#Wicked Darlings

[dashreads]

Did I find a new favorite author?

Yes, yes I did.

Rebecca F Kenney has captivated me with her writing one book after another. I enjoy the crude language the characters throw at each other and the whimsical descriptions of the world I'm reading. The emotions are raw, fast, and defining when each character bares their heart and soul. The Wicked Darlings series and the books related to it tore into me unexpectedly. There were many things I wasn't expecting and the lore is rich and well thought out. I am looking forward to reading her other books and of course buying anything related to her books.

[allithebookgiraffe]

The Classics Book Tag

Hello readers! This week we are talking about classics. I LOVE classics, but I haven’t read many in the recent years. There good, but I have to be in the mood for it. This tag was created by It’s A Book World. An overhyped classic you really didn’t like I know the Bronte sisters are beloved, but I just don’t like their books. Wuthering Heights was one I read in high school and didn’t like one…

[clownsuu]

Okay so- big fan of your Mob!Welcome Home idea, and I have a few questions. One, what's the backgrounds behind all of the characters in the Mob!Au, how did they meet, what caused them to form the "family" and how did Wally become the boss he is today? Two, why does Wally in both the normal world that you depict and the Mob!Au have a thing against Howdy and Frank being together? This dynamic just itches the brain good and I desire to know your reasonings. And three, how stupidly adorable is Frank when obsessing off the job and alone with either Eddie or Howdy? (Also your art... Lawd I want to eat it, it makes me think it's very squishy and tasty)

That first one will mostly have to wait for another day smhhhhhh, but I will say tho that Wally was just like them once- so small frail and cold. But one by one, they were all brought together slowly to form comfort- a family- a home. It all wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for Wally’s sacrifice

For two, normal world stuff is mostly just drawing Wally jealous for “just because” JDHCGDHD, cause they are the fanon stalkers of a single worm man, fun to put a lil rivalry in there just for shids n giggles. However for mob it’s a completely different reason entirely. Frank’s been acting quite strangely compared to the others. Normally, the boss wouldn’t give two shids about it, however being secretive and pulling others to the side to talk really gets on his nerves. He feels left out, Yknow?

also three, sadly there is very rarely a time where frank has time to be alone with another person. He’s just way too busy to even think about crushes and stuff, and even then, when flustered, he usually buries himself in his work ignoring the world

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yay I was the anon who asked if you watch the new John Wick film, I hoped you enjoyed the movie!

Can I request some yandere marquis de gramont headcanons? (it can be romantic or platonic)

man was the biggest prick that i had seen in a while from a movie lol

Yandere Vincent de Gramont Headcanons

A/N:You read my mind Anon lmaoo - I was literally planning on writing some HCs for the Marquis <3

Despite the initial conception one may have about Vincent's dedication to a lover – that being none – he's actually surprisingly...loyal.

While he has the playboy exterior, enough money to soak up the oceans of the Earth and all the allure that comes with his occupation, he secretly feels as if he has nothing at all.

What he wants, what he really, truly wants, is to feel something new. Something he’s never experienced before.

Love.

Not just for himself - for someone else.

His brush with John Wick made him realise how empty his life was by comparison to the Boogeyman, who lived and almost died for the memory of love.

And that stuck with Vincent. Affected him more than he’d like to admit.

But, his heightened status above most others has left him isolated with few who wish to know him in a capacity beyond acquaintances for fear of incurring his wrath with a misplaced word or an overstepped boundary.

Thus, love is almost an impossibility for the Marquis.

And then he met you.

And grew obsessed intrigued. Fast.

He likely met you in passing completely separate from his usual crowd – which is to say hunters and murderers.

And he's taken aback by you; your beauty, your charm, your personality. In a way that, while many others have tried, have never breached Vincent’s superficial interest.

Or perhaps you nurse that same melancholy void he harbours; the desire for something more. Which, divulging it to him, a complete stranger, the Marquis finds oddly endearing. Vulnerable.

He’s enchanted. The void in his chest seems to tighten somewhat. Heal.

You’ve given him what no other has before. Genuine, friendly, interested conversation. All without even knowing who he is.

Now, having to rush off, apologising with a smile for taking up his time with “Trivial banter,” Vincent watches your retreating form.

He has his sights set on you.

Over the next few days, while conducting business and going about his everyday life, Vincent’s mind keeps crawling back to you, those fateful minutes wherein he felt he knew everything about you and nothing at all.

Though, he doesn't actually want to admit it at first.

While, yes, he does want to experience true love, he is entirely unwilling to acknowledge the disgustingly human need to feel something.

So, he tries to hide it. Bury it beneath his work, French desserts and luxuries you've never even heard of.

But, over time, you spring back up in the forefront of his mind when you are no longer content with being a voice in the background. A memory of a time where Vincent felt as if he’d truly been seen.

And Vincent, passing off his secret enthusiasm as boredom, a mere meandering of memories, ‘allows’ the odd thought of you to trickle in here and there.

You are a form of medicine. Whenever Vincent feels something undesirable brewing in his chest, he finds himself back with you on that bench in the park, your warmth and presence sun rays against his face as he’s transported from one of his many mansions to beside you once more.

And, even if he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, you scratch the right spot in his psyche that material gain just can’t. Not in comparison to the human touch you have.

Gramont’s so used to people regarding him with favour or fear that it still takes him aback now how kindly you treated him, not knowing who he is or what he does.

You had nothing to gain from your kindness. And yet you still gave it to him.

Healed him with it.

Vincent’s daydreams start to grow more intense the longer he thinks about you.

An emulated conversation. Additions and projections of the recollections of your encounter, no matter how brief. Anything to let Vincent feed off the feeling you gave him when he’s exhausted the phantom of your first encounter.

There comes a point, weeks after you first met, where Vincent spends more time in these memories, both real and fabricated, than in the conscious world. And they strengthen, pulling his focus from his work, from his duties.

At first, this manifests as a glazed look in his eyes, one which, to all those who knew of him, could pen as the typical, uninterested Marquis stare.

He wears the same one in the comfort of his private rooms, one where nobody can see what he’s thinking. But now, people can see Vincent couldn’t care less about the projected bounty of this one killer from Wales; he just wants to be left alone with his thoughts.

His men have started to notice, too.

And, one evening, Vincent decides to lay upon them a task.

“I need you to find someone for me,” he says, his chin resting atop clasped hands. There is no jest, nor leniency, in his stare.

The task itself sounded easy enough. But with only a physical description to go on, not even having gotten your name, Vincent, for the first time in his life, is anxious.

Anxious his men won’t find you, no matter how deep his connections run.

Anxious that, while he’s lived in his dream world for the last month, you’ve since disappeared. Been killed, perhaps, or exposed to some freak accident.

Vincent pains at the feeling in his centre whenever he considers this a possibility. It tears the scabbing void in his chest wide open again.

Sometimes, while he lies in bed, the thought that might have perished somehow, that his men will have misinterpreted his specific instructions not to interact with you, only report on what you’re doing, plagues him.

He knows his men are loyal – that they’ve never failed a task before now. And he clings to the hope that their winning streak won’t run dry one of these nights.

One day, sat in his office, glancing over a document he’d tried reading for the last half hour yet couldn’t because, surprise, you were distracting him, one of his men came into the room.

“We have them, Sir,” he said, the image of victory. Vincent couldn’t help but scan his suit for any sign of blood. Your blood.

To say Vincent was excited is an understatement of epic proportions.

At first, he’s just numb.

Then, a few minutes later, his chest burns and sparks with an electric passion one acquires when meeting an idol.

Vincent wishes to deploy himself immediately. But he knows this is a waiting game.

So, he remains far enough away from your life that you do not suspect a single thing is wrong.

You don’t even glance over at the guy who’s been tailing you for the last few hours.

You don’t think twice about the stranger who’s been sat in perfect view of you in the cafe for the last two weeks.

You don’t even consider that the guy you bumped into earlier is responsible for your house key going missing.

Now, with access to your inner sanctum and your daily routine burned into his mind like a holy scripture, Vincent makes his move.

He stages meetings between the two of you.

Starts ‘bumping into you’.

At first, you simply recognise him, ask him how he’s doing and what he’s doing in the area.

And, Vincent, the man with an answer for everything, finds himself doing something he never has before.

He fumbles.

Even when he imagined you in a most vivid detail, nothing compares to this moment, where what he says has consequences, where he has one shot at getting this right. Or risk your uncertain stare.

He can feel fear rising in his chest as he stutters. Only once, but enough to knock him down a few pegs in your mind’s eye. At least, that’s what he thinks.

But, he completes his task, albeit not as pristinely as he wished.

He asked you out to coffee.

And you, with a signature smile, accepted.

And now, your fate is sealed.

Vincent beats himself up over his ineptitude of speaking to you like he did in his head: suave, cool, collected.

And, given the fact that he’s never had to take accountability for anything he’s ever done, he tries to blame it on someone else.

Not you, though.

Never you.

Regardless of this minor hurdle, as Vincent sees it, he purses this…friendship with you.

He isn’t used to the concept. Not in a visceral sense, anyway.

The saying ‘It’s lonely at the top’ comes to mind when describing Vincent’s relationships.

There is always a power imbalance, no matter who he’s speaking with.

He is always above them, and they are always below him.

But that’s when they know him. Know his dynamic.

You, you have absolutely no idea who he is, or what he’s capable of.

To you, he’s just Vincent, the owner of a successful manufacturing business.

No, Vincent couldn’t quite ditch the theatrics. He still needed an out to impress you – to have a valid excuse as to how he owns so many nice cars, how he never wears the same designer suit twice.

He doesn’t tone it down with the suits, by the way.

He’s too enthralled by the fascinated look you wear when you’re taking in the patterns, the chains, the craftsmanship.

Which, to his surprise, makes his face warm.

People have only ever looked at the label of his outfit, never the ensemble itself.

That’s just another of the ways you make him feel seen.

You tell him so much of yourself, yet not enough to break your mystique.

Vincent knows more about you than you think, and he uses this to create another version of himself – one which likes the same records as you (though, he unironically does enjoy them. But, he knows he likely wouldn’t unless you listened to them, too), has the same preferences for how you fold your clothes, whether you should brush your teeth before or after breakfast.

And Vincent devours every detail you grant him like a meal, saving them, storing them, testing them out in his newest daydreams when he gets home, his heart thrumming and his breathing short as an unfamiliar feeling of wholeness and anxiety overtakes him.

And yet, there is little he can offer in return.

Nothing that isn’t a lie, anyway.

He keeps you as far away from his work as possible, hence he meets you in such public spaces.

His men are always stationed nearby, disguised as civilians. Should the need for bloodshed ever arise.

Eventually, your weekly coffee meet-ups evolve into something else.

Vincent, after asking one of his men (under strict confidentiality) ”What do you do when you…like-like someone…?” starts taking you to restaurants.

He tries not to scare you off with anything too fancy, but he can’t help but feel part of himself die whenever he thinks about how dull the food here in this 5-star restaurant is compared to his usual dining preferences.

But you’re happy, thanking him for the meal with a gratitude that isn’t borne from a life-or-death scenario.

You’re not paying for these dates, by the way. Vincent won’t let you.

“I brought you here; I’m paying.”

He also has a tendency to go overboard with the gifts.

You tell him your watch is broken ? Here are five designer timepieces imported from a selective brand whose clientele is vetted and chosen by the CEO himself.

Of course, you can try to refuse these gifts – tell Vincent that you “Can’t possibly take them from you; it’s too much !”

But he plays the guilt card well.

“No, I insist,” he says, pushing them into your hands. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

If you actively wear or use anything he buys you, he’ll be overjoyed. Prideful.

You’re wearing something he got for you. That basically means you’re saying you belong to him.

Of course, he does get a little carried away with his…delusions. But he means well !

He’s just territorial.

Vincent can be a gentleman when he wants to be.

And can also be a vicious creature when he doesn’t.

He only presents one of these sides to you.

The other is reserved for his more…private affairs.

When he started feeling more intensely about you, his mind wandered to some rather unsavoury places – places that, usually, VIncent would walk through without batting an eye.

But now that he, dare he say...liked you…he felt as if he’d been drenched in cold water whenever he imagined you doing anything risqué.

So, with the steadily growing number of these thoughts, these images of you, piercing his mind, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

He beds people who look like you. 

The two of you aren’t dating yet; haven’t even held hands (though Vincent agonises over finding the right opportunity to do so).

But he still feels wrong. Like he’s cheating on you.

His sanity tries to prevent him from thinking like this, tries to keep itself intact by urging Vincent to pursue another mindless conquest.

Your name does slip out between his panting, though.

Much to the chagrin of whoever’s beneath him right now.

He wonders what you’d look like, what you’d feel like in this same position. What your preferences are.

There’s only one way to find out.

He tries turning up the boyfriend factor after he decides now’s the time to pursue you. Properly.

He sits a little closer to you whenever you invite him over for movie nights, holds you for just a little longer whenever you engage in your traditional parting hug.

And he can’t help but think about how much he wants to stay with you like this forever.

And permanence is a rare commodity for people in his line of work. No matter how many bodyguards he has, or how skilled he is.

Nothing is certain.

Which is why, one evening, lying awake in bed, he decides to act.

He knows it’s a risky manoeuvre, but he can’t deny how careless he’s been with you these last few months.

Not that you’d know, but his men have intercepted five people who’ve tried to kill you, take you – or worse.

All just to get to him.

He can’t leave you in the wide open world like this. He can’t let you be at risk. Not because of him.

So, that night, his heart in his mouth as he commands his men to “Find (Y/N). Bring them to me.” Vincent awaits your arrival.

And, eventually, he hears you. Clamouring in the halls outside his office, screaming and fighting. Resisting.

Vincent can’t help but crack a smile, knowing how defiant you are – how stubborn you can be in your method.

As the heavy footsteps of his men come to a stop outside his door, your screeching is blunted only by the thick wood.

And, doors open, here you are, shoved into the room.

Your captor revealed.

You look at him with what you could construed as almost-neutrality, your bewilderment a damper to your anger, your fear.

“Vincent,” you say, breathless. You take a staggering step towards him. His men take a step towards you, reaching for weapons concealed by their coats.

Vincent raises a hand, and they retract.

He looks at you.

His eyes are filled with nothing less than adulation, misplaced happiness in a situation you view as dire.

“Sit,” he tells you, casting a glance to the seat before his desk.

With little else you can do, you obey.

And your world begins to unravel.

Vincent, in the lamest, most gentle of terms, explains that he is “Not who you thought I was,” – that he does “More for a living than make vases and luxury dishware.”

“I,” he says, watching your eyes carefully, glassy and holding no less potential for terror. “Am the Marquis.”

Vincent stands, and when he sees you flinch, something in him withers. Hurts.

He shoves it aside.

“I am responsible for making sure that the right outcome is brought to the right people.”

His hands behind his back, pacing the length of your field of sight, he swallows. 

You’re judging him now. In a way you never had, you’re judging him.

His desire to display how grandiose his lifestyle is doesn’t seem so forthcoming anymore, hiding, shy.

This is more difficult than he anticipated.

“What does that mean ?” you say, voice tight and quiet.

Vincent’s fist clenches. He doesn’t want you like this. You should be happy he’s rescued you ! Albeit from threats you didn’t know pertained to you, but still !

“I’m…” he starts. His gaze wanders to his men, who, with perfect understanding, leave.

You almost don’t want them to go.

“I’m a reaper, of sorts,” he says. He draws closer, taking a step in your direction. You bite back the urge to flee.

“A face to a cause.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, instead watching you with what you think is scrutiny (but couldn’t be further from it), you ask, throat dry, hoarse from your screaming. Crying.

“What cause ?”

Vincent bites the inside of his lip. And, for the first time, he can feel himself cracking under your gaze.

You’re scared. He knows you are. He just wished he didn’t have to see it painted so blatantly on your features, downturned with grief should everything end on this night.

Where was your smile ? Your crinkled eyes, your sonorous laugh, your upturned lips ?

“I fix problems,” he says. There’s no way he can put his occupation lightly. “I used to do it with knives. Guns, a pencil, perhaps – whatever was at my disposal.”

He’s closer now, approaching. His arms are at his sides. And he stands before you.

You don’t want to look up. You want to look – be – anywhere but here.

But Vincent doesn’t let you.

“But now,” he says, and he gets to one knee. His hands trap you, on either of the arm rests of the chair. Yet he does not possess the face of one who is a captor, instead a mask of total capitulation to a feeling he couldn’t even begin to understand before you showed him.

“I do it with diplomacy. With people who are much better suited to that life than I.”

His voice is soft, quieter than before. There is a hint of a smile at his lips, pulling the corners, beginning the total eclipse of his eyes from full to crescent. An offset to the anxiety bubbling in his centre.

Your hands in your lap, he takes them in his, slowly, gently, fingers resting atop yours.

And he squeezes them.

Holds them. Just as he’d always wanted to.

“Why–” you swallow a sob, turn your head so you don’t let him see your face scrunch into the epitome of fright. “Why am I here…?”

Vincent’s lips part. His hand slips up to your jaw, urges you to look at him.

He’s forbearing. A butterfly.

Nothing like how his men handled you.

That in itself could almost convince you that he’s not such a bad guy. Even after all he’s told you.

“Because–” your face in his hand, he looks up into your eyes. Barely contained tears fill them.

“Because you’ll be safe with me,” he promises. There’s an unencumbered optimism in his eyes. A dangerous one at that.

“Because I can’t trust that my men can protect you when you’re so far away – alone – in the city.”

“What do you mean, Vincent ?!”

You don’t mean to snap. But since you’d just been kidnapped and the truth behind the matter is no clearer to you, you can’t help it.

Vincent almost seems to flinch, his eyes narrowing just for a second. He returns to you with his puppy stare.

“There are people out there who know who I am. What I do.”

He squeezes your hand again, his other still wrapped about your jaw.

“The problem now is that they know you, too.”

He swallows thickly, looking down for a split of a second. Guilt.

“And it’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful. Should’ve just left you alone, let you live your life…but I can’t undo that now.”

He laces his fingers between yours. And you’re too frazzled to refuse.

“What I can do, what I will do–” his hand comes to the point of your chin, holds it gently between his fingers like glass.

His gaze falls to your lips, and you try to ignore it.

“Is keep you safe. Here. With me.”

You’d have laughed if you didn’t believe everything he’d just said.

It all just made sense to you.

The lavish gifts, the people watching you that you hadn’t dared notice before because you’re just being paranoid. The hard glares Vincent would grant to all that passed you by in the rooms of higher society.

And now, everything shatters. You cry.

“Oh, non, mon Cher, don’t cry–” Vincent moves to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but you pull away. Retract from his kindness.

"You're insane–" you’re breathless, gasping between sobs

"Not insane.” VIncent tells you. He stands so he’s perfectly level with you, his eyes piercing yours. And, just as he had many times before in your presence, he smiles. Genuine and heartfelt. Then, a statement. A declaration.

“Just… in love.”

[transbookoftheday]

🏳️‍⚧️🏴‍☠️ Trans Books To Read If You Love "Our Flag Means Death" 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍⚧️

Can't get enough of Our Flag Means Death? Read some trans pirate books!

On Mar León de la Rosa's sixteenth birthday, el Diablo comes calling. Mar is a transmasculine nonbinary teen pirate hiding a magical ability to manipulate fire and ice. But their magic isn't enough to reverse a wicked bargain made by their father, and now el Diablo has come to collect his payment: the soul of Mar's father and the entire crew of their ship. When Mar is miraculously rescued by the sole remaining pirate crew in the Caribbean, el Diablo returns to give them a choice: give up their soul to save their father by the harvest moon, or never see him again. The task is impossible - Mar refuses to make a bargain, and there's no way their magic is a match for el Diablo. Then Mar finds the most unlikely allies: Bas, an infuriatingly arrogant and handsome pirate - and the captain's son; and Dami, a gender-fluid demonio whose motives are never quite clear. For the first time in their life, Mar may have the courage to use their magic. It could be their only redemption - or it could mean certain death.

(The audiobook for "The Wicked Bargain" is narrated by Vico Ortiz!)

In a world divided by colonialism and threaded with magic, a desperate orphan turned pirate and a rebellious imperial lady find a connection on the high seas. Aboard the pirate ship Dove, Flora the girl takes on the identity of Florian the man to earn the respect and protection of the crew. For Flora, former starving urchin, the brutal life of a pirate is about survival: don’t trust, don’t stick out, and don’t feel. But on this voyage, Flora is drawn to the Lady Evelyn Hasegawa, who is headed to an arranged marriage she dreads. Flora doesn’t expect to be taken under Evelyn’s wing, and Evelyn doesn’t expect to find such a deep bond with the pirate Florian. Neither expects to fall in love. Soon the unlikely pair set in motion a wild escape that will free a captured mermaid (coveted for her blood) and involve the mysterious Pirate Supreme, an opportunistic witch, double agents, and the all-encompassing Sea herself. Deftly entwining swashbuckling action and quiet magic, Maggie Tokuda-Hall’s inventive debut novel conjures a diverse cast of characters seeking mastery over their fates while searching for answers to big questions about identity, power, and love.

The Lost Boys say that Peter Pan went back to England because of Wendy Darling, but Wendy is just an old life he left behind. Neverland is his real home. So when Peter returns to it after ten years in the real world, he's surprised to find a Neverland that no longer seems to need him. The only person who truly missed Peter is Captain James Hook, who is delighted to have his old rival back. But when a new war ignites between the Lost Boys and Hook's pirates, the ensuing bloodshed becomes all too real - and Peter's rivalry with Hook starts to blur into something far more complicated, sensual, and deadly.

In the Christian Republic, homosexual people are given two choices—a camp to "fix" them, or exile to the distant islands populated by lesbians and gay men. Sixteen-year-old Jason chooses exile and expects a hardscrabble life but instead finds a thriving, supportive community. While exploring his identity as a transgender boy he also discovers adventure: kraken attacks, naval battles, a flying island built by asexual people, and a daring escape involving glow-in-the-dark paint. He also has a desperate crush on Sky, a spirited buccaneer girl, but fear keeps him from expressing his feelings. When Jason and his companions discover the Republicans are planning a war of extermination, they rally the people of the Rainbow Islands to fight back. Shy, bookish Jason will have to find his inner courage or everything and everyone he loves will be lost forever.

Book titles:

The Wicked Bargain by Gabe Cole Novoa

The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea by Maggie Tokuda-Hall

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

Rainbow Islands by Devin Harnois

[merakiui]

thank you scalding sands event for reminding me of just how crazy rich kalim is... orz i often forget how spoiled he is and how willing his parents (especially his father) are to do all that they can to ensure he's happy. like remodeling the entire scarabia dorm to fit kalim's vision so he wouldn't be too homesick. or owning giraffes and elephants. or even having an entire private park attached to their already massive property. he is so rich. it's driving me insane. T_T

i wrote about the tweels using their family's influence to essentially "buy" you, but the real buying of you quite literally happens with kalim. you, the servant he's grown so fond of, will suddenly find yourself swimming in wealth. all of these things are gifts, courtesy of kalim. your family is spoiled rotten, and it's such a whiplash. you try to be humble because that's how you were raised, but kalim insists. take these jewels! take this aureate statue! take this car so that you can get yourself a license and drive him around in it! kalim isn't even trying to curry favor with you by drowning you in excessive opulence, even though he very well could. he just wants to give you these things because he likes you and wants you to be happy! but it's so suffocating; you have to thank him because he's your master. your family will forever be grateful to the asims. but it's so awkward. you don't want any of these things. you just want to work in peace.

of course you can't possibly imagine yourself in a relationship with kalim. he's very sweet, but you just don't see him in that way. the gap in wealth is too great, as is your social status. so it's shocking when his father personally visits your parents with kalim, where he gives his blessing for kalim to marry you. and in addition to that, he delivers a very expensive care package, a means of goodwill. "our families will be one now," he says with a radiant smile, "so please think nothing of this little gift!" and you try to say no, but your parents won't hear it. how could you say no to kalim al-asim?! are you foolish? do you not see how lucky you ought to be?

but you can't quite call it luck or a blessing. it feels more like a curse. kalim loves you, yes, but you don't want to love him for his money or his willingness to mindlessly spoil you. but you don't have much say in this matter. kalim's made up his mind and so has his father. the two of you will be wed. it's a nightmare. jamil would pity you, but he's known kalim long enough that any sympathy he might extend to you has long since shriveled.

[starchaserdreams]

Wolfstar Microfic: Darling

Remus and Sirius were sitting in the back of the library studying, much to Sirius’ chagrin. He would have much preferred to be in the back of the stacks snogging, but that wasn’t exactly the way life worked. 

One of these days he would tell Remus how he felt. 

Sometimes Sirius thought he might already know. Sirius caught him staring every so often, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he knew what Sirius was hiding. Did he know how often Sirius thought about him? How he consumed his heart without even meaning to?

“I’m so tired of astronomy,” Sirius muttered under his breath. 

“What was that, darling?” Remus asked, distractedly. 

Both of their heads snapped up at once. 

Remus had never called him that before. Had never called him anything remotely like that. 

They stared at each other. 

“That didn’t- I mean I didn’t- Can we pretend-” Remus attempted, never finishing a single thought. He was blushing furiously.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sirius could feel himself breaking into a grin. He couldn’t help it. 

Did that mean…? Could it mean…? Well, there was only one way to find out.

Sirius leaned back in his chair. “If you want me to be your darling, I’m all yours,” he drawled, smiling in that way he knew made witches melt. Maybe it would work on wizards too. He’d never tried. But he was very interested in this wizard in particular, so it was worth a shot. And if it didn’t work, he could just say it was a joke. 

Remus’ mouth opened and closed a few times. 

“What are you saying?” he finally asked, bluntly. 

Sirius grinned wickedly. “If you want to go back in the stacks and have your wicked way with me, you’re welcome to, darling.” He raised his eyebrows as an invitation.

Remus slowly smiled, and it was a real, heartwarming sort of thing, no posturing about it. 

“Yeah, okay, if you’re serious,” he said.

“I am always Sirius,” Sirius quipped. Before Remus could roll his eyes, he finished quickly. “But in this case, I’m extra serious, grab your bags and come with me right now.”

He winked at Remus, who had never in his life gotten his books together and stood up faster.

Well this was going to be fun, Sirius thought.

@wolfstarmicrofic

On AO3 here

[wikitpowers]

me before going to sleep every night:

[imogenkol]

— WHAT ARCHETYPE IS YOUR OC?

tagged by the lovely @a-treides to do this uquiz, thank you 💕

VILLAIN

I know some of them pity you. They think you must be exhausted carrying around that much resentment, that much anger. I know what you did, though, what it must have taken to get here. You had no fall from grace; you walked into the pit, eyes open, feet planted firmly on the staircase. And so be it. It's an effective lifestyle, if you're willing to commit to it. I'm sure you'll get where you're going. And then they'll see, they'll all see--because that's what's important, isn't it?

STARLET

Deeply, you understand beauty--what it is to possess it, to surround yourself in it, to be consumed by it. It's better, isn't it? To create your own world full of lights and glamour than to live in reality with the rest of us? It's like living in a movie. You win, by the way. This is your movie, you're our star. Be careful, though, getting too far from reality. It gets more and more difficult to come back, and you've got to, at some point.

LOVER

[platonic or romantic!] You are so full of love and light; you value the people around you more than anything. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you find the right people at the right time and that your world is full of love; I hope your love is returned to you, properly, and that you don't ever get too hurt (because you're prone to it, aren't you?). You deserve that, you deserve the world. I wish you the best. Also, I'm serious, read the last lines of the minecraft end poem if you haven't, I think you'll like it.

HERO

The hero in a relative sense, anyhow. You have your moments of weakness, but you're the best one for the job. Or the only one that wants it. Golden child, high aptitude, natural leader, whatever it may be--you've grown used to being favored, to being the best. You walk a fine line and you'll lose yourself to insanity if you aren't careful. You know that, though. It began to dawn on you a long time ago what you've gotten yourself into.

tag list (ask to be added or removed!):

@adelaidedrubman @florbelles @tommyarashikage @simonxriley @voidika

@kyberinfinitygems @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts

@carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn

@jackiesarch @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra

@simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @strangefable @jacobseed

[likopinina]

Langston: ...if there was a race, Darling would be a mile ahead of everyone else. He was Trench's golden boy.

me: and right now you are my golden boy Langston, keep talking cause that freak Hartman is in the fucking pipes 😭😭😭

[lgbtqreads]

Fave Five: Books for Fans of Our Flag Means Death

In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (YA) The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea by Maggie Tokuda-Hall (YA) The Wicked Bargain by Gabe Cole Novoa (YA, audiobook narrated by Vico Ortiz) A Pirate’s Life for Tea by Rebecca Thorne Peter Darling by Austin Chant Bonus: Coming in June and July 2024, respectively, check out Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland and Peregrine Seas by R.C. Ballad

[jessamine-rose]

If I ever write Yandere Priest! Dottore x Demon! Darling, just know that an inner battle was lost.

[xiaoluclair]

✨the lestappen back photo pic✨ was edited for them to be much closer?

my whole life is a lie

lestappies are witches.

[ the original ] -> [ the witchcraft ]

[reviewsthatburn]

The main reason I didn't enjoy Spellbound by Allie Therin is that the more the characters learned about each other, the more it felt like they were ignoring red flags in order to make it all work (for more details, refer to the review linked above). I prefer books where, as the characters learn more they find out that either they're more compatible than they thought, or at least that what seemed like insurmountable issues can be substantially erased or mitigated in a durable and mutually supportive way.

Please enjoy this non-exhaustive list of books and series I've enjoyed where it originally seems like it won't work and then it does as the characters learn more about each other. Most of these are fantasy and/or romance.

Authors who frequently write this kind of story:

Most things Seanan McGuire writes, if there's a relationship it tends to be this style.

October Daye

InCryptid

T. Kingfisher's World of the White Rat books

Clockwork Boys / The Wonder Engine

Swordheart

Paladin's Grace / Paladin's Strength / Paladin's Hope

Most of what Ilona Andrews writes:

Kate Daniels and associated books

The Edge books

Stand-alone books:

The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna

The Lights of Prague by Nicole Jarvis

The Wicked Bargain by Gabe Cole Novoa

Bone Weaver by Aden Polodoros

Curses by Lish McBride

The Midnight Bargain by C.L. Polk

Peter Darling by S.A. (Austin) Chant

A Far Wilder Magic by Allison Saft

Winter's Orbit by Everina Maxwell (stand-alone story in a shared universe)

Ocean's Echo by Everina Maxwell (stand-alone story in a shared universe)

Ongoing series:

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

A Strange and Stubborn Endurance by Foz Meadows

Completed series:

The Celestial Kingdom Duology by Sue Lynn Tan

Daughter of the Moon Goddess

Heart of the Sun Warrior

Witchmark by C.L. Polk (Book 1 of The Kingston Cycle trilogy)

[sweet-as-an-angel]

So in your Yandere Vincent de Gramont Headcanons

do you think he eventually talked his girlfriend/boyfriend round to have a proper relationship?

Honestly, that all depends on how strong your will is when rejecting Vincent's advances. He's the image of a gentleman with enough money to build another planet if he wanted to, so to have you resist giving in to his grandiose acts of love are, from his point of view, beyond frustrating.

So, if you ever did agree to enter a proper, requited relationship with him, he's absolutely ecstatic. Has to resist the urge to throw a party in honour of this momentous occasion.

Just be warned that, if you thought he was down bad before, you've seen nothing yet. The lengths of his exponential need to keep you close and safe multiply by unfathomable measures the second you've willingly taken him as your partner.

God help the person who discovers this after getting a bit too close to you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist

[katkalis-the-horror-fanartist]

Wally "Kalis" Darling (my Wally's name now) is going to remind me to drink water! He also enjoys my squishy water bead apple. Dont sorry lil' peanut, when we get HOME in a day or so, maybe you can see a REAL ONE!🥳🍎