––––Content warnings for; domestic abuse, illness, death, murder, depression/mental illness, unhealthy family dynamics and lots of lying, unreliable narrator at times, death ideation––––

Snow Melts in Spring

CJ was born to his fox mother, Vivian, on a crisp autumn morning in Stullover. He was her first born, and quickly became her entire world. His father was less close to him in childhood, and rather absent. He retains few memories of him early on, but holds the memories with his mother very dearly. Burrowed in the soft fluff of her neck(nearly a mane) she would run him through Stullover, point out heroes and civilians alike, and play with him in the rising sunlight. She used to tell him he was perfect, and that one day he, too could keep the streets safe. Be a hero. He used to puff up his chest, and tell her he would be the best hero the world had ever seen.

Snowfall, at first, was fun, but quickly took a turn for the worst one his mother grew ill. She grew more feeble, and they stopped leaving the house altogether. CJ watched, horrified, as the life seemed to be sapped out of her by an invisible beast. This also left him with his father more often, a man who he would learn to hate. Father was rather indifferent to Vivian’s sickness, if anything it seemed to inconvenience him. He had the audacity to complain about providing for a “freeloader.” The bitterness began to fester within young CJ, but he bit his tongue.

Spring approached, and with it, hope. Vivian was by no means healthy, but she was getting better day by day. She could stand, and walk short distances. CJ took her out to the gardens and picked her dandelions, weaving them into her tail and ignoring the blankness in her eyes in favor of the small smiles she would muster just for him.

She never saw summer. A freak accident they called it. Pushing her healing body too far, and slipping down the stairs, snapping her neck. CJ was forever scarred by being the one to stumble on his mothers body, slumped at the bottom of a stairwell. Father seemed indifferent, shock, the heroes called it. Grief is different for everyone! CJ felt as if his very ribs were being torn from his chest, heart squeezed beyond capacity yet still beating stubbornly. He would never recover.

Worsening Circumstances

Father grew worse and worse, blaming Vivian’s death on CJ. If he hadn’t pushed her to be going to the gardens she would have recovered! She wouldn’t have gone out that day, wouldn’t have fallen. Wasted space, stupid selfish child. The first time father struck him, CJ discovered what shock felt like. Frozen, confused, terrified, he stood, a statue, static in his ears as father screamed obscenities. It worsened from there. He suddenly understood why his mom kept them away from father when she was well.

A new mom. It’s how father had pitched this new dog, a weathered tired looking thing. CJ rejected her from the start, his mother was irreplaceable and no new mate would even begin to resemble her let alone take her spot. The abuse seemed to take a brief break however, which is the only credit he would only give her, distracting father for long enough that he forgot CJ even existed. When they shared her pregnancy with him, he grew enraged, and Father quickly remembered CJ existed.

He hated it, the foul little pup that was born to his not-mother. Cinnabar. He truly did hate him, briefly. A little beast in his house, born to make their not-family look more like a real-family. Stealing CJ’s spot, stealing his mothers bed-His mothers eyes. When the beast finally opened its eyes, he found he could not hate it. Cinna had CJ’s mothers eyes. Innocent, full of life. He couldn’t let father dull that spark. Couldn’t watch him scrape the shine from his eyes until he was as dull as CJ had grown.

The facade of the problem child began. Acting out, screaming fits, small time crime, missed homework. It made things so much worse at home, but it kept the heat(and love) off of Cinna. Both his not-mother and father grew to resent him, cursing his very existence. Perfect. He could take it. His behaviour divebombed even harder when Cinna grew into himself, turning his foul language onto his brother, bullying him, keeping him away. He loved him, so, so much, but if Father knew that he would do terrible, terrible things. Cruel things were tossed at Cinna from father, but CJ knew his brother could take it. The physical abuse didn’t stretch to Cinna, it stuck with the more problematic child, and that was enough. CJ was protecting him.

Right?

CJ first truly wanted to kill when he found Cinna crying and bloody in his bedroom. Father was out for the day, so it was safe to let the mask slip. He lay with him, patched his wounds, and pried out who had done this to him. For the day he was a proper brother, the shoulder to cry on, the listener, the rock. Father hadn’t done this, but some no-good rats at school had. CJ had been unaware of any at-school bullying, and vowed to deal with it.

Unfortunately, his failures had caught up with him, and he cried that day as well. He was supposed to protect him, at all cost, Cinna did not need to know these pains. Crying was weak of himself to do as well, he wasn’t supposed to cry especially when he is finally able to express his love for Cinna. When he finally fell asleep, CJ apologized to his slumbering form and leaves.

The next day he very nearly kills 3 kids at school, and is promptly suspended. That was fine, Cinna’s bullies wouldn’t be active again and that was all he had set out to do. Standing, in the blood of both his enemies and his own, he finally felt powerful. He was in control in this moment. His father couldn’t take this from him, the haunted confusion on Cinna’s face couldn’t take this, the teacher restraining him couldn’t take this. This. Was. His.

The rumours spread, and CJ grew to sneer at adults who stared at him on the streets. His reputation was foul in and out of his home, and he didn’t care. His midemeanors grew bigger, snatching food and trinkets from stores, pickpocketing passerby’s, anything to keep him out of the house. Hunting and mastering his quirk in the woods, bringing back food so it wouldn’t just be Father and not-mother eating. He doubted Cinna even knew how many meals he ate that CJ brought. He definitely didn’t know there were nights CJ sat, stomach rumbling and empty, catch forfeited to Cinna.

A peculiar little white cat turned his nasty habit onto him, robbing him in broad daylight on a school day. It put him in a particularly bad mood, that lead to minor arson of an abandoned building that was put out rather quickly by heroes. It was in watching the licking flames being smothered that he had his first sting of hatred for heroes. They didn’t save his mom, they didn’t save CJ, they didn’t save Cinna. But they’d save an empty building and the lives of some pathetic school bullies?

Heroes were useless.

Actions and their Consequences

CJ grew to worry for Cinna. He started spending more and more time out of the house and in the outskirts of town. On one paw it was better for him to be away from Father, but on the other what if he got hurt? Killed? He would tail him, on occassion, and specifically took notice of a peculiar feline he started to hang out with. When he eventually got the courage to get closer, he recognized the cat that had robbed him moons prior.

Alarmed, he confronts them, insisting the cat was no good for Cinna, dangerous really, and that Cinna shouldn’t be anywhere near her. And how dare she rob him, didn’t she know he was feeding himself-Their argument escalates, the years of tension exploding in a physical confrontation. While initially CJ matches the energy, fighting back tooth and quirk, he quickly loses tempo. What was he doing? Cinna is the only creature outside his mother he had ever loved.

If Cinna hates him enough to kill him, so be it. He slowly loses gusto, stops bothering to fight back or even defend himself. Silently crying, thinking back to the fights, the bullying, the harm. And the one night he had sat, fur against fur, and held his brother, CJ waits for death.

With scathing parting words, CJ is left, bloodied and alive. He drags himself back to his fathers home and plans to curl up and stew in his misery for days on end when his father confronts him. They get into a huge spat, where father threatens to hunt down Cinna for running off, teach him a lesson. That alone would be enough to inspire CJ’s next actions, but it wasn’t everything.

In the midst of their fighting, father drops a bomb. He had pushed CJ’s mom down those stairs.

Bloodied, bruised, but filled with primal rage, CJ jumps directly into another fight, one even more furious than the last. Theyre both out to kill. Teeth tear and snap, and, eventually, one eye down, CJ stands triumphant over the bloodied corpse of his father. He can’t help but laugh. Such a foul beast in his mind, reduced to pulp in his jaws. He should have done this years ago. Not even his not-mothers screams bothered him.

He flees the scene mosty with the help of his quirk, dodging civilians and finding a hidden spot to lick his wounds until he could flee the city. Officially dubbed a villain, he finds himself uncaring of the title or new lifestyle. As soon as his wounds sealed up, he skips town, heading for Houndsbelly for the margin of safety as a villain. He takes little interest in the trek, and only camps and hunts as necessary, looking moreso for the destination than the travels.

Petty crimes become his flavor, general chaos and thievery in the streets followed by rapid escapes. Occasionally doing a job or two with other groups(he’s a great distraction.) And settling into a new, chaotic lifestyle that suits him rather well. If only he didn’t return to his base feeling so hollow no matter the daily activities.

He tried once, to connect with Cinna again, but was quickly shut down, and dropped with the horrible consequences of his actions. This entire time, he hadn’t been keeping Cinna at arms length, he had been driving a wedge between them. Cinna well and truly thought CJ had always hated him. How horrific a thought.

It was entirely CJ`s fault.