Status Updates From Vilest Things (Flesh and Fa...

[ACKNOWLEDGMENTS] And, to Owen, resurrector of my sanity, the steadfast home I can go to after battle.

She is no revolutionary. She is just the most furious orphan in the world.

“I swear it,” Anton says. “You are my only place of worship. I swear it.”

“Promise me,” she says. She moves, slowly. “Promise me you’ll fight on my side. Don’t give me a repeat of the arena.”
“I promise,” Anton says. He’s barely holding himself back. The cords of muscle in his arms are strained, keeping himself still for her. “I will be your first soldier.”
“My general.”

“Do you know what you call for?” she asks. His hands have found their way to the buttons of her shirt. One after the other, he commences her undoing. “It will be war.”

“I wouldn’t lie.” He lets her pull his hair. He bares his throat for her, the surface smooth and unmarred in the lamplight. “I will swear myself to you here, if that’s what it takes. From this moment onward, I am your follower. Your acolyte. Whatever it is you need, as my ruler or my deity.”

Darlington core

She’s very good at holding personal grudges. Less so at being the judge of others and their grievances, others and the justice they should be granted, because Calla is neither a tolerable person nor an impartial judge.
Once she starts handing out penance, it will be hard to stop.

Anton’s brows disappear into his hair. She knows he doesn’t choose feminine bodies when he has the option, but he really ought to more often.

i know i have something to say about this but i don't know what yet

Her stolen body. Her greatest heist.
Long live Her Majesty. Long live Her Majesty ten thousand years