Monsters In The Dark #20

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

Monsters In The Dark #20

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.

More Posts from K-marzolf and Others

1 year ago

Monsters in the Dark #19

Dark themes, ptsd, nightmares, abandonment issues, language, fear, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

Monsters In The Dark #19

Billy tossed and turned, a cold sweat breaking out over his body. He couldn’t find you. His heart raced, as adrenaline coursed through him. He called for you and called for you. Nothing. He ran around an abandoned looking hotel, frantic. The silence was deafening.

He tried to calm himself, use tactics that they’d taught him in the Marines, but he was too frantic.

Attachments were a weakness, and he’d created his own with you.

Sometimes it looked like you’d ghosted around a corner, but you were never there. All he heard was the whistling of the wind. It was maddening.

Billy woke up gasping for air, and reaching across the bed for you. It was empty.

He wiped sweat from his brow.

Fuck.

What if it was real? What if someone had taken you? He remembered climbing into bed with you, but nothing felt real right now.

He threw the duvet off, bolting out of the bedroom. There you stood in the kitchen at the fridge, a spoon in your mouth as you looked up at him, innocently.

“Billy?” You asked, pulling the spoon out of your mouth.

He moved around the island countertop, and grabbed you, crushing you to him. His heart rate returned to normal, feeling your very real form against him.

“What’s wrong, Billy?” You asked, letting him hold you, peeking up at him.

Billy licked his lips; “Couldn’t find you,” he rasped, clinging to you. “I don’t believe in fairytale endings, life has proven time and again that nothing lasts forever. I know someday we’ll be parted from each other, but I thought it came sooner than I expected.” Billy explained, hating how desperate he sounded. He hated being weak.

“Don’t say that. I’ll fight Heaven and hell itself to make sure we’re together forever. Never gonna let Billy go.” You whispered, clinging to the spoon in your hand, and to him.

God, you made him want to believe in forever. But it had never been proven to Billy. He remembered getting free ice creams from this kind older black man when he was still in the group home. But one day he died because he’d gotten shot accidentally in a drive by.

The one person who cared about Billy had been cruelly ripped from him. Billy just knew someday you’d be ripped from him just like Mr. Avery.

That his enemies would either kill you, or old age or illness would take you, or maybe you’d just leave someday, tired of him.

Billy kissed you, fingers digging into your hips. “You swear?” He rasped.

“I swear. I’m with Billy until only death parts us.” You said, and waved the spoon in his face. “Want some ice cream?” You grinned trying to lighten the mood.

Billy smiled, relaxing. “Yeah, baby.” He hummed, “I’d love some.”

So there the two of you ended up, at half past two in the morning, sharing ice cream.

For now, Billy was content not to think about the past or the future, but to just enjoy the moment with you.

For now.


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2 years ago

{Monsters in the Dark #2}

{Monsters In The Dark #2}

Billy’s mind, explicit language, kissing, roommate au, fem!reader.

324 words.

+++

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

You felt tears build in your eyes as you wasted your last quarter trying to get the stuffed elephant out of the claw machine. You watched with trembling lips as it fell.

It was such a silly thing to cry over, but you had always been sensitive, something your father had bullied you over.

You sighed. It looked like you weren’t getting the elephant.

x

“Oh, baby. What’s wrong?” Billy asked, approaching you from where he’d left you to grab some beer.

He couldn’t help but feel his pants tighten at your teary eyes. He was gripped with a sudden fantasy of taking you against the claw machine.

Your dress straps would slip off your shoulders, as he’d bunch up your skirts around your hips. He imagined you teary eyed, “Billyyy.” You’d beg your lips trembling.

He wouldn’t care that people were watching, he’d only be focused on your warm, wet cunt. He’d kiss you, swallowing your sweet sounds, how the machine would move with his thrusts.

“Billy?” You asked, drawing him back to the present.

He blinked, before clearing his throat. “Yeah?” His cheeks were flushed, and you wondered where he went.

“Want the elephant,” you pointed to the soft stuffy in the claw machine.

He gave you a smile baring his teeth, before pinching your cheeks. “Alright, baby.” He said, putting a coin in the machine. You watched eagerly as he slowly directed the claw over the elephant, before grabbing it.

You squealed when he won it for you, with an ease you’d struggled with. He bent down and grabbed it, holding it behind his back. “Gimme a kiss, sweet pea.”

You pressed a warm kiss to his lips, tongue shyly slipping into his mouth. He smiled into it, before handing you the stuffy. “Thank you, Billy.” You said, hugging the elephant to you.

It made him feral at how sweet you were. How little things affected you. “You’re welcome, baby.”


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2 years ago

ok no I'm still annoyed about what they've done to anne elliot. why must every heroine be beautiful, smart, confident, witty, flirtatious, funny, independent, firm-minded etc.?

what about shy women? humble women? lonely women? women who are just sad and a little bit pathetic? not firm enough to speak their mind? not strong enough to know their mind? who are riddled with anxiety and embarrassment? who have genuine faults and mistakes they regret but are too mortified to acknowledge? who know they are being taken advantage of but who keep sacrificing their own happiness to maintain the peace and reputation of their family? who are smart in their own way and happy with that even if it doesn't amount to anything that can be paraded around as a talent? do they not deserve to have their stories told?

I've had enough of snark!!!!! enough of smugness!!!! i wanna see a heroine who is so miserable and lonely and who feels everything so deeply and who yearns so bloody hard for years that she collapses when he finally gives her that letter!!! i want pathetic pining!! i want miserable social interactions!!! i want stolen glances and subtle questions and agonising despair until a confession so cathartic that i faint with her!!!! i want to feel something real!!!!!!!!! god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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2 years ago

//Monsters in the Dark #9//

Dark themes, mentions of abandonment, anxiety, codependency, kissing, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

&&&

//Monsters In The Dark #9//

The clock ticked overhead, and you chewed your nails, nearly down to nothing. Billy had been gone for hours after having left you with Frank and Maria. He was dealing with someone who had come after his client.

He’d left when the sun was still up, it was dark now. Maria had tried to soothe your worries, “Billy’s very capable. He’ll come home.”

It didn’t take away the anxiety from your stomach, the heavy feeling in your chest that another person had abandoned you.

You moved to the window, watching for the headlights of the car. The clock ticked, and you wanted to rip it off the wall, as it measured Billy’s absence.

You thought of your mother. She had always protected you, but she couldn’t help herself against your father. She’d killed him as she went down in flames.

Your heart ached. Billy protected you, but could he protect himself? You’d lost so much, that the idea of losing more was crippling.

Headlights flashed across the driveway, your heart rate picked up, as the car shut off and the sound of a door being opened and closed could be heard.

You could hear his feet on the gravel pathway leading up to the house.

You ran to the front door as it opened, and Billy stepped through. He looked tired, but when you pulled him down for an eager kiss, he hummed and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, nipping at your bottom lip.

You pulled back, “Welcome back, Billy.” You said, trying to mask your relief. But he could see. He could always see.

Billy nodded to Frank, before taking your hand and pulling you out of the house, and towards his Wraith.

“Missed you, baby.” He whispered in your ear, before ushering you into the passenger seat.

You relaxed as he walked around the car and got in, starting it up. You admired him as he turned the heat on for you.

He was back. He was safe.


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1 year ago

one moment my hand is holding yours and then suddenly it's reaching out for something that's no longer there


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1 year ago

Hozier writing Francesca: what if every horrible thing you've ever been through has led you, or will yet lead you, to someone you love so much you'd do it all again. What if the suffering is all worth it, not from a religious standpoint but because of someone you love. What if that's all there is - heaven and hell couldn't care less about us, but we care for one another. We endure the unspeakable for one another. What if heaven won't let us in but we wander together through the darkness for eternity knowing we acted in love and having no regrets. What if heaven can't contain people of complexity and passion like ours. What if we were offered the opportunity and we said we'd do it all again.


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1 year ago
“When The Band Went To London, Nicks Scoured The Flea Markets In Chelsea And On Portobello Road For
“When The Band Went To London, Nicks Scoured The Flea Markets In Chelsea And On Portobello Road For

“When the band went to London, Nicks scoured the flea markets in Chelsea and on Portobello Road for Victorian lace — “the real deal,” she says. At five foot one, Nicks likes anything with volume that gives her more stage presence, like the endless shawls and scarves she spreads wide into wings. (Among the boxes packed for her spring tour, there’s a giant bin marked Stevie’s saris.) And, along with the platforms, that iconic top hat added height. “I found a top hat at a thrift store in Buffalo, New York, on our first tour, and I loved it,” she says. “Now I have several. It really became part of my look.” 

 Harpers Bazaar, 2011


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2 years ago

listen. l i s t e n. listen. kudos does not equal quality. popularity does not equal quality. i have read some “fandom classics” that i could barely fathom how boring or terrible i - personally - found them, and i have stumbled across some absolute gems that didn’t even break 100 kudos. 

what is good doesn’t always get the recognition it deserves. it’s sad, but true. just because you haven’t - or possibly never take - off in fandom doesn’t mean your work isn’t astounding and beautiful, it doesn’t mean you should stop writing; it just means that a very select corner of the internet missed the diamond in the rough. 

fanfiction is flooded with content, there are so many of us out there producing it these days, and having a fic that takes off is almost as much about luck as it is about talent. never let a few artificial numbers on the internet dictate to you what is and isn’t worthy writing. 

additionally, you don’t have to read or enjoy fics just bcs they’re big. i cannot count the amount of times i’ve read the first paragraph of something fandom adores and immediatly exited out of it.

just… do what makes you happy. write what you wanna write, read what you wanna read. understand that while we all want recognition - and some deserve it more than others - we did not get into fanfiction for that recognition.

recognition is good, but sometimes we get all tangled up chasing it and stop enjoying writing and reading and fandom as a whole along the way. be careful of that, please, or you’ll burn yourself out.


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2 years ago

him grabbing ur thigh while he is driving >>>

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36. | because we are living in a material world, and I am a material kitty. | my cat, probably. Masterlist I

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