Shadow And Bone X Reader - Tumblr Posts
i had no idea this was happening, if you take my work and repost it without asking me (i swear i’m super chill and if you ask to upload my work on a separate platform while still giving me credit there’s a 99.9 percent chance I’ll say yes and if I say no I won’t be mean about it and i’ll explain my reasoning behind my answer) and I find out you will be blocked, if any of you know who might be doing this pls report them/let me know
Oh I sure missed the time when people repost my work without my permission and they've been copypasted... 😊
Other people writing for Kaz have their fics in that book too. I recommend checking it out and call the user out if you don't feel comfortable (I can inform her myself if you don't have a Wattpad). She most likely didn't ask for permission and also has edited your fic slightly. She has credited you but I think they should always ask for permission and honor it if it's a no.
(Personally I accept translations if you ask for a permission but reposting like this is a no)
@alcottsangel @magpiencrow @goldengoddess @dreamer-writer-fangirl @yesimwriting @parkersbliss @mymagicsuitcase your works are included.
Falling Angels
A/n this literally poureddd from me, might be bad bc recently i’ve hated everything i’ve written (my drafts are full lol)
--
Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story
Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life.
Pairing: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x psychic! sunshine-y! reader
Warning: mentions of sexual harassment, slight cursing, near death experience
--
Enjoy it, because it doesn’t last. That’s what the older girls whisper, mock casualness attempting to disguise bitter undertones as I walk past them. They say this, sharp nails ready to be covered in blood as red as their lipstick, because the pile of gifts from my ‘admirers’ keep coming. Circus hands keep approaching the long vanity in the dressing room tent, tapping me on the shoulder politely to shove cards and bouquets of flowers in my lap. They don’t understand that the praise isn’t because the patrons of our performances find me more beautiful--they’re desperate for my favor. They’re desperate to know their future.
Looking at myself in the mirror, the pageantry of it all has not yet grown old to me. My hair is still in the process of being styled, my stage makeup is half done, and I am not yet coated in that golden shimmer Senia always dusts across my cheeks and shoulders. But I am more enhanced than I normally am, eyes made bright by thick coats of mascara, cupid's bow made prominent by ruby lipstick. The lip look is more daring than I’ve been before, but there can’t be much harm in change. Not when half the women here keep looking at me like I’m the saint of virginity.
It’s not my fault that the Ringmaster thought an angelic aesthetic would work best for the fortune teller who walks around before the show, reading palms so that people can have their pockets picked. It’s not my fault people want an angel to take the stage and call people down from the audience to get a detailed reading around the crowded circus tent. I don’t pick the costumes, and while I acknowledge that mine shows the least amount of skin, the Ringmaster found a way to dress me as suggestively as possible without ruining the illusion of innocence.
At least the flowing tulle wings that are stitched into the back of my costume are beautiful. It’s easier when I enjoy the good.
“Y/n!” The familiar call of Senia. I turn my head, beaming. “You’re a vision, and all of those jealous girls--you can tell them to take their wrinkling faces and--”
“Seria.” For someone so much like a mother, she often needs to be reminded that not everything needs an aggressive rebuttal. “Think about it from their perspectives--their entire existence is dependent on how sellable they are, how attractive they are to men who only want to use them. If that makes them mad at me because they feel like my youth and novelty is taking from them, then that’s okay.” She raises a fine eyebrow. “I can take a few mean words.”
Seria purses her lips. “Okay, but I’m just as old and tired and you don’t see me trying to poison you.”
I roll my eyes.
“Look, it's our very own saint.” I roll my eyes, Via’s shrill voice piercing through me like an annoying papercut. “And in such a scandalous lip color--has the Ringmaster finally taken you to the ivory tent?”
Ivory tent. It’s been mentioned to me before and always in jest. “Where he takes me is none of your business, if not being the favorite hurts you so badly ju--”
She laughs, the sound is pure vile. “Being the favorite is the worst thing you could be in a place like this. You’re shiny and new and soon you’ll be as used as the rest of us--Seria’s use is waning, what happened to her today is proof of that. Soon you’ll have no one to protect you.”
When she looks at me I see more pain than hatred. “I think we’d get along better if I had it in me to hate you.”
She raises an eyebrow before shaking a cigarette from a small box into her palm. “You’ll get there, princess.”
The nickname leaves me burning. There’s nothing more consuming than fire. “You better pray to the real Saints I don’t.”
via laughs, lifting the cigarette to her lips and lighting it with her abilities. She walks away, turning my threat into that of a child’s.
“She’s right on two accounts.” Seria hums, “The Ringmaster will kill you if you wear that lipstick and Ketterdam turns people like you into people like me. We could save up, pay off your indenture--get you out.”
Seria doesn’t need to make sacrifices like that. Not for me. Besides, there’s no leaving Ketterdam for me. Not anymore. “Being like you wouldn’t be a bad thing.” I scratch my arm, see through material wrinkling as a result. “And I can’t--I can’t just leave. I’m a psychic, no Grisha can see the future. I need the facelessness of Ketterdam.” Her lips thin in protest. “And don’t think I didn’t hear what she said about you--what happened to your foot, and what’s in the ivory tent? People keep saying it, whispering it like there’s--”
“That tent is nothing that will ever concern you. I’ve given you my guidance, and the one thing I ask is that you never ask or go to the ivory tent.”
I swallow once, the intensity in her eyes leaving me raw. “What if he tells me to?”
“He won’t.” Seria breathes. “He doesn’t like that for you.”
This isn’t an argument I can have now, not with two minutes until the show starts. “And your foot?”
She shrugs, holding up a bandaged ankle. “You get older, your ligaments like the tightrope walk less and less. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not tightrope walking like that--”
“Yes, I am. The Ringmaster doesn’t know and he can’t--if I start giving him performance trouble--you don’t know what happens to the girls who can’t pay off their indenture by performing.”
I swallow once. “You’ll be careful?”
“Always,” she grins, “Besides--one day you’ll know enough about tightrope walking to help me on days like this.”
The last time I trained on the mini-tightrope had proven me to be a disappointment. Still, I smile at her softly. I open my mouth to respond, but a quick tap to my shoulder silences me.
“Miss,” a circus hand I recognize begins.
I smile politely. “Please leave any gifts on my vanity--”
“It’s not a gift,” he mumbles, voice taut, “You have visitors.”
Something solid pushes itself into my chest, wedging itself between my lungs. Have they found me? “I-I don’t take visitors. Not before shows, if someone wants a private reading they’re to go to my tent at the front--”
“We’re not here for readings or any of the other lies you sell.”
...Surprising. I let my gaze move from the face of the circus hand and towards the individuals behind him. A man, tall and dressed in business attire--hat and all. His face is all sharp angles and his eyes are emotionless. His leather-gloved hands grip the head of an intricate cane. Next to him is another tall man, dressed a little more casually, with dark curls. Lastly, there’s a girl, with oil-black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail.
“Then what are you here for?”
Seria, never one to leave me unattended around strange men, takes a step in front of me. “I know who you are, Dirtyhands, and I know there’s no business you could find with her.”
What? Dirtyhands? Can people in Ketterdam ever just be normal?
“I wouldn’t speak so certainly.” I don’t like the way his eyes narrow at Seria or the way his grip on the cane tightens.
Thoughtlessly, I stick a hand between them, forcing Seria back slightly. “I apologize, she’s protective--always assuming the worst in people. Though considering she called you ‘Dirtyhands’, maybe that’s what you want.”
Ugh. All I do is ramble when I most definitely shouldn’t. “Want what?”
Eyebrows drawing together, I force myself to hold his gaze. “For people to assume the worst.”
The response seems to confuse him. That’s okay--I’ll take anything over aggressive. “The only people I want to assume the worst are those I want to be right.”
Okay. Dramatic was a fair assumption.
“Seria.” Oh no. I know that voice. I know that voice too well. “They tell me you're injured.”
Seria stiffens, as does every performer when he addresses them. “Not too injured to perform, sir.”
The Ringmaster sneers. “I can’t risk you falling and embarrassing me. Perhaps tonight you’ll make your money by spending the entire show in the ivory tent.”
The way she hardens wrenches my gut. I press my hands to avoid reaching out for her. “I can do the tightrope.” The Ringmaster’s gaze shifts towards me. “I can do it--and I can do it well and I’ll give the profit to Seria.”
He tilts his chin, regarding me in a way a woman should never be regarded. He’s a predator and I’m a lamb that’s lost its way. Still, I hold his gaze. I don’t flinch, even when he moves to brush his knuckles along my cheek. His touch is acid. Pure, burning acid. “The wings I placed on your back are decorative.”
“I don’t need them.” Total bullshit.
“Hm,” he breathes, letting the smell of alcohol fill the space between us, “I’ll allow it.” The Ringmaster drops his hand to his side. “Wipe that lipstick off your face before someone mistakes you for one of these common whores.”
How I don’t throw up at the sight of him is a miracle in itself. By some small mercy, he turns and walks away before I have to respond.
“You’re an idiot--you know you’re not ready for the tightrope.”
“There’s a net,” I try to keep my voice light, dismissive. She remains tense. “Seria, I had to.”
“No, you could have--”
“It’s not fair that you’re always a shield for me. When the opportunity to shield you for once comes, I’ll take it.” Turning before she can protest, I try to walk forward. The stranger places his cane where I intend to walk, intentionally warning me that he decides when our conversation is over. Unfortunately, I used up all my patience with the Ringmaster. “130 kruge.” He raises an eyebrow. “That’s the estimated amount I’ll make tonight, unless I’m late and excluded from the show. Either make up the deficit you’ll be costing me or let me go.”
His eyebrows draw together, shifting his expression from neutrally calloused to something much darker. “Kaz.” This comes from the girl. She takes a step forward. “Look one step ahead.”
“Excuse me?”
“Everyone thinks you’re not supposed to look down, but looking up is just as impractical.” She pauses, expression strangely mesmerized, “Look one step ahead--not at your feet.”
My genuine smile shocks me. “Thank you.”
“I should be thanking you, Sankta y/n.” Her head bows, hands held together as if in prayer.
Oh. She’s one of the religious that believes me an actual Saint. “I appreciate the sentiment, but if I was a Saint I’d be able to help people.” No matter what I do, no matter how much blood I offer, I can never help people. “And as you’ve seen--I can’t.”
--
The crowd’s roaring is a different world to me. On the platform, feet away from the other wooden structure acting as solid ground, everything is different. I am now in a world where the only thing to believe in is a taut rope. The net is beneath me. I’ve seen it--I’ve checked it.
“And for our grand finale!” The Ringmaster calls, voice billowing over an excited crowd. “Our very own angel defies death!”
An odd way to phrase the tightrope walk. It’s never called ‘defying death’. I had been surprised when I was told that tonight the tightrope walk would be the grand finale--I assumed it was because it featured me. I’m always the finale now. I try to move my foot off the platform but it’s planted firmly. No. I need to see Seria--I need to see who I’m doing this for. I force my gaze to the ground, panic rising in my chest.
Instead of Seria, I see Via--her smirk apparent even from here. Spite’s a decent motivator. My foot descends off the platform, touching the tightrope cautiously. And then I move my other foot. All of me is now on this damn rope. I hadn’t been unforgivably horrible during practice, but I hadn’t been graceful either.
Don’t look down, don’t look up--only look one step ahead. One step ahead--one step at a time. Balance. I take another step. The room is so silent there’s no doubt in my mind the sound of my bones cracking would be heard from the back row. But there’s the net. There’s always the net. I take a second step. And then a third--eyes focused on only one step ahead.
And then the phantom of flame comes to claim me. Fire. The world around me is burning. Damning the consequences, I let my gaze fall to the world beneath me. The net--the Ringmaster had an Inferni light the net on fire. Via--that explains the look.
I can’t fall--the guilt would kill Seria.
Panic twists my stomach as I continue forward. One step ahead. One step ahead--the flames lick upwards, promising pain and grief all over again. One step ahead. One step--that’s all there is to it. The warmth of the fire calls to me. Burning. Burning--and one more step. This isn’t forever. This isn’t permanent--either way this will soon be over.
There’s no miracle for me. No good grace, no wings that would let me save myself. There is only balance.
One step ahead. And then another step. And then I see the other wooden platform. Thank the Saints. I grip the ladder of the platform as quickly as possible. The cheers mean nothing to me as I scurry down the ladder.
I feel a sharp breeze, a Grisha putting out the flames. Anger pools in my chest as I move towards the exit of the tent.
“Y/n.” No. Not him again. That man--Kaz, Dirtyhands, whoever he is--needs to go away. “Y/n.” I turn sharply, anger pulsing through me. My expression must be feral, because he stalls. “They didn’t tell you that they were going to burn the net.”
The fact that he can tell--that he can see my panic and how close I came to death twists my anger into something more fragile. “No.” My posture straightens. “I need to go now, I do--I do readings after shows.”
“Y/n.” He repeats, firmer.
My nails dig into my palms. “I’m going--”
“I know what you are.”
Tensing, my breathing stalls. “What?”
Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do like a short story post or something I wonder how Our General Kirigan would react to a shy reader? Would he tease her? Be frustrated with her? And how would she react? Idk maybe just a thought 😅 I asked you because i really like your writing and I feel like you would really do a good job and I like the way you portray the General. 😊
a/n i have been crying/feeling shitty for the past two days for no reason!! so i thought it might make me feel better to try writing headcanons! i have SO MANY half done requests/fics but as of recently i hate everything that i write!! so i thought i'd work on this request that lends itself to headcanons
also im glad you like my writing :))
--
General Kirigan with a shy! reader headcanons:
- First things first, I think how he interacts with someone shy that he sees as a (potential) romantic interest varies per situation. Like generally, he finds the timidness kind of soft which is so different from what he's used to that he finds that aspect kind of endearing.
- He'd never admit that at the beginning, but the more time you spend with him the clearer it becomes to you because of how he acts when you're alone together
- At first, he'd hold onto his usual stoic disposition, but after realizing that at the end of the day your shyness is genuine and not an attempt to seem meek in order to trick people/him he'd begin to tease you about it when you two are alone.
- The first time he makes a comment that's just a little,, kinda-almost suggestive (a comment about how he wonders what it'd be like to be a Heartrender so that he could hear the change in your heartbeat every time you shied away from something) you're too confused to be embarrassed for like two seconds.
- You're basically that meme that's like did I hear that shit righttt??
- So you meet his gaze, and there's absolutely nothing but warm confidence there and you realize that he had in fact,,, said that.
- You hold his gaze for a moment out of protest (which is an incredible feat) and then you have to drop your eyes to the floor. You mumble some comment about how his ability to summon shadows isn't exactly a boring skill.
- Your reaction is so soft,, Kirigan can't help but be endeared even further. Something he wasn't exactly expecting and isn't too thrilled about. He doesn't think being shy makes you weak,, but he's extremely wary about how you're perceived and how people may treat you because of it.
- He doesn't doubt his ability to protect you, but he doesn't want to be distracted,, not with all he has to do.
- Still, he can't help mumble comments whenever there's a brief pause and you two are alone
- Meanwhile, you're starting to notice that now more situations keep coming up when you're left alone with Kirigan?? like he's always in the library when you are, he's always walking in to assess training when you're training and he just so happens to linger until you leave and then he just so happens needs to walk in the same hallway.
- It's a little strange at first,, but you're more horrified by the fact that you're not mad about it than the fact that it's happening. Especially since you know how much joy he gets from getting you flustered. You can see that in that slightly cocky uptilt to his lips whenever you're left gaping at him.
- Why doesn't it bother you?? You try to rationalize it and the only conclusion you can come to is the fact that he's attractive and powerful and even though your face gets hot whenever he talks to you,, there's appeal in those qualities. There's appeal in getting the infamous General to smile.
- Even if it costs you the bit of pride you have.
- You don't get why you're the one he seems to be going out of his way to speak to (maybe when your life is as stressful as his is,, at the end of the day you just want something easy and if he's in the mood to be flirty, you're easy) but you're not mad. You just have to constantly remind yourself to not be foolish enough to think you're the only one he goes out of his way to talk to.
- And as time progresses, you get a little more comfortable with his banter. You stop shying away completely,, which only encourages him to get bolder with his comments.
- Nothing insane,, not yet, just a little more direct.
- It kind of becomes a little game to him,, to see how flustered he can get you with the minimal amount of effort. Every once in awhile, you manage to act normally, but he's quick to shut that down by upping his game just slightly.
- After awhile, it starts to become a game for you too, to see how much of your instincts you can suppress just to take away some of his satisfaction. Only when he's getting a little too smug.
- But that's when y'all are alone...
- When you're surrounded by others, sometimes it feels like you don't even exist to each other. Sometimes that's a lonely feeling for both of you, but each of you is convinced that they're the only one that feels the absence.
- In your defense, you're much more entitled to those feelings because he can literally do whatever he wants. You can't just walk up to the General and do what?? ask him why he hasn't made any suggestive comment in the last couple of hours??
- please that embarrassing!! even if you weren't shy, that would be out of POCKET
- Meanwhile Kirigan is just like being angsty and debating the implications of seeking you out in an environment with so many important people. He could probably manage a minute or two by your side without making anyone suspicious, but the danger in that is that he won't be able to bring himself to leave after those minutes pass him.
- Worse,, he may even find an excuse for both of you to step out into the hall so that he can make his comments and take in your reactions in private.
- It's especially difficult when you have that one strand of hair just slightly out of place,, presenting the perfect excuse for him to just fix it and then drop his hand slowly so that his fingertips can brush the side of your cheek.
- And you're growing tired of the crowds of people you're not comfortable with and you're starting to feel more and more stupid for letting something that was so clearly just a playful distraction mean anything to you.
- But before either of you can succumb to your angsty pinning (cough, cough,, simps) his eyes will find yours from across the room and that's EVERYTHING
- At first, you want to be stiff and look away because it's probably not intentional, but then he gives you that little smirk. And then you feel stupid for ever doubting that you two at least have some kind of friendship. (maybe more,, but you're too scared to let yourself think that,, ;))
- And then you give him this shy smile,, and that's it. He's done--that one look undoes him entirely.
- So he starts shifting towards you as casually as possible, because if he can't be with you right now, surely being near you is good enough for now.
- You're unaware of this,, and when the moment ends you find yourself longing for more, but relatively satisfied. You don't expect anything from him, he's important and you're you.
- And being around people drains you because you genuinely want to stay out of any situation that would have too much attention on you at once. So once Kirigan moves and you can't find him in the crowd, you decide now is as good a time as any to step out and get some air, especially since no one currently needs you for anything.
- So you disappear into the corridor, planning to be gone only for a few minutes. But the second you're about two steps into the hallway, you hear another's footsteps.
- The hopeful part of you is like 'maybe it's him!!' but you don't really think that. There's something about the atmosphere that feels too tense,, too wrong for you to believe it's him.
- A moment later, your suspicions are confirmed. A grisha known for his impulsiveness is calling out to you, asking you where you're going.
- You explain that you just wanted to get some air and that you'd be returning in a minute. You try to sound dismissive, clearly establishing that you'd like your minute to yourself.
- It's clear that he understands the hint, but he doesn't move. He just keeps asking you questions.
- Your answers get shorter and shorter, the nerves your feeling tensing with each word as he begins to venture from falsely casual conversation to more flirtatious words. Being shy can leave you speaking too much, spluttering out words in hopes of saying the right thing to let you escape, but this is a different type of nervousness. Something feels wrong.
- And he just keeps saying things, things that even Kirigan wouldn't be able to get away with.
- All the while, you're desperate to escape, but they're persistent.
- And just when you're losing hope, and his advances get so bold he has you literally backed into a corner--a familiar voice comes to you like a lifeline.
- Kirigan, with all the authority of the general, questions what's going on. The guy that was so relentlessly hitting on you moves back like suddenly you're fire and begins to back away. He tries to explain himself but Kirigan is not having it.
- As soon as the stranger leaves, you feel like you can breathe again, but your nerves are still on edge. Kirigan's looking at you in a way you've never seen before. Sharp and almost--almost angry?
- You try to mumble a quick thanks, intending to disappear back to where you're supposed to be, but Kirigan's gaze keeps you planted against the wall.
- His gaze is so intense you ask him if he's alright.
- The question cracks something in him because of course you'd ask him if he's okay after something happened to you. His expression softens slightly, which you think is a good thing but then he speaks,, and his voice is not calm at all
- He's mad at the person that did that and the irrational part of him makes it seem like he's a little mad at you for letting that situation happen, but it's only because he's worried about what would have happened if he hadn't gotten there in time.
- And you're kind of confused because like?? what does he want from you? you made it clear you were uncomfortable and you were trying to get away?
- But after a quick snap and the fact that you're okay settles in,, he does feel a little bad. So he comes close to apologizing,, but that's basically just him saying he's glad that you're okay.
- You don't really ease, so he decides to make a partial joke about how maybe he needs to be around you more,, just to be safe,, you know
- And you smile slightly, and you're like 'y'know i'm not completely helpless.'
- and he's like 'pity,, i would've liked the excuse'
- your face instantly feels extremely warm and you're not sure what you could even, plausibly say to that. But you can't let him have the last word,, not like that. So you're overcompensating, rambling, but then at the end...you say something about how he doesn't really need an excuse to stay near you.
- When you realize what you've said, fight or flight kicks in,, but you can't move. And there's no casual way to escape, so you decide that maybe you'll cut your losses for today because that might have been your most significant reply to him ever, and you feel like an idiot because he was probably joking. And you just had to say that and make it weird.
- So you allow exactly one second of unfortunate silence, your eyes glued to the ground. And then you make some excuse about needing to get back to where you were.
- But Kirigan stops you, and you think about how you can't avoid looking him in the eyes forever, so you just kind of barely dare to glance upwards.
- And he's smiling broader than usual, the look is so warm it melts away all the bad feelings from earlier. You have absolutely no idea what it means, but you know it's not...bad.
- And then he shifts slightly, and that's when you realize he's never been this close before.
- He then asks if you're sure, voice much lower than earlier.
- You can't speak,, too trapped on a line you don't understand.
- But as he leans forward, the only answer he needs is the instinctual part of your lips as his warm breath reaches your cheek.
- And with that he turns his head just a fraction of an inch,, and his lips meet yours.
- It's just a quick brush of lips,, a soft test. And when you don't protest, he moves to let the contact be a little more assured, yet still teasing.
- Something in you grows impatient, and you move a little in hopes that he'll take the hint.
- But that's all it takes for him to pull away, expression bright and teasing before playfully chiding you for being so eager.
- He then turns, leaving you more flustered than ever.
YALL WHAT SHOULD I WRITE FIRST
Okay!! so both of these are coming at some point!! i have some requests i’ve been working on and i’ve also been working on my original novel (that i hope to get published one day) but i really want to start working on one of my fairytale retellings/AUs(technically not more AU than a regular fic lol)/whatever you want to call them.
But i can’t pick which one to do first!!
- Beauty and the Beast retelling
-Darkling/General Kirigan x reader currently,, but i’m willing to listen to arguments for making this more SOC based and Kaz Brekker x reader, but i think the beauty and the beast theme works better for more SAB based story
- currently focuses on the reader agreeing to take someone’s place as General Kirigan’s prisoner/someone that has to work for him
- I think the plot is going to focus on the reader being a powerful grisha which is part of the reason he took her (like a strong heartrender that can manipulate emotions really precisely,, still unsure if i’d rather her be just human)
- the reader is low key really impressed with the Little Palace bc she grew up in poverty but she’s trying really hard not to be
- the (slight) AU part is that Kirigan needs someone of ‘pure heart’ to fall for the person beneath the darkness to unlock more power than ever bc of an ancient curse (and the person of ‘pure heart’ is the reader bc she has no ulterior motive to like him)
- but then he’s like!! i like her--oh no i like her
- i see Genya as mrs potts lowkey like she knows that Kirigan wants to win the reader’s love and she’s like trying to help lol
- Alina lowkey hyping up their connection
- Reader being all sunshiney and a sweetheart who is literally immune to Kirigan’s angst
- enemies to lovers excellence
- jealous kirigan,, jealous kirigan,,, jealous kirigan
- protective boyfriend vibes wayyy before they start dating lmao
- honestly a lot of acting cute together but still being like ‘i hate u’
- Anastasia retelling
- Kaz Brekker x reader
- based lowkey more on the musical than the disney movie (the only real difference in the musical is that someone thinks about killing Anastasia for the Russian revolution)
- the plot would focus on the return of annual rumors of a princess that might have survived a massacre at the palace
- i would create my own country in the grishaverse for the reader to be the princess of so that i can give it the history i need for my story
- so you know how in Anastasia Dimitri worked at the palace and he saved Anastasia?? my idea for this one is that the Dregs were hired to kill the royal family that the reader is a part of and bc of what he considers a lapse of judgement, Kaz helps the reader escape bc she was the youngest there and they had an interaction that like tugged at him
- anywayssss.... fast forward years later and Kaz is as hardened as he is in the SOC books, he thinks that the princess he helped died anyways bc he saw her run off in the wrong direction
- but!! the princess’s royal grandmother is still looking for her and this year she’s offering more kruge than ever for the return of her missing granddaughter
- Kaz runs into the reader after she tries to pickpocket him and when he realizes that she’s an orphan that looks enough like Anastasia (same hair color, same eye color, etc) with amnesia he’s like ‘it’s perfect’
- the reader is like ?? i don’t know any royal traditions or anything about the royal family,, and also im indentured to this guy who is not going to like this
- and Kaz is like don’t worry about that guy
- the reader is like ?? don’t worry--
- and he’s like yeahh,, i’ll pull some strings (he’s not really pulling strings, he’s paying for her time but he would never tell the reader that bc it makes her seem valuable and no one wants their time ‘purchased’)
- and then princess training starts!! the reader has to study on family history through textbooks but she still has like no formal etiquette skills and Kaz is like ‘i have a merchling that was part of high society, he can teach you table manners’
- Wylan is like you have a what now?? and Kaz is like shut up
- the reader agrees obviously bc Kaz is like i could kill you,, you did try to steal from me, but he’s also like ‘if you’re made a princess you can pay off your indenture and the indentures of your friends’
- lots of the crows being best friends with the reader in this one
- the reader is a gifted medic but touching blood makes her feel ill bc of trauma
- im thinking of making her a tailor to explain why she brought in so much money for the people she worked for (because she could make herself look like anyone’s type) but im thinking that subplot might complicate things but i do want her to be grisha so maybe a squaller?? idk
- throughout the story im going to have Kaz think about how he lowkey regrets letting the girl go at the beginning bc it’s an unfinished job technically and bc the family was evil and they did bad by their people
- reader realizes that she’s been romanticizing this family and that theyre actually bad and she’d rather just stay with the crows
- kaz realizes he wants the reader to stay
- both being too prideful to say anything until the reader is like ‘screw it’ but before she can tell kaz (the night before her coronation) kaz is like pls tell me you don’t think you’re her and the reader is like i said i wouldn’t lie to you
- and kaz is genuinely considering killing her to like finish what was started and bc he really hates that family (i’ll explain why he hates the family in the fic lol)
- enemies to lovers bc it’s my favorite,,
- a lot of everyone being confused on how the reader is allowed to get away with half the stuff kaz allows and then whenever anyone is like YALL ARE ACTING LIKE A COUPLE the reader is like ??this is just how i act? and everyones like YEAH BUT KAZ DOESNT LET PEOPLE ACT LIKE THAT
- and kaz is like i literally dont know what ur talking about i yelled at her this morning,, i promise i did, it’s not my fault u didn’t see it--i totally yelle--
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yall i lowkey want to write both of these NOW but i need to learn impulse control pls,, help lol
AND I DIDNT EVEN TELL YALL ABOUT MY TANGLED OR HADES&PERSEPHONE RETELLING IDEAS MUAHAHAHA PLS SOMEONE MAKE ME STOP IM SUCH A SIMP FOR RETELLINGS
IM BACKK!!
hii yall!! i was on vacation,, i had a great time but now im back home and working on a lot of requests (my drafts are fullll i pormise lol)
here are some things ive wanted to talk about but couldnt bc i was out of the country:
SHADOW AND BONE SEASON TWO YALL AHHHHH
I HIT 800 FOLLOWERS ON HERE AHHH WHATT?? LOVE YALL
also i read the first red queen book and um.,,, so much to discuss!! the ending was so dramatic! very willing to write for it lol (even though not one character in that book has an OUNCE OF CHILL OH MY GOD)
im currently reading bone crier’s moon and it’s really good!! but honestly fantasy books just make me want to reread SOC or SAB lmao,
anywaysss hiii :))
Hi! Could I request a story or headcanons with Kirigan and a female reader? They are couple and reader do small cute things for our General to make him feel loved and appreciated? She is a good and kind person and even though she knows what he's doing/done bad things but loves him anyway? We all know he's a villain but we love our Alexander 🖤 Thank you! And If you don't feel like writing it, it's okay! Have a good night/day! 😊
a/n ahh excited for this one bc ive been THINKING about cute things that could be done bc yes he's brooding and evil but also loves the idea of not being alone and having someone care about them despite it all (even though he'd never admit it loll)
also the person that requested this seems so nice,, the gif was very cute :))
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- ok first off i think it needs to be said that a relationship with Kirigan/the Darkling would have SO MANY ups and downs that getting to the point of being officially together would take so LONG--lots of resentful pining on both ends
- mainly bc youre like ‘i hate that his eyes are so warm, he’s literally evil’ and he’s like ‘stop looking at her like that, she’s too good to understand what you have to do, and even if she could care about you despite that, she’s a distraction’
- He also lowkey can’t stand you bc of how much he likes you. It makes him feel weak, and you’re just so good that it’s infuriating because he just can’t get himself to believe it. Especially when you don’t shy away from him.
- but both of you are SIMPS first and foremost, so slowly you and both start to ease up. You both end up getting tired of resisting what you want so you slowly start to allow small things.
- a veryyy slippery slope bc hand brushes turn into hand holding which turns into the occasional hug which turns into more open pining and then before you know it it’s weird if you two aren’t sleeping in the same bed like a married couple.
- i feel like he wouldn’t have an ‘official relationship’ talk or at the very least, he wouldn’t initiate one. When he has to think about how he feels about you, labels make him flighty bc he likes the freedom of being able to use the feelings of others for personal gain without directly hurting you (he’d never want to cheat bc he doesn’t want the way you look at him to change) but when he thinks of his relationship with you, he doesn’t feel trapped,,
- you two never start liking each other the way normal couples do,, you’re always snarky but still affectionate. You’ll make a joke about how his late nights working serve him right for scheming so much while he crawls into bed, but you’ll make the joke while pulling him to your chest and combing your fingers through his hair. He’ll tease you about your goodness while tracing idle pattens into your skin.
- anyways i feel like a relationship with the darkling would definitely be intense,, but like an intense unspoken thing. The closest he ever comes to saying anything about a relationship is when he randomly says something that’s really romantic for NO REASON,, literally always out of normal
- you’ll be half asleep or waiting for him to react to a story you’re telling him about and he’ll just say something about how he doesn’t understand how he went so long without you or that you’re the only good thing he believes in and then moves on like it’s nothing.
- anywayss,, i kinda rambled but the complexities of the relationship are important to understanding how you cheer him up.
- Kirigan is definitely has a thing for gentle, casual touch. He’s an amplifier so he’s used to seeing touch as more than just touch. He always has to look at it tactfully, thinking of what he’s giving.
- so sometimes, if he’s clearly upset over something, the best thing you can do for him is squeeze his hand or run your fingertips against his bare back. You know he’s furious when he vaguely attempts to resist your reach for him. He always takes it back after,, but it’s not personal. It’s that you soften him so much and when he’s that angry he wants to hold onto it.
- Speaking of softness, most of your attempts to comfort him are extremlyyy soft so normally you wait to try to comfort him until you’re alone. You’ll normally notice his mood shift the second he enters the room, but you know to wait.
- sometimes the way you ‘comfort’ him when he seems upset in public, you’ll give him a look that offers so much. It offers silent support (even though you rarely agree with what he wants), it offers to provide him an excuse if he needs to leave, it offers so much warmth that for a moment he forgets the coldness around him
- I think sometimes the best thing you can offer him is your presence, especially if your views don’t align. You’ll just sit/lay with him, holding hands or resting on each other.
- Sometimes though, he finds a lot of comfort in your voice. You can always tell when he wants you to speak because he’ll ask you questions until you either end up telling him about your day or reading to him.
- If he’s the emotional kind of upset, like the really touchy, burring his face in the crook of your neck, upset--you’ll comfort him by telling him how much you care about him. He also seems to ease when you remind him that you’re not going anywhere,, no matter what.
- remember earlier how i said the relationship would be intense and start through mutual, unwanted pining? i think its bc he’s so focused on his goals he’d only let himself be ‘distracted’ if he just couldn’t deny you as the one, bright, comforting thing he has and at one point he just couldn’t deny it anymore
- so a lot of what you do for him centers on letting him soak up your presence bc its his favorite escape
The Problem With Light
a/n i literally did not mean to write this, i was working on requests and then my mind was like ‘remember that lowkey love triangle kaz brekker x reader x darkling thing you always say you're going to write’ so yeah,, here we are :)),, two longer fics are coming!!
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Summary: Kaz changes his plans after meeting the Sun Summoner and Kirigan teeters on a line the reader isn’t sure she wants.
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Chapter One: The Conflicts of Prayer
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Narrator.
--
Kaz knows a lot about patience. He knows how to bear the weight that the passage of time thrusts onto one's shoulder. He knows how to cultivate the seeds that he sews. If he wasn’t like this he’d stand no chance at one day avenging the ghost that refuses to leave him.
But Jesper is almost an hour late. Kaz has been standing in a dimly hit branch of a relatively important hallway in the Little Palace. Jesper was supposed to come while in disguise to bring Kaz his new disguise and his newly repaired cane. Kaz’s hand flexes again, wishing he could feel the detailed head of one of his few comforts beneath the broken-in leather of his gloves. A bitter part of him claims that if Jesper isn’t injured once he arrives, he’ll be injured once Kaz gets his hand on his cane.
He shifts his weight, the pain in his leg starting to take its toll. The slight relaxation disappears once he hears footsteps. Kaz turns, ignoring the ache the motion brings him. His entire body hardens, preparing for a fight. He doesn’t look like he belongs here yet and there’s nowhere to run. The person crossing his path will need to be taken care of--knocked out or something more permanent.
The person only pauses to look at him when Kaz angles himself forward in a fighting stance. He watches the person, a girl, shifts back slightly, eyes wide and defensive. She’s a mess--hair disheveled, nose slightly bleeding, and dirty kefta. Her appearance isn’t why Kaz finds himself frozen, not because of the girl’s appearance but because she’s her. Y/n l/n. The Sun Summoner.
“Sorry! I--” She almost winces, but then her eyebrows furrow together. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Kaz’s jaw locks. He could take her physically, but for all he knows she could raise her arms and blind him permanently with her light. “That’s okay,” she breathes, something in her looking a little relieved, “I’m not supposed to be here either.” Kaz watches her oddly, wondering if her trustingness is a trap in itself. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
It’s a joke. That much is clear by the gentle uptilt of her lips. It’s as if she doesn’t know she’s bleeding and looks like she just ran out of a fight. Her expression doesn’t harshen at his silence. Kaz finds himself disliking that. It’s not enough that she can summon the sun, she also has to seem like it.
He needs to say something. Jesper was supposed to be watching her and now he’s not here and she is. The plan is unraveling and if he talks she’ll stay here or reveal where she’s going to next. That’s the kind of thing he needs to salvage this.
His lips part, but he’s not sure what to say. “You’re not supposed to be here?”
She shakes her head once. “No--I’m supposed to be in personal training, but I kind of got my ass kicked in group training and my pride needs a break.” The admission leaves her sheepishly. “It’s probably for the best, becoming a Sun Summoner overnight has given me a bit of an ego.” She sighs, the sound strangely light. “Then again, I kind of need an ego for what’s wanted from me and if one bad fight is all it takes to kill it then it’s not strong enough, considering--” Kaz tenses as she cuts herself off. “Sorry, I’m rambling, we both have places to be.” Hope presses into him stiffly. She’s going to say it. “Where--where are you supposed to be?” She shifts back slightly. “Not that I have to know, but you’re not from here, and--”
Kaz steps forward, pushing through the stiffness in his leg. Y/n’s gaze drops. Kaz’s discomfort worsens, someone like her doesn’t need to know his weaknesses. “Are you here for me to pray for you?” She scratches her arm, “I-I can, but I tell everyone I pray for I don’t consider myself a Saint.”
The honesty of the comment twisted something in Kaz’s thoughts. “Yes,” he lies, partially distracted by the beginnings of a scheme. He can feel Inej’s future anger as he lies again, “I’m here for prayer.”
“I spent so long rambling,” she says in a tone that implies apology.
He nods once, wondering how someone could be that apologetic and survive. The weight of such power must strangle someone like her. That could be a good thing. Someone like her must be spiraling with all this change and sudden strength. Maybe this could be simpler than an abduction plan, a few choice words and he could convince the girl to come with him. He could get her to believe there was something she needed to do in Ketterdam. If she went there willingly, things could be much more efficient.
Inej won’t like this, and for this to work he’ll have to think of the right way to present the plan to her. He weighs his options and the details as y/n whispers words with her eyes closed and hands folded together. The words he can make out are kind. He expected that, but what he didn’t expect was the earnestness of them.
She means each part of her prayers. Kaz regrets noticing that.
“I can’t promise my prayers do anything,” she finishes, voice returning to its normal volume, “but I hope you get what you need.”
What he wants is within his grasp now that he knows what to do. “I’m sure good things are near.” It’s the most honest he’s been since her arrival.
Y/n nods once, “I should go before my reprieve costs me more than it's worth.”
He watches her disappear down the hallway. Her movements are light, calm and unweighted.
“Boss,” Jesper’s appearance is brash, “I’ve spent this entire time looking for her. She was in training like she was supposed to, took an awul blow, delivered an even meaner one, and then disappeared.”
Kaz tries to imagine the same hands that were just so neatly folded in prayer as fists. “You just missed her.” He doesn’t wait for Jesper’s reaction, he just takes his newly repaired cane back. “And we’re changing the plan.”
--
Y/n.
--
I tried going to Baghra. I told someone who believed my prayers meant something that I was going back to training. But then I remembered her words from last time and the shame I felt when I could not create light. I haven’t summoned light once without Kirigan’s touch.
I’m the Sun Summoner--I am the person that summons the sun by themselves. Kirigan and I aren’t the Sun Summoner together. I’m pathetic. And instead of trying to get better, I’m wandering the library because all anyone can talk about is the way Zoya punched me in the face.
Baghra picked me apart when I looked shiny. I can’t imagine the kinds of comments she’d make if she saw me with a bloody nose and dead leaves in my hair. I’ll go tomorrow, once Genya fixes both my matted hair and cracked self esteem.
For now, I have the one thing that’s always comforted me. My books. I wander the library, trying not to think of anything. Of Baghra, of Zoya, of the strange man in the hall.
He seemed weighted by something. I always wish I could do more for those that ask for my prayer, but the longing is sharper now. I don’t know him, so it’s ridiculous to want to help him so badly, but my uselessness itches beneath my skin in a way I’m not used to. I don’t know why I feel more protective about this stranger than others. I’ve had people fall to my feet weeping, begging for me to save them. That hurt me, but the desire to help this one stranger burns in a way I’ve never felt before.
“I don’t know why they don’t look for you here every time you disappear.” His voice is as soft and subtle as a shadow. “They’d save so much time.”
I fight the urge to defensively grasp the first book I can reach. “You’re making it sound like I have a habit of vanishing in order to make a point.” My defense is weak. We both know that this isn’t the first time I ran away from something here. “Sometimes absence is just that.”
“When you’ve waited for someone as long as I have, all absence is significant.” The words are not harsh but they should be. I don’t know how I could respond to that.
He steps forward easily, as he always does. I keep myself still despite the way that warmth settles against my chest uncomfortably. I manage to hold onto my stillness even when he raises a hand, one gentle finger brushing above my top lip. I tense at his lingering touch.
Kirigan turns his hand slowly, exposing the red on his fingertips. “How di--”
“Training,” I interrupt quickly, “I promise I got a decent hit in as well.”
When he nods, his expression is clearly weighted but I cannot interpret it. He almost always looks like that. I shouldn’t find anything about the man that stole me from everything I’ve ever known (even though he had good reason to do so) alluring, but I want to understand him. It’d feel like knowing a secret the rest of the world is desperate for.
For a moment we just stand there, Kirigan closer than he’s ever been. Sometimes when he’s quiet I think he knows my secrets. All of mine. Even my curiosity about him. “I don’t doubt that.”
At least he tries to be nice to me sometimes. It’s more than anyone else here can say. Except maybe Genya. “You don’t have to say that.” He knows it’s true. “Keep in mind you found me in the library, hiding from Baghra.”
He hesitates. “No one likes training.”
“I think I’d find it tolerable if…” Can I say this to him? Admit the extent of my helplessness? He looks at me patiently, waiting for me to give something to him. “I’m the Sun Summoner--that’s supposed to be me. That’s supposed to be mine, and I can’t do it by myself.”
The patheticness of my struggle hits me in full force. I drop my head as he weighs my words. “It’s in you,” he says it so surely I don’t think I could argue.
I smile politely. “Thank you.”
Kirigan reaches downwards, towards my wrist. He latches onto me so quickly I’m too surprised to back away. “Light,” he prompts like it really is that easy.
I know I can do it with him, so I don’t see the point in showing it. “It doesn’t count if I get help.”
“Y/n.” Sometimes I think his voice is softer when he speaks my name.
I raise my hands, overlaying them, letting the hand that he touches make up the base of my cup. Reaching into myself, I search for the power beneath my skin. With him, that power seems to sit directly beneath the surface, desperate and greedy. I don’t call to it, instead I simply let it flow. The light bleeds from me, a sphere of blinding light bursts into my hands. It’s bright, burning, and desperate to escape my control.
My mind clamps around the power tightly, restraining it without choking it out until the light in my hands is exactly as small as I want it to be. I hold it there, letting its warmth melt away all of the bad. I let it grow, the light illuminating a path I can barely see--a path in which I do not disappoint those that need to have faith in something and for some unknown reason decided to place it in me. I hold onto that feeling, and then I let the light disappear.
I smile at my hands. The only good that’s come from this is the way the light makes me feel. “Y/n.” I look up at Kirigan, who’s showing me both of his palms. “That was you.”
A feeling better than the light coils up my stomach and into my heart. I grin. I did it without him. I can do it without him. “That--how did you know that would work?”
“I knew that you could do it, you just needed to see it.”
Warmth fills me, light and easy. A little too light. I have to work at not reaching for him, not because I need to, but because I want to. “Thank you.” This time I mean it.
“Your gratitude is premature,” he warns, but nothing about it is harsh, “I’m here to send you back to training.”
At least the thought of facing Baghra no longer devastates me. “There’s always a catch.” I smile, hoping he understands what he’s done for me. “But I think this time it may be worth it.”
He almost smiles. “Tell me if you still feel that way after spending time with Baghra.”
A fair warning. It’s more than I expect from him. “Will do.”
Kirigan’s expression threatens to soften, but he turns away from me with a soft nod before I can try to decipher the look. I let him leave before disappearing down another hall, forcing myself to look for Baghra. I think of my interaction with both Kirigan and the stranger, at least Baghra won’t be the weirdest part of my day
hi, i love all your work! could i please request headcanons for what it'd be like to go from being enemies to lovers with nikolai lantsov.
thank you:)
A/N maybe i moved this up on my request lists bc i woke up today and went 'nikolai lantsov'
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- i'm being a little liberal with cannon bc my mind first went to 'princess! reader who hates nikolai bc they're competitive and then they have to team up together to try to get their parents to break up their arranged marriage but fall in love in the process (this might be a little undetailed but i'm thinking of writing a full fic or mini-series with this plotline so let me know if you'd be interested!! i could see a smutty ending to that fic but idk,, lmk what you thing ig lol)
- Ok so first off enemies to lovers with the loml nikolai lantsov would be SO GOOD bc he's so dramatic and obviously attractive so even though you hate him you know he's hot,, there's never a dramatic realization that he's attractive bc it's just a fact
- butttt you'd rather give up any claim you have to your family's throne than feed his already gigantic ego
- okk but lets get to the beginning of your enemies to lovers relationship
- so basically every summer your parents go and stay with Nikolai's family at this super fancy vacation home bc your parents are both royalty and your kingdoms have a very healthy relationship
- just bc it's the summer season doesn't mean it's summer vacation,, so as children for about a month you two share a tutor,, and when i tell you that created a rivalry so fast i mean it
- you're not the eldest princess and you're always trying to be the best for your parents approval, nikolai just wanted to impress the really smart girl who had a pretty laugh (poor nikolai lol,, he had no way of knowing how important being the best in school no matter what was to your self esteem)
- maybe if you two could communicate you’d like each other a little better at this point but it starts when you’re pretty young and by the time you’re like 13 it’s a solidified dynamic (and 13 year olds are the MEANEST and most insecure people in the world so that’s when your relationship turns to full enemies)
- now that you’re 13 you have more princess-y requirements, especially over the summer. So when you see that Nikolai gets to practice with swords and gets more free time while you have to practice setting tables you hate him more than ever.
- Nikolai senses that you’re extra hostile but he has no idea why,, he tries asking once but he makes a joke about how ‘maybe you’re jealous bc youre no longer the center of my attention’ and even though he’s just trying to ease the tension you feel like he’s making fun of you
- so that’s when things get aggressive, but at that point summer is almost over so it’s whatever
- next summer comes and you’re still SO MAD at him,, so when you get to the estate you’re like ‘i’m not even talking to him idc how quiet these next three months are’
- and you get there all determined to hate him,, but once you get there and see him something in you cracks bc he had the audacity to spend the last year going through puberty AND LIKE HE’S ALWAYS BEEN CUTE BUT THIS IS SOMETHING ELSE
- so youre mentally panicking bc how do you even talk to someone that looks like that now???? but then you remember that you didnt even want to talk him so in a panic youre like ‘maybe i can avoid him and he’ll just assume it’s bc i hate him bc i do,, who cares if he’s unbelievably hot now’
- nikolai doesn’t assume anything, he just gets to the estate and is like ‘why hasn’t she insulted me yet?? is she suddenly too good to give me attention?’ so during the lessons that you still share he gets an idea
- he decides to one-up you in everything bc that’s always gotten a reaction out of you
- it works,, every time he corrects you or steals an answer from you, you’re ready to snap but then you look at him and take in his stupidly perfect face and you just shut up
- nikolai thinks it’s not working so he just tries harder
- by the end of week one you can’t take it anymore so when the tutor leaves at the end of lessons you snap, you tell him off for how often he’d repeat what you said and change a few words and get all the praise from the tutor
- on the inside he’s like ‘took long enough’ but the more you rant he’s like ‘is she okay???’ he’d be more concerned if you weren’t threatening his pride and at this point he’s still annoyed bc if you were that annoyed you should have just talked to him instead of ignoring him for a week
- he’s thinking that just bc you got really pretty over the last year doesn’t make you too good to yell at him on the daily
- the worst thing anyone can do to nikolai is ignore him LMAO (lowkey relatable)
- so he starts arguing with you and you’re so upset that you forget about how aggressively attractive he is
- and you two are alone in this room and the more you argue the closer you two get
- the climax of the argument is when neither of you are yelling, you’re just so mad you’re beyond raising your voice and once you’re both at that point it goes like this:
“Nikolai Lantsov, you are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met”
“Well then, Darling, you should look in a mirror.”
“You are so entitled, so ridiculously self obsessed that it ruins your attractiveness.”
“...” he literally just like blinks twice. “You think I’m attractive?”
“Uh? No--i didn’t say that at all, maybe if you didn’t have the language comprehension of a child you’d understa--” he just reaches forward, grabs the collar of your dress, and kisses you.
- it’s your first kiss so you have no idea what you’re doing and it’s with some one you CANT STAND and you’re so mad bc you had expectations for your first kiss and he’s taken that from you--but the thing is,,
- he’s good at it. Like really good at it. Like so good it makes you curious about what he does the nine months of the year he’s not stuck here with you bc there’s no way he hasn’t had practice.
- but you’re also extremely confused and nervous and aware of how stupid you’re being (and a little hormonal bc being 14 isn’t easy) and then he places his hand on your cheek and that snaps some sense of reality into you bc it’s one thing to enjoy the kiss but another thing entirely to want him to escalate it
- so you place one hand on his chest and push him off of you slightly. He takes the hint, pulls away enough to look at you and then you two just stare at each other
- your hand is still on his chest and you have absolutely no idea what comes next, but you find yourself looking at his lips
- since you haven’t slapped him or pulled away more than a few inches he thinks maybe things are okay so he leans forward slightly and kisses you again.
- you reciprocate a little too fast, the kiss lasts two seconds before thinking about how insane you’re being so you push away entirely.
- He lets you go,, and in the most awkward display ever you’re like ‘uh I need to go,, i can’t be late to ball preparation lessons’ and you leave that room faster than you’ve ever left a room in your entire life.
- the next day you consider pretending to be sick to avoid him but that would only give him more power over the situation so you go,, and he’s just sitting there calmly
- youre on edge the entire day but he never even jokes about it
- a part of you is a tiny bit annoyed bc who kisses you and then pretends it never happened? but overall, you’re relieved
- the days pass and it never comes up but now whenever you two argue you think of how quickly kissing him both shut him up and got rid of your tension
- the summer goes by quickly, your usual dynamic has returned and you wonder if he even remembers kissing you. twice. in a row.
- the next couple of years are normal,, even when you two no longer take lessons together you still dont like him. He’s just so assured and he takes such joy in bothering you.
- and then one summer your parents sit you down and they’re like ‘we need to plan the future alliance of our kingdom’
- you’re a little confused bc you’re rarely allowed to sit in on these things bc you’re a girl and you’re basically meant to just be a royal’s bride--and then you realize why you’re there.
- you start protesting before your father can finish announcing your engagement
- the parents were smart bc they announced it at the end of summer so you two couldn’t drive them crazy or conspire
- the first thing you do when you get back to your castle is write to him for the first time ever
- your letter is basically ‘pls tell me you’re doing something’
- the two of you talk until you come up with the plan to get your parents to break up your engagement
- your parents dont really care about your feelings and they expect the two of you to argue with them,, but they care about the kingdoms
- so you two decide that if you act like youre so in love that you let your duties slip the engagement will end,, especially if you two are in love in a toxic way
- so the next summer you two make sure to flirt and act like youre totally obsessed with each other and skip lessons together and just are constantly together and acting like you’re on a honeymoon
- your parents are like ?? since when
- at one point you flirt with a random guard just so Nikolai can have a ‘jealous outburst’ while your families are strolling through the garden
- ngl jealous nikolai had you ready to RISK IT ALL,, you were ready to drop the plan and marry him on the spot
- he notices bc he notices everything about you and when your family walks away he gives you a quick kiss and youre stunned,, much to his delight
- your desire to break up your engagement takes a slight backseat in your mind bc you decide to set off on a secret goal to make him flustered
- it doesn’t take much, your dresses get a little more risky, your comments get a little more suggestive
- the only problem?? he seems to have his own personal goal and it’s to make you even more flustered than he is
- soon the two of you are lost in layers of pretend and competition
- when your parents are finally thinking about delaying the engagement and keeping you two away from each other until you calm down a little (i feel bad for them,, an entire summer of being surrounded by the ULTIMATE sexual tension)
- you’re sad and you don’t know why bc this is what you wanted, but then Nikolai stands up and says that you two planned for this and he has the letters to prove it (he was ready to drop the receipts LMAO) and youre like ??what are you doing?
- and he says he’d rather marry you then never see you again bc now all he wants is to get know you bc he has no idea how he wasted so much time arguing with you
- and you just meltttt but your in front of your entire family and his as well so you just sit there for a minute and then you tell him you feel the same way
- but the summer’s over
- you kiss him before leaving and he says you’ll have to visit bc he can’t go an entire year without seeing your ‘pretty face’
- you promise to visit him soon
- your at home for exactly a day and a half before getting an invitation to visit him
- you laugh bc the only way that letter could get to you that fast is if he mailed it before you even left
- you say yes obviously,, and spend some time having a really cute fall-dating vibes together until you figure out how you really feel
- and you feel like he makes your heart STOP and that’s why you hated him,, bc you didn’t like being vulnerable
playing vices
“A/n a blurb bc ive been working on my novel and ive missed writing for Kirigan :))
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I am a fool that has played into her vices enough to make them addictions. That must have been Kirigan's plan. He knows that I don't agree with his methods. He is also much too aware of the fact that I am beyond attached to him. He plays into that fact often, lulling me to him whenever he feels that my conscious is in danger of driving a wedge between us.
Which is why I have become accustomed to falling asleep while running my fingers along his skin as he whispers things much sweeter than anything he would say while fully awake.
But now it's late and he's not here. I sit up, kicking the comforter off of me slightly. It seems Aleksander has been more and more absent these days. When he's not with me, the odds that he's doing something that hurts people are high. His absence is also starting to make me feel like he's losing interest in me. It would make sense considering the fact that he looked twice at me in any capacity has never seemed logical.
Maybe that's why we've never indicated commitment to each other. I don't know what commitment would be with him. He seems to grand to be considered a 'boyfriend', but there's something more than friendly about how he holds onto me. I've never cared for labels until I started feeling displaced.
"You're still awake."
I press my lips together, trying to seem a little calmer. "Couldn't sleep."
"Troubling thoughts?" The question is more weighted than it should be. Everything with him is.
“Has anyone ever called you dramatic?”
His lips quirk upwards, hinting at a smile. Warmth pools in my stomach, the way it always does when he lets me see the slight glimmer of light that’s still in him. Sometimes I think he only shows me this softness when he feels that I may pull away. It may be rooted in manipulative intent, but I know that it’s real.
“Only you would have the gall,” he says, voice low yet not dark.
Kirigan’s easiness coaxes a smile from my lips. A small one, but I can feel the way the crack in my tension feeds his confidence. He takes pride in slipping past the walls I only try to create when cautious or irritated. Today I’m both but I need to pretend like I’m neither. The more resistance he senses, the more forward and effective his advances become.
I keep my expression neutral. I’m sure Alina could get away with calling him that. I wish she was more unlikable. It would be easier to hide my irritation if I could blame that displaced feeling in my chest on two people. But of course Alina is wonderful, beautiful, and his equal.
Whatever. It’s not like we’re really anything. Every time I see him I wait for his betrayal. There’s nothing worth using me for, and somehow that makes me feel worse. He should have never looked at me twice let alone encourage whatever strange relationship we’ve created.
My silence seems to displease him because he approaches my bedside easily in quick yet patient strides. Now that he’s close enough to touch I feel some of the ice I managed to solidify melt.
Kirigan lifts a hand and places it on my knee easily. I stiffen instinctually, he runs his thumb over my skin to fight my resistance. “Who’s upset you?”
I breathe, forcing myself to ease. “No one has.” I don’t have to meet his gaze to know he doesn’t believe me. That’s the core source of our attachment, we can read each other with less than a look. “I’m just getting a headache,” not a full lie, “I’ll feel better after some sleep.” He squeezes my knee slightly, a soft way of asking me for more. “I don’t think I’ll be good company tonight.”
His hand leaves my knee, fingertips barely grazing my thigh as he moves his hand to hold beneath my chin. I still as he turns my head so that I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to be good company when what I want is your presence.”
I press my lips together to avoid melting into the promising pools of warmth that make up his irises. He spent all day with Alina, took Zoya’s side in an argument I had with her earlier this week, and now he comes to me late at night. He seems to only want to acknowledge me when we’re alone, and it’s not like I want more than that. I just don’t know how long my heart will be able to teeter the line between nothing and something. I’m a fool for having let it go on this long.
The only problem is that his steady stare is chasing away all of my rationality. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone more in the mood to offer their presence.”
My curtness leaves something behind his expression dull, the hint of a smile that was growing on him has now vanished. I am met with a stoic disposition I have never had directed at me.
“They’re not you,” he counters, voice edged by something I don’t understand.
That’s the point. They’re not me--I’m average. I can’t offer power and my relationship experience is basic at best. I don’t want to have this argument, not when I’m basically fighting for him to let me go when that’s not what I want.
I’m making it easier. If it hurts this much when I was only on the cusp of something, imagine the pain I’l feel if I let it continue. I turn my head away so that he’s no longer holding my chin. “Not a bad thing.”
“To me it is.” He doesn’t hesitate, my chest swells. His thumb brushes against my cheek, soft and comforting. “I’m tired,” he says this like it’s a confession. His admission hangs in the air for a long moment, as heavy and weighted as my heart. “If you’re angry, wait until morning.”
Something in my heart cracks. “I’m not angry.” My gaze drops, my thoughts struggling to come together. “I’ll be nicer to deal with in the morning.”
“Y/n,” his tone twists from distant to warning, “the last time you asked me to leave was when you discovered something you didn’t like.”
I almost wince at the way he’s worded it. When I found out what his real plans were, I told myself I had to leave. He skirted past all of my reservations and walls, twisting my doubt away through coddling whispers and shy brushes of fingers.
“This isn’t like that.” Not a lie.
He exhales slowly, the sound dangerously sharp. “Then what is it?”
“Why did you come here so late?” The question leaves me too sharply. I’m exposing too much but I can’t help it. “If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine.” My voice is flat. “I’m sure Alina will be happy to fill me in.” I can’t bring myself to take in his reaction. “And if she can’t, I’m sure Zoya will be able to.”
He’s silent for a long second. “Unwarranted jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
His confidence sparks something angry within me. “I am not jealous.” The most blatant lie of the night, but I don’t care. I turn my head to glare at him, “and don’t just tact on ‘unwarranted’ before something that’s true just because it’s easier for it not to be.”
I watch his expression cautiously until the slightest tilt of his lips adds to my anger. He’s enjoying this or he did this intentionally or both. “Darling,” he hums, voice soft, “you are the only person that makes me feel peace.”
My stomach flutters, the sensation threatening to break my weak resolve. “I am not particularly powerful,” I breathe, voice stiff, “or particularly...” How do I explain this all to him? “Anything.” He’s everything, and I am nothing but average. “I’m average at best, there’s no reason for you to want anything to do with me, and that’s fine--but don’t lie and pretend that that’s not true.”
The sentence is barely out fo my mouth before I feel myself pulled towards him by the collar of my nightgown. His lips are on mine before I can question where this is going. I kiss him back too quickly, but any effort I expend is returned fervently.
He pushes me back slightly as quickly as he yanked me forward. He doesn’t explain. I don’t ask him to. I should demand an answer and shove him away from me or pull him back towards me. But I do nothing. I just stare at him as he stares at me.
When the weight of the silence threatens to break something in me, I force myself to speak, “Kirigan--”
“Aleksander.” The name is soft and so fragile I worry it will shatter in the air before it can fully reach me. “You know there’s much I’m not ready to say, but that,” he exhales, the sound so sad I want to reach for him, “that is the one name I have not given to myself and I want you to have it.” Something conflicted crosses his features. “I would never give that to someone average.”
Emotion swells in my chest, heavy yet not painful. “Aleksander.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to call to him or if I’m just trying to feel his name--his true name--on my lips.
His eyes widen, something unbearable behind them. He moves the hand holding the collar of my nightgown to my cheek. I lean into the contact like a fool as his eyes flutter shut. “Say it again.”
I don’t hesitate, “Aleksander.” I lift my hand, fingers hesitant to find their place on his cheek. “Aleksander.”
He sighs into both the contact and the name. “You’re the first thing I’ve allowed myself to want,” his eyes open, but I cannot bring myself to meet his gaze, “I should make you feel like it.”
Something about the way he says that is sad. “I think that if it’s fair to say you were a little distant, it’s just as fair to say that I was a little jealous.”
Aleksander smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m tired,” he admits, “I’ll enjoy my victory in the morning.”
I roll my eyes, but scoot over to give him a place by my side regardless. “I’m not sure you won, I think it was more of a draw.”
He takes the space I offer quickly, never letting the contact between us disappear as he settles himself against my pillow. I let him pull me towards him. “This feels like a victory.”
I try to ignore the warmth in my chest. “You’re lucky I’m tired enough to find that endearing.”
I relax as his fingers trace shapes I’ll never know about onto my back. “I agree.”
Inbox update
so i wasnt getting any notifications in my inbox for awhile and i thought nothing of it but today i open it and there are so many messages!! like from DAYS ago,, i have no idea what tumblr glitch happened BUT IM SO EXCITED TO ANSWER AHH
Master List
YALLL GUESS WHO FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE A MASTERLIST LMAOO IM SO EXCITED TO POST THIS
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SIX OF CROWS SERIES:
Searing Starlight:
Searing Starlight Chapter 1
Searing Starlight Chapter 2
Searing Starlight Chapter 3
To be continued.
Kaz Brekker:
Blurb series: The Promise of Rain (i define a ‘blurb series’ as a series with shorter chapters where each chapter correlates but can technically be read as a stand alone)
The Promise of Rain (blurb 1)
The Promise of Rain (blurb 2)
The Promise of Rain (blurb 3)
To be continued.
Falling Angels:
Falling Angels Chapter 1
Falling Angels Chapter 2
To be continued.
SHADOW AND BONE:
The Darkling:
Solace (part 1)
Solace (part 2)
To Be Alone (smut)
Solutions
All the Good Dreams (might be getting a part 2)
The Needs of Pain (part 1)
The Needs of Pain (part 2, smut)
Corridor Moments
darkling x shy! reader HC
Comforting the darkling HC
Playing Vices
Nikolai Lantsov:
Tranquility
Handmaid reader x nikolai,, childhood best friends to lovers fic
Enemies to lovers Nikolai HC (im thinking of making a series based on this)
SHADOW AND BONE X SIX OF CROWS:
The Problem With Light Chapter One
To be continued.
RED QUEEN:
Maven Calore:
Dying Starlight
Maybe to be continued??
Anastasia (prologue)
A/n ive been talking about my Anastasia x SOC story for awhile and im finally ready to post the prequel,, ive also been working on some requests and thinking about my next multi-part fic (ive made some posts about it lol)
things to know before reading: i tend to like to make up my own countries when writing these type of politically/plot driven fics that revolve around a royal family bc i think it makes it not only easier to write but less confusing bc it takes out the issue of potentially conflicting with canon, so i made up the country ‘Anastasia’ is from,, this also follows the musical Anastasia a little more bc i feel like that version of the story is more mature and easier to write for SOC (the only difference is that not everyone is happy that Anastasia is alive and someone tries to kill her bc they hate the royal family)
Series Summary: y/n makes an unconventional deal with Kaz to save the life of her best friend. No one’s ever made a deal with the infamous Dirtyhands that resulted in them shedding the title of orphan from a revolution-torn country that can’t remember her life before the orphanage and taking on the title of Princess Anastasia. As time progresses, things are made more complicated as y/n has to deal with royals, revolutionaries, a grisha general who has a lot to gain from an alliance with a princess that doesn’t know what she’s doing, and potential feelings for a conflicted Kaz Brekker that has more to do with Anastasia’s disappearance than he’s ever admitted.
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The world seems to be made up impossible things. Each day, people defy odds, strangers fall in love, the universe expands, and the Saints watch it all. I am not the kind of person to sneer at a miracle, to try to explain it away instead of acknowledging it for what it is.
But what this stranger is proposing is laughable.
I lean more into the chair, doing all I can to get away from the desk that he sits at. A nervous kind of giggle threatens to escape me, a laugh at the expense of the foolishness of the situation. If his demeanor was any less brooding, I would have already laughed at the irony. Kaz Brekker, the Dirtyhands, creating a ploy so colored by the fairytale notions of dreamers.
The longer I go without reacting, the worse this situation becomes. I haven’t seen Verne since Brekker and his people separated us. I can see the world of torment my eldest friend must be experiencing at this very moment while I sit at this desk.
“Me?” I’m the most ridiculous part of his plan. He said the only reason me and my partner are still alive is because I fit the general description of the kind of person he needs, and if I’m blackmailed into it he won’t need to waste kruge paying me. “A princess?”
He blinks, as uninterested and stoic as he’s been since he first ordered me into his office. “A pretend one,” his correction feels like a slight, “a surrogate one.”
My eyebrows furrow together. “But what--I know the odds of the real Anastasia coming back are beyond slim, but if we’re caught in a lie the Dowager Duchess of Avila will have all of us killed. She may be in Ravka now, and her title nothing more than decorative due to the revolution, but she still has people loyal to her.”
“Anastasia can’t come back.” The graveness of his voice is so certain a part of me has to wonder if he could have anything to do with her death. I dismiss the thought almost immediately, I don’t know his exact age, but he doesn’t look much older than me. He couldn’t have been more than two or three years older than Anastasia when she died, and she was a child at the time. “No one remains missing that long unless they’re dead.”
I awkwardly scratch the back of my wrist, “You’re the expert here.” No--I did not just say that out loud. “Sorry--I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Not that thinking it makes it any better, but at least then you wouldn’t know and I’d seem like less of an idiot and I wouldn’t be talking about it right now, and just rambling at a really inconvenient time for me to just...” I cringe slightly, opting to stare at his desk instead of meeting his judgmental gaze. “Sorry, again. Normally Verne is here, and he just kicks me in the shin or something to shut me up.”
“If you’d like to see what apparently is your only source of impulse control alive and in decent enough condition to kick anything ever again, you’ll agree to what I’m proposing.”
I straighten my posture slightly, nerves and guilt twisting in my stomach. “I’m going to be as transparent as physically possible.” The warning is for both of us, the urge to hide all my weaknesses bubbling in my chest. “Mr. Brekker.” That’s awkward--what am I supposed to call him? “I’m a university student that’s only in Ketterdam because of an academic scholarship. I’m from somewhere average--I’m not from a place nice enough to give me the manners I’d need to pass as a girl who spent her fundamental years growing up in luxury and I’m not from a place grimy enough to make me a quick enough liar to make up for what I don’t know.” I inhale slowly, ignoring the sting of the flaws I laid out for a cruel stranger. “I’m not particularly graceful or sly or talented in any field that someone like you would value. The closest thing I have to talent involves things that can be tracked on paper. I wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, I was just doing a friend a favor.”
“You claim that you’re not a decent liar or a thief and yet your closest friend is one who believed himself talented enough to challenge me?”
I resist the urge to shrink back into my seat. “This is Ketterdam, you try finding someone that doesn’t dabble in crime and ambition.” He does’t reply to my retort, which I think means I won. “Cards on the table, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to save Verne, but you don’t want me for something like this.”
He pauses, jaw locked and eyes too stony for me to interpret. “Every flaw you just pointed out, every reason you think makes you unfit for this job, is exactly the reason I’m offering you this.” I keep a thousand questions to myself as I wait for him to continue. “Those used to lying lack the warmth that will be needed to sell this. The Dowager Duchess is a grandmother first when it comes to Anastasia, that’s why she’s offering so much gold. She, and the rest of the royals that desire to know what happened to Anastasia, want to believe the story I’m telling. If you present yourself as someone real and warm and you understand table manners enough to not disturb the serene picture they want, they’ll squint at ugly details until they disappear.”
Wow. I know that he’s intelligent, but what he’s constructing is so much more bullet proof than I thought it’d be. “I’ll admit you’ve constructed an airtight narrative.”
I know my approval means nothing to him, but it’s the most agreeable I’m willing to be. “A narrative the background you told me of fits perfectly.” I shouldn’t have answered all those questions he asked me earlier so honestly. “A child born in Avila who was sent to a Kerch orphanage due to a war-relief effort during the revolution. A faceless orphan who was found during the height of the revolution with no memory of anything before the morning she woke up in a hospital cot.”
I say nothing. My skin burns in protest of someone knowing so much about me. He must take my silence as a sign of me teetering the line away from what he wants, because he then says, “your friend is fortunate, if things aligned a little less perfectly he’d be dead already.”
Dead already. The words elate my heart in a way that pinches. He’s still alive. Verne is alive. “If I agree, you let me see him and then you let him go.”
“If you need a contract to believe me, I can have that arranged.” The words have an almost mocking edge. I guess it’d be a little ridiculous to get an official contract drawn up for something so small. “If you at any point change your mind, I’ll do the same.”
The threat is clear. I back out and Verne pays for it in blood. Verne’s safety is once again in my hand. This situation is much more precarious than Kaz Brekker wants it to seem. “You need me to do something that will literally last the rest of my life. Tiaras aren’t something you can slip in and out of.”
“Yes, I’m forcing you to give up a life in the slums for a palace for your friend’s life. This must be a difficult choice for you.”
I look down to avoid rolling my eyes. “It’s still permanent, and it’s large because at any point I could reveal the truth and take you down with me.”
“Remember who you speak to.” His voice has turned to pure darkness.
Don’t wince. Don’t wince. Don’t wince. “All I’m saying is that you’ve offered Verne’s life to buy my cooperation, but you have yet to mention the cost of my silence.”
His expression is sharp enough to draw blood. “The Dowager Duchess is old and sick, wait at most two years and you’ll have more gold than you could ever spend. The revolution took that family’s power, not the wealth the Duchess took with her to Ravka the night of the massacre.”
I shift awkwardly. “I’m not trying to get kruge from you for me.” I fold my hands neatly on my lap to avoid fidgeting. “Verne--he’s beyond desperate for kruge, that’s why he risked angering you.” The urge to shy away threatens to break my resolve. I think of all the times Verne has saved me. “Let him keep what he tried to take.” The request is awkward from my lips. I’m asking for more when I should should be grateful any type of mercy came from him. Any type of offer. “Half. Let him keep half.”
He’s silent for a long moment, weighing the implications of loss. “You’re already entitled enough to pass for royalty.” I don’t let myself shrink. “Deal, but not because you threatened me--try that again and you’ll find yourself wishing you had never left the orphanage you came from.” The relief is practically crushing. Verne is going to be okay. He’s going to live and my resistance earned him enough kruge to have a week or two without worry as he plans what he’ll do in my absence. “You better be as good a study as you made yourself seem to be.”
I don’t understand the second threat. “Studying?”
“You didn’t think you could wander into the Dowager Duchess’s home, use the excuse of amnesia to explain why you don’t even know your own mother’s name, and expect them to think you more than an Avilan orphan with a desire for wealth.”
“I actually don’t know my own mother’s name because of amnesia.”
He’s in no mood to be contradicted, glowering sharply, “not anymore, anything that doesn’t fit the narrative I’m constructing is no longer true.” He straightens slightly as he begins to pace away from me. “You’ll have five minutes with your friend and then we’ll see where your table manners are at. I know someone who knows enough to correct you.”
I try to picture where someone like him would meet someone that knows about etiquette. My mind provides nothing useful, but it doesn’t matter--I’ve agreed. It can’t be undone, not without having the blood of my dearest friend on my hands.
Hi! I have been having an off day I’m kinda exhausted and anxious slightly snappy haha. I was wondering how would the darkling react to an anxious reader that he cares about. 😊
a/n ive been a little MIA but im working i promise!! i felt really apathetic about writing for awhile bc of some personal stuff but ive been trying to get back into it bc im genuinely happier when i write :)
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- ok so i think how he reacts to an anxious person that he cares about depends on where you're at in the relationship,, which might be kinda a 'duh' but it needs to be said for how im setting this up lol
- bc if he's kinda just starting to figure out his feelings, i think he'd be so surprised by how much he cares that he has to hold back his immediate reactions, bc he may have his faults but he's def protective once he realizes something is affecting/hurting the person he sees as the sun
- that protectiveness stems from wanting to be what makes you happy, he wants to feel like he's your shelter so that he feels like he's good enough for you. He wants you to be happy so he can feel your warmth but he also really wants the redemptive feeling that comes from knowing that he's your protector in a way.
- he wants to protect and make you happy so bad, sometimes you need to be like 'umm...i really appreciate that you want to torture the person that bumped into me a little too hard on a bad day,, but maybe let's not??' especially if you are still in that phase where he kinda scares/intimidates you bc you know him more as the General
- not only are his more over the top reactions a little scary bc you don't want to offend him by not wanting to talk about it to avoid blowing the situation up,, they're also confusing
- bc you had no idea he cared if you lived or died let alone cared if you were nervous or not?? but sometimes it makes you feel really comforted, bc if someone as hardened as the darkling can care that much about how youre feeling than you can't be as awful as you're feeling
- and it's also comforting bc he's clearly strong and powerful and when he puts a hand on your shoulder and stares at you like you're the only tangible thing in the world and telling you that he's not going to let anything happen to you,, the rational part of your anxiety is appeased to say the least.
- alright but that's at like the first stage of the relationship for him, bc i feel like he def has like twenty stages he goes through before finally being in a committed relationship bc even though he wants an attachment and love so badly bc he hates his eternal loneliness, he has a lot of layers to work through before he feels secure enough in you as a person to risk vulnerability
- so if he's at the point where he's accepted what he feels for you,, but has yet to really act on it, this is where he starts to give himself away a little
- like you'll mention being stressed about training in the Little Palace, or not getting along with someone and he immediately jumps to encouraging you. It's kinda funny bc at first he seems like he's just trying to be a supportive pal bc at this point ur sorta friendly (at least more friendly than anyone else is with the darkling) but then he kinda losses himself in talking about how amazing you are.
- and if youre feeling anxiety/bad bc of someone in particular, you better not mention their name unless you're 100 percent sure you're furious at them.
- sometimes it causes some strain bc you don't necessarily want him to get involved, and he's not above lowkey guilting you into telling him the full story, but it's not really intentional. He just starts talking about how much trust he puts in you and you just let the little things go after making him promise to leave things alone.
- if your anxiety is general,, or just bc of a. bunch of little things and he's at a point in which he's accepted how much he cares about you but has not told you yet,, he'll try to hide how soft he feels, but sometimes he slips up.
- honestly, i wouldn't be surprised if a really big relationship milestone came from that.
- like you crying one night and the darkling finding you, and then him taking you back to your room and promising to stay so that you don't have to feel alone and then the next morning you wake up and he's holding you
- at first ur like ?? but he acts so normal you're like maybe that can be platonic? but then it starts happening more and more and neither of you mention it and then when you two finally do get together youre like 'ohh? im stupid'
- and if your anxiety comes from your worry about him?? wow--he'll have to stop himself from kissing you
- this is a man who is so used to being hated/feared that the concept of someone worrying about him so much they physically don't feel well?? that would hit him STRAIGHT in the chest, and he'd be so quick to pull you to him, and then you'd be like--are you ok??
- wouldn't be surprised if that's how you found out he had feelings for you,, like he'd say something like "i didnt know the brightest star in the sky could want to protect the darkness instead of banish it. You're the brightest light I've ever known, it was more than enough for me that you weren't repulsed by my darkness...and now..."
- anyways,, if you were already established together and you were anxious, he would have no need to hold back
- if he notices your hesitant to let him 'help' he might do a thing or two to reduce sources of your stress without telling you...which sometimes leads to you getting a little mad, but depending on how extreme his actions were, he normally smoothes it over quickly
- i mean,, it's just how he shows that he cares, he's never had someone that could snap their fingers and get rid of his adversaries or reschedule a thing or two to make his life easier
- he sees no harm in it,, and even though sometimes other people may give you a bit of a hard time bc of his evident favoritism,, you know it just means he cares
- if he goes really far, you're more willing to be mad at him, but honestly when youre upset all you want is to be near him bc there's nothing more comforting,, so you agree to hold off on arguing lol
- i mean there are always lines that get crossed, so there are times he cant charm himself out of your anger, but the longer youre together the more he tries to hold off on doing things that make you really angry,, unless he feels like the person really hurt you, then nothing can stop his anger
- if youre actually together he's much more quick to comfort you physically if youre feeling really anxious,, he'll kiss you everywhere until he's all you can think about, which works for when your anxious over small things
- if your problem is larger, he cant exactly kiss it away though i cant say that doesnt help but it's still comforting and relaxing bc duh,, so i feel like he's really touchy if youre upset
- kissing sometimes leads to other stuff,, but that should be its own fic/headcanon bc i have a secret head cannon that feeling needed or like the only one his partner has is a turn on for him bc it returns some of the power he feels like he gives up by letting his partner care about him
- might have to write that fic now that im thinking about it....
- if youre so anxious you dont want to be touched, it'll be a little harder for him, but if he reaches for you and you back away he'll try to talk you down and remind you that he's not going to let anything happen and as long as he's breathing he'll make sure you're okay
- if youre officially together and youre anxious about something small, he's actually surprisingly nice to talk to,, before you were close you felt like you were bothering him with small, insignificant things,, but once you know that he cares about you he's a patient listener bc he likes being really present with you when he can bc he's busy so often
- sometimes if youre worried or upset he jumps to anger towards the object of your distress before comfort, but once youre at the dating part, you know that that's just how he is, and anger is how he shows love in a way?? lol, so you just have to clearly tell him that you'd rather him stay with you then rush out and like smite someone, he'll stop and comfort you
- sometimes how much he cares makes him angry at himself bc he begins to question if he'd pick you/your happiness over his goal, if he can't convince himself that you'd never get in the way of that, he gets a little cold until he feels assured in his loyalties or at least assured in the fact that your happiness would never conflict with his goals
- that can happen at any point in your relationship,, i feel like it'd happen more when he's unsure about his feelings bc seeing how much he cares about someone that's nothing to him makes him want to banish his nerves
- overall though,, once he cares about you, whether he's fully accepted it or not, he'd burn the world down to make you feel okay again,, or stay in bed with you for awhile, or both--whatever you want, really
Crossing lines
General Kirigan/the darkling x reader
Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha
a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!!
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Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread.
But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing.
Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly.
General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed.
The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds.
I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way.
When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night?
I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark.
I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan.
Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer.
I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.
“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty.
I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.
“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.”
I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.”
He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.”
And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”
Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.”
I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down.
I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”
He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.”
There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting.
“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit.
Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?”
The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.”
He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?”
The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.”
I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.”
That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.
I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?”
“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”
This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.”
“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips.
The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.”
At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.
“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second.
“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?”
There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.”
“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.
There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?”
He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.”
“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.”
My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.”
I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t.
Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone.
“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways.
He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.”
Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place.
Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more.
“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.”
He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.”
“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.”
The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.
He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me.
“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches.
His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.”
“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.”
If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.”
“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.”
...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.”
“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.”
His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him.
The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact.
“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.”
I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not.
He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…”
“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?”
His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.”
“More than I should?”
Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.”
His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?”
There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”
“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.”
“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.”
“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?”
Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”
“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.”
“I don’t understand.”
He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?”
Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”
“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.”
Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--”
His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.”
Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.”
“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.”
“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.”
He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.”
This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh.
“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.”
My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown.
Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.”
“Kirigan--”
“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.”
His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear.
“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it.
He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before.
I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”
He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.”
His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”
“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”
When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine.
“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.”
Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip.
One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.”
A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly.
“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more.
Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.”
Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.”
No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise.
“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.”
“I’ll tell the others, General.”
Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived.
“I have to go.”
Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.
He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.”
Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--”
“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.”
This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?”
“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.”
My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible.
He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is.
“Soon,” he promises again.
--
General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33
hiii, this might seem weird but do u have any head cannons for when the reader is pregnant and how the Darkling would react?
a/n love this concept,, it's not weird at all!! i feel like there's so much here!! also i leave for college this month and im lowkey starting to freak out so ive been watching star wars movies for comfort 😭and now i have half a mind to write for them, especially the prequels (cough, cough,, anakin) 😭 😭 that should tell you where i am mentally
anyways lets get into the headcanons:))
--
- okay so like most of my headcanons, this is probably going to be all over the place bc i feel like so many different things could change how he would react. Like if the darkling x reader have been trying to get pregnant, or an unplanned pregnancy with someone he really likes, i also think whether or not the reader is a grisha affects his reaction too
- in general though, i think he'd lowkey have a breeding kink he'd def find something about the thought of you having his child really attractive bc for one thing, he wouldn't have to worry about being left alone and now he has an excuse to be a real 'protector'.
- also if youve read my other headcanons i am 100000% convinced that he has this thing where if he really likes someone he needs them to need him (let's all remember the whole 'i will strip you of everything you know and love speech until I'm your only shelter' speech he gave to Alina)
- also i kinda want to write a fic or blurb series or something that's just the darkling being super toxic in super thoughtful ways LMAO if that makes sense, like he's being super sweet but it's to make sure the reader is dependent on him
- and he def wants to be the protector to give himself some sense of assurance bc he's so desperate to not be alone anymore and bc the reader is the only person he has/loves, he wants to feel in control and like he's the less attached one
- okay,, let's get back to the pregnancy thing, anyways, your pregnancy is most definitely activating all of those senses and this was meant to be a sub plot but it kind of became it's own thing lol
- so lets get to the actual pregnancy reaction
if you two have been trying to get pregnant:
- when you tell him, he kind of like, pauses bc it's not every day that he gets surprised so it takes him a moment to register that he's experiencing shock lol, so he tenses and goes islent
- and then after he realizes that he's surprised and that it's bc of a good thing, he manages to relax
- meanwhile you're kind of freaking out bc he got so quiet?? you start to wonder if he's regretting ever wanting a child with you? and you're like two seconds away from a downspiral and then he...
- he touches your cheek and looks at you in a way you've never seen him look at anyone,, not even you
- the look is so warm and strong and full of fierce admiration that you feel foolish for ever thinking he didn't want this. And then he says something about how you're carrying his child and how he didn't realize he could adore you more and then he kisses you and it's all :)) warm:)
- he doesn't want anyone to know that he's expecting a child as long as possible bc of how many enemies he has and how he has to worry about you enough when people just know that you're his 'lover' (a title you never really liked, but one he tells you is necessary to make sure no one realizes the extent of his attachment)
- if you really want to tell your mother or someone of that relation, he won't be mad about it, but he just needs to know
- Genya is the only exception bc the darkling basically instructs her to look out for you,, but when you tell her she's like oh?? you guys just found out?
- miss girl most definitely noticed like a day and a half ago after you cried bc she couldn't find you ice cream the other night 😭and she just assumed you knew but weren't ready to tell anyone
- okay so this what i think is his most problematic expecting father trait would be. So i just ranted about how important secrecy would be to him but he's also the most overprotective person in the entire world,, like he was bad before but once he knows your with child?? yeah, if a man asks you about the weather, he's done for
- he's next to you in a second, ordering either you or the man to do some asinine task
- if you get mad about this (rightfully so) or even just point out how nothing is wrong and you having a casual conversation with a man who isn't even looking at you sexually won't hurt you or the baby, he'll lose rationality
- it depends on how much you push, but it'd be super easy to make him super possessive bc like i said, being bonded by a child has made him so much more intense (and he was pretty intense before)
- and if you push too much he'll lowkey forget about how cautious he's trying to be with you and pin you against the nearest wall and say something along the lines of 'are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it.' (AH--i want to write a whole fic based on this line)
- also if the reader is grisha, especially if she's a sun summoner/special grisha like him, he def talks about the power that they've created and how proud he already is and how he can't wait to train together and be the most powerful family in the world
- not everything is perfectly happy though, bc now he feels more pressure to complete his plan and establish the world he wants his child to be born into
- so sometimes when he's working extra hard or is extra aggressive for no reason, you have to work at calming him down and reminding him that the best thing he can do for his child is be there for them (and the child's mother,, lol)
- sometimes he'll respond by actually listening to you and trying to make up for his absence or his aggression by being extra soft until you finally forgive him
- you never last that long, it's hard to be mad at him when he's coddling you and whispering such sweet things about he's so happy to have you and your future child
- overall, his first reaction is to swell with emotion, which he isn't used to, and so he becomes super protective but also extra lovey and you know that his overreactions are just him trying to show that he cares about you and your future child more than anything
If the pregnancy was unplanned:
- the initial reaction is pretty similar, only his state of shock lasts longer
- like i said at the beginning, he's not used to being surprised and an accidental pregnancy is so much more surprising than a planned pregnancy
- this really sucks for you bc he's not exactly known for his patience so you just kinda sit there and genuinely wonder if you're going to be a single mom or if you're going to want to deletus the fetus or something
- but then he takes a step towards you and you see how he's looking at you and you just know that that fierceness has to mean something good
- and at this point you're scared and nervous and feel so alone so tears are pricking at your eyes,, so he wipes his thumb across your cheek to wipe away tears you won't let spill
- he then whispers something really sweet about how you two are now together forever, as you should be
- it's really relieving bc you felt so alone and uncertain and he's such a smooth speaker that by the end of the night, you feel like this is a good thing
- if youre still hesitant/weighing your options, he's not above trying to (gently) manipulate you into thinking that what he wants may be the only way
- by that,, i don't mean outright tricking you bc he means everything he says, but he def is pushing the keeping the baby agenda,, especially if you're a grisha,, and even more so if you're a grisha with similar power levels to him
- he won't get angry at first bc he's not so out of touch that he's unaware of how shocking a pregnancy is to a woman who wasn't planning one,, but his patience is limited and if you fight it too much he will get mad and yell
- but unless you really don't want to have a child, it won't get to that bc he makes the idea of having a baby with him sound so perfect?? like you genuinely don't understand how he did that
- he chases away all of your worries and assures you that youre not alone and that even though it isn't planned he wouldn't rather anyone else carry his child
- the initial conversation would probably end in you two sleeping together again bc he finds the fact that you're carrying his child so attractive and bc being aware of the pregnancy makes him more possessive
- it's also a good way to fight any of your doubts
- speaking of being possessive though,, i feel like he could be a little more possessive/protective of a reader who didn't plan on getting pregnant bc your relationship has been less established
- no one sees you as anything to him and he doesn't want to start rumors now bc it's important to him that his enemies don't find out about you or his future child so he doesn't want that to change
- but he almost forgets about all of those reasons each time he sees a man get a little too close,, especially if that guy is flirty
- it takes all of his will power to not just go 'she's mine and if i wasn't worried about the stress that witnessing something violent would cause our unborn child, you'd be dead already, but if you're not gone by the time i turn around, i'll forget about caution'
- lots of close calls ngl!! at one point youre like 'if it bothers you so much, maybe you should tell someone??' and he's like 'no,, maybe,, shut up' and then you raise one eyebrow and he just closes his mouth and is like 'i mean,, i'll kiss you to shut you up, haha--dont be mad'
- youre the one that's pregnant but sometimes you think he might be the one experiencing the mood swings i swear 😭
- so your little theory gets tested,, he's not the type to gossip with his besties and be like 'guess who's officially my girlfriend, i knocked her up but it's not like it sounds--'
- so he's like ig you can tell genya
- once again genya is like ?? yall thought you were keeping that secret? couldn't be me
- but having it a little out in the open helps ease him just enough that youre actually capable of consoling him when he becomes jealous
- still though,, he's quick to go into possessive/pregnancy kink sex
- youre most def not mad about it,, unless pregnancy has you particularly sore
- he's normally pretty understanding about that and def doesn't mind pulling his weight in the bedroom when he needs
- honestly he'd be really good at being a source of calmness at the beginning, but as time goes on he becomes more and more worried about finishing his plans bc he didn't expect to have a child right now
- so he'd be more adamant about working/becoming more tense and would be more difficult to console if it was an accidental pregnancy
- when you call him out on it--or on anything while your pregnant--it's frustrating for you both bc the number one thing everyone knows is stress is bad for baby, so he's trying to keep you calm without backing down
- these argument always end with one of you clinging to the other,, and then the more angrier of the two just like shuts up, rolls their eyes, and lets go of the argument...at least for now
- the main difference between an accidental and intentional pregnancy would probably be how you perceive him,, bc an intentional pregnancy means youve talked about things but since you havent talked about anything your shocked about how soft he becomes ??
Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?
it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol
also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!
also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see
--
They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.
But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.
The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.
You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.
I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.
"Oh, you're doing that thing."
I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"
"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."
I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."
"Clearly."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."
Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"
At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"
"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."
Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"
"That doesn't mea--"
"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"
"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.
Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.
I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.
It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.
The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.
"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."
"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"
"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."
Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."
"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"
Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."
"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"
"He just wanted to sell our cove--"
"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."
Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.
"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"
"I resent that--"
"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."
I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."
"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."
"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."
"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."
He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."
...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."
Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."
"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"
He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."
Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.
Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.
--
I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.
How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.
I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?
Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.
Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.
How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?
I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.
I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.
I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.
The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”
My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.
Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”
The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”
His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”
I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”
A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”
I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”
Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.
My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.
“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.
This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”
Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”
My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.
I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”
Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”
No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”
How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.
“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”
“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”
“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”
“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”
His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”
...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.
Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”
Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.
I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.
“You’re falling asleep.”
I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.
“You’re impossible.”
From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”
From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”
Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”
The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”
This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”
At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”
Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”
“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”
Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”
“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”
I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”
“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.
We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”
He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”
At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”
“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.
I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”
"(AH–i want to write a whole fic based on this line)" PLEASE DO??? omg i don't even have a breeding/possessiveness kink but i've been so hooked with that part, your mind>>>
a/n hehhe she's back from the dead (or is she?? lmao may disappear again right after posting? who knows, i def don't,, ive been writing i promise! i just get in my head and feel like my writing is bad and just dont finish anything lmao...if yall could see my drafts,, very full
oh!! also this anon is referencing a headcanon about pregnant with the darkling's baby (this post ),, more specifically this ask is about this line: "'are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it."
also i feel the need to tell yall!! i dont have a breeding kink 👀or possessiveness kink--i mean who could--i--👀👀
anyways HAHA
Air as weighted as a bag of sand enters and exits my lungs with each of my uneven breaths. Relax...stress is the one thing everyone agrees I shouldn't experience. Not while I'm like this. At the reminder of why everything seems so precarious, my hand gravitates to the source of my complications. I rest my palm against my stomach, still unaccustomed to the hint of firmness that makes up the apex of my stomach. I'm not sure it'd be fair to call it a bump yet. It's just the slightest shift in my proportions, the prelude to an announcement that not even Genya could help me hide.
But for now, it's still relatively easy to keep what I now am private. Aleksander likes it that way, and I understand his reasons for keeping my pregnancy secret enough to be relatively indifferent to when the news comes out. Though on nights like these, I just want to rip off the corset Genya tightens around my torso each morning and tighten my loose dress. Let the entire world know that I'm pregnant--that I'm not without attachment.
Maybe that would be enough to prevent arguments like these. The silent types of fights seem to be the most brutal. The fights in which his mere presence is more violent than words ever could be. These fights have become rarer since I told him about my current condition, but there's one thing that no amount of understanding will ever rid him of. The type of jealousy born of a relationship meant to only exist behind closed door and in abandoned corridors.
"Darling." The quietness of his voice is severe enough to send a bolt of nerves straight through me. He'd never hurt me--with or without his child, I know that he'd never cause me physical harm. It's just his anger is so consuming, so unavoidable and draining. "Do not make this worse for yourself by attempting to delay the inevitable." He takes a step forward, allowing me to see his expression for the first time since he first wrapped long fingers around my forearm, pulling me away from someone who meant no harm. His expression is harsh, made of the shadows he controls. "You know what you did."
I swallow, letting my hand fall from my stomach. Different responses rise and die in the back of my throat. None of them seem like they'd diffuse the situation. I didn't do anything--that could either make him angrier at me or angrier at the poor guard that had been speaking to me. Nothing happened, is worse, and you're overreacting could be fatal. Besides...none of it feels as true as it should. Though everything I did was innocent in theory, I can't deny the fact that I had been irritated. I had...I'd felt forgotten, and with how busy Aleks has been, I couldn't think of a good way to do anything about it.
And then today, while I was feeling displaced and hormonal, and tired of being left behind...so I let myself entertain the idea of welcoming someone else's attention. It was nothing bad, no blatant flirting or forced laughter. Just the slight prolonging of a conversation. If the man escorting me had not noticed me trip...if he hadn't helped me regain my balance by placing a supportive hand on my waist, so close to Aleksander's child, I think I would have been able to ease him by being extra affectionate and feigning the need for a nap. If he had kept pushing, I would have made a joke about 'pregnancy brain' and then shifted the conversation to the discussion of our future. I'd have turned this into the conversation about baby names and how we'd turn the room that adjoined ours--the room that used be mine--into a nursery.
But I had stumbled in the garden, and one of the two guards required to walk with me when I want fresh air had saved from falling at the exact moment that Aleksander decided to look for me.
"I told you, I tripped and the guard did what you want them to do, he helped--"
"Do not speak of him." My mouth shuts, my lips pressing together into a cautious line. "Don't pretend that all you did was trip. I saw you two, you laughed with him." He crosses the distance he put between us, as in control as ever. A small part of me is shocked when the hand that comes to rest on my waist doesn't burn. "You let him touch you." Each syllable is punctuated, acidic. His fingers graze across the fabric of my dress before he spreads his palm across my stomach. "...You let him touch my child." All semblance of security evaporates from me for a brief moment, but dread does not take over. No, something sharp wedges itself between me and fear and it leaves my entire body hot. Hot in a way I haven't felt since the night I told him about what we created together. "Our child," he continues, moving his hand across the expanse of my stomach until he reaches its apex, "you'd think with a life we made growing inside you..." His other hand sneaks onto the small of my back, with the slightest bit of pressure, he pushes me forward, "You'd remember."
Swallowing back nerves, I force myself to not shrivel beneath his gaze. "Remember what?"
His hand trails up my back until he reaches my shoulder. I relax when he gives it a tentative squeeze, but then he allows his fingertips to trail across my collarbone and up my neck. A hint of warmth adds something behind his eyes, something secretly vulnerable. I exhale, relaxing into the path he's drawing across my skin as his thumb brushes my cheek. I exhale at the contact, a small part of me wondering what's eased him so. He's more nervous about his place in my life than I can understand; he's everything--powerful, attractive, caring in a silent way. And he's the one who keeps leaving earlier in the morning and disappearing until he comes back to me late at night.
I thought that the conversation we had after my pregnancy, the guarantee he gave me in a place by his side, we'd see each other more. But he's been so absent I can't help but feel that maybe he's starting to regret it. After all, he's talked so much of forever, of our family...and yet he brings up marriage only when it's convenient--
The firm squeeze against my jaw steals all of my thoughts. He tilts my head upwards, leaning so close to me that I can feel his breath on my against my skin. "You are mine in all ways."
Warmth spreads through me, more powerful than my nerves. And yet I can't loose myself in him the way my body yearns to. You are mine in all ways. His control is more absolute than anything. That's never bothered me before, never made me doubt...Why does it feel tainted now? Is it my hormones? Or--it's the way he's changed.
He notices, because he notices everything about me. "Something troubling you more than the trouble you're already in?"
The question isn't concern--it's an attempt to have all of my attention again. I tilt my head down as much as the grip on his hand will allow. "Yours in all ways, when you're not mine?" My voice comes out softer than I'd like, but at least the words are out. "I know what you're doing is important, but there's just so many people around you. All powerful and important and I..." My hand settles over my stomach, too aware of how permanent the situation I'm in us. "I'm just going to get bigger...and bigger...and more draining to be around, and you'll always have an excuse to disappear."
Aleksander frowns, face shifting from angry to something soft. It doesn't last. He lips tilt upwards, a malicious smile playing at his lips. "Dove, was this all a cry for attention?" An artificial sweetness poisons the air between us. He tilts my head upwards even more, forcing me to stare at him. "Foolish, foolish girl. You need me, don't you?" He pauses, looking at me like I'm something to be pitied. It might be the look behind his eyes or my tiredness, but I nod. "I stop doting on you for a moment so that I can prepare for our future--the future of our baby--and you manage to forget that you've captured every part of me--the good and the bad." Something in me eases at the reassurance. They're just words, and I know how little that means to him, but they help. "Trust me this once, and I will spend eternity proving you right for it."
I exhale, absorbing the tenderness he briefly offers. "I do." He's watching me carefully. "I will--I just think I'm hormonal, or something."
He hums once, pulling me even closer to him. "That's all you have to say?" Aleksander's breath is warm against already flushed skin. "You know I've been particularly patient given what you're doing for me, but you know what you did. You felt like i was losing my care for you, and so you decided to anger me--and now you'll have to deal with that." I feel myself frown. "Don't pout--you brought this onto yourself." He sighs. "Open." I know better than to push any further. My lips part on instinct. He maneuvers his hand so that he can press his thumb into my mouth. "Close." I shut my mouth, letting the tip of my tongue graze the pad of his finger. He pulls his hand away with no warning, letting a thin trail of saliva connecting his thumb and my bottom lip. "Good girl, I knew you still knew how to behave."
"I didn't--"
"Don't speak," he warns, voice dangerous again. "Are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it."
I inhale sharply, nerves pulsing through me once again. My silence seems to appease him, because Aleksander closes the distance between us. The hunger in him is clear, the kiss consuming everything as he walks us back, forcing me against a wall. He pulls away much too soon and yet much too fast. I'm panting, my lips are swollen, and yet all I want is more. "Aleksander--"
"How naive could you be, thinking I'd want you less like this...my baby, our child in you?" I swallow, nerves pooling in my stomach. "How could you think I'd want you less when the evidence of the fact that I fucked a baby into you is impossible to hide? When it becomes impossible to deny that you are mine and I am yours?"
His hand tangles itself into the root of my hair, when he pulls on it I can't fight the noise that escapes me. His lips are against my jaw, moving down my neck at a pace that's unbearable. He continues like this until all of me is burning for him and I no longer have the energy to attempt to suppress the moans leaving my lips. Aleksander lifts his head, a hint of something genuine coloring his smile. His lips press against mine again. I loose myself in his lips, the feel of them, his warmth, the way he knows where to brush his tongue. His pace is agonizing. Something in me snaps, I reach forward in a lust-filled haze, pulling at his clothes.
"Aleksander."
His hand leaves my neck in favor of gripping my wrist. He then straightens entirely, moving me off of him with a graceful ease. "Oh, Dove, you didn't think I'd be able to give you what you want after the way you've behaved today."
No. No. He's not implying what I think he is, he couldn't be this cruel to me...this upset. "I'll never do it again." He tsks once, shaking his head at my desperation. "I'm sorry, I truly am...and I'd be happy to show you how apologetic--"
He cuts me off my squeezing the apple of my cheek. "As amusing and fulfilling as it would be to watch you try to seduce me, it'd do me no well to spoil you now, especially when I have a meeting."
"Please--"
He takes my hand, tenderly pressing his lips against the back of my palm, over and over again until I am lost to the sensation. My breath hitches. "Consider this the first part of your lesson on patience." A pathetic, practically teary moan escapes me. He flips my palm in his hands before taking my middle and index finger into his mouth. The sensation and the way he's looking at me is so erotic my head is left spinning. He pulls my fingers away from his parted lips slowly, letting his tongue slide the length of them. "And no touching yourself--I will be checking when I return."
He can't leave my like this. Desperate and needy and likely without release for hours. "Aleks, please--"
"The more you beg, the more I know you need this." The cold way he releases my arm leaves my eyes stinging. He turns as if nothing has happened, leaving before I can think of anything worth saying.
A Knife in the Back
A/N felt like coming back to writing here now that it’s summer and i’m working on rediscovering myself in order to deal with some mental health stuff. What’s a better thing to come back with than my roots?
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader
Background: This is very much inspired by the main relationship dynamic in the Hulu show ‘The Great’ (if you haven’t watched it and have a hulu subscription and are old enough I’d def recommend it). Basically this is just playing into the ‘i love you, but i’m supposed to want to kill you’ trope. Also inspired by Taylor Swift’s ‘My Tears Ricochet’ (i’m obsessed with the line ‘you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same’)
Summary: Y/n has been groomed her entire life to take over as head of a major gang. Recently, she’s been working with the Crows. Tonight, though, she’s being put to the ultimate test of loyalty. No longer is this a game of cat and unaware mouse, because now she’s supposed to kill Kaz Brekker.
this ends on a cliffhanger bc i wanted to do a two-part thing, so let me know if you’d be interested in that or want to be tagged :))
I was first exposed to the concept of taking someone’s life when I was about seven. I don’t remember what happened, but I remember that Cassandra hadn’t meant for me to find out about it. She didn’t take any care to keep it from me, but she didn’t exactly want me walking into her office after she slit the throat of the merchant that tried taking advantage of her.
She had blinked at me, then, before telling me that forcing death was just a part of life. She didn’t react when I ran out into the hall to throw up after the man’s blood soaked into my socks. She rubbed my back gently and told me that soon I’d learn how to kill efficiently so that I wouldn’t have to stomach much.
I was ten when Cassandra made good on that promise. I still remember the day she taught me how to kill with calculation. We spent the day together, plunging blades into foam mannequins. She presented me with my first dagger that day.
That was years ago, and somehow, by some kind of miracle, I had avoided ever having to kill someone. Cassandra raised me, meaning that there’s always been someone else around to do the dirty work. Either Cassandra would do the ugly part of a job for me or one of her upper ranking underlings would be around in order to spare me.
But today is the day where all of that changes. Not only do I have to kill someone, but I have to kill Kaz Brekker. The pit in my stomach should only exist because of my fear of retaliation. I should only be concerned about what the Bastard of the Barrel will do if he realizes my betrayal, but that’s not why I’ve felt sick all day.
When I first started playing double agent, I didn’t think it’d end like this for so many reasons. Cassandra never told me that her overall goal was to have Kaz Brekker killed. I also really, really didn’t expect to see Kaz as a person, let alone...
I don’t even know. I just--I hated him. I was supposed to hate him and being exposed to his cruelty and lack of regard for life made it easy. And then--then one day it started to seem like maybe he isn’t made of darkness. Maybe he’s only touched by it, maybe he only wears it because he needs to. Maybe he’s more like Cassandra than I was supposed to realize.
“You alright, dovey?”
I should roll my eyes at Jesper’s question and relax into my seat. I should act normal so that no one will suspect anything of me. All I can manage to do is slump into my seat. “A bit of a headache,” I mumble, “You know it happens from time to time.” My dagger is sheathed beneath layers of fabric but somehow I still feel the coldness of the metal. It forces a chill through me. “And don’t call me ‘Dovey’, we’ve talked about nicknames.”
Jesper lets his head fall to the side dramatically. My eyes move to the glass in his hand. The amber liquid sloshes with Jesper’s movements. “You’re no fun when you’re in a mood.” I open my mouth to comment on how dramatic he’s being and the fact that I’m feeling perfectly fine, but he beats me to it. “Then again, with what boss-man said, I’d be in a mood, too.”
What--what Kaz said? “With what who said?”
Sobriety attempts to grasp Jesper, but he quickly dodges it. His eyes briefly shut as he takes a sharp inhale. “You don’t know.”
Something in my stomach knots. Did Kaz find out who I am? “Know what?” He brings a finger up to his lips, signaling that it’s a secret. “Jesper.”
“Y/n,” he copies the sharpness of my tone. I continue to glare at him. “C’mon, don’t put me in this position, today’s been hard enough. Our job went off without an issue, don’t drag--” I don’t stop glowering. “Y/n--” He sighs once. “Fine--I don’t--I didn’t hear much, just that your name--” Jesper pauses, struggling to arrange his sentence. “Your name came up during a deal. I couldn’t quite hear everything.”
“Well, what did you hear?”
Jesper hesitates again, eyebrows pinching together in an unsettlingly pitiful way. “Some kind of contingency thing--something that would’ve--would’ve given the other man the rights to you.”
Something in me bursts into flame. The ice of the knife strapped to my skin is suddenly welcome. An old instinct in my chest understands the meaning of Jesper’s slurred words before the rest of me does. “The rights to me?”
Jesper shifts uneasily. “If your headache’s not going away, maybe you should just have a drink for your nerves and go to bed.” I don’t move.
“How can someone have ‘the rights’ to me? I’m not indentured--”
“Kaz knows how to run with an assumption when it’s convenient.”
Something in my chest turns to stone. Jesper’s drunken testimony has left gaps in the story, but it’s not exactly hard to fill in. For whatever reason, Kaz put me on the line for a deal. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to make good on his promise. Kaz could slip something into my drink. He could overpower me or have someone do it for him. He could force me into something at gunpoint. He could--he could have sold me.
I swallow once, wiping my eyes with my palm. “Listen, y/n, Kaz says whatever he needs to--”
“His word means something, Jesper, you know that.”
My voice must reflect how hollow I feel inside because Jesper sighs once. “Y/n-”
I swallow once, “I’m fine, Jesper. You didn’t hear everything, and you’re drunk, and nothing happened. Everything’s fine.”
Something in my chest has stopped. He was willing to sell me. I was wagered like the gambling chips from the Crow Club. Everything Cassandra said was right. Kaz Brekker may be a criminal like the woman that raised me, but he lacks Cassandra’s one redeeming quality. He lives without humanity.
I have heard the stories, I have seen what becomes of women sold and bartered. Cassandra has stolen so many women that were owned by men like the man Kaz just did business with. The man he was willing to sell me to just to get an edge on Pekka Rollins.
Thousands of images reflect in my mind. I can see them now, their empty eyes offset only by the litter of bruises against their skin.
“Y/n--”
“I said I’m fine, Jesper. I know how Brekker is.” I repeat, voice stern. “I just need to go to bed.” He looks like he wants to say something. “I’ll sleep it all off.” I stand, staring at a blank spot on the wall. “Don’t drink too much, alright? Just make sure you eventually find your way to a safe bed. It doesn’t even have to be yours.”
Jesper grins, “You get me.” He sighs, adjusting his hold on his glass. “Will do, Doves, make sure to take something to make sleeping off that headache a little easier.”
No matter how tonight goes, if I survive, I’m going to need to drink something strong. “Yeah, Jes, I’ll take care of my headache.”
I am a phantom as I approach the stairwell. In another life, another version of events, I never entertained the idea of being Jesper’s company as he drank in celebration of our success. In that reality, what I need to do is less possible.
With shaking hands I reach towards the pocket of my dark pants. In a single slash, the blade my fingers are touching can take a life. I can extinguish a flame of destruction and Cassandra will be proud of me. She’ll realize that the child she took in was worth it.
“Y/n--”
I turn, trying to hide how ambushed I feel. Okay...there’s nothing weird about jumping about someone’s sudden appearance. “Kaz.”
His name stumbles awkwardly from me. Act normal. “I need to speak to you.” Speak to me, how kind of him to waste his valuable time communicating with someone who’s basically cattle. “I have some business to attend to first. Meet me in my office before the hour ends?”
Why, is my purchaser going to be expecting me? The urge to lash out pulses through me, but that will get me nothing. Kaz is beyond reason. If I could change him, if I could spare him, I would. So I swallow the lump in my throat and nod.
“The color’s drained from your face.” His observation is a blow to the chest. “You’re not ill. Does Nina--”
“I’m fine.” His concern is only practical. Illness would only slow me down or make me less valuable. “Just a migraine. I’ll sleep it off tonight.”
His eyebrows draw together for a moment. “Hm.” Please let that be the dismissal I’m looking for. “If you’re feeling uneasy, you don’t need to over concern yourself. That’s what I wanted to meet with you about.” Kaz pauses, an odd affliction crossing his features briefly. “You did good work today.”
An unnamed feeling wedges itself between my hurt and fury. Grief--crushing, undeniable grief has found itself in me. “Thank you.”
Kaz won’t stop looking at me directly in the eye. “I know that you’re adverse to killing and much of what I do, but you never let that translate into weakness.”
His voice is low and uneasily patient. My chest flutters, all of my emotions curdling in my chest. Even on a normal day I wouldn’t be able to think of a good response to that. “I’ll see you before the end fo the hour.” He nods once and I turn. “Kaz,” his name comes from me without my permission, “I appreciate your acknowledgement of my lack of weakness.”
For a second, I think he might smile. “I never said you lack weakness.”
“I know, but your gushing approval made your true feelings clear.”
“Dear, y/n, light of my existence,” Kaz approaches me, extending a hand slowly. I become perfectly still as his pinky latches onto mine for a brief moment. My heart stops. “I have never once ‘gushed approval’.” His sarcasm seems to settle me. The corner of my mouth turns upwards. “Now, get out of my way, I have some business to deal with downstairs.”
“Doubt I could get you to ask more nicely.”
He takes a single step forward. “Please, excuse me.”
A final good moment with Kaz. My chest swells as I step to the side. “That’s more like it.”
He disappears down the stairs. Okay--within the hour. I have time to-to think and to--I don’t even know. Cassandra sent me here to ruin him, to work against him so that our gang could do better. I’m a mole, not a killer. But I should have known that one day our relationship would end like this--the knife of one buried in the back of the other.
That final thought echoes in my chest, shattering me. I make it to my room, lock the door, and sink against the wall, suppressing a sob.
I stay like that for as long as I can justify it, but there is no putting off the inevitable. Kaz Brekker will die at my hand, and it is deserved. I wipe at my tears with the back of my palm and wash my face in the sink. Once I’m convinced that I’m presentable, I leave my room, checking for the blade secured to my thigh. It hasn’t been that long, so there’s a good chance I will have the element of surprise. That’s the only way to end this. I’ll be efficient, just like Cassandra taught me. He will not suffer, and it will not be personal.
I walk to his office, my steps methodical. He would have sold me. He would have sold me. He would have sold me. I take a deep breath, reaching for the handle of the door to his office. I pull the dagger from its place, squeezing the hilt. He would have ruined me.
Pushing the door open silently, I stop breathing. His tall figure is turned away from the door. Good, this way he won’t have to see me and I won’t have to feel his reaction. My steps are even until I’m within arms reach of him. Think of Cassandra, think of all he’s done.
My blade plunges into his back. The world stops. I pull my knife out before pushing it back in. Tears swell in my eyes. Again and again, I stab him. He takes two unsteady steps before falling to his knees. I yank the knife out one final time. He collapses in front of me.
Everything in my body shatters. Dead--Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the boy who stayed up with me after an injury left me too sore to sleep, the man who would have sold me. He used me as currency, he has disrespected and threatened me so many times, and he linked his gloved pinky with mine in order to ease me.
I stare at his body, forcing the hurt to crash into me like violent waves. All of my fury, all of my desire to win Cassandra over, vanishes. Now all that’s left is a burning agony.
What have I done?
The question is screamed so loudly in my head that it feels silent. I tear my gaze from the body--his body--and stare at my knife. The end of it is coated in so much sticky, red liquid I could throw up. My hands and clothing are covered in the same thing. I drop to my knees, letting everything I’m wearing soak into his blood. My free hand covers my mouth in hopes of silencing the sound that is ripped from my throat. The urge to touch him, to feel him while he’s still warm, pours through me. But the one thing I can still offer him is the protection of his will. I will respect his wishes. So instead of dropping over him, I just stare, my fingers still gripping the damn knife.
What have I done?
Collected footsteps snap me out of the trans I’ve fallen into. I take two deep breaths before turning my head. If I have been caught, I deserve whatever fate I will be met with. Blinking twice, I force my eyes to adjust on the person who has found me. There is no energy in me for fear for myself, there is only heartbreak.
Kaz. It’s--he’s alive. By some Saint granted miracle, he’s alive!
He’s standing there, watching me with the blankest expression I’ve ever seen him wear. I don’t care. I don’t care. I jump to my feet, disregarding the only man I’ve ever killed. Whoever he was, that’s something for me to feel guilty about later. Eventually, the relief will become a feeling I can manage and I’ll be able to regret the life I just took, but right now all that matters is Kaz.
I drop the dagger, letting it clatter against the hardwood floor. I run towards him, desperate to be close enough to see his open eyes and to be aware of the rise and fall of his chest. “Kaz,” a lament, a prayer, a lifeline.
My hand moves forward without a second thought. I link my pinky with his, the same way he did earlier. I squeeze his finger as tightly as possible, desperate to feel the fact that he’s alive. Kaz owes me nothing, but he gives me what I need. His pinky squeezes mine back, his eyes holding mine.
I think we could have stayed like that forever. But the man that I attacked shattered our silence with a pained, exhausted groan. Our hands fall apart.
kies jou. - kaz brekker. des. shadow and bones (tv) s2 spoilers!. kaz brekker didn't let hope cloud his judgment, however just this once, he lets it because it's you. notes. angst. ooc(?) kaz brekker. brief mentions of Kaz's trauma. kaz and Inej do not have a romantic link. to establish a relationship. mentions six of crow's shenanigans.
hello there! i suck at summary but here you go an angsty yet fluffy kaz brekker this is my first time writing for the fellow, so he might be ooc. enjoy!
wanorde - chaos kies jou - choose you wc: 956
Kaz Brekker wanted something, something more than the kruge he could bury with his dead body, more than the gold he could hang on his walls, more than the paintings he could hide in his room, Kaz Brekker wanted something more. He wanted you.
He watched everyone look at you whenever you entered the slat, how their eyes would linger on your face and hands. Some say you’re a dream built to see paradise but to Kaz, you were a fucking chaos. The chaos that might drown him someday and maybe save him one day. He saw you as a weakness, not for the crew, but a weakness kept within himself.
But saints, if you were the chaos then why do you keep caring, why do you keep looking at him with eyes that calm him down, why do you always there in plain sight, and why do you always pull him up whenever the water in his lungs looks for ways for him to drown. He never saw it coming, he just realized that one day, he didn’t want to lose you.
Maybe it was the night when you let him see a little bit of you in your safe place or maybe the night where he let you break a little part of his walls or maybe the time you looked at him with care even if he is in his armor. Or maybe the time when you bled to protect him. It made Kaz numb, he loathed this emotion, this feeling, this chaos brooding inside him. To some, it’s hope, a hope to make things better, to make things okay but Kaz learned to hope the hard way, when he was a kid, Hope drowns you and clouds your judgment.
But hope is a word of luck dipped in the honey of chaos, that was hope for Kaz when you express it. It feels so foreign yet so raw, it scared him yet it also became his salvation and perhaps, a secret language that only he can decipher. All the heist, all the thrill, lead to this, lead you to him, always to him.
—
The fold was now only a myth, the weight of the gold filled Kaz’s pockets, Inej has gotten her freedom, Jesper and Wylan were okay, Nina and her slab of fur will unite once again, and then you.
As you tell your prayers to the saints of Ravka, a man with a cane watched you in the corner of the room.
“Did you get the payment, Brekker?”
Kaz looked at you and the wound on your forehead, then he recalled the moment earlier when you protected him from a volcra. He looked away and in the back of his mind, Jordie’s voice resurfaced.
You will always cause harm, Kaz. You are the chaos, you are!
He clenched his jaw and weave a deep sigh. “Everyone will get their cut once we're back in Ketterdamn.”
He looked at you once again, and to his surprise, you were staring at him, your caring stare for him. The voice of Jordie and the waves of the sea were cleared again, and the only thing he heard was your voice.
“What now, Brekker?”
With that question, he held his cane a little tighter, and his breathing become rigged.
“Settle. Inej isn’t the only one who got their freedom.”
You nodded your head as you stood up and walked up to him.
“Tell me something…Kaz.” His name fell out of your lips like a hymn he wishes to bottle as if whenever he hears your voice, all he wanted is to let hope to cloud his judgment. “I know you saw something, you…you’ve never been the same since that time, Brekker.”
Of course, you noticed. How the number amount of times he called your name, he stood a little closer to you, he looked over to you, protect you, something happened in Shu Han, you knew it. Kaz knew it.
“Please…Kaz.”
He looked at you and he knew your voice was much scarier than the poison he inhaled in Shu Han, he never knew that chaos would be so beautiful and so…hopeful. Hope clouds judgment, Kaz knew it.
But this time, he lets it.
“Jordie was there…” He watched your expression be different when you looked at his eyes and they looked bitter as he spoke his brother’s name. Perhaps a misunderstanding or fear but his words suck the air in your lungs.
“And you, my wanorde.”
Chaos.
You stared at each other for a moment. As he breaks the silence, with his walls and armor again.
“Why…why didn’t you run away when the volcra was in front of me?”
You sighed and gave him a knowing look.
“Because I promised. I promised myself to take care of you. May I?”
You gestured your hand over his hand and at this exact moment, his walls and armor betrayed him as hope pushed him through his loudest thoughts: to have you.
He grabbed your hand as you softly examine and traced the markings of his gloves, and his whispers slipped from his mouth. “It’s rotten work..” He was mad and disappointed.
But his tone was also sad, relieved, and somehow, it was like a plea. You inhaled deeply, as you held his hands, now with both of your hands. You smiled at him.
“Not to me, Kaz.”
His hand in yours was something that scared him, he fears that it would drown him but just this once, he let it be, for your hands never drowned him, somehow it saved him. Upon touching your hands…
“Not if it’s you.”
…he felt alive.
a/n: i actually based this story off : “Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.” ― Anne Carson, Euripides
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⚘ ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 includes: steve harrington, edward munson, jonathan byers, robin buckley, nancy wheeler
𝘀𝗶𝘅 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘀 includes: kaz brekker, inej ghafa, matthias helvar, jesper fahey, nina zenik, wylan van eck
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