Belphie blinks at you in greeting as you slide under the covers with him, only humming gently when you hold onto him for dear life. Dark indigo eyes noticing with interest that you haven't even started getting ready for RAD yet---not that he was one to talk---the Avatar of Sloth merely gives you a lazy smirk and wraps his tail around you under the covers as you whisper a strangled out, 'hide me'.
He nods slowly, his throat feeling much too heavy, and he himself feeling much too lazy to use his words. A pale hand pulls the covers over your head, just in time too, as Lucifer bursts into the room, ruby red eyes shining like a wolf on the hunt.
"Have you seen MC?" The eldest asks, paying no mind to the usual sound of morning chaos coming from the rest of the house.
Belphie lets out a strangled, lazy, "Nope." all the while his tail tightens around you.
Lucifer shakes his head. Looking at the you shaped lump under the covers. Merely pinching the bridge of his hooked nose and sighing, "MC. If you wanted a break from RAD, you could've just asked instead of opting to hide."
You pop out from under the covers, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, Belphegor's arms wrap around you from under the covers, his eyes sleepily tracing the features of your face as you speak.
"Right.....yeah. Sorry Luci?" You tilt your head, the Avatar of Pride's eyes soften a fraction.
"Be sure to catch up on your schoolwork, we only have room for one academic failure in this house and I'm afraid that spot has permanently been reserved for Mammon." Lucifer says sternly, though you can see the faintest upward quirk of his lips.
"Aye aye Captain." You nod, sleepily saluting the eldest.
"Belphegor."
Belphie turns to look at his eldest brother.
"Just because MC has a day off school, it doesn't mean you have one. Your uniform's hanging up by your desk." The ebony-haired demon walks out of the room.
"...Diavolo fucking dammit."
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Just want to say: a, I admire very much that you've figured out a healthy way to work on your fics that allows you to have fun with it. And also b, am very excited to hear that you are getting there with pez! It has fully given me brain rot ever since I read it last year, there is just such a lack of content for the highly specific trope of using time travel as a device to explore extremely unhealthy levels of self loathing.
I just adore everything you're doing in it. Neither midoriya is anywhere approaching okay for any portion of the fic and I love rereading and mining into all the subtle characterization pointing to that. It's a bit like nhtycth in that some really goofy funny stuff is often hiding some really fucking worrying things, but the fact that characters DO do that stuff—that todoroki uses his teaspoon's worth of extremely stunted social skills to bludgeon his friend's door open and help him, that a rpf shipping war is an actual source of drama despite how goofy the sentiment seems on the surface, that about half of what jon says is deeply worrying and the other half is extremely funny and there's a lot of overlap between the two—really lifts the tension and brightens the universe. It's sort of similar to what you did with gerry, in that endless misery isn't nearly as painful as the ups and downs of a life that, when you step back and zoom out, has something deeply and horribly wrong with it.
(jon sort of reminds me of spider-man in that he uses human to deal with trauma and stress, except I don't think he at any point realizes how fucking funny he is. He's just there, in a home depot, gnashing his teeth because he's got so many bodies to dispose of and this cashier sure is taking her time.)
I really, really, really have had trouble finding fics that take everything midoriya has dealt with to task. It's a hell of a thing to live 14 years as a disabled minority, have it heavily shape your existence, and then one day you wake up and you realize you're...not that, or at least, nobody will ever acknowledge you as that again. You've lost all claim to it. Those experiences that shaped who you are? Dust in the wind. 14 years of pain and life might as well be buried in the ground for all the good they do you. Nobody's going to cut you any slack or quarter, you've gotta simply work harder, be better. And now when you do that you get the results you wanted, so that's fine, then. That's good. There was something wrong with the you before, and there's something right with the you now, and if the transition is a little rough, well that doesn't matter, you're the same as everyone else now, so it's your own job to fill in whatever gaps you need to.
I really can't get over how mentally fucked it must be for midoriya to run into quirkless people, run across quirkless issues, and be silently caught between, incapable of speaking his mind and too scared to do so anyway around those he can trust.
Also I should mention, I'm just very excited for bakugou to get back from the gym. He's been there like a year I hope he's getting a good workout in.
Me realizing that it’s been a year since pez dispenser debris:
I feel like there’s just this very specific type of grief that Izuku has to grapple with in the span of pez dispenser debris that I’m just obsessed with. He’s sort of silently mourning who he could have been, when 1) he has to present like there’s nothing lost to maintain his secret and 2) the entire world is constantly inundating him with the message that there was nothing lost.
Like. I don’t want to get too deep into it because it risks spoiling things and I do have major plans to continue it (I’ve loved this story for so many years before I ever even hit publish), but the emotion that Izuku’s feeling right now is so much more complex than “I hate who I used to be and want him to stop existing” or “I just want to keep my secrets.” And I think the way he interacts with Mirio is the biggest evidence of that.
Izuku’s placed himself at the very center of the Quirklessness debate with his support of Mirio. He fights for Quirkless heroes, very publicly, to the point where he’s not even graduated yet but considered to be one of the most prominent voices on the matter. If you took a poll of Quirkless people as to which hero would be most supportive of them pursing their own career in heroics, Izuku would be right at the top of the list. When it comes to Quirklessness itself, he’s nothing but supportive.
But he didn’t tell Mirio the truth of his own Quirklessness.
Out of everyone, Mirio’s the one everyone expects to know, despite him being a relatively newer relationship compared to someone like Iida or Uraraka or Todoroki. And I tried to imply that he’s sort of the one who knows the most about Izuku out of everyone save All Might.
Like, we’ll get into how much exactly Mirio knows soon, so I won’t divulge what, if anything, Izuku has told him. But we know that Mirio knows, weirdly enough, that Izuku is deeply fucking haunted. He knows that boy has many violent ghosts in his bones. He finds it hilarious and will tell their realtor about it. Izuku told him about the discontent spirits who died in a violent passion and live on inside of him before he told him about his Quirklessness.
And I just feel like one of those things is a little bit easier to discuss than the other.
Izuku has decided to keep his own Quirklessness quiet in a way that surpasses secrecy about One for All. If it was just about OfA, he could tell people he didn’t get his quirk until the entrance exam, and it wouldn’t even be a lie. He’s purposefully obscuring his own past as Quirkless even as he takes a forefront of the Quirkless hero debate with his open support of Mirio.
And the fact that he’s at the forefront of this debate in and of itself requires a difficult dichotomy. He is the world’s most vocal proponent for the first Quirkless hero. He is a known figure in the Quirkless community now.
He isn’t considered one of them anymore. He’s an outsider coming in.
It must be such a strange, odd sort of grief to come to the people you were home amongst for most of your life and be greeted as a stranger. To return home, and to be welcomed in for the first time, and to not even be able to tell people that you’ve lived here all your life and don’t need a tour.
It’s a sort of death of self, I think. And I think Izuku never expected to have to grapple with his own ghost.
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slasher iii & slasher iv
oh geez oh boy oh god here it is. i had to strangle this thing out of my brain and she came out kicking and screaming. unedited, just some fun slasher iii & slasher iv content on this saturday evening. this is... something
there's a good bit of triggers in here, please proceed with caution.
1.15k words
The two of them are just hardcore horror fans, right? They've seen all the classics a million times but as they're getting older it's just not enough. III is the first one to suggest it as he turns off the television after watching the newest horror box office flop. At first, IV thought it was a joke. An outlandish suggestion to throw him off his game. That was the kind of jokester that III was. But there was no humor in his voice when he said in a sinisterly quiet voice.
"We could just do that shit ourselves."
The thought caused excitement to pulse through IV's veins as III laid out the details of his fantasy. It was almost too perfect, he thought. Their calculus professor was a piece of shit who was always too hard on the class, so he made an obvious target. He had no family, which further eased IV's conscience. They'd be doing the world a favor.
It was an experience unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, the thrill of watching the light wink out of his horrified eyes as he clawed at the masks covering their faces, watching the fight leave his body as he fell limp to the floor. He found he didn't quite mind the feeling of his blood soaked jeans clinging to his legs.
III had done most of the dirty work, but who was IV to deprive him of the joy he received from plunging the knife into his victim's stomach? They tidied. up after themselves enough to erase their presence, and waited for someone to find him.
The discovery of the beloved professor’s body the next day came as a shock to the whole community, leaving the town a worried mess. Things only got worse as III and IV selected their next target. She was a young woman, engaged to be married, known for babysitting just about every kid in town– the two of them included. IV’s stomach soured at the thought, but the grin on III’s face stirred his excitement enough to quell his conscience.
“Don’t worry mate, she’ll be perfect.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder and pulled him into his pickup truck, the bed loaded with enough hunting knives to butcher a stampede.
And perfect she was. They managed to slip into the garage undetected, slinking through the darkened hallways towards the illumination and chatter of the television in the living room. She had nodded off on the couch, her head tilted back and nestled into the corner, surrounded by blankets and pillows. III gave him a silent nod and IV walked around behind her, wrapping an arm around her neck and clamping his hand over her mouth. Her eyes shot open in fear, panic overtaking her body as her eyes raked down every intimidating inch of III as he knelt in front of her, sliding a knife out of his boot.
IV could feel her gnashing at the flesh of his palm, and simply pressed the crook of his elbow further into her jugular. He could feel her resolve dwindling as she thrashed against his hold, trying to shove III’s towering figure away from her. But III only laughed and swatted away her comparatively small hands as he began tracing the tip of his blade up her pajama clad leg, the twinkle in his eye indicated to IV that he was thoroughly enjoying the muffled whimpers coming from behind IV’s hand, relishing in the way that her body lurched away from him.
When IV felt his hand dampening from her tears, he audibly groaned, looking down to see her beautiful eyes squeezed shut, tears running down her cheeks. If his mask wasn’t covering his mouth he would have leaned down and licked those tears off of her perfect skin himself. But instead, he managed to catch III’s attention, nodding down to her streaming tears and III laughed evilly.
He leaned over her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, gently caressing her cheeks as he did so, despite IV’s hands covering most of her face.
“Hey, no use for that,” III cooed. “No point of doing that at all, love.”
Her eyes opened, a bone-chilling fear shooting through her body as she saw the murderous glint in III’s eyes. The tears flowed faster, and as she tried again to break free III restrained her arms with ease, resting his body weight on top of her as he brought his knife up to her line of sight again.
“We’re going to have a lovely time, the three of us.”
She screamed from behind IV’s hand, making one last attempt to bite at him and managed to find purchase on the meat of his palm, causing him to yelp. She sank her teeth in until she could taste his blood on her tongue, but she found his grip only tightened. When she dared a glance above her, she could see his eyes shut, breathing labored, but when he looked down at her, she realized what a mistake she had made.
A mixture of her tears and IV’s blood dripped from her chin, and the sight sent a shockwave of excitement through III’s body. He was ecstatic to have a partner in all this, to get to experience his wildest fantasies with his best friend. To share this new side of him with his best friend.
“Now for the fun part.” He whispered, more to IV than to her, but the words caused her heart to sink, she felt the resolve fly from her body– there was no salvation for her. The coppery tang of his blood on her tongue that had once tasted like victory now tasted of defeat. Not only would she die at their hands, she would die with their repulsive presence invading her every sense.
III felt the familiar rush of euphoria as the blade pierced through her belly, her muffled scream like a favorite song heard on the radio. He didn’t miss the way IV’s hip pressed slightly into the couch, spreading a wide grin across his lips.
This would be the fun part, indeed.
Hours later, III laid down in his bed, resting an arm behind his head as he replayed the events of the day, that same grin still plastered on his face. He felt his eyes drifting closed, sleep ready to take his body when he heard the sound of his phone vibrating on his nightstand. His heart leaped at the sight of your name, and your sweet message.
i guess you turned in early tonight. sweet dreams, i love you <3
As he laid back down, his eyes falling shut one more time, his mind conjured up the most beautiful plan for you.
A special surprise.
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One of the things I actually loved about Stede and Ed’s relationship in season 1 is how soft and kind they are to each other (when others are not, see the crew and Izzy). Very quietly protective.
Ed makes Stede feels special and interesting, all his little quirks being charming instead of lame.
Stede listens and values Ed and his feelings. He validates him wanting to better himself or wanting to find who he can be outside of the Blackbeard persona.
All those little kind gestures for each other, like the treasure hunt where Stede tries to give adventure to Ed. And Ed, thanks to a little push from Lucius, sees it for the loving outreach that it is.
I’m not ready for them to be at odds in season 2, but they both have a huuuuge potential for pettiness and bitchiness so it will be hilarious.
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