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August 6 - August 19, 2025
For those who can’t help falling for the villain and love a sinfully wicked fairy tale, this one is for you.
Gentlemen of virtue are not nearly as nice As the wickedly sinful men of vice. POEMS FOR THE WICKED, VOLUME ONE
Whether due to hubris or ego, man was the only creature who often ignored what no other prey did: trust your instincts or suffer the consequences.
If there was one truth that ought to be universally accepted, it was this: when sin was involved, no gentleman in this realm or any other could ever hope to compete with a demon. Most especially a Prince of Hell.
He was not good, and he was not mortal. The sooner she realized that, the better it would be for her. If Camilla was sunshine, he was the darkest of nights. And if she wasn’t careful, his shadows would snuff out her light, if only for the fleeting chance to possess her warmth before destroying it.
This man liked the darkness, welcomed it; the shadows were where he preferred to be.
“Wonderful. If any of you consider changing your mind, I’d recall this scene before spreading rumors. Should any reach my ears, leaving Waverly Green as quickly as possible would only delay the inevitable.”
Camilla didn’t care if God or the devil himself was involved. This man could drag her down to hell and she’d gladly burn for eternity.
“And I love being a sinner too much to ever be a saint.”
Nature was a violent mistress, her beauty a mask to hide her cruelty.
I will be your God, your Creator, your Destroyer, and every depraved dark thing in between.
“Master of secrets, prince of the dark, how peculiar to find yourself trapped in it.
Until she’d lost and let others down and felt the weight of responsibility press onto her shoulders, she couldn’t lecture him on only seeking sunshine and completely forgetting that the world also needed rain to thrive.
Darkness was never as appealing as the light to most, but that didn’t mean it was any less integral to life. Too much sunshine withered the soul.
Camilla said nothing of the wounds leaking ichor from his body. Or the brutal way he’d killed in that arena, the pleasure he’d seemed to take in death. Maybe they were both damned, wicked things, broken in all the right places so they lined up, jagged edge to smooth.
Camilla’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to stay calm. “You have no morals.” “True. But yours are as gray in tone as mine, my dear.” “That’s hardly true.” “What a cunning little liar you are.” She was indeed.
Praying at the altar of your body is one of the only ways to get a sinner like me on my knees. I promise I’m going to worship every inch of you.
Like a star shooting across the night sky, there was nothing left but the memory of how beautifully bright it had once shined.
fear was the one force that drove all darkness in the world. Love, on the other hand, was the greatest source of power. Love strengthened the weakest, gave them a ferocity that fear never offered. Mothers defended their children. Partners, friends, good people stared down evil, becoming something to be feared.
He didn’t know the first thing about being a hero, but he excelled at being the villain.
He chuckled when he saw Bunny, rubbing around Wrath’s legs. The General of War glanced around quickly before scrubbing behind Bunny’s ears, earning an amused look from Emilia at her husband’s new friend.
