#six of crows fanfic

Sun, 13 Mar 2022 09:21:53

unfortunate17:

A Mouthful of Honey
Link:ao3 (rated T)
Summary:
“Hush. Let him speak, my dear.”
Bewilderingly, all the breath seems to go out Kaz at once. He slumps back, almost boneless, into his chair as Wylan begins to explain the physics of night and day. At first, Inej is pleased with her victory, but something about Jesper’s grin is far too conspiratorial for her liking.
She peeks over at Kaz, who is very clearly trying to avoid looking at her. Slowly, in a manner of scheming she has learned from Kaz and Kaz alone, her mind begins to turn.
—
Or, the two nicknames Inej gives Kaz and the one that he contemplates giving her.
Words:~2.7k
This was my entry for the SOC mini bang, thank you so much to the folks at @sixofcrowsbb for organizing this.
Also thank you to @rivkah94 for beta-ing this mess ❤️

#six of crows mini bang #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #unfortunate17 #sixofcrowsbb

Thu, 10 Mar 2022 18:31:19

ghostly-writer:

Six of Crows
https://archiveofourown.org/works/37443589
Kaz falls into the harbor during a freezing winter. His crows rescue him from the waters and use blanket piles and cuddling to stave off hypothermia. Kaz drops hints of his sketchy childhood. The crows are second-hand traumatized.
Let’s pretend Nina still has some of her heartrender powers in addition to the necromancy. For plot reasons.
GO HERE FOR ART BY THE TALENTED @verdiris —> https://verdiris.tumblr.com/post/677488025992921088/my-art-for-the-mini-bang-this-was-inspired-by-the
Keep reading

#six of crows mini bang #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #ghostly-writer #sixofcrowsbb

Tue, 01 Mar 2022 20:38:19

teacup-tyrant:

To Market, To Market - teacup_tyrant - Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo [Archive of Our Own]
Heyo! In case you missed the post from ace-in-a-shopping-cart earlier, here’s my fic for the @sixofcrowsbb mini bang! It’s a Young!Kaz and Jordie in Lij fic. Wholesome on the outside, full of angsty foreshadowing on the inside!
-
Summary:
“Can we go one day?” Jordie asked excitedly. “Please?”
“To Ketterdam?” Da asked, eyebrows raised. “Why would you want to go there? And who’d milk the cows while we’re away? Or water the crops and tend to the fields?”
The excitement on his face quickly turned to a scowl.
“I’ll take you one day. Maybe after the harvest. Ketterdam is a grand place, but it can also be very dangerous if you’re not careful. People can get swept up in that city by false promises and swindlers.”
-
A story of how two farm boys learned about the big city, and how one of them got the idea to leave his farm life behind.

#six of crows mini bang #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #teacup-tyrant #sixofcrowsbb

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31759444/chapters/78614212

Tue, 01 Mar 2022 20:06:22

kindness-ricochets:benjaminrussell:Come one, come all, to the Bloemstraat Park Market!My contributio

kindness-ricochets:

benjaminrussell:
Come one, come all, to the Bloemstraat Park Market!
My contribution for the @sixofcrowsbb mini bang! Created for @kindness-ricochets‘ wonderful fic, Journey to the Bloemstraat Park Market, which was betaed by @elledritchorror.
Page 1 hi res|Page 2 hi res
[Image ID: Photos of a two-page beige leaflet, split into three sections each. The first photo is the front of the leaflet, the second is of the back of the leaflet, and the third and fourth are of each side of the unfolded leaflet. At the top of the first page, taking up the left and middle sections, there are Ravkan and Kerch articles of clothing on display, and to the left, the text reads “CLOTHING | Nastasya’s Wardrobe | Traditional Ravkan clothes” and “Vinke’s | The latest Kerch fashions, tailoring and alterations”. Below that, there is text that reads “ENTERTAINMENT | For the children, Stegenga’s Puppet Show - starting on the hour, every hour!”, and to the left of the text there is an image of a puppet show taking place. Below the puppet show section, there are two images; one of various postcards & the other of thick, somewhat round pieces of bone, and to the left of those is text reading “AND MORE! | Postcards from Kerch and abroad. Saint’s bones and other religious icons. If you can imagine it, someone here might sell it!” On the third panel, the text at the top reads “BLOEMSTRAAT PARK MARKET | Ketterdam’s most diverse market!” with the second part of the text in cursive. There is an image of a grassy park with trees and some people with the text “OPEN DAILY!” splashed diagonally across the bottom right corner. Beneath that, there is text reading “Opening Times | MON-FRI 9AM-4:30PM | SAT-SUN 10AM-3PM” (first part of text is in cursive) and more text underneath reading “Location | BLOEMSTRAAT PARK | GOVERNMENT DISTRICT | KETTERDAM, KERCH” (again, first part of text is in cursive).]
[Image ID continued: At the top left of the second page, there are two images: one of two bao buns and the other of lemons, limes and oranges arranged on a plate. To the right of them, text reads “FOOD | Zihun’s Street Food | Hot, fresh Shu style food” for the buns and “Haruna Grocers | All manner of citrus fruits, and other Zemeni imports” for the fruits. Beneath that is text reading “BOOKS | The Book Cabin | Books and pamphlets from Kerch and beyond”, and to its right are two images, one of various colourful pamphlets and the other of a stack of brown leather-bound books. Below this are two images, one of a collection of spinning tops on a table and the other of two dolls. The text to its right reads “TOYS | The Toybox | Dolls, wooden toys, puzzles, flags - all sorts of toys for young and old”. On the far right panel, the words “SACRED IS GHEZEN AND IN COMMERCE WE SEE HIS HAND” have two swirly teardrop shapes, swirls pointing to the text, above and beneath them, and below is a map of the Government District of Ketterdam, with a star near the Stadhall and a line pointing to it, with the caption “WE ARE HERE”. Below the map is text reading “For general inquiries or to sell at the market, contact Luuk Braam, Ketterdam Mercher Council, Stadhall, Ketterdam” and at the very bottom of the panel, the text “Printed by de Hass Printers”. end ID]
This is so cool! I’ve seen it before and am still totally floored by the detail in it; this seriously looks like a real market pamphlet–the map, the printer info, homage to Ghezen… just so cool. I was so lucky to work with @benjaminrusselland@elledritchorror.
As that was my bit, here’s the fic promo!

Journey to Bloemstraat Park Market
Tags: Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Domestic, Chores, Trans Wylan Van Eck, Genderfluid Character, Body Dysphoria, Eating Disorders, Shopping, Kittens, Fluff and Angst, Recovery
Summary: With Ketterdam beginning to come out of quarantine, Jesper and Wylan visit the market to find lemons. Just lemons. Distractions in the form of other market stalls, one another, and stray kittens turn what should be a quick errand into a veritable quest. Meanwhile Wylan is trying to define his identity as a genderfluid trans boy.

Six of Crows mini bang was organized by @sixofcrowsbb (signups for the big bang are still open! It’s a super friendly and chill environment with very cool mods. And I’d say that even if they weren’t tagged in this post!)

Post link

#six of crows mini bang #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #kindness-ricochets #sixofcrowsbb

@the bang of the barrel

Mon, 28 Feb 2022 21:52:24

‘Healing takes time and work, but Kaz and Inej have been putting in the hours. While once it seemed that they may always have to love each other at a distance, it now couldn’t be further from the case. Although, Inej’s thoughts have been wandering, and now she isn’t sure what they are working towards. Even though the possibility that had once seemed so slim is now an option, is sex something she wants? Is it something Kaz wants?

And if the answer is no, what happens then?

A coming-out-to-herself fic in which Inej and Kaz explore intimacy and come to the conclusion that, for them, sex isn’t a part of the equation.’

Over the course of Pride Month, I have written a 15k fic of ~~projection~~ healthy, happy asexual Inej and Kaz working out a relationship together. I’m so very proud of it, and I hope that it will be as pleasing to read as it was for me to write. It took me a long time to work out exactly how to explore this topic with Kaz and Inej in a way that was respectful of their trauma while still allowing them to heal from it, but I think I’ve done it. They deserve some joy together.

Please note: although the plotline and central theme of the story is Inej realising and embracing her asexuality, there are frank discussions of sex and some on-the-page sensual/sexual intimacy. I thought it was worth flagging as this is a fic primarily about ace identities, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do skip this one.

And happy Pride Month, especially to my fellow asexual and aromantic spectrum people! <3

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #kanej fanfic #asexual inej ghafa #demisexual kaz brekker #grishaverse

#a hotel on the board is worth two on the geldstraat #six of crows #six of crows fic #grishaverse big bang #six of crows fanfic #kaz x inej #jesper x wylan #nina x matthias

Sun, 27 Jun 2021 17:34:58

All seven chapters of my fic for the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 are now out!

I had such a wonderful time writing it, and it was an incredible experience having an idea of mine be the starting point for so many stunning pieces of artwork. If you haven’t already checked it out, click here to read the final chapter on AO3, and click here to read from the beginning! Please do check out the title tag - all the artwork that has been posted will be under it (plus it’s linked within the fic too!).

Thank you so much to the amazing artists who worked on this project, and special mention to my beta reader Dav for all the support both grammatically and motivationally. It’s been wonderful.

Now I’m off to pack for university whoops. See you soon!

#a hotel on the board is worth two on the geldstraat #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fic #kaz x inej #jesper x wylan #nina x matthias

Sat, 25 Sep 2021 18:38:28

Here it comes: Kaz gets involved with Monopoly. And it goes exactly as you’d expect.

Chapter 2 of my fic for the GVBB is now out! Click here to read it in full on AO3, and there is an excerpt from the beginning of the chapter below the cut.

Please do check out the incredible art that was made alongside this fic if you haven’t already - I was absolutely stunned by the beauty of every single piece, and it’s an honour to have it exist as part of this story that I have written. Check the tags for the name of this fic - all art and updates relating to it will under that tag.

I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 2 - “Can someone please explain human decency to Kaz?”

“We’re just… off duty, boss.”

For someone usually as quick with his words as his gunwork, Jesper was jarringly quiet. None of them liked Kaz in a bad mood, but fortunately his displeasure was typically aimed at someone other than his crew. Which made it all the more painful when they were on the receiving end.

“Off duty, in my office, after I told you to wait for a shipment at the Exchange?” Kaz barked.

“Well, you said to wait until it came in, and I saw it come in. Saw the captain fill out the import documents in their office, saw them unload the shipment. Made off with something that looked promising, you know.”

Kaz braced his cane in front of him, both hands resting on the head and pressing down with force. He inhaled slowly. It felt like everyone else was holding their breath, afraid to take more than their fair share of the air supply in the stiflingly small attic room.

“I send you down to watch the incoming shipments,” Kaz said, his voice carefully controlled but increasing in volume as he spoke, “and you pick up the shiniest case of contraband you can see before abandoning your post to play board games?”

Jesper shifted nervously in his chair; Inej put a hand on his knee. “With all due respect, you didn’t tell me to stay there. You sort of implied it, perhaps, but—”

“If I thought I had to word my orders that specifically, Jesper, I would buy a trained monkey to lift shipments for me instead. Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”

Jesper’s mouth twitched, and Inej could almost see him resisting the urge to do an ape-like impression just to watch Kaz lose his temper. Thankfully, the impulse passed, and there was no shouting. Wylan had been silent the entire time, slowly spinning his token on the board with a focused gaze that reminded Inej of a child trying to stay out of a familial fight. Nina was smirking, prompting Matthias to give her a warning eyebrow raise. To Inej’s surprise, Kaz was now looking directly at her.

“I expect better of all of you…“ he said, trailing off. She glared at him, and he held her gaze. "You’re no better than them, Inej.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jesper interjected, putting his hands up between her and Kaz. “Don’t take this out on anyone else. My fault, I’ll accept responsibility for the all-round shirking going on.”

“You will.” Kaz’s stare was always hard, but it was especially flinty on this occasion.

“This can be fixed,” Inej said, getting up to stand with Kaz. “It’s easy enough to go back down to the Exchange and pick up the rest of the cargo.”

He turned his dark eyes on her, and Inej waited for them to soften slowly as they always did. The aggression that Kaz was quick to utilise usually faded equally fast nowadays; she reached out and laid her hand on his sleeve, watching the anger leach out of his expression.

Kaz sighed. “Jesper, this was important, and you messed up badly.”

“I can promise you that I’m sorry and it was a genuine misunderstanding,” came his reply, “but there’s no need to be a dick about this.”

With a sharp shake of his head, Kaz prepared to extend the argument further. “How else can I expect you to…” Fortunately, he lost steam, and Inej fixed him with a severe look. “Okay. I’ll accept your apology with some changed behaviour. We’re going to the Exchange right now, both of us.”

“Does he have to?” Wylan asked, a slight whine creeping into his question. “We’ve just gotten stuck into our game. What even is it that came in with the boat?”

“That shipment contained cargo smuggled in under the names of half of the Merchant Council. Whatever it is they had brought in, they wanted it done quietly. I made it my business to find out exactly what they want kept secret so badly.”

Jesper gave a low whistle, and Matthias nodded stoically. This wasn’t just some small job that Kaz had wanted Jesper on - he had trusted him with something incredibly valuable for a change. Inej wondered how much of Kaz’s disappointment had been related to the shipment, and how much of it was towards his perceived betrayal.

“How much is there to collect?” She asked.

“Four crates and a trunk.”

“Well, we have the contents of the trunk up here,” Nina said, gesturing to the board set up on the desk.

“So kind of you to lay it all out neatly in my office.” Kaz’s tone was sardonic but no longer cruel. “I take it there was nothing of use to me in there?”

“Just some scarves, books, a coat, two guns and this game,” Wylan relayed. “Jesper has the guns, but everything else is still here.”

“And you’ve examined everything thoroughly?” Kaz inquired, his gaze now school-masterly.

Inej gave a sheepish smile. “We were a little more focused on figuring out how to play this game than checking everything for valuable knowledge.”

“I’ll take a look later myself with Inej’s help. For now, we need to get the crates back to the Slat without causing a disturbance at the Exchange. Jesper, you can make it up to me by not complaining about the walk. Come on.”

“We’re still in the middle of the game, Kaz!” Wylan protested. Already halfway towards the door, Kaz rolled his eyes as he turned back to face them.

“A game that you shouldn’t be playing right now, as it stands. Jesper, don’t be an ass about this. Get up.”

Read more here!

Tue, 07 Sep 2021 10:58:57

‘A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat’ - Chp. 1!

Gang banner by @verdiris

A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat

A trunk of contraband items ends up in the hands of the Crows, but the item that piques their curiosity most is the large box labelled “MONOPOLY”. Kaz is out of the Slat for the time being, so of course they decide to play it. Was there ever a mission more likely to fail than six criminals with lethal skills and undeniable emotional ties all trying to build a make-believe empire without killing each other in the process? Answer: yes - all of the above while attempting to pull off a heist at the same time.

Turns out board games weren’t the only interesting items shipped into Fifth Harbour that afternoon, and now the Razorgulls are interested. It will take all of the gang’s effort to break into two buildings full of rival gang members, regain possession of the contraband, and make it back to the Slat in one piece. And that’s without the inherent strains of playing at business negotiations with a group of decidedly underhand friends.

Join the Crows as they cheat, steal, lie, and bribe each other, all before the heist has even begun.

I am so excited to finally get to share the fic that I have been working on for the @grishaversebigbang over the last few months - A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat! Getting to take part in the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 has been so much fun, and I have had the honour of working with an absolutely incredible gang of artists and the loveliest beta reader. It’s been an absolute blast, and this is one of my favourite things that I’ve written. Thank you so much to everyone that I’ve worked with, and I hope that you enjoy reading and admiring the story and art that we’ve created!

Here is everyone in my gang, with links to the work that they’ve created (some art may relate to chapters of the fic that haven’t been posted yet - the fic will be posted in its entirety within the next 3 weeks and the art will be linked within the fic on the relevant lines, but also there’s nothing that will spoil the story for you, so don’t worry!):

Corporalki:@davonysus (who is the most wonderful beta reader, thank you for everything that you contributed to this story!)

Materialki:

@ciph3rrr with hilarious Crows-minus-Kaz Monopoly shenanigans from Chapter 1
@j-wirth with this brilliant Inej and Wesper moment inspired by Chapters 2 and 7
@bloodysusher with a gorgeous group moment in Chapter 7
@verdiris with some amusing Kaz geniusness from Chapter 7
@maximumbluebirdpatrol (link still to come)
@emmaxtw (link still to come)

There are 7 chapters in total, so I shall be uploading a new one every Tuesday and Saturday until 25th September. Look below the cut for an excerpt from Chapter 1, and if you want to read the full thing (and check out the collection of all the other incredible pieces created for the GVBB) then click either of the links. I hope that you enjoy!

AHOTBIWTOTG Chapter 1 Excerpt:

The front door of the Slat opened with a loud clatter, and slammed shut on itself seconds later. It made Inej jump in her seat as she sat going over ship documentation - which, as it turned out, there was a lot of - in the front room. Nina gave her a look, and Inej wrinkled her nose back at her; the Wraith didn’t startle easily, but equally, there was usually less banging of doors while she tried to organise her finances.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Came Jesper’s voice. “And I brought treats!”

“It had better be more exciting than that time you came back from Cilla’s Fry with meat pies,” Inej called back. “That was underwhelming.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nina chimed in. “I was more than happy to finish up those.”

“We know.” Matthias gave her a knowing look, and Wylan sniggered as she raised a single finger at him in response.

The bickering that came from everyone trying to work on separate projects at the same time was one of the many reasons that Inej hadn’t made it past the first page of her sailing license. That being said, she joined in the chuckling at Nina’s expense.

“Oh, it’s definitely better than Cilla’s pies, but you’ll have to take a look for yourself.”

Jesper rounded the corner, a large trunk tucked under one slim arm. His face was bright from the brisk, cold air of the streets, and a bead of sweat dropped from his chin as he deposited the luggage on the table beside Inej. She sighed heavily as the wad of pages in front of her jumped with the sudden extra weight.

“Sorry,” Jesper grinned. She just rolled her eyes fondly in response.“Come on, who wants to see what I’ve got?”

Nina, Matthias and Wylan all got up from the neighbouring table and crowded around Inej and Jesper. It was uncomfortable having so many significantly taller people stood behind her while she was sitting, so Inej scooped up her papers and deposited them on the floor, taking their place on the table so that she could get a good look at the trunk.

“Where did you get that?” Matthias asked.

“Well, our dearest Kaz decided to put me on shipment duty and I had to wait around at the Exchange for a boat full of contraband to come in. It took hours, so as soon as I saw something that looked interesting, I used my innumerable skills to swipe it so that we could take a look inside.”

““Innumerable” is a long word for you,” Nina quipped.

A bubble of laughter rose up amongst the group, and Jesper stuck his tongue out childishly. “Fine, no contraband for you.”

“No, I want to look!”

“Be nice, then. I get first dibs on anything cool because I found it.”

Matthias snorted. “What happened to the ancient rule of “finder’s keepers”?”

“I found the trunk, therefore I found anything that’s inside it by proxy.”

“Can we just open it up?” Wylan said impatiently. “I feel like we’re building expectations by arguing like this – it’s probably smuggled whiskey or something.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Kaz?” Inej asked. The others gave her a look of incredulity. “Where is he, anyway?”

There was a brief moment of looking at each other for answers, before Jesper answered decisively. “If he was so worried about what came in on the boat, he would’ve gone himself. And if he isn’t here now, then he’ll just have to accept whatever is left over from the spoils.”

“We aren’t actually pirates, you know,” Inej said.

“Not yet,” Jesper stage-whispered in reply, and Inej found herself grinning, pleased. “Gather around, then.” He beckoned everyone closer like a ringmaster at the centre of a performance.

Inej was surprised to find that her heart was actually beating faster with the thought of what might be inside. Wylan was probably right that they were getting themselves worked up over nothing, but all the same, she couldn’t help hoping that they found something rare or exciting. Perhaps it was gold? Guns? Something dangerous? You could never know when it came to the imports of Ketterdam, and for once Inej was glad for the intensity of life in the city. It could very well be something extraordinary.

The catches on the front of the trunk lifted easily, but there was a thick knot of string around the middle as well. Jesper struggled to untie it, so Inej slipped a knife from her sleeve and cut it off with one flick of her wrist. Giving her a mischievous look, Jesper dug his fingernails under the lid and with a crackle of flaking rust, the trunk opened.

On top there was a loose gauzy scarf clearly intended to keep moisture out of the trunk on the long sea voyage, which had definitely served its purpose; the red print had blotted itself onto the inside of the lid, and there were water stains on it where it had protected the rest of the cargo. Matthias and Nina went to grab it at the same time, but it ended up in Nina’s hands regardless as he passed it to her with a shy smile.

“I thought you would want it, so I was making sure no-one else got there first.”

Wylan made an exaggerated gagging noise, and Matthias’ expression quickly reverted to his familiar scowl.

“Aha!”

Jesper reached forward and pulled out two pistols, both only a little rusty and with a single blue gem stamped into the body of each. With impressive speed he turned around and mimed firing two shots at the wall before holstering them beside his favoured revolvers.

As Matthias pulled out a slim soft-covered book, Inej realised that she was far too focused on the discoveries of her friends and was going to miss out on finding her own treasures otherwise. Lifting up two more scarves – this time green and blue – she found another couple of books which she handed to Nina. Her friend’s focus was pulled away from adjusting her hair under her newly matching scarf to flicking through the pages and wrinkling her nose hard.

“I don’t recognise the language, but I can understand it well enough,” Nina mused.

“Where did the boat come in from, Jesper?” Wylan asked as he opened a small wooden keepsake box full of golden rings in varying levels of ornate decoration.

“Kaz didn’t say, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t pay much attention.”

Nina tutted and continued her reading with Matthias peering over her shoulder. With fingers now covered in rings, Wylan pulled out a long fur coat that smelt of mould. Removing its furry cuffs from the case, Inej reached into the trunk for what seemed to be the last item: a big box made of thick card, with a green cover and the word MONOPOLY emblazoned on the top. The lettering was incredibly clear, but it didn’t look as though it had been done by hand or with a printing press. It had an odd shiny feel to the outside as well, like it had been coated in order to keep out the damp.

Inej sat it on the table and lifted the lid. It came off easily, and revealed a large square of that same thick card in bright red that unfolded into a larger board with regular markings on it.

“What in the Saints’ names is that?” Nina remarked, putting down her reading material.

“I have no idea. It was at the bottom of the trunk.”

“Is it a map?” Wylan suggested.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Inej murmured as she put the board down and looked at what was left in the box.

Underneath that map-like object was a tray divided into several compartments, with little silver tokens collected in one, some colourful playing cards of an unknown variety in another, and some appealing little houses done in an unusual material in both green and red. Beside those lay a rack of what looked like currency, in the same shape and thickness as notes of kruge. Jesper immediately started rifling through it all, mixing up the various collections and inspecting them all with irregular attention. Although Wylan slapped his hand away with a tut, it clearly wasn’t out of lack of interest.

“What is it?” Nina asked again. Taking the board in her hands, she began to stumble through the words written on it.

“Collect 200… something, looks like it could be a currency symbol because it says “salary” after that, as you pass GO… Old Kent Road, another amount of money… sixty? Community chest, Whitechapel Road, same amount of money as the other square…”

As she turned it over in her hands, a slim white booklet fell out onto the table. Inej started forward and managed to snatch it up before anyone else did, although the gesture was useless as she immediately handed it to Nina, who skimmed over the first few lines and let out a delighted noise.

“It’s a game! A board game! Seems like you play by going around the board which has place names marked out on it, and you buy up the land so that you can build houses on it. And you compete to earn the most money.”

“Who’s sending weird foreign board games to Ketterdam?” Wylan said incredulously. “Are you sure it’s not got something contraband hidden in there somehow?”

Inej laughed. “Does a game based on financial gain not strike you as the most Kerch thing in the world? I can well believe a mercher bought this to educate their children on the fun of working under Ghezen.”

Wylan cracked a grin at that, and Nina snorted. She pushed the box towards him.

“Take a look if you want.”

He lifted up the tray of items and ran his fingers along the underside, then looked inside each of the little model houses as if there might be gemstones wedged in the base like on Jesper’s guns. Wylan tapped along the top of the board, but there were no hidden compartments or secret openings. It seemed as though they had genuinely come across some kind of entertainment from another country.

“Shall we play it?” Jesper said with a broad grin at everyone. “We’ve got nothing else on, have we?”

“I’m meant to have applied for my sailing license by the end of next week,” Inej said weakly, but she wasn’t much interested in her own excuse. This bizarre-looking game they had stolen by chance had already caught her attention far more than boat permits and crew-hiring documents.

“I’m happy to,” Matthias said, and Nina and Wylan nodded fervently as well.

“Perfect! Let’s not disturb everyone’s things down here, we can take it into another room.”

“Nobody’s bedrooms are big enough,” Nina complained. “Kaz is too cheap to give us enough space to actually enjoy our stay at The House of Brekker.”

“His bedroom is, though.”

Sat, 04 Sep 2021 11:46:17

Any relevant content warnings are included in the tags/notes of each work. Please check tags and full synopses for more details. Inspirations/prompts are credited in the relevant fic.

Ace (15.4k words) [Kaz/Inej, general relationships] - As Kaz and Inej slowly begin to work through their trauma and their relationship becomes more physical, Inej’s thoughts turn to intimacy and sex - and whether the latter is something she even wants from their relationship. A loving depiction of an asexual relationship between an aspec Kaz and Inej. Contains discussions of sex and some on-the-page sensual and sexual intimacy.

A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat(23.7k words) [Kaz/Inej, Jesper/Wylan, Nina/Matthias, general relationships] - When the Crows discover a Monopoly board amongst a shipment of contraband, all other plans get postponed. Until, that is, they discover that the Razorgulls have made off with the rest of the contraband. Boardgame hijinks and heists ensue. Written as part of the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021.

A Push In The Right Direction (5.3k words) [Kaz/Inej, Jesper/Wylan, Nina/Matthias, general relationships] - A young boy walks home from school in Ketterdam one evening, pondering what he has learned of the city from his mother’s warnings, and running across a few familiar faces. An exploration of what Ketterdam could become in the aftermath of SoC/CK, and where the characters might be thirty years on from their heist. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Blood on Marble Tiled Floors (2.9k words) [Kaz/Inej] - The Bathroom Scene, but reversed. Kaz has rather predictably taken another beating in a street fight, and has made it back to the Van Eck mansion to sort himself out. Inej finds him dripping blood all over the bathroom, and offers to help him clean up. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Heterosexual Mercher Function (2.6k words) [Jesper/Wylan] - Kaz takes full advantage of Wylan’s connections and makes both him and Jesper stake out a mercher ball. Turns out that Wylan can fit in among the gentry far better than Jesper had expected. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Hope is the thing with Feathers (6.5k words) [Kaz/Inej, general relationships] - Captain Inej Ghafa has returned to Ketterdam for the first time in three years, and reunites with her old gang mates. She has no idea what to expect from seeing Kaz, Jesper, and Wylan again, but it certainly wasn’t an invitation to tea at the Slat with Kaz following their evening meal. Written for the Grishaverse Reverse Mini-Bang 2021.

A2k word version written specifically for the Mini-Bang can also be found here.

Hotwiring A Van Is Easier In Principle (8.5k words) [Nina/Matthias, Kaz/Inej, Jesper/Wylan] - In a modern AU, the Crows all go on a road trip together. But the van breaks down just a few miles away from the nearest garage. Told in three parts, each following one of the couples until they can get back on the road and continue their journey.

If At First You Don’t Succeed (6.2k words) [Kaz/Inej, general relationships] - Kaz and Inej use flowers as a way to communicate their love for each other without needing to express it verbally or physically. But when a mistake leads to Inej feeling unsafe in their home, it will take more than just flowers for Kaz to reassure her of his intentions.

Love Languages in a Time Of Touch Aversion (3.7k words) [Kaz/Inej] - Incomplete. When trying to be intimate together while still considering their limitations, Kaz is struck by how much he loves Inej’s hair. A new love language is born.

On His Mind (3.4k words) [Kaz/Inej] - As much as Kaz knows he has to let Inej leave, it doesn’t sit right with him. His subconscious makes him confront this decision to let her go through a series of dreams, finally prompting him to reconsider his priorities. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Oranges for Breakfast (3.1k words) [Kaz/Inej] - After Kaz buys Inej The Wraith, she feels that it is important to clarify that little gestures mean more to her than grand ones. Kaz eventually gets it right. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Reasons To Start A Snowball Fight (2.4k words) [Nina/Matthias] - Nina and Matthias are in Fjerda for a holiday. With most places shut down for the winter, Nina decides to take advantage of Matthias’ traditional tastes and buys herself a sweater so that they can embrace the snow and have some fun. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Sleepover (3.4k words) [Kaz/Inej, general relationships] - After a lovely meal at the Van Eck mansion with himself, Inej and Jesper, Wylan manages to convince Kaz to spend the night. Inej is delighted. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Smile (2.7k words) [Kaz/Inej, general relationships] - Set pre-Six of Crows, Inej realises that nobody has ever seen Kaz smile and so sets out on a private mission to see him do so. Nina and Jesper are incredulous, but apparently all it takes is Inej making accidental innuendos. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Sun on Christmas Day (5.7k words) [Jesper/Wylan] - The cold grey winters in Ketterdam are making Wylan miserable, so Jesper suggests that they visit his father and spend Christmas in Novyi Zem. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Swings and Roundabouts (3.2k words) [Kaz/Inej] - A Suli carnival comes to Ketterdam, and Inej is permitted to use their acrobatics equipment. Kaz joins her one morning. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

The Right Fit (5.3k words) [Kaz/Inej, general relationships] - Inspired by some brief dialogue in the Shadow and Bone Netflix show, this is the time in which Kaz picked up a man’s uniform for Inej while on a mission and realised that she was exactly the person he wanted on his side - and perhaps even by his side.

The Time Kaz Made An Innuendo On A Stake-Out (2k words) [Kaz/Inej] - Kaz might be a tiny bit desperate to make Inej laugh, but he absolutely didn’t want it to be because of an unfortunate misreading. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Think Less (2.7k words) [Kaz/Inej] - Kaz and Inej work through Kaz’s busy thoughts in order to allow themselves a first kiss. Turns out that he thinks a lot less when he’s focused on kissing Inej. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

Tricks Only A Con Artist Knows (3.3k words) [Kaz/Inej] - While on a business trip in Ravka, Kaz and Inej visit a fair. Kaz finally relaxes, and Inej gets to take advantage of Kaz’s softer side as they enjoy the beach, local delicacies, and mildly appropriative magic shows that a Ravkan fair can offer. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

What Counts as a Love Language? (2.2k words) [Nina/Matthias, Jesper/Wylan, general relationships] - While the Crows (minus Kaz) are drinking in the Crow Club, Nina makes a bet with Jesper over who can make their boyfriend blush the most. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

White Sheets, Black Hair (1.4k words) [Kaz/Inej] - Kaz and Inej share a bed for the first time. It takes some minor discomfort and boundary setting, but they wouldn’t miss out on it for the world. Written as part of SOFTober 2020.

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fic #kaz x inej #wesper #jesper x wylan #helnik #nina x matthias #fanfiction #fanfic

Thu, 12 Aug 2021 17:20:43

For the Grishaverse Reverse Mini-Bang 2021, run by @grishaversebigbang, and with stunning art created by @wqemzz-blog - click here for her incredible illustration of Kaz and Inej!

Captain Inej Ghafa has returned to Ketterdam for the first time in three years. In all that time, The Wraith never docked at Berth 22 for more than an afternoon, and the crew never strayed further than the harbour front.
Could she have stopped by sooner? Absolutely. Did she choose not to for entirely business-related reasons? Absolutely not.
She has no idea what her friends will make of seeing her again after so long, least of all Kaz. But there is hope - hope that in that time, he will have grown as much as she has. That he will be the kind of person that she can share a pot of tea with without a thought of how he might feel about her.
Because Inej isn’t done with being a pirate yet. But it doesn’t mean she wants to be at sea forever.

I had the best time getting to write thisfic based on the idea proposed by Emma.So much of a good time, in fact, that I overwrote it by around 4k words in the end… This is the much more civilised 2k word version - the full iteration of the story is on my AO3 ), but this significantly neater version will remain on my Tumblr for good.I really hope that you like it, and check out @wqemzz-blog for all your beautiful art needs!

Link to the fic on AO3: ‘Hope is the thing with Feathers’

And available to read below the cut here:

‘Hope is the thing with Feathers’

It occurred to Inej as she entered Kaz’s office for the first time in three years, that in the past she might have second-guessed the meaning of his offer to have tea together. They had just spent a few hours talking during dinner – mostly talking over Jesper and Wylan, who had hosted the meal and were either polite or forgiving enough to allow them to dominate the conversation with reflections on Inej’s time beyond Ketterdam. Three years was a long time when you had last been teenagers breaking into the Ice Court together, when you were now the owner of a galleon that hunted slaver ships from Fjerda to the Wandering Isle. There was plenty to discuss between them, and it seemed that Kaz had changed enough to ask her to stay with no apprehension, so that they could be in each other’s company a little while longer.

The attic room was identical to her memories of it but her gaze was drawn to Kaz, with ungloved hands, stooping to open the cupboard and bring out two tins. With a tentative look at her, he placed them on the desk and opened them. Inej couldn’t help laughing.

“When did Dirtyhands start keeping cookies in his office?” she teased. “Two kinds, as well.”

He gave a permissive smile. “Nina may have had more influence over me than I would like to admit. She sends them to me from Ravka.”

Feeling a bittersweet rush of longing for her friend, Inej reached over and helped herself to an iced biscuit with a red star on the top as Kaz took the other tin and started to make them tea. The room filled with the smell, quiet clinking noises coming from the cupboard again as Kaz fetched cups and saucers, and Inej watched him from the corner of her eye as she nibbled. He had taken off his jacket, and Inej could see the strong line of his shoulders as he prepared their drinks. Yes, a younger version of herself would have been much more flustered than Captain Ghafa, as she was now. She might have told herself stories about how invested Kaz was, about his tactics and techniques for making her trust him – for making her want to stay. Now she had no such worries. She was in the bedroom of an old friend – an old partner, in many ways – and they were sharing a pot of tea.

Inej smiled as she turned away from sneaking glances at Kaz and looked out of the window instead, at the uncharacteristically beautiful light that was shining in. The fog of the early afternoon had lifted, and Ketterdam seemed to concentrate every scrap of colour on painting the evening sky in crimson and gold. It felt like a personal display from the city, like it was finally welcoming her in. She couldn’t believe that she had been away for so long.

“Can I open the window?” she asked. Kaz chuckled.

“You have never once asked my permission to open a window.” Kaz brought over their cups and placed them on the sill, where Inej was now sitting, and obligingly opened it for her.

A gentle breeze entered the room, tickling Inej’s cheek. She closed her eyes for a second and forgot that she had ever been away. The sensation of being here – in Kaz’s office, on the windowsill, letting the fading sunlight warm her skin – made her feel so young and so old at the same time. It was like slipping into an outfit she hadn’t worn in years, feeling the ways it had always fit her, and the ways that she had grown since. Inej was nothing like the girl that Kaz had once known, but she didn’t feel so different when she was back here, just a little taller and a little more forgiving.

Kaz brought over a plate with more cookies, taking a large one heavily studded with chocolate, and leaned against the wall. It had been three years, but still they were so comfortable existing in a space like this together, breathing in the warm air. She took a sip of her tea, and tasted honey. Just the way she had always liked it.

“You look well,” he said, not breaking the silence but disrupting it, like ripples on a pond. “The sea suits you.”

“Thank you. I rather like it too. Ketterdam has continued to suit you – is that a new scar on your jaw, or have I just never noticed it?”

“It’s new. About a year ago I was very nearly shot in the face by a Razorgull. Fortunately Jesper manipulated the bullet at the last second and I was only burnt.”

She inhaled sharply in sympathy, and Kaz shrugged. “It healed quickly, and that’s all I ask for.”

“Do you ever think you’ll end up more scar than skin?” she said, half in jest and half with sincerity. As the words left her mouth, she thought of how closely her question came to the kind of Suli proverb that she had goaded him with previously. That she had tested him with.

“Not anymore.”

His reply was unexpectedly thoughtful. Inej turned to him, and he gave a soft smile.

“The Dregs don’t get caught up in the same trouble that they used to. There’s less chance for me to get hurt.”

“I’m glad.”

She took a cookie, a chocolate one like Kaz’s, and bit into it. It crumbled instantly, scattering crumbs all down her chin and the front of her waistcoat. Kaz saw; there was a beat of silence and then laughter, Inej’s giggles muffled by the cookie.

“You pirates make our manners look sophisticated,” he commented. She swatted the air in front of him.

“My manners haven’t suffered at all, I’ll have you know!”

“My poor windowsill. I’ll have to clean it now.”

“It could probably do with a clean if you’re anything like you used to be,” she replied, and Kaz raised an eyebrow at her.

“I always cleaned the windows frequently.”

“Specifically the windows.”

He tilted his shoulder and looked out across the city. The gilded roofs stretched from the harbour all the way to the Barrel. Inej watched him as he absorbed it all, taking a sip of tea, adjusting the cup in his bare hands. He looked exactly the way she had hoped to find him – a little stronger, a little harsher, that new scar dimpling the line of his jaw like a tally on a gun barrel, but unmistakeably the same Kaz that she had left behind. He looked every bit the young man that he was – handsome, clever, mean.

“You loved to sit here and look out. I always made sure you’d be able to.”

“Oh.”

She was glad he kept looking at the view. To lock eyes with him then might have done something to her – made her feel another way. A way she had felt for a long time, that she had stifled. Inej focused her gaze on the broken pieces of cookie in her hand, crumbling it more. Everything felt quietly loud; gentle, but unrelenting.

The familiar click of claws on tiles came from a little further along the roof.

Kaz leaned towards the sound. “They must have recognised you,” he smiled, “The crows have come back.”

Inej made an elated noise and turned herself to look. There they were – a little murder of crows, with sharp eyes and sharp beaks, cawing as politely as crows could.

“I can’t believe it,” she murmured.

“They stopped visiting when you left. They knew you were here.”

“No,” she said, delighted but disbelieving. He nodded.

Inej watched them move, alert and intelligent, talking to her. She remembered Kaz’s decrial of them as mannerless and untrustworthy, but when she scooped up some cookie crumbs and held them out, they arranged themselves neatly to feed from her hand. Her hands were rough now from the years of sailor’s work, but she could still feel the smoothness of their beaks as they pecked and the trace of their feathers on her fingers.

“I missed them too.”

Kaz took another sip. “Were seagulls not friendly enough?”

She laughed. “They were friendly in their own way – they certainly ate up scraps quite well. But I couldn’t feed them like this. They didn’t wait for me like the crows always did.”

“They were always looking for you to come back.” His voice was as gravelly as ever, but Inej felt a hint of longing as he spoke. With the last of the crumbs gone, she brushed off her hands and turned back towards the room, to look at him. The expression he wore was the one that she remembered most vividly, and with the least joy; that inscrutable intensity that made her feel transparent. He was looking inside of her, and she struggled to translate what he had seen from the look he was giving her.

“Do you ever wish you had stayed here instead?” Kaz asked.

Ah. The question that she had expected to be met with – it had been avoided all evening while they were with Jesper and Wylan, but now it emerged while they were alone. It was a question that she knew the answer for. Whether it was the one he wanted or not, it was the one he would get.

“No. I love being on the sea. I love having a purpose that I can enact so clearly. Everything I told you over dinner was true – it has its challenges, but I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”

Kaz nodded, and she saw pride lock into his eyes.

“You’ve become somewhat of a legend to the sailors who come to Ketterdam now,” he said, a grin building. “Men who arrive shaken by what they saw at a distance – of a pirate queen in blue and gold invading slaver ships and leaving them to die. It has certainly damaged West Stave.”

She touched her earring. “It has?”

“Of course. The bulk of working girls in any of the brothels are stolen, and with so few slaver boats succeeding in bringing any ashore…”

Inej grinned back. Her only hope when she finally decided to leave Ketterdam had been to bring justice to those children like her, but to know that her efforts were ruining trafficking from the ground up… It was almost too much. Her face hurt from smiling, and Kaz turned away from her to look out of the window again.

“How long are you staying here for?” he asked.

Another question. So much easier.

“Two weeks. My crew have been given leave in that time, but I’m hoping that they will all want to sign on for the next stint.”

“And you?”

“I have given myself leave, yes, Kaz,” she chuckled. Kaz huffed self-consciously. “I’ll be around, is what I mean. If you wanted to have tea again some time.”

“Yes.”

Their eyes met, and she was a teenager again. Inej hadn’t thought about Kaz in that way for a long time. Hadn’t allowed herself to. She knew that the moment in which she let the thought of anything tender and vulnerable growing between them take root in her mind again was the moment in which she would have to rethink her answer to that tricky question. But Saints, it had always been hard not to.

“I can tell stories about Captain Ghafa while you’re gone, if you’d like.” Kaz’s smile was sharp. “Make sure that everyone in Ketterdam knows the name and fears it.”

Her heart betrayed her so, so quietly.

“You don’t need to,” she said.

“Why’s that, Inej?”

Three years of never letting herself near him, just in case the possibility of a dual life came back into play. Three years in which she only regretted one thing.

“I’ll be back again before too long.”

#gvbb21 #gvbbminibang21 #grishaverse mini bang #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #kaz x inej #grishaverse #kanej fanfic #kaz brekker #inej ghafa

The Farmhouse - Chapter 1 - Wendellwayne7 - Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo [Archive of Our Own]

Sat, 31 Jul 2021 10:33:01

The Farmhouse

Summary: The Crows are traveling to meet Inej’s parents, but Kaz has something bubbling underneath the surface. He doesn’t think he can be a good father. He doesn’t know if he can play that role. But there is more to it than that. They run into trouble as their wagon breaks down and Kaz must face his demons… accepting he has a family.

#kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #amita suman #freddy carter #jesper fahey #crooked kingdom #wylan van eck #jack van eck #colm fahey #six of crows fanfic

@turtleofdamascus

Sun, 08 May 2022 21:52:35

: 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

: None

“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.

@writer-of-mayhem

Tue, 26 Apr 2022 12:00:36

taste test {kaz brekker x reader}

there are guests today.

little information was given to you, but you don’t mind; you’re not here to entertain anyone. you’re here to do your job and move on. who the king associates with is honestly none of your concern.

you’ll leave the assassins to the royal guards.

you wake on the day to witness the palace in hysterics. chefs bustle around like headless chickens, maids and butlers ironing uniforms that have not had a crinkle in them since the war. the scent of food - a cacophany of it - rises to the surface, making you crinkle your nose at the onslaught of different options. all you want is a slice of toast to prepare you for the day, but the thought of walking into that kitchen has you cuddling up in bed for a few minutes longer.

you’ll have to eat that food pretty soon. just a small bite, just enough to get a taste. a hint.

you close your eyes.

the peace doesn’t last long, because it never does. a knock sounds at your door, startling you from your reverie. you roll over, not even bothering to cover yourself when you call out, “come in!”

a palace guard - rico - peaks his bald head round the door and raises a brow. “still sleeping?”

“clearly not.”

“good. you need to be up and at your post in thirty minutes; we have guests today.”

you pull the quilt over your head. “don’t remind me.” you peak an eye over the top, raising a brow. “who are the guests?”

rico narrows his eyes. “you haven’t been told?”

“well, no. i never really asked.”

“then i’ll leave it as a surprise.” he claps his hands, like you’re some kind of dog. “get ready. i don’t want to come back up here again.”

“then don’t,” you reply, but he’s already disappeared.

you drag yourself from bed to do as he ordered. there’s no point arguing with the palace guards - they seem to think they own the place, even though they live basically under the thumb of every other individual walking the grounds. even you, the lowest of the low, can manipulate them into doing what you want if you just try hard enough. a few sweet words and a confident tone, and they’re like putty in your hands.

but the truth is, you don’t care enough about todays events to put on that confident tone. you pull your clothes on, fiddle with your bow tie, and head downstairs to see what the day has in store for you.

breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

a risky day ahead.

you’re required to be at the kings side long before the guests arrive. you’ve never questioned it. the rules of the palace have never made any sense to you, but you go along with them, because you don’t want to get into any more trouble than you already have. that’s why you find yourself stood by the kings side in silence, hands clasped in front of you, trays of delicious breakfast foods being delivered by hasty, sweaty porters.

the dining room is swathed in beautiful decor. banners hang from the ceiling, red and gold colours matching the grand wallpaper all around. the fancy carpet has been rolled out, tucked beneath the long, mahogany dining table and stretching all the way to the double doors ready to greet the guests.

even the king is dressed well for the occasion, which is another surprise. though the king hardly looks like a peasant, he makes a point to put in as little effort with his appearance as possible, just to show people that he can get anyone to fear him from personality alone. his riches and fancy fabrics have nothing to do with his power.

but today he wears his finest silk coat, the buttons straining against his round stomach. his beard has been freshly trimmed, and you watch his hand rock back and forth amongst the hairs. a few stray ones float from his chin to the table, and you quickly swipe them away. the king doesn’t even notice; he continues staring at the doors, one dark skinned knuckle tight around the arms of his throne-like chair.

finally, after what feels like forever, the double doors up ahead are pushed open. two palace guards dressed in red hold them in place, and a man is ushered in.

a man you recognise immediately.

he’s got a cane now, which is different. there’s those gloves on his hands, the sides of his head still shaved, with that shaggy, dark mess still perched on top, a school boys haircut that looks most out of place on someone with blood on his hands. he’s frowning, because that’s what kaz brekker does - the king shows his power through his booming voice and cruel choices. kaz brekker shows his power through his expressions.

you don’t meet his eyes, though you don’t look away. kaz has his gaze on the king, not even noticing you standing at his side, and for that you are thankful; you don’t think you want to look into those blue eyes again. you promised yourself you wouldn’t, not before the nightmares disappear.

the king slowly stands. he rubs his beard one final time for good measure before saying, “you’re late, kaz.”

“call me mr brekker,” kaz replies, before gesturing to an empty seat at the end of the table - the seat farthest from the king. “shall we sit?”

you swallow; you’re familiar with this attitude from him, but you’ve been in the kings presence too long now to pretend kaz isn’t on thin ice.

the king, however, is clearly in a docile mood, as he nods and sits down. the food in the centre of the table goes unnoticed for a while as the two stare at each other, waiting for the other to crack and begin the conversation. you fiddle with your fingers, uncertain whether kaz has seen you, whether he recognises you, whether he’s just keeping a straight face because he’s kaz, and he’s a professional.

finally, the king clicks his fingers at you. “stack my plate. you know the drill.”

you burst into action, bustling round the table, scooping up different assortments of breakfast foods you know the king enjoys; he’s got his bacon, and his eggs, and the bread, pancakes on the side. you slather beans along the rim of his plate and place a single hash brown in the residue, just as he likes it.

and then you sit down, and pick apart the entire thing.

you can feel kaz’s eyes burning into you as you work, but you pay him no attention. you have to focus, because this is kind of a life or death situation. you sniff the food first, though this very rarely shows you anything you might need to worry about. it’s too fresh, still warm in your fingers when you lift it to your nose. you can smell only the warmth of it all, but you take the precaution anyway, just to show the king you know what you’re doing.

and then you nibble the edges, heart thumping with nerves rather than poison entering your body. that’s what you’re looking for - poison, an assassination attempt. even in his own palace, the king is paranoid. his own staff have turned against him before. you’re not entirely surprised.

you chew, swallow, pause, repeat.

“all clear.”

you hand the plate back, tuck your hands in your lap and look down at the table at kaz. he’s staring at you, an eyebrow raised, and you understand immediately that he recognises you, probably knew you worked here before he even entered the premise.

was he here foryou?

you banish the thought and look away. you wait until the king has started digging in before excusing yourself and exiting, your job for the morning complete. at lunch, you will have to repeat the process, and again at dinner, but until then, you have the morning to yourself.

you walk through the gardens, because fresh air is all you need right now. your heart is hammering, and you curse yourself for it - kaz brekker has not been in your life for months. he shouldn’t have a grip on you. he shouldn’t even know you are here, and yet he does, because of course he does. kaz doesn’t step foot anywhere until he knows the ins-and-outs of the entire place. he keeps his ducks all in a neat row, and you were a fool to believe you had escaped it.

it’s not like kaz is a bad man. he’s evil, certainly, with horrible actions under his belt, but you can understand his reasoning. he kills a man, and maybe that’s an overexaggeration, but the man was also seconds away from traumatising a poor woman walking home from work. kaz takes a life, saving the day in the process. it’s how he works, how he’s alwaysworked for as long as you’ve known him.

and you’ve known him for a while.

you haven’t been by his side in months, but someone like kaz brekker is someone you never forget. once you know kaz, you never stopknowing him, which is a curse more than anything else. oh, how you wish you could wipe the slate clean, pretend you never got involved with him and his gang in the first place. but that was your decision - your stupid, careless decision - and you need to face the consequences.

having him here, at your place of work, was a consequence.

you sit down by the stream just outside the palace grounds. a duckling struts past, paying you no attention whatsoever. a stray lilipad floats gently through the water, spurred on by the tiny breeze ketterdam has for you today.

you like to come here sometimes, just to clear your head a little bit. nobody else bothers with the nice scenery and the nature; they think it’s a waste of time. if it wasn’t for the gardener, this place would be a wasteland, left to shrivel and disappear into shadow. you’re thankful it’s been kept pleasant, though - it’s a good place for someone who wants to have no thoughts for a little while.

you lean down and run your fingertips along the water. it’s cold, and a weed gets tangled between your fingers. you lift it from the water with a wince, flicking your wrist to get it off-

a cane clamps down on your fingers, shoving your hand into the grass.

you inhale sharply, straightening up but not turning around.

“so easy to startle,” kaz hums. “you’re losing your touch, y/n.”

you twist your hand and catch the bottom of his cane, using it to pull yourself to your feet. kaz doesn’t stumble, but you never expected him to; kaz doesn’t stumble.he’s much too stubborn for that.

you whirl around, and there he is, that frown on his face, his head tilted like he’s analysing you even before you’ve said two words. a heat festers in your belly. you don’t know if you want to hug him or slam your fist into his nose.

“so this is where you ended up, is it?” he glances at the grand gardens, the glistening lake, the ducklings swimming past. “you’ve surprised me, i gotta say. i never thought you’d be into such grandeur.”

you fold your arms over your chest, cheeks heating up. you will admit, the palace is certainly not the place you thought to find yourself, either; after living in the barrel your entire life, you had grown used to dirt stained clothes, weeks without washing, hunger pains. this was different. this was a different type of hell, a hell in fancy clothes.

“cat got your tongue?” kaz continues, swinging that stupid cane back and forth. “shame. i think we have a lot to talk about.”

“why are you here?”

“ah, asking the right questions now!”

“just tell me, kaz. tell me, and then we can go our separate ways - just like you wanted.”

his expression falters for a moment, so quick that it’s clear he doesn’t want you noticing the power you still have over him, even just a little.

“fine,” he says. “let’s walk.”

you do just that, hands tucked into pockets, head tilted down. it’s easier to talk to him when you’re not subject to his facial expressions, too - handling both of them is too much.

“you want to know why i’m here,” he begins. “i’m here looking for you.”

your stomach drops, even though that was kind of what you were expecting.

he pauses, giving you a chance to fill in the silence with your own thoughts, but you don’t even look up.

he barrels on. “we had a tip-off from someone that you were working here now. no one else believed it, but me? i know you a little better than them. i was surprised, but i could picture it. you’ve always been irrational when you’re desperate.”

you wince. “you don’t know me at all, kaz.”

he smiled at the sky in response, like you had walked into his trap.

“i hope you didn’t come here thinking you can coax me back to the barrel,” you continue. “that’s not going to happen.”

his jaw clenches, head still tilted towards the sun. his skin is a little darker now, a little more tan. he’s probably been out and about, you think, causing havok in the sunshine, ruining people’s holidays because he can.

“i thought you would say that,” he says. “so i’m bringing the problem to you.”

you nearly stumble. “what?” freezing in the middle of the path, you grab his arm and whirl him around, forcing him to look at you. “what have you done, kaz? what problem?”

“she asked for you.”

“kaz-”

“inej is sick.”

your breath falters. those words, so simple, yet so … unexpected.inej ghafa - the wraith, your best friend, the girl designed to be indestructible. that’s why kaz picked her. that’s why she worked alongside you. that’s what made you the best damn crew in ketterdam.

“sick.”

kaz nods, shrugging his arm from your grip. “sick. ill. not well. poorly. whatever you want to call it. she’s not doing good, and the only person she’s asking for is you.”

“so where is she?” you whirl around. “is she here?”

“not walking alongside us, no.”

you scowl. “i mean at the palace, kaz. is she at the palace?”

“she will be.” kaz pulls a golden watch from his pocket. “in about three hours. that should give your employer plenty of time to set my room up and make some space in the hospital wing, don’t you think?”

you close your eyes, trying desperately to steady the thumping of your heart. he could be lying, and you know that, but what if he isn’t? what is inej really is on her death bed, and you never even got to say goodbye?

the thought terrifies you to the point your hands begin to tremble. when you open your eyes, kaz is staring at them, and you’re almost certain there is something close to pity sparking there.

you quickly snap your arms behind your back and nod. “fine. okay. i’ll see her. but once i’ve done what i can, you leave. both of you.”

kaz studies your face. the fire in your stomach burns even brighter, forcing you to look away and keep walking.

kaz follows, all soft footsteps. “i’m not here to bring up the past, y/n. i hope you know that.”

“you can understand why i find that hard to believe.”

“well, yes. but i’m serious. what we had, it means nothing now. you’re a different person, and so am i. we can let it go.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, trying to pretend those words are exactly what you wanted to hear. but a knot twists in your heart, almost to the point of pain.

you take a deep breath and glance at him over your shoulder. he’s only a few steps behind, but his presence is so large, so therethat you nearly trip.

and then you say, “we never had anything, kaz. remember that.”

—-

it’s like you’re trying to hurt each other.

that’s how it’s always been between you and kaz, but at one point, it felt natural. it was a bit of fun. a few snide remarks here and there, followed by kaz confessing he thinks your eyes are a very pretty colour. a bit of sparring, followed by you telling kaz he’s the most important person in your life.

this time, however, the mere sight of him is a torment, one you don’t find fun in the slightest.

the king tasks you with leading kaz through the palace. this was a job you fully expected to be given, but it doesn’t make it any easier. kaz stops to examine every little thing, tracing his fingers along artefacts you would be murdered for touching.

you swat his hand away when he reaches for a bust of the kings father. “stop it. if you knock that over, he’ll have you hanged.”

kaz raises a brow before touching a gloved fingertip to the stone. you groan and march off, trying to ignore the butterflies at the sound of his soft, hidden chuckle echoing behind you.

you show him his room, a beautifully decorated space much grander than any room the king has ever given you. kaz whistles when he walks in, looking at the wine bucket on his chest of drawers, and the freshly made bed with the thick linens, and a view to die for.

“spoiled,” he says.

you roll your eyes. “i’ll leave you to get comfortable.”

“or.” he whirls, catching your arm. his fingers slot in the crook of your elbow, the leather of his gloves sparking unwanted familiarity within you. “you can stay, and we can talk some more.”

“i have things to do, kaz.” you rip your arm from his grip. “the king will be having lunch soon, and i need to be there.”

kaz scoffs, slowly sliding the knot out of his tie and slipping it from beneath his collar, like undressing in front of you is no big deal. “so you can do what? potentially die? you know, y/n, i once thought you were a tough son of a bitch, but the longer i’m here, the more i’m realising just how weak you are.”

ouch.

“we’ve all got to make a living somehow,” you reply. “you murder people, i keep the king safe.”

“the same king you wanted to assassinate a few months ago?” he tilts his head, pursing his lips. “what a drastic change of heart.”

“go to hell, kaz.”

he raises a hand. “wait for me outside; i’ll come to lunch with you and your king.”

you pause. “has he invited you?”

“i don’t need an invite.”

“you’re not permitted to be there-”

“i’ll be there.” he starts unbuttoning his shirt. “i want to watch you in action. you’ve always been very good in action.” he smirks, and you know he’s just teasing you, trying to get a reaction. your cheeks heat up, but you quickly turn on your heel and scurry out before he can notice.

you don’t wait on him outside. instead, you hurry to the dining hall, where the king is already seated. he looks up when you enter, fingers already tangled in his beard. his wife sits beside him, grand and tall and everything a queen should be. she scowls when you enter, but you ignore her, immediately taking your seat by the king and fanning a napkin over your lap.

“sorry,” you say. “kaz brekker kept me.”

“it’s mr brekker,” the queen snaps. “have some respect for our guests.”

“y/n can call me kaz.”

you close your eyes, listening to the thumpof his feet and cane against the carpet.

“y/n can call me kaz,” he repeats, lowering himself in the chair at the head of the table. “mr brekker is a little too formal for them.”

“mr brekker,” the queen exclaims, fanning her reddening face. “i wasn’t aware you would be joining us for lunch!”

you nearly roll your eyes at her flustered state - okay, so kaz is attractive. he’s also half her age.

kaz leans back in his seat, tapping his fingertips together. “oh, no, i’m not eating. i’m just here to observe.” at the confused silence, he shrugs. “i have nothing better to do, and i’ve always been fascinated with the hobbies y/n takes on. such a talented soul they are.”

you’ve never heard kaz speak so formal before, and you have half a mind to laugh. instead, you glance over to see his own lips trembling in his attempts to keep a straight face - he finds this just as amusing as you do. messing with the royals, it’s all a game to him. they are the fools.

“do you two know each other?” the king asks, handing you his stacked plate.

“no,” you snap. kaz grins behind his glove, staring at you over his fingers as you hasten to add, “no, we don’t. i just met him today.”

the king nods slowly, not quite sure whether to believe you or not. you don’t give him a chance to doubt any further before picking up your knife and fork and cutting a small chunk from a slice of tofu. you go through the usual routine with everything on his plate, but all the while, kaz stares. you feel his eyes like a fire sinking into the side of your face, putting you off from paying proper attention. you pop the cut-off’s in your mouth and chew, turning to meet his gaze, as if making eye contact with him is some kind of power move. however, he actually looks a bit… worried? concerned? you’ve never seen that expression on his face before, and it makes your stomach flip as you swallow the food.

you give a final nod, handing the plate back to the king. you repeat the process with the queen before standing, straightening your trousers and excusing yourself.

kaz’s chair screeches as he stands.

“mr brekker, would you not care for some lunch?” the queen asks.

“no.” he turns and follows you out the dining room, catching your arm when you try and run. “what the hell?”

you spin, snatching your arm away. “can you stop grabbing me?”

“what happens if their food actually has been poisoned?”

“then i get poisoned.”

he raises a brow, skin paling. “and do they have someone on hand for if that happens?”

“on hand to do what?”

“don’t play stupid, y/n. on hand to save your fucking life.”

you scowl; it’s been a long time since you’ve heard kaz curse, and it shames you to feel the same thrill run over you.

“i get sent to the infirmary,” you reply. “but it’s never happened before.”

“never happened-” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “thisis the kind of life you want to live? you left the barrel for this?”

“no life is as bad as the barrel.”

kaz’s lips tighten, eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment before he opens them again and says, “you left the place where people loved you, cared about you, and you came here. to this shit hole. you’re risking your life for them,and you have the nerve to tell me this life isn’t as bad as the barrel?”

even to you it sounds ridiculous, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“the barrel wasn’t a life,” you say. “the barrel was a beginning for me, but i’ve moved on.”

“you don’t move on from that.”

“maybe not mentally, but i can damn well get away physically.” you lean in, lowering your voice. “i just wish you’d let me.”

his eyes scan your face, drawing attention to just how close you are to him. his breath fans your cheeks. you can make out every line on his lips, every crease in his face. you could lean forward if you wanted to, close that distance.

you step back, once again straightening your trousers. “tell me when inej arrives and i’ll come meet her in the infirmary.”

kaz doesn’t say anything. he watches you leave, and part of you - a retched, traitorous part - is disappointed he doesn’t follow.

—-

inej really is sick.

“so it’s true,” you say, sauntering into the infirmary. “the wraith has been beaten.”

you’re trying to jest, but there’s little humour to be felt when she looks like that. her dark skin is pale and sickly, warm drops of sweat clinging to her forehead and rolling down her neck. she’s dressed in only a thin night gown, revealing collar bones and stretched skin where her muscles once were.

she looks up, bloodshot eyes meeting your own, and even in sickness, she manages a smile when she sees you. that’s enough to have you breaking. you rush to her bedside and bundle her in your arms, nearly sobbing with relief at the feel of her pressed against you, her hands in your hair, her mouth inches from your ear.

she whispers, “it’s you.”

you pull away, nodding. “yes. it’s me.”

“what are you doing here?”

you pull a chair over and sit down. “that’s not important.”

“yes, it is.”

“i’ll explain later.” you lean forward, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. “you talk first; what’s going on?”

inej coughs into her elbow; something rattles in your throat, and you try desperately to hide your wince. “i just got sick. i fell in the brig a few days ago, and i don’t think the water was very healthy.”

“of course it wasn’t,” you grumble. “it’s the barrel, you stupid girl. what did you expect?”

“i cleaned myself pretty well afterwards,” she defends.

“clearly not well enough.” you place a hand to her cheek. “has anyone come to see you?”

“some man in a coat,” she replies, nuzzling down in the pillows. “he checked my temperature and my blood pressure and all that stuff. said he’d be back soon.”

“and he didn’t seem … concerned?”

inej shrugs. “i didn’t look him in the eye. men like him don’t sit right with me, y/n. i let him do his job, but i’m not looking at him. i’m not giving him ideas.”

you nod. there is a silence, but those are okay between you and inej.

finally, you reach over and take her hand. her palms are clammy, cold, but her grip is strong.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there to help you.”

her head snaps around, eyes widening. “y/n-”

“i know you always say you understand why i left, but it’s just… i don’t know. i feel guilty about it. i feel selfishsometimes, and you’ve had to travel all the way here whilst you’re in this state all because i wasn’t there to-”

“has kaz been making you feel guilty?”

your mouth snaps closed. “i don’t… i don’t think so?”

inej sighs, head dropping back into the pillows. “don’t listen to him. i understand why you left; i always have. kaz just… i don’t think he ever got over it when you disappeared. it was like a part of him went with you.” she shrugs. “a part of him didgo - you.”

silence again, because you have no idea how to respond to that. kaz was hurt when you left, and you know that, but he’s kaz. he’s tough. he’s been through everything a person should never have to go through. the thought of his final straw being you is almost laughable to think about.

“he loved you,” inej continues, even though you don’t want her to. “he really, really loved you.”

“past tense,” you whisper. “not any more.”

inej smiles sadly, and that’s all you need to see to understand you’re right - he’s moved on. he’s here with you now, but that means nothing in the grand scheme of things. he’s here on business. he doesn’t care about you, and he said it himself - whatever the two of you had is gone, non-existent. you thought you had come to terms with that, but seeing the confirmation on inej’s face makes you feel suddenly exhausted.

“well this isn’t about kaz and i,” you say, pulling your shoulders back. “come on. tell me what’s been going on since i left.”

—

you’re trying to sleep when you hear the bang.

tryingbeing the key word. always. every night, you put your best efforts into drifting to sleep, but it never seems to work how you want it to. you toss and turn for hours on end, drifting in and out of your associative state, but not really falling asleep. time just passes, and then it’s day time, and you’re working again.

tonight is no different.

the bang is loud, just next door to your room. your ears immediately prick - the palace guards aren’t moving towards it. you’re already awake, so you may as well see to it yourself.

you swing your legs out of bed, grab your dressing gown and walk into the hallway. glancing back and forth, you see nothing out of the ordinary.

the bang sounds again.

you narrow your eyes, walking further down the hallway. turning a corner, the bang sounds one final time before a pair of shoes flies at the wall and crashes to the floor in a heap.

you rush forward, eyes wide. “what the-”

kaz spins, another pair of expensive shoes already in his hand. “oh. did i wake you?”

dazed, you snatch the shoes into your possession and toss them to the floor. “what the fuck are you doing, kaz? people are trying to sleep!”

“i was also trying to sleep,” kaz replies. “i am one of those people, so why are you yelling at me?”

you rub your eyes in frustration - sometimes talking to him is like pulling teeth.

“oh, come on,” kaz says. “i was just doing a bit of late night cleaning. this room is a fucking shit hole.”

you raise a brow, sighing. “what are you on about? this room was pristine when you came.”

“yeah, well, i thought so too. and then i found this.” he motions for you to enter the room, and though you know it’s a bad idea, you do so. he hooks his foot around something beneath his bed, and pulls out a box overflowing with expensive shoes.

you narrow your eyes. “what’s the problem?”

“rich men shoes,” he says, like that explains everything. after knowing kaz as deeply as you do, it kind of does make sense.

you sigh again, kicking the box back beneath the bed. “go to sleep, kaz.”

“i can’t.”

“try.”

“you know i can’t.”

you pause, overcome with a sudden chill. you wrap the dressing gown tighter around your body, trying to refrain from looking at him - he’s still dressed in the fancy clothes he wore this morning, but the top button is pulled loose, and his hair is a mess. his eyes droop a little, evidence that he really wants to sleep, but genuinely just can’t.

and you know why.

“i’m not asking you to stay with me,” he continues, grabbing a pair of socks from the floor. “i’m just saying - you have no right telling me to sleep when you know what it’s like.”

“are they bad again?”

kaz purses his lips. “they’ve been bad for a while.”

a while. that’s how he always phrases it. when he says it’s been a while, he means it’s been a while since you left the crows, left him.

you swallow, looking to the ceiling like the intricate design will give you clarity. “i can get you tea or something. a fresh blanket. whiskey.”

“trying to get me drunk?”

“kaz, i’m serious.” you meet his eyes. “you look terrible.”

he laughs, a sly sound that reeks more of danger than amusement. “thank you.”

“let me get you something.” you turn, but he catches your elbow. you glance back just as he drops his hand like your flesh has burned him, an uncharacteristic redness adorning his cheeks.

“didn’t mean to touch you,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “but i’m serious; i don’t need anything. it’s useless anyway.”

everything is useless. every remedy he’s ever been given has never worked. the only remedy for insomnia that has worked for kaz brekker is you.

but you can’t do that to him. you can’t do that to yourself.

“okay,” you mumble. “just… stop making so much noise, alright?”

“did i really wake you?”

“i couldn’t sleep either.”

you stare at each other. it’s like you’re waiting for the other to break. you hate that you kind of want him to break.

his adams apple bobs. “make yourself some tea, then. i’ll be a bit quieter.”

you nod. “thanks.”

“how’s inej, by the way? did you see her?”

“i did. she seems… okay.” you shrug. “the doctors are going to do everything they can to help her get back to normal. then you can go back to the barrel.”

kaz nods, though his movements are slower this time around, shoulders a little more slumped. neither of you say anything else as you walk out, tugging your dressing gown a little tighter around your body.

you don’t take his advice. you don’t need tea, or whiskey, or a fresh blanket; with kaz’s words and his expressions and him,you know there is no way you’re getting to sleep any time soon, no matter what remedy you use.

—-

“good morning, royalty.”

the king looks up from his breakfast, the very breakfast you have just tested for poison. it sits weirdly in your stomach this morning; after a sleepless night, your appetite has deserted you, but you have no choice besides eating.

kaz strolls into the room, dressed in a suit. his white shirt sits against his chest, and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal the crow tattoo on his arm. you awkwardly rub your own crow tattoo, suddenly very aware of how permanent it is.

“good morning, mr brekker,” the king says. “again, you surprise me with your presence. we weren’t expecting you for breakfast.”

“i am just full of surprises.” he sits down in his usual seat and meets your eyes. “how are you this morning, y/n?”

“y/n was just about to leave,” the king replies, as you knew he would; he likes hearing your voice as little as possible.

kaz, however, keeps his eyes on you. “i asked y/n. not you.”

you stare straight at him, a silent warning. “i’m good, mr brekker. well-rested.”

“you can call me kaz.” he leans back, grinning. “i’m glad to hear it. maybe you and i can take a walk amongst the duck pond again later on.”

there he goes, putting on that god awful formal accent that he thinks is so funny.

you scowl. “i’m a bit busy today, mr brekker.”

“kaz.”

“he asked you to call him kaz, y/n,” the king snaps.

kaz nods. “i asked you to call me kaz, y/n.”

you bite your lip, pushing back the retort that so desperately wants to rise. he’s just sat there, grinning with no shame. the king is looking straight at him, and he doesn’t even care.

“any duties you’ve been given today can be postponed until later,” the king says. “mr brekker is our guest, and if he wants your company, your company he shall receive.”

kaz’s grin gets wider, and oh,you want so desperately to punch him square in the face. instead, you force a smile, turning to the king to tell him just how honouredyou would be to give kaz brekker your company on this fine morning.

and that’s how you find yourself strolling through the gardens with kaz, yet again.

“you’re unbelieable,” you mumble, arms folded over your chest like a school kid having a tantrum.

“i’m good,” he replies. “you know i’m good, y/n. i don’t know why you act surprised.”

“he’s the king,kaz,” you hiss. “can you not tone it down a little?”

“tone what down?”

“the-” you gesture vaguely, though the only word you can conjure is flirting,and there’s no way in hell you’re letting that slip into the conversation. “the shit.tone down the shit!”

“i’m not scared of him. i know you want me to be, but i’m not.”

“oh yes. how could i forget? kaz brekker isn’t scared of anything.”

kaz scoffs. “kaz brekker is scared of plenty of things - men aren’t one of them.”

such a kaz thing to say. the most frustrating bit about it was that he was telling the truth.

“i told inej what your job is here,” he continues after a moment of tense silence.

“oh?”

“she understands. says you’ve always been one to do anything to survive.”

you shrug. she’s right.

“that worries me, you know.”

“nothing worries you, kaz.”

“the thought of you in danger does.”

you shake your head. “don’t start this now. you said it yourself; what we had was nothing.”

“why can’t i worry about you without it having to mean something bigger?”

“because everything you say means something bigger.”

kaz falls silent. he knows it’s true, and so do you. kaz has never been able to speak his full extent, always letting people think less of him so he can take them by surprise when the time is right. you have learned first hand how frustrating that can be, but it was also a part of him you grew to love. it was what made him so intelligent, so cunning. it was what made him kaz.

“are you not ever worried you’re going to get unlucky one day?”

you glance over. he keeps his head ducked down, one hand curled around the head of his cane, the other tucked into his pocket. “i know what i signed up for. getting poisoned was kind of part of the risk.”

“since when did you even know how to identify poisons?”

your lips twitch. “jesper taught me.”

kaz rolls his eyes skyward, running a hand through his hair; the sun glows against his tan skin. “of course he did. honestly, the shit you two got up to when i wasn’t around-”

“we had fun,” you say. “we could only do that when you weren’t hovering over our shoulders.”

kaz glares.

you look to the floor, afraid to smile at him, afraid to open this conversation into something even mildly pleasant; if you can get through this entire visit without thinking of kaz fondly, maybe it will make all of it a bit easier. maybe you’ll be able to trick yourself into thinking you’ve moved on, grown stronger since your time in the barrel.

“how is jesper?” you ask, because you suddenly feel like you can’t help it.

kaz shrugs. “how jesper always is.”

“worse?”

“for a while. he didn’t take you leaving very well, but he straightened himself out.” kaz tugs on his lapels. “he always does.”

“yeah. he does.”

you wonder about jesper sometimes. it hurts to know he took your leave badly, though you should have known; jesper has never been one to handle his feelings well. that was your job on his behalf. you would often sit with him at night, just to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. you once handcuffed him to his bed post to stop him heading out into the gambling hall of the hotel you were staying in.

he was the only one you could ever really properly speak to about what was going on between you and kaz. inej understood kaz, but jesper was kaz’s right-hand man. he was the one kaz would go to about things like that.

“does jesper know how to make your brew?”

there is no moment of confusion, like he was expecting the question. “i’m sure he does. i never ask him to make it, though.”

your nostrils flare. “kaz-”

“listen, the nightmares aren’t going to disappear,” he says, raising a silencing hand that you swat away before he can think it works. “i don’t need some special brew helping me sleep.”

“no, you’ll just stay awake until you drop dead.”

kaz grins, sharp as knives. “that’ll be the way to go, won’t it?”

you shove his shoulder, suddenly furious. he looks over, still grinning, because kaz has always found your frustration amusing. he used to say you looked like a chipmunk who just got their nuts stolen.

“for someone so smart,” you hiss, “you’re pretty stupid.”

“because i won’t indulge in your famous sleep remedy?”

“because you’ll let yourself suffer before asking for help.”

his smile fades. “i only ask certain people for help, y/n. it’s not my fault those people keep leaving.”

your heart drops; there he goes again with the impersonal little jabs, knowing he’s cutting you so, so deep. you don’t even humour him with a response, instead quickening your pace until you begin to feel like he isn’t even there.

but that’s impossible, because he’s kaz brekker. he’s yours.even when he truly isn’t there, it’s like he’s walking right beside you, and you’re beginning to get very annoyed by the attachment. it’s not fair on you, and it’s not fair on kaz, but neither of you seem able to help it.

you continue walking until the cold gets a little too much. then you head back to the palace in silence.

—-

final meal of the day. you will make sure it’s not poisoned, and then you will go to bed.

kaz is there, as per usual. the king and queen don’t even act shocked any more, simply welcoming him into the dining hall. oftentimes, he’ll stroll in by your side, his cane clicking against the marble and that smug little smile playing on his face. you always ignore him, even though the king says it’s disrespectful to do so.

tonight, you do just that. you take your seat beside the king, gather up his food and start the process. the beef is smothered in gravy, making the scent test a little difficult, but you give it a go anyway, because it’s protocol by now.

kaz watches from afar, one finger pressed to his lips. he’s lounging back like he’s comfortable, like sitting in a palace is what he does every day. his eyes are narrowed, focused.

you pop the beef into your mouth and chew; nothing.

you move onto the potatoes. nothing.

finally, you dip your fork into the sweetcorn and raise it to your lips.

kaz slaps the fork from your hand. he makes no noise. one minute he is sat at the head of the table, and the next he is by your side, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you from your seat.

the queen shrieks as the fork flies directly at her, sweetcorn and all. a glass of wine tips over when kaz pulls you to your feet, your knee slamming against the underside of the table. palace guards run inside, but none of them know what to do - nobody in the room shouldn’t be there, and so they stand by the door, glancing at each other.

your eyes, however, are trained on kaz.

“what. the. fuck?” you hiss under your breath as the king tends to his startled wife.

kaz meets your eyes dead on. “you really need to get better at your job.” he grabs your arm and starts for the door. the king hollers after him, demanding to know what is going on, but kaz pays him no attention, and you have no idea why you’re not fighting any of this. your heart is hammering in your chest at a million miles per hour, and you have so many questions, but it’s just reflex by now to trust kaz.

he drags you through the halls until reaching his room, where he pushes open the door and leads you inside. it is only then, when it is just the two of you, that you come to your senses, replaying that scene over and over in your head.

you whirl around, yanking your arm from his grip so harshly that you stumble back. “what the hell was that, kaz?”

“how much training did they actually give you before throwing you in to risk your life everyday?”

“why do you care?”

he starts pulling his tie loose, not even looking at you. “just tell me.”

you fold your arms over your chest, trying desperately to keep your attention away from the way his gloved fingers tug and pull at the knot on his tie. “i did a course at the start where i could identify all the different types of poisons.”

he quirks an eyebrow. “that all?”

“it was enough.”

“if it was enough, y/n, you would have noticed the soft spots in the sweetcorn.”

your head snaps up. soft spots?

he hums, despite you saying nothing in response. “wilde yolk makes food go soft in certain places. it also kills people in about ten seconds if consumed in even the tiniest amount.” he looks up, flicking his tie off completely. “did you not learn that in your course?”

you bite your lip and look away. you were so distracted at that dinner table these days, focusing mostly on kaz brekker at the end of the table. you had no idea he was examining your food just as much as you should have been. you had no idea he was keeping an eye out for you.

“so is this experience enough to get you to move back to the barrel?”

your eyes snap up. he’s staring right at you. he doesn’t even look fazed by his question.

and that makes you so, so angry. in seconds, you have gone from grateful to furious; only kaz can elicit that response from you.

you step back, glaring. “so that’s what this is then? you came all the way here to drag me back to the barrel?”

“well, no. i came here to get inej help, but she seems to be healing up pretty well with all the goods your people are giving her.” he shrugs, bottom lip protruding. “so i thought i’d try my hand at this.”

“you are unbelievable.”

kaz raises a brow. “are you getting mad at me?”

“you are unbelievable!”you want to throw something at him. you want to break down and cry. you kind of want to go with him. “it’s like you haven’t listened to a word i’ve said. are you that self-centred, kaz?”

“you know i am.”

you close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. maybe you’re overreacting. maybe you really arebetter off in the barrel, where you were born and raised, where you learned everything you ever knew. but here, with kaz being the one to drag you back - it reminds you so harshly that you’re his.you are his, and that is all anyone will ever see you as, and that thought… you don’t know how to feel about that thought.

“this isn’t the life for you, y/n,” he continues. “you know it isn’t. once the barrel has you, it doesn’t let you go. we’ve all learned that the hard way.”

“is that what you are?” you spit. “the hard way?”

he shrugs. “you should be grateful it’s me and not someone worse.”

“there is no one worse, kaz.”

his lips twitch, the only sign that your words have actually struck a nerve. “you mean that, do you?”

“don’t act like you’re the good guy. you knowyou’re evil. you’re proud of it! that’s why i had to leave. that’s why i’m in here risking my life every single fucking day! i wanted to get away from you!”

and oh, saints, this isn’t going how you wanted it to go. the words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them, mind racing too quick for your mouth to catch up. his face continues falling with every word, but you don’t stop.

“saints, kaz, when are you ever going to grow the fuck up? you walk around pretending you have everything under control, that you own the place, but you’re nothing - nothing- without the rest of us. you would be dead twenty times over if it wasn’t for that little crew of yours, the people you have under your god damn thumb.” you step forward, teeth gritted. “kaz dirtyhands brekker can’t even take his own fucking gloves off.”

“is that what you want?” he steps closer, so close your chests are almost touching. his face is red, a line of sweat glittering upon his upper lip that only ever shows itself when he’s furious, out of his mind with anger. “you want the gloves to come off? fine.”

and then he plucks the gloves from his hands and throws them on the floor.

his hands. the hands you have seen only twice in the years you have known him, the hands that have never touched your bare skin. suddenly they are in full view, free reign to do whatever you want with them, but all you can do is step back, one hand covering your mouth as you try and process what you’ve said, what kaz has done, how the situation could have taken such a harsh, grim turn.

but kaz isn’t finished. kaz is never finished.

“is this what you want, y/n?” he demands. “you need me to bear myself completely for you to believe i’m in love with you? or is this not enough?”

“kaz-”

“what else is it going to take, huh? tell me.”

“kaz, i’m-”

“what about this?”

he’s crazy. he’s crazy, and making mistakes, and you know this because he reaches forward and cups your face in his bare hands, flesh against flesh. shock ricochets through you, eyes widening as kaz lets out an anguished groan, his own eyes slipping closed. you feel his fingers trembling upon your skin.

you wrench away from him, gasping.

he immediately spins around, clutching his hands to his chest. he groans low in his throat, pressing his head against the wall. sweat trickles down the back of his neck, disappearing beneath his collar. you catch a single tear run down his cheek that he can’t wipe away because then his fingers will be touching his skin, and he hatesthat. it kills him. you know it does.

you rush forward, placing a hand safely on his jacket-covered shoulder. his breathing is ragged and shaky.

“kaz,” you pant. “oh god, kaz, i’m so sorry. i’m so, so sorry. why did you do that?” you whirl around frantically. “your gloves. where are your gloves?”

he doesn’t reply. you’re talking to yourself at this point. you spot his gloves on the floor and grab them, immediately handing them back without so much as a brush of your fingertips against his. he’s hurried and distressed when he tugs them back on, clenching his fist over and over again, as if to ensure his hands are safely hidden beneath the leather.

he doesn’t turn around. you stand behind him, one hand pressed to your chest, eyes swimming in tears you didn’t even feel rising to the surface.

“kaz,” you whisper. “i’m… i didn’t mean…”

“you got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he mumbles, straightening up. “i’m not asking you to return to the barrel with me so you can serve me, or whatever you think this is. i’m asking you to return so i can have you there. so we can be together again.” he glances over his shoulder. “as it should be.”

you stare at him, wanting to respond, wanting to tell him to go to hell, but you can’t lie. never before have you been able to look kaz in the eye and lie, and maybe that’s why you say nothing. he’s right in every sense - you and him are meant to be by each other’s side, no matter what. barrel born and raised, nobody understands you quite like he does.

but admitting that, throwing away every barrier you have worked so hard to put up … you can’t do it.

kaz waits a moment longer before laughing half-heartedly, sounding more exhausted than anything else. he lowers his head, black hair falling in his face before he swipes it out of the way, looks at you and says, “get out.”

“kaz-”

“stop saying my name.” he turns, tossing his tie onto the bed. “get. out. inej and i will be gone tomorrow.”

you swallow thickly, pushing away the tears. and then you do as he said, because standing in his presence for much longer is going to send you into a spiral you don’t think you’ll be able to crawl out of again. you’ve been down that road before, and it took everything in you not to be consumed.

—-

“why do you look like you’ve been crying?” inej asks. she’s sat up now, a tray of soup perched on her lap. the colouring has come back to her skin, and she stands up whenever she wants to. whatever the palace medics did for her is working wonders, which you suppose is one thing you should be grateful for.

you lean over and dip a slice of bread in her soup.

“are you checking if it’s been poisoned?” inej jokes, and when you don’t respond, she sighs. “you and kaz have a fight?”

you wince, which is answer enough.

“what about this time?”

“he wants me to go back to the barrel with you.”

inej pauses, eyes still cast to her soup. you look at her, stomach curling in sudden realisation.

“wait,” you say. “did you know that was his plan this entire time?”

“no,” she replies, though she looks sheepish. “i genuinely wassick. kaz just… came along for the ride when he heard you were here.” she looks up and groans. “you can’t act surprised, y/n. what were you expecting? for him to just walk out and leave you here?”

“that would have been the right thing to do, yes.”

“well, you know kaz better than that. use your brain.” she waves a hand in your direction. “pass me another slice of bread and tell me about this argument.”

you don’t want to. all day you have been thinking about the feel of his hands on your face, his flesh against your own, the anguished groan ripped from his throat. he put himself through that to prove - what? that he loves you? that’s what he said, but it was only a few days prior he was claiming what you and him had was nothing. it was forgotten, and you were happy about that for the briefest moment. if kaz moved on, you could too.

but then he took the gloves off, and it was just… messed up again. you were left confused and guilty and pining, and you hated yourself for it. it was as if all that hard work you had put in to forget about kaz had been thrown out the window - trust kaz to come in and ruin everything.

“i can see what you’re thinking, you know,” says inej suddenly.

“can you?”

“take it from me,” she says. “kaz is never going to get over you. he’s never going to let you go. he’s never going to stop trying for you. he’s a stubborn bastard, and a stubborn bastard is even worse when they’re in love - which kaz is. disastrously, madly in love.”

“he said we were nothing.”

“he’s a stubborn andprideful bastard.”

you close your eyes, heart thumping. “i don’t know what to do, inej.”

“well, do you love him back?”

your eyes fly open. “what kind of question is that?”

she shrugs. “an obvious one, but i want to know the answer.”

you know the answer. your brain screams it at you. you have felt the answer in your bones every day since you left the barrel, and yet speaking it aloud feels like a betrayal of yourself from yourself.

so you look away, and as inej always claims, she can see exactly what you’re thinking.

a soft chuckle slips past her lips. “the barrel never leaves a person, y/n. and apparently, neither does kaz brekker.”

“what are you suggesting?”

inej shrugs. “kaz and i are leaving for ketterdam in the morning. there’s definitely room for a third person.”

—-

you don’t sleep that night. neither does kaz.

you can hear him pacing back and forth in his room, no doubt replaying the days events over and over in his mind in the same way you are. his hands against your skin, his eyes piercing your own, those words he spoke that left you tingling all over.

even now, laying in bed, you can’t get over what he said. i love you. that was the jidst of it, and though you had heard that confession from him a few times in the past, it was different this time around. it was kaz trying to prove himself, which he never did before. if someone didn’t take kaz at face value, he wouldn’t bother.

and you have to admit, hearing him say those words was like a shot to the chest. they are the very words that have been on the tip of your tongue for months now, spoken only in dreams when you finally allow yourself to sleep. you can say them to no one else - just kaz. always, always just kaz.

and maybe this realisation is the reason you find yourself getting dressed at six in the morning. maybe this realisation is the reason you pack all your things into the ruck sack you came to the palace with. maybe this realisation is the reason you tip-toe to the courtyard, avoiding the eyes of the staff who all look at you like you’re some kind of prisoner escaping your cell.

it’s still dark. the grass is wet beneath your thin shoes, the jacket you have pulled on doing little to protect you from the icy winds coming from the ocean just feet away from the palace’s front door. hovering on the banks is a boat, a boat you recognise as The Mast, one of the many boats kaz has won from different people around ketterdam.

you nearly cry at the sight of it.

you don’t waste time waiting on kaz and inej - you don’t want to have this discussion with either of them until you’re safely on the water, until you can’t change your mind.

you clamber onto the boat, giving a sheepish smile to the stunned crew member - Daryl, you think he’s called - as he stares at you approaching. he offers you a hand when you finally reach the deck, his eyes never leaving your own.

“morning,” you say. “i’m y/n.”

“i know,” daryl replies, before tipping his hat. “it’s wonderful to have you back on board.”

you smile awkwardly, unsure how to respond; how much do the crew actually know about what happened between you and the crows? how many people bore witness to that god awful aftermath?

you decide not to wait around to hear the answer. instead, you tell daryl you’re going down to the cabins, and he doesn’t argue. you disappear beneath the deck, finding the first room with a bed and immediately claiming it as your own; despite the lack of sleep, you are not tired in the slightest. you can’t get kaz out of your head, how he is going to react when the boat eventually docks and he sees you strolling off of it, greeted by that rancid ketterdam air. back in the barrel.

you lay down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. you will fall asleep eventually. you’ll trick yourself into it.

and then the door opens.

your eyes snap open with it; you must have fallen asleep eventually. groggily, you lift your head and look at the intruder - and your heart immediately falls.

“kaz.”

he looks crazed, hair stuck up, eyes wild. behind him stands inej, grinning from ear to ear, though the minute kaz steps into the room, she disappears into the shadows, leaving you and dirtyhands alone.

his eyes never leave yours as he approaches. he marches to your bedside, grabs your hand and pulls you up.

“kaz-”

he shoves you against the wall, gun pressed to your temple. you inhale sharply, though you can’t claim to be surprised or scared. you stare into his eyes, watching his own trace your features, looking for any sign that you are here in bad company.

“kaz,” you whisper, because it’s always his name that fights past your lips. “it’s me. i’m going home.”

his grip slackens. the gun crashes to the floor, and before you can say anything, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. you are careful to rest your head upon his shoulder, not touching his flesh, but feeling him nonetheless. tears spring to your eyes, dribbling down the bridge of your nose and soaking the shoulder of his fancy suede jacket - one he stole from the kings wardrobe, you notice.

but you don’t pull away, afraid to go without his touch for another second.

“is this what you want?” he asks, voice muffled by your hair. “is this really what you’ve decided?”

“yes.” you pull away, hands sliding down his arms. “you’re right, kaz. the barrel is … it’s a shit hole, but it’s where i belong. it’s all i know. and you and me… we have to do this thing together.”

he narrows his eyes. “what thing?”

“everything.”

the corners of his mouth twitch. you can imagine kissing those lips, drawing him close and embracing in that way lovers often do. however, you’re content, happy even, with the way things are. you hold his gloved hands, and he says he loves you. you confide in him, and he confides in you, and sometimes you fight like children, but in the end, he will have your back no matter what.

“everything,” he repeats. “yeah.” he slips his gloved hands into the sleeve of your jacket, tracing his fingers along your crow tattoo, the one he matched, the one everyone matched when they decided to let the barrel take them over. you shiver, biting your lower lip. “you still have it.”

“i could hardly get rid of it,” you reply. kaz looks up, and you sigh. “i would never get rid of it, kaz. no matter what.”

he nods, rolling your sleeve back down. he pulls it over your wrist, covering your fingers before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the soft, rain soaked fabric.

he looks up at you again. “yes. no matter what.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker fanfic #soc fanfic #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fanfiction #soc fanfiction #soc fic #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows fic

@panda-noosh

Tue, 03 Aug 2021 15:20:35

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Seven (Anatasia)

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

The wind blew the curtains away from the window, which only caused shadows to fall on the woman’s face. She didn’t have the courage to be frightened. She had suspected that she had been followed. There was no real way for Ravka’s Princess Anastasia to escape, even if she wished she could. Her marriage would mean the safety of her country. They would not allow her to get away.

It didn’t matter that those sorts of arrangements had never worked in the past. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to marry.

“Your Highness,” the voice was not one that she expected. She had assumed that one of the Second Army would have been tasked to find her. She had thought they would have sent a Grisha to drag her back to the palace. She wasn’t exactly worth it, but at the same time they couldn’t risk a mortal man failing to deliver her.

The woman stepped out of the shadows. It was the same one that had been seated next to Kaz. Her eyes were kind, despite the obvious threat she possessed. Anastasia had no idea if she could trust her or not. Well, actually, she knew the answer to that. The streets were much like the courts of Ravka. None could be trusted, none could be expected to keep to their deals. She supposed that Kaz had sent the woman to kill her.

“You should return to the palace.” The woman said, her voice as soft as the wind. “Kaz will try to keep his bargain, but surely you realize how dangerous it is to cross the Fold. With or without a skiff.”

“I know,” Anastasia would not be afraid though. If Nikolai had done it, so could she. She would do anything if it meant seeing her brother again. “But I cannot allow my future to happen without my consent. If I stay, I risk never seeing Nikki again. I risk losing the only parts of myself that my family hasn’t destroyed.”

It was dramatic of her, but Nikolai would understand. She hoped he would anyway. There was a very good chance that Nikolai would think she was being a stubborn, selfish idiot who needed to rethink their priorities.

He wouldn’t exactly be wrong.

“Your future is happening, Princess,” the Suli girl stepped out of the shadows then. She was beautiful, like an image of a Saint that Anastasia was supposed to pray to. She wondered how the girl had ended up working with Mr. Brekker, why she was so cautious over this job. Surely, there had been other jobs. Other dangerous positions. “It would be stupid to think you can run from it.”

She clenched her jaw, counting like Vasily had taught her. Her eldest brother may have been useless but he’d always made sure that she and Nikolai knew how to keep up appearances. It was that or be an utter embarrassment to him. Even now, she could not believe that her eldest brother would do anything if it did not benefit him. Maybe it was wrong of her, maybe he felt more for his siblings than he had ever shown. But Anastasia did not believe it for a second.

“I’m not running from anything. We’ll be back before my birthday. You’ll get your payment and all will be well.” Anastasia had never believed that anything bad could truly happen to her. She’d been protected by the Second Army and her brothers her entire life. The dangers of the Fold were not present in her mind. Nor were the dangers of Kerch.

Nikolai would have a heart attack if he ever found out just how reckless his sister had become in his absence.

“You’ve never been told no, have you?” The girl raised her brow, giving Anastasia a look that she thought would kill her if the woman was Grisha. She supposed it was a good thing that she was not.

“No,” she answered truthfully. “Nor do I intend to start. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that I know what I’m doing. As does your Mr. Brekker.”

“Kaz likes impossible jobs. You’ve just managed to give him one."

Before she could open her mouth to make a retort, the girl was gone. She didn’t wonder how it had happened. There was no telling how long the wraith-like woman had been doing this. There was no telling when she would come back either. All she was left with were her thoughts. Thoughts that were going a billion miles an hour, that were certain that she was making a mistake. But one that she could not back away from.

They spent a week waiting for something to happen. For anything to happen. Anastasia had felt as though she were going to go mad from waiting. She had never been forced to wait so long, unless it was word from Nikolai. Then she’d be forced to wait for months on end.

The only time she had seen Kaz Brekker and his friends was during meal times. She never sat with them, figuring they’d spend more than enough time together when the time came. Besides, it wouldn’t have been smart to draw any sort of attention to herself. She had no idea if they would figure out a way to reveal who she was to the entire pub or not, but she hadn’t wanted to risk it. It didn’t matter how far from them she sat, though, she always felt his eyes on her.

It was more than just a bit disarming. His eyes were like sheets of ice. She could feel the cold piercing through her, wrapping her in a vice that refused to let go. She wondered if the others felt the same. If they were each just as worried about what he might do as she was. Of course, she knew that was quite silly. They were clearly just as dangerous as he was. Kaz wouldn’t be the most dangerous person in his little gang. That would have been ill-advised.

Although, Anastasia did not know much about gangs or about whatever it was that the three were. They made sort of a miss-matched family in a way, but she was not yet brave enough to tell any of them that.

Those sorts of thoughts seemed to plague her mind more often than not nowadays.

"The Darkling is coming,” he didn’t make it sound pleasant as he sat down beside her. “Which means we’ve got our skiff.”

“And that he’ll probably recognize me,” she pointed out without looking at him. She didn’t need to see the ice-cold glare or the cheekbones that looked as though they were made of diamond. He was much more beautiful than her husband-to-be, which felt as though it were some sort of cruel and unusual joke. Why should a criminal be so fetching and a prince be … Not.

“It’s either risk this or go back home, Highness,” Kaz’s voice was gravel, his fingers wrapped around a pint as though it had insulted him. She wondered briefly about his rage. What could make a man so angry? So full of fire and brimstone when he could be no more than eighteen?

Anastasia glanced at him then, noting the slight furrow in his brow and the way his jaw twitched slightly. This bothered him more than he let on. She never would have noticed had she not been raised in the courts. Those small ticks had been the only source of amusement in the courts of Ravka. They gave away all the best gossip. As long as one knew how to accurately read them.

“Has something happened?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he gave her that ice-like glare. She hated the way it felt as though he were freezing her from the inside out. Hated how she wanted to tell him to go and fuck himself and a number of other regrettable words. She bit her tongue though. There was no point in angering the man who was taking her back to her brother. She highly doubted there would be another who knew Kerch and knew how to cross the Fold.

“If it puts us in jeopardy, I think it is my concern.” Anastasia had lived her life being glared at and told that something wasn’t her concern. She would not allow this boy to do the same thing. It was bad enough her brothers had done it throughout her life. The only ones who had ever told her no in any capacity, the only ones who’d cared for her.

Kaz stared at her. It would have made a braver person look away. But she was stubborn and had glared down generals who had wished to sacrifice Nikolai. She could stare into a dragon’s eyes if she needed to. What was Kaz Brekker? A crow without wings? Someone who could easily kill her but wouldn’t. Not if he wanted his full payment. Not if he wanted the impossible jobs.

“He’s got another piece of my puzzle,” it was cryptic yet it was all the answer she was going to get from him. She highly doubted he would tell her anything else until he assumed the time was right. It felt quite barbaric.

“And I suppose that means we’ll be risking our lives trying to get your puzzle piece and get to Kerch safely?” Her brow rose slightly, despite the fact that she was less surprised and more excited. What wonderous adventure awaited them? Would it be like the ballets had described? Would she one day hear a symphony composed about their triumphs and failings? She was getting too ahead of herself, she knew that. But adventure was far more exciting than she had ever dreamed it could be.

“Yes, it does."

Anastasia looked at Kaz, their eyes seeming to fight for control. She wasn’t entirely sure what they were fighting about. He knew what he was doing. He would be the most likely option to avoid them getting killed, but Anastasia did not want to give up her newfound freedom so easily. It was go along with his mad plan, which would likely end with the Darkling dragging her all the way back to the palace, or she would have to find some other way to Kerch. It was horrible to think that she would have to choose, horrible to think that there was even a choice.

"Fine. We’ll go with the Darkling. But I pray you have an idea on how to keep us from getting killed.”

At this, Kaz smiled. “Don’t trust your Saints, Highness. Don’t trust anyone.”

The following morning, they were ready. She was petrified. Something was bound to go wrong. She would be sent back to her mother and her father, who would then ship her to Fjerda before she had the chance to run away again. There wasn’t a chance of her ever finding her brother, of becoming someone who had lived her life to the fullest. She would just be a pretty princess trapped within a gilded cage. That was all she was good for.

Anastasia’s wind blew in the hair, blonde locks fluttering everywhere. She nearly looked as though she had been ripped from the pages of a storybook. Even if she did not know this.

Kaz glared at the strands that nearly brushed his face. “Highness,” his gravely voice was almost covered by the sounds of the crowd that had gathered and the wind. “You should hide yourself.”

“Why?” She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes the brightest they’d been in weeks. Her excitement was nearly palpable. “It isn’t like he’s going to see me in this crowd.”

“You stand out,” Jesper pointed out, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger. The smile he gave her would have given her butterflies, had she not seen it on the son’s of lords all her life. “I doubt most people here have Fjerdian coloring.”

She turned pink as she pulled the silk scarf that Nikolai had once given her out of her pocket. She knew that she couldn’t help who her mother was, but she could wish that she had inherited some recessive gene. She thought she would look nice with darker hair. Besides, then she would blend in just a bit easier with her countrymen. Nikolai and Vasily could be the ones who stood out. They were the ones people cared about, after all.

She hid her hair away, feeling less herself than she had just moments ago.

“How exactly are we going to do this?” Anastasia questioned, glancing once at Kaz.

He appeared to be deep in thought. He was staring ahead, almost looking at nothing, but she could almost see the way his mind was working through some problem. Some issue that he had yet to solve.

“Mr. Brekker?” She tried again, wondering if she should shake him like she had to with Nikki and Vasily. Were most men like this? Going too far into their own heads and having to be brought out of it by a gentle touch. She knew that it was fine to do so with her brothers but she worried when it came to Kaz. It wasn’t like she knew him. He might try to stab her the moment she laid a gentle hand on him.

“Let him thing,” Inej’s voice was soft enough, but she could still hear the threat in the words.

Life in a palace had taught her the intricacies of threats and verbal manipulation. She’d been surrounded by people who had believed they knew best her entire life. What were these criminals? Just different versions of the same people she’d grown up with. Maybe she should have been more afraid. Or maybe she should have known that they would underestimate her. Just as everyone did.

Anastasia watched Kaz carefully, watched the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as his eyes traveled back and forth as though they were chasing each thought inside of his head. She didn’t want to admit that he was quite pretty when he was like this. All the hard edges of his face seemed to soften, his fingers tightened on his cane and she wondered briefly why. What ideas were in his head? What adventure was he crafting?

One day, she would daydream about that face. One day, she would think about it as she fell asleep.

Now, however, she just wished he would hurry it up and come up with something. They were quickly running out of time. If they didn’t come up with something fast enough, the skiff would leave without them. Her only chance at finding her brother would be gone. She refused to go to Fjerda without one final goodbye. For she knew the truth. Once her family shipped her off, they would forget her entirely.

The princess stared at the criminal. Her eyes never leaving his as he thought things that no one would ever know. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust his friends or the way he looked at her. As though she didn’t know anything. As though she was nothing more than a silly little girl.

“Quickly,” Kaz broke free from his thoughts, eyes landing on Anastasia. “Inej, get her on the skiff. Jesper, cause a distraction.”

“Don’t think I’ll need to boss,” Jesper stated as he nodded once towards the skiff.

Alina Starkov stood side by side with the Darkling. She had antlers around her neck and appeared to be a dog on a leash. Anastasia’s stomach flipped at the sight. What had General Kirigin done?

“Even better,” Kaz’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Everyone, hurry. Sneak around the back and don’t make a sound.”

The two criminals nodded to their boss. Inej ushered Anastasia away from the crowd, leading her around to the other side of the skiff. There were less people about, everyone having wanted to get a good look at the fools crossing. This side of the skiff mainly held supplies and few guards whose attention was on the sun summoner, not the four people heading towards them.

“Jes,” Inej murmured softly, “can you take care of them?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jesper’s eyes twinkled as he took his pistols from his belt.

Anastasia thought about screaming, about warning the guards that something horrible was going to happen. But she didn’t. She bit her tongue in order to stay silent. Jesper had to do it. He had to shoot them, the sounds of the crowd cheering and the Darkling’s yells covered the noise almost too well. Yet, Anastasia’s ears still rang. How had this happened? How had any of this happened? Was her desire to see Nikolai greater than people’s lives? Was her brother truly worth the price of selling herself to Kerch’s greatest criminals? Or was she just being selfish?

She knew that she was being selfish. She knew that Nikolai would hate her for it and yet - there was nothing she could do to stop it. She needed to see him. Needed to be as free as anyone else.

Jesper led the group onto the skiff, motioning with his hand for them to keep silent. It seemed redundant to her. He had just murdered the guards, had just acted as though his own self-interest were more important. Anastasia would say a prayer for them tonight, she would ask the saints to give them safe passage to the afterlife. She highly doubted she would ever be granted that same kindness. After all, she was unsure if she regretted the fact they were dead. They’d been standing in her way.

“Watch yourself, Highness,” Kaz’s gravel voice spoke in her ear. She felt the press of something hard and metal against her back, nearly knocking her off balance as she climbed over the edge of the skiff. “Wouldn’t want you to fall.”

Something told her that he wouldn’t mind it much at all if she did fall to her demise. But she bit her tongue, not wanting to anger the man who was the key to finding her brother. “I can manage myself just fine, thank you.”

His eyes glinted with something. An emotion that she didn’t know how to accurately describe. It wasn’t humor, not like she had ever known it at least. But nor was it anything that sent warning bells ringing through her. If anything, it sent a delightful chill down her spine. But for now, she would chalk that up to the wind that was blowing. She didn’t want it to be anything else. Anything else would be a distraction that she could not yet afford.

“We’ll see.” Kaz did not look at her as he tossed himself over the edge of the skiff, his bad leg almost going out from under him as he did. He straightened quickly enough, almost as though he didn’t want her to see.

Anastasia wasn’t sure that she cared about a bad leg. It made him seem almost human in a way.

Kaz Brekker couldn’t be human. The way he looked at her often made her think of demons, of monsters from fairytales that Nikolai had read her when she was younger. When he was still home. She was certain that her brother would see this man as a threat, as someone who needed to be as far from Anastasia as possible. But that did not matter now.

“This way,” Kaz hissed over his shoulder, not sparing a glance at the three who stood behind him.

Inej quickly flanked him, with Jesper following after Anastasia. It was almost as though they didn’t quite trust her to remain on the skiff. While she may have been frightened, Anastasia knew that running would just mean giving up any hope of a future.

Her future was what she was chasing. Not her brother. Not the feeling of freedom that she had craved for so long. No, she wanted something more. Something better. Something bright.

Kaz led the trio to a quiet alcove that was just big enough for the four of them to hide unnoticed. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was covered and out of the way. Likely, no one would think to check for them. He squeezed in beside Anastasia. She briefly worried that he would hear her heart rate increase. She assured herself that the only reason she felt anything was because of how tight the actual space was. She’d never been so close to a person in her life. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.

Anastasia felt as though she could not breathe. She felt as though her stomach was going to twist in on itself all while her heart imploded. She closed her eyes tightly, her hands clenched into fists that were hidden by her skirts.

The skiff took off into the darkness of the Fold before Anastasia could gather her courage. She could hear Inej murmuring prayers and the soft click of Jesper’s pistols. Kaz was the only one who was silent. She almost wanted to lean on him because of it. But she didn’t.

For the second that she had made the slightest move to, all hell broke loose.

Tue, 17 May 2022 08:41:28

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Six (Kaz)

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

No one was ever supposed to find him. No one was supposed to be able to talk to him as she had done. But she had. A pretty little princess with a head full of dreams that would never come true. She had no reason to come after him, to follow him as far as she should.

She had more spirit than he had thought. He wasn’t quite sure he liked that. He didn’t know how to handle the unexpected, not when he had plans for everything. When he accounted for everything else, he found it difficult to account for a princess going against her nature.

What was he going to do?

He could accidentally lose her in Kerch, could make damn certain they did not manage to get found and ransom her off for millions of kruge, or he could just kill her. He could even sell her to one of the brothels if he truly wanted to. He was certain they’d pay a high price for the princess of Ravka.

He knew he could not do anything. Not if he wanted to keep his head. Ravka and Fjerda both would not take her sudden disappearance well. Nor could he kill her. He’d have the entire Ravkan army after him for that one. All he could do was agree to her terms and hopefully fuck her over when the time for his payment came. He could take more than her little emerald for making sure she got there and back safely.

He had no idea how he was supposed to get her across the Fold twice. It wasn’t like they had a chance in hell to cross it safely once. The last time he had done so, he had almost gotten himself killed.

“Didn’t think babysitting a princess was within our wheelhouse,” Jesper sighed dramatically as he looked at Kaz. His eyes were bright, ready for adventure.

“It isn’t,” Kaz admitted, not bothering to look at the sharpshooter. “But we don’t have much of a choice. Do we?” She could easily get them all killed if she wanted to. He didn’t think it would be a good risk to take.

“We should send her back to the palace,” Inej interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a steely gaze in her eyes. “We’re already begging for trouble by chasing the Sun Summoner.”

“Think of it this way,” Kaz didn’t want to reassure anyone. He didn’t exactly know if his idea would work or not, which was concerning. Kaz was always ten steps ahead. He didn’t like having people think he didn’t know what he was doing. Although, it did put people more at ease. “If Dressen will pay a million for the Sun Summoner, think of how much one of the princess's brothers would give for her. Think of what Fjerda’s princeling would give for her.”

“You can’t be serious.” Inej looked almost appalled at the idea. Considering how vocal she had been the entire time about not taking the Sun Summoner, he supposed it made sense for her to balk at this.

“Would you rather we killed her?”

“I quite like the idea of killing her brothers and marrying her,” Jesper shrugged his shoulders as a bright grin crossed his features. “I think I’d make an excellent king, don’t you agree?”

Kaz scoffed, his own appalled look crossing his face. “You’d bankrupt her country faster than any skirmish they’ve been in. Stay away from the crown, Jes.”

“So what? We take the girl to Kerch and hold her there? How long do we have her before word slips out? We’ll have to fight day and night to keep her. Can we really take the risk?” At least Inej had some intelligent thoughts. He knew he could not rely on Jesper for anything like that.

Kaz tapped his gloved fingers on the wooden table. He was shocked that they did not come away sticky. The bar was filthy, it reminded him too much of home. “Yes, we can.”

It was almost too easy. The rest of the Barrel would find out about the princess before the first day was over. He knew it would cause complete and utter chaos. Every gang in Ketterdam would be after her. Not to mention the Merchant Council and her brother. There would be hell to pay. But it would be the best way to catch Pekka Rollins off guard. He’d want the princess. He’d think that it was his right to have the princess, that he would be able to do what Kaz couldn’t.

Pekka would assume that he was owed the notoriety, the money, perhaps even her hand in marriage for ‘saving’ her from the Bastard of the Barrel.

Kaz would make damn sure he knew just where he stood. Pekka Rollins would find out just how low he stood.

“Kaz,” Inej started as he stood up. “We can’t do this.”

“We’ll be taking the emerald, Inej,” he stated as he fixed his coat. “That’s the end of the discussion.”

She glared at him, he could feel her eyes burning through him as he left the bar. He knew that she and Jesper would be discussing this and his plans for longer than necessary. They would more than likely tell him their displeasure until the plan actually worked out. They didn’t trust him enough, they didn’t need him to tell them how things would work out and how they just had to believe in him. That was bullshit and they all knew it. He just had to continue proving that he was the only one who knew what was going on at any given time.

He didn’t know how they’d cross the Fold, nor how they would find the Sun Summoner. He didn’t know how he’d keep his bargain with Dressen and his deal with Anastasia. But he’d do it. Kaz Brekker had broken every rule, he’d made the world his own. He would tear it down brick by brick if he needed to. There was nothing that would keep him from doing what needed to be done. He was made of vengeance and spite, he wouldn’t let anything keep him down. Not Pekka Rollins or the King of Ravka.

The only issue he could foresee was Prince Nikolai. Everyone had heard the rumors, everyone knew he was nothing more than a bastard-born son. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worth something. Kaz couldn’t kill two royal children. Not if he wanted to survive long enough to destroy Pekka.

His eyes traveled to the small inn across from the bar. He could see her in one of the windows on the top floor. Her hair dazzled in the light, her smile was almost glowing as she danced to music only she could hear. He worried that he had gotten into something bigger than himself. He had no idea how to deal with a princess. She was used to certain pleasures that she wouldn’t have in Kerch.

He could already hear her complaints.

Kaz knew that he would have to make sure that the Crow Club would be a safe hiding place for her. Although, he was also aware it would be one of the first places someone would look for her. He would have to give up one of his safe houses for her. That or he would have to come up with a new plan entirely.

This was almost too much for him to handle. He had dealt with issues before. With everything going on, he was certain that this would either push him over the edge or he would end up at the top of the Barrel. He knew which one he would prefer, which one he knew would make things better for him and the Crows.

The Crows needed to be on top. They needed to be more than just another bunch of bastards in the Barrel. They needed to prove their worth.

It didn’t matter that they were the best of the best. That his crew was more unique than any other. They were still nothing more than the underdogs of the Barrel. The ones who were lost and still yearning to find a home.

Kaz shook off his thoughts as he turned away from the inn and from the girl. He didn’t need anything from her. Nothing save that emerald. The emerald could buy him the Dime Lions if he wanted. He knew that it would be worth it to ruin everything Pekka had ever wanted. It would be worth it to see his face and feel as though he had finally won.

He would worry about this whole thing later. For now, he still had to figure out how to get them across the Fold without the help of the Conductor. He had to make sure they didn’t end up as Volcra food. He didn’t want to imagine what that would do to the royal family. How could they blame anyone but themselves for that? If their precious daughter became Volcra food, it was her own recklessness that had caused it. Or Jesper had thrown her off whatever they ended up taking.

Kaz nearly smiled to himself. Nearly. He realized that it was going to be a long process, one that included meticulous planning and sheer dumb luck. Maybe, the Darkling would find his Sun Summoner. If he did, they’d have to come here. She’d have to prove her worth.

A plan began to form in the bastard’s mind. If Alina Starkov were to appear, he’d be able to use that to his advantage. Crossing the Fold would be much easier with a woman who could summon the sun. All they’d have to do was play the roles of stowaways. Keeping Anastasia out of sight would be the most difficult part. She’d grown up around the Darkling. Surely he would recognize her. That would be an issue. But with a little grime and something to hide the golden hair of the Lantsovs, they’d be able to get away with it.

One day, he would find himself a tailor. Someone who would be able to disguise whoever they needed. He would not have to rely solely on his own mind and his own trickery. He’d be able to take a breath for once instead of being the only one with any sort of plans. But until that day came, he would think up whatever he could to disguise whoever needed it. Mainly himself and his newest addition.

Anastasia Lantsov would be a welcome change, for the most part. She’d be able to bring something new to the crew for however long she stayed with them. After all, it wasn’t as though he or Jesper were of royal blood. Having someone who knew the way those worlds worked may have been beneficial in the long run. At least, he could hope so.

It was not like the princess would be sticking around. Kaz knew this. He didn’t know why he assumed she’d help him with heists and grand plans. Maybe he had seen something in her. Something that had been part of him for as long as he could remember. Beyond his rage and his vengeance, beyond every broken piece of him that needed to be stitched back together. There had always been a longing.

Freedom.

He and every single crow that stood beside him craved it. They wanted to be more than they were, wanted to prove they were not just the outcasts and the broken members of society. He was more than just a boy with a cane, Inej was more than a girl with a past filled with trauma. Even Jesper was more than his gambling debts. They just had yet to find a way to prove it to the world. Or to themselves.

He had seen it in her eyes the night they had met. When Anastasia had stared a guard in the eye and demanded to know who he was, he had been able to see everything she wished to hide. She wasn’t the pretty princess with pink pointe shoes. She was something more. Something none of them knew what to do with.

He didn’t know if he wanted to discover what it was or not. Perhaps it was better left in the dark. Those shining parts of her that wanted to come out would be ruined soon enough. She would be sent to Fjerda sooner rather than later. Prince Rasmus would destroy every part of her that he could. She would find her ruin in Fjerda, while the rest of her family thought little of her for the rest of their lives. Bringing out those shining parts now seemed to be almost too cruel.

Kaz didn’t know if it was something he could actually do or not.

He knew for certain that he had to stop thinking of the princess. For now, she was a thorn in his side. She was nothing more than a girl who had tracked down a monster. He didn’t wish to know how she’d done it. Nor did he wish to know if she’d be able to do it again.

He didn’t even know if she had been tracking him. Perhaps she had just gotten lucky by finding him. That or there was something else going on. He didn’t understand why the princess would run in the first place. Why would she risk everything in order to wind up in a town that had been sacrificed to the Fold? What was the purpose of any of this?

If there was one thing that he hated, it was not knowing. Kaz thrived on being the most aware person in the room. It was his reason for the wraith, for his silence unless he needed to speak. There was a reason why Dirtyhands was feared. He knew more than anyone realized, he had more tricks up his sleeve than was comfortable. People couldn’t trust him. People didn’t want to trust him. Besides, having trust in the Barrel was the quickest way to get killed.

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Mon, 16 May 2022 19:59:54

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Escaping the palace had been the easy part. Nikolai had shown her all the secret pathways when they were children. They had played games with them. She’d always wanted to be the fairy while he was a pirate or some sort of scoundrel. She had remembered those childhood days fondly throughout her journey to Kribirsk. If she hadn’t, she would have been forced to think about the pain in her feet and the fact that she had been foolish enough to not beg her father’s permission.

At least then she would’ve had a carriage.

Upon reaching the city, she had paid handsomely for fresh clothes and lodging. She had bathed, scrubbing her skin raw, and dressed in a plain sky blue gown. She had attempted to plait her hair by herself, although it appeared messy and uneven. Anastasia had never known just how hopeless she was until she had gone days without a bath or her lady maids.

Nikolai would have been so disappointed in her.

She was fresh-faced when she came into the bar. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes took in every single person in the crowded bar. She had thought enough to keep her traveling cloak. There was no telling what any of the patrons would do if they discovered that the princess of Ravka stood before them.

Years of dancing and lessons in how a princess should behave made her elegant. Even in the dusty, dirty bar, she strode forward as though she was on the dance floor. Each of her movements timed to the waltz of her heartbeat. She knew that her gait alone would be cause for attention. What simple maiden walked as though the ground was a dance floor? What young woman acted as though the world should bow before her?

Anastasia had not been around enough women to know what the answer truly was.

She felt eyes on her the entire time she ordered her drink. Kvas like Nikolai had drank with her before he had gone. She had gagged and refused to ever touch any again. The smell still made her wish to gag, but she had to keep up some appearance. She took the glass from the barkeep, thanking him with a small smile. Anastasia then turned her attention to the rest of the patrons of the bar.

Most of them were her subjects. They looked hardened, as though life had done them no favors. They had lines along their features that she had not seen amongst the nobility. They looked as though dirt had encased them their entire lives. Her heart ached for them. Was there nothing that she could do? She didn’t have the power to change things. That power lived with her brothers. She would never be Ravka’s queen.

Her eyes landed on a small group in the corner of the bar. A boy with dark hair and a wild grin was playing with a revolver, his fingers fiddling on the hammer as though he was waiting for a reason to use it. A girl in deep, navy blue clothes sat beside him. Her features hidden by a hood and her body was nearly as still as the breath that had caught in Anastasia’s throat.

At the head of their table sat the guard from the ball. His eyes scanned the room, landing on her. She wondered how many times those eyes had stopped someone in their place. He seemed sharper than he had that night. The angles of his face were made of glass and were likely to cut her if she touched them. He was far too handsome for his own good.

Without thought of her safety, Anastasia headed over to the three of them. She felt as though she was vibrating, excitement coursing through her veins as she neared the table. The man had lied to her. He had snuck into her home. She would find out why. That would be a good enough reason for the last-ditch effort for freedom.

“Mr. Vanzin,” she lowered her hood as she spoke, keeping her back to the other patrons. “I’ve been looking for you.”

An amused smile graced her features as she looked down at him. He played off the idea of being at ease, his spine straight and his eyes glancing at her as though she were nothing more than a mouse. But his hands told a different story. The black gloves he wore could not hide the way he tensed. His fingers clenched in a fist that she was certain he would not use on her. He wouldn’t dare to create a scene.

“Your Highness,” he sounded bored as he regarded her. Anastasia was uncomfortably reminded of most of the people in the palace. “Had I known you were serious about seeing each other again, I wouldn’t have left so quickly.”

The Zemeni boy offered her a chair beside him. She did not like the grin that stretched across his lips. It was as though he was one of the big cats her nanny had told her about at bedtime. She took the seat nonetheless. This would not be the first time that she had found herself in a den of lions. She dined with monsters each night. She had danced with several the night she had met Mr. Vanzin.

“I’m afraid that I was curious about you, Mr. Vanzin,” she crossed her ankles, every bit the picture of a perfect princess. Rasmus would be getting a beautiful bride. “After all, it’s not every day that one manages to break into the Little Palace. Nor when a guard lies directly to my face.”

“I assure you,” his gaze could have cut through ice, “nothing about that night was personal.”

“How could it be?” Anastasia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. It was like she was verbally sparring with Niki once more. He danced around the questions he didn’t want to answer, made her feel as though she would go mad half the time. “You didn’t even tell me your real name.”

The air surrounding them seemed to grow thick with tension. The girl’s hands had disappeared underneath the table while the boy was rubbing the handles of his revolvers. Anastasia would not allow them to frighten her. She would not be afraid and she would not back down.

“You’re clever, Princess," his tone was filled with venom. "You should be careful. That’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

“Is that a threat, Mr. Vanzin?"

"Only advice,” he told her before he drank the glass of kvas that had been in front of him. His eyes were dark as he stared at her. Heat flooded her cheeks but she did not let it phase her.

Anastasia had been around princes and lordlings her entire life. She had been around beautiful men and around men who had assumed they were beautiful. She had never let them phase her. She would not let this conman get underneath her skin. Even if it did feel as though she were drowning when he looked at her like that.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take it,” she said, praying to the Saints that the dim of the bar was hiding her heated face. “Now, why don’t you tell me who you are?”

“So you can cart us off to a Ravkan prison?” It was a valid thought. Had she been any of the other members of her family, she more than likely would have called for help. But had she been anyone else in her family she wouldn’t have had to run away from her future.

Nikolai got to be the scholar, Vasily the king. All Anastasia was good for was a high bride price and to be her father’s favorite pawn. Her future had never been her own. It never would be.

“I assure you,” she leaned forward, strands of her hair falling into her face. “I would not turn myself in just to give you up.”

For a split second, his left eyebrow rose and an expression of confusion crossed his face. It was gone before Anastasia could blink. He wore his mask well. Almost as well as those in her court. Maybe he was like her. A royal running away from a future that did not exist.

“What do you mean?” The Zemeni boy piped up, his expression more confused than the other two. Although it was more amused than anything. “Turning yourself in just means you’re in as much trouble as we are.”

“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” She glanced at him, an amused smirk playing on her lips. “My family plans to ship me to Fjerda on the eve of my birthday. I’ll be wed to Prince Rasmus the week after,” she knew they didn’t need an explanation. Nor had they asked for one. However, she needed to say something. Needed to tell someone how angry she was about the entire thing.

Nikolai was gone. This band of criminals seemed to be the next best thing.

“You decided to leave your cushy palace and come after me as a result of your impending wedding?” His face remained impassive, something that she could not read. She hated that he wore the mask of a courtier. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or insulted.”

“I hope it’s impressed,” Anastasia kept her eyes on his, not daring to back down from the demon in front of her. “At least enough to allow me to know your name.”

“It’s Kaz,” he did not tell her his surname. She supposed it did not matter in the long run. It wasn’t as though she would be spending long with the man. He would more than likely give her up before she had a chance to find Nikolai. Before she had a chance to see the sea and feel the wind in her hair.

Anastasia wished for freedom. A caged bird sang a lonely song. The song in her heart wanted more than that. It wanted to be among the greats, among the waltzes that she had adored from childhood. She wanted to live her life as she chose. If only so she could spend every second of each day surrounded by the notes, feeling the melodies in her heart and the beats in her heart. It was not a dream that any of Ravka’s nobility would have understood.

None but Nikolai.

“Kaz,” his name felt rough on her tongue. The syllables were brutal and cutting. Just like the man in front of her. “Perhaps we could make a deal.”

“What sort of deal would you offer?” His tone was indifferent but the spark in his eyes told her that he was at least intrigued.

“I want passage. My brother is attending university in Kerch. I wish to see him a final time before I leave. I will keep the guards off of your back,” she said, keeping any passion or hope from her voice. Vasily had once told her that negotiating meant selling your soul. That having too much enthusiasm would give her opponent the upper hand. Maybe he’d had a point.

“We can avoid the guards without you, Princess,” she hated the way he said it. Like it was an insult instead of her honorific.

“I can also offer payment,” she said almost lazily. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her cloak, pulling out a ring that should not have been in her possession.

She tossed it onto the table. The emerald sparkled in the light, the face perfect in every way. The Lantsov Emerald had been the stuff of legend when she was younger. As she had grown up, she had realized that it was nothing more than just a pretty gem. One that her parents prized above all others, but a gem nonetheless.

It was supposed to go to Vasily’s future bride, but Anastasia had found it unfair. She had stolen it from her mother’s chest in the dead of night. Then, she had escaped using those secret passages. She had known the emerald would come in handy. Although she had assumed it would be used to prove she was the Princess of Ravka. Not payment.

Kaz looked at the emerald for a second before he looked back at her. “I’m listening.”

“The Lantsov Emerald has been in my family for generations. It’s Ravka’s greatest treasure. I’m offering it to you for safe passage to and from Kerch. Also, protection while we’re there. I’m willing to add three million kruge for you and your crew upon my safe return.”

She doubted that her parents had that much money. Or that they would be willing to pay that much for their only daughter’s safety. She was ruining their plans. But she didn’t care. They would ship her off without her ever seeing Nikolai again. They would sell her before she had the chance to find herself.

Kaz looked at her, his gaze was unyielding and colder than the ice of Fjerda. She wondered if he had learned to be cold or if it had just come naturally to him. Was he a monster of a man? Or a man who had become a monster? There was a story there. Something that was hiding beyond his eyes, beyond the facade he painted on. The facade that she only hoped was a facade. She didn’t know what she would have done had he admitted to it all being real.

“Do you expect any of this to be easy, Princess?” He questioned, watching her as though she held a dagger in her hand instead of a valuable emerald.

“No, quite the opposite actually.” Anastasia was not an idiot. She knew they would have to cross the Fold, find passage on a ship, and prey to all the Saints that she was not followed by her parent’s guards. She doubted they had even noticed her missing. The Sun Summoner disappeared at the perfect tie. She wouldn’t have been able to slip away without the distraction.

“We’ll have to wait for a skiff,” Kaz sat up straighter, almost as if to intimidate her. She matched his posture, not daring to back down for a single second. “No one knows how long that might take. A ship to Kerch will be another question entirely.”

“I assure you, Kaz,” the name stabbed her throat, “I am prepared to stay as long as necessary. I will not go to Fjerda without seeing my brother.”

“Your brother will not be easy to find. Do you know how many rich sons have been sent to university?”

“Nikolai will be quite easy for me to find.” He didn’t need to know that he would have an angry prince to deal with during all of this. Once Nikolai heard of her disappearance, he would be angry. He would claim she had no idea what she was doing. That she was being reckless and stubborn. That there had been no reason whatsoever for her to leave the safety of the palace. He would have told her that she was stupid for trusting a man who had broken into their home.

She would take every second of his tongue lashing. As long as it kept her from never seeing him again.

“I will have other business in Kerch,” Kaz stated as he watched her. He was looking for any sign of weakness. She knew that he would try to betray her. He would see her as another piece on his chessboard. Just as everyone else had.

She was no longer willing to be a game piece.

“I’m quite aware of that,” there was no reason for her to be the only job he’d take on. Even if she was offering more money than he’d probably ever see in his life. Money she did not know if she had. “Now, do we have a deal?”

He did not offer her his hand, unlike what she had seen other men do with her brothers. She didn’t know if she was supposed to be offended by the slight or not. Surely it had more to do with how he felt about the deal than anything to do with her. That or her nails were in a worse state than she had previously realized.

“The deal is the deal, Princess.” She wondered if she would ever hear anything else come from his lips. Would he call her by her honorific the entire time? Or would he loosen up? She didn’t think it was important enough to complain about it. No matter how grating it was to hear him use it with nothing but venom in his tone.

Anastasia picked the ring up from the table, giving him a kind smile. “You’ll get this once I’ve been returned to Ravka, safe and sound.”

Kaz said nothing, just nodded his head as she stood from the table. At least he knew better than to fight her on when he would get his payment. It was probably for the benefit of her peace of mind. If she trusted him not to slit her throat, then maybe she would be less likely to put up a defense. She didn’t know for sure.

“Enjoy your night,” she told the three, giving them a curtsey. Her skirts flourished around her, almost making her wistful for a night of dancing underneath the stars. “I expect to see you here tomorrow.”

“Of course,” he nodded his head once, looking at his crew instead of her. She wondered if they thought she was all talk. Surely a princess would run from danger instead of towards it. She should have been trapped in her golden cage with her jewels and her grand piano that she was not allowed to touch. They would assure she’d change her mind before entering the Fold.

The look on his face told her everything that she needed to know. He may not have expected her to come after him, but he knew now to expect her to back out. To do anything other than what she had said. Surely he should have realized by now that Anastasia was a woman of her word. She’d found him. She’d stolen the greatest heirloom her family had and run away from home. She had done everything that no one would expect from her.

The same things they would expect from Nikolai.

The thought nearly blinded her as she stepped into the sunlight. Had she begun missing her brother so much that she had decided to act as though she were him? He would have told her that it was a waste of her own potential. He would blame himself for making her a mirror of him. It would be bad enough to have one of them roaming the streets of Ravka. They didn’t need two.

But she knew that she was not like her brother. She didn’t see the world as one big game that she had to win. She just wanted to dance, to feel the music filling her veins and speaking in it’s beautiful secret language to her soul. She knew it was a silly wish, one that she would never truly get to experience. She’d have to marry a man she didn’t love. She would have to dance only when it was appropriate. Anastasia would lock herself up for her country.

She just needed a chance to dance before she did so.

Kerch may have been known for it’s criminal underbelly, but it was the only safe place for her. She would be far from whatever trouble the Sun Summoner was bringing. She would be able to find Nikolai. Anastasia would be able to yell at him for hours at a time for not writing her back as much as he should. She would be free for the first time in her life.

As long as she did not get her throat cut or held for a ransom it should be perfectly safe.

Anastasia headed back to her room. It was not safe to dawdle on street corners. She had no idea if her parents had discovered that she was missing. She had no idea if anyone would be out looking for her. Vasily wouldn’t be. He had too much to do, too much to prepare for. The time for him to take the throne was almost upon them.

He had less time for his little sister than normal. She felt as though Nikolai had abandoned her. Perhaps this unwanted isolation had been the truth behind her desperate need to flee. Perhaps knowing that she was alone, and would be for the rest of her miserable life, had been what drove her to running as far as she could from the walls of her gilded cage.

She slipped up the creaky stairs, using the gentle creaks as though they were a melody. She craved music. Craved hearing the waltzes, the symphonies. She needed it as though it was oxygen. She needed to hear every beat, feel every note. Alas, her life would not go in that direction. She would sooner end up hidden behind blocks of ice than in a symphony hall. Especially after what she had done.

As the princess entered the room she had rented, she did not notice a figure standing silently in the corner.

She took off her cloak, tossing it down on a small chair in the corner of the room. Her back was to the silent woman, never once noticing her as she began to freshen up. The day was still long, the sun having only just hit the middle of the sky. She planned on actually doing something besides make shady deals in the back of a pub.

Anastasia lifted her face, water dripping from her eyelashes. She caught sight of the woman in the mirror, her spine instantly stiffening.

“Your Highness,” her voice was soft as she stepped out from the shadows. “We’ve a lot to discuss.”

Mon, 16 Aug 2021 19:25:08

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

He hated to lose. Hated to be in anyone’s pocket. When a plan failed it made him feel as though he was once more that scared child who had held onto his brother’s hand. He felt weak. Weaker than anyone in the Barrel should feel. If anyone had found out about this detour in his plans, he would have already been marked. Kaz Brekker would have been a name that was not remembered despite the fact that he was quickly becoming the man to look out for.

Needless to say, he was in a foul mood.

His hands were steady as he picked up the drink that had been Jesper’s. He didn’t bother to look at the other man; a boy really; as he drank it. The alcohol burned his throat, he could feel its trail burning all the way to his stomach. He needed that burn. Needed to feel something other than the rage in his heart. He knew that he would never get another chance to break into the Grand Palace and steal the Sun Summoner.

Not that she would even be there.

He had not once thought that the girl would be stupid enough to run. He had never thought she’d leave the safety of the Grand Palace and General Kirigin. Anyone would have known that Fjerda and the Shu would be after her. How she thought she’d be safer on the run was beyond him.

After the showing last night she was in more danger than ever. Kaz knew it would be harder to find her, harder to capture her. There was no telling where she would go or where she would be hiding. Not to mention they’d already ruined the one place they could go and get information. The Little Palace would have been the most opportune place to be for information. All of it would have gone to Kirigin.

They’d blown that cover though. The other guards had caught sight of them, the princess had spoken to him. A stableboy was very aware of Jesper and what he looked like. None of them would be able to go back.

“What’s our plan?” Inej stood at his shoulder, his constant wraith. He wondered briefly what life would be like if she wasn’t at his side. He was certain that most of his plans would have gone up in smoke by that point.

Just like the one they were running from.

“I don’t know,” he said, his jaw clenching as he stared down at the empty glass in his gloved hand. He hated not knowing, hated to be on the outside. He never knew what to say or do. Never knew how to feel about the whole thing. It was like he was a child all over again, trapped with those bodies and staring into his brother’s glazed-over eyes. Just the thought was enough to make him shudder.

He suppressed the shudder. He didn’t need any of the others to know that he was reflecting on things. Didn’t need them knowing that he was afraid for once. Kaz Brekker was a man who was driven by fear. Fear of failure, fear of being unknown, fear of never getting his revenge on Pekka Rollins. Fear and revenge ran deep within him. He had a strong sense of what he needed, what he wanted.

Kaz could care less about the money, about the power. All that mattered was making Pekka Rollins pay. He couldn’t do that when he was failing at jobs hundreds of miles away from the Barrel.

Inej seemed to understand that he was not in the mood to be messed with. She just stared at him. Her eyes were depthless and filled with everything she wanted to say. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t stand to look and see what she thought of him. He knew it would be the same thing he thought of himself. Worthless, pathetic. Couldn’t steal a saint if he tried.

Jesper, on the other hand, chose not to read the warning signs. “We could always stay here,” he sounded almost cheerful at the prospect. “This place is nice. We could start a farm, live a quiet life."

Inej and Kaz both looked at him.

"Or perhaps not,” he gripped the drink the bartender slid over to him as if guarding it against his two companions. “You’ll think of something boss, you always do.” Even in the worst of situations, Jesper was a beacon of light in a cold, dark world. Maybe that was the real reason Kaz kept him around. The man reminded him that things were not always as dire as they seemed. As long as they could breathe, they could stay alive. Kaz could think of a plan even when their backs were against the wall.

His brow furrowed slightly, fingers tapping gently against the glass in his hand. Their backs were against the wall. The would-be-saint had run off. But there had been talk of another running with her. The gossips in the bar had mentioned a tracker. One that Kirigin had been using for a secret mission. That was something they could use.

This tracker had to be someone important to her. It had to be someone that they could use. Someone who could lead them just where they needed to be. But how did one track a tracker? How did they find the two?

The docks. They would be escaping Ravka as soon as they possibly could. All they would have to do was wait at the docks. There would be a way across the Fold, one that the Sun Summoner and her tracker would use. The trio could wait for them there, they could become part of the background. It was what they had done for years in the Barrel.

“Plotting face?” Jesper spoke softly from somewhere above him.

“Plotting face,” Inej agreed. Kaz could almost hear the smile in her voice. She thought too highly of him. She thought that he was kind, that he was better than he was One day he would prove that he was the monster that the Barrel had made him. But until then he would take this kindness and cultivate it.

He needed loyalty in his crew. Loyalty would at least keep them from deserting him in whatever weak moments he may have.

“Shut up,” he hissed at the two as he moved to stand. He gripped the crow’s head of his cane, heading outside with purpose in his stride. Inej and Jesper scrambled to follow after him. He could tell they were amused by his actions. After all, it was not every day that he proved them both right within seconds. Normally, he went out of his way to keep people questioning him. He hated to prove people right or wrong. He lived to be an enigma of sorts. If too many people assumed that they understood him, he would never have any sort of mystery in his name.

Upon his exit from the bar, he noticed something that brought an overwhelming sense of both dread and morbid excitement to him. A carriage sat in front of the bar.

A carriage with General Kirigin’s crest on the side. The sun in eclipse had never been more deadly nor more beautiful to him.

He glanced once at Jesper before looking away again. Jesper seemed to understand. He slid one of the beautiful Zemeni revolvers from its holster before heading to the carriage. Jesper was the one who could go around it without arousing suspicion. The Darkling hadn’t seen him except for the briefest of seconds in the dark of the night.

Inej slipped away from him as well, heading up to the rooftops. The Wraith watched over him as though she were a guardian angel. Kaz Brekker knew that he did not deserve to be guarded by angels or Saints. He deserved demons, monsters. After all, he could rule over them with a smile and a smirk.

While Jesper gathered intel from whoever may have been in the carriage, Kaz slipped away from the scene. Despite his leg, he found that he could travel at a quick pace when the need arose. He wanted to find the General. Wanted to know just what he knew about the whole thing. Even if he knew that could be a death sentence.

Kaz was not afraid of death. He knew that his time would come sooner or later. He just had priorities before the Saints took him from the mortal plane. He needed to dethrone Rollins, needed to be better than every other boss in the Barrel. But most of all, he needed to prove himself to Jordie.

Finding Kirigin did not take long. In fact, it did not take any effort whatsoever. It felt as though he had turned a corner and there he was. Kaz was almost frightened at how quickly he had shown up. Almost, but not quite.

“You,” his voice was a hiss. Kirigin was glaring at him, those eyes deep and dark enough that it reminded Kaz of the Fold. “You slimy little rat. Where is she? What’ve you done with her?” It took him a moment to realize that Kirigin meant Alina Starkov. The would-be-saint.

“She doesn’t like being anyone’s prisoner it would seem,” Kaz stated as he leaned lazily against his cane. While he looked like the picture of contentment, his heart was pounding. He had learned long ago to not allow his anxieties to play on his face. It was easier when he looked as though he could care less about anything that was going on. That and it helped to piss people off. A pissed-off person was more likely to reveal their plans. Pride and anger got more people into trouble than anyone had ever cared to realize.

Kirigin began to walk towards him. Long legs causing long strides. The darkness of his shadows seemed to build around him as though they were living. Kaz wanted to throw up at the sight. “Give her back to me or your friends will meet a very sticky end.”

Kaz’s stare was bored although his palms were sweaty in his gloves. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and run as far as possible from this place. “I don’t have the girl. I don’t have friends. Threaten someone with something to lose next time.” His gravelly voice came out rougher, the telltale sign of his lies. He hated that he still had a tell. He had worked for years to get rid of all of them.

He did have something to lose. All he had built could come crumbling down if he wasn’t careful. He’d already put up the club in order to bring Inej along.

Kirigin snarled at him, a curse rising on his lips. Kaz did not need to be warned twice. He knew danger when he saw it. While most would assume that he did not have a sense of self-preservation, mainly because of how intense most of his plans seemed to be, he had quite an intense one. He would not let anyone kill him. Not anytime soon. Kaz was supposed to be the one who brought destruction to those who were not expecting it. He was not supposed to be the one who managed to get caught in the crossfires.

He flung his arm out, tossing down a flash bomb that his demolition man in Kerch had made him. He only had a few left, only to be used in case of emergency. The Darkling baring down at him? Yes, that counted as an emergency.

Kaz fled the scene as quickly as he could while Kirigin was blinded. He found himself back in the square, Jesper stood grinning far too widely with a book in his hand. Inej looked worse for wear, a haunted look in her eye and anxious energy surrounding her. They had been caught unaware. Kaz could not help but to blame himself for it. He should have expected some sort of attack after last night. After all, they had been seen running from the palace around the time the Sun Summoner had gone missing. They had targets on their backs.

“We need to leave, now,” Inej twirled one of her knives as she spoke. Kaz nodded once before he motioned for the two to follow after him.

“Why not steal a carriage?” Jesper spoke as they ran past stables, his breath coming in soft pants that Kaz found somewhat annoying. The whole question was annoying. The situation itself was enough to darken his normally foul mood.

“It’s what they expect of us after last night,” Kaz stated as they slipped out of the town’s gates. His chest burned, his leg ached, but none of it would make him slow. Not until they got somewhere they could hide long enough to figure out just what to do.

The three rushed into the forest, taking a moment to catch their breath once they were deep within the confines of the forest. Kaz knew that this was a stupid plan. He knew that they needed to be careful. With the Darkling at their back, they were in more trouble than he had originally believed. Yet, there was nothing they could do but try to find Alina. They had to figure out how to get her back and return to Kerch. They had to figure out if they even wanted to.

Inej was beginning to break. He could tell by the look in her eye and the set of her square jaw. He wondered why she still believed in her Saints. They had clearly forsaken her. So why did she find it within herself to be so pious? Why did she want anything to do with them? With any of it?

Questions he would never ask seemed to crowd his mind. He had trouble with that. He thought too much about too many things. It was normally a useful tool. He was able to see past things that most people didn’t. He was able to find the smallest details and then exploit them. It had helped when he was rising in rank. It had helped him to capture the Barrel.

“Where do we go now?” Jesper questioned, his chest heaving as he panted. His eyes were wild, glancing at everything at once and seeing nothing. Kaz knew that Jesper often had trouble sitting still. He knew the sharpshooter needed to feel something moving at all times, whatever it was matching the beat of his heart.

“We continue to the docks. But we do so silently. We’ll board whatever we can find to get us across the Fold. The Saint and her Tracker should make an appearance at some point,” Kaz brushed the head of his cane off. Dust from his flash bomb still coated the surface. “We stick to the plan. We can outrun Kirigin and his Grisha as long as we keep our heads and avoid detection.”

He stared at the sharpshooter as he spoke. Out of the three of them, Jesper was the most likely to be caught. He had a way of drawing attention to himself. That was the one thing they did not need. Having all of Ravka’s Second Army coming after them would only lead to losing the club. And possibly their lives. That strangely did not affect Kaz as much as it should have. He was at risk of losing his life every day he stayed at the top of the Dregs.

“Okay,” Inej breathed out through her nose, a sure sign that she wasn’t happy. “So our entire plan is to wait it out?"

"Sometimes inaction can be the greatest action,” Kaz stated as he began to walk away. They had to get moving before the sun went down. He didn’t fancy being caught outdoors during winter in Ravka. Kerch got cold enough. Ravka, on the other hand, had nights that were below freezing in the depths of winter. Being turned into a frozen crow did not sound appealing to him.

“I don’t think now is one of those times,” Jesper spoke as he and Inej followed after Kaz. “We’ll freeze our assess off before we get there.”

“That would keep you from talking at least,” Kaz grumbled as they trekked through the forest. He could feel Jesper’s glare. Normally, he would have intimidated him or done something cruel in response. He did not have the energy. If his sharpshooter wanted to waste energy hating him, so be it. They would get out of this alive. They would keep the Crow Club. He wouldn’t let them fail. Even if it meant alienating the only friends he’d ever had.

Kaz didn’t believe in friendship. It was a waste of time. He had people who were loyal to him. People he could hold at arm’s length. They could betray him but they could never tell anyone his secrets. They’d only ever be able to reveal an idea of who Dirtyhands was. No one would ever know the truth behind the Bastard of the Barrel. It was safer that way. Lonely, but safer. Jordie should’ve been the same way. Maybe then Kaz wouldn’t be so alone in this damned world.

Thoughts of Jordie plagued him as they journeyed for three days.

It was three days of hell. Of breaking into random barns and sleeping on floors that smelled of shit and hay. It had been trekking through mud and snow, being near blinded by a blizzard, and foraging for food when they couldn’t risk showing their faces in a town. Kaz had counted down the days till they had reached civilization. He had not been made for foraging and hiding in the dirt. The farm had never been what he had wanted. It never would be.

Inej was the one who got them lodging. A vacant house nearer to the Fold than anywhere else. Its occupants had been devoured by the Volcra. Kaz didn’t care about the ghosts. The house didn’t smell of hay or animal excrement. It would do.

There had been no talk of the Saint coming to town. No one had heard anything about a tracker either. The gossip in the tavern stayed focused on who was sleeping with who, who was with child, and who owed money to the crown. None of it mattered to him. None of these people were important enough to him. They weren’t pigeons to swindle or those who would have any knowledge of the would-be-saint. All they were was normal, everyday people going about their shitty lives. Kaz couldn’t hate them for not knowing anything and yet, he found them completely and utterly horrid.

The tavern the trio of crows found themselves in was as dank and depressing as every other tavern they’d seen. The lights flickered, the chairs creaked, and the glasses were more grime than glass. It was enough to make anyone’s stomach turn. Yet, it was also the one place that reminded any of them of home. The Barrel was home if they liked it or not. Most of the time, it was something that everyone hated.

Everyone wanted out of the Barrel. Yet very few ever made it out. Kaz knew he would never get out. His heart belonged there. All the torn, shredded, dirty pieces of it. There had never been anywhere else for him. There never would be.

“Are you sure she’ll show up here?” Inej questioned from her seat across from Kaz. She had a drink in her hands, although she stared into it as though it held every answer she’d ever searched for. He doubted she would actually drink it any time soon. Although, she had been known to surprise him.

“If she doesn’t come of her own accord,” Kaz began, staring at the patrons of the bar as he spoke, “then Kirigin will bring her. She’s his great victory. He’s a narcissist, he’ll be determined to show her off. To end the Fold and claim Ravka as his own.”

“Shouldn’t we help her then?"

"No,” he hadn’t told her of the club. Hadn’t told her what was at risk should they fail. No, he’d kept that to himself. It was his burden to bear. “She’s the mark. She’s not a damsel in distress.”

The tavern door opened, spilling fresh sunlight into the darkness. He nearly winced at the golden light. A woman slipped in, a cloak covering her head. He could see golden hair underneath it, strands falling down her shoulders despite whatever attempts had been made to pull it back.

The woman walked with an easy elegance, her feet barely touching the floor as she strode to the bar. He didn’t hear what she ordered, didn’t know what she said to the barkeep. He just saw the way the man sneered, the way her fingers twitched. Instead of reaching for a knife, as he had assumed she would, she tossed a coin onto the bar.

Kaz knew he should look away from her but there was something there. Something that tugged at his brain. He recognized something about the woman. That alone could be dangerous. She may have been a Grisha in disguise. Someone who was looking for them as a favor to Kirigin.

The woman turned once she got her drink, her eyes scanning the bar and landing on their table. The hood of her cloak concealed her face and yet, he could feel her gaze upon him. His spine stiffened as she made her way towards them. Her graceful walk almost looked like a dance.

A sinking feeling began in the pit of his stomach.

“Mr. Vanzin,” Anastasia Lantsov lowered her hood, a smile playing on her lips, “I’ve been looking for you.”

Wed, 28 Jul 2021 23:26:09

The Great Kerch Bake Off Fic

First of all I want to say a massive thankyou to @solarpqwer for all their help and support with Beta-ing this fic, this would have honestly been shambles without them. Also please go check out @ciph3rrr and their absolutely stunning art inspired by this fic , it was a joy to work with them again!

Without further ado, here’s my fic for the Six of Crows Mini Bang~

tarlya

The First Bake

Kaz’s leather clad fingers drum across the top of the counter as he slowly assesses his fellow bakers. They’re all standing ramrod straight, looking various degrees of nervous in anticipation of the competition that’s about to start. He’s pretty certain if he squints he can actually see a small bead of sweat trickling down the side of the young ginger man’s face on the bench in front of him.

Amateurs.

A quiet but pointed cough coming from one of the camera men just out of sight reminds him he’s also supposed to be standing still and, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself off the bat, he slides his hands down to his sides and schools his expression into something neutral rather than the mild boredom he was displaying before.

—

He’d spent the morning with his fellow contestants answering questions on camera, ready to be spliced into the intro of the show so the viewers could really ‘get to know the contestants and start rooting for you’ according to Anika, the tired looking lady with the half shaved hair and clipboard tasked with corralling the contestants between each shoot.

Kaz had remained impassive as people crowded around, fixing his hair and attaching mic packs to the inside of his suit. He sat still, even as the waters threatened to lap at his ankles and one hand straying a bit too close to his ear caused a small stone of dread to settle in the pit of his stomach.

He was here for a reason and he could get through this.

After about twenty minutes of spinning lies about his back story- “Yes I grew up absolutely adoring baking, my Pa could barely get me out of the kitchen,” and “I was so excited to get accepted, I called my friends right away when I found out.” He was allowed to leave, barely brushing past the small shadow of a girl that was on her way to be interviewed next. It made him pause because he hadn’t even realised she’d been standing there, probably for at least a couple minutes given the way her eyes seemed to question him as he went by.

He was a good liar on all accounts but something in her gaze made him feel seen. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

Making his way back to Anika for his next task, he passed by a couple others giving their interviews.

A beautiful lady in a very figure hugging dress chatted animatedly, “It doesn’t seem real, I’m looking forward to it, I’m ready for the Darkling to make me cry.” Her good natured laugh followed and it caused a few other crew members to smile alongside her.

In the next room over there was Jesper who also seemed to be winning his camera crew over.

“Oh yeah I achieve things, but I achieve them in the way one can achieve a hangover.” He smiled in a mischievous way that reached his eyes and as he saw Kaz watching him he shot him a subtle wink.

Kaz scowled in response and Jesper chuckled, swiftly returning to answer the next question that had been thrown at him.

—-

The interviews had been annoying but Kaz understood it was a necessary part of the show; they needed to sell the contestants so that viewers would keep coming back.

Kaz himself had made sure to do as much research as he could on the 12 other contestants, he didn’t like to be surprised.

Now they were just waiting for the judges to appear and as the sound of footsteps got louder the energy in the tent shifted, the air somehow grew electric. Even Kaz got drawn into the anticipation of seeing some of the best Bakers of their generation in the flesh.

Slowly they came into view, walking as if they had all the time in the world which, Kaz supposed, they probably did. It was no secret that even though Aleksander Kirigan didn’t technically own the show, his presence held a weight that was probably only matched by his co-host and protégé Alina Starkov.

The Darkling, as Kirigan was so popularly referred to, was well dressed in his signature all black attire while Alina wore a more casual outfit of jeans and an embellished blue jacket.

Flanking the two on either sides was the shows presenters, the ever flawless Genya whose fiery red hair had been twisted into an immaculate braid for the first episode and David, a much quieter presence in the tent but could spew facts about the technicalities of baking till the sun set.

Ever so quietly Kaz heard a soft “Oh” from the bench next to him.

His gaze snapped over to the lady from the interview earlier, Inej. She looked enraptured, her entire focus centred on the judges.

He tried to pull his attention away but there was something about her small smile and warm brown eyes staring in adoration ahead while the brilliant light from the summer sun painted a halo around her that made him pause.

He could hear them announcing the first challenge as a fruitcake and Nina’s hushed comment of “is it possible to be TOO fruity?” followed by a snicker from Jesper but he still couldn’t look away.

She lifted one delicate hand and shifted her long dark braid from her shoulder so it fell behind her back, clearly preparing herself for the challenge ahead. He swallowed and with effort turned to face the front.

No distractions.

The first challenge had begun.

—

Kaz’s hands flew across the ingredients, deftly checking inventory before getting to work. For a moment his focus narrowed and he surveyed his little world of the bench in front of him, a game he could twist to his own design. He had everything he needed to create a masterpiece.

Slowly the rest of the tent trickled into his awareness and he started listening to what his fellow contestants were doing.

He was acutely aware of Inej and the way her hands expertly unrolled a bag containing an impressively large collection of different knives. She wasted no time in picking up a small one and dicing fruits like the utensil was an extension of her own being. It spoke of a familiarity borne of years practising. She glanced up and met Kaz’s gaze and instead of looking concerned at his stare she held the ornately handled knife up so he could get a better view.

“It’s called Sankta Alina, after.. You know.” She said, her melted chocolate eyes flicking over to where the famous cook was currently interviewing a very gruff looking blonde man in a grey jumper- Matthias, Kaz’s brain supplied.

She was looking at him again now, her look seeming to penetrate straight through the carefully constructed image he held up, reading him like an old book.

He considered her words before responding, “She’s not a saint you know.”

“She is to me.” She contended his statement with the tiredness of someone who has made this argument a few times before.

He hummed noncommittally in response and she scoffed, seeming to view his lack of response as exactly what it was- a disagreement. In Kaz’s opinion, no saint ever helped him in the kitchen- everything he learnt was through hard work and the inability to stop when a plan for a recipe started to form.

They returned to their signature bakes, Kaz focusing on soaking his fruits in Brandy before moving on to the batter and Inej dropping her delicately sliced fruit into a bowl with some aromatic smelling tea.

—–

They were thirty minutes into the challenge before the first disaster struck. One of the benches a couple rows down let out a colourful string of expletives definitely not appropriate for a family friendly show and Kaz had to appreciate the extent of the lady’s vocabulary.

A mass of wavy brown hair popped up above the view of the counter from where it had previously been hidden, the strands irritably pushed back with an oven mitt to reveal Nina Zenik’s scowling face.

It took her no time to find Matthias and scowl at him. “You distracted me,” she huffed and even though they were separated by two benches, Kaz couldn’t help but be a little grateful the cutting words weren’t directed at him.

The man accused stood as tall as a mountain, his grey jumper sleeves pushed up to avoid being dipped in the flour currently decorating his hands and forearms. He leant forward so he was practically bent over his immaculately organised bench to look down on Nina as he replied. “I didn’t do anything, witch. It’s not my fault you barely glanced at your instructions.”

“If you hadn’t spent five minutes reading yours to yourself aloud, I might’ve had enough peace and quiet to read them and remember to turn the bloody oven on!” Nina seethed. She was standing to her full height now, practically nose to nose with the Fjerdan as they stared daggers at each other.

If the heat of their anger could cook a cake, they’d be golden. Kaz mused.

After a few more choice jabs and a brief warning from Anika off camera, they were eventually broken up by Jesper calling over to them, “Nina darling, if you want to use my oven to bake those biscuit thingies while yours heats up it’s all yours.”

Nina ended the argument by sticking her tongue out at Matthias for good measure.

He didn’t know what possessed him but he took a step closer to Inej’s bench, and once he had her attention quietly muttered, “I’d keep an eye on where you leave your knives with those two around.” He drew a gloved finger across his neck pointedly.

The laugh that followed sounded like he’d surprised it out of her, a sharp exhale followed by the most beautiful chime he’d ever heard. If Kaz could bottle that sound he would, surely nothing he could bake would ever compare to the warmth that bloomed unexpectedly in their shared space.

Fuck, that’s not a thought he was supposed to be having, it’s literally 40 minutes into the competition and he’s already losing it. Get a grip, Brekker.

Despite that, he was already trying to think of what to say that would bring that laugh out again.

They lapsed into silence, occasionally Inej would angle a comment his way or ask a question but mostly they just comfortably worked on their own things while chaos ensued around them.

—–

For the most part Kaz was pretty methodical with his baking, his steady hands lent well into the complex designs of the patisserie he was previously known for and he fully intended to use those to his advantage when decorating his alcoholic spiced fruit cake now. Meticulously he piped silky white ribbons of icing in intricate loops over the top of the cake, listening to the background noise of the judges interviewing contestants.

Jesper tried to goad the Darkling into betting five kruge that he couldn’t balance his sugar crusted orange peel in a gravity defying tower on his first attempt. He succeeded with neither and almost knocked Wylan’s bake off the bench in his attempt to catch some orange peel as it fell.

Wylan’s interview was interesting. He didn’t have a recipe written on paper in front of them, but he happily chirped away to David about the balance of ingredients and techniques needed to add small pockets of sherbet into his primarily lemon and blueberry fruit cake. Kaz filed away this more niche knowledge for a later date.

Alina was charmed instantly by Nina and from what Kaz could make out they shared very similar approaches to baking, both with incredible intuition for good flavour combos and no fear of changing the recipe to match their ideas.

Their interview was cut short though as Wylan let out a bit of a shriek and pulled his hand to his chest. With some detached interest Kaz watched as cameras swivelled towards the action, like sharks smelling fresh blood in the water. The young red head had managed to slice his finger with a knife and had to take a two minute pause to see the medics and be given a bright blue plaster.

Kaz was re-evaluating how much inspiration he should be taking from Wylan’s baking techniques.

——

It wasn’t long before The Darkling and Inej’s shining saint, Alina, made their way to his table. He was momentarily grateful his bench was closer to the back as it meant by the time they’d made their way to him he’d already completed the majority of the bake and now just needed to continue decorating.

“Good afternoon Kaz, I’m excited to see how your bake is going. What’s that?” Alina opened up the questioning with a cheery smile and a gesture towards the bowl he had in his gloved hands that he was stirring diligently.

Genya arrived at that moment behind Alina and poked her head over the judges’ shoulder. Alina made no move to push her away so Kaz assumed this familiarity was normal between them.

“Look’s kind of like that weird cocktail I had last week.” The red head commented contemplatively and Alina nodded in understanding.

Off camera Kaz could make out Anika animatedly gesturing for him to show the camera so he angled the bowl accordingly before replying “Pineapple soaked in brandy and rum.”

The Darkling narrowed his eyes at the mix and Kaz could see him mentally picking apart the flavour combination and looking for flaws.

“Oh it looks delicious, can I smell it?” Alina asked politely, and Kaz wasted no time passing it over to her.

Genya also inhaled deeply and smiled. “I haven’t tried spiced rum in quite a while.” Her voice took on a wistful tone.

“Do you want some?” He offered and picked up the bottle. Genya shrugged and nodded for him to go ahead.

“Oh I can’t drink alone.” Her perfect face crumpled slightly as she seemed conflicted.

He was distinctly aware of the clock ticking down as he scanned his eyes across the bench for a cup of sorts. Finding nothing, he just thought fuck it, and grabbed 2 measuring cups he’d used for water earlier placing them down with a clunk. His nimble fingers spun the top of the bottle off with ease and he poured two shots out for himself and Genya.

With a brief cheers they both tilted their heads back and downed the brown liquid in one fluid motion.

Alina’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement at them as she asked Genya how the flavour was. Kaz suspected if it weren’t for her strict tutelage under the Darkling restricting drinking in the kitchen, she’d be right alongside them.

Clearly neither of the judges had ever worked in a kitchen in The Barrel.

Kaz neatly placed the cups to the side and the Darkling took this moment to turn the questioning in a different direction. He seemed at a loss for words at Kaz’s behaviour, clearly it was not the norm for contestants to be taking shots mid interview and he wanted to steer it in a different direction.

“So why the gloves? The outfit is an interesting choice in general, but surely it’d be easier to bake without them?” He enquired, his deep voice cutting straight to the point. Kaz stilled, his hand reaching to straighten the front of his suit jacket as he weighed up his answer.

“Old habits, I guess. I used to work in an outdoor kitchen and we wore them to keep our hands warm while we cooked.” Every word was a lie, of course, but the Darkling didn’t need to know that.

Kaz saw his look of disbelief and felt more lies build up in the back of his throat, ready to answer whatever the judge threw at him next.

The next question never came. A plume of white powder shot up from the bench next to him and Kaz’s audience turned to face the new problem.

Inej and Nina stood, both frantically waving their hands around a mixer that was beating icing sugar like its very existence depended on it. A fine white mist filled the air and delicately coated the two women.

“What are you two doing over there?” Shock and confusion coloured the Darkling’s voice as he surveyed the carnage.

“Nothing.” Nina hastily responded, trying and failing to subtly cover the still whirring machine with a tea towel in some absurd attempt to hide it from view.

The judges and their entourage of cameras shuffled over and Kaz quickly returned to his bake, but not before catching the small smile Inej turned in his direction.

——

“Baker’s your time is up!” David announced clearly from the front of the tent.

There was scattered applause and moans from amongst the bakers as they placed down anything they were holding. Kaz watched Jesper go through the five stages of grief in about 10 seconds as he took his hand away from his fruit cake and the edge he’d been trying to stick back on slumped down the side rather pathetically.

When they called Jesper’s bake up for judging Kaz saw Wylan enthusiastically hurry over to help carry it. He heard Jesper jokingly mutter, “Now is not the time to re-enact Ghost with me,” which caused Wylan’s face to do an impressive imitation of the cherry’s he’d used to decorate his cake. He only barely caught the “You wish” that was hissed back but Kaz was sure the cameras caught every second of it.

The judges then proceeded to verbally rip apart his bake.

Then the next.

And the next.

Kaz was pretty certain he saw the smoke coming out of Matthias’ ears when the Darkling slapped down a slice of his cake on the table to reveal a stodgy grey mess on the inside and declared it to be “the worst cake ever baked in this tent.”

Nina gleefully called over, “Don’t worry we’ve still got a few more rounds to go! I’m sure it can get worse.”

They moved on to Nina next who, despite having a bit of difficulty with the decoration, somehow managed to hit it out of the park with her candied fruit cake that left even the Darkling struggling for criticism and Alina positively overjoyed.

The next three bakers were pretty unremarkable and before long the judges drew up to the bench a row in front of him that Wylan stood nervously behind.

Wylan had somehow managed to cut himself another two times and Kaz was starting to question how likely it was he was going to get to the end of the first episode with all ten fingers still attached.

The first bite of his cake had both the judges flinching back and screwing up their faces against the onslaught of flavour.

“It’s… sour? And what’s that on top?”

Wylan straightened up and despite his earlier hesitation managed to respond clearly. “It’s popping candy. I thought it’d really add to the experience.”

“It’s certainly explosive alright,” Alina mused but she seemed intrigued enough to try a second bite. “It’s a bit much at first when you’re not expecting it but it does grow on you.”

The Darkling didn’t seem to agree and poked the sponge. “It looks like slime.”

“Oh yeah in Ketterdam we have slime all the time, it’s actually an important part of our culture.” Wylan humorously countered, rolling with the critique, and Kaz had to respect his tenacity.

The judges agreed to disagree on their love of the cake and moved on.

Inej was next and she proudly presented a delicious smelling cake. She’d gone for a simple decoration of a tea infused glaze and candied lemons. She enthusiastically told Alina about her Suli heritage and how the recipe was one passed down through generations and eventually taught to her by her mother. The pride she held for her roots was evident in every word.

Kaz thought he saw her expression slip momentarily into a small look of sadness when she mentioned her parents and he made a mental note to ask her about it later when the cameras weren’t around.

Anika leant in frame briefly and whispered something to Alina who turned to Inej mid cutting up the cake and gently spoke, “Earlier you mentioned making an icing to go with this? Why did you decide to leave it out?”

Inej’s hands gripped her apron awkwardly as she replied, “I cooked the icing.”

The Darkling paused mid chew to look at her with concern. “You cooked the icing?”

“Yeah, by mistake. I was stressed.” She defended.

Alina looked between the two and tried to ease the tension by placing a comforting hand on Inej’s arm. “Well, I don’t think it needs it. This is superb without it.”

The beaming smile that broke across her face left Kaz speechless at his bench.

It was like experiencing the full force of an eclipse: one second he’s admiring sheer joy on Inej’s face and the next he’s being overshadowed by The Darkling’s looming figure.

Judgement time was here.

His fruitcake stood proud on a stand in front of him, he’d used pineapple pieces set in the cake to look like flowers that he’d only enhanced by delicately piping icing around them. It was some of his best work, a mix of traditional fruit cake and an upside down cake.

Silently the Darkling cut into the cake and offered a slice to his co-judge. He may have been silent but Alina’s bright excitement over his decorating skills and use of some of her favourite spices from growing up (intentionally chosen, of course) caused her to rattle off a small series of compliments.

“I really like the mix of flavours here, the alcohol to fruit ratio is really well balanced so it’s not too dense. Aleksander, what do you think?” Alina turned her attention to her co-host who was still looking at the bake critically.

“It’s a bit dry,” The Darkling conceded and then scowled as if the next words he was going to say tasted bitter in his mouth. ”Barely though, aside from that it’s pretty faultless.”

Kaz couldn’t help the smirk that curled up the corners of his mouth and when The Darkling grudgingly held a hand out for him to shake. He looked down at the outstretched hand and momentarily allowed himself to feel the small sliver of disgust that crept down his spine before taking it and shaking firmly.

One down, two more challenges to go.

Thankyou so much for reading!

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #soc fanfic #kaz brekker #inej gjafa #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #nina zenik #matthias helvar #wesper #helnik #shadow and bone #the darkling #alina starkov #fanfic #writing #gbbo au

@verdisaster

Wed, 02 Mar 2022 12:49:44

“The Wrong Ones”

New chapter is live on “Dealing With Our Demons” by ravenyenn19 on Ao3

Oooooofffff this one was hard to write. I hope y’all love it. I’m pretty nervous about this one, tbh. Idk. Self doubt and all that.

Thank you for everything, dear readers.

Linking my kofi! Right now I’m actually looking at binding my own copy of DWOD thus far and I’d love to go for it so I can have my own work on my shelf! That is to say that if I receive any donations for the next few weeks, I’ll be saving them for that, this time. If you can’t, please know I already owe you everything for just being here and reading what I write. I love you

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #shadow and bone #kaz x inej #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #dealing with our demons #soc fanfic #ao3 author #kanej fanfic #ao3 fanfic #six of crows fanfic #the battles of before #the dregs

Sat, 11 Jun 2022 06:54:51

Okay… so I’m verrrrrryyyyy motivated right now. Do y’all want me to aim to post DWOD & Dregs tonight or DWOD & battles of before???? (DWOD either way cause I can’t stop)

Fri, 10 Jun 2022 22:58:25

Emilia Winstrad watching me write the previous chapter and my next one:

(Also, she is almost exactly how I picture Emilia, though with black hair & dark eyes. In case you all wanted to put a face to our well-dressed, Sapphic, whiskey drinking Queen. *I cannot!!!! Cannot!!! Stress how excited I am to introduce even more facets of this character to you.)

Mon, 06 Jun 2022 02:34:21

I posted another look at my debut novel on tiktok if y’all care to see it! just wanted to hype it out cause I’m trying to get better at sharing about my original world and story as well as my fics!

Sun, 05 Jun 2022 12:54:52

“Buried”

New chapter is live on “Dealing With Our Demons” by ravenyenn19 on Ao3

So, please read the warning in my authors note. This ones heavy in true Bardugo fashion. I’m very very nervous for this chapter and I can’t decide whether I love it or hate it and I just would love to hear from y’all. Thank you forever

Linking my kofi! It would mean the world to me if you guys could check it out, I’m currently saving for self publication if the traditional route doesn’t pan out. If you can’t, please know you already do more than enough by reading what I write and by being here.

Sun, 05 Jun 2022 07:50:05

So I know I have followers who are also artists (which I desperately wish I was but alas words are my thing not drawing/painting/anything else). My point to this post is I’m literally on my hands and knees praying for someone to draw Emilia.

I just…. I just wanna show y’all how much I love her. How proud I am of this character.(THIS HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH MY NEXT CHAPTER. None. None whatsoever.)

Anyways…. I’ll fade back into the ether now. New chapter to edit before it goes live and all that nonsense.

Sat, 04 Jun 2022 23:11:43

So I know I’ve uploaded a lot the past few days, how y’all feeling about one more chapter up later? Or should I be slower? It’s how I am, when I’m ready to go, I launch. I also know everyone has gotten used to my slower updates as of late…. What do we think? (also I still cannot respond in the comments of posts on here I don’t know why but I do read them!)

Fri, 03 Jun 2022 20:13:38

“That Kind”

New chapter is live on “Dealing With Our Demons” by ravenyenn19 on Ao3

I hope you love it, guys. I cannot wait for the next one. Thank you for being here and I love you (keeping this note short because I’m very sleepy sorry ily)

Linking my kofi! If you love my work it would mean the world to me if you could check it out- but as always, just know that reading what I write is the biggest form of support I could possibly hope for as an author! I love you

Fri, 03 Jun 2022 07:51:20

“Mistakes In The Mending”

New chapter is live on “Dealing With Our Demons” by ravenyenn19 on Ao3

Guys… I just hope you love it. I really do. It’s a tough one and a special one. I can’t wait to hear what you think. Seriously. Ahh!

Linking my kofi page! If you love my writing, I’d appreciate it so much if you checked it out! If you can’t, just know that you are supporting me more than I could ever hope for by just reading what I write and being here. I love you forever

Wed, 01 Jun 2022 05:09:39

So I just had an entire Kanej modern au write itself in my head and I either need y’all to talk me down from adding a project onto my plate or hype it up. I…. I think it could be good. Like, actually worthy of a contemporary romance book good??? I don’t know…. Do I do it? Do I tackle another fic? Or don’t i???

In other news, DWOD will be updated later tonight.

PS- I can no longer seem to respond on posts on tumblr? Does anyone know how to fix it??? It’s so weird. My asks still work and I can still post/reblog/etc but it won’t let me comment anywhere or respond even on my own posts??

Tue, 31 May 2022 20:25:13

“Courageous Houses”

New chapter is live on “Dealing With Our Demons” by ravenyenn19 on Ao3

Guys. Guys. GUYS. I’m so effing excited for this one and the next. Like, had to stop myself from just staying up all night even though I have work in the morning just to try and edit 5k more words to smoosh the two chapters together. Ultimately, I have to make the choice here to split them both because it’s smart and because I can’t not sleep as I so often do. BUT IM SO EXCITED. I hope you love it and I hope you’re all here until the end because I still have some mega plot things up my sleeve that I cannot wait to share. I love you all and I hope you enjoy! I’ve missed you lately and I just wanted you to know that.

Linking my kofi! If you love my writing I’d love for you to check it out! If not, know that every time you read what I write you are supporting a dream I have spent my life chasing and will continue to chase. It means more to me than anything else in the world.

Sun, 29 May 2022 03:23:47

Hey y’all Going to be uploading soon! I’m so excited for what’s coming up for all the stories! You cannot imagine how long I’ve waited for you to read some of this! I just wanted to update you because I’ve been having some technical issues (see also: my cat got to my laptop charger, despite that I’d put it out of his reach, and chewed through it) Which I cannot tell you how frustrating it is.

That being said, if y’all love my writing and want to help fund my new laptop charger and a better squirt bottle for my cat, I’m linking my kofi page here! I’m never really the type to ask for help but it would be greatly appreciated as it’s not a cheap mistake that occurred.

If not, guys you know reading my stuff is more support than I could ever deserve or earn and I love ya the most. Just be patient with me over the next few days as I get my uploads up anyways thanks for reading this whole dang thing.

Wed, 25 May 2022 21:13:27

So I uh, just posted a sneak peek of my debut novel on tiktok…. If you guys are interested… *nervous screech*. If you love found family, LGBTQIA+ rep, POC rep, multiple POV & a slow burn sort of love (you know I do)…then this ones for you (see also: Six of Crows meets Moonknight with a pinch of Mulan style women empowerment)

Based off of Egyptian mythology with a wild streak of fantasy, I welcome you into the world of Duat… When ashes and sand collide, who can separate one grain from the next? Working title: ‘Desert’s Dance’ by yours truly.

If y’all have ever wanted to hype my writing…. Please hype this one, I’m querying now! Thank you for reading my fics, and I hope someday to take you to new places with my writing….

Thu, 19 May 2022 07:56:43

Hi everyone! Popping on here to let you know I’m editing my next uploads for all stories currently and I’m so happy to be back to posting. I’ve missed you guys a ton! In that same vein, I’ll have my tumblr logged in this afternoon and if you guys have any questions, shoot me an ask! Keep me company? (this is just an easy way for me to get back to y’all in closer to real time!)

Wed, 18 May 2022 19:33:34

“Have Me”

New chapter is live on “Dealing With Our Demons” by ravenyenn19 on Ao3

Hi guys, I’m finally back. To save you from reading a long message here, please read my authors notes. But to put a long ramble short: I’ve missed you all and I love you to pieces.

Thank you forever & a day for your unending support and kindness & for reading what I write.

Linking my kofi! If you love what I write, please consider checking it out. Literally anything helps right now as I’m saving toward publication of my own novels in case traditional publishing doesn’t work out. I also use this to help fund my copious caffeine addiction and writing subscriptions to Microsoft word etc. If you cannot, please know that reading what I write is already more support than I could ever ask for or earn. Thank you.

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #shadow and bone #kaz x inej #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #dealing with our demons #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #six of crows fanfic #soc fanfic #writer #fanfic authors #the battles of before #the dregs

Tue, 17 May 2022 05:51:58

“Something Sour This Way Comes”

New chapter is live on “The Dregs” by ravenyenn19 on Ao3

Hi hello I’m sorry it’s taken so long. Please read the authors note so I don’t ramble here, but I’m so happy to be back. Specifically with this story- I never would have started when I did if I’d known I wouldn’t be able to offer the level of consistency I wanted, but I hope you’re all excited and I’ve missed you so much.

As always, thank you for being here. For supporting me, even during hiatuses, and for just reading what I write. I love you.

Thu, 12 May 2022 02:54:45

So. If I decided to write (or maybe already wrote during my hiatus), the internal monologues of Kaz & Inej during scenes from the show…. Would you guys want me to publish them as a series? Would you want to read them?

If not, that’s okay!!! I just was playing with it and I think some of it is good and and *nervous author screeches into the void*