#jesper fahey x reader
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wh0refornikolailantsov · 2 years ago
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Prompt: “I dunno… kiss the nightmare better?”
for Jesper x reader please!! <3
Don't Like Sleep, But We Like Sleeping In - Jesper Fahey
Content Warnings: Suggestive Content. Mentions Of Relationship Insecurities. No Beta/Proof Reading.
Short little fluffy fluff.
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The gentle shaking, and then slightly less gentle shaking of your shoulder rouses you from your sleep. "Jesper?" You mumble, voice laced with the heaviness of your dream.
"Did I wake you?" He asks, wrapping an arm around you.
"Yes," you tell him, blinking the sleep away, "and I can tell you meant to."
"I had a bad dream," he admits. That wakes you up. Jesper doesn't get bad dreams often, that's more your territory, and even more so he wouldn't normally admit something was bothering him so casually, not this late at night. He would usually just try to joke it away.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask leaning against his chest for better support.
"Not really," he admits.
"Okay, then what can I do for you?" You ask, giving him a sleepy smile.
"I dunno... kiss the nightmare better?" This suggestion gets a gentle chuckle from you.
"If that'll help," you lean up to kiss him and he softens with the affection. Your hand is flush against his heart and you can feel the rhythm of his beats.
"Yeah, you're so in love with me," he whispers against your lips.
"Was that ever in doubt?" You ask, pulling back to look him in his eyes, searching for any traces that he might truly have uncertainty about it. He shakes his head but you can see it in his face. "You woke me to check that I'm still in love with you, didn't you?"
"Is there a way to play this off as charming and rogue ish?" He asks. You laugh and rest your face in the crook of his neck, planting a gentle kiss.
"Jesper Fahey, every time you as much as look at me I fall in love with you all over again," you tell him.
"Kiss me again," he says, placing a hand h dear your chin to guide you to him, "and please, do not stop this time."
Your brain is fuzzy by the time the knock occurs against the door. You both ignore it the first time. The second time Nina's voice accompanies the knocking. "I know you guys are awake," she hums.
"Then you know we are busy, come back in," Jesper is punctuating each word with a kiss against your lips, "a while."
"Not a chance, be dressed in five or I am sending Kaz in."
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ctrlzirl · 1 year ago
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
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swanimagines · 4 months ago
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Hi!! Could you do a F9 with Jesper Fahey? Thank you!!
Prompt: F9. Morning kisses
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A PERFECT MORNING
The mornings at the Slat were always different from those at your apartment. There was a lot of noise and an occasional stench of drainage, but unfortunately being seen in your circles with your boyfriend wasn’t really desirable either. The man was known to work for a criminal gang after all, while you were supposed to be at the “better” side of society. Tea parties and meaningless banter, looking at posh men and women around you in fancy suits and dresses. So, the Barrel and the Slat were your place to be when you wanted to be together. No one here didn’t look twice, especially when you dressed modestly when you made your way there.
That said, you would have never believed you’d ever grow fond of that place. You wouldn’t move there, you didn’t bear a death wish, but the Barrel was… charming, for a lack of a better word. Even when it was charming just because of one thing.
And you had to admit, despite that building being creaky, stinky and noisy, it had its certain (and only) charm to wake up next to your boyfriend, his arm draped around you, his breath tickling your neck.
And this morning was among the others. Waking up next to your favourite Crow, opening your eyes to find him already looking at you with half-lidded eyes.
“Morning,” he murmured, before leaning in to kiss your neck, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips. You laughed, returning the sentiment. 
And then it proceeded like usual, you lying there together, him hovering over you as he peppered you with kisses.
“Saints,” he murmured against your lips, “how did I get so lucky?”
“Jes,” you laughed, lightly trying to nudge him to get off you, but you both knew it wasn’t done seriously. “You know I have to get going soon.”
He hummed, burying his face into your neck and mumbled, “What if I won’t let you leave today?”
You sighed. “People will notice if I’m missing.”
He groaned, pulling back slightly. “So tell them you took a day off.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t deny the offer sounded tempting. Your friends often did wonder why you were always working when you could afford a day or two off once in a while. Your colleagues had insisted you take a day off every now and then, you were the most hard-working in your department after all. But on the other hand, at daytime, there was a small risk of being seen and recognised by someone who wasn’t a Dreg.
When you had first told Jesper that, he told you that if someone sees you and threatens to sing about it, he’s grabbing Kaz along and they will go talk to that person together.
“You really think Kaz would agree to do something like that for someone who’s not Inej?” you had asked him, and he had shook his head after a moment.
“Good point. Inej could help us though,” he had suggested and looked over to the woman browsing through a newspaper.
“Inej isn’t a type of person who threatens people,” you had reminded him and the topic had dropped after that.
But even with all that swirling in your mind, looking into Jesper’s eyes always managed to make you melt, so you couldn’t help but give in. “Alright, alright. You win.”
“Yessss,” he celebrated and leaned down to kiss you again, pulling you closer. You leaned back on your forearms when his arm snaked around your waist, and your kisses deepened.
“Are you trying to keep me in bed all day?” you teased as you pulled back, and he shrugged.
“Maybe. Not a bad idea.”
You huffed, but didn’t argue about it. “Only if you bring me breakfast after this.”
“Whatever for you if I get to have you here for a while longer.”
You leaned back on the many pillows Jesper had hoarded in his bed, and surrendered to Jesper’s kisses once again.
This was going to be a lengthy morning, but also a perfect one.
Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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thesuntomyshadows · 4 months ago
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*Y/N meeting The Crows for the first time*
Jesper: I can’t believe you just walked up and talked to Kaz without getting so much as a glare! Most people can’t even look in his general direction without some kind of threat.
Y/N: I mean it would be a little weird if I couldn’t. We are engaged after all.
Jesper: ...I'm sorry, you're what?!
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happyyyandcrazyyy · 7 months ago
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love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)
summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.
or
it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.
or
“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”
warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion
kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 @demitriacalynn (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)
a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!
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i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.
Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.
It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.
ii. you break, i mend.
Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.
The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.
Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.
He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.
‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.
Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.
He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.
The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.
(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.
“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.
Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.
“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.
(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.
By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”
The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.
(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.
“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”
Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.
Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.
It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.
Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.
“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.
The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.
“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.
Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.
“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.
“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”
She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.
“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.
“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.
Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”
Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.
Saints.
It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.
The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.
“Are you with me?”
No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.
It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.
“None of that.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“I know. It’s okay.”
The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.
“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.
“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”
“I know.”
A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”
Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.
It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.
“If you break, I mend, remember?”
(mend
BREAK)
Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.
Saints be damned.
Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.
iii. a raven and a crow
The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.
He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.
It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.
“Inej?”
“Good.”
Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.
“Jes?”
“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.
He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.
The goods are safe.
“Nina?”
“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.
There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…
His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.
Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.
And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.
(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.
And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.
There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.
Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.
Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.
“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.
For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.
She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”
Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)
“You’ve got it?”
“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”
His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.
“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.
Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.
(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.
“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.
Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.
“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”
“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.
“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”
(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”
He pouts.
“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”
He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”
Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.
“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.
It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.
He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”
It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.
“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.
“A raven?”
“Yeah.”
Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.
Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”
Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.
And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.
(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”
Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.
“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.
Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.
(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”
Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.
She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”
(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.
“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”
“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.
“You know it’s true.”
He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.
Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”
And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.
Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.
“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”
The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.
“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.
(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.
“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”
Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.
“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.
“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.
(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”
It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.
The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.
R.
A Raven.
No fucking way.
He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.
Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.
(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)
iv. a broken lock and a key
Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)
(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.
After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.
He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.
Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.
On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.
So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.
It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.
Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.
“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”
(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”
And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.
He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.
She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.
“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.
He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”
“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.
“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.
“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.
“You’re gonna keep me company?”
Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”
She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.
It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.
Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”
(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.
“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.
“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.
There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.
She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”
He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”
“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.
And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”
He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.
To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”
His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.
“What?”
There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.
“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.
Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.
v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.
As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.
“Did you finally figure it out?”
He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.
“What?”
She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.
“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”
Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”
“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”
“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”
“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”
Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?
“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”
He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.
“Yeah.”
“Actually?”
She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.
“Got the documents to prove it, too.”
Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”
“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."
Jesper understands.
He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.
Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.
“Lovers, huh?”
(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.
“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”
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targaryenluvs · 2 years ago
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In a dark and rainy night, reader and jesper spend time cuddling in bed until next morning. anything for this man because he seems to give the best cuddles 🫣
Stormy Days and Warm Beds
jesper fahey x fem!reader
warnings: none really, bed invasion courtesy of reader, cuddles n kisses?? (hope you like it 🤭) pillow fights, this is so fluffy i love it
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You and Jesper had been together for only a few months. You’d been careful at the start since you knew Jesper and his uh, extracurricular activities were a known fact. He was a gorgeous, flirt sharpshooter how could he not be having fun?
You didn’t want to get your hopes up since you knew how your friend was.
But overtime his flirty side seemed to only be on around you, his smile always beamed when directed at you, he’d straighten in his chair when you entered the room and you’d once caught him whining about you being sick since he wanted to take you out to dinner.
You knew he was only yours.
And the two of you were like koalas, always clinging onto each other as if the other was a tree. You’d play with rings in order to calm yourself down sometimes, Jes would play with your hair on the regular, you’d read to him but he’d never pay attention when he was feeling extra affectionate.
Kaz even had to alter the boarding at the Slat since the two of you (Jesper begging him in his office when he had the time) always whined about being so far apart.
So when the two of you were apart, it was dreadful.
Like now, Jesper was currently out scouting with Inej and they had been for over two days. Trying to draw up a definitive schedule of a certain Museum owners daily life. They were far from the Barrel on the opposite side of Ketterdam, night and day, meaning they hadn’t come back at all.
And it was so hard to not try and run over. But Kaz explained, (multiple times since you wouldn’t take no for an answer) too many people would draw attention and you would distract Jesper vice versa.
So you settled for the next best thing, his room.
The bed was warm for some reason, the reason being Jesper had convinced Nina to swap roles with him so he could come home under the false pretence of him being ‘Too beautiful to camp out in such a dump.’
He didn’t want to disturb you so he figured he’d see you in the morning but before he could sleep his hunger became evident, so he’d gone for food downstairs.
The pillow smelt so much like him it was crazy. You’d figured it would have faded a little by now but it was so strong you were bewildered but also absolutely knackered so you ignored it, until-
“Oh. Hello random woman in my bed.” He grinned as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. (iykyk)
“Jesper Fahey I am not a random woman.”
“Samantha is that you?” Jesper joked as he approached your side of the bed as you got up and smacked him on the side with his pillow, but he quickly managed to grab it from you and throw it to the side as he took off his boots and jumped beside you eliciting a large groan from the bed underneath.
“Careful you’ll break the frame.”
“Oh no, have I seriously put on that much weight in two days? Must be all the cake.” He fake panicked whilst touching his stomach.
“Oh yeah, you’re unrecognisable.” You laughed as you laid your head on his chest whilst he brung the duvet over the two of you.
“Saints seems like I’ll have to work twice as hard to keep you in my arms love. Might as well lock you in now.” He said as his arms cages you in, then promptly attacking your side.
“Stop! Stop! I’m already here! I’m not going an-anywhere.” You cried out as you tried to wriggle out and away. He stopped and smiled proudly, “That easy huh? What do I have to do to get you out of your-”
“Jesper!”
He laughed again and you settled your arm on his chest and looked up at him as he looked down, “You take my breath away. Every time I look at you Y/n.”
You grinned, “Star struck are we?”
“Oh everyday.”
The two of you giggled and fought and kissed until the sun came up. You wouldn’t change anything about him, and he would.
Your last name perhaps?
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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 2 years ago
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Y'ALL
WE HAVE GOTTEN FEEDBACK FROM HBO MAX AND HAVE THEIR ATTENTION TO SAVE SHADOW AND BONE AND GIVE US OUR SIX OF CROWS SPIN OFF
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE SIGN THE PETITION TO SAVE SHADOW AND BONE AND OUR CROWS TO GET OUR SPIN OFFS AND MORE, THE SCRIPTS ARE COMPLETED ALREADY BEFORE NETFLIX CANCELLED THEM
SIGN THE PETITION TO HELP SAVE SHADOW AND BONE AND OUR BELOVED CROWS
Save Shadow And Bone
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they-call-me-whiskey · 2 months ago
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Jesper Fahey & Inej Ghafa
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er-osion · 4 months ago
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♡ Valentine’s Day ♡
pairing: [separate] kaz brekker x gn!reader, jesper fahey x gn!reader, inej ghafa x gn!reader, nina zenik x gn!reader, nikolai lantsov x gn!reader, david kostyk x gn!reader, the darkling x gn!reader, zoya nazyalensky x gn!reader, genya safin x gn!reader
summary: headcanons about how various Grishaverse characters celebrate Valentine’s Day with you.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: none, fluff
⋄∘∗⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄
Kaz Brekker
�� Does not care for Valentine’s day, thinks it’s a waste of time. But, if YOU like Valentine’s day, he might just put up with a small celebration (he planned the entire date night).
♡ His only request is that you two spend the night in, he doesn’t really want to parade around town tonight, for safety reasons.
♡ He wakes up extra early on the morning of Valentine’s day so he can buy you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers and leave them in a vase by your nightstand so they’re the first thing you see when you wake up
♡ Being the workaholic/control freak he is, taking the night off even for Valentine’s day is all but impossible. But he does take all his work to the Slat and sets up a very romantic ambiance in his room so the two of you can still hang out for the evening.
♡ Buys you one small gift. Most likely a piece of jewelry (probably a locket). He also gives you several days off the following weekend and tries to limit his own workload those days so he can spend more of your free time with you.
♡ Has a small dinner made for the two of you, consisting of your favorite foods and desserts that the two of you eat by candlelight in his room at the Slat, romantic music from downstairs seeping in through the floorboards.
Jesper Fahey
♡ His original intention is to make these big, elaborate plans to absolutely wow you on Valentine’s day, but he ends up getting repeatedly distracted leading up to the holiday and most of the plans fall through.
♡ Wakes you up with an onslaught of kisses and tickles and then presents you a bouquet of red roses to ask your forgiveness.
♡ One of the few tasks he didn’t get too distracted to do was book a reservation at a super fancy restaurant in the financial district, and he practically skips hand and hand with you while the two of you walk to the restaurant.
♡ Gets you a teddy bear and like 5 boxes of chocolate that he ends up splitting half with you because “sharing is caring”.
♡ For some reason, the two of you started a tradition where, in preparation for your dinner reservation, Jesper tries on multiple elaborate outfits for you. This “fashion show” helps him pick out an outfit for your date and gives the two of you lots of laughs, plus you help him dress and undress between each outfit.
♡ The two of you end the day with a friendly card game up in his room, more often than not it’s something stupidly scandalous like strip poker, but whatever it is, it’s a fun little way to end an exciting day.
Inej Ghafa
♡ I think Inej would really like Valentine’s day, but she’s not one to want to make it a huge public affair for the two of you.
♡ Doesn’t really have any preferences on what the two of you do, but would be very happy just staying in cuddling and chit chatting and whatnot.
♡ The two of you have this cute tradition where you style each other’s hair, just the two of you sitting in Inej’s bed, fingers running along each other’s scalp in a very soothing and relaxed way.
♡ After spending a very calm and relaxed morning in Inej’s room, the two of you move downstairs and spend a few hours cooking together. The two of you make your respective comfort foods together, it’s a very domestic scene.
♡ The two of you eat the meal at the counter in the kitchen, taking a long time to savor the food and the company.
♡ After eating, the two of you make your way back to her room and you guys spend the rest of the day talking incessantly while toying with each other's hands and trading gifts that most likely consist of nice quality bangle bracelets.
Nina Zenik
♡ I imagine Nina is also a big fan of Valentine’s day, but unlike Inej, she is perfectly fine making a big affair out of it.
♡ First thing on her agenda? Breakfast in bed. Then the two of you pick out cute outfits for each other and leave the Slat to spend a day out in the nicer parts of Ketterdamn.
♡ First, you guys take a nice long stroll down the docks, possibly sharing a small thing of street food and overall just enjoying the beautiful view of the early morning sun on the water.
♡ Instead of buying each other presents beforehand, you and Nina spend a few hours shopping (and shoplifting) in the financial district.
♡ Before ending your day out, you and Nina go to your bevolved local diner to share waffles and Valentine’s day themed drinks.
♡ In the evening, you and Nina dance in the lobby of the Slat together to the live musicians for a couple of hours. Then, once thoroughly tired out, you and Nina sneak upstairs and spend the final hours of the waning evening in each other’s arms
Nikolai Lantsov
♡ This dramatic bitch LOVES Valentine’s day.
♡ Goes all out for you. You’re woken with kisses and whispered sweet nothings against your skin. And when you open your eyes, bushels upon bushels upon bushels of bouquets are strewn about next to your shared bed.
♡ Breakfast is had in bed, of course, and Nikolai takes way too much delight in feeding you.
♡ He then takes you on an incredibly romantic excursion. Taking you there on horseback to a beautiful secluded spot that feels like something out of a fairytale.
♡ He’s extra clingy on Valentine’s day, hands and lips all over you. At your little picnic, he gives you about half of the presents he bought for you. It’s all small stuff because it had to travel well, like jewelry, tickets to the ballet, coupons to your favorite restaurant, and tons of sweets.
♡ Once the sun begins to set, you two make your way back home and then spend the rest of the night in your chambers. Your dinner is small, a quiet and intimate affair where the two of you finish exchanging presents, somehow holding hands the entire time.
David Kostyk
♡ I think David would be rather indifferent to Valentine’s day, but he wants to make you feel special so he does his best to impress you.
♡ His main gift is one of those cheesy “coupon booklets” that have coupons like ‘one free hug’, ‘five free kisses’, ‘two free massages’.
♡ He also made you some really cute handmade trinkets and cards, putting together his love of crafts and love for you into a very personal Valentine’s day gift.
♡ Let’s you choose the itinerary for the day and just kind of follows you wherever you go like a lovesick puppy, holding your hand in public way more often than he usually would.
♡ The two of you like taking a long walk through the palace gardens, stopping every once in a while at a little alcove or gazebo to sit and rest while continuing your unending conversation.
♡ Ends the day with one of David’s favorite things to do with you: reading to you in bed while you’re snuggled up into his side.
The Darkling
♡ I just can’t really see the Darkling as a fan of Valentine’s day.
♡ This doesn’t mean he isn’t romantic or actively shits on the holiday, he just thinks it’s a little childish and stupid. Still, he’s a little extra romantic on this day, subconsciously influenced by society around him.
♡ Has the servants prepare a lavish breakfast for the two of you to start your day.
♡ Takes you on a short getaway for two days to another town, probably somewhere along the coast. The two of you stay in a small, humble cottage and enjoy some domestic bliss in private by the sea.
♡ Gifts you a load of fine and expensive clothes that he knows you’d been looking at for months.
♡ Really loves ending the day by stargazing with you on the beach at your little vacation home.
Zoya Nazyalensky
♡ I don’t imagine Zoya as a Valentine’s day fanatic. I think she’d see it as annoying and a waste of time.
♡ She has a lot of work to do so the two of you don’t get to have breakfast together, but she speedruns as much of her paperwork as possible so she can call it a day extra early and spend the rest of the day with you.
♡ The two of you take a little trip to a nearby lake and have a small swim and picnic together in the midafternoon.
♡ After returning to the palace, the two of you go back to her chambers and spend several hours just chatting and enjoying each other’s company.
♡ I think Zoya would really love sharing a bath together, she just thinks it’s so intimate and vulnerable so the two of you spend a long time relaxing in a warm bath together.
♡ Gifts you a few bouquets of flowers and some books that she knew you wanted.
Genya Safin
♡ I can totally see Genya loving Valentine’s day.
♡ She got the two of you matching Valentine’s day themed outfits and had breakfast served in her room so the two of you could have a lazy morning together.
♡ Gifts you a cuddly teddy bear, a box of chocolates, and a large bouquet of red roses.
♡ The two of you spend most of the day out in the capital, doing all the classic coupley activities and taking advantage of the Valentine's day discounts for couples.
♡ I think Genya would especially love getting manicures and pedicures done together, getting the couple’s discount at her favorite salon and then showing off her nails to everyone since she got them blinged out in the color of your eyes.
♡ Ends the day gossiping and dancing together in her room until the two of you fall into her bed and cuddle asleep.
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that-one-ostrich-friend · 6 months ago
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Could I request a Jesper X reader where reader breaks down after a heist and he comforts reader? 🖤
Comfort
jesper x reader - comfort
word count: 2k
summary: after a messy heist jesper finds y/n ridden with guilt and comforts her
warnings: mentions of violence
a/n: first time writing for jesper so i really hope i did him justice <3 also i can’t believe i forgot how cute kit is
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The warehouse smelled of gunpowder and saltwater. Echoes of shouting still seemed to reverberate in the air, though the crew had long since scattered to regroup at the safe house. Y/n stumbled through the labyrinth of crates, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing.
     The job was a success—technically. The prize was in Kaz’s hands, and the rest of them had made it out in one piece. But it had been messy. Too messy. Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d pushed their luck too far this time.
     She turned a corner and collapsed against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the cold, damp floor. Her trembling hands clenched into fists, trying to banish the image that haunted her: the guard who had stepped in her path, the knife in her hand, the sudden, sickening warmth of blood.
     Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She knew the rules of the Barrel as well as anyone. Kill or be killed. It wasn’t personal, it was survival. But knowing that didn’t stop the guilt from twisting her insides.
    Y/n curled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her arms as silent sobs wracked her body.
━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━
     Jesper Fahey had a knack for finding people who didn’t want to be found. Usually, that skill came in handy when he was tracking marks, but tonight, it served a different purpose.
     He’d noticed Y/n slipping away after the heist, her expression guarded but her hands trembling just enough for him to catch it. The others were celebrating their victory back at the safe house, but Jesper couldn’t bring himself to join them. Not when Y/n wasn’t there.
     He found her in a shadowed corner of the warehouse, her figure hunched and small against the vast, empty space. Jesper approached quietly, not wanting to startle her.
     “Y/n,” he said softly.
     Her head shot up, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint glow of a nearby lantern. She blinked rapidly, trying to compose herself. “Jesper,” she croaked, her voice raw. “What are you doing here?”
     Jesper crouched a few feet away, giving her space but making it clear he wasn’t leaving. “Looking for you. The others are at the safe house, but you weren’t there.”
     Y/n turned her face away, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “I just needed some air.”
     “Air doesn’t usually make people cry,” Jesper said gently, his tone devoid of his usual teasing.
     Y/n let out a bitter laugh, her shoulders slumping. “Guess I’m bad at lying.”
     Jesper smiled faintly, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”
     For a moment, Y/n didn’t respond. The weight of Jesper’s words hung between them, and she fought the urge to spill everything.
     “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered finally, her voice cracking.
     Jesper tilted his head, his dark eyes soft with understanding. “Didn’t mean to do what?”
     Her hands clenched around the fabric of her pants, knuckles white. “The guard. He wasn’t even trying to attack me. He just—he was there. And I panicked.”
     Jesper’s heart ached at the pain in her voice. He knew that guilt, that gnawing feeling that you’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross.
     “Y/n,” he said, his voice steady but warm, “you did what you had to. It’s ugly, and it’s unfair, but it doesn’t make you a monster.”
     She shook her head, her tears spilling freely now. “You don’t understand. I didn’t have to kill him, Jesper. I could’ve done something else. I could’ve—”
     “Hey,” Jesper interrupted, scooting closer to her. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering near her shoulder. “Look at me.”
     Reluctantly, Y/n met his gaze, her watery eyes reflecting the faint light.
     “You’re human,” Jesper said firmly. “You make split-second decisions in the middle of chaos, and sometimes they’re not perfect. That doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. It means you’re trying to survive in a world that doesn’t play fair.”
     Y/n let out a shaky breath, her shoulders trembling. Jesper hesitated for only a moment before draping an arm around her.
     “Come here,” he murmured.
     At first, she stiffened, unsure if she deserved the comfort he was offering. But the warmth of his embrace was impossible to resist. Slowly, she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.
     Jesper’s heart was racing, but he kept his voice calm. “There we go. That’s better, isn’t it?”
     Y/n let out a soft laugh, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “You’re impossible, Fahey.”
     “And you’re stubborn, so I guess we balance each other out.”
     They sat like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable now. Jesper’s arm tightened around her, his fingers lightly tracing circles on her shoulder.
     “Thank you,” Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible.
     Jesper smiled, though it was softer than his usual grin. “For you? Always.”
     He didn’t mean to kiss her head—it was instinctive, a fleeting gesture born of his overwhelming affection for her. His lips brushed against her hair so lightly she might not have noticed.
     If Y/n had any reaction, she didn’t show it. Instead, she let out a long, slow sigh and nestled closer to him, letting his presence anchor her in the storm.
     Jesper didn’t know when he’d started falling for Y/n, but it had hit him like a bullet. Hard and fast, knocking him off balance.
     She was different from anyone he’d ever met—quiet, steady, with a sharp mind that could outwit even Kaz on a good day. But it wasn’t just her intelligence or her skill that drew him in. It was the way she carried herself, like she was always on the edge of breaking but refused to let the world see it.
     Jesper was obsessed. He noticed everything about her, from the way she absentmindedly twirled her hair when she was thinking to the way her eyes lit up when she solved a problem.
     And now, sitting here with her in his arms, Jesper realized just how far gone he was.
     Jesper couldn’t help but notice how perfectly Y/n fit against him. Her head rested just below his collarbone, and the way her body relaxed, melting into his side, made his heart ache in the best way.
     He wanted to say something, to confess how he felt, but the moment was too fragile. Y/n’s breaths were evening out now, the tension in her body easing as the storm inside her quieted. Jesper didn’t dare ruin it.
     Instead, he kept his arm wrapped around her, grounding both of them in the silence.
     Y/n’s voice broke through the stillness. “You’re too good at this.”
     Jesper tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “At comforting beautiful women after high-stakes heists? It’s a niche skill.”
     She huffed out a laugh, the sound soft and warm. “I mean it. You always know what to say. How do you do that?”
     Jesper’s grin faltered, replaced by something more sincere. “It’s easy when it’s you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual.
     Y/n turned her head slightly to look up at him, her brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
     Jesper hesitated, his heart pounding. He could play it off, throw out a joke to deflect, but the weight of the moment held him still.
     “I mean…” He swallowed hard, his usual bravado failing him. “I care about you, Y/n. A lot. Probably more than I should.”
     Y/n blinked up at him, her breath hitching. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. The vulnerability in Jesper’s voice, the way he refused to meet her eyes now, struck her like a bolt of lightning.
     “You—care about me?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
     Jesper let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Care about you, like you, borderline obsessed with you. Take your pick.”
     Y/n stared at him, her mind racing. She’d always known Jesper was charming, a flirt with anyone who crossed his path. But this… this felt different. It felt real.
     “I thought you just flirted with everyone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
     Jesper looked at her then, his dark eyes serious in a way she rarely saw. “I do flirt with everyone,” he admitted, “but not like this. Not like you.”
     The air between them grew heavier, the unspoken feelings hovering just out of reach. Y/n bit her lip, her heart thundering in her chest.
     “I don’t know what to say,” she confessed, her voice trembling.
     Jesper’s smile softened. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. And—well, I’m not expecting anything. I just… care. And I’m here, for whatever you need.”
     Y/n’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, they weren’t from guilt or sadness. They were from relief, from the overwhelming comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone.
     “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For everything.”
     Jesper reached up, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Always, darling.”
     The term of endearment slipped out naturally, but this time, Y/n didn’t flinch or roll her eyes like she usually did. Instead, she smiled—a small, tentative smile that sent warmth blooming in Jesper’s chest.
     “I mean it,” she said, her voice stronger now. “I don’t know how you do it, but you make everything feel… lighter. Like it’s not all on me.”
     Jesper’s heart swelled. “That’s because it’s not all on you. It’s on us. And you’ve got me, whether you like it or not.”
     Y/n laughed softly, the sound like music to Jesper’s ears. “I think I like it.”
     Jesper’s grin turned softer, more vulnerable. “Yeah?”
     Y/n nodded, her gaze holding his. Her eyes were still glassy from tears, but they held a quiet determination now, like she’d made a decision she wasn’t going to overthink.
     “You mean it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
     Jesper tilted his head, his dark eyes locked on hers. “Every word.”
      Y/n hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. Then, before she could second-guess herself, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
      Jesper froze for a split second, his mind going blank. Then he melted into the kiss, his hand sliding to cup her face as he deepened it just enough to make her breath hitch.
     Y/n’s hands clutched at the front of his coat, pulling him closer. There was nothing rushed or frantic about the kiss—it was warm and slow, filled with all the emotions neither of them had been able to put into words.
     When they finally pulled back, Jesper couldn’t contain the stupid grin that spread across his face.
     “Well,” he said, his voice slightly breathless, “that wasn’t on my bingo card for tonight, but I’m not complaining.”
     Y/n laughed, her cheeks flushing as she shook her head, an expression that Jesper wanted to bottle up and carry with him forever. “You’re ridiculous.”
     “Ridiculously into you,” he quipped, earning a giggle from her.
     But when Y/n leaned in again, her lips brushing against his for another kiss, Jesper decided he’d never been happier to be ridiculous.
━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━
     The safe house was alive with the sounds of celebration, but Jesper and Y/n lingered outside the door for a moment, their hands entwined.
     Jesper turned to her, his expression soft but playful. “So, does this mean I can flirt with you openly now, or should I keep pretending I’m subtle?”
     Y/n smirked. “You’ve never been subtle a day in your life.”
     Jesper grinned. “Good. Because I think everyone should know how hopelessly smitten I am.”
     Y/n rolled her eyes but tugged him inside, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks.
     And as the others welcomed them back with cheers and questions, Jesper’s hand never left hers, a silent promise that he’d be by her side, no matter what.
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gabbyshere · 1 year ago
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Kaz: How did this happen?!
Jesper: Look, in my defense, I was left unsupervised.
Kaz: But wasn’t Y/n with you?!
Y/n: Well, in my defense, I was also left unsupervised.
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mordredisacoolname · 2 years ago
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GRISHAVERSE CHARACTERS WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP ON THEM
Shadow and bone / six of Crows
MALE READER (can also be read as gn)
Characters: Alina Mal Genya Nikolai Kaz Inej Jesper Nina Wylan Matthias
*Mostly based on the show as I'm only in the middle of Siege and Storm
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ALINA- you were both very tired, riding in a carriage led by horses. Alina was starting outside the window when she felt a weight on her shoulder, turning her head she saw you with your eyes closed asleep on her. Smiling to herself she moved a little so you'd be more comfortable and spread a little warmth through you so you won't be cold. She tried staying as still as possible in the carriage to not wake you up.
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MAL- you were both drinking some kvas and talking nonsense outside your tent while everyone else were asleep. As he stared into the sky talking about keramzin memories he was interrupted by your head falling on his shoulder. "Do I bore you this much?" He barked out a laugh, watching your sleepy face and moving to a more comfortable position. He decided to let you sleep a little more before waking you up and returning to the tent.
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NIKOLAI- you were hanging out in his ship quarters with a few other ship mates, his arm hang around your shoulders when he felt your body leaning towards his own, your hair tickling his neck. He watched you in amusement while Tamar and Pryvet were telling a story about a past adventure, tightening his arm around you.
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GENYA- you both were sitting on a sofa in your room at the little palace, genya talking about her day and (rightfully) complaining about the queen, with a tea cup in her hand. When she asked you about your opinion, not hearing an answer she glanced at you finding out you were asleep. She presumed you were just leaning against her as you often did, but to her surprised you were just passed out from the tiring day as a grisha in the little palace. Smiling softly she carefully helped you fully lay down on the sofa, and left you to your rest.
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KAZ- you were sitting in his room trying to form the next step leading to the fall of Pekka Rollins when he felt a slight weight on his shoulder. He immediately tensed up frozen in place. He tried calling your name hoping you'd wake up but unfortunately for him you didn't. He wanted to shrag you off, and he would've if you didn't know each other for a very long time. It felt weird, anxious but also a little comforting. He stayed like this still as a statue for a few minutes before slightly tapping you on your arm to wake you up.
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INEJ- you were both sitting outside in silence wanting some peace and quiet from the loud tavern when inej felt your head slip down to her shoulder. She smiled softly, studying your face; feeling the urge to let you stay like this forever. Unfortunately it was getting late and unsafe outside, so she had to wake you up, but she really enjoyed those few minutes of you together.
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JESPER- you were sitting at a table in the barrel watching people drink, talk and play, when you felt the tiredness creeping up on you "don't you dare fall asleep and leave me alone in this boredome" said Jesper while holding some sort of drink on his hand. "I'm not asleep" you perked up at the accusation, taking a sip of your own drink you left on the table. As the time passed on, you stopped answering Jesper's questions and observations. "Not asleep my ass" he snored, finishing the rest of his drink and helping sleepy you stand up and go to your room.
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NINA- you were sitting on soft cushions near a window watching the snow. You rented a small room and decided to lit a fire and warm up a bit. You were both quiet, enjoying the outside view and the inside warmth, wrapped together in furrs. You slowly fell asleep, head tilted back when Nina noticed you're not awake, laughing quietly she guided your head on her shoulder, tightening the furr around you two.
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WYLAN- wylan was mixing some stuff together when you called him to take a break and join you on the sofa, petting the empty space besides you. After a few protests he finally agreed and sat down next to you, your arm wrapping around him. Drawing him closer you kisses his head, nuzzling your nose to his wild hair, feeling sleepy. He was telling you about what he was making when you slowly started shifting away to sleep. When he noticed he smiled trying not to move his head too much as your head was on his. He was just sitting there squished between you and the sofa, and eventually fell asleep too.
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MATTHIAS- he was sitting all grumpy away from the rest of the crows when you approached him. "Mind if I join you" you asked not waiting for his answer and sat down besides him. "Why do you ask if you're going to do that anyway" he scowled. You shrugging your shoulders leaning against him and observing everything that was going on in front of you. Announcing you were tired, you tilted your head to rest on his shoulder, instantly falling asleep. Looking at you Matthias sighed annoyingly, but let you stay mumbling something in Fjerdan.
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ctrlzirl · 1 year ago
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me when I reach the angst part of the angsty fic that I specifically chose for the angst
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hauntedfictionland · 1 year ago
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Being their emotional support person —
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☾︎✰❛❀ Shadow and bone characters x gn!reader
Includes/warnings: light mentions of PTSD, injuries, slightly stalkerish behaviours and implied romance.
🪐notes: i sort of recently got into Shadow and Bone and oh boy I'm absolutely in love, the plotlines, music, and characters are so beautifully done. I do truly hope that Netflix renews it back.
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— I. KAZ BREAKER
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(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)
You and Kaz went back quite a long time as far back as the time his brother died with his innocence. You went through that together, from the sidelines you watched him change drastically, grow into a man whose name was rather feared than loved.
Kaz doesn't admit it, but he relies on you a lot. He knows the harshness he's put upon you everyday isn't new by now, but still unwelcomed. It stings him. You almost get treated the same as any other crow, if not for the times where you'd hold his upper arm in an act of comfort when needed.
And he'd let you. ♡
You're not the most significant part of the group, or the strongly important. But you can be useful enough in his words to ‘stay’, definitely not because Kaz wants you there by his side as he's always had most of his life.
Or so what he insists.
He looks upon you along with every plan of heists, a wordless query of help. It does not look like it, but your opinions and suggestions matter to him more than you'll ever know.
And when you need a favor, he's all yours. Jesper would sometimes find him doing questionable things for a man like Kaz's taste, when he'd ask it always goes a simple “Y/N asked for this”.
When Kaz is faced with his past, especially if without black gloves he has used as a shield—he won't come to you. The most would be handing his gloves back.
But after the worst is gone, he'll slowly reach out to you. Sitting beside you, head leaning on your shoulder. That is the moment he wants the most, support to get back to the daily life.
He needs you.
Needing anything is a weakness surely but he truly never considered you his, without you he'd actually fall apart with the absence of the power to get back again. You're his strength. His support, his person.
You're his, and he's yours.
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— II. INEJ GHAFA
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(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)
Inej doesn't really feel comfortable relying on a lot of people, anyone for that matter. Yet when it comes to you it almost seems so effortless. Perhaps that's the effect you have on her.
Kaz brought you in a while ago when he was in desperate need of a healer.
When she saw you the first time, you seemed shy to the point of not even being able to hold eye contact. However as time slowly passed on you spend way more time with Inej than anyone else as she tended to get herself in all sorts of trouble.
Inej would find herself looking at you often, wondering how the alignment of your lips to the sharpness of jaw could ever be so perfect.
She started to let a few things of her past out here and there while you'd bandage her, careful enough to never reach the tip of the surface.
Bit by bit, it turned into a habit. Only now she would come to you herself and open up even when there was no scar or injury on her.
Something about the way you listened so tentatively with soft eyes that held no judgement, your words which grasped onto the feelings she couldn't seem to comprehend and your affection, all of it pulled her in.
And she could not let go.
Sometimes Inej feels a bit guilty, how you're always there yet she isn't. She wants to know about you, your interests, your fears, your life. And she wants to help. In that sense she feels worse.
She's the wraith, she's never been scared of anyone. Yet Inej feels herself becoming powerless the moment she looks at you.
And that'll be the death of her.
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— III. ALECSANDER KIRIGAN
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(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)
Much like Kaz, Kirigan is not the most reliable at showing affection. But he does know very clearly the way you've helped him will not go unnoticed or unappreciated.
Rather unexpectedly, even as a grisha on his team you've somehow managed to slip into the cracks of his facade. The demeanor he held.
After Alina fled, he wasn't in the calmest mind. And sensing you just hold him without a single word, a hand soothing his shoulder with a wave of your magic spreading around him. He in the longest while felt peace alongside tranquillity in just a few minutes.
With him in your arms, you gave him a sense of assurance without ever putting them into words.
Kirigan keeps you absolutely spoiled. He tells the extravagant jewelries and fancy wines are gestures of reward for your exertion which he'd give to anyone who'll work just as hard. Except that in truth he feels he owes you a great deal whenever his emotional hard times are mended because of you.
And it's his way of showing the utmost appreciation, almost affection you've placed in his heart for you.
The fact that you don't judge or mock, even think of him as ‘weak’ for not being the powerful general everyone sought out to be has him in a chokehold.
He thinks about you, and every one of your encounters has him thinking for weeks. Each and single one. Soley, it does come off as any surprise when Alecsander sets at least one grisha protector to watch you. Your safety is his utmost priority and even perhaps to know a little details about you and the people you talk with.
Which you don't need to know about whatsoever.
The time he revealed his true self to you, he was very much afraid that was the way he'll lose you. You'd see the monster his mother claims him to be and run far away. But instead when you embraced his dark side with a glint in your eyes, he knew you had him whipped in a tight hold.
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— IV. ALINA STARKOV
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(♥︎^⁠_^♥︎)
You first saw Alina when Zoya sent her flying across the field. Rather before that, eyes stealing glances on you.
She knew who you were, the great earth summoner. And as per who she was, Alina felt inclined to meet you. Her newly found peers brought her upon you, and when you turned to face her, Alina was quite at a loss for words.
Wonderstruck.
You seemed far much greater than she imagined, and oh she had a lot to learn from you.
Alina found you on many occasions, tried to as best she could. Questions about your powers, her powers, and secrets of the little palace. You gave them all, heart smiling fondly at her genuine curiosity.
You'd discover yourself sitting beside her, on the floor with backs leaning against the wooden bookshelves. Walks around the little palace or the library, you were growing much closer with her as the days passed.
Sometimes a word or two would slip out of her missing a certain Mal, and the camp of the first army. She would close them, a bit scared of your thoughts that is before you assure her. That whatever is was held in her heart, she could absolutely come to you.
And came she did.
You and her would spend hours under the night sky, hearing her stories of the orphanage—worries she held about herself, and Mal. Either way Alina was sure you were her answer.
The way you'd given her a tiny beam of grin, hands grazing over hers. Talking conclusions she could barely listen when her focus was your lips. A connection she felt that was electrifying.
Alina believed it was because of your power as the Earth, and her's as the Sun summoner. However in that, a deeper part of her knew something was more than that.
A single time someone referred you as her Earth summoner, the mere prospect of that—even when she knew the other meant it in no harm, drove her crazy.
The time after you comforted her about the troubles she held about Mal, sincere yet bittersweet smile on your lips. You knew she had feelings for the boy, a thought that made your gut wrench for a reason you didn't acknowledge.
When you asked her that, Alina's eyes gazed at yours before she pulled her lips on yours in return so softly you could only hum.
You were hers alright.
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thesuntomyshadows · 6 months ago
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Jesper: So, what’s the plan? We go in there and just pow, pow, pow! And grab the stuff?
Y/N: What was that noise?
Jesper: Gunfire.
Y/N: No, Jes. I think you mean pew pew pew.
Jesper: That sounds like fireworks.
Wylan: Technically, they go like pa-choo, pa-choo, pa-choo.
Kaz: Okay, enough with the bad sound effects.
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happyyyandcrazyyy · 1 year ago
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matching bracelets (kaz brekker x reader)
summary: when (y/n) buys kaz a bracelet she does so as a joke, she knows he’ll never actually wear it. imagine her surprise when she sees it dangling around his wrist.
based on the prompt: person A gets person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off.
warnings: mentions of blood and torture (not explicit, briefly mentioned)
kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)
a/n: guess who's back after a year of being mia!! i've been working on a lot of fics, but inspiration just hasn't been there, so i'm going slow, i don't like to force myself to write if i don't feel like it. anywaysss, i hope you enjoy this one! it was such a fun ride to write :)
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Jesper opens the door with a loud bang, strutting into the Slat with his head held high and a slight jump in his step. He’s whistling good-naturedly, his left hand twirling a pistol and his right hand holding a rumpled piece of paper.
(Y/N)’s right hand— which had immediately reached for the pocket knife in her boot at the tumultuous noise— retreats back to her side. She relaxes, letting her shoulders sag and briefly looking down to make the final correction on a contract Kaz had her look over, left hand holding the pen and swiftly moving over the paper.
Jesper makes his way towards her, still whistling. She follows him from the corner of her eye, a slight smirk taking over her features. He’s in a good mood, the kind of mood he’s only ever in when the Gods are in his favor and he manages to miraculously not gamble away all his money. It’s not something that happens often.
“Did you win some?” she asks, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way the Sharpshooter preens under the attention. Jesper, very much in character and to (Y/N)’s delight, twirls around and does a ridiculous dance before taking a small bow.
“Baby, I won a whole lot.”
She huffs out a laugh, leaning back as she watches him place the pistol in its respective holster before plopping down on the chair by her right side and tossing her a small bag.
(Y/N) catches it smoothly, reflexes as sharp as always.
She doesn’t need to open the sack to know there’s kruge in there; the sound of coins jiggling against each other is a dead giveaway.
Jesper winks, a teasing smile on his lips. He tips his chair back, feet on top of the table, “Because you’re my favorite.”
It’s really because he owes her more kruge than he’ll ever be able to repay, but (Y/N) plays along. She’s never cared much about money, anyways.
“You sure do know how to charm a lady,” she smirks.
“I’m good at charming gents, too.”
“Versatile.”
“You know me.”
(Y/N) smiles, softer around the edges this time, something reserved only for her closest friends. She’s about to being correcting another contact— she has twelve to go through, all because she’d been bored and had decided annoying Kaz would be a great way to spend her time, he obviously hadn’t agreed —when Jesper slides over the piece of paper he’d been holding in his right hand. In the time he’d made his way towards her he’d somehow managed to crumple it completely.
She takes it, half curious, half willing to do anything to procrastinate revising and correcting those stupid documents.
“Brought this for you, too. I’ve got the feeling you’re going to enjoy this much more than the money.”
Her eyebrows furrow with curiosity as she slowly opens up the paper.
Ink contrasts the yellowish hue of the paper. Her own face greets her, drawn by hand, but fairly accurate.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N)
Wanted dead or alive.
1,000 kruge.
She can’t help the snicker that falls from her lips
Jesper is right. This is better, much better.
“Can’t believe it’s only a thousand this time,” she huffs, a small pout on her lips. “I must be losing my touch.”
Jesper snorts at that.
(Because she hasn’t lost her touch, not even a little, and they both know it. Just yesterday she’d managed to get vital information out of a Black Tip member with a single touch and a minimal amount of bloodshed. Three days before that she’d disposed of a rival gang member who’d been speaking too freely and she’d made sure his body would never be found. Two weeks prior to that Kaz had sent her to steal a miniature stature and she’d done it without a hitch, forging an identical copy in less than five days. No, she still very much has it.)
“I might have to go overboard next time,” she muses quietly to herself, “do something that will raise the bounty to at least two thousand five hundred.”
She traces the outline of her name, biting down a smile when Jesper snorts.
“You’re insane,” the Sharpshooter deadpans, the fondness in his tone almost tangible.
(Y/N) smiles wickedly at him, “So they say.”
Marbles is what they’ve nicknamed her around the Barrel. They say she’s lost them all. And it must be true, she must be out of her mind, because having a bounty on your head in Ketterdam is nothing less than a death sentence. It means having the most ruthless assassins coming after you, all looking for a way to make fast money. It’s living with the constant fear of someone sneaking up on you and slicing your throat, of having your food poisoned, of being choked to death in your sleep, of having your closest friends betray you as a means to survive. But to (Y/N), who has been part of the city’s underworld since before being able to formulate words, who has had any sort of ability to feel fear beaten out of her, this is nothing but one of the most amazing sources of entertainment. It keeps her on her toes, brings an adrenaline rush that does not compare to anything else. She must be crazy because any sane person would be paralyzed in fear, running for their lives, and yet all she can feel is the comforting thrill of being in mortal danger. (And, yes, it is comforting. She was raised to be a weapon, trained to withstand any form of torture; having Death peering over her shoulder is something she’s comfortable with, something she’s used to, something that soothes her). Besides, even if she wasn’t deadly confident in her own abilities (which she very much is), and even if she was able to feel terror overtaking her limbs (which she doesn’t think she’ll ever feel again), the title she holds would be enough to keep her relatively safe; she is Kaz’s right hand, and no one dares touch something that belongs to Dirtyhands.
(Y/N) stares at the poster for a little while longer— they got her nose wrong, made it too pointy —before smirking to herself. She knows how this will all go down, has seen it played out a few dozen times before (this is a regular occurrence, after all, a bounty is placed on her head every couple of months, whenever she loses her temper and murders someone who was deemed untouchable, or steals something much too valuable for her blood-stained hands). So, yes, she knows how this will go; the bounty will stay up for a couple of weeks, long enough for a few to dare try to kill her, and then it’ll be removed by whoever placed it once they realize it’s futile, once they see how everyone who even dares breathe too close to her winds up dead. She hopes the assassination attempts are entertaining, she hopes whoever dares come after her head gives her a good fight, if only to keep things interesting. It’s been a while since she’s had some unrestrained fun.
(Kaz keeps her on a tight rein, knows better than to let her run around freely. To say things can get out of hand when she’s left to her own devices would be an understatement.)
“Again?”
The voice comes from behind her, and (Y/N) doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she heard his steps since before he even walked into the room. (It’s easy to know when it’s Kaz, he subconsciously places more weight on his left leg to keep the right one from aching, it makes his footsteps distinctive.) Still, she angles her head to meet his eyes. He’s leaning over her chair, cold eyes watching the bounty poster with disdain.
He’s never said it but (Y/N) knows that he doesn’t appreciate her life being imperiled. She is, in a way, an extension of him, and therefore any threats to her he sees as direct threats to him. Dirtyhands doesn’t take it well to being threatened.
“It’s okay, boss,” Jesper calls out. He’s still tipping his chair back, now playing with his guns. (Y/N) is kind of tempted to lean forward and kick one of the chair’s wooden legs, just to watch him struggle, possibly even fall. But Jesper’s known her long enough to realize when she’s on the verge of becoming a nuisance because his eyes narrow playfully and he lets the chair’s weight drop forward, “I wouldn’t worry too much.”
From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) can see the way Kaz’s face morphs. It’s almost indistinguishable, but she notices it. She thinks she would be able to spot the most minimal change in Kaz, she’s known him long enough for that. (Y/N) watches in amusement as he opens his mouth, no doubt to argue that he isn’t worrying at all, because Gods forbid he ever outwardly cared about anyone, but Jesper beats him to the punch and keeps going, “Heard some of Pekka’s Lions talking ‘bout how they’re not even going to try to come after her this time.”
“How boring,” she mutters to herself in disappointment, reaching for her glass of whisky. She’d meant for the comment to go unheard but Jesper’s snicker tells her that she wasn’t successful.
She takes a chug as Jesper points an accusatory finger at her and smirks, “That’s all on you, Marbles.”
At her bewildered look, he elaborates, “Two of them said something about not wanting to meet the same fate as the Razorgull guy from a couple of months ago—” (Y/N) smirks at that. The guy had deserved it. He hadn’t just tried to kill her, but also grope her. Murder she could understand, respect even, but touching someone else without their consent? No, she drew the line there. She’d had him swallow his own testicles; it’d seemed fitting enough. “—and the other one said that even if you hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t come close, not with you being Kaz’s right hand,” Jesper pauses for a second, a smug smile appearing on his lips, “and his best friend.”
Their reaction is instantaneous; Kaz goes rigid at the words and a smirk takes over (Y/N)’s features.
Oh, if the night didn’t just suddenly get better.
She glances up at her best friend, only to find him already glaring daggers at Jesper, who shrugs helplessly and innocently says, “Just telling it like I heard it, boss.” The flicker of amusement in his eyes reveals that he’s very much aware of just how much ammunition he’s provided (Y/N) with.
(Y/N)’s smirk becomes wider and gains a teasing edge when Kaz looks down to meet her eyes. His eyes harden, explicitly telling her to not utter a single word. Sadly for him, she has never been one to follow the rules, and Kaz must notice she’s not about to obey because his face morphs slightly, just enough to show the most minimum amount of discomfort. He cringes just the tiniest bit, bracing himself.
He knows her too well.
“You hear that?” she asks him, tone light and filled with amusement, “We’re best friends!”
“We are not,” Kaz tenses his jaw as he replies. He backs away from her, as if creating physical space between them will somehow stop the words from leaving her mouth and making their way towards him. As if distance could make her less of an bother.
(Y/N) fake gasps, clutching the skin over her heart in the most dramatic manner, “You wound me deeply, Kazzy.”
Jesper snorts, coughing to try to drown the laughter. She might be the only one who doesn’t get a knife to the jugular when calling him that.
Kaz’s eyes snap toward the Sharpshooter and the look must be deadly because Jesper quiets down immediately and tries his best to evade the boss’s glare. Kaz’s gaze then shifts towards (Y/N) and she perks up at the way his eyes harden even further in annoyance. He’s told her a million times to drop that ‘ridiculously stupid’ nickname and she’s decided she never will, not when it drives him to this point of exasperation.
(She’s a thrill chaser, you see. That’s what happens when you’ve seen just about everything and lived twice as much; few things get your heart pumping. And getting on Kaz’s nerves? That’s always exciting. (Y/N) never knows what to expect of him. The Bastard of the Barrel is unpredictable in a way that’s just delightful.)
“If you call me that one more time—”
“What are you gonna do? You can’t possibly try to hurt me. Best friends don’t do that to each other,” she mocks.
His eyebrow twitches, her grin stretches.
Oh, she’s going to have a field day with this one.
It’s obvious that Kaz knows he’s not winning this discussion because he walks forward, snatches the revised contracts and makes his way back to where he came from.
“Get those done before tomorrow afternoon.”
Boring. She was expecting more banter.
(Y/N) turns around to watch him leave, unable to stop herself from throwing a sarcastic, “Sure thing, bestie.” She does her best to sweeten the last word in a way that she knows will infuriate Kaz.
He freezes.
Bingo.
Even from afar, (Y/N) can see the way he tightens the grip on his cane. She’s thoroughly disappointed when he doesn’t throw a dagger her way. That would’ve been exciting. He takes another route, one she should’ve seen coming.
“I’ve got seven more files that need to be corrected. Collect them when you’re done with those.”
The corner of her lips tugs upwards slightly. There’s something thrilling about playing this game with Kaz, of seeing how much one of them can push before the other yields. He’s skilled and she enjoys the competition.
She ignores his order, “Goodnight, Kazzy.”
He slams the door on his way out, the only visible sign that she managed to get on his nerves. That’s mildly entertaining. Causing even the slightest slip of Kaz’s control over his temper is a success in her books.
“You’re out of your mind,” Jesper informs her.
She raises her glass of whisky at him and winks.
And that’s how it begins, as a joke. (Y/N) refers to Kaz as her best friend on every given chance. His reactions never disappoint.
There’s a lot of death threats;
(“Don’t mind him, bestie here is always grumpy.”
Clenched jaw, an exasperated sigh. “I will murder you.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Kazzy.”
There’s a knife thrown her way. (Y/N) catches it with ease, whistling good-naturedly. She smirks when she catches the look of annoyance in Kaz’s face.)
and a lot of not so kind words thrown her way.
(“I get special best friend privileges, right?”
“You get tolerated,” Kaz mutters, “barely.”
“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Now tell me you love me.”
There’s that Brekker glare, one that would send anyone to an early grave. (Y/N) just smiles sweetly.
“Get out.”
“Whatever makes you happy, best friend.”
She cackles as she closes the door behind her, the curses Kaz is sending her way loud enough for her to hear.)
All in all, (Y/N) is as happy as can be. Having the time of her life, really. It’s not often that she finds something that makes Kaz fume. He plays the game too, of course. He has her going over financial documents and legal contracts on her free time, knowing just how much she hates the bureaucracy, and he gives her the household chores she despises the most. Still, (Y/N) doesn’t complain. She does everything with a smug smile on her face. The annoyance that flashes through Kaz’s face makes it all worth it.
The bracelet isn’t something she plans for, it really isn’t, but the Saints place the opportunity right in front of her and who is she but a mere mortal that must obey the signs evidently laid by otherworldly deities (or whatever bullshit those religious fanatics preach).
(Y/N) inspects the wristlets in her hand. They’re black and rough, made of broken-down nets that fishermen dispose of near the pier when the material has worn down beyond repair and is no longer useful. The little girl who had sold it to her couldn’t have been older than seven, and yet the design was more than decent. (Y/N) had offered three kruge for it, much more than it was worth. The child had looked delighted, had thanked her profusely as she’d placed the coins inside her worn-down shoes.
Oh, (Y/N) cannot wait to see Kaz’s face.
“What’s that?” Jesper asks as she meets up with him, eying the bracelets with a gleam of interest. He twirls his guns absentmindedly, missing the way some of the fishermen glance at him with distrust.
“Oh, you know, just some matching bracelets for me and my best friend.”
Jesper snickers, shaking his head and proceeding to let out a low whistle.
“This might be his breaking point.”
“Wouldn’t that be delightful.”
“You’re insane, Marbles.”
She gives him a wicked smile accompanied by a wink. She’s about to retort when she catches sight of a shadow on the corner of her eye. She recognizes it immediately as her target. Shopping, as fun as it had been, wasn’t the reason she and Jesper were waiting by the pier. They’ve got orders. She has people to torture and interrogate and dispose of— preferably in a quiet manner —and Jesper is Kaz’s way of making sure she’s got her back covered. (Not that she needs backup, but whatever, she has tried arguing with Kaz about it and it’s the one thing he won’t relent on, the one matter she’s accepted she won't ever win. Kaz doesn't play when it comes to her safety.).
“If you’re kind enough to hold these for me,” she places the bracelets on Jesper’s unoccupied hand, “I’ll be back before you know it.”
They make it back to the Slat before sunrise. (Y/N) had been quick and efficient, as she always was, and Jesper had been a quiet and solid shadow, as he always was.
“I assume it all went according to plan,” the Bastard asks when he hears their steps coming into his office. It’s late, or rather extremely early in the morning, and yet (Y/N) isn’t surprised by Kaz’s presence. He rarely sleeps.
“It went without a hitch, boss,” Jesper responds, resting against the doorframe.
(Y/N) hesitates for a split second, her memory providing a brief flashback to the interrogation she’d done, to three little words the man had let slip out: they’re coming for you.
A warning or maybe a promise.
Thrilling, either way. It wasn’t often that she was verbally threatened.
At the time, she’d dismissed the words, too filled with bloodlust to pay them any mind, but now, with a clear mind and a steady heartbeat, she suddenly remembers her face plastered on paper all over Ketterdam and wonders if the words might be related to the bounty on her head.
Oh, she hopes so. That would prove to be fun.
They’re coming for you. Good. Let them try.
She nods her head in agreement with Jesper’s words. Kaz nods in approval and then jerks his chin Jesper’s way, a clear sign of dismissal. The Sharpshooter never walks into Kaz’s office after missions like this. He’s an escort, a babysitter of sorts, merely Kaz’s way of making sure she heads his way instead of making a beeline for her bed.
(Y/N) sticks her tongue out at him and Jesper blows her a kiss in response.
Lucky bastard. It’s always her that has to stay up to report. And she hates to admit it, but she’s tired, she can feel the exhaustion begin to creep on her bones and settle in. She has been up for more than thirty-seven hours at this point, and she can feel it catching up to her. Still, she knows that Kaz prefers to hear details when the information is fresh on her mind, when she can provide as much detail as possible, so she pushes through for him. She just has to wait a little while longer before crawling into her bed and passing out for the next twelve hours.
“Marbles comes bearing gifts by the way,” is the last thing the Sharpshooters says before exiting.
A smirk takes over her features, sleep, exhaustion and the new information briefly forgotten.
Kaz is going to hate it.
Lovely.
Kaz seems to sense, probably by the wicked amusement on her face, that whatever it is it’s not something he’s going to enjoy. His face twists into a scowl.
“Out with it, then.”
She pulls out the dark bracelet from her pocket as she walks towards Kaz, dangling it in front of his face when she’s close enough.
Jesper had handed them back on the way home, tossing them over as soon as she’d wiped the blood off her hands. He hadn’t said a word, but (Y/N) knew that the action had meant to snap her out of the weird haze that clouded her mind after every mission, where adrenaline still coursed through her body and all she could think about was bloodshed, fingers itching to kill and maim and fight.
(It was a thing, the haze. When taking lives there was nothing but calmness and bloodthirst, the restlessness that always lingered beneath her skin subsiding as soon as a weapon was placed in her hand and orders were given. And as soon as the mission was done, as soon as the target was neutralized and she’d efficiently fulfilled her orders, fogginess followed. Her mind became clouded, as if somewhat trapped in a loop of violence, every nerve on edge and ready for any threat to emerge.
She was brought up as a killing machine, a child soldier, the best out of all the assassins produced by the Silent Blades, her father’s pride. She was ruthless, wretched, or at least those had been the words used to describe her when she’d been a child. She supposed the dissociative state she slipped into was normal when considering her upbringing, some sort of psychological shield that kept her from going insane.
She never spoke about it, but the Crows somehow knew. They often eased her out of it, knowing full well that when trapped in that state she had not an ounce of thought and only muscle memory to rely on, which made her infinitely more lethal.)
Jesper’s actions had worked like a charm. With something else to do with her hands, the fogginess had ruptured. She’d absentmindedly tied one of the bracelets on her own wrist, fingers playing with the edges of the other.
It’s that bracelet, the one on her arm, that Kaz glances at now. It’s brief, but for a split second the scowl etched on his face softens and something that she can’t quite catch passes through his eyes. It’s gone before (Y/N) can even begin to process it.
“Best friends have to have matching bracelets, don’t they?” And if she wonders about it later, she’ll blame it on the exhaustion, but the words come out softer than she intends them to. A jest, but not any less truthful.
Kaz’s face morphs and she gets a fleeting glimpse at that flicker in his eyes again. His scowl melts into something a tad bit gentler, the look contrasted by the aggressiveness with which he snatches the bracelet from her hand, “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He means that and his tone has enough bite to make her cackle.
Amusing.
Placing her hands on her back pockets and shrugging, she responds, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Kaz snorts, “Go take a bath.” He dismisses her, turning around and making his way to his desk, “Reports can wait until you don’t look half dead.”
That’s unexpected.
(Y/N) raises her eyebrows, “You’re being nice.” It isn’t often that Kaz forgoes a report after a mission. He might’ve been more touched by the gift than he’s letting on.
“It’s for my own sake,” he retorts, not turning around, “you just stink and it’s making me nauseous.”
She does have a lingering smell of blood and sea water.
“Everything in this damned place stinks,” she responds. I know you’re lying, she’s saying, I know you’re being kind.
“Get out.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” (Y/N) mocks, walking out of his office.
She sleeps a full day after that, everyone knowing better than to bother her unless they want to lose to their head, and when she reports to Kaz the next morning the three words she’d heard from the man slip her mind. (Y/N) doesn’t remember them until a few weeks later when she’s tied to the ceiling by her wrists, face bleeding.
Now, she must admit, she’s impressed. No one had ever tried kidnapping before. There’d been more attempts on her life than she could even count; stabs resulting in blood being shed, never one drop of hers, poison that she had either swallowed down like a champ or identified before a single lick of it touched her tongue, because being raised an assassin meant she’d been trained in the art of toxins and she’d built up tolerance to pretty much every substance in existence, and that one time they’d tried to shot at her, which only resulted in (Y/N) stealing Jesper’s gun and placing a bullet right between the perpetrator’s eyebrows. All in good fun. Kidnapping was new, but only because those who had attempted on her life had never tried joining forces, all of them wishing to keep the financial reward for themselves.
Torturing, that was new, too.
She could endure, of course she could, she’d been trained for this. That did not mean she’d missed it.
The poster had stated she was wanted dead or alive and it was clear that the man in front of her wanted to take his time. It was personal, she could tell by the brunt of his hits and the delicate precision of his cuts. Had she been anyone else, she would’ve been begging for it to stop, but (Y/N) was a Silent Blade, even if she’d left the organization and that life behind, and she would never break.
The only reason she was in this situation was because the assailants had gotten the upper hand. They’d used one of (Y/N)’s street urchins— a little girl with piggy tails and two missing teeth, one of the ones who gathered information for (Y/N) and traded it for food and shelter —as leverage. And time had apparently made her soft because she’d hesitated. The brief second of doubt had been everything they’d needed.
Them subduing her didn’t mean she’d gone down without a fight. There’d been five of them in the beginning. Only three remained. She’d plucked one guy’s eye out, going deep enough to sever the optic nerve and cause brain damage, and she’d ripped the other’s ear with her teeth before slitting his throat. She’d managed to stab one of the three men remaining with a dagger before being injected with some unknown serum. It hadn’t knocked her out, not the way it was supposed to if the incredulous look on her kidnapper’s face was any indication, but it had drugged her enough to allow them to overpower her.
And now here she was, slowly bleeding out.
“I intent on handing your corpse to them and claiming the reward.” He’s been quiet for so long that (Y/N) had almost forgotten his presence. She doesn’t raise her head, only looks up. It’s hard to do so when her right eye is swollen shut. “But they never specified the conditions it had to be in.”
The man has his back towards her, fingers running through a box of tools. He’s used almost all of them on her by this point. Amateur. A skilled torturer knows to go slow, to drag it out, to choose a weapon and stick to it until the person is weeping and screaming.
“It was my brother that you killed.”
That sparks her interest, a smirk taking over her bloodied lips. She looks at him, dead in the eye.
“Which one?” she taunts.
The sound of her voice, still strong despite the blood loss, startles him. He freezes for a split second, hand over a wooden baseball bat.
“What?”
She snickers, blood dripping into the floor. “I’ve killed a lot of men, darling.” The way he seethes, fury filling his features, amuses her. “So which one was your brother?”
“You had him swallow his own testicles.”
“Oh, him,” she nods her head in appreciation. “Can’t say I regret it.”
Now he’s fuming, hand shaking so badly he almost loses the grip on the bat. If (Y/N) looks close enough she can see the resemblance. Same brown hair, same nose, same crazy look in their eyes.
“I’ll make you regret it.”
“You can certainly try,” she concedes mockingly. Because, honestly, there’s nothing he can do to her that she hasn’t already withstood.
There’s a raging roar and then a burst of pain. A hit to her abdomen, which no doubt bruised a rib, and then two to her back. But it’s okay, she thinks to herself as she wheezes and coughs, trying to regain air in her lungs, she knows how to play this game and how to win it. Keep him talking, keep him angry, let him think he has the upper hand, keep him from noticing how she’s preparing to break free.
“I wonder…” he murmurs, bat dragging behind him. “You’re not particularly remarkable.” She scoffs as he begins circling her, a tactic supposed to drive the prisoner into panic at the lack of vision of their assailant. Her heart doesn’t stutter. She’s trained to identify people and objects by sound not sight. She knows precisely where he is, even if she can’t see him. “So, what makes you interesting enough for the Bastard to keep so close?”
She grins, feral and with bloodstained teeth.
“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”
His face does not change but his step falters. “You cannot believe me stupid enough to fall for that.”
“You were stupid enough to tie my wrists with handcuffs,” is all she replies before dislocating her own thumbs and releasing herself from the shackles.
She hits the floor hard, body swaying for a second. Her hands are numb, nerve endings frayed. It hits her, now that she has to keep herself upright, just how much blood she’s lost. The edges of her vision blur.
There’s a cut on her thigh, it bleeds heavily. Her back is all flayed skin. Breathing is hard.
It doesn’t matter. She only needs four fingers and half a mind to hold and use a dagger. She shakes the dizziness off.
He comes at her, but she’s expecting that. Sidestepping him is easy, kicking him in the back as he passes by even more so.
“You’re not much without your friends and a syringe full of drugs, are you?” she stumbles a little as she taunts him. Time is not on her side, she knows this. He’s cut deep in her arms and legs, no major artery touched, but with precision to give her a slow and prolonged death. She’s been steadily bleeding for hours.
(Y/N) has to end this. Soon.
He comes for her again, and she dodges, punching him right in the gut. He feigns left and she moves away, noticing too late the fist that impacts with the right side of her face. Despite the pain, she manages to stomp his toes and slam her knee against his balls.
That does it.
A high whimper leaves his mouth and as he struggles for air, she backs up. Keeping her eyes on him, her right arm reaches back to the toolbox. She knows what she’s grasped as soon as her fingers graze it.
“Say hi to your brother for me.”
The scalpel lodges itself right on his carotid artery.
“Nice,” she mumbles in delirium as she hears him choke to death. It’d been a majestic throw.
The adrenaline is gone in a second. (Y/N) stumbles backwards, barely aware of all the tools scattering around in the floor. She lets herself rest against the wall, slowly sitting down on the floor.
She’s going to die.
It doesn’t matter that she’s managed to get rid of that poor excuse of a man. She’s too injured. She knows.
(Y/N) isn’t scared. She’s tangled with Death for a long time, and as cold begins to creep in and the edges of her vision blacken, it feels like welcoming an old friend. It feels like getting what she has always had coming for her.
The tips of her fingers begin to tingle, her body’s desperate effort at keeping her heart pumping. Her ears are ringing, hard enough that when shouts begin all that she can hear are muffled sounds.
Then someone’s touching her face. She greets the warmth.
“Fuck,” she hears as she tumbles forward, her forehead landing on a collarbone. Jesper grasps the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. At least, she thinks it’s him. Her brain feels mushy, but her nose has never failed her, and it smells like gunpowder and mint.
She’s laid down on the ground gently, probably to inspect her injuries before moving her.
“You’re going to be okay,” the Sharpshooter reassures her, but his voice is trembling. He’s scared. She must look worse than she feels, and she feels like she’s been attacked by a group of Heartrenders.
She wants to speak, to tell him it’s okay, but opening her mouth feels like an impossible task.
“Save your energy.” That’s Kaz. His voice is steady, but she can feel the underlying tension, the worry in his words. “You are not dying tonight.” And he says it with so much conviction, like he would hold her soul with his own hands to keep it anchored to her body, like he would keep her heart beating with pure willpower.
Her eyes look for him, but she catches sight of something else entirely.
“You’re wearing it.”
She must make no sense, words slurred, but Kaz understands. His whispered words are the last thing she hears before slipping out of consciousness.
“How couldn’t I?”
Then there’s nothing. She loses track of time. She comes back to her body from time to time, able to hear words but incapable of pinpointing the speaker. She’s floating, but there’s pain and aching.
“…too much blood, I don’t know…”
“…keep her alive.”
“I am trying!”
“Don’t try, do it.”
“…punctured lung, broken ribs…”
“…don’t know how she’s still alive.”
When she comes to the first thing that she feels is blinding pain. Everything hurts. Her muscles complain as she sits up. She clenches her jaw to keep the tears at bay. The worst is already over, she will not cry.
“Don’t move,” (Y/N) freezes at the command, her head snapping towards the voice. “Nina stitched you back together, I doubt she would be very happy to see all her hard work ruined.”
She gently eases herself back on the bed, fingertips running over her bandaged stomach. She can feel the edges of the stitches poking through it. It must’ve been bad, then, if she required stitches to keep the wound together. Usually, she’s a fast healer, a result of all the training she’d gone through.
“How long?” Her voice is raspy after not being used. Her throat hurts, which might be related to the way she was choked to the verge of unconsciousness several times while held hostage.
“Four nights.”
Bad then.
(Y/N) can feel Kaz’s eyes on her, assessing. She meets his stare, and it’s when she’s looking at him that a vague memory comes back.
Her eyes drift down to his wrist.
The twin bracelet to her own, the one she keeps tightly wrapped around her wrist, as if part of her own skin, greets her.
“You are wearing it.”
Kaz frowns in confusion, until he follows her line of sight. He looks away, hand clenching and unclenching over the head of his cane.
“Even after almost dying you’re still insufferable,” he responds.
But when he looks back at her, (Y/N) can see everything in his eyes.
How could I not, he’d said, and he’d meant it. If friendship was something that could bloom in a wretched place like Ketterdam, Kaz was her best friend and she was his, even if they’d never discussed it, even if they would never admit it. You’re the steady order to my unrelenting chaos, she thought to herself, someone I would follow to the end of the world.
He nods, as if reading her mind and agreeing with her.
“Rest.” That’s an order, one she has no intention of disobeying.
“Sure thing,” she responds as Kaz makes his way towards the door, “bestie.”
(Y/N) can feel the amusement in his words, “Absolutely insufferable.”
She smirks, toying with the ends of the bracelet’s strings.
(Y/N) never takes it off. Neither does Kaz.
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