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amsgrey · 1 year

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take it slow

Kaz Brekker x Fem! reader

request:

hi love!! could you please do a Kaz Brekker x reader where the reader helps Kaz cut his hair?? maybe it’s super hard for Kaz to do it himself for some reason and he finally lets reader help. they take it really slow tho so kaz is comfortable. thanks 🥰🥰

warnings: not proof-read, canon typical violence, talking of gambling, a whole lot of angsty fluff, Kaz working through his skin aversion/phobia, switches a lot between the reader's pov and Kaz's, I tried to be fancy with the wiring but its meh, mid ending

You sighed, looking out over the bustling tables and colourful clothes that made up the Crow Club. Pigeons and regulars crowd the tables to avoid the pouring rain beyond the doors. Nights like this were freezing, the Ketterdam cold had a way of finding the cracks in buildings. Seeping into homes and putting out fires. Whenever it would get too bad, the Crow Club would get busier. Kaz carefully built the club to be enticing, it was hard to leave the comfort of warmth with weather like tonight.

You were in charge tonight, a steep task seeming the steady stream of people entering the club. Kaz had locked himself in his room at the slat, the last job the crows had gone on went south. Kaz took a bullet to the arm, effectively losing his strength for the foreseeable future. It had made him sourer than usual, he had chewed Jesper out for being careless and letting the job go south.

You looked over at the gunslinger now, sitting at a table with Wylan, the latter trying to stop too much money from being squandered. You had promised to stake him for the night, to make up for the way Kaz had treated him, it was the least you could do. Even so, you still felt the gnaw of guilt watching him at the table. You weren't a fan of gambling, at least not the kind Jesper was. He liked the thrill of the unknown, but he never knew when to stop. At least Wylan was with him now, supervising to be sure Jesper had a good time but not so much that he would regret it.

Nina and Matthias were here tonight as well, they hardly ever stayed around the club, but tonight Nina had convinced Matthias to have a drink and enjoy the night. Inej had been with them at the start of the night but had since slunk off to do what she did best. You hoped Kaz hadn't sent her on any errands tonight, you worried the spider might just get washed off her perch if she was. The steep gables of Ketterdam were treacherous on a clear day, they would be lethal tonight.

You were startled when a shout echoed around the room, the man it came from was clearly unhappy with his hand. He stood from his seat and grabbed the dealer by his collar, shaking and shouting in his face. You rolled your eyes, men who lost at the tables often blamed the dealers for their misfortune. The man yelling had silenced the club, everyone watching as Keeg pushed his way over to the man. Fighting and violence were not allowed in the Crow Club, if you had an issue you took it outside. You watched from the stairs as Keeg seized the man and hauled him away from the tables, tossing him outside into the rain with a terse warning not to stick around. The room was bustling again before the doors even closed.

You climbed down the stairs and headed to where Matthias and Nina were sitting, comfortably tucked into one of the quieter corners of the club. Nina lit up when she saw you, as she always did.

'Are you here to join us?" She asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

You shook your head, "Have you seen Kaz tonight?"

Nina rolled her eyes, "I offered to help him with his arm but he refused." She crossed her arms, "Quite rudely, actually."

You offered her a small smile that felt fake, "Sounds like Kaz."

Nina waved her hand dismissively, taking a sip of her drink.

You turned to look back over the club, knowing you should be focused on the events that transpired here, but being unable to stop your mind wander back to the attic of the slat.

Kaz was not the easiest person to love but you did so anyway. Last night you had tried to offer him comfort, but he had lashed out and left you feeling stupid. You knew he had regretted his words, the moment he said them his eyes gave away his shock. Kaz was all sharp lines and harshness, he had boarded his heart up with cruel words and violent ways. You knew that he would not change at the drop of a hat, but you saw the good in him. The good he spent years burying so deep he couldn't find it himself. So you stayed patient, you gave him space when he needed it. Cautious not to smother him or hasten him when he was not ready. He would let you in, piece by piece until all his walls were gone, and he felt safe with you.

In the last few months since getting closer, Kaz had let you past his defences. He quietly told you small details about himself. How he had grown up outside of Lij, on a farm he had left behind after his father's death. How he was always fascinated with sleight of hand - magic - even as he outgrew childhood. He had even slowly told you about his brother. Only small things, like how he had been 5 years older and had died not long after they came to Ketterdam. You could see how hard it was for him to share those small things, watch him fight with himself about if he should tell you. So in turn, you told him about your own quietly kept secrets. It was a strange transaction, but you could feel the bond between you both strengthening the more you shared in the quiet of Kaz's room.

Nina pulled you from your trance with a hand on your arm, she drew your attention back to the present. You turned to look at her, knowing already she could feel how your heart was racing with worry.

"You should go try again," She said, squeezing your hand.

"I'm meant to be closing."

"We can do it," Matthias replied, "Jesper and Wylan will help."

You looked over to where Wylan and Jesper were, they seemed to feel your eyes on them and they turned and offered smiles.

"Go," Nina urged again, "Before I change my mind and cozy up in bed."

You hugged your friend tight, thanking her and asking her to pass on thanks to Wylan and Jesper.

You forced yourself out the doors before you could dwell too much more on it. Keeg waved you off, letting you know he would keep watch as you were gone.

You shoved your hands into your pockets as you walked, keeping your head down to avoid the rain as much as possible. You walked as quickly as you could, sticking to the side of buildings to avoid getting drenched in the downpour.

As you crossed over the bridge a few blocks away from the slat, Inej fell into step beside you. You were used to the Suli girl appearing at your side, if It were anyone else you would get startled, but Inej was always a comforting presence. Sometimes you felt like she was a saint, the way she watched over you and the crows. You told her this often, reminding her of how appreciative you were to have a friend like her around.

"Kaz hasn't sent you on any jobs tonight has he?"

Inej shook her head, "No."

You let out a breathy laugh, "Then why were you jumping across the rooftops?"

You knew the answer.

"I feel at home on the roofs, it's my own Ketterdam."

You hummed, taking in her answer. Inej told you about the time she spent training on the highwire as a child, how she loved the feeling of being free so high off the ground. She was brave and unwavering like that and you admired her greatly for it.

As you came up on the Slat, Inej disappeared back into the shadows of the night. She would return to the club, or retire to her room, but she enjoyed climbing her way across Ketterdam and you were happy to let her do so.

The slat was mostly quiet when you entered. Anika and a few other Dregs were drinking and conversing quietly as if not to disturb anyone. You knew it was to not bother Kaz. Although Dirtyhands had put in a lot of effort and money into making the slat warm and dry, voices still carried. Most nights you could hear conversations from the bottom floor all the way in Kaz's attic, it was how you knew whenever Jesper got back. He was loud enough to be heard all over the slat.

You started your climb up the stairs, watching your rain-soaked boots take each step with certainty. Although you climbed these stairs multiple times a day, you still felt as if you might trip down them. They were narrow and steep, a recipe for disaster when the rain made your shoes slippery.

Three floors up, you stopped in your room. It was hardly a room and more of a closet, fitting your cot and dresser and not much else. You truly didn't mind, you were right next door to Inej and you only ever came to your room to sleep or change.

You kicked off your boots and stripped off your socks, replacing them quickly with a dry pair to keep your feet warm. You shrugged off your jacket and hung it on the door handle , with any luck it would dry before you would need it again tomorrow. You slipped out of the room and headed back to the stairs to Kaz's room.

Your feet made no sound as you climbed the steps, the silence of your movements allowing you to listen for Kaz in his room. Most of the time you would hear him shuffling through papers, but tonight there was little noise coming from behind the door. As you reached up to knock you prayed he wasn't sleeping.

"Yes?"

You cracked open the door, surprised to find Kaz wasn't sitting at his desk but standing in front of the small mirror in the corner of the room. He had scissors in his good hand, the other shakingly brushing back his hair from his face.

You had noticed how Kaz's hair had gotten much longer lately. The dark strands often blocking his eyes. You knew it drove him crazy, he hated having his hair in his eyes, but he had been too busy to fix it for now.

Kaz shared how he cut his own hair not long ago, you remembered the conversation vividly. He had caught his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands in the small basin, asking you if you liked his hair.

You had been surprised, Kaz never cared for what others thought of his appearance. You told him the truth, that you loved his hair. Loved how he took time to cut it and try to style it, to you it showed his quiet care. When you asked why he was suddenly concerned, he mentioned how Nina had teased him about it once. It had been a harmless comment, but to him brought back the fact that he feared others touch so much he couldn't bare to let someone else cut it. So it looked rough, uneven in some parts and sometimes much shorter than he intended. You offered to help him when he was ready, but he had yet to take you up on the offer.

"Kaz," You sighed, taking a tentative step forward as if not to startle him. "You should be resting."

Kaz just frowned at his reflection.

His hands were shaking, you noticed. His right hand with the scissors shook so subtly that you might have missed It if you weren't looking. His other hand gripped tight to the side of the basin, as he fought the pain that throbbed down his bicep.

"I can't stand it anymore," Kaz growled, glaring at the hair that kept flopping in his face.

You chuckled, watching the man glower at his reflection with all his barrel brutality.

Crossing the room towards him, you held out your hand, "Let me help."

Kaz stared at your hand like it was foreign. You waited patiently as he had an internal battle. You felt a pang of sympathy when you watched a look of longing pass over Kaz's face. He wanted to let you help, he wanted nothing more than to feel your hands running through his hair with the tender care you always held. But the waters were always there, right below him. If he let you help, they might just swallow him whole.

Finally, Kaz resigned the scissors to you with a sigh.

You smiled at him, "We'll take it slowly." You promised, "If it gets too much, tell me and we’ll stop."

Kaz nodded.

He watched you in the mirror as you stood behind him, assessing what he had already done and what you would do. You knew he liked it a certain way, you spent enough time staring at him to memorize how it always looked. You made eye contact with Kaz in the mirror.

"Ready?"

Kaz nodded, taking in a deep breath.

You ran your hand through his hair, combing it back off his face with your fingers. You could almost feel how Kaz relaxed, his tense shoulders falling just a little. You took it as a good sign, continuing to gently pull his hair away from his face and start cutting.

It was slow going, you paused every few minutes to remind Kaz to breathe and release the tension in his muscles. You had no intention of making him suffer through his flashbacks alone. So you muttered reassuring words, offering to take a longer break or to step back for a moment as he processed. Kaz would shake his head, refusing to let you move away in case he would never feel you close again.

Your body was so warm he could feel it through the shirt on his back. You were always comforting and warm like a fire on a cold day. Kaz sometimes felt himself leaning into the feeling, leaning into you. Getting close to someone after so many years of pushing everyone away was terrifying for him. But he was determined to work through it, to be worthy of the gentleness and care you bestowed on him.

When you were done, you ran your fingers through his hair one last time. Your fingertips brushed against the skin on the back of his neck. Typically, the feeling would repulse him, send him spiralling into the frigid waves, but now he felt warmth grow from where you touched. He let out a sigh, revelling in the peace that he felt at that moment. It had been so long since skin-on-skin contact had made him feel something other than repulsion, he had almost forgotten what it was like.

You stepped back, placing the scissors on the desk and giving him space. You were buzzing with emotions and you feared they might just burst out of you if you stayed too close.

The room was silent, the only sound coming from you and Kaz's quiet breaths. You could feel your heart beating erratically, it pulsated through your body as you tried to steady it. Kaz was staring at your handiwork in the mirror, his hands running through it and feeling how it reacted. After a few tense moments, he turned to you, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

Kaz's smiles were hard to earn. Often, it felt like his only facial expression was the stern frown he always wore. But every now and again, in the safety of these four walls, his eyes would relax and his lips pull upwards.

The first time Kaz had smiled at you, you had felt drunk. You could live in that moment for a million years and never grow sick of it. His smile was so gentle, it warmed you from the inside out. You searched for that feeling everywhere, but it only ever came when Kaz smiled.

You felt hopelessly lovesick now, staring into the eyes of the bastard of the barrel. He was so different within these walls, still sarcastic and ill-tempered at times, but also gentle and caring. When he allowed himself the chance to feel safe, you could see the little boy from Lij who loved magic and games.

"Thank you."

You could only just hear the words over the roar of your heartbeat, offering Kaz a tight-lipped smile and a wave of your hand.

"It's no problem."

You both stayed silent for a little longer, looking everywhere but at each other. You were brimming with butterflies, the same giddy feeling you got when you had your first crush.

Kaz stood from his perch, slowly limping over to you. You waited as he did so, worried a move might break the spell that overcame you both. You fiddled with your fingers, trying to calm the thoughts racing through your mind.

Kaz reached out a gloved hand, holding your hand to stop your anxious habit. You had held his hand before, mostly when he wore his gloves so that he wouldn't get too overwhelmed, but it always made you feel safe. The most dangerous man in all of Ketterdam was not dirtyhands here, he was Kaz, gentle and loving.

You watched silently as Kaz pulled his hand away and slipped his gloves off. You knew that he preferred to take things slowly, he needed to take things slowly. You were in no rush, you had all the time in the world for the man before you.

Kaz's hands were still shaky, trembling ever so slightly as he reached for you again. He slowly raised his good hand to your face, hesitating before making contact. His eyes held a question, asking kindly for your permission. You accepted with a small nod, unable to help the tiny smile on your lips. Kaz's hand was colder than you were expecting as he cupped your cheek, you were sure he would be able to feel how hot you were. His slender fingers sat against your jawline, his thumb feathering across your cheekbone, like he was exploring your face. You subconsciously leaned into his hand, closing your eyes and letting a sigh slip from your lips. You could live here forever, in this safety and warmth, tucked away from the prying eyes of Ketterdam.

Kaz took a shaky breath in and you pulled away, startled that you might have pushed him too far. He only smiled, taking a small step forward and keeping his hand on your cheek. You could feel his breath on your skin now, the ghosting of his fingers. It almost felt like a dream. Kaz leaned in a little closer, your foreheads almost touching. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes and back.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to close the gap between you and press his lips to yours. You were so warm, your face tucked into his hand like it was made to be held by him. Your breath tickled his skin, it reminded him how you were here, alive. Saints, if he could just lean forward and-

All at once the water was snatching him under. The feeling of your skin turning cold and deathly. He lurched back, holding in his gags of disgust as the freezing waters overtook him.

"Kaz?"

He fell backwards, scrambling to put space between you both as he choked on the waters.

You could only watch as Kaz scrambled away from you, unable to do anything to stop him. He pulled himself as far away from you as he could, becoming a mess of shaking and shuddering breaths. He was panicking, the anxiety and fear clearly written across his features. It hurt, you wanted to help him but you feared you might only make it worse.

You knew you wouldn't be able to leave him in such a state, hyperventilating on the floor of his room. So you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, a good meter away from him to not suffocate him.

"I'm here, Kaz," You said softly, watching over him, "You're safe."

He took another few shuddering breaths, but they were slower than the last. You took it as a sign to keep going.

"Take it slow," You spoke just above a whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

You stayed a safe distance away as Kaz calmed down, watching over him and offering quiet reassurances as he slowly came to himself. When the panic was gone from his eyes, it was replaced with guilt. You knew how hard it was for Kaz to touch skin, you didn't know exactly why, but you didn't mind taking things slow for him.

You cut Kaz before he could say he was sorry, "It's okay."

Kaz reached for his gloves and shoved them on, "It's not."

You shuffled a little closer, "Kaz." The boy looked up at you with his dark eyes, "Truly, it's alright. I will wait for you. If it takes days, weeks or years, I will be here."

Kaz's eyes were glossy, you had never seen him cry but perhaps this was the closest he ever got.

"You, Kaz Brekker, are worth waiting for."

Kaz looked down, "Rietveld."

It caught you entirely off guard, "What?"

Kaz slowly lifted his eyes to yours, "My real name is Kaz Rietveld."

Your face burst into a bright grin, "Well, Kaz Rietveld, it's nice to meet you."

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phefics · 5 months

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𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: kaz brekker x reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: kaz struggles with touching peope, specifically skin-to-skin contact. he finds a way around his aversion to make you feel good. 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: afab!reader, fem!reader, fingering, kaz's gloves, intimacy struggles, mentions of kaz's canon trauma, virgin!kaz, cumming untouched 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1k

Kaz can’t stand skin-to-skin contact. It was inconvenient, yes, a frustrating side effect of his complicated past, but he’s managed to find loopholes.

Like the gloves, for instance. They acted as both a safety net and a talking point, starting those delightful rumors of his hands being permanently stained with the blood of his enemies, when in reality, he would be incapacitated without the scraps of leather to protect him.

But it had never mattered much, before you.

Human touch, connection, was never something he craved. He appreciates Jesper’s friendship, but has never longed to embrace him. He is fully capable of recognizing an attractive person, acknowledging beauty where it was obvious, but he’s never felt an desire to act on the attraction.

Lust was never something he felt, before you.

He had tried to act on his urges, to be like any other man and touch you, but it had ended poorly. You had given him space as he let the water retreat, and he had been filled with self-loathing for his failure.

And so, he found another loophole. He was a thief, a conman, so of course he could come up with a plan for anything.

The cool leather of his gloves took some getting used to, at first. The same fingers that so easily picked locks and pockets turned clumsy and unsure when they ventured between your legs.

You sat on his desk, naked from the waist down and legs spread wide, while Kaz sat at his desk chair in front of you, still fully clothed. Well, he had undone the top few buttons of his shirt, but that was as close to nude as he could handle at that moment.

Being naked in front of you didn’t embarrass him. Before there was any romance, any attraction evident between you, Kaz had stripped in your presence without concern. It was the proximity though, the vulnerability, that made his clothes a necessary barrier.

One gloved hand rested on your thigh, a silent reminder to keep your legs open for him, while the other was searching for your clit, still unfamiliar and inexperienced with your anatomy.

“Can I guide your hand?” you asked, tone gentle.

He nodded, so you took his wrist softly, being sure to touch only over his sleeve, and helped him find that special spot, the rough texture of the leather a new and thrilling sensation as his thumb flicker softly over your clit, curious.

You whined, your head lolling back as he followed your lead, his touch taking on a new confidence.

Kaz chuckled quietly. “Is this really all it takes?” he asked, a smug look on his face. “I’ve barely done a thing.”

“It feels good,” you replied. “Your gloves...It's different."

"A good sort of different, I assume?" he asked.

You nodded, another moan leaving your lips as he continued to touch your clit with his thumb, deciding to try slipping a finger inside of your hole. You were wet enough to ensure that the leather didn't feel painful going inside.

Although he wasn’t the one being pleasured, Kaz couldn’t help the breathless noises that left him — seeing you so worked up because of him, because of his actions, it was a completely new feeling.

“Saints, Kaz, you’re doing so good,” you panted. “Making me feel so fucking good.”

Your words made him whimper, although he’d take that detail to the grave, his face flushed. It felt good for him, too, to please you. Although he hadn’t touched himself, or let you touch him, just the friction of his pants was almost too much for him to handle, having never experienced masturbation — sometimes, he would wake up with sticky sheets, irritated and embarrassed.

He had spent so long refusing to give in to those dreams, the little thoughts of sex and pleasure and bodies against each other, and you had set loose something within him, the primal desires he'd been forced to ignore due to all he'd been through.

His hips thrust into nothing, the head of his cock leaking as it rubbed against the seam of his pants. You were the only person receiving any stimulation, and yet, he seemed more spent than you. It was endearing, hot and adorable at the same time.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you breathed. “Can you go a little faster?”

Kaz nodded, using two fingers to pump in and out of your pussy, picking up the pace as you’d requested.

It didn’t take long for that sensation to build in your belly, your sounds of pleasure growing louder, more frequent. You came with a shout of his name, and although his cock had remained untouched, he followed you soon after.

His expression was completely shocked, having experienced his first ever orgasm, at least, while awake, and making a conscious effort to make it occur.

You giggled as you came down from your high, looking fondly at his flushed, surprised face. It was an unbelievable honor to see Kaz Brekker at his most vulnerable.

“Did you…?”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his tone attempting to be stern, and completely failing as his voice shook and his mouth fought to curl into a smile.

And you just laughed again, catching a glimpse of his glove, slick with your cum. “I think you’ll be needing a new pair.”

Kaz looked down at his hands and laughed, too. "I suppose I will."

He didn't seem to mind.

It wasn’t a perfect, passionate night of sloppy kisses and skin slapping skin, but Kaz had made an effort to shed his armor for you, to face his fear of intimacy, and touch.

And that little loophole was just the beginning.

(maybe a part 2...?)

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker smut #ophelia's fics

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crowsnqueens · 11 months

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Bibliophile; Pt. i

Kaz Brekker x Bibliophile!wife!reader

Summary: Kaz returns from a meeting to find his wife (that was meant to attend) with a book in her hand and a drink at her side. Unfortunately, a fellow crow sees their interaction and is itching to find out more.

an: i had so much fun writing this bro y’all don’t even KNOW

Warnings: Kaz can tolerate reader’s touch, alcohol and drinking it, little bit of irritated Kaz, fluff for DAYS, reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as female, marriage??, the book “The Language of Thorns” is presumed in canon, the crows are about 22 in this (which is what i imagine to be in the show), OOC Kaz (i tried y’all) I may have missed some 💁🏻‍♀️but enjoy!!

Kaz sighed as he scanned the room for his wife, finding that she was in fact, not present.

“Have any of you seen Y/n?” he tooka large breath,”Never mind, let’s continue.”

“But boss, doesn’t she have a big chunk of the job?” Jesper swirled a pistol around his fingers then re-holstered the weapon with ease and precision.

“I can inform her later.” His teeth slightly grit, his hands working in the beginnings of a loose fist.

“As we were…”

Once the meeting was finished, Kaz gathered up the papers to re-place them back with his files, and shrugged his coat off. Descending the stairs of the slat, he noticed some of the books on the shelf had slanted in their places, as if a support had been pulled from under them.

Curious, he smirked.

he decended the stairs further to the crow club’s nightly regulars either gambling or drinking, conversing or laughing, scheming or wishing. But among them all, he found a familiar face in a quiet secluded corner, with a book and a glass of Kvas.

Continuing his way across the floor of his club, he stopped to ask one of the other Dregs about the upcoming job.

Slowly from her corner, Y/n heard a certain man’s voice and found him in discussion with the woman who tended the bar named Sylvi. They were presumably discussing a new job or a previous one, but nothing other than work. She knew that, but she still couldn’t help but keep an eye on the interaction.

Eventually she grew tired of surveying her husband’s every move, and returned to her book. “The Language of Thorns” is a collection of six fairytales and myths she had been read as a child, and when she found it on the shelf she just had to reread it.

“You look invested.” Kaz’s voice softened from his previous tone with the other woman.

“Oh I am, this book is very good. I used to read it quite a lot when I was young.” She smiled over the top of the book, knowing exactly what he would bring up next.

“Was there anything else you needed to do or, attend possibly, this evening? That you perhaps weren’t there for?”

“Oh there was this meeting, yes, my dear husband told my to meet him at 9 bells and it must have slipped my mind.” She smirked in the taller boy’s direction over her book.

“I’ll make sure to tell him about your predicament.” Kaz sat beside his wife, grabbing her hand that was laying on the couch.

“She is forgiven.” He placed a kiss to her knuckles and smiled lightly at her.

“Thank you, Mijn liefje.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and Kaz kissed her head.

“Of course, schatje.”

Little did the two know, a sharpshooter watched and observed their interaction, slowly piecing together that their relationship entailed more than expected.

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #kazzle dazzle #kaz x wife! reader

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pretty-little-mind33 · 11 months

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Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Summary: Kaz Brekker isn't insecure.

Genre: Angst (happy ending), hurt/comfort

Warnings: Canon like violence, mentions of blood

Kaz Brekker wasn't an insecure man.

To survive inside The Barrel, insecurities weren't a freedom him or his Crows had since insecurity meant weakness, and weakness meant death.

However, Kaz would rather die a million times over than watch you touch Matthias so tenderly again.

It isn't your fault — it was his plan : an admittedly reckless plan that ended with the need for your healing. Your touch. Still, Kaz stands silently in the corner of the room, jaw clenched, as you slowly move Matthias's shirt over his head and hover your palms over his wound.

"You do know that's her job?" Jesper points out, cleaning his guns as he stands next to Kaz, "This is why you hired her, remember? So she could heal us."

"I know." Kaz says, stoically.

"Then try not to look like you want to snap his neck. He's already beaten up because of you." Jesper sounds annoyed and Kaz can't blame him. This was on him. His thirst for money almost killed his Crows. Killed you. Watching your hand smooth down Matthias's hair, a small smile curling your lips, Kaz's hands tremble on his cane. A familiar nauseous sensation starts in his stomach and moves up his throat until his skin pales and Jesper, although exasperated, asks him if he's okay.

He's not okay, and he wants to tell Jesper — scream it out — but all Kaz does is nod curtly. He turns around and almost bumps into Nina as he leaves the room.

The door slams behind him causing you to look up from your work, confused, as Nina asks, "What's got his knickers in a twist?"

She continues with a smirk, "Poor boy's heart was almost pounding out of his chest," Nina looks at you for a moment. You hadn't even noticed Kaz and Jesper, too busy tending to Matthias and your heart sinks. All you can think about now is if Kaz is okay.

Is he hurt and just didn't want to tell you?

"Here," You say, handing Matthias his shirt and squeezing his shoulder, "You'll live." Matthias smiles a little as Nina stands by his side, holding his hand and leaning over to whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

You hurry to Jesper, "Jes," You start, rocking onto your toes to look at the closed door behind him, "Where'd the boss go? Is he hurt?" You ask, concerned for Kaz's health. Jesper looks at you and you can visibly see the wheels in his head turn.

"Jesper, tell me." You demand.

You had been the last Crow to join Kaz's crew — their "little crow" as Jesper liked to tease — so you had grown used to, sometimes, being left out of conversations. You knew it would take the team a while to completely trust you, and even with Inej's reassurance that she'd never seen Kaz trust someone as quickly as he trusted you, you still felt like the weak link.

The seventh crow.

The odd man out.

"He's being a child." Jesper says after consideration. You frown, nose scrunching in disapproval, and decide to push past him. Jesper calls your name in warning but you don't listen. You walk out into the main hall of the club, Matthias's blood still stained on your dress, and make your way to Kaz's office. The one place you knew he'd be.

Inej walks out just as you prepare to knock.

"Y/n," She says, eyes widening, as she pulls down her hood.

"Inej," You say, your cheeks burning, as an embarrassing feeling of jealousy stirs in your chest. It disappears when you look inside Kaz's office to see him leaning against his chair, his coat and hat put away, and he looks upset, "Is he okay? I just want to make sure he's not injured."

Inej looks behind her and then she turns to you, "I think he just needs someone to talk to." She smiles.

You nod silently. When Inej leaves, you breathe steadily and prepare yourself.

"Boss?" You whisper, knuckles brushing the open door and when Kaz tenses, you wince.

"Y/n." He turns around. Your eyes glance at his gloved hands, and you're suddenly aware of how dry your throat is, "What do you want?" His voice is curt, unemotional and, if you didn't know Kaz like you did, hurtful.

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't need me," Quickly, you show him your hands to emphasize your point. Kaz doesn't move, his blue eyes locked onto yours.

"How is Matthias?"

Honestly, Kaz couldn't care less about Matthias. Of course he doesn't want him dead, but he can't shake the image of your hand on Matthias's chest and every time, he wants to puke.

Kaz wouldn't admit this but he wishes he could touch you, or that you could touch him. It felt so unfair : having you stand in front of him and him being unable to take your hand, kiss your lips, hold you in his arms. Kaz almost wishes that if he can't, no one could.

But, he doesn't mean it — he knows you're too kind, too delicate, to deprive of someone worthy to love and to love you.

"He'll live." You restate. You look at Kaz more closely, "Are you sure you're okay? Your shirt is torn," You point at the small tear near Kaz's side. Kaz tenses. He had seen the wound but knew no one could help, so he didn't want to worry anyone.

"I'm fine," He says, stepping away from you when you try to move towards him. Your arm hangs in mid-air, cheeks flushed warm, as your heart thumps painfully. You withdraw and hold your hand to your chest, staring at Kaz's injury.

Kaz never let you heal him and as hard as you tried, you couldn't understand why.

He'd hired you because you were a healer. A runaway Grisha in need of a job and a home. Kaz had generously taken you in (upon Nina's insistence), but now you can't help but wonder if he regrets his decision. After all, it's obvious he doesn't trust you to help him.

Kaz sees the hurt in your eyes and he hates himself. How can he explain his situation without sounding embarrassingly weak? Being weak is the last thing he wants to be in front of you.

"Okay." You whisper and turn around. Kaz doesn't try and stop you. Instead he also turns around and waits until he hears the door close. When he does, he almost lets his mask crumble.

Almost.

* * *

Kaz's plans were always dangerous.

Kaz knew this, but he also knew they were always more dangerous for you than for anyone else. As a healer, you knew the basics of self-defense, but mostly your job consisted of tending to the injuries after the conflict.

So, more often than none, Kaz insisted you stay behind.

Only, as time went on you didn't want to wait around as your friends put themselves in danger. You wanted to help, and luckily you had protested Kaz's orders this time because the moment a knife sunk into his stomach and he collapsed onto the ground, you were rushing to his side.

"Kaz!" You exclaim, sliding to kneel next to him. Your arms are at your sides so you wouldn't accidentally touch him. You grab his cane and hold it close as you watch the crimson seep through Kaz's gloved fingers. He looks so scared.

"Kaz," You say, softer this time.

"Y/n! Watch out!" Inej shouts from somewhere behind you.

Before you can even think to turn around, one of Pekka Rollin's men grips your hair and starts to harshly drag you away from Kaz. You kick and scream, nails scratching at the man's hand. You need to heal Kaz. Clutching his cane, you muster as much strength as you can and hit the man behind you until he stumbles and you manage to pull yourself away from him.

You almost throw yourself back to where Kaz is and without hesitation, you rest your hands around his wound. Kaz inhales and his eyes squeeze shut: both from the pain and the sensation of someone's touch.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You plead as you try to heal him as quickly as possible. In any normal situation, you would never touch him like this: without his permission. You feel awful, "Please, Kaz, be okay." You mutter.

Kaz is clearly uncomfortable but, finally, when you see his eyes clear from any pain, he's instantly pushing you away from him. It's an instinct so you blame him when you stumble over.

You watch him almost curl into himself and your chest tightens. You want to cry.

You don't have time to cry as the man who'd attacked you just a few minutes earlier harshly pulls you off the ground. You aren't quick enough to snatch Kaz's cane off the ground and you yelp, "If you struggled less than this would be much easier, witch." The man snaps, crushing you into his chest, and you hiss in pain.

However, the man mustn't have seen that you'd healed Kaz in time, because when Kaz's cane slams into his mouth, he's taken by surprise and crashes into the wall: knocked out cold. The man's blood sprinkled on your cheek, you crouch down to cover your ears as the last of Jesper's gun-shots blast loudly into the air and suddenly the night is silent. You hold your head, still throbbing from the pain, and look up:

Kaz clutches his cane in one hand. While he stands a little unevenly, color has returned to his face and he doesn't look like he's two minutes from death anymore. Still, his chin is bruised purple and his left cheekbone is oddly swollen.

When Kaz looks at you with an odd expression of worry and annoyance, since the guilt has sunken in, you stand and avoid his stare.

"Y/n!" Jesper exclaims and swoops you up from behind. He holds you close and you bury your nose into his shoulder, "Saints, you scared me." Lifting your head, you look behind him as Inej, Nina, Matthias, and Wylan gather around.

When Jesper reluctantly releases you, he turns to glance at Inej. They seem concerned at how emotionless Kaz looks for someone who almost died.

Kaz looks at them, then at you quickly, and his lips twitch. He looks at the ground and, holding his cane, he limps past everyone. "Come." He orders.

The more Kaz walks, the more he feels sick. He shouldn't since the wound has completely disappeared and he doesn't feel any pain anymore. You had done your job. You had healed him. You had touched him.

He shivers and wishes his heart would calm down.

Kaz doesn't hate you. He's not even mad. You didn't have a choice — or you did, but he most likely would have died if you hadn't jumped in in time. Honestly, he's more disgusted with himself that he couldn't enjoy your touch: which is something he's wished to feel so badly.

He's also incredibly upset because his plan failed — for the second time — and, maybe more than anything else, Kaz is furious that Pekka Rollin's men had the opportunity to lay their hands on you.

* * *

Upon your return to the Crow Bar, you had gone around and mended any little scratches or aches anyone had and now you sat in a corner, an anxious bundle of guilt and nerves. You pick at your nails as you replay what happened in your head, over and over again until it's all you can think about.

You fear Kaz will throw you out into the street with nothing. You'd broken an important boundary and knowing Kaz, he'd be capable of doing so without remorse. So, lost in your anxiety, you don't hear someone call your name,

"Y/n,"

Your face falls. "Boss!" You exclaim, standing up, as you try and look composed and certainly not like the absolute mess you were.

Kaz looks at you blankly, a look that now feels incredibly intimidating. He doesn't speak and instead he just nods his head towards his office door. You follow him quickly. Inside Kaz's office, the air seems thicker and the light is dim. He turns just as you close the door. You look at him, prepared for the worst.

"I'm sorry." Kaz says seriously, it sounds like those two words had been rehearsed a thousand times. His hands hold his cane so tightly you can almost hear the leather of his gloves squeeze, "You shouldn't have been involved in this mission."

You feel like someone has ripped your heart out of your chest, slowly squeezing until you could pass out.

"I understand that I shouldn't have crossed that boundary," You start and then you pause, "But Kaz," You look up at him, desperate for him to understand, "You could have died. I was panicking, that mean man had me by my hair and you weren't really aware of your surroundings anymore. I had to do something. I couldn't lose you."

It's almost like Kaz's shocked expression in response to your sudden admission of endearment mirrors your own. Your eyes widen and your mouth slowly closes as you stand extremely still, almost like you're hoping you'll disappear.

It feels like an eternity before Kaz speaks and judging by how calculated his words sound, you can tell he's making sure to say the right thing, "And I," He takes a sharp breath as you hold yours, "can't lose you."

You stare at him curiously. Caring words sound so unfamiliar coming from Kaz Brekker: he infamous Bastard Of The Barrel. You don't know how to feel.

"I understand." You lie.

"No. No. You don't understand." Kaz interrupts and he looks so serious. His posture is tense and, as you stand in front of him, you worry that something has suddenly gone wrong, "I couldn't care less about you being our healer." He explains.

Then what do you care about? You think.

Kaz answers your question almost like you'd asked him aloud, "I care about you. I worry about you. You consume my every thought,"

You feel like air isn't even available anymore and the tension is palpable. You didn't realize how close you're standing to Kaz until his gloved hand brushes lightly against your cheek, touching where the small specks of blood still lay. You turn your head so his hand can't touch you.

"Kaz, you really don't,"

"I want to." He whispers, voice smooth, "I want you." He sounds so innocent.

His hand lingers, until Kaz pulls it away and flexes his fingers. You can see him panic just a little and your eyes soften. You don't want him to push himself for you.

"Your aversion towards touch doesn't bother me, you know." You say, "I don't know exactly why you don't like it, or why you wear those gloves like your armor, but it doesn't matter. I still like you."

Kaz's eyebrows crease in confusion. Like him? An unusual spark ignites in his chest but he stays as emotionless as possible in fear of disappointment, "And that means?"

You're suddenly embarrassed. Did you read this wrong? Does he not want you like you thought he does? "I mean, I - I don't know how to say this - I want you?" You say, hoping that if he'd meant his words in that way, he'll understand.

Calmness washes over Kaz and for once, his armor starts to slip. He stands a little taller and his shoulders slack as a strong, unusual, feeling swells in his chest. He looks at you with utmost care. His eyes flick from feature to feature. He admires the creases around your eyes, the way your hair falls, the way you carry yourself with confidence and caution. His eyes move to your lips: something he knows he can't touch. At least not now, he tells himself because if he doesn't he might go mad with grief. He inhales and exhales slowly, thinking of his answer very carefully,

"I would give you the world, love." He says. It's a statement. A fact he would realize if he'd been born with money and status. He'd make you his Queen, "If I could." He adds quietly.

You feel warmth spread across your body and you ache to hold him. You settle for a smile instead. "I already have the world, Kaz Brekker." You admit and maybe for the second time since you've known him, Kaz cracks smiles. A real smile, not his crooked smirks or his sarcastic sneers. A tender smile, almost uncharacteristic and bizarre but nonetheless, a smile you wish to see more often.

No, Kaz Brekker, Bastard Of The Barrel — Dirtyhands himself — isn't an insecure man. He has no insecurities, and certainly no weaknesses.

That had all been true once. Now? Now, his one weakness is you and Kaz would make damn sure that no one ever even thinks of touching his weakness ever again.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x fem!reader #shadow and bone #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine

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thebadgerclan · 1 year

Text

Reunited

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sister!reader, Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: After 15 years, you are reunited with your brother...

Part 2 to “Sister”

A/N: I appreciate all the love that “Sister” got, but I will be capping this at 2 parts. School is, unfortunately, more important than fanfiction 😂❤

Also yes I made Wesper married, I fucked with canon enough, enjoy

The King of Ravka watched as you shrugged off your silk dressing gown and joined him in bed, opening his arms to you. “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” you said, extinguishing the lamp on your bedside table. “My brother’s coming to town.” Nikolai raised a brow. “He is? Why?” “Apparently he and his friends have been hired for a job. A job they need my assistance for.” The King cocked his head as you snuggled into his chest. “What kind of job?” “All I know is that they need to get into the Religious Archives alone. Beyond that, I have no idea.”

You’d told your husband about your brothers, about Hertzoon, how you’d come to Ravka shortly after your wedding. It was only thanks to Nikolai, well, thanks to Sturmhond, that you’d been able to locate your brother and contact him. Over the span of several months, you and Kaz had caught up on the 15 years of lost time, learned everything you’d missed on. You’d discovered that your eldest brother, Jordie, had not survived, that Kaz had risen to prominence in the Barrel and was set on bringing Rollins, the man who had masqueraded as Jakob Hertzoon, to his knees.

And Kaz had learned that you were Queen of Ravka. Part of him seethed with jealousy: you’d been brought up in the lap of luxury while he’d had to fight for every scrap, every penny, but he supposed he couldn’t be angry at you for that. And your position had turned out to be a boon to he and his Crows; giving him a way into the Religious Archives. As soon as Kaz had received the letter confirming you’d help, he’d gathered his flock and set off for Ravka.

***

“You’re fussing.” “I am not fussing.” “Yes, you are, my love.” Nikolai took your hands, pulling them from where you’d been fidgeting with your hair, drawing your attention to him. “I haven’t seen my brother in 15 years,” you said, letting your nerves bubble over. “I don’t even know what he looks like now, let alone what he’s like. Saints, I don’t even know wha-” “Hey, hey,” your husband soothed, kissing your forehead. “Take a breath, lovely.

“I know that you’re nervous, and I know that you’re a little bit scared, but I promise you that everything will be alright. He’s your brother, and even though it’s been a long time, that hasn’t changed. Just be yourself, Y/N, he’ll love you.” Before you could respond, before your thoughts could spiral, the doors to the receiving chambers opened.

“Presenting Mister Kaz Brekker, Miss Inej Ghafa, Mister Jesper Fahey, Mister Wylan Fahey, Miss Nina Zenik, and Mister Matthias Helvar.” Your brother and his companions entered, and the guard bowed to you. “His Most Royal Majesty, Nikolai Lantsov, and Her Most Royal Majesty, Queen Y/N Lantsov.” With another bow, the guard departed, leaving the eight of you alone.

“It’s really you,” Kaz said, both to you and himself. Gone was the little girl from Lij, afraid of the bustle of Ketterdam. In her place stood a woman; a regal, beautiful woman, clothed in sky blue silk and diamonds, a Queen. “It is,” you said, a tearful smile on your face. When you stepped forward, arms extended, hoping for an embrace, your brother stepped back, drawing a sharp breath. At once, you recalled one of his letters: Since that night on the Barge, I can’t bear to touch anyone. Every time I brush against someone, I’m right back there with Jordie.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, quickly composing yourself. “These must be your friends you’ve told me all about.” Kaz cleared his throat. “Yes. Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Nina, and Matthias.” Nina was the only one who dipped into a curtsey; as she was the only one who recognized you as her Queen. “Please, sit. I gather we have much to discuss.” Nikolai seated himself with you on a loveseat, and your brother and his Crows gathered around. Your husband and Jesper fell into easy conversation, and you smiled when he took your hand.

“So Kaz,” you said, clearing your throat. “Tell me about this job in the archives.” “A Shu priest claims that the remains of one of Sankt Kho’s clockwork soldiers resided in the archives,” he said. “We’ve been tasked with returning it.” You nodded, rising to pour yourself tea. “There are indeed remains here, but whether they’re authentic is unclear. Only a highly skilled Durast could tell, and even then it’s not certain.”

Kaz nodded, slowly spinning his cane between his hands. “The priest said as much. We’ve been guaranteed payment even if the remains aren’t genuine.” “That’s all well and good, but how do you plan to conceal the fact that you’re taking the remains? Those Archives are open to the public, people will notice their absence.” Your brother rolled his eyes. “If only I’d thought of that. Jesper.”

The lanky Zemini stood and opened the satchel as his side, showing you what lay within. “I happen to have Durast on my team,” Kaz said. “One who has become rather proficient in replication. It’s not perfect, but to a casual viewer, even a monk, it’s identical. If the clockwork soldier’s remains are real, then you have a nearly perfect replica. If they’re a fake, then you’ve got yourself a new fake.”

You nodded. This wasn’t the first heist your brother and his team had pulled off, you knew, but it was fascinating to watch his mind at work. “Very well. I can get you in at 10 bells tonight, but you have to be out by 1 bell.” Kaz nodded. “Done.” You rose and called for a servant, who entered an instant later. “Please show Miss Ghafa, Miss Zenik, Mister Helvar, and the Misters Fahey to rooms where they can rest. I wish to speak to Mister Brekker.” “Of course, moya tsaritsa.”

When it was just you, Kaz, and Nikolai, you resumed your seat. Your husband sensed your nervousness and took your hand, kissing it softly. “Did you ever think about me?” you asked, your gaze in your lap. “After I left?” “Of course I did,” your brother replied. “Every single day, Y/N. You and Jordie. I swore that I’d get revenge for you, and maybe with this job, I’ll be one step closer.” You lifted you face to find Kaz looking at you, and for a moment, it was like you were back in Ketterdam.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “You have suffered so much, and I…” You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “I grew up with every privilege, anything and everything I could ever want. But I never forgot about you, Kaz. Or Jordie. Even when I didn’t know if you’d survived, I prayed for you. To the Saints, to Ghezen, to anyone who’d listen. And I am so, so sorry for everything you’ve gone through, and if I’d known, I’d ha-”

“Y/N,” Kaz said, leaning across the space between you and taking your hand. You froze, knowing how much effort this was likely taking him. “Y/N, you don’t have to apologize to me. What happened to us, to me, no one could have stopped it. Yes, I’ve suffered, but I’ve also fought for what I have. And I’m so damn grateful that you didn’t have to suffer, that you didn’t have to fight. Look at you; happy and healthy, a husband who loves you, you’re a Queen. And if an ounce of my suffering bought you this happiness, then I am glad to have done it.”

Cautiously, you took his hand in both of yours, and while he squeezed his eyes shut, he did not pull away. “Kaz, I–” “You’re still my baby sister, Y/N,” he interrupted. “Queen or not. And I will do whatever I can to protect my baby sister.” “By 1 year!” you said, and your brother laughed. You and Kaz rose at once, and to your great surprise, he pulled you into his arms. “I love you,” he said. “Sister, I love you.” “I love you too, Kaz,” you replied, tears spilling over.

When you broke the embrace, Nikolai extended a hand, which Kaz took, clasping it for a bare second. “You know,” your husband said. “If you ever want to get rid of this ‘Pekka Rollins’, I might be able to help with that.” Kaz cocked his head. “How so?” “Well, he is indirectly responsible for your brother’s death, am I right?” A nod. “In that case, he’s responsible for the death of the Queen of Ravka’s brother, which is punishable by life imprisonment.”

Kaz nodded. “I appreciate the offer,” he said, adjusting his hold in his cane. “But when Pekka Rollins is brought down, I want it to be at my hand. For Jordie.” He looked at you, smiling softly. “And for Y/N.” Nikolai nodded. “Very well. But should you change your mind, the offer still stands.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” Your brother and husband exchanged a few more words before the former departed, leaving you and Nikolai in the receiving chamber. “Do you think they’ll pull it off?” he asked, draping an arm over your shoulder. “He’s Kaz Brekker,” you responded. “Of course he will.”

#kaz brekker x reader #platonic ship #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone reader insert

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auroravictorium · 1 year

Text

high infidelity (pt. 2) (k.b.)

do i really have to chart the constellations in her eyes?

Summary: the crows arrive to help reader, and kaz finally gets his revenge. once reader is in safe hands, kaz is forced to make a decision on where to take her to heal.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: LOTS of blood and violence (stabbing, vague description of gutting someone), death of non-canon character(s), use of guns, shooting, lots of pain, shrapnel

Genre: angst and action

Author's Note: again, PLEASE read the warnings if you haven't! here is part two of high infidelity, told from kaz's pov :)) enjoy!

part one

Kaz marched down the final row of warehouses, his expression stormy and eyes dark with fury. His leg throbbed from all the walking, but he pressed on with a soldier's determination. He was treating this like any other job, trying as hard as he could to not let his growing panic show. But it swelled to his ankles like he was wading through the cold sea despite his attempts to ignore it. It threatened to slow his steps, and a rough wave tried to crush his chest every now and then when they found yet another empty warehouse.

Each abandoned building broke the dam holding back his emotions a little more. Kaz felt himself swimming away from the shore, plunging into the water's depths. He couldn't help but wonder if you were still in Kerch. Had the Crows come too late? Had Inej's fears of the mercenaries passing you to slavers come true?

Is she still alive? Will I find her as a corpse?

The questions, persistent and growing louder in his mind, sent a shudder down his spine that he tried to hide with his quick pace.

His sleep in the past near-week was restless. His recent nightmares hadn't contained bodies with Jordie's face. They'd all been you, beaten and bruised and twisted into odd angles. Each dream was a taunt, a condemnation of Kaz's failure thus far to find you, and a nauseating mix of every fear he'd ever had.

Kaz had to stop walking as last night's dream came to mind. You, black and blue and broken, while Kaz was powerless to stop it. His shoulder slammed into the brick wall of a building, jolting him out of his thoughts before his dream self could scream, and Kaz lowered his head as he fought against his traitorous lungs. His fingers tightened around the crow's head of his cane, letting the detailed metal grooves dig into his palm through his glove. He fought to breathe past the lump growing in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the grimy, empty avenue of warehouses.

Shit, Brekker. What is wrong with you?

It was the first time he'd admitted that to himself since Kaz Brekker emerged from the harbor ten years ago. Since then, he'd never allowed himself any moment of weakness. He couldn't; weakness was for children, people who hoped, who dared to dream of good things. His weakness killed his brother. If Kaz couldn't pull himself together, it would kill you too.

"Boss-," Jesper began, stepping beside Kaz and peering at his face. Jes opened his mouth to tell Kaz they would find her, that they had to be getting close. A finite number of warehouses sat on the street, and the Crows would find Pekka and the mercenaries if they were there. And if they weren't, they would track them down.

A loud scream echoed down the street, cutting Jesper off and making him turn his head toward the sound.

It was a scream of pure agony, the kind that made the heart feel like it might split in two, made legs feel like they may collapse, made horror choke the air from your lungs and hold it captive. It was a sound and a feeling Kaz had experienced only once, as a blade pierced your chest nine months ago.

It was a sound Kaz wished he would never have to hear again.

Kaz unhitched himself from the wall and ran toward the sound. He forgot about the pain in his leg, his panic, his worry that they'd never find you. He didn't even register Inej, Jesper, and Nina sprinting behind him, their shoes pounding against the cobbled ground. All Kaz could think about was you, your wail of agony, his desperation to get to you.

He skidded to a stop outside the warehouse, finding a set of double doors with a padlock and chains looped through the handles. "Sons of-" Kaz snarled, raising his cane as if he meant to swing it downward. It wouldn't do anything, but he didn't care. His worry had yielded to white-hot fury that muddled his mind and made him think only of the vengeance he was about to inflict. It burned beneath his skin, anger red as the blood rushing in his ears and muffling his hearing.

A hand interrupted the swing, catching the cane's head and gently pushing it down. "Move," Jesper said. He slipped between Kaz and the door as the former moved away, seething. Jes pressed his hands to the lock and warped it until it fell to the ground, deformed and useless. He ripped the chains from the handles and dropped them next to the hunk of metal before pulling his pistols from their holsters.

"What do you want us to do, Brekker?" Nina murmured, reaching out to feel for the heartbeats of those inside. One was irregular, accented by the fast, shallow breathing of panic and pain. "Four of them, and Y/N."

"I take Pekka. You three kill the mercenaries and get to Y/N." Kaz slipped a phosphorous bomb from his coat pocket and weighed it in his hand. His gaze was fixed on the door, filled with rage cold enough to freeze over the True Sea. "No mourners."

"No funerals," Jesper grunted. "Let's kill these bastards." He kicked the door open and moved inside, twirling his guns in his fingers. His eyes fought to adjust to the dim lighting, straining through the cloudy darkness, and Jesper blinked furiously to clear his vision. He spotted Y/N across the room, clearly injured and ill but alive, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he aimed his pistols at the four figures gathered around a table.

Kaz threw his smoke bomb down and made a beeline for Pekka Rollins as the air filled with smoke. Pistols fired and metal scraped against metal; the sound echoed off the warehouse walls, accented by the sound of the Crows and mercenaries launching at each other. Someone hit the ground with a loud groan that lapsed into silence; Kaz could only hope it wasn't one of his Crows or, Saints forbid, you. To make it this far, only to fail, would be his breaking point.

Kaz tackled Pekka out of his chair, barely registering the clatter of a filled gun against the stone ground as it fell from Pekka's hand. Their bodies collided against the floor, skin scraping and bones groaning from the impact; Pekka grunted and rolled, trying to shove Kaz off of him and retrieve his gun.

But Kaz was already swinging, bashing his fists down again and again against any part of Pekka he could hit. His face, his throat, his chest. His punches were sloppy, his vision blurred by bright red anger and the image of Y/N bound to a support beam on replay. Blood on her skin, bruises everywhere he could see and definitely where he couldn't. The memories she would have to live with and the nightmares that would plague her.

He could hardly see through his simmering rage, and he secured his gloved hands around Pekka's throat and squeezed. Nothing would drive his anger away like the sight of Pekka's life leaving his face, light draining from his eyes as death swept over him like a heavy cloak.

Pekka seethed and grabbed Kaz's wrists, struggling to shove them away. But his grip was iron, locked in place through the sheer force of his wrath as everything Pekka had taken from him flashed before his eyes. His money. His brother. His Crows. You.

You you you you you.

Your laugh, replaced by an agonizing scream. Your smile, replaced by a grimace of pain. Your soul, too kind for the Barrel and certainly more than Kaz deserved, cracked or even shattered by whatever the mercenaries and Pekka had done to you.

Kaz's breathing came fast and hard, his teeth gritted together as he pushed as much of his weight down onto Pekka's windpipe as he could. "You killed my brother," he snarled, watching Pekka's eyes bulge and his face redden from lack of oxygen. "You hurt my Crows. You took my love. You made me think that to care was a weakness, to let someone in was a death sentence." He dug his fingertips into Pekka's throat so violently that his arms shook with the wrath he wanted to inflict. "I've let you think you're king for too long. I've let you win. But no more."

Pekka lifted his fist and slammed it into Kaz's ribs. Kaz grunted but didn't break, even as pain sparked through his chest. He forced a smile as he leaned down to get nose-to-nose with Pekka. "You'll have to do much worse, Rollins," he breathed. "You've made me immune to your tricks, and I fear you've run out of them."

He removed a hand from Pekka's throat and brought it down on Pekka's wrist, bashing his hand back to the floor as Pekka pulled the trigger on the gun he'd barely managed to reach. The bullet shot wildly into the air, flying somewhere past Kaz and shattering a window. Cold air rushed into the warehouse, nipping at the back of Kaz's neck.

Kaz wrenched the pistol from Pekka's hand, unloaded it, and slammed the butt of it down against the older man's palm in one swift movement. Bone crunched beneath the impact with a sickening, nauseating snap, and Pekka groaned. The veins of his neck bulged against Kaz's hand, and Kaz wanted to laugh. That's the least of what I want to do, old man.

"You don't know what you're getting into, boy," Pekka wheezed, bringing his unbroken hand up to try and pull Kaz's hand from his throat. He dug his nails into the skin of Kaz's wrist in the struggle, dousing Kaz in ice-cold water that soaked his clothes and froze him to his bones.

Kaz released Pekka's throat before he could stop himself, thrown off kilter by the contact. Slimy fingers. Touching. Lifeless but trying to shove his head beneath the water. Harbor filling his lungs.

Weak. That's all Kaz felt as his vengeance stood suspended in time, replaced by the simultaneous urges to vomit or inflict so much violence that even his rising panic would cower. One touch, one unsuspecting brush of fingertips against skin, and every victory he'd reached over his past was wiped away. Your pride went undeserved, and your words of encouragement crumbled to dust.

Pekka shoved Kaz to the ground and struggled to his feet, cradling his broken hand to his chest. He lifted a hand to his throat to massage the bruising skin. His tongue swiped over his cracked lips as he looked down at Kaz, clutching his cane and breathing hard as he pushed himself back to his feet.

"A damned shame you came all this way for her," Pekka rasped, dropping his hand from his throat. He unbuttoned his disheveled vest and shrugged out of it, tossing it to the side. "Now she has to watch you die, and she won't even be able to give you a rat's burial in the Harbor."

Kaz didn't give Pekka the dignity of a response, lifting his cane and lurching toward him again. He swung, and the metal crow cut through empty space as Pekka dodged and reached for Kaz to push him back toward the wall; the cane fell from Kaz's hands and rolled a few feet away. Kaz grunted as his back collided with the wall, and his head jerked to the side as Pekka punched him. Hard.

Blood filled Kaz's mouth, and his jaw seared with pain as he probed the swelling flesh of his cheek with his tongue. Despite the pain, the promise of death written in Pekka's eyes, Kaz laughed. A mirthless, mocking sound that he couldn't bring himself to cut short, even as Pekka pulled another gun from the back of his waistband and held it to Kaz's throat. But his arm was unsteady, his hand trembling with the gun there. As if he'd never held it before.

Kaz didn't so much as flinch, meeting Pekka's murderous gaze with one of his own. "Do it," he said quietly. "If you kill me now, you might have a fighting chance of getting out of here before my Crows are done with your precious mercenaries and turn their attention to you."

His gaze settled over Pekka's shoulder, landing on Jesper and Inej, fighting the tallest and most muscular of the mercenaries. His energy was waning, and Inej was gaining the upper hand as he attempted to deflect each of her swipes at him. Jesper approached from behind, pulling his rings from his fingers and molding them into sharp little spikes that flew out of his hands and straight into the mercenaries spine.

Past Inej, Jesper, and a dead mercenary with a shot through the forehead, Nina had her hands outstretched, strangling the last mercenary as he grappled with you for control over a weapon. He seized above you, unable to move, and the interruption allowed you to secure your hold and drive the dagger up into his chest. It took all of Kaz's self-control to not let any of his relief show as you shoved the mercenary off of you and knelt beside him to pull the blade from his chest.

Pekka followed Kaz's gaze, turning to look over his shoulder.

Got you, you twisted son of a bitch.

Kaz slipped a blade from his coat and slashed it across Pekka's chest. It parted his shirt and skin easily, and a dark red stain bloomed across his front. The intent was not to kill; just to surprise, buy a chance for Kaz to throw him off long enough to pull the single bullet from the cylinder. He had the bullet in his pocket before the dagger had left Pekka's skin.

Child's play.

Pekka whirled to face Kaz, a hiss of pain whistling through his teeth, and he unclicked the safety of his gun. He pried the dagger from Kaz's hand and tossed it to the ground with a clatter; his chest heaved from anger, and he jabbed the end of the gun into Kaz's throat hard enough to force a choked cough. "You're a fool, Brekker," Pekka snarled.

"Am I?" Kaz hissed back, jerking his chin toward Pekka's dwindling number of allies. Behind him, the fight was slowing; the clashing of weapons and grunting of pain had faded as the mercenaries fell at the hands of the Crows.

The final mercenary standing collapsed at Inej's feet, a slash across his throat spraying blood across the pristine stone floor. Jesper fired one of his pistols once, striking him just below the ear and silencing his cries instantly.

The mercenary at your knees twitched as death took hold, even as you cut him open from the navel to the sternum. From a few feet away, Nina was working to regulate your blood pressure, unwilling to let you die but unwilling to take your chance at revenge away from you. She would be there to catch you when you fell, as your blood pressure suddenly dropped and you teetered unsteadily, the knife slipping from your hands.

Pekka was alone, and he knew it. He would not be walking out of the warehouse. But would he die having killed Kaz Brekker, or would he die by Kaz Brekker's hand? Would Alby be proud, or would he be ashamed of his father's name?

"I once told you the trick to survival was not to love anyone," Kaz said quietly. He leaned closer, angling his head. The moonlight caught in his pale blue eyes, washing the color from them and letting Pekka see every speck of icy rage within. Kaz's bloodied lips curled into a smile before he could stop them. "I was wrong. The trick to survival is making enemies who are too foolish to check that their gun is loaded."

Pekka pulled the trigger as if he expected Kaz to be wrong. But no bullet loosed itself, no blood splattered the walls, and no sudden darkness enveloped Kaz. It was empty, the lone bullet sitting uselessly in Kaz's coat pocket. He'd been banned from every gambling hall in Ketterdam for a reason.

"You bastard," Pekka seethed. "How did you-?"

His gun suddenly exploded in his hand, crumbling into a variety of metal chunks that thumped to the floor. Some rose upward and shot toward Pekka's face, burying themselves into his skin and eyes and anywhere they could hit. Blood streamed down his face, and Pekka stumbled back, covering his eyes as he roared in pain and anger.

Kaz turned, finding Jesper with his hand outstretched. He was gasping, looking between his palm and Pekka as he hunched over and dug his fingers into his eyes as if he could pull the metal shards from them.

What the Saints did I do? Jesper thought, staring down at his fingers as power sang beneath his skin. One moment, he was thinking about Pekka's gun jamming, the next... Kaz's cane. He blinked and ducked down to grab Kaz's cane. "Finish it," Jesper said roughly, then tossed the cane to its owner. Before he could think too hard about the look of awe in Kaz's eyes, Jes turned and rushed toward Nina and Inej as they worked to start treating you.

Kaz secured his grip on his cane and jammed the end of it into Pekka's knees, toppling him to the ground. He crouched beside him, ignoring the searing pain in his leg, and tucked his cane under his arm. "I'll do you a favor," Kaz hissed, grabbing a fistful of Pekka's hair and jerking his head back. "I won't tell your precious prince how easily you fell."

He slammed Pekka's head into the ground. His nose crunched beneath the impact, and blood sprayed across the floor. Kaz pulled his head back up as Pekka panted, and silent, unheard pleas passed his lips. He tilted his head, meeting Pekka's terrified, unseeing gaze. "I won't give him the details. I'll even be merciful and make sure he doesn't end up on the streets."

Kaz could leave Alby Rollins to starve, to risk wasting away on the streets as news spread of his father's death. The Dime Lions' fortune was finite, easily spent or misallocated without a leader. Not a drop would end up with Alby; if any did, by some act of the Saints, he would be manipulated out of it before he had the chance to escape the city.

But as Kaz stared at Pekka, at the unintelligible pleas and prayers leaving his lips, he only heard your voice. He saw your wages leaving your hands, given to the very woman who had passed your name to the Dime Lions. All so she could escape Ketterdam's unforgiving violence and return to some lover, someplace safer and more secure.

It would have cost less for you to kill Amalia.

It would cost Kaz less if he didn't make this promise to Pekka before he killed him.

A lump rose in Kaz's throat as his battle against himself raged on. He didn't owe Pekka or Alby Rollins anything, and yet... He had to be close to the age Kaz had been when Jordie died. Just nine, on the cusp of ten, still hopeful that there was good in the world. It was almost poetic how the cycle of tragedies repeated itself.

"He won't end up on the streets," Kaz repeated. But his voice sounded far away to his own ears, and he hardly registered the relief flickering across Pekka's face. He was nine years old again with the firepox ravaging his body. Between one blink and the next, he would be moved from the streets to the Reaper's Barge. Then he was fourteen, breaking his leg during a bank heist. Sixteen, trailing a girl causing chaos in the wealthy side of the city and convincing her to join the Dregs. Seventeen, he was ignoring his feelings for that girl. Eighteen, he kissed her. Nineteen, he was burning Kerch to the ground to find her and killing the man who set all this into motion, good and bad, his hate and his love.

Beneath it all was one simple truth. We both are beyond saving.

But one unfortunate boy had fallen into the mix. Nine years old, his life and his father's in Kaz's hands. The same position the father had once been in, and he had made the wrong choice. Ripped Kaz's future from him with the stroke of his pen and threatened his yet unborn son's own.

Alby Rollins has a chance.

Kaz clenched his jaw and brought Pekka's head down into the stone floor with a sharp, sickening crack. Death was simple and quick, claiming Pekka Rollins between one moment and the next. It was as if he'd never existed, but the damage within the warehouse and outside of it said otherwise.

Kaz Brekker stood up and felt nothing at all, despite what had just happened. He turned and left Pekka's body behind him, limping over to his friends huddled around you. It was only when he saw the mess of bruises and blood across your skin that he realized he wasn't breathing, and his emotions flickered back to life as he knelt beside you and turned your right arm to the sky.

Horror, when he saw the damage, your tattoo slashed in half. Concern, when he saw the blood seeping from your arm despite Inej's attempts to patch it until Nina could get to it. Fear, when he saw your eyes slipping shut, your chest slowing its intake of air.

He didn't have enough space to allow his rage back in, enough air to feed its flames. All he felt was terror and the very real truth that you could die.

"Nina, her arm," Kaz said, trying to control his breathing. His lungs were speeding up without his permission, a mass of fear setting in his windpipe and threatening to choke him. "Jesper, the coach. Take Inej. Go."

Jesper rose from where he was bandaging a shallow cut on your other wrist, likely from your bindings, and Inej followed as he ran toward the warehouse doors.

Kaz dropped his cane and ripped a piece of fabric from the inner lining of his coat to start staunching the blood flowing from your arm, trying to buy Nina time as she worked on a gash on your head that Kaz hadn't noticed. He watched your eyes slip shut, and he forgot all about bandaging your cut arm.

No. You're not allowed to die.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it as if he could tether you here. With him. Long enough that he could free the hesitation and fear from his lungs and tell you exactly what he felt. How he blamed himself, how he was sorry, how he loved you, and how that love had consumed every cell of his body; how he breathed it in from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. How it soothed every wound, healed and fresh.

Kaz had to squeeze his eyes shut and look away as his breathing sped up from panic. I need you to live. "Nina," he rasped. He didn't know what he wanted to say to her. He only had words that he wished he could say to you. No room for anything, anyone else.

Not even Jordie's ghost, whom he was keenly aware of in the back of his mind.

"We need a place for the night. She won't make it back to Ketterdam." Nina's words were clipped, matter-of-fact as she traced her fingers down the deep cut down your forearm. A thin layer of skin knitted together to stop the bleeding, and Nina turned her attention back to the infection she could feel surging beneath your skin. "She needs water. Food. Rest."

Kaz nodded, a short dip of his chin. "Will she make it to Lij? Four hours from here if Jesper takes his time."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I hope the paths are clear."

The warehouse doors thudded open again, and Kaz glanced over his shoulder to find Inej gasping in the doorway as, behind her, Jesper sat atop the coach while the horses neighed and shook their manes in indignation. "C'mon!" Inej called. "Locals heard of a disturbance."

Kaz slid his arms underneath your shoulders and knees and carefully pulled you into his arms, letting Nina pick his cane up from a puddle of blood on the ground. The cold harbor nipped at his ankles and threatened to rise as he cradled you against his chest, occasionally glancing down at you as he limped out of the warehouse. Your head lulled backward, exposing the bruised skin of your throat, and Kaz had to look away, toward Inej as she pulled the coach door open and shielded your head with her hand as Kaz carefully lifted the both of you into the coach.

"Head just north of Lij," Kaz ordered, settling you on one of the plush coach seats and tugging his coat and vest off. He bunched up the vest beneath your head to act as a pillow and covered you up with his coat, bloodied side facing out. "No sightseeing."

Inej and Nina joined Kaz in the coach, and Nina carefully lifted your legs so she could sit at your feet and continue stabilizing you. Inej sat across from Nina and pulled her necklace from beneath her shirt, clutching it in her palm and turning her eyes to the sky. Meanwhile, Kaz sat in the spot across from your head and tried to avoid letting renewed sparks of rage consume him.

Outside the coach on the driver's bench, Jesper chewed on the inside of his cheek, turning his gaze firmly toward the horses before him instead of letting them linger on the puddles of blood he could see just beyond the warehouse doors.

Bruised, bloody, and seething, the Crows left Zierfoort, heading toward the town of Lij. None of them said a word the entire ride.

reader's pov (part 1)

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @marlene-the-witch, @thestudiouswanderer, @lyjen, @rideacowb0y, @weasleybuns, @dal-light, @mariatpwk, @dreammgc, @elysian-chaos, @breadbrobin, @poppyflower-22, @halfofagayallofaqueer, @battleraven, @amarokofficial, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @poppyflower-22, @madnessinwrighting, @ponyboys-sunsets, @circus-of-thoughts, @empresspenguin18, @mediocrestuff, @stonksman8, @alanis-altair, @thefandomplace, @alohastitch0626, @the-royal-paintbrush, @just-here-for-ff, @whos6claire, @jodiereedus22, @be-lla-vie, @despoinapav05, @arianyo, @willowpains, @geekmom3, @dark-academia-slut, @aeslenya, @directioner5life, @notjustsomeblonde, @osteopsycho, @travelingmypassion, @tiana76, @angelhxneyy, @princessatoru, @despoinapav05

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grandlinedreams · 8 months

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hello!! I've been reading your law works recently, and I absolutely love the way you write him- you just capture his character so well :,)

hopefully it's not too much to ask, but can you write about law/reader soulmate au? I don't have anything too specific in mind because i'm really not too good with making prompts 😔

maybe a bit angsty though? I would also prefer if it was in the canon setting, but modern au would be fine too :)

Thank you in advance!!

OH I'M A SUCKER FOR SOULMATE AUS as I've said before I think dkdjs my brain's still booting up for the day but absolutely!! Couldn't resist adding the quote I was thinking about yesterday because Law is so Kaz Brekker coded istg

[Heads up!: talk of soulmates/red string of fate, little bit of angst, fluff, the 'fell first vs fell harder' trope]

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

The question makes Law pause where he's in the middle of reading about a blood-borne pathogen, looking up and over. Splayed out over his bed with your own book in your hand, you stare back. He frowns.

"Why are you asking?"

You shrug. "It's in this book," you say, "It's talking about how there's different ways to look at it. If they're two pieces of the same soul just separated and always trying to make it back to each other, or if something called a string of fate ties them together."

Law makes a noise in the back of his throat. "That sounds ridiculous."

"So you don't believe in them?"

"No." He watches you for a moment, studying you. "Do you?"

You hum, lifting one of your hands and focusing on your pinky. You can almost see it, the neat knot of red tied around the knuckle, string that loops and weaves aimlessly through the air. If such a thing exists, you wonder where it leads, then about where you wish it would.

"No," you answer at last, "I suppose I don't."

ㅡ

If Law lets himself think about fate tying you to him with red string, it's far less romantic. But there must be something that keeps you in his orbit, silent pull to bind you to him.

It scares him. Scares him for how badly he wants to let you in, expose soft underbelly and trust you won't sink your teeth in and rip it all apart.

The push and pull is how he copes with it even though he knows it's unfair to you ㅡ taunts you with what could be, then pushes you away. Open and shut, over and over.

You're tired of it, he knows that. So he apologizes, not sure what exactly he's sorry for. Sorry that he only knows how to take and less how to give, that he only knows how to lose.

You understand that. He knows, you've told him before. But even you have your limits. "I will have you without armor, Law," you tell him, "or I will not have you at all."

He knows it isn't fair to you. But he wishes things were different, that he were different ㅡ and that when he lets himself think about that red string, it wasn't wrapped around your throat.

ㅡ

Law's emotions are a house of cards and his defenses a glass house ㅡ and all it takes for both to crumble is, of course, almost losing you.

It's through no fault of his own, but he still feels sick as he dabs at the blood threatening to drip down into your eye.

"What you did was beyond reckless," he scolds sharply, wraps soft worry in barbed wire, "if you'd stuck to the damn plan, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"Sometimes you have to improvise." He gets the feeling you're not just talking about the situation at hand, but he doesn't care to analyze it at the moment.

"Whatever. You sound like that idiot Strawhat." He wants to keep scolding you, hammer home just how dumb you've been ㅡ but you're watching him, and the thin rubberband of his patience snaps.

The kiss is far from gentle. It's messy and clumsy, tastes a little like blood and gunpowder, but that hardly matters when you're kissing him back with the same kind of desperation.

ㅡ

Law doesn't put much weight in the idea of soulmates. It's a romantic connection at best and baseless for proof at worst, straddling somewhere in the middle.

But he supposes he does like the idea that you've always been meant for him, and he for you ㅡ that orbit gets easier to accept when he puts it that way. Or perhaps the atoms that make the two of you up have simply existed together for long enough in the grand scheme of things to echo through, even now.

You laugh when he tells you that, reaching to tug at a lock of his unruly hair. "Putting a scientific spin on it takes the romance out of it, Law."

His eyes flick to your lips and back. "Does it matter?"

Your expression turns thoughtful. "No, I suppose it doesn't." If you want to say more, Law doesn't know because he leans in to kiss you.

Be that you're a soul split in half trying to reunite or truly woven together by a thin red string, Law doesn't know.

What he does know is that you're in his bed, kissing him back, and that's all that matters.

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #–ml: law.

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hottpinkpenguin · 1 year

Note

Kaz brekker with the Nightmares end eventually prompt? Male/gender neutral reader if possible and romantic! If you do it then thank you!

A/n: I always love my first fic for a new character, so thank you anon for putting Kaz Brekker on my list!! this is a tad cheesier than my normal fare but i think our brooding boy Kaz needs a little romance in his life, so here it is. Hope you love it<3

Nightmares Kaz Brekker X GN!Reader WC: 2,031 Content Warnings for: depictions of violence, dead bodies, gore; probably some non-canon details

Kaz’s legs grew heavy and stopped kicking, his back end sinking into the cold waters of Ketterdam’s harbor. Behind him, the rank stench of rotting corpses from the Reaper’s Barge hung like a cloud in the air. The lights of Ketterdam bobbed on the horizon ahead like a beacon, but it seemed with each moment Kaz was drifting further away from the shore. His fingers fumbling to grab hold of his dead brother’s jacket for flotation. He gulped at the night air in the rare moments where his head broke the surface of the waves. The salt water stung the open sores on his face and hands, his body weak from sickness and hunger. The only thought in his mind: swim.

Trying to stifle a wave of nausea, Kaz grabbed ahold of Jordie’s bobbing corpse and hauled himself as far upward above the waves as he could manage. Kaz let out a strangled sob as his brother’s dead-pale face sank an inch below the water, his lifeless eyes gaping up at the starless sky above.

“Jordie.”

Kaz choked on his brother’s name, grief and horror twining together in his chest like strangling vines. He tried to push away thoughts of giving up, of letting go of Jordie’s corpse and allowing the sea to take him.

But something deep within him burned hotter than the firepox that riddled his body. A drive to live, to fight, to survive. Kaz had always had it - he got it from Jordie, he knew. Jordie had taught him how to fight back when the world threatened to crush you. Kaz heard his older brother’s voice echo in his mind: swim, Kaz.

His vision swam with white dots, but he forced himself to kick his legs, though they felt heavy like anchors.

Swim, Kaz. Swim. The feel of his brother’s unnaturally stiff, cold skin beneath the thin, water-logged linen shirt seared itself into Kaz’s memory.

Swim. Kick. Breath. Swim. Kick. Breath.

The lights of Ketterdam drew closer.

Kick. Kick. Swim.

The faint sounds of the docks tickled his ears. Kaz’s lungs were burning, the firepox that had weakened him and taken his brother’s life making one last, desperate attempt at his strength.

Breath. Kick. Breath. Kick.

Kaz felt his leg bounce off the ragged surface of a rock. The sounds of waves lapping on a rocky coast announced his arrival at the shores of Ketterdam.

Kick. Kick. Kick.

As soon as Kaz felt the pebbles scrape his stomach, he threw himself off his brother’s dead body and emptied his stomach in the sea foam. His head spun with exhaustion, fever, and terror. Next to him, he felt his brother’s body bob against him in the waves. Kaz scrambled away from the feeling, the terror reaching a fever pitch in his mind as he began to understand what he’d done.

He turned to look back at Jordie, now face-down in the ankle deep waters along Ketterdam’s warehouse district seawall. Jordie’s stiff body was so pale it seemed to shimmer with an unnatural, sickly glow. Kaz shivered violently as panic ripped through every inch of him. Mustering all his strength, he tipped his chin towards the sky and shrieked. He screamed for everything in his life he’d once thought would keep him safe: for Jordie, for his parents, for the world he thought he knew. The shriek felt like it would tear him in half, and Kaz let himself empty the pain he felt inside into the raw dark night. When the scream finally died on his lips with a strangled sob, what was left of the boy that had been Kaz Rietveld knew he would never be the same again…

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

Kaz felt himself rear up out of bed, his heart racing and that shriek from so many years before fading like an echo in his ears. He was panting, his body soaked with sweat. He swiped back the stray strands of hair plastered to his flushed forehead with a gloved hand.

“Kaz?”

A familiar voice drifted through the barely open door to his private quarters above the Crow Club. Kaz felt the knot of panic in his chest loosen slightly at the sound.

“Kaz, are you alright?”

Ever respectful, you didn’t barge through the door to check on him, although Kaz could hear the tense itch of concern in your voice. Kaz let his eyes close as he tried to clamp down the lid on his memories.

“I’m fine,” he called back, although his voice wavered pathetically. There was a split second of quiet before you replied.

“Nightmares, boss?”

The question was so quiet Kaz almost didn’t hear you. He let out a shaky exhale through lips that quivered ever so slightly. A gentle tap on the door: a question.

“Come in, y/n.”

Kaz wasn’t used to letting people into his quarters. Even Inej and Jesper, his closest friends - if Kaz Brekker could be said to have such relationships - were rare guests. Kaz didn’t like that he let you in, but you felt like a tonic. It wasn’t a coincidence that Kaz had asked you to take night watches for him. Your presence seemed to ease a pain Kaz had felt for so long he’d forgotten he had it. And on nights like this one - nights where Kaz’s dreams swallowed him whole and spat him back out - he needed you close. He’d never admit it aloud, although he didn’t need to. There was an understanding between you two, a tacit agreement. You’d stay close to him, he’d look after you.

You opened the door and slipped in, a momentary brightening from the hallway lights followed by the return of darkness to Kaz’s quarters.

“They were bad tonight.” Not a question, but an observation. Kaz looked over in your direction as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could barely make out your silhouette, although he could see the moonlight from his open window dancing in your large, thoughtful eyes. Damn those eyes, Kaz cursed to himself silently. They would be his undoing.

“Yes.”

Kaz never talked much about his dreams, even to you. He was grateful that you were content with what little information he did give. He had a feeling that you recognized just how difficult it was for him to tolerate the miniscule amounts of vulnerability he allowed you to see.

From the doorway, you nodded. You didn’t move to come closer to Kaz, and he didn’t motion for you to. You were close enough for Kaz to hear your even, steady breathing. He focused on that sound and tried to slow his own inhales and exhales to match. Even though it violated every instinct he had, Kaz let his eyelids flutter close. You hung back next to the door. The sounds of the sleeping city outside filled the quiet. Minutes passed, and Kaz let his mind loosen its grip on the fear that his nightmare had awoken.

When he opened his eyes, he found you exactly where he’d left you. Leaned against the wall, your kind eyes still trained on him. Kaz scooted up to lean back against the headboard, his bare chest now rising and falling in time with your own breathing.

“You have nightmares too, if I remember?”

Kaz caught the flicker of surprise in your gaze. Kaz usually never talked on nights like this, not unless you asked him something. Not only was he speaking, he was asking about you. Surprise gave way to a tender smirk, and you nodded.

“I did. Still do, but they’re less now.” Flickers of moments from your past that plagued your dreams danced in your head. A field of charred bodies… your sister in her favorite day dress lying face down in the blood-soaked mud next to the smoking remnants of your house… the way the smoke from your burned-out village blotted out of the sun…

You shook the images away like gnats, bringing yourself back to the moment, back to Kaz.

He was watching you intently. His dark hair was deliciously disheveled, and you could see the smooth planes of his stomach peeking out above the bedsheets.

“How did you do it?” he asked quietly. You forced yourself away from his body and tried to focus on his words, realizing you’d lost track of the conversation. You cocked an eyebrow at him, unsure of his meaning.

“How did you cope with them, I mean,” Kaz clarified. “How did you get them to go away?” A gentle night breeze fluttered the gauzy curtains by the window next to his bedside.

You turned Kaz’s question over in your head, wondering where to start.

“They never really went away,” you confessed, chewing on your lip. You’d resigned yourself long ago that you’d live the rest of your life with memories of the day your family was taken from you carved into your soul. It wasn’t something you would escape or ever come to terms with. It simply was.

You tried to say as much, but the words that dangled on the edge of your tongue felt all wrong. Your mouth opened and closed with a heavy sigh.

Kaz’s lips quirked up at the sound. He turned to look out into Ketterdam’s streets, the moonlight casting his handsome face in a gentle glow.

“That’s not a fair question,” he mused with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m sorry to bother you, y/n. I’m fine. You can go back to your post.”

You felt a twinge of disappointment at Kaz’s words, although they were less of a dismissal and more of a question. You turned to leave, but hesitated as your hand touched the doorknob.

When you turned back to him, he was staring at you with something that looked like hope in his eyes. It made your heart leap in your chest.

“One thing I learned about nightmares, boss. Even nightmares end eventually.”

Kaz considered your words thoughtfully. You held his gaze as you kept talking.

“The things that gave us our nightmares ended, too. It doesn’t mean we forget them, it doesn’t mean we move on. But it does mean that we aren’t prisoners forever. The dreams, the memories… they’re with us, but they don’t control us. They teach us things, but they don’t command us.”

Kaz drank in your every word, watching the way your expression glazed over as whatever memories haunted you swam just beneath the surface of your eyes. He knew that look: he’d seen it in himself many times before. The way you wore it though was different. He marveled at the realization that he’d never really seen you before. He’d felt you, felt the calming effect that your presence had on him. But now he could see why: you understood him. As much as anyone could. Kaz had always liked to think that others only knew him as much as he let them know him. You were proof that that wasn’t true. It both frightened him and delighted him.

“Sorry… that didn’t make much sense.” You let your eyes drop to the ground, suddenly embarrassed by your outburst. You turned to the door, eager to make your escape from the awkward moment.

“It makes perfect sense, actually,” he interjected quickly. You hesitated, halfway out the door into the dimly lit hallway. With the aid of the lamps from the hall, Kaz could see you more clearly. He thought he detected a faint flush on your cheeks, and he had to bite down a smirk at the sight. He was glad the light didn’t reach him, because you’d see a similar heat on his face. He’d taken a big step with you tonight, but he wasn’t ready to show you how he felt. Not yet.

“Thank you, y/n,” he called after you.

You turned halfway back to him, not meeting his eyes. From your profile, Kaz could see the faint hints of a smile.

“You’re welcome, Kaz.”

You left him alone with a quiet click of his door. Kaz hated how much he loved the way his name sounded in your voice.

This time when Kaz fell asleep, it wasn’t his past that swirled in his dreams, but hopes for the future.

#kaz rietveld #kaz brekker #kaz x reader #kaz x y/n #kaz imagine #kaz shadow and bone #bastard of the barrel #kaz dirtyhands brekker #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #freddy carter #freddy carter x reader #freddy carter x y/n #freddy carter imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker imagine

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neptune-scythe · 2 months

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quick thing about the nuances of desire that is often over looked, specifically in regards to touch aversion

the argument I get the most when discussing Kanej having a relationship without any physical intimacy or touch is that they both want that

but here's the thing

yes they both express desires for touch or physical intimacy, but it's not as black and white as that.

there's three points I wanna make here

the first is there's a difference between wanting something and fantasizing about it. and by that I mean you can like the idea of something, you can have a desire for that idea, but it isn't the actual thing. so for the topic of touch, you can like the idea of a hug or a kiss, you can desire to experience the same feeling from it that other people do or that you think you should, but in reality it isn't actually enjoyable to you, it doesn't give you the feeling you want it to. you want it, maybe even enough to try it again and again, but it may never give you what you want out of it.

the second point ties into the first one nicely of being that you can want the feeling that touch is supposed to give, so you think you want the touch as well. but in reality you just haven't separated the two. you want the comfort, the safety, the closeness, the protection, or whatever else that you're supposed to feel when you touch someone, you might not actually want or enjoy the touch itself or get those feelings from it. but once you separate the two you can find those feelings you're searching for in other ways that are actually comfortable and beneficial.

and the third point is that sometimes you just want to want something. you want to have the desire to touch someone, to be able to feel comfortable with it, but you don't. you might try and convince yourself that you do want it because you think you're supposed to, but the actual desire just isn't there. you want to have the desire rather than actually having the desire.

so for Kaz and Inej, yes they both expressed desires for physical intimacy, but it's not as black and white as "they said they want it so that's what they need to be happy"

desire is much deeper than that, and humans are much more nuanced and layered and unpredictable.

and yes there are also times when people just have desires without any of the extra stuff, but given their history I personally don't think Kaz or Inej are that type. There are too many conflicting feelings and experiences for it to be that simple in my opinion.

and if there's one thing Leigh Bardugo is good at it's making deep, multifaceted, and complex characters, and that's what I enjoy so much about them. they have the capacity to portray all those nuances of desire that other characters just can't, and that's a very beautiful and important thing ... especially for y/a books. to capture the human experience, to explain the aspects of humanity that are hard to discover in one's self or notice in other people. it's a bridge to deeper understanding, it's putting that ability to understand in a language that is more accessible and universal than an intellectual self help book or an essay.

so to circle back to my overarching point, desire isn't a simple thing. thinking "I want __" doesn't necessarily translate perfectly the way it presents, and there are many complexities to the human mind that are unpredictable and surprising.

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jahayla-parker · 3 months

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💭Headcanon: send in a character and a scenario or type of reader to get a bullet point list of thoughts on it.

okay okay, kaz brekker x sister!reader

Kaz Brekker's Sister Headcannons

I feel like his sister would be the youngest (born after both Jordie and Kaz). 'Cause part of his trauma is being afraid to rely on someone older who he thought would take care of him.

Running with that thought, Kaz would take that ^^^ type of role towards his sister very seriously. He vowed he wouldn’t let her down the way Jordie let him down (don’t come for me! His internal thoughts mention this frustration in the books so it’s canon).

We know Kaz is obviously very protective over those he cares about, which would undoubtedly extend to his sister. But, his role as the older brother added to that. And his disappointment and anger towards Jordie’s role in what happened ask those years ago, added to that as well; he wasn’t going to do that to his sister.

Although, he knew it wasn’t something he could prevent. Since it already happened to her once; the same day it happened to him. Jordie was her older brother as well. But Kaz nevertheless vowed to never let her down.

Kaz vowed to never make her have to worry about or even question having a roof over her head, a warm room to sleep in, food , etc.

He kept a healer on hand should she get sick ever (even so much as a cold). He wasn’t taking any chances. While he refused to let healers touch him he required it for her wellbeing.

She never had to worry about her safety. He’d taught her how to defend herself, how to fight, kill, etc.

He kept her from having to experience the financial difficulties he was old enough to experience due to Jordie’s deal with Rollins and as they aged, he made sure it stayed that way now that she was old enough to be able to know if that was the case as he made sure they always had enough funds saved up and the means to get more some should it be needed.

Kaz would’ve been so upset when his sister became ill, to the point it inadvertently made himself much sicker from stress.

Kaz tried to do whatever he could to get her feeling better, giving any scraps of sustenance to her instead of taking his portion/share and using their only blanket to cover more of her body by not covering any of his.

It would only have driven his anger against Pekka even further because he not only lost his older brother, he almost lost his little sister and he watched her suffer the loss of jordie as well

Given she was so young (given the age gap between Jordie and Kaz at the time of incident, I’m assuming she’s roughly 7 ish), it was a lot to process and try to make sense of

And poor Kaz wasn’t much better at that; certainly not to the point he’d be able to be much help for her in this area

As such, he resorted to simply helping raise her as if this new life was simply how their lives had always been

Because he’d used the blanket on her and not himself, and had literally given her some of the clothing off his back to keep her from freezing to death, she’d managed to survive the night.

In fact, while her body was too hypothermic to wake up when the medics came through and took her brothers, she was fortunate enough to be just warm enough to not be considered dead the way Kaz was, and as such, wasn’t dumped in the harbor with Jordie.

As such, she didn't develop the trauma with touch like Kaz

But, it was her presence on land that truly drove Kaz’s survival.

His body was giving up and he wanted nothing more than to just give in

And he especially didn’t want to have to use his brother’s body as a flotation mechanism in order to survive

But his vengeance and his inherent need to protect his little sister drove him

We know Kaz is shit when it comes to being around sick people now (understandably) but the one exception would be his sister should she fall ill.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still horrible at handling it, or that he wouldn’t go into a full on panic spiral at the tiniest sign of her getting sick

But, he was also unable to pull himself from her side until she healed.

He refused to ever risk being away from her while she was ill ever again.

As far as his touch phobia, that undoubtedly extended to his sister as well, although he truly hated himself for it (more so than when it came to his touch phobia in general).

But, it was out of his control. Besides things got better with time.

It started rough and killed his spirit each time when his little 7yr old sister wanted to hold her surviving brother’s hand while walking through the “scary” streets of the Barrel or otherwise simply sought physical comfort from him.

Especially because he’d once been able to offer that to her and he knew she was old enough to remember that and he saw the clear proof of that in her sad eyes every time he pulled away

But by that point, he’d suffered the worst of it. So he knew they’d power through

The worst was when he made it back to her and he’d had to explain to her that jordie was not coming back. As if her sobs and screams weren’t painful enough for Kaz, she tried to cling onto him for support, only to find herself confused and more distraught when he scrambled away

With time, the two orphans inevitably took over the town.

At first Kaz wouldn’t let his sister get involved

Until he realized that was futile, especially if he wanted her to start safe

He had caught her defiantly trying to help on her own, so he eventually caved and taught her everything she needed to now how to do and brought her into the business

Inej and Kaz’s interaction about crows was actually similar to what happened with his sister years before and that’s what made him choose to name their new elite crewmembers and dare his sister say friends, his crows.

Kaz used his power in the Barrel to create a safety shield around his sister

He knew she was a vulnerability to him and in turn was at risk by association, so most people didn’t know she was his sister

She’d been hurt at first when he told her this was how they’d go about their new life, after all, she was so young and didn’t understand but he did it for her sake

And if people did find out about them being siblings, they’d assume that she and Kaz must not be as close as normal siblings because they saw the business relationship only and assumed that’s all there was between them even when finding out about the blood relation (it helped that Kaz always made a name for himself as someone who didn’t care about anyone else), which worked to keep people from using her as bait or something against Kaz. Which was what he’d masterminded of course.

She was 7 so she didn’t understand the need to change their last names and start fresh but she trusted Kaz fully

She is and was the only person he ever took flack from and or allowed/allows to yell or argue etc with him but only in private

Kaz knew his sister would be struggling with Jordie’s death, as he himself was and still is

But he knew he was not going to be much help

He did as much as he could, if she’d suffered anxiety or panic attacks, he was there to offer verbal assistance and support

And he helped her take part in getting revenge for what they went through

But he couldn’t talk about it. It was still too much and talking was no longer a strength of his.

He couldn’t talk to her when she was younger as he needed her to simply follow along with what he said and believe this was just the way things went all along

But as they got older he still found himself unable to talk to her about it

But that’s why he finally told Inej just enough for her to know that his sister would be having similar issues as him since she was so worried about his behaviors and in turn, he knew Inej would go to her and be able to offer the support he couldn’t

Again, I could go on and on, but I loved this idea!

Kaz Taglist: @dil3mma @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @winstonthecow22 @alex-kazbrekkersimp @wolfmoonmusic @phoenix666stuff @kentucky-criedfricken @twlegit @valeridarkness @shara-ne @crazyhearttragedy @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @el-de-phi @adalia-jaycee @bookloverfilmoholic @beekeepingageissome

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undiscovered-horizon · 10 months

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Amendments II: The Panther and the Duckling - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[Part 1]

[vulgar language, canon-typical violence]

SUMMARY: The moment comes when Kaz gives you the opportunity to make amendments for the two thugs that started a fight at his club. He can only nod in appreciation at the mayhem you effortlessly cause.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.2k

[Grishaverse-inspired playlist]

Kaz didn’t quite know what to expect when walking towards your place. Would it be filled with riches? Or instead, kept plain and simple? How golden is the Golden Panther’s lair?

Despite having no expectations, he’s pretty surprised to see the interior of Albasten Vlam Casino. Creme and crimson furnishing along with gold chandeliers and brackets make the venue appear exclusive. A soft jazz tune carries through the venue, skilful hands of the pianist creating a neverending, atonal melody. The guests are also nothing short of lavish, losing in one game the same amount of money some citizens of Ketterdam earn in three months' time. It seems as though the entrance to the Albasten Vlam is a doorway into another realm, where poverty and disease are about as real as the boogeyman under a child’s bed.

Two Fjerdans, each roughly the size of a grange, eye Kaz suspiciously as he walks through the spacious halls. His common elegance looks almost offensive among the million-Kruge suits of the casino’s clientele. Even if he wasn’t a thief, the guards would still expect him to dabble in thievery - simply because of the way he looks compared to the other patrons.

Walking up short stairs and turning into backrooms and staff-only corridors, Kaz knows that he’s expected. Otherwise, why is no one stopping him? In fact, most of the employees don’t seem to pay him much mind.

The long hall decorated with statues and paintings ends in a two-wing pair of doors almost completely covered by the stocky bodies of bodyguards. One of them, covered in tattoos of Zemenian origin, laughs when Kaz approaches the door.

“Oi, boys!” the tattooed man yells to someone behind Kaz. He speaks with a heavy accent. “Would you look at this! Twee’y wans in.”

Kaz hears two sets of footsteps behind him. They’re not distinctively loud, those people aren’t carrying weapons.

“I came to speak with the Golden Panther,” Kaz states, unaffected.

“Like many did before ya and many will do after,” the guard answers. “Wha’eve’ ya have to say to me Boss, ya can say to me, Twee’y.”

“Very well,” Kaz says quietly. “I’m here to discuss the repayment of Panther’s debt for causing a fight in my club.”

The tattooed man gives his friend, who looks like his archenemy is the Sun, a meaningful look. “Keep an eye on the lad, I’ll check in with Boss.” He goes to open the door but before he walks into your office, he makes sure to give Kaz the most annoyed expression a face can make.

A few minutes go by when no one makes a sound. The sickly pale guard barely blinks, keeping his watchful, grey eyes on Brekker. Whoever followed Kaz is still standing a few paces behind him, also remaining suspiciously quiet.

Kaz hates this feeling. He has to put his faith in your apparent reliability. Some people say that ‘there’s no honour among thieves’ and perhaps they’re right. But what honour could there be between a panther and a crow? Isn’t the only thing they can honour Mother Nature? The food chain?

Right when Kaz is about to give in to his fatalistic thoughts, the door opens once again and the tattooed man emerges from the room. His lips are kept in a thin line. The man appears to be dissatisfied with what he had learned but alas, there is nothing he can do about it.

“Today’s ya lucky day, Twee’y,” he speaks up, his voice bitter. “Pop in and behave yaself.”

Without another word, Kaz pushes past the tattooed guard and into the room.

Your office is furnished in a similar style as the rest of the casino: creme, crimson and gold. The first thing that Kaz notices, and pretty much anyone who walks in, is the taxidermied panther head hanging on the wall behind you. The motif of a panther is quite prevalent as the legs of your desk are also carved to resemble pouncing and roaring panthers.

Bright ringing chimes in his ears. He turns his head to the side only to notice a frail woman, if she is even old enough to be called that, typing away on a typewriter. Judging by the stack of papers next to her, she’s rewriting your letters and notes. Kaz makes a note of her clothing: the pigeon blue barely fits the interior design but the quality of the material and craftsmanship looks far too expensive for a typist.

“Kaz Brekker in the fucking flesh,” you say aloud. His attention is once again focused on you. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to show up in person.”

“An opportunity has arisen for you to repay me.”

“Tell me.” Your voice sounds disinterested as you look back down at whatever document you are signing. Kaz puts his gloved hand on the back of the chair in front of your desk but you’re quick to shut him down. “Nah, don’t sit,” you say without looking up.

It’s all a gimmick, he thinks, but she has the means to uphold it. The skill and power to make it real.

For a moment he considered sitting down against your will simply out of spite but he’s heard enough stories to not get in your bad books just to prove a point. Golden Panther is a name even Pekka Rollins would say with fear in his voice. Kaz has seen the damage you’ve done to Pekka - damage that even his title of “The King of the Barell” can not repair.

“I’m planning a job and I need a distraction,” Kaz explains. “There’s a brewery in town. Belongs to a man known as Magnus Molders. Your job is to destroy his business, thus drawing the Stadwatch away from me and my Crows.”

With a devilish smile on your face, you look up from the document and set your pen aside. “And what did little Maggie-boy do to you, Dirtyhands?”

“That is none of your concern.”

You give him a knowing nod.

“So, kill two birds with one stone,” you sum up. “Practical, effective, sends a message. Solid 6 out of 10. Lacking in the finesse department.” Half-jokingly, you shake your head with an expression of disappointment.

“I’m not interested in your appraisal,” Kaz retorts. “Magnus Molders’s brewery in two days' time. That’s your assignment if you want your debt erased.”

A scoff flies past your lips. “I’m rude, not stupid, Brekker,” you drone your words. “I’ll be there. Stadwatch won’t even catch a sniff of you. Here, let me walk you out.”

You stand up from your desk, grabbing the cane with the panther's head leaning against it. Although Kaz doesn’t want to admit it, hiding a blade inside the cane is an idea that has been growing on him. Practical, effective, sends a message, he hears your voice in his thoughts.

Kaz follows you out and is immediately met with an obvious change of behaviour in your employees. The guards suddenly stand uncomfortably straight, pushing their chests out. Now, Brekker can take a look at the two men who had followed him up to your office. They both look like chimney sweepers or shoe shiners, the type of lanky young men no one pays attention to in a crowd. People of this sort tend to be overlooked enough to listen in on any and every hot scoop or invited into people’s homes and no one ever checks whether they’re not helping themselves to the expensive belongings of the homeowners.

“I want Sorokin and Evander with me,” you order. “They started this shit and I will do my damn best to make sure they end this.”

“Yes, Boss,” the tattooed man hurriedly answers and bows his head slightly. He’s about to march away when you ask him one more thing:

“And bring the Duckling.”

The tattooed man’s lips turn into a devilish grin. “Aye, Boss,” he drones the words.

“The Duckling?” Kaz repeats in a questioning manner.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise now, would we?” you answer in an irritatingly patronizing tone. “It’s very me.”

Explosions and mayhem? Kaz thinks to himself. But then he realizes it doesn’t quite matter - if this “Duckling” lives up to your known style of dealing with things, he’s going to get one hell of a distraction.

Magnus Molders rushes out of his brewery. He didn’t even have the time to button up his coat. The cold, rainy wind tugs at his thin shirt and dishevelled hair.

He gasps in surprise. His employee, a redhead boy with a lisp, told the truth: there’s the Golden Panther waiting for him on the circular driveway in front of the brewery. You’re leaning against the backdoor of the steel carriage, finishing a hand-rolled cigarette.

“I’d say ‘good morning’ but it’s more of a shitty noon, you know?” you speak up. With a flick of your fingers, you throw the finished smoke under the brewmaster’s shoes.

Nervous, Magnus clenches his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. His lips tighten into a thin, white line.

“What…” his voice trembles. Magnus clears his throat. “What do ya want, Panther?”

“A lot of things,” you answer. “But I don’t suppose you sell lavender cream puffs or pistachio croissants, do you?”

“No, I-” he hangs his voice when he sees you put your hand up.

“That was a rhetorical question,” you spit out.

“So,” he continues, “What brings ya here?”

You took a small step towards him. “At first, I wanted to talk to you. You know like proper adults. But then I remembered I don’t speak little bitch.”

Magnus clenches his jaw. His eyes begin to burn with anger, fear and humiliation. Like a wounded animal, he ounces when threatened.

“Yer mad, woman, is what ya are!” he screams. A few distant passers-by look towards him and you. They scurry away, sensing immediate danger. “I’ve no bad blood with ya. What’s all this for?!”

With a sad expression on your face, you shake your head disapprovingly. “Because you’re a cunt.”

You hit the steel door of the carriage with your fist, the banging ringing in your ears.

“Duckling?” Jesper repeats confused. Kaz only nods along, an absent expression on his face. “What in Hell is-...” he hangs his voice when he notices a metallic shine in the darkness of the steel carriage. “Oh. Oh, that’s proper mental.”

Without a warning, the massive Gatling gun hidden in the cab begins shooting. Bullets faster than blinking eyes pierce the air, thousands in a second, destroying the brewery. As you ordered before, Sorokin is the one aiming and firing, his whole body trembling from the recoil of the machine gun. Evander, the other man responsible for the fight, is holding the casings with the bullets and making sure the Gatling doesn’t seize up.

After barely a few minutes, although they felt like hours, the brewery building looks like one of the kerchen cheeses that have more holes than actual cheese. Magnus Molders is catching his raspy breath as he tries to stop the bleeding in his left arm. Most of his white shirt is crimson now. Blood is covering the circular driveway, red mixing with greyish rainwater in puddles only to turn into a black, thick liquid. It’s hard to say what happened to his employees back at the brewery but you couldn’t care less. “Bad place, bad time” as some people say.

The streets are awfully quiet but not for long: galloping horses are heard in the distance. A bell begins to ring feverishly. It’s the Stadwatch, always arriving when the party’s already over.

When Kaz gets back into his office in the late evening hours, he’s met with something he should have expected - you’re sitting in his chair, legs propped up on his desk. Although it’s supposed to come off as arrogant, he notices that you’ve stacked his papers, so that your shoes don’t actually damage them. Strangely nice for someone who has no qualms about shooting up a random brewery.

“What are you doing here?” he asks angrily.

You look at your pocket watch. “Took you long enough. I was beginning to think you’ve lost your way.” You take your legs off his desk and stand up. “I should probably ask whether you’re satisfied with my service but I find myself unable to care for your opinion.”

“Why’d you come here, then?” he retorts swiftly.

“Business etiquette, I guess?” You shrug. “Shake hands, erase the red from the ledger and go our separate ways, admiring each other’s achievements from a safe distance.”

Kaz slightly squints his eyes. By the way he’s clenching his jaw, you can tell he’s angry. He does accept your handshake but keeps the courtesy short and stern. Professional, one might say.

“And yet I feel compelled to give you my appraisal." His tone is intense, filled with violent emotions kept under control with the last bits of his self-control. "You’re like a fly that keeps buzzing but keeps escaping the swat. Infuriating.”

A humourless chuckle erupts in your throat. “You might want to check that with the board of directors.” Before he has any time to react, you pat his thigh, indecently close to his groin, before walking past him and out of the room. At first, he’s angry, blood boiling in his veins and begging him to put you in your place, demand respect in the only way people like you and him understand. But then Kaz grows strangely bashful as he realises that there might be some truth in your words.

___

Guys, I promise I'm not actually dead T_T Been writing original stuff and binging The Mortal Instruments (the Netflix show is so bad it's actually fun...?)

Tagging people who were interested in part 2: @queenkalico @kplatzman @sunset-kisses-vibes @zeeader

#shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows #six of crows fic #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader

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amsgrey · 1 year

Text

when you're ready

Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader (established relationship)

Kaz comforts you after you get hurt.

WARNINGS: Assault (kind of alludes to SA but not stated), please do not read if this might upset you, canon typical violence, traumatic event, talk of ptsd symptoms (reader and Kaz) not proofread.

note: This is really short because I have been crazy busy with uni work, but here's a little Kaz comfort.

Nina held tight to your hand, laying next to you on your tiny cot. She watched quietly as Inej threaded a needle through the deep cut on your side. Your eyes were shut tight, trying to fight off the tears and nausea that built within you. Inej was being as gentle as she could, her fingers ghosting over your skin. She knew how you felt, she had been in your position too many times before. Your shirt was a bloody mess on the ground, leaving your skin exposed to the cold air that drafted through your open window.

"Almost done," Inej whispered, breaking the silence.

As she finished her work, you couldn't hold in the tears any longer. They fell silently down your cheeks as you tried to fight off the flashbacks burning through your mind. You could still feel the rough hands that had grabbed you, the fist that knotted your hair, yanking so hard on your scalp you feared it was ripped right out. You had tried to fight, to scream for the crows, but you were easily overpowered by the men who were easy twice your size. They bore the tattoo of dime lions, branded on their forearms that peaked out under their shirts.

Nina and Inej stayed with you the whole night, watching over you as you slept and reminding you you were safe when you woke crying. In fact, they stayed with you for the four days that followed. You couldn't bare the thought of leaving your room, Nina and Inej kept the other crows away and looked after you together. You still flinched at the sound of male voices, you knew it was irrational and ridiculous but there was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

Nina had told you that Kaz was worried, but he knew you needed space and therefore would give it to you. A small part of you wanted to seek him out, but there was the nagging in the back of your head that he couldn't give you the comfort you were seeking.

"Kaz is sending us all on a job tonight," Inej had brought you a cup of tea, the two of you looking out the window down at the streets below.

You nodded, "Is Kaz going too?"

Inej shook her head, "He's staying here."

You nodded, watching her go and leaving you stewing in your room. After the sun had long since set, you cracked open your door and tried to get yourself to leave your room.

Stepping past the threshold had been the most challenging part, trying to force your feet to move from where they stayed glued. You had almost cried in frustration, this was your home, you should not have to feel so scared.

So you forged ahead, taking the first step out of your room and then another. And another. Until you were all the way at Kaz's door. You held your hand on the door handle, breathing heavily to try to quell the nausea in your stomach.

You recoiled when you heard footsteps on the other side o the door, stepping back when Kaz threw open the door with a scowl. You gaped for something to say, blinking back the tears that suddenly choked you. Kaz looked like he was about to scorn the person who lingered outside his door, when he finally looked at you the scowl vanished.

"Y/N," He said, so softly it wretched through your already crumbling resolve.

Kaz seemed to realize how distraught you were, he stepped to the side and ushered you inside his room. When the door was securely closed, you turned to Kaz and silently begged for what you came to see him for. You always tried to give Kaz space, not pressuring him for physical affection, but now you need it. Needed him.

Kaz didn't look caged like he often did when he was uncomfortable, instead, he grabbed you in his arms and held you tightly to his chest. You had never actually hugged Kaz, you had held hands and been close enough to kiss but never hugged. Somehow it felt so much more intimate than the touches you had shared before. Kaz held you to his chest as you cried quietly, finally letting the relief of safety wash over you.

You pulled away after a moment, trying to compose yourself, "I'm sorry," You whispered.

Kaz cupped your face in his gloved hands, "they won't hurt you again."

You had heard a few whispers about the slat in the last few days. Kaz had disappeared one evening and returned covered in blood, his cane stained red. It was always accompanied by whispers about his gloves or Dirtyhands does not need a reason. You knew there was a reason this time. How he had managed to track down and find the men who had attacked you was beyond you, you hadn't told anyone about who they were.

"Thank you."

You slipped past Kaz and sat down heavily on his bed, looking over his room. Kaz hesitantly sat down next to you, watching you with sharp eyes and waiting for you to show signs of being uncomfortable.

After a long moment, you let out a sigh, covering your face with your hands and trying to gather your thoughts. You could feel Kaz shift next to you, and then he placed a hand on your shoulder to try to comfort you.

"I'll be here," Kaz promised, taking back his hand because he didn't know what exactly to do, "when you're ready to talk."

You nodded, "I know."

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker #the crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #nina zenik #six of crows nina #nina zenik x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows wylan #six of crows jesper #grishaverse

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cameliawrites · 3 months

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Kanej Fic Recs: The "Figuring Out Intimacy" Trope

If you're anything like me, you're a glutton for very specific fic tropes applied to your very favorite OTPs (and we all know my OTP of OTPs is kanej). To this end, ao3 tags are your best friend. When you see that delicious combination of tags like "emotional hurt/comfort" and "healing" and "pining" with some sort of moody, vaguely poetic title, that's the good shit right there. That is a MEAL, and you are about to feast.

Anyways. I'm getting off track.

I come to you today with more than just an offering to the potluck; I am here to open up the doors to the whole damn buffet. That's right - FIC RECS. Specifically, fic recs that scratch the particular itch for "post-canon fics where Kaz and Inej figure out how to touch each other, but really the Physical Armor is always symbolic of the Emotional Armor that they have to learn to lower if they hope to ever really Be Together." Do you know what I'm talking about? If you know, you know. It's kanej figuring out intimacy. It's touch, but it's about the way they touch each other's souls. It's a fandom-classic fic trope. FEAST AWAY. (And feel free to reblog and add any of your own favorites! This is certainly not an exhaustive list, just some favorites of mine that fit the bill.)

They're all complete, they're all canon compliant (I had to set some limitations because my list was getting out of hand lol), and they're listed in order of rating (T, M, etc.), but otherwise they're in no particular order, and the summaries and/or most of the excerpts are those provided by the authors on ao3!

Can We Stop? by thegoldenkneazle (Rated G, 220 words, drabble)

Excerpt:

Kaz immediately drew back, rolling over onto his side of the creaky bed to create space between them. “Are you okay?” he asked, dark eyebrows drawing together.

Every Time We Touch by Pokemon67 (Rated G, 1k words, oneshot)

Summary: "Inej hadn't been exaggerating. It wasn’t easy for her either."

Excerpt:

She couldn’t quite recall how they’d ended up here, in Kaz’s room, on his bed. She was perched on his legs, right in front of him, and if she raised her head she could look into his eyes count the little flecks of gold the light always teased to her were there.

Uncharted Waters by insignificant457 (Rated T, 5k words, oneshot)

Summary: "One step on the long and winding road to intimacy."

Excerpt:

Perhaps Inej should be insulted that she’s been penciled into Kaz’s schedule, fit snugly in between a Crow Club shareholders’ meeting and a parley with the Liddies, but when it comes to taking steps forward in their relationship, romantic spontaneity is not exactly something they can afford.

Council of the Tides by blacktag189 (Rated T, 15k words, multichap)

Excerpt:

With each tiny step forward they made, the urgency to be pulled out to sea still built. She couldn't ignore the brutal truth in that - that no matter how much he gave her here...one day everything would align just right and she would leave. But today wasn't that day.

Discover the Rest by Silver_89 (Rated T, 4k words, oneshot) (note: restricted to ao3 account holders)

Summary: "Post Crooked Kingdom fic where Kaz and Inej have made some progress with touch but touch is not the only progress Inej wants to see from him. She wants to know him too."

Excerpt:

Inej didn’t share much about her time at the Menagerie...And yet she had shared that she struggled with touch too. He understood why. But she didn’t know why he was the same. I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all. It was time he tried taking it off.

All Flowers in Time (Bend Towards the Sun) by laurie_ipsum (Rated M, 10k words, multichap)

Summary: "Does this fandom need yet another Kaz and Inej figure out intimacy fic? Probably not, but I did it anyway."

Excerpt:

Kaz wants all his firsts. It’s written in his eyes, on his face, in every line of his body. She can tell it terrifies him. It terrifies her, too.

One Thousand and One Nights by Trogdor19 (Rated M, 11k words, multichap)

Summary: "One new touch, every night…"

Excerpt:

He dips his head, his cheekbone brushing against hers so quietly it’s like the way she moves. So silkily between shadows no one’s ever quite sure it happened. 'Wait for me,' he breathes. The letters barely given enough air to shape them.

The Trouble With Wanting by A_nonnie_mouse (Rated M, 6k words, oneshot, part of a series)

Summary: "Inej begins to reckon with her own armor so she can have what, and who, she wants."

Excerpt:

“Kaz.” She was frustrated at his self-deprecation. “Please understand. My mind wants you. My heart longs for you. My body…” She struggled for words, the shame rising again, threatening her eyes with tears. “My body isn’t entirely convinced something horrible isn’t going to happen again. This wasn’t because of you. You understand that, don’t you?”

show me where my armor ends (show me where my skin begins) by kingsandqueensofthebarrel (Rated M, 25k words, oneshot)

Excerpt:

“You’re something I want, Wraith,” he says, his tone all business like. “And I don’t stop until I have what I want.” “That could have sounded romantic.” “It’s a fact.” She hums and squeezes his hand.

collision course by cameliawrites (Rated M, 10k words, oneshot) (shameless self-promotion)

Excerpt:

Inej adjusts to Kaz the way that winter adjusts to spring: she thaws, and thaws, and thaws—and then she utterly melts.

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars by sarathedreamer (Rated M, 54k words, multichap, part of a series)

Summary: "Kaz and Inej learning to be with one another after Crooked Kingdom (events in Rule of Wolves might be mentioned in later chapters but you'll be warned!) Basically a slow burn filled with angst and fluff, and little plot :)"

Excerpt:

She blushed and felt a smile tug at her lips, so she looked down at his hand, held up in front of her like an invitation. His fingers were barely shaking. Inej looked back up at his eyes, asking a silent question once more, and Kaz nodded after a short hesitation. She gently cupped his hand in hers, fascinated by the softness of it, by the way two of hers were not quite enough to hold one of his. No one but she could know how graceful Dirtyhands’ weapons were under his gloves, and that was another one of his secrets she would gladly keep close to her chest.

Things We Can Never Do by rainstormdragon (Rated E, 3k words, oneshot, part of a series)

Excerpt:

They had done this before more than once. First words, then their hands on their own bodies. Gasped encouragement and shared fantasies. “Tell me what you’d want to do,” he urged her, not moving even a hair’s breadth toward her, giving her the safety of the space between them. “Tell me what you’d want me to do.”

Closer by lilieswho (Rated E, 7k words, oneshot)

Excerpt:

There is a deep desire crawling under Inej’s skin. It’s a feeling she’s begun to grow used to by now — the feeling of wanting someone, wishing for their touch and hoping they wish for hers back. Not someone’s, no. Kaz’s.

If you've made it all the way to the end of this rec list (hi!! thanks!), you should absolutely reply to or reblog this post with your favorite "kanej figure out intimacy" fic, whether it's on this list or something else! :) Support your local organic pasture-raised fic authors, etc. etc.

#fic recs #kanej

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