The Poisoner (The Poisoner #1)

by I.V. Ophelia

Ignorance was expected, and I never blamed them. It is not a choice to be stupid, though I gave my best efforts to be sympathetic.

already found my favorite quote

Giulia Tofana,

AAAAAAAAAAAAH NOT THE GIULIA TOFANA MENTION

Personal pleasures were like drying flowers, best kept away from the light to preserve their vibrance.

kinky

I wish I could say that I made that man suffer—that I put his hands in jars and severed the tongue from his mouth. Instead, I did something far worse. I did nothing.

·o· <-- this is my face rn

Usually, a piece like this would have been made of horsehair, something fine but strong enough to hold the most delicate pearls. But the hair seemed finer, and black was an odd color to use when stringing white pearls. There was a note within the box. I would have strung them with hair from my last grand gesture, but I thought using yours would do perfectly well, a more personal touch. —Silas

BROTHER EUGHHH I WANT TO RUN OVER THIS MAN WITH A LAWN MOWER LIKE WHAT THE FUCK

Placed on the nightstand, there was a single nightshade stem. Why does he insist on leaving gifts? Placed next to the bloom was a handkerchief. The white fabric bled red from one of the sides. When unraveled, a brittle, disembodied finger was placed neatly in the silk. My nose creased at the smell. I was sure there would be a story in the paper about the owner of the appendage in question. No matter, I did not have time for puzzles today. The finger was disposed of discreetly in the toilet.

HE GIFTS HER A FUCKING FINGER?!?! i'm sickened, i'm barfing, i'm throwing this man into a puddle of battery acid

I would be removing his heart and keeping it in a jar on my desk. It would make for a perfect paperweight.

do it bb gorl. this man deserves death in it's finest form

It was still unbelievable to me that I’d escaped with my life by being too odd or too much of a nuisance on several occasions.

if you ever wanna get rid of a toxic man, just be a nuisance and piss on his floor like good ol alina lis. that'll do it

Peering out, my eyes landed on a body. A thick metal spike was stuck through the head and pinned it to the wood of the door. The body belonged to a short woman with frizzy blonde hair, maybe around thirty years old. Her pale eyes were decorated with a familiar green pigment. My hand slapped over my mouth, and I shut the door. When I heaved my body weight against the door, my knees betrayed me and I slid into a crouched position behind the door.

how many times can one person use the word door in a matter of only a few sentences?

They say time is a thief, but I say time, he is an escapologist. No matter how hard you tried to hold on to it, no matter how hard you tried to tether yourself, it would always slip right through your fingers.

ok so, i'm starting to hate this book but lowkey i kinda really like this quote

“Do you mean to tell me that it wasn’t you?” “No. Though with the rate you’ve been poisoning people, it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” “Nobody knows that it is me.” “None that you know of. Your antics didn’t work on me. I’m sure they have failed on others,” he said,

gasp, is there actually gonna be some plot now?

How ironic that the only man who could comfort an aching soul like me would be the worst one I knew.

girlie pop i fear you have a problem there

“Excuse me for my boldness, but how did he pass?” Viktor asked. Dr. Hayes tensed and looked in my direction. I did not know why everyone danced around the subject, as if I would cry whenever my father was brought up. “An accident in the lab,” I said simply. “His assistant was clumsy. He died of some sort of exposure.” “That is unfortunate, especially for an experienced chemist.” Viktor tilted his head. “Did the coroner say what it could have been?” “No, I did not read the report.” “I see.” Viktor squeezed my shoulder gently. “Well, do not doubt yourself on the account of ghosts. You have much to be proud of.”

broo this viktor kid is giving me the ick. i bet he killed dear old dad

“I am well, aside from the arms I had to bury this morning.” She threw me a side-eye as she passed. “Right.” I nodded as if I understood her euphemism, though I did not. I had come to terms with the fact that I might not be able to understand all of her quirks.

if this walking red flag of a man isn't the person leaving these body parts in her home then honestly i'm going to scream

It was exhausting being labeled only by the ownership of another man.

girlie you literally poison people for a living. quit fooling with this freak and find a way to wipe him off this mortal plane!

I hated that he was right about his saliva being the miracle cure for migraines.

as a chronic migraine sufferer, i have the ick x100

Much like his fangs, he had folded spines under the base of his cock. They were almost perfectly matched to his skin, except the black gradient at the sharp point, like small porcupine quills. They folded flush to his skin. I could not even feel them when touching him.

i never thought i'd read a book where the mmc has a porcupine dick

There it was again, that warm feeling. It was not natural to feel this for the person capable of killing you. The danger might have been the thing that made it feel so much more intense. It was possibly due to some strange chemistry, but I had never met a man so interesting. It only made sense that he was not even human—I was not easily satisfied or entertained like this.

brother eughhhh

surprisedly

is this even a word?

A man by the name of Luka Novikov, the Fixer. It was his signature. It only became known since he had a habit of taste testing the targets of situations he was paid handsomely to fix. A frequent name on my father’s payroll.

not the completely random plotline coming in

He grabbed me by the shoulders and fell backward. We wrestled along the neatly trimmed grass, kicking up the lawn and dirt as we fought. “While that is true, I do not have a reason to have any loyalty to you either.” He grabbed my hair and bit my neck. I hissed and bore my fangs at him, attempting to bite back, but he held me at arm’s length once his teeth let me go. I scratched at him, but he bit my hand and kicked me again. Biting, scratching, kicking, clawing—we were going to tear each other limb from limb. None of it could come to any conclusion due to our equal match of strength and vigor. By the end, we stood there, battered and bloodied. The sun had disappeared by then. All we could do was glare at each other and observe the wounds we had traded. We sat in silence on opposite sides of the garden, surrounded by foliage that trembled in the cool breeze, neither of us having the energy to continue this useless struggle.

you're telling me that these two grown ass men fought each other like a human tumbleweed across a garden and then sat in their separate corners like little toddlers? this book gets worse and worse by the minute