#dark!bill

Warnings: Non-con/rape fic, abuse, degradation, forced impregnation, swearing, just plan evil Alex, Bill being a creep, Black Reader but anyone can engage

He was so unpredictable; you never know when the next high or low will strike you, but the trick is just to flow with the tide. Or should I say, roll with the punches. 

It was currently 7:18pm and you've got the roast in the oven, the veggies and sides on the stove, but none of that matters because you’re preoccupied being tossed around like a rag doll. 

Yes, he gave you clear instructions; to be kneeling at the door when he got home. That’s all you had to do, but then your phone rang. Your work phone, and if you wanted to keep your well deserved job then you had to answer it. You had your back turned to your office door when you heard the front door open. You didn’t turn around because you knew who entered. You silently cursed under your breath as your co-worker realized the time and decided to let you go. 

No, keep me on the phone. Please don’t hang up. 

Your silent pleas fell short as you said your goodbyes and you had to face the giant in the other room. The phone is set down on your desk, you take a deep breath and turn to leave your office. When you turn around, you’re met with a menacing glare.

Neither of you say a word, but you stand there shakily. 

“Alex-” you finally break the silence, but only to be met with a harsh crack to your face. You lose your balance but catch yourself on your bookshelf. You turn around with a new fire in your eyes, “Goddamit! You can’t do this to me just because-” 

He lightly popped you in the mouth. 

“STOP HATING ME BECAUSE OF MY JOB! NONE OF THIS IS MY FUCKING FAULT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” 

There you were, on the white shaggy rug in your home office that was now stained with crimson droplets that came from your plump, and now purple bottom lip. This is the third time this week you’ve been in this very situation, but this is by far the worst. You knew he was stressed and you overworking wasn’t helping because now your schedules don’t match up, but that was no excuse. It took you a second to remember your surroundings and where you are.

Before you could even properly comprehend, you’re being lifted off the floor and dragged to the living room. There, you’re met with eyes you didn’t know were present. He’s just sitting there. Why wasn’t he helping you? You thought he was your friend.

You were thrown down at Bill’s feet. You tried to grasp on to him, but you were dragged back by your feet. At this point you didn’t know what was happening or what was going to happen, but nothing prepared you for what was to come.

⚠️FIRST AND FOREMOST⚠️: If I ever hit a touchy subject in a piece and you want to talk about it (whether it’s criticism, personal stories or if I get something wrong/gave misinformation and you want to let me know), my dm’s are always open.

“You think that he’ll protect you? Your Doctor... He won’t. I’ve seen it.”

Powell Estate was dark. Cold. The rain had finally stopped, but a biting wind cut through the air, and even the shadows seemed to shiver.

“I know what happens to you.”

She’d been watching the blonde for days now. Ever since the TARDIS had evaporated into thin air. She had watched, and waited, as the woman -- her friend (well... used to be, anyway. Lifetimes ago) -- went about her silly little days, not a care in the world. Poor Rose.

Miss Razor stepped out of the darkness, blocking the younger woman’s path to the apartment complex, her wide brown eyes studying Rose’s face. Her lower half was fitted in tight black leathers, and she had a matching jacket draped over her shoulders. But her torso was bare. After all, there was nothing to cover -- just the obsidian tinted metal slab, falsely silhouetted to give her mutilated body the false image of humanity. The woman formerly known as Bill Potts smiled.

More recoloring sketches... don’t ask... oh...