#it’s heist time gang

[localgirlbecomesobsessed]

The things you do for a date

Leo x Xena (established)

Part one

They deserve to be at the club, what she has to do to get them there, she doesn’t deserve.

Aka Hyde tasks her with something dangerous.

Chronic migraine Leo truther

Leo flopped onto the bed, arm covering his eyes as he dramatically groaned. Xena flopped next to him as he made grabby hands at her as she sighed rolling herself until she could reach him, she pulled herself up onto his chest and laid her head where his heart would be, smiling as the speedy thrumming echoed into her ears.

“I want to go ouuuuut.”

He whined at her, a golden eye peeking out as he lightly lifted his arm, they were both in uniform, both too exhausted to move and both…extremely bored of being enclosed in Darkwick.

They were meant to be in class, yet neither of them could handle going today, not that Leo went much anyway.

“Where would you go?”

Xena quietly asked fiddling with his necklace as Leo let out a strangled noise. The lights were dim, the black out curtains tightly shut together as the two relaxed together, a much needed break after weeks of strange annoyances.

“I’d go to the clubbb~”

Xena quietly huffed out a laugh as she sat up, Leo frowned at the loss of warmth but didn’t say anything about it. She grabbed a pillow, one of Leo’s pain meds and a bottle of water from the mini fridge next to the bed.

“You’re banned from a majority of clubs in Shibuya right?”

She tapped his arm as he removed it from his face, a sluggish moment revealing just how badly the migraine he’d been playing off as minor had cursed him. Despite the pain he still had a small smirk on his face as he gratefully took the meds and water, pride etched on his face at Xena’s statement.

“Yeah…if I’m lucky I’ll get banned from all of them.”

Xena snorted as she flopped back down, Leo joining her after he took his medicine.

“What about Vlad’s?”

She questioned, a small smile on her face as she remembered her favourite club, the only one she actually liked when she went out.

“What the fuck is Vlad’s?”

He was already searching it into TikTok, scoffing as the cliched vampire themed club dominated his feed.

“Really?”

He rolled his eyes showing Xena who just grinned.

“I take it you haven’t been banned from there yet…?”

He frowned as he rolled into her, dragging her closer to him as she just sighed at his dramatics.

“Yet…?”

They haven’t had any of their R&R permits approved in weeks, now with Samhain prep it seems it’s gonna be even harder to get around it. This short break (hiding) was only due to them promising to attend class today, it was only due to Alan’s insistence that they promised anyway…

“Hmmm you never know Darkwick might approve one of your requests…”

She yawned as she wiggled her way to the top of the bed, worming her way into the covers as Leo followed suit, neither have had much sleep the past couple of days, far too busy with missions or work to even have time for a small nap. Their planned date time now becoming a nap time as Leo wrapped his arms around Xena, pulling her close as they spooned, Xena hummed happily as she sneakily stole one of his hands clasping them together as she pulled it towards placing a sweet kiss to his knuckles as she sleepily devised a plan to get them that night of the club, thoughts interrupted as she could already sense Leo was crashing out behind her as he hid his face into the crook of her shoulder.

“Night mon Cher.”

———————————————————

Xena watched the fireplace roar as she blatantly ignored the annoying smiling man in front of her as she sipped at her tea in deep thought.

“It sounds dangerous.”

She finally said, interrupting the quiet that enveloped them as Hyde hummed in feigned thought at her statement.

“That’s because it is Xena!”

He clapped his hands happily as the floating hands brought over the paperwork for Xena for read over.

It was a simple acquisition job of an anomaly tool…it didn’t state what the use of the item was but it would’ve been pretty easy if it was just that…what doesn’t seem easy is the fact it’s in a massive mansion-on the night of a party-of some rich family who have a shady history…

“It won’t be just you either Xena! Romeo will be on this job with you too!”

Romeo…?

Of course that’s who he’s been in dealings with…

“Fine.”•_•

She sighed as she slammed her cup onto the coffee table, taking the files with her as she stormed out to meet with Romeo.

“Thanks XeXe~ I’ll approve the R&R for you once everything’s done!”

———————————————————

“Pay attention DD, we’ll only have 30 minutes to secure the goods, Now my EITS have alerted me they’ll be having a hypnotist performing at the party…”

Xena hummed in thought surveying the interior and exterior photos as she tried to figure out the best route to their prize.

It was located in a vault in the basement, it’s not heavily guarded in that specific area but the whole mansion itself was overloaded with guards. They’ve doubled the amount of guards for the party centralising around the mansions ballroom…the lowest of the aristocracy will be there, all with their honeyed hands in shady businesses.

“So…the best way to do this would be going in undercover, there’s three exits and I think our best shot would be the back garden, they have a hedge maze that-if we do get caught we could lose them in there…if we get a better layout of if?”

She handed the photos over to Romeo, who seemed almost pleasantly surprised at her competence.

“Yes, good choice CDD, I was thinking we could use the hypnotist as a distraction or a way to get them under control if I took over…it’d be easy.”

She snorted and raised an eyebrow, holding up the picture of the extravagant looking hypnotist, comparing it with Romeo who was deeply scowling at her as he snatched the sheet away.

“You’ll get wrinkles RoeRoe.” •_•

He slammed the picture onto the desk, looking at Xena in deep disdain.

“DRM! Urgh, obviously you can’t do it, you have the charisma of a straw hat.”

•_•

“I ooze charisma.” •_•

She kept a straight face as Romeo looked her incredulously, seeming personally offended by her declaration.

“YOU HAVE 0 CHARISMA ZILCH; RITSU HAS MORE CHARISMA THAN YOU, YOU POS.”

He pointed at her enraged as a small smirk spread across her face, she shrugged as she leaned against the table, only letting herself be slightly offended by his statement.

“I’m more charismatic than you though.”

The screech he emitted was worth it, he slammed the plans on the table next to her as she looked up at him in amusement.

“Urgh-Meet me at Mickey’s tonight, we have a week to plan…”

She rolled her eyes, agreeing as she caught one of his henchmen watching the two of them very closely, she narrowed her eyes at him and subtlety sent a text to Romeo about them.

“Right, well I’ll see you there…” •_•

She pushed passed him as a call from the chancellor came through.

What did Cornelius want?

———————————————————

The chaos of the inter squad did nothing to push back their plans as her and Romeo had to scramble to ensure everything goes according to their meticulous plan, meeting at Rui’s bar everynight much to Leo’s displeasure when he got told he couldn’t come join them.

She wanted it to be a surprise.

He’d been trying so hard to get an R&R request, so she wanted to surprise him and maybe go to Vlad’s…

She also fears he’d be livid with her for making a deal with Hyde; something he and Sho have warned her against repeatedly despite both making deals with him all the time.

She sighed as she made her way into the bar, slumping on a plushy velvet red chair at the back as she awaited for Romeo, who was chatting up Haru and Rui who both enthusiastically waved at her as she set up the map. She looked out the window, narrowing her eyes at the two idiots who were striding into the bar, Leo winking at her as they made eye contact.

“Well well well, is this where you’ve been hiding XeXe!”

He slid into her chair, lifting her up and placing Xena in his lap as Sho obediently went to the bar to get them drinks.

“Leo.” •_•

She’d missed him quite a bit, the two not being able to see eachother since she’d been on her missions, it’d nearly been a week and even before that they couldn’t see eachother much.

She sighed, turning to look at him as she shifted around to make it easier to wrap her arms around him. Taking a deep breath as Leo’s cologne washed over her, causing a small smile to grace her lips, something that got wiped off as Romeo approached them with disappointment etched on his features, a look directed solely at her.

“RoeRoe~ hogging Xena all to yourself? I’m hurt.”

Leo leaned back as he pouted at Romeo, who just rolled his eyes as he slid into his chair, crossing his legs as he leaned on the table watching the two of them with a careful look on his face.

“I see you’re easily pliable to his charms BB, is this really worth the WOE?”

Leo raised an eyebrow as Romeo looked at her unimpressed, Xena pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before sighing as she unwrapped her arms from him and properly faced the table, she stayed on his lap…she had no where else to sit after all as Leo stole her seat and Romeo insisted on always being in the back corner table and in the royal blue armchair that he claims highlights his good looks (it does but Xena refuses to admit it.)Sho came back with the drinks, noticing the odd energy at the table as he tried to swiftly walk back to the bar but Leo’s glare aimed at him made him sit down after he awkwardly dragged a chair over.

“Please im not the one blushing when Haru or Taiga talks to them, got a thing for red heads fico?” •_•

She gratefully took one of the drinks from Sho as she laid out the map more on the table, ignoring Romeo’s piercing gaze as he looked almost ready to kill her, Leo cackling from behind her as he wrapped her arms around her propping his head on her shoulder, looking curiously at the map of the mansion.

“Hmph…Kurosawa could be useful but for the BB endeavours its best you stay out of it, though…”

Romeo raised an eyebrow in deep thought as he evaluated Leo and Sho, he sipped at his wine as Xena rolled her eyes at his dramatics. She had told him how she wanted to surprise Leo and the strangely romantic Romeo had been stubborn in ensuring her pursuit and goal were met through merit and skill(and stealing a bunch more stuff from the mansion.)

Leo only frowned as Romeo trailed off, Xena’s endeavours? How would this even help with her curse…that’s besides the point, she’s spent more time with Romeo than she has Leo the past couple of weeks, not only that but she even went to the stupid cemetery that he’d been planning to take her out too (if they ever got an R&R request.) Not that she knew he was planning this, it was a surprise after all and it would’ve made a great TikTok series.

He wasn’t one to admit jealousy but the murmurs from students and the photos of Romeo and Xena together were all over the schools gossip channels fanned the flames within him as he stubbornly tried to figure out what could be so important that she had to leave his side, he gets for school missions but this was different and she didn’t come to him for help…

He clutched at her tighter, he had been listening in as much as he could despite Samhain prep, but all he got was that they were stealing from some old geezer?

“Leo.”

Xena poked his cheek as he snapped out of his thoughts, Romeo looked at him questioningly as he awaited his response.

“He asked if you could blackmail someone for him…they’re connected to our mission, the hypnotist…”

She whispered into his ear as Leo side glanced at her, shivering as her low toned voice sang into his ear.

“We can do that RoeRoe~ but after this mission, leave XeXe to me for a while before having her work again~she is mine after all!”

Xena looked at him wide eyed, a fond smile tugging at her lips as a light laugh slipped its way out as leo beamed at a grossed out Romeo.

She was his?

She sighed dreamily as she leaned back into his hold, she guessed she was his after all, she’ll spoil him as much as humanly possible after she gets this mission out of the way.

She just needs to get this mission out of the way….

She sighed with more exhaustion as Sho and Leo wandered off or more like Sho pulled Leo away as Romeo demanded privacy as they planned their backup route, they had Leo and Sho planning their blackmail to get the hypnotist to step down more easily.

Their mission will be starting tomorrow, Xena was terribly excited to get it over with…

[eerna]

oh my god. there is never going to be an Ice Court heist or Crooked Kingdom. they are literally doing Crooked Kingdom right now in s2. I give up there is nothing to look forward to anymore my dreams are ruined my hopes are gone

[jemzstuff]

Thought about how Lupin the Third specials take place in whatever time it was when it was made and if I were to ever justify mentioning canon material but make them into present day. Very not thought out answer is timeline fkry

No I don't know how that would work but maybe the gang stole something that had time traveling powers and somehow the world just shifted. The gang are kinda freaked out but adapt kind of just fine but Zenigata is probably more freaked out than them and harder to adapt because haha old guy or smth

[oceanxveiined]

Honestly, even when I add a new verse for the oc(s) and work them into a still-expanding canon, I like to think their presence in the area/time of the narrative is best justified as essentially them running a B-plot in a sitcom to the main quests/protagonists' journeys. Or like. Half the shit Team Rocket gets up to in the movies-

[gimjarack]

Meanwhile, Trump got that Payday 2 Dallas syndrome.

*Gets grazed by a bullet that barely missed him*

AHHHGGG I NEED A MEDIC BAG!

biden has 1 hp right now. his shits beepin. his shits red and flashing. his shits like this

[spicysourchimken]

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

--

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

[heartfullofleeches]

Mime Darling as a stripper tho- Maybe the murder clown gang is planning a big heist at a popular club/casino and they decide to play it safe for once with eyes on the inside. Imagine the tricks they could get up to with their powers-

-

Murder Clown: Damn- You look good, Mimey. Still short tho-

[Mime Darling rolls their eyes - pushing the clown backwards into an invisible chair. They mount their teammate, throwing an leg over the clown's shoulder with a tilt of their head that reads "You were saying?~"]

Mime Darling: :)?

Murder Clown: ....I stand corrected

-

Customer: That a fucking mime? Sheesh, they'll let anyone on stage.

[Mime Darling winks at them, blowing a kiss]

Customer: Y'know...on second thought....

Murder Clown sitting behind them - kissstick stain on their cheek: That wasn't meant for you, buddy.

-

Murder Clown: Alright, Mimey - got your protection incase anything goes wrong tonight?

[Mime Darling nods their head - rolling up their skirt and showing off their bare thigh]

Murder Clown: I don't see anything

[Mime Darling rolls their eyes again - grabbing the clown's hand and resting it on their thigh where they feel the outline of a gun. The clown's blush shows through their many layers of makeup.]

Murder Clown: Whelp - I'm even more aroused than I was ten seconds ago. We still got like an hour before everyone else is ready. Wanna pass the time in that closet over there?

[theowritesstuff]

Everything

Kaz Brekker x gn!healer!reader

Requests: “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” & “You are everything. Everything.” Although I did change it to “You are everything to me. Everything.”

Warnings: bruises, knives, guns, stabbing, blood, murder (feral Kaz)

A/N: Yeah, this is pretty dark guys. If you’ve watched the show/read the books you’ll be fine, but the crows plotlines are usually dark. I actually really like this one though! Italics are Kaz’s thoughts.

Request a prompt with one of my characters!

Kaz Brekker was methodical. He planned everything he could down to the very minute. It was how he was able to become the leader of the Dregs, the Bastard of the Barrel. No one dared cross Kaz, in fear of losing their life.

His crew were nearly as untouchable as he was. Jesper, the sharpshooter. Inej, the wraith. Wylan, the demolitions expert. Nina, the heartrender. And Matthias, the druskelle. They, along with their leader, made up one of the most prominent gangs in Ketterdam.

Then there was you. You were the crow that Kaz kept tucked away from the rest of Ketterdam.

Nina had brought you to Kaz after finding you help a small child with a nasty scrape on his knee. She watched as you guided your hand over the scrape, and the cuts disappeared. She hadn’t seen another Corporalnik in Ketterdam before, and knew that having a healer would help immensely when it came to heists.

Kaz was reluctant to take you in, only agreeing once he’d seen you heal a black eye Jesper had been sporting for a few days. He gave you a room at the Slat, gave you a few kruge, and introduced you to the other crows.

They were all easy to get along with. Nina helped you ease into this new life, often times joining you for meals, or taking walks through the markets with you. You had an obvious initial distaste for Mathias, often times choosing to stay away from the druskelle, but seeing him with Nina quickly put you at ease. Inej was incredibly kind to you, and graciously thanked you whenever you healed her. Wylan and Jesper were easy to get along with, often times too absorbed in each other to be aware of other things going on around them.

Then there was Kaz. It was more difficult to have a working relationship with Kaz, anyone could tell you he usually kept to himself unless he was giving orders or collecting kruge. You tried not to take his indifference to you personally.

You do remember the day things changed between you and Kaz though. The group had all come back from a heist exhausted, some injured, some just tired, but you could see Kaz out of the corner of your eye walking to his room quicker than he usually does. You followed him upstairs, and softly knocked on the door.

“Come in.” He grunted.

You’d never been in Kaz’s room before, you don’t think anyone other than Kaz actually has. It’s dark, and honestly exactly what you’d expected. A bed in the corner, a desk against the wall cluttered with paper, and a wardrobe that he was currently riffing through.

“Is there a reason you’ve decided to grace me with your presence Y/n?” He asks, his tone sharp.

“How did you know it was me?” You shuffle forward, and close his door behind you.

“Everyone else knows not to bother me after a job.” He turned his head towards you slightly, allowing you to catch a glimpse of red on his cheek.

“You’re hurt.” You take a step towards him. He steps back from you instantaneously.

“I’m fine.” He turns back to his wardrobe.

“Saints, why must you be so stubborn?” You sigh. He doesn’t answer you. “I thought you hired me to heal you, so let me do my job.”

It’s his turn to sigh this time. It would be nice to stop the stinging sensation on his face. He glances at you, then gestures you towards him. “Fine.” He sits down in the chair at his desk, and watches you slowly step towards him.

You slowly move towards him, aware of the way his shoulder tense with every step you take. You don’t know exactly what’s happened to him, but you can easily tell he’s got some sort of touch aversion after watching him for a while. The black gloves that never come off his hands are used as another layer to keep others away.

Once you’re standing in front of him you take a look at the thin cut across his cheek. “I didn’t know the bastard of the barrel could bleed.” You murmur.

You don’t fail to miss the slight upward quirk of his lips at your comment. He holds his breath as your fingertips hover over him. He expected to feel the waters rise up in his chest, drowning him, instead he’s surprised to feel warmth from your hand. You’re careful not to actually touch him, pulling away once he’s been healed.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask, stepping away from him.

That was the moment you became more than just the Dregs’ healer. Whenever you went out anywhere Kaz would send Inej with you for protection. He knew how valuable a grisha was in Ketterdam, and he was not going to let someone else take you away. He called you into his office in the Crow Club or his room in the Slat more often. Sometimes he’d need you to heal a paper cut, other times he’d just want your company while he planned out heists. On nights where he came back banged up more than usual he’d bare more skin to you, allowing you to heal him and provide him the comfort a part of him so desperately needed.

He’d never let it be known he was growing some kind of attachment to you. You were a weakness to him, and Kaz Brekker didn’t have any weaknesses.

It didn’t take long for the other crows to figure out something was different between the two of you. Kaz was a cold, corrupt gang leader, but they could see a shift in him when you were near.

He’d give you his coat if you felt cold on the walk from the club back to the Slat. He kept your favorite drink in stock at the Crow Club. He’d look to you for your opinion on plans for heists. He whispered comments to you while he thought the others weren’t paying attention, a smug grin growing on his face as you laughed at what he’d said. Soft isn’t the right word for what Kaz had become when you were near. He was gentle with you.

Jesper caught you sneaking out of Kaz’s room early one morning still in the clothes you’d worn the previous day. He smirked at Kaz as he ate his breakfast for the day.

“Have a pleasant night boss?” He asked over his cup of coffee.

Kaz raises a brow at him, silently asking what he meant.

Jesper simply looks over at you, who is currently in conversation with Nina and Mathias on the other side of the room. His eyes travel back to Kaz, gleaming with mischief.

Kaz looks like he’s about to hit Jesper over the head with the crow’s head of his cane. He gets a stern talking to in Kaz’s office later that day, and is informed that if anyone finds out about his meetings with you, his precious revolvers might end up on someone’s table in the market.

No one mentions any changes they’ve seen in Kaz after that. Everything goes smoothly from then on, until one particular heist.

It was a lot like any other heist, sneak into a place, steal something that costs an exorbitant amount of money, then sell it for twice the price. The problem was Kaz needed someone to sneak into a crowded party, and at that point most of the barrel could pick out any of the crows in a crowd. They needed someone that could be inconspicuous.

It was the perfect job for you. You’d always wanted to go on the crazy adventures your friend went on so often, and this was finally something you could swing.

When you volunteered to step in, Kaz immediately refused. There was a reason he kept you locked away in the Slat during jobs.

No amount of kruge is worth putting your life on the line.

He gives excuse after excuse as to why you can’t be used. You haven’t done this before. You don’t know your way around the building. They need their healer ready to treat them afterwards.

I can’t bear the thought of losing you.

“You don’t even know how to use a weapon.” Kaz sighed, barely looking up at you from the blueprints on his desk.

“Inej can teach me, right?” You turn to the wraith with pleading eyes.

Inej stutters as she looks between you, and the icy stare coming from Kaz.

“Besides, you said that you wanted me to learn how to fight.”

No, I said you should learn to use a weapon. I figured Jesper would let you shoot a few bottles behind the Slat.

“We need them boss. Y/n is our best bet.” Jesper shrugs as he becomes the receiving end of Kaz’s glare.

Kaz looks back down at his blueprints. He knows it’s going to be a busy event, and the others will be spotted on sight. He briefly wonders if he can hire someone else to do the job, but then he looks back up at you. He trusts you, more than he’s trusted anyone in a long time. He knows this is something you’re perfectly capable of, but is it something he’s willing to risk?

“Fine.” He grunts. “But Jesper and Inej will teach you to use their weapons first.”

Your hearts swells up with pride. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thrown yourself over his desk to hug him. “Thank you Kaz. I promise you won’t regret this.”

If only you knew how wrong you had been.

You did train with Inej and Jesper prior to the heist. You even practiced fighting with Mathias a little bit, who was significantly holding back his punches in fear of actually hurting you.

Kaz had made sure to drill his instructions into everyone’s heads, until they could repeat their schedules without thinking about it. Everything had gone to according to plan on the night of, until things took a drastic turn.

He kept an eye on you for as long as he could, until he was needed somewhere else, leaving you in the crowd of the large hall completely isolated from the rest of the group.

You were doing well on your own, slowly becoming more confident as you strolled around and made conversation. You managed to distract all of the merchants with conversation long enough for the crew to get what they needed. It was nearing the time Kaz told you to meet him outside when you were spotted by someone. You vaguely recognized the face, it was a man you’d seen in the Crow Club a few times.

He must’ve known about your affiliation with the crows, because next thing you know you’re being escorted the opposite direction you need to go. You try to stay calm, and remember what Jesper and Inej taught you about fighting, but you know with them holding onto your arms it’ll be near impossible to reach for the knife you have hidden away.

You end up in a courtyard behind the building when they start to question you. Simple things like “why are you here?” and “where are your friends?”. They quickly become aggravated with your innocent act, and become more incessant.

All it took was for one of the men holding you to loosen his grip for you to swing your arm away, and hit him on the side of his face with your elbow. Chaos ensued immediately. You were able to grab your knife, and used it as best you could against the three men fighting you. You had taken a few hits, but were able to stand your ground fairly well, until you felt a sharp pain in your side.

You froze, partially from shock, but mostly from the searing pain you felt. You looked down to see a dagger lodged in your side, being held onto by one of the men. He had a wicked grin on his face as he twisted the knife inside of you. You wailed out as he pulled the knife from your body, and watched as you collapsed to the ground.

“Brekker won’t be able to save you from that, little bird.” He snikered, then ran back inside with the others.

You could feel the blood pooling at your side. You tried to press a hand to the now sticky fabric of your shirt, and put pressure on the wound. You were far too hurt to be able to concentrate your powers to one spot. Your vision started to get spotty when you heard voices above you. A girl’s voice, clearly in distress, and a boy’s voice, sharp and stern.

More hands pressed to your side, then something was wrapped tightly around your waist.

You couldn’t hear what they were actually saying before you felt yourself being picked up, and held in someone’s arms. You looked up to see the figure that was holding you. A bigger build, wide shoulders, blonde hair? Mathias. Had you been conscious enough to speak you would’ve made a joke. Something about a druskelle carrying a grisha to safety. He’d laugh, but retort, telling you about how many times he’s had to save Nina.

You let yourself fall into the darkness after a while, your head lolling against Mathias’ chest. It’s okay, you thought, you knew you weren’t going to make it as soon as he pulled that knife out of you. You just wish you were able to see your friends one last time, to see Kaz one last time.

Kaz could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He tried to keep a calm composure, but anyone of the crows could see the anxiety building up in him. He was barking orders as soon as he saw you laying on the ground, a puddle of your own blood surrounding you. The waves start to build in his chest. He wants to reach out and touch you, to give you any semblance of comfort, because you’re not dead, there’s no way he’s letting you die. He’ll destroy all of Kerch before he lets that happen.

He notices when your head lolls. “Quickly.” He urges the group, speeding his own pace back to the Slat.

Once everyones regrouped they all gather in your room, where Mathias has lain you down on your bed.

Kaz tosses a pouch of coins to Jesper. “Go get some medicine. I don’t care how much it costs. Get the best you can find.”

Inej kneels down next to you, whispering prayers to her saints. Mathias leaves to gather supplies to help you. Nina keeps your heartbeat steady, her hands hovering above your chest.

The waters have reached his lungs now, pulling him down deeper into the ocean. Your blood coats the scarf Inej tied around you earlier, staining the blue material a dark, deep red.

“Saints! Kaz, your heartbeat is obscenely loud! Could you please go anywhere else?” Nina snaps at him.

Kaz doesn’t move for a moment, then quickly leaves your room to go to his own. He attempts to slow his breathing, to calm himself down, but anytime he closes his eyes he sees you again. You and Jordie.

It’s days before he talks to anyone. He only ever leaves his room to step into yours. Nina occupies a chair near your bed, dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Still alive.” Is all she says to him. He nods, then retreats back to his room.

He scours any and all information he has about the party, until he finds what might give him some relief. He leaves the Slat early one morning, and doesn’t return until late that evening. The gold crow’s head of his cane is now a bright crimson color. Blood is splattered on his neck, and one can assume his clothes as well, though the black hides it well from anyone giving him a second glance.

Jesper is surprised to see Kaz in such a state, knowing that he liked to keep up appearances.

“Hey boss, you’ve got a little…” he trails off, gesturing to his neck.

“It’s not mine.” He rushes passed Jesper, back to his room to start scrubbing the blood away.

You wake up about a week after the heist. Your throat is dry, and you feel incredibly hungry. Your limbs feel weak when move to sit up.

Nina sits next to you on a chair. She’s slouched over, soft snores falling from her lips. You softly nudge her, and let out a hoarse “Nina.”

She grumbles to herself as she wakes up. “Kaz, they’re fine.” She slowly opens her eyes to see you staring back at her, and she gasps. “Saints! You’re awake!”

You point to the cup that sits next to her, and gulp down the water when she hands it to you.

She stands up and looks towards the door to your room. “I’m going to go get Kaz.”

You grab her wrist before she can leave you. “Please don’t. I don’t think I can deal with incessant “I told you so”s right now.”

Nina scoffs. “Oh please, he’s been worried sick about you. I had to kick him out of here because his heartbeat was distracting me from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He even paid for some pretty pricey medicine for you. Speaking of which, here, take these.” She holds out a few pills. “Now, I’m going to go get Kaz, and maybe after this near-death experience you two will finally just tell each other that you love one another.”

“What? I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head.

“It’s okay, he’s not very good at hiding it either.” She smirks at you before she leaves.

She’s only gone a few minutes before your door swings open with Kaz in your doorway.

“You’re awake.” He says.

You shift so that you’re sitting up on your bed. Kaz closes your door behind him, then sits down in the chair Nina had been using, his eyes trained on the floor ahead.

“I’m sorry about the heist Kaz. But I promise I didn’t tell them anything-”

“I know.”

You furrow your brows. “You know?”

He looks up at you. When he does this, you realize just how close you are to him. You can see every detail in his face. The way his blue eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight of your room. You could brush your leg against his if you shifted. You start to move away from him, afraid of touching him, but stop when what sounds like a plea escapes him.

“Stay.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding, and relax beside him.

“Nina said you were worried about me.” You say softly.

He laughs a little, shaking his head. It’s a sight he’s reserved for just you. “Of course she did.”

“Were you?”

He looks into your eyes as if he’s searching for something. “I was.” He takes a breath, then turns his body so he’s facing you. “You scared me Y/n. I thought you had died, or were close to it. And I…” His admission is quiet. “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” He hangs his head in shame. The bastard of the barrel can’t admit how he feels.

“I understand.” You nod. “I feel so much love for you Kaz, you consume my every thought. You don’t need to say anything. I understand.”

He looks up at you, surprised. Surprised that someone as pure as you, someone who was literally made to heal, could ever love someone who’s caused so much pain as he has. He slowly removes his right glove, and drops the leather to the ground. He lifts his hand to your face, hovering near your cheek.

“You don’t have to.” You whisper, body frozen.

“I want to.” He takes a deep breath in an attempt to push the waves down, and slowly caresses your cheek. His throat tightens up, and for a moment it feels like he’s drowning again. But he focuses on your warmth, and his breathing slows down again. “You are everything to me. Everything.”

-

[frogchiro]

hhmmmmmggghh need pathetic horny arthur jerking off to thoughts of reader and cumming and cumming until he can’t cum anymore and then just laying there tossing and turning all night

half of it is from guilt over fantasizing about a young woman who he should know would never want an ugly violent bastard like him (or so he thinks 👀), the other half is just sheer desperation for someone to love him and keep him warm at night 💔

—🦌 anon

He may be pathetic and old and horny but that's how we like our men here </3

Poor Arthur won't be able to sleep at night, just tossing and turning, guilt ridden and his poor heart squeezing anytime he glances at the soiled cloths next to him. What is he even doing? Thinking about you, the newest addition to the Van der Linde Gang; a young, proper lady who wanted freedom, whose parents got killed and had nowhere to go and it was just your luck to run into them.

And here he was; Arthur Morgan, reduced to nothing but a simpering fool, getting horny like a boy because the buttons of your blouse were unbuttoned and showed your cleavage, an image that was burned into his mind and ultimately resulted in the mess next to him.

Just a few hours ago he was drowning in mind-numbing pleasure, jerking his fat cock to the thoughts of you here, with him, in his tent where you two would keep each other warm and safe; no risks, no heists, just two people so deep in love that nobody could even tell where one began and where the other ended.

Arthur kept imagining an idyllic life with you, one where you could leave the outlaw life, retire, have your own little piece of Heaven on a quiet farm somewhere far away. Where he could bend you over anywhere he wanted, take you by the hips and mount you silly until both of you were screaming from pleasure.

A life where he could be your big, strong, loving husband who is more than happy to protect you, care for you and provide for you...You and maybe even a sweet little babbling baby on your hip?

But then after he cums with a muffled groan, when his breath and raging hormones settle does he finally get the clarity in his head he needs and...Everything suddenly just seems so pointless.

He is so so guilty because he truly believes that he doesn't deserve you, of course he doesn't. You're still young, have your whole life ahead in front of you, your sweet smiles making even the darkest clouds over his mind go away. You always seem to just...gravitate towards each other, whenever either of you seems to feel under the weather you just kind of find each other. These are the times where Arthur doesn't feel old, sick or like a outlaw anymore, he just feels...good. Whenever you talk with him, joke with him, laugh until tears fall from your pretty eyes at his terrible jokes Arthur feels like he's the happiest man alive...It's a real shame that you probably don't feel the same...

...Or do you?

[thebisexualdogdad]

Smutober day 17: Lucy Chen x Male!reader - Undercover

You and Lucy had been sent on an undercover job where you were currently stuck in a private plane headed to Vegas surrounded by gang members you tricked into letting you aid in their casino heist.

Lucy needed a moment to breathe so she takes your hand and guides you towards the planes bathroom.

“Where are you two going?” One of the guys asks.

“We're gonna get lucky before we even hit the casino,” she smirks.

Inside the bathroom Lucy lets out a deep sigh and you can see the tension in her shoulders.

“You good?” You ask her, placing a hand on her cheek and rubbing your thumb across her skin to comfort her.

“Yeah, just nervous,” she confesses.

“Hey you got this,” you say, kissing her sweetly, “and if you need us to be pulled out Angela, Tim and Nyla can fake arrest us at the casino.”

“No, no I'm okay,” Lucy assures you.

“Alright then,” you smile at her but as you go to open the door she stops you.

“Wait,” she says, “we're supposed to be hooking up in here.”

You raise an eyebrow at her, unsure if she's suggesting what you think she's suggesting and she grabs your neck and brings you in for a far more intense kiss.

She slips her hand in your pants groping your cock through your underwear.

“I can't believe we are actually doing this,” you chuckle.

“I need something to calm my nerves,” she grins at you.

You lift Lucy onto the sink as you make out, both of you shimmying out of the lower half of your clothes just enough that you can slip your now hard cock inside her.

She pounds her fist into the door and moans loudly making a show to keep your cover up to the guys outside which makes you laugh.

“I didn't know you were such the exhibitionist,” you tease as you find a steady rhythm that she likes.

“I'd rather be in here with you than out there with them making small talk until we land,” she replies, throwing her head back against the mirror.

You kiss at her neck and palm her chest through her shirt, Lucy still moaning loudly.

She reaches down and rubs firm circles over her clit, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist as she comes closer to her release.

With her legs spread wider you you can now fuck her from a new angle which makes her eyes roll back.

“Right there, right there,” she moans and she cums hard.

You let her ride out her high before pulling out of her when you feel your own orgasm nearing.

As much as you wanted to cum in or on her now was not the time or place so you step to the side and shoot cum into the sink.

“Damn that was hot,” she says as you start to clean up and make yourselves decent again.

“You feeling better?” You ask, noticing how much more relaxed she seemed.

“Much better,” she smiles.

“Good cause I think I just heard the pilot announce we’re about to land over the speaker,” you say.

“Let's go arrest some bad guys,” she says confidently, kissing you one more time.

[blackcatwriter]

Linger (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

a/n: This is my first actual one shot so I'm super excited to get this out there in our tumblr community! Shout out to my beta reader and editor who prefers to stay anonymous, this post wouldn't exist if it weren't for you.

warnings: angst, slight use of curse words (if you count them), maybe just a tad bit of grammar mistakes, takes place during chap 4 but im taking creative liberties lol, no use of Y/N, use of nicknames

wc: 2.3k (lots of yapping on my end)

summary: After the events of Blackwater, Arthur abandons you. Almost a year passes and you spot him amongst the crowd at the mayor's garden party in St. Denis.

Thanks for reading!

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Almost a year ago, Arthur Morgan had left you behind in the wake of a heist gone wrong in Blackwater. He had promised to meet with you after the robbery, whispering sweet nothings of the life he wished to share with you within hotel room walls.  However, nothing had gone according to plan when Arthur left Blackwater on the run with the Van Der Linde gang to escape law enforcement. Broken hearted, you were left behind along with your hopes of a new life as collateral damage.  

Now, months later you had started a new life in St. Denis. Your father, who was in poor health and had claimed you were in need of a providing husband, had offered your hand in marriage to that of a wealthy businessman who had been visiting Blackwater from St. Denis.  

Too engulfed in your anguish of being abandoned by the seemingly love of your life, you didn’t fight the arranged marriage and left your home in Blackwater for a new life in the progressive bustling city of Saint Denis.  

You had buried Arthur in the back of your mind and instead devoted your time to new hobbies and skills, spending most of your days sitting in the comfort of your fiancé's two-story manor. Most chores were handled by the maids and servants, leaving you plenty of time to do nothing - which is why you so heavily valued the parties your wealthy neighbors held.  

Tonight, you were wandering around the mayor’s annual garden party while your fiancé stayed behind talking business with his fellow co-workers. It was mostly shallow gossiping between the ladies and meaningless conversations with any other guests. Tonight, you were wearing your newly tailored gown, a deep blue silk dress patterned with black lace trims that perfectly hugged your body to extenuate all the right things. Your hair was tucked into a loosely curled bun with stray strands that came undone from your waltzing around. 

You were on your second glass of champagne when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar face standing on the second-floor balcony accompanied by two other men: Arthur Morgan. 

He stood to the side of someone who you presumed to be a fellow member of the Van Der Linde gang he used to run with. Frozen with shock, your glass slipped from your hand and hit the ground with a resounding shatter. Startling the people around you, they moved away as you sheepishly mumbled a “sorry” to the poor servant that would be stuck cleaning your mess. When you looked back up to the balcony, Arthur was no longer there. The man who had been by his side stared down at you as if you had wronged him in another life.  

You fled the scene, preferring to retreat somewhere quieter in the manor to recover from your embarrassment. With your back to the door, you moved to sit by the windowsill of the room you were in. Quiet footsteps sounded against the door as you sighed. “I’m powdering my nose—" Your words failed you as you took in the sight before you. 

The outlaw who broke your heart stood by the door dressed in a suit you were sure he’d never wear again. Closing the door behind him, his eyes never once left yours. “Darlin’,” he grunted, taking in the breathtaking sight that was you. He had traveled across state lines, ran himself out of every saloon in every town he came upon, but he was sure he had never met another view that was as beautiful as you. 

“I...I’m not your darling.” You gripped onto the windowsill behind you with white knuckles. Arthur brushed the stray strands that had rebelled against the pomade Hosea made him apply earlier and looked to your feet—either too guilty or too nervous to meet your eyes any longer. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what to call ya’.” Arthur’s face reddened. He fidgeted with his hands and took a small step toward you. “I was just wonderin’ if you were alright. ‘Heard there was a little accident downstairs, and I was wonderin’ if it was you,” he continued. 

It felt as if the walls were closing in on you as he continued talking. When you first came to St. Denis, Arthur had come across your mind more often than you were willing to admit. You’d imagined he would come back to you and beg for you to take him back. You thought you had built a wall tall enough around your heart to not be affected by the sight of him again, but here he was stumbling over his own words, and you felt the same pang in your heart all over again. 

“Arthur, what’re you doing here?” You spoke softly after building the courage to ask. You wish you had the anger in you to slap him, tell him off, anything else than to just stand there bewildered by the sight of him.  “I wish I could say it’s for you, but I’m not,” Arthur sighed. He may have done all kinds of wrong in his life, but he wasn’t a liar—at least not to those closest to him.  

“I’m here with Dutch and a few other of the boys from our gang. We’re scoutin’ out an opportunity for a potential robbery.” He spoke with a tone of shame in his voice. The exact reason he left you in the first place was what lead him back to you. 

“Oh, Arthur. When will enough be enough?” You groaned, pinching your eyebrows together. “You're chasing after a dream that won’t happen! Can’t you see that?” Fueled by the frustration you felt simmering in your heart and the tears welling up in your eyes, you continued, “The old world is gone, Arthur. You’re beating a dead horse.”  

Arthur shook his head in defiance. “Now I know that, but—”  

“But what? The world is changing. If you can’t change with it, then you’re a dead man walking.” You interrupted him and rushed out the room, leaving behind a devastated Arthur. 

He tried following after you but stopped when he saw you talking to a man who he presumed to be your fiancé by the way you held onto his arm. The man nodded to you before you kissed his cheek and left to the front door. Arthur discretely tailed you until he watched you enter a carriage.  

He shouldn’t follow you. Dutch would disapprove of it; he’d tell Arthur to forget about you. You’re happier now, certainly happier than you would be on the run with him. He should go back to the party and collect information to help the gang, but in that moment, he decided you were more important. You had always been the most important person in his eyes and he was a damn fool to have not risked his neck to come back for you in Blackwater.  

Arthur ran out the front gates and whistled for his horse, Boadicea. He jumped on his horse and trailed your carriage from afar. He would’ve certainly been stopped by one of the many outstanding officers of St. Denis on account of suspicious behavior, but most of they were occupied by the party he just left. 

He stopped at the end of the street where your carriage came to a stop and observed you as you walked inside your home. You had clearly been upset in your carriage and Arthur carried a heavy guilt knowing he had been the bastard that left you feeling that way. Hitching his horse, he snuck down the sidewalk and into your backyard.  

You had changed out of your dress and into a plain nightgown. Dismissing your maids, you were left completely alone in your bedroom. Any other woman would be grateful for all that your fiancé provided, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were confined to a gilded cage. You sat at your vanity and dried your tears.  

Arthur Morgan had been your greatest weakness since the moment you met him in a saloon in Blackwater. He had been a drunken fool who managed to chase off every woman that night, except you. Where others found offense in his words you found humor. You took care of him that night and was shocked by him showing his appreciation to you the following morning.  

THUD 

THUD 

Shaken from your memories of the past, you yelped at the noise of pebbles hitting the windows of your bedroom. 

THUD 

Scanning your room, you looked around for anything you might use to defend yourself from this mysterious intruder and grabbed a vase. Lugging it out to your balcony, you looked over the railing and saw it was Arthur who was trying to get your attention. Sighing, you couldn’t help but prefer it was someone else trying to murder you.  

“You plan on attacking me with that?” Arthur joked to defuse the tension. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, but messy as if he had gone horseback riding. Groaning, you placed the vase down.  

“Did you follow me to my home, Arthur Morgan?” You whisper-shouted at him. If any of your servants saw a strange man trying to talk to you from your balcony, he’d be taken away. 

“I wasn’t done with what I had to say to ya’.” He stood firm with his chest out as he looked up to you. “Can I come up...please?” Arthur was scared you’d say no because he knew he’d have no choice but to respect your wishes. Any sane woman should tell him “no” but you weren’t just any woman. 

“You got an awful lot of nerve, Arthur,” you angrily spat. He took this as a sign you’d never let him anywhere near you again, until you continued, “If you can climb up the balcony without breaking your neck, we can talk.” You walked back into your room leaving Arthur grinning like a fool on the ground.  

He carefully climbed the side of your home, using the vines that grew on your walls as a rope to pull himself up. Hoisting himself over the railing, he removed his coattail and bowtie. “You always make your guests enter the hard way?” He shook the tiredness off his bones and followed after you. 

“Just the ones that aren’t welcome.” You retorted, sitting in a chair by your tea set. The evening bordered into nightfall as the air in the city grew colder. “There ain’t nothing left to say, Arthur. You’ve chosen how you want to live what’s left of your life and so I have.” Your face turned stoic as you poured yourself a cup of tea. 

“I haven’t forgotten what I promised you...and it ain’t gonna mean much to ya’ cause you’re a city girl now with everything you ever wanted, but...” Arthur trailed off as he tried finding the right words to tell you what was on his mind. 

You decided against butting in, even though you very much had things you wanted to tell him, like how he was so very wrong. St. Denis had nothing that you wanted. It was suffocating to be amongst such a high-class society. You missed the days where Arthur and you would run away for the night, choosing to retreat in nature as you confessed your vulnerabilities to him and he the same. Or when words weren’t enough to show your affections so you’d rent out a room at some hotel to show him how much you needed him in other ways. 

“I think we’re close to getting out of here. I know I said that back in Blackwater, but I really mean it this time. It’s selfish of me to want to take you from your new life here, but I’ve never been known for being a good man.” He kneeled down in front of where you sat and brought your knuckles to his lips. “What d’ya think of Tahiti?” He grinned. 

“I’d be a fool to believe your sweet words, Arthur.” You whispered, looking down at him with sadness. “You can be a good man, Arthur. Deep down inside I do think you have goodness, but you’re always fighting it. You’re always fighting it and you don’t let it win.” You placed a hand on his cheek and caressed his face. 

“Darlin’...” He buried his face in your lap as you raked your fingers through his hair. “You’re not gonna say yes, are you?” He turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. 

Your silence answered his question. He stood up and grabbed his discarded coat.  In truth, you wanted so badly to agree. You wanted to leave with him, but you didn’t trust him enough not to leave you all over again. This time you’d have something to lose. Here you have a fiancé with a legal and stable job. He provided for you. With Arthur, you’d likely spend the rest of your life sleeping on dirt and running from whatever authorities were chasing you. 

Arthur walked to the edge of your balcony with a stormy look in his eyes. “If you change your mind, we’re staying at an abandoned home in Lagras. It’s right outside the city, I’ll be waiting at the bridge at noon just in case.” Too scared to watch him disappear all over again, you kept your back to him as he climbed down your balcony and faded into the distance. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[swanimagines]

MASKS | KAZ BREKKER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" you asked, frowning.

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

Your heart stopped for a moment.

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

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

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

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

You stood there for a moment before Nina spoke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

[hihomeghere]

Little Things | Arthur Morgan / F!Reader

Word Count : 2k Warnings/tags : Slight somnophilia (reader wakes up), dubious consent, reader gave consent at an earlier time, unprotected piv, cursing, creampie, undressing Summary : Arthur returns from a successful job, and wants nothing more than to bury himself in you

Arthur couldn’t help but enjoy the little things in life. With the life he had, he didn’t have much to enjoy. Coyotes yipping across the plains, Violet snowdrop growing along the side of the trail. The serenity of an early morning sunrise, when the golden rays peak above the horizon, slowly catching everything aflame with its bright light.

On the other side of the coin, he was equally taken by the gentleness of the night sky. Stars speckled across the black expanse like they were left by a flicked paintbrush.

Riding home had also become one of his most treasured times. The anticipation of seeing you again, after being on a job for who knows how long. It didn’t matter if it was only a couple hours or a couple days. The thought of returning to you always sent a pleasurable tingle up his spine, and butterflies fluttering in his gut. Maybe it was because he knew how much you enjoyed the little things as well. How you’d greet him once he returned to whatever camp they currently resided in. Open armed and more likely than not, spread legs. To say it was always a warm welcome would not be doing you any justice.

You were so eager, pliant as he towered over you. Your hands, so soft and gentle as they removed his hat. Then moving to his suspenders, sliding them off his shoulders. His shirt was next, pushing the buttons through the eyelets, before it too was pulled off his body. The gun belt followed, set carefully off to the side, he worked on slipping out of his boots as you did this. The way you two moved together was like a well oiled machine. There was no need for words between the two of you. You knew each other so intimately, inside and out. But working together for years will do that, even if you had mainly given up on pulling heists. You were more than content to stay near camp, or whatever town was closest.

Although Arthur had to admit he missed when it would just be the two of you on a job. The thrill of a job well done flowing through your veins, sleeping naked under the stars, not having to worry about staying quiet.

But he didn’t blame you for not wanting that part of the life anymore. After a too close call which had left you nearly bleeding out as he rode as fast as he could back to camp, you had all but retired. Dutch would never have allowed a full retirement.

Arthur could see the line of trees leading to Shady Bell, that familiar tug in his stomach as he spurred his horse forward. If he had any dignity left he would have felt like a fool with how big of a smile split his face as he hitched his mare. Slipping her a sugar cube for a job well done before heading towards the house.

The fire was slowly dying, hot embers sizzling out. The only other noise was the snores of the other gang members. He made his way into the house, slowly shutting the door behind him. He tried his hardest to creep quickly and quietly up the stairs to your shared room. The door hinge whined as he pushed it open, wincing slightly as he shut it behind him.

There you were. Laid out in the bed, fast asleep. Your hair spread out against the pillow like a halo. Your chemise riding up your thigh, showing off a delicious amount of skin.

By now, Arthur was painfully hard, palming himself through his pants as he stepped closer. He toed off his boots, setting his hat down on a table nearby. He would have much rathered you undressing him, but he would have to settle for doing it himself. He shoved his suspenders off before his gun belt fell to the floor with a thud.

You stirred slightly, your brows pinched in an adorable expression. Obviously annoyed by the noise disturbing your peaceful slumber. He felt a twinge of guilt, he shouldn’t disturb you. It wasn’t often that you were actually at peace, only when you were asleep. You had been sleeping deeper ever since the gang settled here. The walls of Shady Bell offered you and its inhabitants more security than the canvas of a tent.

But you were so pretty, so soft and all his. You wanted this, his cock twitched at the memory. You had told him that if he ever returned when you were asleep, to take what he needed. He had never done it yet, something about it made him feel wrong, dirty. He would never do anything to take advantage of your trust or to harm you.

Your leg slid up further on the bed. Almost like you were subconsciously spreading your legs for him. His eyes went straight to your core, his knees almost buckling at the sight of your wet cunt. No bloomers. If that wasn’t a silent invitation he didn’t know what was.

He moved quickly, stumbling out of his pants. He was surprised he hadn’t ripped the buttons off his shirt with how hard he had janked them through the eyelets.

He was painfully hard, standing over you with his cock in his hand, red and leaking precum. You let out a soft sigh, your lips parting slightly. Any resolve that he had been holding onto was long gone. He knelt down on the bed, crawling towards you. His calloused hands moving up your calf and thigh, lifting the bottom of your chemise over your stomach. He slid his hands back down your belly to your core, running his finger through your folds before settling on your clit. He didn’t necessarily want to wake you, and if he did, he wanted you to awake to pure pleasure. He gave the slightest bit of pressure with his thumb, gently circling it. A small huff leaving your lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your pussy, unable to decide which one he wanted to watch more. He slipped one finger inside your heat, his lips quirked up as he watched your brows pinch together. He curled his index finger, rubbing up against your walls. A small moan left your lips, his cock twitched against his belly. He let out a small groan pressing his hips down onto the sheets, looking for any source of stimulation he could find. Not wanting to touch himself just yet, wanting to drag out your and his pleasure as long as possible.

He added another finger, licking his lips as he inched closer to you. If only he could move you to your back and bury his face into your cunt. But right now he needed you. He started to scissor his fingers inside you, making sure you were stretched out enough for him. Although with how wet you were and the soft sounds of pleasure leaving your lips, he was sure you were ready.

He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, smirking as you frowned, moving your hips up to try and follow his hand. “Give me a second darlin’.” He whispered, coating his dick with your slick. Pumping himself a couple times before spreading your legs a bit wider so he could fit between your legs. He bit his lip as he notched the head of his cock at your entrance, trying to stifle the groan working through his chest. Slowly he pushed in, your wet warm heat enveloping him.

Arthur was sure this was the closest to the pearly gates he’d ever get. His eyes squeezed tight as it took him everything not to blow his load right then and there.

“Arthur?” You gasped, a soft noise that had him squeezing your hips with a vice like grip.

“It’s me, sweetheart.” He said, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned over you. Sheathing himself inside you completely, his pelvis pressed against your ass.

“Arthur.” You preened, pushing back against him.

“Missed ya, girl.” He huffed, withdrawing his cock before thrusting back inside you. You let out a cry as his cock pressed up against that delicious spot.

“Ah-“ Arthur reached forward, covering your mouth with his hand to quiet your moan.

“Hush,” He groaned, leaving open mouthed kisses down your neck. You were trembling under him. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he snapped his hips into yours. “Can ya be a good girl and stay quiet?”

You nodded, whimpering against his palm. The smell of gunpowder and leather filling your senses, only heightening your pleasure. You bit your lip as he moved his hand lower, gently applying pressure to your neck. You whimpered as your body buzzed with pleasure, his cock rubbing up against your silken walls.

“Yeah, my good girl.” You could practically feel the way his chest puffed up with pride. You were dangerously close to the edge.

“I’m gonna-“ You whined, fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Gonna cum?” He smirked, his hot breath fanning against your shoulder. “Go ahead darlin’.”

Stars danced behind your eyes as you gushed around his cock. Your whole body trembling as your orgasm washed over you in waves. “F-fuck!” You hissed, biting down on your lip as you tried to keep quiet.

Arthur’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle as he looked down at you. Before it was replaced with a groan as you clenched down on him.

“Shit- I ain’t,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “ain’t gonna last long if ya keep squeezin’ me like that.” His breath fanning across your cheek. You mewled pathetically, unable to stop the whine that left your lips.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you up onto your knees. You gasped at the sudden change in position. Your breath being thrusted out of your lungs as he pounded into you. The rickety bed frame whining under the movement of your two bodies. His large hands dug into your hips, bruises would no doubt be forming in their place by tomorrow morning.

“Take it-“ He huffed, sweat dotting his brow as he bit down on his lip. “That’s right- fucking take it.” He laid his hand between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into the mattress. He can feel your pussy fluttering around him, making him groan again. “Yeah, ya close girl?”

“Uh huh!” Your cry muffled by the blankets.

“Go on- go on and soak my cock.” He pants, his hips stuttering as he nears his own release, “Ya go and I’m goin’ with ya.” He warns, slamming his hips into yours over and over.

You fall over the edge, not worried about staying quiet anymore. Tears blur your vision as you tremble under him. Your whole body went limp as you clenched down around him.

His head fell forward, pressing his forehead against your back as his hips stuttered. Rocking into you one, two, three more times before he’s gone. Groaning out your name as his cock pulses inside you, his hips giving tiny jerks as he empties into you.

You let out a soft sigh, turning your head to look up at him. Pride swelling in your chest as you take in his disheveled appearance. His honey brown hair, like a curtain in front of his eyes. He shudders as he withdraws his hips, his release slowly dripping out of your puffy cunt.

You roll over onto your back, reaching up to brush his hair back. He takes in a deep breath, lazily smiling down at you.

“Job go well?” You asked softly, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Very well.” He chuckles laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around your waist as he lays his head against your breast. Listening to the rapid beat of your heart.

“Good.” You smiled, running your fingers through his locks, “Good night honey.” You said kissing the top of his head before closing your eyes.

“Night darlin’.” He said softly, the sound of your thumping heart the perfect lullaby.

[kiwi-on-ice]

Sugar daddy headcannons with Ashe, Hanzo, Sombra and Lifeweaver with fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics present in some, sex toys, just general filth

Notes: Listen, sometimes a girl just needs someone to pay them to be pretty, okay? Just some silly headcannons of the characters I think would spend the most money on their partners.

Ashe:

Oh baby, she’s the DEFINITION of a sugar daddy. Nothing on earth can stop her from spoiling you.

New clothes, new nails, new accessories, new car, new hairstyle…all bought without a second thought and a slap on your ass. I mean if you’re gonna be the special doll of the leader of the deadlock gang, you’re gonna have to look the part.

Especially if she’s planning on having you sit on her lap during a meeting. Wants your nails done and a new dress on you so everyone can look on in jealousy that you’re hers.

Yes that also extends to lingerie. She’s gonna buy you the most expensive types, with different colours, textures, everything. Typically as a present, an apology for when she goes away for one of her heists or a business meeting.

But it doesn’t stop there, she’ll get you anything just to keep you happy. Any nerdy interest you have, or food you’ve always wanted to try. She’s a generous woman with her money, but only for you.

And hey…maybe she does expect a little sugar in return, but it’s not like you’re complaining. When she’s deep in your cunt, strap pounding away as she groans, buying one that stimulates her clit the more she thrusts into you.

Definitely the type to coo at you “awe baby, you bein’ good for me? For your sugar daddy? Gonna give me some sugar so I keep spoilin’ your fine ass?” while you’re gasping for air at how good she’s railing you.

Yeah she ain’t calling herself a sugar mommy, no no she’s your sugar daddy, and you know your place.

Hanzo:

Yeah he’s definitely into being a sugar daddy for you, especially while he was still part of the shimada clan.

He’s a busy man, and a busy man needs some stress relief. So having a pretty thing like you certainly helps those urges after a shitty day.

Kinda nonchalant about spoiling you, tossing you a wad of cash and demanding you to get something pretty to wear tonight, or to get your nails redone after one chipped off.

He doesn’t spend a lot of money, so he might as well spend it on you, if you’re good that is. Stay well behaved and don’t mouth off and you’ll get rewarded.

Always has a catch though. If he pays to get your nails done, he always wants a demonstration that night of how they look. Which almost always involves your pretty fingers wrapped around his dick, while he gets out a gruff “they look nice angel” as you pump him.

Or if he buys you a new car, so he tests how good you can drive it by fingering you while you drive around some backroads. After all, if he’s gonna buy you a pretty car, gotta make sure you won’t crash it and wreck it, right?

But hey if your pussy gushing around his skilled fingers means you have to stop the car, he can think of another way of proving you deserve the vehicle, which is how you’ll find yourself bent over the seats with his cock in your mouth.

The man is always buying you lingerie, because those are gonna be your permanent underwear now. Every time you undress, he expects to see one of the pretty sets he got you, so he can peel them off himself. Sometimes if you go to a formal event, his hand may go wandering up your dress to feel the material of your panties to make sure.

Definitely isn’t into being called a sugar daddy though (father issues and all that), so best stick to sir.

Sombra:

Another serial lingerie buyer. Loves hacking into your online wish lists to get you things, but lingerie is her fav. Yes she will be buying purple sets the same colour as her hair.

Also gonna buy you bodysuits too, lace ones with matching stockings and garters; all of it. She’ll leave it in a nicely packaged box on your bed (and mostly likely watch your reaction through the cameras she had you install in your house)

She’ll make you send her pictures and videos of you in the clothes she buys, will save it to her phone’s folder titled ‘my investment💜’. If she’s feeling in a particular mood, she’ll text you instructions on what she wants you do to in the videos, like how to touch yourself or what to say.

But she’s not shy about buying you anything that you want, or more importantly anything she thinks you need. This includes the best electronics on the market, phones, laptops, headphones, tablets, anything. All encrypted of course, the only person who should be able to hack into your stuff is her.

She might tease you by calling herself your sugar mommy, but not with a serious tone. She knows that you’re more to her than just a sugar baby. And she knows that it’s not just her money that keeps you around, you’re addicted to her.

And she proves it, by having you sit in the apartment she pays for, in your pretty purple lingerie she got you, bouncing up and down on a dildo she sent you, in front of your new phone as she watches from her computer set-up, a smirk on her face at how obedient you are. And hey, if her fingers find themselves on her aching clit, who’s gonna stop her?

Lifeweaver:

Nghhhhhh I’m going feral. You know this man has money, if his family's wealth is anything to go by. And he’s gonna be spoiling you to death.

Honestly it turns him on to buy you the finest things in life, especially if you aren’t used to such luxuries. Just watching your eyes light up at what he’s bought you, at what he knows you deserve, has his dick rock hard.

He’ll most likely get you jewellery the most, the finest he can of course. And he obviously takes note of your preferences; if you only wear silver, the silver it shall be, or if you only wear gold, that’s what you’ll have on your neck and fingers and ears.

If it’s a necklace he’s bought you, he’ll insist on putting it on for you. Securing it around your neck, he’ll lean in to press kisses along the back of you neck and shoulder, worshiping you. If he’s bought you a ring, he’ll kiss from your knuckle up your arm, spurred on by your giggles.

Nothing is too much for you, even if you’re too shy to ask for what you want. If he sees your eyes lingering on a particular bag or necklace or outfit, he’ll make a note to get it for you later.

Will insist you try everything on for him that night too, your pretty dresses and tops and skirts and leggings. Will have you do a twirl so his eyes can roam your entire form, before giving you the sweetest, most indulgent compliments.

And then you’ll probably find yourself sat on his plush bed in front of the mirror, as he’s on his knees eating you out like a man starved. Murmuring against mouthfuls of your cunt to look at how pretty you are in the mirror. Instructing you to repeat it, to tell him that you deserve the best things and that you’re the prettiest girl in the world as you gush on his tongue.

Definitely does not like the term sugar daddy, as it implies he’s only buying you things with the expectation of sex. But I mean, if you really want to call him daddy, he’d do anything to make you feel good.

[avayarising]

Deaths of Dick Grayson

Part of the Batfam Death Project.

Dick has died four times and travelled to a world of the dead twice. Total time dead: up to several weeks.

Verifiable deaths

1. Killed by the Joker (Emperor Joker, 2000)

Dick was killed by the Joker after Joker stole reality-altering powers from Mxyzptlk and remade the universe to his liking.

It’s unclear exactly how he died, but Joker kept Nightwing’s dead and rotting corpse alongside Tim’s and Jason’s.

Dick was brought back to life when the universe was restored by Mxyzptlk and Hal Jordan (as the Spectre) after Superman defeated Joker.

Time dead: unclear, but it appears to be multiple days and theoretically could be several weeks.

2. Briefly killed by Mr Fun (Batman: Family 2:7, 2003)

Dick was killed by Mr Fun, a skilled assassin working for a gang boss calling herself Athena (who was also CEO of Wayne Enterprises and trying to bring it down from the inside). Mr Fun crept up on Nightwing, hit him in the head with a golf club and then, while he was concussed and disoriented, used pressure points to stop his breathing and heart.

Cass fought Mr Fun off Nightwing, but Mr Fun shot her off the roof with one of dead Nightwing’s wrist rockets. When Cass recovered, Mr Fun had left (to kill the person they were supposed to be guarding). She returned to Nightwing and resuscitated him using CPR, which apparently cured his head injury too.

Time dead: long enough for Cass to fight off Mr Fun (which wasn’t easy) and recover from being shot down, and then give Dick CPR, so probably a good few minutes.

3. Killed and raised by Lex Luthor (Forever Evil 6–7, 2014)

Dick was hooked up to a murder machine involving a bomb wired to his heart, such that it could only be disarmed by killing Dick. Lex Luthor stopped his heart by making him swallow a pill.

Batman of course then started going feral on Lex until Lex persuaded him that he could bring Dick back, which he did with a shot of adrenaline to the heart.

Time dead: long enough for Batman to get in a good couple of punches on Luthor, plus time for Luthor to detach Dick from the machine, so probably up to two minutes.

4. Beaten to death by groblins (Dark Nights: Death Metal 7, 2021)

Dick, along with other members of the Batfamily, was overwhelmed by a swarm of ‘groblins’: mindless evil Jokerised Robins invading from the Dark Multiverse, led by the Robin King (an evil child Bruce Robin). His death happens off-panel but we see his corpse lying on the ground.

(Then Bruce, who was already dead and a Black Lantern, raised his dead family members as zombies.)

Dick was restored to proper life when Wonder Woman, powered by the determination of her friends, defeated the evil Batman Who Laughs and persuaded the gods to remake the multiverse as it was before the evil universes invaded the good ones.

Time dead: somewhere from quarter of an hour to an hour? Or perhaps a lot longer, if it took longer to rebuild the world. It’s always a little tricky to be sure when world remakes are involved.

Afterlife visits

A trip to Dis (Titans 1:4, 1999)

Dick, along with the rest of the Titans, signed a magic book created by a demon called Goth that summoned them to Dis, a region of Hell. Goth had positioned himself as an actor and superstar and got his fans to sign the book, then led them in a chant to transport them to Dis.

Kory was amongst those who had signed the book and was transported, so Dick and the rest of the Titans went after her.

They discover that the way to get out is to find things to care about, and spend some time individually persuading people to care one at a time, but they start to lose hope, infected by the aura of apathy in Dis. Kory, who is less affected, attacks Goth and throws him down from a height, causing his fans to return to the mortal world because they are worried about Goth and the Titans to return because they are worried about Kory.

Time in afterlife: looks like several hours.

Hell heist (Nightwing 4:103, 2023)

Raven created a portal to bring Nightwing, along with Beast Boy and Cyborg, to Hell to find Blockbuster’s contract with the demon Neron, wherein Blockbuster sold the soul of his firstborn daughter, a nine-year-old called Olivia.

They found the contract and returned to the mortal realm, also courtesy of Raven. (Turned out Neron’s contract was easy to thwart: Dick just had to become a foster parent and assume legal guardianship of Olivia. Neron tried to tempt Dick with super powers, but while Dick very much enjoyed the free sample he was not even briefly tempted to give up Olivia for them.)

Time in afterlife: probably a few hours of travel, fighting, and research.

Batfam Death Project Masterpost

[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.

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