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The Witch and the Bitch: We're No Angels

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Cersei was waiting for Melisandre outside school as Melisandre left detention. Mel took in the sight of her girlfriend. Ever since Cersei had chopped off her hair and dyed it dark, her style had gotten darker too. Wearing a leather jacket with red skinny jeans and lace-up boots, she rose her chin as Mel approached. Mel had just trimmed her hair the night before—one of their favorite activities, with Mel alternating between trimming and kissing Cersei’s hairline—and Cersei tucked the longer part in front that hit her chin, behind her ear. Leaning against her red Mercedes, cigarette dangling from her fingers, she demanded “Light me up, babe,” and when Mel looked intently at Cersei’s cigarette, it lit up. “Fuck, I love when you do that,” Cersei said, and grabbed Mel to her so that their bodies pressed together against the car as they made out.

When they separated, Cersei took a drag from her cigarette and exhaled. “What did you set on fire that got you in detention this time?” she asked, laughing. Mel, that pyromaniac, seemed to end up in detention every week. Mel pressed back onto Cersei and stroked under her chin as she told her, “This was a good one. So I was walking to the bathroom during biology and who do I see but that motherfucker Bobby B.” Cersei took another drag of her cigarette and exhaled more slowly this time. Robert Baratheon, known to most as “Bobby B,” a fitting nickname for a douchebag bro, was the alpha male of Westeros High, even more so than Jaime. Star of the soccer team, he called himself “the king of Westeros,” and unfortunately, most people agreed and worshipped him for his athletic prowess and for his ability to grow a full black beard at age 18, which was his vain pride and joy. Most Westeros students were too intimidated by Cersei and Mel to give them trouble when they made out in the hallway or when Cersei openly grabbed Mel’s ass in the cafeteria, but Bobby B was an exception. Whenever he happened to pass them holding hands, he’d sneer “fucking dykes,” or try to trip Mel on her long red skirts. It didn’t bother Mel—she just glared at him, her red eyes searing into his soul—but the usually unflappable Cersei usually got a strange look in her eyes whenever he came near, and would pull Mel forward to avoid him in the hallways.

Cersei clenched her jaw. “So what happened?” “That bro was headed in the same direction as me, towards the men’s room, and before I could get away, he cornered me against a locker.” Cersei’s green eyes, lined with smokey black eyeshadow and winged liquid eyeliner, flashed with anger. “He said, ‘if your pussy is so perfect that it got Cersei Lannister to switch teams and make herself look like a lesbo, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.’ His hand went up to my boob, and he grabbed it. But I knew what to do. With my hand that was free from him, I stroked his beard. ‘Yes, it is perfect...and you’ll never get to touch it’ and as I said that—boom!—the bottom part of his beard incinerated and he pulled back, swatting at his beard with his t-shirt to put out the fire. It was so funny to see him helpless, like a little boy crying for his mommy. Obviously I just made it a small fire so that his skin wouldn’t burn, but now he has a weird bald patch at the bottom of his chin. Definitely worth the detention.” Mel moved in for another kiss, but Cersei was stiff. “What’s wrong, love?” Mel asked. Cersei pulled away and, facing away from Mel, stomped out her cigarette. “Let’s just go drive to my place, okay?” “Okay,” Mel answered, confused. She thought Cersei would laugh haughtily at the story, but as they got in the car, instead she was silent, her skin drained of all color.

Cersei kicked the car into gear and put music on. She wasn’t in a talking mood, so Mel sat shotgun as the music played. “I’ve been out on that open road,” Lana Del Rey sang, “You can be my full-time daddy, white and gold.” At this line, Mel stroked her gold daddy’s hand. But Cersei pushed Mel’s hand away. As the song played, Cersei stared ahead stoically and mouthed along with the words:

“Don't break me down/I've been traveling too long/I've been trying too hard/With one pretty song/I hear the birds on the summer breeze/I drive fast, I am alone at midnight/Been trying hard not to get into trouble/But I, I've got a war in my mind/So, I just ride, just ride/I just ride, I just ride”

Tears began to stream down her face, and she pulled the car over and stopped it, her head collapsing onto the driver’s wheel as she started to cry. Mel leaned over her and stroked her back, pausing the song. “Babe, I’ve never seen you like this. What’s going on? I know your dad was pissed about your hair but it’s been a while now.” Cersei sat up and took a deep breath. “No, it’s not him. But men. Ugh, men! Fucking ruining everything.”

“But I am no man. You can talk to me, you know that,” Mel said, continuing to stroke Cersei’s back, moving her fingers up to stroke the nape of her neck and behind her ears. Cersei paused and slowly faced Mel. “I’ve never told anyone this, not even Jaime. But, ugh, Bobby B….” she rolled her eyes as she said the ridiculous nickname. “So, yeah. Freshman year, he hosted a big party. I didn’t want to go, but Jaime insisted since they’re on the soccer team together, and he said the Baratheon mansion had so many rooms that we could sneak away into one. So I went. I was so bored being around all those bros and the bimbos like Margarey Tyrell who follow them around looking to score a jock that I sat around and drank a lot to distract myself. After I’d had a few drinks, I went upstairs to find a bathroom. When I got up the stairs. Robert was there. I was tipsy, but he was super drunk, and Robert super drunk makes sober Robert seem tolerable. I asked him where the bathroom was, and he said he’d show me. Since I was drunk I followed him and he led me into a room and locked the door behind us before I could realize it was his bedroom. I slapped him, but he pushed me down onto the bed. And before I knew can imagine the rest.” Cersei sighed and tears ran down her face although she was no longer crying; her expression was icy. “I wasn’t a virgin, I’d already been with Jaime before that, but it still was horrible. I was sore afterward, raw between my legs, my breasts hurting from the mauling he gave them, like he was some animal.” She looked down, and then up again into Mel’s eyes, no longer tearful. “So that’s the war in my mind . Whenever he comes for us at school and I freeze, that’s why.” She laughed to herself, a sad laugh. “What good was my family’s power, when I couldn’t protect myself?”

“But I have power too, and I can avenge you.” Mel wiped the tears off of Cersei’s face. “Firstly, thank you for trusting me with this story. I can see it was so hard for you to tell.” Cersei smiled. “I feel like I can tell you anything.” “I wish I had known,” Mel sighed. “I can only see the present and the future in the flames, but not the past. I would have made sure we avoided him in the hallways. But I don’t want to avoid him. I want to avenge you.” Cersei grabbed Mel’s hands and leaned in closely to her. “Tell me more.” “We have to go to your place for me to start making it happen. You’ll get your revenge. You feeling okay enough to drive?” Cersei smirked. “You know the word ‘revenge’ makes me feel better than anything else,” and she drew Mel in for a deep kiss, pulling on her long red hair hard enough to make Mel say “ouch!” before restarting the car and the music. Both girls sang along on the top of their lungs with Lana Del Rey, singing, “I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy/I'm tired of driving 'til I see stars in my eyes/It's all I've got to keep myself sane, baby/So I just ride, I just ride,” and they squeezed one another’s hands at the last part.

After Cersei parked the car, Melisandre grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, scurrying up the grand staircase. As usual, they were alone; Tywin was on some business trip, Jaime at football practice, and Tyrion probably getting a blow job under the bleachers from some desperate freshman with lust for Lannister gold in her eyes. Cersei pulled Melisandre eagerly onto the bed. “After what you told me, do you still want to have sex?” Mel asked. Cersei threw off her leather jacket and flung it onto the floor. “I’m always ready with you. Let me just put on our song.” Cersei walked over to her sound system, and Melisandre disrobed as Cersei put on the song that fit them best— “No Angel” by Beyoncé:

Underneath the pretty face is something complicated/I come with a side of trouble/But I know that's why you're staying/Because, you're no angel, either, baby

As Cersei walked back to the bed, she took off her pants and threw her shirt over her head, then leaned over Mel and hungrily eat her up, starting with her lips, then down to her breasts as Mel gripped the roots of Cersei’s hair tightly, then further down to the soft red hairs covering Mel’s vagina, which she started to suck on when Mel sat up. “Am I doing something wrong ?” Cersei asked angrily, the taste of Mel in her mouth. “No. We just need to do something different today. Step one for the revenge. Get the instrument.”

Cersei raised her left eyebrow. With her short dark hair tousled from rolling around in bed and Melisandre grabbing it, her arms filled up with more tattoos, she looked irresistible. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” Naked, Cersei walked over to a drawer and pulled out a box made of gold, and brought it back to the bed, where both girls sat next to one another and looked inside it. “This might hurt you a lot” Cersei said. Melisandre grabbed the strap-on, made out of pure, hard, solid gold, and put it in her mouth, sucking and licking it all over, which made Cersei salivate. “It’s fully lubricated now. Let’s go.” Cersei strapped the harness over her legs so that the strap-on was fully affixed and she leaned over Mel and began to pump, Mel’s vagina opening more as Cersei thrust the strap-on more deeply inside her, grunting as she pumped. With each of Cersei’s grunts, Melisandre yelped, “oh!” The music played:

“If there's candles near your bed, no need for a spell/Stop acting so scared, just do what I tell/First go through my legs, go back on your head/And whatever you want, yeah baby I'll bet it comes true”

Mel seemed to moan in tune with the music; even without any flames in the room, she was all fire, her hair blood and flame spread out over the bed. She grabbed Cersei’s hair as Cersei thrust into her, and scratched Cersei’s back with her other hand, almost hard enough to draw blood, then traced the lion tattoo on Cersei’s back with her fingers. Finally, she felt she’d had enough, and both their noises quieted down.

Because, you're no angel either, baby

The girls lay side by side in bed, breathing heavily. Cersei turned to her side and tickled Mel’s breast. Mel smiled, and ruffled Cersei’s hair. “That was great, babe” she told Cersei. But I have to go home.” Cersei sat up abruptly. “Home? Now? Why? You just got here!” “The revenge, remember? I need to go home. Just trust me. Meet me tomorrow at 4 am at the soccer field.” “Um, what? I need my beauty sleep.” “Trust me, just meet me there at 4 tomorrow.” Mel gave Cersei a kiss and squeezed her breast, and her long red hair shrouded both their bodies in warmth. “Okay, well I might need to have a little taste of you before I go…”

The Next Morning

Cersei rode up to the school’s soccer field, feeling-half dead. “I better have gotten up at 3am for something good,” she thought to herself. But despite her exhaustion, she felt lighter, freer, ever since telling Mel about what happened freshman year. A huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders; it felt like when she chopped off and dyed all that golden hair that had been tying her to her father’s idea of “the Lannister legacy” for her whole life. As she pulled in, she saw a flicker of light on the dark field. She exited the car and walked towards it, squinting to see what it was. As she walked closer, she saw Melisandre, wearing even more layers of red floaty fabric and shawls than usual. She was holding a torch ( where the hell did she get a torch , Cersei thought) and smiled slyly at Cersei. The wind blew through her endless hair, which floated in the air like crimson ribbons. “Good morning! Say hello to our special guest!” Mel shifted the torch to her side, and there he was: Bobby B, naked, his hands and legs tied to a soccer goalpost with ropes. Bobby shouted “fucking dykes!” and attempted to kick Cersei, his leg hardly able to move. Cersei burst out in gleeful laughter. “Dyke? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the kick, if I took you for a man.” “Enough from him,” Mel said, as she placed duct tape over his mouth, Bobby squirming in agony. Cersei noticed Mel had a light bruise on the side of her face and put her finger to it. “He tried to fight me, but as you can see, he lost. I’ll wear this bruise as a badge of honor,” Mel said, smirking.

She walked a foot back from Bobby’s bound body, passing the torch to Cersei to hold, and commandingly began to speak:  “Lord of Light! If men like this, simple men, try to continue to control us, to hurt us, night will come for us all, the night that never ends! It must not happen, it will not happen. We all must choose. Man or woman, young or old, millionaire or homeless, our choices are the same. We choose light or we choose darkness. Robert Baratheon! Behold the fate of those who choose the darkness!” As Cersei held the flame next to Melisandre, she wondered does she intend to burn him alive? Her confusion grew when Melisandre began taking off her clothes and it climaxed when Mel stood naked, in front of Robert, her stomach swollen like a woman in her final week of pregnancy. The unflappable Cersei Lannister shrieked out loud and jumped in fear, and Robert’s eyes grew wide. “Mel, what the fuck? How the fuck are you pregnant?”  “The night is dark and full of terrors, my love. A lot can happen in one night with your love and rage gestating inside me” she said as she lay down.

When she lay down, something in her stomach began to move. Cersei had never seen anything like this before; Mel’s usually flat stomach was swollen and something, someone? shifted inside it, making Mel groan in pain. She spread her legs open, and Cersei, although terrified, moved the flame closer to see what was happening. As her belly grew more swollen, her moaning grew louder, and Cersei heard Robert’s muffled cries of terror from his duct-taped mouth; his body was slack, in shock. Melisandre let out a wild scream, and two small black hands exited her vagina, wrapping their fingers around her upper thighs as a shadow in the form of a small human wooshed out of her, and flung itself at Robert. Cersei almost dropped the torch in terror as the shadow wrapped itself around Robert’s knee, squeezing harder and harder until Robert’s screams became so loud that his mouth opened too widely for the duct tape to stay on. Melisandre lay composed on the ground, inhaling and exhaling deeply, as Cersei heard a crunching sound. His knee was crushed; he would no longer be able to play soccer for the season...if ever again. The shadow then traveled further up…. oh my god, is it really going to….oh god, oh god, it’s squeezing and crushing his dick “You fucking witch!” Robert screamed, “Ahhhhhhhh! Police! Where’s the police! I’m the KING of Westeros!”

Melisandre stood up. Her stomach was flat again, and she put her clothes back on calmly. “You are no king. Only one being has any power, the Lord of Light. You are but a man, and hardly one at that.” The shadow unwrapped itself from around Robert’s penis, which was red and swollen, his knee crushed, and flew away into the night sky. “Where the fuck is it going?” Cersei asked, her eyes filled with as much excitement as terror. Melisandre looked at her and said, “Shadows are the servants of the light, the children of fire. It will evaporate in the light, but will be at my call whenever I must beckon it. Shadowbinding: it’s a new skill I’ve been working on when I’m not with you.” Robert lay tied up, his body too depleted of energy to speak, his eyes closed. Cersei grabbed Mel with her free hand and embraced her in the most passionate kiss she’d ever given, Mel’s tongue teasing and receiving, and she moved her hand up Mel’s dress. “No, not in front of him,” Mel said, “he doesn’t deserve to watch us.” “He’s sleeping...or something, whatever you did to him” Cersei replied. Melisandre took the torch from Cersei and walked up to him. She grabbed a small knife from a pocket in her skirt, and cut a small line in his thigh. Blood trickled out, and she held a small vial taken from the chemistry lab to collect the blood. He lay limp and silent still. “King’s blood,” she turned around to tell Cersei, “in case he tries to hurt anyone else again, I can use this to stop him for good. Oh, and one last thing.” Cersei watched as Mel traced the edge of her index finger along Robert’s large bicep, in the same way she had done when she traced her finger along Cersei’s wrist to produce the lines “hear me roar” in delicate black cursive ink. But this tattoo was not delicate. As Melisandre wrote the words “RAPIST PIG” on his bicep, the letters were large, ugly, and block-like.

As he lay dazed, Cersei asked “Mel, how are we not going to get in trouble for this?” “Cers, do you really think he can tell people that a shadow demon crushed his knee and that a magical finger tattooed him without getting institutionalized? And that some skinny goth dyke was able to mess him up so badly?” Cersei smirked, “You’re right. Let me drive you to my place; we can fuck until we have to get ready for school.” “Of course,” Mel said, grabbing Cersei by the waist. But first she turned towards the naked boy tied to the goalpost, her red eyes dancing like little fires, and said, “Look to your sins, Robert Baratheon. For the night is dark and full of terrors.”