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auroravictorium · 1 year

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lavender haze (k.b.)

Summary: when the reader is injured and kaz kills someone for them (oops), they come to a realization of their feelings.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker and reader Word Count: ~1.8k Warnings: mild violence (stabbing, mentions of gunshots, physical fighting), blood, mentions of death Genre: a bit of angst, but with a fluffy ending

Author's Note: this is part of the midnights saga (inspired by taylor swift's midnights ofc) but can be read as a oneshot or as part of the series once i've written more :)) send me requests for kaz if you so desire. only 54 days until season two of sab releases let's goooooo

“This was not the plan,” you shouted to Jesper, dodging a fist hurtling toward your face. Your muscles burned with exertion, and your skin ached with bruises from being shoved down the stairs by the targets who somehow knew you were coming. It wasn't your most graceful moment, getting pushed down hard, splintered wooden stairs. You landed at a guard's feet, to boot. An excellent start to what seemed like such an easy heist: get in, grab the rolled-up canvases of forged paintings and get out and back to the Slat before anyone could notice anything amiss.

"I think I know that," he snapped back, ripping his pistol from its holster and using it to bash his attacker in the head. The guard groaned and slumped to the wooden floor, dazed. Jesper took the chance to aim his pistol at the man trying to lock you in a chokehold. "Can you get him to stop moving?"

"I'm going to kill you if you shoot me," you snarled, bringing your knee to the man's gut and bashing his temple with your pistol. He crumpled, and you kicked the man's chest once he was on the ground. It seemed fair after shoving you down the stairs and possibly breaking your ribs. It ached horribly to breathe, and your wrist throbbed when you flexed it. Sprained, no doubt. There was no time to worry about that because another idiotic guard thundered down the stairs right toward you with two lackeys behind him.

Where were Inej, Kaz, and Nina?

You pulled the trigger on your pistol, taking a nonlethal shot at the first guard's thigh, sending him tumbling down the stairs with a shriek. See? That's how it feels, asshole.

Jesper handled the second one, and you went for the third, going for the arm this time. He howled in pain and clutched his arm, nearly tripping over his feet.

"Where's-?" you began, then your hair prickled on the back of your neck. Spinning around, you were greeted with a bash to the face. You collapsed to the ground, and your head hit the floor with an impact that rattled your teeth. You gasped for air, and black spots danced across your vision. The world spun too fast on its axis. Nothing was in focus. Distantly, Jesper shouted. You thought he was fighting the man who hit you.

Pain blossomed between your ribs, and you screamed. The world snapped sharply back into focus long enough to glimpse your attacker's face, concealed by a black scarf wrapped tightly around his head. His eyes were black as coal and filled with pure rage as he stabbed you, twisting the blade to inflict as much damage as possible.

You sobbed as he pulled the dagger free. Something sharp and metallic was bubbling in your throat, threatening to choke you. It bubbled out of your lips, painting them red and sliding down your cheek. The world around you disappeared, and you floated on nothing.

People talked, there was shouting, then more burning on your chest. Someone apologizing. A hand pressed between your ribs over your wound.

"No more," you thought you said. "Please."

You were dying. You could recognize that much.

As the chains of death fastened themselves around your wrists, cold metal biting your feverish skin, you thought of Kaz. His piercing blue eyes, how his coat looked against his pale skin, the way he brushed his fingers through his hair as he concocted heists. How he said your name so softly that you wondered if he felt the same way you did about him. Fluttery, light, hoping to give him a smile and have him smile back. All you wanted was a smile from Kaz, even if he didn't feel that same fluttering as your eyes caught.

Now you wouldn't even get that.

The world disappeared.

And then it came back.

You woke with dry lips and a pounding head. Your throat burned from a lack of water, and everything around you was blurry from unconsciousness.

You looked around at your room in the Slat. How did I get here? Shouldn't I be greeting the Saints now, not feeling like shit with water leaking from the roof onto my head?

Someone leaned forward in a creaky chair beside you, and you saw his cane before you saw him. He was sitting in a chair haphazardly shoved in the corner. It hadn't been there before you'd died, nor had Kaz. He'd never even been in your room before.

"Hi," you rasped. Internally, you winced. Hi? That's the best you could say? You died while thinking of him, and you can only muster 'hi?' Maybe you could be stabbed again and start this over.

Kaz looked you over, his face carefully arranged into a mask of neutrality. But his hair was greasy and falling into his eyes, and he had dark shadows under his eyes that made him look like he'd been punched in the face. "How are you feeling?" His voice was almost just as blank as his face. But underneath his words was.. concern. He was worried. About you.

Where the hell had you gone after you died? In what world did Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, show any emotion?

"Am I dead?" you asked him. You experimentally tried to sit up, but your chest screamed at you in pain, and Kaz's cane shot out. The tip pressed against the wall beside your bed, and you were blocked from getting up.

Kaz was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, "What were you thinking? Why did you try to take all of them at once?"

"Jesper and I had it handled." Your throat throbbed, and Kaz seemed to realize that speaking was difficult. He held out a glass of water, and you lifted your head. Carefully, he tipped some of the liquid down your throat. You swallowed and sighed in relief.

"You nearly died," Kaz said. He placed the glass of water on the ground and stood, removing the cane from where it blocked you and thumping it against the floorboards. "It was reckless." His voice was lined with anger.

Anger sparked in your chest. "I woke up after being out for?"

"Three days," Kaz gritted out, whirling to face you. His eyes were ablaze, and you nearly shrunk under that look. It was so unlike him, usually so cold and stoic, that having that emotion directed at you was startling. But you didn't back down and forced yourself into a sitting position despite the searing pain and stiff bandages around your chest.

"Three days, and the first thing you do is decide to yell at me? I'm sorry I almost died, but I would appreciate it if you could wait to lecture me until I'm not about to keel over from pain."

His jaw flexed. He was furious. Much more than you realized. His eyes closed, and his chest expanded and contracted as he took a deep breath. "You nearly died," he said again. His voice was calmer now, and you found yourself softening. "When Inej and I found you nearly bleeding out while Jesper tried to stem the blood, I wanted to kill the person who did this to you." He inhaled again and turned his back to you.

He was silent for a few long moments. "Kaz?" you whispered. He was within your reach but felt so far away. Especially since he didn't like to be touched, and you didn't dare push that boundary to get his attention.

"I did," he admitted. "While Nina worked on you, Jesper and I followed him, and I killed him."

You didn't prompt him to continue this time. He so rarely shared his thoughts. You didn't want to ruin this.

"Killing him didn't keep you from nearly dying," he said quietly. "Your heart stopped. I thought I'd never..." The words died in his throat.

Your hand twitched with the urge to reach out to him. He was trying to say what he felt, but Kaz Brekker wasn't good with emotions. He hadn't been since he nearly drowned in the harbor.

"You said my name while you slept," he said roughly. He turned back to face her, his blue eyes on fire with something you struggled to identify immediately. Later, you recognized it as desperation.

He needed you to say it. He worked so hard to keep all his emotions beneath the surface that they refused to come to him when he called. He felt them all, burning beneath his skin, pleading to be shared, only to disappear when summoned.

You didn't struggle as intensely. "I thought of you when I was dying," you breathed. The words were quiet, shy. Almost ashamed that you hadn't thought of someone else, like your best friend from home. "I thought of you smiling."

Kaz nearly laughed out of sheer amazement. "You've never seen me smile."

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands. "But I want to. And I thought I would die without seeing it at least once."

The room was so silent your ears almost started ringing. Then the floorboards creaked, and Kaz sat in the chair beside your bed again. You exhaled slowly, relieved that he didn't open the door and disappear. It was the worst-case scenario that had haunted your dreams. But he hadn't, and he was back beside you again. It was closer than you'd ever expected to be to him.

"Don't die on me again, and maybe you will see it," he said. He rested his cane against the wall and stretched out his legs. Behind his words was relief. You understood what he was trying to say and felt the same, and you were alive. He had the chance to say this to you. For the first time in a long time, Kaz found himself nearly thanking the Saints.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you looked over and met his eyes. A silent understanding passed between you, and his lip quirked up in the corners, ever-so-slightly. You smiled back and looked down at your hands.

You were on the precipice of something new. It was something you'd wanted for so long that you couldn't believe this was real.

"I'm still going to lecture you for almost dying," Kaz said, breaking the silence. He looked at you seriously, but a glimmer of something danced in his eyes. Despite the threat, you couldn't help but wheeze a quiet laugh.

"I expect nothing less, Boss."

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auroravictorium · 1 year

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snow on the beach (pt. 1) (k.b.)

Summary: kaz tries to freeze reader to death, but he's actually just trying to do something nice.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker & reader (semi-stablished relationship)

Word Count: ~2.0k

Warnings: mentions of prior stabbing, allusions to kaz's touch aversion, mentions of a near-death experience, reader thinking about punching kaz because he's hot, kaz trying his best

Genre: fluff w a touch of angst at the end

Author's Note: had to break this beast into a two-parter, otherwise it would end up being way too long. thank you all so much for the love on the midnights series <3 i'm so glad you guys are enjoying this as much as i am while writing it!! tag list has been added at the bottom, so feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added :D happy reading loves!

part two

grishaverse masterlist

There were exactly six inches of distance between you and Kaz's shoulder, a fact you were acutely aware of as you walked down the cramped sidewalk. Cold air gusted off the Fifth Harbor, chilling you through your coat, and you pulled the collar up to stop the wind from reaching its icy fingers down your neck. If you could, you'd burrow yourself into Kaz and leech off his body warmth, but you knew that wouldn't be subtle as you patrolled the harbor. He also wouldn't enjoy the contact, so you kept your hands firmly to yourself.

"I told you to bring a scarf," Kaz muttered just loud enough for you to hear. He limped along without slowing, but you knew he was watching you out of his periphery.

"And I told you that I hate the cold. Why didn't you bring Matthias?" Your teeth chattered, and you tugged your coat tighter around you. If anyone could bear the chilly weather brewing over Kerch, it would be the Fjerdan. But no, Kaz woke you up at dawn and dragged you along on his scan of the harbor. Meanwhile, everyone else was back at the Slat, sleeping or staying warm by the fire. If you were more money-minded, you would charge him interest for the time he was taking trying to freeze you to death.

"Because Matthias hates me," Kaz answered. "And I find you more tolerable." He looked unbothered and unaffected by the cold, aside from a dusting of red across his stupidly handsome cheekbones. You thought about punching him for looking so attractive. It was unfair.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just wanted to spend time with me." You glanced up at him, a smirk playing on your half-frozen lips. "But I must say, I'd enjoy this time spent together a bit more if I didn't feel like a walking ice block."

Anyone who knew Kaz only as the ruthless, greedy Dirtyhands wouldn't have noticed any change in his face. But you saw his lips twitch in an almost smile, and his eyes glittered with joy. He must've been in a great mood to risk letting his mask slip like that.

"You're impatient," he told you.

"You're cruel," you retorted, turning your eyes to the cloudy sky.

The clouds were thick and dark, blocking most of the morning sunshine. Nasty rain was almost certain to happen, but with the frigid cold, a small hope blossomed in your chest that it might turn to snow. Rain was characteristic of Ketterdam, but snow? It didn't happen often enough for your taste. Ironic, considering your loathing of the cold, but there was something magical about the snow. It reminded you of when you were young and watched it fall through the cracked living room window of your childhood home.

Kaz didn't respond, but amusement radiated off of him. You dared to huddle closer to him for warmth, and you were pleased to discover he didn't seem all that inclined to move away. In fact, Kaz was completely unbothered by your closeness to him and your arm pressing against his. He waited for the terror to claim him as it usually did, but he was surprised and pleased to find that little came. He felt nothing more than a tad nauseated.

"Are we almost done? It's nearly breakfast time." If you didn't get next to a hearth soon, you would refuse liability for any acts of violence you committed.

Kaz again didn't answer, and he remained silent for the next two minutes, even as you huffed and muttered under your breath. You halfheartedly considered pushing him into the road and seeing how well he could dodge a carriage.

After another minute of walking that felt like an hour on your numbing legs, you opened your mouth to ask what was next after the wintry patrol of the harbor. Kaz suddenly stopped walking, and you nearly ran into him. He either didn't notice or didn't care and gripped your elbow to tug you across the rough cobbled street and into an alleyway.

"Couldn't wait for the cold to get me?" you asked, taking in the grimy alley you'd been pulled into. You wouldn't blame Kaz for tiring of your pestering, but you hoped for a more scenic view if your demise was coming. Maybe a nice view of the harbor.

"I realized killing you myself would be more efficient," he answered. His lips quirked up in a smirk.

Kaz pulled you toward a doorway you hadn't initially noticed. Instinctively, you felt for the holster at your waist, but Kaz didn't seem concerned about safety. He was still uncharacteristically cheery, for him at least, and his shoulders were relaxed as he released you in front of the door and rapped his gloved knuckles against the wood three times.

"Has anyone ever told you how you have a way with words?"

You examined the door set into the brick wall: there was nothing special or flashy about it. It was a simple dark oak door leading into a building from the alleyway. You couldn't imagine Kaz making a house call, and walking through the front door on a heist wasn't his style. So why had he brought you here?

The door opened suddenly, and you nearly jumped in surprise. There stood a woman whose perfect tan skin and immaculately styled hair immediately told you that she was Grisha. You examined her more closely, searching for any imperfection, and concluded that she was a Corporalki.

Her brown eyes flicked between the two of you suspiciously before she seemed to recognize the man at your side. She paled under his icy gaze. "Mister Brekker. I didn't- I must have missed your appointment," she said.

"No appointment, Amalia." He jerked his chin toward you. All hints of humor or amusement had disappeared from his voice. "She needs her tattoo. The crow and cup."

You looked up at him in surprise, your lips parting. After two years with the Dregs and almost a year in Kaz's closest circle, you were finally getting your tattoo? Most Dregs got it sooner, but yours had been put off. For a long time, you wondered if it was because you still needed to prove yourself as a valuable member of the Dregs. But here you were on this stranger's doorstep, and Kaz said this to Amalia as if it was a daily occurrence and not something you had been looking forward to for a long time.

You examined his face, looking for any indication of how he felt, but the expressive Kaz from your walk had disappeared and been replaced with the aloof Dirtyhands everyone feared. You nearly shivered at the sight; of course, you weren't afraid of Kaz anymore. But he so rarely wore that look around you that when he did, it reminded you of what he was capable of. He was not just the man who shared gentle touches of hands with you or tapped his cane against your boot when he wanted to remind you that he was there. He could be cold, calculating, and downright cruel when he needed to be.

Amalia nodded and poked her head out of the doorway to peer into the alley. "Of course. Come in." Her eyes flicked around, searching for anyone following before she stepped aside for the two of you.

Kaz led the way inside, ducking into the warm, incense-filled parlor. You trailed behind him, eyes on his neck as you tried to process the news that Kaz had decided not to tell you about. The door shut behind you, and you examined the dim, smoky entryway. One long, threadbare carpet along the creaky floor, an old staircase with a decaying railing, and a few obviously forged paintings on the peeling wallpapered walls.

"A moment alone, please," you murmured to Amalia as she passed. She moved into a room to your left and then shut the door to give the two of you privacy. Turning to Kaz, you raised your brows. "I'm getting my tattoo?"

Kaz turned to face you after removing his coat and throwing it over the rickety handrail. He leaned against the rotting wood and met your gaze. His eyes filled with warmth again as he looked at you; Dirtyhands had receded for now. "It's been two years," he said softly, so Amalia couldn't hear from the other room. His voice was unexpectedly tender, and you stepped closer to him. "It's overdue."

"You usually send new recruits to get theirs alone and see if they back out of it." You met his gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest as one side of his mouth quirked upward. Every time he smiled, you were grateful you survived a dagger to the chest nearly five months ago and got the opportunity to finally see it.

"You're hardly a new recruit," he responded. Kaz's cheeks were pink, and you couldn't tell if it was from the heat of the parlor or whatever he was thinking. "And if I sent you alone, this wouldn't be much of a surprise."

"You wanted to surprise me?" you said softly. Your heart was going all mushy on you. Damn it. Pull it together. It's just a tattoo. But it was a tattoo that he came with you to get, even though he didn't have to and probably had a million other things to work on.

Kaz scowled. "Don't be ridiculous." He had a reputation to uphold, and here you were, completely correct in accusing him of trying to surprise you. His heart flipped in his chest at the happiness on your face, but he maintained his frown. That happiness would be his ruin, but so be it. He hadn't spent three days by your bedside and walked through the blistering cold waiting for damn snowflakes to fall for nothing. He did it for you, for the smile that threatened to break down every barrier he'd put up around his heart and his emotions after Jordie died.

The icy water of the harbor lapped at his ankles in warning. Stay close to shore, Kaz.

"Kaz Brekker wanted to surprise me. I'm honored," you teased. You stepped closer and beamed up at him, unaware of how much further Kaz's thoughts went than the tattoo. The scowl on his face lightened, and he looked at you with an expression you didn't recognize on him at first.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you realized what that look was.

Longing.

Kaz didn't move closer or further away, fighting against the water rising around him as your chests touched. You were so warm, so close, and he could see every beautiful shade of color in your eyes even in the dimness of the parlor. If he could paint, he would cover a million canvases with it to try and replicate it to be kept forever. He would make a miniature to keep in his jacket pocket, close to his heart.

He didn't realize that he'd leaned in until a wave of panic threatened to drown him, and he had to jerk away to get air. He turned away from you, and your heart sank in your chest. Not because he hadn't kissed you, but because it was clear he wanted to. It broke your heart to watch him battle himself and then be furious when he felt like he lost each time. You wished there was more you could do.

You brushed your fingers against his shoulder. It's okay, the gesture told him. His shoulders loosened again. He wasn't aware that he'd bunched them up.

"Let's go inside," you whispered.

He nodded, and for once, Kaz Brekker did not meet your eyes. He thumped his cane against the creaky floorboards and then strode into the room Amalia was waiting for you in.

You took a deep breath, turned your eyes toward the sky and whatever may be there, and followed Kaz into the adjoining room to receive your tattoo.

[part two (coming soon)]

TAGLIST: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

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