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#Anyway…
boneywones · 3 days
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mer/leviathan au that im starting to make.. obviously i chose to make classic’s design first
will make a poll later abt whos design i should do next because i have literally no idea (yes i will include all the sanses that i will add to it)
(classics design was based off of a betta fish)
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http-byler · 1 year
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☆ HOME ☆
and it feels like coming home, like Christmas morning with the people you love, like crayon masterpieces on walls, like impromptu dance parties in the kitchen. it swallows you whole and tucks you safely into bed. a nightlight, quelling the horrors of your mind. a balm, soothing and warm. home, as it turns out, has a heartbeat.
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the-auguer · 24 days
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Fright Night
Just a li’l something that’s been sitting in my drafts for a while. It was titled ‘the girls are fighting’ so do with that what you will.
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Mammon’s nails dig a little bit into your arm. It’s not harsh or purposeful. It just happens. Like how his arm constricts around your chest and squeezes you a bit too tightly. You crane your head to stare at him. His eyes are a harsh blue, the yellow near his iris ablaze, and he’s not looking at you. 
Belphie retracts his arms slowly, a frown marring his previously soft face. 
“Mammon.” he says slowly. Tightly, like Mammon’s arms. “What are you doing?”
Mammon’s grip tightens a little. You push at Mammon’s chest, and try harder when he doesn’t budge. 
“Mammon, let go.”
Mammon glances down at you. “What?! Why!?”
You glare at him. “You’re squeezing.”
Mammon’s hold on you loosens, but he doesn’t let go. You push uselessly at him again, unwilling to Order him, but getting close to it. 
“Mammon,” Belphie says again, his light frown beginning to pull into a scowl. “Why?”
“Whaddaya mean, why?” Mammon snipes back. “You were touchin’ them.”
“We were hugging.”
“Yeah, and you’re not allowed.”
“Not allowed? Then what are you doing?”
“Wha— well obviously they want the Great Mammon to hold them. I’m allowed.”
“And I’m not?”
“No!”
“Why?”
Mammon splutters. “Why? Be-because you’re not allowed, that’s why!”
Levi snorts, sinking deeper into your bed and not glancing up from his D.D.D. “I’m telling Beel that you hit Belphie.”
From his hold, you feel Mammon’s body tense. “I didn’t hit him!”
“You shoved me,” Belphie says, confusion fading into anger. “When I hugged them, you shoved me.”
Beel walks back into your room, a tower of snacks in his arms. He drops them irreverently to the ground and they crackle and crunch at his feet. “Who shoved Belphie?”
Levi cackles. “Mammon.”
Mammon startles, backing both you and him up a few steps. “I did not!”
“Yeah, you did,” Levi sings.
“Yes, you did!” Belphie yells. 
You drive your hand into Mammon’s face to  create more space between the both of you. You were just trying to watch a movie. Why did watching movies always evolve into shit like this? It’s not fair. 
“Let go, Mammon. Now.”
“No!” Mammon shouts, obviously panicked as both Beel and Belphie begin to advance on him. Levi lifts his D.D.D, obviously recording. 
“Why not!” You yell back, wedging your elbow against his cheek and push with all your might. Mammon squawks and tries to pry your arms off his face. 
“Because!”
“No one should push Belphie,” Beel intones, moving closer and closer. 
“They’re not something you can hog all to yourself, Mammon,” Belphie says darkly, in step with Beel.
“Let me go right now!” You shout. If this continues, there’s going to be a dog pile on Mammon and you are not the slightest bit interested in the broken bones that will follow if you get caught up in that. 
“Fight, fight, fight, fight,” Levi chants.
“Mammon,” you scream as Beel gets closer. He’s so obviously focused on Mammon and not on you. Maybe Beel doesn’t even see you right now. “Now!”
“No! He’s not allowed!”
“Why!” Belphie howls.
“You’ll hurt them!”
Belphie freezes his prowl forward, and you pause your attempts to pinch under Mammon’s arms. 
Levi lowers his D.D.D. Beel stops moving entirely. 
Mammon’s eyes dart around anxiously, sensing the change in the room. 
He laughs nervously. “Yeah, you’ll just hurt them, so it’s better for me to hold them. See,” he jostles you, “no harm done.”
You shove Mammon harshly. “Get. Off. Me! Get off me now!”
Surprisingly, Mammon lets go of you this time. His eyes are big and wet. “Why?”
He looks hurt, and usually you would backtrack right about now. You would assure him and explain to him. Sighing, you try. 
“Belphie won’t hurt me.” You say, tiredly. You motion for Levi to put his D.D.D down. “Is this about how you were late? I told you what time I was starting the movie and you decided to stay out shopping.”
“No, it’s not,” Mammon says, sounding petulant. “I’m not mad because of that. I’m mad cause yer lettin’ him touch all over you and he’ll hurt you!”
“No he won’t,” you say, exasperated.
“No I won’t,” Belphie presses.
“No he won’t,” Beel echoes, confusion evident in the furrow of his brows. 
Levi stays quiet, his D.D.D laying on the bed next to him. 
Mammon is your friend. A close friend, even if he’s really bad at being a friend sometimes. You try to understand, despite the throbbing of your head. 
“What do you mean, Mammon? You have to expla—“
“Whaddaya mean, whaddaya I mean?” Mammon interrupts, frustrated. “He already did! He— he—“
Mammon clamps a handful of his hair in his fist, tugging ineffectually. “He hurt you.”
Mammon’s eyes are more than just wet now. He’s tearing up, staring at you imploringly, worse than when he begs you to hide him from Lucifer. It’s almost too much for you to bear. 
Belphie snarls. “That was before— that was because I— I said I was sorry! I’m not going to do it again! You’re just jealous they want to spend time with me, so you’re making up excuses!”
“No I am not!” Mammon yells back, tears disappearing under a rare bearing of fangs. “I’M their first, so there’s nothin’ ta be jealous of! I’m bein’ honest here!”
“You know why you’re their first?” Belphie says dangerously. Beel puts a worried hand on his shoulder, but Belphie shakes it off. “Because Levi threatened them into it to get his money back! They didn’t want to form a pack with you, they had to.”
Levi sank deep into your comforter, mumbling something indistinct as he attempts to be absorbed by the sheets. 
“It’s different now! And that doesn’t matter anymore!”
“Mammon‘s right, Belphie,” you say. “It doesn’t. But both of you need to calm down so we can talk this through.”
“Talk through what? How Mammon thinks I’ll hurt my contractor?”
Beel moves forward, pressing a hand on Belphie’s chest. “That’s right,” he stresses, brows still drawn together. “Belphie has a contract with them. He can’t hurt them.”
“Yes,” you agree, pouncing on Beel’s statement with vigor. “No one in this house can hurt me. See? It’s all fine.”
You glance at the clock, prepared to make an excuse about how late it is and how you are oh so tired and they’ll have to watch a movie another night. 
“But Mammon hurt you,” Levi pipes up, peering out from inside the cocoon he made out of your blanket. “Just now. You’re bleeding.”
You glance down and yeah, the skin of your upper arm is a bit red and there are small cuts where Mammon’s nails had dug in. They’re not bleeding, per se, but they are raw pink and surrounded by ripped skin. 
Mammon almost falls over with how hard he startles. “What! I didn’t— but I didn’t— I didn’t mean to! That was an accident!”
You poke experimentally at your arm. It stings, but no more than it should. You’re fine. 
“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.”
You try to smile soothingly at Mammon, who is staring at you like you are the killer in a slasher film, his honey brown skin pale and stricken. 
“Hypocrite,” Belphie crows vindictively. “All that talk and you’re the one who hurt them!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Mammon swears, louder than before. 
“Are you okay?” Beel asks worriedly. He plucks a bag of chips off the floor to press into your hands. “Eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”
You open the bag eat a chip to stave off his fretting. “I’m fine, Beel. It’s fine.” You look at Mammon meaningfully. “I’m fine.” 
“Go-good. And what the hell, Levi!” Mammon shouts, gaining back steam. “Why’d ya have to go and bring that up?”
Levi burrows tighter into your blanket. You wouldn’t be surprised if there’s rips stressed into it by the end of the night. “Just leveling the field. Now everyone in here has hurt them. Balanced team. Every RPG needs a balanced team. All the Seven Lords hurt Henry before they became friends. It’s the way it is.”
Everyone shifts uncomfortably at that. The air around you is suffocating. You suddenly ache to be the one in Levi’s cocoon. Preferably alone. 
“Thank you, Levi,” you grit out frustratedly. “So. Much. Since this conversation is over, I think I’m done with movie night. You all can go back to your rooms.”
Belphie startles. “What did I do? It was Mammon that started this!”
“Belphie.” Beel glances at you, uncertain and guilty in equal measure. You want to hide in your closet to avoid his gaze. “Let’s just go. We can talk about it later.”
Levi slowly extracts himself. He looks at you like he wants to say something, but turns away instead. 
Mammon clenched his fists. “I wanna talk more. Are ya sendin’ me out cause I hurt ya? I didn’t mean to, honest.”
“I know Mammon, and I’m fine,” you sigh. “I’m tired, though. We can talk later.”
Belphie shakes Beel off again. “Sure. We can talk later.” He gives Mammon a nasty smile. “We’re all on the same team, after all.”
Mammon is across the room in the blink of an eye, Belphie’s collar clenched tight in his hand. Belphie rises to the tops of his toes and snatches Mammon’s collar in return. 
“I am not on the same level as you. As any of you. Because I never tried to kill them.”
And there it is. Exactly what you were hoping would never be said. Ever. 
“I never almost killed them. I never actually killed them! You did that!” Mammon yanks at Belphie’s collar. “Ya killed them! And said sorry ‘cause a’ Lilith! Ya didn’t mean it!”
“Yes I did!” Belphie howls. He releases Mammon’s collar to claw uselessly at Mammon’s hands. His horns curl out of his hair and his tail lashes behind him like a provoked cat. “I meant it! I meant it, you selfish bastard! You just wish I didn’t cause you want them all to yourself!”
Beel is shifting from foot to foot, obviously longing to step in or speak up, but does not move. His eyes are locked on Mammon, unsure. He doesn’t seem scared, but he is uncertain. Levi moves between your table and the wall, like the added barrier puts him further away from the situation. 
“Ya didn’t! Ya killed them! Ya killed my best friend! I had ta watch them die!”
Mammon is not in his demon form, despite Bephie’s bared fangs and the flashes of purple singing through the air. He holds Belphie captive like it doesn’t mean anything, like Belphie’s struggles to free himself don’t require the smallest hint of his demonic power. 
“Stop it.” Your fists clench. “I don’t like this.”
Mammon continues to yell, and tears are falling freely down his cheeks. Belphie curses him, screams his name and damns him in every way he seems to know how. 
“Ya don’t know! Ya laughed! Ya laughed when I cried an’ they weren’t breathing! No one cared but me! They were dead an’ no one else cared!”
The shockwaves of Belphie’s power grow more drastic, more erratic.
“You didn’t notice I was gone!” He bellows. “Lucifer kept me in the goddamn attic and you thought I was playing nice with humans! You were supposed to be my big brother! You were supposed to come for me!”
“How could you?” They both wail and wail and wail. 
Why.
Why did you have to break up the fights between beings that are thousands of years older than you? Why did you have to be the one with the level head in a room full of people that could kill you on a whim? In a simple accident? Is it because you dared to care about them? Is it really that bad to care about them? God help you, you care about them so much. 
Shouldn’t this feel vindicative? Shouldn’t you feel better now that the confrontation has happened, feel more seen? Shouldn’t you want your housemates, your friends, to acknowledge you and your past pain? Why did you feel so drained and defeated, then?
Maybe because you were always going to die. 
From the moment you arrived in that throne room with the most powerful demons that gave less than a shit about your continued existence, you were always going to die. Maybe it was not a possibility but a race of circumstances. A race of who would do it first.
Leviathan in the Tales of the Seven Lords trivia competition, the first to charge at you. His scornful gaze as he verbally contemplates the pros and cons of killing you. The force in his eyes as he made you a pawn in a game of revenge against his brother. 
Beelzebub in the kitchen, your room in shambles afterwards. The knowledge that that could have easily been you. His flat, hungry eyes in the student council room, and a few more places beyond that. 
Lucifer in the crypt, bearing down on you with the light of heaven’s finest and looming power of the right hand of the ruler of hell. A hand clamping down on your injured wrist. Lucifer time and time again reminding you of how easily he would kill you if you stepped out of line. Would. Not could. 
Asmodeus’s hypnotic gaze training itself on you dozens of times, certain you will yearn for him, certain you will bow to him. His annoyance when you do not. Cerberus’s breath lashing across your heels as you run, heart plummeting to your stomach. 
Satan’s room, green flames licking at the walls and beginning to scorch your skin. His claws reaching for your throat. 
Mammon. Mammon never… but he did. He left you for dead, time and time again in the beginning. He was told to watch you, to guard you, and he left you in the clutches of demons. Again and again. 
And you were so focused on the contestants in front of you, the ones already at your throat, that you didn’t think to look out for the knife behind you. The hands at your neck, the bind around your trachea, the arms around your chest. The sight of your own body, limp and lifeless. 
Belphegor. 
Where was Lucifer? You reach into the pocket of your pajama pants, scrambling for your D.D.D. 
Your shaking fingers manage to navigate to Lucifer’s contact, and you find you can’t do more than hit the call button. The dial tone is lost in the cacophony of your room, and you find you can no longer see Beel or Levi past how hazy Belphie’s power is making you. 
Your D.D.D falls from your limp fingers, and you find your eyes getting heavy.
Well… well shit.
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fiishes · 8 months
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Good doggy?
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hagenwo43 · 3 months
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Off Season Pt7
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unexpectedbrickattack · 11 months
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Waitin for this damn plane to take off
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flowersforfrancis · 8 months
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I adore messy annotations.
A page suffocated by scrawls, scribbles, lines, arrows, circles, highlights, all near illegible. As though the reader couldn’t contain those thoughts. They were overpowered by emotions and ideas. A ruler-less underline because you read that quote and the pen couldn’t be in your hand any quicker. Scribbled sentences that require the book to be turned upside down or on its side to be read again. Exclamation marks, because you’re at loss for words and the author said it best. Books of mine start with ruled lines and perfect hand writing, but by the end are sometimes too messy to be reread. I find messy annotations the most beautiful, the most intimate.
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howdoyousleep3 · 2 months
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Husband just had me fighting for my life during sex it was incredible
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ode-to-fury · 7 months
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Something about media literacy being really low… something about reading and listening comprehension being not as good as it should be in the average person… something about so many people hating on Gale because of a fundemental misinterpretation of his character….
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muckyschmuck · 2 months
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they should invent a water color paper that doesn’t Curl Strangely
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alwyswnadie · 2 months
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now ….
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henderdads · 1 year
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Steve and Eddie are forced to enter into what they both think is a loveless marriage. But the two of them are crazy about each other, they just suck at communication.
On their wedding night they stay in separate hotel rooms. Eddie stops by Steve’s room to tell him they should go get dinner.
Steve scoffs and starts pacing the room as Eddie enters.
“What you’re not hungry? I’m sure there’s plenty of food down there.”
Steve snaps, “I don’t want any dinner! I have spent the last three days wanting to be alone with you wanting to talk to you wanting to know…”
He swallows hard, avoiding eye contact as he continues to pace, Eddie staring at him, “I understand that you don’t wanna see me. That you’d rather stay in your own room and endure a wordless dinner together on our wedding night but I-“
Eddie cuts him off, “That’s not what I want!”
“Eddie.”
“You don’t get it.” Eddie continues to look at him.
“You’ve avoided me.”
“Yeah. In order to allow you your freedom.”
“You’ve barely said anything to me.”
“In order to keep myself from saying the wrong thing.”
“You can’t even look me in the eye!”
“Because I can’t bear witness to the misery I’ve caused you!” Steve yells back.
“I… It’s my fault we’re in this marriage Eddie. I forced you into this.”
“What? Steve no. It was MY fault.”
Steve stares at him, unable to find words.
Eddie continues, “I’ve spent the last three days in agony. Unable to talk to you. Unable to be alone with you because I knew you wanted nothing to do with me.” Steve goes to speak but Eddie keeps going, “Which is totally understandable because I forced you to make an unimaginable sacrifice. You wanted a life with children. A family. You wanted a life with someone you truly- ugh, you wanted a love match! And yet…”
Steve cuts him off, “And yet this couldn’t be any more different. Is that what you want to say?”
They look at each other for a moment, neither knowing how to move the conversation forward.
Steve sighs and turns around, “I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute.”
He focuses on his breathing, willing himself not to cry.
“Everything I told them was true. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Steve turns to face Eddie.
Eddie slowly makes his way across the room towards Steve, “Every morning. Every night. All the time. You’re all I can think about. I’m yours Steve. I have always been yours.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
Eddie scoffs and heads back to the doorway, “Not sure how to make myself any clearer.”
“Well don’t get mad at me!”
“I’m not angry”
“Well you look like you are. Like come on look at you- you’re beet red.”
Eddie starts pacing, “Yes that’s what happens!”
“Yeah when you’re angry at someone.”
“When one burns for someone who doesn’t feel the same.”
“You… Burn for me?”
Eddie shakes his head, “Why do you think I followed you that night?”
“Why do you think I left? If you had even looked at me this week for longer than two seconds you would have seen. It’s you I can’t sacrifice. I burn for you.”
Eddie lets out a shaky breath as he closes the distance between him and Steve. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss him. It starts short and chaste before Steve breaks away to look at him again, immediately kissing him back. This time with more intent, grabbing his shoulder as he deepens the kiss.
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bioloyg · 4 months
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Fundamentals for the Fun and Mental Rated E, 70.6k words
It's been weeks since Carmen Berzatto found himself locked in the walk-in on the opening night of The Bear, but if you asked him, he'd tell you it felt like it happened yesterday. If you asked anyone else... well, they'd tell you these past few weeks have felt like a lifetime. Which is exactly why Sydney and Natalie decide to send Carmen on vacation.
“You need a reset,” Sydney says, plain and simple. “Like. Yesterday. Whatever the mental equivalent of a palate is – yours is fucked.” “Thanks. For that.” She’s not wrong, but Carmen doesn’t have to like that she’s right. He closes his locker and slings his bag over his shoulder. “I don’t really have the time for a reset right now, Syd.” Her eyebrows fall into a neat line across her forehead, but her expression is wry. “Of course you don’t. No one does. That’s why you have to make the time. So… make the time.” “Oh, totally,” Carmen says. “Do you have a recipe for that? Or should I just try pulling that shit out of thin air?” Sydney rolls her eyes. “Alright, smartass.”
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kissingchoso · 3 months
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merry christmas to myself
abby anderson x me mood board :)
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stranger-rants · 2 years
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I was thinking about the fact that Billy teaches kids to swim at the community pool, again. Teaching requires a lot of patience that many would assume he doesn’t have. You have to manage your emotions. Be calm. Know when to be tough and when to be kind. All things he tends to struggle with, yet there’s no indication that he’s not good at his job. So…
There’s something weird that happens when you’ve got childhood trauma with no good parental role models but you’re suddenly put in a position to teach children because you have no real basis on what’s normal but you have to find a way to help them regardless. Children are small people with big emotions and it can be overwhelming because no one told you it was okay to be that full of feelings at that age.
So instead of relying on the adults in your life to show you how it’s done, you have to ask yourself how you wanted to be treated as a child even if you didn’t get it and sometimes you mess up but other times they look at you and tell you that you’re the best and pick dandelions for you from the grass and you cry and you cry and you cry privately because you wish the child version of you had you as a parent.
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bonesblubs · 3 months
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…S-Sweeney Todd Beefleaf AU …
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