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Most people thought revenge was hot—all rage and passion. They were wrong. Real vengeance was ice cold. Calculated.
People got nervous in silence. They tried to fill it with words, movement, with anything to ease the discomfort of being prey.
“Once is an accident. Twice is coincidence. But three times? Three times is a fucking pattern.”
That was the thing about pain. It had texture, depth, and variations as unique as a fingerprint.
"Heroes save people. I just balance the scales."
I want you to corrupt everything my family tried to make holy in me.
My mind fragmented, priorities shifting and realigning under pressure. What defines us when we're forced to choose in an instant? What pieces of ourselves do we save?
If you were going to burn something, it should mean something. It should be a statement, not a tantrum.
The difference between stalking and surveillance was permission,
Was I seriously having an argument with my own dick? And losing? What the fuck?
I mentally begged every saint in the Catholic pantheon to intercede on behalf of my extremely inappropriate erection. None of them answered.
There's nothing more powerful than controlling someone who thinks they're in charge just because they're on top. There's power in making someone else do the work while you maintain all the control.
“But explain this—how do two emotionally unavailable code gremlins spend two years sleep-deprived and not realize they're in love? You guys have been orbiting each other like two confused roombas with unresolved sexual tension.”
"Everyone has enemies. Most just don't know it."
"Oh! Oh, gotcha. Well, there are condoms and lube in the bathroom cabinet. The good stuff, water-based. And remember, consent is sexy!"
"They started it underneath. Smart. Trailers are most vulnerable there. All that exposed insulation and wiring. The fire ate through the subfloor first, then spread up through the walls using the aluminum siding like a chimney."
"Then let me show you how beautiful pain can be when it's given with care. How suffering becomes worship when it's done right."
"It's not stalking," War corrected his daughter automatically. "It's intensive observation with romantic intent."
"Better paranoid than dead,"
No excessive questions, no panic, just ready assistance.
"Following orders," River repeated, his usually expressionless face showing the first signs of genuine anger. "Classic justification for unethical actions throughout history."
Does ignorance absolve responsibility?" "No," I answered flatly. "It doesn't." Algerone nodded. "Actions have consequences, regardless of one's claimed awareness."
"Politeness is a social convention. It has nothing to do with being nice."
The line between manipulation and connection was blurry at the best of times.
'If you respect the snake's nature, if you never forget what it is, you've got nothing to fear from it. It's the people who think they can make a cobra into something it's not who end up dead.'"
Some wounds couldn't be bandaged with words, some losses couldn't be mitigated by explanation.
Sometimes lies were kinder than truth.
"Play the hand you're dealt, but remember who's shuffling the deck,"
