>Be Anon
>Nursing a mimosa and a nasty hangover
>Still, this is a pretty good morning
>Or evening rather
>Last night was your first date with Princess Luna
>It went rather swimmingly
>You fucked the pussy
>Sitting at a small table in Luna's private quarters
>She sits across from you, smiling sweetly as she munches on a bowl of cereal
"What is that stuff?" you ask casually
>"Oh"
>She blushes slightly
>"It's called 'Night Mare Fuel', a little bit of marketing my image I tried a while ago that...didn't go so well
"Can I try some?"
>"Of course!"
>She slides the bowl over to you, along with her spoon
>You find the idea of using the same spoon as someone else a little grody, but considering you put your dick in every orifice of her body last night, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal
>You take a bite
>Hmm
>Chocolate
>And a hint of blueberries
>This is pretty dang delicious
>"What do you think, Anon?"
"It's...g-good"
>You feel a sinking in your stomach and you stammer a little bit
>Your ears are ringing
>"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm JUST FINE!"
>You unintentionally shout the last part
>You try to flash her a winning smile, but the expression of confusion on her face tells you just how cracked you must look
>You hear faint whispers tickling the back of your mind
>Your skull throbs, as if there's an electric current pulsing through it, and your vision begins to swim
>For an instant, the world appears covered in red
>You blink and shake your head, bringing things back into focus
>"Anon, what's wro-?"
>Her question is interrupted by a piercing shriek, and belatedly you realize it came from you
>Another follows, and you grip your skull as a splitting agony tears through it, breaking your thoughts into jagged shards
>Blood-soaked runes dance in your vision, speaking cosmic truths that no mortal was ever meant to hear
>You can no longer hear, but you can feel the screams tear your throat apart
>You can taste iron as blood and shredded flesh spatter against your tongue and the roof of your mouth
>Vast, shambling horrors that swallow worlds walk across your eyes, ripping open their capillaries and painting everything red
>You must not see these things for one more second
>Though blind, your hand finds the spoon with which you consumed the accursed cereal, and you jam it into one eye
>You cry out in relief as you pry the fleshy orb out of its socket, freeing half of your mind from the maddening visions
>You crush it in your grasp and yank, snapping the optic nerve
>The other eye follows suit
>With a sigh of relief, you feel your head hit the table, and you sink into the welcoming oblivion of death
 
>Be Luna
>You hoped Anon would like your cereal
>Instead he spat blood, gouged his eyes out, and died
>You must have really bad taste