Iron Widow

Men wants us so badly for our bodies, yet hate us so much for our minds.

The entitled assholes of the world are sustained by girls who forgive too easily.

But I have no faith in love. Love cannot save me. I choose vengeance.

Love isn't some scarce resource to battle over. Love can be infinite, as much as your heart can open.

How do you take the fight out of half the population and render them willing slaves? You tell them they're meant to do nothing but serve from the minute they're born. You tell them they're weak. You tell them they're prey. You tell them over and over, until it's the only truth they're capable of living.

The world does not deserve my respect. It is not worthy of my kindness or compassion.

Perks of refusing to play by the rules: you don’t have to choose between the boy who’d torture a man to death with you and the boy who welcomes you back with pastries.

What I have learned through this madness is that you can absolutely solve your problems by throwing money at them. If you can't, you probably don't have enough money for that particular problem.

There will be no redemption. It is not me who is wrong. It's everyone else.

I've been told endless lies since I was born. That I was not kind enough, considerate enough, humble enough, honorable enough, pretty enough, pleasing enough. And if I failed to meet the needs of those around me, I did not deserve to live. Propaganda. All of it. Propaganda to keep me chasing after the approval of others on my bound and broken feet, as if being a good servant is the only thing I should be proud of.

Shame and humiliation are self-imposed emotions, and from here on out, I choose not to feel them.

He will not kill me. He does not get to make me a statistic.

He should be the Iron King, and I should be the Iron Queen. Yet Iron Demon and Iron Widow is all they'll let us be.

You can’t shoot me; I’m rich!” Yizhi slips through the opening created.

You're my polar star. I'll go wherever you guide me.

No, he's trying to worm into my mind and shackle me down with morals, so he can feel more comfortable about my existence. Too bad. I am exactly the kind of ice-blooded, rotten-hearted girl he fears I am. And I am fine with that. May he stay unsettled.

when you cherish someone for how amazing they are, you don't pluck them from their roots just to watch them wither in your hands. You help them bloom into the incredible thing they're really meant to be.

Shame. That was their favorite tool. A tool to corrode me from the inside until I believed I could only accept whatever lot they threw at my bound feet. It didn't work. Despite their best efforts, I find myself worthy of happiness.

This body of mine is not big enough to contain the scale of emotion coursing through me. How could I feel a rage like this, and not be able to tear the sky open and scorch the earth?

So what am I supposed to do?" "Your worst, of course.

You cannot appease someone into loving or respecting you.

I swear, people cannot make up their minds about who are supposed to be the clueless infants who can’t live without supervision: men or women.

Where does jealousy come from, if not an insecurity that I'll lose you because of him? But that's not how it works, no matter how many people believe it so. You're not something to be kept or taken, and love isn't some scarce resource to battle over. Love can be infinite , as much as your heart can open. I mean, when you think about it, love is fueled mostly by compatibility. Whether two people make each other happy by being close. So it'd be pointless of me to resent Shimin. However compatible you are with him, it doesn't have anything to do with how compatible you are with me.

You know what I think?” I say. “I think this whole concept of women being docile and obedient is nothing but wishful thinking. Or why would you put so much effort into lying to us? Into crippling our bodies? Into coercing us with made-up morals you claim are sacred? You insecure men, you’re afraid. You can force us into compliance, but, deep down, you know you can’t force us to truly love and respect you. And without love and respect, there will always be a seed of hatred and resistance. Growing. Festering. Waiting.

Countless times, I watched my father turn my mother into a nervous wreck by simply transforming himself into a dark cloud of a presence. He wouldn't use any curses or shouts, but he'd set his bowl down a little too loudly, or slam doors a little too harshly. She'd step cautiously around him as if he were a bomb, worrying about her every move for fear of setting him off. Without uttering a single word, he'd teach her to twist herself into knots to prioritize his needs and wants, in some strangling hope of quelling the pressure in the house and returning things to normal.

My murder boy, my sweet boy.

You can't shoot me; I'm from Central Command!" Sima Yi shouts, ramming through the soldier standoff. "You can't shoot me; I'm rich!" Yizhi slips through the opening created.

So many attempts to stop me from existing comfortably in my own skin, yet here I am, doing what I want with a boy nobody appointed to me. And it's not dirtying me. It will not ruin me. It is not obscene, filthy, or shameful.

There’s no such a thing as karma. Or if it does exist, it sure doesn’t give a shit about people like me. Some of us were born to be used and discarded. We can’t afford to simply go along with the flow of life, because nothing in this world has been created, built, or set up in our favor. If we want something, we have to push back against everything around us and take it by force.

The voices that refused to be silenced, the hands that refused to be bound, the spirits that refused to be broken