How Come You Don’t Write As Much Anymore?

Monsters in the Dark #13

—kissing, biblical references, dark themes, mentions of Billy being an orphan, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

“Tell me you love me,” murmured Billy, knees on either side of your hips, pinning you to the bed, lips brushing yours. He needed it, and hated that he did. That he was still that orphan, looking for affection.

“I love you, Billy.” You whispered. And God, you did. So much that it consumed you, made you ache for him every minute you were apart.

“Yeah?” He hummed, fingers pinned your wrists down, as his nose brushed your neck.

“Love you like David loved Jonathan in the Bible. I love you as my own soul.” You told him, earnestly.

Billy’s treacherous heart ached. He kissed you hard, tongue slid against yours. You moaned sweetly, and arched. Your wrists burned at the force of which he held you down.

“I love you too, baby.” He admitted breathlessly, and felt his heart race at the admission, even though he’d said it before. He loved you with a terrible fierceness that had him rendered asunder. Attachments were a weakness, and he’d unwittingly created his own. He hadn’t been entirely prepared in sharing a relationship with you. Your sweet acquiescence was his undoing.

But he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, especially with the smile you gave him, that was brighter than the sun.

i used to feel the need to defend my love of villains by saying shit like "just because i like them doesn't mean i condone their actions" etc...

but now i'm just like: no no, they deserve a little murder and destruction, as a treat ✨😌

Moodboards;

The monsters make me hide, perhaps I’ll eat myself alive.

My flower, withered between the pages two and three.

And it’s my whole heart.

I became insane.

Little House in the Big Woods.

Grandma’s house.

Powerful.

Character moodboards;

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity!🍄🌵

Thanks for the ask, Kim! 💜

Books. I’ve always loved to escape into a good story.

My pets.

My mom. We’ve been through so much together.

My reader’s/mutuals here on Tumblr.

My best friend. 19 years I’ve known her! 💜

The good feeling when a little cat rests their head against you like you’re a pillow is actually pretty significant

Monsters in the Dark #20

Death, angst/fluff, dark themes, mentions of abandonment and issues surrounding it, bitterness, kissing, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

The graveyard was cold as winter waned into spring. The ground was muddy, and Billy hated how it ruined his pristine dress shoes.

You were standing next to him, arm wrapped around his elbow as he stared at the fresh grave marker, “Carla Russo,” it read above the dates of her birth and death.

You looked up at him, “Are you sad?” You asked softly, gripping him tighter as you readjust on the soft ground. You were sinking a little.

Billy’s lip curled, “No. She didn’t care about my life, I don’t care about her death. It’s just a relief not to have to pay for her hospital bills.” Billy admitted, a bitter tone to his voice.

He hated that he was so bitter, but once again she had abandoned him, this time by dying. Billy hated that he felt abandoned, he thought he was over this.

But he felt like a boy again, standing at that fire station asking when she was coming back. He wanted to shatter the grave marker. He wanted to hate her, but deep down he knew he’d been hoping up until the day she’d died that she’d want a relationship with him.

I’m a goddamn fool, he thought.

You laid your head on his arm for a moment as you both stood there in silence. The wind blew and Billy wondered silently if she was free from her addiction. A big part of him hoped her soul was trapped here, still in the grips of it.

It seemed too kind for her to receive peace after abandoning her child.

“Billy’s pain could be mine, if he wanted.” You said, drawing his gaze down to you. “I would take it all into me if I could, but I could at least share in it?” You asked sweetly.

Billy swallowed. You were the only reminder of anything good in this cold world. The one thing that made him believe in anything good.

He turned to you, cupping your face in his gloved hands, before kissing you, as if you could share in his pain. And maybe you could, because standing there in the crisp spring morning, he felt just a little bit better with you standing next to him.

When he pulled back, he nudged your nose with his. “You already do, baby.” He squeezed your hand, “Let’s go home. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

You giggled, “Can we have hot chocolate?” You asked, following him carefully out of the muddy cemetery.

Billy smiled, “Sure, baby.”

His heart felt lighter with you by his side.

“do you really wanna be on that medication for the rest of your life :(?” yes actually I would love that. I know what I’m like off it

Play

A Drabble set in the Monsters in the Dark universe.

—dark themes, abandonment, abuse (mentioned), sexual abuse (mentioned), kissing, fluff mixed with angst, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

It was when the nights were quiet, and neither of you could sleep that Billy played for you.

His fingers skillfully flew across the keys, while you sat next to him, cheek pressed into his shoulder, eyes closed as you listened to him play.

It wasn’t something he shared with many—the hardened Marine, a virtuoso.

“It was my escape in the group home, music.” Billy had told you, laying in bed one evening after you’d caught him playing.

His fingers had laced with yours as he spoke; “Especially after Arthur. Didn’t want to think, so my teacher got me set up with classes. I guess I was bein’ a troublemaker. Actin’ out.” He recalled, voice low.

Then, one night you hadn’t been able to sleep, and neither could Billy. You asked him to play for you, “Please, Billy? You sound so good.”

“Sure, baby.” He’d said, and you’d both traipsed into his living room to play.

Billy wanted you to play with him, but he knew the trauma your father had caused, and didn’t push it.

“My dad was always harsh on me when I missed a note.” You whispered one evening. “It started so many fights between my mom and him. He swore I was coming between them. Mom said she’d always choose me.” It was the most you’d spoken on the subject.

Billy felt the same way as your mom did. He’d choose you every time, too.

There was a pause, and you said in a small voice; “My dad didn’t want me. I was just a disappointment to him.” You mumbled.

Billy stopped playing, looking over at you; “Did you ever think he was just trying to justify his shitty actions because of guilt?” He knew a little of your father, who had been physically and emotionally abusive. You had talked a little about it.

It always made Billy silently rage, the things your father did to you.

But otherwise you rarely spoke of it.

You chewed your lip, “Maybe.”

“I think it’s more than maybe.” Billy said, tapping your nose. “You were a kid. None of it could have been your fault, especially not him hurtin’ you.”

“But maybe if I was better, a good girl—“ you began, but Billy grabbed your face making you look at him.

“Baby, it wasn’t your responsibility to be better for him, it was his responsibility to be better for you.” He kissed your mouth, lingering. His fingers tangled in your hair, letting you cling to him.

“Wanna hold onto Billy forever. So you can never leave me.” You said, gripping his hand.

Billy kissed you, he wanted you to hold onto him. His own abandonment issues lingered. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby.”

You shivered pleasantly. His words brought you comfort. His hard kiss soothed the hurt in your heart, as you clung into him.

Sometimes you wanted to climb inside his heart, and stay there warm and safe, where nothing could touch you.

His heart was your safe haven.

Maybe yours could be his.