#Team Kerch

[nine-is-not-a-ten]

the crows' olympic sports

kaz: javelin throw (would use his cane)

inej: gymnastics (she'd be silent & graceful and 100% mysterious)

wylan: fucking shotput (yeet that bitch)

jesper: marksmanship (obviously)

matthias: wrestling (PURE MUSCLE BOIIII)

nina: weightlifting (she'd be this unsuspecting competitor and then WHAM GOLD MEDAL)

[roseandxanderfics]

“The Fox’s Dilemma” - Kaz Brekker x reader

Summary: Kaz and a mysterious Grisha with the power to manipulate light team up for a high-stakes heist, but as their dangerous alliance deepens, so does their undeniable attraction.

———————

Kaz Brekker was many things. Ruthless. Calculating. Unyielding. He had built his empire from nothing, using his mind, his ambition, and his ability to manipulate every situation to his favor. He was always in control, always the one pulling the strings, never the one left exposed. But there was one thing Kaz had never been able to fully control: the Grisha.

He had no problem with Grisha—he used them when he had to, he manipulated them, he even tolerated them at times. But this Grisha was different.

You were different.

Kaz first met you during a job, one of the many that made him the infamous leader of the Dregs. It had been a simple deal—steal a few Grisha artifacts, slip past the patrols, and get paid. But the moment he laid eyes on you, he realized that the task was going to be anything but simple.

You were standing in the shadows, watching the exchange unfold, your eyes glinting with an unreadable expression. It wasn’t just your beauty that drew his attention, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. It was your power. You were a Grisha, but not the kind he was used to. No Heartrender, no Squaller, no Inferni—no, you were something far subtler, something more dangerous.

You were a Fabricator, a master of light. But your powers went far beyond what Kaz had anticipated. You could weave illusions—create entire worlds of light and shadow that could trick anyone’s senses. You could manipulate how people saw the world, and with that power, you could make them believe anything you wanted them to believe.

Kaz had never met anyone like you, and that alone made you dangerous.

⸻

It wasn’t long before Kaz sought you out, his reasons cloaked in mystery, just as always. He needed something, and you were the only one who could provide it.

“Are you looking for another job, Kaz?” you asked, your voice calm and steady, betraying none of the curiosity that flickered behind your eyes.

Kaz stood before you in the dim light of the little bar where you’d met. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He was dressed in his usual attire—sharp, meticulous, like everything about him had been carefully crafted for a single purpose.

“No. This is… different,” Kaz replied, his voice low. “I need your help. You have an ability that could be very useful.”

You raised an eyebrow. “My ability? I’m sure there are others who would be more than capable.”

Kaz’s smirk faded slightly. “Not like you. You can create illusions—perfect, believable illusions. That’s something I need. Something that will give me an edge.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “And why should I help you, Kaz Brekker? What’s in it for me?”

Kaz’s eyes flicked to yours, sharp and calculating. “You’ve heard of the Ice Court?”

Of course, you had. Who hadn’t? The Ice Court was the most secure prison in all of Kerch, home to some of the most dangerous criminals and secrets imaginable. A place that was nearly impossible to infiltrate.

“You want to break into the Ice Court?” you asked, skepticism creeping into your voice.

“I don’t need to break in,” Kaz replied, his tone clipped, “I just need a distraction. A diversion. You can make the guards see something that isn’t there. You can get us the opening we need.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering. You had no love for the Ice Court, but you weren’t particularly fond of Kaz Brekker either. And yet… his offer was tempting. You had no real ties to anyone, no reason not to use your power as leverage.

“What’s the catch?” you finally asked.

Kaz smiled, the glint in his eyes telling you everything you needed to know. “Help me, and you’ll get something you want in return. But I always keep my word, Grisha. I’ll get you what you need.”

The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, a silent understanding passing between you. Kaz Brekker always played his cards close to his chest, but you knew he had something in mind, and that intrigued you more than anything.

You crossed your arms. “Fine. But I get to set the terms. And if I don’t like what I see, Kaz, I won’t hesitate to walk away.”

Kaz didn’t flinch. His gaze never wavered. “Agreed.”

⸻

The plan was set. You and Kaz, working together, preparing for the infiltration. You would be the distraction—the light weaver, blinding the guards and confusing their senses. In the chaos, Kaz and his crew would slip past undetected, grab what they needed, and escape.

But the closer you got to the job, the more you realized how much you had underestimated Kaz Brekker. He wasn’t just a thief; he was a master strategist, and he had a way of making everything seem effortless.

You had your doubts. Working with Kaz was dangerous, and the stakes were higher than you were comfortable with. But there was something else that kept you there, something you couldn’t ignore. It was the way Kaz looked at you—like you were a puzzle he wanted to solve, a game he was determined to win.

And maybe, just maybe, you liked it.

⸻

The night of the job, the plan went off without a hitch. You stood outside the Ice Court, hidden in the shadows, focusing on the guards. Your power hummed in your fingertips, the familiar rush of energy coursing through you as you began to weave the illusion. You bent light around you, shaping it into an image of false reality, a vision of chaos that would disorient the guards and give Kaz and his crew the perfect opening.

Kaz was precise, always. He’d already slipped past the first line of defense, and now it was up to you to ensure the rest of the plan went smoothly.

The guards’ reactions were immediate—eyes wide with confusion, weapons raised, shouting to each other in alarm. It was perfect. They were seeing things that weren’t there, their senses twisted by your illusions.

Kaz moved like a shadow through the chaos, but as you watched him, something shifted in you. The way he operated was so cold, so calculated, and yet there was something about him that made you question whether he truly had control of everything. You’d seen him take risks before, seen him push people to their limits. But in that moment, watching him move effortlessly through the disarray, you realized something important.

Kaz Brekker wasn’t invincible. He was just good at making everyone believe he was.

⸻

When the job was over, and the artifact was secured, Kaz came to you. There was no fanfare, no celebration—just the quiet satisfaction of a job well done.

“I did my part,” you said, watching him carefully. “Now, what do I get in return?”

Kaz didn’t speak for a long time. His expression remained unreadable, but you could see the shift in his eyes. There was something more there now, something he wasn’t saying.

“You’ll get what you want,” he finally said. “I keep my word.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. Instead, you turned to leave, but Kaz’s voice stopped you.

“Stay,” he said, the word surprisingly gentle. It was so unlike him that it made you pause. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You turned back to face him, meeting his gaze head-on. “You’ll never be done with me, Kaz Brekker. But the question is—will I ever be done with you?”

Kaz didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, and for the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes—something that could be called… vulnerability. You didn’t know how long it would last or what it meant, but in that moment, Kaz Brekker wasn’t the cold, calculating thief. He was just a man, standing before you, unsure of what came next.

And in that moment, for all his arrogance and control, you realized Kaz Brekker wasn’t the only one who was dangerous.

[musicallisto]

jesper fahey + 💿

· · · · ♡ VENOM (jesper fahey)

… starring jesper fahey x f!reader ... based on venom by stray kids ... 1.7k words ... in which jesper and you are the best shots in all of ketterdam, but assassination missions never go as planned ... warnings for death, gun violence ... what were the ODDS of pulling this song i'm still screaming!! anyway i went a bit more literal with the title than the song really says but i hope you enjoy this

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 Kerch never dressed in the morning with their impending assassination in mind.

Out of hubris, perhaps – they thought themselves above the black canines of Ketterdam, as though Ghezen’s favors shielded them in the starless alleys. Or out of negligence – after all, they had many an important matter on their daily schedules, meetings with partners and stock markets to analyze and speculation bubbles to burst… it all left little room for death.

But death, undiscriminating, sent her rats forth to bite into pale, delicate necks ruffled collars and striped ties had no chance of protecting. Today, the rats were Jesper Fahey and you.

“So… which of these toys should I use to take them out this time? Your pick.”

“You? Do you want to get us killed?”

Both of you were lying on your stomachs on some sooty rooftop, overlooking a shopping avenue of the capital. Beautiful Ketterdam awakened gently, caressed by the first rays of dawn; shutters creaked upwards, windows opened to let the sea air flood in, and the earliest risers stifled their last yawns in the shopping street below. They were few; this part of town was lazier than what you were used to in the Barrel, its residents accustomed to the silky warmth of mid-morning rustling them awake on Sundays.

Thankfully for you, that meant fewer witnesses to sound the alarm… and an easier time locating the target.

 “What? You know I’m the best shot in this hellhole,” Jesper turned to look at you, frowning. Difficult to say if he had really taken offense at your words or if he was only pestering you for fun, as always. You kept your gaze firmly locked on the comings and goings of people below, strolling back home with steaming pastries or braving the Northern breeze for an invigorating promenade.

“Yeah, and also the loudest. We need to do this the subtle way.”

“Subtle,” Jesper scoffed. “Why the hell did Kaz sent me out here if he wanted subtlety?”

“He probably wanted you to cover me. You know? Be my second…”

“Pfft!” Your acolyte rolled his eyes, his chuckle rumbling through the finely carved bricks under your chests with just a point of humor. “There’s only one second in this team and we all know who it is.”

You resisted the temptation to elbow him – it would only encourage his antics further. Both of you knew you were, out of all the Dregs, the best-matched duo, both in terms of temperament and skill. To Jesper’s brash hyperactivity, you brought level-headed professionalism; where his sarcastic quips and surprisingly wistful tales of infinite Zemeni fields distracted you on long, grueling covert missions, your quick wit and lightning-fast reflexes got you out of all sorts of sticky situations – that Jesper never failed to recount on Crow Club evenings, with all their exaggerated epithets. Besides… you were at least the second-best shot in this hellhole. Kaz knew as much, and so did Jesper, though he never failed to highlight the fact the boss still believed him superior; and so Kaz never sent one on the field without the other. No matter how many times you returned from operations swearing on all the Saints that one day, you would gouge out Jesper Fahey’s eyes.

“There he is,” you tensed all of a sudden, narrowing your eyes, and Jesper stopped fidgeting next to you.

A red beret that concealed nothing of already advanced baldness… the swaggering, smug gait of a man who has everything and therefore thinks he can lose nothing… and that ridiculous collar, typical of influential merchants, that exposed the entire nape of his neck. There was no mistaking the description Kaz had given you – if anything, you were surprised to see him up so early, and not flanked by a wife or bodyguards. As to why Brekker wanted the man dead, well… inconsequential to you. You weren’t close enough to him to expect a justification, and if Jesper knew the grudge his friend held against yet another rich middle-aged man in Kerch… he hadn’t thought it relevant to mention.

“Okay, get set,” you ordered. When your tone got cold and your hands tightened around your dart gun, Jesper knew better than to keep up with the bravado. “Remember, soon as he’s on the ground, we’re outta here.”

“Got it, boss.”

A faint ember of light shimmered in your belly, but you stopped it before the emotion could get to your cheeks. The rare moments when Jesper acknowledged you as his equal did feel nice. Your admiration for the sharpshooter, practically an idol to all the famished mouths in the Barrel, was a secret to no one… but him.

Slowly, you lifted the visor of your gun to your eye, keeping your finger away from the trigger. Your breathing slowed as you scanned the faces below… and stopped, once you had your sights on the target. Not once did he look up… and not once did you think about the family who’d mourn him.

Death, too, worked her hours. Everyone had to make a living in Ketterdam, indeed.

“Y/N, don’t-!”

You pressed the trigger, and the recoil barely got a blink out of you as the air whistled past the dart. A second passed in stunned silence, just enough time to hear your heart beat, and what you could’ve sworn was Jesper’s too. Then it all erupted at once.

It was the screams that first caught your attention. The first, hoarse and purposeful, rose from the sidewalks below and grazed the brick walls like blades against metal. Most of the policemen had their sights and guns raised at you, screaming unintelligible words; the rest of the unexpected patrol rushed to the merchant’s side right as he collapsed on the damp ground, pierced through the neck with impeccable precision. He was dead before he hit the ground, the dose of venom you’d injected him largely above the lethal threshold.

Then the shrill, biting howls of the bullets fusing in the air between Jesper and you tangled with the high-pitched shrieks of horrified passersby.

“Crap! Where did they come from?!” you screamed, both of you ducking behind the brick ledge for cover like well-oiled machinery.

“You wanna stick around long enough to find out?”

“Not really, no,” you huffed through gritted teeth.

So much for not making a scene.

You grabbed Jesper’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding his handgun. Later on, you’d play the gesture off as a reflex, merely more than accidental, evidence of you being a true team player – but you’d long ponder the way his clammy palm in yours had cleared your mind and clouded it all at once, filled you with immense safety and overpowering fear, if only for an instant.

“Let’s get out of here!”

“Hold on a second-“

“Jesper! Now’s not the time to play hero!”

You doubted he heed your words. Jesper was damn predictable to those who had worked with him long enough – there was no way of distracting him when his brain registered the smell of burning lead, when his ears caught the unmistakable tinkling of cartridge cases on the ground. The duel was Jesper Fahey’s favorite game, merely a competition he could never turn down… let alone die from.

He sprung to his feet, crouched against the ledge, and as if the whole death match was just another joke to him, he twirled the handgun in one hand, blew on it, and murmured as a good luck wish, “Do your thing, love.”

The next second, his face was swallowed by the billowing white smoke from the barrel of his gun, as he spewed leaden poison from his unshaken hands. From the safety of your hiding spot, you watched him, your heart pounding with what, admiration or terror, you no longer knew, but the city and the whole earth disappeared in the space of a gunshot and only remained the bulletproof braggart, all draped in white clouds like a demigod.

And then, as quickly as the torrent of noise had swept down the street, it dried up, and an unreal calm descended on the dazed neighborhood.

Jesper leaned over to you, making sure he was out of reach from the attackers below, and took in your parted lips and wide eyes with uncharacteristic worry.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”

It took you a few moments to register his words, and then some more to notice his hand had gently cusped your jaw, lifting your chin to examine your face and neck for any trace of injury.

“N-No, I’m good,” you snapped out of your trance, and immediately Jesper retreated his hand… leaving you to miss the calloused heat of his fingers more than you’d care to admit.

“What’s that? Oh, thank you Jesper for saving my life! You really are the best shot in all of Ketterdam!” he trumpeted in a comically high-pitched voice with a smug grin. “Oh, well, it was nothing. Don’t bother. Just doing my job!”

“Shut up. Come on, let’s get out of here before they send any more our way.”

“I hope they do. You’re down four kills to one and you’re not even trying to catch up?”

This time, you made sure you grabbed your sleeve and not his skin; nothing to give him more leverage to use against you later, when he’d be boasting to Inej about leaving Y/N speechless with his sharpshooting skills. With a good-natured sigh, he got to his feet, and you retreated towards the lower roofs you’d used on your climb together.

And death called back her rats to her side, vanishing into soot and silence.

· · · · ♡ tags! @retvenkos @sassyscribbler @lettersoftroy @rosesnink

[bazkrekkerbrokemyshin]

Give me a crash course

Okay, so I may have turned this crash course into a full on lecture about everything you'd need to know in order to understand the fandom...

Anyway, obligatory spoiler warning for Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom (the sequel) under the cut!

Let's start with the "Six of Crows" themselves:

Kaz "Dirtyhands" Brekker, 17 (criminal mastermind; lock picking extraordinaire; Lieutenant of the Dregs; scariest thing in the Barrel; always wears gloves for some spooky/mysterious reason; beats opponents up with his crow-headed cane)

Inej "Wraith" Ghafa, 16 (grew up as a talented acrobat in Ravka; sold into a brothel in the Barrel when she was 14 after being taken from her family; now the best spy around; carries an unbelievable amount of knives on her at all times, and is extremely capable with them)

Jesper Fahey, 17 (grew up on a farm in Novyi Zem; moved to Ketterdam for university; ended up dropping out and becoming a gambling addict; now the best sharpshooter around)

Nina Zenik, 17 (a heartrender; was in the Ravkan military with other Grisha; now occasionally works for Kaz and has an ulterior motive of getting Matthias out of the most secure prison in Ketterdam)

Matthias Helvar, 18 (grew up in Fjerda; was a druskelle AKA Grisha hunter; fell in love with Nina after capturing her; is now in Hellgate AKA the previously mentioned prison because of her)

Wylan Van Eck, 16 (son of wealthy and powerful merchant Jan Van Eck, who is an unfathomably terrible person; was disowned for being dyslexic, which Jan thought made him an unworthy heir; is now wandering around the Barrel after his father tried to have him killed)

Six of Crows takes place in the Grishaverse, where Grisha (people born with powers, AKA practice the "Small Science") exist, and are typically ranked in the following orders:

Corporalki: Order of the Living and the Dead (includes Heartrenders like Nina, who can control living matter, and are extremely powerful because they can do things like stop people's hearts with a gesture of the hand.)

Ethrealki: Order of the Summoners

Materialki: Order of the Fabrikators (includes Durasts, who can manipulate solid materials to their will. Jesper is a Durast, but we don't learn that until later because he was taught to hide it at a young age for his safety. Kaz always knew, of course.)

The book takes place in the Barrel, which is essentially the filthiest part of Ketterdam, a city in the island nation of Kerch. Here's a map:

Some background knowledge:

The Barrel is essentially where all the tourists go to throw their money at gambling rings and pleasure houses, but what's even more fun is that it's all gang territory. There are many gangs, but the most important one in this story is the Dregs, which most of the Crows (Kaz, Inej, Jesper) are a part of. After experiencing one of the most tragic backstories known to man, Kaz worked his way up in the Barrel and now essentially runs the Dregs, even though he's only the Lieutenant. Jesper is his right hand man, and Inej is his go-to spy (/BFF/eventual crush).

The thing about Kaz "Dirtyhands" Brekker is that he has a reputation of accepting even the dirtiest of jobs, the ones no one else is willing to take (for moral reasons, stakes, whatever). This leads into the main plot:

Kaz is offered an insane amount of money to break into the Ice Court---supposedly the most secure building in the world, all the way over in Fjerda---to abduct an imprisoned scientist who invented a powerful and dangerous drug (jurda parem). It kills regular people and makes Grisha overpowered (until it kills them, too). Fjerdans captured him because they wanted to use it against Grisha, their greatest enemy. The man offering was none other than Jan Van Eck, but we don't know he's evil yet.

Kaz accepts, and builds a team consisting of the six main characters. This is how they all come together. Kaz finally breaks Matthias out of Hellgate (he could've done it a long time ago when Nina first asked, but had no reason to), and Wylan is the final addition as the team's demolitions expert. As it turns out (Kaz always knew, he knows everything about everyone in the Barrel and brought the team together), Wylan is extremely skilled in chemistry and can build bombs!

A lot of the book follows how Matthias hates being brought on the team at first because he doesn't want to betray his home country, Nina betrayed him, and the druskelle (Fjerdan Grisha-hunters) would disown him if anyone knew he fell for her "tricks." Eventually he starts changing his way of thinking, becoming more open-minded and realizing maybe his druskelle brothers weren't necessarily the "good guys" after all. (This doesn't happen until way later, though. He's very brainwashed.)

After many obstacles, the Crows make it to Fjerda and start towards the Ice Court. Eventually we learn Kaz's tragic backstory, which explains the reason why he wears gloves 24/7. TL;DR: his entire family died in a series of unfortunate events, he ended up in a pile of plagued corpses in the canal (Reaper's Barge) because some employees thought he was dead, and he had to use his beloved older brother (Jordie)'s body to float to land. Now he can't stand skin-to-skin contact. He was 9 when this all happened BTW.

The person they were assigned to abduct from the Ice Court had apparently died before they got there, so they took the next best thing: his son, Kuwei Yul-Bo, who also happened to be in the prison cell and surely knew at least something about the jurda parem his father created.

Throughout the book, three romantic relationships are established. Kaz and Inej (Kanej), Matthias and Nina (Helnik), and Wylan and Jesper (Wesper).

During their escape from the Ice Court, Nina consumes jurda parem to heighten her Heartrender powers to escape the Fjerdan military. It makes her powerful enough to end the battle in an instant, but soon afterwards she deals with the withdrawals of addiction and her powers are changed. Now instead of the living, she calls upon the dead, thus explaining why you may see her referred to as a "Corpsewitch."

The book ends with the Crows arriving back in Ketterdam to make their exchange with Jan Van Eck, who we now know is extremely abusive towards Wylan and hates him so much he attempted to have him killed. On the surface, the exchange would be Kuwei for $30 mil. However, both sides had some tricks up their sleeves.

Unfortunately, the exchange goes in Van Eck's favor, Kaz doesn't get his money, and the Crows are attacked by Grisha drugged with jurda parem (extremely addictive, essentially turns them into mindless minions).

As the Grisha attack, Kaz briefly and instinctively looks over to Inej. Van Eck realizes this is Kaz's tell (she's the only thing he seems to actually care about), orders the Grisha to abduct Inej, and let's just say Kaz is not happy about it.

This leads into the sequel, Crooked Kingdom. I'm not gonna say much about this one, just the important bits.

They save Inej

We meet Colm Fahey, Jesper's dad

Kaz finally takes down Pekka Rollins, the leader of the Dime Lions (gang) and the man who destroyed his life

Kaz becomes the official leader of the Dregs, which makes him a "Barrel Boss"

Jan Van Eck is sent to prison thanks to another one of Kaz's insane yet genius plans

Jesper accepts himself as a Durast

Nina grows into her Corpsewitch powers

Matthias decides he wants to go with Nina back to Fjerda to change everyone's minds about Grisha, convincing them they're not unnatural monsters

...Matthias is shot and killed by a young druskelle who happened to recognize him (OH, THE PARALLELS!!!)

Everyone gets their millions of kruge (Kerch currency) from the job, so they are free from the financial burdens that were weighing them down (Nina gets Matthias' cut, too)

Kaz (like the simp he is) gifts Inej a ship to hunt slavers like the ones who took her, and surprises her even further by reuniting her with her parents

Jesper and Wylan live together in the Van Eck mansion, now that Jan Van Eck is gone

Nina goes back to Ravka, becomes a spy for them, and goes undercover in Fjerda to take them down from the inside

---

BOOM, DONE!

[eddieisashifter]

𓄿 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 — ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇸​​🇮​​🇽​ ​🇴​​🇫​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇴​​🇼​​🇸​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇱​​🇮​​🇹​​🇾​

❝some of us were born on the streets of ketterdam, while others chose to make it our home, and others were forced into her life of violence and crime. but, there's one thing that's different between us and the other poor suckers on the street. we've made our way in the violence and thrived through it. ketterdam raises monsters, and we're the one who are going to burn it to the ground.❞

𓄿 EDMUND "EDDIE" CROWLEY — THE SHADOW OF KETTERDAM he/they transmasc non-binary ravkan grisha 17 years bisexual

𓄿 ❝the shadow doesn't just blend into them, he becomes them. He vanishes from the light and becomes one with the shadows that he claimed his name from. some say he's a dejmin, a witch of ravka. though, you never get a chance to ask him. he's about as mysterious as he is lethal.❞

they don't realize how close to the truth they are. it's almost humorous.

I spend my early life in my home country, though I hardly ever considered it home. ravka was more like an absent parent, claiming to care for you yet never proving it. this was made even more evident when my grisha abilities began to manifest and they saw what I was. a monster of the old stories. a shadow summoner.

they saw me as a danger, and they never quite knew what to do with me. I was constantly watched, panic rising whenever I tested my abilities. stories of the black heretic sowed fear through my small town. they tried to keep me a secret, but it didn't last long. eventually, the second army got wind of me. the last thing I wanted to be was a soldier, so I ran.

it was easy to cross the fold, shrouding myself in darkness, and get onto a ship on the ravkan coast. I ended up on the island of kerch, where I found myself in ketterdam.

the thing about ketterdam is that no one looks twice at you, you can be whoever you want to be. reinvent yourself. and that was what I did. I used my shadow summoning abilities to my advantage to become a bit of a freelancer, running jobs for whatever crime boss paid the best.

that was, until I met kaz brekker.

kaz was different than anyone else I worked with. the only one who seemed to have a modicum of trustworthiness in him. at least, he was an honest businessman, always keeping to the terms of the deals he set out. I found myself working for him more often than not.

eventually, he offered me a place in the dregs, which I took with the exception that I'd get to keep dealing with old clients. he agreed, surprisingly. I quickly became his closest ally and most trusted, alongside the new spy he'd brought on, inej ghafa.

keeping my old clients was a good choice in the long run, however. a mercher I used to work with is rumored to be running a job, a big one, with an even bigger payout. but, if we're to capitalize on it...

we're gonna need a bigger team.

now playing....

blood//water — grandson 0:37 ──⚬──── 3:36 ⇆ ◃◃ ıı ▹▹ ↻

next in the crow club queue;

nina cried power — hozier wolf in sheep's clothing — set it off money, money, money — abba teenagers — my chemical romance trouble — valerie broussard everything black — unlike pluto, mike taylor eat your young — hozier aint no rest for the wicked — cage the elephant

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part twenty

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral with a bit on canonical violence

el's thoughts: nothing much (this was soooo fun to write)! hope you enjoy!

series masterlist

Over the next day, Y/N saw Kaz begin to move the pieces of his scheme into position. She’d been privy to his consultations with every member of his crew, but she’d learned that she was seeing only fragments of his plan. That, apparently, was the game Kaz played. 

If he had doubts about what they were attempting, it didn’t show, and Y/N wished she shared his certainty. The Ice Court had been built to withstand an onslaught of armies, assassins, Grisha, and spies. When she’d said as much to Kaz, he simply replied, “But it hasn’t been built to keep us out.”

His confidence unnerved her. “What makes you think we can do this? There will be other teams out there, trained soldiers and spies, people with years of experience.”

“This isn’t a job for trained soldiers and spies. You know that. It’s a job for thugs and thieves. Van Eck knows it, and that’s why he brought us in.”

“He brought you in. Nikolai sent me for this mission. You had a lead before Van Eck told you anything about it. Plus, you can’t spend his money if you’re dead.”

“I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

“This isn’t a joke, Kaz, for Saints’ sake. There’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.”

He’d turned his back on her then, giving each of his gloves a sharp tug. “And when I want a sermon on that, I know who to come to. If you want out, just say so.”

Her spine had straightened, her own pride rising to her defense. “Matthias isn’t the only irreplaceable member of this crew, Kaz. You need me.”

“I need your skills, Y/N. That’s not the same thing. You may be the best Grisha soldier in Ravka, but you’re not the only one. You’d do well to remember it if you want to keep your share of the haul.”

“You’d do well to remember just who you’re talking to, Kaz Brekker. Sure I’m the best Grisha soldier in Ravka, but I’m the only Phoenix. I’m your only solid connection to Ravka. I’m the only one Nikolai truly trusts.” She stepped closer to him, anger seeping out of her, Kaz felt waves of heat radiate off of her. “And you have no right to tell me I’m replaceable.”

She turned on her heel and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. 

Now, as she headed towards the harbor, she wondered what truly kept her here.

“Stay.”

She froze at the feeling of the leather on her skin, the air leaving her lungs in a gasp. 

“Stay in Ketterdam.” 

The moment in the chapel replayed in her head and her heart clenched. She came back to Ketterdam for work, as an order, but a part of her came back for him. And this is what she gets for following her heart just a little bit. Maybe Kirigan was right after all. People like her had no room for love in their lives.

She could leave Kerch anytime she wanted. She could go back home to Ravka. Back to Alina and Nikolai. Back to Zoya, her sweet suli friend, or Genya. People who showed her the respect she deserved. The respect she had earned. But she remembered that she had done nothing among the Dregs to earn that kind of respect. Among the crows, sure, but Kaz ran the whole gang now. 

Kaz Brekker was a gang leader with a mission, not a man who sat at home waiting for her. He wasn’t waiting for anyone, and she needed to remember that. She couldn’t be his reason if he didn’t need one.  She had once seen the human side that the rumors always left out. The side that would do anything to protect his friends, his found family. He would’ve protected them from whatever he thought to be threatening. But now he was blinded and power-hungry, and all she could do is sit back and take orders. Like a soldier. Like she was trained to do. It’s part of her job. 

~

 A light mist was rising off the water, and through it, Y/N saw Kaz and the others waiting near the pier. They all wore the nondescript clothes Kaz had foregone his immaculately cut suit in favor of a bulky wool coat. The thick sheaf of his dark hair was combed back, the sides trimmed short as always. He looked like a dockworker, or a boy setting sail on his first adventure. It was almost as if she were peering through a lens at some other, more pleasant reality.

Behind them, she saw the little schooner Kaz had commandeered, Ferolind written in bold script on its side. It would fly the purple Kerch fishes and the colorful flag of the Haanraadt Bay Company. To anyone in Fjerda or on the True Sea, they would simply look like a Kerch trappers heading north for skins furs. If she hadn’t been running late, they probably would have been abroad or even on their way out of the habor already.

She looked farther down the dock. In the dim glow of the harbor gaslights, she saw Dirix, one of the Dregs who’d been meant to make the journey with them. There was a knife in his abdomen, and his eyes were glassy.

“Kaz!” she shouted.

But it was too late. The schooner exploded, knocking Y/N off her feet and showering the docks in flame. 

Before Y/N had ever set foot on the battlefield, she was taught how to take a hit. Squallers and Tidemakers shoving her back into a large stack of hay, over and over and over again till she was able to get back on her feet without losing balance. Even as the blast from the habor lifted her off her feet, she was tucking into a roll. She hit hard, but she was up in seconds, pressed against the side of a crate, her ears ringing and her nose singed by the sharp scent of gunpowder. 

Y/N spared Kaz and the others a single glance, then she did as she was taught - she regrouped. She launched herself up the cargo crates, climbing them like a rock wall, her thick boots making it difficult but she managed.

The view from above was disturbing. The Dregs were outnumbered, and there were men working their way around their left and right flanks. Kaz has been right to keep their real point of departure a secret from the others. Someone had talked. Kaz had said it himself: Everything in Ketterdam leaked, including the Slat and the Crow Club.

Someone was firing down from the masts of the new Ferolind. Hopefully, that meant Jesper had made it to the schooner, and she just had to buy the others enough time to make it there as well.

~

The next corner was blind. Y/N had never wished more in her life to be a squaller. She was too far from the fire to control it and she was currently surrounded by the suffocating smoke. She had to get through four men to stand in a corner with no advantages, ‘fun’. 

She took a deep breath , sank low, and slipped around the corner. Tonight her Saints were kind- two men were firing on the docks with their backs to her. She slipped the knife Kaz had given her from her sheath. She lunged forward and quickly thrusted the blade between  one man’s ribs. The other turned and aimed his gun at her but she was quicker, better trained. She flicked her fingers and let a flame dance up his gun, the metal heating up enough to burn his hands making him drop it instantly. She then threw her knife at him, imbeding it in his abdomen. 

Six bodies, another six lives taken. 

She wiped her knife on her sleeve and returned it to the sheath at her waist, then backed up and took a running start at the nearest cargo container. As her fingers gripped the rim, she felt a piercing pain beneath her arm. She turned in time to see Oomen’s ugly face split in a determined grimace. All the intelligence Kaz had told her on the Black Tips came back to her in a sickening rush- Oomen, Geels’ shambling enforcer, the one who could crush skulls with his bare hands. 

He yanked her down and grabbed the front of her vest, giving the knife in her side a sharp twist. Y/N fought not to black out. 

As her hair fell out of her face, he exclaimed, “Ghenzen! I’ve got Brekker’s soldier.”

“You should have aimed… higher,” Y/N gasped. “Missed my heart.”

“Don’t want you dead, Ravkan,” he said. “You’re quite the prize. Can’t wait to hear all the gossip you’ve gathered for your king and Dirtyhands, and all his secrets, too. I love a good story.”

“I can tell you how this one ends,” she said on an unsteady breath. “But you’re not going to like it.” 

“That so?” He slammed her up against the crate, and pain crashed through her. Her toes only brushed the ground as blood spurted from the wound at her side. Oomen’s forearm was braced against her shoulders while the other hand held one of her hands up at the side of her head, keeping her arms pinned.

“Do you know the secret to fighting a phoenix?”

He laughed. “Talking nonsense, Ravkan? Don’t die too quickly. Need to get you patched up.”

She breathed deeply through her nose and crossed her ankles together, locking them in place. 

“The secret,” she panted, “is to never take your eyes off the phoenix’s claws.” She swung her head forward and crashed her forehead into his nose before quickly swinging her leg up and between his own legs. 

He shrieked and released her, hands going to his bleeding nose.

She staggered back down the row of crates. She could hear men shouting to each other, the pop of gunfire coming in smatters and bursts now. Who was winning? Had the others made it to the schooner? A wave of dizziness rolled over her. 

When she touched her fingers to the wound at her side, they came away wet. Too much blood. Footsteps. Someone was coming. She couldn’t run, not with this wound, not with the amount of blood she’d lost. 

The cargo containers were stacked like a pyramid here. If she could make it up to just one, she could hide herself on the first level. Just one. She could make herself climb or stand there and die.

She willed her mind to clarity and hopped up, fingertips latching on to the top of the crate. She dragged herself over the edge onto the tin roof of the container.

It felt so good to lie there, but she kenw she’d left a trail of blood behidn her. ‘One more’, she told herself. ‘One more and you’ll be safe.’ She forced herslef up to her knees and rached for the next crate.

The surface beneath her began to rock. She heard laughter from below. 

“Come out, come out, Phoenix!”

Desperately, she reached for the lip of the next crate again and gripped it, fighting through an onslaught of pain as the container  underher dropped away. Then she was just hanging, legs dangling helplessly down. They didn’t open fire; they wanted her alive.

“Come on down, Phoenix!” 

She didn’t know where the strength had come from but she managed to reach her other arm up and pull herself over the top. She lay on the crate’s roof, panting. 

‘Just one more.’ But she couldn’t. Couldn’t push to her knees, couldn’t reach, couldn’t even roll. It hurt too much. ‘Move,’ she told herself. ‘This is a stupid place to die.’ And yet a voice in her head told there were worse places. She would die here, in servitude to her country, beneath the beginnings of dawn. She’d die after a worthy fight, not because some man had tried to take more from her than she could give. Better to die trying to get everyone on the ship and out of the docks. 

A hand seized her ankle. They climbed the crates. Why hadn’t she heard them? Was she that far gone? They had her. Someone was turning her onto her back. 

She slid the knife from the sheath at her waist. In the Barrel, she’d learned a blade this sharp was known as kind steel. It meant a quick death. Better that than the tourture at the mercy of the other gangs that roamed these wretched streets. 

“May the Saints receive me,” her words came out in a shallow breath. She pressed the tip beneath her breast, between her ribs, an arrow to her heart. Then a hand gripped her wrist painfully, forcing her to drop the blade.

“Not just yet, Y/N.” The rasp of stone on stone. Her eyes flew open. Kaz.

[sprnklersplashes]

snowflakes, sunshine and chance encounters (2/4) ao3

fanfic fundraiser

As they get ready for dinner, Wylan almost feels optimistic about this trip.

His father doesn’t share his sentiment. 

“I would’ve thought you’d grown out of fairytales by now.” 

“It’s not really fairytales,” Wylan replies carefully. He does up his tie, the knot tight against his collar. “It’s faith isn’t it? The same faith you and I have in Ghezen, they have in Alina Starkhov.”

And he doesn’t know why he said it, perhaps the day has made him a little bit too bold, but the way his father jerks tells him all he needs to know.

“Ghezen couldn’t be more different from this girl,” he says. His voice is taunt, a violin string tightened one too many times. Darkness rolls in his eyes like thunderclouds, and Wylan stiffens. He looks Wylan up and down, lip curled. “Ghezen seeks out and rewards prosperity, ingenuity. That is why my family has the fortunes it does. Miss Starkhov is a peasant girl who can put on a light show.” He turns back to the mirror and fixes his jacket. In the glass, his eyes grow even colder. “Don’t be so blasphemous as to mistake her for Ghezen, or even close to him.”

“Perhaps Ghezen blessed her the way he blessed us,” Wylan suggests. “Perhaps he just does it differently.”

Silence descends on the room then, and Wylan can feel it. He’s taken the little luck he’s enjoyed and pushed it just too far. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t know when to stop.

His father turns. Wylan tries to breathe, but he can’t get anything in or out. In the absolute quiet, his father’s steps ricochet like gunfire, time with Wylan’s pounding heart. He stops just a fraction of an inch from him, so that even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to look away from him. 

“I’m not surprised that you fall for such fanciful tales, Wylan,” he says eventually. His hand presses on Wylan’s shoulder,not quite hard enough to bruise. He looks Wylan up and down, and gives a short sigh. “I am, however, deeply disappointed.”

With that, his father lets go, grabs his jacket and motions for Wylan to join him. As he does, Wylan can’t muster any anger or even resentment at him. Why would he? Wylan was the one who opened his mouth and ruined such a good day. 

It’s always your fault Wylan, isn’t it, a voice whispers, and Wylan isn’t sure if it's his father’s or his own. 

As they descend the sweeping staircase down to the ballroom, Wylan and his father bury what happened and present the united front they came with; the prosperous and brilliant head of the Van Eck fortune and his equally-brilliant son and heir. A unit, a team, partners carrying their shared legacy.

Wylan can only hope that he comes off as dignified as his father. 

He breathes out slowly as they enter the ballroom. It’s a much bigger room than where they met the General-maybe the biggest Wylan has ever been in-and it is completely, utterly swarmed. He tries to take stock of the room’s details-his most reliable trick-and it works until he realises just how many people are pressing around him. They roll around like waves, knock into him. So many sounds, so many people, that he’s left feeling quite ill.

Someone appears in front of them with glasses of champagne and despite the unease in his stomach, he takes it, smiles politely, takes a sip all in the same breath. Come on, Wylan. You know how to do this. 

He tries to cast his mind back, to remember conversing with those East Ravkan delegates. Ghezen, it feels like a lifetime ago. What had they called him? Articulate, accomplished, witty. If he could just remember what he did then, he can replicate it now, once the buzzing in his head stops and whoever is banging that door stops. 

Breathe, he reminds himself. He blinks and then he sees his father, engrossed in conversation with some other Kerch delegates. He isn’t technically looking at him but he is in the way that matters. Even with his eyes elsewhere, his gaze remains firmly on him.

With a steady inhale, Wylan straightens his shoulders. Showtime. 

In one fluid step, Wylan slides into the gap beside his father, careful to remain a half-step behind him. Confident but not imposing. 

“Ah, Van Eck the younger,” one delegate says as he approaches. “Come, we would love to hear your thoughts on this matter.”

���Now, Drysen,” his father chides. “Don’t bore the boy with politics. Not when there are so many beautiful girls here to take his fancy.”

The circle of merchants chuckle, Wylan laughs along with them, as much as he can when his chest is this tight.

“So eager to put him on the marriage market already Jan?” Drysen teases. Wylan stiffens, a split-second glance at his father. “Now, Wylan, we have all noticed that a certain West Ravkan general remains conspicuously absent.”

“Indeed?” Wylan agrees. He takes another sip. 

“It appears so,” he says. He leans forward then, eyebrows raised. The circle of men becomes tighter. Wylan fights the urge to step backwards. “Of course, this would fuel the rumours of the West’s succession, would it not?”

“It would.” He drops his shoulders. He’s studied West Ravkan politics, even listened outside the door as Councilmen debated it. This is something he can do. “The question is though, would West Ravka have the power to sustain its economy without the monarchy?”

“That rather depends on us, doesn’t it?” another merchant adds. “The Merchant Council has been debating where our support should lie. Of course, the Fold has been a nuisance when it comes to trade. Many ports are becoming far more hassle than they’re worth.” He glances cooly around the room, lip curled. Wylan recognises that contempt; he’s seen it on his father’s face almost every day. “Were it not for the Sun Summoner, we would be on our way to cutting ties with East Ravka entirely. And now, it seems to be the other way around.”

“What would happen to the West then?” he asks. “Last I heard, Kerch remained West Ravka’s most important trading partner. Severing our ties with them would leave them helpless, both economically and militarily. Not to mention  losing the aid we are providing.” He hears the words tumble haphazardly out of his mouth, cringed at how his inexperience is laced into each syllable. He takes another hurried sip of his wine. “I-I only mean to say I was under the impression that we were behind Ravkan reunification, it being in the best interest of the Ravkan people. Surely an end to the civil war must be the priority for all.”

“I thought you said the boy has no interest in politics, Jan,” one says with a nod. “It seems to me he knows his stuff.”

“Indeed,” his father grimaces. “His tutors have praised his dedication to learning the history, although he is often led by his heart. Prefers to focus on the emotional side, rather than practical matters.”

Wylan’s gut twists. The hand around the glass tightens. Sweat trickles down his back, a thin, slow stream.

“That isn’t to say the West won’t still be useful,” one delegate says in a low voice. “Indeed, a split from the Lantsovs would give Kerch the chance to strengthen our trade agreements with them.”

“And with it, your influence,” Wylan mumbles. Cold sweat breaks out on his back. The delegate grins and toasts him as if he’s said something clever. Wylan can’t feel pride for it though.

“Up until now, we thought both sides were for reunification, and we had no choice but to follow this. West Ravka’s succession had opened significant new opportunities and we were ready and willing to support them. Until the Sun Summoner made her appearance. Then she may be quite the investment.”

“She’s a person.” The words shoot out like bullets, scorched trails in their wakes. “And if you say you mean to invest in furthering the Ravkan civil war playing only on the winning side-”

“Wylan.” He feels a sharp pinch against his spine, there and gone like a lightning flash. His father closes in on him, somehow pressing in without even touching him. There’s a smile on his face, but when Wylan meets his gaze, the glass almost falls through his fingers. The spot in his spine burns. “Forgive me, gentlemen. Seems those debate lessons are finally paying off.”

The men chuckle, a stiff and halting chorus that digs beneath Wylan’s skin. While the rest chatter, his father’s hand closes around his upper arm. Wylan is pulled backwards a half-step and his father’s face flashes in his periphery. Blue eyes narrow, grey hair flashing like steel. 

“You’ve embarrassed us enough for one night,” he whispers. “Take a turn about the room and for all our sakes’, don’t talk to anyone.”

He manages a minute nod, then his father lets him go. 

Though his father would shake his head at him for it, he thinks that the fact he doesn’t collapse there and then has to be a miracle. 

After half a turn around the room, he decides enough is enough.

To hell with the Sun Summoner and the Palace and every damned thing- if he stays here one minute longer he will explode. He melts into the crowd with ease and weaves in and out of guests, half-formed conversations come and go. He dodges round another clump of people, suppressing a shudder as he does so. There’s just so many people, all around, all the time. He stumbles through the double doors with barely a glance backward and finds himself in front of two servants, gawking at him with wide eyes. They don’t say anything. They don’t need to; Wylan can hear it clear enough.

Weird. Strange. Freak. Isn’t that the Van Eck heir? Why is he looking at us like that?

They're all thinking it, no doubt. He feels it in his thumping heart, in the prickle at the back of his eyes. They’re all laughing behind their champagne flutes, and that thought pushes Wylan across the hall and through the main doors. Even when a gust of night air rushes to his face, he doesn’t stop, he keeps tearing across the courtyard where the fete had been. He trips up on stones and tumbles over grass, his chest growing tighter with each slip. He is aware, vaguely, that if he keeps going his heart may burst and maybe that’s why he’s doing it.

With huge, heaving breaths, Wylan pushes open a wooden door and throws himself through it, letting it creak closed behind him. The last of Wylan’s strength leaves him and he sinks down onto the ground. It’s coarse beneath his legs, something rough presses against his back. He tilts his head back, takes deep breath after deep breath. The air is musty and warm, an unplaceable scent lingers there, but he keeps on breathing. His fingers find something in his pocket, soft and silken. It’s the emblem of the Sun Summoner, the one from the fete this morning. Tentatively, Wylan rubs it against his face, soft fabric caressing his skin. 

When he was younger, he used to bury himself in his mother’s skirts when he became too overwhelmed. The memory comes to him unbidden, as sudden as a slamming door. His father had tutted and rolled his eyes in those moments, but his mother just stroked his hair until he felt himself again.

Wylan leans into it now. With slow deep breaths, he lets the heat in his chest dissipate, until all that’s left is dried tear tracks on his cheeks. He breathes in the musty smell, leans his head against the rough wood behind him.

He’s really done it this time.

He’s been given warnings before, dark glares and concealed pinches on the back of his hand. Sit down, shut up before you embarrass me. And every time he’s taken it but no, not anymore. 

The worst part is; he doesn’t regret it. Oh, his father will beat him black and blue and he is terrified. But he’s not ashamed of what he said. Someone needed to tell the Council no, even if they’ll brush him off moments later. And apparently, that someone was him.

“Are you all right?” 

Wylan jumps, shock reverberating through his body. His head snaps to the side, cheeks already flooded crimson as he braces himself to be made to leave. 

As he stands, he doesn’t see a palace guard or, Ghezen forbid, his father. It takes a moment to register, but then he recognises the windswept curls and tall frame. By some miracle, it’s the boy from the fete earlier, now clad in a red velvet jacket giving his status as a footman.

Something about it doesn’t sit quite right with Wylan, but he doesn’t ponder on it. Primarily because he can’t seem to focus on anything.

Slowly, the boy steps toward him. Where his eyes had been twinkling earlier, they now crease with concern. 

“Are you okay?” he asks again. Wylan nods.

“F-fine,” he mumbles. He straightens up, hides the fabric in his hands. “Thank you.”

“It’s all right,” he says, and then he smiles. “Party not up to much then?” Wylan huffs, runs his hand through his hair. Etiquette says he should say no and make a polite exit but… he’s been holding the mask up for two days. He’s tired. 

“If I’m honest it’s a bit too much,” he mumbles. He waits, expects the boy to frown or sneer at him, but he doesn’t. He smiles, and it’s like a first cup of tea on a rainy evening. 

“So you snuck away to the stables.”

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me here,” he asks. “Please. If-if my father knew I ran here he would-”

“You don’t need to worry,” he tells him. There’s a kind of confidence to his words that almost puts Wylan at ease. As though he could simply say his father won’t hate him and make it so. 

“It was Jesper, wasn’t it?” he asks. Jesper nods, accompanied by a small bow that makes him chuckle. Wylan gestures to his clothes. “Are you with one of the delegates?”

“Novyi Zem,” he replies. “Though calling me a delegate is generous; I’m just here to fetch the ambassador’s horses.” 

Wylan feels foolish; the dark skin and impressive height should’ve been a giveaway. He’d met the Zemeni ambassador briefly on this trip, and once before on a state visit to the capital. He remembers the endless blue skies, golden fields that stretched on for miles. Were it not for his father, he would have sat in those fields for the entire trip and he would’ve been more than content. When they returned, it had been raining, and the grey cobblestones had never felt so lifeless.

“Novyi Zem?” he echoes. He turns the fabric over in his head, his heart fluttering like a butterfly’s wings. “Do you like it there?”

Jesper leans against one of the horse’s pens, wringing his gloves in his hands. His pose is nonchalant, but then Wylan sees the melancholy in his eyes, so profound that it almost ages him. Despite this though, there’s a small smile on his face, the kind that denotes a fond memory from a time long past.

“Sort of,” he replies. Now it’s Wylan who steps forward, pulled over by some unseen force. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous, but he feels something between them. Those words, ‘sort of’-he could find his own experience there.

“Sort of?” he echoes. Jesper blinks, snapping out of wherever he’d taken himself. The sadness is gone, thrown away like a rushed first draft.

“It has its pros and cons,” he says dismissively. Wylan doesn’t believe it, but for now the itch remains unscratched. Especially when Jesper narrows his dark eyes. He moves in one smooth motion and steps into Wylan’s orbit. At this distance, Wylan can make out the laughlines around his eyes, the delicate curls in his hair, the frankly exquisite curve of his lips. It’s not some boyish fantasy; he’s studied mathmatics enough to know a perfect curve when he sees one. But then his hand jerks, powered by a deep, wild urge to trace the outline of Jesper’s cheekbones, and he is forced to confront the reality. Jesper’s lips part just slightly, restless fingers dance at his side. “But the more I travel… the more I learn that where you are isn’t nearly as important as who you’re with.

Wylan bursts out laughing. 

“How many times has that line worked for you?” 

“It’s not a line!”

“Mm, of course it isn’t.” He slides into an empty pen, rests his chin on the fence. Ghezen knows where this new boldness has come from but for once, no-one is telling him to stop. Not his father, not even himself. So, he leans forward, raises his eyebrows. “I almost believe that wasn’t rehearsed.”

“You think I practise my lines in the mirror?” he teases. “Just in case I run into pretty delegates in need of rescuing?”

“So this is a rescue then?” he laughs. “Are you going to spirit me away from here and off to a life of freedom and love in Novyi Zem with you?” He laughs again, but it feels different this time. This time, the only joke he’s laughing at is his own. 

How many times has he fallen into daydreams just like that? Where a tall dark stranger takes his hand and whisks him away from his father’s house? 

With a shake of his head, Jesper strides over to the fence and stands on the other side. This close, Wylan can see the freckles that dance across his brown skin. Without looking away from Wylan, Jesper’s hands come up and slide over his. Usually Wylan would flinch at such contact, but now he’s so still he wonders if he’s still alive. Jesper’s hands are warm and calloused, his fingers refuse to sit still. They slot into the grooves between Wylan’s knuckles. 

“I know it’s hardly my place to ask,” he begins. “But… is everything okay?”

Wylan opens his mouth, then closes it. The answers flounders and struggles because no, everything is not okay. He’s travelled across the sea to witness history, only to hide in a stable. The Merchant Council plan to prolong the civil war until the Lantsov’s coffers are bled dry. He just embarrassed himself and his father in front of the Kerch delegation and when they get home, Wylan will have hell to pay. The only reason he isn’t on the floor screaming right now is because Jesper is rounding the corner to his side of the fence, his hand on top of his.

“Hey?” he says softly. He rubs his thumb against Wylan’s hand, looks at him through a tangle of black curls. And Wylan just sighs. His pulse is drumming, pounding against his wrist, as if it’s trying to escape him. 

“Oh to hell with it,” he murmurs.

He grabs Jesper by the collar and kisses him. 

After a startled squeak, Jesper kisses him back, his lips hot and so, so willing.  Jesper gasps. Then he pulls at his collar, and Wylan is gone.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

There are no words for how obsessed I am right now with this fic

Summary:

Wylan Van Eck is the veritable prince of Kerch - an influencer famous thanks to his father's wealth and political status, beloved by many, derided by some, and truly known by very few. Behind closed doors, everything he does is designed to make himself an asset to the Van Eck empire, to make himself something his father might not want but definitely needs to keep around.

Jesper is an up-and-coming actor, not making a splash but well on his way to making ripples, but most of the fortune he should be making is going towards paying off an astronomical amount of gambling debt. After Jan Van Eck makes some questionable comments that are thrown about in the press, his PR team devise a wildly problematic ploy that might just be the answer to Jesper's problems. Six dates over six months, with the boy Jesper grew up seeing lit up on his phone screen. What could go wrong?

[afrotumble]

In February 1837, in Kerch, Crimea, after years of exhaustive excavation efforts to discover an entrance into the massive earthen mound, archaeologist Anton Ashik and his tired team of explorers finally unveil the concealed entrance to one of the most remarkable megalithic marvels ever found between Europe and Asia – now famously known as the Royal Kurgan.

The photograph is credited to lenochka_nox.

[luckylolabug]

Hiii Bugs (first-ever ask from me to you—it’s a big deal)!! Curious about these two for this ask game: 🍄🍦

Thank you and I hope you’re having a good one :D

Hellooooooooooooo! It is a big deal!!! 🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings Not sure which fandoms to pick for these so here's 3 of them that I know we share in common. L&C - Locklyle (duh): Lockwood always closes his eyes last right before kissing Lucy just so he can look at her longer. ATLA - Kataang (sorry people): Aang regularly hits up the past Avatars for relationship advice whenever he's feeling insecure or they're fighting about something. (For a more positive one, Katara jokingly calls Aang 'Kuzon' every time they have to go to the Fire Nation for anything) SOC - Kanej: Without even really ever solidifying an actual codebook or anything, I like the idea that Kaz and Inej communicate in innocuous letters whenever shes at sea, but everything is in a code that only they know. 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate Hooo oh boy okay. L&C - Rupert Gale: 1. Snazzy dresser 2. A decent punching bag for George insults 3. Unintentionally did sort of shove the team to get better at their jobs secretly ATLA - Jet (oops sorry again): 1. I do like the idea of the moral ambiguity involved with the whole 'sacrifices have to be made to win the war' thing that he presents 2. The Freedom Fighters as a whole are a very fun concept 3. It gave us one of the best scenes. (WHAT ARE YOU DOING FIREBENDING YOUR TEA) SOC - Kuwei: 1. I dont really HATE him as a character, I just am sad he doesnt do much because the POTENTIAL is really good!!!! 2. Did sort of push the Wesper thing unintentionally in the right direction. 3. Pretending not to speak Kerch around the crows is kind of a serve

[lothlorienlover]

In February 1837, in Kerch, Crimea, after years of exhaustive excavation efforts to discover an entrance into the massive earthen mound, archaeologist Anton Ashik and his tired team of explorers finally unveil the concealed entrance to one of the most remarkable megalithic marvels ever found between Europe and Asia – now famously known as the Royal Kurgan.

[aphroditestummyrolls]

i mean i will literally never say no to more bhad excerpts 👀👀👀

My FRIEND ✨ here’s some more Kaz POV, because as usual, he’s the hardest one.

Every bit of manpower he had suddenly found itself rerouted and reinvigorated. Even the least trustworthy, most bottom-of-the-literal-barrel dregs had been assigned and given enough of an explanation to do what Kaz needed. Well, even if some of the reasons were technically lies— they had their orders.

He had them all searching in teams, radiating out from the workshop and through The Barrel. Some had even been sent up into The Lid and the University District.

They had instructions to keep a low profile.

They had decoy jobs to lead off any outsiders who might ask about what had Dirtyhands so riled up.

They had weapons, and strict instructions not to use them unless absolutely necessary.

He’d sent all his spiders, as well. They were off to scurry into the hedgerows of the Geldstraat estates, and onto the fire escapes of the Zelver District accountants and property managers.

Into the territory of the King of Ketterdam, he chewed his lip.

The spiders especially, didn’t know the true nature of their assignments. They were good, but not a single one of them was Inej— he couldn’t give them the details. There was no one in the club that he would willingly tell all of it to.

After all, it was only a hunch.

It still wasn’t the most likely scenario. He was hedging his bets safely for now, in the vicinity of Jesper’s many jilted creditors. There was no real reason to think that it could be…

He thought again— and again, and again— about the letter he had handed to Wylan just two evenings ago. About the way the colour had drained from his cheek and his eyes had become wide. Trapped, Kaz had thought. He thought that he’d trapped his little prince, caught him in a lie. But, the longer he spent with his eyes glued to Wylan’s map of Ketterdam, the more he likened his face to a cornered animal. To something feeble and afraid, waiting for a beast to pounce, looking one last time for an open path to run.

He looked afraid, yes. Kaz was used to that. But, Wylan hadn’t looked nearly as afraid of him as he had that letter.

Privately, Kaz entertained the thought— maybe Jan Van Eck was also searching for his son. Perhaps, he meant to bring him home. But then, why take Jes? And why not take Wylan back when he was still at The Tannery? Not to mention, the violent nature of the snatching didn’t line up. After all, he was his son. Van Eck’s only son and heir— he wouldn’t risk it, would he? Kaz wouldn’t, if he were Van Eck.

There was also the possibility of someone who hated Van Eck? Maybe somebody on the council or in the press stealing the King’s wayward son as some kind of leverage or blackmail? It would be a coup, stealing both the heir to the biggest fortune in Kerch and his Barrel Boyfriend. It would scandalise the whole Geldstraat.

What if this had nothing to do with Jesper at all? And everything to do with their runaway?

It was just a hunch. But still, he fiddled with it, like a loose thread.

It should be a job for Inej.

Thanks for playing! (Click the link to play my WIP game!)

[sankttealeaf]

blessed are the merciful (for they shall obtain mercy)

it's here, cowboys! my fic for @grishaversebigbang 2023!

Materialki (artists):

@mitraavrs [art]

@maxe-murderer [art]

@polekands [art]

@beani-ed [art]

Corporalki (beta):

@gimmedafood

Summary: The law is hot on the coattails of the Dregs, an infamous gang cruising through the countryside of Kerch. With each heist and robbery lining their pockets with more than enough money, Kaz Brekker has his eyes set on one place in particular - The Exchange. Taking down the hub of trade would cement his gang’s place in the city and history, as well as causing a lot of chaos to the merchants that trade there. But Kaz has underestimated how much manpower he will need for this feat - so he calls upon other outlaws in society to help him pull it off.

Or: A western/cowboy AU featuring the Crows as various outlaws, all teaming up to tear down the new world that is forming around them (and to make a lot of money in the process).

READ ON AO3!

chapters will be out pretty regularly over there!

CHAPTER ONE: LAYING LOW IN PLAIN SIGHT

It amused Kaz at how out in the open they were.

When hiding from the law one usually would lay low, stuffed away in the darkest corner of the earth, but Kaz found that approach boring - it simply wasn’t his style. The Dregs were situated a short walk from Ketterdam, up on an overlook that gave him a perfect view of the road leading in and out of the city. Plumes of smoke rose up into the sky and the gentle chatter of the other gang members carried on the wind and Kaz was honestly surprised at how they had yet to be caught by the law. If Inej were here, she would tell him not to tempt fate. Fate was a fool’s wish - he believed in himself and his crew, not some higher force driving him through each heist and scheme. 

Which brought him back to his original train of thought. Scattered across a large table in the middle of his tent were various maps and writings on guard rotations. Marked in the centre was his next target: the Exchange. He had been eyeing up the place ever since he was a boy, wondering what it would be like to claim the place as his own and pocket a portion of the money that gets passed around there; and now he was planning on fulfilling that dream. The plan was vague in his mind, a mess of ideas and what he would need to pull it off. One thought kept occurring - he needed more hands. The Dregs had their own talents and he had utilised all of them at some point in the long history of this gang, yet he couldn’t trust anyone but himself to get others involved in this. Jesper and Inej were to be included, there was no doubt about that. He wanted a few others…

A clash of pots falling and a cacophony of yells in jest made him audibly sigh. Could they not even get through dinner without something going wrong? Kaz held his head in his hands, eyes darting over the map and forcing out the rising sounds of complaints coming from those cooking. The streets were riddled with guards, they would need to be exterminated somehow. What he really needed was a full list of the guards rotations, that way he can make use of any periods of time where roads weren’t being watched. Inej could probably get that information for him, but if she was caught… No. He couldn’t risk losing Inej before the plan had even started. Jesper would make too much noise and if things started looking sour Kaz knew he would gladly shoot now and ask questions later. Connections. Insider knowledge. That’s what he needed. No one in the Dregs had any useful knowledge about the Exchange or even the Merchant Council unless he started asking someone to dig around. Digging around was too risky.

This wasn’t a routine train or carriage heist for goods and money. This was the Exchange. Masks on and guns out wouldn't cut it. Everything needed to be planned right down to the last second or else the law would be hot on their tails, again. He had survived this long without being caught for his long list of crimes, and he wasn’t about to swing for them now.

“Who let Muzzen cook tonight?” Jesper was heard before Kaz could see him. Voices overlapped one another, some in complaint and some in defence of Muzzen’s cooking but ultimately they fell on deaf ears as Kaz saw Jesper approach his tent, a grin on his face. “Picture this - I’m sitting in a bar, two shots of whiskey down and I overhear some loud-mouthed guy rambling on about how much money he’s made this past week. He’s blowing it all on booze and drinks are on him.” He took a seat opposite Kaz, kicking his feet up on the table and narrowly missing anything important. He rummaged through his jacket pocket for a moment and dumped a handful of cash on top of Kaz’s notes. “So I robbed him of it all.”

Kaz counted at least twenty kruge, and gave Jesper a nod. “And is that for your own personal bank or are you finally contributing to camp?”

Jesper feigned shock. “Hey, I got that lead last week! The one about the boat-”

“Which turned out to be two hours late. Pim spent the night in a cell and I recall you injured your ankle so badly you couldn’t walk for a few days.” Kaz had no malice in his voice as he spoke, there had been worse heists that took place, everyone knew that. The boat plan was a simple misunderstanding, but it was amusing to push Jesper’s buttons about it.

Jesper kicked his feet off the table and began counting out his share of the money he had rightfully earned, pushing the rest to Kaz with an overly dramatic pout. “I didn't know the boat was going to be late. You can’t blame me for that.”

“Resources were put to waste and the horses got tired riding away from the law. I’m not blaming you, just reminding you of what happened,” Kaz replied with a shrug, taking the bills from the table and checking to see how much was left. Fifteen kruge. That would go towards food supplies - he recalled Anika mentioning how they were running low on good quality food and people were starting to complain. He'd send her down into the city tomorrow to restock. 

“It sounds like you’re blaming me. Where’s Inej? She’ll have my back.” He looked past Kaz to see if she was lurking in the shadows. She wasn’t, Kaz would’ve felt her presence already.

“Inej is out following a lead she found. She should be back soon.” Not that Kaz was waiting for her or keeping track of the time. Inej was her own person, part of his gang. He knew she could handle herself if she happened to be out later than anticipated.

“Speaking of leads…” Jesper leaned closer to him to keep prying ears out. “I may have something.” 

“Oh?” 

“Something good.” There was a glimmer in his eye as he spoke, a sparkle Kaz had learned to mean that this was information Jesper was not supposed to know. 

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “You said the boat was good.”

He frowned in response, arms folded over his chest. "Maybe I won't tell you about this, then."

Kaz knew that was a lie. In all his years of knowing Jesper he knew how much the other enjoyed telling him about leads he'd picked up or gossip he had heard. As much as Kaz pretended to be disinterested in the rumours and scandals of those he didn't know, the way Jesper crafted the stories was intriguing. He shrugged. "I'll find out eventually. I always do."

"Fine. I'll tell you." He took out a small scrap of paper that had been marked with a hastily drawn out map. "Heard that there's some precious cargo passin' by the main highway leading to Belendt tomorrow."

"By train?" Kaz took the map from Jesper, adding it to his larger collection of notes on the table to see if it lined up with anything he had collected before. It didn't. No one else had heard of anything travelling down to Belendt, which meant this lead was either a trap or it was top secret. 

"By stagecoach. Which is weird considering if it's important, going by train is safer." Jesper leaned back in the chair. "Said it would be passing through there around midday. Heavily guarded, too."

"Something's not right about that," Kaz replied, setting the note down. "Why transport something by stagecoach if it needs to be guarded by many people? Why waste the manpower when you can get there quicker by train? And why Belendt? Did you hear who was involved?"

Jesper shook his head. "Just that it was important to keep it on the down low. Didn't do too good of a job if I heard it, though."

Kaz was drawn into this mysterious cargo, there was no doubt about it. Whatever was being transported was important to somebody and that meant it had value. They could use another big payout, especially after how high the morale got after the last heist.

"Best stock up on ammo," Kaz said, sticking a pin into the map. The road wasn't too far of a journey out from camp - he was certain he, Jesper and Inej could travel out there by midday, see what it was all about and come back richer. Jesper grinned at the confirmation that they were going to explore this lead, giving him a mock salute as he stood up.

A choir of cawing sung overhead as Kaz felt another presence approach the tent. He knew of the rumours that his Wraith had the crows working for her and the timing of the crows only fuelled the tales, but they were just stories. Everyone with a criminal past had some scary story that followed him - Dirtyhands lingered behind him in dark alleys and everyone knew that. Kaz kept his gaze down at the map as he caught her walking in from the corner of his eye.

"Five times he stopped outside the Kaelish Prince. You were right, Kaz - something's up." Inej appeared behind Jesper, causing him to flinch and curse loudly. 

"Where did you come from?" he asked, a hand over his chest in shock. 

She stood next to him, shrugging in response. "Outside. Where else?" Inej took a moment to look over the maps and notes, pointing out where the Kaelish Prince was located in Ketterdam. “I followed him along the main street and he kept stopping off there at every half bell.”

“Who are you following?” Jesper asked, leaning over Inej’s shoulder to get a better look at what she was doing. Kaz gave him a look, and considered keeping this lead to him and Inej. He knew that if the plan went well he would need to bring Jesper on board, perhaps it was easier to let him in now. Jesper waited patiently for any follow up, and Kaz gave a small sigh.

“I want to know who’s in the pocket of Pekka Rollins,” he began, leaning against the table and pointing out a few places. “I want to know who’s loyal to him and who’s being threatened by him.”

“And you’re doing this for fun, or…?” Jesper rested his hands on his gun belt, giving Inej a look. Kaz knew that his vengeance towards Rollins had been kept secret from them for the longest time, so it made sense for Jesper to question why he was suddenly going after him. 

“I’m doing it because Rollins needs to be brought down a few pegs.” A half truth, Kaz had no intention of telling them his entire life story right now. There wasn’t time and he heard Muzzen call that dinner was ready. He began to tidy up the table, hiding away any important notes and plans to keep any prying eyes from seeing what they were up to. 

“We have a few other plans in the works, Jesper heard of something travelling down to Belendt tomorrow,” Kaz explained, and Jesper took this time to catch Inej up to speed on the lead he found. 

“I want to go back to the city to see if any of my other connections have anything,” Inej said once Jesper had finished hyping himself up. “They may have heard something pass through the cracks.”

“Good. Anything you can find out will be useful. I want to know how many guards are protecting this, and what it is they are transporting. Something about it doesn’t make sense,” Kaz replied, following the road from Ketterdam to Belendt and making note of where they could stake out the road. He had yet to dismiss them both, Jesper and Inej stood across from him and waited for the closure of the conversation. With the lead on Rollins and the strange cargo that was passing by tomorrow it only felt right for Kaz to let them in on his next plan. It was still in the early stages, he had yet to scout out the areas and get intel on guard rotations and what is stored there, but now felt like the best time.

“My next plan is to take down the Exchange.” He had no need to coat it in flowery language, it was easier to keep it simple and tell it how it is. 

"You want to hit the Exchange?" Jesper and Inej spoke at the same time, eyes widening at Kaz's reveal of the plan he had been brewing over for the past few days. It was unexpected, the both of them hoping that the target would be smaller, maybe another train or perhaps a boat. But the centre hub of all trade in Ketterdam?

"It's a death sentence, Kaz. Surely you know that?" Inej tried to scan Kaz's face for a hint of emotion, but there was nothing. Just the face she had grown used to, the one that told her he was not backing away from this plan.

"We’ll have several distractions taking place at the same time to drive the law out from there." Kaz pointed to several marked locations on the map all in close range to the target area, but far enough away that it would take someone a good few minutes to walk between them. "With enough chaos, we can get in and out before the law even notices."

"You're relying on chaos?" Inej questioned, eyes darting over the marked locations and mentally walking the rooftops of the streets. It worked, in theory.

"I'm relying on getting more hands involved. The three of us aren't enough.” Kaz looked past them both at the rest of the Dregs. They were lacking in a few areas, he had known that for a while. "Keep an eye out."

It was a risky plan, but everything he had been building was leading to this. All the narrow escapes, all the hiding out in awful places for months away from the law, all the bad food the camp made - it would all be worth it. 

He made a promise to his family that he would see to it that Rollins would crumble, and Saints be damned, he was going to bury him alive.

[workersolidarity]

🇷🇺🇺🇦 UPDATE ON THE RUSSO-UKRAINIAN WAR: DAY 619

Ukrainian Forces launched a large, combined missile strike on Kerch and Berdyansk.

• Four SU-24M Bombers from Dnipropetrovsk and Zaporizhzhia launched a combined 8 Storm-shadow and SCALP missiles targeting Crimea

• At the same time, in an effort to overwhelm air defenses of the Russian Federation, MiG-29s and SU-27 bombers belonging to the Ukrainian Armed Forces fired HARM anti-radar missiles along with AGM-160 MALD decoys

• After which, two MiG-31BM fighter jets took off to intercept from Balbek, however the Ukrainian Armed Forces launched a diversionary strike targeting Cape Tarkhankut using a Neptune anti-ship missile which was intercepted by one of the MiGs.

• At the same time, 8 Storm-shadow cruise missiles were launched by Ukrainian Forces in Dneprorudnoye and Polohy towards the Sea of Azov where an S-400 air defense system and a Pantsir-S1 intercepted.

• Soon after, 3 more Storm-shadows were launched and successfully intercepted over Berdyansk.

No casualties were reported as a result of this massive attempted missile strike. None of the missiles reached their targets.

Russian Forces, who for their part seemed aware of the strikes before they came, launched their own retaliation strike on the airfield (it is unclear if Russian Forces struck while Ukrainian assets were in the air or if the strike came after the Ukrainian operation) in Dnipro using 10 missiles including Iscandar and Tornado-S missiles, the exact composition of the strike is unclear or if Geran-2 drones were involved as well. Secondary detonations were reported after the strikes on the airfield.

In the Kherson direction:

In the village of Krynky, Russian Forces were heavily bombing Ukrainian positions as they attempt to dig in deeper on their strongest foothold in this area.

According to the Russian Ministry of Defense [MoD] the Armed Forces of Ukraine lost 60 personnel in this area, along with 6 armored vehicles and 1 artillery system. According to the Russian MoD, Ukrainian Forces launched an offensive operation from their foothold in Krynky, though attack was repelled. This comes after yesterday's ambush of a Russian recognizance unit exiting the village, destroying the unit. Ukrainian Forces now have control over the entirety of the central part of the village with forward positions in the forest line south of Krynky.

To the west of Krynky, Russian Forces were heavily bombing and shelling Ukrainian accumulations of manpower and equipment in Kozatske, Baryslav, and Novobaryslav, with video evidence showing massive explosions as a result of strikes on these villages. At least four large missile strikes were recorded on this territory.

In Tendra Spit, Ukrainian Forces effectively used a Bayraktar TB-2 drone to aim HIMARS missiles at Russian Forces in this area, landing successful strikes on Russian positions.

In the Zaporizhzhia direction:

As a result of a Russian Iscandar missile strike on the accumulation of high ranking Ukrainian officers and commanders as part of the 128th Mountain Assault Brigade in the village of Zerichne, a large number of those high ranking officers were killed. According to reports from Russian Forces, the officers' cell phones gave away their positions which then targeted by Russian Forces.

In Robotyne, Russian Forces as part of the unit BOBP were using FPV drones to target Ukrainian positions in the central/eastern part of the village, as well as the southern area of Robotyne, while a separate unit from the Verbove area struck Ukrainian forward positions west of the village also using FPV and Lancet drones.

The initial FPV drone strikes by Russian Forces in Robotyne resulted in the Ukrainian Forces in this area sending an evacuation team to transport injured soldiers north out of the village to be treated.However, Russian Forces were aware of the evacuation attempt and while Ukrainian Forces were evacuating in an armored personnel carrier, the carrier was targeted in a series of strikes, destroying the armor and manpower both.

In the Urazhainoye area:

Russian Forces continued broadening their zone of control and pushing east towards Staromaiorske from their salient west of the village, capturing more territory in their operations to cut through the fields and assault the road between Rivnopil to the northwest and Staromaiorske, part of an effort to regain control over territories lost in the Great Ukrainian Counteroffensive of 2023.

Ever since offensive operations by the Ukrainian Armed Forces in this area have ceased, the Marine assault brigades that had been stationed throughout the territory here have since been moved towards the Kherson direction where they win to take advantage of the footholds in that region.

In the Avdiivka direction:

Russian Forces continue heavily bombing and shelling Ukrainian fortified positions throughout the city and on its northern and southern flanks as well using a wide variety of munitions. KA-52 Attack Helicopters were launching rockets towards Avdiivka with seeming impunity as Ukrainian air defenses seem non-existent in this region.

Meanwhile Ukrainian Forces published more videos illustrating their numerical strength and fortified positions in Avdiivka, confident in their ability to defend the city from outright assault.

West of Kransohorivka, Ukrainian Forces were using FPV Drones to destroy Russian de-mining equipment and armor in this area, successfully striking at least three Russian armored vehicles to the west and southwest of the village. While the loss will make Russian offensive operations in this area more difficult, it is unlikely to slow their advance as their logistical supply chains are far more fluid than Ukrainian ones for obvious reasons.

In the Kupiansk direction:

According to the Ministry of Defense of the Russian Federation, Ukrainian Forces lost 210 soldiers in the Kupiansk direction and another 100 in the Lyman area.

Russian Forces also said they've destroyed all the bridges crossing the Oskol River in this area, severely weakening Ukrainian logistics in the northern territory.

In Western Ukraine:

More information was released on the powerful strike Russian Forces launched yesterday on the Ukrainian Forces training center to the northwest of Lviv. According to video evidence, the destruction of the training center was complete, with zero evidence that any structures survived the attack.

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[eddieisashifter]

𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐃𝐑 ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇴​​🇼​​🇸​

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐍𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐒

KETTERDAM'S FINEST, the crows are a group from ketterdam's barrel, the part of the city overrun with gangs and turf wars. Led by kaz brekker, the crows are a team in the dregs. They're air-tight and trust each other with their lives. And, for most of them, with more than that.

______________________________________________________________

EDDIE CROWLEY — SHADOW OF KETTERDAM

born in ravka, eddie came to ketterdam as a young teen where he soon put his skills as a shadow summoner to use as a freelance assassin before getting roped in with kaz and the crows. now, eddie remains just as deadly as before, but with a newly acquired weak spot. or several. he isn't sure how the crows managed to each worm their ways into his heart, but he'd be lying if he said he was complaining about it.

KAZ BREKKER — DIRTYHANDS

kaz brekker, kerch native, forever changed after the death of his brother at the hands of pekka rollins, rival crime boss. now, kaz has gained the nickname 'dirtyhands' for his willingness to do whatever if the cost is worth it.

however, kaz finds himself weak and weak alone for his two shadows—inej ghafa and eddie crowley. though, getting an admission of weakness or care out of kaz is like pulling teeth. yet, he shows his care though his actions above all else.

EDDIE & KAZ — (rivals to lovers) the two started out their relationship rockily. eddie kept interfering with kaz's jobs—unintentionally but still. and once eddie realized the annoyance he made the stoic crime boss feel, he pushed his limits. eventually, kaz realized eddie's power and chaotic nature were better served working with him rather than against and recruited the grisha to the dregs. through eddie working for kaz, the two began to spend more time together. kaz began to develop a secret fondness for the sarcastic grisha, and eddie began to look out for the dreg leader outside of assignments. eventually, eddie got the nickname of "brekker's blade", though he can't say he minds all that much. he knows that belong to kaz means you're always taken care of, always loved even if not expressed in words—and eddie certainly has been both of those things.

INEJ GHAFA — THE WRAITH

raised as an acrobat in her family's traveling circus in her early life, inej was stolen from her home and sold as a slave to the menagerie. inej's acrobatic skills caught the attention of kaz, who bought off her indenture for her to work for him.

inej is a religious woman, who believes in the power of the saints. she thanks them for saving her from her imprisonment and bringing her to the crows, especially to the two members she's grown fond of—kaz brekker and eddie crowley—and the strange newcomer, nina zenik.

EDDIE & INEJ — (girlboss x malewife) inej started working for the crows shortly after eddie and the two bonded of their shared skillset. though, inej refuses to kill because of her faith. therefore, whenever she needs the help on a job she can't complete, she'll always call on eddie. the two began to work closely together on jobs after kaz saw how good of a team they made. with inej moving without making a single sound and eddie blending seamlessly into the shadows. though working together and saving each other's lives countless times, the two grew closer. inej's no-nonsense approach to her work contrasting with eddie's tendency to have fun with it. she does have a habit of needing to tell him off—but, he secretly enjoys hearing her tell him what to do. enough that, sometimes, he'll cause just enough trouble to get inej to take the lead. shh, don't tell her.

JESPER FAHEY — THE IMPOSSIBLE SHOT

originally from the wandering isles, jesper came to ketterdam under the guise of a university student. however, here he discovered his truest love—gambling. jesper is an incredible shot—if he can stop cracking jokes long enough to take it.

jesper can't say no to a bet, whether it's at the card table or amongst his fellow crows. though he doesn't always come out on top, he would say luck was on his side leading him to two people that changed his life—eddie crowley and wylan van eck.

EDDIE & JESPER — (dumbass x single brain cell) jesper and eddie originally didn't get along well, their personalities clashing sharply. eddie never liked how he never seemed to take anything seriously. however, after a late night in the crow club and far too many drinks, they had a fling. it was never supposed to mean anything, but they did it again, and again. casual, they both said, while knowing it was deeper than that. eddie kept jesper pushed away, not knowing how he'd feel about him having feelings for other people as well. but, jesper eventually found out about his worries and assured eddie that he didn't care so long as he could have him too. jesper and eddie's relationship develops into something very casual, but not in the usual tense. they're casually domestic, casually romantic, casually obsessive. jesper's flashy sharpshooting skills usually being scolded by a watchful eddie who can't keep a straight face as he does it.

NINA ZENIK — THE HEARTRENDER

raised in the little palace like all ravkan grisha, nina became a spy for her country at a young age. after being lost over the frejdan boarder, she barely survived and ended up in ketterdam to save both her life and her former captor—matthias helver.

born as a corporalki, nina trained to become one of the best heartrenders of her generation. her control over the human body is unrivaled by grisha, however she spends her time at the white orchid soothing anxieties and curing migraines. but, she also is connected to the dregs through kaz brekker to the dregs—where she met eddie crowley and inej ghafa.

EDDIE & NINA — (idiots in love) when nina and eddie first met, they thought nothing of each other. but, once they began working on a job together, nina realized that eddie was grisha as well, but not just any grisha—a shadow summoner. the kind that ravkans were taught to fear, the kind the black heretic was. it was only natural for nina to be nervous. however, nina has never been one to take stories as fact. she would never have fallen in love with a druskelle that way. and as she began to spend more time with eddie, she discovered he was more nervous about his abilities than she was. she found herself encouraging him to try and use them more instead of caution him against it. nina was the first ravkan to look at eddie without suspicious or anxiety. it felt good to be respected by a fellow grisha, not feared. and something in nina's eyes just made him feel safe. it's hard to hide a crush from someone who can quite literally feel every beat of your heart and nina quickly began to tease eddie about it. however, eddie had figured out how not to get flustered long enough to tease back. they're absolute idiots to each other and spend most of their time with each other giggling.

MATTHIAS HELVER — THE EX-DRUSKELLE

born in fjerda and trained as one of the mighty warriors known as the druskelle, matthias was raised to fear grisha and see their abilities as an abomination. however, a chance encounter with a grisha that saved his life—nina zenik—matthias' worldview was shifted.

but, betrayed by nina and sent to hellgate prison in ketterdam for a crime he did not commit, matthias wrestles with his beliefs. after being broken out by kaz and his crew for a heist in fjerda, matthias' split beliefs are challenge again by another grisha—eddie crowley.

EDDIE & MATTHIAS — (grumpy x sunshine) eddie and matthias met on the ice court heist. when matthias was still figuring out how to trust nina again, he started spending time with eddie on their long trip to fjerda. eddie's easy-going and teasing personality once again proved that everything he'd been taught about grisha was a lie. something about the shadow summoner reminded him of nina and he assumed that's what the feels that surfaced were—a missing of the woman he didn't know how to trust anymore. but, once he reunited with nina and forgave her, the feelings didn't fade, and when eddie and nina began to get together, he found himself wanting to be there with them. the two were more than happy with the arrangement. plus, matthias' grumpy front made him so much fun to tease.

WYLAN VAN ECK — THE DEMOLITIONS MAN

born to merchant jan van eck, wylan was always seen as the disappointment of a son, due to his inability to read. after his father tried to have him killed, wylan escaped into the barrel and tried to start a new life as a tannery apprentice.

however, wylan's genius in chemistry made him adept at creating explosions, which drew the eye of kaz. seeing through his alias of wylan hendricks, kaz recruited him to the ice court heist as leverage agains their employer. however, wylan didn't care why he was on the mission, so long as he was, and ended up meeting jesper fahey and eddie crowley.

EDDIE & WYLAN — (looks like a cinnamon roll, can kill you x looks like can kill you, is a cinnamon roll) eddie wasn't pleased about having wylan on the mission at first, as kaz put him in charge of watching over the newbie and making sure he didn't try and get away. eddie only saw him as a possible problem but, trusting kaz's expertise, did it anyway. however, through spending so much time with wylan, eddie began to realize the boy's genius. wylan would sometimes start rambling about chemical compounds—things eddie didn't really understand—and then get embarrassed about it. however, eddie secretly found wylan's genius attractive and seeing him go on those rants or stand up to kaz with that sense of morality made eddie get a sense of protectiveness for this newcomer to the crows.

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[fire-but-ashes-too]

Can you tell me about Questionable Decisions?

yessss

its my latest WIP, based on an idea I got a t two am so it isn't fully mapped out yet

it's a Six of Crows, kanej centric, enemies to lovers fanfiction set in our time

both Kaz and Inej are really good fencers, the two best of the whole Kerch(cliche I know) and, of course they're rivals because they have to be the best

as for the snippet here you goooo

KAZ "Kaz Brekker doesn't need a reason" that's what they all said, whispering in the hallways as he passed by, gossiping in cars and shops, staring at him in class. And they were right. He had a habit of doing the impossible just prove it wasn't. "When people say impossible they usually mean improbable" said constantly Nikolai Lantsov, one of the only right things he ever spoke. And just him standing there, waiting to walk in a stadium he knew would cheer for him the moment they saw him, that alone was nearly impossible, yet there he was. Theoretically he had to wait for his coach to give him the sign to enter, but as always the man wasn't there, and the wait was getting pretty tiring, plus he had matches to win, so he lingered for just a jiffy more and walked in. As always, he was right. He would never admit it, but it was kind of pleasing seeing all of those people staring at him with a mix of awe and fear. It gave him a rush of power. A dangerous one. Of exaltation. Too frail to count something, as it could be broken in an instant. He went and joined his two "colleagues" on the bench, gloating in their bitter glares like a lizard would do in the sun. They were the only Kerch fencers that day, the only that passed the selections and so sent to represent the country at the championship in Ravka, Not a word was spoken between them, but he could see the two girls eyeing each other constantly, and it was honestly hilarious. The host was calling the various teams now, and it was now their turn to stand up and wave around, like fake royalty.