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katekyo-hitman-aus · 6 years

Text

au where Skull, Fong, and Reborn know each other beforehand

It was a tiny little baby in Fong’s arms. It was cute. And it was a monster, Fong decided as he tossed the baby to it’s mother. A high pitched shriek sounded from all the surrounding females of his life. Fong realized women were the most dangerous and could probably kill him by accident.

He sweated when he felt his mother’s stare behind him, her naturally long nails almost clawing Fong’s neck. Where was his father????

Yi-Sheng clicked her teeth in disapproval at Fong’s actions. Fong received many fan smacks the moment the purple baby was here.

Hours later, Fong was stuck with Changying, a girl who was only 11 months old and somehow liked him unlike other people.

The boy was pretty sure Changying was mad at him-as mad as a purple baby could get. But then when she saw Fong play with the other cousins, she cooed and banged her arms on the high chair for Fong. She could barely say anything in chinese except for Fong and fried dumplings. But she grew to be even more adorable, much to Fong’s horror. He didn’t need his friends picking on his little sister! He and Changying were considered the closest pair of cousins and doted on each other.

For example, they’d fall asleep over stupid shows and try to explore the streets of the city only for Fong to get wrecked by his own father and Changying quickly wailed when Fong got a bashing or two from their family.

Fong has never been so thankful for Changying. She was the one who’d always cry over her big Brother aka him, it literally changed his life. Life in this shitty shack never seemed better. And he’d eventually got the chance to learn martial arts for his crybaby cousin. Changying cried even more and he panicked.

But turns out it was tears of joy because Changying could actually defend herself. She couldn’t really fight though aside from knocking people out in one blow so Fong got even more tough training.

As years passed by, Fong and Changying both grew more subdued as a result of all the politics surrounding their family and eventually separated. Both still managed to find each other without saying anything though. 10 years later, Changying is back home with a wilted look in her pink jade eyes and dark hair that is roughly cut up to her shoulder blades.

Fong is wincing from all the deep bruising he’s received from his masters. Fong is now 14 years old.

He doesn’t notice her due to all the stinging cuts on his hands until a broken cry screams in rage. Fong’s eyes widen and all is not okay. Fong slumps his way to hug Changying, his rage boiling as he realizes that she is even more malnourished than he was at the age of 10 and that was when he was surviving on scraps.

“Big Brother! Who did this to you?” She cries, her head still pounding from the Man.

Fong grimly smiles and gently rubs off the dirt of her hands. Changying looks at him with narrowed eyes, a bit puffy from all the crying in the rain she did.

“No one but me.” “Bu-but-” “No one.”

That was the most scary Fong has been. Changying sniffles and buries her face into his stomach. Her stomach growled as she looks away.

“You seem hungry. Sit down.” He smiles. She knows that was a command.

She looks at the table, trying not to frown but does it when Fong gives her a warm bowl of soup. She smiles weakly at Fong and Fong scolds her for eating too fast.

“All you do after that is throw it back up Ying. Your stomach isn’t that prepared to eat a lot of food like you used to.” Fong spoonfeeds her the herbal soup, hands shaking.

Absentmindedly, she knows this isn’t right– it’s all messed up, she nearly chokes on the soup. But the China she knew years ago is forever gone. Fong puts down the spoon in order to feed himself too. Both siblings are suffering and they each tell their tale.

Changying’s been sold by her school teacher in order to make dues to the Chinese trade of slaves. Her owner let her loose when she couldn’t do anything within the first month and beat her. She had a friend but he died and had been fed to the wolves. Changying watched in a gilded cage in horror, tryng to break free and save him.

Her fingers burned as the wolves ate their last dinner and got shot with a short pistol. Nothing went right until she freed herself due to newbie guards. One of them pitied her enough to have 5 minutes of freedom. She went back to her house but she couldn’t find anything. The new residents just glared at her in fury and scorn.

She lowered her head into her knees and listened to Fong. Fong didn’t know how to start it but eventually, he told her everything.

“Mom and dad were killed. And then I joined the Underworld.” Changying looked at him, mortified for Fong and clung on to him as he reapplied his wrappings on his knees and patted Changying on the head.

“Fong! What happened to them?” She couldn’t believe it.

“Ying, they were pulled into some mafioso territory and got shot to death. No one even attended their funeral thanks to some threats I heard on the streets. But then I got thrown out onto the streets and started working for some Triad member. He’s dead now…” His voice got slightly distant. “Now I’m up to par with the spoiled brats that have more muscle mass and food. Of course I can kick their ass, I’m the disciple of one of the strictest tutors and this is him going easy.”

Changying’s eyes widened but she still furrowed her brows. “But what if they make you do something dangerous??? Like a suicide mission.” Her heart skipped a beat when she imagined it.

No home. Cue her hyperventilation.

A few hours later, she peacefully slept on the dirty mattress as Fong put on his slightly damp clothes on with a pair of new shoes (3 months??? He cleaned it everyday) and new socks that help him feel warmer at the speed he usually goes at in order to attend each Trial.

“Good night, Ying.” He gently placed a western coat over her shoulders.

On this foggy night, Fong could see a bonfire and drugs placed everywhere. He blanched when one of the newbies showed up with a bunch of illegal firecrackers in his pants.

The man bursts into sparks, howling in joy from the adrenaline. Fong angrily curses him out and everyone stares at Fong in amazement until Fong gets his face all bloodied by knuckledusters.

The other cronies laugh in a hypocritical way, stepping away from the leader with rapid steps and almost pissing their pants in one way or another. Fong tries to retaliate and happens to catch both arms but then Changying’s name is shouted. He slowly turns back-

He’s taken off guard and his face is buried into the dirt with 3 pairs on hands on his shoulders and hands.

Fong grit his teeth to stop himself from lashing against Triad members who caught word of his cousin’s arrival.

They jeer at him til morning comes and he is so tired, his braid isn’t even held in place anymore and it’s the one thing he thought they couldn’t mess up.

Changying opens the door the next morning to goad Fong into sleeping as she roughly rubs off the dark spots of dirt off his face and chest.

Changying pauses to get a new towel when she looks closer near his collarbone and sees a branding.

The world shakes even more as she finds more markings. Not her big Brother. Her fingernails grow exponentially longer with a tint of purple in the roots of her fingers.

She’s gone in an instant, stomping all around town to find the nearest Triad newbies; they slunk towards her, smelling like her previous…owner. She quickly scratches their eyes out, smiling when they cry as soon as her claws reach their collarbones and sets their shirt on fire.

That’s not much. By the end of everything, they’re curled up on the ground in pain, some even slowly rotting and the leader of it all is just sobbing and she could see his snot as he begs for her to stop everything.

Changying stops and he cries gratefully, spitting at those dying. But then it’s too late to save him as she strangles him slowly and throws him into the lid of an abandoned trash can. Most of the survivors are in a mess of blood and hide as soon as Fong smiles at them coldly when they recover in the hospital.

The Triads are pissed and instantly confront Fong about this for a large amount of time. Each time Fong smiles and says no, something always tackling the main confronter, mainly a few girls that grew fond of Changying’s skittish behaviour but eager affection when caught off guard. The butchers on the corner spit on the Triad’s fancy coats and Fong all welcomes them with poison dripping needles.

Fong instantly gains more power and Changying is thankful for all the towels and hygiene products they own and can trade with the other neighbourhoods for.

Changying eventually learns how to shop on her own when Fong is busy on a mission with the girls in a human trafficking ring. It’s a bit scary but the grumpy Italian man helps her. Her pink eyes flash a thank you in morse code.

He insists on showing her how to haggle with the perm haired ladies and balding grandfathers and shitty people. Changying grins and bows, her bag of goods in his hand.

“Want me to walk you home??”

Changying hopes Big Brother isn’t home yet and agrees. Ying doesn’t learn much besides he’s from South Italy but she barely knows where Italy is and just comments on how interesting he was. And she was telling the truth for once.

“It was nice meeting you, Renato!”

Renato tips his hat as a good bye and shoves the bags into her arms while he holds the rusty door open for her. “No problem little miss-” he dodges the incoming fist that is from a darkly smiling Fong.

“Renato.” “Fong.”

They both dance in the air, Renato cursing as he left all his weapons behind save for a smokescreen and Renato is backed into the corner but sweeps Fong’s knee with his right leg.

Fong is taken over for a few seconds and instantly stable once again when Changying screams bloody murder and throws the goddamn teacups at both males like she was a profession at shotput or something.

“Get in here.” She calmly smiles at the two. They both glance at each other, dubious. She glares once again.

They have no choice and they’re pushed into the tiny house. She inhales, smile twitching like her left eyebrow.

“Why the hell are YOU TWO FUCKING FIGHTING? FOR FUCKS SAKE FONG YOU JUST FOUGHT THE MAN THAT HELPED ME SHOP FOR OUR FOOD AND RENATO THATS MY COUSIN GOD DAMMIT. You’re all pissing me off.” Changying sighs and stabs her juice box so hard it nearly exploded.

…well then.

Fong and Renato both glance at each other, slightly disturbed by an angry Changying. Two bowls of fish land on their heads as she laughs her ass off.

“Considering I’m 14 and both of you are like what… 18-20?? Shouldn’t you guys be mature? You sound like you’ve met each other anyways. Tell me how you met.”

Renato and Fong never tell her that they were both assassinating a corrupt tea house lady that had a flesh eating chihuahua with 3 heads….

They hope Ying never finds out and 2 weeks later Renato visits yet again for the nth time.

Fong tries to shut him out but Ying’s broom gets in the way and she has a saucer of black coffee for him and white tea for her and Fong. Not much happens aside from jabs at each other and dark glares while Changying isn’t looking.

She usually gets used to it unless they ruin her books or any type of curtains. That shit is expensive my friend and she refuses to use Fong’s money. Changying is a bit stingy about that and insistent incase something bad happens in general and they needed the money.

Then it became worse when Renato started handing over wads of cash and Fong smirked at the exchange as Changying grew more done with her two big brother figures.

“Renato! Stop giving me money! I have enough so you should stop handing over your money or else you’ll go broke!”

“Darling, this is nothing compared to what my clients give me after my missions.”

“Missions?”

“Fong didn’t tell you?? I’m an independent hitman who has a decent footing with the people. I get brownie points too, you doof.”

Changying pouts but nods in agreement. “I’ve heard of the Triads doing that. Are you Mafia??”

“Si.”

“That’s yes right?”

“Yes, little one.” Reborn smiles in amusement before his phone goes off. He groans and kisses her on the forehead.

“Yes?” Reborn places his hand on his hip. Changying muffles her giggle into her mouth as Renato continues to sigh dramatically and swing his hips.

“Sorry little one, I gotta go thanks to a personal client.”

“Renato!” “Yeah?”

“You may be a killer, but at least you have more morals than some of the civilians I’ve met. Stay safe.. big brother!” She kisses his chin because she’s too short but still. It’s the thought that counts.

Renato walks out, inwardly realizing how adorable Changying is with her light pink eyes and a row of yellow or blue flowers in her purple flowy hair. And it’s natural.

Fong nods in understanding as Renato breaks down in the middle of the road, screaming obscurities to himself while everyone’s at the market. The locals at the shop laugh behind their backs, nodding in approval at Changying’s choices. The old ladies babble about how good of a boyfriend Renato would be. The old men grumble and pout as they scale the fish.

“We have to protect Changying….I understand why you ended up almost murdering me the first time I saw her. She’s a lot more innocent than most girls.”

Thus the protect Changying squad was formed.

Both of them were gone for a year. That was when Changying got into the most troublesome job, in Fong and Renato’s opinion.

Changying finished all her chores and hummed to herself, taking a decorative knife with her. She glanced at the mirror, covering it up with a striped piece of clothing. The house is so dark that you can barely spot the trap wires and she maneuvers herself around the colorful wires and jump over the round rug right below the ceiling.

“Morning Ying!” A boyish girl laughs at her as she squeals and the door shuts loudly. Changying glares at her.

“Jia!”

Jia laughed again, tightly gripping Changying’s bicep, successfully dragging her all the way in the middle of town. Changying sighed and took a seat next to an old lady. Pink eyes met playful dark blue eyes.

The brunette smiled at Changying, her slanted bangs covering one of her eyes, “Hey! Hey! Did you hear about the local Chinese folks tryna make a circus?”

Changying perks up at the unfamiliar word. Circus?

“Ehhhh?? Chanyi, you’ve never heard of a circus before??”

“Haha, no.” Changying blushes and smiles sheepishly. “I never really did anything really fun with people and I couldn’t do much by myself. I get lost easily haha.”

Jia frowns thoughtfully and decides, “I’m going to take you to it now! They’ve been practicing for a bit now. Maybe you can take some inspiration from it for your traps.”

Changying hums happily as she is once again, dragged for a while, mind racing to a certain time.

(Jia was her new friend she met by accident. She was Russian and Chinese, new in the town. Changying wouldn’t know what to do without Jia. Changying was a recluse after her brother figures left her. At first she refused but Jia dodged her traps. Now they work together to make things a lot harder for her asshole brother figures and thieves. Changying was so amazed by Jia’s enthusiam that they both did actual research on optical illusions and traps.)

Changying yelped as Jia hopped forward, lifting her legs up in a bridal style, dodging all the people screaming at them and 5 minutes later, she was able to focus on all the Chinese music bouncing off the streets and a red lantern floating over her. Children screaming around her ears,

Changying sighed and avoided all the people running all over the roads. Soon, an overwhelming sight greeted her as she pushed through the crowds of people and paper curtains everywhere. Her eyes widened when she saw the tent of circus performers. They looked so pretty!

Her eyes sparkled and Jia covered her eyes, trying not to get blinded.

A few days later; Changying slowly warmed up to the people, albeit shyly, and the others welcomed her.

A few weeks later, Changying was already part of the circus tent, slowly crawling onto a Liger. Her back arched slightly as she put the crown of bells on the Liger. She whimpered when the Liger growled, slightly shaking its body but Changying was immediately off the liger.

She smirked and took the sack of money from grumbling man in the back of the room. The liger didn’t care about them and just stared at Changying. She quickened her pace before anything else happene-

The door slammed, an angry dark skinned woman stomping her way over to the area, screaming for no reason and then the Liger ate her.

Everyone screamed bloody murder.

Well.

That was a thing, Changying smiled nervously. One of the acrobats patted her on the shoulder, replacing her blood stained sweater with a black and red cloak while smiling at her casually.

“Don’t worry about anything! Our animals eat a lot more flesh than normal people. But they recognize people’s behaviour and are designed to eat those who get in the way. We’re probably one of the most dangerous but safest in the area.”

Changying sighed, thinking to herself as they dressed her in accessories.

Of course Jia has to choose the most dangerous circus… I might as well join the chaos. Changying snapped back to reality and grinned with shark teeth.

Jia yelped, dropping her whip and red flats. She looked at the strange aura her friend emitted and tiptoed away with her belongs to the backstage.

“Jia~”

“YING WHAT THE FUC-” Jia got slapped

“Language!” Changying wagged her finger at Jia, who was fucking terrified. Who knew her best friend could travel 40 yards within the blink of an eye?

After Jia’s slight heart attack, they both got ready and Changying tightened her and Jia’s hairbuns and stuck in tiny pins.

Later that night, it was a successful show. Changying was a stunt performer who dabbled in fire acrobatics and Jia introduced everyone and was one of the many people who pulled out volunteers for several events.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for the show and we’d like to give out one more prize for 2 volunteers!” A huge amount of hands instantly waved to Jia, wanting something.

Jia grinned and yanked out an Italian man and the other man in a pure red chinese top. The Italian was fluent in Chinese and talked with the other man. Jia’s smile was a bit strained since they ignored her but then she yelped as Changying kicked her ribs softly.

“Changyi!!!” Jia whined, rubbing her sore stomach.

“Jiaaaaaa!” Changying giggled, secretly glaring at the two volunteers, as she hugged Jia. Jia blinked.

“You know them two?”

“Of course! They’re the big brother figures I talked about! The one in red is Fong and the one in black is Renato.”

Jia just gave the giant box of mooncakes and coin chocolate to both of them and announced the show’s end. Most people didn’t want to leave but then Jia swung her whip at the stubborn Triad members. Jia smirked as they squealed like babies.

“Jiaaa. Was it that neccessary?? Besides, I think they were flirting with the wrong girl.”

The brunette stared at her in disbelief, slowly twitching. “You’re the only girl who’s shorter than most people and you have purple hair and glow in the dark flower crowns….. I’m pretty sure they knew it waas you.”

Fong and Renato gave the trio of Triad members a death stare. They all shivered. Changying just smiled mysteriously.

“I’m sure there’s another girl!” She reasoned. “Maybe they thought I was new and wanted to help me…???”

“Just don’t.” Fong, Jia, and Renato’s voices deadpanned at Changying. When the brothers came home earlier, they were surprised by a bunch of pressure tile traps and etc. The whole house looked like a mess until Changying arrived and set the house on purple fire.

“How are you doing that??” Renato and Fong gaped.

“Oh uh…I may have almost died and apparently I have dying will flames…. Jia told me. She’s also part of the mafia like you two.”

Renato rolled his eyes and hugged Changying tightly. Fong waited for his turn.

They were all tired as fucK.

(notes: Skull is obviously Changying and she’s cousins with Fong. She’s an acrobat and that is a heart attack inducing occupation but as long as she’s happy and not dead, Renato and Fong are okay with it.Changying(skull)’s parents were dosed with mist flames when Changying got sold. They themselves have forgotten they had a family and the both split up, feeling distorted in their relationship. Renato is the 2nd heir to a mafioso family but ensures that he won’t become the head due to heavy security provided by his allies that he asked (blackmailed). He’s made it his goal to become a famous hitman. His old teacher used to be one of the best even if he was a spartan tutor. Renato has the personality of a brother who gives no shits about what he says in front of old ladies.Fong and Renato often meet each other by accident and they hate each other so much until Changying(skull) makes them get along due to existing :)Jia is just a random background character that’s a very sneaky lady. She’s slightly older than Changying and has an obsession for cute things. Changying doesn’t know this thankfully. Jia may or may not keep every article that Changying has given her throughout the year. Jia is a scholar and went here on a whim. She’s very rich but very cheap about many things excluding food or necessities.and Changying is very very innocent as stated in this au fic. Not much to say about the cinnamon roll except that she could kill people if she wanted to but she has too much self restraint and would have the strength of a marshmallow if not for her acrobatics regime along with helping everyone in her neighbourhood out. She stronk lmao. Only bends over for people she really likes. Knows like people who see her everyday and won’t remember the time she accidentally saved an important man’s life and got a bunch of raises in her old job. Has the best luck in the world when it comes to shoot outs in China. She nearly died thanks to a bullet and that’s how she ended up activating purple flames. thank you for readingggggggg :DDDDD)ps: idk why I do this lmaooo. Fem skull is one of my aesthetics :)

#Skull Fon and Reborn Meet First AU #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #katekyo hitman aus #reborn khr #skull khr #fon khr #katekyo hitman fics #fem!skull #submission

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pendivamesh-blog · 6 years

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Prologue

Should.

Kill.

Him?

That was the reoccurring question constantly plaguing my every thought. I love him so much that I hate him. I hate him. No, I’m lying, I love him. It just kills me inside to have to sit back and watch him be happy with a woman that isn’t me, especially after all the things Yuri had done to ruin my life. If it weren’t for his selfishness, I’d be happily married, with children of my own, living my best life. He’s to blame… for everything.

Uncaringly, he destroyed every relationship I had, long before many could ever be thought of. And because of him, true happiness never seemed to drift my way. I’m cursed, cursed for loving a man who only loved himself.

Placing the almost empty Remy bottle to my lips, I chugged until I couldn’t breathe, my mind flipping and twisting, twisting and flipping every which way it could. I was mentally drained, angry, and flat out tired of him flaunting his perfect life in my face as if I meant nothing to him.

Frustration rumbled like thunder in my chest as I drank, and I drank, and I drank some more. And the saddest portion was that I had everything, but absolutely nothing at all. At least nothing worth living for. None of the earthly possessions in the entire world could fill the gargantuan hole of emptiness plaguing my heart. I had tried everything, and I do mean everything to forget about the love we once shared. It was beautiful. I must admit.

Internally, I was going batshit crazy. I had to do something, anything, anything I could to make me feel better. It was time Yuri knew just how I felt. My volatile emotions had been bottled for far too long. I kept quiet, the silence of it all, screaming through my agony, forever torturing me as my sentiments pleaded with me to be released. Depression, I fought it time and time again. This had to be the reason, the reason I couldn’t hold onto anything else. The reason my insecurities sometimes get the best of me. The reason I—can’t—move—on.

I drunkenly stood to my feet, my inebriated state ailing my movements as I stumbled forward. Hurriedly, I latched onto the wall for support, catching myself before I could fall. As I tried to stand straight, my thick, toned legs were wobbly, my eyes were low-slung, and antagonism warped my pleasantly soft features as I could do nothing but think of him.

“Look what he made me do. This shit is freaking unbelievable,” I giggled intoxicatedly, knocking over an empty pint of liquor as I snatched an unopened bottle of Remy and my keys from the dresser.

On the way out the room, I passed by a mirror and had to double back to inspect myself. My hair shot up to the sky, matted, frizzy, and brittle, much like I felt inside. My old, worn, tee shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, and the shorts I wore had a giant hole near the butt. These were my lucky dance clothes, and the only thing I could find before I started to get drunk. Glancing down at my legs, they were so ashen one could’ve mistaken them for two oversized, battered drumsticks, ready to be fried in grease. And on my feet, I had no shoes, but fuck it. I had to go before I changed my mind.

Heading toward the front door, I grabbed my bag off the kitchen table and rushed outside to my car without locking up behind me. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if the door was closed. Once inside my vehicle, I started the engine and cut the radio up to the max. Of all the songs that could’ve been played, Can’t Let Go by Anthony Hamilton, pumped from the speakers taunting me, and the waterworks really started.

Agonizing tears begrudgingly poured from my eyes. I was so weary I felt my soul cry. Pressing the pedal to the metal, I back out of my yard. I swerved in and out of lanes, sped through red, traffic lights, rode the tails of cars moving too slow for my liking. Luckily for me, it was riding close to 3 a.m. so the coast was almost clear.

In less than fifteen minutes, I turned on two wheels onto his street, almost jumping out the car in front of his trap before the vehicle could come to a complete stop. When I realized I was moving too fast, I took a moment to gather my composure. Slowing my pace for a few ticks, I threw the car in park. I jumped out of my vehicle, leaving the keys in the ignition, but doubled back to grab my bag and the bottle I had almost emptied on the way over. As I attempted to step on the curb, my feet slipped, and I almost busted my ass for the second time tonight, but I recovered. Oh, yes, I did. Nothing could stop me.

I stomped up the steps, my legs feeling as though they weighed one-thousand pounds as I banged on the door. Yuri’s car was parked out front, so I knew that son of a bitch was in there. “Yuri, Yuri, bring your ass out here,” I sluggishly screamed as I continued to knock.

When no one answered fast enough for my liking, I tettered backward, down the steps so I could check to make sure I was at the right house. Yuri had brought me there once before, so the place would forever be etched in my mind. After glancing up at the toward the small space between the roof and the door, and seeing the address number, I knew I was at the correct location. Growing angrier because Yuri still hadn’t come out, I aimed the bottle at the entrance before I sent it soaring through the air. It landed on the door with a loud boom, glass flew everywhere, then the pieces dropped to the concrete, shattering instantly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Yuri asked, snatching the door open. His shirt was off, tatted chest exposed, rippled abs calling my name, muscles flexing with each movement. “Have you lost your god damn mind? You can’t just pop up at my crib whenever you want to because you having a meltdown. What if my girl was here? How the fuck would I explain this shit?”

“Fuck you, fuck herrrr, and fuck yo house you dirty son of a bishhhhhhh,” I shakingly pointed my thin, freshly manicured, finger, my uncontrollable body wobbling from on side to the other. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” I chanted, spit flying, foam gathering in the corners of my mouth as I spoke.

Yuri’s head whipped back and forth, his eyes scurrying the area before they landed on me. “Look, I need you to calm down. You got to chill before somebody call the police.”

“I ain’t got to do shit with ya nasty ass. Bitch, I’m gon’ be as loud as I fucking wanna be out here!” I shouted, my arms raised as I twirled around so anyone that was looking could see me.

Yuri stepped onto the porch, glass crunching under his feet as he moved toward me. His eyes formed slits as he studied me, gazing into red, watery eyes.

“Zuri, are you drunk?” he quizzed, frowning his nose as the stink of hard liquor seeped from my pores.

“Don’t fucking worry about me. You don’t care. You never cared. All you do is think about yourself.”

“Mannn,” he sucked his teeth, shaking his head with disgust. “If you don’t get your drunk ass in here so I can call you an Uber, we gon’ have problems. Why the fuck would you drive like this?” he chastised, reminding me of how he used to do me as a kid.

“Didn’t I say don’t worry about me, muthafucka? You hard of hearing?”

Yuri snatched me by the front of my shirt, bumping me with his hard chest. “I don’t give a fuck how close we once were. If you keep being disrespectful, I’m gon’ fuck you up. Now, I said to lower your fucking voice,” he sneered, his low tenner full of authority, scaring me enough to dig inside my bag.

“Fuck the police, and fuck you toooo,” I replied as my fingers tightly wrapped around the item I had been searching for.

Yuri’s expresso face, contorted in rage as he took a giant step toward me. “I said, calm the fuck down,” he roared, causing me to jump, and jerked from his grasp as I wielded my gun.

Taking giant steps backward, my unsteady hand aimed at Yuri’s chest. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll blow your fucking brains out. I came to talk, and you gone list to meeeeee,” I screamed, tears rapidly falling from my eyes.

Yuri’s hands shot in the air, but he swiftly lowered them as his eyes traveled from my face to the pistol, pain shouting from his expression. “You pulled a gun on me, on me of all people, me, Yuri?” he asked with disbelief while he pounded his bulging chest.

Nodding, I used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe the snot coming from my nose. “Yeah you, you, Yuri, you! It was you that did this to me. It was you that hurt me. It was you that messed up any chances I had at having a happy life. I loved you with everything in meeeee,” I cried, on the verge of breaking down completely. Sniffing, I quickly gathered myself. He didn’t deserve to see me break.

“Ever since I was a little girl, I did nothing but love you, love you with all my heart and soul. I gave you everything I had, wanted to make it work, and even tried. But while you were stopping me from finding true love, you were loving on somebody else. How could you? How could you do that to me?” I quizzed, gun trembling in my hand as I pointed it toward his head. I needed to know. Today was the day Yuri had to tell me something, something appeasing enough for me to move forward.

After hearing what I had to say, Yuri's expression instantly softened, and mist rimmed his eyes.

“Zuri, please, just put the gun down and let’s talk. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything,” Yuri apologized as he took small steps in my direction.

“I don’t believe you,” I replied, shaking my head wildly, my frazzled hair bouncing everywhere.

“You got to. You know me, Zuri. You know me better than anybody else,” he took another step closer.

Hearing that, something inside me snapped. If I were the person who knew him better than anyone, then why the fuck did he think the shit he did was okay? He should know me too. Right?

“Step back, don’t come no fucking closer. I’m not playing with you, Yuri,” I screamed, my finger gently tapping the trigger.

“Nah, fuck that. I’m wrapping my arms around you, and if you truly don’t want me to touch you, then shoot. Stop me dead in my tr—” was all Yuri got to say before I pulled the trigger.

POW!

Damn, look at where loving my supposed to be best friend had driven my sanity. Fuck, let me start from the beginning.

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pisati · 5 years

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I suppose it's a product of the society we live in, but I feel messed up in some ways for not wanting my own children. Not liking babies, not even really thinking they're cute. Being terrified of pregnancy. I almost wish I could be 'normal' about it, in the same way I sometimes wish I could be 'normal' about sexual attraction and drive. It would make things so much less complicated, feels like. I looked it up. Just a few scattered articles about women who don't want children (some of which say "it's perfectly normal!"). A lot of the justifications some of these women give are... honestly really pretentious. Some of these people just think babies are plain gross. And they can be; they're little poop machines, they puke, they blow mucus everywhere... but I saw one article that was like "they're gross and inconsiderate and selfish" like... fucking duh? They're infants. They don't know how to control their bodily functions quite yet and they don't know how else to communicate their needs. "You're a baby. You have nothing to do. If you're tired, just sleep instead of crying about it" like how fucking stupid are y'all? Have you ever tried falling asleep when you're tired but your brain just won't let you? Did it occur to you that infants have to learn things as basic as the concept of object permanence, and maybe they cry when they're tired because they just don't know what else to do about it? Being tired fucking sucks. Even at 25 I sometimes get so tired I want to cry. Fuck off. And "inconsiderate"?? As if babies have even the slightest concept of "considerate"? They are wired to survive. To need their parents to provide for them. That is what they know how to do. "Considerate" is learned. God. Those things are not an issue I really have with babies. I get kind of secondhand embarrassed when babies do stupid things, but I understand they're learning. I get super grossed out by the idea of diaper blowouts and spit-up and faces covered in snot and every food they try to ingest, but... I know if that were my child it'd be a little easier to deal with. I'm fine with my pets' bodily functions, I don't see why, if I loved something enough, it should really be a problem. Some people don't get that. But they say they love their pets in a way they don’t care for children; makes me wonder how they actually treat them. Some people think babies are life-ruiners, but of course they're going to be if they're not wanted, you absolute fucking morons. They are work. Some women love being a mom but hate motherhood, and that's understandable. Some people don't want to give up their careers, because honestly, raising children is a full-time job in itself. Babies maybe won't ruin your life's work, but they certainly can derail it and be a weight you have to carry around for a lifetime. Not everyone is ready to commit to that. But that's not an issue I seem to have with them either. If I wanted them, they'd be worked into my future plans. It wouldn't be ruining my life if that was the way I wanted my life to go, you know? The people that think it's the worst thing that could happen to their career... shouldn't have them, lmao. Those kids are going to grow up knowing they're resented. Knowing that you had things you wanted to do with your life, until they came along. They're going to feel like a burden on you, and you’ll probably take out your regret on them at some point. Your feeling like you "need" to have a child because of societal expectations doesn't trump the wellbeing of the child you're bringing into this world. There's the tantrums. The crying, the screaming, the not listening to reason. That's one thing I can actually agree with. I can't deal with babies crying. Some say that the cry of a baby draws people in; it makes mothers want to go to them and comfort them. I have the opposite reaction. I hear a baby crying, I want to get far away from it. I don't think I'd be very good at perceiving a baby's needs. They wouldn't stop crying, I'd get impatient and frustrated. You can't reason with a crying infant, you have to find the off switch by guessing at which needs aren't being met. I wouldn't be able to deal with tantrums or an indignant child, but I feel like any child of mine would know better than to give me the business. Who knows, though? Who knows what I'd end up with? I was a good kid. Afraid of consequences, sensitive, obedient, for the most part, if not a little stubborn (ok, very stubborn). What if my kid was the exact opposite? What if no matter how much love I gave them, no matter how attentive I tried to be towards their needs, no matter how many lessons I tried to teach them, they ended up a little brat? A gigantic asshole? God forbid, a white supremacist or some other horrible thing? Sometimes people really do their best and still it doesn't matter.

I just. I don’t have those instincts towards babies. I really don’t. I wish I did, sometimes. But that’s just not how I was wired. They scare me too, possibly because of unfamiliarity, but more because I don’t have the energy or the money to be as good of a parent as I’d want to be for an infant. I do think I have maternal instincts though. I know I try to take good care of my rats and I love caring for them. Spoiling them, making sure they have what they need, making sure they're happy and healthy. I can't see myself ever not having pets. But by that same token... just thinking about it. I've been saying for a while now that I think my maternal instincts are misdirected towards animals instead of humans (ha ha), but I don't think that's actually true. My heart breaks for older children in the foster system-- older children being kids that aren't babies. Any child in the foster system, of course, but I’m more drawn personally to the older ones. Kids that have known abusive parents or never even knew who their parents were, kids that grew up in foster care, bouncing from place to place, knowing they don't really have a family. Children have a lot of needs growing up, and emotional needs are a big one that people sometimes overlook. Kids can get hurt, bad. They feel a lot of things, and deeply. I remember being a kid myself, and I was always one to feel things extraordinarily strongly. I remember dad got me two Polly Pocket sets for.. maybe my birthday one year. And I'd thrown out the little plastic insert that one of them was packaged with-- you know, just opening a box, discarding the packaging. And I realized later that the insert would've been perfect for keeping the little rubber doll pieces organized, and the regret over having thrown it out hurt so bad I cried. Like... kids are growing and they're complicated and I can't even imagine having that made harder by parents or lack thereof. Knowing that kids are growing up in those conditions makes me want to take them in. Like my friend’s family, who’s taken in a whole bunch of foster kids and adopted them all. I'd want to bring a child home, and let them know that this is their home and would always be their home. Give them some stability on a fundamental level. Show them love they may not have received yet. Do their hair, have little makeover days, movie nights, game nights, craft nights. Surprise them with things they like, watch their face light up knowing they're listened to and cared about. Listen to them talk about their interests, try to guide them towards things that make them happy; spark that interest and let them explore and grow; not try to mold them any way I think they should be. Help them with homework, work through problems together, because lord knows I'd probably struggle with some of them too. Hope they'd trust me enough to come to me with emotional issues-- not like how I could never talk to my mom about boys. Try to help them heal from whatever trauma they may have experienced. I don't know how I'd handle behavioral issues, if that were to happen, but I know the best course of action is educating myself and trying to be understanding. I do think I'd be a good mother. Just not to an infant, lmao When I was still in school, I'd let my rats run around my apartment during playtime. I'd leave my plastic shopping bags on the floor in the kitchen once I'd put groceries away, because I knew Jay liked to hoard them under my couch. And sometimes I'd take my phone flashlight and look around under there at the mess he made. I wouldn't touch it (until cleaning day came, usually, or unless there was a receipt I realized I needed). I'd just look at the organized chaos his little rat brain told him to create. I was witnessing the physical manifestation of his personality-- something he created himself. He put those bags right where he wanted them, and I could hear him rustling around down there sometimes, arranging them how he liked. He would grab mouthfuls of food and stash them in piles under the couch too, in specific places. I think I'd be the type of person to do the same for a child. I couldn't ever tell them what to do or how to be, necessarily. I'm sure I'd just marvel at anything they created; anything their mind produced. I'd want to know them for them, and love them just the same, even if they were nothing like me. Hell, I'd probably be happy if they were nothing like me (in some regards). Reminds me of that scene from Ladybird. I just. I wish that you liked me. Of course I love you. But do you like me? I want you to be the very best version of yourself that you can be. But what if this is the best version? Parks & Rec: I love you and I like you. One day I'll be able to say that. I hope.

#don't know what prompted this one #maybe tv; maybe some posts I scrolled past #I need to learn to be more honest with myself #stop drawing such hard lines #especially where none need to be drawn #it always seems like 'all or none' with this kind of thing #either you want them or you don't-- at all-- ever #but that's just not the way it is sometimes #I'm learning to acknowledge that and the fact that it's okay to feel like this #mostly just relieved that there are people that are WAY bigger assholes about it #people that think they're better than others because they don't have kids.... need to shut the fuck up lmao #cool if it's not the thing for you but maybe cool your jets about other people's choices #and the fact that-- yes-- sometimes other people's choices in that regard will encroach upon your lifestyle #like I can't wait to never be pregnant or have to deal with an infant #but I........ actually think I could one day do the mom thing #I could definitely see it as enriching and a positive addition to my life #and hopefully equally as if not more beneficial for the kid #girl's got a heart after all

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