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Hi! Dove here on my main.

What's the location in your dashboard photo? It's beautiful!

Hi, Dove! 💜

I found it on Pinterest, it was taken in Portland, Maine. It is very beautiful. I love Lighthouses, and Nautical themes. :)

freeze! ✧ ─=≡Σ((( つ•̀ω•́)つ you’re under arrest for being so lovely. copy this message to 10 other blogs (only if you want to) that you think are beautiful and deserve it. keep the game going and make others feel beautiful. 💓

You’re so sweet. Thank you, my friend.

{Soft}

Part of the Monsters in the Dark universe.

Soft!Billy, mean!Billy, kissing, dacryphilia, roommate au, fem!reader.

216 words.

+++

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

“Oh, baby.”

You were sniffling, trying to hide it from your roommate, as you closed your book. But he’d noticed, as you hid your face in his chest.

“Let me see those pretty tears,” he hummed, pulling you from your hiding place. He cupped your face as the tears fell. Your book had ended sadly, and the two characters who you thought were going to end up together, didn’t. You explained it to him.

He licked the saltiness off your cheek, marveling at you. He loved how soft you were, how little things like a romance novel could reduce you to tears. It reminded him there was good in this world. He kissed your mouth, feeling himself grow excited at your crying.

He pulled you into his lap, brushing hair from your face. His thumb teased your bottom lip, and you sighed. “They didn’t get together, now what?” He teased you.

“Billy is making fun.” You pouted, making him grin.

“Poor baby, am I being mean?” He said, laughing.

“Yes,” you told him petulantly. He laughed again, pinching your cheeks.

“Can’t help it, you’re cute when you cry.” He smiled. “And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours,” you said, snuggling into his chest.

He felt warmth bloom in his chest at your admission. All his.

Remember Me

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

“Billy?” You murmured one night, curled up against him, warm and drowsy, watching him in the dim lightning of the room through sleepy eyes.

“Hmm?” He hummed, letting you know he was listening, as he turned the page in his book. He liked to read before bed.

The night before he’d read a bit of The Song of Achilles to you.

“Will you remember me, like Achilles promised to remember Patroclus?” It was a foolish thing to ask of him, but you were so in love and enamored with him.

He sat his book down on his chest, watching you, the light casting harsh shadows across his face, and he was silent for a long moment before speaking; “Will you remember me?” He asked, reaching over and touching your face.

It was these sweet moments at night you desperately cherished.

“Forever.” You said, earnestly.

Billy’s fingers touched your lip, “I’ll remember you.”

His heart ached at the thought of you dying. As though a part of him had died, too.

He would protect you, he swore, if only for his own selfish desires.

I feel like it's so easy in the plush community to always get caught up in looking for the 'next one' to add to the collection, I know I sometimes get stuck in this, so here's your (and my) reminder to value and cherish the plush you have, make fond memories with them, and love them! Always focus on the present and what you have rather than what you "could" have, plush are the best!

@gathermoments

i love your blog!! been following for just a bit but it’s crazy bc we have the same interests. i mean, billy russo, stevie nicks, and marilyn? they’re unrelated 😂 but i love em. love your taste hon.

Thank you! 😘 My interests are all over the place, lol. But I always get excited when I find someone who shares them, or at least some of them. 💜

Monsters in the Dark #14

—attempted assault, blood, canon typical violence, mentions of an attempt of reader’s life, trauma, flashbacks, ptsd, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You were terrified as you hid in Billy’s closet, listening to them ransack the penthouse, your hands over your ears.

Memories resurfaced of you hiding in the woods, bloody and afraid, waiting for your mother who never came.

Your father had taken her from you.

You were shaking when one of them opened the door, finding you crouching amongst Billy’s clothes and shoes.

“What do we have here?” He said roughly, grinning and grabbing your arm and yanking you out.

You tried to claw at his face, trying to get away, screaming. He slapped you so hard your head turned, and your heart raced.

You were going to die or worse.

x

He had you pinned on the bed, pawing at you. You had tried kicking him several times, but he hit you twice. “Be good, girlie. You might even enjoy it.” He gave you a sinister smile.

“If you have to force women into bed, you can’t be that good!” You sassed him.

He backhanded you again. You were sure you’d bruise tomorrow; “Watch your mouth,” he growled, ripping your shirt open, making buttons fly. “Need to teach you a lesson in respect.”

You spat on his face, as Billy stormed in looking furious. You felt relief swell in your chest. The intruder let go of you, seeing Billy covered in his comrades blood. He looked like a god of war, covered in his enemies blood, fury written across his face.

Billy struck as fast as a snake, slicing your attacker's throat with his hidden blade, over and over again, until bone and sinew showed, and his blade stuck out of his neck at an odd angle. The intruder gurgled over you, spraying you with blood, holding his throat before collapsing on the bed next to you.

x

Billy hummed, watching you reach for his face, wiping the blood off his lip with your fingers, almost mesmerized by him and his violent visage, her eyes dilated. Aroused by his killing of another.

It aroused him. God, you were perfect for him, he thought.

His face no longer held the fury at someone touching you. He looked gentle now.

Like your mother when she shot her husband, and then turned to you. A fierce warrior turned gentle caretaker.

Images churned in your head, the sounds of Chopin, the smell of freshly baked apple pie, a pristine white piano splattered with blood, and your mother wiping your face.

“Mama wiped my face,” you said suddenly, voice soft. You’ve told him before, but it felt good to talk about it.

Billy looked at you, obsidian eyes warm. “I was playing Prelude in A Major, op. 28 no. 7. Chopin. I missed a note. Daddy was angry.” You recalled, trembling.

Billy lips brushed your head, “You could play for me, if you wanted.” He said. There’s a piano in the penthouse. You’d always looked at it longingly, but fear always took over. What if you missed a note?

You shook, fear at missing a note taking over again, and even though you knew Billy would never hurt you like your father; you were still afraid. “Don’t want to.” You mumble into his chest, clutching his dress shirt in your hands, noticing specks of blood on it.

Billy hummed, “When you’re ready then, baby.” He fixed your hair, tucking it behind your ear. The same hands that have shed blood violently, treated you like you’re porcelain. Treasured.

You wanted him to know he was treasured too, but the words don’t come; words had always been difficult for you.

He set the cloth aside, helping you out of your bloody clothes, and handing you one of his t-shirts. You sniffed it. It smelled delightfully like Billy, you couldn’t put your finger on what the scent was, probably his detergent, but it was comforting.

You laid with him that night after his men cleaned the mess up, his touch grounding you as he stroked your spine. “I hope we can be together forever.” You mumbled sleepily, fingers playing with the scar on his hip. You couldn’t stand the thought of losing Billy, you’d lost so much.

Your fingers dug into his hips, as if by might you could keep him by your side. That by your own power he’d never disappear if you just held onto him tightly enough.

Billy held you tighter, too.

If Billy had his say, you would be together forever, even if he had to drag you down to the underworld with him, like Hades took Persephone.

His grip on you tightened further.

Forever.

Lavender.

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

Warnings; grumpy!Billy, dark themes, and hints of abuse from reader’s father, kissing, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

x

You came in excitedly, seeing Billy waiting at the door for you, arms crossed, “Billy—“

“It’s been raining cats and dogs outside. Where the fuck were you?” He growled, his worry translating to anger. He was not at all used to worrying after people.

You pulled off your coat. You were soaked through, dripping on the floor. “Getting you this,” you said softly, unconcerned with his temper, soft with him as always, pulling out a bundle of lavender. “It promotes sleep, if put under your pillows.” You said.

Fuck. You were so sweet.

His cheeks flushed, and he looked down. Your socks and everything were soaked from the downpour.

“C’mon.” He said shortly, making you follow him down the hall and into his room. Billy knew you were disorganized and had forgotten to do your laundry.

He pulled out a sweater and some sweatpants. “Put these on,” he said, before leaving the room.

While he waited his heart raced. He wasn’t sleeping well at all lately, and being a Marine he’d learned to go on very little sleep. But sometimes he wanted to sleep without the nightmares.

He usually ended up sitting up in the chair by the window, drinking whiskey.

But you’d thought of him, and spent your own money on him. It made him ache.

He peeked in, and saw your back as you put his sweater on. You were scarred terribly, it looked like you’d been stabbed. You turned as you pulled it down, smiling at him.

“Who hurt you?” Billy asked, trying not to be so aggressive, but whoever hurt you that badly deserved pain beyond comparison.

He helped you tie his sweatpants, they were falling off your hips, you watched him frowning, and wished to smooth the lines on his face.

You leaned against Billy after he’d tied them for you, “My daddy didn’t like me. But—“ you dug around in your bag and pulled out some chamomile tea. “This can help with sleep, too.” You said, watching his expression.

He was stunned. Most people weren’t thoughtful, they didn’t think of Billy. But you’d always thought of him, always wanting to take care of him, or dote on him.

But he hated your father for the scarring on you, he could only imagine what he’d done to make those scars.

Billy’s fingers cupped the back of your neck, pressing a kiss to your mouth, making you press closer eagerly.

“Thank you, sweet pea.” He said, hoarsely.

You smiled softly, “I can make you the tea before bed.” You said against his mouth.

“I’d like that.” He said, surprised by how violently he’d been taken with you, how badly he wanted you. You weren’t what he usually went for.

But when your eyes lit up, because he was going to let you make him some tea, he felt possessive of you. He kissed you again, and you encouraged him with your sweet sounds, the way your fingers tangled in his hair.

He was well and truly fucked.