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There was one universal truth to life: no one looked elegant after a chop to the trachea.
“This Dick you spoke of. I will eat his liver and bathe in his blood.”
“We will bathe in his blood.”
My beast roared in my skull that she was ours, and that meant she didn’t fucking fight. We fought for her.
“And you’re a whore who just took a century off my life.”
“Dude, you’re so pretty. This is going to kill my self-esteem. We can’t be friends.”
“Yeah, but I saw the moon goddess after I went splat, and she told me I had to go to a clinic and lose my virginity in order to save the realm from the evil queen.”
“Really?”
“No, dumbass. I saw the dark abyss of death and then woke up to a fae doctor talking shit about me.”
“I physically can’t deal with your toxic energy right now. You hate me; I get it. Take a number and get in line.”
Either there was something wrong with me, or men were generally unwell and at the root of all problems in society. It was definitely the latter.
“I’ll beat the bloody devil out of you. I have to do it. Someday, you’ll understand.”
“Did I say something aloud?”
“Just that you want Jax to order you around while he spears you with his massive, pierced dick,”
Rationally, it didn’t matter, and I was a bad bitch who didn’t need a man. Irrationally, I was a woman who just wanted to get railed and told I was pretty.