#i miss kaz already

[theseerbetweenus]

Thank you for your work on the series and being my comfort spot. I will never forgive Netflix from taking them from us.

[lesbiansanemi]

I need to become a home owner so I can own as many pets as I want I am in desperate need of a naked cat, a borzoi, and a pitbull

[kazville]

fucking p!owen saying “well thats a goner“ when aimsey went into the purple area thingy you MOTHERFUCKER YOU KNEWWWW

[demonsfate]

stop trying to make protagonist kazuya + villain jin happen. it's not going to happen.

[evermore-crow]

me on my birthday: won’t anyone update/post their kanej fic for my birthday 🥺

[lostcndfound]

Goes by: Aubrey Shaw

Nickname: Bree if very close.

Age: Just shy of 30 when he died, technically he's pushing sixty.

Height: 5ft10

Pronouns and gender: He/him, man

What they are: Vampire

Personality: Chatty, excitable, open, caring, expressive, pigheaded, prone to flights of fancy and stupid arguments. Can be a know-it-all.

Style and Appearance: Low effort but punky most of the time, self customized clothes, heavy stitching, patches, denim and real leather. Scruffy and chill. When he's filming or taking pictures, then it steps up, leaning further into what's already there.

Piercings and Tattoos: None. They don't last.

Scars and Distinguishing Marks: Small scar above his left eyebrow, and then the bite mark on his right wrist.

Sexuality: Doesn't believe in labels, but I think they're a useful tool for communication when it comes to fictional characters. So he's heavily masc leaning bisexual. In that it's rare he's attracted to women, but not unheard of. Considers himself quite vanilla... outside of the fact he's a massive monster fucker who is into a lot of weird shit. But he's totally vanilla, haha.

Abilities: Doesn't age. Increased strength and speed. Doesn't need to consume human food, mild hypnotic skills - jokingly called the jedi mind trick -, any harm that doesn't outright kill him usually heals overnight. Heavier damage might take a few days. Yes it includes regrowing limbs. It's fucking weird. He's tested the parameters.

Weaknesses: Sunlight. It's not an immediate killer, but it drains and exhausts him and can knock him out, and after that he can die of overexposure. Needs to consume blood. Silver. Considers how immutable his body is to change a weakness. Cannot get a good nights sleep.

Links: Canon - Media - Fun Stuff - Aesthetic - Music - Threads

Bits and Pieces

Is a trans man, and is damn glad he physically transitioned prior to getting bitten cause fuck that if his body wouldn't've changed anymore. As it stands he has top surgery, it's not the best quality work, he doesn't like people touching his chest because of it. Had been on HRT for years, a good side effect of the immutable body thing, he doesn't need to take it for all eternity.

Will frequently get tattoos and piercings, but they never stick. Piercings closing up overnight and tattoos fading within a day or two. Also will change his hair on a whim, shave it off, dye it, whatever, knowing it will frustratingly return to the exact same length and color in a matter of days.

Terminally online in a very weird way. Runs a youtube channel dedicated to cryptids and urban legends, films on location across the country. Has a connected instagram that's full of bastardcore/weirdcore/deepfried weird ass shit about monster fucking.

Completely unrelated to that is his more legitimate travel blog and freelance journalism. Names completely separated. He wants no cross-pollination.

Got bitten in the mid 90s on halloween. He was dressed as David from the Lost Boys and an actual vampire thought that was funny. He was way too into the idea, way too quickly, and might not have been thinking with his head. Not that he regrets it that much.

Lives out of his car, with his dog, a small hound cross of some kind, named Opal.

Loves all things aliens and cryptids.

Born and raised just outside of Flagstaff, Arizona. Has a younger sister who has just become a grandmother for the first time. They're all weirdly chill with the vampire thing, and he sees them a few times a year. Went to college in LA and was living there still when he got bitten.

Dude needs a damn nap. He's running on fumes 24/7.

[neeeooon]

video game lover !

1 | may the best bro win

cw. cussing, kys joke (one)

you screamed into your headset as your character flew out of frame for the third time, meaning you officially lost the match. again. “y/n!” karasu scolded on the other side of you, so loud that you heard him through your headphones. “my ears!”

hiori was laughing lightly on his end of the call, either from your embarrassing loss or from his chat. your face flamed as your viewers spammed “rip” and “L” in the chat.

“guys, come on, it’s rigged!” you tried, owning your sore loser-ness. “rematch! let me get a better controller—“

“we already played four rounds, y/n. a deal is a deal.” the plan was to play five, but you only managed to win once, so it was statistically impossible for you to win the game. “3-1. i win. text me your login info.”

“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you!”

masterlist // previous (ch 0) // next (ch 2)

notes -> planning like 2 or 3 chs left 🙏

tags -> @lovingmayday @hioriyolover @mymeloreo @l1f3isf00d @bigclownshoes @x3nafix @luvsymai @s4turnx1 @ravenbc @ohagiyoo @miss-aesthetic-13 @academiq @practicoi @n0tbelle @sevarchive @inojinieeee @narcjsistx @ihsoti @pixelpancakes @ume356 @blu3-l0v3r @mivqko @n0ah-hal00 @cutonmyrt @starlvcied @kyaanii @ro4love @heididaily104 @idexmids @jimabbenamara @kuronarnze @demiitria @pctterheadd @kaz-0e @sapphireluv @kim1chii @90s-belladonna @literallyushiwaka @itz-phantomz @tired-child00 @realrintaro @5-laska @akis-crazy-world @sagging-saging @minlahzz @sickly-cute @risagichi @shaeies @sasukevrz @milkbugzz

[narcissisticmf]

jumped | kaz brekker x fem!reader

description: y/n is out one night getting supplies for the black veil and on her way back, she gets mugged. when she returns to the tomb, everyone is concerned.

trigger warnings: graphic violence, assault, descriptions of minor injuries, blood, angst, seductive behavior, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 2.6k

Rain tapped against the cobblestones as you made your way back to the gondel. Its rope was tied to the docks, securing its place. A cloak was draped over your shoulders as the hood was pulled over your head, concealing your face from potential threats.

In your grasp, you carried a large paper bag that was filled with canned goods and other essentials the tomb was lacking. Each week, you rotated with the other Crows who would go out and retrieve supplies. You didn't mind going out, but it was dangerous to do so under the circumstances.

As you placed the filled bag gently into the gondel, you stood up straight and reached for the rope that was tied to the dock. Your hand froze as you heard several heavy footsteps coming from behind you.

You swore under your breath and reached inside your cloak to the bow and arrows that were concealed perfectly. You made haste with pulling your weapons out. You drew an arrow into your bow and pulled back with precision as you turned your whole body in the sound of the direction of the footsteps.

The rain continued to fall and the subtle haze that formed across the docks blurred your vision. The sun was already setting and the torches that lit the town were burning out from the rapid fall of rain.

Your lips parted just slightly as you controlled your breath. Your eyes flickered to the left as you heard the footsteps approach closer. Your heartbeat was steady, unafraid and unyielding.

A dark shadow was casted in front of you on the docks. You couldn't make out the face, but you had a gut feeling that whomever the person had been was not approaching for casual conversation.

As a way of warning, you released your grip onto the bow and shot an arrow clean past the person's right ear. To your dismay, they did not slow down nor turn around. You released a soft grunt of frustration and drew back another arrow.

"Whomever you are, leave now," You spoke with pure authority, not once did your voice waver. They continued stepping forward and reached into their jacket to pull out a freshly sharpened knife. Your eyes glanced at the weapon. You swallowed thickly and aimed your arrow, not at them, but at their hand which held a tight grip on the knife. "Leave now," You spoke through gritted teeth. "I promise I won't miss this time.. if you choose not to walk away."

Your threats didn't seem to make much of a difference to the body before you. You lifted your gaze to their dark hooded eyes. The haze from the rain didn't make it easy to tell who they were, but it didn't seem to matter in the moment.

Swiftly, the person before you charged forth with the knife gripped tightly in their hand. You dodged the strike by bending forward and getting behind them. You held your arrow out and shot at their leg. It struck them in the calf as you smirked at the grunt that left their lips. It sounded like a man, but you weren't too sure.

They reached down their left and ripped the arrow from their fresh, bloody wound. Snapping the arrow in half, they stood and rushed towards you again, pinning you to the slick, wet ground. Shocked by the sudden drop, you breathed quickly for a few moments before reaching up with a free hand to punch them square in the nose. They staggered off of you and held their gushing, bloody nose.

You quickly went for the gondel as they were distracted, and hopefully a little delirious. You untied the ropes and hopped into the boat, ready to make your way back to the tomb. You let out a harsh, guttural scream as a wave of sharp pain filled your right shoulder. You looked back to see the person standing there with empty hands. You lowered your gaze to the knife that was lodged into your shoulder, deep and painful.

You winced and made a horrible attempt at rowing with your non-dominant arm. Blood was seeping from your shoulder and soaking your cloak. The metallic smell filled your nostrils. Stains of the thick red liquid soaked into the bottom of the boat and on the paper bag that was filled with supplies for the tomb.

.

Grunting in pain, you pulled the gondel up onto the wet ground and tied it with your left hand to a tree nearby the water. You winced as you leaned into the boat to grab the paper bag and stumbled towards the tomb. Your vision blurred with black dots as you walked through the cemetery, the rain still pouring ferociously.

Eventually, you made it to the tomb (you weren't even sure how you managed it, but you did). You carelessly dropped the bag onto the table and grunted. Your breathing was harsh. Wylan, Jesper and Matthias were seated on the couch as you made your way in. You removed your hood off your head and turned to see a trail of blood you left behind stepping inside. The three of them stood up and walked towards you.

"What the hell happened?" Jesper asked, dragging out each word.

"Are you okay?" Matthias asked.

"Sit down, Y/N," Wylan suggested as he pulled a chair out for you.

They didn't seem to have noticed the knife protruding from your shoulder until the moment you sat down. You winced in pain, tightening your jaw.

"Oh shit," Jesper murmured.

"Can one of you three idiots get Nina?!" You hadn't meant to raise your voice, but you were in such pain you weren't in full control over your actions.

"Right!" Wylan left to find Nina somewhere in the tomb.

Eventually, Kaz appeared with a locked jaw and sharp eyes. If he was concerned, he didn't appear to be. He was good at concealing his emotions.

"What happened?" He questioned as he came around the table to look at you directly.

"Well, I went into town to get supplies," You replied and held your arm tightly, starting to see more and more black dots in your vision.

"I got her!" Wylan pronounced as he came back to the room with both Nina and Inej.

"Oh Saints.." Nina whispered and stared at you in the chair with the knife through your shoulder.

"Hello to you too," You gritted as Nina pulled a chair to sit before you. She got to work quickly, but kept careful with every motion she made.

"I'm still waiting for a legitimate answer," Kaz stated with an irritant tone.

"Okay," You exhaled, "I was on my way back to the gondel when someone was coming from behind me." You explained, "I shot a warning at them, but they didn't stop. At one point, they pinned me down so I think I broke their nose and then I made a run for it to get to the boat and as I was making my miserable getaway, they threw the knife at me."

Nina successfully removed the knife and wasted no time in covering it. You hissed when she cleaned the wound with aged whiskey. You sighed after the wound was clothed in the protectant guaze.

"Thanks, Nina," You whispered.

"You lost a lot of blood, you should rest," She pulled her lips into a tight, thin smile.

"From now on, we get supplies in pairs," Kaz announced to no one in particular. "I don't want anything like this to happen again." And then, he was gone.

.

Inside a small room, you attempted to fill a copper tub with boiled water to wash away the dirt and blood that coated your body. Your cloak had nearly been ruined, but Inej reassured you that she would try and patch it up. As you used your uninjured arm to pour the water into the tub, you hissed feeling the strain against your right shoulder.

"Need help?" Kaz entered the room, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. His cane was nowhere in sight.

"Uhm, yeah," You whispered. You almost didn't hear yourself speak.

Kaz pushed himself off the wall and helped you pour the water into the copper tub. It took a bit more time to fill the tub than you would've liked. You stared at Kaz's profile as he continued pouring in the water.

"Enjoying the view?" Kaz questioned without breaking into a smile. You didn't respond, instead you merely continued gazing. "I charge twenty kruge for a show, but I can give you a minor discount," He finally met your gaze and swallowed thickly.

"Kaz Brekker making flirtatious jokes? Somebody must write this down," Your lips formed a small grin.

Kaz's lips curved upward into a slight smile. With the others, he was always stoic but around you there were moments when Kaz could relax. His shoulders eased just a bit and his furrowed brows released the tension.

"Are you well?" You asked in the comfortable stillness.

"You just got knifed in the shoulder and you're asking me if I'm well?" Kaz questioned, staring at you intently.

"I believe that was my question, yes," You nodded.

Kaz broke the eye contact and went to pour more water into the tub when it was finished boiling. He didn't entertain your question with a response, instead he continued filling the tub.

"I'm still waiting for a legitimate answer," You stood slightly up on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear the same thing he said to you not too long ago.

"I'm well," He replied with amusement in his gaze as he looked at you.

"Good," You whispered and stepped back away from him for a moment. The tub was nearly full so you started to unbutton your pants. Kaz wasn't looking, but you got the sense that he could see everything from where he stood. He had his jaw clenched, almost as if he were fighting his inner thoughts.

"Can I help?" He didn't look at you when he asked. He could see you struggling due to your injured arm.

Your breath caught in your throat as you blinked and looked up to him. "Sure," You nodded and then added, "Please."

Kaz placed the pot of water back down and walked towards you. You gazed at him as your palms began to produce a thin layer of sweat. He removed his gloves and placed them on the small table beside you. You looked up to his face, but his gaze was locked downward, as his hands moved to the button of your pants. He unclasped it effortlessly and, only then, did he raise his eyes to look into yours.

There was silence for a long while. At least, it felt like a long while.

"Thank you," You whispered.

Kaz didn't respond to your gratitude and inside nodded once with a mere dip of his chin. You weren't sure if it was because of how close the two of you stood, but you could almost hear the rapid thumping of his heart.. or maybe it was your heart.

He stepped back one step and swallowed, "Is that enough water?"

You turned your eyes to the copper tub and nodded mindlessly, completely forgetting about the bath you planned to take.

"Yes," You nodded.

"Okay," Kaz bowed his head once. "Then, I'll be on my way. You'll rest afterwards?"

You nodded softly, not trusting your own voice.

"Good," He turned and headed for the doorway, but you reached out to grasp his wrist. Kaz met your eyes again with a question in them that needed no words.

"Stay," You exhaled. "Stay with me, please." You weren't sure if your voice was shaking or if your body was shaking, but frankly you didn't seem to care in the moment. "I don't want to be alone," You stated once you trusted your voice again.

Kaz looked as though he might've been contemplating and, eventually, he slowly nodded. You sighed contently and began to remove your clothing. It didn't seem to phase either of you, but something in the room was different. You looked up to Kaz when you couldn't quite shimmy out of your top.

He stepped forward and assisted you in removing the top. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked at Kaz. His gaze was hard, yet soft. He looked as though he could devour you in that very moment, but something had a strong grip on him. His pride, perhaps, you thought.

Kaz helped you out of the rest of you garments and assisted you into the bubbly and soapy tub. The water was warm against your greasy and dirt-covered skin. Kaz pulled a chair out to sit beside the tub, letting his bad leg stretch out. It must've felt relieving to be able to take the weight off it for a while, since he hadn't come in with his cane.

"Thank you," You whispered and leaned your head back against the tub.

He nodded again, gazing at you with both admiration and hunger. You couldn't quite differentiate the two; not that they were all that much different anyway.

You made sure not to get your wrapped arm wet as you reached for a bar of soap to clean your hair with.

"Allow me," Kaz spoke softly as he reached for the soap. You nodded with a small smile and turned so that he could easily wash your hair. His hands were perfectly pale and they felt nice as he massaged your scalp and scrubbed the soap in between the strands.

"Perhaps, if the thug life doesn't suit you forever, you might think of becoming a barber," You smiled as you head was leaned back against the tub.

"I will take it into consideration," Kaz grinned, you could hear it in his voice as your eyes were closed.

Silence stirred in the room. The only sound came from Kaz rinsing your hair after washing it. You sat there for a while, until the water ran cold.

"I'm sorry about what happened," Kaz whispered. "I should've been there."

"What?" You turned to face him, your chest covered by all the bubbles. Kaz looked at you with a nervous and uneasy gaze. "Kaz, there isn't anything you or anyone else could've done."

"I could've helped you," He replied, almost sadly.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" You asked and reached your good arm over to gently grasp his ungloved hand. They were warm and soft. You stared at your hands for a moment and breathed deeply. Kaz must've been feeling the same way because his chest rose and fell rapidly.

"I don't want anything like this to happen again," He repeated his words from earlier, but this time it was in a whisper. Kaz leaned closer to you as you stared at him with a beautiful gaze.

You gently squeezed his hand as his lips found yours. It was a kiss filled with longing and passion, but it was soft. He tasted of smoke and pinewood. You leaned your head back gently a little bit as his other hand cupped your face.

Slowly, you pulled back and felt your cheeks warm with heat. Kaz stared at you lovingly.

"So," You whispered, "are you gonna come join me?" Your eyes were filled with mischief as you gently grazed your fingers across the surface of the water.

Kaz smiled, coyly, in response and shrugged off his coat.

.

a/n: SO i just started reading six of crows, i'm half way through crooked kingdom and i'm in LOVE dude. i need to watch the show when i finish with the book. i hope you guys like this and that was okayish?? i'm kinda proud of it! if you want more six of crows stuff, PLEASE let me know!! ily guys so much!! mwah! <3 — angelina.

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 8

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, mention of drugs, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk.

a/n: i kinda liked this chapter.

previous / masterlist / next

today was the day where kazuki was finally set to get out of the hospital. your cute baby boy is now very strong and can live without those horrendous tubes and machines in his body. you can also finally hold him whole in your hands.

you watch the nurses prepare the discharge of your baby while satoru was also here with you, holding your baby's documents on his hand as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your son.

the two of you had been waiting for this time. satoru even bought a new house for the three of you, all in complete furnished and ready to live in.

after some time, the nurses finally presented your son. kazuki lay bundled in a soft, pale blue blanket—no more tubes in his nose, no more wires taped across his delicate skin. just his tiny chest rising and falling peacefully, his eyes fluttering open every now and then as if sensing the change in atmosphere.

you were already crying—you're trying not to, but you failed terribly. the sight of your son without a single machine attached to him felt like a miracle sewn together by prayers and stubborn hope.

one of the nurses gave you a warm smile. “he’s good to go. he passed all his vitals overnight. you can finally take him home.”

you nodded, biting your trembling lip, and reached out to take him.

for the first time, your arms wrapped around your son with nothing in between—no glass, no cords, no barriers.

just skin to skin. warmth to warmth. mother to child.

kazuki is much heavier now. not by much, but enough for you to notice. his small body sank perfectly into the curve of your arms, his head nuzzled gently against your chest like he knew exactly where he belonged.

meanwhile, satoru stood at your side, silent.

he’d been holding the discharge documents like they were something sacred, like they might crumble if he didn’t hold them just right. but the moment he saw kazuki in your arms—free, healthy, and alive—he blinked hard and cleared his throat.

you looked at him, and his gaze never left kazuki.

“he looked like me,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion.

you chuckled through your tears. “i swear, my genes didn't even put up a fight.”

a beat passed, and then satoru exhaled shakily. “i bought the softest baby mattress i could find. and the safest car seat. and a whole stash of pacifiers—like twenty, because i wasn’t sure which brand he’d like. i know i probably went overboard…”

you glanced at him, warmth blooming in your chest.

“overboard is okay,” you whispered. “he’s all worth it.”

satoru nodded and leaned closer. gently, he cupped kazuki’s head and kissed his tiny temple.

“i’ll protect him,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. “no matter what.”

“we'll protect him.” you paraphrased.

the nurse returned with final instructions, but the moment she handed you kazuki’s tiny hospital bracelet as a keepsake, it hit you again.

you made it.

he made it.

you, who almost died from placenta abruption. kazuki, who was born at six months, too early, too small. and even satoru, who had nearly lost everything before realizing what he truly had.

now, the three of you are going home.

as satoru carried the diaper bag and opened the hospital doors for you, the sunlight outside greeted you like an old friend.

you looked down at kazuki, smiling through the tears.

“let’s go home, baby.”

and this time…it really was home.

the new house was quiet.

but not with the awkward kind of silence that used to hang between you and satoru; tense, cold, and heavy—but the kind that came with peace. the kind that made everything feel slower, gentler…warmer.

kazuki’s nursery smelled faintly of baby powder and lavender-scented wipes. the walls were a soft sky blue, hand-painted with clouds and little birds that seemed to dance around the ceiling. a mobile above his crib spun slowly, playing a lullaby that had already become his favorite in the nicu.

you stood beside the crib, gently rocking kazuki in your arms. his little fist curled around your finger as he drifted off to sleep, breathing softly, the rise and fall of his chest bringing a strange ache to your heart—one of overwhelming love.

satoru entered the room quietly, holding a small bottle of warm milk and a pacifier in his other hand. he paused in the doorway, just watching you.

“do you want to hold him?” you asked softly without turning around, knowing he was there.

he stepped closer, setting the bottle down before reaching out. you carefully transferred kazuki into his arms. satoru’s movements were hesitant, like he was holding something made of glass—but once kazuki settled against him, satoru smiled.

“i still can’t believe he’s now here.,” he whispered, staring at kazuki like the baby boy was holding the entire universe.

you sat on the edge of the rocking chair, watching them with quiet fondness.

“shoko said she's going here tomorrow.” you watch his expression and you caught him swallowing.

“okay,” he mumbled as his finger reached into kazuki’s palm.

“still on bad terms?” you remember that shoko tells you her grievance and resentment towards him during your time at the hospital, specifically at the nicu.

“i guess you could say that…” he paused. “i mean, it's valid, knowing what i did to you.”

you nodded slowly, watching the way kazuki’s tiny fingers curled around satoru’s. even in his sleep, your son responded to touch like he knew he was safe now—cradled in the arms of someone trying to do better.

“she was angry,” you murmured. “angrier than i’d ever seen her.” you remembered her expression when she was attending you at the hospital. sure, she was careful with her hands and actions, but her face tells so.

satoru gave a soft, bitter laugh. “she told me to my face that i didn’t deserve you. that if something had happened to you or kazuki… she would never forgive me.”

his voice cracked at the end, and you glanced over, surprised to see his eyes glistening. he looked down at kazuki again, like anchoring himself to the child was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

“i didn’t know what i was doing,” he said, barely above a whisper. “i was scared. not of you—but of what being with you meant. of being forced to feel responsible for someone i didn't choose. and then i kept lying to myself… trying to act like you weren’t my wife. like this life wasn’t mine.”

this conversation again…he must've felt really guilty for continuing to bring this up.

not that you don't mind, you'd actually take these kinds of chances to voice out your thoughts too.

you let the silence settle for a moment before responding, your voice even.

“i didn’t choose it either, satoru. but i accepted it. for our clans, for peace, and eventually… for kazuki. i was terrified too, but i didn’t run from it.”

he looked at you now, really looked at you. and you could see it—guilt etched deep into his expression, guilt mixed with awe and something heavier: remorse.

you were quiet for a long while, eyes back on your baby, who let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

“you still have time to make it right,” you finally said. “not by words, but by staying. by trying. every single day.”

satoru swallowed again, and nodded. “i will. i promise.”

“please don't let me down like you always did before, satoru.”

just then, kazuki stirred with a soft coo, his mouth twitching into what looked like the beginning of a smile. you both leaned in instinctively.

“did he just smile?” satoru whispered, eyes wide.

you chuckled. “he’s probably dreaming about milk.”

satoru let out a quiet laugh, and for a second, it felt like things weren’t so broken after all.

you reached out and gently brushed Kazuki’s soft hair. “shoko’s going to tell you off again tomorrow, you know.”

“yeah,” satoru sighed dramatically. “she might even slap me.”

“she won’t,” you smiled. “well… maybe. but i can talk to her.”

the both of you shared a look. it was the first time in a long while that you weren’t just coexisting—but understanding each other.

maybe this wasn’t the fairytale beginning most people had.

but it was real. and it was yours.

and from the crib, kazuki slept peacefully—his tiny presence a reminder that something beautiful still came from all the pain.

—©luvvixu2025

taglists: @ginginha @funicidals @numblytemporary @miizuzu @khoiyyu @ropickle @mashtura @labelt-san @lwxsty

[alli-ily]

GIFTING SOME MOOTS🥰💜✨‼️

THIS IS FOR MY BAE @kazuww00 🤩🫶✨ I wanna test some colors so the results ended up like this hehe :'33

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, I honestly have no idea what to add anymore so if I missed out some details I am so sorry 😭😭🙏

I love Kaz's new design btw 🤩🫶✨ but since I already started this I might as well finish it, I hope you don't mind :'3

I will never forget the first art of my Sona that I received from you, you have no idea how I jumped and squealed like a fan girl 😭😭🙏✨ it was SAURR PRETTY AND NOT ONLY THAT YOU ALSO GAVE ME ONE FOR MY B'DAY FBIDIDHDJD 😭🥰💜✨ SO LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU BY THIS DRAWING 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

[er-osion]

Cruel Summer

pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

summary: A fic based on the song Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Reader is a Crow and has unfortunately fallen for their boss in the summer heat spell.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none, fluff

you can see the full taylor swift song-fic masterlist here

⋄∘∗⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄

You always seem to forget how unbearably hot Ketterdam can get in the summer, especially during a heat wave. Your skin is sweltering and sticking uncomfortably to your clothes. The summer sun is bright and accosting, hanging high above your head in the clear blue sky. You greatly missed the typical overcast weather and fog. The Crow Club was just a few blocks away, all you had to do was hold on until you got there, and then you could collapse at the bar and scarf down an icy drink. The mere idea of a cool beverage put a weary smile on your face and added a pep to your step.

The Club was rather full for a weekday afternoon. However, it made sense that people would be wanting to beat the heat here. Entertainment, food, drinks, and a relatively cool space, you didn’t blame the ‘pigeons’ one bit. Even though you knew he hated the heat, Kaz was always happy to see the boom in business during heat waves like this. You shook your head defiantly. This has been happening lately. Kaz, your boss, had been popping up in your head as of late, and at the most unnecessary times. Suddenly you’d become concerned with his likes, dislikes, moods, health, and so on and it was bugging you as all get-out.

It’s not that you didn’t like Kaz, quite the opposite, you liked and respected him a lot. He is, dare you say, a friend. But you didn’t think about your other friends as often as you did your cane-wielding boss, and that is the issue. You know he’s not a good guy. Though, how could anyone be a good person in this city? He’s bad. He’s honestly nearly a bad friend too. But this knowledge of the obvious has done nothing to discourage your traitorous brain from drawing up images of the man at times when you should certainly be focused on something else.

You arrived at the Club and saw Jesper sitting at the bar clearly waiting for a drink from the bartender. A half smile crept onto your face and you snuck up behind him.

“Hey, Jes.” You said calmly from your sudden place right beside him.

Jesper jumped, “Holy shit, you have got to stop doing that.” Your gunslinging best friend put his hand over his heart, taking deep breaths dramatically as he settled back into his seat.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” You shrugged, feigning innocence. “How’s it going today?”

“I think I might just melt.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You nodded your head in solemn agreement and ordered a drink. You took a moment to look around the club. You were searching for someone in particular but decided to pretend you were just surveying the floor. “Have you seen Brekker at all?” You questioned without even thinking and as the words left your mouth you wanted to smack yourself.

Jesper’s lips slipped into a teasing smirk as he lay his head in his hands. “I saw him earlier. He was watching the club for a bit and then went up to his office. Why? Is there some job you need to discuss with him? Or are you just looking for some unpleasant company?” Jesper’s tone was goading as he watched your face closely for a reaction.

Your brows furrowed in annoyance and you rolled your eyes. “I was only wondering because I’m not used to not hearing his nags. Usually he’d have griped about something one of us did or didn’t do right and I’m just now realizing how strange it is to not have heard that already.”

Jesper hummed, and you couldn’t tell if he was convinced or not. “Well if you’re looking to sour your already lovely mood, I’m sure you can find him in his office.”

You scoffed and motioned to the bartender for another drink, but not for you this time. “I think I’ve had my fill of Jesper Fahey for the day. I’ll go make sure the boss man hasn’t melted into a puddle with his layered wardrobe.” You got up from your stool and elected to ignore the teasing comment the gunslinger threw your way as you shuffled through the crowd and toward Kaz’s office.

You knocked on the wooden door and waited a few seconds before cracking the door slowly and entering. You were going to say something as you entered the room but the words died on your tongue when you caught sight of your boss.

Kaz was sitting at his large desk, a gift you and the other Crows had all pitched in to get him two years prior. His eyes were focused intently on the stack of papers in front of him, and you noticed how his styled hair threatened to fall apart and into his face. His jacket was hanging on the back of his leather chair. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and the sleeves of the black shirt had been rolled up past his forearms. The sunlight was streaming in through the two windows in the room, illuminating all the dust floaties that typically annoy you but at the moment seemed magical. All in all, your brain short circuited.

You stood there for several seconds, unmoving, simply staring watching Kaz in all his glory.

“Did you need something?” Kaz’s gruff voice broke you out of your stupor.

“Just came to give you this, really.” You explained carefully, walking toward him slowly and setting his drink down on the edge of the wooden desk. Kaz eyed the drink suspiciously with a raised eyebrow. “It wouldn’t exactly be good for my paycheck if you died of heat stroke.” You supplemented.

“How heroic of you.” Kaz scoffed, unimpressed and put his attention back on the papers in front of him. You rolled your eyes and looked around the room.

You grabbed one of the chairs in front of your boss’s desk and dragged it quietly to the window. He hadn’t told you to get lost, and for some reason, there wasn’t anywhere you’d rather be than Kaz’s stuffy office, right now. You sat down and pulled a book from your bag. You took one last cautious glance at Brekker before settling down into your chair and picking up your book from where you’d left off.

You spent the next several hours like this. You wouldn’t have even noticed any time had passed were it not for the movement of your light source –the sun. Somehow, this moment felt so clandestine. There was something so unnervingly domestic in the hours you’d just spent together. So unnerving that it felt as if the whole thing was some deep secret the two of you must take to your graves in order to keep your peace. You gently closed your book, as it had become a strain on your eyes to read in the dim lighting. You looked up at Kaz and saw he was getting out of his chair. Brekker unrolled his sleeves and you found yourself missing the delicious sight of his veiny forearms. Control yourself, you begged internally. Kaz slid on his jacket and purposefully put all his papers away. Then he turned to you and gave you an expectant look that had your heart hammering in your chest.

“Time to go, then?” You asked rhetorically, getting up as well and re-shouldering your bag.

In truth, Kaz had originally planned on working in his office at the club for a few more hours. In fact, he had also been planning on doing another round of surveying the floor a couple of hours ago, but had not done so. At the time, he didn’t want to leave your company and now, didn’t want you hurting your eyes trying to keep him company. Kaz picked up the empty glass on his desk to drop off at the bar on your way out. It had been his favorite summer drink. When did you figure that out? Did you even know? Either way, Dirtyhands had enjoyed the beverage far more than he should have.

You and Kaz walked together down the cobblestone road from the Club to the Slat. A comfortable silence hung between the two of you. Night had fallen so the street lights provided the only cheap illumination of the uneven pathway ahead. The temperature was still hotter than you’d ever prefer, but there was a constant cool breeze that kept you from staggering under the hot heavy air. Kaz’s cane clicked rhythmically against the ground as the two of you meandered toward the Slat.

You risked a glance at the boy beside you and felt your breath catch. It wasn’t fair. How could someone look so pretty just existing? Everyone would surely laugh you out of Kerch if they heard you thought the infamous Dirtyhands was pretty. But it’s true, in the weirdest of ways, Kaz Brekker is very pretty.

“Is there something on my face?” Kaz probed suddenly.

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise at the unanticipated interruption of the fragile silence.

“I said; Is there something on my face? You’re staring.”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at getting caught ogling. “Yes, I was trying to figure out what it was. It’s right here.” You lied with confidence, pointing to a random spot along your chin to show where you’d found the invisible spot on his face.

Kaz’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion and offense, but brushed his chin anyway.

“There you go.” You reassured him with a lilt.

“That book you were reading earlier…” Kaz paused, for the first time in a long time seemingly unsure about his next words, “is it good?” His voice grew quieter at the end and your lips pulled into an excited grin.

You instantly began an enthusiastic ramble about your latest book. Describing in detail the plot and your favorite and least favorite characters with rapid hand motions. Kaz originally only watched you through short glances, but quickly he took to rapt attention. You had enthralled him. The Bastard of the Barrel gazed with uncharacteristic interest as you went off about the book, mentally taking notes about all the things you spoke about with increased passion. He decided right then and there that his first errand tomorrow would be to the bookstore. He was overcome with the unusual desire to engage you in an equally eager discussion about this book he’d previously never heard of.

Kaz drank in your form and felt his heart thundering in his chest. He was growing warmer, and he subconsciously knew the weather was not to blame. Against the dark backdrop of the night and draped in the honey-color lamp light Kaz Brekker was sure you were an angel. Rolling your eyes at the stupid decisions a character you were describing had made, Kaz felt his heart roll with you.

Kaz kept you engaged by asking further questions about the book, specific enough to tell you he’d been listening attentively. Your heart soared at this demonstration and your grin widened impossibly. Words could not describe the joy this boy was giving you in this moment.

And all of the sudden, like a rock slide, your minds hit both of you with possibly the scariest and worst realization.

I love you.

The words were heavy on your tongues, too heavy to convey. Those three life changing words were not uttered, but the mutual realization was rocking. And as if your minds were truly connected, the both of you immediately blamed the dreaded summer for this unexpected awareness of your own feelings. It was this cruel summer to blame, obviously. The characteristic heat and the light of summer that was so unusual for Ketterdam that it made it easier to romanticize things. It tricked you. Lightening the quintessential gloomy mood of the Barrel and erupting feelings not fit for the reality of this city.

But at the same time, maybe it wasn’t so bad. You were putting the pieces together and finally understood the real reason behind your recently pleasant mood. Falling in love with Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, may not be the smartest decision, but it was a decision that evoked the most wonderful feelings. Your skin was itching and butterflies danced in your stomach but you had no desire to get rid of them. You embraced them, because they were proof of your love for the young man beside you.

Kaz now understood why so many great novels were centered around love. Dirtyhands was slowly coming to the conclusion that his recent special interest in you was not without reason. And yes, it was terrifying. Yes, it was perturbing. But if this feeling is love –and he was unfortunately sure that’s what this is– then he can’t imagine trying to get rid of it. Kaz Brekker can no longer picture a life where he does not love you, and this picture is becoming less and less frightening by the minute.

You’re washed with elation when you notice the barest ghost of a smile gracing Kaz’s carved features. How can a man not be happy in your presence?

Summer can be awful. It can be uncomfortable. It can be agonizing. But it can also be a gift. Or rather, in the Barrel, it can come bearing gifts. Like the gift of loving someone who’s been by your side for many summers prior, and hopefully will be for many summers more.

[crazerk]

Im thinking that when my mc gets shown to our husband along with the other new concubines he sees a thin rope around her ankle and asks why is she tied and the servants try carefully telling him I already tried to run away two times as I was a slave

Lol. This scene probably won’t appear in the books but it was fun to think about so I made a little drabble.

You stand in a line like a prized horse at auction, head bowed in proper deference as the shah makes his way down the row of girls, preening for his attention. You can feel the weight of his presence even before he reaches you, like the heaviness in the air before a storm. The silk rope around your ankle feels impossibly conspicuous, despite Orgion's attempts to arrange your skirts to hide it.

The soft whisper of expensive robes against marble grows closer. Then silence. You can see the edge of his shadow falling across the floor before your feet, can sense his stillness as he pauses.

"Why is this one bound?"

His voice is quieter than you'd expected, touched with something that might be curiosity or might be disapproval. You keep your eyes fixed on the floor, though every instinct screams at you to look up, to see the face of the man who now owns your fate.

You hear Orgion clear his throat delicately. "Ah, your majesty... there have been some... difficulties with compliance." The chief eunuch's usual unctuous tone has taken on a nervous edge. "Two attempts at... unauthorized departure, thus far."

"Two?" There is definitely curiosity now, and something else – a hint of amusement? "In less than a week?"

"The first was during her initial examination, your majesty. She... ah... managed to evade the guards and make it as far as the outer courtyard before she was intercepted."

"And the second?"

"Yesterday morning. She had somehow acquired a set of servant's robes and very nearly made it to the kitchens. If one of the cooks hadn't recognized her..."

You fight to keep your face neutral, though your cheeks burn at having your failures laid bare. You hadn't even made it to the actual palace gates. Some great escape artist you're turning out to be.

"Look at me."

The command is soft but unmistakable. You hesitate for a heartbeat, then slowly raise your head.

The shah is younger than you'd expected, though his eyes hold a weight that goes beyond his years. They're an unusual color – not quite brown, not quite gold, but something in between that seems to shift in the light filtering through the high windows. His face is all elegant angles, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw that speaks of his foreign blood. But it's his expression that catches you off guard – not anger or offense at your defiance, but something that looks almost like recognition.

"Interesting," he says softly, more to himself than to you. Then, to Orgion: "Remove the rope."

"Your majesty?" The chief eunuch's voice rises slightly in alarm. He gaze bounces from you to the shah. "I must advise against—"

"Remove it." There is steel beneath the quiet now. "We are not savages, to keep our women in bonds."

"As you wish, your majesty." Orgion gestures sharply to one of the attending servants, who hurries forward to untie the silk cord.

You feel the rope fall away from your ankle, but you don't dare move. He is still watching you with that strange, measuring look.

"Tell me," he says, "what would you have done if you'd made it to the gates?"

The question catches you by surprise. You should lie, you know – make up some story about missing your family, play the part of the frightened girl who just wants to go home. But something in those unusual eyes compels honesty.

"I would have run," you say simply. "As far and as fast as I could."

A spark of something that might be approval flickers across his face. "And now?"

"Now?" You meet his gaze squarely. "I suppose I'll have to find other ways to escape."

Orgion makes a strangled sound of outrage. "Your majesty, you see how intractable she is! Perhaps if we were to—"

"Enough." Kaz's voice cut through the eunuch's protests like a blade. He turns to face Orgion fully, and though his tone remains quiet, there is no mistaking the anger beneath it. "Let me be very clear. These women are not animals to be leashed and caged. They are members of my household, and they will be treated with the dignity their position demands." His eyes flick to the discarded rope. "If I ever see another concubine bound like a common criminal, you will answer to me personally. Do I make myself understood?"

Orgion's face has gone pale. He bows so low his forehead nearly touched the floor. "Yes, your majesty. Of course, your majesty. I only thought—"

"You thought wrong." Kaz's gaze sweeps the room, taking in the other officials and attendants. "The same goes for all of you. These women are under my protection. Remember that."

He studies you for a moment longer, then the corner of his mouth curves up slightly. "You might want to avoid the kitchens in the future. The head cook has an unusually good memory for faces."

You stare after him, unsure whether you've just made a terrible mistake or somehow passed a test you hadn't known you were taking. But as you watch him move on to inspect the other girls, you could have sworn you saw a flash in his eye, of barely concealed mirth.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[ellewritesalright]

The Lost Princess - Part 1

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Synopsis: The old Queen Mother of Kerch's former royal family is offering a hefty reward to whoever returns her rumored-to-be-alive granddaughter to her. Kaz being Kaz hears about the reward and hatches an elaborate plot involving a fake princess. Reader is a lowly amnesiac orphan and escaped indenture who flees to Ketterdam where she gets tangled in Kaz Brekker's plot.

A/N: Hello friends!! Here is part one of a series I started writing a few years back but never published. It's inspired by the movie and musical Anastasia. I hope you all enjoy, and I hope it makes enough sense haha

Warnings: sickness, mentions of death, mentions of drowning, mentions of violence. pls let me know if I've missed anything

Word Count: 2056

..........

It was happening again.

You sat upright in the bed of your cheap lodgings, swinging your legs to the side and touching the floor. The threadbare rug was itchy against your toes as you took deep breaths, a desperate attempt at grounding yourself. Still, the dizziness did not subside. It came along every so often, never without the cryptic nightmares. There was always vertigo and memories of plunging into dark waters.

At least, you thought they must be memories. There was a significant gap in your mind from birth to the age of about ten, and the first thing you could remember was waking up on a fishing boat on the True Sea. The fishers handed you over to their boss, a wealthy merchant named Devisser, once you made port, and you were made to work for him in a fifteen-year indenture. You had worked as a scullery maid in that man's second home on the southern shores, but you managed to escape your indenture five years early, running off to Ketterdam.

Nowadays you were free to do whatever you pleased--if it was within budget, of course. You had precious little in your life, and you couldn't squander your money in the gambling dens of the city. 

You had to be smart if you were to make it to Os Kervo. Another maid at the house had said that there was a better chance of smuggling yourself to Novyi Zem than to find a safe passage to Ravka, but you didn't let her sway you. You had to get to Os Kervo. It was difficult to explain, but you felt instinctively that someone was waiting there for you. In your dreams, the better and brighter ones where you could feel the warmth of arms around you, there was a voice that whispered, "I'll meet you there, my little tiger. We'll be together in Os Kervo."

The only trouble was how you could get there. You had no travel papers or identification, and it was difficult to obtain any--even fake ones--with such little money. It was a difficult position you were in. 

So you went about your life, picking up odd jobs using fake names. Your name is already fake as it was. The surname, Vos, was given to you by one of the more kind fishers who pulled you from the water. He gathered a mound of blankets around you and sat with his arm around you, trying desperately to keep you warm. Sometimes you wondered about him, wondered whether he was still fishing for Devisser. Perhaps if the captain of that ship had not seen fit to hand you over to their boss the kind fisher would have taken you in. Life might have been better if you had been offered a chance at a family instead of an apron and a crushing daily workload. 

Your feet carried you to the wardrobe in this shabby lodging room. You had to sweep a spider off your jacket before you slipped it on. The morning air was a nice reprieve against your warm face as you walked down the streets. Shops were opening, food vendors were starting the fire in their ovens; Ketterdam was waking up.

You meant to walk further than the Barrel, but you stopped as you saw the window of some sort of pawn shop. There was a dress in the window. It was the emerald green of a kind of fabric you had never owned but knew instinctively would be smooth to the touch, like a flat stone one might skip on the ocean. There was something so familiar about the short ruffles of the over-the-shoulder sleeves; perhaps you had seen a guest at the big house wearing something similar when you used to spy from the door to the servant's quarters. 

There was no way you would be able to purchase such a beautiful gown, you barely had enough money to get by as it was, but you were drawn into the shop because of it. You had to spend some more time around it and the other beautiful items in the shop. You hadn't been around such lavish things since… well, never.

The bell above the shop door jangled, alerting a woman at the counter to your appearance. She smiled, but the sight struck you in the chest. As an amnesiac orphan, you learned early on that people saw you as weak, helpless, and naive. For your youth and lack of guidance, you were perceived as easy pickings, and people tried their tricks on you more often than you could count, especially here in Ketterdam. You'd learned to tell what was genuine and what was fake when you interacted with others, and the woman's smile was the first real smile you'd seen in a long time. 

"A beautiful dress for a beautiful young lady," the woman said.

You shook your head with a pleasant enough smile. "I was just looking. I could never afford such a thing."

"And yet here you are in my shop." She followed your eyes to a case of assorted valuables. When she saw the dull music box you stared at she hummed. "Would you like to know a secret?" You turned to her "That music box is from the old palace. It belonged to the missing princess herself, I swear on Ghezen and the saints."

You pondered the validity of her words, keeping a level expression so as not to upset her with your doubt. Everything you heard about the dead royal family seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, and no amount of rumours about one of their daughters being alive somewhere would make it any less a ghost story. 

Still, you smiled politely. Despite her pleasant expression, she was only trying to sell you something, something you would not need even if you could have it. It wasn't even the most eye-catching thing in the display, just a decrepit old music box of tarnished silver. The music probably didn't even play anymore.

"It's lovely," you lied, "though I don't believe I could afford it."

"I could give you a special deal. I like to think there's something in my shop for everyone. The music box deserves to go home with you."

"That's generous, but--truly--I cannot make a purchase."

She tilted her head at you. "What is it you want, my dear? You've come into my shop, looked around, and you have the nerve to refuse my generosity--what is holding you back?"

"I've already told you," you said, "I couldn't afford it."

"And if I gave something for free?"

You brushed her off. "That's a terrible business model."

"Perhaps. But I like you, little runaway that you are. You're a long way from home--you deserve something nice."

You felt your pulse quicken. She shouldn't have known that. You weren't on the list of runaway indentures, so the stadwatch wouldn’t be looking for you. You breathed in before you could turn to her, balancing your composure with great care. Emotions were not useful in situations like this. "What brought you to that conclusion?"

"You keep your head down, which is normal in the Barrel, but you're not doing it out of habit, you're doing it out of fear. You must be hiding from something--from someone."

She was apt, you'd give her that. The trouble was figuring out the degree to which you could trust her. She could sell you back to Devisser in a second if she wanted to, but she could also be willing to help you. After all, she did say she liked you. You looked her in the eyes and then spoke.

"I'm trying to get to Ravka. The thing is, I don't have the money for travel papers, be they legal or illegal. I can't afford even that, and I could never afford anything in your shop." You straightened out, about to leave. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time--"

"Brekker can help you."

You stopped in your tracks. 

“He can get you to Ravka, no travel papers necessary.”

You faced her again, questioning, “Where can I find this Brekker?”

“He owns a club down the road from here. The sign has one of those annoying blackbirds on it.”

“A raven?”

“No, a pesky crow.” She fiddled with a set of keys around her neck. “Anyways, he can help you on your way. I assure you.”

“How much will this information cost me?”

“Nothing, my dear. I hope you make it to Ravka.”

You thanked her, ducking your head as you left the shop. You kept a wary eye about you as you wove through the streets, finding your way back to your lodgings. There was little trust in such a wicked city as Ketterdam, specifically here in the barrel, and you were constantly looking out for any sign of danger. The shopkeeper wasn’t dangerous, not from what you could tell, but you had to keep your wits. One false move and you could be sent back to Devisser. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

..........

Kaz stepped out from the back of the shop after the bell above the door rang out once more, signifying your departure. He was lucky to have been behind a particularly packed shelf furthest from the door, else you would have seen him and wouldn’t have explained your plan to Eugenia, the shopkeeper. Eugenia, for her part, did well to nudge you in the direction of the Crow Club. Undoubtedly she would want some credit for that, he knew. And, just as he thought, she brought it up as soon as he reappeared. 

"I've found your missing princess for you, Kaz," Eugenia smirked. "And how valuable she'll be for you."

"You didn't do anything for me, Eugenia. She'll be just as impossible as the others," he retorted.

He'd been auditioning young women to play the part of the missing princess for months now. Ever since he'd heard of a hefty reward posed by the old duchess and grandmother to the princess, he'd devised a plan, learning everything he could about the toppled royal family.

"I think she's the one. Do you know why?"

He kept his stare neutral, but the disapproval remained on his lips in permanence. Eugenia liked to speak as though she knew best, leading tourists and tramps into traps as she sold them tin under the guise that it was rare silver. Even wisdom offered by her would be false.

She continued. "She'll play the part--and she'll be damn good at it--because she's desperate. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not."

He tilted a brow at her. "What do you want?"

"Waive six months of my rent," she said. There was no way she thought that he would accept this deal. He didn't even have confirmation that you would find him or that you would be willing to go through with his masquerade. Eugenia was a fool.

"If she is a good fit for the princess, I will waive one month of your rent," he bargained.

"Hold on, she is going to make you a million Kruge--I deserve more than a month for that."

Kaz frowned at her, leaning into his cane. Who was she to make demands? "Firstly, there's no guarantee that she can do the job. Secondly, even if she is a good fit, I don't owe you anything. You decided to send her to me before you thought to broker a deal; I don't owe you a thing." 

She thumbed at her ring of keys. Eugenia was upset with herself and with him, he could tell. 

"If she can play the part," Kaz said, straightening out, "I am willing to waive three months of your rent on the condition that you supply me with whatever I might need from this shop free of cost."

"Whatever you need for the job, right? I can't just give you anything you want from now on."

He nodded. "Just for the job. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

Kaz left the shop without the rent that he'd initially come to collect, but with something much more valuable if he played his cards right. He'd only caught a glimpse of you, but he was inclined to believe what Eugenia said. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not, and you had sounded plenty desperate.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series please comment on this part or send me an ask. And if you want to request a fic, please feel free to send in an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Part 2

Tags: @justvibbinghere @happyhauntt

[jacaeryslover]

FEELINGS: a finnick odair one-shot.

after winning the games, you thought life would be different, and it was. but not how you imagined it would be, life didn't get easier, but it did get more bearable in its own twisted way.

"honey, no one ever wins the games, not really" kaz—your mentor— said to you once, while holding a cup of fine aged wine in his slim but calloused hands, "someone in the capitol will always find a way to make your life harder, get used to it" he coldly said, while lifting the maroon liquid up to his dry lips, soaking them and leaving an almost unnoticeable red tint to them in the process.

remembering was the hardest part—the atrocities you commited and watched, haunted your every breath—reliving them even in your dreams, dreams that turned into haunting nightmares. but you did missed something. not everything was bad, not everyone.

finnick odair, one of the mentors from district 4, the one who gave you advices when you most needed them, the one who held you while you were crying, and the boy who loved you more than anything.

but it wasn't always like that, finnick hated you at first—and you knew that, but the reason? only he knows—a loathing so big that even himself didn't know how to explain.

"look sweetheart, you won. congratulations, now if you excuse me" he said bitterly while stepping forward, wanting to leave. "why do you hate me so much? i didn't do anything to you" you answered, your tone giving away your hurt.

"exactly, and you still won. now go and smile for the citizens of the capitol who love you so much, you don't want them on their bad side"

you thought that maybe—as a mentor—he got close with one of the kids you had to kill in order to win the 67th hunger games, and that was the reason of his hatred. you weren't so sure, and you never asked.

long story short, you grew on him. you were always the one to start conversations with him almost every year, the both of you being mentors made it easy, you had something to talk about. and just like that, one day his loathing became friendship, and that friendship became something much stronger, more real. love.

he didn't know when, or how. but he was grateful that you didn't give up on trying to make him your friend, for he would've missed the way you touched him, the way you looked at him—with so much love, so much passion—that he thought he didn't deserved.

and he wished you knew how much you meant for him, he would do anything in his power to keep you safe, to keep you happy. that's why when the quarter quell came, he hoped your name wouldn't be called. he hoped you could stay in the comfort of your house in district 10, he didn't want you to live this hell for a second time. but he couldn't do anything to stop it if that happened.

and just as he feared, your name was called, and you knew you probably wouldn't survive this, but you were happy you could live your last minutes alongside the man you loved so much, he had better chances than you, so it wasn't hard for you when you decided you would give your life to see finnick as the victor from the quarter quell.

no one knew someone already decided that it was time for a change, a change of power.

[swanimagines]

BARELY DRIED | KAZ BREKKER [PART 2]

Part 1

A few days later, Kaz had gone missing again. After the Van Benschoten job, which had gone exceptionally well, he had retreated even more into his shell. Barely paying any attention to you during the afterparty of finding a buyer for the treasure you had stolen, gotten tens of thousands of kruge, and still Kaz acted like it didn’t really matter that much. As if that had been just another one of those smaller jobs which he could do by himself and maybe someone keeping watch at most. Definitely not something this big. But now, he had been gone for two days already. Gone before sunrise, no one had heard him, no one had seen him leave.

And now, you sat at the bar counter with a shot of whiskey, wringing your hands. Your heart was pounding, your fears increasing by the second.

“What if something has happened?” you muttered as soon as Jesper slid to sit next to you. “What if… what if he, what if he’s been so distraught that he has gotten caught? Or… killed?”

Jesper snorted, shaking his head. “Kaz? Caught? Killed? Come on, you know he’s tougher to kill than a cockroach infestation is.”

“But what if—”

Jesper shot you a look. “No, he’s just… he needs time to cool off. Seeing you could shake him up even worse now.”

You nodded slowly, staring at the bar counter. You knew Kaz wouldn’t be happy when he’d learn that you had spilled the whole story about that letter you found and Kaz being upset about you having read it to Jesper and Inej, but he had been away for so long, you were so worried. You needed to have someone to talk to, and they had succeeded in comforting you somewhat.

But it didn’t mean it made you any less worried. No matter how much they tried to console you and make you believe Kaz was coming back soon, you couldn’t help but go over and over all the possible horror scenarios.

Kaz being thrown into Reaper’s Barge, his body having floated away, reunited with his brother.

Kaz being imprisoned, tortured, terrified for the first time in years.

Kaz being trapped somewhere, slowly starving to death.

Kaz having left Ketterdam completely, being too overwhelmed about the fact that you had seen a vulnerable side of him, convinced he had ridiculed himself to you and that you don’t feel the same.

Your last fear wasn’t as harrowing as the rest of them, sure, but still… a gnawing fear that you wouldn’t see him ever again loomed over you like a dark cloud. You were unable to think anything else or do much to keep your mind off it.

And after two days more, you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need to go find him,” you announced to your friends as you came down the stairs of the Slat with your coat and boots on. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Jesper sighed. “You do know that if he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t be able to find him. He surely knows you’re going to look for him sooner or later, he knows to expect it.”

You paused, before adjusting your scarf. “That’s what I’m counting on really. He may expect me. Saints, he could even wait for me to find him.”

Jesper scoffed. “Are we talking about the same Kaz Brekker here?”

You shrugged, looking at the roof for a moment. “It might be wishful thinking, I know. But I just feel like he may not come home until I go there and tell him it’s okay, that he hasn’t ruined anything.” You paused. “And maybe I could tell him that we can forget about that letter completely if he wants that.”

Jesper raised an eyebrow, but then looked back at his glass of whiskey. “Well, I guess it’s your time you’re wasting.”

First, you headed to Black Veil, weaving through the gravestones until you reached the crypt. You knocked on the door — no answer, of course, and complete silence otherwise too. Nobody was moving inside. You peered inside the windows, but the crypt was empty unless Kaz was sitting on the floor in some dark corner where you wouldn’t see him, and that didn’t sound like Kaz. Cowering to hide from you, no, that wasn’t Kaz.

Next, you headed into the harbor. You checked every warehouse, every lookout, every little nook you could imagine Kaz being in, but found nothing. You groaned as you reached the end of yet another back alley, yet another dead end — and it certainly didn’t ease your fears of what had happened.

What if he wasn’t hiding?

What if he wasn’t hiding in Ketterdam?

Could he have left for Lij to relax a little?

What if he had left Kerch?

“Kaz,” you muttered under your breath, “where the hell are you?”

Then, it hit you.

The canals. Could he have gone there?

He did tell you once — or not tell you, it was more like a vague mention you had later figured out — that when he had to think, he went underground to think, to watch the canals, reflect on his old life. It was rare, and became rarer as he grew up, but sometimes he found some strange sense of solace from “speaking” with his brother. Maybe he was underground now too, asking advice from his brother.

It took a while to find the way, the old stairs that led to underground canals. But you still ended up finding them when you saw one of the canals splitting and disappearing below the bridge.

You walked through the maze of canals slowly, trying to ignore the rats that ran across your feet every once in a while. Could Kaz have really spent time here for four days?

But just as you started to doubt it and wondered if you should just turn back, you saw him. Sitting on an alcove, head tilted back, eyes closed. His hat on his lap.

“Kaz?” you mumbled, and he flinched. He clearly didn’t expect you to find him, nor he had heard you coming. He turned to look at you slowly, his dark eyes looking over you before he let out a breath through his nose.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, sounding like he hadn’t spoken in days.

You took a careful step closer. “You’ve been gone for days, everyone’s worried. I couldn’t sit still, I started to—”

“I needed to think,” he interrupted you.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have read the letter, it wasn’t my business. And please believe me when I say I will never again look at any of your things unless you’re asking me to.”

He was quiet for a moment, before he ran his hand through his hair. “It wasn’t about the letter.”

You frowned. “Then why?”

“Because I wasn’t able to face you. To talk about anything. I needed time, but I couldn’t have had it at the Slat because I would have seen you every time I stepped out of my room.”

You cocked your head slightly. “Kaz, I don’t understand.”

He clenched his jaw and grabbed his cane, holding it in front of him. He squeezed the crow head again, which you had noticed was his method to keep himself grounded.

Then, he spoke again. “I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head. “I’m broken, rotten, beyond repair. Not to mention, you’d be a sitting duck if… I can’t do that to you.”

So the letter was for you.

You sighed, taking a few more slow steps, sitting beside him. “Kaz, I’ve seen the worst of you. I’ve seen you doing things to people that make me want to throw up. I’ve heard the cries of mercy from people you have interrogated. I’m pretty sure I know you, and I know that if we were… together… I’d indeed be a target. But I know how to look after myself. And I doubt you want us to announce it in magazines, we could at least attempt to keep it a secret.”

He didn’t look you in the eye, but he did look in your direction. So you pressed further. “If you want, we could try. Take it slow. See how it goes, how it feels. We don’t have to rush into anything.”

Kaz was quiet for a long moment. Or at least that moment felt so incredibly long, your heart pounded in your head, you were sure he’d turn your offer down.

But then, he grunted and slowly stood up. “We need to get back to the Slat. My next plan should be put into motion within a few days.”

You knew that was his way of agreeing, and you couldn’t help but beam a little. “I will be ready.”

He hummed, and started making his way up the first flight of stairs, you following him.

Your little search trip ended far better than you imagined after all.

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

[ashessonfire]

Bonjour, lovely!! I adore your fics, your choice of words are just *✧delectable✧⁠* and I'm amazed at how you beautifully written Kaz. If you may, could you write a little fluff with the reader being a skilled painter/sculptor and she helps the crows in art forgery. (I personally love when there's a little angsty yearning in the mix but I trust you will blow it out of the waters). Mercii!!

Stolen hearts - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt : As a crow who specializes in art, what happens when Kaz stumbles upon one of your personal sketchbooks and gets a little jealous? - Pairing : Kaz Brekker x Reader - Warnings : Jealous Kaz, Kaz being an idiot, he gets a bit upset but nothing too crazy :)

A/N : Hi my loves, this is a pretty long one but I ADORED this idea, and so I let myself run with it.This may just be one of my favourite things I have ever written so I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing this!! As always requests are open, and please check my list here for other characters I write for!!

click here for masterlist

click here for characters I write for

(Also it seems as if we are getting closer to finding out if we are getting a SOC spin off!! After the writers strikes we should hopefully know, so lets try keep the Grishaverse fandom alive on here!! <3 )

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"You want me to recreate that in two days? Kaz, the original is painted in oils, they don't even dry in that time!" You exclaimed, peering over the top of a stolen painting at your boss, his gaze hard yet not harsh.

"I am aware," Kaz began, "But that's why I hired you, isn't it? You have not missed a deadline once, and I know you won't miss it now," his firm voice rung out into the acoustics of his office.

And of course, he was right.

Although you would have to take a few shortcuts, you could feel your fingertips twitching against the oak frame of the piece, mind already composing each element of the scene. Tucking it beneath your arm, you let out a gentle sigh, nodding swiftly in his direction before departing from the room.

He had saved you, and this painting was only a fragment in your repayment of Kaz Brekker.

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A fire had swept through your village just beyond the confines of the Barrel, leaving you with nothing but your pouch, filled to the brim with pencils, inks, and as many types of paper as you had been able to salvage. The corners of your paintings began to singe as your home was engulfed, pain piercing your heart as you sprinted down the path to evade the impenetrable walls of flame.

Ketterdam beckoned you into her grip, as you ventured through the dim alleyways until shadow gave way to dazzling light displays. The Lid revealed itself to you, and with no other choice you slotted yourself in with the penniless street merchants that lined the alleys of Ketterdam.

For years, you offered sketches, portraits, and paintings to the rich tourists that marveled at Ketterdam's wonders. Although mere pennies were offered in exchange for your work, it was enough to renew your supplies and evade sleeping by the canal, or being trampled by tourists.

As time crawled along your skills blossomed, transforming your rough ideas into magnificent pieces, worthy of far more than a few kruge. Soon, you began to slip into galleries, memorizing each stroke until your mind could guide your hands without a single thought. Portraits that were worth thousands were then being passed into clueless pigeon's hands for only a few hundred kruge, as your skills were unmatched in the art of forgery.

Little did you know that you were being kept under the watchful eye of Kaz Brekker's wraith, your talents being thoroughly observed and reported back to the leader of the crows.

You were able to swindle the pigeons for a few months until the Watchstadt began to take note of the remarkable artistry of your paintings. Overnight, the tides of your fortune changed, awaking one evening to the thudding of leather against stone, inching closer to you as each moment passed.

In a desperate attempt to escape your fate, you clutched your belongings and shot down a back alley, shadows offering you a blanket of protection from the moon's shimmering light. However it seemed as if your luck had reached its limit, as several guards barreled out in front of you, as your other exits were swiftly stolen from you.

Tears began to blur your vision, lightheadedness overtaking your senses, the guard's words became muffled and distant, as panic overtook your being. You were barely aware of a gentle voice calling you from your terror, a soft hand wiping away the beads of pain falling from your eyes.

In the hours that followed, you scarcely registered anything but your gratitude towards Inej, and ultimately to Kaz who had been increasing the hours that his wraith was sent to protect you. In a few swift meetings, Kaz Brekker had settled a deal with you, sheltering you from the darkness of the Barrel, whilst securing a valuable new member of the crows.

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"Thank the saints that that is over," Jesper all but shouted, falling backwards onto the sofa in the common room of the slat. Placing yourself on a worn armchair opposite, you felt somewhat peaceful as your painting had been so seamless that the entire mission was cut short by a few hours.

After jobs, each crow fell into their own routines to unwind the tension that undeniably interwove into each of them. Kaz's cane thumped lightly against the creaking oak of the staircase, ascending to his room to continue plotting. Hushed whispers often omitted from Wylan and Jesper as they basked in each other's company.

Inej was usually missing, as she was now, exploring the endless expanses of rooftops whilst allowing the bitter air to cool her down. Taking in the couple across from you, and a now slumbering Nina beside you, you reached for the familiar leather binding of your sketchbook.

The glowing embers of the low-lit fire cast soft shadows on your friends, and the light washes of orange and red watercolour aided in your attempt to capture the peaceful scene unfolding before you. However, the absence of a certain presence pulled you from your portrait, thoughts straying to the man who undoubtedly was scheming once more in his office.

Since joining his crew, a small fondness for the "demjin" had harbored itself deep within your heart, impenetrable and unmoving. He treated you with a cold kindness, gifting you small tins of expensive paints, or the latest papers, completely dismissing the fact they were irrelevant to your job.

With a short shake of your head, the thoughts dispelled, returning your mind to the clarity it needed to produce your sketch, the flames from the fireplace dimming as the room began to fall into shadow. The peace that art instilled you with returned, as your heartbeat slowed and a sense of calm washed over you with each brushstroke.

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Settling into his chair, Kaz let out a short breath, tension easing slightly from his body as relief gripped him, all thanks to you. Your painting had exceeded his expectations, not a single person suspecting the image to have been forged, and the original stolen into the possession of the Dregs.

Few things could entrance Kaz Brekker, yet something about the way your colours melted into each other, or the clear emotion engrained into every miniscule detail of a painting pulled him in. Perhaps the depth of your sculptures, or the smooth yet carefully crafted edges of the clay coming to life in his imagination were to blame for his admiration for you.

Kaz's mind wandered as he thoughtlessly ridded his desk of it's papers, hastily stacking them into neat piles as he tried to shake his thoughts of you.

Suddenly, Kaz was startled from his inner battle, gloved fingers brushing against a foreign texture, a hard leather cover of, something? Curiosity urged him to retrieve the book from underneath the blueprints and paperwork, eyes scanning over the front in search of a clue as to what the binding held.

Carefully undoing a well tied string, the front page fell flat against his weathered desk, the candle beside him offering a gentle illumination. Kaz's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the contents of the book, the etches of the pencil being too precise to belong to any person, but you.

The charcoal marks formed on the fraying page to portray Jesper, content as he sat on a patterned bar stool in the Crow Club, eyes slightly creased in content. Thumbing to the next page, Kaz discovered another depiction of his sharpshooter, however this time he was polishing his guns. Unlike the previous image, Jesper was now depicted in a light wash of colour, bringing him seemingly to life.

Enchanted by your work, Kaz continued to marvel at each sketch and painting, however a sharp feeling grabbed at his chest as he came to a realization. Apart from a few pages here and there, the subject that lined the parchment was always Jesper. Turning the pages increasingly quicker, a feeling of dread seeped into his stomach, a twisting combination of jealousy and annoyance building within him.

A gentle knock broke him from these thoughts, as your voice called out in the hope you would be permitted entry. Carefully, Kaz slid your sketchbook to the opposite end of his desk, pretending to analyze a discarded stack of papers before allowing you in.

"Hey Kaz, I was just coming to check in on you, I didn't get to catch up with you after..." you began, speech diminishing as your eyes fell upon the bronzed edges of one of your sketchbooks. Your eyes lit up as you began to grin.

"You left it on my desk," Kaz stated, trying desperately to burry the knot in his stomach, as your expression brightened at the thought of finding the book full of Jesper. "I've been looking everywhere for this one, thank you Kaz," you respond, hastily reclaiming the book, folding it snuggly between your arms and your chest.

"It shouldn't be here," Kaz snapped, a sharp tone piercing the previously warm atmosphere, "It's your personal sketchbook, so it needs to stay personal. Understand?" Kaz bit out, stunning you into silence as you backed away towards the door.

"Oh," you began, "I didn't mean to leave it here," voice cracking as you battled through the shock of his manner, and the hurt of him snapping at you. "Make sure I don't see it again, although I'm sure Jesper would love to," Kaz concluded, practically spitting out your friend's name.

The dismay you felt began to ebb away as you took in your boss' expression more closely, your upset being replaced with something resembling humour. "Kaz," your voice quietly began, "You're not jealous, are you?" you question.

Although the room remained silent, his features spoke a thousand words to you, his eyes widening fractionally to reveal fright, face becoming tinged by a rosy blush. Before you could utter another word, Kaz had guided you to the arched doorway, pushed you through the threshold, and slammed the door before you could witness the tips of his ears turning crimson.

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Through the warped glass pane of his window, Kaz was stirred by the early rays of sunrise, face gently caressed by each stream of light that infiltrated the darkness. Despite the restless sleep he gained, the bastard was surprised he had managed to fall unconscious at all.

From the moment he had shut the door on you, feelings of jealousy and shame had consumed him. He swore he had heard a splinter echo throughout his chest as he recalled the hurt spreading across your face the previous evening.

Letting out a short breath of frustration, he slowly contorted his stiff limbs into a sitting position, and only then did his gaze cast onto the unfamiliar shade of leather perching on his nightstand. Unease began to spread through his body, fingertips sparking with anticipation as he reached over to retrieve the sketchbook.

Frustration began to wrestle with the discontent, as he unwound the ribbon binding the wrinkled pages together, yet the colour of the leather seemed to shift underneath his gaze. Unlike the book he had previously discovered, this one was made of a darker material which he could only liken to the darkness of midnight. As he angled the cover, flecks of gold appeared, the early sun dancing light off of each one, illuminating the leather as if it were a sky full of stars

Nimbly undoing the ribbon on the side, the first page fell open, and to his surprise, a neatly penned note fell out of the cover, revealing an image behind it that Kaz was sure he would have permanently engraved in his memory. A pair of sharp eyes met his own, and his breath caught in his throat as he questioned whether he was glimpsing into some sort of mirror.

With a desperation he himself could not even comprehend, Kaz began to flip through the pages, the guilt he had initially felt now burning him from the inside out, singeing at his chest. Each portrait captured his every emotion, each stroke precise and beautiful in a way he had never experienced before.

Gently unfolding the corners of the note, Kaz's gaze deepened with each curling letter of your short message -

Dear Mr Brekker,

After your discovery yesterday, I thought it only fair to also show you your notebook too. I have one for each of the crows, yourself included, and so I kindly ask you not to panic further about Jesper being the only muse of my pieces.

Love, your favourite artist

P.S ~ You also have a second book, if you are interested.

Kaz's breath hitched at the word 'love' before his mind could even comprehend it, head spiraling with thoughts of you as he pictured your gentle teasing laughter as you penned the note to him. The guilt and shame became so consuming in that second that his chest constricted, and he knew the only way he could alleviate the weight was by visiting you.

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A sharp knock pierced through the silence of your room, pen stopping mid point as you called a gentle welcome to the man behind the door. Kaz's figure slowly filled the doorframe, waistcoat slightly untucked, and hair somewhat out of place as if he had raced to see you.

A teasing grin began to illuminate your features, and the sunrise seeping through your window was more than bright enough to display Kaz's rose dusted cheeks as he averted his gaze. Without so much as a sound passing through his pursed lips, a gloved hand directed itself towards you, clutching onto the dark sketchbook.

You smile faltered, the glimmer seeping from your eyes as your lips fought to stay curved, as you questioned, "You didn't like it?" Kaz shifted his dark gaze to meet your own, brows lightly furrowing as he grumbled "I thought you might want it back."

Your gaze softened as the walls you had been beginning to construct around your heart crumbled, "Oh, I meant it more like a gift Kaz, plus I have several more books dedicated to you anyway," you uttered tenderly. The figure before you lowered his head towards the object in his hands, knuckles whitening beneath his leather gloves as his grip hardened.

After a fleeting moment of your boss' gaze sweeping over your features, he gave a swift nod in gratitude, the scent of ink and secrets trailing behind him as he ventured back to his office. Disappointment clung to your chest at his swift departure, hoping that he would have remained in your presence for a few moments more.

However, as your gaze travelled upwards to glimpse at his departing figure, you noticed how he had faltered in your doorway. His broad shoulders were facing you, allowing you to to observe every deep yet ragged breath that lifted his chest.

"I..." He began, voice so low that it was barely audible, "I'm sorry for last night, I shouldn't have said those things to you," Kaz almost spat out, the words tasting foreign on his lips as he attempted to quickly escape to the confines of his office.

"Kaz," you called out, hope unravelling the knots of anxiety from previously, leaving you with streams of a newfound confidence, "I just thought you should know you are my favourite subject. No one else in Ketterdam seems to have a better facial structure than yours."

Kaz could hear the thick inflections of your smirk within your words, ribbons of humour intertwining with each letter you spoke. Despite your teasing being met with a remarkably loud silence, your words had planted themselves deep inside Kaz's heart.

Racing back towards his office, the beat of his cane against the oak panels of the slat hastened by the second.

Yet not even they could match the pace at which Kaz's heart was beating, as his mind replayed your words over and over in his head until the way the word "favourite" was all he could hear.

Thinking back to your short note, Kaz's lips formed a ghost of a smile, since not only were you his favourite, but he was yours.

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Kaz Brekker tag list : @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @swhisperer @sleepynightchild @atlasiiae @kaiinohh @sannunah28 @at-the-chateau @withbeautyandragendrage @animalistic00 @whos6claire @any-corrie @daisydark @shara-ne @xxinvisiblexx @ldhpeter @viperinferno @kozbtchx @wishyouwere-sober (please comment if you would like to be added to the Kaz Brekker taglist)

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