#grishaverse oneshots

[bookworm-center]

I have a request for a Kaz Brekker au/one shot (whatever u see better fit)

Where the crow club usually as a singer on friday nights but the singer had to cancel last minute so seeing the “panic” on the other crows and crew Y/N steps up and sings even tho nobody knew she could sing and when Kaz hears it and sees her he just gets lost in her voice…

I hope this is a good idea haha

Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Unsung Duet

In which Kaz's partner in crime steps up to sing.

Author's Note: Ooh, I love this request! I'm twisting it slightly but not too much; I hope that's okay! I wasn't sure if you wanted a specific song, so I went with "Six of Crows" by Gio Navas. Such a good song that's obviously inspired by the book, you should definitely listen to it. This ended up being shorter than I wanted, but I think it's not bad.

Panic floods the Crow Club in hushed whispers. The usual Friday night singer cancelled? People begin to leave, shoving their way out of the small doorway.

Kaz's panic isn't shown on his features- he's good enough at his job to know panicking is a weakness- but the other Dregs are rushing about. Rotty says something about too many people leaving, but Kaz is too busy working out a plan to respond.

Claps come from the stage, quiet and slow at first, but gradually growing. Then comes the singing.

This is a city of toxic smoke

We trade our lungs for a noose of rope

Under our feet and the tilted ground

Runaways of ashes never found

People turn around, coming back in and filling up all the seats and tables. Kaz looks up from his glass, to the singer that's taken the stage. There stands none other than his partner in crime. Y/n L/n, master of tricks. He had never heard her sing, never even knew she could, despite his reputation for knowing everything. Her eyes are closed at first, like she's trying to lose herself in the music.

Here is where the monsters hide

Only the wicked can survive

With every line, every rise and fall of the melody, every held note, Y/n gains a little more confidence. She taps her feet on the wood of the platform they call a stage.

And just like that, Kaz, along with the patrons in the Club, are swept away by her voice. There's something about the way she sings that's so enchanting and enticing, almost like a pull of unseeable magic. Her and Kaz only make eye contact once, when the song is nearly over.

A boy with a broken soul

Marching through this world alone

He fights among the cursed six of crows

Where is his heart, he may never know, never know

And that's it. The crowd bursts into applause, demanding for an encore as Y/n walks off the stage. Kaz hadn't even noticed she was finished singing, not until the bartender called his name several times.

He knew the last verse was about him. Y/n had been his best friend, his other half, his partner in crime, for so long, that they were nearly one person. She knew nearly everything about him, and he for her.

The last line gets him thinking: where is his heart?

Easy. His heart is set on revenge. It's set on destroying Pekka Rollins, ruining everything he built.

There's another response, further back in his head, in the part of him that was still Kaz Reitveld. His heart was with Y/n.

After all, they were the halves to a whole, the sun and the moon. Together they were perfect clockwork, chiming together to pull off the perfect heist.

His heart was with Y/n, his unsung duet.

[heliads]

You and Me (A Whole Lot of History)

Based on this request: "y/n is a historian with access to old schematics so kaz hires her for a job. he keeps inventing reasons to find her afterwards until he’s forced to admit his feelings"

masterlist

You only get to study about half a chapter of your textbook before you’re interrupted by a criminal. It’s not like you mind having to put down the heavy tome you’ve been leafing through; estate law of centuries past is not your idea of some fun light reading, but you’ve been helping to piece together some fragments of an old mansion from pre-Unsea Kerch, and you’d really like to be able to decide if the master of the house your tattered documents keep referring to is the eldest son or the second eldest. 

It all depends on very specific details that refuse to make themselves known to you. So no, having an excuse to stop all this isn’t terrible, you’re just a little distracted by the fact that you’re in a private study room in the historical library of Ketterdam, and you know for certain that you locked the door that has just been opened.

You know who’s just broken into your study space. Not personally, that is, but just as well as any resident of the Barrel knows the one they call Dirtyhands– through bated breath, in stolen whispers of expensive heists and bodies left behind, no traitors tolerated and none allowed to live. The fact that Kaz Brekker has taken it upon himself to enter your study room of all the empty ones still available in the library is not promising, to say the least, although you have absolutely no idea what you’ve done to appear on his radar.

You are, in fact, quite possibly the last person Kaz would even be aware of. You’re a historian, specializing in a few select centuries and powerful families in the Kerch area. This means that you spend most of your time in old and crumbling buildings, not out in shady dealings or shootouts or any of the other places Brekker tends to frequent.

This doesn’t seem to stop Kaz from closing the door behind him and taking a seat opposite your desk. He folds his hands in front of him, idly contemplating the textbook you’re still supposed to be perusing, but remains frustratingly silent.

It falls to you, then, to pick up a conversation, which is unfair considering the fact that he’s the one who’s barged in on your space. “That door was locked for a reason, you know,” you point out.

Kaz arches a dour brow. “Yes. I opened it.”

He’s not making this easy for you. “Why?” You ask.

Instead of answering you, Brekker jerks his chin towards the book in front of you. “What’s that about?”

There is no earthly reason one of the most notorious gang leaders in the Barrel should be asking about the homework you’re doing for your job. Still, he has, so you must answer, no matter how confused you are about it. “Inheritance disputes of the fourteenth century Kerch nobles. Why, are you interested in checking it out after me?”

Kaz scoffs. “No. I just want your information, not that book.”

You feel yourself leaning back slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Trust me, whatever information you’re after won’t be found from me.”

Kaz shakes his head once. “No, actually, I think it will be.”

He reaches for something under his coat, and you’re hit with the brief terror that he’ll get a gun or something and you’ll die here and now, but then his gloved hand comes back out into the light carefully holding a rolled up piece of paper, which he smooths out onto the desk before you. You tuck your textbook away so you can get a better look at the thing, more curious now than afraid.

It turns out to be a copy of house blueprints. As you study it, you realize that you recognize the place. You were there recently for a project for your employer, checking up on the preservation of a few rooms. “Is this the old van Haarst mansion?” 

Brekker’s eyes flash, reminding you of the slick of oil on water. “You know about it?”

“Yeah,” you say, peering further at the blueprints. “I’ve worked there before.”

Kaz nods, looking pleased. “I’d like to buy your services. I need information on this building and your silence on the matter. Are you interested?”

Your brow furrows. “What information do you need?”

To answer you, Brekker tosses a stack of kruge onto the table. You can see the numbers on the edges, and know even without counting that this payment will be far more than what you’d earn even for a year at your job. This is the deal, then. He’ll only tell you more if you accept his money, and if you accept his money, you agree to whatever he wants.

Honestly, not the worst bargain. Ghezen knows you’ve had worse supervisors on other jobs. At least you can trust Brekker to be honest so long as you are too.

You put the stack of bills into your bag, and turn back to the blueprints with renewed interest. “Are you trying to get in or get out?”

“Both,” Kaz tells you. “I’m assuming you’ve heard rumors of Marysa’s Diamond?”

You choke out a laugh. “Have I ever.”

Marysa’s Diamond is like the Saints in flesh for historians. The van Haarst family was exceedingly rich, and one of their matriarchs, Marysa van Haarst, was said to be in possession of an incredible gemstone, the diamond named after her. It disappeared when the family abandoned Kerch for Ravka following the death of three of Marysa’s sons, and no one has seen it since.

You blow out a low breath. “You think it’s in the old house somewhere? Historians have been all over the place, we would have found it if it was there.”

“It wasn’t always,” Kaz tells you. “It’s been moved there. I have good information that the van Haarst house will act as a safe house for the stone while it’s being moved from hand to hand. They’ll keep it there overnight. I will be entering the estate with a team and taking it.”

He goes silent, as if waiting for any objections. You don’t really care about the morals of the affair, though. You have your money and you get to be the foremost expert on a historical favorite of yours. Robberies happen every day, not something to get teary eyed over.

When you don’t speak up, Kaz continues on. “They’ll be keeping the stone in a place no one can find. There will be a window of exactly one bell in which the old owner leaves the house and is replaced by the new owner, carefully staggered so the stadwatch aren’t alerted by too many people in the estate after hours. That means it would have to be a damn good hiding spot. If you were hiding a gemstone in this house, where would you put it?”

You consider the blueprints before you again. There are a thousand and one places you could hide something in there– tucked inside the grand piano, in a safe, under one of a hundred carpets– and there’s no way Brekker’s men could find it in time.

However, that means the person meant to be picking up the diamond wouldn’t be able to find it as well. They would have to find somewhere in the estate hidden to everyone else but the recipient of the gemstone.

The answer occurs to you in a flash. “Oh,” you say, “Secret room.”

Brekker blinks at you. “What?”

You point at the map. “It’s totally going in the secret room. I mean, they don’t want it to be found by anyone else, right? That’s, like, the whole point of a secret room.”

Were it not for the fact that he’s, well, Dirtyhands, you’d swear his voice turns sarcastic. “That was my understanding of a secret room, yes. Where is it?”

Were it not for the fact that he is in fact Dirtyhands, you would roll your eyes. “There’s an entrance off of the secondary hallway leading off of the dining room. Unlock the door using a little latch under the bottom of the ugly painting of the old duchess of Belendt.”

He stares at you. “How do you know that? It’s not on any map.”

You lift a shoulder. “I wanted to know why they’d keep such a foul portrait around. The elites of that time period were huge on perfectionism, every one of their paintings had to be absolutely glorious or it would get removed from their sight. That’s why there are so many old paintings in the surrounding villages, actually, the nobles would just leave these expensive oil paintings outside the castle because they couldn’t take the sight of them anymore. There was no reason they’d let such a dreadful portrait stay unless it was hiding something.”

You had been focused on the map in your hands during the majority of this little speech, fondly recalling little anecdotes from your history classes, but you remember yourself soon enough. You look up and Kaz is staring at you, almost fascinated.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Got distracted.”

He shakes his head brusquely, although there’s a hint of pink on the tops of his cheekbones that wasn’t there before. “No, no. It’s important information. So we should be aware of any suspicious paintings?”

“Yeah,” you muse, “just look for the bad ones. Pretend you’re an art critic or something.”

The edges of Kaz’s dour glare turn themselves up into something of a humored smirk. “Will do. Thank you for the advice, L/N.”

You nod. “Have fun with the heist. Hey, if you see any older books on the history of the family, would you mind grabbing one or two for me? I’ve been trying to do some research for ages, but the library keeps stalling on getting resources to me, no matter how many requests I send.”

Kaz’s brows draw close together. “That would be unbelievably risky. We can’t take more things than we need or we could be caught.”

You grin. “I know, I’m kidding. Just a joke.”

Kaz’s expression lightens microscopically. “Yes, a joke.”

He leaves soon enough, pushing his chair away from the desk and rolling up the blueprints with a crisp snap of the paper. He warns you to keep your mouth shut about the plans, but you’re not sure that he does it with the fire you expected of a notorious gang leader. Instead, the words are soft, like he’s cautioning a friend.

You don’t hear from him again, not for a while. You’re not sure when this mysterious diamond deal is going down, and you doubt the unlucky men Kaz will grift can go to the stadwatch about this. In fact, you have no idea if it’s happened at all until about a week later. You had gone about your day like normal, not suspecting a thing until the moment you unlocked your door.

And there, centered perfectly on your desk when you get back home despite the fact that you never gave keys to your apartment to anyone, are three books. Aged, cracked covers, gilded writing. You hesitantly pick up one and read the title under your breath:  A History of the Bendtsen Family, 1200-1500. Another:  The van Almelos of the Belendt Region:  Two Centuries of Political and Economic Legacy.

Kaz. He actually got the books. Never mind that you were joking, never mind that he knew that, Kaz Brekker went out of his way to risk a heist just so he could help you out with a research project. Saints. And they say chivalry is dead.

You don’t expect to get the chance to thank him for it until he randomly crosses your path not two weeks later. He’s alone again, miraculously turning up outside your company door just as you leave to walk home. Kaz informs you that he’ll need your services again, exchanging some kruge for more words. This time, he wants details on an office building down the street, one that used to be a city hall. You’re able to take him in yourself thanks to access granted to all historians for historic places, and turn a blind eye when he grabs a few documents regarding interport commerce.

He walked you to your door that night, lingering over the threshold like a teenager not wanting to leave a first date. He shows up again after a month, using an excuse that’s less polished and more finicky. The next time, he doesn’t have an excuse at all. It’s just him, standing in front of you. No money, no plan. He just wanted to see you.

Kaz calls it ‘checking up on an investment,’ but you get the feeling that it’s not something he usually does. He walks with you by the water, he buys you drinks at a bar not even in his own pocket. It’s unusually sweet, so you can’t bite back your questions anymore and confront him about it when he hovers in front of your door for the dozenth time.

“What is this about, Kaz?”

He blinks at you in surprise. “What?”

You gesture between the two of you. “All of this. This isn’t for a job anymore. Why?”

Kaz looks away. It’s rare for him to not have a perfect poker face. Perhaps it’s yet another sign that this means something more, something that you can’t help but wish for. “I wanted to make sure you were safe. I’ve called on you for several jobs that can risk the players involved in the game.”

You shake your head. “You’ve gone out of your way to make sure no one knows about me. It’s just us, Kaz. You did that on purpose.”

“Yes,” he admits at last, “I did. I wanted something for myself. Something that wasn’t as bad as the rest.”

He risks a glance over at you, and his shoulders square slightly when he realizes you aren’t trying to fight him on this, or worse, leave. “You’re good, Y/N. Good things don’t last long around here. I want to make sure you do. I want you to stay forever.”

With me, he means. He wants to keep you in his life. His eyes flicker to your hands, and although you know he won’t take them, not yet, he wants to. That’s why you finally put together the pieces. Kaz Brekker is not good at verbalizing his feelings. Perhaps he never will be. This is the best shot he can give you, and he could not even say the word ‘love’ if it ripped his heart out with bleeding fingertips.

You've had so much over the years, and it has never been enough. Not once, not ever. A thousand coffers could empty themselves, a hundred men die and be reborn. It has never once stopped you. This, by contrast, is nothing. A canal rat's promise, most likely broken before the night is through. You know it, Kaz knows it. This is nothing. 

Yet it is the most true thing you have ever had, the one solid stone in a wall about to come crumbling down. It is small, barely there at all, but still worth it. Maybe that is why you stay, for the hope. For him. It is enough.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @deadreaderssociety, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @eclliipsed, @mayfieldss, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy

[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.

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 2❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Written with sounds of: Chemtrails over the country club - Lana Del Rey Word Count: 3,5 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @budugu ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

Sneeze. You blow your nose into your handkerchief as quietly as you can and go back to writing. Another sneeze. You watch the tent flap out of the corner of your eye, ready for his return at any moment.

You caught a cold. Probably because you fell into a snowdrift with him and had… a moment there. You'd probably rather avoid all this. At least your heart wouldn't beat stupidly every time you were in his presence. And the stuffy nose and scratchy throat were just an irritating addition to your misery.

You sneeze loudly just as you hear his heavy-booted footsteps entering his tent. You mentally curse and close your eyes. You hear him brush the snow off his clothes before he stands still as he notices you. His burning gaze on your back almost makes you feel a little warmer.

"I'd like to say that I have right, but you look so poorly that even Ivan wouldn't have the heart to tell you that. Explain to me, in the name of the saints, what you are doing here instead of warming yourself by the fire wrapped in a blanket, preferably with a healer who will help you get out of this?" he asks, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose at the pile of used tissues next to you.

"We ungrouped. Zoya took everyone with her except Fedyor, Mal, and Alina and went on looking for the stag." you grumble, pulling your coat tighter around you. "Besides, I haven't finished these papers."

"Why the hell did the tracker stay here instead of going with them?"

You shrug. "I guess he doesn't get along with Zoya. He said the stag got scared and found a hiding place to wait out the worst of the snow. He says we'll try again in a week, when it will stop snowing a little bit. I'm not surprised. If I were him, I'd also rather go back to the castle than chase the stag in the beginning of the raw winter."

"If you were him, we would have had a stag's bones in the Little Palace long ago, ready to be used when Alina mastered her powers. Besides, the boy distracts her. Not only does he delay our hunting, he also delays her training and doesn't let her use her full potential."

Jealousy settles unpleasantly inside you, digging a hole in your stomach. You should get used to it. Eventually, he and Alina will end up together one day and make a great couple. Sun and shadows. Light and darkness. Day and night. And other poetic shit like that. They were soulmates. One of a kind. No one could deny it.

"Maybe you're not as good a teacher as Baghra after all?" you say teasingly, trying to enjoy all the attention he was still showing you... at least until he realises that Alina is… extraordinary and is much more worthy of the position by his side. As his second-in-command, right hand, or… even someone much more, you could ever be to him.

"And you against me? My own deputy?" he snorts and walks over to the fire in the centre of the tent. You see the smirk stretch across his lips, and it instantly warms you, even before he even lights the fire.

"Baghra is specific, to say the least, but she is great at what she does. I don't know many people who would ever lose control of their powers after training with her."

"Believe me, I know such people…" he says thoughtfully. He stops lighting the fire and stares at the tinder in his hands. You feel the tension in his muscles and the quickening of his heartbeat as another of his memories comes flooding back to him.

Your heart clenches with grief and sympathy as you see his eyes darken under the heavy flashback. Without thinking, you walk up to him and take the tinder from his hand to light the fire yourself.

"When I was little, my brothers liked to camp in the forest and in the fields. We played soldiers who go to war and have to spend the night with only a sleeping bag and a tent. We had to find the rest ourselves. Our mother had a heart attack more than once when we returned late in the afternoon, dirty, freezing, and starving, but with such big smiles on her face that she didn't even shout at us. She left it to her father." you laughed as the first flames engulfed the logs in the fire.

"What happened to them?"

You're shaking. At first, you don't want to answer his question, but when you look up and see his gaze fixed on you, those dark eyes, so interested in you, you just... melt. Your heart is too weak to let this moment of his attention slip through your fingers.

"Fjerdans. They attacked my village and killed my parents. My siblings and I went to live with our grandparents, and a year later we were tested for Grishas. Only I was. They kicked me out of the house so quickly that I didn't even have time to pack. They did it themselves. My youngest brother took pity on me enough to put his stuffed animal in my bag. As a keepsake. We write to each other. I actually only keep in touch with him. But it's always better than being alone."

"You are not alone." he says it quickly, before he can even process your words, and places his hand on your shoulder, stroking it tenderly. "You... will never be alone, Y/N." he says with such confidence and tone of voice as if it was a promise he would never break.

He looked at you many times, but now. You feel something new in his gaze. A certain kind of tenderness, understanding, need for protection. And you bask in this feeling, as if in the glow of the warmest fire. The fire next to you isn't half as warm as his gaze on you and the touch you feel on your skin even under the layers of clothes you're wearing.

"I... I know." you whisper, hypnotized by the deep gaze of his dark eyes. "I have Fedyor, Genya, David, Alina. You. I found myself a new family. Maybe it's better to be nobody's daughter."

"No one will hurt you like your own family will." he sighs, nodding.

The crackle of burning wood is the only thing that can be heard in the silence that has fallen between you. His hand gradually moves from your shoulder to your neck, where he strokes your cold skin with his thumb, making you shiver.

"You're cold. We should warm you up. Where are your gloves and scarf?" he asks, shaking off the moment between you.

You feel him tense again and go to his bed to grab a black fur blanket and wrap it around you. You blush slightly, enveloped in his warmth and scent. You thank all the saints that he can't hear your heart beating fast… unless he felt your pulse when he caressed your neck with his thumb. Then you are fucked up.

"I left it in my tent. I was in a hurry to get here. I wanted to finish the paperwork as quickly as I could so as not to infect you." he laughs at your words and you frown, not knowing what's so funny.

"I don't get sick, milaya. Get some sleep. Maybe the tracker is skilled enough to track down an animal for dinner. I'll come back with some soup for you. Rest. General's order. I need my deputy to be fully healthy and ready to fulfil her duties. I believe the king will want to call a council as soon as we return."

He throws a pillow at you, which you catch, and he walks out of the tent, leaving you shocked and a little puzzled next to the fire. You immediately feel warmer, and the runny nose bothers you a little less as you allow yourself to lie down. Wrapped in its warmth and scent, you fall asleep ridiculously quickly. Your dreams are filled with him... warming you up in a completely different, more pleasant way.

You don't know how much time passes. You wake up feeling a little better. You look around the tent in a daze, remembering how you got here. The fire still burns, still warming you, but not like a warm blanket and coat. Their black, dark colour clearly indicates their owner.

The smell of something delicious fills your nostrils. Your mouth waters as you look at the huge bowl of warm soup.

"Why is it not a wonder for me that the only thing that can wake you up is food?" you hear his amused voice. You turn towards him. He is sitting at his desk; a candle is lit as he writes something. He lifts his head for a moment and gives you a quick glance. "Eat. You'll feel better."

You take the bowl, and after the first spoonful, you groan at the taste of the soup. "How come this is good? Our supply of spices is long gone; how did you season it?"

He can't help but laugh. He puts down his pen and leans back in his chair, looking at you, curled up in his blankets and coat by the fire. A strange feeling warms him from the inside, seeing you so... at home with him, and if it weren't for your wheezing and red nose, he would have no qualms about enjoying the sight. But he knew you were only here because you were sick, and his care was helpful. No one would willingly stay with him. No one has ever done this...

"I haven't lived in a palace all my life, Y/N. I know how to take care of myself in all circumstances."

"How bad will it be if I say this is better than what you feed us in the Little Palace?" you ask, wolfing down the soup. Somehow he can't help but giggle. The heat inside him continues to grow… maybe you were able to infect him after all?

"Do not get used to it. This special treatment ends when you stop making sounds with your nose with every breath you take. Besides, you snore, colonel." he says it with complete seriousness, but even he isn't strong enough to hide the mischievous smirk that appears on his lips as he watches the growing outrage and embarrassment on your face.

"I am not!" you say it indignantly and throw his pillow at him.

He catches it gracefully with a smirk and throws it next to you, far enough away that you can't reach for it without moving. You moan, but don't change your position. You're too blissfully warm to do that.

"Move up. You can't be in one position all the time. You'll get stiff."

"Won't you massage me, general?" you ask flirtatiously. Your behaviour surprises both you and him, but for some reason, your filter is off. You say what you think, and you don't hold anything back... you also feel very hot, which is both pleasant and a bit bothersome.

"Do not cross the border. I'm not your nurse."

"Shame." you say briefly and put the bowl aside. He watches you carefully, noticing that your movements are a little less coordinated.

He walks over to you. He places his hand on your forehead and frowns. "You're burning. We should take these layers off of you."

"As much as some women would like you to undress them, right now it's not something I want."

"Y/N." he speaks to you calmly and gently, like to a child. "You have a fever. You can't be too warm, or it will only make things worse. I'll bring you some water, and when I come back I want to see you out of this cocoon."

"And who are you, my father?" you huff, crossing your arms and tightening your grip on the blanket.

"No. I am much more. I am... your general. So do what I say."

You roll your eyes at him. Your defiant attitude would have done all kinds of... inappropriate things to him if it weren't for the fact that his main concern right now was your health. That's why he doesn't play and argue with you any longer. He takes you into his arms in one confident, sweeping movement. You squeal in shock, clinging to him, afraid he'll drop you. The blanket and coat fall off you, leaving you only in your red kefta.

"No! It's cold!" you struggle with him in his arms.

He allows you to fight him enough to stand on the ground on your own two feet, but you're still trapped in his grip. You probably would have struggled with him for a while longer (until you had completely exhausted your energy), but you both froze in place when you heard a soft grunt coming from the entrance to his tent.

"Um... general?" Fedyor looks at the two of you confused. "I have that medicines you asked about." you frown at the fact that he sent him to the village to get medicine for you. "Mal also went with the list to Ivan. They will be here with a healer the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Good, Fedyor. Well done. Leave these medications and get out of here. You are letting the cold in." he says, clearing his throat. Fedyor smiles at his reaction, clearly hearing his rapid heartbeat.

"Yes, sir." He puts the medicines on the table. "I would wish you a speedy recovery, Y/N, but under these conditions, I don't think it's really necessary. Good night." he says this and runs away from there, no longer exposing himself to the general's angry look.

He doesn't stay mad for very long. His thoughts of punishing Fedyor for his insolence quickly disappear when he hears your coughing. He looks at you tenderly and leads you to his bed.

"Here." he whispers and hands you a glass with some strange brown liquid in it.

"Aleksander, I can't drink alcohol in this state." you grumble and snuggle into his quilt, trying to create a cocoon of warmth around you again.

But he won't let you. Which is met with great protest from you.

He grabs your arms and moves you so you're leaning against the headboard of his bed, sitting down, handing you a glass, and glaring at you as he sits across from you, watching you closely. He would make you shiver if the fever didn't already make you tremble.

"Drink it. That's herb. It will help." you look at the glass warily. "What's wrong again?"

"Herbs are bitter. I don't want to drink it." you say angrily and put the glass with that damned thing on the nightstand.

"Your general is ordering you to do it. Drink." he says firmly, pushing the glass to your mouth. You purse your lips, glaring at him defiantly, at which he sighs.

If you were anyone else, he would have abandoned you a long time ago. He would leave you alone to maybe die, and he wouldn't think twice about you.

But you were his Y/N.

It changed everything. And he was terrified about how far he would go for you. There were no things he wouldn't do on your behalf—for your happiness, for your safety—only for seeing that disarming smile that lit up his centuries-worn, dark soul.

"Y/N." he whispers softly, stroking your hair. At the same time, he checks your temperature with his hand.

He frowns and presses a kiss on your forehead, cupping your cheeks with both hands. The glass is long forgotten on the nightstand as he presses his lips against your skin.

He would moan at the feeling of your silky, soft skin if you didn't have a huge fever. He found himself wishing you were warm for a completely different reason than the fever.

"Milaya, you are very sick. Drink the medicine for me, okay?" he asks gently, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he looks at you carefully. You're still shaking. You're not sure from what, as you silently nod, still staring at his dark eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief when you sip the medicine from the glass he holds for you without protest. He makes sure you drink it all before he gets out of bed. You instinctively grab his hand, and his heart sinks when he sees pure fear in your eyes.

"Don't go. Don't leave me alone." you whisper, your eyes staring at him so pleadingly that what else can he do but comply with your request?

He swallows and is surprised himself at how quickly he's at your side again, this time holding you in his arms, close to his chest. The idea of bringing you a cold cloth to cover your forehead flies from his mind the moment you snuggle into him for warmth. He feels like a stupid young boy again when he realises that, in another state, you wouldn't seek his closeness. He pushes away these thoughts, trying to make you as comfortable as possible as he runs his hand through your hair and brushes away the beads of sweat from your forehead.

"You're the best nurse or healer I've ever had." you whisper. Your head on his chest, eyes closed as you float with the rhythm of the breaths he takes. And seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes something break inside him.

"I haven't done this for a long time. Look after someone. I was the one who mainly took care of my sister. Our mother didn't want anything to do with her, and neither of us knew our father... so she only had me. People looked at us askance; the kids treated her like an outcast, so she was left to play with her older brother, a teenager who had no idea how to play with or take care of a six-year-old child, and a girl at that. But there was nothing I wouldn't do to make this little one happy. To give her what I didn't have… at least in a small way. Consequently, I can weave wreaths, braid braids, and other strange hairstyles; sew clothes for dolls; and make them. I played the prince on a white horse with her more times than I could count or be willing to admit."

"Black one suits you more." you comment, making him laugh quietly. "What happened to her?" you ask, opening your eyes and shifting your gaze to him.

He sighs heavily, pausing for a moment from stroking your hair as memories come back to him. And you can see in his eyes how much pain it brings him. You remember the words he said during one of your late-night conversations, when you were up late working on your reports.

The past is a wound that cannot be healed.

"She trusted the wrong people. Now she doesn't let anyone close... not even me."

"I turst you. With my life..." You wish you could hear his thoughts the moment he freezes at your words. "We all do." you add, still conscious enough not to completely pour out your heart to him. He pulls you closer to him, continuing to run his hand through your hair and press a cool cloth to your forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N." he whispers, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

A few months ago, he would have cursed himself for letting you get so deep under his skin... Now he can't help but want more. He hates to admit it, but his mother was right.

Men are greedy creatures.

But how could he not want you more? Not to want everything you can offer him when it was you who awakened in him human feelings that he had been hiding from the world for a very long time? When could he be JUST Aleksander with you?

He checks your body temperature again by pressing his hand gently against your forehead, cheek and neck. He hums satisfied, feeling you cooler and your temperature closer to normal.

"You are cozy." you mumble as he is checking on you and you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him tighter. There is a strange sound buzzing in your ears.

"Cozy?" he asks, amused, knowing full well that in other people's eyes he was anything but comfortable or cozy. And there you were, cuddling up to him like he was your favourite stuffed toy, feeling safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

"Yhm..." you murmur, burying your face in his neck to sigh in his scent. "You are the best pillow in the whole world."

You hear the pounding in your head more clearly as your nose presses against his pulse point in his neck. You find this very irritating. If you were a little more aware, you would have realised that it was his heartbeat that was making it difficult for you to fall asleep. What you also don't realise is that you are using your powers on him and calming him down, causing you both to fall asleep.

The tickle on your forehead from something very soft and warm is the last thing you feel before you fall asleep. And he only had time to remove his lips from your skin before you unconsciously forced him to fall asleep, cuddled up against you.

[restinslices]

Liar

Druskelle!Matthias Helvar x Heartrender!WIfe!Reader Word count: 2347 Summary: You've kept being a Grisha secret from your husband Matthias Helvar, but what happens when he finds out? Y/N - Your name D/N - Daughter name

If it hadn’t been for two big reasons, you’d like to think you’d have left Fjerda.

The ice, the cold, the anti Grisha talk. Living in Fjerda was nerve wracking, causing you to be hypervigilant on everything you said or did. To say it was tiring, would be an understatement. Yet two people kept you in Fjerda; your husband Matthias Helvar and your daughter D/N Helvar. 

There were nights where you would toss and turn, your mind plaguing you with nightmares about Matthia finding out about you. Those nightmares never ended the same way. In one dream he’d kill you, the other you’d try to run away together, only for him to be killed. Sometimes you’d be caught instead. In the worst nightmares, it’d be your daughter who was caught and killed.

It’s not that you were afraid of Matthias. You feared him finding out because you didn’t want to lose him. Either from him leaving you, or the other Druskelle killing him.

While you were awake though, you fortunately had a friend. A woman named Elise, who lived a few houses down and was also a Grisha. A tidemaker to be more specific. 

When night fell and darkness covered you both, you two would become a particular thorn in the Druskelle’s sides. Elise would use her tidemaker abilities to create harsh waves that would knock over the boats before they could depart, or icicles that pierced the bottom of the boats, while you would free any Grisha the Druskelle decided to make a “public example” out of. That among other things caused the Druskelle to have a hit out on both of you, but since you were never caught, it was like trying to capture a shadow. 

“I know that I’m right”, Elise said. You rolled your eyes. This was the third time she brought up the possibility of her son, Erik, liking your daughter.

“They’re six Elise”

“I knew what I wanted at six! Plus, Erik gave his scarf to her. Isn’t that proof?”

“No. He noticed she was cold and he was nice”. Elise waved dismissively and went to open her mouth, but luckily Matthias emerged from the back. You had to admit, if you hadn’t known Matthias, you’d be startled by his build. He once told you that he was the tallest and biggest kid amongst the Drukelle, and you never doubted it. Even now, he was taller and bigger than most of the men you saw walking around. He absolutely terrified Elise when she first saw him, and you always brought it up when you wanted a good laugh. 

“They’re too young to date” he said simply before he placed a kiss on your cheek. “They should wait till they’re older and he can court her properly”

You spoke before Elise could make a sarcastic remark, “where are you off to?”

“Boating docks. We’ll be taking off before the week is done, and we have to stay alert”. You fought against the urge to shoot a glance at the woman sitting next to you. Matthias mistook you anxious about being caught for anxiousness about his safety. He rubbed your cheek lightly with his thumb and looked at you with soft eyes, “I’ll be ok”.

You nodded in understanding and off he went, not knowing he was watching out for you. 

~~~

You peered out your window, watching the sun start to go down. You had told the kids to be home at six bells. Foolish of you to think they’d actually listen when you weren’t watching them. 

“I’m gonna start looking for them”, you announced as you threw your coat on. Your hand hovered over the doorknob, before suddenly it was thrown open. 

Erik stood in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish taken out of the water. His left sleeve was completely wet, and you couldn’t help but notice that your daughter was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s-”

“W-we were playing on the lake and… and… and i-it’s not my fault!”

“What isn’t your fault?”

“The ice cracked! I tried to pull her out but she kept moving!”.

Your heart sunk, your breath caught in your throat. Fjerda was always freezing, and who knew how long Erik had waited before he finally came to get both of you. 

It was one of those moments where you mentally blacked out, only fully gaining consciousness when all three of you were approaching the lake. Your feet moved faster when you noticed the hole she undoubtedly fell in. Shouts telling you to slow down fell on deaf ears as you kept running. You approached the hole, hoping maybe she was close by, but she wasn’t. You kneeled, hoping being closer to the ice would help you spot her.

You heard shuffling and panting behind you. “I told Erik to get Matthias. Do you see her?”

“Do you see her in my arms?”, you snapped unintentionally, too preoccupied to care about how harsh that sounded. 

You got back to your feet and overlapped your fingers over each other, making a triangle shape.

“Y/N anyone could see!”. You ignored her words and kept trying to feel for the familiar heartbeat.

You felt a heartbeat, but it did nothing to ease your worries when you realized how slow and faint it was. You followed it, the heartbeat leading a while away from the initial hole in the ice. 

“Elise!”, you called when you saw the familiar hair color of your daughter and her bright colored jacket. Your back stayed to Elise, afraid if you took your eyes off your daughter that she would float away again.

The ice above her cracked before it erupted, it being moved with ease. You silently said a prayer to any higher power that was listening, and thanked them for giving you a tidemaker as a friend. 

You dropped down, pulled the young girl up and laid her on the ice. Your hands went over her heart, once again ignoring the protests coming from the woman behind you. It wasn’t her child dying. It was yours.

“Come on… come on…”, you mumbled. 

You kept muttering encouraging words under your breath, as if all she needed was a good push. You kept telling her to wake up, only letting yourself let out a breath of relief when her eyes opened and she coughed up water. You pulled her up and patted her back, your own heartbeat still not slowing down. You slipped off her jacket and replaced it with your own, your own arms now freezing, but your own freezing body was the least of your concerns. 

You heard more footsteps and looked up, seeing Matthias approaching. He kneeled down, scooping her in his arms and sighing, “Let’s get her inside and get her warm. She’s freezing”.

~~~

Your heartbeat only slowed down when you laid your daughter down to sleep. You watched over her for a while, monitoring her heartbeat. You didn’t know what Matthias was doing. He started acting strange once you got home. Maybe it was shock. You couldn’t tell him how to process the near death experience of his only child.

You left your daughter’s room and made your way to your own bedroom, but your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed Matthias was nowhere to be seen. You checked the bathroom, living room and kitchen, but Matthias wasn’t there. You stepped outside, finally seeing Matthias outside standing, eyes up to the sky. 

You made your way to his side, “how long have you been out here?”. Matthias didn’t respond. You looked up at the stars like he was, “were you speaking to Djel?”.

He nodded. “I was asking for guidance and forgiveness”.

You frowned. Forgiveness for what? For not predicting what happened today? Who could have? It was an accident. A terrible accident, but an accident. You weren’t even angry at Erik or Elise.

“Today was not your fault Matthias. You don’t need to ask for forgiveness”.

Matthias once again didn’t respond. Instead, he walked back into the house. You followed him, calling his name, but getting nothing in return. You grabbed his arm, noticing when he flinched and took a deep breath.

“I know you’re scared because of what happened today. I am too, but don’t push me away. Talk to me-”

“Stop”, he said firmly. He turned to face you, and for the first time ever, he didn’t look at you with softness and love or patience and caring. His eyes were harsh, his eyes now reminding you of a storm instead of the calm sea. “How’d you find her? That’s not the hole she fell in”.

“No one knows where she fell. We weren’t there”.

“Erik was, and he said you weren’t where D/N fell. So, how’d you find her?”.

“I looked around”, you half lied. You had been looking around… just with a little help. “I saw her hair and jacket”.

“Why was there another hole?”

“It was already there”, you lied once again but Matthias didn’t look convinced. “Why… Why are you asking me this?”, you asked. You tried your best to remain calm, hoping he hadn’t seen anything, and if he did you were hoping you could lie your way out of it. You couldn’t let your nightmares come true.

“You’re lying”.

“I’m not”.

“I saw you! I saw your hands over her!”. You unintentionally backed away when his voice rose. He didn’t seem as soft and caring as he usually was. You tried to think quickly. 

“I-I was giving her CPR. There was water in her lungs, I wasn’t just gonna wait for a doctor-”

“I saw Elise break and move the ice without touching it! I saw you with your hands over D/N! Why are you still lying to me?!”.

You went silent. You couldn’t think of a lie out of this. You tried, you really did, but how could you explain that?

“You’re a liar”.

“Matthias”

“It all makes sense. What’s been happening recently. Ships wrecked, sudden bad waves, Drusje escaping, Druskelle being disoriented”, he took a pause, his eyes never getting softer “it was you two. And that’s why you kept telling me to stop being a Druskelle”.

“I…”, you thought for a moment, trying to find a good response. “I wanted to tell you but I didn’t wanna lose you-”, Matthias turned away but you kept talking, your words coming out rushed “I love and care for you so much and Matthias, Grisha are not bad people, despite what you’ve been taught”.

“Is D/N a witch?”

“Grisha are not witches and I don’t know. I didn’t think to test her yet”. Silence filled the room before Matthias spoke up again, 

“But she could be”

You moved to be in front of him, “she’s still our daughter-”

“She’s your daughter”.

You froze. All of a sudden the girl he cared for since she was a newborn, the girl he told bedtime stories to and let sleep next to him when she had a nightmare, was no longer his daughter?

“Don’t do this. She’s still your daughter. I’m still your wife!”, you pleaded. Your hands raised to cup his face but he backed away. You looked into his eyes, trying to read what he was feeling. It didn’t work. He had become a hard wall, unwilling to budge. “I love you and you love me”.

“None of this was real. This was your witchcraft. You made me fall in love with you!”

“You know that’s not true!”, you almost yelled. “Everything between us is real! I married you because I love you! I had your child because I love you! I didn’t make you fall in love with me, that’s not even how my power works!”

“You’re a witch who can boil blood and stop a pulse! Who knows what else you can do?!”

“I would NEVER do that to you or anyone else even if I could!”. You stepped closer to him, but once again he stepped back. “You can’t possibly be that afraid of me”

“I’m not afraid of witches”

“You hate me”. You waited for Matthias to deny it. For him to pull you into a hug and say he’d hear you out, but neither came. You sighed, how could all of this change in a matter of hours? “You wanna hate me, but you don’t and you know you don’t”.

Matthias looked away from you. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened his eyes again. He didn’t look back at you though. “I have to report you and Elise”.

You shook your head, “no you don’t!”. Your hands gripped his arms, sorrow and agony behind your words, “Matthias please!”.

Matthias looked down at you, “I’ll wait until half bell. After that, we’ll be looking for all of you”.

All of you.

You, Elise, Erik, your daughter.

When Matthias hadn’t budged, you ran to your daughter’s room. You quickly got her dressed and threw a coat over her tiny frame. She kept asking questions and rubbing her eyes, but you couldn’t spare any time to answer them. 

What really broke your heart though, is when she saw Matthias. She slipped from your grasp and made her way to him, “where are we going?”. Matthias picked her up and held her, and her arms and legs wrapped around him. Her head falling in the crook of his neck. You had hoped that maybe he changed his mind, but you guessed picking her up and comforting her was like a reflex, because once he seemed to realize what he was doing, he put her down and stepped away from her. 

You picked her up, ignoring her confused murmurs and spared Matthias one last glance before you left. You ran over to Elise’s house, telling her of the news. Like you, she had to wake up her child, and dress him quickly. You two knew you couldn’t go to the boat harbor, so you started on foot to the Ravkan border, the cold air freezing the tears on your face.

A/N: my bad if there's mistakes, I'm sick and this screen is hurting my eyes. Also in the books at least, they use bells instead of like, "6pm" but anyway-. I don't know if I wanna make a part 2 or leave this as a stand alone. Stay tuned to see if this sickness takes me out.

[ellewritesalright]

Overboard

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N: Hello! This is a request from @lareinaa007. It's set in Nikolai's Sturmhond years. Hope y'all enjoy!!

Request: Request for Nikolai Lantsov based on KOS? Basically its reader who falls into the water and Nikolai has to dive in to save her. You can adjust the story however you see fit!

Synopsis: When you get knocked off the railing of the Volkvolny, your captain dives in after you.

Warnings: Fighting, blood, gunshots/gunwound, stormy weather on the sea, swimming in dangerous waters, mentions of illness and wounds, and idk what else. Fluff.

Word Count: 1800

..........

Nikolai hadn’t meant for this to happen. It was a simple case of fishing without a license gone wrong. He still maintained the sentiment that he should not need a license if his ship was as far from land as it was. But regardless of his opinion, now a Fjerdan fishing hauler was on the Volkvolny’s tail, chasing the schooner like it was meant to police the waters. 

Perhaps it was, his mind mused. He had an annoyed frown as he stood at the helm of his ship. Perhaps it was a ship in the fleet of The Top Secret Fjerdan Fish Police.

Whatever that hauler was, Nikolai was determined not to get caught, and he had the Squallers and Tidemakers at full power as they whipped across the waves as fast as they could. 

He glanced at the deck and his sailors. His eyes landed on you, his very best Squaller and occasional focus of his flirtations. You laughed him off every time he’d say something mildly suggesstive or smile coyly at you, but he never failed to notice you staring at him softly across the deck or glancing at him and quickly glancing away during mealtimes. 

Right now you kept your arms raised to control the masts as you backed up toward him.

“We should be taking the offensive,” you said, voice raised to travel above the noise all around and grace Nikolai’s ears. “Two Squallers and I can slow the hauler down if we turn their wind against them.”

“That’s brilliant!” He beamed at you. 

“I know,” you said, a pleased grin on your face. Saints, he liked your grin.

You followed through with this plan, stepping up to the very back of the Volkvony with two more Squallers. A few looks over his shoulder confirmed that the gap between the Fjerdan ship and the Volkvolny was steadily growing. All because of you, his clever Squaller.

But it was when shots rang out that he got a little worried. He whipped around, seeing the hauler suddenly gaining as the triad of Squallers at the stern ducked down to avoid a quick array of gunfire.

And it was when he noticed you double over that he got a lot worried. He spotted blood coming from a small, bullet-shaped wound in your arm. But despite your pain, you gritted your teeth and stood again as best as you could, raising your arms to work against the hauler. 

But nearby Nikolai, a Tidemaker was thrown off balance from dodging the shooting, and the ship suddenly lurched.

Nikolai watched in horror as you tumbled off the stern of the ship, falling down into the sea. Ordinarily, he would have had a buoy lowered and someone would have rowed out to fish you from the water, but this was not an ordinary moment. The water was more than a little choppy today, hell-bent on sinking the Volkvolny, and the temperature of it was no doubt colder than he could fathom due to the northern location. And then there was the trouble of the furious Fjerdan fishing hauler chasing them.

The Fjerdan ship was not quite as quick as the Volkvolny, but it would still follow its path. If you didn’t clear out of the way of the hauler, you would drown under the weight of its hull. And you couldn’t swim at full capability because of the bullet in your arm. He had to help you.

Without a second thought, he stripped off his heavy coat and dove off the back of the Volkvolny.

He hit the waves with a jolt, feeling the icy water permeate his veins. Just as he thought, it was unfathomably cold. He could see you just a few yards away from him, struggling to stay afloat in the high waves around you. He started to swim toward you, kicking as strongly as he could against the furious water. 

The waves rose, and he lost sight of you, but he kept pushing. He went harder, kicking his legs forcefully as he sought you in the water. The waves lowered again and he found you once more, just a few paces from him.

He breathed in his relief as he made contact with you, helping you float in the treacherous waves.

"You shouldn't have come for me!" You scolded him, your voice sounding hoarse from the cold.

"I'm not leaving you."

This was all he said as he started swimming the two of you through the dangerously tall waves. You stayed quiet besides a few grunts of pain from the bullet wound in your arm. As best as you could, you helped him kick, then suddenly the two of you felt a boost in the water, a gentle nudging towards the Volkvolny. No doubt one of the Tidemakers was trying to save you and the captain.

The Fjerdan hauler was still hot on your trails, but that was the least of either of your worries right now as you both pushed through the waves. A rope was lowered off the side of the Volkvolny, and Nikolai directed the two of you to it. He secured the rope around you first, then looped it around himself. As the rope raised you out of the water, Nikolai held you close.

When you finally reached the deck, Nikolai took a moment to look you over for any more injuries besides the bullet wound in your arm. Both of you were shivering from your harrowingly cold swim, but Nikolai needed to make sure you were safe. His eyes were concerned as he checked on you. He had a small, almost pouty frown on his lips as he brushed his hand along your forehead and looked into your eyes. 

It was only when Tolya came to you and began heartrending to staunch your bleeding that Nikolai left your side. You watched him cross the deck, picking up his teal coat where he discarded it. He slung it over his shoulders and continued giving orders to his crew as they fought back the Fjerdan hauler.

Tolya ushered you below deck but you grabbed his arm, catching his attention. "Make sure someone looks over him too. Please." You told him. "I know he's just as freezing as I am, he could catch his death."

Tolya nodded, and then you went below deck to the infirmary corner.

……….

Hours later, when the Volkvolny was miles and miles away from that hauler, and the crew was putting the ship back to right, Nikolai went below deck. He found you in your usual cot, wrappings around your arm as you laid back for a rest. When you noticed him he gave you a polite nod.

"All fixed up?" He spoke almost timidly.

"For the most part. I've got a fair bit of salt water in my lungs, though," you joked half-heartedly.

He cracked a smile. 

You sat up a bit more, wincing as you put pressure on your arm. Nikolai was quick to rush to your side, helping you lean up, but you swatted at him a bit. He stepped back again.

"You shouldn't have done that today," you said quietly.

"Fishing without a license is a stupid rule, and I will not let the Fjerdans push me around–"

"That's not what I'm talking about," you interjected, giving him a look.

Nikolai took a beat, then he sat down on the edge of your cot. "I wasn't going to leave you."

"You put the crew in danger, you put yourself in danger, Sturmhond. You can't go rescuing every person who goes overboard--I mean, what if that hauler had caught up to us? What if it killed us?" You sighed, looking away from him. "Then the ship would be without a captain, and there would be many more casualties on the crew than just a Squaller."

"Don't say that," he whispered, shaking his head.

"What else should I say? You were reckless."

"I'm always reckless."

"Well, today you were worse than usual."

"And yet it worked out, didn't it?" He tilted his head at you. "No lives lost today."

You looked down at your lap, your hands fidgeting together. "Still… the crew needs you."

Nikolai reached for your hands, and you felt an uncontrollable current spread through you from his touch. It warmed you, despite how cold his hands were. His thumb traced along the back of your hand as he looked into your eyes. 

"And I need you," he said softly.

Your mouth parted just slightly at his words. The certainty of his voice killed you a bit, but you would be willing to die a thousand times just to hear him say that again and again. I need you. I need you. I need you.

You gripped his hand in return, watching as he slowly smiled at you. You laced your fingers with his, drawing him closer to you.

"Your hands are cold," you said. "I told Tolya to keep an eye out for you. I don't want you catching pneumonia."

"I'm just fine, darling," he smiled, leaning in closer to you. "Better than fine, actually. There's a lovely Squaller holding my hands as we sit in a bed together, things could only go up from here."

He gave you a wink and you scoffed, playfully nudging him back from you. "I'm serious. Did someone check on you?"

"Yes. I'm in good health, I assure you."

You brushed back his damp hair, sighing lightly. "Good."

He leaned into your touch. You were starting to think your favourite sight was his stare as it softened on you; the adoration in his eyes had your heart skipping a beat. He traced his thumb on your hand again.

"I wasn't lying before, or being over dramatic as you sometimes accuse me of," he said quietly, smiling at you. A faint blush crept up his neck. "I need you… Truly and completely."

You held back from grinning too wildly as you met his hopeful eyes. "I need you too."

"Of course you do." He started to smirk. "Who else would have fished your ass out of the sea?"

You rolled your eyes, grinning at full tilt now. "You're ridiculous."

"But you need me."

"And you need me."

"Yes, it's a dreadful situation we've both found ourselves in. If only there was some way to settle this," he said, a flirtatious shimmer in his eyes as he leaned in closer to you.

You met him halfway, kissing him softly. Any residual cold you'd felt from your time in the sea today melted away with his touch.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

[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.

[kiriganarchives]

the wedding

*ੈ₊˚. matthias and nina hc | 1.2k words

One of the few chapels in Ketterdam was a crumbling old building, weathered under the weight of neglect and decay. Fortunately, it was tucked away in Black Veil, keeping them close to their hideout. Nina examined her surroundings, the dim light barely illuminating the peeling paint and cracked stone. The room was dark, and a steady drip echoed from a leak in the ceiling, punctuating the silence. They shouldn’t be here—not at this hour. Kaz would undoubtedly have their heads for it, but that was why Inej was by their side. Nina hoped that with her presence, Kaz would be more forgiving. Also, Inej was the only one in their crew who spoke to the Saints. Her devout spirit lent a symbolism to the occasion, and even more so, she was Nina's closest friend. It was important to Nina for her to be there, and meant more to her than she could say. 

 “Sorry there wasn’t a better option,” Inej said softly. “This was the only chapel we could reach without being noticed.”

Matthias glanced around, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. “I can see why,” he muttered.

Nina rested a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle but firm. “It’s fine,” she said, her eyes shifting between him and Inej. “I’d marry you anywhere, as long as you were beside me.”

A faint smile broke through Matthias’s somber expression. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

Matthias approached the remains of what had once been an altar, the edges of the stone barely visible under layers of dust and ruin. Nina moved to the start of the aisle, each step heavy with anticipation. Inej stepped beside her, slipping her arm through Nina’s, offering a small, steadying smile as she began to walk with her. Nina’s heart raced with each step forward, and she felt her Heartrender abilities useless against the surge of emotion tightening her chest. She met Matthias’s gaze; he looked as worn as the crumbling chapel surrounding them, exhaustion etched into his features, his clothes tattered from days spent hiding in Black Veil. His once-neat hair now fell in disarray, far from the disciplined Fjerdan soldier she’d first met on that ice-bound ship. But none of that mattered. Saints, his eyes—those eyes that burned with fierce, undying love for her. She knew she must look the same, that he could see the raw, undeniable reflection of it in her gaze too.

Inej unthreaded her arm from Nina’s, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What you’re doing is beautiful. I am truly happy for you,” she said, her voice trembling.

Nina hastily wiped away the first tear that slipped down her cheek, taken aback by Inej’s vulnerability. “The Wraith is crying? It must be that the Barrel has been turned upside down and shaken violently,” she laughed bitterly. “Thank you, Inej,” she whispered, her smile softening. She embraced Inej tightly before reluctantly pulling away.

The last few weeks had been marked by chaos. Even after rescuing Inej from Van Eck, the crew was teetering on the edge, pushed to their limits. Kaz was already plotting their next move, and Nina couldn’t shake the feeling that this one would be the final gambit. Matthias sensed it too. The night after Inej’s rescue, the consequences of her use of parem surged through Nina like a tide, pulling her under. She felt the darkness creeping in, the edges of her strength fraying. But Matthias was there, and he held her close, offering comfort in the quiet, a balm for the pain that threatened to swallow her whole.

That night, Nina nestled against Matthias, her heart racing with a mix of fear and longing. She could feel the remnants of power still coursing through her veins, a reminder of what she had sacrificed for strength. The whispers of the drug clawed at her mind, seductive and insistent, tempting her to surrender to it once more. But as she looked into Matthias’s eyes—those fierce, steadfast eyes—she found the resolve to fight it.

“Why did I let it get this far?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in her words hung between them, heavy and charged.

Matthias traced a thumb over her cheek, anchoring her in the present. “No use dwelling on what’s already gone,” he said, his voice steady, a quiet strength meant for both of them. “All that matters is this—I'm here. We are here.”

Nina lifted her gaze to him, eyes shining, her hair a soft whisper against his chin. “Matthias, it hurts,” she breathed, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what tomorrow holds. All I want is to be with you, and I ask the Saints—why not now? Can’t it be now?”

Matthias frowned, uncertainty clouding his eyes. “What are you asking?”

Nina inhaled slowly, the breath heavy with the weight of her heart, and the parem. “Be with me, forever. Promise me things, even if the world doesn’t let them happen.”

A twinkle shone in Matthias’s eyes. “I never took you for a romantic,” he said with a soft chuckle, though the humor felt hollow.

“Maybe I’m just tired of hiding, of waiting,” she confessed, her voice no more than a breath. “I want something we can hold on to, no matter what tomorrow brings.”

Matthias’s gaze softened, his grip on her hands tightening just slightly. “Something that won’t slip away with the night,” he murmured, as if testing the thought aloud.

Nina nodded, the ache in her chest easing ever so slightly. “Exactly. Something that’s ours, even if the world tries to take it.”

He studied her, the tension in the air crackling between them. “We will make this permanence,” he said, his voice firm. A smile broke through the shadows that had lingered in his eyes.

It had only happened a few days ago, yet the memory lingered vividly in Nina's mind. She needed to hold onto it, especially as she stepped closer to Matthias, and a wave of fear washed over her. She fought to push it away. She knew, deep down, that this was what she truly wanted. When Nina finally reached the altar, her fear melted away, replaced by the undeniable love she felt for the man standing before her. The Druskelle, her warrior.

Outside, the world felt on the brink, shadows dancing in the flickering light of the lanterns that lined the narrow streets of Ketterdam. The city was a living beast, wild and untamed, and they were caught in its jaws, waiting for the moment to strike back. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp night air, determined to face whatever awaited them.

“I don’t know what will happen,” Nina said, her voice trembling, but a smile broke through.

“I do,” Matthias declared, cradling Nina's hands in his own, gently tilting her chin to meet his gaze. “With these vows, we will be forever bound. No matter what tomorrow brings, we will love each other fully and completely. It doesn’t matter when or how. I am here now, Nina. If you will have me.”

Nina squeezed his hands, warmth blooming in her chest. “Of course I will. Will you have me, Matthias Helvar?”

“Until death,” he replied, his eyes aglow with fervor. “In the eyes of Djel, the Saints, or whatever heavens may be watching, I will choose you—today and always, Nina Zenik. I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath.”

[myeur-n]

Imagine that Sturmhond reveals himself as Prince Nikolai Lantsov, but you couldn't accept it

Disclaimer:

This oneshot is purely based on the Netflix series, so some of the lore might be incorrect

y/n is a female Grisha

Angst/Fluff

"Captain, are you sure that the Saint is stable enough to cross the fold?" y/n approached the captain's table and crossed her arms before him. The Volkvolny was beginning to rumble from the calling of the Fold, and as a Materialki, you weren't really fond of how the wooden planks of the ship you had invented with your Captain begun to stir.

"Y/n, how many times have I asked you to address me by Sturmhond?" The blonde and blue-eyed privateer snickered at you, leaning back against his cushioned chair and crossing his legs. You remained silent and only had a concerned look crossing your features. "Come on, then. Call me by my name then I shall answer you," he added and began beckoning you toward him.

"Alright... Sturmhond. Now answer me," you rolled your eyes. "You know how terrified I am of the Fold. If I get caught by one of the Volcra in there, I'll be demanding that you pay for my health insurance even if I'm dead,".

"I would expect no less from you," he pulled a soft smile at your direction, which almost warmed your heart - almost. You shook your head as he stood up from his chair and stood next to you.

"It'll be alright, y/n. Alina's strong enough with her amplifier. You'll be safe, I can promise you that," he muttered, casting a soft smile at you before he climbed the stairs to the upper deck.

"No doubt he's about to show off the Hummingbird," you rolled your eyes and tailed him.

Before you knew it, you were suddenly up in the air and reaching the entrance of the Fold. You looked up at the abyssal storm, growling and calling before your very eyes. Quickly turning around, you saw that only a few of the Volkvolny crew, including yourself and your captain; the Saint herself and her lover were aboard the Hummingbird.

Alina Starkov looked back at the Fold with a determined glare, while Mal's eyes were clouded with his usual protectiveness. Before you could turn to look at Sturmhond, he had already crossed the ship's deck and stood by your side, linking your arms tightly with his.

"It's going to be alright. You don't have to be scared," he mumbled in a low voice, almost to himself. You could hear the slight tremble in his voice, and you knew you weren't alone in this consuming fear - he felt the same way too.

"Sturmhond," you turned your wrists so your palms could capture his. "I trust you," you nodded once before turning back at the starless sky as darkness consumed your surrounding.

Both of you gasped, but held each other tight. The Fold was pitch black and cold - colder than the sea breeze at night. Your mind suddenly travelled to what you could do as a Grisha. You were just a Materialki - a person who could manipulate earth and steel - but, what use is that when it comes to something as powerful as the darkness?

Suddenly, a blinding white light filled your eyes and it came from the Saint.

Sturmhond's blue eyes filled with marvel and wonder, and your heart ached to see them as you realised that he could never look at you the same way he looked at Alina's beautiful sunlight. You pursed your lips and slowly attempted to loosen your grip of his hand, but it won't move a muscle.

You closed your eyes and hoped that this would end soon.

As no light could pierce your eyelids, you thought that the worst is over, but only found that Alina was gasping for air and could not summon the sunlight anymore. Mal rushed to her side to protect her from the Darkness of the Fold, while Sturmhond quickly removed your hands from his and grabbed his pistol.

You rushed to the front of the Hummingbird and placed your hands on the engine of the ship, forcing the gears to work harder so everyone could get out of the Fold quickly. Some of the crew members screamt as they were grabbed by the Volcra and fell to their death.

You panicked as one of the Volcra almost snatched you into the air, but you had quickly picked up a crowbar and shifted it into a sword before slicing it into half.

"Now, that's my lady!" Sturmhond shouted from across the deck as he continued shooting the beasts. You rolled your eyes and with your last effort, you pushed the engines to their limit before they gave out one last revolution and ceased their turning.

And all of you were so close to getting out of the Fold.

"Brace! Brace for impact!" You shouted loud enough for everyone to hear as you shut your eyes hard and focused your abilities to the front of the ship, bending the round-edged wood to become sharp-edged, so that as they land on the ground, it would pierce the dirt and lessen the damage on the Hummingbird. Sturmhond wasn't going to let it go if she had let his precious invention turn into ruin.

The ship dug into the dirt of East Ravka and slid across the grass. Everyone let out a whelp as their knees collapsed from the impact. You exhaled a large breath and wiped a sweat from your forehead. It was definitely hard to use the small sciences without looking at what you're about to change.

Tamar and Tolya were the first to cheer, while Sturmhond quickly ran over to you.

"Are you alright? You seemed to be doing a lot of work there," he spoke - and for the first time, it seemed like it was out of concern.

"Yeah, and it's all because I had to save your damn ship from falling to pieces," you groaned at him, which only received a long chuckle from him.

Out of the blue, everyone heard the marching of more than a legion of soldiers.

"What's going on?" You muttered to yourself, but your eyes held Sturmhond's.

He avoided them and only shook his head.

"Identify yourself!" The captain of the soldier commanded. The Sun Summoner seemed clearly irritated while Sturmhond grasped her shoulder with his one arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'll handle this," he said and he began to undress himself off his long, ridiculous privateer coat and he seemed to behaving a conversation with the captain. You parted your lips to ask him "Wouldn't you end up naked?", but you quickly took your words back when your eyes perceived Sturmhond wearing a green uniform gilded in golden embroidery, a uniform almost similar to those Ravkan soldiers, but it carried a higher air of command.

"It can't be," the man named Ravski gasped.

"Yes, it is," Sturmhond responded. You unbuckled your knees to get a better view of what was happening.

"Moi Tsarevich," Ravski began to kneel. "My prince,".

You gasped, while Mal and Alina passed each other confused looks.

"I present Nikolai Lantsov, Major of the 22nd Regiment, Soldier of the King's Army, Grand Duke of Udova, and Second Son to his Most Royal Majesty - King Pyotr the Third - Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne!" The captain announced with a spirited voice, while Sturmhond - now Nikolai pulled a smug look across his face.

You couldn't believe your eyes that the man in which you had spent years with was in fact, the estranged Prince of Ravka himself. Your lips quivered as memories came flooding back to you, but you knew that you couldn't cause a scene.

The prince had already been enjoying himself too much.

~•~

Everyone had reached the Stronghold (or moreso like a base) where Grisha who opposed against the Darkling and survivors of East Ravka remained. You spotted Zoya, someone who had always taught you the meaning of hard life back at the Little Palace - greeting Alina Starkov like old friends.

You clenched your fists and held back your tears. Once again, you were a stranger to everyone around you. The only person that you could become yourself was now gone too.

"One week," you took a deep breath in your personal quarters, which was very much far away from Alina and Nikolai's - given your status as a Materialki Grisha. Even Tolya and Tamar's rooms were closer to the Prince's. "Hold on for one week and we shall see," you swallowed the fear in your throat.

Your y/e/c shifted to your modest bed and you laid yourself there - hoping that your memories won't haunt you at night. Everyone was in a meeting to discuss their next move against the Darkling, but you weren't included - as expected.

That night, you recalled the memories from a time long forgotten of you, your brothers and sisters which were called upon to the Little Palace and serve as the Second Army for the Tsar. You shared their excitement when all of you had found out that you were Grisha. Your twin sisters were prodigal Heartrenders like Tamar and Tolya, while your eldest brother was an Inferni and your younger brother was a Squaller. Everyone was suited for battle and talented - but not you.

You were just a plain Materialki - a Durast who was weak and could not bend swords or bullets quickly enough to save your life. And so, you were never ordered to Battle like your siblings since even the Darkling did not acknowledge your abilities.

One day, the Tsar ordered his princes to enter and cross the Fold for a diplomatic mission on west Ravka. Something happened when they were on their way back, and they had to kill as much Volcra as possible along with only a few of the Second Army Soldiers escorting them - with the Heartrenders being your own two sisters and ome of the squallers your younger brother. Almost none survived, with the exception of his princes, as it seemed.

You and your eldest brother grieved their death, and sent many personal letters to both the Darkling and the King, requesting for the return of the bodies of your fallen siblings. However, both of them rejected your requests, giving an excuse that their main priority was to search for the Second Prince - none other than Nikolai Lantsov, instead of bringing their bodies home.

You and your brother were devastated, and he was suddenly being called upon to fight at the Fjerdan borders. You had tried your best to make an armor for him, in which no bullet should be able to pass through - and it worked - only if it hadn't been for the Fjerdans to cut off his head when your brother was wounded.

Distressed, you crossed the the Fold from East to West Ravka by yourself with an invention you had so carelessly made, as an effort to hopefully let the Saints decide your fate in the abyss. And you could have died, if your wounded self wasn't discovered by Sturmhond.

You woke up silently with your eyes brimming in tears. Your siblings' lack of proper burial, Sturmhond's deceit, and your uselessness as a Durast was all too much for you. The very thought of being under the roof of the man which had both killed and saved your life was something your heart could not handle anymore.

You had to leave.

Its not like anyone would realise nor dread your absence.

Wiping the silent and hot tears pouring out of your eyes, you began to pack some clean clothes into your knapsack, a pair of daggers, a map of Ravka, money, food and water. There wasn't much to pack anyway. You put on a cloak and blew out your candle before you opened your door.

"Captain-!" You exclaimed as the blonde and blue-eyed man which had been by your side for years suddenly showed up in front of you with his hands up, and hand balled into a fist, as if he wanted to knock on your door.

"Y/n, you're awake!" He gasped and pulled a cheesy smile. "I guess you've been around me for too long until you could sense me from far away, then?" He chuckled. Slowly observing his formal attire, it was obvious that he had just finished his meeting.

"You're incredibly loud with everything you do, that's how I know," You pursed your lips and forced a smile.

He nodded and began to peek around your pitch black room, past your shoulders. "Your quarters are very dark now, aren't they?" He commented.

"I was sleeping, Capta-I mean, uhm, moi Tsarevich," and you kept a distance away from him as you recalled that the man before you was ranks higher above yours.

"You were asleep with your travelling cloak?" He raised a playful brow.

"You shouldn't be here. Just go to sleep, my prince. You look tired after the meeting,".

"About that," the prince pushed your arm which was blocking the way into your room and lit a match. He searched for your candle for a second and lit it up. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened... earlier," he muttered and his bright eyes searched your room.

"There's nothing to talk about-,".

"Saints, why did they give you such an empty room? There's barely anything in here!" He jumped and began going through your old cupboard. You sighed and closed your eyes, not knowing how to properly deal with the man.

"My prince, you're no longer Sturmhond. Its improper for you to act in this manner. I beg of you, please remove yourself from my quarters," your heart was beginning to ache, but he was seemingly avoiding your words as he continued rambling around.

"The only thing here as stuffed as the king is your-," and his eyes paused at your knapsack. "Why is it packed, y/n? Where are you going?".

"Its none of your concern, my prince," You could not brave yourself to look into his eyes.

"Saints, just call me Nikolai, y/n,".

"How can I just call you Nikolai Lantsov when you've been my Captain and Sturmhond to me?" You snapped as irritation overwhelmed you.

"You don't understand, Nikolai - you're a prince. I'm just a deserter of the Second Army and we're not equals anymore,".

"Come on, you know that I don't think of you that way-,".

"Either way, you can't stop me from leaving," your voice trembled.

Nikolai suddenly crossed his arms and he passed a stern glare at you, a look you had rarely seen him equip himself with. In that moment, you realised that he truly was a Prince - not just any foolish prince like his brother, but a man of command, a man who you could have followed anywhere, even to the edge of the world - if it hadn't been for yourself.

"You can't leave. I forbid you," he stated with his sudden cold blue eyes fixed upon you.

"You have no right to give orders to me," You took a few steps toward him, almost challenging his command.

"You can't leave," Nikolai breathed, voice softening as he slowly closed the distance between the two of you.

"I have no place here - by your side, as a soldier in this war you've involved yourself with. I'm a lesser Durast compared to the ones you've got here-,".

"No one's ever said that to you," Nikolai's hand reached your arm, almost grasping it to not let you go.

"No one needed to say it. I couldn't save my brother because of it. What makes you think that I could save you when you need my help?" your face went hot as you realised how close the both of you were to each other. That panicked heartbeat of yours thundered against your chest and you were worried if he could hear it.

"We made our ship together, y/n. You helped me with my inventions, made it ours and saved me, countless of times during our raids-," he pulled a bittersweet smile as he recalled his days together with you as a privateer.

"Nikolai," your hand instinctively reached his cheek, and he leaned into your touch - blue eyes glowing with a desperate blaze. "Those days are now over. You're a Ravkan Prince and you must let go of things that do not matter anymore - like me,".

He took in a sharp breath and refused to look into your eyes for the first time.

It was true that you had to leave him because there was no chance that the both of you could live peacefully together, sailing away with hopes of building a family together - free from any danger. That was your dream, and not his. Nikolai had always been ambitious, despite his foolhardy efforts to make him appear the opposite.

When he remained silent, you passed by his shoulder and grabbed your knapsack. You crossed your room and to your door, before hesistating to reach for the doorknob. Turning back to him one last time, you stretched a soft and genuine smile of fond farewell to Nikolai.

"Farewell, moi Sobachka. If the Saints would allow it, we'll meet again," you muttered and closed the door behind you as you left.

Nikolai stared at the still door, breathless and heart aching. His heart was heavy, but he understood why you had to leave. With his final breath within your presence, he breathed:

"I love you,".

[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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[bookworm-center]

A Kaz Brekker one shot base on the Selena Gomez’s song ‘The Heart Wants What It Wants’

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Wanting

In which happy endings don't happen.

Author's Note: I'm not going to lie, I don't really know this song too well, but I listened to it a couple times and looked at the lyrics so I think I know what you wanted? It's sort of angst though so... Enjoy? I'm not adding all the lyrics; I'm mostly skipping around since I don't really know the song that well. Sorry it's a little short!😭

The future that we hold is so unclear

But I'm not alive until you call

And I'll bet the odds against it all

The Ketterdam sky turns a dusky purple as Y/n slips across the rooftops. Another day, another job. That's what they did in Ketterdam. They were all poor people, living in a rich man's world, doing what they could to make ends meet. Thanks to Kaz, Y/n managed to survive under the Dregs protection, though their future wasn't set in stone. All they could do was survive under the next day and just keep fighting.

Save your advice 'cause I won't hear

You might be right, but I don't care

Tears stream down their face. Kaz had yelled at them again. They know it shouldn't affect them that much, after all, Kaz was born from the Barrel, but his words still dug deep. Everything he told them, every whispered word of advice, and every time they couldn't follow through. They were supposed to be a killer, but in the end, they couldn't.

There's a million reasons why I should give you up

But the heart wants what it wants

The heart wants what it wants

For some damnably foolish reason, Y/n loved Kaz. Maybe it was the way he took them in, or how when he wasn't mad, he would joke and hold meaningless conversation. There were so many reasons why Y/n shouldn't love Kaz: he's Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, a liar, a thief and utterly without conscience. But their heart wanted him and as Inej always says "The heart is an arrow. It demands to aim true."

This is a modern fairy tale

No happy endings

No wind in our sails

Happy endings don't exist in Ketterdam. Y/n came to that conclusion years ago. It's sort of funny, the way that they're just thinking of this again. Y/n would never not want Kaz, or at least not for a long time. But they would never have a happy ending. This wasn't a fairy tale, wasn't some make-believe world that could be shaped into perfection. This was the world that they lived in, one that would never be kind to people like them, one that would never allow someone like the Bastard of the Barrel to have a happy ending.

[heliads]

'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things:  either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him:  he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top. 

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily. 

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. ��Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer. 

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[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

[padfootagain]

Running

Yet another character I’m writing for, I guess…

Answering an anonymous request even if I was planning on writing something like this anyway: ‘aaahhh i saw that you were opening request for the darkling but i dont have any original ideas for him i just want to comfort him and have a softer aleksander idk i JUST NEED COMFORT like having the darkling breaking down over something and the reader comforting him and just loads of fluff i need him so baaad’

Thank you so much for your request, anon! Changed it a little bit, but I hope you’ll like it anyway!

Going to use Ben as the physical description for him although I’m going to use some character traits that are a mix of book and show, because… you know me by now, do I really need to give you a reason for this artistic choice? I don’t think so.

I loved the idea in the book (that was not used enough in the show in my opinion) that Aleksander’s amplifying abilities were a threat for his life, because he was a target for Grisha too. So… I used it a bit here, I love that detail. Adds to the whole tragic of his character, I reckon.

Anyways! I hope you all like this fic! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings: Blood, mentions of war and violence, angst, hurt/comfort, pretty sad…

Summary: After a particularly violent battle, only a handful of soldiers remain. The aftermath is difficult for everyone, while you travel across the country in search of a safe place. Even the most stoic ones can show weakness sometimes…

Word count: 3472

Masterlist

It was cold.

It was dark, but that was a good thing, it meant that you were hidden.

It was cold, strong wind coming from the Fjerdan border up North, blowing and howling through the tall pine trees.

It was night time, stars lighting up the sky, a shy moon only in its first quarter. So far up North, there could have been Northern Lights. But not tonight.

Tonight was for grieving, not admiring.

You were exhausted. You were in shock. You were still bleeding.

And yet, there was a man before you, a friend, Andrei was his name. Lying in the young snow, tainting the white ice with crimson blood. The liquid fumed, warmth against the cold. The irony sent of blood against the resin of the pine trees.

There was a friend lying before you, bleeding, on the verge of dying, and you were the only one who could save him. The wound that crossed his abdomen was deep though, and you were no Healer.

Heartrender. You were trained to fight, not to mend. This was only a secondary use of your power to you. But then again, you had no choice, there was no Healer left alive in your army.

An army? What a joke. There was but a handful left of you. Most of them wounded, just like you were. You were part of the lucky ones though, you had but a only a flesh wound. It was painful, and made you weaker than your usual self, but your life was not endangered by the cut across your thigh. You limped though, for travelling, it wasn’t the best…

Andrei seemed to choke on his own blood, the barrier you had created to keep the rushing blood out of his lungs breaking for a mere second, but it was enough. You focused, sweat glistening across your dirty forehead under the silvery starlight. You took a deep breath, trying to focus, but you were too tired, too unexperienced to treat such a serious wound…

He was the tenth man you were healing tonight. Your whole body was shaking from the strain of it all by now.

The gurgling noise drew worried glances and blank ones your way, and you tried to ignore them all, these soldiers of the Second Army, who had fought and survived out of pure luck, just like you had.

This idiot of a King had sent you right into a trap. You stood no chance…

You blinked your tears away as images of the battle flashed before your eyes. Bodies falling, hands moving in the air for summoning, the loud pangs of gunpowder detonating, the grunts, the shouts and the scent of blood and sweat and urine heavy in the air, and blank stares turned to the sky that would never see again…

You felt your power wavering, but you forced yourself to focus on Andrei again. Because he was not dead. And despite your exhaustion, you could still save him… maybe it was a fool’s hope, but no one could survive without hope…

“Will he make it?”

The deep voice behind you made you jump, and you turned to look up at the Darkling.

Tall figure standing before the moon. The silvery light coming through the branches made some kind of hallo around him.

He was covered with mud, blood and ashes too. Just like everyone else. He was dishevelled, his black kefta partially torn apart, with dark circles under his even-darker eyes. He looked exhausted. And yet, there was still something so powerful about him…

You struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. Somehow, speaking to someone else made it all more real…

“I’m doing my best, sir,” you answered, your voice shaking.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, narrowing his eyes to look more closely at your shape sitting in the snow.

“It’s only a flesh wound. I’m okay.”

You saw him clenching his jaw and fists. Always a bad sign. But his gaze was still stern and calm when it met yours again.

You couldn’t say that you knew him well, but then, you reckoned that no one truly did. He kept people at bay, it was safer that way.

Still, you thought that you knew him enough to recognize the anger in his set jaw, the frustration in his tight fists…

You were surprised, though, when he kneeled in the snow by your side.

“You are no Healer,” he said, it was more of a statement than a question, as if he was reminding you.

“No, I’m a Heartrender, sir. I’m trying my best, but the wound is very deep.”

You felt a little stupid for reminding him of your Corporalnik status. He knew who you were. Better than anyone, in a way. There had been long nights in his War Room spent talking about your childhood, about his longing for a safe haven for Grisha, about dreams unreachable even through the dark…

But then again, nothing more than that. Just talking, for long hours. And he hadn’t shown you any sign that anything more would happen, and neither had you. To you, it was ridiculous to think so, anyway. He was the Darkling, after all.

You didn’t know he enjoyed these moments as much as you did though; that despite his better judgement, he longed for them.

How could you know? He was good at keeping a mask on. He had had centuries to master this talent to perfection.

“Allow me,” he spoke, voice soft, barely audible above the howling of the wind in the branches and the cracking frost of snow. Still, it was delicate, velvety almost…

You nodded, although you weren’t sure what you were agreeing to. He was the Darkling, after all. You trusted him blindly.

You started when he gently pulled on your dirty red sleeve, pushing it up your forearm to reveal your wrist.

“Keep working,” he instructed, and you obeyed.

He found your pulse easily, without looking for it at all, as if it called for his fingertips. He simply rested the pads of his fingers against your wrist, and they naturally landed on the pulsing blood. As if his fingers were meant to rest there…

You felt a surge of power cursing your entire body; and if you were still shaking, this time it was because of power instead of fatigue.

You stared at him, gaze intense and unwavering, for several seconds, and he held your gaze too. There were no feelings to be read in the two inky orbs that stared back at your soul, but you couldn’t escape from them anyway.

You had heard many rumours about the Darkling’s amplifying abilities, you guessed they were all true.

“Will you be able to save him now?” he asked, voice calm and emotionless, asking a mere question, as if there wasn’t a life depending on it.

You nodded and focused on Andrei without another word, the Darkling following the movements of your hands to keep the contact between your skins. Your heart was beating faster than ever, and you weren’t certain if it came from the sudden surge of power running through you now, or by the Darkling’s nearness…

It took you a while before Andrei was stable enough for him to be transported safely in the morning. Or maybe you would start moving again before dawn, you weren’t sure, you didn’t even know where you were going…

You lowered your hands at long last, feeling exhaustion rush over you once more despite the Darkling’s amplification, but you were surprised when he didn’t let go. You expected the lack of contact to happen as soon as you would be done, for his fingers to run away, to flee your skin and leave in their trail only a cold gush of wind. Instead, his fingers remained there, pressed to your pulse, and when you looked up at him, he looked like he was the one holding an amplifier in his hand, instead of the other way around.

You got caught in his eyes again, trapped in two dark orbs that captured everyone who dared to look at them, and you knew it. He had something dangerous, magnetic about him. You had seen him at court enough to know that he played with his charisma to manipulate people to do his bidding as much as possible. But what could he manipulate you to do now? You had almost died today. You had killed under his command, you had watched your friends die, you had run away wrapped in his protective shadows…

What else could he get from you? There was nothing more to extract anyway. Maybe that was why you didn’t doubt his sincerity when he spoke again.

“Please, follow me, Y/N. I need your help.”

You didn’t question where you were heading, how you could help. Instead, you stood up despite your exhaustion, and followed him through the trees. You didn’t walk far, it was too dangerous to venture away from the group, but he guided you where you wouldn’t be disturbed, where you couldn’t be seen by the remnants of the Second Army.

And his fingers were still there, burning against the skin of your wrist… unwavering, unfaltering, eternal…

When he stopped, turned towards you again, the Darkling was shaking slightly. You wondered if it was because of you, because of how he had helped you. After all, he was a living amplifier. Did he tire out if he helped someone else use their powers?

He gave you a smile that you found shier than his usual ones. You were used to see them filled with nothing but confidence, or threat sometimes. Now, the gesture was almost tender.

“I know you are tired,” he breathed, eyes capturing your gaze once more. “But my shoulder is very painful.”

“I can help,” you assured him, moving your hands into position, and his smile widened.

“Always so brave…” he muttered, but there was fondness in his deep voice. “Still, we should sit, for your leg.”

You nodded, and the two of you sat down side by side, not caring about the cold of the snow under you. He had a pretty nasty cut running across his shoulder, but it wasn’t very deep. It was much easier to heal than Andrei’s wounds.

“If you are too tired, it can wait till morning,” he offered, but you shook your head, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“If you help me, I can heal you now.”

He nodded, a silent order for you to get to work. Or rather… it looked perhaps more like a question, like he asked for a favour. You were happy to comply either way.

He felt better now, his shoulder almost completely healed in a matter of minutes, the throbbing pain fading away a little more with each movement of your fingers over his shoulder, despite the itchy sensation that came with the mending of his flesh. And the reassuring warmth of your skin against his…

Earlier that day, he looked for you through the battlefield. He shouldn’t have. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows. You wouldn’t linger the way he would. Like his darkness, you would be gone with the first signs of dawn.

Still, at the most violent part of the battle, his eyes looked for you, without him noticing. Like they were meant to search for your frame through the chaos.

He shouldn’t have. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows…

“How is your leg?” he asked once the pain across his arm and back had almost vanished, knowing you were almost done.

“It’s just a flesh wound. It’s nothing. And to be honest, I’m too tired to think about it.”

“I’ll bandage it for you.”

He wasn’t asking for permission this time, he was stating a fact, almost giving an order. You nodded in a silent agreement.

You wondered how he did it. Once you were done, there was still a long, reddened line crossing his shoulder blade. It must have been extremely painful, and yet, he had remained stern for hours, not a single wince forming on his features throughout your crazy run through the battlefield, through the forest…

Was he so used to being hurt after so many battles that he had mastered hiding his pain to perfection?

You could never have guessed how true that was…

“I’m done,” you spoke at last. “It might remain painful for a few days, I’m sorry.”

But he smiled at you, his head tilted a little to the side, something amused on his features now.

“There is no need to be sorry, you’ve done a good job.”

He moved his shoulder a little, as if to prove a point.

His fingers didn’t move away from your pulse though… burning…. Burning through your skin…

“Do you need anything else, sir?” you asked, thinking that was the reason behind his lingering touch.

It wasn’t. It simply… it simply felt good. To touch somebody, no matter how innocent that touch might be. Skin against skin. Feeling your pulse, the rhythm of your heartbeat, directly under his fingertips…

It was a luxury to him. Had always been. When you were to be a prey, you needed to choose the moments to reveal your weaknesses carefully, or you would be devoured.

He was more of a predator himself now. He had grown into one, had taken a hold of these shadows that scared him as a child, had become ruthless with time. For the most part, at least.

Still, he craved for it. The simple contact of another human’s skin against his, even if it were to last for a mere moment, for just a second…

And you had been allowing him to touch you for what felt like hours now. He could barely breathe at the thought.

He trusted you enough to let you feel it. The power that ran through his bones. The curse that made him undying. That made him linger even after all was gone. That made him run away again, and again, without any place to fall down to…

He let you feel it, running through your veins, and he trusted you enough to believe that you would not crave for more after he would pull away. He hoped that if you touched him again, it would be to touch him, not his power.

He moved his fingers to hold your wrist more firmly, and his thumb grazed the inside of your wrist, brushing your pulse, making your heart stumble. You were used to it now, to the power of the amplifier. You weren’t used to his touch, though. You weren’t sure you would ever be…

You weren’t certain why you started crying. Why now. You had not shed a tear during the battle, afterwards, as you fled, as you healed your friends, as you saw their dead bodies… You hadn’t cried at all despite everything that had happened. And yet… yet now you were letting a tear roll down your cheek, looking down at the snow to flee the Darkling’s gaze, to run from everything…

You shuddered, leaned into his touch, when he brushed your tear away from your cheek, touch gentle, delicate, barely there at all… almost like a dream… like a passing thing, one of his shadows…

“I’m sorry for today,” he whispered, and you looked up at the sound of his voice, frowning a little.

It was shaking, fragile. Deep still, laced with something that came from darkness but he looked so human now…

“None of this was your fault,” you replied, letting him brush another of your tears away.

“It was though. I was the one in charge. It was my fault.”

“It was the King’s fault. Even you have to obey sometimes.”

He clenched his jaw for a second, because you were right. Even he had to obey. Had to let Grisha die over nothing but a piece of land.

One day though, he wouldn’t have to. He would be the one to take decisions, and then the Grisha would be safe, at long last. It was an old promise he had made to himself, he intended to keep it…

But the worry quickly disappeared from his gaze, he relaxed again, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips now.

“Only sometimes, though.”

You exchanged a smile, and you felt safer now. Safer than you had felt ever since you had left the protection of the Little Palace. But was it surprising? He was the reason why the Little Palace was safe to begin with…

You didn’t know why, but you were certain nothing would happen to you under his watch. Maybe it was a fool’s hope, some heavy denial after being so close to Death all day… you weren’t sure. But then again, no one could survive without hope…

And he should never have touched you like this. He shouldn’t have let you feel the power you could earn from him. He shouldn’t have let himself grow fond of you in the first place, because maybe now it was something a little more than that… He was too old, he had lived too many lives to fall into this kind of traps.

Or was he?

It was better not to tread on this. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows. You would disappear with the first signs of dawn, and he would linger on. The curse of this power running through his bones…

Slowly, he pulled his fingers away from your face, released your wrist, left your pulse, ran from the steady beat of it. And all that was left against his skin was a cold, howling gush of wind.

There was nothing he could hold onto anyway. He would outlast them all. He would outlast you, by a hundred years, maybe even more, maybe even a thousand.

He would remember those eyes though, he knew he would. And it would hurt to remember them, in the deepest darkness he summoned. Two eyes staring right into his souls. Two eyes he could have fallen for, in another life, one that could end with yours…

He saw your lower lip trembling a little as you looked up at him, the way your eyes dropped to look at your wrist, where his fingers had been. And then he was afraid of his own shadows all over again, the same he was as a child.

Were you rubbing that spot on your wrist because of his touch, or because of the power it had given you for a moment?

You didn’t look up at him as you reached for his arm, hand clinging to his torn, dirty, stained kefta. You were pretty sure you weren’t allowed to do this, to lean against him, to hold onto his arm, to rest your forehead against his shoulder. It didn’t matter. You missed the effect he had on you too much for that.

Calm. Safe. Beating heart pounding with life despite the sorrow.

He was grateful that you weren’t looking at him. He could let tears form in his dark eyes then, although he couldn’t let them run down his cheeks, couldn’t let them free. Appearing, that was already a lot…

You couldn’t feel his amplifying powers through his kefta. It required skin-on-skin contact. And yet, you were still there, pressing yourself against him, holding tight, as if to a lifeline.

When he wrapped his arm around your frame, pulling you closer, holding you tight, he was shaking a little. It was okay, he didn’t mind, and neither did you. It felt too good to mind.

Calm. Safe. Beating heart pounding with life despite the sorrow.

When he reached for your hand, when he pressed his lips to your head, he didn’t mind that you would feel what he was. The power hidden in his bones, that promised him an eternity, but only spent alone.

And you didn’t mind it either. You weren’t scared of it. You didn’t crave for it. It felt more like a burden than anything else.

You were right about that.

And he shouldn’t have done any of this, shouldn’t have let himself slip so far. He should have run, the way he always did, the way his mother had taught him to, the way he had learnt by himself. You were but a passing thing, like one of his shadows. You would be gone with the first signs of dawn…

Still, he remained, for once.

Just for the night, while the world still lingered in darkness, maybe he could have that. Maybe he could have you, for just a few hours, before letting you run away, like he always did.

Maybe, for just a few dark hours, it could be enough.

****************

Taglist : @wolfmoonmusic @reg-arcturus-black

[restinslices]

Mortality

Jesper Fahey x Spouse (no gender specified) Word count: 2150 Summary: You and Jesper aged differently. You aged as any Otkazat’sya did. Jesper on the other hand is Grisha and ages much slower. As your mortality gets closer and closer, you and Jesper have a much needed talk. Wrote this on my phone at midnight😀

People could say a lot of negative things about Jesper Fahey. 

He was a shit gambler, a flirt, a drunk, he didn't think, he could be selfish at times, he could give you a headache with one sentence, among other things that could make anyone go in the opposite direction. 

But it was impossible to say he wasn't loving. Jesper held onto people and treated everyone like family, even when there were conflicts. There were plenty of times when you and Jesper would have a disagreement, yet he still looked at you like he'd both die and kill for you. Jesper could sometimes make promises he'd easily break for the right price. The promises he made to you though? There was no card game, no shiny gun, no heist, no amount of cash that could make him turn on you. 

Jesper supposed that's how he got himself to where he was now and honestly? He wasn't sure he liked it. 

Was it selfish to say apart of him wished you two never became something more or maybe that he never met you? Was it selfish to look at your aging body and wish he walked away and stayed away after The Ice Court heist? Maybe. He wasn't sure he cared though. 

Aging gave him a tap on the shoulder, but aging slammed into you. That didn't mean you were unattractive in his eyes, it just meant your body felt the stings of aging. Bad knees, hips, shoulder pains, wrinkles, all that was normal and expected. Jesper practically looked the same as he did when you two met. You were closer to death but he felt like the true ghost; forever stuck in a single moment. No changes to himself, only to his environment and the people around him. 

Or maybe even a time loop, but only for himself. Everyone else was free and moved on. Not him though. 

Jesper didn't realize he was staring until you said something, 

“A penny for your thoughts?”. 

“What?”

“You're staring”

“Oh” Jesper said with realization, “an accident”. Partially true. 

He smoothed out the blankets in front of him to distract himself but that worked as well as anyone would imagine. Your face was imprinted on his mind, and although Jesper could've just laid down and went straight to sleep, he knew it'd be all he'd see when he closed his eyes. 

Jesper heard you close and set your book down, then felt your eyes on him. 

“What're you doing?”

“Smoothing these blankets. They're quite wrinkly”

“Why?”

“Why? Why does anyone do anything?”

You sighed, “why won't you look at me?”

“I'm getting rid of the wrinkles on this blanket like I said”

“Because you can't get rid of mine?”. Jesper's hands stopped moving and he finally looked at you and another wave of sorrow hit him. Why did your inevitable death hit him so hard? 

Maybe it was because you were the last one left. 

Kaz, Inej, Wylan, Matthias, they were all gone by now. Matthias’ death was the first hit he received since his mom passed and as time went on the rest of his family, even if not by blood, passed on. Sure, he had Nina but Nina’s home was Ravka. Nina was more often busy than not and she was not the fondest of Kerch. Many times you suggested moving to Ravka for a “change of scenery”. He knew the truth though. You wanted him to get used to living somewhere else so he could be closer to Nina and not alone. You were the last consistent thing attached to his younger life and by some twist of fate, he'd be doomed to outlive majority of the people he met. He wondered if he did something awful in a past life to deserve this. 

“You've gone quiet again Jes”

He shook his head. “I don't know what to say”

“Too much on your brain? Don't know how to get it out?”. He assumed you took his silence as an answer because next you said “just say whatever, even if it doesn't make sense”. 

He took a deep breath then. It's not like you two hasn't talked about this before, but it was usually a small conversation that he'd slip his way out of with some dumb excuse. 

“I have something to do”. “I'm tired”. “Let's go eat”. “I have to go write a letter”. The list went on and on. This time though he couldn't think of an excuse and with limited time, he knew he had to speak to your living body now instead of a tombstone. 

“I don't think I'm ready to do this without you”

“Do what?”

“Live”. It came out breathy and quiet. He could tell he had upset you by how deep your frown was. Or maybe that was another sign of aging. He couldn't tell. 

“I can't do it”. 

“Yes you can”

“I can't”

“Jesper Fahey you can break into a Fjerdan Ice Court, escape, survive months at sea with Kaz Brekker, go toe to toe with every gang in Ketterdam and you still use the words 'I can't’?”. In any other circumstance he would've laughed and made some comment about how amazing he is. He didn't this time though. Nothing really felt enjoyable or funny anymore. Not when you could have some attack at any moment and be gone. 

“You're beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely stunning. I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as you”

“There's the stars and sea yet I’m the most beautiful thing you've seen?”. 

He nodded. “Absolutely”. 

“Is that why you're with me then? My charming looks?”

“You could look like all things wrong with the world and I'd still want you”

“Jesper the poet? I think I like it”. Your fragile hand held his and your eyes locked onto his. “You can live without me-”

“I can't”. The tears he had been fighting so hard to keep away finally slipped. He didn't bother wiping them away, too scared to let go of your hand. “I wanna be able to but I can't”

“Why?”. 

“Why?”, he  repeated. “I just can't”. 

Your thumb rubbing over his hand soothed him for a moment, but only a moment. That calmness died when you spoke again. 

“If this is hard for you, you can go. You don't have to see me like this”

“Where would I go?”, he asked with furrowed brows and a mix of hurt and confusion etched on his face. 

You shrugged. “Ravka maybe? Make it your new home-”

“My home is here. With you”

“You'll have to find a new one when I go”. 

His hand slipped from yours, frustration building in his chest. It all sounded so easy but it was only easy because you were the one dying. You wouldn't have to feel another part of you ripped away. You wouldn't feel anything anymore. He would. 

He'd think about it almost everyday and a hole would form in his chest and pull him into this thick fog and within this fog he'd hear the future. He'd hear a heart monitor go flat. He'd hear your breathing become shallow before it eventually stopped. He'd hear his own crying. Yet you would come along and act as if everything was alright. You'd be calm and fine while he was breaking on the inside. 

“Jesper Fahey, I am going to die and there's nothing you can do about it”. 

“What?”

“Jesper Fahey, I am going to die and there's nothing you can do about it”. 

“Stop”. 

But you didn't stop. You repeated it again and again and he thought he must've been hallucinating and finally reached his breaking point. He covered his ears but you grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers with his. You opened your mouth but he cut you off with a broken voice. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you don't understand you can't control this”

“I understand fully” he said quickly. “That's the whole problem. Can you stop being calm and show some sort of emotion for once?”

“What do you want me to do? To cry? To think about it and stress myself to a migraine like you do everyday?”. He hated how you looked at him then; with pity. It felt like with one foot in the grave, you'd always use the other to stay near him and soothe him and it made him feel selfish. “You wanna know how I feel?”. He didn't answer but you continued anyway. “I am terrified of death. Faith exists to calm us of this fear but honestly, I'm still scared. I don't know what's next. I don't know how it'll feel. I don't know if I'll see a light or if I'll be in darkness. I don't know how I'll go out and I don't know how it'll feel to take my last breath. I'm terrified but worrying about it everyday? That's not living. I'll be on my deathbed slipping away and all I'll think about is how I should've lived more”

“You are so stressed about me dying but honestly Jes? You're just making yourself live through the inevitable every single day. We should be loving each other now more than ever when we have the time. We're gonna get to my final moments and we'll both have regrets, the only difference is you'll have to live with yours”. 

Jesper couldn't help but let tears fall from his eyes. He knew you were right and that he should be holding you close during this time, but he couldn't help but listen to the tiny voice in his head that drove him insane everyday. Everyday was a reminder that for some unknown reason, he'd live much longer. Years would pass and he'd forget your face and always have to look at pictures or letters to remember you. One day he'd even forget your voice. How long would that take? 10 years? 20? 30? 

The more he thought, the more his breathing became erratic and his vision blurred. Blinking away tears didn't work. They'd just come back. You guided his head to your shoulder before your hand found its way to his back to rub circles on it. Jesper wasn't known to cry, but he cried. Hard. And you let him. When his breathing returned to normal, it wasn't because he was no longer sad. It was because he was exhausted. His eyes and nose had gone red by now and his face felt incredibly sore. 

When he quieted down, you spoke again. “I want to love you while I still can but if you don't want to see what'll eventually happen… I’m… I'm willing to let you go”. It was hard for you to say. He could tell because of how quiet it came out. Were you willing to? Probably. Did you want to? Absolutely not. He didn't need to ask or look at you to know. 

Jesper had a big choice to make. He stayed, spent the rest of your life with you and eventually buried you or he could leave and try to get a jumpstart at a new life. He wouldn't see age continue to eat at you and when your time came, he wouldn't be there. He'd be leaving you alone. He probably wouldn't know exactly when you died. Years would pass and he'd just guess that you were gone. 

Jesper was ashamed of how long it took him to make a decision. Leaving seemed so good. The pain of watching you continue to grow old would be no more, but then he'd be left with another pain; the pain of never seeing you again. Of knowing he abandoned you when all you wanted was to hold him close. You had no family and no notable friends besides him and Nina now. You'd probably be found and with no one to identify you, who knew what would become of your body in Kerch. A body with no name. And he'd become a body with no home. 

“I'm not going anywhere”. He finally lifted his head up to look at you and although he still felt that pang in his heart, he didn't look away and try to avoid your gaze. He just looked at you, mapping every detail of your face so he could look back and remember just how beautiful you were when you're gone. 

“I am so going to miss you”

“Of course you will” you said with a small smile and you finally got a chuckle out of him, even if it was small. 

You didn't have forever. You both knew you were on limited time and one day you'd be apart, but you both promised to love and cherish the time you still had together and maybe, just maybe, you'd see each other in the next life when the sun finally set on the both of you. 

I am feral for this man in the most wholesome way possible. Legit just wanna hold his hand and hear him talk about dumb shit.