#six of crows imagine

: I’ve been rereading the Six of Crows duology and my love for Dirtyhands has been reignited tenfold. Got the idea for the origin story of Kaz’s infamous cane from a post I saw a while ago and decided to turn it into a short oneshot, although I’m tempted to write a part two… 

: 1017

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“How did the two of you even meet?” Nina asked around a mouthful of waffle. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the memory. Meeting Kaz Brekker - Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel - was something you thought about often. The memory was like an old photograph that you kept in your back pocket at all times so you could take it out and look at it whenever you wanted to, and it was worn and delicate because of this. Nina had a slight twinkle in her eye as you began telling her the story.

“I hadn’t been in Ketterdam very long, just a few weeks I think. I was young and I was in hiding, both of my parents lost to disease after a treacherous journey across The True Sea. To this day I don’t know how I managed to survive, let alone keep my identity a secret at such a young age. Fourteen is too young to know such grief, yet somehow I didn’t let it defeat me, it only made me stronger. Losing my parents helped me realise who I wanted to be: a girl who didn’t need anybody, a girl who would never again be weakened,” you took a sip of your sweet tea, relishing the taste. Nina always made the best tea. “I spent the savings I had on an apartment in the Barrel because it was the only place in Ketterdam where a fourteen-year-old could buy real estate without being questioned. Eventually, I gathered enough courage and enough resources to start my business.”
“Entirely unique wares,” Jesper interjected, flopping down into the empty seat next to you. “Made specifically to order for a very pretty penny.”
You smiled. “Exactly.”
“What kinds of things did people order?” Nina asked curiously.
“Bulletproof cloaks, silent pistols, knives that could cut through anything, even stone. You name it, somebody asked for it.”
Nina leaned forward in her seat, head resting on her hands. She was completely focused on you, desperate to hear the next part of your story. “And this is how you met Kaz?”
You nodded. “I remember it like it was yesterday. He knocked on my door at just gone midnight, dressed in an all-black suit and a matching hat that was far too big for his head,” you couldn’t help but giggle. “You have to remember that he was only fourteen as well and hadn’t quite grown into the role of Dirtyhands just yet.”
Jesper laughed. “I can’t imagine Kaz as a boy.”
“Neither can I,” Nina agreed.
“Well, he was. I let him in and asked if he wanted to take a seat, which he declined. Even then he was straight to the point. He asked me if I could make him a cane.”
Nina gasped. “No way…”
“I asked him what kind of cane he wanted - because nobody was coming to me for anything ordinary - and he told me that he wanted a cane that was specifically weighted to break bones.”
“Did you know who he was? Did you know that he was Dirtyhands?”
“I figured it out when he told me what he wanted,” You explained. “Anyone who was anyone in the Barrel knew about Dirtyhands and knew that he was the most ruthless lieutenant of The Dregs despite his age. I knew what he was capable of, what he’d done to earn his title, but to me, he was just a boy who needed a cane to walk properly, a boy that had turned himself into a weapon as I had. I understood why he wanted to turn his - how shall I put it? - his impairment into a weapon, and I was willing to help. I told him to come back in two days, and then I went straight to work.” 
“I can’t believe you made Kaz’s cane!” Nina exclaimed. “I can’t believe I didn’t know that!”
“I think Kaz likes to pretend that he was born as Dirtyhands with that cane in hand,” you smirked knowingly. “He doesn’t like people knowing that there was a Kaz Brekker before the Barrel.”
Nina set about making another pot of tea. “So, what happened when he came to pick it up.”
“Well, for starters, he didn’t come with any kruge in his pockets,” You remarked bitterly. “He told me he wasn’t going to pay me for it, but that he had something much more valuable.” 
Both Nina and Jesper rolled their eyes. “Of course he did. What was it?”
“An invitation to join The Dregs. He told me that my skills were invaluable and that if I agreed to join his gang I’d have a roof over my head, the opportunity to earn more money than I could even begin to comprehend and the one thing that I couldn’t seem to find no matter how hard I tried: security.”
“And you accepted?”
“I did. I hate to admit it but it didn’t take much convincing on Kaz’s part.” 
“And here you are,” Nina beamed. 
“Here I am.” 

Little did you know, Dirtyhands himself was perched at the top of the staircase, the cane in question balancing across his legs. He had been listening to your account of how you met for the better part of half an hour, eyes squeezed shut as though this would enable him to travel back in time and actually relive the moment. To this day, you had no idea how much that day had meant to him, the spark he felt upon meeting you. If he hadn’t taken such a shine to you, he probably would have paid you for the cane, but he knew he couldn’t let you go once he’d met you. Not that he’d ever tell you any of this. Most days, he could hardly even admit it to himself and he much preferred living in a state of ignorant bliss, allowing himself to believe that he’d offered you a place within the ranks of The Dregs for investment purposes only. 

It would be a cold day in hell before he told you how he really felt.

nudging the other one

Kaz Brekker x reader

Word Count: 532

Note: So this is gonna be a bit of an epilogue for the Orphan of Shadows series, but I’ll probably write more in that vein at some point tbh

“So you’re a shadow summoner too?” Jesper asked the moment the lot of you were alone in the ship for the return trip to Ketterdam. 

Honestly, you were surprised he’d managed to hold back his questions this long, so you decided to humor him at least for a moment. “Yes, Jes.”

“So was he like your father or something?”

Already, the line of questioning was making you uncomfortable. It was truly as impressive as it was grating. “No. I’m an orphan, just like I said.”

“Then how–”

“I don’t know.” Your tone was more defeated than anything. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the alarmed look Kaz caught you; you ignored it. “His mother–don’t ask–suggested I might be distantly related to them and this,” when you raised your dominant hand, you made tendrils of shadow swirl around your palm, “must be something that just cropped up in me for some reason.”

When you glanced over at Inej, the expression on her face made you immediately pull your shadow back to where it belonged. If the way she’d looked at Alina was elation and awe, the way she was looking at you now was borderline revulsion and horror. In her defense, the second she realized what she was doing, she gave you an apologetic look, but that didn’t stop the sting.

“No one can know of this,” Kaz spoke up, eyeing his crew. The look he gave you had no small amount of concern hidden deep within his gaze, only recognizable because of the bond you two shared. “If anyone knew–”

“I’d be hunted like an animal,” you muttered hatefully.

“Our lips are sealed,” Inej promised.

“Of course,” Jesper said, echoing the sentiment. “I’m just curious about how you managed to hide it without looking all …” An odd little wave of his hands served in place of a description.

“Sickly?” You scoffed. “Jes, why do you think Kaz and I pull solo jobs?”

He sat on that for a moment before realization dawned on his handsome face. “Wait, that’swhy?”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled to the ceiling as if one of the saints would come down in person to save you. “Do I even want to ask what you thought was the reason?”

“Hey, don’t use that tone with me. I’m the one that overheard your little confession back in the Fold!”

“Confession?” Inej asked, confused.

“That’s enough, Jesper,” Kaz barked, though some of the bite in his tone was washed out by the way his cheeks were turning slightly pink.

Now Jesper rolled his eyes. “Alright, boss. Keep the juicy stuff to yourself.” Turning to Inej, he asked, “How’re you feeling about this whole thing?”

With their attention off of the pair of you, you felt Kaz’s boot nudge your own. A bit nervously, you met his gaze. Even without him saying anything, you could see the warmth in his gaze that you never saw directed towards anyone else.

“I meant what I said, you know,” you found yourself murmuring so quietly that hopefully the other two wouldn’t be able to hear.

He hesitated before pressing his boot more firmly against your own. “I know.”

Word Count: 326

“anon–Request: Kaz brekker x platonic!fem!reader x crows Hi ily orphans of shadows series!!! I wanted to ask if you could do a fic where kaz finds a younger girl’s body (teen) in the harbour and he tells jesper her to the crow club so Nina can help her. When she wakes up she’s really scared of everything (because her brother threw her in the harbour) but after some time she gets used to the crows and becomes their little sister. Like they take her to school and Kaz and Matthias and Jesper protect her from the bad men of ketterdam. Change anything you like! Have a great day :)”

Note: This one was highkey giving me fits, so it’s gonna be on the shorter side. And I’m gonna have to nix the school and protection

Kaz Brekker had a policy: only keep people around if they were useful. Still he found himself wondering ‘why, oh why did I have Jes cart this girl back to the Crow Club?’ 

Inej took it as a sign that he had a heart buried in his chest after all.

Matthias thought he might have been rubbing off on the crime boss at long last. 

Nina didn’t care why she’d been brought in; her only concern was getting the girl conscious.

Jesper just enjoyed the opportunity to gently rib his boss for being nice.

All amusement and apprehension was swiftly thrown  out the window, however, when the girl started screaming as soon as she woke up.

“Who are you people?” you demanded. “I-I’m a grisha. I’ll get you!” As you said it, little sparks shot from your fingertips in what you hoped was a threatening display.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” said the woman that was crouched next to you. “I’m grisha too.”

Your eyes darted around uncertainly. “Who are you people? Why should I believe you?” You weren’t sure you’d believe anyone ever again after your brother …

“We found you in the harbor,” the young man with the cane “Care to explain why?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. “I–”

“You don’t have to tell us right now,” that was the Suli woman, the one who looked to be carrying more than one knife that you could see. “What’s your name?”

You answered quietly, trying to fold in on yourself.

“Do you have anyone that’ll be looking for you?” Cane Man spoke again.

Your answer must have been obvious on your face because there was quickly a warm hand on your shoulder. The grisha woman. “You’re welcome to stay with us. I’m Nina.”

You didn’t miss the sharp looks that were exchanged before Cane Man offered, “If you work for us, we can arrange something.”

Not seeing much choice, you agreed, “Okay.”

A/N felt like coming back to writing here now that it’s summer and i’m working on rediscovering myself in order to deal with some mental health stuff. What’s a better thing to come back with than my roots? 

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader 

Background: This is very much inspired by the main relationship dynamic in the Hulu show ‘The Great’ (if you haven’t watched it and have a hulu subscription and are old enough I’d def recommend it). Basically this is just playing into the ‘i love you, but i’m supposed to want to kill you’ trope. Also inspired by Taylor Swift’s ‘My Tears Ricochet’ (i’m obsessed with the line ‘you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same’) 

Summary: Y/n has been groomed her entire life to take over as head of a major gang. Recently, she’s been working with the Crows. Tonight, though, she’s being put to the ultimate test of loyalty. No longer is this a game of cat and unaware mouse, because now she’s supposed to kill Kaz Brekker. 

this ends on a cliffhanger bc i wanted to do a two-part thing, so let me know if you’d be interested in that or want to be tagged :))

I was first exposed to the concept of taking someone’s life when I was about seven. I don’t remember what happened, but I remember that Cassandra hadn’t meant for me to find out about it. She didn’t take any care to keep it from me, but she didn’t exactly want me walking into her office after she slit the throat of the merchant that tried taking advantage of her.

She had blinked at me, then, before telling me that forcing death was just a part of life. She didn’t react when I ran out into the hall to throw up after the man’s blood soaked into my socks. She rubbed my back gently and told me that soon I’d learn how to kill efficiently so that I wouldn’t have to stomach much.

I was ten when Cassandra made good on that promise. I still remember the day she taught me how to kill with calculation. We spent the day together, plunging blades into foam mannequins. She presented me with my first dagger that day. 

That was years ago, and somehow, by some kind of miracle, I had avoided ever having to kill someone. Cassandra raised me, meaning that there’s always been someone else around to do the dirty work. Either Cassandra would do the ugly part of a job for me or one of her upper ranking underlings would be around in order to spare me.

But today is the day where all of that changes. Not only do I have to kill someone, but I have to kill Kaz Brekker. The pit in my stomach should only exist because of my fear of retaliation. I should only be concerned about what the Bastard of the Barrel will do if he realizes my betrayal, but that’s not why I’ve felt sick all day. 

When I first started playing double agent, I didn’t think it’d end like this for so many reasons. Cassandra never told me that her overall goal was to have Kaz Brekker killed. I also really, really didn’t expect to see Kaz as a person, let alone… 

I don’t even know. I just–I hated him. I was supposed to hate him and being exposed to his cruelty and lack of regard for life made it easy. And then–then one day it started to seem like maybe he isn’t made of darkness. Maybe he’s only touched by it, maybe he only wears it because he needs to. Maybe he’s more like Cassandra than I was supposed to realize.

“You alright, dovey?” 

I should roll my eyes at Jesper’s question and relax into my seat. I should act normal so that no one will suspect anything of me. All I can manage to do is slump into my seat. “A bit of a headache,” I mumble, “You know it happens from time to time.” My dagger is sheathed beneath layers of fabric but somehow I still feel the coldness of the metal. It forces a chill through me. “And don’t call me ‘Dovey’, we’ve talked about nicknames.” 

Jesper lets his head fall to the side dramatically. My eyes move to the glass in his hand. The amber liquid sloshes with Jesper’s movements. “You’re no fun when you’re in a mood.” I open my mouth to comment on how dramatic he’s being and the fact that I’m feeling perfectly fine, but he beats me to it. “Then again, with what boss-man said, I’d be in a mood, too.” 

What–what Kaz said? “With what whosaid?” 

Sobriety attempts to grasp Jesper, but he quickly dodges it. His eyes briefly shut as he takes a sharp inhale. “You don’t know.” 

Something in my stomach knots. Did Kaz find out who I am? “Know what?” He brings a finger up to his lips, signaling that it’s a secret. “Jesper.” 

“Y/n,” he copies the sharpness of my tone. I continue to glare at him. “C’mon, don’t put me in this position, today’s been hard enough. Our job went off without an issue, don’t drag–” I don’t stop glowering. “Y/n–” He sighs once. “Fine–I don’t–I didn’t hear much, just that your name–” Jesper pauses, struggling to arrange his sentence. “Your name came up during a deal. I couldn’t quite hear everything.” 

“Well, what did you hear?”

Jesper hesitates again, eyebrows pinching together in an unsettlingly pitiful way. “Some kind of contingency thing–something that would’ve–would’ve given the other man the rights to you.”

Something in me bursts into flame. The ice of the knife strapped to my skin is suddenly welcome. An old instinct in my chest understands the meaning of Jesper’s slurred words before the rest of me does. “The rights to me?” 

Jesper shifts uneasily. “If your headache’s not going away, maybe you should just have a drink for your nerves and go to bed.” I don’t move. 

“How can someone have ‘the rights’ to me? I’m not indentured–” 

“Kaz knows how to run with an assumption when it’s convenient.”

Something in my chest turns to stone. Jesper’s drunken testimony has left gaps in the story, but it’s not exactly hard to fill in. For whatever reason, Kaz put me on the line for a deal. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to make good on his promise. Kaz could slip something into my drink. He could overpower me or have someone do it for him. He could force me into something at gunpoint. He could–he could have sold me. 

I swallow once, wiping my eyes with my palm. “Listen, y/n, Kaz says whatever he needs to–” 

“His word means something, Jesper, you know that.” 

My voice must reflect how hollow I feel inside because Jesper sighs once. “Y/n-”

I swallow once, “I’m fine, Jesper. You didn’t hear everything, and you’re drunk, and nothing happened. Everything’s fine.”

Something in my chest has stopped. He was willing to sell me. I was wagered like the gambling chips from the Crow Club. Everything Cassandra said was right. Kaz Brekker may be a criminal like the woman that raised me, but he lacks Cassandra’s one redeeming quality. He lives without humanity.

I have heard the stories, I have seen what becomes of women sold and bartered. Cassandra has stolen so many women that were owned by men like the man Kaz just did business with. The man he was willing to sell me to just to get an edge on Pekka Rollins.

Thousands of images reflect in my mind. I can see them now, their empty eyes offset only by the litter of bruises against their skin.

“Y/n–” 

“I said I’m fine, Jesper. I know how Brekker is.” I repeat, voice stern. “I just need to go to bed.” He looks like he wants to say something. “I’ll sleep it all off.” I stand, staring at a blank spot on the wall. “Don’t drink too much, alright? Just make sure you eventually find your way to a safe bed. It doesn’t even have to be yours.” 

Jesper grins, “You get me.” He sighs, adjusting his hold on his glass. “Will do, Doves, make sure to take something to make sleeping off that headache a little easier.” 

No matter how tonight goes, if I survive, I’m going to need to drink something strong. “Yeah, Jes, I’ll take care of my headache.” 

I am a phantom as I approach the stairwell. In another life, another version of events, I never entertained the idea of being Jesper’s company as he drank in celebration of our success. In that reality, what I need to do is less possible.

With shaking hands I reach towards the pocket of my dark pants. In a single slash, the blade my fingers are touching can take a life. I can extinguish a flame of destruction and Cassandra will be proud of me. She’ll realize that the child she took in was worth it.

“Y/n–” 

I turn, trying to hide how ambushed I feel. Okay…there’s nothing weird about jumping about someone’s sudden appearance. “Kaz.” 

His name stumbles awkwardly from me. Act normal. “I need to speak to you.” Speak to me, how kind of him to waste his valuable time communicating with someone who’s basically cattle. “I have some business to attend to first. Meet me in my office before the hour ends?” 

Why, is my purchaser going to be expecting me? The urge to lash out pulses through me, but that will get me nothing. Kaz is beyond reason. If I could change him, if I could spare him, I would. So I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. 

“The color’s drained from your face.” His observation is a blow to the chest. “You’re not ill. Does Nina–” 

“I’m fine.” His concern is only practical. Illness would only slow me down or make me less valuable. “Just a migraine. I’ll sleep it off tonight.” 

His eyebrows draw together for a moment. “Hm.” Please let that be the dismissal I’m looking for. “If you’re feeling uneasy, you don’t need to over concern yourself. That’s what I wanted to meet with you about.” Kaz pauses, an odd affliction crossing his features briefly. “You did good work today.” 

An unnamed feeling wedges itself between my hurt and fury. Grief–crushing, undeniable grief has found itself in me. “Thank you.” 

Kaz won’t stop looking at me directly in the eye. “I know that you’re adverse to killing and much of what I do, but you never let that translate into weakness.” 

His voice is low and uneasily patient. My chest flutters, all of my emotions curdling in my chest. Even on a normal day I wouldn’t be able to think of a good response to that. “I’ll see you before the end fo the hour.” He nods once and I turn. “Kaz,” his name comes from me without my permission, “I appreciate your acknowledgement of my lack of weakness.” 

For a second, I think he might smile. “I never said you lack weakness.” 

“I know, but your gushing approval made your true feelings clear.”

“Dear, y/n, light of my existence,” Kaz approaches me, extending a hand slowly. I become perfectly still as his pinky latches onto mine for a brief moment. My heart stops. “I have never once ‘gushed approval’.” His sarcasm seems to settle me. The corner of my mouth turns upwards. “Now, get out of my way, I have some business to deal with downstairs.”

“Doubt I could get you to ask more nicely.” 

He takes a single step forward. “Please, excuse me.” 

A final good moment with Kaz. My chest swells as I step to the side. “That’s more like it.” 

He disappears down the stairs. Okay–within the hour. I have time to-to think and to–I don’t even know. Cassandra sent me here to ruin him, to work against him so that our gang could do better. I’m a mole, not a killer. But I should have known that one day our relationship would end like this–the knife of one buried in the back of the other. 

That final thought echoes in my chest, shattering me. I make it to my room, lock the door, and sink against the wall, suppressing a sob. 

I stay like that for as long as I can justify it, but there is no putting off the inevitable. Kaz Brekker will die at my hand, and it is deserved. I wipe at my tears with the back of my palm and wash my face in the sink. Once I’m convinced that I’m presentable, I leave my room, checking for the blade secured to my thigh. It hasn’t been that long, so there’s a good chance I will have the element of surprise. That’s the only way to end this. I’ll be efficient, just like Cassandra taught me. He will not suffer, and it will not be personal. 

I walk to his office, my steps methodical. He would have sold me. He would have sold me. He would have sold me. I take a deep breath, reaching for the handle of the door to his office. I pull the dagger from its place, squeezing the hilt. He would have ruined me. 

Pushing the door open silently, I stop breathing. His tall figure is turned away from the door. Good, this way he won’t have to see me and I won’t have to feel his reaction. My steps are even until I’m within arms reach of him. Think of Cassandra, think of all he’s done. 

My blade plunges into his back. The world stops. I pull my knife out before pushing it back in. Tears swell in my eyes. Again and again, I stab him. He takes two unsteady steps before falling to his knees. I yank the knife out one final time. He collapses in front of me. 

Everything in my body shatters. Dead–Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the boy who stayed up with me after an injury left me too sore to sleep, the man who would have sold me. He used me as currency, he has disrespected and threatened me so many times, and he linked his gloved pinky with mine in order to ease me. 

I stare at his body, forcing the hurt to crash into me like violent waves. All of my fury, all of my desire to win Cassandra over, vanishes. Now all that’s left is a burning agony. 

What have I done? 

The question is screamed so loudly in my head that it feels silent. I tear my gaze from the body–his body–and stare at my knife. The end of it is coated in so much sticky, red liquid I could throw up. My hands and clothing are covered in the same thing. I drop to my knees, letting everything I’m wearing soak into his blood. My free hand covers my mouth in hopes of silencing the sound that is ripped from my throat. The urge to touch him, to feel him while he’s still warm, pours through me. But the one thing I can still offer him is the protection of his will. I will respect his wishes. So instead of dropping over him, I just stare, my fingers still gripping the damn knife. 

What have I done? 

Collected footsteps snap me out of the trans I’ve fallen into. I take two deep breaths before turning my head. If I have been caught, I deserve whatever fate I will be met with. Blinking twice, I force my eyes to adjust on the person who has found me. There is no energy in me for fear for myself, there is only heartbreak. 

Kaz. It’s–he’s alive. By some Saint granted miracle, he’s alive!

He’s standing there, watching me with the blankest expression I’ve ever seen him wear. I don’t care. I don’t care. I jump to my feet, disregarding the only man I’ve ever killed. Whoever he was, that’s something for me to feel guilty about later. Eventually, the relief will become a feeling I can manage and I’ll be able to regret the life I just took, but right now all that matters is Kaz. 

I drop the dagger, letting it clatter against the hardwood floor. I run towards him, desperate to be close enough to see his open eyes and to be aware of the rise and fall of his chest. “Kaz,” a lament, a prayer, a lifeline. 

My hand moves forward without a second thought. I link my pinky with his, the same way he did earlier. I squeeze his finger as tightly as possible, desperate to feel the fact that he’s alive. Kaz owes me nothing, but he gives me what I need. His pinky squeezes mine back, his eyes holding mine. 

I think we could have stayed like that forever. But the man that I attacked shattered our silence with a pained, exhausted groan. Our hands fall apart.