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the-sound-of-her-wings · 1 year

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hi! can i please request a kaz brekker x reader fic based off of episode 5 of season 2 (despise your heart)? when kaz panics in the market reader finds him and takes him somehwere safe and gives him his gloves, and in that moment kaz kinda of realizes how he feels about the reader. and then the poison fog the reader hallucinates about kaz and him finally making physical contact and giving her love and she thinks it’s real until someone shoves the antidote in her mouth, once she regains consciousness she rushes over to help kaz and kaz sees her pulling him out of the water and the readers just sitting there holding his face and anything else you wanna add !

if it’s a little complicated i understand, thank you have a great day :))

You were always in plain sight

❀ Word Count: 2,145 ❀ CW: Panic Attack, Discussions of Trauma, Pining, Admissions ❀ A/N: Added a few more scenes than requested. I hope you enjoy!

He’s going to panic, you think to yourself.

In fact, his body was already panicking, even if he wasn’t. Nina is too focused on the target's heart rate to notice, but Kaz’s heart rate has been slowly increasing ever since he took off the gloves.

You watch as the woman they were meeting with gets up, and Kaz goes to follow. Unfortunately, another woman immediately runs into him, spilling tea all over the front of him, and definitely accidentally touching him.

“Give me his gloves,” You whisper to Inej.

She hands them over silently. You put on your own set of gloves, a pair you keep on you in the event something like this happens.

Nina places her hand on top of Kaz’ and you watch the life drain from his face. And then he’s running.

“You follow the target. I’ve got him.” You say.

It doesn’t take you long to catch up to him, but by then he’s already completely disassociated and in complete panic. You take him by the arm, leading him to an empty alley, careful only to touch the clothed parts of his arm. Even with your hands in gloves, you are worried any kind of touch to his exposed hands will send him spiraling further.

He collapses to the ground in an unceremonious heap.

“You were supposed to follow her,” He says.

“Inej has it covered.” You reply, sitting down on the opposite side of the alley, a decent distance from him.

There’s a moment of silence before you add, “Someone had to follow you. You can’t be by yourself when your…” And you don’t know how to finish the sentence. Traumatized? Panicking? Having a PTSD flashback to an event you refuse to discuss with anyone? “...like this.”

It pains you to see him so deep in his own pain, so desperate to keep other people out of it. To keep you out of it. You place his gloves close to him, but far enough away that it doesn’t look like you’re trying to touch him.

He notices your gloves, “When did you-?”

“A while ago. There just in case-” And you cut yourself off with a sigh. In case this happened. “Do you want me to stay?”

Yes? Kaz thinks, but he’s still panicking too much to say anything. In fact, the thought sends him into even more of a panic, because he’s not ever had a thought like that before.

“I’ll be on the other side of the alley. We’ll regroup once you’ve had a chance to calm down.” You say, leaving him to decompress.

XXXXX

“Nina wants an explanation,” Inej tells you as you watch over Kaz from a distance. He’s finally come out of the worst of it and is now trying to act like nothing happened. It’s a behavior that you simply have never gotten used to, despite years by his side.

“Then tell her the truth.” You say.

“Which is?” Inej asks. She sometimes thinks you know more than she does, but that’s not really true. You both know exactly the same thing about Kaz- which is that Pekka Rollins killed his brother and that he absolutely cannot stand another person’s touch.

“He had a panic attack.” You reply. “She’s not going to tell the others, is she?”

“No. But I think Jesper should know. He hates it when we leave him out of the loop.” Inej states.

“I think I’m going to try to talk to him this time. See what else is going on.” You say, watching as Kaz sits down, clearly deep in thought.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I didn’t think you’d be happy about that idea.” You say, cleaning the dirt from under your nails.

“He will open up when he’s ready.” Inej tries to reassure you.

“We both know he’d never be that vulnerable.”

“Then why ask?” She asks.

So I know how to fix it.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we? The world isn’t going to save itself.” You state, heading towards Kaz and the rest of the group to figure out the plan. Maybe you’ll ask him once all of this over.

XXXXX

“We should talk about what happened in the market.” You say, sitting on his desk.

“Must we?” Kaz replies, lowering the newspaper he had been reading to meet your gaze.

“Yes.”

He set the paper aside, making his way over to you. He towers over you in a way he’s never done before, closer than he’s ever been. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what happened.”

“You saw what happened,” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I want to know why, Kaz.” You respond.

“Why?” He retorts. Is he flirting with you or just trying to get under your skin?

“I want to fix it. Or prevent it or- I don’t know! I just. I never want to see you like that again. I don’t want to see you suffer.”

“It won’t happen again,” He reassures you, a gloved hand coming up to caress your face. You block it with the back of your forearm.

“Won’t it? Jesper told me what happened when you got thrown in that cart together. I watched as you tried not to panic while helping Inej clean her wounds. Do you think I can’t sense your heart rate when people get too close to you? That I don’t know exactly how your body reacts? Who hurt you so badly that you can’t even be physically near another person without wanting to vomit?” You ramble, letting out all of the questions and feelings you’ve been holding inside for all of these years.

“Pekka Rollins” He replies, the answer he gave you before. It’s always been the answer, and in some ways, it really is the truth.

“Kaz… I just want you to let me in. You carry so much inside of you that you let nobody see. But I want to see it… I want to understand.” You say, and you want to reach out and hug him but you know he can’t receive that kind of affection.

But then he does something you aren’t excepting. Slowly, he begins to remove his gloves. He sets them on the fireplace, one by one. One of his ungloved hands traces its way up the side of your neck and rests on your cheek. You gasp at his touch.

And then you are staring into each other’s eyes, into each other’s souls. Like you’ve always seen each other- like you’ve always known. Kaz plays his cards close to his chest, but you don’t. Nina has teased you for it relentlessly.

When he kisses you, you can’t believe this is happening. It’s perfect. These are things he would only do in dreams. These are things he would only say in dreams. These are…

“This is a dream,” Kaz tells you, or rather, the Kaz of your imagination tells you as he ends the kiss.

“I know” You reply, opening your eyes.

You see Inej hunched over you and taste something disgusting in your mouth.

“We were poisoned. Go to the door- Wylan will give you another antidote.” She says before leaving to go wake up Jesper.

You crawl your way to the door, still feeling the lingering effects of the poison. “Wylan. Antidote?” You croak.

Once you are given the butterfly, you make your way over to Kaz, the only person still under the effects of the poison.

XXXXX

Kaz is confused. He wakes up, back on that mountain of bodies in the river, but his brother is alive.

“Jordie?” He asks, confused.

His brother stares at him, full of rage. Without a word, he begins to drown him. Just when Kaz has almost lost all of his oxygen, his brother pulls him back out from under the water.

“Who are you without your vengeance?” Jordie yells.

“Kaz. Wake up” You say, one gloved hand cupping the side of his face, the other moving his jaw to try to force him to chew. He can’t hear you.

“What is the worth of life if you have no one left to fight for?” Jordie asks, before plunging him under the water again.

“Kaz” You repeat, and he hears you this time. “You’re going to be alright”

You come into focus in a water gaze, the remnants of the poison still giving a dreamlike quality. It takes him a few moments to realize that it’s no longer a hallucination and that both of your hands are on his face. Gloved hands.

You pull your hands away from his face as soon as you see him come out of it.

“Sorry,” You say.

You don’t have to apologize, he thinks.

XXXXX

“Kaz, a word?” You say, wanting to get him alone. You’ve obtained the Neshyenyer and are getting ready to head to East Ravka.

He nods in acknowledgment while the others in the room make no effort to leave.

“Alone.” You add, so the others get the picture.

Everyone exchanges suspicious glances with one another except Kaz, who is only looking at you. Nina winks as she passes you on her way out of the room. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

You position yourself by the door, a good five feet away from him, in order to respect his boundaries. The boundaries that you’ve consistently had to cross recently to protect him.

“What do you need?” He asks.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

Of course he isn’t, but you want him to admit that. You suspect he’ll respond with something defensive, something clever, something like “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” or “Why does it matter?” or “We have a job to do”. For it to be like the dream.

“Are you?” He responds.

“No. And I’m getting a little tired of pretending I am.” You answer honestly. The difference between you, and all the other crows, and hell, everyone else that you interact with, is that you aren’t emotionally repressed. You don’t hide it under a sense of revenge, don’t mask it with a face of no emotion, and don’t keep your true thoughts and feelings hidden under a veil of humor. He told you it was a weakness, once.

“You’re still wearing the gloves.” He comments.

You glance down at your gloved hands and then back at him. “So I am.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.” You don’t have to do anything for me, He thinks.

“I know.” You say, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

There is a long silence as you look at each other, not really sure what to say.

“I wanted you to stay,” He states, looking away from you. Almost as if he’s ashamed that he’s allowing himself to be this vulnerable. “When you asked me in the alley… I wanted you to stay.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat at the admission. Maybe the poison-induced hallucination wasn’t too farfetched after all.

“I’ll stay.” You take a step towards him, still unsure of his boundaries. Still unsure how close or far you can get without causing him pain.

“Will you tell me why?” You ask. I can’t help you through something when I don’t know why it causes you pain.

“I don’t know if I can,” It’s the first genuine answer you’ve gotten out of him in a long time.

“When we were poisoned I- you were in my hallucination,” You admit, taking a few more steps closer to him.

“What happened in your hallucination?” He asks. Throughout this, he’s made no effort to move from his seat at the table, but his heartbeat has become steadily faster, stronger.

“I was angry at you- but you seemed to understand why. And you took your gloves off and touched me and- that’s how I knew it wasn’t real.” You reply. “What did you hallucinate?” You add, not wanting him to ruminate on your confession too long.

“My brother was drowning me,” He states.

“I’m sorry,” You say, reflexively.

“He asked me, ‘What is the worth of life if you have no one left to fight for?’ and then I saw you,” You’ve never seen him sheepish before- vulnerability doesn’t exactly suit him.

“Oh,” You breathe. “So what now?”

“We go to East Ravka.”

“Right,” You say, trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Time to save the world. Again.”

“We’re not saving it. We’re just getting paid.” Kaz responds.

You steel yourself, trying not to beat yourself up for thinking you were finally getting somewhere. That this would be anything more than words.

"After. We will discuss us after." He adds, quelling your doubt. "We still have a job to do."

You nod.

"I'm here if you need me." You say, turning to leave.

"I know," Kaz replies.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x gn!reader #aspiring thanatologist writes #title is pulled from the lyrics of only you lonely you by andrew lloyd webber

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averagewriter-inthedark · 5 months

Text

The Old Therebefore 🐍🕊️ | A Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place after the events of S&B S2

My masterlists

Characters & Pairings: gang leader!reader x Crows (platonic). Kaz Brekker x reader (slight tension)

content warnings: profanity, mentions of violence and death, typical SOC themes. | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4k

Premise: it’s not often Kaz Brekker needs assistance to a job involving anyone other than his Crows. Yet, there is always a first. When a job comes involving not only a high cash prize but also chances of coming out alive slim, Kaz accepts it is out of his skill level. So, what does he do? Take a risk by recruiting his top rival since Pekka Rollins was run out of town….she’s got the charm of a snake with a voice of a songbird.

Note: so as you can tell by the title of the imagine and song linked, I saw the new hunger games movie (back in November) and literally could not stop thinking about this song/scene. Then of course my hyperfixations like to collide and wallah: here is the end result.

Disclaimer as always: the song and lyrics belong to Suzanne collins and all the SOC characters belong to Leigh Bardugo

---------

“You know, Kaz, I know better than to question you on most things,” Jesper scanned his surroundings, voice low with slight concern. “But I can’t help but wonder why you’ve decided to drag us to the ‘Snake Pit’ tonight.” The sharpshooter sipped his glass of rum after a close inspection, “mind telling us.”

Seated around him, Inej, Nina, and Wylan expressions bore the same unease. All on high alert the moment Kaz led them through the doors and down the spiral staircase into the Barrel’s infamous Snake Pit.

Located deep on the opposite side of the Crow Club, the Snake Pit was an underground bar/club. Home of the legendary crime gang, the Blood Serpents. They’d been around since Kaz was 15, their leader to have been the same age as him. Yet the public knew very little of the notorious boss. Only by their code name.

The Snake Charmer

Of course, this information made Kaz lose his mind at times. Unable to identify his anonymous rival who’s bested him on multiple occasions. If the opportunity arose, Kaz would pay any amount of kruge to find out who the Snake Charmer was. It’d been well over a decade. His patience was running thin.

Finally, the wait would pay off in the form of a messenger boy.

Knowing Inej was too recognizable, Kaz sent a young member of the Dregs--who was under the radar to the other gangs--to infiltrate the Snake Pit the week prior. The boy returned hours later to relay a crucial piece of information. Now, Kaz was to test that theory.

Clutching his cane, the crime boss did not spare a glance to his fellow Crows the second they entered the Pit. Even when they took claim to a rounded booth in a far corner by the bar. His attention was occupied. Analyzing the club and its features. Mentally noting the Blood Serpent members, who were identifiable by their red snake tattoos on their hands.

One of which was the bartender that served them drinks. A young woman about their age, she wore a maroon pin-stripped 5 piece suit although the blazer was forgone. The tattoo was on full display. Kaz assessed her lingering on him when she pushed the tray of drinks toward Jesper. Likely recognizing him and by default the rest of the Crows. The bartender didn’t say anything after, only giving a nod before moving to the next customer.

To the other Crows, they thought Kaz’s intense stare on the bartender was either because he thought she was attractive or making note she was just another member of the Serpents. But, what they did not know was Kaz figuring out if she was the Snake Charmer.

“A woman?” he questioned the boy, narrowing his eyes. “You are telling me the Snake Charmer--leader of the Blood Serpents--is a woman and works under the guise of an employee at the Snake Pit. Are you positive?”

The boy nodded profusely, “Yes, Mr. Brekker. I can assure you it was no man singing that song. She sounded like a siren if I must say. She calmed the snakes like it was nothing-- I see why they call her Snake Charmer.”

So a woman was responsible for a lot of Kaz’s failures. Not to mention winning the territory he’d hoped to gain when Pekka was defeated. They’d come to a settled agreement through a middle man. An action that annoyed Kaz. But he knew better than to wage war with the Snake Charmer.

So far the women in the gang he’s managed to identify besides the bartender were two serving girls, a door bouncer, and two poker dealers. A total of six. Of the men, most of them were standing on the walls and mingling along the floor.

Bet she didn’t expect him to enter her den.

The Snake Pit was exactly like what the boy described. Dark wood floors and walls up to the high ceilings. Dangling chandeliers, poker tables, two bars on either side. Booths aligned the walls. The most notable and unique trait, however, was the glass snake enclosure right smack in the middle of the floor. It was cylinder shaped at the bottom, lining the floor to the ceiling where it branched out on either side to resemble a tree. Plants and dirt filled it.

As did ten serpents. Ranging from tiny garden snakes to a python.

Jesper cringed when his eyes landed on it. Wylan looked deathly afraid. Nina found it amusing. Inej thought it was fitting. Kaz was pleased to see it. To him, that was ammunition.

Kaz answered Jesper with one word that told the whole story, “Business.”

“What business could you possibly have with the Snake Charmer?” Inej questioned, hand on her side close to her knives. “Don’t you think we should be discussing the plan?”

“And we are,” Kaz rebutted, leaning into the booth with his gaze set on the enclosure. “We’re here to flush out the Snake Charmer.”

Jesper choked on his drink, meanwhile Nina and Inej looked at Kaz like he was crazy. “You’re fooling us aren’t you?” “Boss, jokes aren’t really your thing--.” “You’re insane, Kaz, if you believe that’ll happen.”

“You see that enclosure?” He cut off their rambling. All responded with a look of, ‘Of course we see the ginormous Snake habitat in the middle of the club full of our enemies.’ Kaz nodded to it, “we need to destroy it.”

Once again, Jesper choked. This time on his saliva. “You’ve lost it,” he ignored the glare from his boss, “Did going through the fold change you, Kaz? Clearly you’re not actually thinking we let loose a dozen snakes,” he leans forward to whisper, “we don’t even know if they’re venomous. If their bites don’t kill us, surely their owner will.”

Analyzing Kaz, Inej lowered her tone, “what are you not telling us, Kaz?”

Giving one last scan of his surroundings, Kaz addressed his Crows with the truth of why he brought them to the Snake Pit. “I have a lead on who the owner of this establishment is.” Their reactions were immediate, Kaz continued. “A week ago I sent a young messenger boy here to scout out the place--find anything that could help identify the Serpents boss. During closing he snuck into one of their storage closets,” Kaz attempted to locate said closet, somewhere behind one of the bars.

Kaz paid close attention to the bartender and the poker dealers. “At some point in the night, one of the snakes got loose. Or,” he turned to Jesper and Inej, “my theory is they use those snakes as a means to get information on people.”

“Great,” Nina sighs, “you want us to free the Serpent's torture method. Well done, Brekker. Excellent plan if I must say.” The heartrender received a glare, but Kaz did not entertain it further.

“As I was saying,” his tone was stern, making the others hold onto any additional comments. “The boy overheard the panic of one of the Serpents. Turns out, the Snake Charmer doesn’t take kindly to her pets being mishandled.”

“I can see why,” Jesper mutters, glancing at the enclosure.

Kaz gripped his cane, watching the female bouncer approach the bartender and exchange words. “He then heard a woman’s voice. Singing.”

Wylan raised a brow, “Singing?”

“Whatever it was, it calmed the snake. Allowed her to return the animal back to its case. The boy said he heard arguing between a couple members who hoped to clean up their mistake before the boss discovered it.” Kaz shifted in his seat, “didn’t end well for them.”

“Did you get a look at her face?” Kaz peered out his office window, facing the direction of the Snake Pit’s location. Moonlight shining down, almost as though the Saints wanted him to see the building. Behind him, he heard the boy clear his throat.

“No, Sir.” He stuttered, tensing at the sight of Kaz lowering his head. “The door didn’t have any cracks or holes I could see through. I tried looking underneath, but only got a glimpse of their shoes.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “What happened after she finished singing? How’d you get out?”

“Once the snake was handled, she ordered them to her office. She sounded….calm, but you know how you just know when someone is masking their anger. That’s how it was when she addressed them.” Kaz hummed, indicating he understood the boy’s implication. Considering he was guilty of such.

“And then?”

“I waited a few minutes until I was sure they were gone. The direction they went sounded like it was the far left of the club--opposite side of the spiral staircase that’s both the entrance and exit. I think there's a secret back entrance where they were because when I came out it was completely empty.”

Kaz found the secret back entrance. Camouflaged as a bookcase. He was able to spot the hinges carefully placed to where the light made it difficult to see them. But Kaz Brekker knew the art of illusion in the back of his hand.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he became serious. The Crows lean in to hear him while maintaining their alert. “We need to expose those snakes from their enclosure. They’ll be our bait. From there we wait. If my theory is correct, those snakes only answer to their master. Or charmer in this case.” Kaz paused to locate the female workers in the club. “Her act as an employee is a ruse.”

Jesper followed his gaze, once again becoming riddled with unease. “You’re implying the Snake Charmer is either the bouncer who let us in, the gal who served our drinks, the serving girls working the floor or one of the poker dealers?”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, Jesper.”

“Why would she do that?”

Nina snorted, sipping at her whiskey, “Isn’t it obvious?” she didn’t wait for an answer, “no one would pay a second glance to a worker. They are either too drunk or too naive to assume the pretty bartender or serving girl is the boss of one of Ketterdam’s deadly gangs.” She gestured to the serving girl closest to her. “My money’s on her being the Charmer.”

Jesper scoffed, “no way. To be a ghost and retain anonymity all these years you have to have a great poker face.” He states the obvious, “it’s one of the dealers.”

Inej rolled her eyes, “are you seriously making this a competition?”

“You don’t think it could be the bouncer?” Wylan asked, scratching the back of his neck to relax the tension he felt.

“No,” Jesper replied with a wave of a hand, “that would be obvious, don’t you think? Although….,” he rubs his chin, “considering they let us in -- and we know how much you and the Snake Charmer have been rivals so to speak all these years, boss -- you don’t think by letting us through that we walked into some sort of trap?”

Inej immediately straightened, “Jes has a point.” Nina stopped munching on her calamari, waiting for Kaz. She too realized the potential threat.

Kaz, however, remained relaxed. “It’s not the bouncer, but I know the Charmer has already been notified of our presence.” Wylan’s worry intensified.

“What makes you think that?”

“As we’ve been talking I noticed all the women working the club have interacted at some point. Some making it obvious to point us out,” He was referring to the bouncer nodding her head to the one serving girl. “Others are more discreet.” That was to the poker dealer and bartender.

“And yet,” Jesper groans. “You still want us to make a scene. We are literally in a place crawling with snakes--pun not really intended.” the table rolled his eyes at him, save for Wylan who found the joke amusing. “Point is….you want to unleash the Snake Charmer’s serpents into a club full of innocent people--.”

“Innocent,” Nina scoffed under her breath.

“What if one of us gets bitten?” Jesper kept his gaze on Kaz with mild concern. “I don’t believe for a second the Snake Charmer will kindly hand over the antidote to save our lives. She’ll take pleasure in watching us suffer a horrible death.” Picturing the scene, the sharpshooter downs the rest of his drink, cringing in the process. “Saints, this is not how I pictured I’d die.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “No one’s dying today. No mourners.” Everyone glanced at each other.

“No funerals.”

“Right then,” It was time to work. “Here’s what we’ll do….”

A prayer slipped past his lips before Jesper inhaled deeply and let the bullet fly. The sound caused gasps from around him, though he was quick to hide the weapon in its holster before one noticed.

“Who did that?!” came a shout from the bouncer. Patrons were already making their way toward the exit. Not wanting to get caught in a crossfire.

Jesper occupied himself with his rum, glancing over his shoulder to Inej, who signaled to him the bullet did not penetrate the glass completely. Sighing, he downed the contents, waited until it was clear, and shot again.

The second bullet hit the glass with a loud clunk. Once again alerting the occupants of the Snake Pit. Many searched themselves for any sign of blood for fear they were shot by an unknown assailant.

“C’mon,” Jesper whispered, peering at the enclosure. He saw the evidence of his bullet, a chip in the glass near the bottom. If he could time it right, without someone getting in the way, he’d hit the mark.

Meanwhile employees of the club were trying to calm the crowd, “everyone please remain--.” Another shot rang out, more shouts echoing. Kaz’s patience was running thin. Their door to escape started to close as he noticed the security begin to close in on the Crows. No doubt suspecting they were to blame for the chaos.

Kaz Brekker coming to the Snake Pit with his most trusted advisors for only a drink? Yeah right.

Then, almost in slow motion, the sound best described as ice cracking filled his ears. All eyes turned to the enclosure. Fear surfacing as they witnessed spiderwebs painting the glass. Then all hell broke loose when the glass gave way, allowing the beasts freedom from their isolation.

Screams ensued. People climbing from the floors onto tables and chairs. Hissing from the snakes intensified the hysteria. Kaz even found himself moving when the python pivoted in his direction. Jesper of course found himself on top of a chair the moment the glass shattered. Inej was high up on a balcony on the opposite side of the club. How did she get up there? No one knew. Wyalan was close to Jesper. He too found safety on a stool. Nina meanwhile was listening to the heartbeats around here. The number decreased each time a patron made it up the staircase and out the door.

Seconds passed and no sight of the Snake Charmer. Kaz was getting worried. Fearing the plan was a failure. His worry increased when he found himself scurrying on top of a poker table. Distracted with trying to find the workers he suspected of being the Snake Charmer to realize the cobra had got close to him. Had he not acted fast, the man’s leg would’ve fallen victim to its fangs. Catching Jesper’s eye, they shared the concern evident in their expressions. Wondering just how the fuck they were going to escape the situation.

Suddenly his prayers were answered in the form of an angelic voice. Causing the screams to disappear…..

“You’re heading for heaven,

The sweet old hereafter,

And I’ve got one foot in the door.

But before I can fly up,

I’ve loose ends to tie up,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.”

Heads turned, facing the direction of the sound. Their expressions turned into pure shock. Kaz may have had his suspicions, but it still came as a shock to discover he was right all along.

Ketterdam’s notorious crime boss, leader of the Blood Serpents….was the Snake Pit’s bartender.

Walking around the bar, crunching against the glass of broken bottles on the floor from the hysteria of customers fleeing to get away from the snakes, the woman kept her gaze on slithering animals. The hissing continued as she inched closer, however she did not seem fazed at all. Her singing continued.

“I’ll be along,

When I’ve finished my song,

When I’ve shut down the band,

When I’ve played out my hand,

When I’ve paid all my debts,

When I have no regrets,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

The hissing got quieter. The animals turning so they were in line with the woman. Slithering slowly but surely toward her. Confirming to everyone she was their master. Their charmer.

Off to the side, a few of the Blood Serpents rushed in with crates. Pushing people aside. Meanwhile the woman got to her knees, leveling down to the snakes who were now moving toward her. Eyes locked, face serious. The Snake Charmer was obviously trying to keep herself together. But Kaz felt the rage seep off of her.

“I’ll catch you up,

When I’ve emptied my cup,

When I’ve worn out my friends,

When I’ve burned out both ends,

When I’ve cried all my tears,

When I’ve conquered my fears,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

The snakes smaller in size slithered up her outstretched arms. Covering both limbs in a tangle of scales. One slithering up to encase her neck, almost like a necklace. The Cobra took claim to her waist. The python circled her, almost like it contemplated joining its fellow serpents.

Around Kaz, he made out the faint gasps of customers who had yet to depart. Glancing around, he witnessed them all in states of shock and awe. Even his Crows were at a loss of words.

As was he.

The Snake Charmer’s voice turned strong. Echoing through the entire club as she belted out the next verse. Bringing chills to everyone’s arms.

“I’ll bring the news,

When I’ve danced off my shoes,

When my body’s closed down,

When my boat’s run around,

When I’ve tallied the score,

And I’m flat on the floor,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

Rising from the ground, she was covered by the creatures. Her python has wrapped itself around her leg. Its tail was on the floor while its head perched by where the cobra had secured itself on her belt. From the neck down the Snake Charmer was a sight to behold. Revealing why the nickname was not only because she was the leader of a gang filled with snakes.

It was because she was gifted with the talent of charming their namesake.

Moving toward her subordinates holding crates, no doubt to keep the animals contained, the woman passionately sang the final verse. Giving it all she had.

“When I’m pure like a dove,

When I’ve learned how to love.”

Tone dropping, she leaned to lower the snakes into the crates. Gently as though they were newborn babies. Kaz caught her stoke the pythons head, her singing so low it was good the place was dead quiet.

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the snakes were safely stored in the crates. Lids dropping shut with the gang members hurrying from the floor to transport them to another room. No one moved. Any and all eyes focused on the woman in the pinstripe suit. Back turned to the Crows and other patrons, but from the fearful look of her door bouncers, everyone silently prayed they’d make it to the morning.

Moving her neck in a circle, a low crack from the joints that had been stiff, she slowly turned to face the audience. A clenched jaw and fury in her eyes made it clear what was going through her mind. Especially to Kaz, who was fighting to not look away when she instantly met his gaze.

Oh, she knew alright.

“Well…” the Charmer’s tone sent chills along the Crows' bodies. “You’ve certainly got my attention, Mr. Brekker.” Her spite was evident. Complete rage. Likely planning every means of torture she wished to bestow on her rival and his comrades.

It was so quiet. So thrilling. Nobody dared to move a muscle. Patrons watching the stare down between the King, and now the unmasked Queen, of the Barrel. It was captivating yet terrifying. Wondering who would make the first move, and if it will end in a blood bath.

Then she snapped, “Everyone out!!” The floor cleared in seconds. Leaving only Serpents and Crows. They knew better than to attempt an escape. Plus the moment their boss addressed Kaz, the Serpents had circled them to prevent any sudden attack.

Kaz remained composed. Watching closely as the Snake Charmer moved to the bar to pour herself a drink. “Before I kill you, Kaz Brekker, and your little birds too,” she did not look at him, paying attention to the liquid filling the glass. He tightened his jaw. “I want to hear you explain to me why you brought yourselves to my club,” bringing the glass to her lips, she downed half the alcohol in one gulp. Drawing her eyes up to make contact with him, “And destroyed my babies' home.”

Her footsteps echoed, walking toward the center of the floor where Kaz stood. “You’re a smart man.” She took another sip, this time slower. “Not only did you manage to draw me into the light, but you knew exactly how to do so.” A smirk plastered on Kaz’s face. A bold move considering the threat lingering at displaying his smugness to the Serpent Queen. Her lips were in a thin line, “What brings you to my den?”

Straightening his posture, Kaz stepped closer. Their distance is only a mere foot from one another. Making everyone--Crows and Serpents alike--suffocating from the tension between the two.

“You won’t be killing us tonight, Charmer.” If only he knew her real name. Only having her title felt like she had some reign on him. Superior in a sense. The whole Barrel knew him as Dirtyhands, but Kaz Brekker had his own reputation. For her, people can now put a face to the name Snake Charmer. A beautiful woman with the voice of an angel. So powerful it made snakes bend to her will.

Also, people would be shaken by the fact the deadly gang leader served them drinks during their visits to the Snake Pit. Hidden in plain sight. Listening to them spill their drunken secrets.

Kaz leaned closer, the scent of her perfume hitting his nostrils. Jasmine. A flower known to attract snakes. He understood why she wore it. The smell was alluring. As was her presence, but Kaz dismissed the thought as quick as it came. “Doing so will result in you losing an important job I’m willing to negotiate your assistance on. Believe me, the reward is more than generous--enough for the both of us to share.” Now he got her attention, confirmed by the way her head slightly tilted, brow raised.

“Humor me, Brekker.”

“Have you ever heard of jurda parem?”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker fanfic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #Spotify

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Exactly as you are

Previous chapter / Next chapter

summary: when two broken souls meet something is bound to happen.

warning: mentions of past trauma, sexual assault, forceful behavior, groping without consent, touch aversion, murder, blood, fighting.

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"No offense, but this looks like a suicide mission", Jesper said right as Kaz finished going over the details of their newest job. Pekka Rollins has been doing everything in his power lately to bring down Kaz, and his ego was bruised way too much already to let it slide. Not to mention the power the Dime Lions were starting to gain. One misstep and Kaz was going to lose everything that he had worked so hard to get.

"You are in looks for a new owner?", Kaz barked out, and Jesper just shook his head in irritation, "Here I was thinking that we had moved into the brother territory". Those words got followed by Kaz harshly clicking his cane onto the stone floors. A line. A line had been crossed with that. Kaz only had one brother. The one that was dead. Thrown onto a wooden raft. Dead. Clamy and cold. All over. Kaz closed his eyes, lowering his head as the tightness in his chest grew. Threatening. Laughing at him as it choked a breath out of him.

"Look, all I am saying", Jesper had continued after a moment, knowing that the last thing Kaz needed now was someone jumping in to soothe him and God above even acknowledge the anxiety rising inside him, "That there has to be a way to go into this with at least fourth percent chance of coming out alive". Kaz pulled at the top button of his black shirt. The tightness was now uncomfortable. Suffocating. The crows glanced around each other. Nina quickly shook her head. A silent way of saying not to push it. She could feel the painful speed of his heart beating. Yet she knew better than to help slow her boss's heart. Tried it once. Got yelled at, and Kaz hadn't looked her way for over a week. Wylan grasped Jesper's hand as he let out a deep sigh. "Kaz…", Jesper started once more, but the door to the office opened and in you strolled, halting in your steps the moment your eyes landed on the scene in front of you.

You knew what they did. Kaz had told you most things, or at least the things you had to know, the first night. But you weren't a crow. That you knew, and Kaz himself had repetitively reminded you of it. You never went on the jobs. You weren't a part of the meetings or debriefs. The only deeper insight you got was if you were up at night alongside Kaz. When his mind was fuzzy enough that he would start muttering his thoughts out loud. Routes. Names. Object. Numbers.

The four of them looked at you with big eyes but said nothing. Yet you only glance their way for a split second, your eyes instantly moved to Kaz, who was leaning hunched on the table. The glance lingered, but you dropped it. Turning to walk out of the room, knowing that this wasn't something for your eyes. "You, out", Kaz's voice boomed through the room as he gestured to the crows all standing nervously in front of the table. You debated on leaving as well, yet you paused. Something in between the lines, unspoken pleas that made you halt in your track.

Jesper stopped in front of you right before walking out. He wore the emotions on his sleeve. Reading him was so easy. You knew he cared, knew how much he loved Kaz, and how much he was truly ready to sacrifice for him. So you blinked slowly. Letting him know that if only Kaz allowed you, you were going to look after him. Jesper nodded his head. He had no idea what was going on between the two of you behind closed doors, but he was sure of two things - you had altered something in Kaz and he found somewhat of a safe haven in you.

You moved across the room as quietly as a mouse. "You are here to complain about something that I've done as well?", Kaz snarled, lifting his head, you shook your head before reaching for a jug of water. Kaz cocked his head to the side as the family silk scarf caught his eye. You had braided it into your hair which was now neatly wrapped around your head like a crown. He had no idea how you had created that masterpiece but he sure was mesmerized by it. Only brought out of his trance once he heard a glass of water being placed on the table in front of him. Blinking he turned away from you, "Then why are you here?". The tightness in his chest was close to gone and Kaz found himself hating the fact that it passed so easily, so quickly. He enjoyed the pain at times. A cold reminder that he was still alive. The only time Kaz was one hundred percent sure that he was indeed not dead.

You said nothing as you sat down on the other side of the table. Kaz let out a huff and followed suit only now realizing how much his legs ached from putting all his body weight on them without the help of the cane. He ran a hand through his messy hair, now savoring the feeling of air flowing into his lungs. You tapped your finger onto the table to get his attention back on you. Pulling a bundle wrapped into a piece of newspaper. "Finally found the poison to kill me off?", he said making you let out an annoyed huff, as you crinkled your brows at him in annoyance. Kaz didn't acknowledge it, just like most times. No dissatisfaction that you expressed ever seemed to alter his emotions. Well, not that you could see it from the outside.

Kaz tore the paper off, holding up a glass jar of ink, then glancing to the side of the table where his jar sat. Empty. How had he missed that? "Useful", he said, setting the bottle aside before pulling out a handful of papers, "If there's nothing else you are here for, walk yourself out". You pushed the glass of water closer to him, mindful of the paperwork now all over the table. The desire to tell you off was bubbling inside him, but he still reached for the glass, lifting it closer to his lips. You nodded your head in satisfaction before refilling it, knowing that there was no way Kaz was going to do it himself, before stepping out of the study.

The club was way busier than usual for the middle of the week. People were lingering by every corner of the place. All chairs, even the extra ones from the back of the house occupied. "Cute guy alert at six o'clock", Wylan said as he placed the empty glasses onto the bar. Nina and Inej looked up straight away, you followed suit. "Cover Jesper's ears. He might die knowing you find someone besides him cute", Nina chirped, eyes still on the guy. "Not for me, just… for any of you", he quickly defended himself right as the pink shades colored his cheeks. A smile painted your face at how easy it was to fluster him and how much Nina enjoyed doing just that.

You scanned the crowd, trying to find Kaz among them but with no luck. Usually, he was here by now. Rarely did he stay behind fully. If not somewhere tucked away in the corner, observing the commotion, then in his backroom - but not tonight, it seemed. "I'm sure Kaz just lost himself between all of his paperwork", Nina reached for your hand, squeezing it gently but letting go straight away, equally as much as with Kaz knowing not to linger. You nodded your head before moving to dry the washed-up glasses. She could feel the way your heart practically cried to see Kaz. You hated crowds as much as Kaz did. Nina knew that if Kaz had seen the buzz here tonight, you would have already been in the backroom with him, away from all of this noise and bodies. She caught you glancing around the club again as you placed the glasses onto the tray, making sure you had a good grip on it, "You want me to take over?", she asked, and you knew the intentions were good and caring, but you still shook your head. This was your job, and until it was Kaz telling you to back away, you weren't going to stop.

But maybe you should have. Should have listened. Should have taken the offer. Cause the more the night went on and the smell of cigarettes and alcohol grew thicker, the more touchy the males became. You weren't able to carry full trays of beer anymore. Hands too shaky, legs too wobbly to hold them up without spilling. And God forbid you spilled any of it on any of the customers. It was only Wylan, who was still here, and Jesper, but he was somewhere deep within the club most definitely gambling. You ushered Nina through the door about an hour ago. She had been practically sleeping with her face on the bar. And there was no room for a passed-out female in the club full of hacking males. Inej had disappeared as well. She didn't enjoy being in the club as it was, and for that, you couldn't blame her.

You were a handful of steps away from the bar when two sets of hands gripped your forearms, jerking you backward. You were thankful that your hands had been empty because the glasses would have been tumbling down. You only heard laughter and whistles as they dragged you through the floor. Your eyes darted towards the bar, but Wylan wasn't there. A cold shiver ran down your back. You tried to wiggle out of their grip but in all honesty, you knew very well that you had no chance of escaping.

Your back hit the back wall as they stepped in front of you, pinning you beneath them. You haven't seen their faces before. Nor did you want to look. It had been a while since you had found yourself in a situation like this. Helpless. Too weak to defend yourself. Numb it out, you kept telling yourself, numb it all, it'll pass by shortly and then you'll pick yourself back up. "What a pretty piece of art we have here", one of them muttered, the sharp smell of alcohol hitting your nose. "Pekka is looking for a new property", the other male sniffed the side of your neck like a hungry hound, before licking his lips, "You seem just the right fit for his description". You swallowed hard. The name itself made your blood run cold. You didn't know much of the other gang leader, but enough to know that if you were to fall into his arms, the nightmare that would follow would be the worst you ever had.

"But he didn't say anything about in what state you were to be delivered", a tough hand gripped your left breast through the shirt, causing you to shut your eyes tightly. You will not scream. You will obey. If not for yourself. Then for Kaz. Because you couldn't allow yourself a thought of him getting hurt because of you or a scene that you caused. "One against two. Will you fight, baby girl?", the nickname made you cringe so hard that goosebumps ran down your arms, but you shook your head. The taler of the two let out a laugh before roughly yanking the top of your dress open.

"You're playing with my toy, boys", the two of them quickly jerked their heads toward the sound. Kaz had his deadly glare on, and if looks cool kill - they would have been six feet under a long time ago. "I don't see your signature stamp on her, Brekker, or did you mark her somewhere else", the taller one said with a laugh before his hand moved to cup your core with his hand. Even with your dress as a layer between his fingers and your body, the feeling of the touch itself made you bite the inside of your cheek so hard that the metallic taste filled your mouth.

"Want to play? Pay up", Kaz barked harshly, stepping closer. He was on fire, or at least he felt like it. The moment he ran into a breathless Wylan about to go look for him, Kaz knew that something had happened. Something bad must have happened, but he didn't allow himself a chance to let that thought settle as he marched into the club. Considering that most males had their heads turned to the back of the club said enough to him. Showed enough to him as he strides towards the commotion.

"Name the price, little boy", the male dared. Kaz's face twitched. The room fell dead silent, you didn't dare to look, pressing yourself closer to the wall. "Your eyes", Kaz said casually, and not even a second later, the peak of the crow, that was on his cane, ripped through the tall male's eyeball. The scream echoed. Other shouts erupted as people started to flee from the club. Jesper, who must have felt the commotion was quick to rip the other male away from you, hitting his head with the back of his gun. You had slid down the wall. Breathing as hectic as the mess that was unfolding in front of you.

Kaz had no recollection of how many times he had driven the sharp end of his cane through the fuckers face, but he sure as hell was long dead when he was done with him. No one was in the club besides them now. Yet the rage didn't subside. Oh no, it only grew, and Kaz was about to turn to Jesper, who had strict orders to keep an eye on you if he wasn't around to do so himself. But the shaky breath that remained Kaz more of a cry that slipped past your lips, making him turn to you.

Your knees were pressed to your chest. Nails dug into your palms so deep that they drew blood. You were shaking so hard, your whole body spasming as you took shallow breaths that only hit the surface before a sharp cry was pushed away from your lungs. Kaz threw Jesper a death glare as a promise. Promise to skin him after he was done before he fully turned towards you. Limping your way before he fell to his knees not far away from you. Yet leaving a comfortable distance between you both.

"Y/N", he called out, but you didn't seem to hear him, "Y/N", he called out way louder this time. Whatever you were muttering under your breath now Kaz couldn't make out. Now more than even he wished he could just hold you. Not sit a couple of feet away like some weak piece of shit who had brought this upon you. "They are gone, we took care of it", your lower lip quivered at his words. Kaz desperately searched your body for any signs of you coming back, but the cage you had yourself locked into now seemed impossible to break. "Jesper will get you to your room. Nina will sleep with you tonight", the softness in his voice scarred him, but he couldn't be harsh now. Not now. Not with you.

Just the moment Jesper moved to put a hand around you, the most heart-reaching scream slipped past your lips as you backed away. Jesper bit his lip, trying to keep his tears at bay. If anything he deserved whatever was to come after you calmed down and if you calmed down. Kaz backed away slightly as you pushed yourself away from everyone. He was helpless. So helpless that he realized that all the moments of weakness he had gone through till now could never compare to this.

Then your eyes shot open. The fear was in them so big as your hand clasped around your throat. Trying to scratch a path for even a slither of oxygen. Choking. Dying. It looked like you were dying, and Kaz moved towards you as if that had been his second instinct. Bloody gloves clasping your hair as he turned your face towards him. "Breathe, Y/N. Breath, for fuck sake", he cried out angrily. Kaz had already lost Jordie, and he sure wasn't going to lose you now, as well.

His face was inches away from yours. The familiar scent of him crept all around you. The scent that you fell asleep within his bed. The scent that had even mixed into your clothes that were put neatly next to Kaz's in the drawers in his room. With both hands on your face, Kaz hoped to catch your frantic eyes, and when you finally took a big gulp of air, he almost felt reborn. Your shaky palms rested on his chest, where his heart was beating rapidly. Beating. You blinked a couple of times, grounding yourself. Clinging to the feeling of Kaz being so close.

The water inside Kaz was bubbling almost to the top. Too much, for too long, but he couldn't pull away. Not now. Not when he needed to get you out. Even if it meant that he was going to drown himself. That would be worth it. Worth it if only you stayed above the water. "Kaz…", his heart stopped beating when his name rolled off your tongue. Of that he was sure. He met your scared eyes. Eyes in search of him. For him because even after this, you felt safe with him. Even if Kaz didn't deserve it.

"I'm right here, right with you", he whispered to you. Wanting to press his forehead to yours, but he knew that any more skin contacts would have him pulling away. "Kaz", you rasped out again, and he only managed to nod his head as he watched the movements of your chest evening out. Your hands slipped away from his chest when you realized that you had been touching him. A line. You crossed his line. But his eyes didn't look angry. Not with you. Your body slumped, Kaz was quick to catch your shoulders before turning to Jasper, who stepped closer, replacing him.

The taste of sick flooded Kaz's mouth. As he watched you looking at Jesper. He was so gentle with you. Talking you through all of his movements before gathering you into his arms. It should have been Kaz doing that. Pulling you closer. Getting you away from this place. You looked so out of it. So warn out. So small in Jesper's arms. With the adrenaline wearing down, your body was going to crash. Kaz wanted to order Jesper to bring you up to his room, but instead, he leaped towards the nearest bowl that still covered the tables before emptying his stomach. His anxiety needed a way out of his body. When he finally lifted his head neither of you was here. That was what he wanted. Kaz needed to be alone. To dwell in self-pity for a bit before he would make his way back to you. Before he burnt the whole word. Set buildings flying. Ripped bodies with his hands. Just to keep you safe. To not fail you. He couldn't allow himself to fail you.

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

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rubysunnday · 1 year

Text

lavender haze

requested by @roguemetalmaster13: Congrats on 6k! I’ve read your Matthias Helvar fics and I really like them, so I was wondering if you could please write a Matthias x fem or gn reader fic?

summary: when circumstances mean Y/N is forced to face Matthias and her hatred for him, the hatred turns into something more

"Helvar, this is Y/N."

Y/N raised her gaze from the book she was reading, eyed Matthias up and down, and then dropped her gaze back to her book.

Jesper winced. "Yeah, she's uh... she's Grisha so..."

"I don't like Druskelle," Y/N replied, turning a page in her book.

Matthias nodded once. "Fine, I understand."

"I don't think you do, but ok," Y/N said softly, with a humourless chuckle.

"Y/N, put your grudge aside for now," Kaz warned. "We've got a job to do."

Y/N huffed but closed her book, setting it aside on the bar top. "Fine. What are we doing?"

"You," Kaz amended, sliding an empty tray across the top of the bar and to Y/N, "are going to be working our target."

Y/N snatched the tray from Kaz and raised her eyebrows. "I'm doing what?"

"This corset is tight and my boobs are about to fall out," Y/N muttered to herself, yanking the front up.

The Crow Club was full to the bursting with patrons. Y/N was glad she had a moments reprieve behind the bar - away from the people who kept pushing and shoving her and groping her limbs.

The gang was dispersed about the room as well as outside. Kaz was sat in his usual corner, Wylan next to him. Nina was down the other end of the room, flirting with patrons and doing her best to convince them to spend more money. Jesper and Inej were both outside, watching and waiting for their target to walk in.

And Matthias? Matthias was on door duty. Also waiting for their target.

Albert McCarthy was a rich businessman from Belendt and a close friend of Pekka Rollins. Kaz wanted intel on Pekka and who better to ask than McCarthy.

Y/N's job was to get McCarthy drunk enough to spill his secrets to Inej out in the alley behind the club. Which sounded easy. But there was a rumour - a fairly truthful rumour - that McCarthy had been the man dressed as Mister Crimson, who'd killed the young girl in the Sweet Shop.

He was not a nice man.

"I've been asked to check on you," Matthias said, walking up to the bar, leaning his arms on the counter.

"So, you're not here of your own volition or concern," Y/N replied, picking up a shot glass. "Good to know."

Matthias sighed. "I have done nothing to you -"

"Agree to disagree." Y/N looked up at him and gave him a tight lipped smile. "I hold grudges well."

"I've noticed," Matthias muttered. "Y/N, look, I'm not the man I was."

Y/N stepped back, picking up a bottle of rum from behind the bar. "How do I know that, Helvar?" She asked, lowering her voice slightly. "How do I know that, if I trust you, you won't just turn around and sell me to the Fjerdans?"

Hurt flashed across Matthias' face. "I wouldn't. I just wouldn't."

Y/N's eyes focused on someone behind Matthias and she swore. "He's here."

Y/N's heart sped up and she took a deep breath in, forcing herself to calm down. She didn't know if Matthias had picked up on her anxiety or not, but he didn't leave. He stayed by the bad, slightly to the side, looking just like any other patron.

"Evening, sir," Y/N said, beaming at McCarthy as he approached the bar. "Can I get you anything?"

McCarthy smiled at her, tilting his head slightly. "Glass of whiskey, please..."

"Rosita," Y/N replied, reaching down behind the bar.

"Beautiful name. Just like the person." McCarthy sat down at the bar and leant forward. "Make that two glasses."

"Oh?"

"One for me and one for you - I like to drink with company."

"My boss doesn't allow drinking on the job," Y/N said, pouring the whiskey into a glass.

McCarthy leant across the bar and grabbed another glass, his hand brushing against Y/N's. "I'm sure he won't mind one."

Y/N sighed dramatically. "Fine."

She had one drink and then one more, watching the McCarthy the entire time as, for every one sip she took, he drank the entire glass.

It wasn't long before McCarthy was drunk and swaying in his seat. Y/N had come round for the bar to sit on the stool next to McCarthy (and Matthias). McCarthy's hands kept roaming from her legs to her waist to her arms and it was all Y/N could do to sit there and giggle - to let it happen.

"How about we take this outside?" McCarthy suggested, his words slurring together.

Y/N almost cheered. He really was making this easy for himself.

She took his hand and pulled him off his stool, giggling playfully as he fell off it and into a table. They went through the back door and out into the alley, the cold night air a sharp change from the stuffy interior of the club.

McCarthy rounded on Y/N as soon as they were outside, pushing her against the wall and pressing his body to hers. Y/N was fighting with herself now to not hit him, to push him away, to panic.

She saw Inej rather than heard her. She appeared from the shadows, looming ominously behind McCarthy, a dagger in her hand.

McCarthy's hand began to wander up her skirt, the material gathering in his hands and Y/N nearly broke. But then Inej stepped forward, knife pressed to the back of McCarthy's neck.

"Step back," Inej hissed. "And turn away."

McCarthy, feeling the point of the blade against his neck, did as he was told. His desire turned to disgust as Y/N moved away from the wall, coming to stand beside Inej.

"Wraith," McCarthy sneered.

"Aw, Inej," Y/N cooed, "he knows your name."

It was interesting, watching Inej interrogate someone. Y/N had never really paid attention to it before, often preoccupied with doing something else for a job, or acting as a silent observer who really wasn't observing.

"We know you're friends with Pekka Rollins," Inej began, slowly and meticulously twirling her knife between her fingers.

"What of it?"

Inej took a calculated step forward. "He has a glass factory up north. That doesn't make any glass. Sound peculiar to you, Y/N?"

"Very peculiar," Y/N replied. "Almost as if its a front for something."

McCarthy laughed. "What is this? A pathetic attempt at interrogation from two children?"

Both Inej and Y/N rolled their eyes at that. They were both more than used to the skepticism of men, and women, in Ketterdam. They were barely twenty - Inej and Wylan looked like they were still in their teens - and people rarely took them seriously. But as soon as Inej took her knives out or Y/N clicked her fingers and fire appeared, they quickly changed their minds.

So, they did jut that. In a well rehearsed movement, Inej unsheathed her twin knives and Y/N snapped her fingers, fire flaring up and dancing across her skin and down to her palm.

McCarthy blanched and took a step back, his cocky demeanour vanishing as it always did when a merchant was threatened. They felt powerful until they didn't.

"Alright, alright, let's not be hasty," McCarthy said. "I'll talk."

McCarthy launched at Inej but the girl deftly jumped to the side, leaving her foot in McCarthy's path. He tripped on it and stumbled forward. As he did, Y/N came forward, her fingers burning orange. She wasn't going to harm him with her fire - she just wanted to taunt him.

Her fire flew threw the air, catching on the fabric of an empty stall behind McCarthy and exploding into a roar of orange. McCarthy stumbled back and growled.

It was predictable what McCarthy did next. But Y/N's lack of sleep over the last few days meant her reflexes were slow. McCarthy launched to his right and harshly shoved Y/N aside.

She lost her footing, going over on the heels of her shoes, and fell back into the wall behind her, smacking her head, hard. Y/N gasped, swearing as her hand shot up to the back of her head. She dug her nails into her scalp, trying to even out the pain.

Inej crouched down to the ground and rolled forward, propelling herself under McCathy's legs. She shot up the other side, slicing her knife along his leg as she did so.

McCarthy screamed out in pain, his leg buckling and folding beneath him. Inej loomed over him, twirling her knife between her fingers.

"Please," McCarthy panted, beads of sweat gleaming on his forehead. "Please, I'll tell you what you want, just don't hurt me."

Inej's lips quirked up into a smile, her teeth peeking out. "I like it when men beg."

It was like a lightning strike. Inej pounced, punching McCarthy in the face, knocking the man to the floor and rendering him unconscious.

"Is he dead?"

Y/N flinched, clicking her fingers and summoning fire. Matthias took an abrupt step back, his hands flying up into surrender.

"Saints, Helvar," Y/N said, falling back against the wall behind her, "has no one told you to not sneak up on two women in an alley at night?"

Inej laughed, wiping her knives down on her trouser leg. "No, he's not," she answered, sheathing them, "just out cold. Jesper and Kaz can deal with his chatter, I'm too tired."

"Agreed," Y/N said. She put her hand to her head again and winced, quickly pulling it back. In the dim light of the alleyway, she could see something wet on her fingers. "You don't need me, do you?"

Inej shook her head, pulling her hood up. "No. Go get some sleep while you can."

Y/N nodded her thanks and yanked open the side door. The warmth and noise of the Crow Club greeted her. She began to climb the stairs up to her room, the pounding in her head gradually increasing with each step up.

She got to the first floor landing and wobbled, putting a hand out, finding the wall.

The floorboards behind her creaked but she didn't react. She knew who it was. Matthias was not stealthy.

"Come to finish me off, Druskelle?" Y/N asked, panting softly as she tried to catch her breath.

Matthias sighed. "How long before you trust me?"

Y/N turned. "How long before you stop hating Grisha?"

"I haven't hated Grisha in a long time," Matthias said, stepping up onto the landing. "Believe it or not, people can change."

Y/N looked at Matthias, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. "My parents were captured and sent to the Ice Court for trial," she said quietly. "I hid. Even as the screaming started, I hid. I didn't come out until a group of second army arrived and carried me out of there."

Matthias was silent, gazing at her intently, his eyes scouring her face. Y/N met his gaze, the silence growing around them. She didn't need to finish her story - Matthias knew.

"I am sorry, for what my people did," he said softly, his accent sounding stronger now than it had done before.

"Thank you," Y/N whispered. She sub-consciously put a hand against the wall, readjusting her weight slightly. "No one has ever apologised before."

Matthias' gaze turned to concern as he noticed Y/N leaning heavily on the wall. "Are you ok?"

"Ahuh," Y/N said, trying not to nod. "I smacked my head against the wall when he shoved me."

Matthias moved close. "Can I look?"

"It's fine -"

"Please?"

Y/N hesitated but ultimately relented. She turned around and stepped back, brushing against Matthias' chest as she did so. He gently prodded the back of her head, his fingers parting and holding up sections of hair.

It was almost relaxing. Well, it was relaxing. Y/N closed her eyes and leant into his touch. Matthias moved slightly closer, letting Y/N lean back against him.

Y/N had always wanted to be closer to Matthias. Seeing how he was around Nina and Inej - the way he acted with them and hugged them made her yearn for it. But she hadn't trusted him. Because she knew better.

Now, however... she still knew better. But now there was understanding - acceptance.

Y/N turned around, Matthias' hands falling to his sides as she did so. "This is all I've ever wanted," Y/N said quietly. "To be closer to you."

"No one was stopping you."

"Except myself," Y/N whispered. She ducked her head for a moment before raising it again. "I just wanted this. To hold you and smile at you... to hear you laugh at my jokes."

"And now?" Matthias asked, his hand brushing against Y/N's.

Y/N took a deep breath in at the touch, goosebumps dancing up her arms. She took the plunge and leant forward, pressing her lips to Matthias'.

Realising what she'd done, Y/N pulled away. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her hands shaking slightly.

Matthias looked at her. His gaze dropped to her lips. He launched forward, forcing Y/N to take a step back. His hands wrapped around her waist as his lips trailed kisses down her neck, onto her collarbone and back up again.

They were hungry for one another. Y/N wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

Matthias bent his knees, put an arm under Y/N's legs and scooped her up, never once breaking the kiss. She wrapped an arm around his neck, breaking her lips from his for a moment, just to catch her breath.

Y/N leant her forehead against his, panting hard. Perhaps it had come out of nowhere, the sudden desire to hold him and want him. But, at the same time, maybe it had been festering underneath her hatred since the beginning.

Her hatred had evolved into something more.

"Stop thinking," Matthias mumbled. "Just kiss me again."

So she did.

Matthias grinned against her lips as he turned and carried her down the corridor, pushing open the door to her room with ease.

He laid Y/N down on the bed and she giggled, bouncing slightly against the cushions. Matthias climbed on top, one knee either side of her legs, his hands resting on her thighs.

Y/N looked up at him and couldn't help the excitement pooling inside her. "Yes?" She asked, needing to know.

His lips curled into a smile and Y/N melted a little bit more. "Yes." Matthias leant down and pressed his lips to the space below her ear. Y/N arched up into him, her hands fisting into the material of his shirt. "Absolutely, yes."

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #fic #fanfic #six of crows fic #shadow and bone fic #matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar imagine #matthias helvar

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nophunleague · 8 months

Text

Rafael Barba Appears at the 16th Precinct Again

Rafael Barba x gn!reader

warnings: angst, grudge holding.

You all but crash into the conference room at the 16th, anxious to tell the squad that Mickey Davis had gotten some hot shot attorney, that you had heard courthouse gossip about it. The door swings open and you're met by Kat, Fin, Rollins, and Rafael.

His green eyes almost darken at the sight of you. He's not shocked that you're here, it's just the shock of not having seen you in years that strikes him. Taking in the crowd in the room you barely blink before spitting out at Rafael, "oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, you just look like someone I used to know," before spinning on your heel and storming back out into the squad room. You don't even look up at Liv and the deputy chief as they pass you. Amanda follows after you after Rafael is pulled into Liv's office by the Captain and Deputy Chief Garland. You're sat at your desk, head up in a thousand yard stare.

"Well I think you definitely hurt his feelings, if that's what you were going for," you're broken from your gaze by her speech and you look up to her from your seated position.

"After what he put me through I think what I said was fairly tame."

"You might be right about that, but maybe think about what he's been through too. He nearly threw his entire career away and had to leave you in the process," she tries to reason with you but your eyes narrow as she keeps talking.

"He didn't have to leave me and he should have talked to me first. I showed up to work one day and he was gone. The man I loved left me without a single word. It felt like my life fell apart," you seethe. Amanda looks over your shoulder to see Rafael standing behind you.

"That's very mature of you," she says before walking away, he walks up behind you and gently lays a hand on your shoulder. But you hadn't notice him yet so as he makes contact with your body you jump to face him, hand on your holstered weapon.

"Woah," he throws his hands up, "its just me," you scoff but remove your hand from your hip.

"Just you? Just you?" You start to pace back and forth in front of him, searching for the words to tell him off. But deep down you're glad to see him, he looks healthy, the beard he's grown compliments him.

"We should talk."

"Oh you want to talk now? But you didn't want to talk four years ago when you left," you all but shriek, your voice sparking the attention of those in the precinct. "You pulled the plug on someone's baby, were charged with murder, acquitted, and then you left me. And you didn't talk to me about any of it. We were supposed to be together and you left me out of it," your voice continues to raise as you takes steps closer to him, ending up in his face. His eyes search yours trying to find the person who he had once loved, but all he find is someone who has undoubtedly been incredibly hurt by his actions. The tears are threatening to spill from you eyes but you stay strong. Your raised voice causes Liv to step outside of her office.

"Both of you, take it outside. Now," you glance between Rafael and Liv before turning on your heel and storming out with Rafael following close behind. You meet again in the elevator where this time you stay silent.

"I didn't know how to tell you I was leaving, so I just left," he says quietly. "It wasn't the right thing to do, you didn't deserve that, but I needed to leave here. I was suffocating," the both of you stare at the elevator doors, not daring to look at one another. You reach up and hit the elevator switch, stopping the elevator in its descent.

"No, I didn't deserve that," a tear escapes your left eye at last, but you don't wipe it away. "You threw me away like I meant nothing to you. I would have went with you if you had just talked to me."

"You meant everything to me. I just couldn't let you throw your NYPD career away to come with me on the campaign trail. You were just getting to the point of being on the precipice of making sergeant," his eyes are now glued to the side of you head while you keep looking at the doors. You take a second to think about what you're going to say before raising your voice and making direct eye contact.

"Yeah well I failed the sergeant's exam twice since you left so I'll only ever be a detective now," Rafael can feel the holes your eyes are burning in him, his breath kicks up and he's uncharacteristically speechless for a moment. You huff and flip the elevator switch again allowing it to continue its descent. The doors open on the ground level of the 16th and you start to take a step out when he speaks.

"The day I did what I did to Baby Drew I was meant to pick up a ring. An engagement ring," he hangs his head, not looking at you.

"Oh so one day you were thinking about getting married and then next you were throwing everything we had together away? I don't know why you came back, but I don't think there's any fixing this. Not right now anyway," you shake your head as a few more tears fall.

"Liv and Fin called me," he admits.

"Oh even better, you didn't even come back for me. Tell Liv that I'll be back in a little bit," you storm out of the precinct. Rafael runs a hand through his hair as a tear now escapes one of his eyes. He composes himself quickly then presses the floor number of the squad room to go back up.

"I really fucked that up," he says to himself.

#law and order svu #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #svu #svu imagine #rafael barba imagine #raul esparza #special victims unit

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ametrinearrows · 8 months

Text

Love's Leap

Seth Rollins and I had been the best of friends for years in the intense world of WWE. We had traveled together, trained together, and faced countless challenges side by side. But lately, something had shifted between us, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

One evening, as we were both backstage before a show, I decided to confide in one of my fellow Superstars, Ember Moon. She was perceptive and had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I leaned against a stack of equipment cases. "Ember, something's different with Seth and me, and I don't know what to do about it."

She looked at me with a knowing smile. "You mean the whole 'best friends' thing is getting a little complicated?"

I nodded, feeling a mixture of frustration and longing. "Exactly. I can't help but wonder if there's something more between us, but I'm afraid to ruin our friendship."

Ember raised an eyebrow. "Well, have you talked to him about it?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't. I don't even know how to bring it up."

Ember gave me an encouraging nudge. "YN, sometimes you just have to be honest with yourself and with him. You can try asking him how he feels. It might be scary, but it's better than letting your feelings linger in the shadows."

Her words hit home, and I knew she was right. It was time to have that conversation with Seth, no matter how daunting it seemed.

Later that evening, as we were both sitting in the locker room, I mustered the courage to broach the subject. "Seth, can I talk to you about something?"

He looked up from lacing his boots, his blue eyes meeting mine. "Sure, YNN. What's on your mind?"

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "Lately, I've been feeling like there's something more between us, something beyond just friendship. Have you ever thought about that?"

Seth's expression softened, and he set aside his boots, giving me his full attention. "YNN, I've been feeling the same way."

Relief washed over me as I realized that we were on the same page. "Really?"

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to risk our friendship, but if you feel the same way..."

I couldn't help but smile back at him. "I do, Seth. I really do."

And in that moment, our friendship transformed into something more, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for years. It was scary, but it was also exciting, a new chapter in our lives together.

Our lips met in a sweet, hesitant kiss that spoke volumes of our unspoken feelings. It was a kiss filled with years of shared moments, trust, and a newfound desire to explore this uncharted territory of love.

Seth pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against mine. "YNN, I can't believe we're doing this."

I chuckled softly, my fingers gently tracing his cheek. "Me neither, Seth. But sometimes, you have to take a leap of faith."

He grinned, his eyes filled with affection. "I'm glad we're taking this leap together."

We shared another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate, a promise of what was to come. As we pulled away, Seth spoke, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and tenderness. "So, where do we go from here, YN?"

I leaned in, resting my forehead against his. "We take it one step at a time, Seth. We've got a strong foundation as friends, and now we're building something even stronger."

He nodded in agreement. "I like the sound of that."

As we continued to talk, the fear of jeopardizing our friendship slowly melted away. We discussed how we would navigate our new relationship within the world of WWE, where our lives were often on public display.

Seth squeezed my hand, his eyes locked onto mine. "No matter what, YNN, we'll face it together."

I smiled, feeling a sense of security in his words. "Together, Seth."

And with that, we sealed our newfound love with another kiss, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, we had each other to lean on. Our journey had taken an unexpected turn, but it was a journey we were both excited to embark upon, hand in hand, as lovers and best friends.

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Seth rollins #Seth rollins x reader #Seth rollins imagine #Seth rollins imagines #Seth rollins fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

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basilone · 4 months

Text

Fandom: Masters of the Air Written for: @blind-dates-fest as my 2024 entry! Introducing: Cressida Dorrance-Jones, with sidenote entries for Valerie Hodges and Evelyn Carter.

"That's not a sawmill up there, Buck." The blonde woman's voice is even. Matter of fact. Cuts through the haze of several men talking at once, long enough to make their whole table go quiet. The look on her face is too serene to be accusatory. "That was a goddamn meat grinder."

Major Cleven – Buck – does not dissent. "Yeah." There's a barely-there sigh lurking in that one admission, as if he is only now releasing his breath. His crew seems to almost exhale at the same time he does. Following his lead even when on the ground, especially after he fixes each of them with a swift look. "Now we know."

"And I need to know everything about that meat grinder," interjects Cressida, unfolding the last part of the map out on the table. Sets her coffee cup on the part of the map that always seems to have a mind to curl back up and leave her hanging out to dry. "Rule of the table: you talk only when I address you. Rule of the table: you dig deep when I ask for clarification. Rule of the table: you paint the whole picture as you saw it up there. Understood?"

There's a scuffle under the table. A swift motion of feet that almost reaches her legs before aiming a little more to her right. The blonde woman is all but sinking down into her seat, tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth as she puts in just a bit more effort.

"Ow!" The blue-eyed lieutenant beside her jolts in his seat. Fixes the blonde with a glare. "Val, seriously?"

"Understood, ma'am," rasps Valerie Hodges, sitting up straight again now that her goal's seemingly been accomplished. Cressida makes a mental note of the fact that the woman doesn't object to the shortening of her name. "I have some notes, if they help?"

"You're the navigator?"

"Radio ops, sorry," comes the unapologetic grin, right before a small notepad is shoved her way. "I've marked the time Curt here"– a nod at the lieutenant she just kicked in the shins –"started to shout in my ears about flak. Hit that earlier than I'd thought, then had the fighters come in hot on the tails of that."

Cressida glances down at a sequence of numbers that would not have been amiss in an actual navigator's log. Notes the shakiness of the sevens and fives, followed by quick dashes and dots. Her eyebrow quirks up despite herself. It's not every day a log comes back with partial encoding on it that would slow the Germans down for all of a minute.

"Unorthodox," she remarks out loud, "but perhaps helpful." She'll allow it, if only because Val's well-aimed kick seems to have halted the lieutenant's previous staring in its tracks. "You were wheels up here," she continues, indicating their starting point on the map, "and headed to Bremen through the pre-marked blue path here"– a new map for every mission, no matter the complaints from supplies –"which would put the flak here."

"Earlier," says the Major, not even glancing up at her for confirmation the way other pilots do. "Right around there"– comes the mark of his finger that lingers just long enough for her to confirm it with a swift cross of her pencil –"which I know because we weren't the first to get the hit."

"Had enough time to confirm the fact that we were in some deep shit now," laughs the lieutenant, even when none of his bravado remotely reaches his eyes. "First to get hit was Bonny Lass. Luck of the Irish, and all."

"Bonny Lass was on our right wing at two o'clock, bearing east."

"Two fifteen."

Cressida narrows her eyes at the lack of accuracy. Her pencil hovers just between two and two fifteen on the east scale as the back-and-forth between lieutenant and one of the waist gunners does not seem to be dying down. They're not at raised voices yet like the table in the back clearly is – Rollins can never keep his table under control after mission for long – but letting them work it out between them is going to save her a spot of trouble once she actually does need to put her foot down. New tables are like this, sometimes. First time up, first time down. It’s never an easy deal, and she’s got enough sense to not make it harder than it needs to be.

"Two ten." The Major's voice is decisive. "Mark that. Miss Demeanor and the rest of that cluster was on our left flank when Bonny Lass was hit."

"Miss got her wing clipped about five minutes following that, is that right?" asks Cressida, making out a five and the Morse abbreviation for Miss Demeanor on Val's notes. Nods around the table have her marking out a half-moon clip on the map. "When did the fighters come in?"

"When the flak died."

"Yeah."

"There was a minute or two of nothing," allows the lieutenant, "and they swept in so damn fast from that bank of clouds."

"They were already wheels up?" Cressida arches her brow. "Unusual if so," she remarks, remembering the sit-downs with the fighter pilot crew that had scoped out the area prior to the bombing run. Charlotte Rivers, in particular, had been adamant about a ground base rise. "Where would you put them on the map, Lieutenant?"

"Curt, please," he repeats like he did when she was first introduced to him not ten minutes ago. "I'd put them here, ma'am."

"They came from the ground," corrects Evelyn Carter decisively, tapping a spot just beside Curt's indication. "Straight up from there, I saw them clear enough." Her finger stands out dark against Curt's paler hand, so much so that Cressida wonders how the young woman ever passed muster long enough to not be drafted into the Tuskegee side of the war. "They like to hide in the cloud banks, right? Damn bastards thought they could get high enough to be clear of me that way. Clipped one of them on the tail as they went past here, though."

"You got another on the wing."

"Nah, he was too steady on, think I missed him."

"One-Eye missing her prize? Never!"

"It's not a clean turkey shoot, asshole," laughs the young woman who was introduced to her as both Evelyn Carter and the moniker One-Eye. Both her dark eyes, despite her laughter, remain rather hollow as she looks around the table. "They were so much faster than I'd thought."

"A familiar comment," allows Cressida, now that the table's murmuring assent. It's not her habit to comfort anyone at this table, but sometimes it helps move matters along to let them know their experience is not a standalone. "We know they're fast. They work in teams that allow refuel. In comparison, our fortress is the fattest turkey they'll get to shoot at."

"Whole Thanksgiving dish," snorts Val beside her. "Hey, Major, when are we going up for seconds?"

"Eyes front," snaps Cressida, tapping the smaller woman's shoulder until she stops grinning up at Major Egan. Egan's just about the last one she needs to interrupt the table read. "Fighters came in there, who was at the helm?"

"Bunny?"

"Not Veal, at least?"

"Wasn't it Ferret?"

"Jesus Christ, what was your formation? Don't tell me you all lost your minds up there and broke it?" Cressida's voice rises above the din of confusion. She slaps the table for good measure. "Eyes on this map, navigator starts talking, radio ops can comment, the rest of you are mouth shut and watching for now. Got it?"

"Hell of an iron fist you’ve got there, Cressida."

"Stop talking, John," she says, not even bothering to glance up at him.

"We got it, Captain Dorrance-Jones," affirms Major Cleven, sending her the smallest of what appears to be an apologetic smile. She decides she likes him just a little bit more for not getting too friendly with her the way Egan so clearly wants to be. "We didn't lose our heads, ma'am. Formation was solid up there.” His next words ring out with a hint of warning. “Let's focus, guys."

Cressida leans forward over the map as their navigator finally breaks his silence and hauls out a sheet of notes she should have already had in her hands five minutes ago. Marks all the spaces the man indicates, aided swiftly by Val's insistent corrections and the Major's nods of allowance. A failed mission is still a mission. Sometimes even more so, or so she's stood and argued with John Egan in this room at least once before.

"Co-pilot, what was your bearing after mission aborted?" she asks, still feeling Egan's eyes on her back as she fixes the lieutenant beside her with the best of her beadiest stares. "Was there a system status check at some point in the interval of abort and recalculated bearing?"

"Not a full check. Engineer was putting out a small fire."

"Literal or figurative?"

"Figurative."

"Stop saying fire if it is figurative," sighs Cressida, making a small note in the margin of her own paper. "God knows we've had enough real ones on board."

John Egan's snort is a skosh louder than she'd like it to be. She's not sure if that derision is the thing that quietens her table again, or if it's finally sunken in that there could have been a lot of things on fire that somehow miraculously weren't. She grabs her coffee mug. Takes a rather large gulp of too-black, too-bitter coffee that she solely drinks to stay awake. Sets it down on the curling end of the map.

"Let's try again, shall we?" she asks nobody in particular as she grabs a red pen. Get the story out first. The facts straight. Done. Dusted. Now get the things that never make it into the official report. "This time, there'll be more questions about what you saw up there. If you have a thought, say it. If you have a hunch about anything, now's the time. Don't worry about sounding stupid, you hear? I'll decide how stupid it is after I hear it."

"She'll do the thinking part," says Egan, tapping the side of his head just as she shoots him another glare.

"That excuses you from the room, Major, wouldn't you say?" She jerks her head toward the door. "Co-pilot, radio ops, eyes front, don't make me tell you twice," she says to the restless lieutenants at either side of her. "You were wheels up at..."

#blind dates oc fest 2024 #masters of the air #oc: cressida #oc: val #oc: one-eye #john egan #curtis biddick #gale cleven #basilonefic

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breezingby · 2 months

Video

youtube

American Pie ~ Don McLean

A long, long time ago I can still remember how that music used to make me smile And I knew if I had my chance That I could make those people dance And maybe they'd be happy for a while

But February made me shiver With every paper I'd deliver Bad news on the doorstep I couldn't take one more step

I can't remember if I cried When I read about his widowed bride But something touched me deep inside The day the music died

So bye, bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye Singin' this'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die

Did you write the book of love And do you have faith in God above If the Bible tells you so? Now do you believe in rock and roll? Can music save your mortal soul? And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him 'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym You both kicked off your shoes Man, I dig those rhythm and blues

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck With a pink carnation and a pickup truck But I knew I was out of luck The day the music died

I started singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye Singin' this'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die

Now for ten years we've been on our own And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone But that's not how it used to be When the jester sang for the king and queen In a coat he borrowed from James Dean And a voice that came from you and me

Oh, and while the king was looking down The jester stole his thorny crown The courtroom was adjourned No verdict was returned

And while Lennin read a book on Marx The quartet practiced in the park And we sang dirges in the dark The day the music died

We were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye Singin' this'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die

Helter Skelter in a summer swelter The birds flew off with a fallout shelter Eight miles high and falling fast It landed foul on the grass The players tried for a forward pass With the jester on the sidelines in a cast

Now the halftime air was sweet perfume While the sergeants played a marching tune We all got up to dance Oh, but we never got the chance

'Cause the players tried to take the field The marching band refused to yield Do you recall what was revealed The day the music died?

We started singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye And singin' this'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die

Oh, and there we were all in one place A generation lost in space With no time left to start again So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick Jack Flash sat on a candlestick 'Cause fire is the devil's only friend

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage My hands were clenched in fists of rage No angel born in Hell Could break that Satan's spell

And as the flames climbed high into the night To light the sacrificial rite I saw Satan laughing with delight The day the music died

He was singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye And singin' this'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die

I met a girl who sang the blues And I asked her for some happy news But she just smiled and turned away I went down to the sacred store Where I'd heard the music years before But the man there said the music wouldn't play

And in the streets, the children screamed The lovers cried and the poets dreamed But not a word was spoken The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost They caught the last train for the coast The day the music died

And they were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry And them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye Singin' this'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die

They were singing bye, bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry Them good ole boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye And singin' this'll be the day that I die

----------------------------------------

The repeated phrase "the day the music died" refers to a plane crash in 1959 that killed early rock and roll stars Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper, and Ritchie Valens, ending the era of early rock and roll; this became the popular nickname for that crash. The theme of the song goes beyond mourning McLean's childhood music heroes, reflecting the deep cultural changes and profound disillusion and loss of innocence of his generation – the early rock and roll generation – that took place between the 1959 plane crash and either late 1969 or late 1970. The meaning of the other lyrics, which cryptically allude to many of the jarring events and social changes experienced during that period, has been debated for decades. McLean repeatedly declined to explain the symbolism behind the many characters and events mentioned; he eventually released his songwriting notes to accompany the original manuscript when it was sold in 2015, explaining many of these, and further elaborated on the lyrical meaning in a 2022 interview/documentary celebrating the song's 50th anniversary, in which he stated the song was driven by impressionism and debunked some of the more widely speculated symbols.

#youtube #Music #Don McLee #American Pie #lyrics #Folk Rock #1971

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barbarianbookhoe · 9 months

Text

Chapter 5

Taglist: @vainillasmil157

After Nina made sure to check on Y/N's wound (and constantly tease her about Kaz), she went to bring Inej some water. The shapeshifter asked Nina about her, and made her promise to tell her when she was awake. Y/N thought of Inej as part of her family, and she didn't feel like going to a funeral in the near future.

Kaz checked on her as she asked, and she soon fell asleep not long after he left. When she woke, her limbs were sore from the uncomfortable position she sat in the chair. She noticed Kaz's coat draped over her and she smiled at the familiar scent.

Y/N slowly stood up from the chair and began putting on the change shirt Kaz smuggled into her bag. She also put on the leather vest, because feeling the fabric around her body made her feel secure, though she didn't put the knives back on. Y/N took a deep breath and opened the door, only to be met with Jesper's surprised gaze.

"You're awake?" He asked but then quickly corrected himself. "Well, of course you are since you're standing here. Saints, was I worried about you," He went to hug her but was stopped by when he heard Y/N wince from his touch. "Shit, did I hurt your wound?"

"Yeah, you kinda grabbed the wrong shoulder," Y/N answered and put a hand over her left shoulder.

"Sorry, I'll try to be careful next time," Jesper replied and then carefully put his arm around her, while leading her on board to the others. He began talking about what happened after Kaz brought her to the cabin, and she slept.

"I swear on all of Inej's Saints, that he was extremely brutal, like, I've never seen him act like this before," He said, "And I've seen lots of things in the Barrel," Jesper added.

"What did he do?" Y/N asked somewhat curiously, because the way Jesper talked, it sounded like he held some fear against Kaz. "For starters, he beated the shit out of Oomen, the man who wanted to drown you, then cut out his eye for Inej, and after learning he was sent by Pekka, he killed him and threw him into the water," He answered and his words made Y/N halt in her steps. "I'm sorry. Did I hear you say Pekka? As in Pekka Rollins, the one man Kaz hates more than anything?"

"Yes," she heard Kaz answer from next to her. She then realized Jesper not only lead her on board, but directly in front of the three boys and Nina. "He sent those men to the harbor to stop us from getting to Fjerda and the Ice Court. I have a suspicion that he took on the job as well, and intends to be the only one finishing it." Kaz told her and Y/N furrowed her brows.

"There's also a chance he might kill us once we step inside the Ice Court," Wylan added which made Kaz roll his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. If he's half as smart as he thinks, he won't kill us in the prison, because that would alert the guards. He's going to wait until we do the hard work, and then catch us," He said nonchalantly, like it wasn't their deaths he was talking about.

"Fine!" Jesper sighed. "But if Pekka Rollins kills us all, I'm going to get Wylan's ghost to teach my ghost how to play the flute, just so I can annoy the hell out of your ghost," He told Kaz and Y/N grinned at his words.

Kaz smugly looked back at him. "I'll just hire Matthias' ghost to kick your ghost's ass," Matthias grumbled. "My ghost won't associate with your ghost,"

Y/N straightened her back under Jesper's arm. "My ghost will be having a wager with Nina and Inej's ghost on which one of you is the biggest idiot,"

"That would be me," Jesper smiled at her and she sent a quick glance to Kaz as she spoke. "I wouldn't be so sure, but you're close," The boy laughed at her and let go of her shoulders to take a look at Wylan's drawing. It was complete now, and Y/N needed to admit that the boy had talent.

After some more talking about the plan, Kaz dismissed everyone and Y/N decided to go with Nina to check on Inej. She felt guilty for not doing it sooner, but the heartrender reassured her that it was better for her to rest, if only for a few hours.

They went inside the room and when Y/N saw how lifeless Inej's body looked on the table, her stomach turned. She sat down on the chair next to her and glanced at the bandage around her torso.

"How bad is it?" She asked as she turned around, and the look on Nina's face turned into worry in an instant. "It's a pretty deep wound. Lucky for her the blade wasn't poisoned, so her chances are better,"

"So there's a chance she won't wake up," Y/N whispered and took a glance at Inej's peaceful face. "But she's going to, isn't she?" She looked up to see Nina standing next to her with a sad face. "I really hope so," She said and gently grabbed Inej's face to pour some water into her mouth, to keep her hydrated.

"You mind if I stay here with you? I don't want to sit alone in that cabin," Y/N said to Nina and she tried to hide a smile. "Really? I thought after your encounter with Kaz, you'd like that cabin," Y/N let out a gasp at her words.

"Nina Zenik, what are you implying?" She asked dramatically to which the girl playfully put her hands on her hip. "I'm just curious why the two of you lolked so flushed," She replied and her voice changed to a teasing tone. Y/N tried to hide the embarassment from her face as she answered.

"I had a bullet wound, we were both freezing from the water. That's it," Nina looked at Y/N with raised eyebrows. "And I'm the Queen of Ravka. You do know that I'm a Heartrender? I can hear everything," She smiled knowingly at Y/N, but she refused to look back at her. Then Nina sighed and put a hand on her shoulder and spoke softly.

"Look, whatever is happening between the two of you, it's clear that you don't want anyone to know. I can't promise that I won't interrupt you again, because I'm a naturally curious person, but I swear, that I won't tell anyone about it,"

Y/N finnaly looked at her and smiled in relief. "Thanks a lot, Nina"

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

For the next three days, they took shifts in looking after Inej and her wound. They would try and feed her, keep her hydrated and talk to her, tell stories and old ravkan tales, as if she could hear them.

The two girls got to know each other better, now that they had the time for it. Y/N loved how confident and humorous Nina was, and sometimes the way she talked it reminded her of her mother. It made her chest feel warm. She also told some things about her childhood when she still lived in Os Kervo, and noticed the surprised glances she got from Nina after a few of her stories.

"Sometimes I'm really surprised by you," Nina told her on their third night, when they were both in the room with Inej. "Yeah? Why?" Y/N asked with a slight smile. "You're a gunsmith and a shapeshifter thought to be extinct, yet, the stories you tell, they're so...stupid, and childish and happy, I mean-"

"How did I end up in the Barrel, is what you're asking?" Y/N questioned and Nina nodded her head. The shapeshifter sighed and leaned back in her chair, as she thought about her answer. She trusted Nina, but not yet enough to tell her all the details. "Let's just say that I was using my powers when I shouldn't have, and a powerful person's men saw it, and we had to escape,"

"We?" Nina asked and Y/N lightly chuckled at her question. "Yeah, me and my brother, Raffiel. Ghezen, was he a pain in the ass. But I'd do anything for him and his family," She told her honestly and Nina smiled widely at her words.

"Ooh, does he have a wife? Or a husband maybe? Kids?" She asked quickly and Y/N laughed at her. "I see. Now that you can't pry into my private life, you want to pry into my brothers?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a cruel Grisha woman, clearly seducing you for imformation about your brother. I'm so evil," Nina sighed dramatically and then looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer.

"Well, he has a wife and a son. The kid's so full of energy I swear if they let him outisde he'd run to Fjerda and back in one day. But he's the sweetest kid you could ever meet. And those green eyes? It's like staring into a pair of emeralds," She shook her head with a smile. She hoped it wasn't the last time she saw her nephew.

Every day they got closer to Fjerda, a knot appeared in her stomach, and each day it got tighter and tighter. She knew Kaz had a solid plan and she believed in him with every inch of herself, yet, there was also a small voice in the back of her head telling her that it won't work out, that they'll get caught and stay in prison till their death. She ignored the voice, but soon enough it was going to cause trouble for her.

And when Inej woke up, Y/N never saw someone cry as much as Nina did in the next few minutes. After they got her drinking and eating a few bites, they told her everything that happened at the harbor, including the few details of Kaz's plan. Y/N left out the fact that she almost drowned, and Nina left out what she assumed between the two. When they began talking about the Crow and the Cup tattoo, Inej lightly turned her head towards Y/N, who was standing beside Nina, next to the table.

"When did you get it? I know that it was already on you when we first met," Inej asked quietly, still somewhat week from her wound. Y/N's brows raised in surprise as she looked at the girl.

"And you're asking me this now ?" She asked and Inej let out a small smile. "I almost died, and there's lots of things I needed to ask, so...least you can do is give me an answer," The girl paused before whispering, "Before I bleed out again," Nina alet out a half chuckle hald yelp, but Y/N just stared at Inej.

"I hate you right now," She said, but seeing that the Suli-girl won't back down, she sighed.

She gave her a short answer, that she was certain she was going to regret later, not to mention the lecture she was going to get from Kaz when he hears about it.

"I got it along with Kaz, when we were fifteen,"

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #six of crows #kaz brekker #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nina zenik #inej ghafa #ice court heist

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shyphonics · 2 months

Text

Salad Days Chapter 4: When Archeologists Dig This Up, They'll Either Laugh or Cry

(babypunk!Rodrick Heffley x reader)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

also, please take my favorite live performance of rise above by Black Flag as a companion piece

Hey!

I do not like you college brat

I do not like you and your frat

I do not like you at the shore

I do not like you drunk on coors

I do not like your average life

I hope you do not take a wife

I hope you don’t decide to breed

Cause that’s one thing I do not need

Well, they did it. They’ve got a van full of booze, and a sense of self satisfaction.

It had taken a while to fit everything in, and the guy at the pickup spot hadn’t been very nice, but they did it.

Mike seems more calm when they show up to The Strike, happy to see them, even.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, you giraffe of a man!” He pulls Rodrick into a hug, heartily patting him on the back. Rodrick does kind of feel like a giraffe, Mike only comes up to the middle of his chest.

“Hey, if there’s anything else you need, just let us know!” Rodrick gives him a smile.

He grabs a box of bottles and heads through the back door of the bar. The guys work like ants; grab a case, march to the walk in, march back. They’re done in no time. He wonders if the delivery center is hiring, because that was easy.

Mike shoves a bundle of money into his hands, and gives him another pat on the back.

“She was right about you.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got the spirit,” he smiles, “like a young Henry Rollins, slingin’ ice cream. See you tomorrow. Show up at 5 PM, load in here. Got it?”

“Got it,” Rodrick nods.

The spirit. He has no idea what that means, but he’s grateful for the sentiment. Especially if you’d said something nice about him… he finally has ammo to tease you back.

Mike disappears into the back of the bar, and the guys regroup to count their unexpected pay.

“Dude, he gave us a hundred dollars!” Chris says, shocked.

They recount again and again, coming to one hundred every time. They can’t believe it, and they speed away from the bar with the radio turned all the way up.

The rest of their day is spent planning. They craft the perfect setlist, they find their tightest jeans, they even find time to learn a surprise cover song. It's one he'd heard on your radio shift, and it's been stuck in his head all day.

Everything has to be perfect.

Rodrick is sure everything is gonna be perfect.

It’s only 5:30 by the time they’re done setting up, and they find themselves just standing in front of the stage, awestruck.

It’s not huge by any means, but it’s high off the ground and covered in lights. There’s a full PA system, and even a pole to hang their homemade bedsheet flag from.

The bar is empty, except for a guy in the sound booth, Jimbo by the door, and two bartenders prepping. Rodrick doesn’t see you, and immediately gets a pang of sadness.

“Hey,” he starts, leaning on the bar.

“We can’t serve yet, sorry.” A girl with tight blonde curls shuts him down.

“Oh, no, I was gonna ask… where’s the other girl that works here?”

She thinks for a moment, then makes a face of realization.

“Oh, she’s not working tonight. She’s headlining.”

Rodrick’s eyes go wide. Headlining? You? His mind is blown.

The bartender goes back to prepping without giving him a second thought. Rodrick walks back to the stage, zombie-like, deep in thought.

Now they really have to be perfect.

A few people have come in through the back, and they’re setting up portable tables along a wall.

“You guys need one?” A girl with tall, spiked hair asks.

They look at each other. Merch. Duh. They're pretty sure they have an unorganized cardboard box of t-shirts and buttons in the van. Ward had spent all his high school graduation cash on some real ones from a print shop.

Ben and Chris wedge the table out from between two vending machines, and Rodrick digs the box out of the van. It’s not a very impressive setup, but they’re pretty happy with themselves.

The doors open at 7, and it doesn’t take long for the place to fill up. Mike comes by and gives each of the guys three little paper tickets, like you’d get at an arcade.

“Beer tickets,” he says, before they can ask, “one of these gets you anything canned or bottled. Be nice to the bartenders, please.”

Ward and Ben high five and head straight to the bar, Chris heads to the bathroom, and Rodrick does a full scan of the area by the stage. Where are you? He needs to make fun of you for being nice to him, dammit.

Ward and Ben get back, looking a little shaken up.

“Rodrick, hey, do you want us to get you a beer?” Ben chuckles nervously.

“Nah, I can get it myself,” Rodrick starts to walk towards the front.

“No, no,” Ward puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You should really let us get you one!” Ben makes urgent eye contact.

“Why...?” Rodrick is starting to get freaked out.

“‘Cause we’re buddies!” Ward pats him on the shoulder.

Something is definitely up.

Rodrick pushes past Ward, walking through the tall arch that leads to the bar area. It’s absolutely packed. His heart skips a beat when he sees a flash of golden blonde hair.

Oddly familiar golden blonde hair.

The girl turns around.

No. It can’t be. There’s no way in hell that it’s-

“Heather Hills,” Rodrick whispers, grateful for the loud house music.

She’s sitting at the bar with a large group of people. Some douchebag with a double popped collar has his arm around her. They’re all laughing- the kind of laugh you do at someone. Snotty.

Any attraction he’d had to her has been completely gone for years. He feels a mix of hatred and nausea. They’re at the far end of the bar, by the door, so Rodrick blends in at the other end.

Please don’t look at me.

He gets a beer from the bartender from earlier, making sure to tip as your snarky reminder rings in his head. Also making sure to avoid Natty Light. He turns fast to get back to the stage, and right before he’s through the arch-

“Rodrick? Rodrick Heffley?”

He wheels around. She’s right fucking behind him.

“Oh, hey, what was your name again?” He rolls his eyes.

“Real mature, asshole.” She scoffs, “What are you doing here?”

“Playing a show. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Aww, you don’t wanna play nice with me?” She drags a finger down his chest. It enrages him.

“No. And you know why?” His voice goes low. He leans down so his face is close to hers, and he’s about to let everything out. Her face is smug, and she raises her eyebrows.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his back.

“Hey, you’re on in ten. Soundcheck time.” You peer around to see Rodrick's face. He looks pissed. You’re not sure what’s going on, but it’s none of your business. You’re just the messenger.

Rodrick’s eyes bug when he sees you, and his face relaxes a little.

“Um, excuse me, we were talking.” The blonde girl sneers at you.

“You can talk later. We gotta get this shit rollin’.” You don’t wait to see her reaction. You just turn around and head back to the stage.

If you’re honest, it's a little disappointing seeing Rodrick with, you assume, his very pretty girlfriend. It makes sense though. He's a nice looking guy. Your official assessment is toxic on-again, off-again high school sweethearts. Oh, well.

Just keep walking. Stay on schedule. Five bands, twenty minute sets, ten minutes for stage change. You repeat it in your head like a mantra.

Heather’s mouth is hanging open. Rodrick winces.

“Gotta go,”

He practically runs to the stage.

They’ve never done a real soundcheck before, and it’s kind of an intimidating process. The sound engineer is very no nonsense. Rodrick checks his drums one by one. Then bass, guitars, mics. Each adjustment is barely noticeable to them, and they end up just giving a thumbs up every time the engineer asks a question. Finally, they run through the whole chorus of a song to hear everything together. By that point, the dance floor is almost entirely full.

Rodrick takes a deep breath, scanning for Heather. He hopes she just left.

They've come a long way since their high school days, no longer unpracticed wannabes. Their sound has become pretty good, if they say so themselves. Tonight's only adjustment is to play faster.

The sound guy points at them, and Ben clears his throat.

“We… are Löded Diper!”

The chatting in the crowd subsides, and falls silent.

Rodrick hears snickering, and a voice saying oh my god, that IS him!

He panics, and right when the tension is almost too much to bear, a loud WOOOOOOOO comes from the very front. He looks and sees you, trying to rile up the crowd. It seems to be working. Other people are giving half-hearted cheers, which is something at least.

“That's more like it!” Ben yells, and they launch into their first song.

They only have a five song set, so everything has to count. Ben’s wails are powerful, he's really embodying a frontman. Chris is whipping his hair around, and Ward is the true picture of a bassist. Strong, still, and holding it all together.

Rodrick is hyper-focused on keeping the rhythm. And maybe showing off, just a little bit. He puts his whole body into hitting the drums, his mouth pulled into a tight “o”.

You have a perfect view from the front row, and what a view it is.

He's killing it. So focused and steady, but it looks like he's having fun. He leans into the mic to sing backup, and you get a flash of his sharp canines. You can see the muscles in his arms clenching, and the front of his hair is wet with sweat.

You feel your face getting hot, and you're reluctant to admit it's not just from the packed room. You’re suddenly faced with the very real possibility that you're very attracted to him.

He gives you a huge grin and a wink between songs, and it's no longer just a possibility. Fuck.

Blasts of air from his bass drum cool your face down, and you stare at him a little closer, analyzing.

You've been infantilising him a little bit, you'll admit it.

Kid. Cute. Baby boy.

Although you’re pretty sure the two of you are the same age, he just comes off like a teenager. You couldn’t help but haze him a little bit, especially after he just wandered into the bar with no plan. He’s really proving himself right now.

The crowd is going crazy. You’re holding yourself up on the edge of the stage, but behind you, a sizable pit has opened up. People are loving them.

“We have one more!” Ben shouts. People are screaming.

“We learned it just for you!” Rodrick yells. There’s something snarky about his tone. You like it.

You recognize the song immediately. Their rendition is just a little clunky, but it works. You can't help but smile, and wonder if Rodrick somehow heard your radio shift last night.

It's such a good choice for a first show. Perfect, really. It's like they're saying, we're here, fuckers.

You let the crowd swallow you up as you sing along.

Society's arms of control

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

They think they're smart, can't think for themselves

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

Laugh at us behind our backs

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

I find satisfaction in what they lack

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

We! Are Tired!

Of your! Abuse!

Try to stop us!

But it’s! No use!

The aftermath of their set is chaos. Good chaos, but chaos. They tear down their gear and load up the van. On their way back in, people are yelling and patting their shoulders as they walk by.

Hell yeah, dude!

Good set, bro!

It feels good.

A small crowd has formed at their merch table. Chris takes on the task of handling the sales, and before they know it, their box is nearly half gone. They hadn't expected that.

Another unexpected side effect of playing a good set: booze.

Once the merch crowd is gone, old rocker types materialize, holding out shot glasses and cans. One guy hands Rodrick a shot of something that burns, and puts a heavy arm around his shoulder. He starts up a conversation about drumming, which is really more like a monologue.

You were great out there, man. Who's your favorite? Like, who's your guy? It's Lars for me, bro, 100%. I saw Metallica in ‘88, bro. Busted a knee in the pit, and now I can’t play a double pedal no more. Where'd you learn to play like that? You could play like Hellhammer with those arms. Fuckin’ rock on, brother. Oh, hey, sorry, I was supposed to give you this lime to help with the tequila...

Rodrick’s head swims as the guy babbles, nodding his head like he's listening.

“Thank you,” he finally sighs out. He’s exhausted from just listening to the guy. He pops the lime in his mouth, and it does help quite a bit.

People just keep coming with shots, and beers, and stories, and the guys end up piss drunk before the second band is done setting up.

Rodrick smiles and looks around. He's having fun. They did what they came to do, and people actually liked it. The rest of the guys are making conversation with the other bands. Heather and whoever else had been laughing at him are nowhere to be seen, and he's happy.

Even happier when you appear in front of the table.

“Heyyy!” He yells, giving you a singular finger gun, his other hand occupied with a beer can.

You take one look at his half lidded eyes and lazy smile, and realize he's wasted.

“Are you drunk?” You cackle, “It's not even 8:30!”

He turns, and spits a sucked-dry lime slice into the trash can next to him.

“Shut up! You're drunk!” Rodrick points at you, smile still wide.

“Oh, man. You're gone. Your girlfriend is gonna be pissed!” You laugh.

The drunk-happy look fades from his face.

“My huh?”

“That girl you were talking to you. Girlfriend, right?”

“No fucking way!” he bursts out laughing, “She’s a rich, stuck-up asshole! She's an evil witch from hell!” He downs the rest of his beer.

“Harsh, but I believe you.”

Well, that settles that.

You wonder if Rodrick has ever been this drunk in his life. He doesn't seem like he knows how to handle it, but he seems to be having a good time, at least.

“Hey. You did really, really good. You killed it. I mean it.” You lean on the merch table and smile up at him.

Rodrick’s eyes are sparkling, and his smile is somehow bigger than before.

“You liked us?”

“I loved you guys. Everyone did. They're totally gonna have you back.”

He looks like he might cry.

"Hey, don't I get a shirt? Wasn't that part of our deal?"

Rodrick thinks hard, finally remembering.

"Oh yeah!" He shouts.

He ducks down under the table and rifles through a big box. You lean over and tell him your size. He looks deeply focused.

He finally resurfaces, and holds up the shirt, triumphantly. You take it and sling it over your arm.

"Thanks," you smile, "I'll wear it all the time."

He beams.

You hold out your hand, and he hesitates for a second before grabbing it.

“You wanna come stand with me? The next band is up.”

Rodrick’s heart soars.

You lead him to the middle of the crowd, where three other people are gathered, talking.

“This is my band: Maureen, Jessica, and Eddie.”

Rodrick is seeing double at this point, but he smiles and waves. He thinks he sees a girl with ridiculously long black hair, a girl with very short green hair, and a guy with little round glasses.

“Good set,” the guy gives him a fist bump.

Before they can talk any more, a microphone squeals. Everyone in the crowd is at attention. Rodrick blinks to try and focus in on the stage; the next band has set up a giant, inflatable palm tree and some yard flamingos. They're all dressed for the pool, it seems like. Big, bright board shorts and floaties. The singer is barefoot, and has a megaphone in hand.

“May I have your attention please, may I have your attention please,” his distorted voice comes through the megaphone, “The president of the United States is an insect! All your lives are a lie!”

The next few minutes are a blur of sound and color. Rodrick can’t process anything that’s happening in front of him. The music is weird, but good. Messy. The words don’t make any sense. His body is starting to sway uncontrollably, and he’s worried he might topple over.

His shoulder bumps yours, and you look up. He doesn’t look so good. You grab his hand again and lead him out of the crowd, all the way to the front patio, stopping to grab a water on the way.

Cool air hits Rodrick’s face, and he feels at ease. You help him into a low metal chair, and he stares up at you, helplessly.

“Are you good?” You push his hair up, away from his forehead, and hand him the cup of water.

“That was a lot,” he breathes, dazed.

“Chug that water, you’ll feel better,” you lean on the railing next to his chair, “and no more booze, big boy.”

“I thought I was baby boy,” Rodrick slurs, smirking.

“I think you’ve transcended that term,” you laugh, “unless you want to be baby boy.”

“What if I do?”

“You’re so weird,” you give his chair a little kick.

He sticks out his arm to catch your leg, and chugs the whole water in one go.

He lifts your leg a little higher, slinging it over his shoulder. You’re speechless. That’s pretty smooth.

"You said something nice about me," he slurs in a sing-song voice, "Mike told me."

"Oh yeah? What did I say?"

Rodrick thinks hard. What was it again?

"Something about... spirits? And ice cream."

"Okay, buddy." You shush him, "Just take some deep breaths."

It’s kinda nice, just sitting with him in silence. The last bit of daylight is leaving, and everything is shrouded in a faint blue.

“I think I like you,” he says quietly, not looking at you.

“I think you’re drunk. Get back to me in an hour.”

“Can I like you in an hour?” He holds your leg a little tighter.

“Go nuts,” you chuckle.

You don’t move your leg, though.

You sit together until the set ends, and people start to file out onto the patio.

“You wanna go back in? Your friends are probably worried.” You bounce your leg a little to get his attention.

“Yeah. I have to pee so bad.”

Another trans-am’s wrapped itself around a telephone pole

“I ain't drunk, officer, I just fell getting out of my car.”

Don't worry about it, son. We were that way when we were young!

You've got all the skills to make a damn good business man!

Rodrick stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, breathing deep. He feels a lot better after some fresh air and the longest piss of his life.

A stall door opens, and a familiar face shows up next to his.

“Heffley? Shit, that really is you.”

Bryan Kent is a bonafide asshole with a football scholarship, who'd made Rodrick’s life a living hell back home. He really doesn't feel like reconnecting right now.

“Yep. It's me.”

Rodrick turns to leave, but Bryan blocks the door.

“You're not even gonna say hi, diner dork?”

“Fuck off, Bryan. I'm not in the mood.”

Bryan pushes him, and Rodrick feels all that old rage bubbling up. He's still a little wobbly on his feet.

“Did the cops ever catch you for what you did?” Bryan takes a step towards Rodrick. He feels all the blood leave his face.

“Actually, one of my buddies from back home just passed police academy. You wanna come back to our table and put in a little confession?”

“Fuck off,” he pushes Bryan back hard, sending him right into the door.

You're waiting outside the bathroom, and starting to get just a little worried. One of Rodrick’s bandmates- Ward, you're pretty sure- is still by their merch table.

“Hey,” you smile at him, “Rodrick went into the bathroom kind of a long time ago. He was pretty wrecked, and I'm starting to get worried. Could you…?”

Ward is around the table before you can even finish your sentence.

“Don't worry, I got him.”

As Ward opens the bathroom door, another guy walks out, laughing.

“What the fuck?” Ward yells.

You come up behind him and see Rodrick, lying on the floor, face bloody. Your mouth twists into a sneer. Fucking frat boys.

You march to the front of the bar, and lean in towards Jimbo’s ear.

“Him. Out.” You point at the offender, who's still flexing his busted knuckles like a jackass. Like it's something to show off.

“Had a feeling.” Jimbo sighs, standing up.

Rodrick’s head is pounding.

He opens his eyes to see Ward, looking devastated.

“Dude, what happened? Can you get up?”

“Fucking… Bryan Kent,” he coughs out.

Ward helps him to his feet and hands him a bundle of paper towels. Rodrick dabs at his bloody nose and lip in the mirror.

Of course. Of fucking course one of those assholes would show up tonight, of all nights.

He takes a few moments to just stand there and recover.

“That was fucked up.” Ward breaks the silence.

Rodrick just nods.

They emerge from the bathroom and there's what looks to be a full on brawl at the front of the bar. Rodrick sees you walking quickly towards him, eyes wide.

“Are you okay? Jeez, look at your lip.”

You bring your hand to his face and take a closer look. It doesn't look like he needs stitches or anything, but his bottom lip is swollen, with a dark line in the middle. Blood is quickly drying up in one of his nostrils.

Rodrick jumps a little, and suddenly feels a whole lot better under your gentle touch. He gets lost for a second, just looking down at your worried face.

“I shouldn't have let you in there alone, I'm so sorry.” You murmur.

He smiles, but a yell from up front brings him back to reality.

“It’s cool, I'm fine. What's going on up there?”

“Well, we asked your... acquaintance to leave, and he didn't want to. And he's got friends.”

“Should we go up and help?” Ward clenches his fist, smiling slightly.

Rodrick’s other bandmates have joined the circle.

“I'd stay out of it, they've got it.”

You all observe as Jimbo drags Bryan out the front door by his ear. A second drunken dickhead is yelling I'm a police officer! Get off me! as a second, equally huge guy hauls him off.

Rodrick notices Heather following them out, rolling her eyes.

“Are we all good?” Someone from the stage asks into a microphone.

Oh yeah, there's still a show going on.

You all shrug, and head into the crowd together.

You take Rodrick's hand again, and give it a little squeeze. He turns to look at you, and smiles.

"Are you really okay?" You yell over the music.

"I'm really okay." He squeezes your hand back.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

#sorry if this is too long lmao #im having fun #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley fanfic #doawk rodrick #salad days #my stuff

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mcntsee · 10 months

Text

Decade

Summary: Kaz Brekker x sister! reader. Facing the aftermath of crows’ departures, a dangerous job was proposed, tensions rose, and Kaz’s façade wavered and a sacrifice was made. Based on this request.

Warnings: Sacrifice, violence, grief, “death”, Kaz is ooc at one point

Y/n and Kaz stood at a crossroads, both literally and metaphorically. The sprawling city, a web of treachery and ambition, seemed to mirror the shattered remains of their once-undefeatable crew. The passage of time had etched lines of experience on their faces and shadows of pain in their hearts, leaving Y/n to bear witness to the transformation of her brother, Kaz, into a colder, more enigmatic version of himself.

As each crow had departed, Kaz had grown increasingly desperate and reckless. Inej had set sail to find freedom on the open sea, Wylan and Jesper had left the criminal life behind for a “normal” existence, and Nina had been taken from them after the heart-wrenching loss of Matthias. With each departure, Kaz’s grasp on control seemed to slip, his grip on the world loosening as if trying to reclaim the pieces that had been stolen from him.

The glint of determination in Kaz’s eyes had given way to a consuming darkness. A storm of unresolved emotions that raged beneath his meticulously constructed façade. Each separation had chipped away at the carefully crafted armor he had worn for so long, leaving raw wounds that festered in the shadows. His desperation, once buried deep, now oozed to the surface in the form of reckless schemes and increasingly dangerous jobs.

Y/n had borne witness to this transformation, watching as her brother’s demeanor grew colder and his tactics more extreme. The warmth that had once lingered in his gaze when he looked at his fellow crows had faded, replaced by a calculating edge that had been honed in the crucible of their struggles. Kaz had become a riddle even to those who had known him best, his actions driven by a relentless pursuit of control and vengeance.

The dimly lit room seemed to hold its breath as Kaz’s voice wove intricate tales of danger and deception. The details of the new job hung heavily in the air, but Y/n’s growing unease was impossible to ignore. “This sounds like a suicide mission.” she had finally blurted out, her voice a mixture of frustration and genuine concern.

Tension crackled in the air, an electric current charging the atmosphere. Kaz’s gaze bore into Y/n’s, his defiant expression a reflection of the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. Their words clashed, leaving wounds that cut deeper than any blade.

In the midst of the storm of words, Y/n’s voice softened, a tremor of vulnerability threading through her words. “I miss the old you, Kaz.” she confessed, a sense of longing in her voice. For a fleeting moment, the impervious façade that Kaz had constructed wavered, revealing a glimpse of the brother she had once known. “That version of me is dead, Y/n.” he replied, a touch of sorrow tainting his words.

The charged exchange reached an impasse, marked by an intriguing directive. “Meet me outside the club in three hours.” Kaz commanded, his words heavy with an unspoken weight.

Their rendezvous led them to ascend a towering building, the sprawling panorama of the city unfolding below them. With each step, the weight of their shared history pressed upon them, the bond that had once united them now stretched thin. The rooftop awaited, a stage where the threads of fate were manipulated by Pekka Rollins, orchestrating a cruel and twisted dance.

The confrontation erupted in a sudden burst of violence. Guards emerged from the shadows, their movements swift and practiced, ensnaring Y/n and Kaz in an iron grip. Pekka’s grin held a malevolent gleam, a puppet master relishing his control over their destinies.

Pekka positioned Kaz in front of him, the barrel of a gun trained unwaveringly on Kaz’s form. Y/n was restrained across from them, held captive by a guard’s steely grip. A chill crept down Kaz’s spine as Pekka’s grin twisted into a sinister snarl. “I’ve had enough of you, you barrel scum.” Pekka spat, his words dripping with venom. The unmistakable click of the gun’s safety being disengaged sent a shiver through the room, the sound amplifying the threat that hung in the air.

Y/n’s heart raced as the tension reached a fever pitch. In a moment of heart-stopping determination, she lunged forward, her elbow connecting with the guard’s nose with all her strength. The guard staggered back, blood streaming from his nose, and for an instant, the grip on Y/n loosened.

With an adrenaline-fueled burst of energy, Y/n sprinted towards Pekka, her eyes fixed on the gun pointed at Kaz. The guard reacted quickly, his gun drawn and fired. The first shot found its mark, striking Y/n in the shoulder. Pain exploded through her, but she pushed on, her resolve unbroken.

The second shot seared through her calf, a fresh wave of agony crashing over her. Yet, fueled by sheer determination, she continued her charge. With a surge of strength, Y/n launched herself at Pekka, a whirlwind of determination and fury that shattered the room’s fragile balance.

Their bodies collided, a tangle of limbs and desperation, as Y/n tackled Pekka over the building’s ledge. In that split second, the world seemed to freeze as Pekka’s eyes widened with shock. The wind howled around them as they plummeted, the abyss below consuming them.

Kaz’s senses sharpened as a heart-stopping clarity settled over him. “No!” he roared, his voice a raw and desperate plea. His heart thundered in his chest, his eyes locked on the figures plummeting into the abyss. His sister—his world—disappearing into the endless darkness.

As Y/n fell, a whirlwind of memories swirled through her mind. Moments of shared laughter, secret confidences, and the unbreakable bond she shared with Kaz danced before her eyes. With a final, steadying breath, she closed her eyes, embracing the unknown that awaited her.

Kaz’s gaze remained riveted on the void, his knuckles white as his fists clenched. He strained to catch a glimpse of Y/n’s form, his silent prayer echoing in the night. But as seconds stretched into an agonizing eternity, a cruel reality settled over him. She was gone. “No…”

Ten years had passed since that fateful night, a decade of shadows and whispers that wrapped around Kaz like a suffocating cloak. In the aftermath, he had become a phantom, rarely seen beyond the confines of the Crow Club's walls. He had exacted vengeance upon each of the men who had played a role in Pekka's ambush, leaving a trail of death in his wake. But the weight of his sister's sacrifice lingered, an indelible scar etched into his soul.

He had returned to the Crow Club that night, his movements robotic and his demeanor cold. Locking himself in his office, he had shut himself away from the world for months, consumed by a maelstrom of guilt and grief. Jobs became an afterthought, the thrill of the heist no longer able to fill the void that had been left behind.

However, a decade later, Kaz had finally mustered the courage to venture into Lij to meet with a contractor. The air hung heavy with memories, each step a reminder of the past he had tried to bury. As he navigated the streets, however, he found himself haunted by visions of his sister—fragments of her, an older version, lingering at the periphery of his vision. He dismissed them as figments of his tormented imagination, a cruel trick his mind played on him.

After signing several contracts, Kaz found himself wandering the market, surrounded by the hum of life that continued to thrive even in the face of his own despair. It was there, amidst the bustle and noise, that he heard a voice call his name—his real name, not the alias he had adopted to shield himself from the world. He spun around, muscles tensed, ready to face a threat. But instead, he was met with a sight that sent his heart into overdrive—Y/n, standing before him, her smile a bittersweet echo of the past.

Kaz's breath caught in his throat, his mind a whirlwind of disbelief and confusion. He muttered something under his breath, his voice wavering. "This is not real. You've lost it, Brekker." His instinct was to retreat, to put distance between himself and the haunting apparition that stood before him.

Yet, Y/n stepped forward, her gaze unwavering, and spoke words that cut through the walls he had built around himself. "You'd think after ten years my brother would be happy to see me again." Her words held a lightness he had long forgotten, a playfulness that once defined their relationship.

In that moment, something shifted within Kaz. For the first time in his life, he found himself battling the ghosts of his past, his fears, and his overwhelming need for control. His brain urged him to flee, to escape the impossible reality that seemed to mock him. But there was something different this time—an ache in his chest, a yearning for the connection he had lost.

Y/n's smile was a lifeline, an anchor in the storm that raged within him. In a swift motion, he disregarded the barriers that had once kept him safe. With a vulnerability he had long suppressed, Kaz closed the distance between them and enveloped Y/n in a hug—an embrace that was both desperate and tender.

Y/n laughed, the sound a melody that echoed through the market. She hugged him back, the weight of a decade's worth of absence and longing evaporating in that simple gesture. While their bodies were locked in the embrace, Kaz's voice trembled as he finally uttered the words that had haunted him for years. "I thought you were dead."

Y/n's response was soft, her hands gently cupping his face as she drew back slightly. Her left arm trembled, a detail that didn't escape Kaz's notice. Her words were an invitation, a lifeline thrown to a brother who had long been lost in the darkness. "Let's have some tea and catch up?" she suggested, her voice carrying a warmth that melted away the years of isolation and pain.

Kaz nodded, a simple gesture that belied the torrent of emotions surging within him. For the first time in a decade, he allowed himself to lower his guard, to let go of the fears and ghosts that had held him captive. As they walked side by side, the bustling market around them fading into the background, Kaz dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he could find a sliver of light amidst the shadows.

Y/n began to walk, and Kaz followed in her wake, a hesitant anticipation in his steps. Before long, they reached their destination—a modest house that held the secrets of his sister's life over the past ten years. Y/n attempted to unlock the door, her left arm trembling once again. He stepped forward, a silent offer hanging in the air. "May I?" he asked, his voice gentle. Y/n's smile was her response as she handed him the keys, her gratitude evident in her gaze.

As they entered the house, Kaz's eyes roved over the surroundings, each corner a tableau of memories he had missed. He moved from picture to picture, his gaze lingering on each frame as he studied the portraits adorning the walls. His sister and a man stood in one photograph, their smiles frozen in time. He continued his exploration, his eyes tracing the presence of the same man in several portraits. There was a story woven within the frames, one that begged to be unveiled.

His steps carried him to a picture of two children, their innocent faces frozen in a moment of laughter. He opened his mouth to inquire about their identities, but before the words could escape, a cacophony of joyous voices shattered the silence. Two children burst into the room, their boundless energy a stark contrast to the years of solitude Kaz had endured.

"Ma!" they exclaimed in unison, their arms reaching out to embrace Y/n. She welcomed them with open arms, the love in her eyes a testament to the years they had shared. As the children released their hold, the older brother pointed at Kaz and asked a question that tugged at the corners of Kaz's lips. "Who is that, ma?"

Y/n's laughter filled the room, a melody that danced upon the air. "That would be your uncle Kaz," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of mirth. Kaz's gaze shifted from Y/n to the children, his heart a mix of awe and surprise. The younger of the two gasped, his small hand covering his mouth as realization dawned. "You have the same name as me!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.

“Kaz, this is Jordie,” said y/n while pointing at the oldest who in response gave a shy wave, “and this is Kaz.” she said while pointing at the youngest. Kaz found himself speechless for a moment, his mind swirling with emotions that defied description. The sight of his nephews, the legacy of the family he had believed to be lost forever, left him humbled and amazed. With a steadying breath, he knelt down, his movements deliberate as he met the gaze of the two children.

"Can I get a hug?" he asked, his voice soft but sincere. The response was immediate and joyful, a chorus of laughter and footsteps that rushed towards him. Small arms enveloped him, their embrace soft but firm none the less.

As the echoes of their joyful laughter began to fade, Y/n gently turned to her children, her voice filled with warmth. "Why don't you two go upstairs and play for a while?" she suggested. Without hesitation, the young boys bounded away, their laughter and excitement filling the air. With a shared glance, Y/n and Kaz watched them go, a silent acknowledgment of the profound moment they had just shared.

"Tea?" Y/n's voice broke the stillness, the simple question carrying a sense of normalcy amidst the extraordinary circumstances. Kaz nodded, his gaze lingering on her as he made his way to the table. Y/n quickly prepared the tea, her movements deft but accompanied by the persistent tremor in her left arm. She placed the cups on the table and settled down beside Kaz, the fragility of her condition at odds with her unwavering strength.

Kaz's eyes shifted from the tea to Y/n's arm, his curiosity piqued. "Why is your arm shaking so much?" he inquired, his voice carrying a note of concern. Y/n looked down at her trembling arm, her fingers gently tracing the path of the trembling. Her words were soft, carrying a weight that only a decade of silence could give. "It hit one of the rocks in the water when I fell ten years ago." Her fingers moved in a soothing rhythm, a gesture of self-comfort as she spoke the words that had haunted her.

"Nerve damage," she continued, her voice tinged with resignation. "Hasn't stopped shaking since." Kaz's gaze shifted from her arm to meet her eyes, the concern etched on his features palpable. He regarded her with a mixture of understanding and compassion, a silent acknowledgement of the pain that had woven its way into her life.

His next question was gentle, a gesture that sought to bridge the gap between the years they had spent apart. "Does it still hurt?" he inquired, his voice low and tinged with a vulnerability that he had rarely shown. Y/n's response was honest, her eyes holding his as she offered a glimpse into her reality. "Some days more than others," she admitted, her words a testament to the resilience she had cultivated over the years.

As they sipped their tea, the room seemed to embrace the fragile peace that had settled between them. Y/n's eyes held a genuine curiosity as she turned the conversation toward him. "What have you been up to in these past years?" she asked, her voice gentle. Kaz's response was measured, his words guarded yet filled with a quiet certainty. "Just casual business."

The exchange led to a shift in the conversation, and he inquired about her life with equal curiosity. Y/n's smile held a hint of nostalgia as she began to speak of the man she had met—Ezra. His name resonated in the air, a key to unlocking the chapters of her life that had been hidden from him. "We got married," she explained, her gaze distant yet filled with a quiet contentment. "And a little while later, came the kids."

In the quiet of that moment, as the teacups sat forgotten between them, the years of separation seemed to fade into the background. The echoes of a past that had haunted them both began to soften, replaced by the tentative hope of a future that held the promise of healing and renewal.

@thescorpioscrow I changed some stuff, and for that I apologize. Writer’s block was not helping me. Hope you still enjoyed it!

#fanfiction #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader #angst #fluff #kaz brekker #oneshot

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