I'm A Simple Girl. I Just Want A Man With Nice Eyes, A Sharp Jawline, Questionable Morals, And A Fondness

Bloody

a Monsters in the Dark Drabble;

—blood, violence—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist

The first time you got a glimpse of Billy’s tendencies for violence, was when he came home one evening covered in blood. You’d come bounding around the corner to greet him, only to stop dead in your tracks.

You moved closer to him, Billy tracking your every move, like you were a scared rabbit who was going to run.

“Are you afraid, baby?” Billy asked, moving towards you, in his tactical gear, pulling his gloves off. You were in only his t-shirt.

“No, Billy.” You said honestly, surprised by how much his visage excited you, made you want to kiss him, taste the tang of blood on his tongue.

He reminded you of your mother, fierce. The last time you saw her she was covered in blood, defending you. For you violence equated to love in some way. You didn’t ask why he was covered in blood, who he’d killed, because you were so sure Billy would never hurt you, and that you were selfish no matter what he thought.

“Yeah?” He asked, stalking towards you, baring his teeth. “You like monsters?” He taunted softly.

“Billy’s my monster.” You said, pressed against him, fingers clinging to the fabric of gear.

Billy’s mouth was on yours, making sigh, wrapping your arms around Billy, staining your shirt red with a dead man’s blood.

“I could clean you up,” you said, when he pulled back, kicking off his boots.

He gave you a wry grin. “Sure, sweetheart.”

ppl who don't get cats will try to argue that cats don't love you meanwhile cats will cry and cry and cry and cry like the world is ending until you hold them like a baby and give them a kissy on their perfect lil forehead

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Leonard Woolf, featured in The Selected Letters of Virginia Woolf

Monsters in the Dark #12

—dark themes, talks of Billy’s kill count, alcohol consumption, kissing, possessive behavior, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You were straddling his waist while he laid back on the bed, sharing a glass of wine with him, his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. You couldn't help but admire him beneath you. His fingers danced across your thighs, making you hum. The rain pelted the window, and occasionally lightning lit the room up. Billy could tell you wanted to ask him something, but were too shy to ask.

"Spit it out, baby," said Billy, taking a cheeky sip from your wine glass. His obsidian eyes were shining with something dark. It excited you.

"Who was Billy’s first kill?" You asked finally, wiggling your hips making him hiss, his hands moving to your waist with a bruising grip, as you slowly rocked against him, enjoying the friction.

"A target over in Iraq. I don't even remember his name. But I sniped him from a rooftop." He told you, "I had nightmares for a while about it. Your first kill is always the hardest. I used to wonder who he was. Did he have a family? A wife? What made him a terrorist? But now I know to not let my thoughts go there, easier to kill when they're faceless."

You stroked his face, "Would you kill me if I became your enemy?" Your lips brushed his mouth, licking into it making him groan.

"You plan on bein' my enemy?" Hs teased, eyes fluttering at your soft touches.

"No, but what if I did?" You insisted, letting your fingers slip underneath his sweater, feeling his muscles twitch under your touch.

His fingers dug into your waist, as he rolled his hips into yours, making you keen with an ache for Billy alone. "I'd punish this pussy, make you see the error of your ways." He purred, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

"But what if I persisted?" You whined, as his fingers teased you.

You were suddenly flipped over, pinned beneath him. "You'll always be mine, no matter what. Even if I have to hold you in chains, pretty girl." His hands trapped your wrists as he rutted against your hips, making you moan.

"You promise?" You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist, holding him to you.

"I promise."

Committing myself to post more vtm art I've made after some Minimal bullying (but not really)

her name is Yuejian ‘Yue’ Li. she is a Brujah from Washington, DC. and was embraced during the early 2010’s.

shes Too anxious for the dots of Strength she has on her sheet lmaoo. but that probably makes sense, since she has the "Ingénue" merit.

Friendly reminder to all the writers on here:

You don’t owe anyone good writing.

You don’t owe anyone a complete storyline written in order.

You can jump around. You can abandon projects. You can write really shitty stories! Writing is about telling stories and creating worlds. Not about what makes your followers happy.

I have to remind myself of this a lot, because in most of my stories I’ve gotten stuck and don’t know where to go. But you can jump around. You can skip parts. It doesn’t matter.

Write what makes you happy.

Monsters in the Dark #8

Dark themes, mentions of Billy’s abandonment by his mother, dark fluff, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

&&&

It was quiet that evening. You both laid on his living room floor, Billy lost in his thoughts, watching you read Shakespeare while he played with your hair.

He shook himself from those thoughts, knowing they were growing dark, thinking of all the ways he was sure you’d eventually leave him.

The ways he’d drag you back. But stopped himself, knowing if you truly wanted to leave, he’d let you go.

Even if it made his chest fucking ache.

“Read to me,” Billy murmured, lips brushing your head.

You shuddered, enjoying Billy’s touch, and began to read;

“These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.” You recited, softly. Your fingers played with the edge of the paper.

Billy watched you, admiring you, and kissed the corner of your lips. He was the Devil, but for you? He was Godly vengeance on your enemies.

You loved Billy at his darkest. But you didn’t seek to save him. You knew you could not, instead you stayed in the darkness with him.

Like Persephone had chosen to stay with Hades by eating the pomegranate.

He stroked your cheek, “I’m damning you.” He spoke, startling you.

You shrugged, a smile played on your lips. “It’s my choice, Billy. It’s not on you. A God who is supposedly for free will but punishes you for not choosing Him is maybe a God I don’t wanna choose.” You told him, leaning into his touch.

“You’d choose me over heaven?” Billy asked, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“I don’t wanna go to a place I can’t follow you.” You said earnestly. “You cut off someone’s fingers for me just because they threatened me. What has God done but watch my father abuse me? My mother had to step in, and He didn’t defend her, either.”

Billy was a selfish bastard. He rarely cared about anyone but Frank and himself, but he fucking ached at the thought of you suffering eternal misery for him.

He grunted as you pushed him back, discarding the play, and climbing on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, thighs on either side of his hips.

Silence reigned, but it was comfortable, the clock ticked over the TV, and New York bustled below the penthouse.

He remembered Curtis bringing you over, a fragile woman, scared of so much, shaking the first night at the door to his bedroom, begging to let you sleep with him.

How he’d been hooked the minute you’d crawled in, fingers clutching his shirt. You reminded him of the boy he’d been. How he’d cried at the fire station, wondering why his mom had left him there, and when she was coming back.

He’d marked you as his since then, and swore to protect you, swore that no one would ever hurt you again, after hearing from Curtis the tales of your father’s abuse.

Billy gripped your hips, angry thinking about it. He wanted to drag your father from his grave, and burn the bones. No. No one would ever hurt you again.

If only he knew, you felt the same way about him.

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!

Send this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile!!! ♡♡♡

💜💜💜💜 aaaaa, I needed this today. Thank you, Kim!!