#he just NEEDS to be there for everyone. he needs to fulfill that burning hatred and pit in himself and helping other people quells that down

[suusoh]

actualllyyyyyy johann more likely and guilty of coddling and doting on you. because of his self-sacrificial tendencies and messiah complex. you open your own car door and he twitches and has to bite his down his cheek to stop his protest of letting him do everything for you.

[raytoebiter]

xv. young blood spills tonight (written work)

It's a really, really beautiful fucking day. That's no doubt. Like, at all.

Why's that, you ask?

Well, simply because the endless sea above you is winking at the little organisms with their clear blue skies devoid of the usual cotton white. Then, there’s also the breeze that has been blessing (bugging) everyone's asses by flipping skirts and sending papers flying.

And well, yeah, those are the usual signs that your day is going to go well.

The biggest catch, whatsoever?

Shitty Asshole (Scaramouche) finally decided to stop acting like there was a permanent stick up his ass with every interaction he had with you.

Or in simpler terms, he stopped bothering you.

And hey, going by your definition, it really means that he hasn't called you names nor did he prolong a conversation by unabashedly acting like a fuckboy to grind your gears.

And, well. That? That's really fucking strange.

Some people (Hu tao) may suggest going to the person, and asking, “hey, are you okay?” considering that the asshole looks like he got hired by a shitty animation studio and was overworked during the weekdays, but considering how much he irritates you on a normal day?

You would dare say; hell, no. You don't have any damn plans in crossing the lines of rivalry just to reignite the spark of hatred that's holding your relationship with him. You also don't got any damn clue if he stopped simply because he felt guilty for pushing you down (which, going by your interactions with him on Monday, doesn't seem to be the case at all) nor if he stopped because his ginger friend is finally shooting his shot (which also doesn't seem to be the case since it's unreasonable as hell).

Either way, you'd rather enjoy this blissful predicament rather than finding the catalyst behind it.

(You completely, and resolutely ignore the gnawing itchy bitch inside of you that keeps moaning about the fact that you haven't had a proper argument with the Asshole since Monday.)

And besides, it's not like it's any of your business to pry on his personal problems, right?

So yeah, the angel on your shoulder (that annoyingly sounds a lot like Hu tao) can fuck off, and the beautiful day you spoke of can continue on without any grape-hair bothering you.

A giggle left your lips, the sound utterly high. If you were in the right state of mind, you would've been nauseated with how you're acting.

But.. right now? You’re quite literally bouncing off from, holy shit, I'm gonna go on a date with Childe—to—Oh my god, what am I even gonna wear!?—to—He’s such a flirt, god, he's so attractive–

—and then, finally—wait, hold on, I need to fulfill that damn request, fuck!

With that, disgust burns your esophagus and you're instantly upset, because fucking hell. You have to hang out with the guy that's been avoiding you for.. what? A fucking week? Just ‘cause of some shitty obscure reason?

Like, seriously, come on. Pushing you off the stairs is nothing but a damn stepping stone for your hatred to go onward, right? It's really nothing, so why the fuck is he doing this cold-shoulder thing?

You scoff as you turn on your phone, opening the contacts app, then scrolling until you see the infamous, “the insufferable asshole whom i shall not dare interact”.

God, the nickname was such a great idea.

The conversation that lit against your face brings some sort of annoying churning in your stomach, and you scowl at the feeling. Don't tell me I'm feeling sentimental about this shit.

Then, as you shudder from the prick needles poking at your skin, you instantly chuck the thought to the murkiest depths of your mind; hoping to never be seen again because, holy fuck.

Deeply sighing, you clicked on the call button, index finger lightly tapping and making circles on the counter as you pressed the phone to your ear.

The phone luckily rings until it makes a familiar clicking sound.

“What—”

“Shut up, where are yo—actually, no, scratch that. Come here early, like right now, ASAP.”

A notable silence on the other line. You briefly wonder if you should've let him finish, but then again, any pleasant business the other had could fucking wait.

“Yeah, no. I'm on my way to the entrance road, dipshit,” the other bit out after a moment. There's light sweeps of air in the background, and a fleeting thought occurs to you that the Asshole might be walking considering the lack of engine noise.

You cross your legs, squinting at the door because wasn't the entrance road atleast 3 miles away from the café? isn't that so far?

“...Don’t tell me the Grand Scaramouche is actually walking? Whatever happened to your Porsche, hm?”

Scaramouche simply chuckled, the sound reverberating through your spine, sending shudders along the way. You end up reaching for the blanket that, fuck, was currently perched on a damn desk chair a feet away from you.

For a few seconds, the words simply hung in the air.

You have half a mind to ask what the fuck was up with him, only to absolutely shrug it off as you finally snatch the blanket, fabric warm and just so fucking perfect, goddamnit.

It's then the Asshole finally makes a noise and—

“Well, might as well enjoy the shitty scenery before I quit, right?

Your entire world stops. Not in the sense like those shitty romantic scenes, of course, but in the sense that you just discovered something so fucking shocking that your world quite literally stops functioning for a second.

Because, seriously, what the ever-loving fuck?

Don't tell me I fucking did something wrong? I didn't even do anything. Like, shit. But didn't we just have a talk in monday? didn't we, like err, fucking.. glare at each other in wednesday? What the fuck is up with this guy? Is he jealous? Wait no, that's not really reasonable. Is it Childe? Is he avoiding me because Childe told him to just so he could shoot his shot? Wait, maybe it was the push—no, fuck, wait. What was all that talk about, ‘wanting to stay here a little bit fucking longer, then—

A snort. A really, ugly and mocking snort, “you do realize you've been muttering all that like a stupid ass ESPN commentator, right?”

And right now, as tempting as the idea of screaming, “what the fuck do you mean!? what was all that beating for then!?” to him really is: you, a beloved fuckin’ saint, instead, made the very difficult and extremely mature decision to not push your luck.

And that is to hang the fuck up, LMAO.

Might be an overreaction considering that you once chanted a whole ass pseudo-manifestation on Scaramouche quitting for some inexplicable reason but..

..It's an embarrassment to your dignity to admit—but, fuck it, anyway.

You'd rather take a barrel of a sailor’s vocabulary ebbing out of his mouth rather than this odd silent treatment he's been doing with you.

It's not that you missed him or anything—god, no—it’s just.. really anticlimactic considering that the only connection the two of you have is your rivalry with him; with all the shitty remarks he makes, the brawls you have with him, and the constant bickerings that happens on a daily basis now that you were coworkers.

At some point, you've always kept the notion of having a relationship more than just hatred in the damn Pandora’s box, simply because you couldn't really fathom something stable and promising with him, especially with the Asshole’s personality being equivalent to having a fire up your buttcrack.

Not only that, there's no fucking way that asshole is getting away after pushing you off down the stairs (1), doing a whole pep-talk about wanting to stay in the café longer (2), offhandedly showing up to the first day with his goddamn porsche whom you haven't seen in a few days now and you miss it so bad (3), get into a brawl only to have your beloved grandmother see it and force the two of you into a 30-minute lecture on why fighting brings bad benefits (4), and be one of the sole witnesses of you having a panic attack (5) only to fucking leave?

Well, atleast he's got the fucking balls.

Feeling the rush of adrenaline, you pocketed your phone, the initial plan of changing out of your clothes completely and utterly forgotten as you hurriedly scurried to put on your shoes and bursted out of the room.

Your grandmother furrowed her brow at the sight and sound of the door slamming against the wall, “dear? where are you headed to? why are you still in your clothes?”

You grabbed your necessities (phone, check, money, check, food.. nah, scratch that), and sent a reluctant glance at your confused grandmother, “can I take the shift off today? I.. need to catch up with a friend super, duper quickly and apparently the ass—ass.. something is leaving today. And they didn't even tell me about it so—”

“Alright, alright,” Your grandmother gently interjected, attention now fixated on whatever was on the counter, “you ought to tell me these earlier though, okay? I'll call Xiao to help out.”

A groan left your lips, hand already twisting the knob as you turned one last time, “tell him to not act like a stuck-up dick though!”

And distantly, “make sure to bring an umbrella!” along with the cracked laughter resonating in the air as you took off.

–

The wind howled through the trees, sending chills up your spine. Your grandmother was fucking right. You should've bought a damn umbrella.

You rubbed at your arms, slowly contemplating whether to go back to the café and just endure the agonizing back pain for a couple of days, or wait in the goddamn bus stop since most likely, the Asshole will probably go through there.

The latter is so, so fucking tempting, especially with how there's light rain dotting the pavement now—

Wait, light rain?

Panic strikes, you cautiously and hesitantly glanced up at the sky, as if it was some blood-curdling demon drooling at the sight of a frightened prey. Fuck, you should've known it was going to fucking rain cats and dogs the moment you saw the skies being abundantly clear as fuck.

And, holy shit. The café is atleast a mile away and the bus stop is still at least 3 blocks down, fuck wait, what do I do!? Should I call the Asshole? Surely, he brought a fucking umbrella, right? Hold on, shit. Fuck this motherfucking—

Just as you’re about to curse the entire fucking mother nature bloodline, the featherlight droplets tapping onto your shoulders turns into something much, much more overwhelmingly heavier, soaking your head then your clothes.

A fleeting thought of jumping off the river near the café crosses your mind, but you immediately shrug it off.

Eventually, an exasperated groan left your lips, gaze now facing forward as you stared at the foggy mist that now started to descend on your way. Your back still aching even after a few days doesn't help, and the heavy rain patting your clothes, gradually soaking it certainly doesn't fucking help either.

God, a sick leave on Monday doesn't really sound like a happy-go-lucky choice, doesn't it? Sighing, you reach for your skirt pockets, rummaging through until you find the familiar device.

Immediately just as you take it out, it gets drenched.

Am I really going stupid?

You annoyingly frowned, slightly lowering your body to cover it from the rain as you frantically pressed the power button and—

Fucking voila! It's fucking dead! The bright 0% winking at you like a delicious fucking meal on the table!

For several fucking seconds, you frigidly stood there, hand loosely clutched around the jackshit motherfucking device, with your nervous system going haywire, and the absolute urge to snap your spine in half coursing through your body like blood flow.

Oh, and there's also the impending chill down there that holy fuck, you're going to get sick.

What a fuck-up day this is. All because of that damn Ass—

Okay, that's too unreasonable. You did choose this, after all.

Still. You shouldn't have fucking gone out. Hell, you should've listened to your grandmother.

A crackle above snaps you out of your thoughts, all suddenly aware of the fabric clinging to your skin with the coldest motherfucking sensation, and you shudder, pocketing your phone.

Right. Shelter.

–

After squeaky shoes, near-death instances (one of which being almost tripping over a damn dead toad in the middle of the street), and the occasional middle fingers from Mother Nature, you finally reached the bus stop. And as per usual, it's devoid of the crowd that used to piss you off when you were a kid.

Muscle movement from all over the years has you reaching out to the bench and lightly dusting it, only to realize what you were doing, deadpanned, then reluctantly sat at the wet bench. An embarrassing squeak of your shoes bringing heat to your cheeks.

Years ago, these roads, now looking as if they've been deserted, used to be the lone passageway to Qingce Village. A small, remote town near the Inazuma borders. However, because there were a shit ton of animals running around bare-assed (take the shitty toad as an example), the officials or whatever had to force the roads to shut down.

Now, it's officially been recognized as a restricted area.

Well, not really. Considering that some kids can still do shitty hide n’ seek once in a while, but it's often discouraged.

Well, fuck the discouragement, you can do whatever you want. Besides, it's not like the Liyue Qixing actually gives two fucks about it, especially now that Qingce village looks more like an abandoned town rather than an actual village.

Though, some tourists and occasional students seem to like the idea of abandoned places, so they’re often seen in the area doing whatever.

Your eye twitches when a drop falls just right in front of your nose, thoughts immediately halted. Fuck, should you really wait here for Scaramouche to show up? The biting cold fabric against your skin is really, really not comfortable. But in some way, it does kind of help with your back ache, so there's some benefits to that.

A shiver. Then, a sneeze.

Man.

You're so dead the moment you come back. You don't even know what time it is for fuck’s sake! But guessing from the time you left and the time you walked to get here, it must be around 4:35PM already. The rain is still moderately heavy, and the shitty roof, that's basically worn out rust, has holes in it, so it barely just does the job right.

The faint pattering of the rain against your shoulder feels soothing in some way, and the slight fog seems to disperse from all that shitty walk so now, the area is a bit visible.

And man, what a fucking calming shitshow. You ought to thank Scaramouche for this.

Wait, hold on, speaking of Scaramouche, hasn't it been at least an hour since you called him? And 3 miles is atleast..

You nervously chuckle, no way, right?

No way he reached the café while you were out here, shivering and dying from the rain, right?

It's been an hour. A full fucking hour!

No way. Yeah, nope. Nope. Nope, no, fucking nope.

There's just no way. You’ll see him in the street, wave him over, reprimand him until he stays, then force him to hang out to fulfill the request.

Yeah. Definitely.

And, anyway. What the hell was the Asshole up to? Out of nowhere, he just wants to.. quit?? What is up with that? You certainly know it's not about the environment, or anything. So, what the fuck was it? Not only that, he seemed casual about the ‘pushing’ incident too, so, really, what the fuck is he really up to—

A hand. A shadow of a hand creepily loomed over your form, creating a shadow just below your toes, and you jolted, heart suddenly skipping a few beats as you hastily turn around and holy shit—

“Scaramouche!?”

He carefully surveys you, the seconds feeling like an eternity as his hand idly floated mid-air, before he leered in disgust, “god, you look so fucking horrible right now.”

A dull ache throbbed in your temple, already feeling the Scaramouche-Induced-Migraine settling in the hypothalamus of your brain, “yeah, no shit. I look terrible, and ugly. Ever wondered why that is?”

Right now, the Asshole is clutching a beautiful, useful umbrella and there's a plastic bag hanging off of his forearm. A droplet falls right on top of your head, kindly reminding you once again of the beautiful, useful umbrella in his hold.

“Are you going to stop looking at my umbrella, or what? I'll share with you, don't worry.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, “you didn't bring an extra one?”

He rolled his eyes, turning to the side, then to you, “are you stupid? your granny chased me out of the café to ‘find’ you. what idiot even goes out in a weather like this?”

His head tilts slightly upward in gesture, while you spiralled down in the fact that, fuck yeah, I was right. He really did reach the café first.

“Well?”

“Got bored,” you easily lied, shrugging your shoulders for the extra effect, “I didn't think it'd rain this.. hard.”

“So, you really are stupid.”

"Shut up! I just got bored, okay?"

“Well, blah blah, anyway. Let's go back to the shitty café,” he turned sideways, reckoning you over with his head like you were some shitty dog.

It only struck you as your eyes drifted to his in pensiveness that—this was the first conversation you've ever had with him since Monday. And, he was going to leave. Just like that.

And, god. You've gone two years. Two years without talking to him except the occasional blistering arguments on social media that still pissed you off to this day. Hell, you even went on four days without having a proper conversation albeit the fact that you saw him everyday in that.

You've managed just fine. Felt no difference. Felt nothing.

But.. fuck?

Why does it feel different when he's talking to you, then?

Why the fucking motherfuck does your heart feel the fucking need to feel fucking restless to the fucking point of fucking beating so fucking loudly?

You suddenly, and viciously regretted locking gazes with him, considering how there was now a huge ass stretch in silence as you two stared each other down; the gaze neither intense nor did it ebb hatred.

Though, the way his eyes settled over to yours do feel like he's stripping you down from your skin to your heart, and oh fuck, don't tell me he can hear my heartbeat? holy fuck, this is embarrassing, what the fuck do I do? why is he staring at me like that? don't tell me I have a leaf over my head?? wait, hold on. should I break the stare or what? this is so fucking embarrassing—

An amused sound between a snort and a laugh. Presumably an involuntary one as he covers his mouth in reciprocated shock.

“What's so funny?”

An slight smirk creeps at his face “you're such a mumbler.”

A frown, “that's not even a word—”

“Are we going back to the café, or are you going to keep standing there like an idiot who just got dumped? Because you really look like you got stood up by a piece of shit right now.”

Okay. Calm. One, two, three..

You tried not to let the indignance take over your face as you held up a pseudo smile in agreement. Scaramouche eyed you for a moment, and then sighed before turning around.

There goes my plan in taking him to hang out. Maybe I'll ask him after school tomorr—

Wait. Hold on.

“Wait, uh. Do you—”

His feet halted, just right in the center of your vision and only then did you realize you were looking down like an idiot. God, this is so embarrassing.

You hesitantly looked up, confidently glared at him square in the eye (since glaring has always been your forte with him) and blurted, “hang out with me. like, right now.”

Silence. You can already feel the regret creeping in when all he does is fucking watch, and watch with those shitty fucking ass purple motherfucking eyes with the imperceptible fucking glint shining in them and—

“What on the fucking earth,” his expression was flat, but he did have that aghast-amused tilt to his eyebrows.

That's how you knew it was a success. All doubt and humility instantly drained out of you as you grinned, the mean and confident one that you knew made your features look devilish, “what? it's gonna be your last shift anyway, and I had to take a shift off—don’t give me that look and don't ask why—so, why not just hang out with me? I'm sure grandma would let you off.”

“O..kay?” he drawled in incredulity, a brow curiously quirking up as he turned to you fully, “so, what the fuck are we doing today, Dora the Explorer?”

“Uh, we could—erm,” you tried. you failed, “I don't know! I haven't thought that far!”

“Okay, jack-ass. We're going back to the café—”

“No!”

“And drink some shitty warm water—”

“Nope!”

“And—”

Before he could fucking finish because it really was starting to piss you off, you tore the beautiful, useful umbrella from his hold, stumbling him forward as you slowly took a step back.

You watched the realization slash amusement crawl over his pale features, twisting it up to a scowl, “give it back.”

A blink, then an idea came to you along with an impish grin, “well.. you'd just have to get it from me, then.”

And with that, you took off.

Scaramouche gaped at you, looking absolutely debauched as he realized what you were the fuck up to. And at that moment, you smiled.

You give it at least three counts.

One… his head swerves left and right.

Two… his gaze locked onto you.

Three… then, he made a break for it.

A wet ass road isn't really a good place to run a marathon in along with the (still) heavy rain blurring your vision as you dashed to who-the-fuck knows where, but right now?

As the cold nips against your skin like some sort of fucking leech and the Asshole few meters away from behind you chasing like a madman..

It feels like a whole otherworldly experience.

You'd never imagined running in the rain, soaked and absolutely feeling the impending doom already, with your rival, out of all people.

–

“You're a real fucking idiot, you know that, right?”

Okay. Maybe you are a fucking idiot by, what? Running into the rain with what you presume was one of the best experiences you've ever had but had the shittiest fucking consequences? Yeah.

Presently, the two of you are fortunately situated on a cliff with a bench. Totally I-Know-a-Spot vibes with an abandoned ass gasoline station just right off the side. Though, how did the two of you manage that? Well, your dumbass decided to run off the forest and somehow managed to end up here.

At some point during your whole life living in these parts, you've always seen the cliff in your peripherals but never had actually gone through the effort of going to it. So, yeah more or less, it's really your first time being here and, holy fuck is it divine.

The sun kissed the area with gold, blessing the two of you with the warmth it gives. The scenery is really the fucking catch though; with the sun infront of you, half of the village seen just below, café being literally quite just under the cliff and whatnot.

Oh, and yeah. The rain stopped mid-way as the two of you ran, so right now, you're currently dying with the left-over chill.

A shiver runs through your body, and you breathed out a sigh, “you enjoyed it, anyway. you can't really complain, you know?”

He glares at you, awfully looking like a stray hissing after being dumped with water, “fuck, no. I almost tripped twice. Heard that? Fucking twice, [Name]. That was not fun.”

As if he didn't stifle a laugh when you accidentally dropped the umbrella, “yeah, sure, Mr. Nonchalant. Also, I stepped on a dead toad on the way here, so.. again. you can't complain, I've had it worse.”

A roll of his eyes, and god, one more roll and I swear to the universe, I'm gonna make that permanent, “okay, piss grenade.”

“Piss—excuse me, what?”

“You know, explosive and lethal piss? Stuck in a grenade, and when you throw it, it becomes a piss shower?”

Silence.

“Yeah,” a scowl formed on your face as you conjured an image, “that's not really..”

He narrowed his eyes, “don't kinkshame me.”

“What—”

“So, when is the hang-out actually gonna start?” you can see the shiver creepily crawling over his body, and he tensed like a cat.

Ha, cat. Cat…

You awkwardly cleared your throat, murmuring, “I don't know.. actually. Wanna—uh. Wanna stay here and like, I don't know, watch the shitty sunset, or something?”

And again, his face comically deadpans. You can probably see the iconic SFX behind the background as he watches you with keen, fucking purple eyes.

“Is this really the same [Name] [Last Name] that told me to fuck myself on Monday?”

A snort escapes your lips as you nudge him by the ribs, “haha, very funny. Yes, I am, you asshole. God, you really do have a derogatory kink, don't you?”

His eyes glint in mischief, voice raising a playful lint, “oh, yeah? don't tell me you have a praise kink? Come on, don't get turned off, I'll praise you just fine.”

Your jaw gapes, like absolutely gapes and drops, before dramatically scooting further away from him, “yeah, no. I'd rather eat my own hand than have you praise me like that ever. Please stop the harassment.”

“Sure, fruitcake. And we're soaking up the entire bench, and it feels so fucking disgusting. When are we gonna get back?”

Oh. That's right.

“Are you…” you gulp, heart fucking doing somersaults, “are you actually going to resign?”

And at that—a glimmer in his eyes caught your attention as he turned to you; a permission to open up, to spill whatever bullshit he wanted, and you? Well, who are you to refuse?

“No,” he answers, “well, after today and that shitty run, I decided to shove the middle finger to my mom and maybe ask to postpone the offer.”

A hum left your lips, swaying your feet back and forth, “what’s the offer about anyway?”

“A modeling offer. I was given a chance to undergo some sort-of fuckin’ teaching class about modelling—which, I don't fucking want, by the fucking way. But. Ugh, my mom forced me. After that, I'll probably inherit her company or some shit.”

That doesn't really..

As if reading your mind, he continues, clutching the edge of the bench a little tighter, “and the reason why I don't want to take it is because it completely fucks up my schedule; after-school hours? fucked, cowgirl style. weekends? fucked, missionary style. Hell, even holidays? fucked, mating press style.”

He sharply chuckled as you gaped at him, and you mumbled, “your mom is too..”

“Selfish? Annoying? Fucking overbearing? Yeah,” he interrupted with a scoff, the sound laced with so much bitterness, “and anyway, I think I'll postpone it until I'm done with Senior High School. I have plenty of reasons anyway.”

You slowly blinked, still trying to process how.. weirdly dictatorial his mom was. You don't really give a fuck in that part of the industry, considering that you're way too focused on school to actually give a fuck about anything else other than being a barista (and speaking of school, fuck, you still had that physics assignment that's due by 11:59PM).

And, anyway. Holy fuck, you're absolutely going to have a hard time processing the fact that you just had your first ever official uninterrupted emotional conversation with Scaramouche. Or anything that involved non-rivalry things at all. The others are definitely going to have a field day with this and, ugghhh, you can already feel the undeniable burn in your eyes and the sting in your throat—

“Okay, thanks for listening,” he states dryly, eye-judging you as a droplet from his hair falls, “so awesome of you to go on a mumbling tirade while I was pouring my whole shitty sou—”

“Shut up, you asshole! Jeez, my grandma’s gonna kill me after this. I left without saying anything, I didn't even bring the umbrella she gave me! All because I chose to hang out with you, ugh."

“Aww, scared I'd be out of your sight, fruitcake? you must love me that much, huh.”

“No,” you bluntly say, “absolutely fucking not. Gross, by the way. I was just worried about you since we stopped talking for a week, and now you're dipping? no way, you're still my rival and I'm not letting you go until I see you in second place in the final rankings.”

He raised a brow, “we could still be—”

“Shut it.”

“..Okay, you sap.”

“Gross.”

And for the first fucking time ever, a comfortable silence settles in and goddamn, you missed the sunset. Slowly though as you watched from above, the blue-ish fog dissipated from the sky, leaving an endless sea of ink with dotted white.

And of course, as usual, the Asshole opens his gasbag mouth with his gaze transfixed on the skies above, “I really don't like stars.”

Just as you're about to retort, or atleast shove him to the sides and tease him, he continues, eyes still fixed to the sky but this time with a frown, “it looks so unreal, sometimes. Like, what the fuck do you mean those are just huge balls of hot gases winking at us like we're some useless specimen? I'm not useless, goddamnit.”

You blinked slowly, then levelled the Asshole with such a deadpanned look, “are you really saying that.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Of course, it would involve your ego. Of course. At this point, it's probably as big as the whole space.”

Scaramouche smugly smirked, “Yeah, ‘cause the fucking space is as big as my dic—”

“—Well, how else do you spend your time than just.. sit and not contemplate about life then?"

“..I don't fucken know? I don't spend my time looking at shit like this and going, “oh! I'm gonna think about my life and how utterly depressing it is!” like most people do. I just do whatever shit that is worth my time.”

You gave him a blank look, “so pessimistic. You must be so fun at parties. And, hey, we don't just immediately start thinking about life and all that. Sometimes, we just, you know, come here to relax.”

“If we're talking about that, then I’d rather look at city lights from above.”

A shrug, “guess that's more like you.”

He scoffed with a smirk, “makes me feel like I'm the star looking down in all those shitty specimens.”

“Ooh,” you cooed absentmindedly, “okay, city-boy.”

That familiar scowl settled in and you jolted, not expecting the nickname to hit a nerve, “oh, fuck off!”

A blink. Then, another blink before the drawl of the nickname left your lips with a higher lint, “city-boy!”

“One more and I swear—”

“City-boy!”

“Fuck—”

“City-boy likes to look at species below and—”

“Fuck the fucking hell off, you fucking mumbling gnome!”

You two didn't share a laugh that night, but you did continue the relentless teasing until, until he had to forcefully drag you down all the way back to the café at Eight-Something in the Post Meridian hours.

Needless to say, the lecture that came after was as warm and soothing as chocolate milk with cookies, after a whole evening of teetering between just outrightly dying of hypothermia, or having to go on because life still wants you in its grasp.

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───〃★tunes of your heartbeat masterlist

synopsis: in which your fate somehow gets entangled into a messy jumble between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. the question is; did the curse work?

taglist (50/50): @toekissers , @raineyun @localscarasimp , @potteraep , @shutingstar , @feiherp , @scaraenthusiast1 @dazqa , @wraithisd3adinside , @x-hihihi-x , @court-jester-stuff , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @trulyylee , @jayzioxx , @featuredtofu @kazemiya @help-whatdoimakemyusername , @skyoverkill1 @phoenix-eclipses , @anqelkoz , @miyakomari @saechiro @franaby , @swivi , @vixialuvs , @heusalettle @kunikissr @yomishen @mywillt0live , @baldrapunzel @jiminscarmex @sushitushi, @liuaneee , @shynsgore , @mechanicalbeat1 , @marivaudages , @okukura , @azzumei @lucid1tty @iloveescara @usagiarchive @kyouzki @theunhingedmf @kangyeonie @mi2ukiss @bubblebellaz @eternallykira-143 @lumiicch

• featured song - into the night by benny mardones

• notes - i've been planning to use this exact song for this chapter for MONTHS like i swear it was one of the first ideas that came to me when i first started the drafr outline for this smau LIKE UGHHH

• "i'd take you into the night," [name] taking scara to the cliff

• "and show you a love like you've never, ever seen," [name] and scara hanging out there and talking about life and silly shit hajdnsjn

• "it's like having a dream," cue "You'd never imagined running in the rain, soaked and absolutely feeling the impending doom already, with your rival, out of all people." HELLO??? I COOKED CHAT I FUCKING COOKED

so yeah that shit above was what i wrote in the draft LMAO

authors' notes - hey freaks guess who's back😝 supposedly, i was gonna post this like two days ago but then BUT THEN a shitty migraine fucked me ten times over the course of two days leaving me absolutely dead ass on my bed so. yeah. and anyhoo, any comments about this is SO much appreciated considering i spent the last week making this while in writer slump (5,3k WORDS BABYYY) and holy shit chat??? we're 50-notes away from??? ONE THOUSAND??? WHATTTTTTTT that was so fugkcing fast HRLP ME thank you for all the support regardless tho😞

p.s - might update more now since WOOHOO SUMMER BREAK IS FINALLY FUCKING HERE

(ask to be added or removed)

[dreamgirievii]

Instant Crush

Synopsis: Your families arranged for you to marry each other and boost their companies, they just didn't know you were declared enemies since childhood. Now you're living on the same roof and sharing a bed, you still have to keep up appearances for your parents so they won't suspect that you hate each other. But now after months together, you begin to feel desire for him, and you hate the thoughts that are now invading your head.

Words: 1,3 k

Content: female reader, enemies to lovers, oblivous to love trope, arranged marriage.

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

part 3 here

You were arranged in a marriage with a soon to be CEO, Gojo Satoru, who also happened to be your childhood enemy. It has been months and you were still trying to settle in his presence, he was everywhere you go, he knew everyone you knew, and besides, you have to share a bed. so your plans to pretend he didn't exist in your life were long ago tossed aside. 

And now you found yourself with your back to each other trying to ignore his excessive talking.

Everyday before you could even try to sleep, he would ramble about the most obnoxious things, he knew you got irritated every time, that's why started doing it religiously. Today was no different, the minute you went to your room, he followed, and started his monologues. Until they stopped, you thought he finally gave up and slept. 

“When are you planning to finally let me in?” he whispered in an annoyed tone. You didn't bother to answer, closing your eyes shut as a communication you don't want to talk to him. You felt the weight of the mattress shift and his hot breath in the back of your neck.

“What do you mean?” you let on in a false tired tone, still not facing him.

“Oh y/n. Don't play innocent with me. You know exactly what I mean. but if you want to deny the pleasure of my presence, then who am I to say otherwise?” he whispered in your ear in a condescending tone. You finally turn to face him.

As you face him, you see a smug smile on his face, his eyes sparkling false playfulness. You could feel your cheeks burning hot, be it by anger, or something else. 

“Look who finally decided to face me! couldn't hold yourself longer huh? admit y/n you just can't hold yourself any longer” he said as he grabbed your chin without much tenderness. “i can see it in your eyes, that fucking desire” he spat the last words letting go of your face.

“There is nothing to deny. I have my reason to not want anything to do with you”

Gojo smirks got even wider as he said, leaning closer to you, his voice lower and seductively in your ear. “I do love a challenge, I'll make you surrender to me. I know you want me just as much as I want you.”

“Want me?” you lower your voice to match his. “I thought we shared the same hatred, why this neediness all of a sudden?” a mocking tone leaving your lips.

Gojo doesn't say anything for a moment, his eyes burning holes in your face. You see a hint of vulnerability in him quickly dismissed by his natural arrogance. 

“Neediness? I think you misunderstood. I simply want what is mine.” you raise an eyebrow at him. “The difference between us is that I don't deny that I want you.”

“Is that all you want from me?” you try to contain yourself, but the words escape faster than your conscience. 

“No. I want so much more. I want all of you. your mind, your body, your soul. I want to possess you.” Gojo leans over to get on top of you, leaving you nowhere to go, and nowhere to look besides his gorgeous face. “ I want to know you better, your likes and dislikes, your dreams and how I can help to fulfill them. I need you not just carnally but-” 

before he can finish you crash your lips together, if it's in a way to shut him up or feel him.

He returned the kiss as eager as you, until you separated your lips, returning to your initial position with your back to him.

“What? What are you doing?”He asked, genuinely surprised.

“Preparing myself to sleep you should do that too.” you said, trying to suppress a smile as you hid your face on the pillow. 

“I can't sleep now with the tent set up!”

“You can always use your hand. Good night.” you finally closed your eyes hoping the sleep would come faster despite the stir of feelings inside you.

You felt Gojo adjusting himself on the bed, despite his frustration you couldn't help but let your lips form a smile. You wouldn’t give yourself so easily, no matter how much you wanted, and you wanted so much you could feel it in your stomach, that pit turning and aching to be wrapped around him. You still hated him… maybe… maybe it was just indifference now, right? Otherwise why would you want him so badly inside you like you do? Maybe it’s just the heat of the moment that just happened. Or maybe it’s his shirtless frame lying beside you… his toned back so perfectly you could see his muscles, his shoulders so broad that it made you feel a tingle… 

You shake the thoughts away, blinking and sighing, focusing to clear your mind and finally sleep. But you couldn’t, you just couldn’t stop to imagine how he looked without his pants… and without his boxers too. 

You groan in frustration and turn around in bed, pressing the pillow hardly against your head. 

“What now?” He mutters beside you, still in his position with his back to you.

“Nothing. Go to sleep.” 

He huffs and closes his eyes again, frustrated with you. His hardness hadn’t diminished yet, and he was still hurting hot and fighting the urges to just flip you and enter your wetness. But he fought the horniness on his mind, instead thinking of thoughts of his father that made his skin crawl and his organs twist in disgust, just so he could sleep peacefully and without a boner staining his pants. But then he hears you sigh and turn on you back again, and the soft sound leaving your lips only makes his hardness increase. 

“Can’t you stay quiet? Sleep in silence? huh?” He mutters frustrated, more with himself than with you. 

You huff again and press your legs tighter together, trying to stop the wetness on your panties. You look at him and lean to support your body weight with your elbow.

He senses you moving again, and gives you a side eye.

“What’s your problem now?” You ask, sensing his frustration and impatience.

“You.”

“Me? What did I do now?” You feel your own frustration rising.

“You can’t stop moving, and leaving soft sounds in your mouth, it’s driving me insane!” 

You just look at him with parted lips, all you want now is to sit on his lap and ride him until your lungs and legs break. But instead you sit straight and run your palm over your face. You’re frustrated with yourself and the feelings swirling inside you. You never had felt like this to anyone else, and why did you have to feel like this for him? 

You look sheepishly to him, admiring his strong arms and cursing yourself for it. You reach a hand to his arm and caress it softly. You feel him tense and look at you with wide eyes, and you realize what you just did. You retrieve your hand from him and mutter an apology but before you can but you hand back in your laps he takes it, and places it on his arm again. 

“Keep doing that.” he mutters and closes his eyes.

So you keep rubbing his arm while you make yourself comfortable in bed again. The soothing of his skin makes your fire rise even further, but you try to brush it away. It’s too early to give in. And besides, you wouldn’t be the first to give in to these feelings. 

You keep rubbing his arms soothingly and close your eyes, your face almost completely pressed against his toned back, your hot breathing warming his skin. And you swear you could stay like this forever, just pressed against his back and feeling his warmth, you hated the fact that you wanted him, and hated the fact that you hated it. You sigh and close your eyes again, you know that you won’t be able to push the thoughts away, that you can’t keep pretending to hate him forever, but still… you still have to keep the facade, you won’t give in to lust just yet.

[arkham-dossiers]

Patient File: Lysandre

It's the 4th of July.....so naturally I'm analyzing a Frenchman.

In public, Lysandre is the head of Lysandre Labs, a charitable philanthropist responsible for the Holocaster technology used across the Kalos region. In secret, Lysandre is the boss of Team Flare, a criminal group that wants to wipe out all life in Kalos, and then the world, save for a chosen few that will restore the environment to its original natural beauty and purge all perceived ugliness from life.

The difference between Lysandre's public perception and his true self is quite stark. What led a man of privilege like him to such extreme, misanthropic beliefs? And is there anything that can remedy it?

To start with, it must be noted that Lysandre is descended from ancient Kalosian royalty, being the brother of the infamous King who built and activated the Ultimate Weapon of legend. This status warped Lysandre's view of people early in his life. It made him believe that certain people are inherently better than others, that they are "chosen" for greatness. This belief also placed a great sense of burden upon him, as he made it his life's mission to live up to that greatness. He saw it as his duty to provide for his region, to give to those less fortunate, to help shape a brighter future for everyone.

But Lysandre's ideals ended up clashing with reality. For everything he provided, there were people who misused or squandered it. For all he gave to the poor, he couldn't single-handedly solve income inequality meaning there were always more poor people in need. And for as much as he tried to create a better future, he ended up seeing signs everywhere of a worse on. Some signs may have been legitimate, many likely just in his own paranoid mind, but whatever the case it left him devoid of satisfaction and fulfillment. Being a man whose emotions burn fiercely, Lysandre began to feel deep hatred. Hatred for people who didn't notice or care about how they were affecting society. Hatred for the poor whom he saw as "parasites" who didn't fight hard enough to advance themselves in favor of taking from those who worked for their fortune. And hatred for things like deforestation, pollution, crime, war, and general lack of decorum. Lysandre became a misanthrope, seeing fault in everyone but himself and "chosen ones" that he deemed respectable like himself.

While Lysandre does feel remorse for the lengths he is willing to go to in order to cleanse the world of all that he perceives to be ugly, knowing it to be morally wrong, he keeps himself on this path anyway because he feels it's the only solution and that as a chosen one it is his burden to bear - that he has come too far to turn back now. Despite this, Lysandre is pathologically hypocritical. He wishes to be someone who gives, and yet his ultimate plan is to take the lives of many. He hates selfish, greedy and frivolous people and yet many such people make up the ranks of Team Flare all because they had a lot of money which Lysandre automatically thinks makes them self-sufficient workers who benefit society. And he considers himself to be an idealist even though his view of everything and what must be done about it is so deeply cynical. It's to the point where he can manipulate and threaten and do unimaginably cruel things while still insisting it's other humans, including his victims, that are the problem. In one famous instance, he wept for the Pokémon of the world that he felt he had no choice but to kill, saying as long as they exist humans will be tempted to abuse them as tools, making them and others suffer. He says this while he is enacting a plan that is abusing Pokémon as tools, making them and others suffer! The depth of his delusion and utter lack of self-awareness is stunning to behold.

Diagnosis: Lysandre suffers from a triple whammy of Paranoid Personality Disorder, Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder, and Narcissistic Personality Disorder, with sociopathic tendencies as well even if he lacks the criteria to be a full sociopath. Treatment will be exceedingly difficult, but one aspect of his warped psyche can be used to the advantage of this end: his respect for fellow "chosen ones". Lysandre is not narcissistic enough to believe that only he has value, as he takes the views of other chosen ones seriously even if he disagrees with them - a prime example being his friend Professor Sycamore. If such people keep working with Lysandre to show him better alternatives to the problems he sees than his genocidal aims, it is possible that he will calm down and adjust to a safer way. It will take a lot of time and effort, but it is recommended as the only way to save him. For if he isn't saved, then the likelihood of self-destruction is great, and unfortunately Lysandre is a man with the will and power to take many others down with him.

This patient is sometimes dangerous. It depends on whether or not he views you as among the "chosen" or not. If he does, you may engage with him intellectually. If he does not, avoid at all costs.

[zenkor123]

Journal of Peeta Mellark-Taming of the mutt

October 3rd 75 ADD

who is the mutt? Is it totally foreign to me? I engage I deep conversations and see that the mutt isn't hate but searing pain itbwants to kill katniss so the pain will go away. It is wild, Tracker jacker blue, has horns, and a multitude of wounds, like an undead, it is leaking Jacker venom from its finger nails. I try to reach it and it says it did everything it did to keep me safe and roars. I hug it and it merges into me. As it melts into me many memories emerge and I realize that the capital beat me to the ruins of Peeta, it gutted them leaving only fear, determination, it's a shell. I am desperate for any part of Peeta so I need it with me. After the shiny memories pass unshiny memories emerge that of talking back to my mother, memories of my mother emerge and a hatred and desire to kill her hidden in me feels old. I also beat the crap out of a bully in elementary school. He went to the hospital, could not go to school for 2 months. His name was Phineas something. It was when I was 12? I once almost killed Myrna when she was about to burn me with metal tongs. I am afraid of spiders. I burned myself on the stove and my mom told me I was an Idiot. I am afraid of enclosed spaces. It has a fea memories associated with fear, and pain. The hijacking targeted fear and so my fear, became the mutt. It is more aniimalistic The most painful memories were accesed It emerges that this side of me had been denied all my life and had been abused by the capital. It is my inner demon. It also shows determination to survive but feels a more abstract injury that my spirit was taken from me, this pain existed long before I was hijacked. It felt forced to conform to survive to wear many masks. I have had to beg for food, lie convincingly, Myrna even made me bash myself for food. I want people to like me, I have sacrificed too much for that end. I felt Katniss said something about being a peice in games and I sort of remember a very shiny and gutted memory. I decide to fulfill it rather then have it be manipulated by anyone else, what if I didn't play by the rules for once? But I must face the facts I choked Katniss and I alone. The modification was specific it was the face of my transformation but it was not the actor, the venom had clear physical effects on my body, the impact on my memory was not natural. However in my mind It appears not like it appeared before everything but with loads of Tracker jacker stings, and slightly purple from the venom, it was twisted and it too lost large amounts of memories turned into but a machine mutated by the capital. But I wasn't as nice a person as everyone says I was. Though I saw my nice side die, it was real but it wasn't all that was there. By making peace with my monster I now remember more of my mother then I do my father. I also felt guilt for this monsters presence when I was Peeta but fusing with the monster removes something off my chest even with my memories fragmented. When I was mutated it erased as much of even my monster but forgiving it made the material that the mutts was made out of betray the capital it no longer had any of Peeta to sustain it, but it is still a mutation it is just my mutation, a tormented feral mutation, I am a mutation and what features it has became my own. My nightmares are now more frequent they are no longer of “only losing her” but it is worth it. its the only side of Peeta willing to give itself to me . A weird effect is I got a paper cut and felt nothing. I am desensitized to pain. As Myrna Mellark the witch said, “Mellarks never give up." I clearly am stubborn, capable of taking great pain, I trust nobody, deep down I am a rebel. I am ashamed at my timid nature and having to debase myself for those with power over me. I can work with this.

Katniss has many thoughts on what she just read and ponders

Katniss thinks about how Peeta once viewed her as a source of safety and hope and feels self hatred for not being able to protect Peeta, she hears Morphling Peeta in her head say as he did to Haymitch “only I can protect me”. She tries to remember who Phineus is. Phineus Chance was the tribute for the 70th hunger games he was reaped right after he left the hospital. He was known to be the neighborhood bully and he was from the seam a descendent of rebels from the Dark days. He got 7th place in the games before being killed by the game makers fireball. Katniss remembered playing with Phineus as children. It was never revealed how he got those injuries but Katniss never imagined that it was Peeta that caused those injuries. Katniss also remembers what the doctors told her about the parts of Peeta’s amygdala swelling from the effects of Jacker venom after being suffocated. Katniss also remembers Peeta killing a spider in school when he was 13, she remembers Peeta freaking out about Spiders when Peeta rested with Katniss after she was injured by the fence. Katniss always hated the witch and thinks that Myrna is an appropriate name for her. With The description of Peeta’s demon as blue Katniss wonders if Peeta really did appear blue during his hijacking. After Peeta killed the tracker jacker nests in 13 he returned with a blueish tinge that lasted for 2 days. Katniss also recalls that after she killed Glimmer her warts sometimes appeared a light faint blue. Finally she rages at Delly, it was Delly who convinced Peeta that it was over, that he would never be Peeta, again, to give up, even if Katniss believed Peeta lost, that before Peeta made an effort not to scavenge his ruins for useful material but to rebuild as himself, had given her comfort at the time even if she didn’t realize it. Because of Delly leaving Peeta, Peeta began talking about himself in the 3rd person, told Gale that “the rescue came too late for Peeta.” Boggs that “Peeta got what he deserved.” Peeta had no self to build off of, only scavenge for useful materials. She would never forgive Delly for this, Katniss imagined what it would be like after her memories destroyed, thinking her past belonged to a person who died, with the present belonging to a shell left with the scraps.

[kitsunesfandomtime]

His Escape From Hell - Ch 3

Characters: Yoichi Shigaraki, Second One for all User, Third One for all user, All for One (Hisashi Shigaraki), Original Characters

Relationship: All for One & Yoichi, Minor Second User / Yoichi

Warnings: Hallucination, Distrust, Acts of Violence

Summary: Sequel to Treasure Vault. Yoichi has escaped the vault with the help of these rebel forces but he is still suffering the trauma and effects of the vault. He refuses to let that stop him, one way or another even if no one on his side. He has a goal he wishes to achieve.

Among the vigilantes there was a stir.

It was bound to become an issue the moment some of their men figured out who Yoichi was. It started with whispers, hush words, no actual confirmation because no one truly knows this fact. They are desperate for a scapegoat to fulfill their desires for closure as the man they wish to strike at is too far to take down. Though what was not expected were the drastic changes that occurred to speed up the duress.

Because it seems while many could have sympathy none could be alarmed with what was happening around Japan. Along with the knowledge of the very trigger living among those that could be trusted with this fact.

"I didn't know we were flirting with DEATH here," a young woman shouts usually a calm and collected lady who was a valuable member. A spy who knew how to charm and dazzle even the most hard headed fool. Her hair was a bright purple as flowers seemed to blossom from her hair. A trait she only showed when agitated and something she had kept hidden despite her odd colors until it happened.

She had lost her family in the crossfires and became disillusioned with society with a burning hatred for All for One. "I know you guys can be softies but why the hell would you try to pretend you didn't make us an even bigger target then the government!? He isn't some RANDOM ass refugee he is that monster's brother!"

Gearshift wasn't at all surprised by this as his second in command, Fa Jin, was clearly trying to get her to calm down.

"Iris, we know this is very risky but we can't just throw him out into the streets you didn't see the state he was in. Also you're sprouting again," Fa Jin points out knowing that if she doesn't stop now there's going to be enough for a bouquet if not a whole garden.

The rebel leader watched as she very quickly tries to yank the flowers out of her hair. Annoyance is clear on her face as she takes a sharp breath trying to regain her composure. Her hand moving to press her index and thumb to the bridge of her nose.

"Oh sure, you guys are suddenly super heroes now when it comes to the ONE guy that is likely going to be the death of us," she hisses and Gearshift can admit that it likely seemed suicidal to take in this one. There have been many times they have taken lives but this was different.

"So we should just kill everyone that happens to have once been affiliated with All for One? Have we stooped that low?" Gearshift questions with an almost cold demeanor watching her tense a bit. Her red eyes looked at him with anger at saying such things but someone needed to. They needed to draw a line.

"That's not- Look. I'm not saying kill him or something, but clearly by taking him in something has gone very wrong," she speaks as she takes out something from her bag. Dropping a stack of papers and photos making sure to spread it out to show exactly what needed to be seen.

"I saw the bastard suddenly buddying up with some government officials at a bar. We also have intel that he stopped casually mass murdering and is having his men take ours alive. I shudder to know why. SOMETHING is going on and this all happened after you took HIM in," she points out. As it was a drastic change everything wasn't at all like All for One at all and the two actually glanced at each other.

"We would have been fine if it seemed like he didn't care about the guy but clearly it was enough to become a completely different person," she reiterates. They all had assumed that All for One wouldn't give a shit about Yoichi. After finding Yoichi in the state he was in many would have assumed he wouldn't care if he died.

"It definitely seems like a trigger," Fa Jin noted as they can't claim it's a coincidence. As the man who was once was prancing about all kind's of evil and debauchery was now changing from swaths of evil to truly showing a terrifying level of intelligence.

Though they have no idea what the man could possibly be doing working with the government or taking their men in. It was disturbing to think of what such a twisted person was thinking.

"It mean's he's taking us seriously and is trying to make sure no one interferes," Gearshift finally spoke up. His eyes narrowed thinking carefully knowing there was no going back as they were always going to end up in conflict with him. Though to think could so drastically change his mindset...

Another of the members that came to them finally began to speak up. A demure mouse like quirked fellow, Reigan, who is always their ear to the wall. Unlike Iris who talked to those that are above he listened to those in the streets, "If we use him as bait then we could have the advantage..."

Impossible to even consider.

"We took a risk once with negotiations with all he wanted was for us to submit like I said. It's why we went with planting a bug on him and it how we got all our weapon cache," Gearshifts speaks firmly knowing the man likely thinks if he plays too boldly his brother will die. Thus why is playing coy it wasn't a threat just yet, "We aren't giving up the only thing we have that will give him pause nor are we using him. He's our ally that's final, and make sure to keep this knowledge to only us."

It would be a disaster if more people learned who he is as Yoichi hasn't exactly told them any good information to help convince others that he is on their side. They only accept it because they think he's an AFO refugee that changed his ways rather then someone of that importance.

There is likely a much deeper issue between the brothers despite Yoichi seeming earnest. But even still having good faith is in limited supply and there are many who might want to settle for hurting All for One's brother.

People can't help but misdirect their anger at the closest thing.

Despite the small group not seeming content with his answer they did leave them be. Fa Jin waited until they were gone and the door closed to give them privacy he loudly groans. As this honestly was a mess.

"I'm sorry since when did the mass murdering psychopath decid teaming up with the GOVERNMENT was worth it!? And I'm horrified to imagine what he is doing to our men in this very moment," he speaks as while stayed calm this honestly was not the expected result. Their men were willing to die for their cause not whatever THIS is.

"Regardless, we already chosen this path and eventually he was going to see us as a threat. We just didn't anticipate him working with those he hated the most," he admits. If they had killed Yoichi then he imagines they would have gotten the erratic and more violent outburst they expected.

It was a premeditated strategy to take advantage of a man who pretends to have no weakness. Many had lost their families to him and it only natural they learned the hypocrite was hiding his own they would attack. To destabilize him as he learns of the grief that he has inflicted on so many others.

However, they had expected some spoiled brat living in luxury not someone trapped in a jail cell looking like he wished for death. They may have killed but they had no intentions of murdering those in need of help.

"Hey leader focus," Fa Jin speaks up firmly with a snap of his finger to make Gearshift straighten up. "We probably can't leave him alone though he's recovering he's basically a twig and easy target. Especially if he wants to train who knows who might just jump to association even with no confirmed identity."

Right. They said he was allowed to train with the rebels however if the other members were to learn not only that they did obtain All For One's brother but that he's here not as a hostage but recruit. It will not end well even if they explain having Yoichi dead would be worse then him staying alive.

"I'll keep a personal eye on him," Gearshift knows no one would try anything with him around. "He's still seems to be suffering nightmares and jumping at shadows. Might do him good not to be left alone anyway at least for a little while."

A snort escaped his second in command the way the other was grinning seemed almost mischievous, "Wow, he's getting special treatment? Maybe we have gone soft if our leader willing to do babysitting duty."

This earned him a harsh punch in the arm. "OW! Why!? It was a joke and that actually hurt you, bastard!"

He didn't even entertain a response as he knows why though he did enjoy the reaction. It's something you can only do with someone you trust.

"I'll go meet with him now then," Gearshift is assuming the other was fine with this arrangement. It was just until they are sure Yoichi can fend for himself and right now he should be getting checked by the doctor to see what he can do.

-----

Yoichi hated check ups.

It reminded him of the many doctors visits he had to do when he was young. Constant prodding and all the adults always had these worried expressions as if he would die any second.

Though he is more then aware this doctor is completely voluntary because of his condition its only with gritted teeth he can even tolerate any touch.

"Your blood pressure is still quite high but you finally gained enough weight that some light workout could do you some good now," the doctor noted. Yoichi can't even look at the man's face still rubbing the arm the pressure band had been on.

"There are other concerning factors tho-" As the doctor was about to talk about the condition he already knew Yoichi cuts him off.

"I don't care. Just let me be cleared so I can be useful," Yoichi speaks firmly as honestly despite initially being rattled he was starting to get comfortable again. The leaders may be a bit cautious about giving their names but if he can just show them-

The doctor sighs interrupting Yoichi's thoughts as the man takes off his glasses and looks at him intently.

"I'll give you the clear if you promise to pace yourself. We can't have you dropping dead because you pushed yourself too far," he speaks firmly. "I'm someone that swore an oath to help people its why I'm risking my life throwing my lot with them. Not to slap a bandaid and claim you're fine with a open wound even if you can't see it yourself."

Yoichi almost wants to snap that he doesn't give a crap about some stupid oath the other made. He has already been told enough about what he can and can't do his teeth clenched tight to will himself not to speak. He hates being a burden unable to do anything when people are getting hurt.

"So what I'm hearing is he's available to start some training?" A voice emerges behind him and Yoichi jumps to his feet with a start. Just in time to see Gearshift standing at the door entrance. Does he just always lean against doorframes to look cool?

"Technically yes, but it will have to be a very light work out. His bones lost quite a bit of density honestly it's amazing he isn't worst then he is from the starvation and isolation," the doctor notes as he goes on his computer not seeming interested in arguing anymore. Yoichi wished he had that kind of influence everyone just seems to listen to the man without a thought. Just like everyone listened to Hisashi.

No, don't think about him not now.

But he ain't looking a gift horse in the mouth if that means he can do something willing to accept this help. He can already feel his brother hovering behind him as if to ask why he accepts this man's help but not his own brother's. Ignore it he isn't real.

"If that's all then Yoichi lets get you some work out attire," Gearshift was quick to cut to the chase and Yoichi was quick to stand up. It was kind of exciting that he was going to work with the very hero that saved his life. They really did bond quite a bit last night though the other's demeanor today seemed a bit different.

Now that he thinks about it despite them talking about things like comics and all that he never got the others name. At this point he must be trusted enough to at least get that much. So likely he just forgot.

"Hey," Yoichi was quick to walk to Gearshift's side straightening himself up as he walked with him. Noticing some odd looks from some of the rebels who seemed to be on edge. He tries to ignore them they weren't important.

"You know my name but you never gave me yours. So what is it?" Yoichi points out as he moves in just a hint closer as they walk together. Able to easily ignore the vigilantes looks as they walked to the supply closet.

"You must be in a better mood if this chatty today," the leader noted but it was said in a much more amusing tone. Clearly enjoying the fact wasn't a shaky and paranoid mess. Though he has himself to thank for that since he did his hardest to make sure Yoichi was comfortable.

"Are you avoiding the question?" Yoichi reiterates with a small smile though the others expression turns away as he goes to grab some clothing from the closet.

"It's not really all that important if anything your brother probably already knows it by now," Gearshifts noted making Yoichi tense just a hint at the mention of his brother knowing it. A part of him was about to ask then why he kept it secret only for the other to continue, "Call me Kaiji."

Yoichi decided maybe it wasn't worth it to question the others caution unsure if that is the others real name or just throwing him a bone. After all, Yoichi still can't bring himself to fully sell out his own brothers identities.

"Kaiji... That's an odd name," Yoichi muses earning a baffled look from the rebel leader who clearly wants to ask what he means. But he snatches the uniform from the others hand once he has grabbed it with a cheerful chime in his voice. "Let's get to training, my hero."

They both decided in that moment that it was probably best not to ask for the things in their minds.

---------

Unfortunately, hidden truths can't keep you safe forever.

Though he had been training with Gearshift he very quickly realized this was 'special' treatment. As others had a much more intense regime under the second in command, whose names he still hasn't received. It was easy to ignore the occasional odd looks thankfully. It was something he learned when he used to not be a prisoner of his brother. Hold your head high and act like you belong.

However, he never suspected the hatred they would feel for him until he left to explore outside the base and ended up being seen by a vigilante.

"So he DOES exist! And here I thought the man recused was a ghost story," It was a loud voice before suddenly someone stepped in front of him blocking his path. Yoichi doesn't look up just letting out a sigh wondering what he wanted as the man continued, "The hell kind of quirk you have to make our leader protect your scrawny ass?"

Yoichi isn't exactly sure why it was such a big deal to this guy but knew better then to show fear. Even if was a bit startled at this man coming out of no where to bother him. Already feeling himself getting defensive even if was honestly just trying to mediate.

"Does it matter? I'm part of the rebels like you are I mean no harm," he speaks as if has no idea about his own affiliation with All for One. Even he wasn't so stupid as to think every one of the Vigilantes would be alright with him. Though he's sure the other doesn't know who he is.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Turns out some people don't need to know who you are to make assumptions about you.

He's going to kill you.

Those words suddenly snapped him out of his defense as he looked up at the man finally. A large scar was over the man's expression twisted into a sneer and a special kind of hatred.

He did not have time to correct his mistake. Only able to let out a harsh wheeze when he was slammed hard against the wall.

"You look a lot like that bastard," the man sneered proving that despite never revealing himself the other had suspicion. Burns was all over the side of this man's head crawling to his arm burnt and still looking mishappen, "Are you looking down on me? All for One burned half my face and left me alive as a warning, telling me to crawl back here. And yet they are keeping you here rent free!"

Did you really think the rebels would all think you're a victim like those soft touched leaders? Oh poor foolish Yoichi...

His brother was there. Just watching him as if wanting Yoichi to beg to be saved but he isn't there. He knows he isn't, and even as he can feel his gaze on him he tries to ignore him. His own hands grasping at this man's grip as he can see his assailant about to rev up another punch.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Don't apologize to others, you haven't done a thing.

SHUT UP. Yoichi curses in his own head as he shuts his eyes already expecting the punch able to see the man just about too. Only to feel the hold on his shirt being yanked off making him fall on his ass. Making him hiss in pain as he wondered what had just happened.

"F-Fa Jin! It's not what it looked like-!" It took a minute but Yoichi looked up just in time to see the second in command stepping between him. Able to just barely see the man was holding the guys arm in a frankly painful looking manner.

"So it didn't look like you were about to misdirect your anger on a fellow refugee of All for One? Because we haven't got the big man?" He speaks with sarcasm clearly not buying what was said as he shoves the man away. Making sure to emphasize his words, "Look we are all on edge but taking it out on him because he's an easy target isn't going to make it better only more difficult. We still have a chance just trust that."

Once again Yoichi needed someone else to save him, some hero he is.

As the man grits his teeth he turns to look at Yoichi clearly still wanting to do more but eventually knowing it wasn't worth it. Wondering since when did his brother start maiming people so personally as a threat. Knowing he usually just killed his enemies with a power or made other people 'do it' for him while claiming has no control.

Has his brother gotten worse?

It's only to be expected when you abandon someone. What's the point in caring now?

His brother's voice sounded almost like his own. Was there actually something he should have done before he left? What is happening now that he is gone? Was his brother truly gone? It's so hard to breath

"Yo, Yoichi snap out of it! You're hyperventalating!" A voice snaps him out as he feels hands on his shoulder forcing him to stare up at the second in command. Whose grip wasn't as tight as expected clearly just trying to get him to focus. "Breathe or if needed maybe stand up."

It was clear the other had no idea how to handle whatever the hell was happening to Yoichi.

"What... What is happening with my brother?" His voice was weak as he tries to get his breathing under control. Concern and worry clear on his face wanting to know exactly what other atrocities his brother has committed. He can't pretend he needs to know what is happening.

There is a flash of guilt on the man's face as he rubs the back of his neck. His eyes looking away clearly realizing he couldn't keep this secret.

"Guess it was bound to become apparent especially if serious about helping us," he mutters. Standing up he holds out his hand for Yoichi to take and Yoichi stares at it memories of his brother and the second holding out that hand merged in his mind. But he swallows it as he takes it.

"Please, I need to know."

Even if he might not like the answer.

------------------

The pictures of his brother were like staring at a stranger. The smile with a hint of joy and the coat he wore with such joy was gone. He recognized that suit when his brother worked in a company, day in and day out. Went from orphans on the street to forging documents to find a good decent job that he despised. Miserable, tired, almost broke every day before finally he changed suddenly.

Yoichi isn't sure when his brother started his criminal activity only that he began to smile and declare he was free. And the weird coincidence that the company he worked for eventually seemed to have mysteriously caught on fire...

A suit that seemed to hold him in place, his hair had been cut short, shaking hands with the very government he despised with a smile that was hollow. The death tolls were no longer massive instead it seemed as if he was absorbing them. As if somehow is able to convince the rebels he captures to sell them out.

But it was Hisashi's eyes that he focused on.

There was no joy. It was the same eyes he'd seen after his brother worked a job he despised from the bottom of his heart. Yet plastered on with a smile that might as well be baring his teeth mistaken as cordial.

"We were planning to tell you since it does involve you," they had gotten Kaiji here for this meeting. The tension with the rebels was becoming palatable. So they had no intention of hiding but they didn't expect how quickly it would become a problem.

"Do you have any idea what he is doing? He went from never wanting to deal with the government to now being seen making deals and having beer with them like it a afternoon buisiness drink," Fa Jin was once again asking for Yoichi to tell them something. Anything about his brother as now it was becoming something serious and they are still in the dark.

Yoichi clenches his fist as he grabs one of the pictures into his hand shaking just a bit as he tries to match the picture he was seeing with the brother in his head. But he knew his brother was always capable of it and he had always called him out on it. That he didn't have to go the death and destruction route but now it seemed he was listening.

"Ha..." A small broken laugh escaped Yoichi as he looked at the picture, "...He's treating it like a serious buisiness now planning to expand and make sure the rebels are killed off or converted to put pressure on you guys. He's doing this so you guys will be forced to betray, throw me out or use me as a bargaining chip."

It was cruel. Because the worst part of this... Yoichi has no way of trusting that they could actually keep him around.

"So you're telling me. The guy who threw you in a vault, starved you, and mentally tortured you- Is that willing to work with his worse enemies to get you?"

If Yoichi is honest he's just more surprised at how quickly his brother changed in that short time frame. He hates the way his brother looks knowing his brother hated being the businessman even if he was great at it. He had been happy despite being a nut case despite Yoichi not wishing to admit it but this, this was terrifyingly wrong.

"You do realize that means by joining us you will have the biggest target on your head right?" They were worried about him, "We can train you but if he plans a specific assault and we are unprepared we might not be able to protect you-"

Yoichi had to cut him off as if he needed to defend his honor. Did they think he was scared of his brother!? Because he sure as hell isn't, "I don't care! I refuse to submit to that bastard like some dog with my tail between my legs!"

It was about to escalate. Fa Jin's face turned red with frustration as if Yoichi wasn't really understanding the risks he was about to take. Only for Kaiji to finally step in by just standing up making them both look at him.

"Sanzou that's enough leave us for a minute," it was unexpected when Yoichi heard an actual name instead of the man's quirk. His green eyes widened as he looked at 'Sanzou' the expression of concern on the man's face said it all. Kaiji was going to say something Yoichi wasn't going to like.

"Kaiji. I know you like him you don't have to ruin that. I am ok with being the bad guy you don't-" he speaks as if Yoichi was being interrogated. One that needed to be handled with a good cop and bad cop manner.

"Go." It seemed the leader was done being soft toward him.

Sanzou looked between Yoichi then at Kaiji clearly unsure about leaving but after a few moments. He groans looking almost frustrated.

"Fine. Whatever you handle this but reel in yourself!" he shouts before leaving glancing back for a second only to receive a glare from Kaiji. Yoichi suddenly felt a strong sense of dread as he tenses himself up for what is to come.

"Yoichi, what I'm about to ask you will likely seem cruel but it something we need to know if going to let you join," The others red eyes stared him down making Yoichi feel so small as he lets the silence hang in the air. Yoichi refuses to back down straightening himself up to meet the others gaze. He wasn't a victim.

He can handle this.

"Will you be capable of killing All for One?" And yet those words still hit him like he had been shoved under cold water. It was like this light air of brief joy Yoichi had obtained came crumbling down. Those red eyes staring intently into his own as it asks these questions that they likely knew.

That Yoichi has already answered once even as the voice in his head exclaimed him a liar.

"No," those words hung heavily in the air as Yoichi stared him down, "I want to save him because he isn't a monster yet I still have a chance."

And Yoichi knows he is a fool for it. Able to see his heroes expression shift to something else and he knew...

"There is no saving that man, no one has that kind of power."

That his desires were not for reality.

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 291, Replies Part 2

1) “oh yeah, that happened. I saw Best Deadnist so much in Vigilantes I almost forgot about it.

Also fucked up, incredibly so, but not as much as getting your friend killed so you could use his death to further your own revenge against your father.”- And now we know why Dabi insisted that hawks dirty his hands. He wanted poof of more than just his father’s sins, he wanted to hurt everyone around him like he’d been hurt, unable to fulfil the burning ambitions he inherited by his own feeble body. So, if Toya cannot become a hero….then no-one deserves to become one either. And if he has to get that point across by breaking the faith of the masses one by one? Well, that’s just a bonus lament of despair for him to dance his way into hell to.

(MHA ch 240)

2) “OH HEY LOOK ITS CHICKEN MAN

GOOD THING HE SHOWED UP AFTER THE LEAGUE ACQUIRED ENDLESS RESOURCES, JUST SO HE COULD SAY HOW HE FAILED ON PROTECTING INNOCENT PEOPLE”- Actually, it’s Dabi saying that in a mocking manner, and now we know he was always planning on using Hawks to further his own anti-hero agenda, and was fully planning on killing him once he was done out of sheer disgust and hatred for the establishment that Hawks represented, as well as the young hero himself, possibly out of envy for how successful Hawks’ life had been up to that point in contrast to his own, despite their similar ages, it’s clear that he was doing it just because he knew the knowledge that innocent lives had been lost, or rather, from Hawks’s perspective of their flashback conversation, appeared to have been lost in the Deika massacre, would have weighed heavily on his conscience, something that Dabi lives for. The fact that Hawks is realising the truth of what happened just now doesn’t really affect things much, since Dabi mainly told him that just to screw with him, and then later let him know the truth of the matter in a further ‘you’re utterly screwed’ way, revealing the full scope of the new merged PLF that resulted from the fight at Deika, making Hawks aware of the gravity of the situation when he absolutely can’t afford to say or do anything at that point to tip off his  ‘new allies’ about his true allegiance- not that it mattered, since Dabi basically saw through the whole thing from the start, but did things this way just to cause further stress and mental anguish for hawks, fully planning to use his inevitable betrayal for his own ends whilst also doing whatever he could to upset Hawks up to that point just for fun. (MHA ch 263) 3) “I NOW AM WONDERING IF DABI WAS GOING AFTER TWICE, AND WILL END UP SEEING THAT SCENE. OH THAT`S GONNA BE AWKWARD TO EXPLAIN.”- Oh, Dabi was heading straight for Twice alright, but only because he knew from the start that Hawks was targeting him, and he wanted to be in a prime position to use that for his own ends, Twice’s personal situation and sentiments towards him be dammed. (MHA ch 264) 4) “…

I don`t like this looming doom over them. Don`t tell me that Dabi is already here, because we saw him going the other way when the heroes invaded, he`s gonna be here and see this, won`t he?”- Oh he was there, and lurking just out of sight, but in no hurry to rescue Twice. Needed to secure those discarded cameras and get everything ready for his big, dramatic ‘rescue’ of his ‘comrade’ so he could force Hawks into a no-win situation, even if it risked the existence of such a valuable Card like Twice. (MHA ch 265) 5) “OH MY FUCKING GOOD I CAN`T BELIEVE I GOING TO SAY THIS BUT I`M SO GLAD TO SEE YOU HERE DABI

 KNOW I SHOULDN`T BE ROOTING FOR YOUR SIDE, BUT WE MUST PROTECT TWICE AT ANY COST. YOU DID A GOOD JOB”- Yeah…sadly, Dabi’s presence here really wasn’t good for either Hawks or Twice at the end, because he intervened here only to force Hawks into a no-win checkmate move at the expense of Twice, even if it cost him a valuable resource, and given the impact it’s having, it’s hard to argue that he didn’t gain far more than he ‘sacrificed’. (MHA ch 266) 6) “You know, I`m not so sure about that one Dabi… If you truly never believed him you`d have kept him way more under vigilance, he had the freedom to ask Twice literally the whole goddamn shebang, and sure, even if you thought that he would have no way to transmit it back, why fucking let him even get the info in the first place?”- Because this was what he was aiming for. This, specifically, the entire time. His knowledge about Hawks’ true name and past indicated he was aware of the kind of training he’d been subjected to from a young age, that he knew enough about him to figure there was a better-than-good chance he was really a secret mole for the heroes…and that was exactly what Dabi wanted. Not to manipulate or trick the heroes through feeding him false intelligence, but rather the opposite, using the prospect of actually valid intel of a dangerous force to trick Hawks into a situation that would erode his moral integrity, force him to choose a lesser evil for the sake of stopping a greater one, and using that alongside his own sordid past as further fuel to tarnish the name of heroes. Now it’s not just a lone hero with a dark history that’s broadcast nationwide, it’s also the number 2 hero, who is widely and publically recognised as a charming individual, caught in the act of stabbing a defenceless man in the back as he runs crying to defend his friends. And if these two aren’t the pillars of morality heroes are meant to be, what of the rest? Are the good guys really that ‘good’ after all? To spread this message, this idea to the public, Dabi sacrificed everything – the PLF’s resources, their competent fighters, their carefully crafted plans, and even the ability to spawn an endless army… just to create a more devastating and universal weapon. The idea that the heroes cannot save anybody, because the concept of a ‘hero’ is just a fantasy in the end. And he did it all with a smile on his face because getting that ‘ideological’ victory against the heroes is what matters more to him than his very life, and especially anybody else’s. (MHA ch 267) 7) “Huh. okay, I though there was at least gonna be some ambiguity there, but no, he just outright confirmed he never gave a fuck. Alright.

And boy, don`t try to bullshit us with the Stain crap, because Stain himself would absolute despise you and your league. You heard the part that Stain talked about killing heroes and you completely ignored the reason why he did that, or which heroes he was targeting, didn`t ya?”- Stain wanted to send a message, but just like real life, the people who hear that message and resonate with it will do so for their own purposes, and those don’t necessarily align with your own. Dabi arguably lacked a purpose to direct his hatred towards his father against until Stain’s message helped solidify it – that if his father was no true hero, then the people should see what kind of man he was. The thing is, Toya’s zealous hatred of the concept his father embodies and the hypocrisy that he holds the title of ‘hero’ despite it all means he’s willing to extend that same animosity towards everybody attached to the concept of a ‘hero’ and furthermore, he intends to attack that very concept itself and erase it from the minds of the public. If there is no such thing as a true hero in the world, then nobody deserves the right to think of themselves that way. (MHA ch 271) 8) “Yeah Dabi, suuuure…

And that`s not to say the heroes haven`t done unethical things, we even had All Might trying to kill his arch-nemesis by turning his head into a pulp, but this sort of speech always falls flat. Even Hawks there, he killed a villain, it was a reprehensible act, and by god do we wish it could have gone different, but he only used it as a last resource, to stop a lot of lives from being lost in the chaos that would unfold.

And even worse, because the only reason that Hawks had to kill was because you should up and made Twice keep going, even knowing he would be killed for it.

The heroes` hands are dirt, but they pale in comparison to the things you have done, and the things you plan to do.”- Damm straight, but then again, Dabi is under no illusions that he’s the bad guy here. Whereas even his allies in the league have camaraderie and friendship, Dabi has none of those standards, and backstabbed Twice metaphorically and nigh-literally just to get what he wanted. He’s well aware he’s an irredeemable, monstrous villain, but he likes it that way. He wants to be seen as a monster by the public, so his actions will in turn drag down Endeavour with him, and through his father, the very concept of what a hero is. Dabi’s well aware he’s on a downwards spiral straight to hell, but he’s gleefully embracing that and using it as an excuse to drag as many people down with him as he can in an act of absolute and all-encompassing spite. 9) “WAIT WHAT

THAT PART I DIDN’T KNEW

WHAT THE- HOLY SHIT, WAIT, NOW SOME THINGS MAKE SENSE”- Also raises the question of how Dabi knew it, where he’s getting this kind of information from all these years – the number 2 hero’s sordid past was so hidden that speaking his real name threw Hawks off his attempted stabbing of Twice, recall -and how he even survived the fatal burns that “killed” him in the first place. The narration at the start even says that bits of Toya’s burned body were recovered, so he couldn’t have survived by himself. For all that Dabi reveals here, there’s more to his story than he’s telling… 10) “And I definitely agree with you Dabi, or would, if I didn’t knew that you killed a lot of people, innocent people as well, only so you could get some sort of revenge against him. Endeavor deserves to be brought to justice for what he did to you and your siblings, but this doesn’t mean you’re free of guilty for the things you did after.”- The Todoroki children all shows differing degrees and responses for dealing with their past family trauma. Shoto initially seemed to be the one taking it too far with the intent to handicap himself as revenge on his father, but Toya is the one really showing what it means to take the idea of revenge too far. 11) “It’s irrelevant if it is true or not, exactly as he said. The seed of doubt was planted, and like mint, it will be impossible to kill it.

Dabi got what he wanted from the league, that’s for sure.”- And now, there’s no more reason for Dabi to hold back. There’s plenty of kindling left in his body to burn before his spark of life is snuffed out… 12) “HOLY FUCK HE’S GONNA USE THAT MOVE

BUT HE CAN’T RESIST THE FLAMES- OH SHIT HE’S GONNA KILL HIMSELF TO TAKE OUT HIS FATHER, WON’T HE?!

HORIKOSHI! I WON’T FORGIVE THIS!”- Him, and everyone else in the area, including the League still on Machia’s back if they’re close enough. Dabi’s not being metaphorical when he says he intends to dance with Endeavour in hell, he intends to give them both a karmic ending – self-destructing himself and everything his father’s trying to protect with the very fires he trained so hard to hone in the name of Enji’s ambition. 13) “WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN HE IS ALIVE

WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK WE SAW HIS BODY WHAT-

HORIKOSHI?! EXPLAIN?! EXPLAIN???!!!!”- One chapter away. Months of giggling about “best deadnist” in Vigilantes. I guess that series isn’t done making you hit the bottle yet, huh?

(MHA ch 240)

14) “WHO THE FUCK ELSE COULD IT BE? LOOK AT THE DAMN CORPSE, THE HEROES DON’T HAVE WAYS OF FORGING THIS KIND OF SHIT

OH GOD ITS REALLY HIM

OH GOD NO”- Turns out they do, but as it stands, Dabi doesn’t really give a shit at that point. His ultimate plan was to take down both the no1 and the no2’s shining images at the same time, and the whole hero society with them. He ordered Hawks to kill another top-ranked hero except Endeavour, both to thin out the available number of people who would be able to fight against the PLF and to force Hawks to stain his hands with another person’s blood. He’s not discounting the idea that Hawks would have been able to fake the cadaver, especially since he somehow knows about his connection to the Public safety commission, and all their available resources, but the fact remains, that he still forced Hawks to kill ‘somebody’ in order to get closer to the league, giving him more ammo he can use to publically disgrace both Hawks and Endeavour at the same time. Dabi doesn’t believe that the Safety commission has good enough resources to fake an anatomically correct body double, so even if they changed the look of the corpse afterwards, it’s still a freshly- dead body with the tell-tale signs of Hawks’ quirk as the cause of death, meaning that he recently killed somebody, anybody, to get in good with them, and that’s a fact he can abuse to his advantage.

(MHA ch 288)

15) “Oh boy, time for superior firepower to arrive from above to do absolutely nothing in this fight”- Never underestimate the power of Fashionable Jeans in action!

(MHA ch 288) 16) “Oh shit they are really bringing the heavy-stuff around, those looks like coils, it can be an electromagnetic bomb of some sort. But I fail to see how this could help against Shigaraki or Machia.”- Surprised you forgot about the same heavy-duty carbon fibre wires that Jeanest used to support the Sky Dome when it was coming down

17) “Oh fuck me, I see how it will go. Dabi was banking on Hawks having killed Best Jeanist as a point of his speech, but then he shows up, which casts doubt on everything else that he said. The recording of Twice’s murder is not gonna be believed as well, even though we know that pretty much did happen. Dabi shot himself on the foot by trying to drag Hawks down.”- His spite in trying to extend the reach of his grudge outside his deserving father came back to bite him. It won’t be enough to restore the people’s faith, but it will soften the blow a little, enough perhaps that the other heroes have a fighting chance now. @thelreads

[sh1-n0bu]

I am such a simp for Scara Nobu omg. I'm in love with him being AFAB 🥹

Thinking about him cumming completely untouched just from your praise :(( He needs to hear it so badly, he's your good boy and just wants you to say it all the time <33

-👖

♡︎ 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader

warnings: praise, markings, dirty talk, praise, degrading, thigh riding, cumming untouched, virgin scara my beloved<3

notes: currently on my last fucking line of sanity as i think of transmasc scara squeezing the life outta me with his thighs

wanderer, formerly known as balladeer or scaramouche, was not exactly the most gentle of lovers. he’s always on the defensive, ready to protect himself whether it be verbally or physically. years of trauma, torture and manipulation at the hands of the second fatui harbinger - il dottore - doing nothing to soothe his harsh personality and snappy attitude.

he hated everyone and everything. each and every disgusting trace of emotion other than hatred and sadistic glee being frowned upon, slightest bit of gentle touch met with a harsh glare and a smack. yes, he hates everything.

everything and everyone except you.

he doesn’t really remember how it all started, how the swirling emotions of affection in his chest started. perhaps it was when he first met you when you were with the traveler, during his mission of finding out about the truth of the stars and meteors?

maybe during the lantern rite when the two of you stumbled upon each other as he held his bleeding side, denying your kindness of treating his wounds verbally but never doing anything to live up to his words?

he doesn’t remember and frankly he doesn’t care, not when his smaller frame is sitting on your lap, greedily whining as he chases after your lips in a drunken haze.

his own lips was already cherry red, swollen with small hints of blood, giving chase every time you pull away with a low whimper of a plea slipping from his mouth. his white and blue fabricated kimono top already sitting discarded at the edge of your shared bed, shorts halfway taken off, pooling at his ankle as he grinds himself on your thigh with a bright blush.

"hey now, let me breathe for a bit darling" tugging on his short, messy purple locks, guiding him away from yourself you took deep breaths in and out. wanderer whined at that - stupid oxygen. keeping him away from his lover.

taking your other hand in his smaller one, he guided it towards his side where the zipper to his bodysuit is - silently begging you to undress him. understanding his silent, unexpressed words you fulfilled his wishes, fingers grabbing at the zipper of his bodysuit, slowly pulling them down as your lover wiggled on your thighs with a beautiful deep shade of red blooming on his cheeks.

slipping your hand under his tight bodysuit, you felt him jolt at the sudden feeling of your fingers brushing on his sensitive nub. a quiet, poorly muffled whine escaped his throat as his hips bucked when you decided to give an experimental tug to his puffy nipple.

"ooh? so you like having your nipples played? who knew my sweet little kuni was such a whore" tugging down the turtleneck collar of his bodysuit, you bit down on his sensitive spot of jugular between his neck and shoulder, making the puppet in your arms whimper loudly. face burning up in shame, wanderer wanted to deny your words but deep down he knew it was true. especially with his body reacting so deliciously to each and every last one of your touch on him.

"aww you're this wet for me already? just from a simple tug on your nipples dear?" feeling his wetness soaking through his bodysuit and wetting your pants, you couldn't help but coo at his adorable flushed face. pinching and tugging on his sensitive bud, you leaned down to wrap your lips around his other nipple through his bodysuit. at that, wanderer let out a moan, gazing down at you with a completely red face, a hand over his mouth to muffle his noises. archons, this was all so perverted but he would be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"aanh... w-wait [name]~ wait wait wai-!! mmngh!♡︎" squealing as he threw his head back, your sweet lover spasmed. hips bucking on your thighs before a sudden wetness soaked through your pants more. did he just-?

letting go of his sensitive nipple, you looked up to gaze upon wanderer's face burning up in shame with tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes. hiding his face in your shoulders he let out a whine before asking you a question that made you giggle.

"can we do that again...?"

[navarice]

my dearest fellow mdzs stans, i really don't want to spoil anyone's fun but sometimes some things must be said. please do NOT mistake fanon characteristics for canon characteristics because by GOD is it frustrating to dissect a character when all anyone wants to do is blindly turn away from the very vivid and metastasizing flaws.

jiang cheng is an extremely complicated character, and that's why we love him. but by god, he is a jealous, self-victimizing asshole with a massive inferiority complex who likes to torture (probably) innocent look-a-likes of his (as far as he knew) dead adjacent family member. jesus christ this isn't some simple case of miscommunication (well it is but, you know no amount of communication will ever mend the giant chasm that developed between them. especially not with asians raised within the most classical case of asian parenting, i mean come on now) but a matter of deep and intense self-loathing developed since early childhood projecting violently outwards. let me be clear. he hates wei wuxian. he loathes him. he wants to kill him with his own hands again and again so some part of his convoluted sense of justice and superiority will be fulfilled. he's a classist, a bully, and abusive to everyone around him. ong at the end of mdzs, i was nearly crying tears of joy when jin guangyao flayed him flat on his ass bc that man needed to hear it. he needed to feel it. he needed to stop blaming others and blame himself.

and!! he's homophobic!! the entire cultivation world is, yes, but he's the only one we see give wei ying and lan zhan active shit for it!!

point is...his complexity makes him interesting. as a child, he was pretty alright tbh. he was understandably upset when three of his dogs got taken away and he saw his dad give a completely random kid such a gentle hug when jiang cheng never received one so far. he was a kid, and it was sad and helped the readers get a glimpse at the already dysfunctional family dynamics before wei ying came into the picture. as an adolescent/teen, yes he had a lot of unresolved rage and inferiority issues building up when he was constantly being compared to wei wuxian by his mother and not given enough reassurance from his father (once again, all present before wei ying...everyone just likes to dump the shit on him bc it's easier to point fingers at others than at yourself). perhaps he could have turned out differently if literally either of his parents stepped up and took accountability. however, after the burning of lotus pier? after the golden core transfer? after wei ying stuck around as his subordinate just as he promised, and protected jiang cheng like he promised, and defected just to save the yunmeng clan's reputation so jiang cheng doesn't have to put up with the other clan's shit, still continuing to keep his promise? after wei ying's death? idk abt y'all, but all bets are off bro.

mxtx makes it a point to make him so irredeemable. he's an exploration of what can go wrong if you let your traumas, self-hatred, and revenge fantasies blind you. he has the worst traits of his parents for a reason, directly contrasting with the other sibling, who is a perfect picture of eldest daughters born into a dysfunctional family. jiang yanli has the best traits of her parents (in terms of compassion and standing up for her family), but the family dynamics also made her the way she was. the responsible, the mediator, the occasional mother, stepping in where madam yu cannot.

there's just so much potential to hold him accountable buried under the pretense of misunderstandings and kinnie moments. he just had so many chances, more than any other character, to make a different choice. to actually look past his misgivings and unlearn the bad habits he used to protect himself as a child. i'm not saying he has to magically heal from all his traumas, but at the very least know not to be like his parents. but he wasn't written that way. because that is what happens when you give into your insecurities and generational trauma.

bottom line: jiang cheng is a fantastic archetype that needs to be explored in all his authenticity, including his moments of loyalty and cruelty.

[merakiui]

cannot stop thinking about enemies to lovers with rollo, but you’re each other’s secret santa.

Your plan is to get Rollo something he’ll never need or use (a really petty revenge on your part, but you don’t like him and in the midst of your hatred it sounds reasonable), while Rollo genuinely wants to get you something meaningful. Putting differences aside, he realizes he doesn’t know much about your preferences, so he tries to ask around without seeming too suspicious. As troublesome of a disruption as you are, everyone deserves a lovely gift for the holidays. You’ve given Rollo nothing but headaches and irritation, but since it’s the festive season he can be softer and forgive past disagreements. Anything after the holiday break is fair game, though, so it’s best to cause mischief while the holidays are in full swing because he’s prone to be only slightly less overbearing (depending on his mood as the festivities become more apparent).

Somehow, with all of his asking around, rumor spreads throughout Noble Bell that President Rollo is planning to ask you out on the eve of the holidays at exactly midnight under the bell tower. How such an absurd rumor started is beyond him, and Rollo is fully ready to refute every gossiping comment that’s boldly thrown his way, both in passing conversations and from his fellow Vice President and student aide. He cannot believe the school assumes he would even think of asking you—Noble Bell’s most notorious troublemaker—out! And during the holidays, too! He’d much rather burn to death than do something like that. He can’t stand you. How anyone thinks he’d like you enough to want to pursue romance with you is absolutely ridiculous. 

But then the idea suddenly becomes less ridiculous and more advantageous when his Vice President suggests he go on an actual date (or friendly outing; Rollo’s expression is sharp enough to kill when he hears the word ‘date’) in order to learn about what it is you like. Word of mouth isn’t as reliable as hearing it from the source. Rollo, after much consideration, supposes it isn’t terrible, but (once again) he’d rather do anything else than punish himself with a date with you, of all students. He’s so stubborn when he claims he’ll find another way, and his Vice President can only utter a soft sigh. 

As the deadline for Secret Santa approaches and Rollo overhears how the others around him have all found perfect presents, he begins to fear that he won’t ever find a gift that’s good enough for you. But why is he even trying so hard? It’s not as if he looks forward to seeing your bright smile when you unwrap it. It’s not as if he’s doing this to make you happy. This is just common courtesy. An act of goodwill from student to student, if you will. Or, in less sweet terms, an obligation he must fulfill due to the misfortune of a lottery draw. 

So he thinks nothing of it when his Vice President and student aide invite him to a café off campus as a final outing before everyone goes home for the holidays. When he walks through the door, the bell welcoming him with a cheery jingle, and he sees you sitting there he promptly turns and is ready to walk out. But you call out to him, wave with that pretty hand of yours, and he can’t stop himself from sighing. His peers lied to him; this is not an outing to celebrate the end of the semester. It’s the date he was dreading. He only stays because it’s the polite thing to do—because you’re whining about how he lacks manners and has the gall to leave a dear friend all alone after he had invited them out. 

Rollo really can’t stand you, but he must for the time being. So he slides into the chair across from you, where you’ve already ordered his favorites (he’s certain his troublesome Vice President arranged this, too). If he has to stomach an entire afternoon with you, he might as well get something out of it, so he uses the time he spends with you to learn about your preferences in hopes of getting inspiration for a gift.

Things are awkward in the beginning. Both of you are so accustomed to bickering over rules and Noble Bell’s student code of conduct that civil conversation is actually much harder to fall into. You broach the subject of that rumor that’s been going around and that’s what gets him talking. Rollo scoffs around a bite of croissant, muttering about how it’s nonsensical rubbish and that people will believe anything nowadays so long as it’s interesting. When you laugh out of relief and tell him you’re glad he doesn’t like you because that would’ve made things awkward, he feels an odd sting. Your feelings have never mattered to him, so why does he hate those words?

And why, while he talks of holiday plans with you, does he find himself smiling? Thankfully he’s brought his handkerchief along to hide his pleased expression. He’s not sure what he’d say if you were to make note of his obvious enjoyment, for even he wouldn’t be able to explain it. 

By the end of it, Rollo feels as though he’s gleaned a better understanding of you. When you aren’t actively causing a ruckus, you’re actually quite pleasant to be around. Who would have thought? Despite this, he’s still ready to head back to campus with you after a draining afternoon. But you point to a sweets shop on the way and ask if he’s ever had their winter-themed treats before. He narrows his eyes at you, as if to say, “What are you playing at?” You’re seizing his wrist and dragging him in the direction of the confectionery before he can say anything.

It feels like he’s in a cheesy holiday film, what with how you energetically peer into the jars of candies and sweets, all arranged neatly on the shelves, and the soundtrack in the shop plays festive tunes on repeat. Rollo tries to hurry you along; if anyone from school sees him with you, they’ll think the rumors are true and it’ll cause even more trouble. You yank on his scarf to keep him close, and he’s so tempted to yank you in return. But he finds that you don’t have a scarf for him to tug, and so he has to fester in his displeasure with a scowl. 

The two of you walk out with snowflake-shaped marshmallows, bell-shaped cookies, and candy canes of all flavors and colors. Rollo supposes he’s earned a sweet after dealing with your spontaneity, but then you insist on getting hot chocolate to go along with the marshmallows and now he’s being dragged to a little shop nearby. On the way there, the two of you pass a craft store and something catches his eye. He tells you to go ahead while he steps inside. You raise your brow at him but continue along, and when the two of you meet up he’s holding a bag. You question it, and he tells you to stop being so nosy. Your curiosity is quickly snuffed when you spy another storefront with windows decorated so adorably. 

At some point, in the midst of popping in and out of stores—where he continues to remind you that the both of you ought to be getting back—it begins to snow. Tiny flakes flutter to the ground, and you stick your tongue out to catch a few. They melt immediately upon contact. Rollo doesn’t realize he’s not hiding his expression until you’re gaping at him.

“What?” he asks slowly, dubiously, his eyes narrowing once more. 

“You’re smiling,” you say in awe. “I’ve never seen you smile before...”

“This smile is not for you,” he assures you with a scoff. “Stop ogling. It’s rude.”

“But you look so nice and approachable when you smile like that.”

He glares at you and the smile vanishes behind an irritated countenance and that trademark handkerchief of his. 

“I suppose,” he admits after a moment of awkward silence, “you aren’t so terrible to be around when you aren’t acting like a menace to the entirety of the student body.”

“Why, thank you, President Flamm! That’s high praise coming from you.” You lower into a dramatic bow. He rolls his eyes, but his heart skips a beat. “And you aren’t so bad either. To be honest, I thought I was done for when your VP told me you wanted to meet at the café. I thought you’d chew me out or hex me or...something.”

The mere notion that he’d do such things to you is irksome. He isn’t entirely bad or frightening. You just seem to bring those sides out when you run through the halls, pick fights, and cause disorder amongst the students. 

“Is that right?” He lowers the handkerchief, smirking. His fingers find your chin and he tilts your head to meet his stare. “Maybe you should try being less of a pain. I might show you some mercy the next time we cross paths.”

He pulls away, leaving you stunned, and turns on his heel. “Now then, we should return to campus. It’s getting late and cold, and I’d rather not get stuck in the snow.” 

Rollo doesn’t realize what he did until hours later, when he’s sitting at his desk knitting snowflake patterns into a scarf from the yarn he purchased at the craft shop. The memory has his face gradually heating up, so red and hot you could mistake it for a wavering flame. 

He can’t stand you, or so he once thought.

The gift bag sits innocently in front of your dorm door. There’s a card attached, but the sender’s true name isn’t written. Rather, a lovely message has been penned in curling script: Happy holidays. Do take care to bundle up. It gets rather cold around this time of year. I would hate to see you frostbitten and ill the next time we meet. Sincerely, your Secret Santa. Inside the bag are a scarf, a bag of assorted candies from a confectionery in the city, hot chocolate mix, and a mug with moon and star patterns. It’s a very comfortable gift, and you can’t help but admire the handmade scarf’s quality. 

You have your suspicions, but there’s no way such a kind gift could come from Rollo. He’s made it quite clear that he dislikes you, and you feel the same way. It’s probably from his VP, right? He did ask you a few questions about gift preferences, so it’s quite plausible that he’s your Secret Santa.

Rollo is in the middle of penning his thoughts in his diary when there’s a sharp knock at his door. And then frantic footsteps echo down the hall. He opens the door in hopes of catching the culprit, but he finds emptiness instead. His gaze travels down to the gift box that rests at his feet. It’s been wrapped in blue and white paper and has been taped rather sloppily. With raised brows, he gathers the gift in his arms and shuts the door, curiosity mounting. 

The card taped to it is the first thing he opens. It reads: I really don’t know you that well and I have no idea what you like or what you do in your free time, so if you ever learn my identity please don’t give me another detention for this gift. I tried my best! In any case, happy holidays, Rollo. You deserve a break. See you next year! From, your super cool and super secretive secret santa!!! When he unwraps the gift and peels the lid back, an amused smile pulls at his lips. Inside the box is a croissant plush with beady, little eyes and a cute smile. There’s also a sugar cookie-scented candle and an astronomy-themed stationery kit.  

Rollo sets the gifts on his desk, lowers into his chair, and flips to a new page in his diary. His heart feels oddly light as he scribbles a fresh entry.

I think I’m falling in love, are the first words that stain the page. And it isn’t a terrible feeling.

[strawberry-cowmilk]

good damage

-> satan x mc

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

a/n: I love making these title references :))

content warnings: angst, feelings of inferiority, lesson 5/6/9 spoilers, crime novel (mentions of murder and fire in the book), strong language, yelling, violence

-----

It’s hard to feel like your own person when you were born from the literal emotions of somebody else. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to create your own identity, it’s like a part of the other person will always be with you. Like some heavy luggage you have to carry around. Do you feel good about yourself when you wear clothes only in colors you know they’d never wear? Does participating in hobbies the other person doesn’t share make you feel fulfilled? How would you react to seeing them order the same drink at a café? Really, does everything have to be different? You know you’re only hurting yourself. There is no way you are just a clone, but your brain keeps screaming it at you.  

Sometimes, it feels like you put a band aid over the lacerations that are these feelings. Finally, peace of mind at last... only for said band aid to fall off two days later. ‘Satan? Why are you putting sardines in Lucifer’s shoes? You were getting alone fine yesterday.’ Well, Beel, I don’t know, maybe I have to see him suffer to make myself feel better. ‘You’re really gonna pull that? Well, man, good luck. I ain’t helpin’ or savin’ you, though!’ Mammon is right, these ‘pranks’ never end well. ‘Satan, I am very disappointed in you.’

But this isn’t even close to the actual worst feeling of them all. The worst feeling ever is knowing that you aren’t actually needed, and that your mere existence is a constant reminder of your family’s trauma. You were born on the same day they fell from grace, the same day their sister died. Do they see you as her replacement? Do you see yourself as her replacement? You don’t know, but you do know for sure that they would be happier with her instead of you. 

Maybe, one day, you can turn all of these insecurities and self-hatred into something nice.

...

It was a rainy autumn night in the Devildom. Everyone finished their dinner and retreated back into their own rooms. Satan was reading his newest detective novel, and he never hated the culprit in a book more than this one. His motives were just so stupid! Who kills their sibling because they make them hate themself? Seriously, just realise you are not them, and they are not you. Plus, the culprit was born on the same night their family’s house burned down. He was convinced his family hates his guts because his birth and their trauma falls on the same date. That’s such insane reasoning! You have no proof! Wait, hold on...

Satan let the book fall from his hand on his lap, and stared in front of him as the sound of the rain hitting the window filled his senses. It’s too loud, can’t it just shut up? And this room is so filthy, why can’t he clean his own damn room? The avatar of wrath aggressively picked the book up before ripping it in half. It’s all the book’s fault, if only it hadn’t ruined his mood, he wouldn’t be getting annoyed by everything right now. Yes, it’s totally the book, the book ruined everything, nothing’s on Satan himself at all, right? Keep lying to yourself.

‘Yes! Levi takes first place again!’ the third born exclaimed as you playfully dropped your controller on the floor. ‘Alright, you beat me again at Devilcart, but next time I win!’ Just as you were about to start a new match, you heard a loud noise come from somewhere outside. Both you and Levi stopped moving and held your breaths, and just when you thought it was gone, you heard it again. Leviathan’s eyes widened briefly from realisation. ‘It’s coming from Satan’s room.’ he commented. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. ‘I think I’m going to check on him.’ Levi nodded in response. You really hope no cascade of books came falling down in Satan’s room again. His room is already pretty messy, it took hours to clean up. You knocked loudly on the door, making him know somebody is there before slowly opening the door. Inside, you saw Satan completely tearing up a book. His piercing green gaze shot towards you. ‘Fucking leave me alone!’ he yelled. You knew it was very dangerous to approach an angry avatar of wrath, and yet you still did it. Something must have happened here, Satan doesn’t just destroy books for fun. You placed your hands on his forearms from behind, causing him to freeze. For a second, you thought he was about to fling you out of the room, but instead he changed back to normal. ‘Mc, what am I doing?’ he sighed before sinking down to sit on the floor. You occupied the spot next to him, waiting for him to speak again. ‘I’m out here getting upset over a fictional character because I can’t deal with my own issues.’ he grabbed a handful of his blond locks and squeezed his eyes shut. ‘I’m sorry, did I hurt you?’ you shook your head. ‘No, and this isn’t about me.’ You knew the chances of Satan openly telling you exactly what is brothering him are slim. But you want him to know he’s not alone, and somebody is willing to listen to his voice. 

‘I’m glad you’re here. I really need to work on myself.’ Satan confessed. ‘I hope this is my final wake-up call.’ You placed a hand on his shoulder in response. ‘That’s really good, maybe you can find a healthier way to deal with you anger until then?’ Satan flashed you a little smile. ‘I was thinking of that, actually. I want to write my own book.’ It would be a long way until Satan could accept himself, but he could finally see a ray of hope within the current darkness.

[writingpei]

wicked games (l.m) - chapter eight

previous chapter series masterlist next chapter

pairing: lee minho x reader genre: academic rivals to lovers wc: 2.6k words

i'll be your mirror

minho could feel the smoke billowing out of his ears and the expensive marble floor of the house sinking in with each hard step he took against the it as if he were leveraging himself from one step to the next, throwing his body forward only to be supported by himself again, ready to perform the same movement over and over until he was safely in his room.

his room that wasn't even safe, but almost like a hiding spot in the middle of all the traps scattered around the gigantic house where light didn't fulfill its role and darkness reigned in every corner where the eyes could reach.

when he locked the entrance, he wasted no time in heading to the sliding door that led to the balcony of his room that faced the street. he'd done this more times than he could remember, furthermore, as casually as possible, he swung his legs over the outside of the security fence and slid down the column that went down to the ground and supported the structure. when he noticed, his feet had already made contact with the stones that led to the front door of the house, and he began to walk silently to the main street in front of it, which was completely empty.

as he made his way like a determined traveler, he was blinded by a beam of sickening white light in his face, and instinctively he covered it with his forearms and took a step back, his back hitting the stone wall that delimited the property.

"stand there" he heard a male voice he knew well.

"it's me, it's me, officer kim" had been his family's security guard since he'd taken his first clumsy steps and said his first words. as desired, the light stopped burning his skin and he was finally able to open his eyes again.

"what are you doing here, minho? it's almost midnight," he sighs, tucking the flashlight back into his large utility belt.

"you should be used to this by now, officer kim, i get into one of these about 4 times a week" he gives a goofy smirk to the older man, who just shakes his head no.

"you know i can get fired for this, don't you?" he runs a hand over his forehead.

"don't worry, you won't. my parents like you more than they like me" and it was true, there was no denying it. "now, cover for me as usual. tomorrow i'll be at school at the exact time. in case they ask, tell them i went there at 5 am to study and they didn't see it! see you next time!" and minho was already running down the street like a maniac on the run.

officer kim just takes another deep breath, incredulous at how different the boy can be from everyone else in his family. it was the opposite of reserved and serious. he could only feel sorry for someone like him being in an environment so different from himself, a situation so profusely overwhelming that it would shake anyone, but minho was never like that, he never hid from what was his. if his father's hatred was his, he would wait at his office door when he did something naughty and knew he would be scolded. if his mother's dislike was his, he put his face up to receive the lashes of her cruel glares and venomous silence.

and now he was going down the hill of his wealthy neighborhood towards the others who didn't fit in with him and he didn't belong. neighborhoods of people who needed to feed themselves every day on $1 portions of instant noodles, who owned a single pair of shoes, broken cellphones who clung to their last breaths of life and had to work until the day they died to survive. officer kim had no idea where minho was going at this time of evening on the several weekly nights he had his getaways, but he also preferred not to know. if it was up to him, he'd give the boy the freedom he was endlessly seeking and turn his face away, forgetting he'd seen him and carrying on with his night as if nothing had happened.

"ouch, ouch, and i should have put on another pair of shoes before i ran out..." he breathlessly spews, hands resting on his knees just 5 minutes away from his destination. he could feel the bruises forming on his heels in an uneasy burning, but then he remembered that he had another pair at yongbok's house and there must have been bandages there too.

he had 1/3 of yongbok's wardrobe to himself, which wasn't such an extreme invasion as the blond boy didn't even have enough stuff to take up all the space in the small piece of furniture. he had been going to his house since he was 10 years old. march 1st, 2014, was not a special day just because his rivalry with y/n started, but also because he met lee yongbok for the first time.

he noticed him the very first moment he stepped foot into the classroom. also, who wouldn't notice the big and messy blond hair that glistened in the room light, sitting at one of the last tables, oversized glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose and he was ready to push it back to its designated spot every time it happened, looking around visibly worried that others had noticed. he looked like chicken little, and the idea almost made 10-year-old minho laugh out loud, but he just sat at one of the few free desks, also at the back like his, but on the opposite side.

it didn't take long before the slight amusement minho felt at the sight of him became communal and others began to notice how vulnerable yongbok appeared to be. unlike him, the other people in the room took a much more direct and aggressive approach to the boy, and in a matter of time, he was already the mat for a group of boys who got into trouble every day.

they received satisfaction in being bigger, more confident, stronger, and more treacherous than yongbok, which minho didn't understand because yongbok was weak, and bragging about controlling weaker people was a cowardly thing for one to do that he couldn't even get close to accepting, no matter how hard he tried.

yongbok didn't buy lunch like everyone else but instead brought a small lunch box from home each day. it was clear he was a mama's boy as his sandwiches were cut in a star shape and the fruit was promptly peeled perfectly. once minho passed in front of the boy at lunch with his tray of overcooked ramen and soggy vegetables made in the cafeteria and his eyes touched the sight of the one piece lunch box open and the delicacy in every millimeter of the pot made him stop abruptly in his steps. yongbok got scared, thinking he was going to tease him, and soon put the lunch box on his lap, under the table. minho, however, was trapped in his unstoppable thoughts that flew from dimension to dimension in search of a reality where his mother would even bother to do something like that for him, a proof of love so simple yet so valuable.

after a few seconds, minho notices what he was doing and looks into the eyes of the boy who was still hiding his lunch box. that made the blonde even more terrified because the icy look minho gave him sent shivers down his spine and he feared that the list of his bullies would have an addition of one more person. the other one was just lost in the middle of his thoughts, but scaring lee yongbok or not was something he just couldn't bring himself to care for.

he wasted no time heading over to an empty table and starting to eat his meal as if nothing had happened. before long, his attention was rudely caught by a crash from another table. his curious eyes scanned the large cafeteria and, unsurprisingly, stopped at the table of the golden boy with the big glasses and cheeks covered in freckles where the three idiots who often bullied him sat on the bench on the other side of the table.

"well well, what do we have here guys?" their leader asked.

"he looks like a big baby eating the food his mommy made for him" the one on the right mocked.

yongbok looked mortified the second the words came out of the mouth of the idiot in front of him who looked like he hadn't brushed his teeth in months. the blonde's cheeks turned red with embarrassment and he immediately started doing the same thing he did when minho was in front of him, holding his lunch box to hide it in his lap. the one on the left, however, was faster and ripped it out of the boy's hands, turning it upside down and spilling all the food on the table, the stars raining and the fruits scattering as they hit the surface.

"wow, i'm even embarrassed for you, eating this garbage..." the middle one scoffed, placing his big hand over the rest of the sandwiches and crushing them hard, deforming the beauty of yongbok's mother's gesture that she must have donated a lot of her time to do.

if the blonde was ashamed, his face was soon dominated by the sadness of seeing that happening. now, his cheeks reddened from the tears gathering in his eyes, and minho felt sick to his stomach at the scene, putting down the chopsticks he used to eat the ramen on the tray but not taking his eyes off the lewd scene.

"yuck, that's disgusting, sticky as shit" the bully said, looking at his hand dirty from the sandwiches he crushed. "will you help me clean, yongbok?" he asked in feign sweetness, and the boy couldn't imagine what was coming for him. it wasn't until he felt the warm slap on the side of his face and the skin of his cheek smeared with the contents in his hand that the tears began to fall freely.

what made him tremble the most was that the boy in front of him slapped him again, and then another, and another, the force increasing more and more from each blow to the other.

"it's not coming off, i'll have to try harder to get it clean" he chuckled along with the other two friends, raising his hand to knock once more.

none of the other students moved, nobody reacted. the only noise that dominated the large room was the collision between the boy's hand and yongbok's left cheek.

minho couldn't understand. if it had been him in yongbok's place, he would never have let things get to this point. he'd fight back even if he took a beating, he'd scream like a maniac, he'd drown them in his bowl of soup that came with the cafeteria meal. he would do anything he could, moral or immoral, but he would never lower his head to people like that. what happens, is, yongbok looked around at the people out of the situation, eyes darting from face to face, mentally marking the spectators who didn't stand up to help him. it lasted until his eyes burned into minho's and he could see the tears running down his dirty face, the shame that stained his freckled skin, the humiliation he was being subjected to.

and that's when minho understood how much of a coward he was being, pointing the finger at yongbok but not having the decency to prove what filled his chest to talk about himself: stand up and fight. those who watch attitudes like that and do nothing are just as terrible as those who bully, and for a second, minho was also filled with shame at himself.

when the asshole's hand started moving to hit him once more, minho quickly rose from his seat and made his voice loud and clear.

"stop it now," he said, walking over to the table. yongbok looked at him in extreme surprise, a silent thanks in the midst of such hostility that dominated the environment. "that's enough, you've crossed the line."

"lee minho? what do you want here, playboy? go back to your mansion" the boy scoffed, raising his hand once more to resume what he was doing before being interrupted.

"i told you to stop" he says once more, fist gripping the boy's wrist. he lost his temper and got up from the bench without delay, advancing on minho, bringing his face close to his in order to intimidate him.

"hands off, playboy. i'll make you regret it" he said, threatening him.

"you're right, i'm a rich daddy's playboy son" he smirks. "then you must know that i can destroy your entire life with just a couple of phone calls, don't you?"

the bully fell silent and his expression, initially anger, was now closed and restrained, fear flashing through his eyes. it was true. with a few conversations and contacts, minho could get him to be accepted only by the worst schools in town, get him transferred, get him expelled, or even pull some strings to send him to reform school. yongbok was by no means the first person he must have tormented in his school career.

“now would you please get your hideous face away from me? i feel like throwing up,” minho says at last, and the three of them are gone as quickly as they arrived. now, his attention was directed to the crying boy across the table. "do you want to go to the bathroom and clean up?" he asked, a little awkwardly.

the blond boy who could only wipe away the tears with his hands nodded slightly, so minho offered to walk up to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to the nearest bathroom.

"then let's go."

the way to the bathroom is filled with soft sobs and uncomfortable silence. he had never exchanged a word with the boy before, and here he was, wiping sandwich off his face with toilet paper.

"thank you...for what you did back there" yongbok starts quietly, looking at the ground as minho rubs his face. "and for now too..."

"it's fine," minho replied, continuing to clean. "but i want to get something in return for my services..."

"i... i don't have any money if that's what you want" the blond boy jumped up in attention.

"what? i don't need money" he laughed out loud. "what i want…" he approached the boy, who approached slightly, waiting for minho to finish and the mystery of the question would dissipate. "it's being able to go to your house whenever i want."

yongbok's eyebrows arched in confusion and his head tilted slightly to the side.

"just that?"

"yep, pretty much" minho smirked, crossing his arms.

"fine, since that's all it is, no problem."

he was sure that his friend didn't expect that lost one to last for so long, and that now, eight years later, his home would still be minho's safe haven even after so long.

the asphalt was hard on his feet and his shoes hurt with every step, but minho just whistled songs until he got to his house, hands in his pockets nonchalantly, having made the journey so many times already. he never regretted staning up for him that day. he would do it all over again if he had to. the life that opened up from the moment he started hanging out with yongbok was one of the most beautiful consequences of his existence, and minho was never one to regret anything anyway.

stay tuned for chapter 9! new chapters every sunday ☆

taglist: @liphglos @kiyoomimybeloved @lilactangerine (starting a taglist, if you want to be a part of it, send me an ask <3)

[transhawks]

Idk y'all I'm a whole ass anarchist who thinks political violence is inevitable and in many cases appropriate and I'm still here wondering why people still keep acting like the League are currently standing for something as of 376. This is not a fanfic. Like I wish Tomura read some Gramsci and Bookchin too but no he's fucking possessed by an immortal megalomaniac and none of his friends know how to deal with it or just tell themselves it's not their problem to deal with because they have their own shit going on and most of them are suicidal anyway.

I know this is a very harsh and even hypocritical judgment coming from me who has been "rah rah heroes represent statist violence" but like....Tomura has never had an alternative vision for hero society because all Tomura has been created for is destruction and self-hatred. he played into his sensei's plans perfectly, even his friends who cared about him only ended up enabling AFO's plans. Tomura has essentially lived post-Kamino under the delusion of free will and choice. It was never real guys. The dude tap-danced into AFO's waiting hands.

Like come on, I expect the hero stans to be dumb af about this but the ending has always been that the hero kids save the villains. No ifs or ands or buts, this is a story about what heroism actually is, and the nature of what being saved is. But it's also a hopeful story for young adults and teens and I hate to break it to you, but Horikoshi isn't going to reinvent shounen in SJ. He's not going to buck the formula of a protagonist who can reach out to his antagonists and reform them.

A lot of you are just in this fandom expecting things that would be normal in different genres and while I do think those things would be incredibly interesting, being upset that a young adult comic isn't choosing to explore villains as fully justified revolutionaries just shows a lack of genre awareness. We already have a dystopian government angle. But it doesn't erase that the League has always been about self-destruction rather than self-fulfillment. It doesn't erase that none of the League are functioning people and that none of them were helping each other get out of the pit. Sure, some of them bonded, and gave each other much needed kindness. But kindness isn't help.

Like I don't know if you guys have ever been in friend groups where people are struggling with addictions, but from personal experience? We tend to enable rather bolster healthy practices. If you don't know what I'm talking about, well, idk what to tell you, go make friends with addicts and just traumatized and oppressed people in general. That's what the League is, the superhero fantasy comic equivalent of people who deal with their fucked up lives in very fucked up ways.

Just have some fucking nuance y'all. Sheesh. Haven't you heard that if everyone's already burning, you can't tell when you're being set on fire?

[lioncunt]

Hello! Sorry to bother but I needed to ask, so I Just finished reading IWTV and I've seen lots of posts With Louis and Lestat as a couple but from what I read I don't think Louis loves or ever loved Lestat so are they a couple or gets better in the next books?? I need to ask.. Was he in love with Claudia? Sorry for my English and thank you.

read the next book and you’ll see the canon truth of the situation! louis is extremely in love with lestat, and their relationship becomes more healthy as the series progresses. if you want to see interview as a stand-alone, then take it for what it’s worth, but taken in conjunction with the entire series it’s more a depressed man stricken with grief feeling burned by everyone and everything he’s ever loved. and i think his own love for lestat is so tied with complex hatred for everything that happened that in this moment, the hatred is winning and it’s easy to forget the love. but once they reunite, it’s sooooo good.

i personally don’t think louis was in love with claudia, and that idea is dropped pretty quickly from the canon. anne was extremely weird for even suggesting it and i’m glad she doesn’t really touch on it again. the way i interpret louis and claudia’s relationship is an extremely codependent mother/child one (i know louis is her father, but in terms of symbolism, he’s anne’s projection for the loss of her own daughter so it’s more mother/daughter coded). in that way, i think there’s an extreme amount of possessiveness on both sides, and i interpret the moments where louis comments on her looks or kissed her simply to be the way a mother does. the language used is gross though, and i interpret it this way because it’s honestly too weird and unnecessary otherwise.

i also think that because it’s just them, they fall into this strange dynamic that’s unnatural and too close for a parent/child one and is called out when louis falls in love with armand. louis CAN’T solely have his child as a companion, because she can’t fulfill the emotional needs of a romantic partner. and normally, the reverse would be true as well - a child has to leave the nest and find their own life and love - but that’s impossible for claudia, as the only one who understands her is louis. that’s the tragedy of it, that louis can move on from his child, but claudia can’t move on from her parent.

sorry this turned into an analysis lmao but tldr louis is in love with lestat and no he’s not in love with claudia

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Okay, leaving aside my hatred towards Endeavor for a moment, I must admit I love his existence in the narrative as a character who makes everything around him more complex.

I have some meta about him prepared, but unfortunately I based all of it on a non-official translation of the manga. What I'm gonna do is rewatch the anime and take it from there, but in summary, it's a total show to see how he sabotages himself over and over by not listening to what people tells him and only following what he thought they said, not what they meant.

(I ended up writing a LONG post about this anyway, lol. I'd appreciate if you keep reading).

His approach to trying to make up for all he did to his family was to pressure himself to be the best hero of the world. A hero good enough to make his children and his wife proud. When actually, what he family needed and needs is for him to fulfill his duty as a father and a husband. They need Enji Todoroki, nor Endeavor. They don't need him to become stronger or faster or win even more prizes. They need him to talk and share about their day, to cook and clean the house, to watch TV together and go places together.

Enji is so focused on the narrative he made in his mind that he's unable to understand where is he wrong, which is extremely selfish being honest. The reason why he suffers so much and makes others suffer so much is because he is unable to communicate efficiently. This is a constant in the bnha narrative, a theme that is in every plot and arc. Whenever a hero or a villain finds themselves trapped, they soon realize is because they've closed their minds and hearts and let others out, so they can't receive suggestions or advice, nor try new ways others can see but not them.

Endeavor is the embodiment of the tragedy that comes with not opening your mind and heart and letting people change you. It is the tragedy of the old generation of pro-heroes, in fact. That's the reason why the UA kids have evolved so much through the manga, but the pro-heroes haven't changed that much, with a few exceptions.

Let's analyze how it relates to Endeavor's quirk, shall we? When fire gets released, it generates heat and light and sound; it is energy. Endeavor most noticeable trait is his excess release of energy. He's always on fire, shouting and using his strength over the top. He does what I could call a total waste of his resources.

He works excessively, to the point his own light blinds him. The moments Enji is relaxed, truly relaxed, are few on the manga. He lives in a constant competition. Do you know what happens to any object that is continually pressured? It wears down, it breaks. Or in other words, what is constantly burning without rest will soon enough burn out and fade away.

He held his wife to his standards and then his kids. He forced them to keep a rhythm that broke all of them, just because he felt a failure himself. I don't know y'all, but if the man I admires calls himself a failure, with all he does, and I want to be like him and I'm unable to even reach a piece of what he is, I'm gonna feel fatal myself. That's what happened to Touya. He took everything his dad threw at him. The problem is not that Touya couldn't resist, the problem is that he learned too much from Enji. He copied every trait and behavior, his recklessness and his self-centered view of the world, his insane standards and perfectionism, his ignorance in terms of how much he could stand and his desperation to be enough, be more, please everyone.

Rei ended up in the hospital because she tried to keep up to Enji. The stress was too big and she made a mistake, burning her younger son and marking him forever. And Shouto also tried to keep up, with almost results in him becoming just as blind as his brother and father, if it wasn't for Deku. And what about Fuyumi and Natsuo? Well, we saw how Fuyumi took up the role of the mother of the house and how Natsuo, who has for me the healthiest reaction to it all, distanced himself and rejected all the pressure. But deep down, Natsuo trauma is more related to what he let his dad do to his family than anything else. He thinks is partially his fault what happened with Touya and Shouto, with Rei and Fuyumi. He got caught in the middle, feeling useless and helpless, like a ghost.

It could all have been avoided if only Enji stopped for a while, reminding his family that they were perfect as they were or that he was already proud of them. The issue with this type of family dynamics is that they didn't need a meteor to fall from heaven or a god to point the way, but rather they lacked the little things, the daily things. A kiss in the forehead and a story for the night, a picnic and a trip to the beach. Endeavor was too worry about the big picture that he forgot everyh paint is made with tiny strokes. But he didn't have time, he was too busy for a family he forced to exists. He wanted them, didn't him? Then why he was never truly there if he wanted them so much?

When he was there, they were filled with fear. Did he notice it? Or course he did. It's impossible to miss the type of stares Touya and Rei had in their faces, the cries of Shouto, the trembling of Fuyumi and Natsuo.

As I see it, Enji is facing a simply but not easy (for him) decision:

If he really wants to redeem himself in front of his family, he needs to devotee his days to being with them. He needs to make up for all the time he wasn't there, for all the wrong he did, he needs to take in flesh and soul the consequences of his actions.

And it'd be hard to do so if he is the number one hero in Japan, knowing he's gonna be busier than ever. Now that he has what he wanted so much, is it worth all the trouble? Touya and him are mirrors in that sense. If Dabi makes his family suffer and kill his dad and then dies himself, could he call that a victory? Would he feel okay or just less miserable? Now that Endeavor has what he wanted, did it fill his life like he thought it would?

Does he prefer to lose his family but be Japan hero number one or give up the title in order to take back the life he sacrificed for his dream?

For me, that's the core of Enji's conflict right now on the manga. You can see it by how he went to fight AFO and not Touya. Again, he picked his hero duty over his family, making Kotaro quiet right. After all, heroes hurt their own families to save total strangers all the time, don't they?

[rose2jam]

Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult, an essay by Rose Jam

So, let’s talk about Cults. Disclaimer: This is just information I’ve gathered over the years from my personal fascination with religious cults.  I’m in no way an expert or a psychologist or whatever.  This is just my personal understanding from the research I’ve done.

A cult is started when a wildly charismatic Leader feels like they have a purpose, a higher calling, or a mission to be fulfilled (or they could also just be an egomaniac). Maybe they really do feel like what makes them special comes directly from a higher power, be that God, or the Heir of Slytherin, but either way, this person has a pathological need to be worshiped, and they need followers in order to do that.  

So, how does one obtain Followers easily? By finding the misunderstood misfits of society, and promising them something.  The people who feel like no one else understands them, or their ideologies.  But this Leader?  This Leader GETS IT, MAN! The Leader understands them perfectly, vindicates them, and makes them promises along the way.  Like, if they stick with the Leader, then not only will they finally be understood, but they themselves will also be revered.  That they will rise above all of the others who have put them down for so long, and will come out on top as a superior being.  

Any of this sounding familiar?

Charles Manson preyed on young people in the middle of the hippie movement, mostly women, who were feeling lost, lonely, and in need of guidance, or in terms of the men he recruited, seeking power over others.  Not all of these people were poor or helpless; some of them came from middle class, or even rich homes and families.  Yes, some of them came from broken homes, but all of them felt “broken” themselves, in some way. So Manson used their desires to have a family to draw them in.  He then used LSD and other drugs to keep them under his control, and he created a manipulative environment where the members of his “family” felt they could never leave him, and if they didn’t follow his commands, something horrible would happen to them.  I’m not going to go into full detail on the Manson Family Murders, but if you’re personally interested, check out the Podcast “Cults” on Spotify.

So back to basics, this Leader draws in Followers with flowery promises of community, power, family, or whatever.  But once the Leader has that following, the terror will begin.  Cult Leaders are usually master manipulators, and have completely brainwashed their followers into believing the “us vs them” mentality, that the outside world is evil, that the outside world will only harm them, that the outside world would never understand what they’re doing on the inside.  And that the Leader is the only one who knows the truth, so they better stick with him.  Or maybe the Leader has gaslit his followers so completely, that they become dependent on him for everything, to the point where they don’t know how they would possibly function without the Leader.  Or, the Leader has created an environment that’s so hostile, that Followers are too afraid of what might happen to them if they tried to leave, or didn’t do what the Leader commanded.  Typically, it’s a combination of all of the above.  Destructive cults will either hurt others outside of their circle (The Manson Family, Sect of Nacozari), harm themselves (Heaven’s Gate, The Ant Hill Kids), or both (The People’s Temple, Aum Sinrikyo).  

Now that I’ve laid this foundation, I’m going to tell you why it was practically inevitable that Severus Snape would join a cult.

Snape’s childhood ultimately laid the foundation for the mental state he would be in when he decided to join the Death Eaters.  He grew up in an abusive household, where his father, the muggle, had his magical wife so thoroughly whipped, that she couldn’t (or chose not to) use magic to defend herself, or her son (1).  Eileen had obviously told Severus about magic, about Hogwarts, about what a wonderful place it was, and what a wonderful gift magic could be.  Severus also watched as Tobias beat the magic out of her.  (I know it’s debated whether Tobias actually physically abused his family, but he certainly verbally/mentally/emotionally abused them, so the term “beat” could be used figuratively as well).  I don’t think it’s unreasonable to believe that Severus developed an extreme hatred of muggles with “burn the witch” mentalities from a very young age because of this.

Enter Lily, perhaps the only other magical person in his life besides his mother up to this point. He sees her using magic out in the open, perhaps recklessly, for fun, and he sees an opportunity to make a friend (and, admittedly, to be smarter than someone about something for a while). He was so eager to tell her all about magic, because getting to learn magic, and go to Hogwarts, has possibly been the only thing keeping him going in his young life.  And now he’s made a friend, a real friend who doesn’t think he’s weird because he’s magical.  Unlike Petunia, yet another muggle who makes fun of him for being weird (2). And Lily actually seems to like him back.  For a kid who probably hasn’t received a lot of affection in his life, this is monumental.  This friendship is everything.  Why wouldn’t he love her?

So the time finally comes to go to Hogwarts.  Severus gets to escape his abusive household, and finally has an opportunity to embrace magic for the first time in his life.  But almost immediately, he’s met with a hic-up.  Specifically, James Potter and Sirius Black.  So Severus is no longer facing abuse exclusively from muggles who think he’s weird, but now he’s also getting it from other magical people who think he’s weird (3).  And this started on the fucking TRAIN before he even GOT to Hogwarts. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t sour a kids dream right off the fucking bat.  And then, when he finally gets there, he’s separated from his only friend, by being sorted into different houses (4).  What a way for a life-long dream to be thoroughly dashed in less than 24 hours.

Let’s look at Snape’s Hogwarts experience.  He’s a good student, and he pours himself into learning as much magic as possible, and at being the best he can possibly be, probably motivated by a desire to be better than what his Father thinks possible.  During this time, he is regularly bullied and abused by the Marauders. Sometime before his 5th year, the Incident at the Shrieking Shack took place.  It definitely sucks to have been so thoroughly fucking duped, and put into a life-threatening situation involving a goddamn werewolf (5).  But perhaps even worse than that, the salt in the wound, was that no one fucking did anything about it (6).  He saw Sirius and James and Remus get out of that situation without facing any sort of proper punishment (as in, they all still stayed at the school as opposed to being expelled like they DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE BEEN (At least Sirius should have been)). Dumbledore was looking out for the Marauders, but no one was looking out for Severus.  On top of that, Severus isn’t allowed to TELL anyone about it, not even Lily.  So, he goes through what was possibly one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, and he can���t even tell anyone that it happened.

So, what sort of support system does Severus have during all this?  He has Lily, sure (who literally told him he should be GRATEFUL to James, one of his abusers).  But, what he really has, is Slytherin House (7). I’ll say it plainly: Severus was sorted into a house that was already full of existing cult members.  McGonagall says in Sorcerer’s Stone that “Your house will be like your family” (she at least says it in the movies, I’m too lazy to get up and reference my books rn lol).  So, Severus’ family, his support system, for 10 months out of every year, is a house that is already full to the brim with pureblood elitists with prejudiced ideals, who would absolutely vindicate Severus in his dislike for muggles.  As a kid first getting sorted into the house, it’s obviously not unreasonable to become friends with the people you’re literally living with.  His dorm mates became his family.  So, when his dorm mates started to become Death Eaters… This is headcanon, I fully admit, but like, fuck, Severus didn’t have a lot of friends, and was probably already drifting apart from Lily.  Do you really think he was going to tell the people he had to live with every single day, not to mention the only people that had been supporting him for years, to go fuck themselves for using Dark Magic?  Especially when he was probably feeling like he was on the verge of thinking that their rhetoric made some sense?

On to Snape’s Worst Memory (8).  At this point, he’s spent 5 years in Slytherin House, with fellow students who casually throw around the M word.  He gets attacked by James and Sirius, he’s practically defenseless, and then the girl who he’d considered his closest friend for so long… has to force herself not to smile when he’s thrown upside down and exposed to everyone on the grounds.  Sure, she was trying to defend him at first, but she also fucking nearly smiled at his humiliation, his pain, his abuse.  So he hurls the one word that he knows is going to cut the deepest, that will hopefully hurt her as badly as she has hurt him. And it works.

Severus had been beaten down his entire life.  By Muggles and Magic Folk alike.  And finally, he’s betrayed by Lily, his last lifeline to the light.  He betrayed her as well, of course.  But he did try to show remorse.  And she doesn’t forgive him (9), which was her prerogative, of course.  

So.  Who does he have left?

I’ve placed little (numbers) throughout my writing here.  Each of those numbers denote the specific events that led Severus to becoming an angry young man, who hates muggles, hates (some) magic folk, and resulted in him feeling weak, helpless, and desperate.  For what?  For power, for a family, for a community.  For a world where he is no longer the weird one.  For a world where he’s respected, strong.  For the world he thought he was going to be a part of, when he arrived at Hogwarts in his first year.

And it just so happens that this is the exact world that Voldemort is (allegedly) trying to create.

Severus Snape was angry, and vulnerable, and as such, he was practically the poster child for the type of person who would be susceptible to falling for a cult.  Maybe he was recruited by his friends in Slytherin House.  Maybe he was recruited directly.  Either way, charismatic Tom Riddle came along, understood how he felt, where he was coming from, told him he deserved better, and offered him all of the things he never had in his life.  And being at rock bottom, being the lowest of the low, to Severus it must have seemed like a miracle of an opportunity, or perhaps, like the only chance he had left.

Now, let me be extremely clear; everything I’ve written is not trying to EXCUSE Severus Snape for his actions.  There is always a point where personal responsibility must come into play.  Except for children born into cults or victims of kidnapping, nearly every person who has ever joined a cult has made the personal decision to join it. I’m just trying to express how unbelievably easy it is, for a Cult Leader to find people with damaged lives and low self-worth, to suck them in with promises of a fulfilling life and grandeur, and for those people to be easily swept up and brainwashed into believing that what they are doing is right.  (Or that what they are doing is required, because the alternative is more horrifying.)  

The type of people who joined the Death Eaters are the same type of people who joined Heaven’s Gate, or The People’s Temple, or yes, The Manson Family.  Now, I’m just going to say, from my own personal point of view, I do not vilify anyone who’s ever joined a destructive cult.  On the contrary, I feel sorry for them.  Because most people who join a cult, don’t necessarily do it signing up for the… end result of what happened to them.  Some of them totally do, like Heaven’s Gate. Most of them knew that the end result was going to be the “evacuation of their earthly vessel”.  But the people who joined the Manson Family, for instance, did not initially join it KNOWING how it was going to end.  They were part of the family long before Manson even came up with Helter Skelter, and by the time the Tate-LaBianca Murders took place, they were already too far gone to go against it.

I highly recommend anyone who’s interested in a humanizing view of former cult members, to read the essay “Leslie Van Houten: A Friendship” by John Waters. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/leslie-van-houten-a-frien_b_246953

Or, at the very least, listen to this 7 minute NPR interview with John Waters about the essay https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111585116

It’s the story of how notorious film maker John Waters, became friends with former Manson Girl, Leslie Van Houten, and about how she broke away from the cult after her conviction, how she’s spent the last 51 years of her life recovering from the psychotic influence of a maniac who’d promised her the world, and how even though she was convicted to life WITH a possibility of parole, it’s never been granted to her, despite the fact that she has done literally everything possible to try and atone for her crimes.

Maybe I’m just a bleeding heart.  I’m pretty much the only person I know who feels sorry for Leslie Van Houten and other cult members who were brainwashed, abused, and manipulated into doing a lot of the horrible things they’ve done.  But there are people in the world, who have committed FAR more heinous crimes than the Manson Family murders, and who are far less repentant than Leslie, but because those crimes weren’t as notorious, they get to walk free.

Addendum: When I first posted this, I had a few people point out to me that they had always associated Voldemort and the Death Eaters with Hitler and Nazi Germany.  This is a perfectly fair point, but one that I personally don’t jive with, and the reason is simply the numbers.   There were literally millions of people in the Nazi party during WW2.   Death Eaters don’t even reach triple digits, as far as I’m aware.  As I hinted at in this essay, I consider Voldemort and the Death Eaters to be MUCH closer to Charles Manson and the Manson Family.  The Manson Family 100% had Nazi ideology, of course. "Helter Skelter” was Charles Manson’s prediction that there was going to be a massive race war; one that the Whites were going to lose, and that he and his Pure White family would emerge from it in order to rule over the remaining Blacks.  Kinda... sounds like a Death Eater thing, huh?

Sorry.  Back to Snape.  There is a lot we don’t know about Severus’ actual time as a Death Eater. I think it can be reasonably assumed he’s never actually killed anyone before Dumbledore (In Prince’s Tale, Severus questions if his soul would be safe from killing Dumbledore, and Dumbledore implies that his soul would not be damaged by helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation.  This leads me to believe that Severus never committed any soul-damaging murders before this).  Beyond being a sneaky spy and delivering the prophecy to Voldemort, his time as a Death Eater is all up for conjecture.  

Severus does make one important deviation from the typical cult member mold, however.  In the end, he manages to break away from the cult.  The scales fall from his eyes.  In a figurative sense, the LSD has worn off.  What made him sober up, was the threat to his last lifeline to the light. The one good fucking thing he’d ever had in his miserable life.  He was brought back by genuine love.  Ya know, the ENTIRE MESSAGE OF THE HP SERIES. And not only did he leave the cult, but he then spent the rest of his life actively attempting to destroy it, and atone for the mistakes he’s made, in an effort to bring back the world he’d been excited for, as an 11-year-old kid, so full of hope.