Cobblestone throat hpv

These are my beginner fanfictions! I tried to keep these as congruent with the portrayed personalities/actions of Overlord(tm).
The first is set sometime around the Re-Estize Kingdom destruction, while the second is set right after Pestonya and Nigredo get released from Ice Prison.
These feature Mare, Pestonya, and Cocytus mostly.
Please enjoy them!
---
The shadow demon whispered into Ainz' "ear" which was met with a heavy sigh. He had grown tired of this fight, his enthusiasm for the following battle was sapped- all due to a certain individuals' actions.
"I tire of this. Cocytus, do as you will."
Cocytus thumped his chest with the pride not only of being chosen by Ainz-Sama but at the incoming chance to prove his worth to his God.
"Yes! Ainz. Sama. Will. I. Be. Providing. Back. Up. For. Your. Commands?"
Ainz propped his chin on a knuckle, and with a regal wave of his hand stated his decree.
"This war is with truly worthless, as well as anything that might be here. Truly worthless creatures." A chill seeped over the ground as Cocytus and the other retainers within the splendorous tent realized- Ainz-sama was angered by the Individuals' previous actions. The chill spread through their feet and crawled up their backs, like a horrid ghost which wished to whisper sweet nothings of despair into your ear. Slowly, it retracted, yet all in the tent continued to shiver. Such was the wrath of a Supreme Being. "Except for "that individual" do as you must, this was a waste of time. Everyone you shall be placed under Cocytus' direct orders as needed- assist him as you must."
Ainz-sama leaned deeper into his fist, lost in thought and perhaps tired from having to deal with this skirmish- far beneath need to waste his time. Cocytus and the other retainers bowed and briskly left the room. Walking with pride- Cocytus was trailed by footsteps, one step of clicking heels behind him drew his notice.
"Cocytus."
Albedo, the Overseer of Nazarick gently but firmly gripped one of his arms causing him to stop in his tracks.
"I apologize for touching you, but I don't need to exp-"
Cocytus waved two of his opposite arms, opposite from Albedos' retreating grasp.
"It. Need. Not. Be. Said." Cocytus puffed out "To. Not. Only. Waste. Ainz. Samas'. Precious. Time. But. To. Also. Not. Even. Reach. The. Standards. To. Meet. His. Expectations. Is. Worthy. Of. Eradication."
The other retainers- the Floor Guardians nodded to his statement in agreement.
Shalltear piped up" Ahhh~ We don't even need to show them true despair, this will simply be an execution." With a shake of her head and an expression which read "It can't be helped."
With resolve tempered, Cocytus began his task.
---
The Hydra was a creature well known not only in Yggdrasil, but in the New World as well. Capable of casting not only magic of the 5th tier, but sometimes able to cast martial abilities. This was, however, entirely dependent on the luck of said hydra from birth. They could have anywhere from 7-9 heads and each could be skilled in magic or martial abilities, what it knew however was random- one could cast up to 2nd Tier but another on the same body could cast 5th tier. Its' heads would act in unison, with a "main head" being chosen by one which displayed their dominance by fighting the other heads and helped by slight telekinesis which allowed them to sense the leaders' whims.
Pelgraya-Nurm was proud of her shiny scales, which she frequently rehydrated to keep their glistening texture possibly to appear alluring to the humans. Their approval was below her, but who wouldn't appreciate praise no matter how insignificant. She shook her golden brown mane, large and fluffy she would easily be lauded by these humans as the softest cuddling partner if only she was nicer. She was not however.
Pelgraya-Nurm was different however, instead of heads it had been born with a plethora of arms. These arms, while not adept at martial kills, could cast 6th tier spells and along with improved dexterity, she could wield weapons if needed. This could be the reason she was cast out and viciously chased off by her kith and kin, probably not wanting the weakness a mutant would bring. She also had a talent, for mana, which increased her mana regen by absurd amounts the lower her mana. She was currently leading the contingent of her mercenary group which while called "The City Guard" were nothing more than thugs.
Pelgraya-Nurm had taken a name in part of jealousy of dragons (but partially from being shunned by her kin) but also to make her stand out among humans. While she easily towered over humans, however, the creatures she saw across from the battlefield shook her even now and made her feel insignifigant. She looked to her adjutant, Papaya, an elf she had bought to handle any affairs of human relations.
"Papaya" Pelgraya-Nurm muttered "What is that contingent of undead? Why have we not heard of such a thing before?"
Papaya rocked with her masters' obvious displeasure.
"I-i'm not sure. We haven't heard anything from scouts or even from the kingdom- they simply appeared P-Pelgraya-sama."
Papaya was consequently splattered across the floor, nearby soldiers, and part of the wall Pelgraya-Nurm was stationed on. Wicking off her claws with a flick of the wrist, she voiced her displeasure.
"You can all be replaced, you are nothing to me. I own you." Pelgraya-Nurm stated matter-of-factly. Simply put, this was how Hydras' and even most monsters behaved- rule of the strong. However, this was not usually the case for humanoids. They had "laws" and "good samaritism" they usually reacted negatively to being pasted onto their nearby surroundings.
Out of the corned of her eye, Pelgraya-Nurm saw a twisting of her humongous shadow- a small offshoot which seemed to sputter and slink off. Only for a second, she must have been seeing a trick of the light. She turned towards her opponents and grinned, they stood no chance.
Across the battlefield, after being reported to by that shadow demon, someone stamped the seal which would seal their fate.
---
Cocytus had prepared a map of the village they stood before, which had been prepared by the shadow demons beforehand. It was largely unremarkable, but being a ragtag mercenary group this could easily be all of their mustered forces. The shadow demons hadn't been scouting for long but they would more than likely bring forth confirmation to this point. Cocytus would not be swayed by this, already tempered by previous expectations.
"Shalltear. May. I. Leave. Mopping. Up. Escaping. Troops. Or. Those. Running. Away. To. You?"
With a dainty curtsy, Shalltear silently left with an expression of relish. Now, what to do about showing the true wrath towards someone who wasted the precious Supreme Ones' infinite mercy of a quick death?
"Do. We. Have. The. Troops. Ready?"
"Yes, Cocytus. I have a suggestion to showing off our Supreme Ones' beauty in rule." Demiurge responded with a slowly growing grin.
Then. I. Shall. Leave. That. To. You."
---
Pelgraya-Nurm was the first to hear it. A slow repeating stomp followed by a short break and then repeating. It quickly grew and inversely morale quickly shriveled.
STOMP STOMP STOMP. Silence.
STOMP STOMP STOMP. Silence.
This continued for a short while, as the undead which comprised the enemy forces- stomped in time, a truly jaw-dropping event. Undead could be coordinated so? In this number? Pelgraya-Nurm was growing uneasy, her surrounding contingent had long passed this.
STOMP STOMP STOMP. Silence.
The undead knelt and bowed, all centered on the tent in the distance. A chill was growing like a pillar of ice in the human army. No longer centered around Pelgraya-Nurm, but on this unknown force which had appeared.
STOMP STOMP STOMP. Silence.
The army split neatly in two as the undead smoothly, rised, slid away from the center, and resumed kneeling. A golden embroidered flag, with a black seal upon the purple midnight fabric. It slowly approached the middle grounds between the two armies and assumed a straight backed stance.
STOMP STOMP STOMP. Silence.
It began hoisting the flag straight up on every stomp, down in between. With a voice unnaturally loud for a sinle creature to have- and to be heard over such a distance. A voice which while holding a degree of self-importance rasped with the clear hatred for the living. It interrupted between the stomps.
STOMP "Ainz!" STOMP "Ooal!" STOMP "Gown!". Silence.
STOMP "Ainz!" STOMP "Ooal!" STOMP "Gown!". Silence.
STOMP "Ainz!" STOMP "Ooal!" STOMP "Gown!". Silence.
This continued until they saw creatures slowly walk from both sides of the army, chilling them to the bone even more somehow. Towering, black, and wielding swords in twisting patterns with paired great shields. Adorned with red veins which pulsated and seemed to draw the viewer into their grisly visage, a face which begged for them to approach and be rent. Death Knights.
These creatures lumbered in a roundabout number as the contingent shuddered in fear, no doubt a rout was being concocted simultaneously by these non-connected creatures. As the realization dawned on them for what was happening- they were being boxed in. Those horrid creatures had spaced themselves enough to easily be able to catch them if any tried to run.
It was a do-or-die situation. And if they got resurrected it might just be a die-or-die situation. Suddenly, gripping her superiority and strength- Pelgraya-Nurm commanded these rowdy people together.
"We have no chance of running, this is truly ride or die! Keep them at bay and I'll blast them to death!" she smirked despite her creeping fear.
The soldiers prepared themselves, maybe some of them would make it out alive if they fought to either their teeth or nails.
---
Shalltear skipped along the streets, a strong undead following in tow. It was called a Living Hunter, an undead of the 50s level. It hungered for the living as its' name foretold, it however was adequately skilled for this task. It grew stronger in proportion to the living around it, which increased the radius of those included which could swell to absurd ranges depending on deployment. As well as that, it grew faster movement speed and attack speed the longer it chased an individual living creature. It towered over its surroundings and it could be slowed by those running into or hiding in buildings. This was also tempered by the fact it was sometimes unable to control itself from brutally devouring victims alive in brutal and sadistic fashions. While it could be a dangerous foe for attackers, it could easily be countered by simply sending in weak merc. NPCs to distract it or, even simpler just having a tank which had any taunt skill to constantly reset their passive.
Shalltear had been dragging along several human corpses in one hand while her umbrella was twirled in the other, snacks- not for her of course. They had easily accomplished their task, Living Hunter chasing stragglers and scaring people while Shalltear threw rocks to smash them into pieces. While its disgusting nature could never be mistaken for cute, the growl it made was of pleading. Shalltear stopped in place, sighed in an exaggerated manner, and spun with a childish waggle of her finger said-
"I GUESS you receive a treat for your good work.."
-she smiled and tossed corpses up to the Undead Hunter not unlike how one would toss treats to their pet dog. It snapped them up and smashed them like balloons between its teeth, chewing them up as if relishing a delicious piece of bubblegum.
"Gruuuu..!" it rumbled, shaking the surroundings.
"Okay, you continue with the pincer attack while I watch over this city, arinsu~."
It lumbered off as Shalltear sauntered up a walls buttressed stairs, before shortly perching herself to watch the ensuing battle, kicking her feet, and cutely twirling her umbrella.
---
STOMP "Ainz!" STOMP "Ooal!" STOMP "Gown!". Silence.
STOMP "Ainz!" STOMP "Ooal!" STOMP "Gown!". Silence.
STOMP "Ainz!" STOMP "Ooal!" STOMP "Gown!". Silence.
Suddenly, it stopped. Jolting the mercenaries to attention. The undead chanter turned itself to the side and took steps back. A towering creature stepped forth from the tent and walked down the alley towards them.
As a slow frost gently billowed forth from the enemy side, the soldiers teeth began clacking. Pelgraya-Nurm, being cold-blooded, especially. The creature walked forth, eyes glinting in the dwindling sunlight and planted itself where the chanter had been. It slammed its weapons- a giant curved sword with a long hilt, a halberd, and an oddly small thin blade. The halberd and large sword had their hilts planted in the crackling, dry earth.
Silence. No one dared breath. The battlefield had shrunk and the contingent realized this. They were audibly shaking now, armor clinking over armor. Pelgraya-Nurm moved to say something was cut off by a shriek from behind them. A shriek which sounded like souls whining to be realsed from eternal torment.
Rubble came crashing down around them, slushing some of them and maiming others. Pelgraya-Nurm was struck by a huge chunk of wall directly in the face as she looked up, knocking her out cold. She was unable to witness the creature which had crumbled the walls from behind like a child might crush a graham cracker in their hands. It lurched over, so close it could look some of them face to face. It rasped a disgusting swathe of undead stench over them and seemingly chuckled. It- counter to its' size, grasped several soldiers with its armored mitts and tossed them into the air. The resulting crunch of the bone heralded the beginning to the skirmish.
As the undead began marching towards them, their attention was diverted between the encroaching mass of dead and the fact this creature summarily had grasped Pelgraya-Nurm and slowly dragged her with them. Their trump card removed, they were finished in barely ten minutes.
---
Pelgraya-Nurm awoke slowly, her vision blurry and ear-holes ringing.
"????? ??????? ?? ??? ????..." something murmured. She did not know or care whether this was directed at her, and she was focused on simply getting up and wreaking havoc among these filthy peasants. She toppled over, due to her weight and a force pushing her down.
"??! ??? ????? ? ??? ?????? ??? ? wonder ?? sama ??? ???????? ?? ?????" failed to breach her head and report anything communicable to her brain. She was slowly coming to and realized she was surrounded.
A silver haired thing, a creature in orange vestment, and the tall white thing from before.
"Waking ??? ?? ???? ?. Good. ??? ?? ?? begin."
The silver-hair and white- thing stood with smug(?) looks (she had never cared to learn human expressions) as the orange-suit walked forward.
"How would you ???? do this?" the orange-ones' movement was making her dizzy again, however she had the upper hand- quickly she cast a [Silent Magic: Ultra Fireball] in a deft motion. Before that she was struck across the head which sent her reeling and slightly rolling. The fuzziness returned-
"No." orange-suit said, muffled by her newly made brain fog.
"A bit gentler ???? ?????? Ainz-sama ???? ???? this one ??? all." the silver-hair piped up
"Indeed. It. Will ????. ?. ??????. Prize. For. ???. Ainz. Sama. ????. It. Would. Seem. ???. ?. ??????. Bauble." white-thing responded.
Her vision returning, she weakly lifted her head and was promptly struck again- she had been bitch-slapped. It wasn't as forceful as before, which allowed her to go all out and cast [Maximize Magic: Ultra Fireball], [Maximize Magic: Magic Arrow], and [Maximi-
She was bitch slapped once.
She was bitch slapped twice.
She was bitch slapped a third time.
Her head was whipped around comically with the applied beatings.
"????. ??. ????. ???. Awaits." the white-thing stated
"??????." the silver-hair responded
"??. ??? ????? ????." the orange-suit concurred.
Pelgraya-Nurm was gripped by her throat as she was recovering from this. The orange-thing gripped her throat with a single thing, threatening to crush her windpipe. Slowly she started being dragged along behind them, at a brisk pace. The cobblestone of the city around her and the subsequent rocky ground, for the first time hurt as she was roughly dragged along it.
She struggled, and was thrown onto the ground and bitch-slapped again, gripped by the throat, and dragged along again. This continued two more times, but Pelgraya-Nurm was exhausted, not only from her large size' energy need, the beatings, and an unknown exposure to the sunlight. She felt weak and the fight left her. She was dragged along the long, slow, path towards that tent.
---
They finally arrived in front of the tent and she was again slammed into the ground, this time in a much harder throw. The wind and tears were knocked from her, the ground cracking underneath this crushing blow. The white-thing, silver-hair, and orange-suit all prostrated themselves towards the tent. An encroaching fear was growing over Pelgraya-Nurm and she bowed her head to the ground (again, partly from exhaustion and the beatings).
"Ainz-sama! We have brought this disgusting specimen before you as you have asked!" the three spoke in unison. Pelgraya-Nurm understood. Ainz Ooal Gown was not a country or a simple fief but someone these things bowed before.
As the aforementioned one fluttered the tent flap open, a finely decorated skeleton thing- followed by a demi-angel(?). Fear pierced her through like a harpoon, and felt as if it was being pulled through her guts. She openly shook and hoped maybe since they had brought her forth, they might allow her to at least live. Undead were known to hate the living, but maybe since this one surrounded itself by the living it would be merciful.
---
Ainz flapped open the tent, and was greeted with Demiurge, Shalltear, and Cocytus. He received their gift of this prisoner-of-war, and consequently praised their efforts. This praise made them seemingly shiver with delight. But to Pelgraya-Nurm, it was unnoticed- she was too focused on this one called "Ainz."
"A-Ainz-sama?" She spat up as she pressed her head into the head indent she had made earlier. "I-"
Ainz sliced his hand horizontally as if to cut her in twain.
"Silence." it commanded.
She began tearing up, how could fate deny her strength. She had made herself a slowly growing land, full with servants, and glory to her. Why had this thing come here? Why her?
"To viciously murder ones followers, loyal beings- is a sin I cannot abide. To do so, is to be scum of the worst kind. I do not normally do this, but I shall relish this. Cocytus lift her."
Before she could run, white-thing grabbed her by the forehead and lifted her straight up. This painful grip denied her any chance to pull free, her large body squirming halfways upon the ground. Her arms pulled and scraped the ground and attempted to pull herself free by pushing against Cocytus. She was like a child being lifted by the leg, helpless against her coming doom.
Ainz flicked his wrist and a magic circle appeared before his bony hand. With that he made a faux-gripping motion and she could no longer move her body and some of her arms. It felt like she was truly being gripped within his grasp. Her arms now flailed uselessly and she screamed and cried as she too flailed. Her last thought was that she had never found a mate, maybe a human HAD been her only chance.
With that flick of the wrist, she was summarily twisted around, multiple times, in a quick clockwise turn. Cocytus' grip being the axis of this sickly pirouette, evoking the look of a ballroom dance. Cocytus subsequently dropped the head.
"Send it to be picked clean, and Living Hunter to patrol."
​
Much later, after confirming everything was razed and destroyed- the Living Hunter gleefully engorged itself among the feast of the battlefield.
​

TL;DR: 2021: Larageal cancer- left vocal cord - radiation treatment for cure. June 2022: Oropharyngeal Cancer that spread to one Lymph node w/ENE - Surgery to treat. Soft palate resection and modified radical neck dissection, but lost a lot of muscle and feeling in the area. Long read.
---
Well, It's about time I tell my story. I was the one that complained about cancer turning into the Obits, and started this subreddit bringing with me my wonderful and loyal sidekicks Diligent and Nopolicy, and our resident teen named Secret came over much later. He was undergoing chemo the whole time, and runs cancerteens as well.
In 2021 I started to notice my voice was getting a bit hoarse and I would need to cough in order to clear it up. It was before the Spring, but I don't recall it happening around the Holidays. It was a gradual thing. It got worse slowly. In June I was at my PCP's office for my annual and had already done my lab work the week prior. He said everything was ok.
I mentioned my voice issues. He tells me it's possible it could be silent reflux causing it. He wants me to buy some Nexium and take it for 2-4 weeks, and see if it helps. If not, he's referring me to an ENT. It didn't work. I get into the ENT after a couple of months. I had wanted a specific person, and that office didn't call back, I kept waiting on the referral. I finally just called them and ask for the first available appointment and told them what was wrong with me. I was in the office in a couple of days.
I liked the Otolaryngologist immediately. I had a feeling what was going on wasn't good. We introduced each other and he asked me if I had lost weight recently, had earaches, sore throat, etc. Those were his first questions. Thinking back, my voice was probably a pretty good giveaway by now. Anyway, I had none of the other issues. He scoped me. He then sits down and tells me there's a lesion on my left vocal cord. I reply "Doc, I've been thinking about this for awhile. Whatever is in my throat, it's either cancer, or it's not. I have a pretty good idea that you can tell by looking at it, what it looks like to you. Maybe not 100%, but close. So, it would be nice, if I just knew now, so the waiting doesn't have to be torture. I've made peace with it either way." He told me there it looks like cancer and in these circumstances we will refer you to an Oncologist - generally radiation gets rid of these things. What was interesting was he said, "The lesion almost looks like a wart!" After the biopsy it was P16 + meaning HPV +.
We tried to do the biopsy the next Tuesday. I was rushing around getting a blood test and getting everything together. The appointment was on a Friday and I only had a couple more business hours to do what I needed to do on my end. However, I got a voicemail from the Surgeon's office that does my Colonoscopies. He had been at the hospital and ran across my lab work. I was scheduled to have a colonoscopy 2 weeks from then. He left me a message my Potassium was low and I needed to bring it up a bit. I forget about the call and show up to the outpatient clinic to get the Biopsy.
I'm in a gown waiting. I've met the Anesthesiologist, seen my ENT, but for some reason I'm finally reminded of that phone call when that nurse comes in again. I tell her about the voicemail I received over the weekend. I ask her to go see if she can check my labs and check my Potassium levels. She comes back with my ENT I have to explain to the ENT that someone who works at the hospital for my surgeon called over the weekend about my potassium levels being low, and this is surprising to him. Surgeons usually also don't do colonoscopies. Mine was my surgeon at one time. So, my ENT now gets the Anesthesiologist. The nurse is standing there beside me while the Anesthesiologist is saying its a no go. We can't do the biopsy. Too risky. I'm wondering to myself why he never looked at my labs to begin with as well. What if I had forgotten to bring this up?
My doctor called in Klor-Kon (high dose potassium) and I later had the biopsy. It was a SCC Lesion P16 + 1.6 x 0.5 x 0.3 cm in aggregate at the time of biopsy. After that time seemed to slow way down while they were putting my treatment plan together. I started radiation the 1st week of December 2021 I believe. Maybe the 2nd. My last day of radiation was 1/29/2022.
Four months later I was diagnosed with cancer again, but It started about it probably 8 weeks after radiation ended. I just thought it was a side affect of radiation at first. If your mouth sores don't heal or go away, GET THEM CHECKED.
That biopsy was easily done in my ENT's office. I bet he hated that phone call he had to make to me and tell me it was cancer AGAIN so soon. He referred me to an Oncologist/ Head & Neck Surgeon in Chapel Hill, NC. I got a PET to see if any of my nodes had been affected and one was. So, June 10th 2022 I was in surgery for a soft palate resection, and radical neck dissection on the right side. I didn't know how much was going to happen to me before going under. I signed that it was possible I may have to have a flap, and a graft done, etc. Luckily they were able to get clean margins without having to cut out too much and my mouth looks normal. You can tell something has happened to my neck if you look for it.
Next month will be 1 year NED if my CT wants to play nice. Hopefully many more years to go, and that radiation will be the gift that doesn't keep giving so much..
-S
I'm being lazy, so I didn't grammar check this post. My apologies for that.

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The large man with a beard trailing down his neck jumped to action at the sight of his dead Prince he thrust forward with a growl of rage but Honey dove to the left while simultaneously giving the thrust a hard parry, he moved his sword in a downward arch to blunt the return strike then raised the light sword in a reversed grip to tear into the large man's throat through his mangy beard. The man collapsed.
The lad with a pinched face didn't have time to draw his sword for Honey was among them in a blink of an eye, he thrust through the man's hauberk and yanked the sword free with a trail of blood. The man on the left side stepped a swipe but it was a decoy for the swaying movement of Honey's sword decapitated the man on the right with an upward drift. Three men remained standing before Honey Badger who'd dived back a step, they glanced at the dead bodies littering the cobble ground of the bridge and flinched back a step.
"Run." Honey said with a smile and the trio turned and bolted to the west end of the bridge.
Honey Badger moved with a casual walk towards the head of Prince Lewis, he lifted it up with a yank of the mopy brown hair then hurled it towards Asumpta's feet. The war leader of the Solstice army observed the head of her foe lying on the ground, tongue leaning out between grimacing teeth.
"They will attack right about the moment those three," Honey pointed at the backs of the retreating trio. "Arrive at their camp at the end of the bridge." He smiled. "It's your call on how you shall act."
"What have you done?" Asumpta whispered.
"I've given you victory."
Asumpta turned towards a bedazzled Lyan. "Ready the sisters for a charge." She motioned behind her. "All hands on deck, forward charge triple time." She said.
Lyan nodded and gave a shout, then a scream. "CHARGE!"She called. From behind them Honey Badger watched as the women climbed down the hill, abandoning their camp and streaming down hill with light swords held at the ready, they formed clusters near the east end of the mouth of the bridge, warbands that had no doubt been trained to move as a whole.
Asumpta turned back and faced her sisters. She leaned down and grabbed Prince Lewis's head. She raised it high above her head and let out a shout that was answered with a roar that shook the very ground they stood on. "They will charge." She shouted into the day's light. "But we shall meet them with our own charge." She screamed. "For the Solstice."
Thousands of sisters raised their light swords, some of them rasping free of their conscabbards to point at the arching sun, Agarath. "For the Solstice." They called out.
Asumpta turned around and nodded at Honey Badger, he answered with a smile then a wink then turned around to face the west end of the bridge. He let loose a held breath and grinned at the prospect of the oncoming bloodshed. He raised the light sword in hand and pointed forward then he broke into a dash. Screaming like a fool and behind him thousands of feet mimicked his run as the swell of women poured into the bridge and charged towards their foe. All the while humming a tune that Honey Badger had to admit that he loved.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"What's happening?" Tweek asked as the battle cry roar reached them within the dungeons.
"Honey Badger's probably tried to seduce Asumpta." Juice answered.
Tweek straightened. "He wouldn't dare.".
"He has this technique where he yanks out his penis, flashing it at the woman he desires followed by the words 'Are you going to keep talking or will you place it into your mouth?'" Juice replied.
"That's disgusting." Tweek answered.
"If it works then it's more effective than disgusting." Astro Boy said.
"There's a lot of complications that will stem from a man flashing his penis at the woman of his desire." Tweek said.
"Honey has a beautiful penis, it's as if God took the extra height he lacks and added it to his pecker, it's round at the top, just like a mushroom and it's girth expands the lower you go towards his navel." Juice said.
"Where did you see his penis?" Tweek asked. Confused.
"He showed it to me at the alley."
"That goddamn alley." Tweek retorted.
"His penis must be a thing of wonder indeed to cause so many women to roar with bloodlust at its sight." Astro Boy said.
"He said that's what always occurs when he brandished it." Juice replied.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Honey brandished his sword ahead of him, beside him to the right Asumpta outpaced him, sword in her left mechanical arm. The white flag having been discarded. To his left Lyan raced, a long spear with a golden tipped end in hand, pointing forward. Behind them an army of women matched their strides and hummed a high crescendo that chilled the blood. Nothing could wipe out Honey's grin as they neared the center of the bridge. Before them the army of the late Prince Lewis charged, their feet smacking the cobblestones in thousands of steps, light swords held ahead of them. A roar emanating from their throats, but their charge lacked the necessary venom the Soltice army had. Their formation was too haphazard and their eyes bulged with the unmistakable tinge of fear. Honey was certain they would rip them apart.
The two armies inched closer together, then molded into a mash of blood and guts. Swords flew free of dismembered arms and yells and cries from both sides reached the heavens. Honey was in his element, he understood that there was no clean way to fight during war. That the dirtier one was the more they prevailed on the battlefield. He smashed an elbow into a man's face, turned and thrust through another's thigh. He yanked his sword to parry a strike then leaned low to cut off a man's leg at the knee. He twisted in a forward thrust that took a man at the the throat then dashed forward to decapitate a man Asumpta was matching wits with. The armies merged together and the Solstice pushed ever forward, deeper into the ranks of Prince Lewis's men and leaving a bloodbath behind with every step.
Honey parried a low strike, side stepped another and drove forward to drive his sword through a man's lower chin, the blade caught at the jawbone but a savage yank had it free. Blood sprayed free of limbs and necks and he bathed in it, a savage smile on his face. As his pink Lethal Strapper turned black to match his mood. He pirouette, sword arching in a spinning wave that blinded one and eviscerated another.
"TURTLE FORMATION." Asumpta yelled.
Lyan thrust through a man's heart. Raised herself from her bent form and let loose a scream, another scream, then another. The ranks of women replied with a scream of their own then banded together in clusters of swords and spears. Honey Badger found himself sandwiched between Lyan and Asumpta with several women behind him.
"Forward." Asumpta yelled.
"HAIL THE SOLSTICE." A cry sounded and the women pushed forward. Thrusting and parting strikes. The ranks of men before them melted under the assault of the turtle formations, blood flew in rivulets from the veins of the injured or dead army of Prince Lewis.
"This is the best day of my life." Honey Badger said and licked at a drop of blood making its way across the side of his mouth. Asumpta smiled and together they edged forward.

Lightning illuminated the dark alleys of the city of Vitra, and thunder muffled the curses that escaped Luna and Kalua's mouths each time they nearly slipped on the muddy and wet cobblestones of the city streets. It was dark, and the streets were nearly empty, populated only by unconscious drunks and other questionable individuals whom it would be best to keep a distance from. It was an unwanted, momentary symbiosis that had to serve their purpose at that moment - not to die at the hands of whoever was chasing them.
"Where to, Kalua, where to?" Luna said, her voice breathless, echoing off the walls as she ran.
"I don't know, he didn't give clear instructions on the exact location. He only said you would know it when you see it and that it's somewhere in an alley near the center." Kalua replied.
"Sometimes I feel like killing him with my own hands, what a shitty set of instructions. All the streets look the same." Luna sighed out of anger and exhaustion as she ran aimlessly through the alleys. "How am I supposed to know what the hell was going through his head when he gave these instructions?"
Bol'shie Vitragorod was a city with classical architecture from that era. What made it a tourist attraction was its immense commercial center. Buildings closer to the city center were adorned with colorful bricks and tiles, and their commonly green roofs gave them a unique charm and sense of beauty, which was in stark contrast to the situation the two found themselves in.
In St. Turyn Square, an area where tourists congregated and where Luna and Kalua were currently passing through, there were huge and beautiful stained glass windows decorating the shops, further enhancing the experience of visiting the city. Stained glass was expensive to make, and Vitra was known as the city of great stained glass for a good reason. In the center of the square, there was a large white fountain surrounded by benches, dividing the square into two parts. They had been running for a while at this point, evading their pursuers numerous times, but they always seemed to know their whereabouts. When they entered what would be Vitra's largest square, two thugs came towards them. They stopped, their legs burning like embers, each breath more suffocating than the last.
"Whoever finishes first helps the other." Kalua said between breaths.
Luna nodded.
They started going in opposite directions around the fountain, and their pursuers did the same, already unsheathing their weapons. Luna had two daggers, while Kalua carried a steel sword that gave him the reach and strength needed to subdue many of the adversaries he would face. Luna didn't have that advantage, but she possessed uncommon quickness and awareness of her surroundings.
Knowing that the enemy would likely underestimate her, Luna did what she had been learning from Lorcan. She used her intelligence and speed to gain the initial advantage. "Fighting is like a dance, and your advantage will always be that no one expects a little princess to dance as well as they do. Never forget that." her master would say, and she intended to use it to her advantage whenever she could. With her daggers in hand, the left one with a normal grip and the right one with the blade turned towards her elbow, Luna swiftly advanced towards her opponent, who took a step back.
"Gotcha." Luna thought. What he had unconsciously done was allow fear to take hold of him. To less observant eyes, this act would have been seen as the surprise of a defenseless princess fearlessly advancing towards him. However, this was the opening Luna had been expecting, sooner or later.
A warrior's stance is formed with their dominant foot behind while the other is positioned in front, providing stability and momentum for their movements and the ability to dodge attacks without the risk of losing balance, which is the greatest advantage of all. By taking a step back without using his supporting foot, the bandit unknowingly made his posture, already affected by the downpour, straight, allowing Luna to exploit that small slip that, in most times, would cost anyone their life.
Luna then hurled the dagger in her left hand straight at his head, making sure he saw her leaning in shortly after. When he started to make the move to defend his face from the hurl, she used the outside of the fountain as a propellant, avoiding the underhand swing the bandit would make with his sword due to the false signal she had given him seconds ago. The rain could've been clouding his vision, but nothing would stop him from seeing the blood rushing into Luna's eyes as she dodged his attack, the wind rushing beneath her feet.
"Your eyes." the thug said, following the girl's movement, incredulous, as his body completed what would have been his final attack.
As soon as Luna landed firmly on the ground, she forcefully thrust her dagger into the poor wretch's skull, with the blade penetrating his head. Removing the dagger as easily as it had entered, she crouched to retrieve her other one, which had fallen just inches away from her. She then looked across the fountain, and Kalua was still engaged in a fight with his opponent when the voices of more thugs began to resonate behind them.
"They're in St. Turyn Square, move!"
Luna stared intently at the alley behind them and turned to Kalua. They needed to act quickly, or it would be too late to run again.
"Kalua, we don't have time anymore. Shove him and run."
The thug, momentarily distracted to check if his comrade had indeed been defeated, was promptly pushed by Kalua, who started running, leaving him behind. Luna, on the other side of the fountain, threw one of her daggers at him, hitting the inattentive aggressor squarely due to the boy who was running past him. The two of them then met and continued running without a second thought through the nearest alley from that point.
"You owe me a dagger." Luna's sarcastic tone did not go unnoticed by Kalua, who interpreted it as an attempt to lighten the situation.
"If we survive, I'll give you much more than a dagger." Kalua said, smiling. "Now shut up and pay attention. We need to find this damn thing quickly, or you'll have to carry me while fighting."
Luna wanted to retort, but she didn't have the energy for it, and she would need every small amount of energy she had left. Upon entering what would be one of the city's several small squares, a stained glass window with the image of a banana on a sign at the entrance of an alley caught Luna's eye, and before she could rationalize any thoughts, she was already turning in that direction.
"Turn here!" - Luna said, pointing to the alley in question.
It was hard to notice at that moment, given that they were running for their lives, but the shops, inns, and few residences in the center were beautiful and adorned, while the houses in the alleys had a comforting simplicity that contrasted with the vibrant colors of the commercial areas. They were like a rainbow connecting to another rainbow through a mass of dark colors like clay, faded wine, and similar shades. The alleys provided some visual relief after being surrounded by such vivid colors.
They also resembled of grandmothers' houses, but tightly packed next to each other, as if several grandmothers had moved to the same place. Luna and Kalua might have found it amusing, had they realized this fact in a moment when their lives weren't in danger.
As they turned into the alley, their shoulders began to sag. It looked like all the other alleys they had passed through so far. The two of them decided to stop for a moment to catch their breath. They had been running for almost an hour and needed a new strategy or some miracle.
"Can you conjure again?" Luna noticed the plea in Kalua's voice amidst the noise of the rain and the shouts of the pursuers.
"I can." Luna said, "but it won't be as strong as before. I'm not even sure if it will have any effect..."
"It will have to do." Kalua replied between breaths. "We can't run anymore. We'll have to kill them and find shelter in one of these houses or hide somewhere nearby. See if you can find a place for us to ambush them."
Kalua started walking, scanning the rooftops for any suitable connection, but the rain and the lack of light sources made it difficult to see.
"Damn rain, I can't see anything."
"I found it!" Luna exclaimed as lightning revealed a mini wooden bridge connecting two houses above. "Lift me up quickly."
In the blink of an eye, Kalua turned and positioned himself to lift her into the air. Years of climbing high areas in the castle made her a proficient climber, but she was far from being a professional. Luna took a few steps back to gain momentum and started running towards Kalua. However, the slippery ground betrayed her, causing her to slip just before the jump. Fortunately, Kalua adjusted to Luna's clumsy movement and lifted her just enough for her to grab onto the bridge, grunting from the extra effort he had to give to compensate for Luna's lack of fluidity. Once she climbed up, she focused on the enchantment as much as she could. Their lives depended on her success because they didn't know how many pursuers would come, and they needed all the help they could get. Moments later, three pursuers turned the corner, their laughter echoing and amplifying with the distant thunder.
"Well, well, if it isn't our favorite little wolf boy. Where's the princess, huh?" The one talking had paused and looked back at the two behind him, a smile forming on his face. "You stayed behind to protect her?" They laughed. "How cute..."
Luna refrained from hurling a string of curses at them because she was too busy focusing on the enchantment, but it was a close call. It was stronger than her.
"You're having too much fun for three dead men. You should be more careful." Kalua said.
The three of them laughed again, and this time, two drew their swords while one stayed back with a bow in hand.
"Shit." Luna thought, knowing that the enchantment wouldn't affect the archer. "We'll have to improvise." She looked at Kalua, and that reassured her a bit. She could see that they were on the same page at least.
When the two in front were just inches away from Luna, Kalua, with his sword already drawn, shouted, "Now!" and charged towards them, causing them to step back, this time in the right way. But as lightning struck nearby, they caught a glimpse of Luna above them. Unfortunately for them, it was already too late. Luna disrupted the enchantment on the bandits, freezing them in place. She celebrated internally, but deep down, she didn't know how long they would remain like that.
"Not bad, princess." Kalua said, smiling. "Leave them to me, take care of the archer."
Luna gave the archer a piercing gaze with a smile on her face.
Many battles are won even before the drawing of the swords. In this case, the archer without his companions would already be at a disadvantage, even with a long-range weapon. The rain hindered his aim, and the lack of a solid ground for his bow was also starting to affect him, now that he realized it was just him against the two and that he might have to run. But the factor that scared him the most was the gaze of the supposed helpless girl.
"Why is she smiling at me like that?" the bandit thought.
She jumped from the walkway, rolling exactly at the moment her toes touched the ground. In that same movement, she already drew her dagger, and when she raised her head, she was just over a meter away from the archer.
He was trying to draw an arrow, but his trembling fingers betrayed his lack of steadiness. Luna noticed his difficulty and acted swiftly, dodging to the right to get out of the archer's line of sight, who would soon manage to fit an arrow in his bow. In a fluid and quick motion, she spun her body, lifting her right leg in the air and extending it in a curved motion, hitting the upper part of the bow with the sole of her foot. Luna's kick made the bow fall from the unsteady hands of a frightened bandit, who now found himself without his weapon and at the mercy of the princess.
After completing the movement, as soon as Luna faced him again, she kept her right foot firmly on the ground while raising and rotating her knee and body to the right, keeping her arms close to herself to amplify the rotation. When she was facing away from the archer, she took a small leap, now supporting herself with her left foot and finishing the movement with her right foot in the chest of the unfortunate man in front of her, who fell back just over half a meter. Luna was not particularly tall or had much brute strength, but she caught the bandit off guard with her speed while executing the perfect form of the kick. It was a dangerous combination and proved to be effective.
"You wretched!" growled the archer. "I'll carve your whole face."
"To do that, you need to get up first." Luna sang.
The archer snorted while still on the ground, and when he stood up, unsheathing his knife, the fight had officially ended. There weren't enough blades in the world to stop what would come next. It was like an animal about to be devoured, and they both knew it.
Luna took two steps toward him, and before he could realize it, she had slashed his throat in a swift movement of her dagger. The archer, shocked from the entire fight and now facing his imminent death, tried to curse the girl. His body reacting slower than his mind, which had already grasped the entire situation. His voice came out muffled, as if trying to speak with water in his mouth. And before he embraced death, Luna captured his gaze, and the last thing he saw were Luna's lupine eyes and smile.
"Sorry, I couldn't understand." Luna said. "Can you repeat, please?"
She only regained awareness of the world around her when she felt the rain on her again. When she turned to Kalua to see how he fared, she found two bodies lying on the ground. She caught him staring at her, but couldn't decipher his expression.
"Let's go quickly before the others find us." Kalua said, but before he finished his sentence, a door a little further down the alley opened, and a mysterious voice came out.
"Come in, quickly." the stranger said.
Reluctant but with few options in sight, they both ran straight inside when they heard other bandits in the street behind the alley.
Entering the house, the feeling of grandmother's cozy home remained. For Kalua, it would be like a great inn, but for Luna, who had lived as royalty her whole life, even though it reminded her of good memories with her people in Rostta, the old man's house was not the coziest environment she had ever been in. Although this fact was irrelevant because more than just comfort, that house and that mysterious old man had given her a means to survive. That being said, she was surprised by the number of furniture and their quality. "Common" people didn't usually have so much furniture in their homes. Inside the house, there were two small benches with leather upholstery that seemed moderately cozy and accommodated up to two people, maybe three if they squeezed a bit. There was a fancier rocking chair, which looked almost like a king's bed, where probably only the old man sat, and it was definitely the most expensive item among the furnishings. Finally, there were two dressers filled with books next to the fireplace, made of simple wood but with excellent finishing.
Everything was organized and clean, although the exterior didn't share the same adjectives. The kitchen was connected to the living room and was clean and simple, with a fireplace area where the cauldron was placed together with a stone bench with three high stools, almost like a bar. He was certainly not as poor as the peasants further away from the commercial center. Behind him, there was also a hallway, but it was not possible to see where it led. Both entered with their weapons still in hand, pointing them at the man in front of them.
He sighed.
"A little rude to point a weapon at your benefactor, isn't it? I thought Lorcan would have taught you better, Miss Dallecielli."
"How do you know my real surname?" Luna said, gripping the dagger's handle even tighter.
The man narrowed his eyes slightly and furrowed his brow, looking her up and down.
"You must be on an adrenaline rush if you haven't connected the dots yet."
Luna then realized - her muscles were on fire from the energy her body had given her to fight. She hadn't noticed how tense she was until he commented on it. The man continued.
"Lorcan told me a lot about you. Unfortunately, for both of us, we're connected to him like a host is connected to a deadly virus."
Luna began to relax a bit, loosening her grip on the dagger.
"Judging by your appearance, some would disagree with your comment." Luna retorted. "Lorcan told me that everyone he knew is either dead or missing. You seem to be doing well, despite your age, and certainly not missing."
The old man laughed.
"Well, I'm one of the rare cases where the illness hasn't killed me yet. But it's too early to celebrate, isn't it?"
Luna gave a half-smile.
"I've put dry clothes for both of you in the bedrooms. You're soaked and making a mess of my house, leave the wet clothes drying on the clothesline at the back." he paused for a moment. "And get your damn hands off the handles of your blades before I break them."
Both suddenly took a breath after the last sentence, although Luna noticed a smirk on the old man's face.
"He's definitely a friend of Lorcan." Luna thought.
"You are my guests, change and come eat. I've finished the pork stew." the old man added.
"And how should your guests address you, sir?" Kalua asked, pretending to be pompous to irritate him.
"Tyvan is my name, boy. A great pleasure." the old man said, emotionless. "Now go, before I decide to add ungrateful youth meat to the stew recipe."
The two hurried off to the corridor.
"Damn kids." Tyvan whispered as the young ones headed towards the bedroom.
~~~~~~
Hello there, this is the first chapter of my "working in progress" medieval fantasy story and I'm in a desperately need of people who can read and give me some insights about my actions scenes, dialogues, pacing etc.
I'm not good at synopsis, but here it is: Luna, a fearless princess from one of the six kingdoms of Aevum, finds herself in the midst of a harrowing and relentless fight for survival. Accompanied by Kalua, they strive to unravel the numerous mysteries that surround their destinies, uncovering plots filled with theological intrigues, power games, and dark conspiracies in the underworld. Amidst this journey fraught with uncertainties, Luna and Kalua are driven by a desperate longing for answers that will lead them to the heart of a universe where not everything is as it seems.
I know it may sound cliché haha but this is only the first chapter. I also have a prologue and more chapters already ""published"" on wattpad with the same name in the title and a link for the doc of the story, if you get interested in what I'm writing. I'll be happy to answer and interact with y'all.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1l2k1oWwnjOVgy7vGghjuQCpaKdsN9t8P6EnHV59FnOg/edit?usp=sharing
Thanks for your time and I hope you enjoy it.

Lightning illuminated the dark alleys of the city of Vitra, and thunder muffled the curses that escaped Luna and Kalua's mouths each time they nearly slipped on the muddy and wet cobblestones of the city streets. It was dark, and the streets were nearly empty, populated only by unconscious drunks and other questionable individuals whom it would be best to keep a distance from. It was an unwanted, momentary symbiosis that had to serve their purpose at that moment - not to die at the hands of whoever was chasing them.
"Where to, Kalua, where to?" Luna said, her voice breathless, echoing off the walls as she ran.
"I don't know, he didn't give clear instructions on the exact location. He only said you would know it when you see it and that it's somewhere in an alley near the center." Kalua replied.
"Sometimes I feel like killing him with my own hands, what a shitty set of instructions. All the streets look the same." Luna sighed out of anger and exhaustion as she ran aimlessly through the alleys. "How am I supposed to know what the hell was going through his head when he gave these instructions?"
Bol'shie Vitragorod was a city with classical architecture from that era. What made it a tourist attraction was its immense commercial center. Buildings closer to the city center were adorned with colorful bricks and tiles, and their commonly green roofs gave them a unique charm and sense of beauty, which was in stark contrast to the situation the two found themselves in.
In St. Turyn Square, an area where tourists congregated and where Luna and Kalua were currently passing through, there were huge and beautiful stained glass windows decorating the shops, further enhancing the experience of visiting the city. Stained glass was expensive to make, and Vitra was known as the city of great stained glass for a good reason. In the center of the square, there was a large white fountain surrounded by benches, dividing the square into two parts. They had been running for a while at this point, evading their pursuers numerous times, but they always seemed to know their whereabouts. When they entered what would be Vitra's largest square, two thugs came towards them. They stopped, their legs burning like embers, each breath more suffocating than the last.
"Whoever finishes first helps the other." Kalua said between breaths.
Luna nodded.
They started going in opposite directions around the fountain, and their pursuers did the same, already unsheathing their weapons. Luna had two daggers, while Kalua carried a steel sword that gave him the reach and strength needed to subdue many of the adversaries he would face. Luna didn't have that advantage, but she possessed uncommon quickness and awareness of her surroundings.
Knowing that the enemy would likely underestimate her, Luna did what she had been learning from Lorcan. She used her intelligence and speed to gain the initial advantage. "Fighting is like a dance, and your advantage will always be that no one expects a little princess to dance as well as they do. Never forget that." her master would say, and she intended to use it to her advantage whenever she could. With her daggers in hand, the left one with a normal grip and the right one with the blade turned towards her elbow, Luna swiftly advanced towards her opponent, who took a step back.
"Gotcha." Luna thought. What he had unconsciously done was allow fear to take hold of him. To less observant eyes, this act would have been seen as the surprise of a defenseless princess fearlessly advancing towards him. However, this was the opening Luna had been expecting, sooner or later.
A warrior's stance is formed with their dominant foot behind while the other is positioned in front, providing stability and momentum for their movements and the ability to dodge attacks without the risk of losing balance, which is the greatest advantage of all. By taking a step back without using his supporting foot, the bandit unknowingly made his posture, already affected by the downpour, straight, allowing Luna to exploit that small slip that, in most times, would cost anyone their life.
Luna then hurled the dagger in her left hand straight at his head, making sure he saw her leaning in shortly after. When he started to make the move to defend his face from the hurl, she used the outside of the fountain as a propellant, avoiding the underhand swing the bandit would make with his sword due to the false signal she had given him seconds ago. The rain could've been clouding his vision, but nothing would stop him from seeing the blood rushing into Luna's eyes as she dodged his attack, the wind rushing beneath her feet.
"Your eyes." the thug said, following the girl's movement, incredulous, as his body completed what would have been his final attack.
As soon as Luna landed firmly on the ground, she forcefully thrust her dagger into the poor wretch's skull, with the blade penetrating his head. Removing the dagger as easily as it had entered, she crouched to retrieve her other one, which had fallen just inches away from her. She then looked across the fountain, and Kalua was still engaged in a fight with his opponent when the voices of more thugs began to resonate behind them.
"They're in St. Turyn Square, move!"
Luna stared intently at the alley behind them and turned to Kalua. They needed to act quickly, or it would be too late to run again.
"Kalua, we don't have time anymore. Shove him and run."
The thug, momentarily distracted to check if his comrade had indeed been defeated, was promptly pushed by Kalua, who started running, leaving him behind. Luna, on the other side of the fountain, threw one of her daggers at him, hitting the inattentive aggressor squarely due to the boy who was running past him. The two of them then met and continued running without a second thought through the nearest alley from that point.
"You owe me a dagger." Luna's sarcastic tone did not go unnoticed by Kalua, who interpreted it as an attempt to lighten the situation.
"If we survive, I'll give you much more than a dagger." Kalua said, smiling. "Now shut up and pay attention. We need to find this damn thing quickly, or you'll have to carry me while fighting."
Luna wanted to retort, but she didn't have the energy for it, and she would need every small amount of energy she had left. Upon entering what would be one of the city's several small squares, a stained glass window with the image of a banana on a sign at the entrance of an alley caught Luna's eye, and before she could rationalize any thoughts, she was already turning in that direction.
"Turn here!" - Luna said, pointing to the alley in question.
It was hard to notice at that moment, given that they were running for their lives, but the shops, inns, and few residences in the center were beautiful and adorned, while the houses in the alleys had a comforting simplicity that contrasted with the vibrant colors of the commercial areas. They were like a rainbow connecting to another rainbow through a mass of dark colors like clay, faded wine, and similar shades. The alleys provided some visual relief after being surrounded by such vivid colors.
They also resembled of grandmothers' houses, but tightly packed next to each other, as if several grandmothers had moved to the same place. Luna and Kalua might have found it amusing, had they realized this fact in a moment when their lives weren't in danger.
As they turned into the alley, their shoulders began to sag. It looked like all the other alleys they had passed through so far. The two of them decided to stop for a moment to catch their breath. They had been running for almost an hour and needed a new strategy or some miracle.
"Can you conjure again?" Luna noticed the plea in Kalua's voice amidst the noise of the rain and the shouts of the pursuers.
"I can." Luna said, "but it won't be as strong as before. I'm not even sure if it will have any effect..."
"It will have to do." Kalua replied between breaths. "We can't run anymore. We'll have to kill them and find shelter in one of these houses or hide somewhere nearby. See if you can find a place for us to ambush them."
Kalua started walking, scanning the rooftops for any suitable connection, but the rain and the lack of light sources made it difficult to see.
"Damn rain, I can't see anything."
"I found it!" Luna exclaimed as lightning revealed a mini wooden bridge connecting two houses above. "Lift me up quickly."
In the blink of an eye, Kalua turned and positioned himself to lift her into the air. Years of climbing high areas in the castle made her a proficient climber, but she was far from being a professional. Luna took a few steps back to gain momentum and started running towards Kalua. However, the slippery ground betrayed her, causing her to slip just before the jump. Fortunately, Kalua adjusted to Luna's clumsy movement and lifted her just enough for her to grab onto the bridge, grunting from the extra effort he had to give to compensate for Luna's lack of fluidity. Once she climbed up, she focused on the enchantment as much as she could. Their lives depended on her success because they didn't know how many pursuers would come, and they needed all the help they could get. Moments later, three pursuers turned the corner, their laughter echoing and amplifying with the distant thunder.
"Well, well, if it isn't our favorite little wolf boy. Where's the princess, huh?" The one talking had paused and looked back at the two behind him, a smile forming on his face. "You stayed behind to protect her?" They laughed. "How cute..."
Luna refrained from hurling a string of curses at them because she was too busy focusing on the enchantment, but it was a close call. It was stronger than her.
"You're having too much fun for three dead men. You should be more careful." Kalua said.
The three of them laughed again, and this time, two drew their swords while one stayed back with a bow in hand.
"Shit." Luna thought, knowing that the enchantment wouldn't affect the archer. "We'll have to improvise." She looked at Kalua, and that reassured her a bit. She could see that they were on the same page at least.
When the two in front were just inches away from Luna, Kalua, with his sword already drawn, shouted, "Now!" and charged towards them, causing them to step back, this time in the right way. But as lightning struck nearby, they caught a glimpse of Luna above them. Unfortunately for them, it was already too late. Luna disrupted the enchantment on the bandits, freezing them in place. She celebrated internally, but deep down, she didn't know how long they would remain like that.
"Not bad, princess." Kalua said, smiling. "Leave them to me, take care of the archer."
Luna gave the archer a piercing gaze with a smile on her face.
Many battles are won even before the drawing of the swords. In this case, the archer without his companions would already be at a disadvantage, even with a long-range weapon. The rain hindered his aim, and the lack of a solid ground for his bow was also starting to affect him, now that he realized it was just him against the two and that he might have to run. But the factor that scared him the most was the gaze of the supposed helpless girl.
"Why is she smiling at me like that?" the bandit thought.
She jumped from the walkway, rolling exactly at the moment her toes touched the ground. In that same movement, she already drew her dagger, and when she raised her head, she was just over a meter away from the archer.
He was trying to draw an arrow, but his trembling fingers betrayed his lack of steadiness. Luna noticed his difficulty and acted swiftly, dodging to the right to get out of the archer's line of sight, who would soon manage to fit an arrow in his bow. In a fluid and quick motion, she spun her body, lifting her right leg in the air and extending it in a curved motion, hitting the upper part of the bow with the sole of her foot. Luna's kick made the bow fall from the unsteady hands of a frightened bandit, who now found himself without his weapon and at the mercy of the princess.
After completing the movement, as soon as Luna faced him again, she kept her right foot firmly on the ground while raising and rotating her knee and body to the right, keeping her arms close to herself to amplify the rotation. When she was facing away from the archer, she took a small leap, now supporting herself with her left foot and finishing the movement with her right foot in the chest of the unfortunate man in front of her, who fell back just over half a meter. Luna was not particularly tall or had much brute strength, but she caught the bandit off guard with her speed while executing the perfect form of the kick. It was a dangerous combination and proved to be effective.
"You wretched!" growled the archer. "I'll carve your whole face."
"To do that, you need to get up first." Luna sang.
The archer snorted while still on the ground, and when he stood up, unsheathing his knife, the fight had officially ended. There weren't enough blades in the world to stop what would come next. It was like an animal about to be devoured, and they both knew it.
Luna took two steps toward him, and before he could realize it, she had slashed his throat in a swift movement of her dagger. The archer, shocked from the entire fight and now facing his imminent death, tried to curse the girl. His body reacting slower than his mind, which had already grasped the entire situation. His voice came out muffled, as if trying to speak with water in his mouth. And before he embraced death, Luna captured his gaze, and the last thing he saw were Luna's lupine eyes and smile.
"Sorry, I couldn't understand." Luna said. "Can you repeat, please?"
She only regained awareness of the world around her when she felt the rain on her again. When she turned to Kalua to see how he fared, she found two bodies lying on the ground. She caught him staring at her, but couldn't decipher his expression.
"Let's go quickly before the others find us." Kalua said, but before he finished his sentence, a door a little further down the alley opened, and a mysterious voice came out.
"Come in, quickly." the stranger said.
Reluctant but with few options in sight, they both ran straight inside when they heard other bandits in the street behind the alley.
Entering the house, the feeling of grandmother's cozy home remained. For Kalua, it would be like a great inn, but for Luna, who had lived as royalty her whole life, even though it reminded her of good memories with her people in Rostta, the old man's house was not the coziest environment she had ever been in. Although this fact was irrelevant because more than just comfort, that house and that mysterious old man had given her a means to survive. That being said, she was surprised by the number of furniture and their quality. "Common" people didn't usually have so much furniture in their homes. Inside the house, there were two small benches with leather upholstery that seemed moderately cozy and accommodated up to two people, maybe three if they squeezed a bit. There was a fancier rocking chair, which looked almost like a king's bed, where probably only the old man sat, and it was definitely the most expensive item among the furnishings. Finally, there were two dressers filled with books next to the fireplace, made of simple wood but with excellent finishing.
Everything was organized and clean, although the exterior didn't share the same adjectives. The kitchen was connected to the living room and was clean and simple, with a fireplace area where the cauldron was placed together with a stone bench with three high stools, almost like a bar. He was certainly not as poor as the peasants further away from the commercial center. Behind him, there was also a hallway, but it was not possible to see where it led. Both entered with their weapons still in hand, pointing them at the man in front of them.
He sighed.
"A little rude to point a weapon at your benefactor, isn't it? I thought Lorcan would have taught you better, Miss Dallecielli."
"How do you know my real surname?" Luna said, gripping the dagger's handle even tighter.
The man narrowed his eyes slightly and furrowed his brow, looking her up and down.
"You must be on an adrenaline rush if you haven't connected the dots yet."
Luna then realized - her muscles were on fire from the energy her body had given her to fight. She hadn't noticed how tense she was until he commented on it. The man continued.
"Lorcan told me a lot about you. Unfortunately, for both of us, we're connected to him like a host is connected to a deadly virus."
Luna began to relax a bit, loosening her grip on the dagger.
"Judging by your appearance, some would disagree with your comment." Luna retorted. "Lorcan told me that everyone he knew is either dead or missing. You seem to be doing well, despite your age, and certainly not missing."
The old man laughed.
"Well, I'm one of the rare cases where the illness hasn't killed me yet. But it's too early to celebrate, isn't it?"
Luna gave a half-smile.
"I've put dry clothes for both of you in the bedrooms. You're soaked and making a mess of my house, leave the wet clothes drying on the clothesline at the back." he paused for a moment. "And get your damn hands off the handles of your blades before I break them."
Both suddenly took a breath after the last sentence, although Luna noticed a smirk on the old man's face.
"He's definitely a friend of Lorcan." Luna thought.
"You are my guests, change and come eat. I've finished the pork stew." the old man added.
"And how should your guests address you, sir?" Kalua asked, pretending to be pompous to irritate him.
"Tyvan is my name, boy. A great pleasure." the old man said, emotionless. "Now go, before I decide to add ungrateful youth meat to the stew recipe."
The two hurried off to the corridor.
"Damn kids." Tyvan whispered as the young ones headed towards the bedroom.
~~~~~~
Hello there, this is the first chapter of my "working in progress" medieval fantasy story and I'm in a desperately need of people who can read and give me some insights about my actions scenes, dialogues, pacing etc.
I'm not good at synopsis, but here it is: Luna, a fearless princess from one of the six kingdoms of Aevum, finds herself in the midst of a harrowing and relentless fight for survival. Accompanied by Kalua, they strive to unravel the numerous mysteries that surround their destinies, uncovering plots filled with theological intrigues, power games, and dark conspiracies in the underworld. Amidst this journey fraught with uncertainties, Luna and Kalua are driven by a desperate longing for answers that will lead them to the heart of a universe where not everything is as it seems.
​
I know it may sound cliché haha but this is only the first chapter. I also have a prologue and more chapters already ""published"" on wattpad with the same name in the title and a link for the doc of the story, if you get interested in what I'm writing. I'll be happy to answer and interact with y'all.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1l2k1oWwnjOVgy7vGghjuQCpaKdsN9t8P6EnHV59FnOg/edit?usp=sharing
Thanks for your time and I hope yoy enjoy it.

First Previous Next Ko-fi
Why is the High Imperator called the Bleached Asshole? Some say that's the name his mother gave him as babe. Others claimed it was the name born of a ritual he took part in in the early stages of his career, a ritual that ensured the asshole is bleached.
Gans the guide, musings.
As they emerged from the dungeon below, three more warrior women merged with the three already surrounding Honey Badger. Sandwiched from all sides Honey maintained the grin on his face as his chains rattled with every step. The women seemed nervous and Honey noted that the swords within their scabbards were placed at an angle, away from him. The air felt awfully humid but not as humid as Planet 17173 had been. A cool breeze seemed to find its way through the underground passageways and beat at Honey's Lethal Strapper, the garment akin to a long robe complete with shoes conjoined to the attire that serves as a weapon storage facility and a plasma shield. The chains weighed him down though to the point where lifting his head was a strain, criss crossed across his midriff with a keypad lock hanging just over his sternum, the chains served their purpose of ensuring minimal mobility and Honey had to admit there was no way he could break free of them.
The women of the Solstice army meandered their way through the passageways, ever on a sharp rising incline as they inched forward towards the Bunker's opening. Honey maintained their silence, he thought of joke about a duck but decided against it, the women seemed as nervous as Tweek always is. Ah screw it. "What time do ducks wake up?" He asked.
"Silence!" One of the women commanded. A short stuby one with hair sticking out of her scalp like bleached straw.
And so silence was indeed maintained. All through the passageways until the incline became level, Honey could read the faces of the women surrounding him by the lighting of the orbs lining the ceiling, sombre was the word to describe them.
They emerged into the warmth of a sun that seemed to be taking forever to sink into the horizon, more than twelve hours that was for sure. Women lined either side of the pathway they were on. Many sharpened their light blades using electric stones that seemed to fizzle with blue energy. Tents were set up on either side that seemed to be made of some sort of bamboo tied together with cloth and wires. Some women stood next to pots of steaming food whose smell wafted across to Honey Badger making his stomach growl. Others tied hauberks made of a range of materials from the rubber like Lethal Strappers to meshes of chain mail insulated in conductors. But the thing that captured his attention more than anything wasn't the sights but the sound. A continuous humming surrounded him, rising and falling in a crescendo that unnerved him. Honey's eyes darted around and finally came to stop at Asumpta who stood in the middle of the camp, holding a white flag.
The six women brought him short of her then saluted with a fist to their chest before taking three steps back and laying their hands on the pommels of their swords. Together, they started a low hum. It seemed like Asumpta was the only one who wasn't humming, her tall lithe form had Honey staring up at her.
"I have decided to trade you to Prince Lewis in exchange for this bridge." She motioned with her mechanical hand down hill to where a bridge lay, made of cobblestones and its flanks made of broad rising rocks. Ten people could stand shoulder to shoulder to cover the Bridge's width.
"A good bridge." Honey said.
Asumpta nodded. "Whoever controls the bridge has access to both the west and east landmass ensuring that their armies will never starve for lack of game." She shuffled her feet, seeming uncomfortable. "I've lost many sisters defending the bridge, and I was going to lose more but to trade you will ensure more bloodshed does not occur." She concluded with a raised chin.
Honey nodded. "Being a leader requires the making of tough choices, sacrificing the life of one man for the betterment of your army seems like a good call. Provided you don't even know the man in question."
"You're okay with this?" Asumpta asked.
"I'm okay with it. But can I ask of you one favor?"
"Sure."
"Don't send me to him in chains. Where I come from a chained man has no meaning, valueless in the grand scheme of things. Set my limbs free so I may stand tall. Just as the Christian God did when facing crucifixion. I need to have some dignity before my death."
Asumpta stared at Honey Badger. Taking in his short stout form and the smile plastered across his face. He showed no panic of a man nearing his end, he showed no fear of what Lewis would do to him. She considered his request and the humming of her sisters all around assured her that no harm may come to her or anyone of hers from the man standing before her. She moved forward towards him, shifted the flag from her hand to the mechanical one, with her index finger she reached out towards his sternum and pressed the code on the keypad to unlock the contraction. The chains fell off Honey Badger's body to clutter at the ground at his feet. Honey's smile broadened.
Lyan came to stand behind Asumpta, she leaned forward, her lips almost brushing Asumpta's earlobe and whispered "Prince Lewis is at the east end of the bridge." Asumpta nodded and ushered the way down hill towards the bridge with Honey following close behind and the guard of six women always three steps behind.
They maneuvered their way across camp, ever heading outward to a point where they emerged free of the tents and the women, yet the humming remained. Thousands of throats lined into a symphony of sound followed them as they made their way to the bridge.
Prince Lewis stood near the end of the bridge, dressed in Mactovian Armour, a green scale fashioned from the skin of Mactovian serpents, said to be capable of withstanding a plasma bolt with a minimum freeze delay of two seconds. Around him stood six men, the same ones who'd come to answer the call to parley a moment back and had headed back to deliver the message to their leader
Their burly forms gave off a menacing tinge that Asumpta couldn't help but notice. Yet Honey Badger walked on with a confident stride, seemingly unaware of all those ahead of him though his eyes darted to the light swords dawned on the waiting men's sides in their conscabbards.
The Prince, tall and lanky with a mop of brown hair plastered to his helm-less head and eyes an unsettling grey regarded Asumpta's entourage as they neared.
"By the Imp's tits it's him!" The Prince sounded while pointing a finger at Honey Badger. Asumpta and her warriors came to a stop three paces away from Prince Lewis yet Honey continued with a step forward, then another to come to stand before the seven men lining the width of the bridge.
"Why isn't he in chains?" Prince Lewis asked Asumpta.
"Because he is no threat to anyone." Asumpta answered.
Prince Lewis nodded. "Indeed, the spectrum net makes him look taller. Wearing a Lethal strapper I see, is it armed?" He eyed Honey Badger standing a step away from him.
"It has been emptied of all weaponry." Asumpta answered.
Prince Lewis nodded and chuckled, the men around him joined in on the laugh. "Giant Imp's marble balls on an anvil! The rest of the suitors will be mad jealous once they see who I shall be entertaining in my dungeons."
"About the bridge." Asumpta started.
Prince Lewis waved her off. "Yes yes, the bridge is yours. Do with it as you wish, we are withdrawing from this embarkment." He turned his head to Honey Badger, "Little man, it's a wonder you brought down Saya Ashkemar, but as unarmed as you are I have to admit you stir no fear within me."
Honey answered with a grin. Asumpta fell back a step to stand beside her sisters of war, she let loose a small hum that was amplified by those around her.
"Are you dumb? Can you not speak?" Prince Lewis inquired of Honey Badger.
"What time do ducks wake up in the morning?" Honey asked.
"What?" Prince Lewis asked, moving closer to Honey Badger.
"At the quack of dawn." Honey said and launched himself forward, he hit with an open palm to Prince Lewis's neck causing the man to choke as his air passage constricted. Lewis raised a hand to the neck, tongue lolling out but Honey grabbed the hand, twisted the arm and had the man turn around, pinning said arm to his back. With his other hand Honey drew Prince Lewis's light sword from its scabbard at his side, with a foot to the Prince's small of his back he kicked the Prince towards his bewildered men then followed through with a forward dive and a swipe of the light sword at the nape of the Prince's neck.
Prince Lewis's head flew free of its neck, blood arching in a wave that landed on the ground to form rivulets. The headless body took three tumbling steps forward jutting blood at the severed neck and collapsed onto one of the men who stood mouth agape.
Honey raised himself from the stance he'd put in place, one leg solidifying his weight, the other leg straightened behind him and the upper half of his body strained forward in a swiping strike. A silence engulfed the east end of the bridge and all stood jaws hanging loose, staring at Honey Badger and the beheaded head of Prince Lewis.
"Get it?" Honey asked into the silence. "At the quack of dawn!" He laughed.

Hi! I’ve had chronic tonsil stones for 3 years now after contracting some viral infection. My right tonsil is especially bad and sometimes what comes out of it isn’t stones but some white/yellow exudate. I wash my tonsils with a dental syringe 2-3 times a day but the stones form so quickly and my tonsils hurt!
After having COVID and some other mystery virus back to back about a year ago I’ve ended up with a chronic sore throat that looks inflamed and cobblestoned. These symptoms are made worse if I exercise and I get swollen tender lymph nodes in my neck. Doctors don’t know why I experience this and all my tests come back clear but my quality of life is low.
What I noticed is that when my throat looks particularly inflamed and I feel unwell I get no stones! When I get better my stones are back. Also if I spray a steroid spray into my nose to calm the inflammation my stones get out of control, it’s so weird! I have a theory that my immune system is constantly responding to the bacteria in my throat and keeping them at bay hence why my throat looks inflamed and my lymph nodes hurt. When the inflammation goes down the bacteria thrive and form stones. And it’s an endless cycle. Do you think I could benefit from having my tonsils out?
TLDR: I have chronic throat inflammation of unknown cause and a history of tonsil stones. Would I benefit from tonsillectomy?

Hey everyone! My name is Tobi and I’m a medical student in the US - recently I made a post about a survey on HPV but didn't want to stop there as it's common that researchers solely take information from communities without leaving them with resources.
If you have a sec before reading this fill out this survey that will evaluate your knowledge of HPV before getting the info I’m sharing! https://redcapsurveys.med.usc.edu/surveys/?s=APDFE77D9HLKJHWN
Ok, let's talk about Human Papillomavirus (HPV), an important topic that affects pretty much everyone who has had some sort of sexual contact. While cervical cancer is the most well-known consequence of HPV, it's crucial to recognize that HPV can also lead to other types of cancer such as oral, anal, vaginal, and throat cancer (just to name a few). In this post, we'll explore the different aspects of HPV, its transmission, prevention, and the various cancers associated with it.
What is HPV?
HPV is a common sexually transmitted infection caused by the human papillomavirus. It's primarily transmitted through skin-to-skin contact during sexual activities, including vaginal, anal, and oral sex. It's important to note that HPV can be passed between partners, regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation. It’s crazy but the majority of sexual active individuals have been exposed to HPV in their life time if they are sexually active (some estimates are around 60-80%), however actual symptoms arise in a small portion of individuals.
Types of HPV: There are numerous strains of HPV, categorized into high-risk and low-risk types. High-risk HPV strains are more likely to cause cancer, while low-risk strains are responsible for non-cancerous conditions such as genital warts. It's important to remember that HPV infections often show no visible symptoms, making regular screenings and vaccinations super vital.
Cancers Associated with HPV:

1. Cervical Cancer: Cervical cancer is the most commonly known HPV-related cancer.
   
2. Anal Cancer:
   
3. Penile and Scrotal Cancer
   
4. Vulvar and Vaginal Cancer
   

Regular cervical screenings (Pap smears) in addition to other sexual health screenings for the other areas of affected body areas are crucial for early detection. This is something most clinics can do, often for free! Here's some infromatino on here to find some resources. https://www.cde.ca.gov/ls/he/se/resources.asp
Prevention:

1. Vaccination: HPV vaccines are available and recommended for individuals between the ages of 9 and 26, regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation. If you are older than this age range, ask your doctor as discretionary use is now approved up to age 45! Vaccination can significantly reduce the risk of HPV-related cancers and other health issues. Consult with your healthcare provider to determine if vaccination is right for you.
   
2. Safe Sex Practices: Consistently practicing safe sex which can include but is not limited to the following: condoms, dental dams, and/or other barrier methods that can reduce the risk of HPV transmission. However, it's essential to note that HPV can still be transmitted through areas not covered by the barrier.
   
3. Regular Screenings: Routine screenings, such as Pap smears and anal Pap smears, are important for early detection of abnormal cell changes or precancerous conditions. Talk to your healthcare provider about the appropriate screening schedule for your situation.
   
4. Open Communication: Honest and open communication with sexual partners about HPV status, sexual history, and safer sex practices is crucial for informed decision-making and reducing the risk of transmission.
   

Remember, HPV affects individuals across the gender and sexual orientation spectrum, and it's essential to raise awareness about the various cancers associated with this infection. By prioritizing vaccination, safe sex practices, and regular screenings, we can protect ourselves and our communities from the potential health risks.

I had hpv on my cervix, but my body cleared it recently. I noticed this small lump in my mouth, it hasn’t gotten bigger but it’s been there for 2 months now. I’ve gone to 2 different dentists and they both have told me something different. One said he thinks it’s a lipoma, other says she thinks it’s a mucocele.
I’ve been having issues in my throat for the past year, feeling a lump when I swallow, ear pain, and swollen lymph nodes that haven’t gone away. I’ve been seeing an ENT for the past year, and again have had no answers.
Now that this lump popped up 2 months ago in my mouth, I’m concerned, and I’m wondering if this could mean I have HPV in my mouth, which could be helpful information for my ENT.
What do you guys think? Both dentists seem to shrug this off, but I’d like a biopsy to have some actual test results to know what this is/what’s going on.

I(29F) got diagnosed with cancerous HPV a year ago on the cervix, I had to go under surgery to get it removed.
I have, since a few month now, some discomfort on my throat every days, sore throat and co, I'm starting to get concerned, I've read that HPV can lead to throat cancer too (note that none of my doctors have ever informed me about this)
I've seen doctor for my concerns about maybe having HPV on my throat and they all tell me that there is no possibility to get tested there or that they just have no idea what to do.
So, I'm here to ask you what I can do to know if my sore throat is infected by HPV

Started having fevers on Saturday night, continued constantly for 72 hours but have since settled down but they were bad, hours of rigours and non responsive to antipyretic drugs. Other than the fevers I didn’t have any obvious symptoms until maybe 48 hours in when my throat was a tiny bit sore. I had a look and it is extremely red and swollen with pus on the tonsils and a cobblestone throat appearance. I felt dizzy and weak with lots of body aches with the fevers, since they stopped I still feel a bit dizzy and I have this awful cough headache. Every time I cough which is intermittent due to the pus in my throat it feels like my head is going to explode. I just bent over to pick something up and had the same effect. I have no stiff neck or photophobia, my sinuses feel clear, I am on holiday which makes a trip to the doctor difficult but I’ll go if it’s the same tomorrow. Any ideas in the mean time?

No idea where I’m going to go with it, but this is something I started working on this morning. Thoughts?
“The Nyctophage is coming! Run!”
Xander’s heart raced in his chest. Sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the grime and dust on his face. The sound of his pounding footsteps echoed through the narrow alley, reverberating off of the decaying buildings that surrounded him.
Xander’s mind raced with images of the monstrous Nyctophage, an amalgamation of shadow and malice, feasting on the fear and innocence of children. The stories spoke of its ability to blend seamlessly into the darkness, striking without warning and leaving no trace behind.
Xander could almost hear the distant sound of bones cracking and otherworldly hissing that sent shivers down his spine. The Nyctophage was close. Xander could hear its footsteps behind him. He had to keep moving, to outrun the monster that lurked in the shadows.
Xander’s stamina was beginning to wane, his legs growing heavy with every step. Panic threatened to consume him, but he pushed forward, driven by sheer survival instinct. The alley seemed endless, an inescapable nightmare. He was almost to the end. If he could just make it out onto the street, he could escape.
Just a few more steps!
Hands grabbed him, pulling him back into the alley.
“Got you!” Dorian laughed.
“Hells! I was so close.”
“All right, Eveline, it’s your turn to be the Nyctophage now. I caught you first.”
Eveline groaned. “I’m too slow, I’m never able to catch you guys!”
The five boys lined up at the end of the alley, Eveline a few paces behind them, readying herself. “The Nyctophage is coming!” Eveline screamed. “Run!”
And the boys ran. Four of them made it to the end, Eveline had managed to grab Lucius. She always caught Lucius. Xander was certain he was letting her catch him on purpose. He had always fancied Eveline.
“All right, I’d best get home. Ma will flay me living if I’m late for supper,” Ronan said. The group of friends said their farewells, and went their separate ways.
The streets of Crown’s Gate were bustling with activity. Stalls and carts lined the cobblestone, their owners calling out to passerby, enticing them with colorful displays of fruits, trinkets, and aromatic spices. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, intermingling with the savory aroma of roasted meats. Laughter and conversation filled the atmosphere.
As Xander moved through the city, the buildings gradually thinned, giving way to a wider thoroughfare which led to the edge of the city. The noise and commotion slowly faded, replaced by an eerie silence.
Squalortown, a desolate and forgotten district within the sprawling city. The once vibrant colors of the surrounding buildings had long faded, replaced by a uniform palette of somber shades - faded grays, crumbling browns, and patches of moss that clung to the rotting woodwork.
The air was heavy with the scent of dampness and decay. Xander navigated the treacherous terrain of Squalortown with familiarity, his steps echoing in the deserted streets. Dilapidated doorways and broken windows lined the collapsing facades, giving glimpses into the impoverished lives of those who lived there. Tattered curtains fluttered in the stale breeze, revealing glimpses of dimly lit interiors.
Occasionally, Xander would pass by a huddled figure wrapped in ragged clothing, seeking shelter in the doorways or clutching at threadbare blankets for warmth. The downtrodden residents of Squalortown moved with weary steps, their faces etched with hardship and resignation, their eyes revealing a quiet longing for a better life.
Above, the night sky was obscured by the towering structures of Crown's Gate, blocking out the stars and cloaking Squalortown in perpetual darkness. It was as if the shadows of the city had gathered in this forsaken corner, ever-present, suffocating any glimmer of hope that tried to emerge.
Xander was nearly home.
A darkness settled over Squalortown, more so than usual. Xander felt a chill in the air. He reached the door to his family’s home. He heard a whisper. At first, he took the sound for nothing more than a trick of the wind, until he realized it was a voice.
Xander.
His heart pounded in his chest, its rhythmic thumping filling his ears as panic coursed through his veins. Xander's wide eyes darted frantically, searching the deserted street for any sign of the source that had uttered his name. The oppressive silence weighed upon him, broken only by the eerie skittering of unseen vermin in the shadows.
A primal instinct screamed at him to retreat, to seek sanctuary within the safety of his home. His trembling hand reached out, fingertips grazing the worn wood of the door. But as he turned towards it, his movement stalled, frozen in terror.
A grotesque figure loomed above him, blotting out what little light remained in the desolate street. It towered at an unnatural height, nearly eight feet of emaciated horror that seemed to have crawled out from the depths of nightmares. Its form, a macabre juxtaposition of gaunt limbs and black leather-like skin, almost completely blended with the encroaching darkness.
Xander's breath hitched, caught in his constricted throat, as he beheld the creature's terrifying countenance. Its face was a twisted canvas, a monstrous distortion that defied comprehension. Eyes, void of any humanity or compassion, glimmered with an otherworldly malevolence. Its mouth, a grotesque maw, stretched impossibly wide, revealing jagged fangs gleaming with a sickly luminescence.
A paralyzing terror seized Xander, stealing his voice and leaving him frozen in the creature's presence. Every instinct within him told him to scream, to fight, to flee. But he was rendered helpless, trapped within the clutches of an otherworldly force.
As if responding to the very essence of his fear, inky tendrils of darkness snaked forth from the creature's form, enveloping Xander in their chilling grasp. They coiled around him, binding his limbs and constricting his movements. His body was lifted off the ground, drawing him closer to the creature's nightmarish visage.
His eyes locked with the abyssal depths of the creature's gaze, a terrible realization settling upon him. He was utterly at its mercy, a puppet ensnared in a twisted dance of despair. The weight of its presence pressed down upon him, suffocating and all-consuming.
He was drawn closer, and pulled into absolute darkness.

“The 12-Step Cuckold Program,” Part 5
by c.w. cobblestone
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Bob shifted from foot to foot as he tugged at the seat of his pants.
“Sorry, guys, Deb had me coat my butt-plug with Ben Gay today because I forgot to record a show she wanted to watch. So, bear with me — I’m a little tender.” Bob forced a smile. “Although it looks like I’m not the only one being punished. I see the no-furniture rule is still in place, Monte. I can try to find a pillow or something if that floor’s too hard.”
“No, thanks, I’m good,” Monte replied.
Bob nodded. “And, Lew, why are you wearing underwear on your head, my friend? What happened?”
The skinny cuck turned red beneath the blue drawers. “Uh, Caitlyn had a guy over last night, and instead of sending me to the car like she usually does, she told me to stay and hand-wash four huge bags of laundry this asshole had in his truck. She wanted it all done by the time they were done in the bedroom, but there was a ton of it, and there was no way I could get it all by hand. So, she yelled at me and slapped me around, you know, showing off for this guy — and then she took a pair of his dirty underwear and put it on my head. She said I have to keep ‘em on until Friday.”
Chester winced. “Ugh, sorry, bro. That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah, it’s a fucking nightmare, man. People keep laughing at me.”
Chisain shrugged. “Well, look on the bright side. At least it’s kind of like a mask, so it hides your identity.”
Lew threw up his hands. “I have to go to fucking work like this, man! Everyone knows who I am!”
“Oh … sorry,” Chisain said.
“Dude, they let you work with drawers on your head?” Carlton furrowed his brow. “Where the hell do you work?”
“I’m an engineer. They put me in an office by myself.”
Bob pulled at his pants-seat and squirmed. “What reason did you give your boss for wearing underwear on your head?”
“Oh, everyone at work knows I’m Caitlyn’s slave. She made that obvious at the first office holiday party we went to years ago right after we got married.” Lew peered out through the underwear’s leg-holes. “My boss fucked her that night, and a whole bunch of times after that. Half the office has fucked her.”
“Wow, that’s a great situation, you’re in.” Bob smiled.
“Huh?” Carlton raised his eyebrows. “How the hell is that a great situation? Sounds pretty fucked up if you ask me.”
“No, it’s actually perfect,” Bob said. “Once again, you’re thinking of this the wrong way, young Foo-Foo. You see, it’s not always possible for us to be ‘out’ because of our jobs or other reasons, but that’s what we should all be striving for. It’s best if we can maintain a true 24/7 lifestyle that includes being a public slave. It makes navigating everyday life a lot easier. Lew’s situation is a good example, where his boss understands that sometimes his mistress is going to impose embarrassing punishments.”
“Embarrassing is right,” Lew muttered from beneath the dingy underwear. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”
“Has anyone else been outed like Lew, where the whole world knows you’re a cuckold?” Bob asked. Marco was the only group member not to raise his hand.
Bob addressed the lone wolf. “So, why is your cuckold status kept a secret, Marco?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s a secret, exactly. All Carmen’s friends know. But she likes to keep it on the down-low when it comes to work, because she doesn’t want to jeopardize my income, since she says that’s the only thing I’m really good for. I’m in sales and that’s all about image. She’s afraid I’d get fired if I get caught doing something too crazy, so, luckily I don’t have to do embarrassing things out in public like wearing some guy’s underwear on my head.”
Carlton chuckled. “Yeah, Lew, no offense, dude, but you look pretty fucking ridiculous.”
“Who you calling ridiculous, Foo-Foo?” Lew frowned through the leg-holes. “At least I’m not a little sissy in a flouncy dress.”
Isabella glowered at Lew. “And what’s wrong with being a sissy in a flouncy dress?”
Carlton jumped to his feet, making his ruffles bounce. “Yeah, motherfucker, keep running your mouth and I’ll rip them underwear off your head and shove ‘em up your ass.”
Chisain scoffed. “Boy, Foo-Foo, for a little sissy, you sure do want to fight all the time.”
“FUCK YOU, SHIT-STAIN, I’LL KICK YOUR ASS, TOO!” Carlton balled his fists.
“Dang, and I thought I was the one cranky from all those caffeine pills.” Chisain held up his hands. “Chill, dude. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.”
Bob nodded. “Shit-Stain’s right, Foo-Foo. You can’t keep threatening to kick people’s ass every time you have a disagreement. Now, you’re a welcome member of this group, and we want you to keep attending these meetings and hopefully continue your growth, because you’ve come so far already … but you’ve got to watch that temper of yours. Okay?”
Carleton sat back down. “Sorry … I’ve been kind of cranky lately. I had a bit of a remission, and I’ve been in a bad mood ever since.”
“Remission?” Chester cocked his head. “What kind of remission?”
“Well, I had been doing good … you, know, with the peeing thing. Every time Terrance called me to the tub I was able to remind myself that I was a little sissy who deserved to be pissed on … and, you know, that his pee was like sacred wine, since his dick goes inside Angie’s pussy, and her pussy is sacred. I dunno, it was a little game I’d play in my head in order to cope with it, you know?”
“That’s exactly what we should be doing — playing those kind of mind games with ourselves is key to finding our Cuckold Salvation. It seems like a sound strategy to think of your master’s pee as sacred because it comes from the dick that goes inside your wife’s sacred vagina.” Bob’s lips formed a straight line. “But you fell off the wagon, eh?”
“Yeah.” Carlton sighed. “I’d gone four straight days without crying. Not once. Every time Terrance pissed on me, I’d shrug, tell myself that I deserved it and go change clothes. But then … I don’t know, the other night I was kind of feeling good about myself, because Angie had loved this cake I’d made for dessert — she even said thank-you! — and she was nice to me the whole night, you know? But then after I went to sleep, I started dreaming that it was raining … and, sure enough, it was Terrance pissing on my head. And, maybe it caught me off guard because I’d been sleeping, but I just couldn’t. You know? I tried telling myself that I deserved it … that it was his sacred wine … but it didn’t taste like wine, man — it tasted like piss. Ugh, all over my face … my pillow and sheets. So, I laid there in my wet bed crying all night. It’s like I was letting it all out because I hadn’t cried the other times. All of that was bottled up inside. I don’t know, it just fucked me up and I haven’t been right ever since.”
“Bro, I’m sorry to hear that.” Chester patted Carlton’s ruffled shoulder. “Hang in there.”
Bob scoffed. “I hate to be a party-pooper, Foo-Foo but I’m not gonna coddle you — I’m gonna tell you exactly where you went wrong.”
“Wrong? What do you mean?”
“Well, you said you were feeling good about yourself. Your mistress loved the cake you made and she even said thank-you, and was nice to you that night. So, you were feeling good about yourself. Do you see the problem, Foo-Foo?”
Carlton hung his head. “Yeah. I shouldn’t feel good about myself.”
“Exactly. Why should you? You’re a little sissy faggot whose wife is fucking another man. That’s nothing to feel good about, Foo-Foo. So, she liked your goddamn cake, and felt like being nice to her sissy for one night. You think that makes you special or something? Well, I hate to break it to you, Foo-Foo, but you’re not special — you’re a little sissy faggot who gets pissed on 10 times a day by the man who stole your wife. And you put up with it because you’re too much of a wimp to stop it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself — and proud to be a little sissy faggot all at the same time. Remember one of the mantras in the book: ‘I’m proud to be a lowdown piece of shit, which means I’ve got nothing to be proud of.’ Why don’t we all repeat that one?”
Each group member droned: “I’m proud to be a lowdown piece of shit, which means I’ve got nothing to be proud of.”
“There you go. Don’t start feeling all proud of yourself if something nice happens to you. You can see the danger right there — what do I say in the book? ‘The higher we fly …’”
“‘… the harder we fall,’” the men finished the quotation from “Rules for Cuckolds.”
“Foo-Foo, you’re an ugly little worm,” Bob explained. “It’s what you are. Stay where you belong. Things go awry when you try to be something you’re not, and start feeling good about yourself.”
“I … I know, I’m sorry. This is all new to me.”
“Well, it’s not new to me,” Lew muttered from beneath the underwear covering his face. “I don’t feel good about myself. I know I’m a lowdown, scrawny piece of shit. I’ve known that my whole life. And it still fucking sucks. You guys ever get tired of this shit all the goddamn time? You ever think of … you know … um, divorce?”
There was a collective gasp.
“The D-Word????” Isabella jumped to his high-heeled feet. “Dude, are you out of your fucking mind?! A divorce?! Darlene’s the love of my life, man. I can’t even think about divorcing her.”
“Yeah, my stomach hurts whenever I think about Angie not being around,” Carlton said. “That’s the whole reason I’m putting up with all this bullshit in the first place — to stay married to her and NOT get a divorce.”
“That’s why all of us put up with it, bro,” Monte added from his spot on the floor. “You think I enjoy my life? Not cumming for eight fucking years? Never getting any sleep because another man’s babies keep me up crying? Changing shitty diapers while the parents lay around watching TV — and then getting yelled at or smacked for not doing it fast enough? Starvation diets? No sitting on furniture for a goddamn month because I took one break and the little prick had to wait a few minutes for a juice refill? Getting cornholed by your master’s gay brother whenever he’s feeling romantic? You think I like any of that shit? It fucking sucks, bro. But we put up with it because we love our wives. We’re devoted. We made a promise to love, honor and cherish them — no matter what. Well, the hard stuff we go through? That’s the ‘no matter what’ part. Nobody said this would be easy.”
“No, it’s not easy,” Bob agreed. “It keeps coming back to accepting who we are. We get into trouble and start having reckless thoughts about divorce whenever we start thinking we deserve better. Well, guess what, guys? We don’t deserve better. Lew, you’ve been Caitlyn’s slave since you were a little kid. You were born to be her slave. Now, you’re getting delusions of grandeur, and think you’re too good to wear her boyfriend’s underwear on your head? Are we getting hoity-toity now?”
“Uh, I … I know, Bob. I’m a scrawny piece of shit who deserves it.”
Bob nodded. “See? That’s the spirit, Lew. We’re all losers who deserve what we get. The sooner we all accept that, the better it’s going to be. If I sound like a broken record … well, sometimes you just have to drive the message home, again and again. You’re all dirty, rotten, lowdown, pathetic pieces of shit — so stop feeling good about yourselves. Okay?”
While the group nodded, Bob adjusted the back of his pants and consulted his notebook. “Alright, then, last week we were talking about the rules we live by and how we’re going to start acknowledging these rules in a different way. We’ve heard from Monte and Lew already, and Chester was going to go next. Chester? Is there a particular rule that bothers you?”
“Well, I mean, my life would be a lot easier if I was allowed to say ‘no’ to Junior and Jaydon, but Amy and Jamal say that word should never leave my mouth when one of their kids wants something.”
“OMG, that was the rule I was gonna use, too,” Isabella interjected. “I have to do whatever Aaliyah and Alecia tell me to do, no matter what. If they tell me to jump off the roof, I can beg them to not make me do that, or if worst comes to worst I can double-check with their parents, and THEY can say no. But I’m not allowed to. OMG, if Darlene or DeAndre ever heard me telling their daughters no to something …”
“I know!” Chester shuddered. “And it’s so ridiculous, because sometimes you have to tell a kid no. My master gave me 50 with the cane because Jamal Jr. kept trying to stick his fork into the electric outlet, and I told him he’d get hurt if he did that. Master said my tone was too forceful. WTF.”
“And the spoiled little bastards know we can’t say no to them, either,” Monte added. “Tommy’s 8 and Erin’s 7, and they’re at that age where they’re turning into little smartasses and I have to beg to get them to do anything. And they’re so demanding! The other day, Erin wanted ice cream right before dinner, and I tried to tell her that was against her mom’s rule but she just pointed toward the kitchen with that look on her face she inherited from Jan. So, what else could I do? I went and got the little princess a bowl of ice cream — and, sure enough, Janet comes walking in right when she’s sitting there eating it. And who gets bitched out? Me. Erin’s sitting behind her mom poking her tongue out at me while I had to endure Jan’s lecture about not feeding the kids before dinner. Thank goodness she didn’t tell Tom.”
Bob cleared his throat. “Well, guys, I hate to be mean, but as your facilitator, it’s my job to tell you all that you’re all full of shit. You can tell those little pricks no any time you want to. Chester, how old are your masters’ kids?”
“Jamal Jr. is 3 and Jaydon’s 2.”
Bob nodded. “Monte?”
“Um, little Tommy’s, 8, Erin’s 7, Jimmy’s 3; and the twins are six months old.”
“And Isabella?”
“Aaliyah’s 6 and Alecia’s 3.”
“I see.” Bob peered at each cuck. “And, Monte, even though you’re a scrawny little faggot who looks like you couldn’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag, I assume even a wuss like you can kick an 8-year-old kid’s ass?”
“Well … yeah, probably.”
“And, Isabella, even though you’re a girly little sissy, you could physically restrain a 6-year-old girl, correct?”
“Um … sure.”
“And how about you, Chester?” Bob scoffed. “I mean, with those love-handles and man-boobs, so I wouldn’t exactly expect you to be an MMA champion — but even your roly-poly, out-of-shape ass could take 3- and 2-year-old kids, even if they ganged up on you. Right?”
“Well, yeah — but then Jamal would, like, literally kill me.”
“But that’s not the point. You’re saying you can’t say no to your master’s kids. Is that literally true?”
“Well, no, Bob, I guess I could say no to them. And you could technically walk up to a cop and punch him in the nose if you want — if you want to go to jail! And, sure, I can tell the little bastards no some time — and their dad would beat the fuck out of me, to where I couldn’t walk for a month.”
“Listen, Chester, Isabella, all of you — none of you HAS to do any of this. You’re free to leave whenever you want, and you wouldn’t have to put up with your masters or their little prick kids ever again. You choose to stay. So, the rule isn’t that you’re not allowed to say no to these kids — the rule is, you want to raise them the way your masters prefer, and so you choose to tough it out and do the job. It’s all about service to your masters, not what makes life easier for you.”
Chester huffed. “Yeah, well, YOU try having a 3-year-old kid spit his food in your face, like, every single meal. And Jamal and Amy just sit there and crack up. They encourage it! So, he does it, and so does Jaydon. I’m talking just about every meal.”
“Or how about having the little pricks lie on you, just so they can laugh at you when you get in trouble?” Monte shook his head. “Last week, I was put on two days’ starvation because Erin thought it would be funny to tell her mom I broke a vase. The little bitch told Tommy ‘watch this’ and then purposely knocked the vase on the floor. When Jan asked what happened, the little brat told her ma I’d been in a bad mood and had been ‘slamming stuff around.’ Janet says ‘let’s see if two days of starvation puts you in a better mood,’ and you should’ve seen the looks on that evil little bitch’s face. After Jan left the room she and Tommy cracked up, and for the next two days they kept rubbing it in whenever they’d eat. ‘Mmmm, this hamburger sure does taste good!’ I mean, they’re rotten little monsters, man.”
“And you choose to put up with it,” Bob said. “Yes, they’re mean to you. Why wouldn’t they be? Generally speaking, kids don’t respect gap-toothed, ugly pieces of shit who have no authority over them. They see how your masters treat you and they treat you the same way: like the pathetic loser you are. But that doesn’t change the fact that you choose to stay. All of you do. So, for Chester and Isabella, the new rule is: You can say no to your masters’ little pricks anytime you want to — you just choose to raise the kids in the way your masters want. Does that make it easier to think of it that way?”
“I guess.” Chester shrugged. “I mean, the kids are gonna be little pricks no matter which way I look at it, so I might as well try to think of it the right way.”
“Me too,” Isabella said. “Aaliyah takes after her dad, so I know I’m in for it when she gets a little older. Alecia’s a little more mellow like her mom, but she’ll do whatever Aaliyah does.”
Bob nodded. “But you choose to put up with it, correct?”
“Yep. That’s the new rule, Bob.”
“Great.” Bob smiled at Chisain. “Your turn. I’m gonna guess what your most-hated rule is.”
“Being called ‘Shit-Stain?’ Yeah.” Chisain scoffed. “I know, I know. I could go down to the Registrar’s Office and change my name anytime I want to … I could be something normal like Robert, or Bob or Monte or Steve. Instead, I choose to keep this name because I’m an ugly piece of shit, and a shit-stain on the underwear of humanity.”
“Now, you’re talking!” Bob grinned. “It’s so wonderful to see each one of you growing like this, and learning to accept your inferiority. I feel like we’re really getting somewhere with these sessions. How about you, Marco? What’s the one rule that bothers you?”
“Well, it’s not really a rule … but … well, I hate to keep harping on the same thing, man, but I sure wish Terrance would stop pissing on me all the time. I don’t understand it. He does it constantly. I mean, I can understand maybe when he first moved in and took over the household … how it must feel pretty empowering to piss all over a little fag like me. But you’d think after a while it would wear off. I know I’m a piece of shit who deserves it — but WTF, I can’t help it. I’m fucking tired of getting pissed on all the time. Like, 5-6 times a fucking day, man.”
“Now, we’ve been through this, Foo-Foo. Your master’s piss—”
“—is like sacred wine, yeah, yeah, I get it, I know. I choose to stay, so the rule isn’t that I HAVE to get pissed on constantly; it’s that I WANT to get pissed on because that’s what makes my master happy.”
“Exactly,” Bob said.
Marco hunched forward in his chair. “What’s your wife do when he’s pissing on you, bro?”
“Oh, she thinks it’s gross, so she stays away, thank goodness,” Foo-Foo said. “I’m glad she doesn’t watch, but it’s fucked up because she blames ME for it. She’ll crinkle up her nose at me and say, ‘you’re so fucking disgusting.’ As if it’s somehow MY fault!”
“But it IS your fault, Foo-Foo.” Bob clicked his pen. “Everything is your fault, remember?”
“Yeah, sorry, I forgot.”
“Okay.” Bob nodded at Marco. “Your turn. What rule bothers you the most?”
“Well, I’d like to have sex with my wife at least once.” Marco made a face. “Carmen says I have to stay a virgin. She says my dick is too small to ever go inside a woman.”
“But at least you’re not caged,” Monte said. “That’s something to be thankful for.”
Marco shrugged. “It’s not because Carmen is nice, that’s for goddamn sure — she just doesn’t care enough to put me in a cage. As long as I keep bringing in the money and stay out of her way, she hardly notices me. It’s like I’m literally an ATM machine. There are whole weeks that’ll go by without her saying a word to me the few times when she’s home. I keep the house clean and make sure her car is gassed up, so there’s really no reason for her to ever talk to me unless she wants something specific. I’ve found myself not doing things on purpose or doing them wrong to get her to yell at me — so at least I could have some interaction with my wife.”
“Dude, that’s sad,” Monte said.
“Yeah.” Marco sighed. “But I deserve it. My wife wants nothing to do with my tiny little dick.”
“You make good money, correct?” Bob asked.
“Oh, yeah, close to $300,000 a year.”
Bob smiled. “Well, then, you could fly to Vegas and pick up a legal prostitute any time you wanted, correct?”
“Well, sure, but—”
“But nothing, Marco. You’re a virgin not because of your wife’s rule. You’re a virgin because of YOUR rule: You want to stay a virgin to make your wife happy. True or false?”
“Well … true.”
“See? Now, don’t you feel like a pathetic piece of shit? What kind of man chooses to stay in a sexless marriage and remain a virgin while his wife openly fucks other men? Tell me, Marco — what kind of man puts up with that?”
“Um … a pathetic piece of shit?”
“YES!!!” Bob clapped. “I am SO excited at the growth we’re seeing here. This is very inspiring. I think we’re experiencing what I call in the book a—”
But before Bob could sneak in yet another plug for his book, the voice from upstairs roared: “GAME’S OVER!! LET’S GO, QUEER!!”
Bob pulled at the back of his pants. “Gotta run, guys — I don’t want more Ben Gay! Hope to see you all next week!”
The group leader waddled gingerly up the stairs to a chorus of good-byes from the gaggle of cucks who felt better about themselves after having acknowledged that they were all pieces of shit who had no reason whatsoever to feel good about themselves.

Chapter 4: A Whisper in the Dark
Amara
Imagine darkness.
An inexorable void stretching beyond a simple four-walled cellar at the foot of a cottage, shadowy tendrils flexing their feelers around the corners of the room and into the mind of the child that lay on the damp, piss-stained mattress at its center. A foreign object. Born of light.
This child’s name was Amara.
Amara’s eyes wake to the cold, unfeeling roof of the cellar again and her small form, quivering with the chill in the air, feels the ropes tied round her body, the blood rushing to her head as she comes to the unimaginative realization that, yes, once again her dreams have betrayed her. She is here on the mattress again, her legs shaking as she struggles with futile, childish effort against her shackles. She can still feel the heat radiating from between her legs at the spot where he puts himself, thrusting into her and grunting with every movement of his slimy fat hips.
Amara remembers the first time daddy led her down here. She had just turned eight, and he had bought her a new pristine red dress – the kind of crimson all the girls in the marketplace loved at the time. She’d paraded it in front of her friends, even the boys, showing off her chestnut ponytails trailing down her shoulders to rest on the carmine sea of the fabric. She told daddy it was the most wonderful gift ever.
He had smiled and told her there was something he wanted her to do tonight. She said, of course! How could she refuse?
Her mind wandered back, for now memory was her only real companion. That, and the voice.
The voice told her to remember, sometimes.
He had opened the door to the cellar and told her to go down. He wanted to show her mama’s old dresses down there, where he kept them. She had ambled down the dark passage, keeping steady on the skittering wooden steps, and paid no mind to the door when it had closed behind daddy.
She’d been too excited to hear him bolt the lock.
At the bottom she’d looked around in confusion and saw the mattress and the ropes.
And at that moment, she looked upon her new world.
Because daddy pushed her down and held her by her throat, he told her to be a good girl or she’d die. He tied the ropes round her arms and her legs, and they cut into the skin at her joints. He tied them tight. Once, twice, three times. She struggled, and he smacked her face. Then he showed her the knife – its edge rusty and gleaming in the dark. She tried begging him to stop. She cried out, screaming that she was sorry. She was sorry for whatever she did. She’d be a good girl, honest. But he didn’t listen. The knife came down, and he cut her dress open, and then his fingers went down there. She felt it. She could still feel it even when he wasn’t there.
Pain.
If she was bad – if she didn’t open her legs – she got the belt. She went without food. The first time was full of panic and shock and rage that had mixed together and blurred the world. Blood congealed on the floor under her legs as he did the thing that he wanted to do with her, cupping his hand over her mouth, letting the tears stream from her eyes and telling her that this is what daddies did to bad girls – girls that paraded round and teased the boys. He had to teach her respect. He would teach her how to be his good girl.
After the first time, she had tried to be obedient. She had opened her legs every time he came. But daddy didn’t stop. He kept coming back, grabbing her throat, pushing himself down on her and grunting like a pig. So then she started fighting back. And that was why he was keeping her here, now. She had not seen sunlight stream through the sky for months. She was bad, and she needed the lesson.
Her meals were the slop he poured down her throat that he said would make her more obedient. After a while – maybe days, weeks, or months, starvation would have been a mercy. She no longer paid any mind to the grumbling in her stomach, or thoughts that maybe someone would come and help. Nobody cared that she was gone. She was a bad girl. She was a dirty girl. She would feel this pain for the rest of her life.
Then, one day, she heard it.
It had happened the fifth week she was down here, waiting for daddy to come in what must have been the nighttime. She had been listening to the dark, and then she had heard it. She’d heard the voice for the first time.
Concentrate, it had said.
And there was a little bit of her brain that obeyed, having no alternative. Like it was destiny.
She lay there on the mattress, bound by the ropes, and concentrated.
Breathe, the voice said.
She breathed. Deep and full. And she smelled something new coming from somewhere close by. It was like smoke, but tasty. Like a freshly grilled chicken wing or a piece of pork being spit fried on a hearth.
Except that the smell was coming from inside her.
Reach out, the voice said, hissing in her eardrums like a snake coiled round her in the dark. Flick.
She didn’t know how, but she knew what the voice meant. She extended her fingers once, twice, and then continuously till she felt the smell begin to emanate from the tips of her flea-bitten nails.
She looked down and her eyes went wide. Smoke was sailing out from her fingertips.
Good, the voice said, and it said it in a way that Amalia knew it was pleased. Good girl.
Since that night, she’d practiced whenever she woke up in the dark, her mind ringing and body still aching from daddy’s visits. She’d breathed, extended, and flicked just like the voice had said. And every day she did so she felt the sense that something was cruising through her body that had always been there but had never been able to move. It had been blocked – there had been big walls in its way stopping it from traveling through her to all the right places. Within her there was a river of smoke that had to reach the ocean. The voice was the lathe that had opened to let it through.
She started to learn how she could let out a little more. One time a rat had come by to nibble on her unkept, grease-streaked hair and the voice had murmured, Go on, try it, and she’d flicked her right hand in its direction and a little spark had danced through the air off the nail of her forefinger and singed the rodent’s tail clean through. It scurried off back into the dark from whence it had come.
The voice had chuckled. Oh, you’re a strong one.
She looked at her hand and she knew something, then. There was more of that in her. That was nothing. That was just the tip of the power that was coursing through her restrained body. She couldn’t move right now, but inside her things were moving alright. Things were shaking up like they never had before.
Each day for the past month she had felt that same power rise within her as daddy slapped his wet, stiff thing inside her. Something inside her pushed back, and she clenched her hands tight, bloodying her palms as her nails dug into the soft flesh there. Because the voice was telling her that she needed more time. She needed to wait.
But it was hearing her pleas. It was liking where her mind was at. Every night, she would ask it, when? And every night it would say, Soon, kid. Soon.
Then came tonight.
Amalia had been practicing all day. She’d gotten to the point where she barely had to flick at all, now. Sometimes tiny embers would run across her hand like giggling children playing tag in the alleys of the town above. She’d watch them jump into each other’s arms and grow into a bigger flame, each one adding itself to the bonfire that burned just above her shaking palm. The light of the flame filled her eyes, and then the voice told her from inside, Baby, you got this.
So, when she heard all the locks come undone, and the door creaked open tonight, she opened her eyes and breathed. Deep. She smelled the growing conflagration that was building within. Bubbling through her blood and running clear in her veins.
Daddy had been drinking. She could smell it. The ember within reacted to that, too. Attracted by the liquid that would take it in. Her heart was racing, out of fear, and out of excitement.
Daddy mounted her, put himself in her, and bit her ear – saying she was a miserable little creature. She was a bad girl for making him do this to her. Didn’t she know he was doing this because he loved her? If she was gonna be a bad girl, then he was going to have to put a new child in her one day. He’d make a better daughter. Then he’d have his good girl. Or if she was bad too, he’d do the same to her.
While his saliva trailed down her neck, and his grunts started getting more forceful, she tensed up her insides and extended her fingers from beneath his sweaty body.
Now? She asked. She had to be sure.
Now, Honey, the voice said, clear and crystalline in her mind even through daddy’s whimpers and shouts. Cup the flame in your hand.
She breathed again, allowing the anger and fear and thrill and terror of the moment fill her nostrils and travel down through her body till it reached the tips of her fingers.
Sparks began to jump from her nails. Little smoke trails spiraled up passed her daddy’s side.
He took her head in his hands. He thrust deeper, gritting his teeth, grunting like a pig. He didn’t notice a thing.
Put your hand on his leg, the voice said, and all at once the charge in her mind and the room came to a crashing climax as she obeyed, gripping her daddy’s thigh as hard as she could.
Flick.
The smell of crisping flesh assailed her nostrils. Daddy’s eyes bulged and his mouth fell open in a scream that she couldn’t believe came from his lungs. She squeezed more as he tried to roll away from her, pieces of the melting spot on his leg coming away as he kicked out, squealing maniacally, clutching the exposed muscle gyrating where his skin was blistered and dripping.
Her hands clenched the ends of the ropes around her quickly. Everything had to be quick now. Daddy’s screams filled the air. Screams that had once been hers – back in the days when she would still scream down here, begging for help. Wailing at him that she was good. She didn’t hear the words that yelped from his lips, instead she focused on flicking each length of rope till finally the embers trickled down the binds and they came away.
She started, almost tumbling back to the ground as she attempted to centre herself. Her legs wouldn’t work. She tried crawling towards the stairs. She dug her nails into the ground and clawed forward. He hadn’t locked the door behind him. There was light up there.
Suddenly she felt his gnarled hand grab her right leg and pull her back, her naked breasts catching on brickwork and tearing her skin. She let out a yelp – tiny, like a stuttering rat’s – as he turned her round and beat her across the face with his hand, pieces of the flesh from his leg still stuck there. His face was rabid, foam dribbling from his matted beard, growling like a feral ghoul. He was thinking that he’d fucked up. He’d left some matches down here and she’d got him. But he’d teach her. The little bitch. He’d teach her now good and proper.
Another smack to her face and she tasted blood in her mouth. Her legs scrambled on the floor under him, skinned knees smacking into his backside while he started cackling, and cupped his hand round her mouth. He positioned himself on top of her and bore down on her hard. His hand clenched round her throat.
She knew. She knew as she looked into his eyes. This time he was going to kill her.
His disheveled face began to fade from her sight. Everything did. But even as her head began to die, still the fire within her did not stutter. It was red-hot. Searing. It was ready.
C’mon honey! the voice bellowed inside her. You can do this.
She summoned her feeble strength and both her hands clamped down on the sides of his face. It took only a second – just a fraction of an instant. She felt the flames travel up her arm. She felt her fingers bulge and twist as the torrent of energy swept through them. Then she pressed down, hard.
GLANCE channel: Firebite (Unleveled)
Fire damage 10pts/Sec (Touch)
She looked at his face as it changed. The sizzling sound dominated the air again and a blanket of smoke filled his head, spewing from her hands. Then fire – a real, burning, yellow flower wreathed in billowing crimson flowed from the palms of her hands over his eyes, his nose, inside his mouth. His scream was that of a creature surprised by its prey, both feeling the most intense pain and reeling from the corruption of the natural order it believed in. The scream wouldn’t stop. She didn’t want it to. He tried gripping her arms with his shaking hands. He bit into the finger closest to his mouth but to no avail. He was growing weak. All he could do was scream as his flesh crisped and he smelled the rotting, oozing aroma of his head being baked, his brain sizzling inside his burning skull. She kept her hands there. She kept her fingers digging into his cranium and let the flame consume him, traveling through his nostrils and gripping his insides like a sinuous red vice. The whites of his eyes dripped down on her face, first dangling out his sockets and then falling completely – just a mess of goo and crisp tendon. She ignored them. She looked at his face as it transformed under her hands. The fat, blushed rouge of his cheeks changed to the colour of charcoal, and the skeleton that was beneath the skin began to expose itself. The bones rotted. They changed from grey-white to charcoal black in seconds as the flames licked them and stole their colour. His hands fell from her throat, limp and useless, and only then did he slump down on top of her, nearly suffocating her with his weight.
She pushed him back, rolled him over onto his side. She stayed there for a while, bleeding from lacerations on her torso, but basking in the cold air coming from above. His still smoking head was looking at her. But there was no life left in the dead, empty sockets of his blackened skull. The whole thing had been over in about a minute.
How d’you feel, honey?
She didn’t answer the voice. She stared at the eyeless, smoke-filled sockets of her father, the look of terror and anguish still painted on his charred features.
You did good. Now, you have to get up.
She knew that. She knew that outside light was streaming through the windows waiting for her. There was a world out there.
She started rising carefully, still never taking her eyes off daddy’s burned body. The pulsing, blood-pounding excitement of the kill had dissipated in her mind. Now, more base instincts took over. The need for food. The desire for warmth. Curiosity.
It was that final thought that led her to stretch her shaking, scarred legs and stand like a newborn calf, skittering around without a sense of balance and with no mother to steady it. Nothing except the voice that echoed faintly in her head.
Take your time, it whispered. One foot, then the other.
She listened, only managing to turn away from her father’s expired form with great effort. He was dead. She had killed him. She had killed her father. The thought began to boom like a siren’s wail in her mind as he shakily ascended towards the light heralded by the slightly open door at the basement’s peak. She’d killed him with her own hands. She’d watched him burn.
Her daddy, who had once smiled and called her his princess. He’d wanted her to be good. He’d tried to train her to be obedient. Wasn’t that what daddies were supposed to do? Punish their little girls when they stepped out of line?
She paused on the steps. Maybe she should go back. Maybe she belonged down here.
Sweetheart, the voice echoed, soothing like honey running through her ears and wrapping her brain in golden, silky threads. Don’t be scared. You don’t have to be scared, anymore.
How could she not be scared? Her bulging eyes asked the question that her mouth moved to try and form. She didn’t know what was out there. She didn’t know what she had just done.
But you know how it felt.
Amalia’s arms fell to her sides, and she felt the urge to vomit rise in her gullet. Because she did know how it felt. She had never felt anything like it in her life.
Take that feeling, baby, the voice whispered. Take it and go.
She steadily began to move again, letting small droplets of stomach acid dribble from her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she had thrown up or not. She did not understand the heaving and retching that was happening down in her stomach. The only thing she heard was the voice telling her to go on. She could make it.
At the top of the stairs she pushed open the door and collapsed onto the stone floor of the kitchen.
It was warm.
A fire was burning in the hearth. Full and bright.
There was some roast chicken spread on the table. A meal for one, but with enough left over for a whole household of servants, and once she’d flung herself at the table and torn ravenously into the food she ransacked the larder for milk and eggs. She gobbled them down without stopping, and then with a retching cough she truly did vomit across the kitchen table, covering the remaining leftovers in the sticky residue of her rotted insides.
Go to the front room, baby, the voice said to her as she wiped her mouth on her pallid arm. There’s something you need to see.
She obeyed, rising slowly on skittish legs, and shambled through the kitchen towards the foyer. She felt the power of the fire in the hearth wash over her like the purest wind – but it was weak. It was nothing compared to what she had felt down there emanate from her tiny fingers.
The walls around her blurred in her vision. Her world began to shrink until she saw only a tunnel – darkness creeping into the sides of her eyes – that led towards the wooden door of the house with its gilded handle. This house – her house – it felt alien. Unreal. She could smell daddy’s scent on the chair she threw out of her way. She wanted to take it within her grasp and watch it shrink beneath the broiling flames that were running through her blood. Her hand shook as it touched the handle of the door. She knew his fingers had been there before. She felt them streaking along her thighs again.
As the thought melted through her mind, she felt vomit rise into her throat again. She was a monster. She had let something out of her that should never have seen the light of day.
Baby, the voice whispered like a caring guardian stroking her mangled hair. Open the door.
She did as she was bid.
She nudged the door open and felt the chill winds of the outside buffet her naked body. She held up a hand to shield herself from the blazing ball of fire that hung in the sky and lighted on her immediately – obliterating everything from her sight while it bathed her in its radiance. Eventually her vision – though clouded by tears – resolved into vaguely familiar settings: a cobblestone path, rolling hills, a gateway set between two stony ridges that led to the village in the distance. Smoking chimneys signaled burning embers within each decrepit hovel. The voices of singing children and merchants plying their trade in the marketplace filled her ears. This picture – this audio-visual assault on her senses – finally brought her to her knees, clutching her heaving chest.
Then her mind flew back to the hollowed-out skull of her daddy, down there, beneath her feet.
There’s a whole world out there for you now, honey, the voice said.
‘W-who are you?’ she asked. The sound of her own voice startled her. It was something dull and dead, a spark that turned to dust in her own ears.
I’m the thing that’s woken up inside you,’ the Voice replied. You called to me down there in the dark, and I came. I’ve always been there. You just didn’t need me before. But now, things have changed, haven’t they? Now you’ve grown, and I’m telling you: the world out there isn’t ready for you. With those hands of yours, you can reach out and grab anything you want out there. Anything.
She felt it within her again – that piece of herself that was aching to be released even now. To breathe. To live. To burn.
Now, tell me, the voice said. What do you want?
Through tear-filled eyes, her parched throat scratched out an answer:
‘To die.’
And from deep within her bosom, she felt the thing within her chuckle, like a spattering of tiny embers tickling the top of a warmed hearth.
Don’t we all?
______________________________________________________________________________________________
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hello! my ENT recently scoped my nose and throat and indicated that acid reflux/LPR could be the cause of my symptoms (cobblestone throat, tons and tons of mucus, productive/non-productive cough, hoarseness) and prescribed me Pantoprazole 20mg twice a day. after looking through this page it seems that most people who do have success with PPI usually take a higher dose of 40mg twice a day. i’m wondering if potentially i should ask for my medication to be bumped up? i’ve only been on it for two days so i’m not sure if it’s even working yet, but if 20mg twice a day won’t be as helpful as 40mg twice a day then i’m wondering if i should just bump it up to be proactive.
p.s. how long will it take to even KNOW if the 20mg twice a day is helping? when should i see some symptom relief/signs im getting better?

I posted this yesterday to ask about oral thrush, and I got a lot of comments about the bumps in the back. I always thought those were normal taste buds (circumvallate papillae). I was never worried about them before, but now I am! I had hpv on my cervix but I was told it cleared!
I went to an ENT recently for my tonsils, and he used a scope and looked down my throat… I never specifically told him about the bumps on my tongue, but I’m sure he would’ve seen them and said something if it were concerning, right??
P.S I already have a follow up appointment with my ENT this week, so I will be asking him about this, but I’m looking for other opinions in the meantime. I always thought this was normal!