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#violent romance!
brain-sturgeon · 27 days
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If I had the skill and will, I’d be making a Gristol dating sim where you have the option to marry him and/or beat him with sticks.
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skysurfing · 7 months
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unforeseen situation
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thelaurenshippen · 5 months
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ah yes, the sweet sting of rejection from a billion dollar corporation who believes that "action stories don't appeal to romance audiences", welcome back my old familiar friend
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celestialwrites · 3 months
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“they were just being mean-”
“what is their first and last name? home address? what about family members?”
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lunian · 3 days
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Not only romanced Gale will wait for you if you fly away to fight Vlaakith (in my case it was Lae'zel's origin) but yet he is missing you dearly even if you turned a mindflayer
GET A MAN WHO LOVES YOU THIS MUCH🥺
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the-overanalyst · 1 year
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unhinged, bloodthirsty women and their gentle, moral boyfriends >>>
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frnkiebby · 4 months
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frank sweaty AND on the floor AND The Face™️~🎃
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twstbookclub · 8 days
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Sharp Teeth, Tough Love
Summary: You caught Floyd's interest the moment fire and chaos erupted in the Mirror Chamber. One chance meeting gave you the nickname Shrimpy, and another left Floyd sinking deeper into the depths. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Floyd Being Floyd, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce and Grim Shenanigans again, Unrequited Feelings, Floyd's POV (I hope yall remember whose nickname belongs to who) Word Count: 3, 044 If yall needed to know, I wrote this on the same day I wrote the Riddle fic. My brain is spent on these two, and I couldn't be any happier. I wish I could end this another way, though. Poor terrifying and violent Floyd. One thing to note, it's really fascinating how he only calls someone by name if he really respected them. Also, if yall catch that reference to one of Floyd's lesson chats, I will love you forever. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy again 💕
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Floyd could never forget the first time he saw you.
Your face was twisted into a flabbergasted frown, mingled with distress, confusion, and exasperation. The cat monster—he’ll call it Baby Seal since its tiny height and gray fur reminded him of one—ran amok and spewed fire everywhere. Kalim’s screams rang in the air, followed by Crowley’s indignant shouts. He watched the chaos unfold with intrigued eyes and a widening grin, revealing sharp teeth and a thirst for more wreckage.
Amidst the smoke that billowed and swirled in the Mirror Chamber, you stood in the middle of it. The harsh glow of the fire pierced Floyd’s eyes, but all he saw was your silhouette surrounded by dying embers and crackling flames. Just as his gaze landed on you, your head swiveled around to look back at him. As if some invisible force compelled you to find the eyes that burned into your figure.
He wanted to see you again.
The next time he saw you, you were with Baby Seal and those two freshmen in Heartslabyul: Crabby and Little Mackerel. Even Goldfish and Sea Bream were with you. The six of you lurked in the courtyard, as if trying to spy on something. Whatever you were doing, it caught his attention.
“Careful, Floyd,” Jade simpered after he followed his brother’s line of sight, “don’t scare the fish away.”
Of course, Jade already knew what Floyd was thinking with one look. There was a reason why they chose each other and survived the coldest, harshest waters.
“Yeah, yeah.” Floyd flippantly waved away Jade’s words with a languid grin, before he snuck on the group. It was laughable, how they didn’t notice his tall and gangly figure slink in front of them. The six students spoke in hushed whispers, too engrossed in their conversation to see the shadow that loomed over them. His eyes roamed each freshman, checking the fresh meat, but they lingered on you.
You looked so small, and he had to tilt his head down to see your eyes. Back then, during the entrance ceremony, you hunched over as if to curl into yourself. Small and weak and afraid.
Floyd’s lips stretched from one ear to the other. He’ll call you Shrimpy.
“Oh ho ho! What is up, Lil’ Goldfish?”
Goldfish jumped, sputtering and floundering like a fish caught by its prey. The rest showed varying degrees of surprise. Sea Bream’s smile became strained, and Floyd could see the junior sweat a little. Crabby flinched, while Little Mackerel took a step back with wide eyes. His fists were raised to his chest, and Floyd’s eyes narrowed at that.
Huh, one of them was ready for a fight. Interesting.
His attention shifted to you, wide eyes fluttering in disbelief. You craned your neck to look up at him with parted lips. As Floyd engaged Goldfish in a conversation more like interrogation, he felt like he was floating. It’s as if he could run around the track field without breaking a sweat from the look you gave him.
He wanted to see more of that. He wanted to see you more.
Your gaze drifted to Jade, and you froze. Floyd brushed it off as fear. That was how people usually reacted to them, anyway. It was nothing new. He focused on the conversation with Goldfish without sparing your reaction another thought.
One sunny day, a few days after that chance meeting, Floyd saw you in the courtyard again. You were with Baby Seal—he always was—along with Crabby and Little Mackerel. The latter two stood in front of you, who sat on the edge of the fountain. Baby Seal was standing next to you with this annoyed look. Meanwhile, the Leech brother was lounging on the grass. Alchemy class bored him, so he decided to skip and bathe in the sunlight on the courtyard.
None of them seemed to notice him. Floyd watched, still bored out of his mind. He was debating on whether to spook the group or otherwise, when he heard you laugh.
You tilted your head back, letting the sun illuminate the smile on your face. It was a toothy grin, one that crinkled your eyes and emphasized the chub of your cheeks. He barely saw the color of your irises, and your unrestrained laugh echoed in the desolate courtyard. You even snorted.
You tilted your head back so much that you tipped over and fell into the fountain with a loud splash. Floyd snickered, ignoring the warmth in his chest and the flutter of his heart. Howling laughter followed your fall. Crabby clutched his stomach and doubled over. Little Mackerel held back a smile as he flailed, unsure of how to help you, in front of the fountain. Baby Seal was laughing his ass off, belly flopping on the edge of the fountain.
He decided to stand from his spot and help you, since the entire thing entertained him. Although, when he stood tall and took a step towards the fountain, he paused. You were drenched in water, from the top of your head to the tip of your leather shoes. Locks of hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks. Your uniform clung to your skin, and it looked uncomfortable. Despite all that, your smile remained.
“You assholes!” You laughed with a loud wheeze, happy and carefree with that toothy and blinding grin. He could clearly hear you laugh and sputter, even with Crabby’s and Baby Seal’s loud snickers and laughter. As he watched Little Mackerel help you—and fail, because you slipped back into the fountain—a thought nagged at his mind. 
What should I do to make Shrimpy laugh like that again?
“Hey, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, grin too wide and sharp to be considered friendly. Little Mackerel and Crabby stepped back, as the sophomore grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the fountain. Your hand shot out to grip the edge, while you stood from the water.
“Need a lil’ help?”
“Oh merciful Seven—” Floyd pretended not to notice how your vocabulary changed in just a few months— “thanks, but how much did you see?”
The fact that you nonchalantly accepted his help, that you didn’t flinch from him, made Floyd’s heart do somersaults and cartwheels. The corners of his lips stretched towards his ears. He squeezed your arm and watched you step out of the fountain.
Water dripped from your uniform, and Floyd observed the droplets fall from your hair and fingertips. He briefly wondered what you’d look like if he dragged you into the sea. Would you be surprised? Would you scream?
Would you laugh and call him an asshole, like what you did earlier?
“What answer do you wanna hear, Shrimpy?” He teased, still grinning and holding your arm. For some reason, Floyd didn’t want to let go.
“The one that doesn’t embarrass me, thanks.” You chuckled, despite the other three freshmen being silent spectators of this interaction. As you thanked him again and flicked the water off your hands, Floyd couldn’t help but grin wider.
Another month passed. After that admittedly hilarious outburst from Azul, you became a regular at Mostro Lounge. You visited during the weekends, even if you were wary at first. You fell into a routine, just as fast as how you picked up on the lingo in Twisted Wonderland.
You walked in during the weekends and stayed for as long as an hour and thirty minutes. (Yes, Floyd kept count.) You’d talk to either Jade or himself, depending on whoever was waiting tables at the time. Azul passed by at times to make sure you were having a good time, obviously to maintain Mostro Lounge’s good reputation. After a few visits, Floyd began to monopolize your attention by literally taking over server duty during the days you visited.
Even if he had to subtly threaten Azul with profit loss via property destruction and sabotage.
“Hey Shrimpy,” Floyd drawled, sitting across from you in one of the booths. It was a slow day today, and all you ordered was a fruit shake. A history book was opened to some page Floyd didn’t care to know. Notes littered your table, and your penmanship occupied his attention a little.
That was, until he grew bored of the sounds of pen scratching paper and the clinking dishes in Mostro Lounge.
“Hm? Yeah, Floyd?” You asked, flipping a page and jotting down something on your notebook. The tall merman pouted, before he reached over and snapped your book shut. Before you could even react, he snatched it away and lifted it far from you.
“I’m boooored. C’mon, play with me!”
Floyd grinned when you stuttered and glared at him. Your reactions always amused him, moreso whenever you were irritated or angry. Something about the way your brows furrowed and your nose scrunched made him want to tease you more. When you began to flail your arms and make animated gestures, that was when he knew you were really fed up.
“You—” You sighed and stood up, trying to reach for the book. Floyd only lifted it higher, and he didn’t even need to stand up. The corner of his lips twitched, while he watched you struggle and stretch to snatch the book back.
“Floyd, give it back! Please? I promise I’ll—”
There was a reason why he always tried to annoy you. You’d always promise him something in the end: treat him to lunch, hang out with him in the Lounge, watch his basketball matches (even if you were there for Crabby, too). It was the only way he could spend time with you without outright asking for it.
Floyd wasn’t an idiot. He knew he liked you, and it all began with that incident involving the fountain. Even Jade pointed out the many times Floyd’s face lit up every time you were around. He couldn’t ignore how much his heart pitter-pattered every time he saw you. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t grinning every time he caught sight of you. The way his name rolled off your tongue made him giddy enough to want to throw you over his shoulder and skip class with you.
If he had a choice, he’d drag you to the deepest parts of the sea and keep you to himself.
The book was plucked out of his hand, but your own hands were empty. You owlishly blinked, and so did Floyd. Both of you stilled, until another voice broke through the quiet hustle and bustle of the Lounge.
“It’s not nice to play with the food in front of you, Floyd.” Jade smiled, the kind he usually wore that fooled anyone into thinking he was the safer option between the two brothers. It was still funny to Floyd how everyone gravitated towards Jade, only to realize the jagged teeth behind that fake smile of his.
You took your book from Jade with an awkward smile. “Ah, thanks, even if you said something subtly backhanded…”
“It’s my pleasure, Prefect,” Jade answered, his smile never wavering in that moment. Careful hands gripped the book and slipped it off his gloved one.
Without missing a beat, you set the book aside and asked, “How are you then, Jade? You and Floyd are usually together, but I haven’t seen you in a while.”
The book remained shut, as if you weren’t trying to get it back from Floyd to study earlier. The lazy smile he had dropped into a thin line. His eyes drooped as he watched the conversation between you and his brother. On the other hand, Jade still wore that perfected smile of his with a hand over his heart.
“I’ve been doing fine. Thank you for asking.” Jade hummed before adding, “I found this lovely new specimen—another species of fungi—while on a hike recently. You were interested in mountain hiking and foraging, am I correct?”
“Oh, yeah.” You laughed, light like tinkling bells. It was a stark contrast to the boisterous laugh you usually had. Floyd’s chest tightened, and his hands clenched into fists under the table.
Letting your laughter die down, you continued with a smile, “Can I join you next time? If not that, you have terrariums, right? Can I see them some time?”
Your smile was small and practiced. Whenever you smiled, it was always toothy and the corners pushed your cheeks up. Now, it reminded Floyd of a prissy princess who had been sheltered all her life. You smiled like a noble that faced the aristocrats in hopes of a good impression. You smiled like the guests his parents had, trying to curry their favor, while he and Jade grew up.
You solely focused on his brother, as if Floyd wasn’t sitting right in front of you for the last hour. Your book and notes laid forgotten on the table. Condensed droplets began to drip from the glass, and the fruit shake was forgotten as well. Even when the edge of one of your transcripts became wet, you didn’t bother moving it away from the glass.
Floyd wasn’t an idiot. Of course, he wasn’t.
His eyes flitted towards the smile you had, softened with an emotion he didn’t want to see. Your own eyes appeared brighter, livelier than whenever you were with him. Even when you sat down, your body was angled towards Jade as you leaned on the table with crossed arms.
His mood soured in that instant, and the pitter-patter of his heart dulled into silence.
Floyd scowled, standing from the booth and shoving his hands in his pockets. You jumped a little, while Jade watched him with that carefully crafted smile. He didn’t bother explaining himself. Jade knew already, and he didn’t owe you anything. You’d only take this as Floyd sulking because his brother ruined his fun.
“Whatever,” he mumbled and trudged out of the restaurant with an air of annoyance. Everyone who happened to be in his way immediately skirted around the Leech brother. One wasn’t fast enough, and Floyd’s arm knocked the tray out of the poor student’s hands.
His scowl deepened. He loomed over the terrified boy with his jaw clenched and eyes glinting ominously. The aggravated tone rang clear in his voice when he threatened, “Watch it, or do you want me to squeeze ya, huh?”
The Heartslabyul student silently despaired about his lunch. He was too intimidated and afraid of Floyd to even squeak. The merman left Mostro Lounge with a scowl and his fists in his pockets, like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn’t bother looking over to see your reaction.
Floyd was growing irritated at the thought that you’d give all your attention to Jade. He’d rather not see you make goo-goo eyes at his own brother. He didn’t want to think too much of it. Maybe he’d find something to do; something to get rid of this itch in his chest and fists.
If he couldn’t, then Azul would just have to deal with Crowley later. He wasn’t going to sit in that cramped office and get lectured by a headmaster that preened over his and the academy’s reputation.
As Floyd stomped through the portal that led back to Night Raven College, his thoughts veered towards you and Jade. His mind conjured every memory he had of you: how you perked up every time you saw Jade; how you always asked about him, even if you thought you were subtle about it; how you subconsciously gravitated towards Jade every time he was there—
A pair of Pomefiore students skittered towards the wall as Floyd passed by. A shadow loomed over his scowling face, which accentuated the dips and curve of his mouth. His blood boiled, and his footfalls grew heavier with each step. If he went on like this, Floyd would dig potholes in the corridors with his feet alone.
He always saw your smile brighten and look dainty around Jade. Your laugh grew softer, restrained and freakishly refined. It was as if you deliberately controlled yourself to look more appealing to his brother. It was annoying Floyd more than it should.
He liked you, even when your body tipped back and doubled over from laughing so much. He liked you, even if your laugh sounded like a dying whale. He liked you, even when you snorted so hard that it hurt your nose. He liked you, even when you smacked him on the shoulder out of exasperation. He liked you so much that he was tempted to tickle you in front of Jade—just so he could hear your loud and carefree laugh again.
He wanted all of you, even if you were weak and frail and helpless. He just wanted you.
He already hated how cheesy he sounded, but his heart called out for you with each waking moment. The image of your smile overlapped with his memory of your laugh. Your name was scrawled in his mind, his heart, his lips, his very soul. Floyd already knew it was bad if he was being poetic, sappy, and romantic like Seagull.
So, why’d you like Jade? His brother could care less about you in that sense. Floyd was already annoyed that Jade moved things behind the scenes: making sure that you were alone with Floyd as much as possible. They were brothers, but none of them would ever admit that they cared for each other out loud. That didn’t stop people from thinking Jade was the more capable and reliable brother than Floyd, cunning and mischief aside.
Floyd was the one who helped you out whenever he could. He was the one who spent the most time with you in Mostro Lounge. He was the one who made a beeline towards you every time he saw even a glimpse of your head. He was the one who made you laugh and smile, especially whenever he noticed that you were down in the dumps.
He found himself in the courtyard, and his mood soured more at the sight of the fountain. The memory of you, laughing and sitting like a drenched duck in the water, overlapped with the image. Grumbling, he kicked a pebble off the path and clenched his jaw.
“Ah…” Floyd sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before ruffling the locks on the back of his head. His feet halted right in front of the fountain, with its clear and burbling water. Looking down at his reflection, he saw your face beside his—all smiles and eyes hiding behind your cheeks. His heart felt weird, as if being strangled by some invisible force that Floyd couldn’t punch nor squeeze.
He clicked his tongue and looked away from his reflection. With a frustrated groan, he mumbled to himself, “Why did it have to be Jade, Shrimpy? I’d fight tooth and nail for ya, but it’s Jade.”
With that, Floyd kicked the base of the fountain like a petulant child. A dull crack echoed in the desolate courtyard, before water gushed out of the broken stone. It spilled through the fissure, and Floyd took a step back to keep his shoes from getting drenched.
He frowned again and stalked off to find something else to occupy his time with. The afternoon sun showered the courtyard with a golden glow, which only reminded him of the time the sunlight illuminated your grinning face as you laughed.
“Why’d it have to be you, Prefect?” Floyd mumbled, shoulders sagging and foot kicking another pebble in the way. Maybe, in the near future, he’d get bored and forget about you. His heart wouldn’t do that weird pitter-patter, and his lips wouldn’t twitch into a grin with one look at you. His chest wouldn’t grow fuzzy and warm. He wouldn’t get the urge to run to where you were whenever he wanted to see you—which was every day, honestly.
Floyd hoped he would forget about you, but you were so difficult to forget. He’d never find someone else who captured his interest this much. He’d never find someone who looked so beautiful, even if the noises that left them were unattractive and childish. Even if their smile was too wide to be natural. Even if they were fascinated by him at first sight, rather than scared and intimidated.
No one else would be like you, but you just had to like his brother instead.
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bluedietcoke · 1 year
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books i would sell my soul to read again for the first time:
the way i used to be - amber smith
the seven husbands of evelyn hugo - taylor jenkins reid
house of salt and sorrows - erin a craig
if he had been with me - laura nowlin
these violent delights - chloe gong
dance of thieves - mary e. pearson
the silent patient - alex michaelides
caraval - stephanie garber
all the light we cannot see - anthony doerr
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transjudas · 1 year
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The members of MCR in their careers away from the band and new MCR music + writing about how life can be difficult but we are strong and not alone and there is hope. (x, x, x, x, x)
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admireforever · 5 months
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A Most Violent Year
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sri-rachaa · 8 months
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You…You are full of surprises, aren’t you?
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Tourist Trapped: Smallest Emo Rythym Guitarist Falls Into World's Largest Bong Roadside Attraction, Fans in Uproar
41-year-old rythym guitarist and father, Frank Iero, was found this Tuesday morning, miraculously uninjured but inexplicably stuck at the bottom of one of America's lesser known tourist attractions, the World's Largest Semi-Smokable Bong.
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While bandmates and friends seem somewhat desperate to save their guitarist, fans seem content to pose at the scene for selfies and autographs - the latter being understandably more difficult to accomplish.
"He was small enough to get in this mess, you'd figure he'd be small enough to get out of it," frontman Gerard Way told the press at the scene of the incident. "Ah, well. He's got air, he'll be fine."
To ensure the guitarist does not go hungry, the remaining members of alternative emo rock band My Chemical Romance have come together to provide sustenance.
"See here," said Ray Toro, lead guitarist and cupcake connoisseur, "We've got all these chip bags, right? He loves these - but the trick is getting them in there. So we're kind of just chucking them in the air the best we can and hoping they'll make it in."
As he said this, bassist Mikey Way demonstrated for the assembled crowd, while his ever-supportive brother cheered him on in the background.
"That was a ten-pointer!" the frontman declared, the lucky bag of Doritos making its landing on the head of the presumably disgruntled Iero.
"Yeah," Way continued, squinting against the sun as he observed the scene. He took a long, contemplative sip of his Starbucks latte, then nodded. "He's alright in there."
While Way seems mostly unconcerned, rumors are circulating that a petition is in place to attempt to smoke the man if it receives 420 signatures in a 69 hour time frame.
In the meantime, a small gang of fans have posed the idea of assembling a crane outside the bong - not to rescue Iero, but to deliver his guitar to him so he can perform for the crowd, even in his time of distress.
Although this is certainly a trying time for the guitarist, some have expressed doubts as to what exactly the man was doing in order to have fallen into the monstrously oversized vessel in the first place.
"He went, 'I'm gonna blaze it!' and just fuckin' bolted," Way said to the press. "I've never seen him climb like that for anything. He was really goin' for it."
Foul play is not suspected.
Iero could not be reached for comment.
More to come as events unfold.
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ness-rangel · 3 months
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Oh my love
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earrlysnsets · 2 years
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Frank ranting about paper straws
x
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devildom-moss · 7 months
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Roses for you (4)
This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.
In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.
You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.
Will you be charmed by their attempts?
Four Roses - Satan
Word Count: +500
Nothing can do us apart
After a romantic stroll and a delightful stop at a cat café, Satan took your hand and led you up to your favorite overlook. You could see so much of the Devildom from up there, and the sight had an enchanting effect on you, making you feel simultaneously small and on top of the world. It didn’t matter how many times you came here, you rushed to the edge and stared out at the city every time.
“This night has been beautiful.” Satan took your hand again. His gaze followed yours as he stared out at the view of the Devildom night with you. The lights offered a cool glow to the city – a soft halo resting above the buildings.
“Yeah,” you agreed. “I’m glad the weather is clear tonight. The Devildom is gorgeous like this.”
You heard a soft chuckle from Satan’s direction. “That’s not quite what I meant. Tonight has been beautiful because I’ve spent it with you. . . Hey, MC, could you look at me for a second?”
You turned to meet Satan’s gaze. It seemed an impossible feat that his eyes could reflect the array of colorful lights – only absorbing the green into nothingness. Nothing could rival those emerald eyes, and it appeared that green light made no attempts to compare – too inferior to even be reflected. Satan cut your admiration short when he leaned in and left a chaste kiss on your lips. When he pulled back, he was holding a small rectangular – almost square – box.
“Where did this come from?” you questioned its sudden appearance.
“Magic.” Satan smiled. “Go on, open it.”
You took the box in your hands and carefully removed the lid to reveal four preserved roses: two lavender and two white, arranged in a checkerboard pattern.
The number of roses clicked in your head and made you smile. Satan was the romantic type who would declare that nothing could separate you through flowers. He was also the type to give you a bit more of a challenge. Lavender could mean enchantment and love at first sight – which given your past, the latter was not the case. The white wasn’t explicitly romantic, but it may be a symbol of loyalty and reverence. Furthermore, this was Satan, and you had a feeling he had chosen to gift you preserved roses to highlight the eternal and everlasting elements. All of this combined, especially the white roses, and made you think that his floral offering sounded an awful lot like –
“Oh,” you gasped, heat rising in your cheeks. This felt like a marriage proposal coming from him – in the same way that so many of his confessions did. You had captured his affection; now, Satan was devoted and enchanted, and he made it clear that his love was unwavering and unending.
“I mean it.” Satan acknowledged the recognition on your face and caressed your cheek with his thumb. “You have my heart forever.”
“I’m going to kiss you,” you warned him with a grin. Satan inched closer, but you stopped him by placing a finger over his lips, earning the smallest pout. “Not here. I’m going to take you back to my room and kiss you until you can’t think anymore, okay?”
Satan nipped at your fingertip, holding you softly between his teeth, and nodded. He was certain of the message he had sent. Nothing could unbind him from you; he wouldn’t let it happen.
Lucifer (1) | Mammon (2) | Leviathan (3) | Asmodeus (5) | Beelzebub (6) | Belphegor (7) | Diavolo (8) | Barbatos (9) | Luke (10) | Simeon (11) | Solomon (12) | Thirteen (13) | Raphael (14) | Mephistopheles (15)
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