#like inej and nina's relationship inej and jesper's kaz and jespers' kaz and wylans' matthias and kazs' EVERYONE HAS THEIR DYNAMICS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theowritesstuff · 2 years

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Everything

Kaz Brekker x gn!healer!reader

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

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

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

Request a prompt with one of my characters!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in.” He grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can’t bear the thought of losing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only you knew how wrong you had been.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re awake.” He says.

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

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

“I know.”

You furrow your brows. “You know?”

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

“Stay.”

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

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

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

“Were you?”

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

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

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

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

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

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader

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reve-writes · 2 years

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—bejeweled; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,2k words. ʚ from this ask. | dating kaz brekker, and he gifts you jewelry as trinkets like the crow he is. ʚ established relationship; crow club drinking. ʚ a/n i love this idea so much! i'm sorry if it's rushed or slightly off. thank you for reading!

It started out small. Kaz had a ring he looped through a silver rolo chain necklace that he wore, tucked under his shirt, until one day it wasn't there anymore. The ring was a simple silver thin band with the letter R carved into the inside of it. It was a barely noticeable part of his get up, but Inej, the sharp-eyed wraith, noticed the lack of shining silver chain under his collar.

“Did you lose your necklace?” Inej asked, settling into the barstool next to him in the Crow Club. Kaz looked up from his glass, acknowledging her with a brief glance from under his hat.

“No,” he replied, not elaborating any further. Kaz Brekker couldn't help the way his eyes fall onto you as you sat at one of the tables with Jesper and Wylan. You laughed, throwing down your hand of five cards victoriously. His eyes caught the glimpse of silver around your left middle finger. A ring. His ring.

An involuntary smile crept onto his lips. It vanished within a second, as if it had never been there in the first place.

You turned your head, catching his stare before you sauntered over towards him. Kaz didn't say a word, turning to the back door of the club that led to a mostly deserted alley, hoping you would get the hint to trail after him.

The door clicked shut behind him, but not three seconds passed, it swung open again. You stood there, grinning smugly towards him.

“If I didn't know any better, I might start thinking that you missed me,” you said, brushing some lint off of his collar.

His gloved hand caught yours, holding it in place as you tilted your head to look at him. “I thought it was the other way around.”

He smoothed out your palm, pressing the back of your hand to his lips briefly. When he pulled away, he was twirling the ring around your finger. It was intimate—the ring was his and it was on you. You were his, as scary as the thought was to him, he liked it just as much.

Next, it was an ankle bracelet. A small little thing, usually tucked safely inside the neck of your boots. Then, eventually he started bringing whatever jewelry he found his hands on.

Your last job was for a painting—expensive, six digits in Kruge, and it went mostly smooth-sailing, other than a couple of close calls. Everyone was safe, celebrating at the Crow Club. Drinking, dancing and laughing like there was no tomorrow. The ever-brooding Dirtyhands seemed to be in a lighter mood as well.

You danced to the music, trotting towards the Bar for a refill. His eyes trailed after you, trying to catch your glance. When he locked eyes with you, his head tilted slightly to the back door. His gloved hand definitely pulled another card from his sleeves and he revealed his hand on the gambling table. Sly cheater.

Jesper groaned loudly. “Kaz wins? Again?!”

Nina laughed merrily, leaning on Matthias' shoulder as she shuffled the deck again.

Kaz stood up as you were already closing the door behind you.

“I need a drink,” said Kaz. The rest of the table did not question him as they were already starting another round, this time with Wylan as a challenger.

Kaz was out the door in seconds.

“Seems our rendezvous is compromised, Brekker,” you said when the door clicked shut behind him. You gestured to a drunken man, passed out by the door, snoring loudly.

His nose scrunched up in disgust, noticing the putrid smell of alcohol and puke. “I wanted to give you this.”

Like a magician, he pulled a string of chain necklace out of thin air. Kaz and his sleight of hand was something you found extremely endearing.

“You took it from the house.” Your eyes widened, noticing the intricately-shaped charm of the necklace. It was the silhouette of a crow. You mentioned it to him in passing as you looked around the room where you were taking the painting from.

“It's yours.”

You let him hook the necklace around your neck, noticing the way his fingers brushed against your nape longer than it should have.

“Thank you, Kaz,” you muttered, taking his hand with both of yours, pressing it to the side of your face. You leaned into the leather, closing your eyes.

The next time it was more noticable, a bright ruby ring, occupying your pointer finger. It was a small band, but the red stood out extremely against the silver. Your last job was at a pawn shop that belonged to a swindler that you were paid to intimidate into returning the money they had scammed out of your client. As part of it, you were to conduct a robbery of sorts. You were allowed to keep your loot on top of your payment. It was an easy deal to take.

You arrived at the shop just a bell past midnight. Jesper had already snatched a couple of vintage cufflinks for himself. Inej didn't mind swiping a knife or two from the extensive collection. Wylan was fixated on a small, bronze clock. Matthias was shifting through fur jackets being hanged by the door.

Nina gasped when she opened the box of jewelry. It was filled with various stones on different ring bands. There was a mix of earrings, necklaces and bracelets, too, but everyone was eyeing the ruby. It was practically shining.

“That is stunning,” said Jesper, already moving to grab it from Nina's grasp.

Before Jesper could take it, Kaz's gloved fingers closed over it. He tucked it into the pocket of his vest. “That is mine.”

Everyone let out a noise of disagreement, but relented anyway. However, it created quite the scandal when you headed down for breakfast and the ring was adorning your ring finger.

Wylan was the first to notice the bright red stone. His jaw dropped, trailing after the clueless you, who was almost on auto-pilot as you buttered a piece of bread and bit into it.

Wylan tugged on Jesper's hand, pointing at your finger. Jesper let out a conspiratory gasp, which alerted Nina and Matthias. Inej, who was blowing on her cup of tea, looked up as well. Kaz was nowhere to be seen yet.

“Morning, everyone,” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep off of your eyes. You were taken aback by everyone's bewildered reaction. “Are you okay? Is there something wrong with me?”

Self-consciously, you started smoothing out your hair and tugged on the collar of your shirt.

“Oh, you're fine,” Jesper said. “We just can't help but be curious of the ring.”

In your sleepy haze, you shrugged. “A gift from Kaz.”

As if on cue, Kaz walked down the stairs. Everyone's gaze turned on him simultaneously.

“He gifted it to you?” Asked Matthias, tilting his head inquisitively.

Kaz, with his usual scowl, asked back, “What are you all on about?”

“Everything made sense!” yelled Nina. “Matthias, I told you about the changes in Kaz's heartrate—”

“—or the way he sometimes disappears—” said Wylan.

Jesper chided in, “—and he's never cared for jewelry before, but lately he's been taking souvenirs back—”

“—and he's been giving them to ___,” concluded Inej.

“Well done,” said Kaz uninterestedly. “Astute observations.”

He brushed past you, taking a bite out of your buttered bread as he did. “Good morning.”

It was safe to say that the rest of the day was filled with inquiries by everyone else. Kaz wanted no part in it, leaving you to deal with the barrage of questions from how and when and all the sorts. You swore you'd have a couple of words for Kaz by the end of the day.

[ ]

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #—ki writes 🍯

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iambicpentameterhamster · 1 month

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Six of crows relationship headcanons

Inej + Kaz:

-Know each other so well it's like telepathic communication. Anticipate each other's needs and a lot between them goes unspoken.

-Level-headed power couple working stuff out while everybody panics and runs around like headless chickens.

-They argue like Captain Holt and Kevin in B99.

-Best drivers and are both amazing cooks.

-Their home is covered in loose paper and books but the kitchen is spotless. Externally, they have their shit together, internally could not be more chaotic. They hold each other together.

Wylan + Jesper:

-Either of them driving with the other in the passenger seat is the recepie for disaster.

-Wylan takes milk with a splash of coffee and Jesper loads his coffee with too much sugar than is humanly reasonable.

-Equally incompetent in different ways. Example, there's a fire: Jesper throws stuff at it, including the fire extinguisher, Wylan attempts to calculate the exact angle at which to attack the fire while himself refusing to approach it.

-Always going on bar crawls together and terrorizing Ketterdam. Show each other off to people and are relentlessly proud of each other.

-Reluctantly soppy.

Nina + Matthias:

-SO MUCH PDA. LIKE AN UNREASONABLE AMOUNT OF PDA. MAKING PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE IN PUBLIC PDA.

-Matthias will regularly proclaim his love, will go on 20 minute speeches packed with metaphors, poetic musings, and his undying loyalty to Nina. Insufferable to everyone else but Nina finds it too cute to tell him to stop.

-Nina helps Matthias with social interaction. He's either weirdly intense, or silent and doesn't know what to say.

-Matthias prevents Nina from becoming homicidal.

-Soap opera level arguments followed by crying and making out.

#six of crows #grishaverse #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #wylan hendriks #matthias helvar #wesper #kanej #helnik

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swiftiepanini · 4 months

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the crows' favorite book genres

kaz: mystery. horror just kind of bores him but mysteries are fun to solve and he gets super frustrated when the ending is predictable

inej: historical fiction or romance. historical fiction helps her understand what people had to go through from the pov of an ordinary person and she loves romances that are angsty and emotional. girl likes her books to be moving

matthias: usually nonfiction shit because he was raised to believe fiction is useless but bc of nina he's getting more into it. reads mostly realistic fiction

nina: 💖romance💖 all day all night. she'll read cute romances, trashy romances, emotional romances, whatever. matthias makes fun of her for it and she'll rant to him about her books

wylan: obviously doesn't read so he listens to audiobooks. his favorite genre is fantasy because ✨escapism✨ but he also likes dystopian books because they're cool and horrifying to think about

jesper: doesn't read that much but if wylan says a book is really good he'll try to read it. he and wylan will get into arguments because he'll watch the movie and say it's better but wylan argues that it is NOTHING compared to the books so the rest of the crows watch as they have potentially relationship-ending drama over harry potter book vs. movie

#these are just my opinions #if you have other ideas please tell me #wow this ended up being really long #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar

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i-love-soc-a-very-normal-amount · 7 months

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Reasons to read Six of Crows

1. Actually good representation

- all the crows have ptsd of some sort that actually affect their actions

- religion also affects their actions (eg. Inej with her saints and unwilling to kill, Matthias with djel)

- Jesper and inej are darker skinned

- wylan is gay and jesper and Nina are bi

- wylan has dyslexia that he's really ashamed of because of his father(and when he told Kaz he(Kaz) literally just shrugged!!)

- Kaz is physically disabled (his leg) and needs to use a cane

2. Nina is canonically thick and curvy but is still described as beautiful and badass

3. Again with Nina

- she does eat more than the other crows and they don't judge her for it

- when she starts to eat less bc of parem her friends panic and try to get her to eat more

- and when she starts eating again they're so fucking happy

4. All the crows have their own horrible backstory and yet none of them have ever been in a toxic relationship

5. The boundaries that characters set are actually respected (eg. Kaz with his gloves and no-touch rule)

6. It's so funny ("My ghost won't associate with your ghost", "I'm going to get someone to burn my kruge for me / you could pay someone to pay someone to burn your kruge / I'll pay someone to pay someone to pay someone to burn my kruge / you know what the really big bosses do? They pay someone to pay someone...", "MAYBE I LIKED YOUR STUPID FACE" among other examples)

7. There are such impactful and beautiful quotes ("I would come for you", "I have been made to protect you" etc)

9. To elaborate with the 'horrible backstory' thing

- Inej is a victim of sex trafficking

- Wylan was nearly murdered by his father's men for not being able to read

- Matthias was brainwashed from a young age to hate Grisha

- Nina (and other Grisha) were kidnapped and abused by Matthias and his fellow drüskelle

- Jesper's mum died when he was 7 years old

- Kaz's dad died when Kaz was 9 and left him and his older brother (Jordie) to sell the farm and go to Ketterdam. Jordie died from a plague a short time later and Kaz had to use Jordie's dead, plague-ridden body to swim to shore after being mistaken as dead and loaded onto the Reapers' Barge along with Jordie and then find a way to survive with no money and no family to go to

#its just an amazing story in general #it changed my life for the better #that may be a bit of an exaggeration but who cares #ill add to this when i remember other bits #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #soc #ck #gv #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #idkwhattoputhere123

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19burstraat · 6 months

Text

unbelievably specific modern things the crows would love. too bad they live in a late-1800s fantasy world

Kaz: screenshotting nfts, those web weaving posts about dog metaphors, leaving people on read, stealing from the self checkout in supermarkets, emo phases, wearing headphones but not actually listening to anything so they're just there just as a conversation deterrent, winding up scam callers, escape rooms, pretending to know nothing about pop culture in order to annoy people, playing solitaire online, Knowing A Guy for everything

Inej: social media sleuthing, posting goodreads quotes, strictly come dancing, snoopy, easily accessible climbing shoes, mr darcy, shouting at the screen when someone's judged incorrectly on a competition show, getting unbelievably competitive about wii sports/duolingo scoreboards/goodreads goals/animal crossing islands/air hockey, texting..... With loads of elipses... Like your parents.... and dropping unprompted wisdom in them.....

Jesper: neon clothes, the 💯 emoji, making everyone as miis on tomodachi life but being so bad at it that kaz and nina's miis end up getting married, lisa frank art, scamming people on depop, cheap jewellery that makes you go green, complaining about how cottagecore videos don't correctly represent the Rural Farm Life, shitty 2000s club bangers, the kitsch movement, giving your car a name, hoiking your novelty socks really high so everyone can see them, shitty christmas films, first person shooters

Wylan: speedpaint videos, joe hisaishi, being judgemental about other people's spotify wrappeds, djungelskog, that gif of the japanese mascot costume running through a bunch of explosions, watching weird low-budget adaptations of shakespeare plays with kaz, those arcade crane games, piercing your own ears with a needle and a lighter then being somehow surprised when it gets infected

Matthias: making an instagram account in-character for your dog, posting low-quality graphics of inspirational or biblical quotes on facebook (yk the ones w the landscape or sunset behind them), taking frowning selfies from below like your granddad does, viking media of any sort, buying dozens of identical t-shirts from big tesco, mixing up celebrities all the time, perpetually caving and giving the scouts/guides/youth groups/football clubs/carollers/etc money for their fundraisers

Nina: making bait posts online in the style of 'why can't we just print more money', period dramas, wearing huge mother of the bride style hats to weddings, saving recipes/crafts/art ideas on tiktok and then never actually doing them, pink gin, tiktok edits of fit celebs/characters, 3 hour video essays abt pop culture, saying 'break up with him' in response to every relationship woe, buying cheerful tat from flying tiger

#the reason I say mr darcy is bc he's a big bitch who does grand gestures at the eleventh hour and Works To Deserve Her. familiar no?#six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc #grishaverse #my post #long post

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amsgrey · 1 year

Text

he just sounds like that

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader (established relationship)

synopsis: Arrogance has no place on a job, but you let it lower your guard. You pay the price, but Kaz helps bring you back.

I kind of like merging Book/Show Kaz and trying to keep accurate to his mannerisms and humour etc so hopefully this is good. I came about this idea after thinking about this scene from TLOU and how Kaz most definitely had an asshole voice. Also, I will probably make a few parts/drabbles about Kaz x Inferni Reader, because I love Kaz no apologies.

Warnings: Mentions of Slavery, reader reliving her time as a slave (briefly), Mentions of scars of wrists from slavery chains etc, A fumbley understanding of the technology of the time and inferni powers (it's been so long since I read the books)

Getting split from the other crows was distressing, but there was nothing you could do about that now. You and Kaz just had to keep going, trying to work your way back to the rendezvous point.

"Tell me again why you thought this would work," You hissed to Kaz, who had been leading you in a circle for what felt like forever.

Kaz gave you an irritated glare, "It did work."

You scoffed, "Yeah, that's why we're lost in this saints forsaken mansion."

Kaz let out an exasperated sigh, "Are you done?"

You and Kaz had known each other for years, the entire time you'd known each other you bantered like this. Kaz would act all irritated and stern, but you knew he silently liked the way you could relieve tension and make even him crack a smile. As the only two Crows born and raised in the farmlands of Kerch, you shared a different connection. You had found each other before The Barrel knew Kaz as the force he was now. Kaz had saved you from Slavers and convinced you to join the Dregs, helping you find a life without fear.

Since then, you followed him through everything, which at this current moment, meant even through the merchant's maze of a mansion. Nina, Matthias and Wylan were somewhere outside, waiting for you, Kaz, Inej and Jesper to get what you were after and meet them. You wondered if they would be growing impatient yet, you were late, which almost never happened on a job with Kaz.

The job had started off as most others, breaking in was always the easy part. You had been privy to Kaz's plans, watching him study a map of the mansion for weeks before he committed to the job. He knew the place like the back of his hand, but he didn't know the extent of the new security measures the merch had introduced.

You and Jesper dawdled behind Inej and Kaz as they led the group through the halls. Occasionally Jesper would pause at a painting or display piece and make comments about its ugliness or stupidity.

The last painting he'd criticized was of an older man, dressed in a bright blue kefta with red embroidery. Jesper had caught your sleeve and pointed it out to you, "Looks like the merch has inferni ancestor."

You had screwed your nose up at the portrait, "I thought he was Kaelish?"

"He is," Kaz said, already at the end of the hall with Inej. He was waiting for the two of you to catch up, like a boy calling his dogs home.

Walking through the mansion felt surreal, mostly because you hadn't been to many places with such decadent displays of wealth. The four of you could move through the hallways unnoticed because the Merch and his family were out at the theatre - or whatever it was rich people did in Ketterdam on Sunday Nights. He had brought most of his guards and men with him, leaving the halls silent and unpatrolled. Kaz had called him an arrogant fool, to declare his mansion impenetrable and then take all his men out to prove it. There was no place able to keep out Dirtyhands, especially not when he had his crows by his side.

Thinking back on it you realized how you all had been too arrogant, thinking this job was in and out, easy. You'd let your guard down - something Kaz warned you to never do in this city - and now you were paying the price.

Everything went wrong when you and Kaz finally found what you were looking for - the merch's family jewel, a sapphire embedded in rich Kealish gold. You had easily broken through the fabrikator-made lock, it might have been made by a Grisha but it couldn't hold up against a Grisha. Especially not one who could melt metal with the same ease as cutting pastry. Kaz had reached for the jewels, as soon as he lifted it off the display the room filled with an ominous hum. Like the sound of a machine slowly whirring to life.

Kaz had pocketed the jewels, grabbing your forearm and tugging you along behind him as he went for the door Jesper and Inej were guarding. Before you could make it metal bars slid down over the doorway. You had tried to use your small science to melt the metal, even Jesper tried to budge it, but nothing worked. Kaz ordered Inej and Jesper to find their own way out as alarms chimed, directing you back through the room to another exit.

You had followed behind him willingly, knowing he knew the way around the mansion. You'd been irritated to learn how wrong you were, Kaz knew the layout of the mansion but the Merch had updated the floorplan. Clearly, another Fabrikator addition to hinder thieves.

"Wait," Kaz held up his hand and you barrelled straight into his back at the sudden halt, "Do you hear that?"

Footsteps.

"Back," Kaz whispered, ushering you back the way you had come.

You got to the end of the hall before you heard more bodies approaching, you were surrounded. Immediately you went to the window, trying to pull at the latch and open it. It didn't work, but you could see light dancing on the tree line.

"Kaz," You called, "Look."

You both squinted into the dark, trying to distinguish who it was in the woods. You saw the glint of steel, like someone was spinning a revolver.

"It's Jesper."

The footsteps were getting louder, there was no way you and Kaz could get out of this on your own.

"Step back," You struck your flint, the sparks allowing you to create a ball of flame. You concentrated it as small as it would allow, pressing your palms against the window until cracks started forming. After a few more seconds the pane shattered, sending the shards falling to the ground below. You were on the second floor, even if you wanted to jump there was no way you and Kaz would be able to land safely. You settled for sending up a burst of flames, Jesper and the others would be on the lookout for it, your SOS symbol.

"Stop!" Someone shouted and all hell broke loose.

You and Kaz fought well side by side, you both knew each other's moves, working in tandem to take down opponents. It looked like you might win for a little while, then a woman rounded the corner with her hands pressed together. Heartrender, you realized it too late.

You were woken suddenly, like your heart was all of a sudden coming back to life. You gasped and spluttered, lungs burning. Your hands were bound above your head, separated by a thick metal rod so that you couldn't summon. Already you could feel the ache in your shoulders, hanging from your arms was something you had been used to when you were a slave. Now, you had to fight back the panic that tried to grip your heart.

You struggled to find your footing for a moment, but eventually managed to stand up enough to take the strain off of your wrists.

Kaz.

Where was Kaz?

"Look, Brekker. Your girls fine."

You squinted to find where the voice was coming from, finding the source across the room. Kaz was standing opposite a burly man nearly a foot taller than him. Kaz's face was bloody and bruised, but he had murder in his eyes. You could see it, feel it, all the way across the room. You realized it wasn't just Kaz and the merchant; the other crows were there too. Inej held a blade against the heartrenders throat from earlier, who had both her hands held far apart to show her cooperation. Jesper was not too far away, his pistols in hand as he stared down a man who stood in between you and him.

What did I miss?

"No harm was done," The merchant continued, his voice thick with a Kaelish accent, "What do you say we part ways, unharmed."

Kaz's face didn't change, "Sure."

The Merchant frowned, a glimpse of fear breaking through his resolve, "I don't like your tone, boy."

"He always sounds like that," Jesper joked, glancing at you.

"He has an asshole voice," You agreed. Not two nights ago you and Jesper had been saying the same thing to Matthias at the Slat. You and Jesper enjoyed teasing the Fjerdan, especially regarding Kaz and his 'demjin' ways.

Kaz looked amused, he had the Merchant in the palm of his hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."

The Merchant almost tripped as he ran away, not even stopping for his Heartrender and right-hand man who followed behind him just as quick.

With the immediate threat gone, you felt your resolve begin to crumble. You had to get out of these chains. They would rub your wrists every time you moved, bringing you straight back to your past.

"Stop moving," An older woman had warned you, "It hurts less."

She was probably right, but you were too terrified to listen. Hours ago you were playing on your family's farm, but now you were chained to the roof in a dark, damp cellar. The chains were rusted and coarse, they rubbed the skin around your wrists raw, leaving cuts and grazes everywhere they pressed.

You were only eight, by far the youngest of all the slaves in the cellar. The chains they used to bind you didn't have cuffs, the slavers had just looped the links around your wrists and locked them tight. All you felt was the pain and the fear. All of this because you were Grisha? You only just learned of your power as an Inferni, how could you be worth anything?

The older woman tried to console you, doing her best to quell your tears and sobs, but even she knew the horrors that awaited you. The horrors you would spend years fighting to escape.

"Y/N," Kaz's voice was soft, he stood in front of you, supporting your weight as Jesper worked on freeing your hands from the chains. "Stay here."

You knew he was trying, you could see his own emotions clawing at him. It was one of the things that bound you and Kaz together, the demons of your past. You understood what it was like to fear touch and he understood what it was like to be betrayed. You helped each other, through the flashbacks and nightmares. You two didn't have anyone else, so you fought to have each other.

When Jesper finally broke through the chains, you lurched forward unexpectedly. Kaz held you tighter, trying to keep you upright even with his bad leg. You stood up, holding your hands out to balance yourself.

'I'm okay," You lied, trying to avoid Jesper and Inej's worried glances, "We should get out of here."

Back at the Slat, you sat staring at your cup of cocoa. Nina had made it for you as her way of trying to help, she could hear that your heartbeat hadn't stopped racing since leaving the job.

Jesper and Wylan had offered you gentle conversation, but you couldn't hold it for long. You had claimed you were tired, bidding your friends goodnight and climbing the stairs to your room. You didn't stop at your floor. Your feet carried you further up the steep stairs, stopping when you reached the attic which Kaz had converted into his own room. You didn't have to knock, you just opened the door and announced yourself.

Behind closed doors, Kaz was less concerned about keeping up his Dirtyhands persona. He smiled ever so slightly as you sat on his bed. A few months ago you had forced him to rearrange his room so that you could see him working while you lounged on his bed. You often ended up like this, watching him work after long days and taking comfort in each other's presence.

This time, Kaz wasn't concerned with his papers, he just looked at you, waiting for you to talk. You had talked Kaz through his own episodes many times, you never pushed him or asked him to move quicker than he was ready. For the first time, Kaz wanted to offer you the same comfort, but he wasn't sure if he could.

You were rubbing your wrists, stuck in your own memories of your time chained.

Kaz slowly joined you, giving you time to pull away. You glanced over at him, watching him as he slowly removed his gloves.

"Kaz-"

Kaz shook his head to silence you, continuing what he was doing. He placed his gloves neatly on the bedside table, turning to you. He reached out slowly and you let him. He gently pried your fingers away from your wrist, taking your hands in his own. He turned your palms up, his fingers slowly ghosting over the scars on your skin.

Kaz could feel the warmth of your skin through his fingertips. It helped him fight off the flashbacks, the warmth reminding him you were safe, healthy, alive.

Kaz's fingers traced over a scar on your right thumb. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips.

Kaz's head snapped up to look at you, fear filling his eyes.

"I'm okay," You meant it this time. The flashbacks were gone, locked in the vault in the back of your mind.

Kaz could tell that you meant it, see the anxiety leave your face. He drew his hands back, reaching for his gloves again. You smiled at him as he slipped his hands back into them, the leather bringing him the comfort he needed.

Kaz offered you a quiet apology.

"Kaz," You couldn't help the adoring smile on your face, "It's okay."

You knew Kaz could handle contact more when his gloves were on, so you gently took his hand. Kaz watched as you copied his movements from earlier, gently opening up his fingers. You slowly raised his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I love you," You said, "Gloves and all."

Kaz smiled, a genuine smile that you only saw in the safety of these four walls.

He let out a quiet reply, "I love you too."

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happynowyo · 1 year

Text

Stubbornness

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

Warnings: mentions of traumas and touch aversion, Reader being a Healer

A/n: so here's the thing I wanted something angsty and smutty but could come up only with the first part tonight so I'll do another hot part in a few days to finish this completely.

Word count: 2,1k

Part 2

— I don't need that, — the confident tone cut through the silence like a sharp knife, sending shivers down your spine for a second.

You might have believed it if you hadn't personally witnessed a couple of Dime Lions beating Kaz with such zeal that the crunch of his broken ribs was clearly audible in the empty valley.

So you continued to worry about him without listening to what was said. You paid far more attention to the quiet sighs Kaz let out with each step, leaning harder and harder on his bad leg, as you noticed the pained expression flickering in his eyes, though you had to hand it to him that he was using all his acting skills to pretend to be fine and make you leave.

— Stop being so stubborn! Even Matthias isn't afraid of my abilities anymore after I healed that bullet wound in his shoulder.

You determinedly followed Kaz into his room, letting the door slam menacingly. As a sign to Kaz that you wouldn't just give up and leave him to be alone with the pain. As a sign to everyone else in the Slat that no one was allowed to bother him anymore in the next couple of hours.

There was no relationship between the two of you. At least, that's what you both claimed when Jesper and Nina cast too many meaningful glances at you, and Inej carefully kept in a secret all those times she saw you leaving Kaz's bedroom before breakfast, knowing that you had spent the night with him. Saints, sometimes even you convinced yourself that you had nothing in common, even though certain details made it clear that your relationship had long gone beyond the professional.

If you didn't know Kaz personally, you'd think he was giving you conflicting signals. He was withdrawn and aloof, preferring to talk only about business. Even if he insisted and you spent the entire evening around him, he went about his deals as if he didn't notice your presence. His stern tone was used toward you as often as it was toward everyone else.

If you didn't know him, you'd be sure that Kaz Brekker was a cold, indifferent bastard who was only interested in kruge and the future death of Pekka Rollins. Calculating and cruel and completely incapable of basic affections. But in reality it was very different. The trick was not to take Kaz for an ordinary guy and not to see him as such. His difficult past had made him wear such armor that it had time to blend into his skin over the years.

In those moments when anyone else would have approached you with caring questions and a warm hug if you were suddenly hurt during the heist, Kaz would limit himself to a brief worried look, though later he would definitely comb down the person you were paired with. You once accused him of being incapable of showing any emotions, but you later realized that the Barrel had hardened him to show it in the most inconspicuous way possible, so as not to put you in any danger. Only the Saints know what Pekka or anyone else would have done to you if they had known about the secret feelings Kaz had for you.

When Wylan revealed that he knew a Healer, everyone took it with great enthusiasm. Even Kaz saw it as a good sign, and it made everyone feel a little more at ease about the tasks ahead, though you remembered to remind Crows to be careful. You could heal a lot, but it wasn't always instantaneous and serious wounds could take a couple of weeks to fully heal. The bigger problem was someone else's stubbornness - Jesper would drag himself to you almost every day with any simple cut, while Matthias or Kaz would literally have to be persuaded.

— I want to help. Let me, please.

Despite the soft shell, the authoritative tone was no deception to Kaz. He sighed heavily and, after a little hesitation, pulled off his jacket, ignoring the flash of pain around his shoulder. Who would have thought that Pekka's secretary was so good with knives?

— You're not supposed to be here, Y/n. He'll be looking for you. Did Pim let you in? — the curt speech was the proof of how much effort Brekker was making to hold back a painful groan and, God forbid, admit that he really needed some help.

You were bound to Anderson with an indenture and officially worked at one of his clubs along with the other Grishas. He was a part of the Merchant Council and was involved in key decisions regarding politics and trade in Ketterdam, which, however, did not stop him from accepting bribes, being under the wing of Pekka and running a real brothel in his club. Many men were really interested in spending the night with Grisha, though more often they ended up asking the girls to demonstrate their skills.

— Anderson is having a party tonight, along with a bunch of other great merchants. And you obviously knew that, since you'd snuck into Pekka's club, counting on the fact that he'd be among the other guests and his office would be empty. Why didn't Nina feel the heartbeat of the guards? — you were tired of the distance between you, so you approached first, gently helping to undo the buttons on Kaz's blood-soaked shirt. Your eyes tried desperately to catch his, but Brekker stubbornly looked away, trying to control the panic that was building up. Close bodily contact was still difficult for him, though his was making definite progress with your help.

— The Fabricator. Someone had worked on the office door, turning it into a veritable safe, through which it is impossible for Grisha to feel or hear anything. Someone from Dregs had told Pekka about our future attack.

Kaz looked angry, but you understood that he had already passed the stage of frustration with his subordinates and so was calculating his options as to who might had done it. His sharp mind was constantly at work, and it was clearly to his advantage now, since it distracted him from realizing how close your fingers were to his body. Phantom heat could already be felt, but it was nothing compared to what he was going to feel later.

You had tried some things before. Intimacy might have been expressed in different ways, but gradually you raised the degree higher and higher. Kaz was getting used to your presence more and more and it allowed him to push his boundaries a little further. Recently you were even able to spend the night in the same bed, separated only by the thin fabric of your pajamas. Before his trauma Kaz was a particularly tactile child, and you hoped to bring him back to that at least a little, showing him that physical touch didn't always have to be accompanied by pain and panic.

You remembered perfectly your first kiss. How timid and cautious it was at first. How desperate and greedy it became later, until a wave of anxiety swept over Kaz and made him pull away first. He focused on avoiding you for a whole week after that and was pretty sure that you were disappointed in his ability to control himself or that you were angry because of his attitude toward touching and the fact that he couldn't give you something normal. However, you managed to change his mind and you continued to take steps toward each other, guided by your growing feelings.

— None of that matters now. You took the papers you wanted, and I'll heal your wounds. We'll deal with everything else in the morning, okay? — you smiled encouragingly, and then you gently stepped closer, your fingers caressing Kaz's bare left side, trying to bind the broken ribs together. Your attentive gaze was fixed on Kaz's face the whole time, assessing and comparing, so that you could instantly catch the moment when the panic of too close contact would occupy his mind again.

— Will you stay? — Kaz finally stopped pretending that his brave solitude on that night was more appealing to him than your support.

— If you behave yourself, sweetheart.

You pulled his shirt aside and examined more closely many bruises and cuts that studded Kaz's torso. The open wound on his right shoulder demanded your attention first, so you gently nudged Kaz toward the bed so that he could sit on it and give you more space. As you worked, you couldn't stop gazing at him, admiring him openly, and your free palm lightly touched his hair, brushing back the strands that had fallen to his forehead. Tenderness filled your heart, and a wandering smile appeared on your lips that didn't escape Kaz's attention.

He liked these moments of comfort with you, and he expressed it in his own way, deciding to take the initiative and slowly run his fingertips from your knee up your thigh. You were standing almost between his legs and the height difference you created gave him an advantageous opportunity. Touching you was still new to Kaz, but the mind-fogging desire was too great and, at certain moments, overpowered any panic. And that's why he gently wrapped his arm around your wrist and pulled you toward him to make you sit on his lap, facing each other even closer.

— It's good you weren't there in his office. If Pekka finds out you're working with me, he'll definitely tell Anderson. They're great friends, it wouldn't cost him anything to get your indenture to himself, — Kaz' eyes were filled with pure hatred, and some part of you was glad it wasn't meant for you.

— You could buy me out. That way I would belong only to you.

— You already belong only to me, Y/n, — Kaz said confidently, in a wave of ghostly jealousy, not even paying attention to the fact that your palm moved to his face, healing his cheekbones from the horrible bruises.

— Only at night. You only claim me here, among these confined four walls, when no one can see or hear us, — you shrugged briefly, getting rid of the sadness in your voice. It would be foolish to expect a man like Kaz to drop everything and leave for a peaceful life. Ketterdam, power and the pursuit of money was everything to him. — Sometimes it takes an effort to remind myself of that during the day, when I don't know if I can see you again because people on streets are about to break the news of your death after another fight or because Anderson will sell me out to someone else.

It was harder to hear about it than to just know it and keep it in the back of his mind. You were the fairest and most beautiful girl for Kaz, the person he truly wanted to protect from everything and care about, and he was sickened by the thought that someone could take you away or hurt you somehow. The words swirled on his tongue, burning with its despair, and he needed to do something to hold on to that moment and cling to you, to prove that the only thing real now was you, your caressing touches erasing the painful sensation from his skin, and the heat of life itself that emanated from you.

The few times before all your kisses had come from you. Kaz had found it easier to accept touch than to touch himself, but now the need to be with you made him go with his urges, so his palm gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and his lips covered yours so hastily, as if he feared it was the last thing he would ever have time and ability to do in his life. But kissing him was still extremely satisfying.

So much that the desire instantly settled in your blood and made you more pliable. Your tongue slid playfully along his, and a convulsive, loud exhalation became yours in common. You unconsciously buried your fingers in his hair and pulled stronger, causing Kaz to moan briefly right into the kiss before he slowly pulled away with a completely shaken look and a bright smile and a glint in his eyes. And in that moment he looked a hell of a lot like his usual self, just a guy spending time with the girl he loved, and their only problem was not the prospect of death at the hands of rival gangs, but the question of whether they'd locked the door.

Although Kaz Brekker had another question stashed away — would you agree to wear that ring he bought for you so you could remember him and his feelings at all times?

Part 2

#kaz brekker #six of crows #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x reader

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auroravictorium · 2 years

Text

would've, could've, should've (k.b.)

if i never blushed then they could've never whispered about this.

Summary: kaz blames himself for reader's kidnapping, and reader fights back as best she can.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship) Word Count: ~3.9k Warnings: heavy violence (kicking, punching, gun is mentioned but not used), mentions of blood, reader is repeatedly knocked out via ether Genre: angst + action

Author's Note: not as much kaz in this one, but fret not! he appears more in the next piece, which is already in the works and should be up in the next few days! i hope you all enjoy!

grishaverse masterlist

(GIF from capinejghafa)

The leatherbound volume slammed against the creaky door of Kaz's office the moment Inej shut it behind her. Splinters rained down onto the floor, and he glared at the mess.

His gloves were tight against his knuckles, where he gripped his cane, and his chest heaved with fury. Raw anger coursed through him; for once, he could not feel the slime of a corpse against his skin. Instead, rage had set his flesh alight, burning away the feeling of death. The harbor was absent, recoiling in favor of the temper he fought hard to keep in check as much as he could in the Barrel.

Kaz reached for his jar of ink and threw it as hard as he could against the door. But the sight of ink and glass spraying across his office did little to ease his anger or the panic rising in his chest.

He hunched over his desk, his gloved palms pressing flat against the surface. His breathing was too fast, his shoulders trembling as his mind wandered. Pekka Rollins hired mercenaries to take you. They were taking you south. Who knows what they had planned? Who knows what resources they had at their disposal?

Who knows if a few hours ago would be the last time he ever saw you, and it was tinged by his inability to choke out how he felt? Before you left, you'd squeezed his hand and murmured three simple words.

I love you.

It was funny how three words from your lips made him feel like he wasn't Kaz Brekker, like he didn't regularly hurt people or steal or threaten violence against those who got too close to his business for comfort. With just three words, you made him feel like maybe some part of him could be Kaz Rietveld still.

And he didn't fucking say those words back, though his throat burned and his mouth opened and:

"No mourners," he said instead.

"No funerals," you responded, with no idea how much he wanted to tell you he loved you back. No clue of how the words sat on the tip of his tongue, tasting like the fruit his father pretended he didn't see Kaz and Jordie swiping from the harvest. Tasting like a part of him he thought had drowned, a part that you pulled to shore and put air back into.

He didn't fucking say it. He should've said it.

Kaz squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear you in his mind: Breathe. Think.

He couldn't think, and there wasn't enough oxygen in the room for his lungs. All he could think about was you, at the mercy of some mercenaries who probably didn't give a damn that he was Kaz Brekker and could gut them without blinking.

Kaz slammed his palms against his desk hard enough that his skin stung beneath his gloves. He grabbed his cane from where it fell and limped around his desk and past the mess of his office. His door trembled on its hinges as he ripped it open and stormed past; he moved over to the crumbling stairs and brought the blunt end of his cane down on a step he knew was particularly creaky.

The entire staircase rattled, and Kaz heard the quiet shuffling of feet as Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan, and even Matthias started coming up the stairs. They stopped on the landing when they saw Kaz, shadows cast across his face by a dim oil lamp in the corner and icy eyes darkened by anger, turned the color of the True Sea.

"Mercenaries, you said?" Kaz said quietly, gaze flickering to Inej. "Hired by Pekka Rollins."

Inej nodded, reigniting his fury. But not at her, nor at Jesper. Being angry with them had never crossed his mind, though he saw their haunted faces as they sized him up and tried to figure out how much he blamed them for Y/N's situation.

Kaz clenched his jaw and turned on his heel. "Meeting. Now." He stormed back toward his office and kicked the inky glass shards out of his way as he entered his office. They skidded across the floor, some disappearing beneath furniture, others twirling until their sharpest edges pointed upward.

The Crows piled into Kaz's office. Jesper leaned against the wall with Wylan, ducking his head and looking down at his hands. The hands that, just an hour ago, had shot at mercenaries in an attempt to protect his friend. The hands that failed him. Wylan slipped his hand into one of Jesper's and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Nina sat in the chair across from Kaz's, and Matthias stood within reach. His eyes tracked Kaz as he moved from his desk to the smudged window and back. For once, Matthias could guess what the demjin was thinking, could see it on his face. Kaz was angry, yes, but Matthias could read the terror written beneath from the grip on his cane to the ticking of his jaw.

He found himself sympathetic toward Kaz, and Matthias didn't often feel anything but mild vexation toward the man. As he glanced down at Nina, nervously tracing the shape of her thumbnail with her fingertips, he understood Kaz's fury; if someone took Nina, he would respond the same way. And Kaz would be the first person he'd call to get her back.

"Where do we start?" Inej said quietly, positioning herself at the window and glancing at the street below. She twirled one of her knives across her knuckles, unable to keep her hands still.

"Describe the mercenaries," Kaz finally said. He clenched his fist around the crow's head of his cane as he sat to take the pressure off his leg. It was difficult to sit down; he wanted to be on the streets, burning the city to ashes to find you. But he would be of no use to you if he didn't have a plan and his leg went out beneath him. Think, Brekker. "Then we make a plan, and we get Y/N back."

SIX HOURS LATER. NOON.

You awoke to the feeling of a carriage rattling along an uneven gravel road. The back of your head thumped against the carriage window, and your skull ached from the repeated impact against the blacked-out glass. Air seared against your nose and throat with every breath you took, and it was a struggle to open your eyes with the heaviness weighing them down.

Two of your captors sat across from you, their masks on and eyes on you. One held a stained rag and a brown bottle in one hand, and the other pressed a gun to your forehead. Out of instinct, your fingers twitched to disarm him, but you quickly found that your hands were tied behind your back with sailing rope, and your ankles were bound with the same material. The rope chafed against the skin of your wrists and ankles, and it took every ounce of your self-control to not show your fear or pain.

"Now, don't make any sudden moves," the man with the gun said calmly. His voice was thick with an accent. He clearly wasn't from Kerch; you guessed he was a sailor by training and a mercenary by choice, if the rope around your limbs was any evidence.

You sized him up and considered your immediate instinct to spit in his face. He wouldn't shoot you in close quarters and, if your suspicions were correct, wouldn't dare injure you without a particular gang leader's go-ahead. You didn't have many options, and anything seemed more appealing than sitting there with a gun against your temple.

A wad of spit went straight into his eye, and you swung your legs upward toward his head to jerk yourself into a sitting position. It lacked decorum and grace, but you didn't have much room to move. Unfortunately, your feet only struck the man's shoulder, making him hiss and lower his gun. He shoved your legs off him, and you teetered on the edge of the bench opposite your captors.

Son of a bitch, you thought. You would've said it aloud had it not been for the man with the bottle opening his cargo and dunking the liquid inside onto the rag in his hand. The sickly sweet smell from earlier struck your nostrils, and you immediately shut your mouth. Your lungs burned as you held your breath, but you refused to pass out again.

When I get my hands free, I'm gutting you and using you as fish bait. You wiggled around to cause as much mayhem as possible, hoping to distract from the jerking of your shoulders as you fought against your bindings. You brought your feet down on the bottle man's boots, making him grimace and nearly drop the toxin. "She's a fighter, ain't she?" he snarled. "Open her mouth."

The first man lurched toward you, dropping his gun into his lap and grabbing your face with his hands. You writhed, jerking your head to the side to free it as you locked your jaw shut as tight as possible. Your teeth ground together, and black spots danced around your vision from the beginnings of a lack of oxygen. You could either breathe in the toxin that knocked you out or pass out of your own volition; both choices led to you being no closer to escaping.

Save your energy. You didn't want to give in. You didn't want to see your friends' faces swimming in your mind, warped and twisted by whatever your captors were poisoning you with.

You had no choice.

You let the man think he had successfully pried your mouth open, and you bit down hard on the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. He roared, jerking his hand back and cursing in Ravkan. His blood filled your mouth, and you gagged on the bitter taste, spluttering to get it off your tongue. It dribbled down your face, onto your clothes.

"Touch me again, and you'll lose the hand," you hissed. You spat at the first man again, and red speckled across his face like grotesque freckles.

With a fierce glare at your captors, you inhaled deeply. The relief of your lungs expanding was quickly counteracted by the weight of the toxin pulling you down, and you collapsed back onto the seat of the carriage, your head colliding with a sickening crack against the door handle.

SIX HOURS LATER. DUSK.

The next time you opened your eyes, you were in a dark cell. The rope had been removed from your limbs, but the skin burned from chafing. A searing pain threatened to split your skull in half, and you could hardly turn your head to take in your surroundings.

As your eyes adjusted, you could see a single oil lamp in the corner, unlit and covered in dust. Beside that was a bucket filled with water; you could tell the water wasn't clean from the horrid smell wafting toward you, and you held back a gag. Gingerly, you sat up from the makeshift pallet of ragged blankets you'd been set on.

Bad idea. Immediately, the world swam before you, and a violent wave of nausea overtook you. You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and carefully laid back down to ease the throbbing discomfort in your skull. You pressed a hand to the back of your head, and it came away slick and red. Shit. How were you supposed to fight your way out of here if you couldn't even sit up without the world doing flips?

A metallic clang echoed down the hall, and you turned your head toward the sound. Pain shot down your neck and spine, and you could barely suppress your hiss of pain; your pain was forgotten as a pair of boots stomped into view. You lifted your gaze to find none other than bottle-guy, looking unhappy to have found you awake. He wore no mask this time, and you took the chance to scan his face and memorize every detail so you could describe him if you made a ran for it. Smeared with dirt and grime. Dirty hair of unknown color. He looked like just about every sailor you'd ever met.

He grimaced at you like you were the problem, and you glared back at him. "I was hopin' you'd die in your sleep," he said matter-of-factly. His eyes, dark as night, skimmed your form, and disgust crossed his face. "I can't figure out why we were hired to deal with ya."

"You don't seem to be the brightest bunch," you shot back. You pushed yourself onto your elbows and surveyed your captor with just as much distaste. With some satisfaction, you noted some of his buddy's blood had stained the hem of his trousers after you spat it. "You'll be lucky if Pekka Rollins doesn't have your head after you're done with me, just to cover his tracks."

Your captor barked a laugh. "I'd like to see him try, sweetheart." He drummed his knuckles against the metal bars of your cell, and his eyes roamed over you again. A predatory glint shone in them, and his hand dropped to the ring of keys on his belt. "Now, what makes you special enough that he's willing to hire us instead of doing the dirty work himself?"

He unlocked the door to your cell and stepped inside. You kicked yourself into a sitting position and shoved yourself back against the wall. The world did somersaults, and you fought hard to keep from collapsing again as the blood rushed from your head and black spots danced in your vision.

The man crouched before you and reached out as if he intended to stroke a finger down your cheek. You shoved his hand away and nearly lost your balance. "Don't touch me," you snarled.

He just laughed again. "Feisty, aren't you?" He reached out again, and you kicked your leg up as hard as possible between his legs. He grunted and dropped his hand, slumping to his knees.

Taking the opportunity, you pushed yourself forward enough to swing your fist toward his face. With terrible vertigo and the feeling like you were about to collapse into a useless heap, you were pleased when your hand collided with his nose with a satisfying crunch. Blood sprayed across your knuckles and down his face, and he reeled back with a shout of surprise.

"You bitch!" he growled, bringing his hand to his face and glowering at you over his fingers. He lurched forward like he might strike or strangle you, and you kicked out again with much less force than the first time. Your strength was waning, and he knew it. He caught your ankle and pushed your leg away with ease. But before he could get any closer, a hand grabbed the collar of his jacket and hauled him back.

"Now, Sergei, don't antagonize our guest," a new voice said. His voice was quiet and thick with a Fjerdan accent. You looked up while blinking away the blurriness in your gaze and found a third man who hadn't been in the carriage with you. Judging by the ease with which Sergei obeyed him, you knew he was in charge. He reeked of authority and pride.

"What, want the chance to do it yourself?" you snapped. Though he pulled Sergei away before he could bash your head into the wall, you didn't appreciate the man looking down at you like he'd done you a favor. You couldn't help but bristle as his eyes roamed your body, and you would've curled up to cover yourself if you could will your body to move. "I didn't think mercenaries went so low as to kick someone while they're down, especially when they intend to hand them over to someone else."

He wasn't as tolerant of your spite as Sergei was. Without releasing Sergei, he brought his foot down on your knee. The joint seared beneath his weight; your kneecap threatened to shatter, and the tendons nearly snapped as he pressed down until it almost bent in the wrong direction. You cried out, your head falling back against the stone wall. The impact agitated the gash on the back of your head, and you could feel blood soaking your scalp. It seeped down the back of your neck, and a soft groan of pain slipped past your lips.

"It might be wise for you to consider that we can do what we wish to you until Pekka Rollins arrives," he hissed. He dropped Sergei, who gingerly got to his feet with a smirk playing on his lips. If you could, you'd shoot them both to see if they would still be smirking. "I suggest keeping your mouth shut and your limbs to yourself."

A haze of pain clouded your vision, the adrenaline of inflicting some revenge on one of your captors dissipating. You forced yourself to nod, hoping he'd take his weight off your knee before your traitorous tears of agony could fall. You blinked them away, and a trembling sigh escaped you as the Fjerdan stepped back and off your knee. Immediately, you pressed a hand to the tender flesh and whimpered as a sharp ache shot up and down your leg.

Definitely bruised, and the kneecap might be broken. How the hell am I supposed to get out of here like this?

He left without another word, taking Sergei with him. As he passed, Sergei grinned through the bars at you, his teeth glimmering like a monster's, and offered a taunting wiggle of his fingers. You dropped your gaze to the ground and your outstretched legs before you, one swollen and the other scraped from who knows what.

You heard Sergei laugh as he moved down the hall after the Fjerdan leader, and the sound rang in your ears long after he was gone. Mocking, gleeful, haunting.

Tears slid down your cheeks without your permission, and you impatiently wiped them away. There's no time to cry. You thought of Jesper and Inej, who had definitely told Kaz about your disappearance by now. If you thought of them and how strong they were under pressure, maybe you wouldn't think about the searing pain in your body. If you thought of Matthias, damn near unbreakable, perhaps you could channel his strength. Nina, her bravery and wit, no matter the situation.

Your friends, your family, who had to be trying to find you.

Your thoughts drifted to Kaz. His scheming face. His smirk. His fingers laced with yours. The fierceness in his eyes. How he looked at you before you left, with glimmering eyes and hair falling into his face from running his fingers through it too many times. Kaz had looked at you like there were a million things he wanted to say, to do. A rare moment of softness that made your heart ache as you considered where you were now.

Somehow, you managed to slip into an uneasy sleep. You dreamt of men with masks and blood seeping from your mouth as you inhaled the sickly sweet toxin they kept giving you. Behind the masks, they laughed and laughed, even as you began to choke. It was impossible to break from the nightmare; something held you down, kept your eyes shut.

Finally waking was a mercy, though you should have feared whatever awaited you once you awoke. Blinking slowly and fighting against lingering fatigue, you noticed two bowls of thin broth had been shoved into your cell. The scent had long faded, and dust floated in a thin layer on top.

How long had it been since you were last awake?

You forced yourself into a sitting position, ignoring the aching of your muscles, and you investigated your injuries. Your knee was severely bruised and couldn't bear the weight of even your fingertips on the skin, and dried blood crusted your scalp and the back of your neck.

Eat, you thought. You needed to regain some of your strength if you stood a chance at surviving whatever Pekka Rollins had planned for when he arrived. Even better, perhaps you could escape before surviving him was necessary.

You dragged yourself across the stone floor toward the bowls of broth. It felt like your muscles hadn't been used in days, and your right knee dragged painfully against the ground as you crawled to the bars. When you made it, your breathing was ragged, and your face was coated with a thin layer of sweat. It was a struggle to focus on one of the bowls of broth as each throb of your head rattled your vision; you nearly knocked a bowl over but caught it with trembling, clumsy fingers.

What the fuck are they giving me? How have I been weakened so quickly?

You propped yourself up on one arm and used the other to lift a bowl to your lips. The broth felt like acid on your dry mouth, but you forced it down. It tasted like nothing, and you wondered if you would've been better off taking your chances with not eating it.

No. Eat.

You finished the bowl of broth and reached for the second. Already, some moisture had returned to your mouth. Your mind was less muddled, the fog in your brain cleared by the sensation of something other than the toxin passing your lips. Before you could start sipping the second bowl, you heard boots scraping down the hallway.

Your head snapped up, and you grabbed the two bowls, stacking them and then scrambling backward using your legs and free hand until your back hit the wall. Keep nothing behind me and my eyes ahead. The skin of your fingers whitened as your grip on the bowls grew tighter, and you waited for your visitor to arrive.

For a moment, you couldn't see who it was. A gas lamp shone brightly outside the bars, and you turned your head. Spots twirled in your vision, and you blinked them away. When you opened your eyes, you immediately wished you hadn't. Your second wish was that you had a gun. Your third was that the man before you hadn't been born in the first place.

Pekka Rollins stood outside your cell in a perfectly tailored suit, untouched by blood or dirt. In your state, covered in dirty and torn clothing, you could have felt like nothing more than a bug beneath his glare.

That was what he wanted, and you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

Instead, you lifted your chin and the full bowl of broth. Feigning bringing it to your lips, you kept your eyes defiantly on him as you took one slow sip. Pekka Rollins just watched with a note of amusement in his eyes. He was too happy to see you before him like this.

His smugness was the match needed to light your anger, and you were all too happy to be ignited.

You launched the bowl across the cell and watched as watered-down broth soaked the front of his suit and slivers of porcelain sprayed into the hallway and onto the floor of your cell.

You only hoped you would get the chance to do worse.

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