaz Brekker) part 2

Summary: After escaping from a trader who deals in human trafficking Ira finds herself drowning in more than just the ocean. When she thinks she's going to die - She stares into the endless depths of the Leader of the Crow Club and suddenly she is drowning in more than just the sea.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Oc

Warnings: Mention of SA, Angst, Slight Kaz Brekker OOC?

A/N: I have never read any of the books but have seen most of the show; it had been a while back but I hope I do this one-shot justice. I've revisited the show again so I wanted to write something.

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Part 1 here

She was crying. She was screaming; beating at the man with everything she had but the man wouldn't budge. Like a boulder with the mind of a bull. She hurt and no matter how much her voice raised in protest he wouldn't stop. They never do. They come and they go; using her up and throwing her away like an old rag once their money's worth was spent. And she'd be left alone, cold, and feeling as if no amount of soap, baths, or even the damned holy water of a priest would cleanse her body or mind from the horrors she endured. She saw the figure looming above her with that familiar glint in his eye that she'd come to know real well as he bounced a bag of Kruge in his palm while he leered at her.

"I think I'll keep yah gurl. You're worth more than I paid for yah."

And then she was screaming. Screaming bloody murder as he walked away. The terror she'd never felt before now tearing into her like hot iron when she realized she'd never escape this man. This hellhole just wouldn't let go of her; whatever shred of hope or light she had snuffed out in that one sentence. Her fist banged against the dirty floor as her sobs echoed in the dark and dank room she'd been held in for the last few years. Her saints have forsaken her now and she was alone.

~

Hands gripped her and it felt as if spiders crawled along her skin. She screamed out a broken sob as she fought with all the desperation she had in her body. She hated the feeling. She hated it so much; the feel of their skin along her own. Were they trying to hurt her? Were they going to use her like so countless others have? She wouldn't let them! She'd die before she'd let a man use her ever again!

"Hey! Calm down, it's alright. You're safe! You're alright little dove!"

The words were spoken frantically as hands grappled hers that flailed; smacking and shoving as if fighting off an offender. And then her eyes opened; they blurred and unfocused around the dimness of the room. So sparsely decorated with a single bed, a desk by a window, and a large trunk of drawers at the foot of her bed. A nightstand sat beside her bed where a single candlelight illuminated her surroundings only a few feet around her and for a moment her foggy brain thought she was back in that godforsaken cell.

But then the scent of familiar spice came on a shaky inhale into her lungs and rewired her brain. Citrus-like lemons, heady spice-like cinnamon, and the familiar gunpowder smoke. Each descriptive scent played on a loop in her head until her mind cleared and she slumped back into the man's arms like a dead weight.

Jesper.

It was only Jesper. Jesper wouldn't harm her. Jesper was safe. She was safe, Jesper was here with her. She repeated those words over and over in her head like a mantra as she tried to steady her frantic heartbeat. A pair of familiar bronze-colored hands hesitated as they released her arms that had been pinned in an X against her chest to keep her from flailing and instead slowly released her completely allowing the girl to pull her body from where it leaned against his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered closing her eyes. "I just - I thought-"

"It was just a nightmare." Jesper assured softly with a smile that slowly bloomed with a hesitant reassurance as brown eyes watched warily while the girl shifted to lean against the headboard; pulling the pillar in front of her and hugging it close as if shielding herself.

She looked down at her shaking hands as they gripped the pillow to her and they clenched even tighter still until her knuckles turned white and she had to bury her nose into the fabric to ground herself; inhaling the scent of the soap used to wash them - grateful beyond words when they smelled crisp and clean instead of the musty scent of that disgusting cell she'd been left to rot in.

She knew Jesper wouldn't hurt her but she was still so skittish when it came to trusting others - let alone allowing physical contact. It had taken her so long just to gather to courage to be in the same room as the man and it was only because he was the one to have jumped over that banister into the cold water to save her from drowning after the Heartrender stopped her heart. She'd owed him that much at least.

She was grateful that Jesper knew his limits, though. He'd seen the terror in her eyes on the most animalistic level that had his gut-wrenching to imagine what she'd been through to have such a reaction to a man so close to her. Ira didn't like to be touched; a fact clear as day and a thing he'd respected because she was not the only one in Jesper's circle that abhorred physical contact. The only difference was that he knew in his gut her reasoning.

He'd liked to think he earned a scrap of her trust - to allow him anywhere near her. Even in her two weeks of living with the Crows, it had been an uphill battle. It was so evident that Ira was still a girl who had lost much and Jesper found himself needing to protect her like a little sister. She wasn't particularly close with any of them but besides Jesper, the only one who'd given her any resemblance of comfort was Inej because she was a woman who had been through similar events as Ira herself. The brilliant thing about how Ira thought was how she could sense the intent in a person before she interacted with them; a trait she no doubt had learned through countless years of trauma. That trauma reflected in her eyes but he was not a blind man - more observant than people gave him credit for and he was ever grateful that he'd allowed her this closeness; little as it was right now, to allow him to stay close to her.

Then there was Kaz. Jesper couldn't wrap his head around the tension in the room whenever Ira and Kaz faced off. As if two wary animals stood on either side of the room wary of the other and hackles raised. Ira and Kaz Brekker were similar in their mistrust of people and of their touch aversion you'd think they would be on the same page. But it was as if they walked on eggshells around each other.

"D-did you just come back from another job?" Ira's big green eyes focused on the sharpshooter who looked as if he was out in thought again while he sat at the edge of her bed.

He blinked at her and gave her that ever-charming smile. "Why would you say that?"

Ira made a show of leaning over and dramatically sniffing him before her nose began to scrunch up and she pulled away. "Because you stink like you haven't bathed in a week!"

"My pride is wounded! I always smell nice!" Jesper's brown eyes widened in equal dramatization as he clasp a hand to his heart.

He wouldn't deny the fact that he felt such warmth in his heart whenever Ira had to courage to actually play like that with him regarding her past with men. She was starting to warm up to him at least and he felt such relief from that; it gave him the courage to push just a little bit to see her smile.

"I'm fine Jesper. Maybe going a little stir-crazy being locked away in this room all day...I've been reading the same two books for the past week." she gave a little shrug as she played with a string sticking from the blanket across her lap.

She knew she wasn't a prisoner here at the Slat. Inej would visit her when she wasn't scouting jobs. Jesper would pop in every few hours to check in on her and bring her food; the mother hen that he argued he wasn't. She'd only ever had one visit from Kaz a few days after she'd woken up in this room and it was a tense affair to be sure. He never did stop by again; any messages were sent to the more agreeable of his crows - he never sent one of his Dregs though, a fact that Ira had taken notice of and felt a small shred of gratefulness and respect for the boss man.

"Why don't you go upstairs to ask for another book from Kaz? I'm sure the boss man won't mind! He won't even miss it with how much work he buries himself in. If you take a look at his shelves you'd find those poor spines have more dust on them than an abandoned church." Jesper leaned back on his hands and looked over at her with a teasing smirk.

Ira didn't laugh at his joke even if her lip tipped ever so slightly upward to show her amusement. She did look up at him though after a moment but he could see the way her body tensed at the very notion of leaving this room to go see him. Kaz had done nothing to make her distrust him. Perhaps it was the dominating or cold look he always wore that made her wary of him but Jesper knew she didn't like going near the man in black.

"If you could-" Ira swallowed thickly but was unable to finish her request.

Jesper fell back on one elbow and craned his head to meet her green eyes as his own softened on her face.

"He won't hurt you Ira. No one will hurt you again. Never. "

"I know."

But did she? She was so scared of everyone; less fearful of women but like a caged animal who fell back on its primal instinct for survival she couldn't find it in herself to try and trust anyone knew. Kaz was like the dark figure in the corner of her eye she feared to turn her head to look at in case those piercing blue eyes and that crow-shaped cane would be there waiting to lash out at her.

"It's okay, whenever you're ready. I'm going to go hop on some tables and gamble away more of Kaz's money." he patted the bed between them and gave her a playful wink before he was up and heading for the door.

"So if you need me-"

"I'll holler." she finished for him. A statement of assurance they both needed as much as it was a routine. Her lips curled just a tad more as he shot him a look.

"Thanks Jesper."

"Anytime, little dove." the door snapped closed with a flurry as he left.

~

It was late - she could tell with the pitch darkness outside of her window but it didn't matter; her inner clockworks were all out of sorts. She slept when she wanted to, ate when she needed, and stayed up whenever she couldn't sleep regardless of the time of night or day. Hours after Jesper vacated her space she lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling with the book she'd been reading laid across her chest. She could hear the droll of the patrons at the Slat in the deafening silence in her room and she suddenly felt as if she was no longer alone. Knowing that just below her feet were dozens of men. Even when her door was locked from within she still feared the unknown below her.

So, she did what she didn't do often enough. Crawling from the bed she dressed in her a pair of slacks and her button-down shirt Inej had left for her; tucking the hem into her pants before slipping on her boots. She wished she had some weaponry to defend herself with if needed or at least have a dagger hidden on her to make her feel safer; instead, she armed herself with the two books she'd held hostage for the past week and with the familiar weight of them in her arms, Ira left her room - locking it securely behind her before she was heading towards a set of stairs down the hallway towards the attic where she knew the owner of the Slat and masterminds behind The Crows resided in his office/bedroom.

She was grateful when she no longer heard the sound of men's voices behind her as she finally stood in front of the door she had only ever once been standing at. Her knuckles wrapped lightly on the wood before a voice called for her to enter. She opened it just enough for her to slip through before closing. She never trusted an open door to allow anyone else to slip behind her unaware.

Kaz sat at his desk; right where she imagined he'd never felt most of his day. He looked up at her - and she froze like a deer in the headlights of a car. That familiar intensity of his cold blue eyes and sharp cheekbones would cause any other person to feel fear but Ira only felt tense; perhaps a little fear but she had to remind herself what Jesper said - Kaz would never harm her.

He was studying her without a word and she stared right back until those blue eyes were too much and she had to drop her head to avoid it; god those blue eyes had gotten her every time. So guarded and cold but if she had the strength to look deeper into his expression she'd have caught the minuscule of details. But it was just a little flicker in his eyes and the way his head tilted just a centimeter that gave him away to a sense of mild concern and curiosity as he dropped his head back down to his paperwork.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief when he no longer stared at her; the feeling of pinpricks easing from her skin and she took this as her invitation to stay. The flame of the candlelight flickering around the room cast shadows as she stepped up to a bookshelf off to the side of the room. She was not facing him but she could feel his intense stare whenever he glanced up at her watching as her hands visibly shook while she began placing the books where she'd imagined they went on the shelf.

"What is it?" his voice startled her despite the softness of his tone - it sounded larger than the familiar gunshots of Jesper's guns and Ira dropped one of the books at the sound before spinning around to stare at him. That familiar sense of danger urged her to run but Kaz never left his position at his desk; instead, he was openly staring her down.

"I-I'm sorry?" she stuttered out feeling her breath come in sharp inhales as she prayed for the panic to keep at bay.

But Kaz said nothing about her reaction and instead gave her a hard stare before setting his pen down to give her his undivided attention. That was never good when he did that and Ira knew this; she hated being pinned under men's stares. She bent down to grab the fallen book and fiddled with the edges to stop her nerves as she looked anywhere but at the man.

"You don't come up here. I'm surprised to see you out of the room."

Ira breathed out a shaky laugh and crossed her arms; hugging the book to her chest. "That's what Jesper said but he encouraged me to come up here because I'd finished the books...I-I mean I'm just returning them to you. Jesper didn't want to do it for me so he-"

"Ira."

her mouth clicked shut and she swallowed casting her eyes down to her boots. They had ever interacted once upon her first initial night awake at the Slat and he knew he made her nervous so he was trying not to be too cold towards her. Not yet; he didn't trust her but he understood her story now thanks to Inej and Jesper's interjections. He reached to grab the cane at his side and tapped it against the floor twice to get her attention; the sound made her flinch but her attention was drawn to him all the same.

"Sit down Ira. We have a business to discuss."