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pregnant-piggy · 1 year

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The Trap

part one of THWARTED

Six of Crows x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: Someone keeps outsmarting Kaz Brekker, snatching his jobs right from under his nose, and he will not sit idly by and watch it happen. He sets a trap, but what he finds almost seems like too much trouble for its worth.

warnings: being knocked out, light panic, reader has killed someone (this series deals with quite a lot so let me know if i’ve missed anything!)

The doors of the Slat slammed open, but the anger was sizzling in Kaz’ ears and he didn’t even hear it. His leg was throbbing and he was leaning on his cane more than he liked but there was no time to dwell on it. There were bigger issues that needed to be taken care of.

His eyes found the lanky sharpshooter he was looking for easily. “Jesper. Upstairs. Now.”

Maybe Jesper was in the mood to obey or maybe he heard the barely contained anger behind Kaz’ voice, but he got up and followed without a word.

Kaz limped up the three flights of stairs, his body protesting against every move. He’d barely slept in three nights while preparing for this job. He had taken care of everything—the plan had been faultless. And yet…

Up in his office, Inej was already waiting, leaning against the wall. She shared a glance with Kaz, as if asking if she should stay. He gave a single nod.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you calling me up here,” Jesper said as he stepped inside, “but I’m guessing it’s not to have a nice cup of tea?”

Kaz sank down in his desk-chair. An almost imperceptible sigh slipped from his lips as he stretched his leg out and he caught Inej sending him a worried glance from the side but ignored her. This wasn’t the time for pity.

“It happened again.”

The vault had been empty. Nothing. Not even a trace of someone else having been there, but all that Kaz had wanted had been gone.

Jesper whistled through his teeth. “What’s that now? The third time?”

“How?” Inej asked.

Kaz folded his hand together. That was the thing—he didn’t know how. Someone had been thwarting his plans and he could not for the life of him figure out how they did it. Or why. Why they only picked some of the hardest jobs while there were easier and more profitable undertakings they could have chosen.

There was a pattern, Kaz was sure, but clouded by his vexation he couldn’t see it. The gambling den on East Stave. The store in the Exchange. The vault in the councilman’s office. Something was connecting those three workings but he didn’t know what.

“We have to take different measures,” he said, ignoring Inej’ question. “Somehow, someone is aware of our plans and keeps beating us to them.”

Jesper frowned. “Any idea who? That’d make shooting them a little easier.”

“No one will be shooting anyone.” But at Jesper’s pout Kaz added, “Yet.”

Hands already resting on his guns, Jesper flashed a smile. Then he turned grave. “Do you think it’s Rollins?”

Kaz bit back the red haze of anger. “No,” he said. “No one would do this so silently unless they had something to hide. If Rollins had done this, the whole Barrel would’ve known. Besides, the Exchange job would be stealing from his own pocket. A whole lot of trouble for nothing.”

“He’s too lazy for that,” Inej added.

“So who then?” Jesper asked.

“Yes, who then?” Kaz pulled out a map and let his finger wander down the streets of Ketterdam. “That’s what we’ll find out.”

No one outsmarted the Bastard of Barrel, and they sure as hell wouldn’t attempt it from the shadows. If whoever was hindering him didn’t want to show their face, he’d put the spotlight on them himself.

Inej and Jesper shared a glance.

“Scheming face?”

Inej nodded, stepping closer to the desk. “Most definitely.”

Kaz gave his bad leg a stretch and rolled his shoulders. There’d be time to rest later. “Let’s set a trap, shall we?”

-o-o-o-o-o-

You hid your face in the collar of your coat as a group of workers passed you. One of the men laughed loudly and you shrunk together even more, pulling your hat closer over your face. The men walked past you without taking notice, but you didn’t dare to breathe out until you’d turned the corner.

Between the constant stadwatch patrols and the dark, solid storehouses, the Warehouse District wasn’t exactly one of your favourite parts of the city. That it was the best secured place in Ketterdam also didn’t work in its favour. Not when you were there to steal something.

At exactly eleven bells you turned into the street that served your destination. You glanced around, but there was only silent nighttime around you, and took your hat off. Keeping your hands in your pockets, feeling the lockpicks in one hand and the small handgun in the other, you walked until you reached the door under the third street light.

Everything had almost been ridiculously easy. The man that had boasted about the cheque he’d gotten from his latest shipment had almost been too loud. When you’d checked whether the shipment was real it had almost gone too smoothly. And the street was almost too empty, too silent, too dark.

But you needed the money and with the way you figured the man had earned it, it wouldn’t be too much of a loss if he never got to spend it. Honest work didn’t exist in Ketterdam and you really did not want to go back to living on the street.

At the door, you dropped to your knees and let the lockpicks slip into your hands. If anyone were to walk by you could pretend the ties of your shoes had come loose, but the lock clicked before you’d seen anyone. After one last glance at the dark street, you slipped inside.

The storehouse was no different from any of the other ones in the Warehouse District. You entered an entrance hall that was shielded from the vast space of the warehouse by wooden panels. On your left there was a table and some benches for the workers and in the darkness you could make out a discarded coat and a stack of newspapers.

The silence of the warehouse gave you chills, but you shook them off. You were here for a simple thing and you’d be out quickly. It was easy, just like stealing those authenticity papers on the jurda shipment at the Exchange had been.

But all sense of confidence left you as you saw the faint light coming from the office up in the corner of the storehouse. In a single move you had pulled the gun from your pocket and felt the dagger slip from your sleeve to your palm.

You should turn around and leave—that was the sensible thing. But when had you ever been sensible?

Slowly you walked through the stockpiles, keeping your footsteps as soundless as possible. You could hear nothing, no voices, no movement, but the light shouldn’t be burning. The most fortuitous explanation would be that someone had left it on, but you’d learned the hard way that luck was only for those who could afford it. And, considering you were here to steal money, you clearly weren’t one of those.

At the bottom of the stairwell up to the office you halted and listened. There still was no sound. You crept up the stairs, glancing over your shoulder once you were halfway. From up there you could see the entire hall of the storehouse, but it was empty.

You went on and at the top, you nudged open the door with your elbow, keeping both the gun and knife ready in your hands. The door opened with a squeak.

There, on the desk in the middle of the office, stood a single lantern, illuminating the entire room. The rest was empty. With a relieved sigh, you stepped inside, lowering your weapons.

“Wrong choice, darling.”

The door closed.

You spun around.

There was a flash of silver before something hard hit your head and you went down.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a trap.

Of course it was. You should have realised that, but you’d been on a winning streak lately and you’d overestimated your own abilities. A little confidence had never hurt anyone, but this shouldn’t have happened. You couldn’t afford missteps.

Your head hurt so much that you couldn’t open your eyes just yet. The pain spread from your left temple and it came in waves.

Upon trying to move you found your wrist stuck in ropes and you tried not to panic. Apart from the pain in your head, you seemed unharmed and you tried to take relief from the fact that whoever had bound you at least hadn’t killed you. Yet.

What if they had found you? Had they come for you like they had all those years ago?

Your breaths grew ragged and your chest felt like it was the part of your body bound with ropes. There was something acidic in the back of your throat, the sense burning behind your eyes. Your heart was pounding, sending the blood through your veins in wavering shocks.

You needed to open your eyes. You needed to breathe. You needed to get loose. You needed out.

Between your fits of panic you heard a door open and behind your eyelids you noticed the faint hue of light. In a reflex you opened your eyes and then quickly turned your head away.

The room you were in was dark, but in the weak light you could see a stone floor and heaps of what you presumed was cotton. You told yourself to breathe.

One step at a time. Eyes, breath, wrists.

Once you had gathered your breath, your panic stilled. Instead, resolve filled you. You had seen worse situations, had lived through more danger—you could get out of this. And perhaps, you thought as you slightly lifted your gaze and caught two pairs of feet and the tip of a cane, there was even something to gain.

It was time people paid their debts.

Eyes, breath, wrists. You took one final deep breath and looked up. The pain in your head was distracting but you bit it back. There was no time for weakness. As soon as your eyes landed on the person standing in front of you, you grinned.

“Well, well, well. Kaz Brekker, as I live and breathe. To what do I owe the pleasure of being kidnapped by the Barrel’s bastard?”

Kaz Brekker didn’t move a muscle as he stared at you. “Councilman Frederiksen recently lost his opal-inlaid family crest. It has disappeared from his vault, along with documents proclaiming his investment in the business of another esteemed councilman. Slootmaekers, I believe his name is.” He blinked. “Whoever has stolen the crest seems to have disappeared with it. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

Brekker’s dark glare was piercing and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Out of all people that could have come for you, he was the last one you’d expected. But it did bring forth a fortunate opportunity.

Maybe luck hadn’t given up on you after all.

“I’m afraid not.”

“No, of course not. Let me try again. Maybe this will ring a bell: A week ago, a shipment of jurda came in from Novyi Zem. Quality stuff, rumoured to have been handpicked and to last longer than any other kind on the market right now.”

You pursed your lips. “Sounds like a pricey investment.”

“It was one. You can imagine the investor’s fury when he found out someone had stolen the papers declaring the jurda’s authenticity. Without those, not only did the jurda lose its value, so did the investor his credibility. Almost as if the thief had wanted that to happen. You do not, by any chance, know something of it, do you?”

“Can’t say I do. But it sounds like an impressive job.”

“I must admit that it was.” He flexed his gloved fingers on the head of his cane and you saw he was narrowing the edge of his composure. “Allow me to try one more time. Mr. Jim Albert. Ever heard that name before?”

You froze. “What about him?”

“Hm.” A ghost of a smile passed Kaz Brekker’s face. “He disappeared three weeks ago, right before he was supposed to meet new investors. I’d know, because I was one of them. We waited two hours but he never showed. The next day his body was found in his gambling den’s backalley.”

The game was over and you had lost. You knew and so did Brekker. He tilted his head to the side and looked at you. “I suppose you don’t know anything about that either?”

You started to laugh, simply because you didn’t know what else to do.

“Very clever. The crest and jurda I would have left unclaimed easily, but” —you let your laugh die out— “Albert’s death is mine. And if you want an apology for your failed investment, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “I never expected it to pay off anyway, but I admit it would have liked some power after his bankruptcy. No, keep your apologies to yourself—I was curious as to why.”

“I was trying to find a new hobby. Spice things up?”

The person next to Brekker barked a laugh and you moved your gaze. “You’ve brought your loyal companion, I see.” You flashed a smile. “Jesper Fahey. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, although the circumstances under which would not have been my first choice.”

“You know me?” Jesper asked.

“I do my homework.” You looked around, silently noticing that you hadn’t left the Warehouse District, judging by the cotton storehouse around you. “So, now you know I stole the crest and documents, and I killed Albert. What do you want?”

“I want to know why.” Brekker took one step closer. “You have cost me time and money, so you better make it worth it. Who do you work for?”

“Work for?” you scoffed.

“The Razorgulls? Black Tips? Did Geels hire you? Or is it Rollins?”

The anger got to you before you could stop it. You surged forward with a snarl. If your hands hadn’t been bound, you were sure Brekker would have been a heap against the wall now.

“How dare you? How dare you suggest I work for that lowlife asshole?” You heard the soft click of a gun being loaded and when you looked aside you found Jesper’s gun pointed at your face. You turned back to Kaz. “Choose your words better next time, Brekker, or even that poor cane of yours won’t be able to help you walk anymore.”

You sunk back in the chair, fingers clutched around the rope on your wrists. Jesper lowered his gun.

“So not Rollins,” he said. “Noted. Kaz?”

This one was staring down at you with a strange, dark expression on his face. It lasted for a second, then it cleared and he was back.

“I work for no one,” you said, trying to keep your voice from trembling. “It’s just me.”

“Why those jobs? Where did you get the information?”

“Word is all around, you just have to listen to the right things.” You gestured around with your head. “Of course, not everything pays off.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“You asked two questions at the same time, that makes it rather hard to answer.”

Kaz squeezed his eyes. “Why did you kill Albert before the meeting?”

“Albert gambled off children in his club,” you said. Upon seeing Jesper’s shocked face and even Kaz’ shadow of disgust, you added, “Yes, quite the secret, isn’t it? He deserved the ending he got. They say death is like falling asleep, but I made sure Albert got haunted by some nightmares first.” You shook your head. “If I had known there’d be money to be earned with his death, I would’ve chosen a different time, but I do not regret killing him.”

In the back of your head you could still hear his screams and your own hysterical laughter. Cruel, but you weren’t lying. Albert had thrown you into this life so it was only fair he got what he deserved.

“I see. And the jurda job?”

“It was an easy one,” you shrugged. “Anyone in their right mind would have done it. You tried too, but I suppose you don’t care to tell me why?”

Brekker stroked a hand over the lapel of his coat. “Same reason as you, no doubt. What about Frederiksen?”

You huffed. “Do you expect me to reveal all my secrets, Brekker?” When he said nothing and just kept watching expectantly, you turned to Jesper. “Is he always this relentless?”

“You learn to deal with it,” Jesper said, giving you a light grin.

“I doubt that.” You looked at Kaz. “The crest is worth a lot. Of course there are easier ways to get money, but where’s the fun in that? Getting into the mansion wasn’t the problem but the vault was a puzzle. Took me three nights to figure it out, but I guess there are worse ways to spend your evenings.” You felt the rope in your hands. “Like being bound to a chair.”

“And the documents?”

“They were… a lucky surprise.” You thought of the papers under your mattress, the effort they had cost you to get to them, and the rage which with you had almost torn them apart. Even after all those years, that name still did that to you. “A nice way to stir things up.”

Jesper laughed. “I like her, Kaz.”

You smiled at him. That was one. But with just Jesper’s support you wouldn’t get far.

“So,” you said, tilting your chair back. “What more do you want to know?”

Brekker stared at you for a minute and you had the strange feeling he could see through your act. “One more thing.”

“Let me guess: Why tonight?” You shrugged. “A girl’s gotta eat, not? I hate to admit that you had me fooled so easily, but you did.”

“No.” Kaz pointed with his cane to you. “I want to know why you are still here when you have freed yourself from the rope minutes ago.”

Eyes, breath, wrists. You held out your unbound hands in front of you. Then you looked up; Jesper was staring at you with an impressed look on his face but Kaz seemed unfazed.

“The same reason you haven’t killed me yet, if I judge correctly.” You crossed your arms and leaned back. “You’re interested. So am I. We could work together.”

Brekker said nothing but you could see on his face that you’d guessed right. You truly hadn’t wanted to ruin his jobs, it had been a coincidence. And now he knew, perhaps there was a chance here. An opportunity to finally get your revenge.

“We could still kill you,” Jesper offered, but there was a smirk on his face.

Brekker wasn’t so merry. “One wrong move and it’s over,” he said. Then he nodded, “What do you have?”

You straightened, the excitement of a new job filling you with that familiar tingle, and grinned. Time to get to work. “Oh, it’s got it all. Money. Danger. Fun.”

Revenge.

Once, you had vowed to bring them all down, to never rest until you saw their bodies lowered into the ground. For years you had been nurturing your rage, preparing for this moment, when you would see them fall one by one.

You would come for them as they had come for you.

- - - - - - -

six of crows taglist: @xxinvisiblexx @awritingtree

MASTERLIST

#thwarted #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #soc #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa imagine #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine

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rubysunnday · 1 year

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can we always be this close

requested by anon: Congrats for reaching 6k!! I feel like such a proud mom, i've been following you since you had around 2k and you deserve this so much!! Could i please request a jesper x reader fic with the fake dating trope?

summary: from strangers to friends, friends into fake lovers, fake lovers into lovers

Kaz held a piece of paper out to Jesper. "Here's your invite."

Jesper took it between two fingers and flipped it over, unfolding it to its full size. "Mr and Mrs Leonard," he read, his brow furrowing.

"Oh, why do we have to be married?" Y/N grumbled, snatching the paper from Jesper's hands.

Jesper tutted, trying to snatch it back. Y/N slapped his hand away and, reluctantly, Jesper backed down.

"Because I need both of you for this job and it was easier to have one invitation than two," Kaz replied. "Now, here's the plan."

"Jesper and Y/N, you two are going to pretend to be guests of Van Delnik. Once inside and the party has started, one of you will cause a commotion."

Surrounded by big skirted dresses and expensive champagne, Y/N had never felt so out of place. She gripped Jesper's arm tightly as they walked through the corridor to the giant spherical ballroom.

"Ready?" Jesper asked, lowering his voice enough so that only Y/N could hear.

She nodded. "Yep."

"Inej, you'll be disguised as one of the maids. Once you see the commotion, head to the roof. I'll meet you up there."

"What are we stealing, again?"

"We're not, Jesper. Inej and I are staking out the building - Van Delnik is hiding his treasures somewhere and I for one want my DeKappel back."

"It wasn't yours in the first place, Kaz."

"Semantics, dearest Inej."

Y/N took her arm from Jesper's and took a step to the side, bumping into one of the men nearby. When he grunted and turned to tell her off, Y/N pretended to stumble, knocking the man's champagne glass onto her, and fell into Jesper.

"Sir, watch where you are going!" Jesper exclaimed, standing Y/N up on her feet. He dramatically whipped out a handkerchief and started dabbing at Y/N's chest and the bodice of her dress.

"Your wife bumped into me!"

"Because he tripped me up!" Y/N replied, pointing at a random man nearby.

"Once Inej and I are on the roof, we'll go in through the side window into Van Delnik's office. Jesper and Y/N, you need to give us at least ten minutes."

"I think we can manage that, can't we wife?"

"Oh, I am going to regret being married to you."

Once the commotion of who had tripped and spilt champagne on Y/N had calmed down - she'd managed to convince the men it'd been their fault - Jesper had whisked her away over to the buffet tables, out the way of the crowds.

"Saints, this chicken is to die for," Y/N muttered. She licked her fingers, wiped them on her skirt and picked up another piece. "I need the recipe." Y/N wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Saints my face is a mess."

"I think it looks beautiful," Jesper replied, smiling at her.

Y/N returned his smile.

"How do we know you're done?"

"Trust me, Y/N, you'll know."

The entire ballroom shook as something exploded outside the doors. Glasses wobbled and smashed onto the floor. People screamed. Guards rushed forward from their hiding spots.

"I guess that's the signal," Jesper muttered. "Now to get out of here."

"Where do we meet you?"

"Out the front - you'll be one of the many screaming guests if all goes to plan."

Jesper grabbed Y/N's hand and she clutched on tightly as they joined the throng of people trying to get out through the double doors. They both held on to one another, determined to stay together and not be split up by the crowd.

Once they'd squeezed through the double doors, the crowd spilled out into the street. Some ran away, some stood their, overwhelmed and shocked. To the right, a fire burnt away inside s store room, flames licking the glass of the windows within.

"Found them," Jesper muttered.

He pulled Y/N to him and they moved through the crowds, weaving over to the left and away from the fire. Kaz and Inej had both changed into servant uniforms and were blending in with the shrubbery and shadows.

"We were spotted," Kaz said as they walked up to them. "The bomb wasn't the plan."

"Oh, we thought it was," Y/N said. She absent-mindedly ran her thumb along the back of Jesper's hand. "Do we need to go?"

Kaz shook his head. "No, we'll wait -"

"There they are!"

Four heads shot up and turned sharply to the right. A disheveled looking guard was stood on the steps, pointing directly at them.

"Yes, we need to go," Kaz amended. "Meet at Black Veil."

As the Stadwatch and Van Delnik's personal security began to come at them, the four of them split up. Kaz and Inej going one way, Jesper and Y/N going the other.

Y/N gathered the numerous layers of her dress skirt and ran down the cobbled streets, wind blowing through her hair, tearing it out of its intricate up do.

"Split up," Jesper said, letting go of her hand.

Y/N darted right as Jesper went left. The pursuing guards stumbled to a halt and then quickly spotted them and their plan, splitting up themselves and chasing after them.

The street lamps had been left on in this bit of town - a sign of the rich who lived there. They could afford to burn the oil. Y/N saw an open public garden to her left and quickly pushed open the small iron gate and ran inside, the trees obscuring almost all of the street light. She ran through the bushes and the trees, the heels of her shoes sinking into the damp ground.

Eventually, she emerged out the other side. Y/N glanced behind her as she came out onto the street and ran into someone.

"Oh, saints!" Jesper exclaimed, his hands catching Y/N's waist and pulling her forward and into him.

Y/N put her hands on his chest, stopping her face from smacking into it. "I thought you'd gone the other way!"

"I did, it looped to here!"

"Oh my -"

"There they are, shoot them!"

Jesper grinned at her, taking her hand in his. "And off we go again."

They broke out into a sprint, running down the street once again. Bullets began to ricochet off the floor and the walls around them as the private guard began shooting at them.

Y/N giggled, the adrenaline running through her. Her laughter cut off abruptly as something hit her back and side, a searing pain shooting through her entire being, She stumbled forward, Jesper's going around her waist and holding her up.

"Ok, ok, come on," Jesper said, looping his arm through Y/N. "We need to keep going, Y/N, I'm sorry."

Y/N groaned in pain, pressing the palm of her hand against her side. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other and trying to breathe through the pain.

At some point, they lost the private guard - Y/N wasn't sure when - and entered Black Veil Cemetery. Jesper was on auto-pilot, walking down the headstones until they reached the mausoleum.

Jesper and Y/N all but fell through the doors and down the stairs, startling person who was already inside.

"Saints," Nina swore, her arms reaching forward and catching Y/N as she fell forward, her legs folding beneath her. "What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" Jesper muttered, all but ripping the buttons off his jacket in an attempt to get it off. "Kaz and his ridiculous plans."

"I'm fine -" Y/N cut herself off with a yell of pain as Jesper pressed his jacket against her side.

Nina sighed, tutting to herself. "I'm -"

"Not a healer, we know, Nina," Jesper and Y/N said together.

"Alright, saints," Nina muttered. "Come on, down the stairs."

Somehow, Jesper and Nina managed to get Y/N to her feet and down the stairs. Together they lifted her up and onto the empty tomb that often became a table.

"I'll be back," Nina muttered, guiding Jesper's hands further over Y/N's side. "Try not to die."

With a bustle of skirts, Nina disappeared back up the stairs, leaving Jesper and Y/N alone, in almost complete silence.

"I'm sorry," Jesper whispered.

Y/N looked up at him. "What for?"

"I... I don't know, it just feels like my fault because I came back to you and they followed me and -"

"Jes, breathe," Y/N said softly, placing her left hand on his cheek. Her thumb trailed over his skin gently, catching the few tears that managed to escape his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He dropped his head, breathing in deeply.

"Talk to me, Fahey," Y/N said, putting her hand under his chin and gently lifting it up until he was looking at her. "I'm listening."

It took him a moment to gather himself enough to speak. "When I was young, my mother tried to help this little girl. The girl had been poisoned and my mother, being grisha, went to help. She drew out the poison from this girls body into her own - saving the girl's life but ultimately killing her.

"This... you bleeding out on my, frankly, rather lovely jacket and coming close to dying it's just..." He sighed, shaking his head. "It just brought back those memories."

Y/N nodded. "I get it." She paused. "I'd miss me too."

Jesper laughed. "Nicely done."

The sound of Nina returning gave them both precious seconds to compose themselves - even though the heartrender had probably sensed something was going on.

But Nina didn't say a word. She walked in, moaning about Kaz, and shooed Jesper away, demanding space to work.

Jesper didn't leave. He helped Nina get Y/N out of her corset and held the hem of Y/N 's shirt up. He held her hand as Nina began to heal the wound. It didn't hurt as much as a needle would have done, but it still felt uncomfortable and weird. As soon as Nina was satisfied, she patted Y/N on the shoulder and disappeared back up the stairs, muttering something about Kaz and a knife.

"Do you think -"

"No," Jesper said, "no I don't think she did."

Y/N looked up at him, smiling. "Would you -"

"Of course."

Jesper picked up a roll of bandage. He moved closer to Y/N and she shifted, letting him standing in between her legs. They'd been in this position numerous times before - but it was only ever flirting and only ever for a job.

But now, something had shifted between them. A new understanding had emerged - one that could only have happened when someone came close to losing the other.

"My hands are cold," Jesper warned.

Y/N nodded, smiling. "It's fine."

Jesper's fingers brushed against her side and he held the bandage firmly against the wound. He then unrolled the bandage and wrapped it around Y/N's middle, keeping it tight. Y/N leant against Jesper's shoulder as he fiddled with the bandage behind her back, resting her head against his.

"You know," Y/N began, her voice soft, "I really enjoyed pretending to be your wife tonight. Even if it was just pretend."

Jesper stood up, having finished tying the bandage. He looked down at her, his legs brushing against hers. "It doesn't have to be pretend."

Y/N felt her heart skip and her breath got caught in her chest. "No," she said, reaching a hand up and combing her fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck. "It doesn't."

Jesper lurched forward and pressed his lips against Y/N's. The force of Jesper's kiss meant that she had to brace herself against the tomb with her hands, barely catching herself before she fell backward completely.

"Is this ok?" Jesper asked, resting his forehead against hers.

Y/N could feel his breath against her skin. She opened her eyes, immediately getting lost in Jesper's gaze. "It's perfect."

She leant forward and pressed her lips against is neck, trailing down to his shoulder. Jesper pushed her back and Y/N let her arms fold down until she was lying on the tomb, Jesper on top of her.

"I really hope Nina has had the common sense to go outside," Jesper muttered, resting his head against Y/N's chest.

"Either way," Y/N arched her back as Jesper pressed a kiss against the side of her neck, "she will do soon."

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #fic #fanfic #six of crows fic #shadow and bone fic #jesper fahey #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey x reader

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omgkatherine01 · 1 year

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Creatures of the Night - Masterlist

Summary: Running away from the orphanage home you grew up since you were a baby, you wanted to search your place in the big world. But at a rainy stormy night you found yourself pulled into a different universe. You were found by a local gang, who decided to help you get back to your world, only to discover you were apart of the world you were pulled into.

The discovery of powers you didn't knew you had all your life and to find out you were part of their universe had pulled a change in the plans quickly. You were dragged into a plan of kidnapping a target of theirs and on the way, you will be returned to your real family.

However, during your journey through the Fold, you found yourself developing some feelings to the gang's con-artist leader who was suffering from haphephobia.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x female reader

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11 coming soon

#shadow and bone #netflix series #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #the darkling imagine #mal x alina #the darkling x alina #mal oretsev imagine #jesper fahey imagine #the crows #another universe #the crows x reader

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frostandflamesfanfic · 3 months

Text

Everyone Has a Talent (Jesper Fahey x Reader)

Request: No (self indulgent)

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Nothing except a very flirtatious Zemeni sharpshooter

Summary: Here in Ketterdam, you've finally found a home. Even though it's chaotic, you love your life. You love your friends. When walking through the city to deliver a message for the one and only Kaz Brekker, what happens when you catch your best friend flirting with himself in the mirror?

As you walked through the streets of Ketterdam, you couldn't help but let a flicker of a smile spread across your face. The Barrel could be overwhelming at times, but it was home. You had arrived here at the lowest point of your life; you were orphaned, tired, and hungry. It didn't help that you were also down on your luck. The only way you were able to have a meal in your stomach was when you could afford to swipe scraps from neighboring carts and shops.

You found yourself at the front stoop of the Crow Club a few weeks after your arrival. At first, you thought you had gotten caught for lifting a few kruge from a lady's bag in an attempt to afford some real food. The next thing you knew, you were escorted to the back room awaiting a conference with the Bastard himself. Somehow you had managed to convince both Kaz Brekker and Per Haskell that you were worth the risk. They offered you a deal: five years of service and enough kruge to tide you over to wherever the next adventure took you -- no strings attached. How could you possibly refuse?

You had been working with the Dregs ever since. At some point, you even managed to prove yourself useful enough to be trusted on heists. The night Kaz totally didn't "relocate'' Jan Van Eck's prized De Kappel, you were there. You had run the surveillance during the job. It wasn't the most glamorous of responsibilities, but it still gave you a feeling of purpose. There were times that you would be called upon by Kaz to put together last-minute disguises to take on another job. Although that was incredibly infrequent.

Still, you couldn't complain. Kaz hadn't just given a roof over your head and a steady income; he had given you a family, too. You had started to grow closer to some of the Dregs after a few missions. Jesper Fahey (Kaz's overly flirty and gangly sharpshooter) and Inej Ghafa (Kaz's prized Wraith and...investment?) were two individuals you shared particularly close connections with. You would spend many nights keeping watch and waiting for new shipments to enter the Ketterdam docks. Conversation was bound to happen. At least, with one of them, anyway. Inej mostly kept to herself, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

Jesper was different, though. The two of you would use the time to catch up on what was happening in your lives, commiserating over how dead-ass broke you were, and for you to pester Jesper about his gambling addiction. It didn't matter what you talked about or what job you were on. You just enjoyed being together. One of your favorite conversations in particular was a game you would play. You would plan out these exotic days of adventure for when you could finally leave the busy city and explore. When Jesper had found out you wanted to travel, he encouraged you to save up for a trip.

"You never know when your last day may be," he insisted. "You deserve a trip, love. Treat yourself when this is all over. Just don't forget about us little people."

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't imagined what would happen if you brought Jesper along on your travels. What would your lives look like? Would your dynamic still be the same or would it be different? Would you start a life together? It wasn't that the thought scared you. It was quite the opposite, really. The idea of having a real- an actual life- with Jesper brought a smile to your face every time you thought about it. You just didn't know how he felt about it.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

As you continued your trek, you turned into an alcove where you found your best friend getting lost staring into a side mirror. Jesper was pretending to be some sort of suave gunslinger. Which, while he technically was, it never hurt to see him practice. He always looked so calm and so cool. The thwip of the weapons being removed from the holsters and placed back moments later was almost relaxing. You couldn't allow yourself to get distracted, though. You had a message and you were quite attached to the fingers Kaz had threatened to remove should you not find Jesper.

"Are you just going to stand there all day?" you began, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Jesper grinned back at you through his shiny reflection. "What can I say?" he remarked. "When something looks this good, you need to stop and appreciate the true art."

A laugh escaped your lips. "I can't tell if you're flirting with yourself or the mirror."

"Couldn't it be both, love?" The Zemeni sharpshooter turned around and shot you a wink. "What's the problem with a little self-love?"

"It's a problem when it's distracting you from the task at hand."

"And just what might that be, love?" Jesper moved to place his revolvers back in his holster, resting his hands lazily on top of the handles. He loved those weapons more than life itself. You'd seen him play with them when he was bored, anxious, or plain fidgety. Which, needless to say, was always. It mesmerized you to watch him spin the weapons as if they were mere children's toys. Back and forward, round his index fingers...Saints, the things those hands have done…

You cleared your throat and shook your head to clear your thoughts. Can't afford to get distracted, you reminded yourself. The blush flashing across your cheeks almost caused you to hide. "Uh, Kaz needs you," you somehow managed to get out.

"He always needs me." It was meant to be a casual careless statement, but you could sense the subtle presence of pride laced in his voice. "I think he could spare a few minutes."

You stood there in silence for a minute, unsure of what to do next. The right thing to do would be to go find Kaz. But you and Jesper rarely had time together outside of heists…

"Come here."

You blinked. "What?"

Jesper gave you a small smile and pointed to a spot on the ground beside him. "I said come here."

You shoved your hands deep in your pockets and shrugged. "I'm fine right here, thanks," you responded. "What's the problem?"

"I want to show you something." He was determined when he wanted something. You had to give him that. You were surprised when he sighed and grabbed your arms, gently pulling you closer to the mirror. Jesper pointed to the mirror. "Look."

"Okay...that's me?" You were now confused. "What's wrong?"

Jesper gestured with his hands. "You look tense," he remarked. “Make a face at it. Just do something to relax."

"How can I relax?! I tried, but there's just too much to do!" you exclaimed in a bitter huff. "You make it look easy. What's the secret?"

Your friend made a little show by leaning down as if he was about to whisper in your ear. You had to repress a shiver as his breath fanned against your cheek. He was so close right now, his chest pressed against your back. It was an intimate feeling, but you had to stop yourself before you made a mistake that ruined everything. "Afraid it's a trade secret, love," he mused with a dramatically hushed tone and wink. "It's just yet another Jesper talent."

"I just wish I even had a single talent."

This confession seemed to surprise Jesper, whose eyes widened slightly. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," he said. "You have a great number of talents."

You gave a small shrug. "I make clothes and I hide in the shadows," you relented. "Nothing as groundbreaking as shooting a guy's hat off from twenty feet."

"Actually, it was twenty five, but..." Jesper caught himself when he recognized your giving him a steely glare. He cleared his throat. "That's besides the point. I'm sure we can find something for you." Suddenly, his dark complexion shone with an unexpected glow. "I've got it!"

You watched in the mirror as he reached into his holster and pulled out one of his prized mother-of-pearl encrusted revolvers. The cold metal was a shock against your skin as Jesper pressed the weapon securely in your palm. "Try this. I will have you know that if you break it, I may need to reconsider this partnership." Even though his tone was serious, you knew Jesper was joking...possibly. "Now, here. Spin it like this...now like that..."

The two of you spent the next twenty minutes practicing revolver spins in the alley mirror. There were a few times where you would end up losing your grip on the gun, but Jesper was standing right by you to make sure it wouldn't be too detrimental to the design. You were so engrossed in the lesson that you almost didn't notice how much your smile had grown from before. Your cheeks had a tint of pink against them due to Jesper's close proximity, but you knew it would fade in a second. You just wanted to enjoy this moment.

When you finally managed to get a full series of rotations, you jumped for joy. Without thinking, you quickly pulled Jesper into a kiss. It was a short-lived moment, but the contact set off a bushel of butterfly flutters in your stomach. "I'm so sorry!" you were quick to apologize. Kissing your best friend was one thing, but your coworker? That was a whole other set of wrong. "It won't happen again."

"...Why not?"

You froze, eyes locking onto Jesper's grey hues. "What?"

"What was so bad about kissing me?" he asked. "I didn't think it was half bad."

He liked it? your mind asked you. That's certainly surprising. "Well," you tried to explain. "We do work together."

"I do think I'd be able to exhibit control, love. You on the other hand..." Jesper held up his hands in mock apology, which only had a well placed smack sent in his direction. “Ow! Don’t hit me!”

"I can kiss you! I don't have a problem with it." You really needed to think before you spoke.

Before you could run away, you felt Jesper's hand graze your left cheek. You could feel the stingingly cold metal of his colorful rings. His fingers were calloused, yet soft after all his work in the Club and the field. "Then how about we try that again?"

Surprised, you nodded silently and his lips were over yours once more. The two of you stayed there for as long as possible without losing oxygen. The only problem with that was you never heard Kaz approach with his cane. "Jesper," he said. "We need to go. Now." Kaz paused for a moment. "And tell your kissing pal that when the two of you are done, they're needed to collect some coin from the vault."

With a sigh against your lips, Jesper pulled away. "Right away, boss," he replied.

"This better not affect your performances," Kaz warned. He then nodded and limped away with his cane clutched tightly in his hand. It was just you and Jesper again. Alone. In the alleyway.

"Well, love," Jesper apologized. "I hate to kiss and run, but I"m afraid I'm needed." He pecked your cheek quickly before shrugging on his coat. It made your cheeks flush again. "We'll continue this when I get back, yeah?"

You could only wordlessly nod in agreement, causing him to give a curt nod as well. "Good." He began to walk away. "Oh, and by the way," he said in a louder tone. "I do think we found your talent."

===============

Author's Note: Okay, so hi. I completely disappeared from the writing circuit forever ago and still haven't completely come back. I wrote this fic almost two years ago when I first got into the Grishaverse fandom. It is posted on my AO3 if you want to see it in its former glory, but I felt it was high time to upload it here. When I found this in my docs, I was kind of surprised at how I captured his character, but I didn't hate it??

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little snippet of my writing again. If you did, please drop a like and reblog this fic so I know whether or not to bring back my favorite cheeky guy again. I hope to be back to writing some fic soon, as I'm taking a creative writing class this semester in uni, so the ideas should be flowing again!! Make sure to follow so you don't miss a thing -- we're so close to 500 followers, which is insane to me. Can't tell you how grateful I am for each and every single one of my fellow fandom people <3

#frostandflamesfanfic #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey fanfic #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey x you #jesper fahey #six of crows jesper #six of crows fanfic #six of crows imagine #save the grishaverse #save shadow and bone #kit young

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averagewriter-inthedark · 4 months

Text

Eye of The Storm ⛈| Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place during the events of Shadow & Bone S2

My Masterlists

Characters & Pairings: Crows x Squaller/Saint!Reader (platonic), Kaz Brekker x reader (slight/eventual)

Content Warnings: fighting, blood, profanity, cannon divergence | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.9k

Requested 📨: yes/no

Premise: As the Crows make their way back to the Slate following their climatic dethronement of Pekka Rollins, they are ambushed by his supporters with no plan of action to escape. As they slowly accept their fate, what was once a clear night is rained upon with lightning and thunder in its wake. Having beat the odds of meeting one living Saint in their lifetime, the Crows are stunned when their savior, a player in the ever unfolding drama in Ravka, is the legend in stories of restoring life in the world when all hope was lost.

Note: although the Saint name I give is not Y/n, it’s still a reader insert and explains more at the end (it’s not an OC) also I know Zoya is called Sankta Zoya of the Storm but I have yet to get to her arc so for this the reader has powers equivalent to her

————————

The sirens had finally seized, concluding the hysteria in the streets of Ketterdam once it was revealed the Firebox outbreak was a hoax. Constructed by none other than the Bastard of the Barrel and his thieves amongst men, the Crows. After years of heated tension, and guided vengeance, against Pekka Rollins, Kaz Brekker succeeded in his plans of putting down the Lion that had ruined his life. Constant mental torture as he manuevered his players on their chestboard now able to rest.

“Where were you?” His voice was raspy, face still painted with his blood from the beating as he addressed Inej when she appeared from the shadows. They had been making their way back to the Slat. Nina, Wylan, and Jesper were flanked beside him, the dimly lit street light shining down on the group. Inej had been the only one not accounted for, flooding Kaz with anxiety mixed with anger that she strayed from the plan.

“I--.”

A gloved hand came up, stopping her. “Actually, I’d rather not hear what you have to say.” he wanted to shout. Reprimand her for being so foolish. Voice how her actions could’ve gotten her or one of them hurt because they had no idea where she was.

Despite these desires, the pain in Kaz’s body was too much and he was in need of a strong drink. Inej narrowed her eyes, but the man brushed past her leaving the others to send her looks of sympathy. Falling in step, the group followed behind Kaz, making note of how empty the streets were at that time of night. It was eerie. Yeah they may have caused an uproar with their little stunt, but they assumed there’d still be people out and about.

Dance halls and clubs are empty. The markets closed for business. Not a soul in sight. Wylan was the first to speak, “I’ve never seen it this quiet.”

“Very odd if I must say,” Jesper agreed, unconsciously letting his hands fall to where his guns strapped to his belt. His intuition was picking at his brain at the feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s plotting now that Pekka is gone,” Inej made note of their surroundings. They were only a block from the Slat. Soon they’d be in the comfort of their home, able to bask in the relief they pulled their task off. A warm cup of tea by the fireplace before it came time for bed. Inej was looking forward to it.

But unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Nina suddenly froze, “Stop,” all movement seized, heads turning to the heartrender. Unease consumed them as they took in the sudden paleness of her appearance. “I hear heartbeats.” There was a subtle gulp, the woman adding in a low tone, “a lot of heartbeats.”

Tensing, they were met with the sounds of footsteps approaching from every angle. Inej pulled out her knives, as did Jesper with his guns. Wylan clutched his satchel to his chest, thinking of what he could use to help them out of this situation, though the odds were not looking good. Meanwhile, Kaz reversed his steps while the others spun around, the Crows forming a circle with their backs to one another, Kaz keeping space between him and Jesper. Allowing them a full view of the square.

They watched the herd of men step into the light. Revealing themselves with menacing eyes filled with vengeance. Kaz tensed, recognizing them as Pekka’s men.

Well the ones still loyal to the King of the Barrel. Several had already pledged their support to Kaz or took the chance to ditch town while they had the opportunity. Yet, here was a group of at least twelve, likely part of Pekka’s inner circle who’ve taken the actions of Kaz more personally. Those who refused to kneel. The young criminal should’ve known better than to expect a sudden shift in power would come easily to him.

“We have no business with you, gentlemen,” Kaz spoke with a level of calm that surprised even him. Deep down he was consumed with nerves seeing he and the Crows were severely outnumbered.

“Oh, but we do,” a gruff voice replied. Kaz’s eyes drifted to the owner, who’s hand mavuevered over his gun. “See, some of us are not too pleased with your little show tonight, Brekker. And we’ll be damned before claiming you as the King of the city.”

Jesper tilts his head slightly, whispering under his breath, “What do we do, boss?” Beside him Wylan was visibly freaking out. Nina raised her hands, ready to counter any attacks while Inej tightened the grip of her knives.

“This is it,” Kaz thought, clutching onto his cane. No ideas surfaced to help them escape. Accepting his time was up. Though he was going to fight for his Crows, the Bastard of the Barrel was ready to come to terms with his fate.

But before anyone could make the first room, a crack of lightning followed by its booming thunder shook the ground. Several flinched, including the crows, some of the Dime Lions stumbling by how close and sudden the element was to them. Rainfall began to pour down the once clear sky. Dark clouds covering the stars and skies.

The rain was thick, drenching everyone from head to toe. Their clothes became heavy. Had it not been for the skewing of their visibility, making them struggle to see where they were, they’d be annoyed by their state. But there were more important things at stake.

The storm made it hard to see. Only getting a glimpse of shapes and figures when flashes of lightning in the near distance hit the earth. Coupled with its thunder. Kaz barely could make out the enemy, bringing his cane up for any sudden attacks.

“What’s happening?” Wylan shouted, gurgling when the water hit mouth. “What do we do?”

“I-I--,” Kaz stuttered, the feeling of nausea swarming him at the cold, wet, rain hitting his face. It brought him back to the worst days of his life. Floating on top of cold, wet, bodies in the harbour, begging the Saints to save him. The man wanted to crawl away and hide. Yet the fear of not knowing what waited for them when the rain stopped kept him from falling to his knees in a panic.

“Hey! You there!” the same man from before shouted, Kaz squinting his eyes to see him raise his gun only to be thrown back by an invisible force of wind. His partner beside him went down next, though what hit him appeared to be a beam of light.

Kinda like a lightning bolt.

“What the hell was that?!” Inej shouted over the thunder.

‘A Squaller?’ Kaz thought to himself, watching another bout of wind sweep his oncoming attacker off their feet. He had not heard of another Grisha roaming the streets of Ketterdam. Surely if a squaller were inhabiting the area he’d know.

Using the butt of his cane Kaz knocked him out unconsious. When he glanced back up, his eyes landed on a cloaked figure standing on the roof of a nearby building. The rain made it impossible to make out their face. But judging by the way they moved their hands, and the fact his enemies were being bombarded by gusts of air, their savior was in fact an Ethereaki.

But what kind exactly?

At first Kaz believed they had to be a Squaller due to the wind. Yet, he then witnessed the rain shift direction, and water from a puddle shoot up to hit a man about to attack Wylan. A Tidemaker would better fit that description, however Kaz wasn’t aware of a Grisha able to control both air and water.

“I don’t know,” Jesper responded, shooting at an assailant he saw racing toward them, “But I’ve never been so happy for a thunderstorm as I am now.” At that moment Kaz realized nobody else noticed the mysterious person on the roof. His attention turned to Jesper beside him, oblivious to the help he was getting from a fellow Grisha. Turning back to the roof, expecting to see the cloaked individual, but they were gone.

As the fight commenced the storm ensued. Thunder overpowering the sound of pelting rain and gunshots. The Crows fought for their lives as the number of Dime Lions against them decreased. Nina managed to incapacitate several as did Jesper and Inej. The fight came to a climatic end with the last one standing was, quite, literally, hit with a lightning bolt causing the Crows to freeze where they stood.

Smoke filled the space, and when it cleared they were met with the mysterious being. Rain pelting down on them, however they seemed to pay no mind. As though it were a natural occurrence. It was still hard to see them. The streetlight candles had been blown out from the rain and wind, and the moon was covered by the clouds. Both those combinations obscured the face of their savior.

Nina raised her hands, ready to defend the group but Kaz motioned for her to stop, causing confusion amongst the rest. Who was this person and what did they want? And why was Kaz not doing anything?

“Well,” their voice, a feminine one at that, breached the once silent square. “That was entertaining if I’m being honest. Been a while since I’ve squabbled with angsty men,” she chucked, “but I was in dire need of practice.” Now hearing the woman speak clearly, they were able to identify her Ravkan accent. For Nina, her heart nearly stopped.

“I know that voice.” she felt the eyes of everyone, including the woman, on her. Hands lowering to her side, Nina's face etched into pure astonishment. Adding more confusion to the group who were at a loss of who this woman was.

“Oh!” The woman chuckled, not commenting on Nina’s words, “Apologies for the storm, let me just--,” they watched in stunned silence as her right hand rose, displaying a motion before the rain slowed and stopped altogether. Then with two fingers, she waved them around causing the clouds above to dissaperate, allowing the moon to shine down.

“Did she just--.” Jesper whispered to Inej, who’s expression resembled that of witnessing a miracle. “Can squallers summon thunderstorms? I thought that was a myth.”

Inej blinked rapidly, voice so low the others barely made out her reply. Tone in absolute awe, “Only one can.”

“One?” Kaz repeated, feeling a wave of unease beneath his skin.

Water from puddles splashed as the woman walked forward, stepping into the ray of light. The Crows, now able to see her fully, were greeted with her (y/h/c) hair and bearing dazzling grey eyes like the storm clouds she’d summoned. She appeared to be slightly older than the group, possibly by a few years. Then again Grisha were known to age slower than regular folk. For all they know she could be in her 50s. Look at the Darkling, who passed as a man in his early 40s to the naked eye but had lived for nearly 400 years.

Adorned in a deep grey kefta, the white and blue embroidery etched on resembled lightning bolts along with tiny drops of rain. It was unlike any kefta the Grisha wore. Those in the Ravka’s Second Army, with the exception of the Darkling, wore certain colored keftas and embroideries to signify their order. But to the knowledge of the Crows, no Grisha wore grey.

“Saints,” Nina gasped, jaw dropping slightly, causing the woman to smirk.

“Now, now,” she playfully tsked, “I’m not above swearing, but considering that applies to me….” her smirk never faltered, “I’m sure you can understand.”

Jesper’s head spun, looking between his comrades to see they were reacting the same way, “I’m sorry, are you saying that you’re--.”

Nina beat him to it, “Sankta Imber of the Drought.” Inej gasped, as did Wylan. The former repeated the name in wonder, falling to her knees in respect, “Sankta Imber….”

Kaz tightened his grip on his cane, mind racing to remember the tale behind the name. Who’s story was passed down from generation to generation for centuries. Who, like the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, was said to be either myth or once lived but suspected of perishing long ago.

Legends say that Sankta Imber of the Drought had been born in the century following the creation of the Fold. A farmer's daughter in the region of East Ravka, her family lived through the period where the country was stricken with a severe drought lasting over a hundred years, beginning not long after the Black Heretic disappeared. With no rain bringing water to the crops came a deadly famine. Hundreds of people and animals were lost, not only due to starvation and dehydration, but also illness. The economy in all of Ravka crumbled. Both States were fighting against each other for resources, as the food supply from East Ravka to West was now scarce. An increase in fires and dust bowls destroyed a lot of ecosystems, further deteriorating the country.

What was left of it that is.

There was little to no hope, with even prayers to the Saints to help them becoming meaningless words. Those still worshiping begged for a savior. The one who would bring the rain and storm. Ending the drought. Releasing them from the famine.

The idea a Squaller could summon a powerful storm was unheard of. Being able to bring forth powerful winds, rain, and possibly lightning and Thunder? Surely a Grisha of sorts would be only known by folklore. Especially given Tidemakers were the ones to control water.

Yet, it all changed one day as the 104th year of the drought approached.

“You’re more powerful than you think, Imber,” Baghra's stern voice echoed in the cave. Sitting opposite of her, with her head down and tear stains painting her cheeks, 15-year-old Imber Egorova made a sound Baghra could only assume was a whimper. “Denying it will do you no good. It will do this country no good.”

“How do you know?” The girl whispered, voice hoarse from crying following another gruesome 12 hour training day. “What makes me different from any other Squaller here?” She referred to the 20 other Squallers residing on the Little Palace grounds. Though some trained with the renowned Gisha teacher, none experienced the level of intensity Imber did.

“No Squaller here has shot someone 80 yards by their power during an exercise,” Baghra rebutted, causing Imber to wince at the memory. The reason why she was suddenly called to Baghra’s cave in the first place. From then on Imber barely got a lick of sleep or time to eat a proper meal.

The older woman gave a pointed look, “nor have they been able to summon electricity.” Ignoring Imbers stunned expression, she continued, “yes, girl, I know what you did when your sister’s heart stopped before you came here. Why your family was so willing to let you go after the testers proved you were Grisha,” Baghra leaned back in her chair, face void of emotion. “Ravka has not seen more than a few inches of rain since this drought began. No storms. And with the famine,” there was a light pause, “It’s claimed more lives than the Fold.”

Imber shuddered at the mention of Ravka’s darkened entity. Not wanting to think about its black abyss swimming with volcra.

“The point is, child,” Baghra captured her attention once more, “Besides the Sun Summoner, you could be the one to end part of Ravka’s suffering. But that will not happen if you cannot believe it yourself.”

Weeks shy of her 16th birthday, Imber received a letter from her father, which would change not only her world, but the one around. After contracting a bacteria from contaminated pond water, her mother and sister succumbed to a deadly illness after only a week. Her father had buried them on their land by the dead oak tree where they used to have picnics before Imber was taken to the Little Palace.

Distraught and riddled with unbearable pain, Imber collapsed to her knees in the middle of the courtyard, crumbling the letter in her hands. Her peers were silent, staring at her with sympathy. Unsure of what to say to the grieving teen, despite many knowing the exact feeling Imber was feeling.

Sorrow, anguish, regret. Never having the chance to correct wrongs or make memories with the loved onces they longed for. The cries of the Grisha filled the otherwise silent courtyard.

Suddenly, a rumble came from the sky..

Imber didn’t hear it over the sound of her sobs. Her companions, however, drew their attention upward, where they were greeted by a sight unimaginable. What once was a clear blue canvas, barely any clouds to begin with, transformed to that of a dark shadow. Wind, so powerful they thought a Squaller was responsible, nearly sent them off their feet.

“What’s happening?” A girl shouted, though they had difficulty hearing her due to the mix of rumbling overhead and breeze of wind.

“I don’t know!” the boy, a Tidemaker, beside her squinted, “Imber!” He lifted a hand to protect his eyes while focusing his view on the kneeled Grisha. A flash of light where her hands were plaed on the ground had him flinching. ‘What in the---.’ The spark occured once more. Chills filled his entire being as his eyes became saucers, falling to a whisper. “Saints above.”

Witnessing the sparks, an Inferni moved closer, ignoring the warning sent by the Tidemaker. “What is she doing?” His answer came by being blasted back by a gust of wind.

Imber let out a broken scream, head tilting back toward the sky as bolts of lightning released from her hands, igniting bouts of thunder in its wake. Gasps and shouts echoed around the Squaller from fellow Grisha and palace guards. The group behind her ran to find cover as the wind became too much, sending barrels and crates flying. Lightning and thunder, the duo reuniting as lost friends.

A sight to behold.

As the tears rolled down Imber’s cheeks, heavy rain soon replaced them. Drenching the lands of East Ravka for the first time in a hundred years.

For hours the girl remained kneeling on the grounds of the courtyard. Alone as everyone had seeked shelter within the Palace walls, letting the water from above coat her. The kefta she bore grew heavy. She paid no mind to it.

It wasn’t until she began to shiver from the freezing atmosphere that Imber retreated inside. Coming face to face with the reality of what transpired. As two guards escorted her to the throne room, Imber barely took notice of her peers watching the storm draw on from the windowsills. Some glanced at her in a mix of wonder, awe, and fear. Fear at the unknown, but wonder at what will be known.

Entering the throne room Imber was greeted by the King, Queen, Baghra, and the General of Ravka’s Second Army. Whereas the country’s monarchs were visibily bewildered at Imber, Baghra appeared impressed in comparison to the General’s excitement. Nerves consumed her on top of the immense grief Imber was experincing. Rain continued pelting the windows and roof of the Little Palace. Every once in a while, the occupants in the room flinched at the crack of thunder.

Upon making eye contact with the King, Imber bowed her head, curtseying as best she could with the weight of her soaked kefta. From there she underwent an hour of intense interrogation at the hands of the King and General. Baghra was questioned as well. Admitting she suspected the scale of Imber’s power but decided to stay quiet until the time came. The General, while pleased to know the world’s most powerful Squaller was among his ranks, voiced concern at the possibility of their enemies discovering her.

“Ravka has been praying for the day storms finally wash over her,” his tone was calm, almost haunting. Imber couldn’t look away as he moved toward her, tear stains painting her cheeks. “To save them from this wretching drought. Bring an end to this famine that has wiped away countless lives. Rain has touched grounds for the first time in over a century, Miss. Egorova. The people of Ravka are going to celebrate you. Erect statues on your name for being the hope they prayed for all these years.” he halted directly in front of her, keeping hold of her gaze it sent another wave of chills not relating to the cold clothes Imber wore.

“You are now the symbol of this dark period coming to its end. You are Sankta Imber of the Drought.”

“The storm lasted a fortnight, dispersing across Ravka’s lands until every inch had been touched by lightning. Yet the rain continued for months on end after the winds disappeared,” Nina recited the story etched into her brain. The crows silent as they took in her words. “Many say it was the raw grief of Imber losing her family that the storms were so strong. The constant rain marked as a symbol of her time in mourning.” The crows familiar with loss could relate. Kaz, Jesper, and Inej looking elsewhere than the Grisha.

Nina let out a breath, “Now whenever a powerful storm appears in Ravka, locals believe it to be Sankta Imber reminding them they will never experience a drought again. Famine will never touch their lands so long as she remains. Rain will be their protector, and she will be its champion.”

At the end of the Heartrender’s tale, Imber clasped her hands behind her back. “Nice to see my reputation still precedes me after all these years.” Chuckling, she took another step toward the group, “Still odd to hear myself spoken like a myth when I still live and breathe the same air as you.”

Again, no words could describe what the Crows were feeling at that moment. No one however was more shocked than Nina herself. And her reasons were far more than just being in the presence of a living Saint. “But you…”

Imber’s smirk turned to a soft smile, “Been some time since our last acquaintance, Nina Zenik.”

All eyes turned to the brunette, Kaz the first to speak, “What?” Not only was his mind racing, but now it was full of questions and doubts. They knew each other? But judging by Nina’s reaction, it was not all that meets the eye. She was stunned beyond belief like they were. “Care to explain, Zenik?”

Tensing by the tone of his voice, Nina sent him a light glare, “I don’t know her as Sankta Imber,” her eyes returned to the Grisha, this time showcasing betrayal as the memory of the woman in a blue kefta like her fellow Squallers appeared in her mind. “But as Commander Y/n Tempestasov of the Second Army.” Everyone felt the shift in the air at the mention of the Darkling’s army.

Why was one of the Darkling’s soldiers, a Saint at that, coming to them in the middle of the night? Traveling across the sea and saving them from Pekka’s men. There had to be a reason.

Kaz tightened the grip he had on his cane. Thinking back to events of the past several months. He would’ve recognized Imber, or Y/n, whatever she wanted to be called--at the Winter’s Fete. The kefta was unique; it would've captured anyone’s attention. As a powerful Squaller, Kirigan surely wanted her close to his side. Yet the Grisha had not been present on the skiff nor did Alina mention anything of meeting another living Saint.

Then there was the fact that the legends of Sankta Imber of the Drought were from nearly 300 years ago. It was believed she had died or dissapeared roughtly 20 years after she brought the storm to Ravka.

Meaning she’s been hiding in plain sight for centuries. A ghost among the living. Playing the role of a Second Army soldier under a false name to preserve her identity.

Another chuckle brought Kaz out of his thoughts, “Allow me to fill in the blanks, Crows,” Imber smirked at their reaction, “yes I know who you are. Do not doubt Nina’s loyalty--the last time we saw each other I was a different person. Roughly eight years if I’m correct,” bringing a hand to her chin, the Saint acted like she was deep in thought, “You’d only just arrived at the Little Palace before I escaped.”

“Escaped?”

Imber retained her posture, more serious than the initial laid back she had presented, “You’ve witnessed the evil General Kirigan is capabale of first hand.” they stayed silent, but each of their expressions faltered. “I discovered the scale of it a long time ago, after he made me a prisoner of the Little Palace under the guise of a trainer.” Nina bowed her head, the memory of Commander Y/n paroling the grounds where the Etherealki trained. She always appeared detached, but was kind to the young Grisha who had not yet succumbed to the corruption of the Darkling. “He was responsible for everyone believing I had died or dissapeared. After instilling fear in me at the thought of being captured by enemies, he had me locked in the caves of the Little Palace.” Inej let out a gasp, face consorting with sadness.

Imber shrugged, “sooner or later people stopped searching for me. Unaware I was close the entire time despire my storms becoming a blanket over Ravka for years. I was all but the myth you’ve heard.” Turning her head to Nina, Imber offered a soft smile, “It was years before he let me out. When he did I was named Commander under a false name and trained Grisha for centuries. Changing my name each time he did because someone asked too many questions and we had to clean up his mess. Y/n Tempestasov is the recent name of the many I’ve gone by. Frankly it’s my favorite if I’m being honest.”

“Would you prefer it if we called you that?” Wylan raised his hand, resulting in a side eye from Kaz at his formality. The Saint, however, smiled at him, “I’d like that. Imber Egorova…” she trailed off, connecting her gaze with Kaz as though she read him like a book. “She is of the past.”

Ignoring the weight on his chest, knowing damn well what the Saint was refering to, Kaz changed the subject. “Enough sentiment. You still haven’t said why you’re here.” The sound of his cane echoed on the pavement when he moved closer to her. “The Darkling might be dead but how are we to trust you’re not doing his bidding.”

The woman scoffed, obviously offended by the assumption, “Believe me, I hate the man more than anyone. Probably more than you and Alina combined.”

Jesper made a face of shock, voicing what they all thought, “You know Alina?”

“She sent me,” Y/n mused, shocking them more when she added, “And Kirigan is alive.”

“How is that possible?” Inej wondered aloud, unable to grasp the news.

“Turns out his own creation did not kill him after all. Instead he used merzost to create shadow monsters. Monsters that can only be destroyed with a certain blade that, like me, is also a legend.”

“Neshyenyer,” Kaz narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to call bluff. Y/n smirked in response.

“That is where you come in. We have some mutual friends, and they sent me to retrieve you lot to find the sword. Said you were the best of the best.” Hand going into her pocket, she removes a rolled parchment tied with a ribbon. “For your cooperation, the King of Ravka plans to generously compensate you.” She held it out to Kaz, “For you, Dirtyhands.”

He ignored the name, deciding not to question the depth of her knowledge on him and the Crows, and instead took the parchment. Once unfolded, he read the message inked onto its surface, detailing the extent of the mission and amount of kruge to be paid. He stopped at the name signed at the very end, ‘Nikolai Lantsov.’

‘Mutual friends,’ he remembered she said. Intuition telling him it was not only Alina and Mal the Saint referred to. Only person Kaz recalled that could likely be said aquaintance was a certain privateer.

Footsteps wandering away had the man look up, finding Y/n to take her leave. Kaz and Jesper flanked to his sides, the whole group watching her depart. “Come along, Crows,” she called out, the playfulness returning. “A storm is approaching.” light rain began to fall once more, followed by the sound of thunder in the distance. Kaz pictured the smile on her face by the tone of her voice. “And we’ve got work to do.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x fem!reader #inej ghafa #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa imagine #jesper fahey #jesper fahey imagine #nina zenik #nina zenik imagine #six of crows #SOC #six of crows imagine #grishaverse #grisha!reader #Saint!reader #grishaverse fanfic

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serpentthecrow · 2 years

Text

Sleepy time with the crows

the crows(separately) x reader🖤

Summary: just some fluffy headcannons with our favourite gangsters

Warnings : big fluff, cursing, plushies

A/n: wrote this instead of a Jesper confession fic that got deleted. I also included the plushies each of them have, so enjoy!

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Kaz:

One might assume there will not be much to say, it's not true however

If Kaz finds u trustworthy enough to even sleep in the same room with you, consider urself lucky af

Kaz doesn't really sleep much, just for a couple hours, it's assumably another trick of his, how he wakes up

When he ACTUALLY needs sleep, he drinks Camomile tea

I picture Kaz's bedside table is actually a stack of books, and there are several more stacks on the other side of the bed, so he reads quite often

He's genuinely scared to fall asleep due to his nightmares sometimes

After getting comfortable with you, he will slowly inch by inch move your beds closed to eachother everyday, until you notice

Whispers 'fuck u ' to the moon when it shines in his window

Just lays flat on his back and sleeps (how?)

Secretly has a crow plushie he got from Jesper under his bed

Jesper

The biggest cuddle bear ever

He will wrap you up with his arms and legs like a rope, and will not let go even under the use of a fucking crowbar

It's his routine to kiss his revolvers good-night before going to bed

Not before checking himself out in the mirror to look good and ready for a night intruder

REFUSES to buy a bit bigger bed, no matter if your savings could buy a bed that even majesty King Nikolai.*million titles*.. could hardly afford

The secret meaning is that Jes doesn't want you escaping from him to the other side of the big mattress

He'd rather fall off the little cot you have

Forgets to take off his rings

HAS a goat plushie

Inej

Inej is pretty straightforward- lay down, sleep if you can

challenge: try not to stab urself in the eye by the knife she has under her pillow while turning in ur sleep

Could use some protective cuddles if she trusts u

Prays before going to sleep

Bed time= heaven time. Main reason?she lets her hair down when going to sleep

Be prepared to do some careful and slow comforting for her at 1am

U will get urself stabbed if Ur not careful

Light sleeper, can be out like a light tho, after a whole day of climbing roofs

Fuzzy socks.

Has a teddy bear

Nina

U won't fall asleep with her. I swear

Is the type of person to talk and talk and talk about random things for hours

And when u think she's already asleep, ur suddenly hear "I would never kiss a dude who eats dogs"

Eats a ton of food before bed

*cough*like me*cough*

Loves bedtime stories and singing lullabies in Ravkan- recieving or giving, doesn't matter to her

Back tracing

Has an assortment of plushies all around her side of the bed and if one is missing, she will start a war

Sleeps on her stomach

Or on u

Sleeps naked by choice

Cuddly little witch

Matthias

Wrapped around u for 'protective' reasons

Tells u stories, myths and traditional legends from Fierda

Also prays to Djel, even tho he wipes his hands after finishing and exclaims he doesn't have to really

Drinks weird amount of water

Sometimes lays in bed with shoes on - sinner

Never saw a book in his life

Normal duvets? What is that? Did I hear fur?

Wake him up. I dare you. Try it.

Extra vulnerable before bed

Don't make him sad at the time pls

LOVES when it rains at night (I think they all love that, except ONE)

Owns a tiny white wolf plushie, it's under his pillow if u wanna know.

Wylan

Certified cutie

The adorable matching pijama sets he wears

Will probably draw.

No need to say he won't read before bed

The little spoon

Warm milk with honey melted in it is his to go drink for bed(try it, knocks u out)

The bed hair(not so different from his normal hair lol)

Has a dinamite plushie he sleeps with all the time

Is the one who doesn't like when it rains, because what If the rain turns into a thunderstorm?

ABSOLUTELY HATES THUNDERSTORMS

They scare the shit outta him

The sleepy mumbles... Help

whispers good night back and forth with u until one of u fall asleep

fluffy and smol bean

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A/n: Ahh turned out better then I first thought. Lemme know what u think! If you'd like to requests something, my requests are open, please read my pinned post before requesting, there you'll find rules but also the fandoms I write for ❤️❤️

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swanimagines · 2 months

Text

CHARMING COCKTAILS | JESPER FAHEY

Summary: Imagine being a bartender at the Crow Club and always flirting with Jesper.

It was a game night again. The club was bustling with life, customers keeping you busy behind the counter, pouring drink after drink as jazz music played in the background. Laughter and cheers filled the space, as well as chatter and glasses and coins clinking.

“My favourite bartender is on shift again,” Jesper’s voice traveled to your ears as you pushed another glass of kvas in front of your current customer. You turned to look at the sharpshooter, sliding in to serve him next.

“And my favourite customer is here again,” you returned the flirt, leaning over to him, closer than you would lean into your other customers. “You’re always a delight to see.”

“I would say the same about you.” Jesper replied, leaning closer to you too. Five inches closer and you would be kissing. Saints.

You pulled back, taking a shot glass behind the counter as you asked, “And what would my delightful customer have?”

“Anything, if it’s as intoxicating as you are,” Jesper smirked. “Maybe something… spicy.”

You laughed. “Spicy? What a coincidence, because I’ve been experimenting with a spicy new cocktail. You could be my first tester, after myself of course. I wouldn’t want to poison you.”

“Bring it on,” Jesper nodded, looking at you as you prepared the drink. Your eyes scanned around the area every once in a while, before they landed on Jesper again for a moment. In a few minutes, you had done the cocktail and pushed it in front of him.

“Careful, it’s got some kick, but it also has some undeniable charm,” you explained as you watched Jesper pick it up.

“Sounds like my kind of drink,” Jesper laughed, giving it a sniff before he downed it and his face contorted for a moment before he opened his eyes. “Wow.”

“How is it?” you asked, your brows furrowed in a slight concern.

Jesper grinned, looking at the glass for a moment before he placed it in front of him again. “I think I just found my new regular drink.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Oh, good. For a moment there, I thought it’s too strong.”

Jesper shook his head, the taste of it still lingering in his mouth. “No, it’s perfect. What it’s called again?”

You felt blood traveling up to your cheeks as you looked up to him. “Sharpshooter.”

Jesper blinked once, twice, before his mouth opened slightly. “You named it after me?”

You nodded, laughing softly. “Well, I did say it has some kick with undeniable charm. So, yes. I based it off your vibes.”

Jesper’s eyebrows shot up, before his smirk returned. “Undeniable charm?”

You smiled at him, your face burning hot before you looked over and saw some frustrated looking customers at the other side of the counter, and hurried there once again. And for the rest of your shift, you and Jesper switched more glances that you usually did. You had flirted with each other for so long, but you both knew you wanted more – and maybe you and your little drink experiment had guided the way.

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Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

#jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse #female reader #reader insert #my works

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sileaz · 1 year

Text

Gemstone ✦ J.F.

✦ Jesper Fahey x Fem! Lantsov! Reader

━━━━━ ( SYNOPSIS. ) Your monotonous life as the youngest Lantsov takes an unexpected turn when, one evening, you come face to face with a man⏤ "a Crow," he insists⏤who seems determined to steal a mysterious jewel.

5K words ✦ Fluff

In a distant province, at the crossroads of several lands—Fjerda to the north and Shu Han to the south—stood a kingdom both adored and despised: Ravka. The few lonely souls, strangers to this land, who wished to cross its borders had to face the dark horror of the fold or the unpredictability of the True Sea when you did not come from the East.

If, luckily, your feet managed to tread the paved ground of the capital, Os Alta, then your gaze would be instantly drawn to the castle overlooking the city. It dominated the land, its tallest tower almost touching the sun as it was high in the sky, sending shade over the streets which, observed from above, took the form of a gigantic star. In the outer area, where peasants and simple souls lived, the houses piled up in a dancing procession of bricks, roofs, and whimsical walls. Small, large, squares, long… none were similar. Each house seemed to have been carefully shaped by the own hands of those who lived behind its walls.

One needed to venture into the heart of the city for the buildings to become more structured, losing their charm but gaining in size and prestige. Colours also disappeared, replaced by the monotonous grey of the stone, sometimes adorned with the shine of gold but without ever provoking in the retina of the passers-by a flamboyant explosion similar to those triggered by the peripheric villages. The Ravkan elite were jealous of the beautiful sight they sometimes saw on their way out of the city, separated in their carriages.

Flowers.

They covered the villages. At every corner of the streets, of the houses, the flowers decorated and coloured the hamlets with a palette of hues which could be seen nowhere else. They were an ode to greenery, colour, and joy. Its inhabitants spent their days telling each other the news of the day without worrying about the horrors that this world had to offer. It was as if the Fold had not touched them. Perhaps they wished to hide all the fear that poverty and the uncertainty of tomorrow could bring in this blooming spectacle.

Roses, hydrangeas, cornflowers, honeysuckles, lilies… all were there, adding their colours to the great and ubiquitous floral harmony, which Os Alta’s centre could only envy, as did the prettiest flower in the kingdom, trapped in the colour-and-flowerless castle. Lovely, radiant, delicate; she was a bud still waiting to be picked.

For gilding blinds the sorrow, no one knew that, enclosed in the top of her golden tower—the highest in the castle—her petals were fading one by one. Slowly. Painfully.

The sound of the piano resonated the room. It was heard, it was understood and appreciated. It made itself understood by all those present except by the person who played it. You could see your fingers moving with grace and delicacy. You were not feeling the music, you were enduring it. For you, this was not a melody, it could not possibly become one. Those were only sounds; sounds without any poetry, nor any meaning.

In the middle of this symphony, suddenly, a false note.A false note that sounded better than a note perfectly played. A false note that reminded you that nothing could be perfect — despite what your mother endeavoured herself to tell you. You wanted to smile, smile at the joy that this mistake had caused you. But you held back, keeping your back straight, your gaze fixed on the music sheet and its lines stained with shapes, of which you understood only a quarter.

“Start again.”

The voice was carried away by the draught, but nevertheless, it reached your ears: a low voice, a firm tone—annoyance. Just like that, your hands began to move again, to move to the rhythm of the notes, without any fault. The sound escaped from the strings pinched by the hammers, encompassing the room in a musical trance in which you did not participate. Your gestures, alike that of a puppet controlled by strings, stopped abruptly when, at last, the final three notes resonated several minutes later.

“You’ll play it until it reaches perfection. It is out of the question to pass for fools because of you at the gala.”

“Yes, mother.”

Receiving a positive comment from your genetrix was impossible. This lack of acknowledgment hurt you more than you wanted to admit, but no one knew about this. Your mother—the Queen—had, after all, done an exceptional job when she had taught you the art of hiding your emotions.

“A dignified queen must always appear in control of the situation, even if she is not.”

“A respectable queen must not let her emotions supplant her wisdom. They are detrimental and useless.”

These sentences were simple excerpts that made up the long list of manners you had to learn. For your parents, most specifically your mother, these were the most important thing to remember. They had focused on instructing their values. They had tried to turn you into their perfect little pet. They had not noticed how they had deprived you of freedom. They had grown attached to perfection, even more than to their own daughter.

These pieces of advice had fixed themselves in your mind. You didn’t let any feelings appear. Never an ounce of fear, anger, sadness could be seen on your face. Never once you questioned this method. Never once you thought that, perhaps, humankind needed it. Never once you thought that perhaps, it was vital for humans to show their emotions.

The most painful thing was to see that this did not apply to your brothers. Nikolai had been allowed to travel at sea, becoming a privateer guided by the wind. Vasily, when he was alive, had had the chance to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh, alcohol, life.

The sound of many steps, followed by one of a closing door was the warning signal to drop this mask that had become too heavy for you; this illusion of a model princess, the worthy heir to the throne of Ravka. The citizens thought they had a strong woman in front of them, ready to lead their destiny to glory as your father had tried and failed to do.

They were wrong.

You were none of that. Sometimes, your thoughts would take you on a journey into a parallel world, a world in which royalty did not flow through your veins, a world in which luxury was only one thing you could dream of.

You stood still for a while, staring at those black and white keys; these keys that contradicted the saying, “life is not just black or white.” And it was true. Life was not reduced to two side. Life was an expanse of hues, unique to each individual. Most people had a colourful expanse, similar to the various flowers adorning the village’s streets. Some, more melancholic, held an expanse of dark tones, as dark as the Fold. You, however, had only ever experienced an expanse of grey. Your life had taken the form of a repetitive and boring rhythm, a rhythm that did not make you sing, a rhythm that did not make you dance, a rhythm that made you want to sit on a chair and stay motionless.

Resuming touch with reality, you looked around. Only silence answered you. No maid, no valet, but most of all, no mother, something that relaxed you. Your shoulders, until then tensed, fell back into their natural place, just like the curvature of your back, until then so straight that it had made you feel acute pain in your kidneys.

It was a routine you cherished, that of being able to remove for a few moments this mask of the perfect student, to be able to cut the puppet’s strings. The unfortunate thing, and above all the most painful, however, was knowing that these threads and this mask would control you again in a few hours. Oh, how much you hated this life. If only you could run away, your existence would immediately become simpler. You envied criminals and their lawless world. No more responsibilities, no more orders, no more parents and their lack of empathy. Nothing more than freedom.

How beautiful it was to dream...

You waited for a few moments, finding solace in this silence which, while some might have described it as deafening, differed so much from the sound of this damned piano. That was maybe why you thought of it as beautiful. Standing up was a difficult task to achieve; no matter the season, day, time, your maids persisted in covering your body with the most delicate fabrics and intriguing knots, the beauty of the outfit had always prevailed over comfort, forcing you to keep a smile on your face while your chest was constantly compressed.

When, finally, you headed for your quarters, walking with a steady and assured step, you admired the windows and the beautiful landscape they offered you. The sunset had been magnificent and the moon, almost full, had risen, pouring its silvery light over the plain, the mountain and the mounds that rose here and there.

During your journey among the huge corridors empty of any presence, you observed the bindings of the walls for which you could not pretend care. The people your mother and brothers invited, governors, diplomats from neighbouring lands, were ecstatic at every detail of these walls, floors. They admired the finesse with which the sculptor had carved the stones, the candlesticks covered in gold and the precision of the carpenter who had created the dressers.

All you could see was bricks, candles, and wood. Nothing less, nothing more. There was nothing worth babbling in admiration, after all, it was obvious that these people possessed excessive castles and other dwellings adorned with the same, if not better, attributes. It was only the result of the sheer hypocrisy in which the court of the king, your father, had bathed. Among this crowd, all wanted to be thought highly of, thus laughing falsely at every word, before criticizing those with whom they had just discussed.

However, you were careful to not share your observations with these people, who would laugh with contempt at each of your words, wondering how such an ungrateful and uneducated girl would become the queen.

The castle was plunged into darkness with one exception; on the stones the yellow glow of the still illuminated candlesticks glowed. Your hands caressed the soft fabric of your white silk dress out of sheer nervousness. The wind was howling, crashing against the windows and trees. Chills ran down your spine. The grip on the fabric not loosening, you picked up the pace, hoping to get to your room as soon as possible. Something was terrifying about being alone in this vastness.

Your trembling pupils grew larger as the candlelight dimmed. You felt that the temperature of the castle had suddenly dropped, your whole body beginning to shiver. The silence that you had enjoyed earlier had been broken, disturbed by whispers, footsteps that seemed to become louder. Passing by the throne room, your whole body froze when your eye caught something abnormal.

The door was ajar.

That had never happened before, you were sure of it. In all the moments that made up your miserable life, never had you seen this door open at night. The castle guards made sure to lock it every night, before beginning their rounds. This room was only open to the public on very rare occasions; even yourself could count on your fingers the number of times your feet had treaded the tiled floor. Of course, the gala was approaching fast, but why start preparations in the middle of the night? It was complete nonsense.

Deciding that it would be a wise decision to check what was going on, you approached the carved and gilded door, full of apprehension.

You did not believe in all the nonsense that the old madwoman of the village uttered all day long, this lady whom all the inhabitants had praised for her talents as an oracle. There was nothing more ridiculous than thinking of having power over the future yet so uncertain and anything else mystical. However, and as much as you hated to admit it, as you stood, ready to open that door, you could only trust your instinct. Something didn’t feel right.

Trembling, your fingers wrapped themselves around one of the handles, ready to push it to glimpse inside. With your gaze fixed on your action, it was impossible for you to notice the human silhouette that merged with yours.

“Hello there.”

A bloodcurdling scream resonated in the castle. Yours.

“Shush, princess. It would be a shame to get caught. Don’t you think?”

A hand was pressed against your mouth, forcing you to swallow back your protests. Pupils trembling, heart beating fast, your first reaction was to struggle. Your assailant took the blows without flinching as if your kicks were just a caress. Many tears flowed down your cheeks. Fear slowly crept into your veins, like a snake crawling through a deserted forest, not wanting to be spotted by potential prey.

The only exception being that, here, you were the prey.

What was going to happen to you? Was this how your life was going to end, at the hands of a criminal? The latter loosened his grip on your waist, but while you saw an opportunity to escape, your ambitions were completely destroyed when he, instead, imprisoned your wrists. The man pulled you into the room with him before closing the door, which you were sure awoke the whole castle.

"Sorry princess, but I need you to stay quiet a little longer.”

A candle was lit, illuminating the face of the man who would surely be responsible for your death. You felt your cheeks warm at the sight of man. Tall and graceful, his features exuded a mix mischievousness and innocence—what a joke, you thought. A slight mocking but sweet smile was addressed to you. A smile so beautiful it must have been carved by the sun itself. He was beautiful, even ethereal. Never had your father’s pretenders reached the level of beauty you were now facing. His curly black hair fell before dark eyes, sparkling of malice. Bowing, he grabbed your hand to lay a kiss on it, a gift from his pink and thin lips.

"My name is Jesper, princess. It is an honour to meet the one who makes the entire kingdom swoon,” he winked.

“The honour is not mutual. Unhand me at this instant, thief.”

“Ouch, careful with your words, princess! I’m not a thief. I’m a Crow,” he insisted.

You had heard about this name. Nikolai had mentioned it in one of his many letters. You could not remember the exact term he had used to describe them, but there was no doubt that crime was a byword for it.

It was just your luck to be faced with a member of one of the Ketterdam gangs.

For the first time in many months, a dose of adrenaline rushed in your veins. For the first time in many years, the excitement of being a part of an adventure—even though you were the victim — rushed in your veins. For the first time in your life, you felt alive.

You were pathetic, you knew it, walking into the lion's den so simply. Perhaps it was because you so desperately wished to live and feel, even fear. Perhaps it was because he had been the only one in several years to speak to you with a semblance of emotions in his voice, even if it was malice. This tone changed from the contemptuous one used by all those with whom you had been forced to converse.

This man, you did not know him, had just spoken to you as a normal person, if we ignored the excessive use of “princess.” So, yes, maybe this man—a strange character—, who had just broken in the castle if we were to judge the dust on his hands and face, should have been reported to the guards from the moment his hand had met yours… That should have been his destiny, yes, but you could not bring yourself to do it.

“I demand you to immediately let go of my hand, sir,” you repeated, for he had seemed deaf to your order the first time.

He did so, but not without caressing your skin which he found to be as soft as a plum. The harmonious features that made up your face were royal, worthy of a queen. You were one of the most beautiful sculptures of beauty, a faithful allegory of the saints. Jesper could not look away from your figure. He found your beauty almost poetic as it told a story. On your skin, he saw the expression line caused by excessive and forced laughter. In your eyes, he could see the redness caused by repressed tears. The image you sent back was that of a masterpiece of celestial and melancholy.

All these rumours, those which spoke of an heiress with beauty as pure as a Saint were true.

After straightening his posture, the shooter dusted off his clothes. This particular gesture caused you to draw your attention to them. The black suit adorning his body made you frown, confirming your thoughts. An outfit like this had no place in this castle.

"Who are you, and what is the reason for your presence here, sir?”

A smile lit up his face as he approached you—making your breath hitch at the same time. What a strange man, you thought. He didn’t seem to care about anything, not even the fact that a single word coming out of your mouth could lead him to death. His step was light, giving the impression that he was floating rather than walking. With one hand, he grabs a strand of your hair, wriggling it around his index finger. Two mischievous eyes met yours.

To say you were surprised at this closeness with a stranger was an understatement. Wanting to keep you pure for your husband, your mother had strictly forbidden you to approach men, no matter their age, without a chaperone. Since childhood, your thoughts had been occupied by the responsibilities of being queen, the future that awaited you, never had you had time to find a moment to let your imagination flow to men. This land was totally unknown for you.

That’s why you didn't understand what was happening to you.

Why had your heart suddenly started to beat wildly when the scents of tobacco and musk, an exquisite combination, had reached your senses?

“I already told you,” a sly smile appeared on his face, “The name’s Jesper. The prettiest member of the Crows. As for my presence here… I am looking for a particular object, a gemstone if I may add.” He refrained from saying more. Kaz would kill him.

It was as if someone had just poured a bucket full of ice water on your body. A grimace formed on your face, a face that, you hated to admit, when you were angered, took on features that were known to belong to your mother. Your hand abruptly put an end to his touch by pulling his finger out of your hair. Two steps backwards were taken before an accusatory finger was pointed towards him.

"If you think I will let you steal my brother’s crown or his sceptre, then you’re absolutely wrong. You must leave before I warn the guards about your arrival and how you manhandled me.”

“It won’t be necessary, sweetheart,” he replied, starting once again to play with your hair. He admired for a few moments the strands against which his fingers were slipping, they shone so much that he could have confused them with silk. You swatted his hand away, huffing. This man was slowly but surely pissing you off. "The gemstone will already be too far away for it to be recovered.”

Impossible. The guards had been chosen amongst the bravest and strongest men in Ravka. It was not a wretched criminal—his clothes made him look like one—that was going to counter that. He was alone, there were dozens of them. You shared your thoughts with him, scoffing at how ridiculous and overconfident he sounded.

"What is this jewel, anyway?” you went on, annoyance slowly increasing. “It must be small if you think its disappearance will not be noticed.”

He imprisoned between his long fingers your chin, which he directed upwards, before plunging his gaze into yours. His pupils were unstable, constantly going back and forth on your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your hair…

You were really beautiful, ethereal even, he thought.

This man—that you had never heard of—was watching, even scrutinizing you, so intensely that you broke the eye contact, embarrassed. With his simple glance, the man had just sent the immeasurable number of lessons given by your mother flying. Even if it was impossible to hide the erratic beat of your heart and the warmth of your cheeks, you tried to maintain a neutral expression.

The words he articulated were spoken in a soft but mischievous voice, in the same tone that someone who would have taken to tell a secret.

"It’s the most beautiful gemstone in the kingdom. It is said that its beauty exceeds that of a pure diamond. Many wish to make it theirs; hypnotized at the thought of seeing this mysterious treasure with their own eyes. It is however inaccessible, enclosed between the walls of this castle. Only the most reckless tried to overcome this obstacle, but no one had succeeded. No one until me.”

"I… I am… not sure I understand what you may be talking about, Mr. Jesper.” Your voice was trembling, by the Saints, why was it trembling?

He shrugged, reassuring you that you would soon understand what his words meant. Looking around, assessing the room in which you were both still standing, his gaze finally landed on a small door at the back, next to the imposing throne. You swallowed when you understood where his eyes were focused. In this room was the wanted gemstone, worth millions of kruge. If by misfortune, this Jesper, whoever he was, managed to gain access to this room, your mother would have his head and yours with it.

"You cannot do that.” The façade you were trying to keep intact was starting to crack, its bases weakening at each of his words. It would collapse soon, for sure. Nevertheless, you had to hold it together until he was no longer in front of you. It was out of the question for him to see how his mere presence was managing to destabilize you.

"It isn’t in there. Though I might have to return one day. I could use some diamonds or even rubies. I’m not picky. Both suit my complexion, he sassed.”

What a boor!

The way he behaved triggered in you a fire that was increasingly becoming more difficult to contain. You were bubbling with anger. Didn’t this man understand what his presence here meant? Didn’t he understand how dangerous it was for him, for you? Frowning, fists clenched so strongly that your nails had made crescent shapes appear in your palms, you tried to stay calm. However, something in you snapped when he had the nerve to laugh.

"Get out! I said get out!”

Your cry was so loud that he recoiled several steps, his hands held up.

“Wow, calm down princess.”

The feeling of having your face on fire becoming disagreeable, you breathed slowly, a hand on it to calm you down. The beating of your heart resonating in your ears, you did not hear the few patting that sounded strangely like footsteps. It was only when the thief approached you, catching your hand in his, that you did realize the threat that was advancing faster and faster, always getting a little closer to its prey. You two.

Suddenly, many sounds of metal friction were heard in the silence of the castle, before shouted orders resonated, they had been pronounced so precisely that they could only be uttered by those who regularly surveyed these grounds.

The guards.

Your wide eyes crossed those of the man. The latter, frightened, stared in front of him, a hand on the holster on his belt, trying to determinate how long it would take these men to reach you. By the sound of their armours, it would not take long. Shaking his head, his thoughts converged in the same direction: he had to protect you—you were precious cargo, after all. Not that you knew.

Kaz would have his head if he were to scuttle the heist.

A profanity was muttered; it being a word you couldn’t even bear pictured in your thoughts. Without you being able to understand what was going on, your body found itself placed without any delicacy on a shoulder clad in black clothes.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’m a renowned gentleman in Ketterdam.”

“Ketterdam?!”

Jesper began to run at full speed to one of the nearest windows, mysteriously already opened. He must have broken in through here, you concluded. Looking behind him, the man hurried to jump off the ledge when his eyes caught sight of the armed men’s horde dressed in armour.

Ignoring your screams, and the blows your little fists dealt to his back, he reaffirmed his grip on you before jumping, trying his best to protect you as much as possible from the impact.

The flower field softened your landing.

The eyes that you had closed under fear began to filter the moonlight again. The incomprehension could be seen on your face. If he had had the intelligence to steal his oh so precious gemstone and leave without a word, everything would have gone well. It wouldn’t have been difficult for you to make up a lie about your presence in this room.

After all, lies were nothing new to you, they were constantly spilling from your lips. “Yes, I’m fine. Yes, I’m glad to be here. Yes, I can’t wait to become the queen.” Finding an alibi would have been a breeze and would have allowed the thief to escape safely. But, in the name of the Saints! Why did he drag you into this? Now his chances of survival had just been reduced to nothing and you were cold.

In the middle of the chaos that were your thoughts, you could not help but notice something, however. Watching his pockets, nothing seemed to resemble near or far to a jewel.

“Where’s that famous gemstone? Tell me this mess wasn’t caused for nothing.”

“It’s right there, sweetheart.” Not waiting any longer, he took your hand, dragging you through the field of flowers, moving you further and further away from the castle. “Hurry up before the kingdom learns that their precious princess is gone.”

Soon you reached Os Alta’s outskirts.

Your eyes looked around, admiring with almost childlike curiosity the greenery that surrounded you. Stopping, forcing Jesper to do the same, you crouch in the grass, unconcerned about getting your dress dirty. Your eyes wide open, sparkling with happiness, fixed themselves on a flower with red petals. Slowly, your index came to caress the sweetness of this little gift that nature had honoured your kingdom with. One tear flowed, then the other, falling delicately on one of the petals, a morning dew ahead of time.

For the first time, you saw and touched a real flower that was much more beautiful that what you had imagined the windows of the castle. For the first time, you could admire nature in its most beautiful form, you could be part of this painting and not just have to look at it knowing that it would never become a reality.

Watching the delicate features of the man who had just taken your hand to help you get up, gently caressing it with his thumb, you laugh. For the first time in your life, a real laugh shook your body, lodged tears of joy in your eyes. For the first time in your life, you felt free. For the first time in your life, you took your courage with both hands, ignoring the voice of your mother who tormented your thoughts, and stood on tiptoe to land a delicate kiss on Jesper's cheek, near his lips.

There was a silence that caused your heart to miss a beat. Did you just ruin everything? Perhaps you were deluding yourself? God, you could already hear your mother yelling at you, and the court laughing. Your cheeks tinged with red by embarrassment, you desperately tried to get away from him, wanting to preserve the last spark of dignity you had but you could not do such thing, already his arm had imprisoned your waist and his hand your cheek. Without your brain being able to apprehend the rest, his lips landed delicately on yours, but they immediately withdrew, so quickly that you thought you had imagined their warmth. A chaste kiss, which sent your thoughts into unspeakable chaos. With wide eyes, red face, you tried to hide the latter in the man’s chest shaken by his laughter.

“We’ll do more of that later, Jewel. For now, we need to get moving or Kaz will definitely have my head and I need it to kiss you.”

Suddenly, in the grey hue that had summed up your whole life, drops of paint fell. They fell by dozens. Red. Yellow. Even green. A real summer shower whose raindrops painted the air, your soul, your heart in colours all brighter than the other. It was a splendid picture of a field of flowers that appeared in your thoughts. In the midst of these tasks of colour, of cheerfulness, two silhouettes ran, their hands intertwined; above them, a crow loomed, almost like a protector.

218 notes · View notes

thesuntomyshadows · 2 months

Text

Jesper: So how did you find out where he hid the gemstone?

Kaz: I asked him nicely.

Y/N: You grabbed him by the collar and threatened him, Kaz.

Kaz: Like I said, nicely.

Y/N: I don’t think that falls under the definition of “nicely."

Kaz: I didn’t put a knife to his throat. I didn’t even yell.

Y/N: ...Fair enough.

295 notes · View notes

pregnant-piggy · 1 year

Text

Opposites attract

Jesper Fahey x reader

word count: 3.8k

summary: Jesper and you are total opposites. You clash and bicker all the time and it makes working together near impossible, but when it comes to a matter of life and death, Jesper realises he’d put it all aside for you

warnings: reader gets shot, mentions of getting drunk, blood, and passing out

Jesper Fahey hated Kaz Brekker.

Granted, not all the time, but right now as his dark-haired, glove-wearing boss limped away from him, leaving him frustrated and out of focus at the tables, he hated Kaz. Not because he had scolded Jesper for being in the club again wasting his precious little money—Jesper had learned how to tune that out by now—but because he had brought the news of a slight change of plan.

“y/n is joining you on the job,” Kaz had said, not three minutes ago.

“y/n? Why?”

The plan had been for Jesper and Anika to infiltrate the opening of a new gallery at the Kunstmuseum and take home a painting of three milking maids from another exhibition. A fairly easy job—quickly in, quickly out. Hopefully without a fight, but if it came to that… Jesper wouldn't mind. He was long due for some action.

“They added new guests to the list,” Kaz had explained. “One of them is the stadwatch chief and Anika’s face is familiar to him. y/n isn’t.”

“You think maybe there’s a reason for that?”

But Kaz had turned around. “You’ll take y/n. I’m not asking you.”

Jesper sighed and hoisted himself up from his seat. If it was you he was going with, he better start preparing himself.

To say Jesper hated you was a bit of a stretch but there was no love lost between you two. You were everything that Jesper was not. Calm, silent, somehow always blending in with the background. But that was not to say that you were boring, on the contrary, whenever you were around Jesper he found it difficult to not engage in discussions with you. You irked him. You always knew exactly what to say to vex him and he hated how you seemed to enjoy getting him irritated.

There was a reason the chief of the stadwatch wouldn’t be able to recognize you—the same reason Jesper didn’t like doing jobs with you—you shied away from a fight. Not once had Jesper heard that you’d come back from a job with even as much as a bruise. You were a Dreg and there must be something you were good at, because Jesper knew Kaz wouldn’t keep you around otherwise, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

So he wasn’t so thrilled to do this job anymore. He knew perfectly well that he could save himself in a fight but even he had to admit that the odds of making it out unharmed when it was five to one and you were standing next to him watching were slim.

But he needed the money and could use some distraction for his mind seemed to be full of unimportant things lately. You being one of the biggest of them.

“Jesper!”

He looked up when he entered the Slat. You were sitting at a table with what Jesper recognised as blueprints from the Kunstmuseum in front of you. There was a steaming mug in your hand and Jesper rolled his eyes. Of course you were drinking tea.

“You ready?” you asked when Jesper sunk down at the table.

“Sure,” he said, pulling one of the maps closer. He hadn’t really looked at them, relying on Anika to lead him the way, although he doubted she had investigated them as much as you had. She was more like him in that aspect. Just go in and see what happens.

But that wasn’t you. You liked to be prepared, Jesper knew. The first time Jesper had gone on a job with you and you’d poured yourself over maps and blueprints he had thought it was a lame attempt to catch Kaz’s attention but since then he’d learned that you just did it for yourself. How exactly it would help you was lost on him this time, however, because the plan was already set. Still, he had to admire your dedication. Even if it seemed useless.

When Jesper said nothing else, you frowned. “You’re angry.”

“No.”

“Annoyed, at the very least.”

“I’m not.”

You pursed your lips. “Did you tell your face?”

“I’m fine,” Jesper snapped and you recoiled. He felt a pang of guilt and conjured a smile on his face. “Sorry.” He tried to come up with an excuse but all he could manage was, “Long night.”

“The sun hasn’t even set yet.”

“Imagine my torment.”

“Poor Jes,” you said, giving him a rueful smile. You refocused on the blueprints. “I’m not giving you a kiss to make it better, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

“What makes you think I want you to kiss me?” Jesper ignored the odd thrill in his stomach and leaned forward. “Do you want to kiss me?”

You looked up, your face suddenly so close that Jesper sucked in his breath. You squeezed your eyes, pursed your lips to a pout in thinking. Jesper wasn’t so sure what he wanted the answer to the question to be.

“Hm, no,” you said finally, leaning back with a small smirk. “This really wouldn’t be the right place for a kiss, would it?”

“Yes. Good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

- -- - -- -

The alley next to the Kunstmuseum was dark and cold, but it hid you from the light of the streets and thus the prying eyes of the waiting guests outside. While you knew your—fake—names were on the guestlist, there was no reason for you and Jesper, two Barrel rats, to hang around people that would’ve liked to cut your part of the city off. The less people saw of you, the better, and while maybe you could blend in and become almost invisible, someone like Jesper was hard to miss. If not for his tall, lanky body that was literally impossible to look past, then for the way he was bouncing on his feet with excitement.

“Jesper, could you please stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

You waved your hand in his direction. “Your… dancing.”

“Darling, if you think this is dancing you’ve had the worst dancing partners ever.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just stop it, please. It’s stressing me out.”

Jesper laughed, but stopped hopping around. He rested his back against the wall next to you and asked, “How long?”

“The doors open in fifteen minutes.” You dared a glance at him. “The guards should be done with their final round by now. We could sneak inside now and be done before the party even starts.”

“And miss it? There’ll be real champagne, not the watered down stuff they serve in the Barrel. I don’t want to miss out on that.”

“We can’t risk getting caught because you want to get drunk, Jesper!”

“Fine,” Jesper sighed. “I’ll just steal a bottle to celebrate our success later. Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll share.”

“Are you this annoying with everyone? Or is it some special treatment you save for me?”

“Aw, don’t flatter yourself, darling.” He didn’t look at you as he said it. “You’re hardly the only one vying for my attention.”

You shook your head. Glancing back at the guests that were waiting for the opening, you pushed off the wall. “Let’s go now.”

But Jesper shook his head. “That’s not the plan.”

“It’s a better plan.”

The plan Jesper and Anika had come up with was fine but it depended a lot on their confidence in a fight and you didn’t want to let it come that far. You had studied the lay-out of the museum the entire evening. It wasn’t that hard. There was a window in the exhibition room next to the one the target painting was in. You would go in before the party started, wait for the sounds of guests to block out any unwanted sounds you and Jesper might make while getting the painting out of its frame and putting a fake one back in, and then you’d climb out the same window again. It was a lot easier than trying to act like you belonged between a bunch of rich people.

“It’s not. It’s not even fun.”

You scoffed. “Jesper, this is not about fun. If you like getting arrested so much, do it on your own time.”

“No,” Jesper said. “I already had to take you along, I won’t let you spoil any more of my night.”

With a frown, you stared at Jesper. He always acted both annoyed and annoying around you, trying to get you to blush or flip out—you were never sure which one—but you had always thought that was a joke between the two of you. You liked him and you thought he liked you too, since he was always trying to get your attention, always flirting and teasing, joining in your bickering. But apparently you had been wrong. And that hurt.

“Fine,” you huffed, turning on your heels. “Have it your way.”

You grabbed the bag of tools and walked away.

“Where are you going?” Jesper called after you.

You looked over your shoulder. “I’m getting that painting.”

- -- - -- -

The opening had been ten minutes ago, but instead of getting sloshed on expensive champagne Jesper was crouched behind a dumpster, eyes trained on a window in the back of the Kunstmuseum. He was waiting for you to come out again, but with every minute that passed he got more worried.

He regretted getting angry with you, especially when you were right. Your plan was better and a whole lot easier. And, in all honesty, he didn’t mind that it was you he was doing this with after all. You weren’t as bold and, frankly, reckless as most other Dregs, but you were safe and cautious, and maybe that was why you never got hurt or caught, Jesper realised. It wasn’t because you were afraid, it was because you were smart.

He wanted to climb through the window after you, but he hadn’t really been listening when you’d briefed him on security schedules and he wasn’t sure if he’d jump right into a guard’s lap if he went in now.

But you were taking a long time, longer than necessary and Jesper was growing worried. He knew you were able to take care of yourself but what if something had gone miserably wrong and you were being carried out by the stadwatch while Jesper sat snug in an alley?

Just when he moved to get up from his crouch, Jesper heard voices. He sank lower behind the dumpster and peered over the top.

Two men in guard’s uniforms were approaching the back of the Kunstmuseum. They were talking loudly and paying little attention to the alley but even they wouldn’t miss you if you’d climb out of the window now.

Jesper sat with his knees folded up to his chest, praying to all saints and gods he knew that you would not come out now. His heart was beating in his chest with that familiar thrill of danger but also with something else. Something he couldn’t quite name.

The guards were close to turning the corner and having a clear view of the window. Jesper waited with held breath.

Then your head peeked over the window ledge. You looked to both sides and then began to climb out of the window.

Jesper cursed and tried to catch your attention, but he couldn’t rise above the dumpster without revealing his presence to the guards. He looked around for something to throw in your direction to warn you, but of course he’d ended up at the one dumpster that was completely clean.

With panic he watched as you dropped your legs from the window and the guards rounded the corner.

“Hey, you there!” one of the guards shouted.

You froze. Your arms were still inside the window, holding onto the ledge. Very slowly, you turned your head to the guards. Jesper could see the alarm on your face but, to your credit, you swallowed and smiled at the two men.

“Good evening,” you said. “Would any of you give me a hand?”

“What are you doing there?”

You gestured inside with your head. “Awfully boring party. I thought it was time to leave.”

“Through the back?”

“Well it would be insulting to walk out the front door now, wouldn’t it?” You smiled but Jesper could see the strain on your arms. You wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. You were probably carrying the painting in your hands too. “So, is there anything I can help you gentlemen with?”

If Jesper hadn’t seen the guards reach for their guns, he would have laughed at the situation. He had clearly misjudged you.

“Come down,” the guard said, hand on his gun. “Get on the ground and we’ll figure this out.”

You pulled yourself a little higher, arms visibly struggling. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.” Your eyes flitted over the back alley, lingering on Jesper and the dumpster. “I have an important meeting to get to.”

You nodded almost invisibly and Jesper jumped up from his hiding spot. Before either of the guards had reacted, he shot the left man in his right arm. The guard dropped his own weapon and reached for his injured arm with a cry.

The other guard raised his gun at Jesper and shot but he rolled away. The bullet flew narrowly past his ear. The blood pumped through Jesper’s veins and he focused his energy on the guard that was coming for him. He reloaded his own gun, aimed for the guard, fired, and was sliding away again.

He looked over his shoulder to find the guard clutching his side, but he wasn’t down yet. The guard shot again but he was clearly fazed by his wound. He missed Jesper and sank down against the wall. When he raised his hand to aim for Jesper again, it shook so badly that he couldn’t pull the trigger.

Jesper kicked the gun from the guard’s hand and slammed the but of his own gun against the man’s temple.

“Sorry, buddy,” he muttered as the guard’s head fell to his chest.

The winning feeling in Jesper’s chest lasted all the way to when he turned around to you. As he spun on his heels he was just in time to hear the gunshot, to see you falling from the window, a cried-out “Jesper!” spilling from your lips.

Then you hit the ground and he heard a loud cracking sound.

- -- - -- -

You thought you’d pass out from the pain, but apparently you weren’t allowed that peace. The pain bloomed from a spot in your waist, but your entire body was burning and shaking. You struggled keeping your eyes open but closing them somehow made the pain worse. Jesper shouted your name but you hadn’t the energy to respond. Something wet was spreading under you, soaking into your clothes.

Your head was tilted to the side, cheek against the ground. Through the slits of your eyes you could see Jesper but he was a blur. He was moving, then you heard a shot and a startled cry before silence descended in the alley.

Jesper fell to his knees beside you.

“y/n, can you hear me?”

“Jesper,” you croaked and his face broke in relief.

“Oh, Saints, you’re alive.”

“Jes—”

But Jesper wasn’t listening. He checked your body for injuries and his gaze stuck to the bulletwound in your side.

“Okay, that’s not that bad.” He glanced up at your face and must have caught your frown because he added, “It’s not good either.”

He got up and bent down to pick you up. You hissed when he pulled you up and the skin around your wound stretched. A new wave of pain rushed through you and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“No, no, y/n,” Jesper said. “Don’t pass out on me. I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. You’d try, at least.

Jesper took the roll with the painting from where it hung from your shoulder. “What’s that smell?”

“What?”

He looked at you, brought his face down, and took a sniff. “It’s you. Why do you smell like alcohol?”

You thought of the crack when you had fallen down. “The bottle,” you sighed.

“What bottle?”

“Champagne. I got you a bottle of champagne.”

For a second Jesper stared at you. He shook his head in disbelief. “You got me a bottle of champagne? Was that why you stayed away for so long?”

A dark haze was coming over your vision. There was a pressing pain in your head. “Better than in the Barrel,” you mumbled, allowing your head to fall against Jesper’s shoulder. “Wanted to apologise.”

You closed your eyes. The peace you’d wanted was slowly enveloping your body. You felt Jesper’s chuckle but when he spoke his voice was far away. “Don’t die, please, y/n. You owe me a kiss.”

- -- - -- -

Jesper wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been sitting there in that small room, but it must have been the longest he had ever sat still. His legs were restless for movement, his hands aching to hold something, but he kept sitting.

You hadn’t opened your eyes since Jesper had carried you out of the alley of the Kunstmuseum. He had run as fast as he could without hurting you. In the end it probably was better that you had passed out because you would have never stopped teasing him if you’d seen the panic on his face.

He didn’t know what it was exactly, but seeing you falling and bleeding had unleashed something in Jesper. It was something more than worry and he didn’t like to admit that it probably was fear.

The wound in your waist had been healed and luckily left no permanent damage, but you’d still lost a lot of blood—the stains on Jesper’s jacket were painful proof—and you’d been somewhere between unconscious and asleep for the past hours. The sun had risen above the grim roofs of the city, but Jesper hadn’t noticed. He had been holding your hand the entire time, not letting himself close his eyes, afraid that he’d miss it when you woke up.

He couldn’t lose you. Just couldn’t. He had thought that you annoyed him, that him being near you all the time was some trick of bad luck, but he could not have been more wrong. It was him. He sought you out, always wanting to see your eyebrows crease into a frown when he said something or hear your laugh when you made a smart comment. He was drawn to you and he wished it hadn’t been this situation that had made him realise it.

His leg was bouncing up and down nervously, his fingers tapped an uneven rhythm on his thigh. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to regain his concentration, but opened them immediately when he felt your fingers move in his hand.

“Jesper?”

Your eyes were still shut and if he hadn’t seen your lips move he might have believed that it was someone playing a prank on him. But you had spoken his name.

“Yes, I’m here. Right here.”

Very slowly you opened your eyes, looking around the room in confusion before settling on Jesper. A small smile reached your lips. You didn’t let go of his hand.

“Hello,” you said and it took all of Jesper’s strength not to throw his arms around you and hold you close.

“Hi, darling,” he said instead, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

With your free hand you felt your waist, looked down at it, and shrugged. “Alive.”

Jesper laughed and you smiled a bit wider at him.

“I would’ve missed that laugh if I died.”

“Saints, y/n, you scared the hell out of me.”

You lifted one shoulder. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“There are less lethal ways to do that.”

A tired chuckle fell from your lips. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Jesper shook his head, once again bewildered by how greatly he had misjudged you. How could he have missed all that was sitting before him right now?

“Please don’t ever do that again,” he said, giving you a wry smile. “I’d rather carry you through Ketterdam while you’re alive.”

“Hm, might hold you to that.” You let go of Jesper’s hand and brought your own two hands together in your lap. You bit your lips before saying, “Thanks for, you know, saving my life.”

“Any time,” Jesper said, but he added softly, “I know I’ve never really been a good friend, but I need you to know that I would never not save you. I promise.”

You looked up. “Thank you.”

“But let’s keep the life-saving to a minimum. I don’t think I can survive seeing you like that again, love.”

You stared at Jesper for a minute, clearly catching on the emotions he had tried but desperately failed to keep out of his voice. There was something heavy in your eyes and he was sure that you were about to break his heart but instead you smirked.

“I guess I owe you one more thing now,” you said.

“More?” Jesper blinked, confused. “You don’t owe me anything?”

“I seem to recall differently. I believe I owe you… what was it you said? A kiss?”

The feeling that filled Jesper was so light he feared he might start floating. A strange sense of excitement that was nothing like a round at the tables or a dangerous situation filled his body when he leaned forward. “Is that so? Who says you didn’t just dream that while you were out?”

“Oh believe me, Jesper, if it was my dream we’d be doing a lot more than an innocent kiss.”

Jesper raised his brow. You had leaned in, too, and your face was close when he mumbled, “You must tell me about that dream someday. Sooner rather than later.”

You laughed and Jesper pressed his lips against your smiling mouth.

Kissing you was the best thing he’d done in the past twenty-four hours. Better than his evening in the Crow Club. Better than shooting those guards. Somehow you were those things together and then doubled. And doubled again. He wished he hadn’t been so blind and had done this a long time ago already.

When you pulled apart to catch your breath, there was a wide smile on your lips and Jesper kissed you again just because he could. He’d trade all his breaths to kiss you.

“Who knew that was on the schedule for today?” he asked eventually, out of breath but deliciously so.

“You make almost dying extremely rewarding,” you grinned, stroking your thumb over Jesper’s bottom lip.

He laughed, catching your hand to press a kiss to your palm. “It’s my specialty, darling.”

- - - - - - - -

six of crows taglist: @xxinvisiblexx @awritingtree

MASTERLIST

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #jesper fahey #soc

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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

The Easiest Way to Steal a Man’s Wallet is to Tell Him You’re Going to Steal His Watch - Jesper Fahey Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: The Easiest Way to Steal a Man’s Wallet is to Tell Him You’re Going to Steal His Watch

Pairing: Jesper Fahey X Platonic!Sun Summoner!Reader (the sun summoner thing doesn't come up in this story)

Word Count: 1,408 words

Warning(s): gambling, mention of theft (?)

Summary: [Pre-Show] Jesper is always confident, he's just not always right. However, he was certain that the game he was playing was his. There was no way he couldn't win. So, when he doesn't, curiosity gets the best of him.

Author's Note: Because why deal with the main plot when I can just write this and show the beginning of cute besties?

MORE OF THIS OC HERE

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It all started with a single game between (Y/n) (Y/l/n) and Jesper Fahey

It was strange to know that such an important part of history could be traced back to something so... simple. Two people sitting across from each other, testing how much the other was willing to through into the pot. Any other player didn't matter. Each one was on a roll, seemingly taking turns on who got to celebrate a victory.

The pair had never met before that night. When looking back at it, neither one would be particularly shocked that they ended up being such close friends. It would have happened regardless of what followed that game. Regardless of the history that would be made on both parts.

Jesper was on his last game of the night. That's what he told himself. If he would have stuck to that promise would remain largely a mystery.

He was confident. A smirk sat on his face. He was certain that he was bulletproof in that moment. He just had to wait. Wait to take his winnings and leave for a night of happiness.

He underestimated (Y/n).

He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Some extravagant guns you walked in with," (Y/n) said, nodding a bit as some way to indicate to them.

Jesper grinned. "Thanks."

"Important for work?"

"I just like to take care of my things," he shrugged. "You have to treat what you love well. It'll treat you well in return."

"Well, you're obviously going a good job of that," they replied. "And a life lesson. How moving."

Jesper chuckled and took half a second to glance down at the gun on his side. That half-second was enough to be his undoing. Not that he realized that.

No. Jesper wouldn't realize that until the cards were quite literally laid out on the table before him.

His confident smile immediately dropped as he studied the cards in front of him. Both his own and (Y/n)'s. His eyebrows furrowed.

That was impossible. He couldn't have lost. This was the one time that he was certain that such a thing was impossible. And maybe he had said that before and maybe he had been wrong many times, but this time was different.

"What," he managed to sputter out. "How?"

"Lucky day for me," (Y/n) shrugged to him, reaching forward to take their winnings for the night. "See you around... I didn't actually get your name."

"Jesper," he replied, still staring at the cards. "And yours?"

"Ask me when you win a game against me," they smirked before walking out.

Jesper didn't have a moment to question the game. He knew that he needed to. Something clearly wasn't right about it.

He stood up, quickly making his way outside.

They were already gone when Jesper made it through the door. He looked around, quickly scanning the streets to see if he could catch sight of the person.

Nothing.

He wouldn't see (Y/n) until the next day.

He hadn't even been looking for them. He had merely been walking by and caught sight of them leaning against a wall. They were chatting and laughing with some guy that Jesper had seen a few times. He knew the man was arrogant and rarely completely sober. He had been thrown out of Kaz's club once.

He was prepared to interrupt, assuming that (Y/n) was being harassed by some older man that could not comprehend that someone could be polite when they were uncomfortable.

And then, Jesper watched (Y/n)'s movements play out like a finely perfected dance. They reached over and touched the man's arm as they laughed, acting like it was a funny story. Then, their hand moved down, and they expertly slipped something off of the man's wrist. Jesper couldn't even catch sight of what was taken. He just knew that something was gone.

He paid closer attention to (Y/n) after that moment.

He kept himself at a safe distance, trying to observe without ringing any alarms for the thief.

He had seen them steal everything but the clothes off someone's back. Watches, jewelry, money. Anything that could be quickly grabbed and stashed away. These escapades were interrupted by (Y/n)'s tricks going seemingly unnoticed at different gambling joints. No commitment to any place in particular. Just going where the tricks could work best.

The only place not hit was the Crow Club. Jesper made sure to keep that in mind.

Jesper almost admired (Y/n)'s work.

If he hadn't been stolen from, then maybe he would have been.

It was a few days later that he insisted that Kaz listen to him. That he might have someone to pique the man's interest.

Kaz made sure to show that he was far too busy to worry himself with such a thing but listened to Jesper regardless.

The pair stood in Kaz's office. Jesper stood on one side of the desk with his arms crossed over his chest. Kaz stood on the other, shifting through the paperwork that was not nearly as unorganized as it often appeared.

"So, there's this pickpocket," Jesper explained. "Really good. Talented. They run tricks at gambling joints too. Whole sleight of hand act. it's impressive. They could probably be living like royalty if they truly wanted to."

"And you want me to hire them," Kaz concluded. "Based on your word?"

"Not right away," Jesper shook his head. "I want you to consider them."

"What need would I have for them?"

"Someone charming and clever. Who can apparently steal anything without getting questioned because they're simply too nice in the moment for someone to do so. Imagine the doors that someone like that could open."

"How did you learn of this person?"

Jesper was hesitant to admit to that, but when Kaz's glare didn't falter, Jesper's resolve did. "They got me during a game. Tricked me. But I followed them. I know what they're capable of."

Kaz scoffed. It was the beginning of the story that he expected to hear. He had few problems with Jesper's gambling until he lost.

"I'm not saying to just let them join," Jesper argued. "I'm saying we should see if they'd be a benefit because I think they could be."

"And when did you start deciding that," Kaz asked.

Jesper's head tilted as his expression hardened. Kaz showed no reaction to the glare. He knew very well that Jesper wouldn't truly act on any aggression that he may hold toward his boss.

"One chance," Jesper begged. "One chance for them to prove how good they are."

Kaz paused.

Jesper could see every gear working in the man's head. He couldn't imagine the scenarios that Kaz was working through, but he was confident that there were a million of them. That seemed to simply be how Kaz operated.

"I assume you've already offered this person a job," Kaz said.

"No," Jesper admitted. "They don't even know that I know what they're capable of."

"Will they come to a meeting?"

"Probably not," he muttered. "They pretty much ran from the table as soon as I started to question the game."

"So, how do you suggest we offer them a chance?"

Jesper paused for a moment. "I thought that you would come up with something brilliant because you're a great boss."

Kaz let out a sigh like an older brother would. His eyes closed for a moment and his shoulders dropped.

Jesper considered if he could sneak through the window in Kaz's office like Inej did. His conclusion was that he definitely could but would probably break his neck by falling from it.

"I need you to invite them here," Kaz instructed, snapping Jesper out of whatever daring escape plan he had formulated. "I will handle the rest."

"Alright," Jesper nodded. "Tomorrow night."

"Don't get distracted."

"I am not a child!"

Kaz raised an eyebrow at him. No. Not a child. But a very easily distracted man. One sight of a bet and Jesper wouldn't be seen for hours.

"I won't get distracted," Jesper promised after realizing he wouldn't escape the stare-down that he had been caught in the middle of.

Kaz nodded and Jesper abruptly turned around and left the office.

No one in the Barrel could have guessed that the following night would have changed everything for so many people involved.

For the time being, it was all normal.

Then again, who truly knows that they will make history until things start falling down around them?

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

Author's Note: this quote-as-a-title thing is going to screw me over.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey fanfiction #jesper fahey x reader #jesper imagine #jesper fanfiction #jesper x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows x reader #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader

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syllvane · 1 year

Text

beautiful as the view from a sinking ship- jesper fahey x reader

a/n: people will watch la la land (2016) instead of go to therapy. it’s me i’m people. angst

“I’m surprised you’re here.” Inej said, appearing out of thin air.

You scoffed slightly, grabbing your drink before turning to look at Inej.

“I’m still a Crow, am I not? Just because me and Jes broke up, doesn’t mean I forfeit my place here.”

The nickname sat in the silence between the two of you and you looked away from her.

Inej didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, watching you down the shot of hard liquor.

“I know, I just… you’ve been keeping odd hours. You’ve stopped coming around the Slat.”

You signaled the bartender for another round.

You looked at her and, despite the copious amount of alcohol you had consumed, your eyes were clear and bright.

“I’ve been trying to avoid him, if that wasn’t obvious.”

“I know. But by avoiding him, you’ve been avoiding everyone else.”

“Then tell him he needs to take a shift or two of the odd hours so that I can come around.” You snapped, though any anger faded from your voice immediately. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“What happened between the two of you?”

You sighed.

“It’s not worth talking about.”

“But it was worth breaking up over?”

You looked at her again. This time she could see it more clearly, how tired you were.

Inej took a seat next to you, taking the glass of alcohol that was on the counter in front of you.

“This city will kill anyone who stays here long enough. Every day is another fight, and I just want to rest.” You said softly. “Jesper will stay here until Kaz tells him otherwise.”

“Why haven’t you left then?” She asked, the answer written all over your face.

You looked at the alcohol before looking back at her and shaking your head.

“I don’t know. It’s be easier if I could.”

You left some kruge on the bar top before standing up, stumbling slightly before catching yourself and walking home.

Inej followed you in the shadows, making sure that you got home safely before heading back to the Slat, your words ringing in her ears.

“We need your help.”

Bitterness rose up out of nowhere at the sound of Kaz’s voice- it hadn’t always been this way. You once cared about him almost as much as Jesper and Inej.

“There are other Inferni in this city, you know.”

“Yes. Probably ones who don’t smell like alcohol as well, but none that I trust as much as you.”

“Ha.” You deadpanned, turning around to face him.

He took one quick glance at you before looking around the warehouse you had been squatting in.

“This is the last thing I’ll ever ask of you, since you no longer seem interested in being a Crow.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He shot back quickly, tapping his cane absentmindedly. “We’re meeting tonight. You know where to find us.”

“I’ll come with you. Just give me a couple minutes to get ready.”

“Fine.” He said, turning away and looking towards the entrance that he had came through. “You broke his heart, you know. Breaking up with him.”

You gathered your gun and your knives, his words cutting into your skin.

“It broke my heart as well, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t, believe it or not.” He said, getting awfully close to expressing a human emotion. “Remind me to never fall in love with anyone.”

You scoffed, involuntarily thinking of Inej.

“What?” He asked and even without looking at him, you could tell that his eyes had narrowed.

You shook your head.

“Nothing. From my experience, you didn’t get to choose that kind of thing.”

The rest of the way, the two of you walked in silence.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you stood in front of the Slat, dreading the prospect of seeing Jesper again.

He did his best not to look at you as you walked into the Slat, the other Crows giving you a warm, if not slightly awkward, welcome.

It’s a straightforward enough plan- infiltrate the party to gain access to the safe, use your powers to get into the safe, leave with the documents.

It’s simple enough, except it all goes to shit, because of course it does.

The actual safe-breaking is the easiest part of the gig- you’re all outside when the guards show up and start shooting without asking questions, leading to a gunfight, with pairs of Crows isolated from another.

It all feels like it happens in slow motion: someone fires a gun, Jesper is facing the other way, oblivious that a bullet is about to find purchase in his chest.

Your feet move faster than your mind does and you bodied him, the two of you falling onto the ground.

You looked at him.

His eyes, his beautiful eyes were wide with surprise and confusion, his eyebrows scrunched together, bracing the impact of the tackle.

“What do you think you’re-” He started, his tone indignant before his eyes were drawn to the red stain blossoming on your chest. “What did… what did you do? Nina!”

His voice came out as more of a scream and he maneuvered you gently so that you were laying on the cobblestone ground.

Your training in the Second Army, a distant memory from your childhood, might have prepared you for what getting shot feels like if you had stayed longer.

Or maybe not- maybe it would have always hurt this much.

Jesper put his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look at him, his skin cool against yours.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. Don’t close your eyes. Just keep looking at me.”

He’s pretty when he’s fawning over you and you listen to him, look at him, your eyes locking on his.

In his eyes, you see a future.

You see yourself recovering from this, the two of you getting back together, any distance that was in between the two of you made small in the shadow of death.

You see the two of you taking trips out to the countryside, the two of you holding hands, every second the two of you spend together a promise.

It’s all so distant now, tomorrow creeping farther and farther away from your grasp

You lifted your arm, your strength fading from you fast. Your hand settled on his face, cupping his cheek and wiping away a tear that had formed.

You have so much to say still- so many apologies and I love you’s and conversations- you don’t have enough time.

“I’d do it again.” You settle for, trying to assuage the notions of guilt already forming in his head.

His face crumples and Nina rushes over, finally, but there is nothing to be done.

She is not a healer and you are dying.

“Nina, you have to do something. Nina, you have to fix it, please.”

Your hand falls from his face and he grabs it, holding it tightly.

Your hands are cold.

“I love you, Jes.” You say, his name an exhalation of air.

“I love you too. Don’t go.” He begs.

Only Nina hears.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows imagines #six of crows imagine #six of crows #jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey x you #six of crows x reader #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader

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mayfieldss · 3 months

Text

Till Death - Jesper Fahey

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, blood and main character death

Summary; The dregs are on a dangerous mission and there are no guarantees that you'll all make it out alive. Jesper loves you, and you love him, but sometimes that's not enough to save a life.

The sky was your first warning. Dark clouds rolled in, thunder shouting down at you as if pleading you to turn back. You had the chance to, but you would never take it. The risks were clear, set in front of you by Kaz Brekker a dozen times before this very day. This could be the last job your little crew would ever do.

Jesper walked beside you, the both of you falling behind the rest of the group. There was no doubt this was going to end in blood, and Jesper held your hand in his. He refused to let it go, a clear understanding between the two of you that not everyone was to make it out alive.

In truth, Jesper wanted to lock you up in your shared room of the slat and complete the job without the risk of losing you, but Kaz would have killed him for it before anyone even made it to the battlefield. The lot of you needed all the help you could get if this job was to have any semblance of success, keeping you out of the fight was a risk Kaz would not allow Jesper to take. You also never would have made this possible, even if Jesper used the strongest of chains to keep you in place, you would have found a way out. You would always find your way back to him.

"What are you thinking about?" Your voice is soft, melting like snow through the heavy thoughts that weigh Jesper down.

"You." He doesn't hesitate to say it, he never does. He made it his mission about a year ago, to be honest in always telling you how he felt, and what he thought. Most of the time it was a string of cheesy romantic comments that made you blush, but today the word he spoke held sadness.

"It's not too late to turn back, you know." Jesper glances over his shoulder, the gloomy street behind him staring back. He hears you chuckle, the sound so sweet and out of place. Jesper didn't think you belonged here, in the barrel. Of course, you fit in well enough, you were a dreg through and through, but Jesper thought you deserved more. He knew you deserved more. Your smile was unmatched by any toothless grin the other criminals could give him, and your laugh was a sound that shouldn't be drowned out by the sound of gunfire and curses.

"Turning back was never an option, Jes." You loop your arm through his as you walk and that's when it really hits him. The fact that he could lose you today, that fact that you could lose him. He stops pulling you back with him as he does. His eyes scan over you, furrowed brows causing concern within you.

"Promise we'll be okay." Jesper knows it's a stupid thing to ask, but he does it anyway, and when you nod a wave of relief crashes over his heart.

"No mourners, no funerals. You know that Jes." A gentle smile graces your lips, one that you try to maintain but can't. You both know it's not as easy as a promise, and balancing all hope on such a fragile thing is more dangerous than one can bare to think about, but you do it anyway.

"I promise, you Jesper Fahey, that we will be okay."

Your friends are far ahead of you by now, and you'll have to run to catch up very soon, but Jesper doesn't let that stop him from kissing you. His lips meet yours in a desperately sad kiss as if sealing the deal between you that you'll both make it out alive. When he pulls back from you he brushes a hand over your cheek. "No mourners, no funerals."

The battle was bloody, and the deal Kaz had intended to make hadn't gone as planned. Bullets were flying, knives were being thrown and the shouting that ensued as both sides of the fight tried to communicate with their allies was almost incomprehensible.

"Jesper," his name is left hanging in the air as you say it, your voice taking a change in tone as you collapse to the ground. It's sudden, and Jesper hardly has time to react, but when he sees the blood, everything around him begins to blur.

He's not sure what to do. He's not medic, and while he's patched up cuts and scrapes before, this seems beyond his expertise. He's pulled your limp body behind cover, and he sits with you now, unsure and afraid. He doesn't think he has the right to be. He's not the one that's dying so he shouldn't be scared, but the concept of losing you is worse than the possibility he could die himself.

"Are you comfortable?" he knows that's most important now because he knows he can't save you. He wants to, but he can't. He also knows it's a stupid question, because how can one be comfortable with a bullet lodged in their abdomen.

"I've been shot, Jes." You laugh, though it falls from you as more of a cough. "It's not exactly a spa day."

He's glad you still have enough fight in you to joke, and as the battle rages around your hiding place he watches your breathing slow.

"But I'm as comfortable as I can be. Thank you for being with me." you try for a smile, but Jesper struggles to send you one back. He manages, weakly, and feels the pull of the sobs he's holding back in his chest.

"My pleasure, love." he doesn't know if that's true. He doesn't find pleasure in being here, watching you slip away from him bit by bit, but he supposes it's better than not being able to say goodbye.

"I love you." he whispers, wanting you to know one last time. He wants you to hear him say it, but you're already gone. He doesn't realize at first, until he takes in your features. Your eyes look empty now, void of any feeling or pain, and your chest doesn't move an inch for any kind of breath. He calls your name softly, shaking your now relaxed body in his arms. You don't stir.

you never will again.

AN: I-T-G-I-R-L you know i am that gurl

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

GRISHAVERSE TAGLIST: @avyannadawn

JESPER FAHEY TAGLIST: @karamarie2

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omgkatherine01 · 1 year

Text

Creatures of the Night: Chapter 1 - Breaking Free

Series Masterlist

Prologue, Chapter 2

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x female reader

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You looked out the window of your new bedroom when you heard the soft tapping of the rain starting. You looked from your window seat to the fog that covered half your room, and you let out a soft sigh.

You turned your attention back to the window. Happy birthday to me, you thought bitterly.

With Sister Jane and Sister Elizabeth weren't around for a couple of days because they were send to a different house to help, you were feeling more alone now than before. They did promised to celebrate my seventeen birthday when they would come back.

Where was my place in the world?

That was your new question that you kept asking yourself.

You were startled out of your thoughts when a lighting appeared in the sky. Thunders, great, you thought sarcastically.

You leaned your head back on the pillow and closed your eyes.

Lost and all alone.

That was all you could feel right now.

The area around you was full of darkness, and the silent was a little eerie even for you. You heard footsteps which echoed around you, and you looked around you.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Who's there?"

"Kiera." You turned to find who was speaking but couldn't see anyone. "Kiera. Kiera."

You looked around, "Who's there?"

"You've survived. Find me."

You turned around to see a much darker and tall shadow in front of you.

You opened your eyes and sat up straight, gasping. You looked around you in relief to see you were in your room. You brushed your fingers through your hair and pulled your knees to your chest as you looked out to the storm.

You gazed blankly outside.

Kiera. You've survived. Find me.

You slowly turned your head to the front door of your room, which the sisters keep lock. You stared at it as the fog approached and slowly covered the door.

Click

The door slowly opened and you got up. You let out a breath and slowly walked closer. You opened the door fully and peered out to the hallway, not seeing anyone, you stepped out.

You quietly walked down the hall and down the stairs. Hoping you wouldn't come across any of the sisters, you moved quickly to the front door.

"Y/n." You froze and slowly turned to see Sister Daniella approaching you with a startle look. "How did you get out of your room? Where do you think you're going?"

You didn't answer her first question, nor her second really, "I'm seventeen now, I'm leaving."

She scoffed, "Don't be foolish, child. Do you want to get locked in the basement's closet again?"

With that, your eyes suddenly glared angrily at her, a switch was flipped in you, and the room suddenly grew cold and the lights started to flicker, which the sister noted. "Don't. Threaten. Me. Again," you said calmly, but your glare said everything.

She suddenly started to stutter, "I--I wasn't--I was trying to stop you f--from getting yourself punish."

"What is it? What is going on here?" Sister Anne walked closer, frowning. "Well?" She looked at you up and down, "You not even dressed for bed. You planning on going somewhere without our consent? Foolish girl, get back to your room before I'll throw you back to the basement."

Sister Daniella looked from her to you worriedly as you continued to glare at her. "You won't," you said calmly, "I'm done."

"You're done?" Sister Anne repeated as she raised an eyebrow. "Sister--" Sister Daniella started.

"Sister Jane and Sister Elizabeth are not here to protect you now, girl," Sister Anne hissed at you as she took a step closer to you. "You will do as I say."

"No more basements," you said as the lights flickered again and the fog started to approach from the top of the stairs, "No more closet doors to lock me in." The house started to shake a little, but you didn't pay attention to it, unlike the Sisters who looked around with a startle, and the doors to the children's rooms opened.

"I am free from you!" you snapped and the door behind you opened while the glass windows all around the house broke, startling everyone.

The children upstairs screamed, which snapped you out from your glare. You breathed heavily as you realized now that the shadows were all around the house, creating chaos.

Sister Daniella and Sister Anne were pinned on the wall and the darkness approached them. You stared blankly before taking a step forward when they screamed in horror as the darkness covered them.

Their screams stopped.

You stared at the dark space for a moment before turning to the door. You walked outside and walked away as the door closed behind you.

You felt the shadows following you now as you walked into the rain.

Find me.

You could still hear the man's voice in your head, like a broken record.

Find me.

How? you asked yourself.

Find me.

You stopped and let out a shaky breath. You looked up at the sky, and closed your eyes, letting the rain hit your face as if it could wash away your evil thoughts and your guilt for not helping the Sisters.

Find me.

You lowered your head and glanced over your shoulder.

A mistake.

The entire house was covered in complete darkness.

Inside and outside.

No more screams.

The Sisters and the children that were inside... were gone.

Taglist:

@lyria-skyfall, @myheartfollower, @cleverzonkwombatsludge, @mjlock, @clairewinchester14, @losteroops, @venomsvl, @yvxcy, @wickedlovely121

#shadow and bone #the crows x reader #the crows #netflix series #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #the darkling imagine #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey #mal x alina #the darkling x alina

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

Day 16: Afterglow, Jesper Fahey

Song link

Fanfic, gn!reader

Slight angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2605

Tw: Description/mention of blood and injury. You punch a mirror but only the after effects are described. Arguments, longing, regrets, slight anxiety. Crying/description of crying.

Summary: After a rough week of everything going wrong, Jesper loses money yet again. And out of frustration and anger, you begin yelling a Jesper, claiming to need more time for yourself. But in moments like these, you might need him even more than you realise. And spoken words can be later regrets. Thankfully, Jesper knows, and he will not leave you alone.

“I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue Put you in jail for something you didn't do I pinned your hands behind your back, oh Thought I had reason to attack, but no.”

“Really, Jesper? Again?” You sighed exasperatedly, throwing your hands up in frustration.

In front of you, your boyfriend stood with a remorseful expression on his face, having just announced losing his own savings to yet another poker match.

It wasn’t that you weren’t used to it. Perhaps that wasn’t something awfully good to begin with, but you wouldn’t have made a big deal about it, had you not just had the most exhausting week in years. It was a week where everything simply seemed to go wrong; too much questions for too little answers, clumsy actions, rude people and overall just a terrible mood. Jesper wasn’t even allowed to talk to you until you had been up for at least an hour.

And this was that little droplet that flooded the bucket.

“Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there's no us.”

“Can’t you just think? For once in your life?” A heavy sigh escaped you, your shoulders slumping in defeat. You were too tired to even argue with him.

“Darling, I’ll win it back-“

“When, Jes?” You interrupted, crossing your arms. “For once, tell me; when will you actually win some money back?”

As he opened his mouth to speak, you shook your head slowly, all worries and exhaustion of the last couple of days suddenly washing over you.

“No, it’s fine, Jesper.” You groaned, pinching your thumb and index finger together on the bridge. “You waste your money again. I’m gonna need some time for me.”

“Why'd I have to break what I love so much? It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say.”

At that, Jesper’s face fell even more.

“Time for me?” He repeated. “Away from me? Or from everything in general? Or-“

“Please, Jesper.” You shut him up again, already turning around in your step, fatigue dripping from your features. “Leave me be for a while.”

You missed the confused, yet crestfallen expression on his face as you sauntered up the stairs, cursing to yourself as your coat connected to the bars of the stairs. Tugging it harshly, you resumed your steps, your terrible mood worsening by the second.

The minute you entered your room and closed that door behind you, you finally broke down. Nothing life changing had even happened, but you kept bottling everything up. It was only a matter of time before you reached your breaking point.

“Hey It's all me in my head I'm the one who burned us down But it's not what I meant.”

Letting your back slide against the door, you slowly lowered yourself onto the floor, grasping loose ends of your hair desperately as you tried to keep quiet. The last thing you needed was for someone to interrupt you in this state.

Swallowing the big lump in your throat, you let your hands fall down, staring at their shaking state. Maybe you should’ve taken time for yourself earlier. Maybe you wouldn’t be feeling as miserable as you did now.

Regrets and anxieties suddenly swirled your mind as you got yourself back up, stumbling over to that comforting mattress. Instead of throwing yourself in top of it - what seemed a good thought - you sat down on it, sniffing twice as you wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

But then another fell. And another. And before you knew it, the droplets were falling to the floor, and you were left in a sobbing, shaking state. And the worst part was that you made yourself feel worse. How you kept telling yourself nothing severe had happened; you simply had a bad week. But it was enough to leave you to your self pity in your room.

“Sorry that I hurt you I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you.”

Jesper had stayed in the exact same spot you left him. Unmoving, nearly cut off from breathing. He knew he had screwed up; he had done it multiple times. But never had you freaked out as much as you did today.

He had wanted you to scream at him - to call him names. But instead, you stood there, nearly as broken as he stood there now, telling him you needed time for yourself.

He had no idea you were breaking down. He was running through all possible scenarios in his head. The worst one was that you would leave him. That this “time alone” was a polite way of telling him you were over. In truth, that might be the worst thought in his head at the moment.

And he could not stop thinking about it.

“I need to say, hey It's all me, just don't go Meet me in the afterglow.”

Kaz had passed him in the hall minutes after, telling Jesper to watch the door, but all the boy could answer with was a quiet ‘yes’. Kaz didn’t question it; he had more urging matters on his mind. But he could tell something was up with his friend.

And so he sent Nina later, when Jesper failed to follow Kaz’ orders. She tried to talk to the sharpshooter, trying to calm his raging heart, but Jesper had dismissed her proposals.

She did not want to leave him there. She wouldn’t have left anyone there. But Jesper seemed unmoving - frozen to the spot. She had managed to slow his heartbeat down without him knowing, but the thoughts did not stop plaguing his mind.

And then he heard it; the loud clashing of something falling apart upstairs.

“It's so excruciating to see you low Just wanna lift you up and not let you go This ultraviolet morning light below Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh.”

Without wasting a single second, he seemed to be brought back to life, running up the stairs, skipping two steps every time.

He was in front of your door quicker than he had ever been before, panting heavily, but more steadfast than ever before.

“Love?” He knocked on the door, waiting for your response. He did not dare to wait too long, fearing something might have happened.

But before his hand could reach the knob, your voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Go away, Jes.”

Sighing deeply, he dropped his hands. Usually, he’d listen to you. But there was something about your voice that sounded so broken. So beat up. He could not help himself.

“I lived like an island, punished you with silence Went off like sirens, just crying.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He immediately began as he opened the door regardless of your requests. And there, he saw your form; standing in front of a broken mirror, shards now on the floor.

He couldn’t help but let a gasp escape him, walking up to you quickly.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, unsure of himself as he grabbed your now bloodied hands gently, engulfing it with his own.

You couldn’t give him a vocal answer. You were in no state to even talk right now, let alone answer him. Your lip began to quiver once more, and you found yourself having a hard time forcing all the tears back.

“Darling,” He went on, now making eye contact with you. “Are you okay?”

And then, you broke down for a second time.

“Why'd I have to break what I love so much? It's on your face, don't walk away, I need to say.”

Shaking your head desperately, a broken sob escaped your throat as the tears began to flow again. And at the mere sight, Jesper’s heart broke.

Forgetting all about your scolding earlier, he let go of your hands, stepping forward instead as he wrapped his arms around your figure. Shaking in his hold, your hands clutched his blouse, your head buried in his chest as you continued to let it all out.

Every little thing that has been against you since that Monday six days ago fought in your head. You were listing every single one of them, torturing yourself more, even as you were now in the sole hands of comfort. You couldn’t help yourself. You almost felt pathetic.

“Hey It's all me in my head I'm the one who burned us down But it's not what I meant.”

Jesper shushed you quietly, rubbing your back in soothing circles as he found himself shifting weight on his feet constantly, rocking you slightly. The notion made you cry even harder, hating yourself for casting away the one thing that would make you feel better.

Why’d you have to blame it on him? Sure, he did not have the healthiest habits, but you knew that the moment you started dating him. You weren’t fair to let it all out on him. Why would you even do that?

And he wasn’t even angry at you. He was there, regardless of the way you acted towards him. He was there, holding you when you didn’t have to ask for it. Soothing you in ways only he knew how to do. You should have never took it out on him.

“I'm sorry that I hurt you I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you.”

The lump in your throat became lesser with the second, pain now shooting through your knuckles, a stinging sensations burning the skin.

With a hiccup, you parted from him, trying to wipe your tears off of your face. But at the notion, the tiny glass shards poking into your knuckles, dug themselves deeper into your hands, smearing blood over your cheeks as well.

You hissed upon impact, retreating your hand almost instantly. Jesper picked up on the movements quickly, and retreated his hands to yours, inspecting them closely.

A look of empathy seemed to be latched into his features as he carefully led you out of your tiny bathroom, placing you on top of your mattress.

“Stay here,” he urged through a whisper, placing a kiss on top of your head before returning to the broken mirror.

“I need to say, hey It's all me, just don't go Meet me in the afterglow.”

When he came back, he had a wet cloth and two rolls of bandages in his hands. You didn’t even dare to object anymore. You didn’t have the energy for it. You were grateful he was here, yet you couldn’t stop but pine over the thought of leaving him there in that hallway.

The Zemeni boy sat down beside you and you felt the mattress dip slightly at the notion. Grabbing the tweezers from your nightstand, he grabbed one hand, placing it on his lap.

“I’d usually let Inej do this, but I have to accept my fate some day, right?” He tried to joke, even though he himself was still pretty shaken up about the whole ordeal.

“Tell me that you're still mine Tell me that we'll be just fine Even when I lose my mind.”

Pulling the leftover shards from your hand had - surprisingly - been the easiest part. They hadn’t been dug in too deeply yet, and didn’t shatter at the impact from earlier. All good signs thus far.

No, the difficult part was cleaning the wounds. He didn’t even take rubbing alcohol, as you usually would have recommended. He had used plain water. But the rough edges of the wounds were left stinging either way, and the coarse feeling of the cloth was not at all pleasant.

Your already wrapped hand clung to the sheets as Jesper continued working on the other, still bleeding hand.

The silence throughout everything was deafening. For him, it was out of fear you’d send him away again. For you, it was out of fear he’d ask what had happened. Or that he would scold you.

But neither happened.

“I need to say Tell me that it's not my fault Tell me that I'm all you want Even when I break your heart.”

In fact, when both your hands were wrapped up, Jesper took painstaking care of cleaning the bathroom floor: blood droplets and shards. He even took the mirror off of the wall to prevent any more pieces from falling to the floor.

You had sat on that bed that whole time. Not daring to move, not daring to speak. Now would be the moment he’d burst out at you for being so stupid, or careless. You knew Kaz would’ve done it.

But Jesper didn’t say anything. And it wasn’t even the painful silent treatment. It was remorseful silence. There was no trace of anger nor frustration on his face.

“I need to say, hey It's all me in my head I'm the one who burned us down But it's not what I meant.”

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, looking down at your hands. You couldn’t see it, but Jesper’s head shot up at your words.

“No,” he dismissed swiftly. “Don’t you ever apologise for this. Whatever happened, this is not on you.”

A sad frown passed your face as you looked up at him. You hadn’t even heard him near the bed again.

“Yes, it is! I was the one who yelled at you! I was the one who punched the mirror!” You justified, pointing your hand towards the mirror that was now on top of your desk. “I was the one who couldn’t even handle a bad six days.”

“Oh, darling,” Jesper mused, kneeling down to get a proper look at your face. Now looking down at him, you inhaled sharply. “You should have told me. You shouldn’t fight off bad days alone. I am here for a reason, you know?”

“Sorry that I hurt you I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you.”

Again, his hands fell on yours, the warmth immediately welcomed by you. “I’m not just a trophy boyfriend.”

There it was. Jesper found the urge to joke once more, lightening the situation piece by piece.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was wrong of me.” You sighed. “I was frustrated, and annoyed, but I had no right to take it out on you.”

“No, I deserved it,” The boy nodded sincerely. “I should get rid of the addiction, and trust me; I am trying.”

“It’s difficult,” you finished for him. “I know.”

“I need to say, hey It's all me, just don't go.”

“We are all fighting our own things.” He mumbled, resting his head against your knees as he looked up at you through his lashes. “But we have each other to get us out of the fire. You can’t fight the world on your own.”

You scoffed at that, slight humour laced within the tone, your sadness gradually fading. “Thoughts are the worst.”

“Yes,” Jesper laughed. “But do share them. You shouldn’t suffer alone.”

Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his. It was an uncomfortable position, but it was a gesture that was widely appreciated by both of you. Something more intimate than mere kisses.

“I still love you.” You mumbled, raising your head slightly to make eye contact with him.

That trademark Jesper wink escaped for a brief second as he stood back up, patting your lap once in reassurance.

“Love you too, love.”

“Meet me in the afterglow.”

#november writings 2022 #grishaverse #Soc #six of crows #Jesper fahey #kit young #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine

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