#IT'S SO FUNNY he's so tiny and itty bitty and he's so smug

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Little did you know - Kaz Brekker/platonic! Crows x fem! reader

A/n: I don't know where this came from... It's a mess but its like- whatever I guess

Warnings: GORE, DEATH, TORTURE, questionable sanity, this could be disturbing to some people so don't say I didn't warn you!

I do not own six of crows or shadow and bone or it's characters

Summary: The Crows make a vital mistake when trying to get information not knowing that it would cost them everything...

(Gif not mine)

Her hair flows in the wind the only part of her moving the rest still as a serpent creeping up on its prey. Slowly, she starts to move forward as she spots her victims, some pretty little birdy's, just some unusually remarkable crows. If anything went right today the only thing that would be remarkable about them would be their downfall.

She almost yells out in excitement and joy when they wander right into her trap. They walk into her house - a dead merchant's house and go to loot what's left of it.

From her vantage point in the ceiling, she can see everything, from Nina's hands out ready to Matthias beside her. She sees Jesper's darting eyes and Wylan's uneasiness. Moreover, she can even see Inej Ghafa in the shadows high on alert ready to strike at any moment, just in case.

Then her eyes find Kaz and she almost kills him there and then.

He's in his normal attire and he hadn't changed his atrocious haircut either. Yet he's different still, it's the way he's holding himself. Like he feels accomplished.

And even though he has his neutral 'I'm bored' face on Y/n can see through him. She's always been able too and right now he's happy for an easy run. Not a trace of him is guilty or mourning and it's only been one week.

Now that she thinks about it there's not a trace of mourning in anyone.

Balling her hands into fits she nearly screams in agony, they thought she had died and they didn't even care. If she had any doubts before they're gone with just some simple observation.

Yet Y/n still waits and as soon as the Crows get into the trap completely she starts moving.

They had killed her loving parents who worked at a bakery, they had done nothing, nothing wrong. But now they were still six feet under, and she knew it was not just some casualties. Kaz was too precise for that.

She creeps up behind Inej and knocks her out cold before she can even cry out, Y/n catches her body before it can hit the floor and she carefully lays Inej to the said knowing she'll have to tie her up later.

Next is Jesper and Wylan.

For Jesper, she shoots him with a sleeping dart made out of a massively hard metal to control for fabricators and blinds Wylan before doing the same thing to him as well.

Taking out a bomb from Wylan's bag she sets it off. Running towards Nina and before she can use her heartrender abilities, Y/n headbutts her causing her figure to fall to the floor. Unconscious.

Matthias starts sprinting towards her but she simply grabs his shoulder and hits him on a pressure point on his neck and he's out with the rest of them.

It's funny because he taught her that manoeuvre.

"Kaz!" She yells in a shrill voice beckoning him downstairs, did he really leave his little itty bitty Crows alone? Ah, just like he did to her, what they all did to her.

The Crows and Y/n were on a mission and something went wrong, she was shot and they left her to die. She could have been easily saved but they left her and while they did that she remembers - the thing that she remembers most about that night. Kaz leaned down into her ear and said;

'Thanks for the information little snake.'

They had used her to get information, everything she had with them was fake. Everything with Kaz was fake. Every little touch, every little moment, their entire (established) relationship was fake.

"Come down Kazzy I helped you! Now you help me!" She runs up the stairs knowing that there's only one exit, the window. That was extremely high off the ground he would hopefully try to bargain with her first.

Even if he didn't Y/n had brought some rope because he would definitely break his legs at that height.

But Y/n wasn't a little snake now she was a majestic serpent that wielded the screeches of revenge in her venom.

She runs into the room with the window and there he was there in a chair in the shadows looking smug, but the serpent knew it was all just a facade - fake confidence.

Smiling at him she pulls out a second chair from a broken-down desk and places it right in front of him. 'Bang.' It's a simple sound but it echos throughout the room bouncing off the walls into the depths of madness.

"Oh Kazzy, have you come to help me?" She takes her lip in between her teeth and fake trembles.

"Have you come to save me?" Her voice is tiny and it's nothing like it used to be around him, yet he still flinches. He knows she's putting on an act but it still hurts him. And she wants to hurt him over, and over again.

"Y/n... We needed that information, lots of the Dregs' lives were on the line. There is so much more you wouldn't don't understand."

Laughing into the open she secretly pulls out a syringe from her back pocket readying it in her hand.

Instantly her voice changes from the scarce poor girl's voice to a very dark voice. Vengeance was held there and it was like burning your ears in the pits of hell listening to it. The sins and revenge sounded melodic but the torture that laid underneath was horrific.

"Really Rietveld? Did you think I would forgive so easily?"

Kaz's face morphs into surprise at hearing his real last name, Y/n jumps at the chance and she plunges the syringe deep into his neck.

"See you in hell."

___________________TIME SKIP A COUPLE OF HOURS__

All the Crows are tied up to some chairs in the secret basement of the house. The woman waits for what looks like patiently but really she's boiling with excitement.

This is going to be fun.

Finally, the last Crows wakes up and the Serpent takes out her playthings. Just a couple of knives and guns, but those were just her toys the real weapons are the emotional and mental pain she would cause everyone including herself.

"You know why you are here, don't you?" She walks around the room watching every one of The Crows' snarling faces but perhaps some of them held remorse.

Although Y/n was past their pity now. None of the damage could be undone, what's done is done. An eye for an eye.

"Nina darling, this may hurt a bit." Quicker than Jesper's sharpshooter's eye could catch she stabs Nina in the stomach as she yells out in pain Y/n twists the knife back and forth.

Matthias screams out for his lover and after what feels like an internity the serpent pulls the dagger out knowing that she'll just eventually die from blood loss.

Taking a quick look around the room she notices some of the terrified faces and how everyone is on edge. Good, just how she wants it.

"Mörd demjin," Matthias mutters under his breath and Y/n takes his throat in her hand and holds tight enough to choke him.

"Don't call me by the little nickname you gave Kazzy!" She yells furiously holding onto him tighter and tighter. His face starts to become purple and she can hear the yells and screams of the birdy's in the background.

'No! Let go! Matthias! Matthias! Let him go!'

"Any last words?" She jets out her lip before holding onto him tighter and she sees the fury of the ice in his eyes before there's nothing. His eyes roll back lifeless.

"No Matthias! Matthias!" Nina shrieks trying to desperately get out of her chair.

Rolling her eyes with a huff Y/n pulls out a gun and shoots Nina twice in the head.

"Now you're with your lover." She drawls on the word lover and turns to Inej. She didn't really want to do this but she had to cause him all the pain that she could. Even if Inej tried to stop them.

Swiftly she pulls out the knife Inej gave her and kindly kills her with a hard blow to the heart. She doesn't suffer, she just solely died, it's the only kindness the Serpent can afford to give her.

At this point, Jesper and Wylan are openly sobbing and screaming for their friends and for Y/n to please stop. But she doesn't, with blood all over her clothes she makes her path towards her next fool.

"If you were wondering why you couldn't control the bullets, Jesper." She drawls on in a monotone voice. She can see and hear Wylan screaming and it pains her but she doesn't let it show. She lets the Serpent take over or else this will never get done.

Fully becoming the Serpent Y/n places the barrel of her gun up to his heart and she just shoots, no emotion on her face whatsoever.

"A special venom of mine for Grisha. Had some fun testing it."

Going over to Wylan she quickly slits his throat not wanting the little merchling to suffer more than he already has.

She looks at Kaz blankly, he's shaking and he's beyond trying not to show any emotion. Tears are streaming down his face and he's gasping for air. Trembles roll off his body and the agony on his face pierces her hurt.

"Why?" Rietveld finally manages to rasp out. "WHY!" He screams ultimately reaching his breaking point.

"Because Kaz," She whispers in a sickeningly sweet voice lifting his chin with the tip of her pointer finger.

"Everything comes with a price." She pauses letting it sink in.

"And little did you know the price it would cost you."

And that's the story of Sankta Serpentina and Sankt Dirtyhands.

Words 1634

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

(if you would like to be added leave a comment!)

[palettepainter]

Headcannon: Dangan got mistaken for the Higari and his siblings’ dad a lot when they were little, but he didn’t correct them on it because he didn’t want the kids to feel like they didn’t have a father figure after their Pa died. On the flip side, all of Maijima siblings have called him dad at least once and his reactions always range from a raised brow to a “Ha, you wish kid.”

I have wanted to draw something for this for the LONGEST time but for the life of me, I CAN'T GET DANGAN'S DESIGN DONE THE WAY I WANT!! So sadly, you're gonna have to have this short story without the drawing. BUT I SWEAR WHEN I GET HIS DESIGN RIGHT I WILL DRAW THIS!!

Story takes place when Higari is itty bitty baby, Kaigo is still alive but Higari is too little to understand Dangan is his uncle not his pa

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You only have to watch him for a few hours" Magakure reassured, standing on Dangan's doorstep dressed in coat and boots "I won't be gone long, and he'll probably fall asleep anyway"

Dangan looked to Magakure with an unreadable expression, then, he peered down to Higari in his arms, the tiny tot chewed and drooled on his own foot before he suddenly blew a raspberry, giggling at nothing

"...But why me?"

Magakure shook her head with an unimpressed frown "Honestly, you're more of a baby then the actually baby" she sighed, looking back up to Dangan whom was far taller then her "Dangan there's no one else available to watch him. Kaigo is busy with a car repair and I still have other things to do: like shopping" she lifted up her empty shopping bag "Just do this for me alright??"

Dangan rolled his eyes with a hmph

Higari, oblivious as ever, blinked his big curious eyes up at the familiar man holding him. He coed, waving his tiny little mits up at him to try and reach his face. His little arms where far too short to grab him, yet Dangan still leaned his head away from him "I still don't get why he's so curious about me.." Dangan said

Magakure smiled, nearly chuckling when Dangan of all people cringed at the way Higari blew a bubble out of his spit "You aren't the most cuddly or soft" Magakure said with a thoughtful nod "But you amaze him all the same. You aren't his parent but you're a close friend of his parents, so he wants to get to know you"

Dangan looked to Magakure with something very close to a pout, something that was both hilarious and rare on Dangan's often smug face "..Do I have to watch him?" Dangan asked, a last hope to try and escape this responsibility

Magakure remained unphased and answered confidently "Do you want him to be unsupervised?" Dangan looked away "You only have to watch him Dangan, I've left all the things you'll need in that bag" Magakure gestured to another separate bag at Dangan's feet, which Magakure had packed earlier that morning "I'll give you a call when I come back to pick him up okay? And only call me or Kaigo if it's urgent"

Accepting his defeat, Dangan adjusted his hold on Higari and sighed "Yeah yeah.."

Magakure smiled and turned to exit off Dangan's doorstep "Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone"

/////////////////////////////////////

This was not how Dangan wanted to spend his afternoon.

Did he have plans? No - maybe he would go out, maybe he'd go outside in his garden, have a snooze in the sun. Maybe he'd snooze on his couch. Have a cold beer or two, maybe three if he wanted to spoil himself. Just relax, let the world continue running outside his four walls while he slept it all away, that was how he wanted to spend his day.

Instead, Dangan sat with mushed up carrots and potato on his face on his face, a tiny plastic spoon held between his fingers and a very amused looking Higari giggling at his mess. Dangan, behind the caked splatters of baby food, narrowed his eyes

"This is not funny" he grumbled, but that only made Higari giggle louder

Dangan snorted "Why can't you understand you're supposed to EAT your food! Your nearly seven months old, you should know by now that when I hold a spoonful out to you-" Dangan dipped the spoon into the jar of baby food and edged it towards Higari's mouth "-that's your cue to eat it-" Higari's tiny hand smacked the bottom of the food, comically catapulting the food into Dangan's face

It smacked him right between the eyes, and Dangan blinked...then narrowed his eyes "Gr- Fine then! Don't eat your food" Dangan, with more force then needed, slapped the lid back onto the baby food and tossed it back into the baby bag, it was practically empty anyway "But if you get cranky cuz yer hungry don't go cryin' to me"

Higari didn't even have the politeness to look even slightly guilty, happily smashing his hands up and down in the baby food that had been dropped on his high chair. A mess he was going to have to clean up

He groaned, yanking five baby wipes out of the packet and cleaning off his face, he'd be smelling like mushed veg for the next three days thanks to the little snot. "Alright, get over here" As though he was a bag of apples Dangan easily plucked Higari out of his chair by the scruff, glomps of baby food were stuck in his orange locks and mushed all over his cheeks, Dangan could at least try and get the worst of it off before he gave him a bath.

"Lets get this over with" Dangan sat himself down in his favorite arm chair and cradled Higari on his lap, using an arm to keep him from rolling off while the other picked out a clean wipe. Higari was clearly displeased at the coldness of the wipe on his cheek and turned his head away with a whine "Don't fuss" Dangan deadpanned, moving his hand to wipe at Higari's nose, in retaliation, Higari swatted his little hand at him in fury, which worked as well as one would think

"Stop squirming! I'm nearly done" Dangan wasn't sure why he was trying to negotiation with an infant, it was clear Higari wasn't interested in co-operating, especially when he all of a sudden grabbed at Dangan's hand holding the wipe and clamped his toothless jaws around them.

His little face contorted in disgust at the foreign flavor of the wipe, quickly spitting it out

"Hmph. Well that's what you get for trying to eat something that isn't food" Dangan said with a light scowl "Even though you where so insistent on chucking your lunch at me rather then eat it, and here you are trying to dine on a wet wipe!" He poked at Higari's tummy, causing the little infant to curl his legs up to his chest. Higari whined "What? You gonna cry now?" Dangan tilted his head down at him "All because I had to clean your face because you where the one who decided to make this difficult-"

Higari sniffled, fat tears growing in his eyes, Dangan paused....

He sighed "Okay, okay" Dangan tossed the dirty wipe onto the coffee table while his other arm lifted up Higari so he was resting on his shoulder. He could still hear him whimpering by his ear, so Dangan, not really sure what to do did what he thought Magakure would do: he started to rub his back and, all be it awkwardly, started to rock them back and fourth

"Uh, there there?.." Dangan tried, wanting to punch himself for sounding so ridiculous. Higari smacked his hands on Dangan's upper shoulder, wriggling in his hold "Heh, yeah..I probably deserve that" Dangan admitted "Uh..sorry, your Uncle isn't really good with this whole..babysitting, role model thing"

Dangan wasn't sure why he'd gotten up and started pacing the length of the living room back and fourth, still continuing to rub Higari's back, but he figured maybe it might help him calm down - he really didn't want this kid to start crying. "Don't take it personally, alright? Your Uncle's just a fu-.." he cleared his throat "Just an idiot"

Higari leaned back and peered at Dangan's face, his eyes where still glassy with tears "I didn't mean to get mad, I'm just...still getting used to this" Dangan moved to hold Higari out in front of him, like a cat being held accountable for it's actions "No offence but you did kinda just pop up into their plans, and no bodies ever really prepared for parent hood, or so I'm told"

Higari stared him, Dangan stared back, he seemed calmer now at least and didn't look like he was going to cry thank goodness. Though Dangan feared if he put him down he'd start bawling his eyes out- "Huh?" Dangan blinked, eyes going cross eyed as he stared down at Higari's little hand which had reached out to pat the end of his nose

"You mind?" Dangan asked in mock annoyance, one corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile as Higari's hands wondered curiously over his face "Daa..da"

Dangan hummed "What? You trying to talk to me pipsqueak?" he raised a brow "Aight, spit it out, I'm listenin'"

"Da!"

....Dangan blinked "Uh-" he chuckled "Uh, no Higari, I'm not dad - I;m Uncle. Un..cle"

"Da"

"Un-Cle"

"Da!"

"Uncle" Dangan repeated "Say it with me: UN..CLE. Uncle Dangan!"

Higari blinked, giving a lob sided grin before waving his hands at his face again, blubbering away silly baby nonsense while Dangan gave him a half lidded look

"...We'll work on it"

[ohthathurt]

Bring Me Home

Prompt: You were away for a while and I missed you so much that I kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety…sorry? 

Also inspired by this art

Heaving up his shoulder bag, Liam absently rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, digging into a travelling bag in front of him on the trolley for his water bottle. Flying sucked balls. Obscene as that description may be, it was God’s honest truth and he couldn’t wait to get out of the airport and into a private car that took him to their flat. His and Zaynie’s flat in New York.

He had just landed a few minutes ago and thankfully it being a late flight there weren’t as many people milling in and out, which always set Paddy on edge, sticking to Liam like Velcro. Baggage claim done, he followed his security out towards the arrivals gate and out of the airport’s exit sliding doors.

This time, no paps were present to document his entry into New York because of obvious reasons but Liam was grateful for them, he was sure he looked a mess. Face wrinkled with however little sleep he could manage and hair sticking up on all ends thanks to the residual hair wax, he was surprised no one gave him the stink eye.

He dropped heavily onto the soft seats of the car, a black sedan with tinted windows, and immediately curled up to go back to sleep. From the front passenger seat, he could hear Paddy look back at him and scoff but Liam ignored him for the sweet call of slumber and dreams full of happy amber eyes.

It was much later that he jolted up as he heard a sharp rap against the window that his face was currently smushed up against, haphazardly wiping off any drool that may have accumulated.

He looked around in a daze and he found the car was parked in idle in a narrow alley behind a building. The flat’s back entrance, then.

It was already beginning to be sunrise so he pushed himself out the car door and walked towards the building’s back entrance, an inconspicuous looking door with matte black paint on it. Liam wobbled his way through the door and robotically made his way towards their flat. A quick swipe and the security checks were sorted as he finally stepped into his home.

The smell of vanilla and dog food welcomed him as he sleepily chuckled, so Zayn was sneaking Rhino in behind his back. Their dogs, more like babies, weren’t always allowed in the flat whenever they lived here, due to Rhino’s tendency to run in open areas and Loki loved the gardens at their LA mansion.

But Liam stopped short of their living room, the coffee table a mess of comics and coasters, sheets of paper strewn around no doubt filled with mindless lyrics or wordless melodies. His heart ached to hear the soft pads of feet across their plush carpet, a wide grin with a scrunchy nose and lively eyes. He longed for those thin, wiry arms to wind around his neck, his husband a light weight in his arms as he jumped up to greet Liam.

All he wanted was to bury his nose in the soft, raven hair and breathe in the familiar but still intoxicating scent of Zayn.

God, he’s such a sap, if his husband was here he’d get a roll of the eyes and a scoff but still with a hint of rosy cheeks. Even after all these years, Zayn still loved to hear how much he meant to Liam.

With a shake of his head, Liam forced himself out of his head. Right, first things first.

He took long strides towards their bedroom, the door half open with the king sized bed in view, and all clean white sheets. Unlacing his shoes, he kicked them off in a hurry outside the bedroom’s entrance and made his way towards the wardrobe room. Of course, they had a wardrobe room; where else would Zayn keep the innumerous clothing items he received on the daily.

Liam flicked on the dim orange light of the tiny space and made his way towards the far left corner, where his own drawer of things was situated. Swiftly sliding it open, he reached in for a small velvet pouch. He shook its contents out onto his palm with a small smile as he finally slid on his wedding band.

Now he felt complete. Now he felt like Liam, just Liam, or as Niall called him, Mrs. Zayn Malik.

With a huff at the memory of his best friend taking the piss out of him, he exited the small room and his eyes zeroed in on the bed. Finally, his own bed.

After a quick use of the washroom, he took his cellphone out and sent a customary reached text to his husband, before shutting it off. He planted himself face down on the bed, practically groaning at the memory foam as it hugged his body. Blindly, he reached for Zayn’s pillow and cuddled it close to him, the scent of his husband still a remnant on it.

With a small sigh, he switched onto his side and curled up into a foetal position, before finally drifting off.

***

Light danced across his eyelids and Liam groaned as he absently remembered he forgot to shut the blinds. He fluttered his eyes open carefully, the sunlight almost blinding him and found that he was in the same position he slept in.

With a loud grunt, he shifted onto his back, only to find a dull ache present in his left shoulder and his back. He’d probably have to call his trainer in to check that over before he went back to his weight training.

After an agonizing hour of moving himself around for enough blood flow to ease his pain, he was perched on a stool at the kitchen island, a bowl of oat bran cereal in front of him and his thumb scrolling busily through his twitter mentions.

He chuckled at the few memes, apparently him and Niall were fodder for ‘1d memes’ nowadays, and smiled at the warm yet manic compliments left by his fans.

He exited out of his own twitter page and typed in a name he’s not ashamed to admit that he Googles more than his own. Zayn Malik.

Switching to an update blog on Tumblr, he found a flurry of new pictures of Zayn who was currently in Milan attending a Louis Vuitton show. His husband was holding several poses, dressed in a sleek, aubergine-coloured tux with black trims, shiny black shoes and hair an artful mess of inky black.

In each picture, Zayn held a similar pose, the achingly familiar smoulder and the mandala-covered hand on the lapel of his suit jacket. Liam’s heart threatened to burst with affection as he scrolled through more pictures of his husband, in every angle possible. God, but he was beautiful. And God, did Liam miss him terribly.

He also longed to see the familiar black ring on the left hand, right above the mandala tattoo. The same ring that he had purchased back in 2013, with the help of his and Zayn’s sisters. The same ring he had then presented to Zayn with a tear-filled speech that neither of them could get through.

But there was no use longing for something that was well far off in their future. He heaved a huge sigh and shoveled the last few spoonfuls of his breakfast, dropping the bowl in the sink to wash later.

He looked around the lonesome flat, figuring out what to do. The comics on the coffee table looked inviting so headed over to pick a few up.

**

Evening approached quickly and Liam found himself utterly bored and surrounded by crumpled up white papers. Lyrics scrawled down and scratched over, a funny looking doodle that was supposed to be Watson and Loki playing in the grass and just Zayn’s name signed over and over again.

The flat now looked a bit of a mess; the couch was obviously stained with a large yellow spot from where he had accidentally spilled some beer earlier in the day. His crumpled up papers littered the living room floor and a few reached across to the entrance of his bedroom, from where he had lobbed it in frustration, when lyrics and melodies escaped him.

He was pretty sure there were dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen sink and a flurry of crumbs on the kitchen floor and counter from when he had dropped the box of cereal clumsily. He’d mostly cleaned it up but there were still some obvious signs of trauma.

His dirty clothes from the airport were lying half in and out of the laundry basket and their washroom a mess from when Liam took an hour long hot shower without bothering to clean up the steam stained windows of their shower.

So he was a bit of a mess, but his husband’s absence was getting to him. He couldn’t even call him because he didn’t want to bother Zayn and worry him with the fact that he couldn’t even handle a few weeks alone.

Thick scruff was now growing freely over his jaw and he hadn’t changed into any proper clothes for two days now. He was still in the same pajamas and shirt that he threw on after the shower yesterday.

Liam thought of a way to pass the time when a framed picture of a family on the far left wall in the room caught his eye. He grinned widely, jaw cracking due to lack of use.

He checked the time and it was just past dinner in the UK so he whipped his phone out and dialed Safaa on Skype.

It was answered quickly as a familiar wide grin filled the screen and a screeching “Bhai!” from none other than Walihya.

Liam grinned, “Hi monster, what are you doing on your sister’s cell?”

Walihya only switched to a smug grin, “I got to it first so I get to talk to you first.”

“Alright, smart arse, how’s it going there? You get the contract yet?”

His sister-in-law bit her lip nervously before answering, “No, but I’m scared I’m not gonna get it.”

Liam scoffed, if there was someone as persistent as her on a project, it would surely get done. He told her so and watched in amusement as she blushed lightly and switched back to her scream-talking.

But soon a scuffle broke out and Liam could make out heated girlish whispers as the phone jerked around violently before a sweet smile on a serene face greeted him. His little one.

“Hi Saf,” Liam all but cooed at her and watched her scrunch her nose up, just like her brother.

Safaa giggled, “I’m not 8 anymore, Bhai. You still greet me like I’m a child.”

“You are a child! You’re my itty bitty little widdle cuddle monster.” He teased her relentlessly, enjoying the sweet smile morph into a more sarcastic and deadpan look. She looked every bit as unimpressed as Zayn does when Liam wants him to wash his own socks.

“Excuse you, I’m a teenager!”

“Yeah, only sixteen!”

“Yeah, and sixteen is pretty grown up.” Safaa looked smug as she stated.

Liam laughed, “Is it really? So tell me, O wise one, what all can you do at sixteen?”

She put on a mischievous smile, “Didn’t Bhaiyya fall in love with you at sixteen?”

Liam sobered up, “Safaa, don’t go looking for that now, you’re way too young!”

But the little shit grinned widely still, “Oh so now I’m too young for this when you two were probably off shagging at – “

“Safaa!” A shout resounded from behind her and she instantly cringed as the phone was passed and Trisha appeared on the screen beside her.

A small, “Sorry, Mum” was quickly whispered as she scampered somewhere off screen, probably to her bedroom to sulk in shame. Liam felt guilty for teasing, she was a sensitive one, his Safaa, and he didn’t want to see her shamefaced like that.

He quickly greeted his mother-in-law who was smiling gently at him before he addressed the issue of his youngest sister-in-law.

With a tinkling laugh and a hand wave, his protests soon died down as she continued, “Don’t worry, darling, she’s the spoilt one, you and Zayn never let me or Yaser scold her.”

He relaxed as their conversation soon took a turn towards Liam being alone and Trisha tutted quietly at his dejected expression.

“Do you want to catch a quick one over to Bradford, jaan? You can keep us company until Zayn is done.” She offered gently, an invitation that made him feel warm in his gut and a strong sense of belonging in his veins.

He thanked her but rejected the invitation politely, he wanted to stay here and wait until his husband came back. Besides, Zayn was supposed to be here in two days.

Soon, he was hearing lectures on his unkempt appearance that he accepted with a winning grin, all the while wondering if she’d faint at the sight of the flat.

After a while, he was saying his goodbyes, a whispered, “Bye, Maa, love you” that made Trisha’s eyes shine suspiciously with tears.

The sight made him miss his own parents, who were barely a call away for Liam but he didn’t want to disturb their time at Ruth’s house, where they were probably busy doting over Ashton.

He slumped down onto their cream coloured couch, appreciating the feeling of drowning in the cushions before his stomach rumbled uncomfortably.

With a pained groan, he heaved himself up off the couch, rubbing a hand at his sore back, and made his way towards the refrigerator.

Expecting a mostly empty fridge with suspiciously old take-out food, he pulled it open and gaped in surprise at the number of Tupperware containers.

He took one container out and edged it open, sniffing at the contents and smiled surprisingly at discovering it was Zayn’s homemade Karahi chicken.

He excitedly ducked back into the fridge to find a wrapped package that turned out to be naan and moved towards the stove where he hurriedly heated everything up.

Soon, he was sat on their couch in the living room, tearing up at the taste of the familiar food. God, now he was crying over a plate of Karahi chicken. But he couldn’t help it; he missed his husband too much.

***

Liam was about to burst into tears; he was currently sat on the carpeted floor with crossed legs, facing the flat’s main door. A blanket, which Zayn favoured during cold nights, was draped over him, covering his head, shoulders and arms, pooling out onto the floor around him.

In his right hand, he clutched a well-worn shirt of Zayn’s , which used to belong to Liam but didn’t fit him anymore. In his left hand, he gripped at his cellphone, willing it to ring so that Zayn could inform him that he’d landed. He took turns every few minutes, alternating between smelling the shirt and checking his cellphone.

All he had gotten was a “On my way to the airport :)” text and in the next few hours Liam had worn a dent into their lovely carpet and had messed up the flat some more. He was pretty sure his bottom lip was threatening to wobble at this point.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he heard an electronic beep come from the door, as the red light on the door turned to green and door knob jiggled and twisted.

An excited yelp left Liam as he sat up straight, eyes wide and trained on the door as it swung open to reveal a tired but beautiful Zayn. His head faced the floor as he edged his way in, a bag on his shoulder swaying heavily that he dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

But he soon looked up and stopped short in his tracks, mouth agape at the sight of Liam on the carpet.

For some reason, Liam didn’t have the energy to get up to greet his husband because his limbs weren’t cooperating, so he stayed on the floor and continued to stare hungrily at his husband, seeing him after so long.

Zayn finally snapped out of his shock and moved towards his husband, a concerned expression evident on his face. He kneeled down in front of Liam and cupped his cheeks before whispering, “Liam, you okay, jaan?”

But Liam only made a noise that sounded a lot like ‘meep!’ and leaned into Zayn’s touch heavily, his eyes closing at the touch.

A dozen thoughts whirled through Zayn’s mind, almost all of them concerned and worried for his husband, as he stood up again, heart wrenching at the noise Liam made at the loss of touch. He reached down to hook his arms under his husband’s armpits and pulled him up and with a bit of difficulty, Liam was upright but swaying dangerously.

He nuzzled sweetly into Zayn’s neck, who accepted the warm touch but continued working to get Liam to the bedroom. It was only when he stepped aside that Zayn got a view of the flat.

It looked like Loki had run through it without supervision. The little hyper dog was privy to such behaviour which is why they only isolated him to their LA mansion or his in-laws’ house in London.

Now, Zayn gaped at the mess, couch cushions thrown on the floor, days-old dishes lining the kitchen counter and what looked like a trail of dirty clothes leading up to their bedroom.

What in the world, how did this - ?

He turned his head slightly to look at his husband who was now endearingly staring back with a dreamy expression. Liam blinked slowly at him, his eyes looking unfocused and feverish but a beautiful smile graced his soft features.

Oh no, thought Zayn as he realized he had found the culprit at last. Liam James Malik (as of 2014) was the one who had made an absolute shit of a mess of their flat, their house.

Zayn groaned internally at the sight but his worry for his husband overwhelmed any other thoughts. He needed to sort Liam out first.

Avoiding the mix of clothes and crumpled papers on the floor, he led Liam to their bedroom, kicking aside the mess to avoid either of them stumbling. He pushed Liam towards the washroom, tutting at the sight, and undressed himself before doing the same to his husband.

Liam realized in his half-sleep daze, that he was being undressed by a very naked Zayn. He giggled and patted his husband’s cheek limply before slurring out, “I like where this is going.”

Zayn huffed at him, before he bent down to slip Liam’s joggers off, before quickly leaning over and turning the hot water tap on. He gently guided Liam towards the spray who hooted adorably at the feeling of hot water touching his skin, before joining him in the spacious shower.

What was supposed to be a quick wash and rinse became a battle of limbs as Zayn continuously batted of Liam’s wandering hands and groping fingers that frankly made him blush a little. After a soapy victory, he rinsed himself and Liam off, before reaching out for the towel on the handle bar – only to find it used and slopped over near the laundry basket.

He groaned under his breath, and awkwardly hobbled his way towards their linen closet (something his mother absolutely insisted on them having) and blindingly grabbed a few towels for him and Liam.

When he went back to the washroom, he was greeted to the most adorable sight of Liam, sopping wet with hair dripping on his forehead, body leaning against the wall of the shower, seemingly asleep.

Zayn laughed gently before draping Liam with soft, fluffy towels, drying him with gentle touches and loving pecks all over his face.

Deciding to forego clothes, it was only the two of them, he all but dropped Liam onto their bed, who bounced comically once and twice on his front before going still, breathing deeply.

It was only now that Zayn finally looked around and was reminded of the mess Liam made. God, and he was the slob?

A quick text to for housekeeping to visit them the next afternoon, he too dropped heavily onto the bed, the exhaustion from the flight and taking care of Liam getting to him. Throwing a careless arm over Liam’s waist, he murmured a quiet, “Love you, jaan” (a goodnight tradition they insisted on since being married) and buried his face into a pillow, falling fast asleep.

**

Clearly Zayn was underestimating just how grateful Liam was for taking care of him and his mess, as he lay staring at the ceiling, panting heavily in the aftermath of his husband waking him up with a phenomenal blowjob. His husband lay smugly beside him before he bounded up towards the washroom, all too excited to start the day.

Zayn laughed a little hysterically before chasing Liam into the shower, intent on finishing what his husband started.

**

It was nearing noon in New York as deliciously golden rays of sunlight splashed across the floor of their living room. It bounced off the glass of the coffee table and lit up the hints of yellow in Zayn’s eyes. Liam stared intently at him, taking in the light scruff littering a delicate yet strong jaw, nose ring glinting in the sunlight, and eyelashes fluttering prettily as he looked down at his art pad on which he scribbled and scratched distractedly.

He sighed as he continued admiring his husband’s beauty, hands and arms artfully decorated with carefully chosen tattoos. The black ring sat snugly on his ring finger on the left hand, complementing the mandala. He was wearing a shirt that belonged to Liam, the neck of which was stretched out due to years of use and loose Batman boxers that were a gag gift from Niall on Liam’s 20th birthday.

Joke’s on you, Niall, he wore the shit out of them.

Zayn continued sketching oblivious to Liam’s staring, a fact Liam loved about him; whenever Zayn sat down to sketch something, anything, he was always so absorbed in his activity that he often forgot that he was maybe sat in a radio show where he was supposed to participate in an interview or even at Ashton’s Christening where he had sat for hours in front of the baby’s crib, sketching out the soft features.

Finally, Liam urged his body to move, his need to be close to Zayn overriding any other thought. He crossed the span of the living room in long strides before dropping to his knees, ignoring the little jolt Zayn gave as he finally noticed Liam.

Before he could figure out what Liam was doing, his husband lifted the loose shirt gently before unceremoniously shoving his face under it.

Zayn jumped at the sudden move, gawking at the round shape of Liam’s head under his shirt.

Okay, he had finally lost it, his darling, beautiful, intelligent husband had gone off the –

But Zayn’s internal ramblings all ground to a halt, as he felt soft lips reverently kissing the skin on his stomach, and strong, tattooed arms wound around his waist to grip possessively and hold him in place. Liam breathed in deeply as Zayn sat frozen, unsure of how to proceed.

When a minute passed and Liam’s breath stuttered as he felt those lips purse and tremble dangerously against him, Zayn laid a careful hand on his husband’s shirt covered head.

A mumbled ‘Missed you’ on his skin didn’t go unnoticed by Zayn as he finally relaxed, letting Liam do what he had to, to deal with the unnecessarily constant and painful distances between them. He hummed lightly, cherishing the feeling of lips quirked into a smile as Liam felt more than heard the vibrations of Zayn’s voice.

Yeah, he was gonna be fine now.

[dandelion-san]

In Her Honor

series: khr tags: gen, wip, one-sided K27 summary: Tsuna was born a girl.  notes: I could give you a full essay rant on the way genderbent Tsuna is potrayed in fanfic

--

Sawada Tsunayoshi is born a girl and although he is briefly disappointed, Iemitsu is mostly relieved. A daughter to dote on, he thinks. Far away from blood and mafia. Pure and innocent. His child.

“My little darling," he coos to the baby. “My tiny, itty-bitty tuna fish!”

The nurse in charge of writing the birth certificates hesitates over her name. Tsunayoshi, she mouths, brows furrowed and uncertain. This is a little scandalous, isn’t it? Out loud, she asks the couple if they are sure. After a minute of their reply, she writes the characters down, slowly and carefully.

The ink is barely dry when Iemitsu leaves for Italy.

Nana smiles distantly and thinks about nursery room colors and spinning mobiles.

--

Tsuna grows up to be a quiet and introverted child, cursed with an inherent clumsiness that leave her bruised and teary eyed. She falls over a lot. She gets her dresses torn and dirty. Her hair is perpetually messy and thick, so she ties it up in a lopsided pony-tail.

She is as cute as a button and the boys on the playground pull at her hair and clothes. When she cries, they call her a crybaby. When she tries to ignore them, they scrabble desperately for her attention.

The adults joke about adorable playground crushes. Nana dreams that her child will grow up beautiful, a perfect Yamato nadeshiko.

--

(Iemitsu came to visit once, bringing along an old man that smelled of metal. The man had looked at a little girl and saw brilliant potential. With good intentions, he lifted one finger and sealed it all away.

He had sealed her away.)

--

And it is easy to bully Tsuna. She single-handedly brings down the class average by several points. She is last on every exam. She constantly stutters whenever she is called on during class.

Awful at school, awful at sports, she isn’t good at anything except maybe for cooking of which Nana had taught her extensively on.

Tsuna is good at that stuff – cooking, cleaning, sewing.

She grits her teeth as her hand carefully concocts delicious lunches, she forces a scream down as she learns which cleaning product is the best to use, she almost cries as her hand skillfully weaves stitches, all under Nana’s watchful eyes.

Nana compliments her, sighing in relief. This is good, you can still be a good wife, Tsu-chan.

Tsuna hates it. She hates it. She hates it.

--

She sees them, those strong confident girls and wonders – why can’t I be like that.

--

When she starts middle school, it becomes worse. She can ignore the jeers and taunts of Dame-Tsuna. She has grown used to it, after all. Mostly all talk and no bite.

But the bullying. Psychological warfare at its finest. Tsuna often finds her shoes either missing or filled with needles. Her desk is consistently covered in cruel insults and drawings no matter how much she tries to wash it all away and after a while, she just gives up. She dreads P.E. because her clothes sometimes go missing and she eventually learns to keep extra uniforms. One time she is cornered and her long hair is shorn away. The adults see and do nothing. They say nothing. They smile with condescension and she learns to hate them too.

That day she skips school and spends the day at home crying. She comes back the next, hair cut short and fluffy. She doesn’t look at anyone’s eyes.

Several students are suspended, her desk replaced with a clean one.

She nods at Hibari the next time she sees him with a curt thank-you. He coolly tells her that if she skips class again, he’ll bite her to death.

--

Tsuna thinks that Hibari is one crazy sonuvabitch and she’s not the only one. Unlike others, she’s sort of okay with it because all he cares about is Namimori and rules, and bullies are against the rules. That means he doesn’t discriminate. Herbivores will be herbivores and he’ll bite them to death thoroughly. No consequence.

Well. Nobody said she was a saint.

--

But they can’t keep her away from school. She has a reason to keep living. Here is a secret: Tsuna is in love.

--

Her name is Sasagawa Kyouko and she is the sun of Tsuna’s existence.

--

Kyouko doesn’t… really stand up for her. But that’s okay! She’s perfect and Tsuna knows that if she even tries than she’ll get bullied too. Kyouko doesn’t deserve that.

She’s already so kind to Tsuna. She’s the only one who has smiled at her sincerely and asked if she was okay.

Tsuna adores her, fervently. She’s only jealous of Kurokawa who gets to be by her side every day and who had once told her that she was a weak monkey with no guts. Tsuna doesn’t let it affect her because she already knows that, but as long as she gets to see Kyouko every day, she’ll deal with it, even if it means putting up with her classmates.

Speaking of.

Tsuna tampers down her annoyance when she spots Yamamoto laughing out of the corner of her eyes. Out of everyone, she hates him the most. She hates his friends who keep asking her for dates as a joke, she hates his fangirls who are the cruelest towards her, she hates how the teachers fawn over him, and she hates him.

His sweet, smiling façade can’t fool her because she’s seen the way he looks at her when she is being bullied and so she knows that Yamamoto Takeshi is not a nice boy with his empty eyes.

Like watching scenery pass by on a train.

--

And then when Tsuna is thirteen, a baby in a suit came to her house to stay.

He shoots her and-

--

“Please,” Tsuna pleads. “Please don’t ever do that again.”

Reborn tilts his head, genuinely curious. “Why?” he asks. Tsuna trembles and tries not to cry.

She says, “I was only in my underwear. Your bullet burnt my clothes off.” She says, “You are a baby so I don’t think you get it.” She says, “Did you think it was funny?”

Then she presses her lips together in a tight line because it wouldn’t change anything to scream at a baby.

She doesn’t say, I am a girl. She doesn’t say, I am vulnerable. She doesn’t say, if you’re going to send me out like that then give me something pointy and sharp.

The baby looks at her, eyes accessing. He nods slowly. “I’m still going to have to unlock your flames,” he says after accessing her thoughtfully. “But I will not shoot you with this bullet anymore”.

She doesn’t miss the implications of this bullet – (there are more than one?! What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck) – but her relief shows visibly and the strange baby-who-is-not-a-baby kicks her in the head for that.

But goddamn, he does it. A few days after the transfer student showed up and Tsuna confessed her love to Kyouko, something warm and beautiful unlocks inside her and spreads out like the creation of a universe.

The world gains colors, her head isn’t foggy, and her body is light. The clarity of it all takes her aback and she feels like living for the first time. I am here. I am here. I exist.

The next time she looks in the mirror, her eyes look almost golden. And when she looks closer, she swears she can see fire flicking behind them.

--

“What did you do to me?” she asks Reborn, not ungratefully.

“I just unsealed your flames,” he says, casual, but there’s something smug in there.

--

Strangely enough, Yamamoto starts following her around. Gokudera yells at him to piss off and go away, like a possessive puppy.

Tsuna likes Gokudera. They’re friends, even with all this messy mafia stuff and the refusal to call her anything but the Tenth. (She’s working on it). Despite their first meeting, she’s come to understand that it wasn’t because of anything personal and he looks at her with a disbelieving expression sometimes, like he can’t believe she’s there, that she chose to accept him. Kindred souls, they are.

She said to him once, “I’ve never had a friend before,” and Gokudera had whispered back, “Me neither.” Even if he scares her sometimes, she knows that he will understand her the most.

But back to Yamamoto.

“I-is there something you want,” she mutters to him after a few days of his weird, not-stalking. They’re in an empty hallway, one of the rare times that Gokudera is not with her. She has a hand in the pocket of her skirt, thumbing at the pocket-knife Reborn had given her.

He tilts his head and considers her. “You’re interesting,” is all he says and smiles. Tsuna wants to punch it off of him. The boy who looks at her like she is nothing continues on to ask, “Do you want to be friends?”

--

Gokudera is absolutely livid when Yamamoto walks home with them.

--

Nana, predictably, coos over the guests and cooks up dinner fit for a king. Her eyes gleam as she looks at the boys and then to Tsuna. She hides a coy smile behind her hand. She looks proud.

Tsuna holds her chopsticks in a white-knuckled grip and stares at Nana with something akin to hatred. Reborn studies this mother-daughter interaction with dark beetle eyes, and hums.

--

Later, Nana asks, “So which one is your boyfriend, Tsu-chan?” She sounds like a child, excitedly clapping her hands together.

Tsuna freezes. She’s glad that Gokudera and Yamamoto have left, though there is a small worry in the back of her mind that Gokudera lives in a box or something.

“They’re just friends,” she says. “I don’t even like any of them that way.”

“You’re young, you’ll eventually find those feelings.” Nana sighs dreamily. “Why, when I met Iemitsu, my stomach was fluttering so much and my heart was going, boom boom! You will understand it too, someday.”

Tsuna thinks of Kyouko.

Nana says, “Come here, Tsuna. I have a new recipe to teach you! When you become a wife, it is good to always have a variety in case your husband gets bored.” She continues chattering, heading off to the kitchen as a distant haze seems to settle around her.

No, Tsuna wants to scream. She follows.

--

It’s not like she hates cooking, she explains to Reborn later. He tilts his head in response. A prompt to continue.

She tries to find her words, to describe what it is that makes her mouth fill with blood. “It’s the ‘why’s’,” she finally decides. “She is training me to be like her.” Her eyes blaze. Determination. “I don’t want to be like her. A good wife.”

Reborn smirks. “Then don’t.”

And that’s it, isn’t it? Don’t.

“Never,” she swears and Reborn approves.