Those witch pricks betrayed me in the worst possible way.
I’m not about to run home and bake f*cking cupcakes, move on, and pretend to be happy.
I’d rather rage.
These men told me I wasn’t allowed to leave, that they’d follow me anywhere.
Well, it goes both ways, my dear stubborn husbands.
You aren’t allowed to leave, and I will do anything to enforce that.
I’ll slaughter the Hag Wytch. I’ll break our world and the Witchwoods both.
Because you were right: I am a villain, and I will kill the world for you.
I’m sad. Please send cockies. I mean cookies.
Not cookies baked with jizz, but actual cookies.
