Chapter CC
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Trout's Landing.
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Ruby stretched with a contented sigh. She turned her head over to where Jeb slept beside her. Or where he was when she fell asleep. She sat up and looked around the dark underground room but he wasn't here either.
"Wonder where he went."
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Oh well, she thought as she stretched a few stiff muscles before hopping up and collecting their eggs. As nice as it was to sleep with them, they needed more consistent warmth. So she sat them to the side, bundled up in the still warm blanket, and departed to secure a source of fire for their eggs.
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Which wasn't all that hard, she realized as her dark vision faded as the blue glow from the torches up ahead illuminated the main gathering area for the burrows. She smiled as she saw the tribe return to something familiar that she missed seeing for a while.
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Several tunnels branched off towards the other cabins and already kobolds came and went from them as they began to migrate away from the chill air above for the, still cool but more comfortable, air below. As they did she could see the collections they brought back and forth. Animals, alive and dressed, were being moved down here and out of the elements for better care. As well as an easier time keeping the ever gluttonous salamanders from sneaking another meal. Scraps and salvage collected from around the lodge or while out exploring being brought down and being traded or even used to furnish the space.
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Bits of wood with simple carvings were lodged into the dirt along side scraps of metal or rock with soot, mud, or crushed flower pigment to paint symbols or words on them for decoration or directions. While it wasn't the bustling forum that they once had, it gladdened her to see her tribe returning to normalcy once again.
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She shook away the distracting thoughts and set her sights on some scrap of wood nearby. She darted over to the vendor, deftly avoiding a section of the ground being dug up as the kobolds dug ever deeper as they sought to expand their burrows ever more. It was in their nature to dig and burrow. While they no longer had a draconic master to excavate massive caverns and tunnels for, she wouldn't be surprised if kobold tunnels ended up expanding far past the border of the lodge itself and going far into the wild where they knew nothing about save for what little Jeb has told them.
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Eventually, even this gathering area will be abandoned as the tribe moved deeper down, putting as much dirt and rock between them and whatever threats laid above. The only thing that would remain would be an assortment of traps to keep any invaders wary of going deeper than the kobolds wanted. Even then, many of the tunnels that would lead deeper would be dead-ends meant to slow or hinder any invader. Some would even be traps in and of themselves, collapsing the "tunnel" on top of even the most cautious of invader or even just blocking their escape and leaving them to die before the kobolds eventually dug out their remains and collected their gear with no trouble.
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She stood before the assortment of wood and looked over the scrap. Some of it was processed lumber that looked to be from the buildings above, most was collected bits of wood from the forest though. Which was fine, she didn't need anything too big. No bartering took place. She was a leader of the tribe and it was assumed whatever she wanted was for the good of the tribe.
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Even starting a warming fire for her eggs was good enough for the tribe to skip bartering and simply give her what she needed. So she collected enough wood for a nice fire and returned to her home. She sorted it into the indent in the ground that Jeb had placed their eggs in before. It would be a good place to start a heating fire for them, she thought as she finished arranging them.
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She left and collected some tinder made of dried moss and grass before looking around for some stone or flint to start the fire with. But no such luck. All the stone was deeply imbedded in the dirt or was too large. She once more returned to the gathering area in search of fire. Which she quickly found in the form of the glowing blue fire that Jeb had created for the kobolds.
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She shuffled a little as she stared at the dancing flame. She knew Jeb didn't like the idea of the kobolds using the blue fire. He probably wouldn't like the idea of heating their eggs with it either. She should be worried as well, she thought. But she wasn't. Staring at the flame reminded her of the vision that The Crone showed her. Of her and Jeb within a ring of flaming blue orbs. They were happy. The tribe was happy.
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"He'll understand." She said as she darted and collected a piece of wood to transfer a spark from a nearby torch.
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Ember in hand, she rushed back to her home. She gently eased the flame towards the bundle of wood. She yipped in shock when the flame leapt from her temporary torch and engulfed the pile! Their room burst into dancing shadows as the flames danced from their new home. So pretty, she thought as she stared at the fire. She had seen it when she would come out of their room in the old building for a break. But it seemed so mesmerizing now that it was right in front of her.
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She widened the indent in the ground a little so that the eggs could receive the warmth from the fire without being too close. They might be mildly resistant to fire, but not enough to throw their eggs in a fire! Then again, she thought with worry as she held her claw out at the fire. The warmth from it isn't as strong as a normal fire it seemed. Like it was contained.
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She clicked her claws in worry. She didn't want to push them too close, but they wouldn't get enough heat if they remained where they were. It would only get worse as it got colder and the cold seeped into the ground. Maybe just a little closer, she thought as she nudged the eggs closer to the fire.
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The flames sputtered at the movement of air, but nothing more. She held out her claw to gauge the temperature once again. But it still wasn't enough, she thought as she clicked her claws against a nearby stone in thought. She cast a glance towards the tunnel. She could maybe see if one of the others have something to make a proper fire, she thought.
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She put a claw on the eggs.
"No. That'll take too long."
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She looked worryingly at the tunnel as if Jeb would appear and lambast her for even thinking what she was. She held her breath and pushed the eggs forwards. Then more. Then even more. The flames sputtered and danced as the eggs were pushed closer and closer. She could only just feel the heat as she did so. Why did the fire seem so weak, she thought as she pushed the eggs right up beside the bundle of burning wood.
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Yet the fire seemed to move around the eggs, like they were doing their best to avoid touching them. Even the heat from the fire seemed to be avoiding them! Ruby growled in frustration and pushed the eggs right into the fire!
"Can you just keep them warm?!"
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The fire stilled and froze as the eggs were pushed into it. As if it didn't know what to do. Then the flame roared to life once again. The balefire caressed the onyx shells as it seemed to dance across the smooth black surface of the shells. As if a barrier broke, the heat from the flame radiated outwards now. Ruby could now feel the warmth from the fire where seconds ago she felt nothing.
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Ruby blinked at the eldritch flame and moved her claw to touch her eggs. She instinctively pulled back as a tongue of balefire arced in her direction. She whined in worry at possibly making a terrible mistake. She held her breath and once more reached out to caress her eggs. She bit her tongue and shut her eyes when the fire arced towards her once more.
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But she didn't feel pain. No burning sensation one would get when normally sticking an appendage into a roaring fire. Instead she felt a comforting warmth. Like she felt when close to Jeb as they slept together. She cracked open an eye and found the baleful flame caressing her claw. She experimented a little by pulling her claw back, feeling as the flame seemed to latch on like it didn't want her to leave, before snapping back to its "body". She pushed her claw into the fire, further this time, all the way up to her elbow. The fire latched onto her once again and flooded her with a comforting warmth that shot straight to her core!
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She turned her claw upwards and pulled back once more. She watched as the flame held on as she did so, once more refusing to leave her scales. She watched as the flame snapped once again, but this time, it broke! Instead of snapping back towards its body, she now held a burning ball of balefire in her claw!
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She couldn't do magic. There were few of the tribe that could before they fled to this world. The Chief was the last among them that had any ability to harness it. Yet here she was, holding a magical fire within her claw! She watched as the flame danced and twisted in her grasp. She sucked in a breath when she watched it start to diffuse INTO her scales! The flame lessened and lessened as if it were dying, but instead the fire seeped between the cracks of her scales. She could feel it racing through her body, flooding it once more with a wave of comforting warmth.
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"Den Mother?" A voice asked from the tunnel nearby.
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Ruby yelped in surprise and turned towards the voice. She saw the Chief standing there watching her with a curious and amazed expression on his snout.
"Having fun?"
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"Chief!? I was-"
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"Playing with fire?" The Chief asked playfully as he stared at the blue fire.
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She shuffled nervously as he did so. Eventually he chuckled and she began to relax.
"It's alright Den Mother. You're not the only one that Master Jeb's flame as entranced among the tribe."
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"Why do you think it acts so different from normal fire?" She asked.
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The Chief shrugged.
"Who knows. Perhaps it is how magic works in this world. Perhaps it is something on Master Jeb's part. Perhaps it is because our former- Kortaza, was the Keeper of Flame."
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"But we never had much protection from fire before. And not any way to manipulate it." Ruby said.
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The Chief sighed.
"True. I truly do not know why it is so different than normal fire. Fire is alive, yes. But this one seems almost..."
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"Living?" Ruby suggested.
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"Yes. Like it has a mind of its own. Though I doubt that much, perhaps it merely follows the will of Master Jeb, knowingly or not on his part." The Chief continued as he walked closer and sat down beside Ruby and watched the eggs glimmer and shine within the fire where they remained quiet for some peaceful moments.
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The Chief then perked up.
"Oh! Master Jeb returned!"
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"He did?! Where is he?" Ruby asked and looked around expecting to see him coming down the tunnel.
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"Well, he did return. Rushed around and collected an assortment of food, and then he vanished away again. Something about a trade?" The Chief explained a little unsure.
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She frowned, wonder what he was trading, she thought. Though, with the eggs now taken care of, and Jeb away for a moment. Perhaps now was the time she could see about doing something special for him. She turned to the Chief, he was more knowledgeable when it came to humans and their customs.
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"Chief?" She asked.
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"Yes? What is it?" He asked at the tone of her voice.
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"What do you know of this world's humans?"
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"Oh? What would you like to know?" He asked a little excited in being able to use his collected knowledge.
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"What do humans do with those they care about?" She asked a little uncertainly.
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The Chief hummed in thought and tapped his claws.
"It depends. Humans are as diverse in this world as ours. Many customs I've read about belong to different groups."
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"What about the tribe that Jeb belongs to?"
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The Chief hummed once more in thought and got up before darting away while calling back.
"I will check! I'm sure I have something!"
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While she waited, she continued to play with fire and tend to her eggs. Since they were in the flame, they didn't need quite so studious attention as they did before. She could probably just leave them and go tend to her normal duties and not have to worry about them anymore.
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Who was she fooling, she thought. Even if there was a way to hatch and tend to the eggs completely without her, she'd still want to look after them. She thought she heard Jeb mentioning something about an "electrical egg incubator" once upon a time. Whatever that was.
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The Chief returned, huffing from being out of breath and holding a thickly bound tome with pages of different sizes and colors poking out of the patched bindings. He placed the heavy tome on the ground with a huff.
"This is my collection of this world's customs and knowledge. If there is something that will assist you it will be in here somewhere!"
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Ruby oohed and awed as the Chief flipped open the tome and leafed through page after page of information. Some were pages from magazines, others were snippets and clippings from books, there was a few pages that contained pressed cuttings of local flora as well as a collection of small animal bones among the bindings.
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They stopped on a page that read MODERN COURTING FOR THE MODERN WOMAN in bold letters on a page that felt smooth to the touch. On the cover was a gorgeous human woman wearing a sleek beautiful dress and jewelry. Ruby pointed towards the page.
"Oh this one!"
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They thumbed through the pages looking for information. Most neither one of them got as it talked about stuff like make-up, libido, popular fashion, and other things that they didn't either understand or see the appeal of. Then they found a page that described how a modern woman should act. Though this seemed to confuse the both of them even more.
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"Be 'dem-or' and assertive? What does 'dem-or' mean?" Ruby asked the Chief.
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"I'm not sure. There are many words within that don't seem to fit." He explained.
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A pattern they soon found to be common among the pages of information, much of the words would make sense but spread out among them were these spots of words that seemed just out of place. What they COULD understand still didn't make any sense either.
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"Be soft yet firm? How does that work?" The Chief asked.
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"If you like a potential mate why make him keep trying to win your heart?" Ruby asked equally confused.
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"Modern" humans were just as confusing to them it seemed. However, among the pages of contradictory information, they were able to get SOMETHING of value! Humans like gifts. Though they both knew that and didn't really feel like these pages of "modern courting" did anything more than confuse them.
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"What kind of gifts?" The Chief asked as he and Ruby tried to decipher the mess of flowery wording and nonsense.
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"Jewelry, clothes, food." Ruby read off as they got the general gist of the overly convoluted wording. The pictures helped more though.
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"Well! At least we found something... I think?" The Chief declared at least with a little uncertainty.
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"Why did you collect all this?" Ruby asked.
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"It was in a book, so I thought it was important. But it would seem that not everything in this world's books are worth keeping." The Chief stated before retrieving the tome and departing.
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"Where are you going?"
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"To go through my collection. It would seem that some of it is not as important as I first thought." He called out as he left.
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She could hear him mumbling to himself and heard the occasional tearing as he did. Well, at least they found something, she thought as she turned towards the eggs once more. She placed a claw on the onyx shells and felt the comforting warmth of the fire as well as the warmth of the eggs. They'll be fine for now, she thought as she got up and left.
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"Jewelry, clothes, and food." Ruby murmured as she went down the tunnel once again.
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He was getting low on clothes, she thought. But there wasn't much around here to make some with. Though perhaps some animal hides would work? But much of what they've collected was too small for clothes of Jeb's size. Getting him food seemed redundant too. He could make his own food whenever he wished. Which left jewelry.
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It was the better of the options, but they didn't have much in the way of jewelry either. No raids means no loot and the piles of treasure back in their former home wasn't exactly a priority at the time of their exodus. But then she spied the copper wire the kobolds had collected while scavenging. A copper band would be nice, she thought as she was given the piece of wiring from the scavenger.
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But what else, she thought as she looked around some more. The pictures in the magazine showed jewelry that glittered with gold and diamonds and so much more that they no longer had. Nothing around here could compare, she thought dejectedly. But then she saw a group of kobolds coming down a tunnel with a collection of shells and waterlogged timber.
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"What is this?" She asked them.
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"Salvage from the camps up river." The kobold replied as he and the others began to sift and sort the mess.
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She watched as they distributed everything they collected to the tribe that came over. Some took the waterlogged wood, others took polished stones, and others took the collection of shells. She eyed the shells. Back home, alot of the fishfolk in the rivers and around the sea collected pearls from the water. Perhaps the ones upriver also had some?
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She followed after the group of kobolds that had collected the shells and assisted them in opening a few. Mussels were what was mainly here, no surprise though since it seemed they were far from this world's ocean. What was a surprise was how many pearls they actually managed to find among the mussels!
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It was rare for the kobolds to find one during their fishing trips by the sea. Even among the rivers pearls were not much more common. So it surprised them that several mussels had multiple pearls within them! She was going to actually barter for potentially the single one they found, but with there being so many the shuckers didn't mind at all and gave Ruby a small handful for her project.
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They weren't all that big, but that was fine by her. They'd do for what she had in mind. She borrowed a small thin metal needle from a scavenger and retreated back to her room. Copper wire and freshwater pearls in claw.
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-----
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Well, that's taken care of, Jeb thought as he appeared in the open air of the lodge. He flicked the gold and garnet band into the air and got it with a spring in his step and a tune on his lips as he made his way over to the Trap Master who stood near the river where he received reports from the salvagers.
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"How's things?" He asked when he got close.
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"Good. Strange. But good." The Trap Master stated as he dismissed the salvagers.
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"How so?"
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"The 'murlocs' you called them? Haven't returned to their former homes." He explained.
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"And? Wasn't that kinda the point?"
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"It was. But there isn't any sign of anything else other than birds flocking to the area."
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"Again, wasn't that the point?"
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"Only if something worse didn't move in." The Trap Master explained further.
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Jeb groaned.
"What moved in?"
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"Nothing."
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"Nothin'?"
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"That we can see. No new tracks, no scents, nothing."
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"So what's the problem?"
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"The problem is that much carrion should've drawn every scavenger and hungry animal for miles."
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"But it hasn't." Jeb finished.
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"No. The birds infest the area but largely leave us alone. Though some get a little territorial over their spots of carrion. But nothing else has moved into the area."
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Jeb groaned again.
"So what do you wanna do?"
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"Nothing."
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"Really?" Jeb asked in surprise.
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"Yes. If the other animals and creatures nearby are giving the place a wide berth then we'll exploit it as long as we can. We'll send some scouts to keep an eye on the place though."
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"Perhaps the smell of death is what's doin' it?" Jeb suggested.
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"Maybe. Would explain the large number of birds. But nothing else?"
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"Yeah, you're right. Well let me know if you need help with it." Jeb said.
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"Will do."
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"Oh! Before I forget, I made a trade agreement with the dwarves."
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The Trap Master cocked a scaled brow.
"Oh?"
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"Yeah. Food for tools. We'll need to set aside five crates twice a week, but we'll get some decent tools to help speed up excavation." Jeb explained.
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The Trap Master tapped his claws against his scales in thought.
"That's doable."
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"You sure? Cuz I'm more than happy to do it all myself." Jeb said and conjured an apple to make his point.
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"No. The tools are for us, we should assist. Besides, we gathered more for our former master. Five crates twice a week will be easy enough to do." The Trap Master stated in a relaxed tone.
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"Alright, if you're certain." Jeb said.
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"I am. We'll let you know if anything changes." The Trap Master replied.
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"Alright, have it your way." Jeb returned and departed while tossing the conjured apple towards the lazing salamanders nearby.
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Jeb ported down to the main gathering area. The place was just as busy as when he left as the kobolds went about their duties and tasks with vigor and joy that he's only really seen when they were staying in his basement. Guess he was the one living in their basement now, he thought with a chuckle.
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He played with the gold and garnet band as he shuffled nervously. Wasn't sure why he was so nervous, he thought. She already had his kids, kinda, sorta. They were already living together. This would just be the natural progression of things. Kinda, sorta. He heaved in a big gulp of air to steady his nerves.
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"Alright. Quite procrastinatin' Jeb." He muttered to himself and started down the tunnel towards his home.
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He stopped when his boot stepped on something different. He looked down and picked up a magazine page.
"Modern courtin' for the modern woman? Where the hell did this come from?"
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Probably Sammy's, Jeb thought as he tossed aside the girly garbage. Not sure what it was doing out here though. Maybe she brought it for Thanksgiving and forgot it? Or maybe the kobolds swiped it when they raided her hairspray? Or maybe she just left it among his other articles one of the times she and his pa would go over to his place.
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"Oh well." He said as he continued on.
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He could hear humming as he got closer, and saw a familiar pale blue light. He walked into his room and saw Ruby humming as she tinkered with something. Nearby was their eggs, sitting in the balefire. He should've panicked. He should've dropped everything and ran over trying to save his kids. That's what a father would do right?
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But he didn't have that gut wrenching feeling of seeing your kids in danger he thought he would. Still, he walked over beside Ruby. She yelped in surprise and fumbled with what she was working on as Jeb reached out a hand and touched their onyx colored eggs.
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"Jeb?! I was- They were-" Ruby tried to explain while also trying to gather her things.
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"It's alright." Jeb said.
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"It is?" She asked with concern.
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"Yeah. They're not hot." He said as he stroked the shells through the fire that did nothing to him.
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"Are you sure?" She asked with worry and concern.
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"Yeah. Doubt it'll do anythin' more to 'em." Jeb said with a bit more bitterness in his voice than he wanted there to be.
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He saw Ruby's face fall at his words. Nice job dickhead, Jeb thought to himself. He sighed and turned towards Ruby.
"I'm sorry. I'm just nervous 'bout everythin' happenin'."
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"I'm nervous too." She stated and leaned into him for a hug, which he eagerly returned.
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They held each other for a long moment before Ruby perked up and scrambled away.
"Hold on! Don't look!"
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"Look at what?" Jeb asked with a cocked brow as he did his best to hide his own gift.
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"I said don't look!" She chided.
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"Alright!" He said with a laugh.
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He turned away as he heard her grumbling and fumbling with whatever she was working on when he walked in on her. While he waited, he stretched out his hand and caressed their eggs. Please don't get any weirder, he pleaded mentally while he waited.
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"Ok! You can look now!" Ruby called at last.
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Jeb turned back around and saw Ruby holding a ring towards him. It was some braided copper wire with a couple of small pearls threaded on. She held it up to him.
"What do you think?"
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Wait, was this a gift or was she asking him to marry her, Jeb thought. He had to say something though, the look of confusion on his face was making Ruby sad.
"I love it! What's it for exactly?"
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"Well, I'm courting you!" She said as Jeb accepted the copper and pearl braided band.
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"Courtin' me? What does that-" Jeb started when he noticed a rustle from his left boot.
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He looked down and pulled off a piece of paper that had stuck to it. MODERN COURTING FOR THE MODERN WOMAN, it said in bold on the paper. He turned it around towards Ruby.
"Did you read this?"
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She shuffled.
"Yes? I wasn't sure how you court a human in this world! But the words were confusing and didn't make any sense and- why are you laughing?"
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"I'm laughin' because this is trash! None of the stuff in here is how you should court someone!" Jeb said with a laugh.
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"But it says-" Ruby started when Jeb tossed the magazine paper into the nearby fire, which ate it instantly.
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"It's just somethin' that girls read to pass the time. Nothin' in there is worth the paper it's printed on." Jeb declared.
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"Oh. So?" Ruby asked dejectedly as she gestured to the ring she made for Jeb.
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"This is just fine. Though do you know what it means to get a ring for someone?" Jeb asked.
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"That they love one another?" Ruby said a little unsure now.
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"Yeah. I guess it does. But the act of givin' someone you love a ring is a symbol that you want to be together." Jeb explained and produced his own gift for Ruby.
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Her eyes went wide as she grasped the gold and garnet band.
"But we're already together."
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"Yeah. We are."
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"So what does the rings mean?" Ruby asked as she examined the band.
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"Well, it's more religious really."
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"Oh?"
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"Yeah. It's supposed to mean... somethin'." Jeb started as he realized he didn't entirely recall what the meaning of the ring was supposed to mean.
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"Mean what?" Ruby pressed as she tried to fit the band on her arm and then her tail.
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"Well. It generally means being together forever."
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"But why the ring?"
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"It means a sort of exclusivity for folk." Jeb explained.
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"Why? What about the rest of the tribe? Does that mean you won't help them?" She asked.
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"No! I can, or will, or... this is harder than I thought it'd be." Jeb said with a sigh.
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Ruby cocked a brow as well.
"So what happens?"
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"Well, we exchange rings and promise to love one another forever. In sickness and health and yada yada. Then we're husband and wife." Jeb explained.
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"Why? We're already mates and we love one another. What does our health have to do with it? And what is a 'husband and wife'?"
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"Well... You know what? Forget it. Do you promise to love me?"
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"Yes! Do you?"
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"Yup!"
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"Yay!" Ruby cried and hugged Jeb.
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"And I now pronounce you man and wife." Jeb muttered as he kissed Ruby.
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Ruby giggled and pulled away.
"So what happens now?"
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"Now... I don't know. Usually there would also be paper work, but given... us, it prob'bly wouldn't matter."
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"So what changes?" Ruby asked as she affixed the gold and garnet band to one of her horns with a smile.
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"Uhm... nothin'? We're already together, we already live together, we already have kids... kinda." Jeb listed off.
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"So what's the rings supposed to mean?"
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"It means... I love you." Jeb replied at last, giving up on trying to explain something he himself wasn't entirely informed of.
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"I love you too!" Ruby cried and kissed him.
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He returned the kiss. Not like this would've been an official wedding anyway, Jeb thought. They don't exactly have a licensed priest to officiate it. Or witnesses. He doubt their still shelled eggs would count. He could ask the Chief to oversee it. But he already got a headache trying to explain marriage to Ruby, he didn't really want to explain it to the Chief, or any other kobolds that might be interested.
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Not like it made anything different, Jeb thought. Ruby was right. They loved one another. They lived together. They had kids together. For all intense and purpose, they were mates. Sure if he was particularly religious he could insist on going to a church and doing things official. But given how things have turned out for them lately, he wouldn't be surprised if he burst into flames stepping inside a church.
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Well, there was ONE tradition that they could still do, Jeb thought with a smirk as he picked up Ruby bridal style.
"Wanna consummate our marriage?"
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"What does that mean?" She asked.
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"Don't worry. You'll like it." Jeb said as he led her over to their moss bed.
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Last year during an argument my husband (23M) said to me, (20F) "Are you seriously mad at me? This is why you women should never ask these stupid fucking questions!"
So naturally I stopped opening up about my anxieties and worries to him.
Whenever he would disrespect me in front of his friends, or disregard me and my thoughts and feelings I would turn to my mother.
I know I shouldn't of aired his dirty laundry out to her but I was terrified of how he might react if I had questioned him about his behavior.
As he has dealt with being cheated on in a previous relationship he would drill into me if I ever cheated on him he would kill me. He would accuse me almost everyday, even though I always made sure men and his male friends were always at an arm's length with me as I never wanted to entertain the idea of crossinh any boundaries and because I was madly in love with him and could literally care less about other men's opinion of me. He would go through my phone every night after I fell asleep and he eventually found out about my messages to my mother.
He was furious I told her about our personal problems instead of coming to him but I explained as to why I did so. He then shut down, shut me out, gave me the silent treatment and then jerked off to porn in the shower for two hours.
This would be a reoccuring pattern.
Two months ago I told him I wanted to learn how to drive and become more independent as I should know how to drive by now but let my severe anxieties of being on the road stop me.
He said he was worried because and I quote, "When a he says she wants to be independent..." Literally calling me a he when I have literally never ever exuded any energy of the sort.
Obviously I took offense to this and told him, "Please do not call me that."
To which he replied, "That's not what I meant." and then proceeded to tell gaslight me into thinking that wasn't what he meant at all.
When I stood my ground and said, "Regardless of what you meant I would appreciate if you would rather not do that again."
He looked like a puppy that had just been kicked and kept going on about how awful of a husband he is. When I sat there staring at him, he then shut down, shuts me out, gave me the silent treatment went upstairs and jerked off to porn in the shower for two hours again.
I am constantly in a damned if I do, damned if I don't situation, If he upsets me and I tell him he is unable to take any criticism or own up to his mistake like an adult and says he's the most horrible man alive and uses that self loathing to then give me the silent treatment and jerk off to porn. If he upsets me and I tell my mother instead he snoops through my phone gets angry at me for turning to her instead uses that resentment to then give me the silent treatment and jerk off to porn. He says indulging in porn is his number one solution to stress.
I HAVE BEEN BROKEN DOWN, SHATTERED TO PIECES AND DRAINED OF ALL LIFE AND NOT ONCE HAVE I THOUGHT TO BETRAY HIM IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM.
He uses me standing up for myself as a reason to jerk off because apparently I'm just the evil, shrewd, nagging wife who is the worst person on the planet.
The crazy thing is, I have a high sex drive and was more than happy to have sex with him everyday. But that wasn't enough, and rapidly throughout our relationship he declined my iniations for intimacy and started favoring his porn.
If it were infrequent uses of free porn when I wasn't in the mood maybe I would've been okay with it but he was legitimately rejecting me for sex and then waiting til i fell asleep to then indulge in porn.
It was paying for onlyfans subscriptions, generating thousands of images of AI porn, paying animators to animate pornography of his favorite characters, watching porn and playing pornographic video games and the worst to me was him using fake AI dating apps that let you swipe through images of real women to then sext with AI bots pretending to be them.
He would spend upwards to several hundreds on all of this every month.
I find myself apologizing in times when it should be him.
I cannot stand to look myself in the mirror as I think I'm the most hideous creature to ever roam the earth.
I can't go anywhere or engage in any media (completely SFW) without getting triggered and thinking would he rather be with someone who looked like her as opposed to me.
And when he saw me looking at this subreddit one day at my laptop he got so frustrated to think I would ever need a support group like this.
I have no friends, I only talk to my mother on a daily basis besides him.
I am married and yet I feel so incredibly lonely.
Fortunately I have a picnic set up with a mutual female acquaintance tomorrow and I am excited and I want to tell her everything but I know I shouldn't and it would be wrong of me and it would bite me back in the ass.
I just want someone to hug me.
I feel so empty.
I can never win.

I [m21] finish my final semester of undergrad this upcoming December. For the summer, I have one course and have recently gotten a job at Dunkin Donuts. I admittedly don't have much job experience (Or much on my resume in general), but I want something so that my career can be bolstered by something. The guy who has the hiring packets for insurance forms and bank forms and stuff is currently on vacation, and the earliest I can work is 2 weeks from now.
I applied to my undergrad's law school early (we have a school program that lets you forfeit your senior year and classify it as your first year of law school) and got rejected today. I will apply this upcoming semester to law schools that are not my school's law school. I took the LSAT twice, scoring a 158 the first time with minimal studying (external circumstances) and a 151 the second time (the same external circumstances). I'm aware I am not a supergenius.
As the summer is still young, and I have two weeks until I get the job at Dunkin, my mother wants me to scrap that job and pursue some remote interning positions with legal firms via Handshake to help my credibility once I get out of law school and start applying for actual jobs. But those are not guaranteed while this Dunkin job is basically in my hands, I just need a bit of time. I am even willing to do both, because I have always had a fervent passion for money, but she is adamant that I am wasting my time and that my stubbornness to shake this job is the reason I was rejected from law school. I feel like she wants to just be right, but this isn't me trying to AITA it. I want to know if I'm genuinely hurting my chances if I don't land an intern position this summer (I WILL TRY!!!!) and instead have a job at a Dunkin.
Boldened key details for people who don't want to read it all

For the first time since his incarceration, Bankman-Fried described his daily life in a detailed interview with journalist William D. Cohan of Puck:

On a recent Tuesday, I went to the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn for an intimate chat with America’s most famous prisoner, Sam Bankman-Fried. During our 75-minute conversation, we discussed everything from Caroline Ellison and the travails of his new life, to his regrets about the demise of FTX and his forthcoming appeal.
I got the distinct impression that Sam still doesn’t believe he committed any crimes, only that he was the one responsible for putting FTX in a position where it was vulnerable to a bank run and the devious actions of its competitors

WILLIAM D. COHAN -- May 9, 2024
On Tuesday afternoon, I found myself in the most unusual circumstances—sitting on a small plastic chair at a cramped table in the Metropolitan Detention Center, the federal prison on 29th Street in Sunset Park, in Deep Brooklyn. Outside, it was a gorgeous day, the sort of picturesque and slightly humid one that inevitably reminds longtime New Yorkers of the weather on the morning of September 11th. Inside the prison’s visiting room, however, there was no natural light, no sunshine, only the Hitchcockian buzz of fluorescent bulbs and three vending machines standing in a corner. Posters on the wall attempted to compensate for the bleak atmosphere by buoyantly welcoming visiting families.
I first met Sam Bankman-Fried in December 2021, during the height of his power and influence, when he was the richest person in the world under 30. My friend Anthony Scaramucci, a.k.a. The Mooch, had connected us. On a cold winter night at the One Hotel, on Sixth Avenue, I interviewed him for a documentary I am part of making about Bitcoin and its developer, Satoshi Nakamato. Sam showed up an hour late, in a black t-shirt and cargo shorts, apparently having just flown in via private jet from the Bahamas. A month later, Sam’s cryptocurrency exchange, FTX, would raise its final $400 million round of financing from a group of highfalutin investors—led by Softbank, Temasek, and Paradigm—at a valuation of $32 billion, making the company one of the most valuable in the sector. At that moment, Sam was said to be worth $26 billion.
This week, we reconnected amid very different circumstances. Sam and I arranged for this visit through his Corrlinks email account, at the suggestion of his mother, Barbara Fried, and the family’s prison advisor. We met on Tuesday around 1 p.m. because that was the only day that visiting hours are permitted at MDC, a hangover from the Covid era. Prisoners can have visitors for one of two sessions, either starting at noon or at five in the afternoon.
We were meeting later than noon because of the staffing shortage at the facility. I was allowed to bring in $1 or $5 bills, up to a total of $30, in case I wanted to buy Sam some water, soda, or snacks from the humming vending machines. I was told to put my $20 bill as well as my wallet and iPhone into a locker. Sam was not permitted to buy anything himself.
Following about an hour of bureaucratic snafus (I went to the wrong building at first, and I wasn’t wearing dark pants—although an exception was made for me) and other forms of prison processing (shoes and belt off, metal detection, sticking my hand in a scanner) I was finally allowed inside the prison, without a phone, a watch, a recording device, or even a pad of paper and a pencil. (I knew this in advance, of course, and set about preserving my recollections of our conversation immediately after leaving the facility.)
After a few minutes of waiting, I looked up to see Sam Bankman-Fried, over in the corner, dressed head to toe in a chocolate-brown prison jumpsuit, along with the still-wild frizzy hair that has been his trademark. These days, Sam looks considerably thinner than the last time we met—it appeared he’d lost 25 pounds, at least. But he looked better and fitter than I thought he would, to be honest—less pudgy, less manic, less fidgety, no bags under his eyes.
He was sustaining himself on rice and beans, he said, because the prison food was unsurprisingly inedible, especially the vegan entrées he was served, which his fellow inmates thought literally smelled like shit. He wasn’t complaining, mind you; he noted that he was just trying to make the best of a bad situation. The rice he buys at the prison commissary has become one of the currencies of the realm inside MDC. We joked briefly about how the arbitrage opportunities in jail were better than anything he experienced trading crypto at Jane Street Capital or buying and selling assets at Alameda. He looked me in the eye pretty much the whole time, something he rarely did with people in the old days.
After we shook hands, he sat down in his own plastic chair as a camera watched us from the ceiling. We were surrounded by a couple of other inmates, dressed similarly, facing their visitors. Sam declined my initial offer to buy him some snacks but ultimately agreed to a $4 bottle of water and a small $2 package of Wheat Thins, which he eagerly consumed.
We talked for the next 75 minutes or so, the first in-person interview he has given to a journalist since he was locked up in the MDC last August and then subsequently convicted of two counts of wire fraud, conspiracy to commit wire fraud, securities fraud, commodities fraud, and money-laundering at his federal trial in November. In March, he was sentenced to 25 years in prison. Our chat, under these rather drastic circumstances, was a profoundly jarring and fascinating experience.

Prison Diaries

Sam began by answering my question about his life in prison. According to him, he lives in an area of the jail that was dedicated mostly to incarcerated women, save for the 35 men with whom he shares a dormitory-style existence in a big open room—bunk beds, no privacy, extreme boredom, and four television sets tuned to ESPN, Telemundo, BET, and a news channel. Sam said he could try to persuade his fellow inmates to change up the channel selection, but television bores him, so he has no interest in that challenge. He prefers watching a small selection of movies or playing some inferior video games on a tablet, without an internet connection, that the prison provides him and other inmates.
When I told him he seemed better than I had anticipated, he replied that he’d become good at faking it. So, yes, life inside the MDC is not the Bahamas. But, truly, I had expected to see him coping less well. At the MDC, Sam has mostly been permitted his prescription medications, and the cocktail he’s been allowed has him thinking clearly, he said, and energized for the legal battle he plans to wage soon against the verdict.
In the meantime, he told me, he doesn’t fear for his safety. He can use the bathroom and shower a couple of times a week in peace. He’s always been a light sleeper, and he’s still not sleeping soundly at the MDC, but mostly because people sometimes bug him during the night about those bags of rice, which they intend to use to barter. He has not been touched or abused, and he seemed notably thankful for that.
He acknowledged that he has a unique rap sheet at MDC, and his fellow prisoners indeed recognize him. He estimated that about half of the other 35 men in his unit were murderers who had been turned into cooperating witnesses for the prosecution in exchange for not serving a life sentence. In prison, many inmates consider cooperating witnesses the lowest form of vermin, lower even than child molesters. Sam also told me that some of the other prisoners tried to get close to him, thinking they would benefit financially from the proximity to a former billionaire. He doesn’t play along, he said.
We didn’t talk about his trial strategy or whether he intentionally siphoned off the $8 billion of FTX customer funds into Alameda. Both topics seemed moot at this point. We did discuss his onetime girlfriend, Caroline Ellison, whom he selected to run Alameda after lawyers kept hounding him about the inherent conflicts in him running both FTX and the hedge fund. (He chose to run FTX.) He acknowledged that he had asked a few other people if they would be interested in the role, but they turned him down. Ellison, he said, was a good manager of people and a good administrator but didn’t like making big investments and didn’t like taking risks. (Obviously, this seems like a bizarre aversion for a hedge fund manager, but I didn’t belabor the point.) In any event, Alameda ended up doing both.
He regretted that he had not tried harder to find another executive. He also said he should have ignored the lawyers and just kept running both FTX and Alameda, conflicts be damned, sort of like how Elon Musk oversees his various companies. Wishing he had ignored his lawyers’ advice emerged as a theme of Sam’s during our visit.

Legal Therapy

We did talk a fair amount about his appeal and about how he believed he was set up to be the fall guy—the victim of the old build-’em-up-only-to-tear-’em-down narrative arc. His theory of the case was that by the fall of 2022, it was every man for himself on a boat that looked to be sinking. By early November 2022, FTX was facing a liquidity crunch. Sam first sought a deal with Binance, which quickly fell apart or was never truly real, and was in the process of trying to raise billions in capital when his lawyers advised him to turn the keys of FTX over to John J. Ray III, which he did. Ray quickly filed FTX for bankruptcy and installed Sullivan & Cromwell, the company’s outside counsel, as counsel to the debtor.
Sam became the target of federal prosecutors, he told me, soon after FTX’s outside counsel at Sullivan & Cromwell made a presentation to them, on November 9, 2022, a day or so before the bankruptcy filing, about what they believed Sam may have engineered between FTX and Alameda, which has been described as the theft of $8 billion of customer money. In a sworn declaration about that meeting, S&C attorney Andrew Dietderich said he reported to the D.O.J. only what Ryne Miller, FTX’s U.S. general counsel, told him about a problem of “reconciling digital assets with entitlements” on FTX’s U.S. exchange, and nothing about Sam and his alleged transgressions.
Sam told me that had he not been persuaded by Sullivan & Cromwell and then by his personal attorneys to relinquish his job as C.E.O. to Ray, the company would not have filed for bankruptcy, and it would still be a thriving enterprise, worth $80 billion now. In this alternate reality, he would be worth $40 billion and he certainly wouldn’t be at the MDC. (S&C declined to comment on Sam’s theory of the case. It’s also fair to reiterate here that Sam was sentenced to 25 years in prison after a jury convicted him of the crimes described above.)
I got the distinct impression that Sam still doesn’t believe he committed any crimes, only that he was the one responsible for putting FTX in a position where it was vulnerable to a bank run and the devious actions of its competitors, not unlike how both Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers failed in 2008. Why, Sam wondered, was he prosecuted when no one at either Bear or Lehman faced criminal prosecution? During our chat, Sam was contrite and certainly chastened, but not exactly apologetic: He was adamant about his innocence, aside from a few degrees of negligence—punishable, in his view, perhaps by civil consequences, not criminal penalties and a quarter-century sentence.
According to Sam’s theory, he isn’t in prison for commingling assets of FTX and Alameda. Instead, he’s an innocent guy who didn’t get a chance to negotiate a deal with the federal prosecutors, and wonders why he was even prosecuted at all for what he believes was a form of a bank run. Instead, they just presented him with his indictment and told him he could eat it— accept it and plead guilty and then get sentenced, or go to trial and try to fight it. Since there was no plea bargain on the table, he said, he fought the charges at trial, and lost. Unlike his fellow inmates, he told me, Sam speaks to his new attorney nearly every weekday for an hour or so, as the focus of his appeal comes into view. He expects to file it this fall. Yes, he will appeal, but most people think he faces long odds of success.
On the day of my visit, Sullivan & Cromwell, still counsel to the debtor-in-possession in FTX’s bankruptcy case, filed a first draft of a plan of reorganization that appears to give its customers and creditors all of their money back, plus a little more—a return of $15 billion on $12 billion of claims—in large part because of the investments Sam made through Alameda. The plan, which still has a long way to go before being confirmed, also gives Sullivan & Cromwell, along with other FTX advisors, “exculpation” from future lawsuits related to its conduct in the matter. This is not unusual in a plan of reorganization. But Sam has exhaustive thoughts on this subject, which I may explore with him in a follow-up conversation.

Go West, Young Man

I’m not sure how much longer Sam will be at the MDC, and neither is he. He has asked to remain in Brooklyn at least until the fall, when his appellate brief will be filed. But that’s not up to him, of course. If he gets moved, which could come at any moment without warning or explanation, I’m told, it would probably be to California, closer to Palo Alto, where he grew up, the son of two Stanford Law professors. At that point, the question will be whether he gets to spend his incarcerated years in a federal penitentiary, which are mostly nasty places filled with hardened criminals, or in more of a minimum security prison, as Mike Milken once did.
If he does get moved out of Brooklyn, his family and legal team worry, he could spend as long as four months on a bus, handcuffed to the seat, making his way, slowly, across the country. Such prison buses make frequent stops—picking up new prisoners, dropping off others—which explains why they take so long to reach their final destinations. There’s also a remote possibility that he could be placed on one of the many planes operated by the U.S. Marshals Service, a.k.a. “Con Air.” But he’s more likely to get the infamous “diesel therapy,” they fear. Either way, during this hypothetical cross-country journey, Sam would be completely incommunicado with both his family and his lawyers until he reaches his new home in California, deprived of the minimal access to the internet and email he now enjoys in Brooklyn.
Just as we were getting ready to discuss some knotty issues, such as his choices during his trial or the fact that many of the people who once worked for him had turned against him to save themselves, our visiting time was up. It was non-negotiable. We quickly shook hands again. Then Sam went back to his dormitory and I went back outside into a glorious spring afternoon.
Credits/Via: https://puck.news/exclusive-prison-chat-with-sam-bankman-fried/

my mother is seriously ill (heart attack and some other health issues including appendicitis and a serious infection). she requires 3 surgeries soon and the school and aqa have denied me any sort of help in my exams. i don’t know what to do, im not mentally well enough to sit these exams and if i fail i will not be able to go to the sixth form i got into due to a conditional place. someone please give me some sort of advice on how i can deal with this or get something arranged.

I wasn't planning on watching Thrice Upon A Time. I had not liked the previous films and they seemed like a very inferior product compared to the original anime. However, the good reviews and opinions I saw about it encouraged me to do so. I did it with as open and tolerant a mind as possible, knowing that there was a good chance I wouldn't like the film. "What's the worst that could happen? That I don't like it and continue to prefer the original series? At least I'll be entertained for two and a half hours," I thought. What I did not expect at all is the deep feeling of disgust and repulsion that this film provoked in me, in a way that no other film has provoked in years.
I hated the movie from start to finish. I could spend hours talking about the boring action sequences, about its ugly, excessive CGI that ruins the already ugly mecha, about its disgusting hypersexualization of fucking 14-year-old girls, about how Misato's plans don't make sense, about how Last Kiss almost made me tear my ears off, or its plot full of Deus Ex Machinas with concepts conveniently taken by Hideaki Anno from the place that his last name suggests; but the real reason I'm writing this is because I feel like these movies spit on everything the excellent original work represents.
Not only because as adaptations they fail miserably, but also because they retroactively damage the original work (we'll talk about that later).
Before I begin to explain why the rebuilds are bad adaptations, I want to warn that I am going to do a relatively exhaustive review of the 4 films, so this rant is going to be very long, like staying up late on a winter night with chronic insomnia. That said, let's start to see the reasons:
WHAT IS NEON GENESIS EVANGELION?:
To understand why rebuilds fail as remakes, I must first ask you, dear reader: What does Neon Genesis Evangelion mean to you? (it should at least be familiar to you, unless you've spent your life under a bridge) What do you think about when you read that title, apart from Shinji fucking in front of a comatose Asuka? What comes to mind when you hear the most famous opening in anime history, apart from Shinji strangling the otter against Happy Thursday's throat? (in more ways than one). If your answer is: "It's a mecha anime for emos with a coomer protagonist", that's fine, I respect that; but please press the red "X" in the top right corner of your screen, you can now leave.
Now, I'm going to get serious and explain my definition: Evangelion is a work about the hedgehog's dilemma and the difficulties of forming emotional bonds that human beings have, as well as the consequences of trying to separate from them for fear of rejection. It is not a story about heroes. It's not a story about saving the world. In Evangelion there are neither heroes nor villains, but rather a group of emotionally broken characters trying to be happy in a world just as broken as them. The real enemy of Evangelion is not the angels. It is the lack of communication and empathy.
https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dilema_del_erizo
It is that same lack of communication and empathy that progressively causes everything to go to hell to conclude with a cathartic and bleak ending, but consistent with the themes of the work. It is therefore an existentialist work about human relationships disguised as a mecha anime. This, added to a unique visual style, daring direction, and mechas like never before seen on television, made Evangelion one of the most influential anime in all of history, as well as a true commercial success for Gainax Studio. Success that encouraged other studios to carry out projects such as Cowboy Bebop or Serial Experiment Lain, taking anime towards a new golden age.
Even today you can hear the echoes of that Third Impact of End of Evangelion in 1997. The list of works influenced by Evangelion both inside and outside of Japan is endless. Of course, it is not a perfect work, nor extensive in errors: its target audience is ambiguous, many of the biblical references are more for decoration than anything else, and several aspects of the ending(s) could have been explained better. However, many of these errors can be attributed to a lack of time and budget during the production of the original anime (which was quite chaotic and improvised); therefore, they are understandable and forgivable.
In summary, we can conclude that Evangelion is a dark, introspective, provocative and unique work (at least at its time). This is also combined with a unique visual identity and complex characters whose relationships intertwine and interconnect throughout the work. The sum of all these factors is what led Evangelion to be such a critically acclaimed work that it transcended its own genre and became an icon of popular culture. And this in turn constitutes the biggest mistake of rebuilds; because they commit the biggest sin that an adaptation can commit: denying everything that made the original work great.
ADAPTING WITHOUT A CLEAR PURPOSE:
One of the biggest problems with these remakes (as well as a clear example of what I'm saying) is their total narrative inconsistency. Let me explain: the first rebuilds movie (1.11) is a literal copy-paste of the first 6 chapters of the original anime, with practically the same scenes, dialogues and even music. This makes the film completely redundant and unnecessary (and makes one wonder why it exists); But in any case, the message is being conveyed that the purpose of these remakes is to adapt the original series as faithfully as possible to the cinema with a current animation style.
However, the second movie (2.22) is a... something. A pastiche of new and old things where the plot broadly follows that of the original anime, but with many things changed (of course, for the worse) and a different ending. All this compressing no less than 14 chapters of the original anime into two and a half hours. Here the message that one can infer is that it seeks to adapt the original story (very briefly) by changing and rearranging certain elements, now more in line with what an adaptation is.
However, then we get to 3.33 and... well, after a 14-year because reasons timeskip, we're now in a post-post-apocalyptic world (repetition intended) where ex-Nerv members fight against Nerv itself. Nerv in giant spaceships, there are mechas everywhere, Misato is a sociopath, and Shinji and Asuka still look exactly the same because "DAMN JEBA." Here we can infer that what is sought is to create a totally new story and take it in different directions than the original. The following movie (3.0+1.01) is the only one that is consistent with this purpose.
Whether all these narrative pirouettes were planned in advance or not (clearly not), we can see that there is a clear incongruity between what is intended to be done and what is finally done. All of this generates a strong narrative chaos where the elements and themes of the original anime are mixed with the new ones, creating a total inconsistency. Since also in 3.0+1.01 it is revealed (unfortunately to me) that everything is part of the same universe and this is not really a remake, the excuse of "they are different universes, they don't have to be the same" doesn't work either.
In fact, one thing that you will see me comment a lot throughout this article is the lack of narrative consistency of these remakes, especially in comparison to the original work.
A HEDGEHOG WITHOUT TICKS:
No character in Evangelion better embodies the central theme of the work than Shinji Ikari, its own protagonist. Shinji is not a hero: he is not brave. He is not a genius. He is not charismatic. He is not selfless. He doesn't want to save the world. His reason for piloting the Eva is to gain recognition and appreciation from others; especially from his father, whom he hates, but at the same time admires; He feels that she despises him, but he also wants (and needs) that she loves him. Shinji spends the entire series in the dilemma between escaping from what hurts him (classic avoidance behavior) or accepting it and moving on, even at the risk of being hurt again.
This theme is rock solid throughout the entire original series: from the first to the last chapter of the anime, and from minute one to the very end of End of Evangelion. Even the opening itself makes several visual references to Shinji's hedgehog dilemma. This can make Shinji an infuriating character for audiences accustomed to typical anime protagonists; but it's those same things that make Shinji such a unique and special character. He deconstructs and subverts the hero's journey. And it's not as if this hinders the plot: Shinji is not proactive, but he also does not spend the series crying, as many often claim.
https://files.catbox.moe/eolho0.mp4
https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monomito
And as you may already be imagining, the Shinji of the rebuilds does not have a hedgehog's dilemma. Or rather, he has it, but only during the first movie (copy-paste of the original anime) and part of the second. This is a problem, because it creates a strong narrative inconsistency (again) where it seems that two Shinjis exist at the same time or that this one is bipolar. As of 3.33, Shinji's entire character arc is based on trying to redeem himself for his past mistakes first by unleashing "Almost Third Impact" (what a stupid name) and subsequently preventing Kaworu's death while trying to right said mistake.
Is this a bad thing? Not necessarily. The problem is that I have already seen the arc of the hero who fails to eventually rise up and succeed in 100 trillion works, while the hedgehog's dilemma in none more than in Evangelion (at least in my case). Which makes Shinji a much less interesting character. Some might argue that in 3.0 + 1.01 Shinji does have such a dilemma because he spends half the movie crawling on the ground; but there is not a hedgehog's dilemma, but rather depression for having seen Kaworu's head go KAWOOM (I know, the joke was very bad, but if he didn't do it, I would explode too).
End of Evangelion's Shinji did have such a dilemma because the reason for his depression was having been manipulated and used by someone he had previously opened up to and then forced to kill him, not for failing in his mission (in fact, he was very efficient in her mission to separate Kaworu's head from her body), which in turn brings sexual (and later, deadly) results for Asuka. I insist: narrative consistency. But this is not the worst: the worst thing is that at certain moments in these films, Shinji becomes the typical shonen savior hero, betraying the central point of his character in the original series.
https://youtu.be/E-x-f2OrWeA
A perfect example of this is the ending of 2.22, where the fight in chapter 19 (COINCENTLY from where the original anime starts to get more introspective) is transformed into a ridiculous shipping attempt, with Rei turned into a damsel in distress and Shinji into a savior hero while spouting all the typical cliché lines, topped off with a disgustingly cheesy ending. But of course, how could it end otherwise? With Shinji's Eva practicing cannibalism on Zeruel's corpse (the original scene)? Too disturbing for current times. Shinji and Rei fighting as a team to defeat him? Yes of course. Rei has enough not being in the kitchen. Besides, Asuka already takes care of that, hoping to receive her alpha male's cock as a reward.
https://youtu.be/TPS0Uk0TkP0
Because, like any good modern anime protagonist, Shinji now has a harem.
FETISHING WITHOUT CONTROL:
Of all the characters who are now part of Shinji's harem, the one who is most harmed by this is Rei (Asuka's case is different, and the other character is an infernal creation from Anno's sick mind). Not only because acting like a bitch in heat goes totally against her personality and because of the murky situation, considering that she is a clone of Shinji's mother, but also because her character is reduced to a mere fetish object that does things cute to produce tenderness in the viewer and make coomers buy their figurines.
Rei is an interesting character because he raises numerous existential questions based on the ship of Theseus paradox: the concept of identity, to what extent we can consider ourselves still ourselves, the construction and definition of a "self", etc. But here, her screen time piloting her Unit 00 is minimal (COINCENTLY most of it in 1.11) and her exploits are practically irrelevant or non-existent, also being reduced to a mere damsel in distress at the end of 2.22, as I said before.
https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paradoja_de_Teseo
In 3.0+1.01 he doesn't even get to pilot an Eva. Her role in the film is to cause pity and produce tenderness with her total ignorance (I see that the idiot Anno forgot that all the Reis are born with basic knowledge) while she is seen with different hairstyles, different outfits, working as a farmer, taking care of a baby, etc. In short, a fetish object where she wants the public to value her for how "moe" she is instead of for her abilities or as a character. In Anno's mind, feminism advances in reverse. Ironic, considering that it was precisely Rei who unintentionally started the moe culture.
Of course, it goes without saying that Rei is not the only one who suffers from this extreme fetishization of her character in these films. Under the excuse of paying homage to End of Evangelion, Asuka now always wears an eye patch (needless to say it has nothing to do with having been injured there), a cap with cat ears, in addition to having a very convenient trend for the coomer public of walking naked and semi-naked through other people's houses. She sometimes puts on the plugsuit, but near the end of the movie, it is conveniently torn off, lest we forget that this is made by the Japanese.
One of the best examples of how this hareminication has destroyed the main female characters is in the elevator scene. In the original anime, Rei tries to advise Asuka in a time of particular vulnerability and depression. Rei's limited social skills, coupled with Asuka being Asuka, cause her to misinterpret the attempt to help as mockery and an act of condescension, triggering a slap from her towards Rei and a worsening of her already strained relationship and Asuka's mental state. Rei doesn't fight back because she knows that doing so would only make things even worse.
It is an excellent dramatic scene because it once again brings to the foreground the hedgehog's dilemma and the difficulties between human relationships, very much in line with what Evangelion is. In 2.22, this scene is gratuitously introduced and turned into two horny bitches fighting over which of the two will let their alpha male penetrate first, with a highly OC Rei stopping the assault attempt in a 100% gangsta way to make her see more "cool." The scene doesn't even make plot sense, because Asuka at that moment is not even depressed, and in the original anime this occurs at a much later time under a very different context.
and speaking of asuka...
SOMEONE CALLED ASUKA:
When I started watching these movies, I was afraid that Asuka's character had undergone modifications to make her more "palatable" to new audiences. What took me completely by surprise was how radically different this Asuka is from the original. So different that they can't even be considered the same character. To show it very clearly, we are going to review the personality of both:
Asuka from the original anime: An energetic and outgoing half-German, half-Japanese girl (actually it's 1/4, but who cares) who loves to be the center of attention and have everyone praise her due to the lack of parental love received during her childhood having been abandoned by her father and supplanted by her mother, who suffered from severe mental disorders. She is extremely proud and competitive because she feels that being Eva's pilot is the only thing that gives her an identity and purpose, which makes her tend to become quickly frustrated when things don't go her way and become defensive when she feels like she is being outmaneuvered. . He loves to make fun of others (especially Shinji), to the point of being cruel at times, but he does not do it out of malice, but rather to compensate for his enormous inferiority complex due to the rejection suffered by his mother and having witnessed her. committed suicide (and possibly even tried to kill her) the day she was chosen as Eva's pilot and came running to wish her a Happy Thursday. She admires Kaji and wants to fuck him because she hates her own adolescence, she needs to feel adult and independent due to suffering from a certain Electra complex for having lacked a true father figure during her childhood. She has a sweet and vulnerable nature, but she rarely expresses it to anyone except her best friend Hikari and I better stop this now because too much text.
Rebuild Asuka (hereinafter "Asuka"): A girl soldier created by Nerv as part of a series of clones who has always been alone and thinks she doesn't need anyone, although she secretly wishes to have a family. She hits and insults others for no reason, she yells a lot, never smiles or makes jokes, and hates socializing with others, which doesn't stop her from looking for Shinji's dick within 2 days of meeting him. She always plays video games while someone is talking to her and at night she talks to herself with a doll like an autistic person.
As we can see, these two characters not only look nothing alike: several of their traits directly contradict each other. Because they look alike, they are not even alike in aesthetics: the original Asuka had red hair and dressed in the traditional feminine way, while "Asuka" is light brown and dresses in a tomboy style (which I'm not saying is wrong, I'm just commenting to show the radical difference). It's not that they have changed Asuka: it's that they have directly murdered her to supplant her by someone with whom she only shares her first name (not even her last name). And needless to say, the change has been VERY for the worse.
To describe the first character, I had to spend 15 damn lines, and even then I had to leave out many important facets of his personality, his development in the original series and his entire character arc in EoE, because if I didn't have one endless bible For the second, 6 lines were enough for me, and I could have had more left over if I had been more concise. The first character is a complex and three-dimensional character, with multiple facets, edges and layers. She feels like a real person. The second character is a generic tsundere that you can find in any mecha anime of the week. She is not even comparable to the first; She's not even a good character.
We cannot speak of Flanderization because not even the most basic traits of the character have been respected. Nor can we speak of a deconstruction because that same absence of basic traits means that there is no character construction on which to stand in the first place. Obviously, this change greatly resents the interactions between characters: the original Asuka was a charismatic and fun character with the ability to drive the plot on her own (as soon as she appears in chapter 8 of the original anime she is already changing the entire dynamic between characters) , while "Asuka" is mostly only in the background or to fight; He doesn't even have a character arc as such. In fact, in 2.22 he has even less screen time than several supporting characters.
His chemistry with Shinji is also non-existent (and I'm not just referring to the romantic level) and they barely have any development together. They like each other here because... ehhhh... she likes how he cooks and he thinks she's hot? It's not that the AsuShinji (or ShinSuka, or whatever the hell it's called) here is forced: it's just that it doesn't even make sense. The only reason people still ship them together is because they did it in the 90s. Yūko Miyamura's performance also feels very lackadaisical and lacks passion, which is quite unlike her. Although perhaps this is intentional, since her character always talks as if she has the spear of Longinus permanently stuck up her rectum. In fact, the few times she says her iconic "Anta baka?" This one feels very forced, in addition to not having her characteristic high-pitched tone.
In short, the character has suffered the same fetishization as Rei (gamer girl, tomboy, one-eyed, etc.), but also with the aggravating factor that not even her basic characteristics have been respected here. This is especially disconcerting when we take into account that the rest of the characters have their original personalities more or less intact (albeit simplified). Even more disconcerting if we take into account that Asuka is possibly the most popular character in all of Evangelion, and even more so if we consider that she is Anno's favorite character (in fact, the initial idea was for Asuka to be the protagonist).
https://evaresources.wordpress.com/der-mond/
Given this, the inevitable question arises: "Why?" What was the point of turning Asuka into an inferior and tsundere copy of Rei, even more so when there are already three clones? It has always been rumored that Asuka is not popular in Japan, but that is completely false. The only semi-rational explanation I can think of is that they did it to please the haters. It's no secret that a portion within the Evangelion fandom (and outside of it) hates Asuka with a passion. They see her as someone toxic and cruel who dedicates herself to screwing others for no reason, without understanding that you don't have to like a well-written character.
https://imgur.com/a/KznXE1x
What these people fail to understand is that Asuka's verbal abuse is a defense mechanism to avoid opening up to others, since Asuka constantly says things that do not fit with what she really feels or thinks (clear proof is chapter 16 from the original series). It's not like it matters much, considering they were never more than an extremely vocal minority. That the character is so popular is proof of this. The great irony of all this is that the new "Asuka" is a much more unpleasant and detestable character than the original, since she lacks the redeemable qualities of the original and her moments of comic relief.
And if until now I have been more or less benevolent with this remake, this is something I cannot forgive: because changing a character just because a group of people doesn't like it is one of the most cowardly and pathetic acts in the world. that a writer can fall. The fact that this was also at the expense of one of the best female characters in the history of anime and with a wonderful story arc makes it even more bloody. Any other halfway competent writer would have responded with this.
https://youtu.be/5Js0ea6yPKM
...although if we go by Ockham's razor, the most likely explanation is simply that Hideaki Anno is mentally retarded.
A CHARACTER TO DESTROY A FRANCHISE AND BIND IT TO DARKNESS:
Mari Makinami Illustrious A.K.A María Iskariote (what an appropriate last name) is one of the worst creations ever made by humans. Not since the atomic bombs has humanity created something so horrible. Worse than the holocaust. Worse than fascism. Worse than Facebook memes. Worse than stepping on a lego. I would even dare to say that it is worse than pizza with pineapple. No character better reflects Anno's mental decline or better embodies all the problems of the current anime industry than this trash.
This character contributes absolutely nothing to the plot, he does not contribute at any time to its advancement, he lacks his own development or story, he does absolutely nothing relevant in the 3 films in which he appears, and he does not even have a defined personality. So much so, that all of her scenes could be eliminated or replaced by any other character and she would barely affect the plot, or not affect it at all.
The character is so frighteningly one-dimensional that she doesn't even show different emotions or moods during the three films in which she appears, always being perpetually happy and carefree even in tense situations for literally no reason. This leads to moments as surreal as her starting to sing and hum in scenes that are intended to be serious or dramatic (or so I think; perhaps what they wanted was to turn this into an unintentional comedy), again generating a gigantic narrative dissonance. The last third of 3.33 is the best example of this.
But that's not the worst: this character is clearly made for otaku coomers to masturbate to. She has almost every fetish possible: glasses/lenses (whatever they call it in your country), pigtails, miniskirt, schoolgirl, saying "nya", big tits, obsession with smell and tight outfits, etc. To make matters worse in 3.0 + 1.01 we discover that she is 48 years old, so we can also add the milf fetish. Evidently, her tits always bounce in her plugsuit (she would swear that never happened in the original series) and there are many close-ups of her ass. In addition to constantly making sexual advances towards Shinji, which also turns this piece of shit into a potential pedophile.
If the thing simply ended there, we could say that this character remains a mere annoying and unnecessary secondary character. Unfortunately, the character is also disruptive to the plot, occupying long filler scenes that do nothing more than waste time that is already scarce in a film, and that could have been used on something else more interesting; like Pen Pen watching TV, Pen Pen eating a sardine, etc. Without going any further, both 2.22, 3.33 and 3.0+1.01 begin with a long filler scene of her hitting on her. Well, to be honest, the 3.33 one is more Asuka, but this abortion is still out there fucking and singing.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that discussing why this character exists is much more interesting than any other debate that can be created about these films. I still think about it. However, the ending of 3.0+1.01 gives a good clue: the character was created solely and exclusively to stay with Shinji. I can only imagine that Anno made this tired of the fandom shipping and the arguments over who Shinji should stay with, so he decided to end the matter by creating his own ideal waifu with all the fetishes he likes in a woman to end it. with this. It's disgusting, but considering we're talking about a Japanese, totally possible.
It's surreal coming from the man who harshly criticized the use of anime as escapism and the excessive female objectification and sexualization in it, but it's the only semi-decent explanation I can think of. Basically, he is what is called a mascot character in literature. That would explain why this character never shows doubts, nor any kind of internal conflict, or why he is a better Eva pilot than Asuka and Rei themselves. It is also very revealing about the quality of the Rebuilds: creating a self-insert OC just to be the partner of the protagonist or another main character is the quintessential trait of all bad fanfiction.
However, among all this tsunami of disqualifications, I also have to say something positive: spending three movies giving hope to the shippers only to have Shinji be cuckolded simultaneously by Rei and Asuka in the last one and end up with a character with which had zero development (before 3.0+1.01 I didn't even know its name) is a true trolling masterclass, worthy of the best of ball pumpers. Only a true emperor of evil would have come up with such a twisted and at the same time perfect way to screw over a large part of the fandom. I give you my tens, Anno.
THE ANTI-UNIVERSE OF ANTI-NARRATIVE:
Of all the new concepts that Anno brings up at the last minute from the place named after his last name, none stands out more than the "anti-universe." Or, as I like to call it, the "anti-good writing." Basically because it perfectly represents all the problems of the rebuilds and their script. In the final stretch of 3.0+1.01 we have the last-minute revelation of a quantum plane of existence capable of turning imagined worlds into reality and changing this through Lilith, which cannot be understood by the human mind (wow, WHAT CONVENIENT!) and whose existence has never been mentioned or even hinted at in the entire franchise until CONCIDENTLY the aforementioned last third of the film.
In other words, a gigantic Deus Ex Machina created in an improvised way to avoid repeating End of Evangelion and forcing a happy ending where Shinji creates an ideal universe for each character (although that is questionable, as we will see later). And it is far from being the only one: the spear of Cassius, the Eva of Infinity, the key of Nebuchadnezzar, the Book of Life, and so on. None of these concepts are integrated into the plot in an organic and natural way, but rather they arise spontaneously at its convenience when it needs it. Except for the new "Super Berserker Mode" of the Evas, which is simply a power-up to sell figurines.
As I said before, if at least this were an alternate universe separate from the original anime, all this bombardment of concepts pulled out of the ass would be a little better justified. But the revelation that everything is a cycle and we are in the same universe as the original work only makes it even worse, generating countless inconsistencies about why they never mentioned this or never used that (what's the point of the seeds of life If you can create universes simply by imagining them?). Although without a doubt, the worst of all these new concepts is "the curse of Eve."
Here we have a new concept with very strong repercussions completely launched, which is not even an explanation in itself, it does not answer anything and to make matters worse, the same films contradict each other several times. Needless to say, this is a cheap excuse for the three main characters not to grow up and continue sexualizing 14-year-old girls after the most gratuitous timeskip ever seen. And speaking of timeskip, putting such a long one in the middle of the story is a first-time writing error. If you are writers, never do that: the bigger the time jump, the more things you will be forced to explain, since the less you do it, the more plot holes will form as a result.
And of course, here it explains little to nothing of what happened these 14 years. Like where Nerv got such a tremendous base from, if in 3.33 it seemed that together with Rei and Kaworu it was made up of four people. Or how they have gotten such an army of pseudo-Evas, especially when these are supposed to be extremely expensive (wow, and SEELE with all her unlimited resources was barely 9 in EoE). Or worse yet, how Kaji managed to stop Almost Third Impact (seriously, the name couldn't be stupider). None of these questions are answered at any time. Obviously because they can't do it.
Evangelion has always been characterized by leaving things up to the public's interpretation, but here I feel that they are vilely taking advantage of it so as not to have to give any kind of explanations. And in the case at hand, do not even pay attention to contradictions. Like Touji and Kensuke got on Unit 01 and that doesn't stop them from being 28 after the timeskip. Or that Mari appears to be 14 despite looking like an adult in Gendo's photos and flashbacks, plus the fact that Evas, by simple logic, could not exist back then.
The height of absurdity is when near the end of 3.0+1.01 the "unexpected" revelation occurs (actually we all saw it coming) that everything is a cycle and we are facing a reboot of the original timeline, of which only Kaworu seems to be conscious. He let them guess without giving them any clues how many times Kaworu mentioned or even hinted at such a thing in the original series. Needless to say, nothing is ever explained about it: Who created that cycle? (Adam? Lilith? The First Ancestral Race? Hideaki Anno's last name?) For what purpose? How does it work? How long does it last? Why is Kaworu the only one who remembers him? Do these remakes make sense?
THE DEATH OF A STYLE:
Fortress-cities folding in on themselves. Designs and constructions oscillating between the nineties, the utopian and the cyberpunk. Meshes of flesh and blood animated with the souls of the dead fighting with classical music in the background. A mysterious and ambiguous lore where aliens, technology and conspiracies mix with gnostic, cabalistic elements and the most esoteric aspects of Christianity (did the History Channel predict Evangelion?). Minimalist posters moving quickly between frames. Monochrome backgrounds flashing aggressively (bad luck if you were epileptic). So consistent with its themes that the A.T. fields themselves. They were an allegory of the hedgehog's dilemma (I'm not making this up, Kaworu himself says it in chapter 23).
https://imgur.com/a/2M0eDVK
The sum of all these factors is what allowed Evangelion to build an absolutely unique identity, the one that allowed people to say "hey, that's an Eva!". Starting in 3.33, all that is lost to disappear in 3.0+1.01 in favor of giant spaceships, mechanical mechas made of pure CGI, battles full of colored lights, multiverses and time loops. I'm not saying these elements are bad in and of themselves, but I've already seen a thousand mecha stories with these. For that, I start watching any of the versions of Gundam or Macross. I could also complain about the boring shots without audiovisual language and always using the same color palette, but to be fair, that is an endemic evil of current anime.
And like any bad remake, 3.0+1.01 can't help but pay homage to several scenes from the original work, completely failing to understand the point of said scenes. As an example, we have Ritsuko shooting Gendo for no reason other than to pay homage to End of Evangelion, ignoring that the context between both scenes is very different. Furthermore, here they never explain the relationship that exists between the two, so the scene makes no sense; especially for those who never saw the original series, who will also find mentions of facts that these films have never shown or bothered to explain.
Even worse is when they try to pay homage to the iconic battle between Asuka and the Eva Series. Not only because of the total absence of the graphic violence and choreography of the original, but because what makes that fight so remembered is its emotional component, since it is preceded by a narrative catharsis in which Asuka discovers that the Her mother's soul was always in Unit 02, in addition to being marked by the constant tension of knowing if she will be able to finish the fight before the Eva's energy supply runs out. Here the Evas never run out of energy (why do they need the power supply, then?), so there is no such tension.
In the original fight Asuka may not be shooting 1387945 Evas with a super cannon larger than her as she falls through an... interdimensional hole?; But there you feel every blow, you can appreciate every movement in detail, and the dramatic tension in crescendo only improves the result. If this were a shonen, the logical thing is that Asuka would win. After all, her character arc has been wrapped up in a climactic way. Unfortunately, this is Evangelion. When the Evas Series manage to cause a mortal wound with the pseudo-spear of Longinus and the energy counter reads zero, the outcome is already decided. What happens next is horrific (Asuka's enemies are cruel to her even after she is dead), and just as horrifying are Yūko Miyamura's screams and Miki Nagasawa's performance as Maya announcing that Asuka is dead. In the Rebuilds there are no performances anywhere near that level.
End of Evangelion will be as dark and uncomfortable to watch as you want, but it is a film where all those responsible put their souls into achieving the best possible result, both on a technical and artistic level.
and well, I think that for today I have already downloaded too much, an apology for the large amount of text, I will make a second part at another time because I have so many things to comment on... anyway, I hope you have a good day/afternoon/night or when you read this .

This is the first chapter of a story I am writing. It is written in the style of an old folk tale. The whole story won't be written in this tone, but I wanted to gauge if it was effective in making you want to continue reading:
In the heart of a city lies a forest where the boundary between worlds grows thin. To the people in the city, it is a place of solace, an escape from the relentless demands of their lives.
But those who listen to the whispers of the leaves against their skin cross the threshold into the forgotten promise, where olden spirits lay.
Into this wood ventured a young woman, pulled by a force she could not define. The trees parted before her, guiding her steps to a glade with the light of the Tír na nÔg.
There, in the heart of the grove, she encountered a man who was carved from the fabric of the forest. Tall and powerful he was, with eyes of ancient stones and hair that was a cascading stream. His voice was the rustle of leaves, the murmur of a brook.
Though his appearance was unusual, the woman felt no fear. In his gaze, she saw a flicker of recognition, a connection that ran deep into her soul. With each visit to the glade, their bond strengthened, intertwining like roots beneath the soil.
As the seasons shifted, the woman discovered she was with child, and in the gentle rain of the glade, they celebrated, their joy radiant and all-encompassing. But grief, too, was their portion, for the infant, born too early, slipped from the world before the first breath. In the depths of his cave, where the heart of the forest pulsed like a living entity, the man laid the tiny form to rest, and together they mourned, their sorrow woven through the trees. Time turned, and once more, they were visited by the same sorrow, as a second child was lost before it could draw its third breath.
The woman's brother, a man of the city, had long noticed a change in her—a distant look in her eyes. Though she seemed content, there was an otherness about her that unsettled him, a sense that she was slipping away into a world he could not understand. He feared her swayed by the River Folk to cross into Fomóraigh.
One day, fear drove him to follow his sister into the forest, his footsteps masked by the rustling of the leaves. He followed for hours, deeper and deeper, until he reached the glade and saw his sister go to the strange man.
Terror and rage surged within him, and he called out, his voice shattering the stillness of the grove, demanding that she step away from the creature. But she, caught between two worlds, could not comply. The brother, seeing her not depart, believed the Gentry held her prisoner.
The brother recalled a story their mother had told them. With a steady voice, he uttered a riddle, and the man, compelled by hospitality woven into the fabric of the forest, turned his attention to its unraveling. In that moment, the brother struck.
The man fell, his form shifting, revealing his true nature— Tuatha Dé Danann, a spirit of the wild, child of Fótla. The woman cradled her fallen love as her brother knelt in the moss, recognizing that he had profaned the soil of the grove.
A year and a day passed, and the woman returned to the glade, drawn by a bond that defies breaking. Where her love once stood and then lay, a great tree had risen up, its bark warm beneath her touch. And there, in the stillness of the grove, the Tuatha Dé Danann granted her his third breath.

So I tried the new voice feature of the 4o model. I wanted to try the translation mode. I asked, in English, if it can translate to other languages.
And then it promptly said yes, and proceeded to talk to me in my mother tongue. I have never interacted with it through my native language, nor have I ever specified where I am from.
Only some time ago when I was writing a cover letter for a job and gave it for type checking, it contained the information of my alma mater, from which it could infer from which country I am from.
My email is in .com form, and I pay the account with an overseas credit card.
The conversation was brand new, no previous prompts. When I asked afterwards, it said that it did it because I spoke the language first, then I said no and to recheck, it rechecked and said, "oh you are right, my mistake. Do you want to discuss about anything else?".
I found this very weird. My native language is not widely spoken, it couldn't have been a guess.

TW: really bad verbal abuse, proceed with caution
I sympathize with any busty friend out there who has gone through any kind of mistreatment and don't intend to participate in oppression olympics. However, I want to talk about what it's like having big boobs growing up in Bangladesh as every foreign national I've told about it has been shocked by how bad it truly is. I'm assuming it's similar in Pakistan and some regions of India too, and some diaspora communities worldwide. I put the advice welcome flair not because I'm looking for advice but if anyone has any then I wouldn't mind either.
First of, small or big you are expected to always cover your boobs in a long scarf known as a dupatta/orna. If you don't, even in shapeless clothing, you get slut-shamed. Even a sleeveless top or the slightest bit of cleavage is considered inappropriate or slutty. No form-fitting clothes are considered appropriate either. Oh and no Western clothes either.
I was only around 10 years old when I started facing policing for my own body. Not only could I not leave the house without a scarf but I was also always expected to wear them at home because I have a father and brother. I wasn't even allowed to wear things like t-shirts at home, I had one aunt defend me on it once but otherwise I've been pretty much policed about it all my life.
There is also a prevalent myth back home that boobs get big if you touch/fondle them and I was very well-aware of that because I'd hear my own classmates scrutinize other girls' bodies and knew damn well that's what they did to me behind my back too. I did wear some athletic clothing (T-shirt and joggers mainly) when I exercised, and once when I was out on an evening jog with my father I had this lady clad in burka approaching me and asking if I'm Muslim, how old I am, that I am old enough to cover up more. When that was the ONLY time I didn't wear traditional clothes with a scarf over my chest.
Bra shopping is a nightmare for anyone, they only go by your bust measurement and use that as your... band size. Seriously. When I flew to the West for college one of the things I looked forward to was being able to buy a bra that fits... only to discover that even the mainstream brands here don't sell my size and there is only ONE lingerie store in my town that carries my size (30GG/H UK).
I am beginning to gain some more confidence about my body and dressing in clothes that fit and flatter me here. That all went out the window again when I visited home (twice so far). First time I went, I was shopping and bought this beautiful silk top that looked great with jeans. My mother already hated it, she never bought me anything in silky material and a week later or so blew up on me and said that people will shame me if I leave the house like this, the neighbors will see me and talk about it. That if I'm gonna go out dressing like that then I should never come back home. She remarked on the outfit I was wearing at the airport that "people don't even wipe their a** with what you were wearing!"
My only reason to travel home that time was because my mother was sick and receiving medical treatment, the fact that she could say that to me after I haven't seen them for almost a year got me crying and calling my father on phone, telling him that I'm going back to Canada ASAP and never returning home.
The second time I got comments from her was when I was home again for a family wedding. I had a gorgeous sequin saree with a sequin crop top, I got so many compliments and great photos on that day (and a lot of attention too because so many people attending the wedding haven't seen me in over a year, I left during the pandemic so didn't have a proper farewell). I bought the top myself and it was form-fitting but not too tight. My mom still made comments on how she hated seeing me in that on the wedding day and will get me something better (as if I had time between my exams and catching a flight soon afterwards and doing some last-minute shopping!)
It's not even like I ever wanted to rebel and go out in miniskirts, but given how I get scrutinized over the littlest of things I wish I kinda rebelled like that so that as as adult they would at least leave me alone. The day my mom blew up on me I was thinking as soon as I land back in Canada I'm buying the skimpiest mini dress I can find and I'll wear it on my next night out (I didn't do it, don't plan to, it was just a thought). I lived with this internal conflict all my life: I wanted to wear a lot of cute stuff (not necessarily revealing) but every thought was followed by my mom yelling at me in my mind.
I'm fine with people not liking how I dressed. I just wish it wasn't tied to my character or the honor of my family or whatever other BS. My older sister is even stricter with clothing than my mom in some ways. I don't think people care half as much as my family does and even if they did it shouldn't be our problem, people will find something to talk about if they want to. I've talked about this standard of modesty with my hijabi friends from the Middle East and even they couldn't believe it despite coming from countries like Saudi Arabia. It's very much a South Asia thing.
And my parents wonder why I have been refusing to visit home. It's not that I'm not homesick and don't miss my family and friends but I'm so tired of the verbal abuse and control.

I, (18F) moved in with my boyfriend (19M) a couple of months after I turned 18, and my parents were furious and hurt. There’s a lot to unpack with this one, so bear with me.
My parents (40F and 42M) are very religious and were somewhat strict while I was growing up. I have two younger brothers, one 17 and one 8 (this will be important later). For context, my father is a pastor at a local church and my parent’s religious beliefs are the reasoning behind most if not all of their actions. Growing up, I was never a stereotypical girl. I didn’t have many female friends and was usually not accepted in groups with guys as I was a girl and we were kids. I was extroverted as a child but due to being repeatedly rejected by kids my age, I became more introverted. I was a major nerd who loved superheroes and I wanted to play sports. Again, for context, the town I grew up in was very conservative and my parents are very conservative themselves. Girls liked girl things- even if they claimed that’s not how they felt, it’s how they acted. However, as a kid, I did not realize this. I played soccer and basketball growing up, regardless of how “weird” it made me because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. I was probably around 9 or 10 at this point. It was around this time my parents started having issues with my hobbies. I remember my parents trying to convince me to be a cheerleader because I would “like it more,” but I insisted on playing basketball. (This basketball/cheer program was through our church by the way). Because I was still young, they let it slide, but to this day I remember them being annoyed with it. This is also around the time dieting was introduced to me as well as calorie counting. I have always struggled with my weight and so has my mother, so they were very adamant on making sure I was being “healthy.” I didn’t understand it, but as a child, the only thing I was worried about was making my parents happy. A lot of discipline I received revolved around emotion. What I was doing was right or wrong and if I did something wrong, I felt terrible and awful and would often come crying to my parents about the mistakes I made, fearful of their disappointment and anger if they found things out themselves. They also made everything a moral dilemma- everything was about God and religion and as a kid, it really messed with my head. I would blame myself for everything that went wrong, seeing it as God’s punishment for my behavior. When I was 9, I went so far as to blame my grandmother’s death on myself because I was hanging out with boys instead of girls. This made me to be more of an introvert and my now anxiety disorder is much much worse.
About a year later, my parents sat down with me and my brother and told us they wanted to adopt. At first, I was very excited. I loved the idea of having another brother or sister. And I wouldn’t trade my 8 year old brother (let’s call him Scott) for anything, but adopting kids is part of what triggered a huge change in my parent’s behavior. Also- I had started getting older. I loved playing video games, watching cartoons and writing. However, these weren’t the things they wanted me to like I guess, because I started to feel their judgment become more clear and apparent as I got older. Now, I assume this is because as a kid, I just did what I was told, or my oddities were assumed to fade over time, but that is not the case anymore. Anyways, entering middle school, our family fostered a little girl, let’s call her Ally. A young woman in our church had told us that Ally’s family was out of the picture, and as her aunt, she couldn’t take her in as she was already a single mom and planned on adopting her brother, but couldn’t handle all three alone. So my family stepped in- however, we had come to find that her father was still in the picture and was actively fighting for custody. And Ally was a bit of a handful. My parents have admitted that they expected to swoop in, save a child from a hard life and be the heroes, and when things were harder than that they were very upset. Ally was about three- she remembered her mom (who was in jail i believe), her sisters, her grandma and grandpa, as well as her dad. She didn’t want our family, she wanted hers. She didn’t listen to my parents and rejected their parenting. This is what started to make my parents snap. I understand it was hard for them, but now that I’m older, I get it. She was a little girl who wanted her family. But they took her rejection very seriously and were constantly unhappy with her and made sure she knew it. Children not listening immediately was newer to them as my brother and I both did pretty much whatever they asked, and they did not take well to being told “no” by a child. 8 months after living with Ally, she was taken in by her grandparents to live with them and her sisters. The next day, my parents took my brother and I on a small trip. I’m not sure if it was to cheer us up or to celebrate. I was quite sad though- I had started to really care about Ally and had convinced myself that “God would take care of things” and I would have a sister. But I was angry- God took someone away from me and I was doing everything right. Why was he punishing me? Nothing made sense. Yet, only a year later, my parents were considering taking in another child. I wanted nothing to do with it- God had already taken one sibling away from me. I couldn’t do it again. In the end, I agreed and soon became attached to this little boy, who was two when we met him. This was Scott. I immediately became attached- and I love this kid more than I can describe- he’s my little brother and I would do anything for him.
This is where things start to go further downhill. Scott has a lot of trauma and mental issues, one of those issues being oppositional defiant disorder. That basically means that listening to any form of authority is near impossible for him, and causes him to lash out and act younger than he is. This is probably due to a number of reasons, as he was severely neglected and abused as an infant and his birth mother was on several different substances while pregnant with him, to the point where he was born high on several illegal drugs. He was left in a car seat for most of his infant life, so the back of his head is slightly flattened due to this. My parents are very obedient/disciplined-based parents, so his behavior rocked their world. In my opinion, the way they handled things with Scott was borderline abusive. There were several occasions where he would say he hated them (as young children do when they're mad) and they would flip. Telling him that if he didn’t want them that was fine. They didn’t need him. He could run back to his other parents, but his mom was in jail and his dad didn’t want him, so good luck with that. If we were in the car when this happened, they would threaten to leave him on the side of the road and good luck finding his way home. Once my mother literally pulled to the side of the road, placed him outside the car and started driving so he would “think they would leave him if his actions didn’t change,” but she turned around to get him. Because they would “never actually abandon or hurt him,” their actions were justified and perfectly fine. They would tell him he was acting like a baby when he started to cry and scream. “Little baby Scott, do you need a diaper?” Is how they would tease him when he became older, which just made his tantrums worse. They would tell him how disappointed they were with him and that he should be ashamed of himself and the way he acted because they gave him everything. They would call him, to his face, “an ungrateful manipulative piece of shit.” Because according to my parents, he could control his actions 100% and was choosing to act out to make their lives difficult. While I understand that this was hard for them, in my opinion, this in no way excuses their behavior. One time, Scott was crying and was upset (who knows why, but the kid had a lot of trauma and mental issues so it didn’t bother me too much), and my mother picked him up and put him in his room. She told him that every time he tried to leave his room, she would take away one of his stuffed animals. (He had several that he loved very much). Because this sounded so terrible to him, he ran after her trying to say it wasn’t fair. So she went into his room and took a stuffed animal. This cycle continued while he cried and begged for her to stop, because he just didn’t get it that she was going to keep doing this over and over and his trying to convince her was making it worse. Eventually, there were none left, and she told him if he didn’t stop crying she was going to throw them all away. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do know that several of them were thrown away, if not at that time than others. There are many other instances of things like this and worse occurring, but we’d be here for a while if I tried to recount them all. Moving forwards to closer when I was moving out-
Now, several years later, when I turned sixteen, I had come to terms with the fact that I was bisexual. This went against everything my family was for, and I knew exactly how they viewed queer people. So, I started learning about different branches of Christianity and felt like I knew a God who loved me as I was and was happy in my decision to switch denominations. (My parents were baptists, and I wanted to be non-denominational). A few months after this, I decided to tell my parents the truth. I had done my best to give them hints, but I wanted to be honest with them because I trusted that they would love me and be there for me no matter what. When I told them I wanted to talk to them about something, they pushed and pressed and I had been trying to wait to talk to them until the next day. I had been seeing my high school counselor, and she suggested giving them a heads-up before springing that conversation up on them. However, after telling them to wait, they went through my phone and saw that I had researched different denominations and read different sermons on queer-accepting faith. They were livid. To be clear- I had a friend over while this was happening. We were watching a movie and joking about how I lost my phone and couldn’t show them this picture I wanted to. Then, I was called upstairs. I had apparently betrayed my parents and, “how could I do this to them, when I had someone over?” My father demanded I send my friend home, but my mother convinced him for one more hour. I was told not to tell my friend anything they had said and to act like things were fine, but I couldn’t. I went back downstairs where we were hanging out and started sobbing. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. Everything was over- and the people I thought would love me no matter what made me so afraid and sad, I was completely broken. My friend did their best to comfort me and even felt weary to leave me alone with my family but I told them I’d be okay, and asked that they update our friends about the situation. That night was hellish. So many conversations, them trying to understand what I felt, but not taking me particularly seriously either. That night turned into weeks of books, slideshows, conversations, and prayers. It felt like at-home conversion therapy. Eventually, I was given a choice “put my convictional flag in the ground or loose their trust.” As the petrified 16 year old, I chose to lie. I put my “flag” in the ground and did my best to, “earn back their trust” and repair their reputation that I had tarnished. The next couple months were a blur. I felt so terrible about myself. I didn’t know what I thought or believed and I became extremely hyper anxious and depressed. I had lost all sense of privacy and I did trust my parents further than I could toss them. My 17 year old brother (he was 14 at the time, let’s call him James) was 100% on board with my parents. My life felt like a living nightmare. My parents had it so that all my texts sent or received from my phone would go directly to theirs, so I couldn’t even confide in my friends without getting into trouble (which had happened and was how I found out that they did that because I deleted the texts immediately after sending/receiving things).. Everything felt like it was about me and how I needed to earn back their trust and how I was a terrible betrayer who they were not proud of in the slightest. I had gone to get a pixie cut (with their approval) and after they told me I was disgusting and repulsive and would never find a man to love me. I was heartbroken and felt so alone and unloved in my house, while I had to watch my younger brother be treated the way he was by my parents.
Luckily, I had a lot of friends and our school counselor who had been there for me through everything. They showered me with support and love and made sure I had a safe space to exist and truthfully I think they’re the only reason I didn’t do anything drastic and am still here today. It was hard though because James went to the same school as me and would tell my parents if I was with anyone he knew was queer or queer accepting. This caused me to be very very paranoid about who I was with, when, where, etc. Constantly covering my tracks, having an excuse set up and ready to bolt if I saw anyone I knew. What made things equally hard is that the church my father works at is quite big in our area. So if someone from our church or someone who knew my family saw me with anyone they labeled as “queer” or “gay,” they would tell my family as well. For the most part, I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was constantly alert and on guard, even when I was asleep as my parents had woken me up before to confront me about someone I was friends with at school.
Fortunately for me, despite everything being such a mess, I am quite academically smart. I got a job the second I turned sixteen as I had heard the horror stories of queer kids being kicked out and wanted to be prepared. I had been saving money, taking college classes (we have a state program that pays for the classes while you’re in high school), and putting on a show for my family for quite some time. After saving some money, I paid my parents for an older car that they had paid off ten or so years ago. After my brother turned 16, he claimed it was too hard to share a car with me, so while I was away visiting a friend they bought him a car and told us that they expected each of us to pay them one thousand dollars before we graduated high school and that when we did so, they would sign over our respective cars to us. To be clear, I contributed to insurance and paid for my own gas, as well as contributing to my phone bill and money for food. Meanwhile, my brother had no job, and was constantly asking my parents for money to go out with friends. He had also taken up golfing, which as most people know is extremely expensive, and my parents funded everything. James had actually admitted to asking for more money than he needed and save the leftovers for whatever he wanted. I was also expected to chauffeur him to golf events and to get togethers with his friends, and my parents would in return give me some gas money. Another thing to note is that the only reason I was contributing to our phone bill is because James wanted unlimited data and my father said it was unreasonable unless we both contributed financially. I refused as I was trying to save money (as I would have with the car situation), however things per normal went James’s way. However, because he did not have a job, he was not expected to pay anything and would not be charged for the months and years that he did not contribute to. I did my best not to let these things get to me and to keep a level head. I paid my parents for the car because I already had over two thousand dollars saved as a seventeen year old high school student due to my hard work.
I focused on my classes and joined theater to help fill the hours in between school and work. I was much more active my sophomore year but when James also decided to join theater I retreated a bit as my once safe space to freely exist was no longer safe. I joined the stage crew but honestly that was also very enjoyable and lethargic for me and I enjoyed it a lot. Anyways, I was mostly a straight A student besides the stray Bs and one or two Cs (psychology and AP government screwed me over) and was working 15 or so hours a week. This is on top of my commitments to the church which were most of my Sundays and my Wednesday evenings. The funny thing is though- James missed more church than I ever did yet because my absence was because of work and not golf, I was the one consistently reprimanded for my lack of attendance and socialization whilst I was there. Yet because James could never do anything wrong and was a very extroverted person his lack of attendance wasn’t as serious as my own. I had one close friend through our church, let’s call her Grace (now 18F) and she actually knew about everything and was very supportive of me. I also had some other friends who really only showed up to church so I didn’t have to go through the torture alone which I don’t know if I could ever repay them for. Besides the people I was comfortable with though, I was pretty much a loner there and this heavily displeased my parents as it made them look bad and messed with their reputation. I never realized how much appearances meant to them until all of the shit that happened took place. As I mentioned before, our church is very conservative and traditional, and many sermons and lessons revolved around gender roles and the sinfulness of the world in terms fo the LGBTQ community. I consistently felt targeted because of my looks and my personality and stopped feeling comfortable there a very long time ago.
Now that more context is in place, fast forward to the end of my junior year. I had at this point finished all my high school requirements for graduation and was given an incredible opportunity to go to our local college full time for my senior year. I was very excited and happy because not only did it give me more freedom but it also meant I would get more than a year of my college education paid for by the state.
It was also around this time when I met my now boyfriend, let’s call him Dean. We were coworkers and had begun to get to know each other. We had a lot in common and while were different people personality wise, we enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. By some miracle, I convinced my parents to allow me to hang out with him outside of work by claiming he was just a friend and saying that he was a Christian (which is by no means true). They were extremely skeptical but allowed us to hang out. We had an incredible time- and by the end of our first date he asked me to be his girlfriend which I happily accepted. I was so happy, but when I got home, things spiraled out of control. I told my parents about our time, and they were extremely unhappy as they felt fooled (which they were to be fair) and told me I was not allowed to see him ever again. I was devastated and they said a lot of very uncalled for things and but I understand why they were angry. To be clear, they knew I had a romantic interest in Dean and that this hangout was to see if we would be compatible partners and get to know each other better. They did not call it a date though because they weren’t comfortable with it, even if it was a date and they kinda knew it. So while they were on some level “fooled,” I feel that their anger and harshness wasn’t called for as they knew the intentions of our hanging out. The next morning my father demanded to see my phone. This is when I started to panic. You see, they had stop tracking my texts and I had openly flirted with Dean over text. Nothing that explicit and no photos of any kind. But the flirting would be enough for them to tear my world apart and I knew it. They had gone through my personal conversations before and made me feel terrible because of it and I refused to let them do it again. So I deleted everything. The entire conversation chain, I removed it from my phone 100%. My parents absolutely lost their shit. They had been manipulating and gaslighting me for years, doing anything and everything to keep their control and with my actions I showed them they couldn’t control me forever and things went very downhill. I lost all my privacy and was once again told how I had betrayed them and I was terrible and couldn’t be trusted. Again- I partially understand their anger here because I had directly disobeyed a command. But at the same time, I feel as a young woman I should be allowed some sense of privacy and the ability to talk to people without being constantly monitored. I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and would happily do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I’d be where I am today. Regardless of this, my life became a living hell once again, and my parents compared this to when I came out, “which was maybe the worst night of their lives.” They stripped me of all my privileges even if I didn’t have many to begin with. They made me feel absolutely miserable and awful about myself and I was monitored like never before. I would be working and receive texts upon texts of how I was so terrible and how could I do this to them because they had done everything for me and I’m a terrible daughter who should be ashamed of myself for the deceit and malicious nature of my actions. Again- this was because they could not read the messages between me and my now boyfriend. I understand them being mad but they took it to a completely inappropriate level. I shared everything happening with my friends and counselor and they supported me and assured me I did nothing wrong and they would be there for me which helped but as my home was now a living hellscape it was hard to hear it. I found a way to tell Dean about things and at first he felt guilty but I assured him that their actions were not his fault but theirs. He then asked me if I wanted to pause our relationship but I told him honestly that they had taken so many things I cared about over the years and I refused to let them take this. I did tell him however I understood if he didn’t want to put up with all the complicatedness of my family but he told me he cared for me and would be there so long as I was okay with it. He also told me if things ever got really bad at home, regardless of the fact we had just started dating, he had spoken to his family and they offered me a place to stay if I needed/wanted it. This really touched me, but I reassured him that it was not his job to offer that, but I appreciated the offer.
This begins our relationship and we were very happy. We had found a way to communicate over email, and we were able to hide our relationship with my family. Luckily for me, over the years I had made a habit of hanging out at the park by myself so it was not strange for me to head to the park for a couple of hours. There, I would leave my car and phone (my phone had a tracker on it) and Dean and I would hangout multiple times a week and it was heaven. At this point, we’ve only been dating for a year but I can admit without any doubt that I am in love with this man and he is in love with me. During the school year, it became easier for us to hang out in between classes as we both went to the same college (I am older for my year in school and he is younger, so he was a sophomore in college while I was a senior in high school. However, we are barely a year apart in age for anyone who is concerned). However, in order for us to communicate and hang out, I had to be extremely diligent and was consistently covering my tracks while “once again, earning my parents trust and repairing our relationship.” Because of course their actions were completely justified and I was the one in the wrong, per normal. Anyways, every day, I was editing search histories, erasing messages, and looking over my shoulder. Our church had a program on campus where Dean and I went to school, so being together in public was risky as my father’s friends and coworkers were always on campus and I knew I would be screwed if we were caught together. We had a couple of close calls over the months but it was all worth it because I hadn’t been that happy in years.
Now, to the day I left and why. You see, my parents' behavior towards Scott was becoming more aggressive and worse over time. They also had, in my opinion, a drinking problem. Considering they didn’t deny it when I called them out, they may agree. They would behave more hostile after several drinks and it was happening so consistently I was constantly walking on eggshells. Between the way they treated Scott, the way they treated me and the constant stress I was under trying to balance my life in fear of the repercussions, things became too much. When things weren’t going to shit, I was consistently expected to either babysit my brother and do chores while being a full time college student and working a part time job WHILE attending church multiple times a week and keeping up with my responsibilities as a senior. This is on top of the stress my parents' behavior caused, meanwhile James was expected to do almost nothing in comparison. Don’t get me wrong- he didn’t do anything, but he had almost no responsibilities outside of school and his extracurriculars which were exclusively funded by my parents. Yes he helped with dishes during the week and would keep his space tidy. But as my schedule became much more flexible due to my school schedule, my expectations around the house became much higher than his. Even though I paid 200 a month on gas, 50 a month for insurance and 50 a month for the phone bill, and he paid nothing for his car, insurance, phone, gas, nothing. So you would think he would be expected to help in the house more but no. Also, James’s behavior towards Scott mimicked my parents and so all babysitting responsibilities fell on me as they couldn’t be trusted alone together. I was rarely if ever paid for my cleaning or babysitting services as it was my responsibility as their eldest child. They would also consistently judge me for my weight, cloths, hair, hobbies, etc. Why did I think it was a good idea to get fast food? I clearly didn’t need it. They would “outfit check me” to make sure the outfits I wore were feminine enough because the way I look effected their reputation and I couldn’t be trusted. I was not allowed to cut my hair after their tantrum over it. As for my hobbies, I stopped playing sports in middle school as I am very short (currently 5 foot even) and was unable to keep up with my peers. However my interest in video games and cartoons wasn’t feminine enough and they proceeded to compare me to my best friend Grace because she was skinnier and liked more feminine things than I did which hurt a lot. Another thing for context, I have PCOS. It’s an endocrine disorder that heavily effects your metabolism and hormones, which in turn severely effected my weight, however my parents never acknowledged it and again made everything my fault. So from what I wore, what I ate, who I hung out with and what I enjoyed doing was constantly criticized, scrutinized and eventually controlled by my family for years. On top of everything else, I was done. I was 18, I had resaved the thousand I paid my family and knew I was at a place where I didn’t need them and was tired of being treated like shit. So I left.
The night I moved out was a total shit show. I had rallied Dean and my other friend, let’s call them Rita (18NB), and they helped me form a plan. When I returned home, Dean and Rita would be on their way. I would pack everything that belonged to me or I felt they would let me take, and prep the bags outside. After Rita arrived I went to try and explain to my parents that I would be leaving and explain calmly why. In a perfect world, we would have had a long deep talk, and things would have ended alright. That is far, far from what happened. They immediately starting screaming, and took my phone and car keys as both belonged to them, which I calmly handed over. Rita was there for emotional support, and put themselves between me and my parents as they got more angry and seemed to be turning aggressive. After that, my father called the police and claimed that there was an intruder in their home trying to take their child. Yeah. Complete bullshit- which to this day I’m surprised they were never charged with falsifying a 911 call. They screamed at Rita to get out of their home and was screaming that I was throwing away everything and I needed to reconsider. I ignored them and attempted to calmly walk out, and my parents attempted to barricade the doors while harassing Rita to leave. Because Rita is incredible and one of my closest friends now, they refused to leave without me which was very calming. While my parents were distracted yelling at them, I slipped out through the garage. My mother saw this and then grabbed me, attempting to drag me inside by my arm. Rita saw this and assisted me in getting her off me, and after doing so we continued to walk towards Dean’s car where he was waiting for us. He figured it would be best if my family didn’t see him for the time being as they would definitely lose their minds at seeing his face. My parents continued screaming and then the cops arrived. They were quite confused at first because they had been sent to deal with a potential kidnapping, only to see two grown adults throwing a tantrum because their adult child didn’t want to live with them anymore. That night was honestly so insane I could write three more pages about everything they said and did. The most notable events were first when my mother tried to explain to the police that because I was her child, she was allowed to put her hands on me, which they humorously informed her was not the case. The next was when James came home from theater rehearsal, to which my parents told them that I was abandoning our family. He was an emotional wreck through all of it, and to this day has told me that until I “fix” things with our parents he is not okay with having any form of relationship with me. Throughout all of this Scott was in his room, and I was allowed to give him one last hug before leaving. The final and most notable thing, was as the cops allowed my boyfriend, Rita and I to leave, my father threatened violence towards my boyfriend and accused him of "taking advantage of his underage daughter," which is just ridiculous as we are practically the same age, and anything we had done together was consensual and reserved for after I turned 18. Another thing my parents did was go through each bag I had packed and took everything they felt belonged to them, including the laptop provided to me by my high school, which they hilariously were made to give back to me several days later as it was not theirs and they had no right to take it. They tried claiming they were giving it to me out of the kindness of their hearts, but that bullshit meant nothing as after I informed the school of their behavior, the school assured me they would be made to give it back. Another thing they threatened to do as I left was pull me out of high school, which I was assured by the police they were not capable of doing as I was 18. The police were for the most part annoyed with my parents, tired of their bs and told me I seemed to be a capable young woman and wished me the best of luck. My parents had tried to ask the police to say I was mentally unstable for the time being so I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, as their “she’s still in high school” excuse didn’t do anything. You see, as my father is an influential church figure and had friends in the police force, he thought they would be on his side but was sorely mistaken as the chief told him they wouldn’t be doing him any favors. And with that, I was free.
My boyfriend's family has been nothing but unconditionally kind and supportive and have accepted me as part of their family which has been a huge blessing in all of this. I am in contact with my father’s sister and his father, my aunt and grandpa, and as I have expressed my unhappiness at home, they are supportive of me as well. However, as my aunt lives further away and my grandpa is not in the best place to have me live with him, I have been with my boyfriend's family since I left home in October. I have a lot more I could say but I already feel like there are way too many parts here and so for now I’ll leave it at this. So yeah, AITA for moving out after I was treated like shit for years while witnessing the mistreatment of my sibling?

PC
Reddit Account: Hanah-PNP
Discord Tag: hanahpnp
Name and House: Helya Harlaw
Age: 35
Cultural Group: Ironborn (Blue Sails)
Appearance: Thin and lithe build, Auburn hair with sea grey eyes
Trait: Mariner
Skill(s): Admiral (e), Medic(e), Navigator
Talent(s): Nautical Science, Fiddle music, Swimming
Negative Trait(s): Maimed (Cerebral Palsy, which I have named the windlass disease)
Starting Title(s): Mistress and Commander of the Blue Sails
Starting Location: Opening Event
Alternate Characters: N/A
AC
Name and House: Esgred Harlaw
Age: 28
Cultural Group: Ironborn (Blue Sails)
Appearance: The same auburn hair as her elder sister but a much more athletic build.
Trait: Hale
Skill(s): Avaricious(e), Axes
Talent(s): Swimming, Diving, Downing a pint in record time
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): First Mate of the Blue Sails
Starting Location: Opening Event.
Alternate Characters: N/A
Helya Harlaw is the first born daughter of Arthur and Asha Harlaw. She was born in 10 BC, after a difficult pregnancy, and many were sure she would not survive infancy. It soon became clear that Helya was different. She could not walk or move as well as the other children of Harlaw did. The maester would describe her affliction as ‘windlass of the leg’ (maimed) due to the increasing tightness in her legs. Despite this, Helya was a bright yet quiet child, who spent more time at sea than ashore (Mariner). Her time at sea resulting in her own drowning, and led to her developing her own philosophy of the Drowned God. It was this that would form the basis for the philosophy of the Blue Sails.
More at home at sea than shore, Helya’s mastery of ships and instinctual understanding of sea was second to none (Admiral(e)) (Navigator)
In 2 AC, Helya witnessed Aegon’s Conquest and his suppression of the Iron Islands first hand. Arthur and Asha Harlaw were killed in the ensuing battles. Taking her younger sister, Esgred, and any other ironborn who would follow, she fled to sea, with whatever ships she could and made for any port that would host them. This event would bring together those that fled the islands, more than ever. Cripples, Bastards, Broken things, grey beards, crones, the slag of the Iron Islands, their survival relied on each other.
In 6AC, inspired by her own understanding of the Drowned God, and in response to the suffering she witnessed four years before, Helya founded the Blue Sails, swearing to popular support from her crew, to never return to the Old Way that had brought such ruin to their people. They would serve the weak and innocent, protecting them from injustice from the Sunset to Shivering Seas, using the rites of the Drowned God (Medic(e)). Together, they raised their distinctive sails of blue cloth.
For the next decade, Helya and the Blue Sails worked contract to contract and as traders back and forth across the Narrow Sea.
In 17AC, hearing only rumour and whisper of more war and suffering brought to the Iron Islands, the Blue Sails voted in the style of the Kingsmoots, to return home, believing this to merely be the command of the dragons bringing insult and injury. Upon arrival in Ironman’s Bay, the Blue Sails attempted to disrupt the western fleet, but avoiding violence. However, it was soon apparent, that things were not as they seemed.
Accepting more refugees who wished to escape from their previous lives and following short negotiations with the Lannisters, Helya and the Blue Sails swore to leave and never set foot on the Iron Islands ever again.
17-23AC: Helya returns to sailing up and down the Narrow sea.
In 23AC, whilst working across the Narrow Sea, Helya and the Blue Sails came to the aid of the Lost Legion, discovering a certain kinship between the two peoples, and offering them safe passage to Planky Town.
In 25 AC: Helya and the Blue Sails return to eastern Westeros in search of a new contract.
AC
Esgred Harlaw was everything her elder sister is not. Born in 3 BC, she remembers very little of life before the conquest. Canny with money (avaricious(e)), physical (Hale) and proficient with boarding axes (axes). Over the years, Esgred followed her sister wherever she was required to go, becoming Helya’s de facto protector and right hand woman.
Family Tree:
Arthur Harlaw: Father Asha Harlaw: Mother (both deceased)
Esgred Harlaw (Younger sister)
Timeline: 10 BC: Helya Harlaw is born
3 BC: Esgred Harlaw is born
1 BC-2 AC: Aegon’s Conquest. Death of Arthur and Asha Harlaw. The Harlaw sisters flee the Islands alongside other ironborn refugees.
6 AC: Foundation of the Blue Sails.
17 AC: Western Campaign in the Iron Islands and defeat of Lodos. The Blue Sails swear never to return
23 AC:The Blue Sails come to the aid of the Lost Legion.
25 AC: Looking for work, Helya Harlaw attends the Princes’ birthday
NPCs
Jon (Ship Captain)
Harras (Medic)

I, (18F) moved in with my boyfriend (19M) a couple of months after I turned 18, and my parents were furious and hurt. There’s a lot to unpack with this one, so bear with me.
My parents (40F and 42M) are very religious and were somewhat strict while I was growing up. I have two younger brothers, one 17 and one 8 (this will be important later). For context, my father is a pastor at a local church and my parent’s religious beliefs are the reasoning behind most if not all of their actions. Growing up, I was never a stereotypical girl. I didn’t have many female friends and was usually not accepted in groups with guys as I was a girl and we were kids. I was extroverted as a child but due to being repeatedly rejected by kids my age, I became more introverted. I was a major nerd who loved superheroes and I wanted to play sports. Again, for context, the town I grew up in was very conservative and my parents are very conservative themselves. Girls liked girl things- even if they claimed that’s not how they felt, it’s how they acted. However, as a kid, I did not realize this. I played soccer and basketball growing up, regardless of how “weird” it made me because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. I was probably around 9 or 10 at this point. It was around this time my parents started having issues with my hobbies. I remember my parents trying to convince me to be a cheerleader because I would “like it more,” but I insisted on playing basketball. (This basketball/cheer program was through our church by the way). Because I was still young, they let it slide, but to this day I remember them being annoyed with it. This is also around the time dieting was introduced to me as well as calorie counting. I have always struggled with my weight and so has my mother, so they were very adamant on making sure I was being “healthy.” I didn’t understand it, but as a child, the only thing I was worried about was making my parents happy. A lot of discipline I received revolved around emotion. What I was doing was right or wrong and if I did something wrong, I felt terrible and awful and would often come crying to my parents about the mistakes I made, fearful of their disappointment and anger if they found things out themselves. They also made everything a moral dilemma- everything was about God and religion and as a kid, it really messed with my head. I would blame myself for everything that went wrong, seeing it as God’s punishment for my behavior. When I was 9, I went so far as to blame my grandmother’s death on myself because I was hanging out with boys instead of girls. This made me to be more of an introvert and my now anxiety disorder is much much worse.
About a year later, my parents sat down with me and my brother and told us they wanted to adopt. At first, I was very excited. I loved the idea of having another brother or sister. And I wouldn’t trade my 8 year old brother (let’s call him Scott) for anything, but adopting kids is part of what triggered a huge change in my parent’s behavior. Also- I had started getting older. I loved playing video games, watching cartoons and writing. However, these weren’t the things they wanted me to like I guess, because I started to feel their judgment become more clear and apparent as I got older. Now, I assume this is because as a kid, I just did what I was told, or my oddities were assumed to fade over time, but that is not the case anymore. Anyways, entering middle school, our family fostered a little girl, let’s call her Ally. A young woman in our church had told us that Ally’s family was out of the picture, and as her aunt, she couldn’t take her in as she was already a single mom and planned on adopting her brother, but couldn’t handle all three alone. So my family stepped in- however, we had come to find that her father was still in the picture and was actively fighting for custody. And Ally was a bit of a handful. My parents have admitted that they expected to swoop in, save a child from a hard life and be the heroes, and when things were harder than that they were very upset. Ally was about three- she remembered her mom (who was in jail i believe), her sisters, her grandma and grandpa, as well as her dad. She didn’t want our family, she wanted hers. She didn’t listen to my parents and rejected their parenting. This is what started to make my parents snap. I understand it was hard for them, but now that I’m older, I get it. She was a little girl who wanted her family. But they took her rejection very seriously and were constantly unhappy with her and made sure she knew it. Children not listening immediately was newer to them as my brother and I both did pretty much whatever they asked, and they did not take well to being told “no” by a child. 8 months after living with Ally, she was taken in by her grandparents to live with them and her sisters. The next day, my parents took my brother and I on a small trip. I’m not sure if it was to cheer us up or to celebrate. I was quite sad though- I had started to really care about Ally and had convinced myself that “God would take care of things” and I would have a sister. But I was angry- God took someone away from me and I was doing everything right. Why was he punishing me? Nothing made sense. Yet, only a year later, my parents were considering taking in another child. I wanted nothing to do with it- God had already taken one sibling away from me. I couldn’t do it again. In the end, I agreed and soon became attached to this little boy, who was two when we met him. This was Scott. I immediately became attached- and I love this kid more than I can describe- he’s my little brother and I would do anything for him.
This is where things start to go further downhill. Scott has a lot of trauma and mental issues, one of those issues being oppositional defiant disorder. That basically means that listening to any form of authority is near impossible for him, and causes him to lash out and act younger than he is. This is probably due to a number of reasons, as he was severely neglected and abused as an infant and his birth mother was on several different substances while pregnant with him, to the point where he was born high on several illegal drugs. He was left in a car seat for most of his infant life, so the back of his head is slightly flattened due to this. My parents are very obedient/disciplined-based parents, so his behavior rocked their world. In my opinion, the way they handled things with Scott was borderline abusive. There were several occasions where he would say he hated them (as young children do when they're mad) and they would flip. Telling him that if he didn’t want them that was fine. They didn’t need him. He could run back to his other parents, but his mom was in jail and his dad didn’t want him, so good luck with that. If we were in the car when this happened, they would threaten to leave him on the side of the road and good luck finding his way home. Once my mother literally pulled to the side of the road, placed him outside the car and started driving so he would “think they would leave him if his actions didn’t change,” but she turned around to get him. Because they would “never actually abandon or hurt him,” their actions were justified and perfectly fine. They would tell him he was acting like a baby when he started to cry and scream. “Little baby Scott, do you need a diaper?” Is how they would tease him when he became older, which just made his tantrums worse. They would tell him how disappointed they were with him and that he should be ashamed of himself and the way he acted because they gave him everything. They would call him, to his face, “an ungrateful manipulative piece of shit.” Because according to my parents, he could control his actions 100% and was choosing to act out to make their lives difficult. While I understand that this was hard for them, in my opinion, this in no way excuses their behavior. One time, Scott was crying and was upset (who knows why, but the kid had a lot of trauma and mental issues so it didn’t bother me too much), and my mother picked him up and put him in his room. She told him that every time he tried to leave his room, she would take away one of his stuffed animals. (He had several that he loved very much). Because this sounded so terrible to him, he ran after her trying to say it wasn’t fair. So she went into his room and took a stuffed animal. This cycle continued while he cried and begged for her to stop, because he just didn’t get it that she was going to keep doing this over and over and his trying to convince her was making it worse. Eventually, there were none left, and she told him if he didn’t stop crying she was going to throw them all away. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do know that several of them were thrown away, if not at that time than others. There are many other instances of things like this and worse occurring, but we’d be here for a while if I tried to recount them all. Moving forwards to closer when I was moving out-
Now, several years later, when I turned sixteen, I had come to terms with the fact that I was bisexual. This went against everything my family was for, and I knew exactly how they viewed queer people. So, I started learning about different branches of Christianity and felt like I knew a God who loved me as I was and was happy in my decision to switch denominations. (My parents were baptists, and I wanted to be non-denominational). A few months after this, I decided to tell my parents the truth. I had done my best to give them hints, but I wanted to be honest with them because I trusted that they would love me and be there for me no matter what. When I told them I wanted to talk to them about something, they pushed and pressed and I had been trying to wait to talk to them until the next day. I had been seeing my high school counselor, and she suggested giving them a heads-up before springing that conversation up on them. However, after telling them to wait, they went through my phone and saw that I had researched different denominations and read different sermons on queer-accepting faith. They were livid. To be clear- I had a friend over while this was happening. We were watching a movie and joking about how I lost my phone and couldn’t show them this picture I wanted to. Then, I was called upstairs. I had apparently betrayed my parents and, “how could I do this to them, when I had someone over?” My father demanded I send my friend home, but my mother convinced him for one more hour. I was told not to tell my friend anything they had said and to act like things were fine, but I couldn’t. I went back downstairs where we were hanging out and started sobbing. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. Everything was over- and the people I thought would love me no matter what made me so afraid and sad, I was completely broken. My friend did their best to comfort me and even felt weary to leave me alone with my family but I told them I’d be okay, and asked that they update our friends about the situation. That night was hellish. So many conversations, them trying to understand what I felt, but not taking me particularly seriously either. That night turned into weeks of books, slideshows, conversations, and prayers. It felt like at-home conversion therapy. Eventually, I was given a choice “put my convictional flag in the ground or loose their trust.” As the petrified 16 year old, I chose to lie. I put my “flag” in the ground and did my best to, “earn back their trust” and repair their reputation that I had tarnished. The next couple months were a blur. I felt so terrible about myself. I didn’t know what I thought or believed and I became extremely hyper anxious and depressed. I had lost all sense of privacy and I did trust my parents further than I could toss them. My 17 year old brother (he was 14 at the time, let’s call him James) was 100% on board with my parents. My life felt like a living nightmare. My parents had it so that all my texts sent or received from my phone would go directly to theirs, so I couldn’t even confide in my friends without getting into trouble (which had happened and was how I found out that they did that because I deleted the texts immediately after sending/receiving things).. Everything felt like it was about me and how I needed to earn back their trust and how I was a terrible betrayer who they were not proud of in the slightest. I had gone to get a pixie cut (with their approval) and after they told me I was disgusting and repulsive and would never find a man to love me. I was heartbroken and felt so alone and unloved in my house, while I had to watch my younger brother be treated the way he was by my parents.
Luckily, I had a lot of friends and our school counselor who had been there for me through everything. They showered me with support and love and made sure I had a safe space to exist and truthfully I think they’re the only reason I didn’t do anything drastic and am still here today. It was hard though because James went to the same school as me and would tell my parents if I was with anyone he knew was queer or queer accepting. This caused me to be very very paranoid about who I was with, when, where, etc. Constantly covering my tracks, having an excuse set up and ready to bolt if I saw anyone I knew. What made things equally hard is that the church my father works at is quite big in our area. So if someone from our church or someone who knew my family saw me with anyone they labeled as “queer” or “gay,” they would tell my family as well. For the most part, I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was constantly alert and on guard, even when I was asleep as my parents had woken me up before to confront me about someone I was friends with at school.
Fortunately for me, despite everything being such a mess, I am quite academically smart. I got a job the second I turned sixteen as I had heard the horror stories of queer kids being kicked out and wanted to be prepared. I had been saving money, taking college classes (we have a state program that pays for the classes while you’re in high school), and putting on a show for my family for quite some time. After saving some money, I paid my parents for an older car that they had paid off ten or so years ago. After my brother turned 16, he claimed it was too hard to share a car with me, so while I was away visiting a friend they bought him a car and told us that they expected each of us to pay them one thousand dollars before we graduated high school and that when we did so, they would sign over our respective cars to us. To be clear, I contributed to insurance and paid for my own gas, as well as contributing to my phone bill and money for food. Meanwhile, my brother had no job, and was constantly asking my parents for money to go out with friends. He had also taken up golfing, which as most people know is extremely expensive, and my parents funded everything. James had actually admitted to asking for more money than he needed and save the leftovers for whatever he wanted. I was also expected to chauffeur him to golf events and to get togethers with his friends, and my parents would in return give me some gas money. Another thing to note is that the only reason I was contributing to our phone bill is because James wanted unlimited data and my father said it was unreasonable unless we both contributed financially. I refused as I was trying to save money (as I would have with the car situation), however things per normal went James’s way. However, because he did not have a job, he was not expected to pay anything and would not be charged for the months and years that he did not contribute to. I did my best not to let these things get to me and to keep a level head. I paid my parents for the car because I already had over two thousand dollars saved as a seventeen year old high school student due to my hard work.
I focused on my classes and joined theater to help fill the hours in between school and work. I was much more active my sophomore year but when James also decided to join theater I retreated a bit as my once safe space to freely exist was no longer safe. I joined the stage crew but honestly that was also very enjoyable and lethargic for me and I enjoyed it a lot. Anyways, I was mostly a straight A student besides the stray Bs and one or two Cs (psychology and AP government screwed me over) and was working 15 or so hours a week. This is on top of my commitments to the church which were most of my Sundays and my Wednesday evenings. The funny thing is though- James missed more church than I ever did yet because my absence was because of work and not golf, I was the one consistently reprimanded for my lack of attendance and socialization whilst I was there. Yet because James could never do anything wrong and was a very extroverted person his lack of attendance wasn’t as serious as my own. I had one close friend through our church, let’s call her Grace (now 18F) and she actually knew about everything and was very supportive of me. I also had some other friends who really only showed up to church so I didn’t have to go through the torture alone which I don’t know if I could ever repay them for. Besides the people I was comfortable with though, I was pretty much a loner there and this heavily displeased my parents as it made them look bad and messed with their reputation. I never realized how much appearances meant to them until all of the shit that happened took place. As I mentioned before, our church is very conservative and traditional, and many sermons and lessons revolved around gender roles and the sinfulness of the world in terms fo the LGBTQ community. I consistently felt targeted because of my looks and my personality and stopped feeling comfortable there a very long time ago.
Now that more context is in place, fast forward to the end of my junior year. I had at this point finished all my high school requirements for graduation and was given an incredible opportunity to go to our local college full time for my senior year. I was very excited and happy because not only did it give me more freedom but it also meant I would get more than a year of my college education paid for by the state.
It was also around this time when I met my now boyfriend, let’s call him Dean. We were coworkers and had begun to get to know each other. We had a lot in common and while were different people personality wise, we enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. By some miracle, I convinced my parents to allow me to hang out with him outside of work by claiming he was just a friend and saying that he was a Christian (which is by no means true). They were extremely skeptical but allowed us to hang out. We had an incredible time- and by the end of our first date he asked me to be his girlfriend which I happily accepted. I was so happy, but when I got home, things spiraled out of control. I told my parents about our time, and they were extremely unhappy as they felt fooled (which they were to be fair) and told me I was not allowed to see him ever again. I was devastated and they said a lot of very uncalled for things and but I understand why they were angry. To be clear, they knew I had a romantic interest in Dean and that this hangout was to see if we would be compatible partners and get to know each other better. They did not call it a date though because they weren’t comfortable with it, even if it was a date and they kinda knew it. So while they were on some level “fooled,” I feel that their anger and harshness wasn’t called for as they knew the intentions of our hanging out. The next morning my father demanded to see my phone. This is when I started to panic. You see, they had stop tracking my texts and I had openly flirted with Dean over text. Nothing that explicit and no photos of any kind. But the flirting would be enough for them to tear my world apart and I knew it. They had gone through my personal conversations before and made me feel terrible because of it and I refused to let them do it again. So I deleted everything. The entire conversation chain, I removed it from my phone 100%. My parents absolutely lost their shit. They had been manipulating and gaslighting me for years, doing anything and everything to keep their control and with my actions I showed them they couldn’t control me forever and things went very downhill. I lost all my privacy and was once again told how I had betrayed them and I was terrible and couldn’t be trusted. Again- I partially understand their anger here because I had directly disobeyed a command. But at the same time, I feel as a young woman I should be allowed some sense of privacy and the ability to talk to people without being constantly monitored. I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and would happily do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I’d be where I am today. Regardless of this, my life became a living hell once again, and my parents compared this to when I came out, “which was maybe the worst night of their lives.” They stripped me of all my privileges even if I didn’t have many to begin with. They made me feel absolutely miserable and awful about myself and I was monitored like never before. I would be working and receive texts upon texts of how I was so terrible and how could I do this to them because they had done everything for me and I’m a terrible daughter who should be ashamed of myself for the deceit and malicious nature of my actions. Again- this was because they could not read the messages between me and my now boyfriend. I understand them being mad but they took it to a completely inappropriate level. I shared everything happening with my friends and counselor and they supported me and assured me I did nothing wrong and they would be there for me which helped but as my home was now a living hellscape it was hard to hear it. I found a way to tell Dean about things and at first he felt guilty but I assured him that their actions were not his fault but theirs. He then asked me if I wanted to pause our relationship but I told him honestly that they had taken so many things I cared about over the years and I refused to let them take this. I did tell him however I understood if he didn’t want to put up with all the complicatedness of my family but he told me he cared for me and would be there so long as I was okay with it. He also told me if things ever got really bad at home, regardless of the fact we had just started dating, he had spoken to his family and they offered me a place to stay if I needed/wanted it. This really touched me, but I reassured him that it was not his job to offer that, but I appreciated the offer.
This begins our relationship and we were very happy. We had found a way to communicate over email, and we were able to hide our relationship with my family. Luckily for me, over the years I had made a habit of hanging out at the park by myself so it was not strange for me to head to the park for a couple of hours. There, I would leave my car and phone (my phone had a tracker on it) and Dean and I would hangout multiple times a week and it was heaven. At this point, we’ve only been dating for a year but I can admit without any doubt that I am in love with this man and he is in love with me. During the school year, it became easier for us to hang out in between classes as we both went to the same college (I am older for my year in school and he is younger, so he was a sophomore in college while I was a senior in high school. However, we are barely a year apart in age for anyone who is concerned). However, in order for us to communicate and hang out, I had to be extremely diligent and was consistently covering my tracks while “once again, earning my parents trust and repairing our relationship.” Because of course their actions were completely justified and I was the one in the wrong, per normal. Anyways, every day, I was editing search histories, erasing messages, and looking over my shoulder. Our church had a program on campus where Dean and I went to school, so being together in public was risky as my father’s friends and coworkers were always on campus and I knew I would be screwed if we were caught together. We had a couple of close calls over the months but it was all worth it because I hadn’t been that happy in years.
Now, to the day I left and why. You see, my parents' behavior towards Scott was becoming more aggressive and worse over time. They also had, in my opinion, a drinking problem. Considering they didn’t deny it when I called them out, they may agree. They would behave more hostile after several drinks and it was happening so consistently I was constantly walking on eggshells. Between the way they treated Scott, the way they treated me and the constant stress I was under trying to balance my life in fear of the repercussions, things became too much. When things weren’t going to shit, I was consistently expected to either babysit my brother and do chores while being a full time college student and working a part time job WHILE attending church multiple times a week and keeping up with my responsibilities as a senior. This is on top of the stress my parents' behavior caused, meanwhile James was expected to do almost nothing in comparison. Don’t get me wrong- he didn’t do anything, but he had almost no responsibilities outside of school and his extracurriculars which were exclusively funded by my parents. Yes he helped with dishes during the week and would keep his space tidy. But as my schedule became much more flexible due to my school schedule, my expectations around the house became much higher than his. Even though I paid 200 a month on gas, 50 a month for insurance and 50 a month for the phone bill, and he paid nothing for his car, insurance, phone, gas, nothing. So you would think he would be expected to help in the house more but no. Also, James’s behavior towards Scott mimicked my parents and so all babysitting responsibilities fell on me as they couldn’t be trusted alone together. I was rarely if ever paid for my cleaning or babysitting services as it was my responsibility as their eldest child. They would also consistently judge me for my weight, cloths, hair, hobbies, etc. Why did I think it was a good idea to get fast food? I clearly didn’t need it. They would “outfit check me” to make sure the outfits I wore were feminine enough because the way I look effected their reputation and I couldn’t be trusted. I was not allowed to cut my hair after their tantrum over it. As for my hobbies, I stopped playing sports in middle school as I am very short (currently 5 foot even) and was unable to keep up with my peers. However my interest in video games and cartoons wasn’t feminine enough and they proceeded to compare me to my best friend Grace because she was skinnier and liked more feminine things than I did which hurt a lot. Another thing for context, I have PCOS. It’s an endocrine disorder that heavily effects your metabolism and hormones, which in turn severely effected my weight, however my parents never acknowledged it and again made everything my fault. So from what I wore, what I ate, who I hung out with and what I enjoyed doing was constantly criticized, scrutinized and eventually controlled by my family for years. On top of everything else, I was done. I was 18, I had resaved the thousand I paid my family and knew I was at a place where I didn’t need them and was tired of being treated like shit. So I left.
The night I moved out was a total shit show. I had rallied Dean and my other friend, let’s call them Rita (18NB), and they helped me form a plan. When I returned home, Dean and Rita would be on their way. I would pack everything that belonged to me or I felt they would let me take, and prep the bags outside. After Rita arrived I went to try and explain to my parents that I would be leaving and explain calmly why. In a perfect world, we would have had a long deep talk, and things would have ended alright. That is far, far from what happened. They immediately starting screaming, and took my phone and car keys as both belonged to them, which I calmly handed over. Rita was there for emotional support, and put themselves between me and my parents as they got more angry and seemed to be turning aggressive. After that, my father called the police and claimed that there was an intruder in their home trying to take their child. Yeah. Complete bullshit- which to this day I’m surprised they were never charged with falsifying a 911 call. They screamed at Rita to get out of their home and was screaming that I was throwing away everything and I needed to reconsider. I ignored them and attempted to calmly walk out, and my parents attempted to barricade the doors while harassing Rita to leave. Because Rita is incredible and one of my closest friends now, they refused to leave without me which was very calming. While my parents were distracted yelling at them, I slipped out through the garage. My mother saw this and then grabbed me, attempting to drag me inside by my arm. Rita saw this and assisted me in getting her off me, and after doing so we continued to walk towards Dean’s car where he was waiting for us. He figured it would be best if my family didn’t see him for the time being as they would definitely lose their minds at seeing his face. My parents continued screaming and then the cops arrived. They were quite confused at first because they had been sent to deal with a potential kidnapping, only to see two grown adults throwing a tantrum because their adult child didn’t want to live with them anymore. That night was honestly so insane I could write three more pages about everything they said and did. The most notable events were first when my mother tried to explain to the police that because I was her child, she was allowed to put her hands on me, which they humorously informed her was not the case. The next was when James came home from theater rehearsal, to which my parents told them that I was abandoning our family. He was an emotional wreck through all of it, and to this day has told me that until I “fix” things with our parents he is not okay with having any form of relationship with me. Throughout all of this Scott was in his room, and I was allowed to give him one last hug before leaving. The final and most notable thing, was as the cops allowed my boyfriend, Rita and I to leave, my father threatened violence towards my boyfriend and accused him of "taking advantage of his underage daughter," which is just ridiculous as we are practically the same age, and anything we had done together was consensual and reserved for after I turned 18. Another thing my parents did was go through each bag I had packed and took everything they felt belonged to them, including the laptop provided to me by my high school, which they hilariously were made to give back to me several days later as it was not theirs and they had no right to take it. They tried claiming they were giving it to me out of the kindness of their hearts, but that bullshit meant nothing as after I informed the school of their behavior, the school assured me they would be made to give it back. Another thing they threatened to do as I left was pull me out of high school, which I was assured by the police they were not capable of doing as I was 18. The police were for the most part annoyed with my parents, tired of their bs and told me I seemed to be a capable young woman and wished me the best of luck. My parents had tried to ask the police to say I was mentally unstable for the time being so I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, as their “she’s still in high school” excuse didn’t do anything. You see, as my father is an influential church figure and had friends in the police force, he thought they would be on his side but was sorely mistaken as the chief told him they wouldn’t be doing him any favors. And with that, I was free.
My boyfriend's family has been nothing but unconditionally kind and supportive and have accepted me as part of their family which has been a huge blessing in all of this. I am in contact with my father’s sister and his father, my aunt and grandpa, and as I have expressed my unhappiness at home, they are supportive of me as well. However, as my aunt lives further away and my grandpa is not in the best place to have me live with him, I have been with my boyfriend's family since I left home in October. I have a lot more I could say but I already feel like there are way too many parts here and so for now I’ll leave it at this. So yeah, AITA for moving out after I was treated like shit for years while witnessing the mistreatment of my sibling?

After the great scattering and the unification of Terra and the Sol system. The Emperor ventured out to conquer the galaxy and search for his Primarchs. During this great crusade many Primarchs were found, and despite some setbacks, reunited with their legions. His Primarchs were tasked with the further unification and subjugation of the fragmented remnants of humanity throughout the stars. In this they were told to keep a lookout for their fellow creations. Some Primarchs like Vulkania, Hathor and Sanguinia were devoting great efforts to find and rescue their lost Sisters while the more coldly pragmatic ones like Ferra, Perturaba and Ellanor treated this task as more of a chore with the expectation of unearthing a new weapon for the war effort. So in Year 888 of M 30 of the imperial standard calendar the blood angels legion and their primarch Sanguinia were carrying out the expansion efforts in the borderzone of the growing ultramar exclave. As it happened they came across a civilized human world, that its residence called Nuceria. Sanguinia, ever the charming diplomat, had first contact messages sent out on all possible vox channels and frequencies and even utilizing communication methods from the dark age of technologie in hopes of reaching the planetary authorities. After managing to establish a reliable method of communication she scheduled plans to send an envoy for a planetary landing and subsequent negotiations about the integration into the imperium. As they were loading up the landing crafts with gifts and weapons and diplomats and space marines, Sanguinia was walking across the main hangar bay of the Red Tear. Looking left and right over all the busy people, her wings swaying in the breeze of the air conditioning. At the end of the hangar hall she saw admiral Ares DuCade hurrying towards her with his entourage. She took a moment to stand still and look at him coming, her moment of peace would soon be over.
“There you are my lord, I have been looking for you all morning! You weren’t on the flight deck, you weren’t on the command deck nor on the Bridge nor in your personal quarters and not even on the observation deck could I find you. Landing group alpha primus were worried to terra and back, that their main asset wouldn’t show up in time for take off. First officer Morel almost cried at the thought of having lost a Primarch! Just what in the Imperiums name has possessed you to roam the lower bowes of the ship!” Sanguinia smiled and laughed: “Oh I just wanted to ensure that the ensins and marines of objective group two and three were well rested. I know they don’t mind doing the less glamorous security work but I don’t want them to feel left out just because they couldn’t take part in the parade today.” DuCarde sighed: “Please at least tell your personal security detail before going on such an unscheduled escapade”. He looked at his Primarch, then blushed and looked away. “But thank you for caring about the men”, he couldn’t stay mad at her, not with that smile. “Well then, let us proceed, before we cause a delay, If we go now we should just about make it in time”, Sanguinia winked at him and led the way.
As predicted the transport shuttles departed just in time and the descent to Nuceria was smooth and without issue. Group primus would head down towards the capitol and land just outside in a spectacular flight show before parading into the city where they would engage in the negotiations. Sanguinia knew the importance of making powerful and benevolent first impressions. Group secundus and tertius would make a less impressive descent and position themselves near the military, logistics and communications centers, just in case the talks went sour or the planetary authority would try to pull a fast one on the Legion. But so far everything went to plan, they were almost at the main square, their diplomats had engaged the planetary politicians and even though her personal honor guard was tense, looking for danger around every corner, Sanguinia made a calm and relaxed impression. She had to make a conscious effort for this impression but she knew as soon as this was done she could return to her beloved little dove and spend with them the time that was otherwise allocated for the conquest of this planet. The Desh’ean nobility welcomed Sanguinia and one man stepped forward and introduced himself as lord Thal’kr, leader of the ruling clan. His pompous attitude suggested he saw himself as an equal to Sanguinia, from one lord to another, this was a nuisance that she would just have to deal with. Usually putting pretentious mortals in their place wasn’t an issue for any primarch and she could do it tactfully too, but something about this seemed to give the red angel a headache. Regardless they followed the planetary customs to the necessary degree and were soon invited to a spectacle in the colosseum. Sanguinia, her honor guard, her remembrancer and various other guests were placed in the royal lounge with servants, wine and a grandiose view over the arena. While she was half heartedly listening to the japping of lord Thal’kr her gaze glanced over the rest of the stadium. It was packed. Bread and games seemed to keep the populous obedient. Her headache was still not going away. It was a weird feeling, not even her prescience would allow her to divine what it was. She tried to direct her focus back to what the noble was saying. “...So anyway we have this great gladiator, basically a giant, and the best part is, She’s basically indestructible. Any wound and any torment we inflict on her she recovers from. The populus loves her, especially when we have her fight great beasts like mammoths and nucerian mountain lions. But personally I think her best performance was when we had her fight alongside her adoptive father in an impossible fight, and then when they survived, we told them to kill each other! HAHAHAHA.” The laughter of the fat, opulent tyrant made Sanguinia want to cringe and turn away, but something told her to pay attention. Sanguinia became envious of her bodyguards, for they had helmets behind which they could hide their disgust. This man's ruling ethics could not have been further apart from her own. She tries to distract herself by looking at the faces of the other attendance. To her dismay the only other local that seemed to find anything wrong with this story was a young mortal standing by the balcony and holding a bouquet of flowers. Lord Thal’kr seemed to notice. "Oh? Do you fancy the little one? They are one of my Children. I’ll introduce you.” He turned and called out: “Hei Yarrow come here and give the nice lady the courtesy will you?” The young mortal hurried over, almost tripping over their light robes. They stood in front of the red angel and bowed deeply; clearly they had been raised to be polite and respectful in anticipation for a marriage alliance. “H-hello your highness my name is Yarrow, I’m blessed to meet you,” they blushed but stayed composed even in the presence of someone as intimidating as a primarch. “Come on little one be nice and subservient and maybe the lady will take you away and show you the stars beyond our world,” the tyrant laughed, “what were you doing over there by the balcony anyway? You weren’t thinking any bad thoughts about the gladiators again were you?” “Ah n-no father. Of course not.” “That’s still ‘my lord’ to you.” He shooed young Yarrow away. “Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, And then they thought they could be slick by refusing to fight each other, but we won’t be defied that easily, so we pumped her full of stimulants and had neural-anti cognitors placed in her head. Oh you should’ve seen her then, ripped her father apart like a squealing rabbit. And how she cried afterwards, like a little bitch. Oh what wouldn’t I give to hear that again.” Another noble chimed in:”But what about the time we made her fight her lover?” “Who do you mean?” The tyrant asked. “Gladiolus the beautiful but fearsome young Gladiator,” the noble replied. “Ah yeah HAHA. Well not so fearsome in the end were they?” Lord Thal’kr laughed again. “You have to know, when we learned about their relationship, they had apparently gotten close after the death of her father, we brought the two into the arena. They thought they would be fighting beasts but in reality they would have to fight each other. We gave her just enough time to realize her predicament before we pumped up the pressure on those anti-cognitors and turned her back into a wild savage animal. You should have seen them. Gladiolus pleaded with her to ‘snap out of it’ but she fell upon them and crushed their skull between her thighs like a watermelon. It was a delicious spectacle.” This man seemed to relish in the memory and just as Sanguinia contemplated if it was worth keeping him around he went: “Look! There She is. Child of the mountain, Mistress of the red sands along with our finest gladiators. Hail to those about to die!”
Sanguinia looked down into the arena and got hit with a wave of realization like an orbital bombardment. As she stared down she knew what the feeling was that had plagued her all day. It was this presence that she sensed and her prescience that had been screaming at her what her mind didn’t want to comprehend. But now it stood there below her, clear as day and no longer deniable. She thought no primarch could be more haggard than Morrigan and no such demigod could be more disheveled than Corvess. But she was wrong. Before her eyes stood, wrapped in chains, beaten and broken, her own flesh and blood. And as Angron looked up at the red angel standing at the parapet, all that Sanguinia could do was to close her mind to the visions of what was to come.
“You did WHAT to my Sister?!” The red angel spoke, dry and sharp, hair fell across her face and droplets of black blood fell on the parapet. “Well… we…”, before the tyrant could even speak she fell upon him. A massive hand clamped around his jaw and ripped it off. The guards reacted fast but the astarties reacted faster, thow they could not do much more than dispatch of the armed men before Azkellon ordered them to stand down. They looked over at their primarch who, in this brief moment, had already torn her way through seven other nobles with bare hands and was now about to reach her sword. Azkellon saw that the situation had turned most dire and knew he had to take charge. He turned on the vox:”all channels, situation’s fubar. Proceed with operational backup plan. Don’t go near mother, she is violent and unresponsive.” He then turned towards the brothers standing next to him and shouted: “Sanguinary guard evacuate the premises, ensure the retreat of all imperial non-combatants and most important of all: rescue that Primarch!” He pointed down into the arena, the lower levels of the stadium hadn’t yet realized what was happening, but sure enough there would be mass panic and a stampede. The Astarties split up and Azkellon along with his squad hopped down into the upper levels of the stadium. They did so just in time because the roof of the lodge began to buckle as the red angel cut through men and stone pillars as if they were straw. Azkellon cursed under his breath. He should have insisted on jump packs for this operation. It was no use now, they had to make their way down into the arena by foot, cut a way if necessary. When they were finally in the bottom rows the roof of the lodge above them collapsed and they heard an ear ringing scream: “HOW DARE YOU!” and “MY BABY SISTER!”. Clearly the primarch had finished massacring the major nobles in attendance and was now carving a bloody canyon through the minor ones. The stadium was now in full panik and mortals were scrambling over each other to get out of their own slaughterhouse. The Astarties hopped another fence down into the arena. A few bolter rounds dispatched of the remaining guards and Azkellon made his way over to the still restrained Angron. The next few words he spoke would be crucial to ensure the primarchs' cooperation; he had to choose them carefully and he had to choose them fast. “Mistress of the red sands, we are the angels of the Godemperor of mankind sent to aid you in your escape from this wretched place!” He prayed to Terra that she didn’t actually want to stay here. But to his relief Angron nodded and spoke:”My thanks. Get me out of these shackles, I can fight for myself.” Azkellon hurried to get out his multi-tool and got to work on the primarchs bindings. As he did so he looked her in the eyes and said: “it’s okay, you no longer need to fight for or by yourself.” Angron tried to stay stoic but he could see that the primarch was fighting to hold back tears. She looked as thow decades and decades of prayers prayed cold and lonely cells had finally been answered. When the shackles cracked and broke she turned away: ”They come with me”, she pointed to the other gladiators in the arena. “Very well”, Azkellon knew he couldn’t refuse her or the tenuous trust they had just built would be null and void. His squad freed the gladiators and they hurried out of the arena as Askellon ordered another thunderhawk for evacuation. As the last to leave the arena he looked back and saw the seating area had been filled with so much gore and viscera that blood began to spill over and run down the walls into the sand of the fighting pit. He made another vox call to the red tear and ordered them to get Dove on that thunderhawk along with as many tranquilizers as they could muster. They would need any help they could get if they wanted Sanguinia to calm down.
Angron led the astarties through the underbowels of the arena; clearly she knew her way around. However, that also meant that she chose a way that went past all the prison cells to free as many of the caged slaves, gladiators and animals as she could. Azkellon did not complain, he just wanted to get out of here. When they finally managed to leave the colosseum for good they stopped to take a brief respite. Angron turned to Azkellon and said: “I am grateful for your efforts but please, may I ask, you remove your helmet if you are able to, I’d like to see your face if you have one.” He did so and confirmed what he had felt for a while. Tears of black blood streamed down his cheeks and seeped out of his helmet. She looked shocked. “I’m sorry miss, this doesn’t usually happen, but our mother … your sister… it must be the deep connection we have with her that causes this.” Before he could apologize further for the undignified display, they saw a figure rise above the colosseum. The red angel had spread her bloodstained wings and was flying towards the ruling palace at the other end of the city. Over the vox the voice of the enraged primarch could be heard: “LET NONE LEAVE ALIVE! SHOOT ANY THAT ESCAPE THE CITY!” Azkellon had to quickly amend those orders to ensure that the slaves they rescued would survive. Then he voxed in with the other squad of sanguinary guard to get a status report on the evacuation of the imperial diplomats. Luckily they were almost out of the city and operational groups secundus and tertius hadn’t said anything so it was to be assumed that their part went to plan and there wouldn’t be any planetary reinforcements arriving in the city anytime soon. The squad tended to the malnourished slaves and wounded gladiators as best they could and then embarked on the safest possible route out of Desh’ea. The mortals would slow them down but leaving them behind wasn’t much of an option. Besides, mother had always reminded them that they were once mortal as well.
When they were about half way towards the extraction zone, they passed a squad of blood angel terminators carrying heavy equipment and escorting a young mortal. “Barbiel, is that you?” Azkellon shouted over to them. “Yes, great herald, we have the assets you requested.” “Good, the primarch went that way towards the palace. See if you can stop her madness. … Barbiel?" The crimson paladin seemed to stare off into the space behind him. But when Azkellon saw that it wasn’t just him but the other terminators and the young Dove as well he realized what it was. “This is primarch Angron Thal'kyr. we are escorting her to the thunderhawk for evacuation.” The terminators composed themselves, nodded and then hurried along.
And so passed another tense hour of walking through empty and abandoned streets while avoiding the panicking crowds. The hysteria had spread throughout the entire city and rightfully so. There wasn’t a gutter that didn’t have a trickle of blood running through it. Azkellon knew the power of the primarchs but he was still taken aback at how much carnage a single entity could cause. If there was a god of slaughter, he would surely smile this day.
When they reached the edges of the city Azkellon was relieved to hear the turbines of the thunderhawk. Angron stood still behind him, apparently needing a moment. Surely this was the first time she saw a spacecraft. “Where will this take us?” she asked. “Far away from this sight of misery,” he answered. It wasn’t untrue. “I’ll gladly go but first I need one more person to come with me,” she turned around and walked back towards the city, “I need my Yarrow, I need my desert flower, I cannot leave without them.” Azkellon was glad he had put his helmet back on, as he was certain all the color just drained from his face. He quickly voxed in with the terminator team asking if they had managed to calm down Sanguinia. Indeed they had somehow managed to stabilize her with a combination of Doves' kind words and enough tranquilizers to kill a horde of grox. Then He asked about the Tyrant's Child and after a moment of silence got the answer he did not want to expect. The red angel had slain the young mortal in her episode of unending rage. Azkellon thanked the emperor that he was the only one who could hear that answer. He told them to bring back the body of the slain Yarrow and tell Angron that they were killed by their father. He also stressed that they should ensure that no one ever finds out the truth, especially not Angron or any member of the war hounds legion.
When Angron heard news of the perishing of her second lover, she was inconsolable. She wept until they brought her the lifeless body and she wept over them the entire flight back, and she wept at the funeral when they let their corpse drift into the sun over Nuceria and she wept for several days after. These were a rough couple days despite the planetary conquest going off with very few issues. As Sanguinia read the report her legions apothecaries made about Angron and the butcher's nails in her head, she too fluctuated between rage and sorrow. She cradled and comforted her sister trying anything to lessen her pain. Finally she decided on the surgical removal of the butcher’s nails. When her apothecaries warned her of the dangers and the possibility of killing or stunting her sister, she almost tore one of their heads off shouting: “I’d rather have a brain dead sister than a suffering one.” Alas Sanguinia decided to perform the procedure herself. Her apothecaries suggested returning to nearby Ultramar to take advantage of their medical facilities, but Sanguinia denied them for she could not bear to see her Sister in agony for a single second longer.
Preparations were made and when the day of the surgery came all the medical staff of the red tear that could attend, did so. Even the ones who weren’t required sat in the amphitheater and watched the tense procedure. Sanguinia walked onto the operating floor covered in sterile white robes and a surgical mask over her face. Even her wings were covered in sterile white bindings. They would not remain white for long. Angron was rolled in and placed upon the operating table. Sanguinia looked at the sedated and still body of her sister; she was only covered in a ghostly thin sheet. “Father give me strength”, she muttered under her breath. A dozen astarties and two dozen mortal doctors huddled around the two. One of them handed Sanguinia a custom made pair of operating gloves. She dawned them, flicked them to ensure they sat tight and spoke: “let us begin”. A mortal brought her the scalpel. ‘This shall be the blade I wield today’, She thought to herself.
The surgery was long and arduous; it took three whole days before it was over. By the end Sanquinia was exhausted, she had to focus on making perfect nanometer cuts while simultaneously concentrating on using her prescience to ensure the best possible outcome. She slumped into a chair; her otherwise perfect hair was sweaty and messy. When a doctor came in to tell her that Angron's vital signs read normal, her exhausted face managed to curl into a mellow smile. Dove wanted to comfort her after all the work she did, but she only allowed it for a moment. For Sanguinia knew that her sister would soon awake and she needed to be there. When Angron awoke and looked into her sister's eyes she smiled, feeling as if she had awoken from the nightmare that was her life on Nuceria. But when she saw Dove standing by her sister's side she broke into tears, for she remembered. She remembered not only how she lost Yarrow but she remembered how she lost Gladiolus too. The butcher's nails prevent memories from being formed while in a state of rage but that is only effective in normal men. Angron's nails had prevented her from remembering how she murdered her father and crushed her lover in the arena but now she saw it again, clear as day. She wept and wailed in the arms of her sister, soaking her hair and wings in tears.
The pain of the nails was gone but the pain of the past was one that could not be lifted. Angron engaged with her sister, for Sanguinia managed to take her mind off of the grief she still felt. But this would not last long, for soon the Conqueror arrived carrying the war hounds legion, forcing the two sisters to separate. After this Angron fell into a deep deep depression. Ordered to lead men she barely even knew and on board of a ship she found to be unfamiliar, Angron felt even more alone than in the slave pits of Nuceria. Not even the slaves she rescued were there to accompany her for she had sent them away to a paradise world, far away so they may never again be forced to fight. Angron was alone again, she was frightened again and most of all: she was in a cage again. She locked herself in her chambers, where she sank deeper and deeper into grief and sorrow. When her marines came and tried to talk to her she lashed out in desperation, killing more than a few. Even though the nails were removed, she still felt like she was only here to endure a life of suffering and torment.

This might be a long read so brace yourself ...
When I'm asking if I'm being in the wrong here I only mean in terms of accountability and in regards to the situation and not so much about the wrong or right itself and would like some insight/advice basically..
TLDR:

Mixed feelings about a girl I just been dating for a few weeks or so? We only met around 2 times in person since she's somewhat busy. I feel like I'm putting more effort and energy than receiving it but unsure if it's just because the other person prefer taking things slow but I can't tell because whenever I ask her if she's interested, she's always kinda deflecting the subject. She's going to be away for the next 4 months so I won't be able to talk to her and our last convo this morning was kinda awkward ..

Relationships Background: I met my first ex a few months ago and she gave me a speedrun of everything most couple would usually do after a few months and since I didn't know any better I just went with it since she was my first everything. It ended with her initiating the breakup after less than a month after 2 weeks of long distance after she came to visit me. She gave me the "it's not you, it's me" and "you are the first one to treat me right" (she had multiple partners). She was also a bit insecure and sensitive and needed constant reassurance.
In the case of [HER], all her exes are by products of one night stands which ended up into relationship because they all asked her for one to her surprised and she just agreed with them. She described as liking them but not really ever falling in love with them so I guess I'm the first one to be fall into that category. In [HER] case, she is highly confident about herself and in what she accomplish (makes a lot more money than the average person). She gets self gratification from making money even though she can just live off her parents wealth but she finds having nothing to do boring so she became independent.
With that in mind, here's how this story starts.
On April 3rd, I reinstall Hinge because I want to have some new connection after moving on from my ex. It's not until April 23rd when I match with [HER]. At first I was surprised since I didn't expect it so I express my surprised via text in which she later explained her side via a voice note saying that she thought I looked like one of her students so she was afraid someone would recognize her which is her fear so she never matched with me. (I sent her a total of around 4 likes because I used to delete my account and make a new one again and her acc would always show and she kinda recognize from that as well.)
After that, we just exchange a lot of voice notes talking to each other about stuff and things which later I ask if its okay for me to ask her to go out on a date at this point. She then explains she has some requirements before actually going on a date with someone, she prefers getting someone a little bit more and seeing if we're compatible before meeting since she finds it weird how most people would rush which I agreed.
From there, we talk a bit more via voice note where she asks me what's my definition of love and my concept of relationships which she said almost is the same as hers. She explained for her to fall in love for someone it would at least take her 5 years or so and that's after they're able to past the 4 stages of love described in her own way; honeymoon phase, difference, compromise and initial stage of love.
The next day we just talk some more via text and and voice notes till 2 AM and what not talking about random things and life. At this point, I thought we had some good chemistry or so. We later talk about our exes and stuff.
A few days later I then try and ask again for a date since it felt like we had established some sort of rapport and knew a bit more of each other. She then tells me more about her schedule and how busy she'll be and how she'll be traveling soon in the next 2 weeks for her school stuff. At some point she said she had a symposium she was organizing at the university and I asked if it would be weird If I came to see her.
She said she didn't mind but wouldn't have time to cater me since it would be busy. Please also note that up until this point, I didn't know her real name since in Hinge she's using some random name and I didn't really ask her about it since I guess she didn't want to but I figure me showing up to that event, I would at least find what's her name which I did.
Anyways day comes and I show up to the event, it's is a medium size classroom. I didn't recognize her at first since she had a different haircut. I didn't wanna intrude or anything so I just sat there listening to the event till the end. I didn't really get the chance to talk to her or anything by the end since they had an after party and whatnot so I decided to head home instead feeling somewhat weird? So rather than just heading straight home I just sat there on the subway train listening to music instead. I texted her saying I wished we could have spent a bit of time together but you looked so busy and what not.
After a few minutes later I decide to head out for a walk because I was just feeling weird, I then see a text from her inviting me to help with returning books to the library if I want to which I agreed. To my surprised she showed up with two luggages .. which we just walked around till we reach the library. From there, I got to finally meet her in person and talk to her for a bit. I thought we had a good time, by the end I walked her home and that was mostly. We just kinda waved to her each and say goodbye to each other. I was kinda thirsty that night so I asked her for water but she gave me some korean brand banana juice instead. I then later send her a text thanking her for inviting me to help her which she doesn't reply to.
She's usually only replies if I initiate the conversation first which then let me gaslight myself into thinking it's because she's probably busy .. anyways we text each other for a bit that night because I asked for her number later instead of using Hinge. I then get somewhat down bad and ask if I can see her again tomorrow in which she replies "what's the benefit of seeing you again tomorrow?" which I thought was funny but she was serious. She had to write her REB so I guess she didn't really have time.
It's then the weekend and on the morning of Saturday she invites me to join her to the library and then we can eat at some place later if I want to where she'll be busy working on some stuff. She emphasize that she'll be annoyed if she is disturbed while trying to get work done which I didn't mind since my work is online and I only need a laptop to work.
I showed up at the library a bit early and letting her know, she then tells me she's going to get some coffee nearby first and then meet me so I wait for her at the library. Around 30 min goes by and I start getting a bit worried because she still hasn't showed up and hasn't given me any updates at which point I text her if anything is alright or if she's safe and what not. I get no answers for a bit then later she texts me she's inside where I was on my way to the coffee so I go back inside and then we just sit near each other and focus on our work. I give her the same korean banana juice which I found later at some korean market I went by to buy before meeting her. A few hours goes by we then go to a japanese place by walking there so I get to speak with her for a bit which was nice. I then pay for the bill then walk her home and then again we just wave to each other and say goodbye.
At this point, there has been no physical affection or the sort. Her body language isn't really telling me she's comfortable so I'm not really going for it even though I'm starving for it. I figure she prefers taking things slow so I'll go at her pace. Again, I text her later thanking her for inviting me and spending some time together which I appreciate. She doesn't really reply and giving me back the same energy.
So constantly, I'm always wondering if she's interested in me or enjoy spending time with me. When I ask her about it, it most of the time gets deflected or maybe it's a language barrier and I don't always get what she means when she sends some of her texts if I'm being honest but for some reason I find it cute. it's not like she's playing hard to get but it's confusing to say the least.
Anyways, because of that, I became hesitant to make plans to see her again since she doesn't really people calling her on the phone either unless absolutely necessary she explained to which I joked saying if I'm about to die then I'll call you.
After that second "date". i just try to limit my interaction to texting her a few text daily or so because I just wanted to have some kind of interaction with her. At this point I realized this may or may not be a one-side interest but then I gaslight myself thinking, she's a busy person and still makes some time for me so surely she's interested in some way?.
After a week or so of daily interaction I decide to somewhat stop contact because I also wanted to focus on my stuff and perhaps explore my other dating options if any .. a week goes by and I never hear from her again until one day she just sends me a text that just finished working at some factory as an interpreter and that her phone will be temporarily be disabled because she'll be traveling.
I then expressed my surprised because I figured she had forgotten about me and whatnot. We then exchange a few text here and there, we both caught a cold and talked about how shitty the weather is here and stuff. Again, I'm always the one having to initiate or there won't be any contact .. like at all. So it's hard for me to know if the person is interested even when being asked so I'm left with just overthinking.
Anyways, I ask her more about what time she's leaving and what time and if she wants to spends the last 2 days eating out and spending time together and stuff.
She said she went to some resto the day before but it was busy and had no table because of mother's day. At this point, I looked up the resto because I wanted to make some reservation so we could go there but I stopped myself because I had no idea what kind of situationship this was and if I was putting more effort and not receiving any. So I ended up sleeping instead.
The next day in the morning she texts me she went back to that resto but found out it's only open on certain days for brunch so she was sad and we exchanged a few random texts from that.
then the next day, this is our last conversation this morning before she's away for the next 4 months ..
ME

Will I see you again after 4 months or this is goodbye..? I feel a bit envious of your exes because they all got to be in a relationship with you and meet the girlfriend version of [HER] and all I ever got seems to be the busy version that just sends me off saying bye bye and leaving me confused most of the time with her texts haha 😅

HER

? wtf you don at 6 am plus even boyfriends need to see me off for the summer. I only going for fieldwork, not leaving. don't worry, you will see me when I'm back

ME

I was trying to fix my sleep schedule and I ended up waking up early randomly and then you were in my thoughts idk What do you mean I'll see you after you're back, are you saying you want me to wait for you? 😭 I don't even know what we are, I figured you're too busy to think about that or me as an option so I'm left overthinking.. I would have wanted to see you off but I didn't know where we stand

HER

I thought you gonna visit yesterday since you asked

ME

I wanted to but I didn't know if you wanted me to since it seemed you wanted to go to [restaurant] I was gonna make reservations there but then I realized I might be doing too much because I don't know we're in a relationship or just buddies. Now you leave in one hour and I'm even more confused

HER

Can't you see the problem in your first 'relationship' is that you guys rush everything? In my opinion, you don't know how to form healthy relationships. Take it slow. If you want to see me, make plans. Don't moan afterwards this and that. I can tell you I have always been very busy even with boyfriends. I suggest you set goals and we can celebrate together once you achieve them. I will be back in September. You're welcome to contact me then.

ME

Yes I agree that rushing was the issue in my first but in this case it's more of a mutual interest and communication. From my perspective, it seems like I'm chasing you for some reason because I'm not getting the same energy that I'm sending out. It seems you only respond if I initiate first. I'm always left wondering if you actually want to spend time with me or interested. When I ask you about that, you seem to be deflecting instead of giving me a straight answer or tell me how you feel.. I literally have no idea what you feel most of the time aside from being busy

I can take it slow as a 100 years as long that I know the other person is also interested in building something together in the near future with me. I do want to make plans but it's hard to differentiate if I'm being used for my kindness or for attention when I receive no reassurance when being asked for it? Surely you understand the concept of return on investment.
Or maybe you're right, maybe I'm the problem idk..
HER

well, investment. I would say even my friends invest more on me than you, if you really want to argue that. I also think if we can't make good friends, we won't make good couples. If you rush things, I will retreat because I need my independence more than anything. Make you own choice. Do not talk like a victim.

I didnt really reply anything after that because well not sure how to respond after reading that so I ended up on reddit instead.
NEED OBJECTIVE OPINIONS/ADVICES? I consider myself pretty in tune with myself and my emotions but here I find myself a bit confused and I can't tell if I'm getting clingy or obsessive or too close to the situation to think clearly so I figured I'd make a post and hear some of yall thoughts on this to see if maybe I'm the one who still need to work on myself or maybe we're just not compatible? I guess it would also help me get some closure and not feel so shitty.
p.s if you made it this far, thank you for reading and hopefully you have some insight on my situation since I do not have that much experience when it comes to dating certain girls.
i also passively use twitter and saw this tweet that goes: I’ve noticed I don’t have an issue communicating. My issue is people’s responses . It’s the lack of accountability and the one-sided perceptions that I cannot tolerate.
And I thought that was kinda how I'm feeling right now but not sure ...

I am thinking of purchasing a small house that is part of a complex formed of several old Victorian houses which are mostly connected by party walls. The house has no back garden and a very small front garden.
It is electric heating only although I am told it does have a “normal” hot water system with radiators and such, and instead of a boiler it has a electric element. The current owner has told me that it is a 7kW system and it has to be left on during the winter for most of the day to achieve a habitable temperature which is expensive as you can imagine.
I’m considering all alternative methods of heating the place as this is going to be the largest running expense. I have considered an air source heat pump but I am put off by the cost and I will have nowhere I can install it. I would need planning permission I think because the building is listed.
One of my neighbours has a huge oil tank on their property and has oil heating. I discussed the issue with them casually and they have suggested that for only slightly above the price of which they pay for oil; they would be willing to supply me with oil on metered basis if I decided to try to install an oil boiler. I imagine this may be run in the same way that a shared septic tank works (this property also has one of those with that same neighbour).
Am I completely stupid to consider this? The only other option I’ve come up with is ripping out all the radiators and just get electric heaters installed, use an economy seven tariff, and be selective about what rooms are heated.
I am interested to hear your thoughts. Thank you in advance!
Some other information
Property is listed so I cannot change the single pane windows. Same for external insulation, but internal insulation may be a possibility.
It is affectively a two up to down property.
I have my suspicions that it is a solid brick construction with no cavity.

When they start pulling away that’s a huge sign the discard is imminent. It doesn’t matter what reason they give for it, look at their actions. You can’t trust their words only their actions.
In my relationship experience with my gf, we were on and off for five years and cycled back over a dozen times. I’ve been hit with blind sided discards throughout the years. Usually the discards happened when I thought things were at their best in the relationship and we were having our most closest and intimate times together. I loved her but my heart had hardened over the years and it morphed into a challenge and experiment for me as I am very interested in human psychology. The last three break ups were all initiated by me after I saw set boundaries bulldozed through by her.
In the past, I would have lingered and waited for the axe to fall not believing she would or could actually leave. Now armed with all this hard learned experience, I prepared and waited for her next hoover. Sure enough she came back each time. Sometimes after much more added betrayal. Sometimes she would monkey branch, she would never admit to it but I would usually find out months or years after the fact. She was great at keeping secrets and sneaking around and telling lies. This last time was more of an experiment for me. Her trigger after the love bombing stage and first discard was sexual intimacy which invoked emotional intimacy. Usually right after an intimate encounter she would either start a nonsensical fight and use my reaction as a reason to leave or would just disappear and ghost.
I’ve struggled with does she only have an avoidant attachment style or is there a cluster B disorder also at play. I really think it is BPD with covert NPD traits combined with an avoidant attachment style forming a mental trifecta; a relationship disaster. I knew this last time wouldn’t work. A zebra can’t change its stripes.
She contacted me again to get back together again. I played hard to get trying to decide if I really wanted this or not. I demanded numerous boundaries be agreed to before I would agree trying again. I pushed her so far away, I thought she might just say never mind but when I saw her reaching her limit, I relented and accepted her back with many boundaries in place. I told myself if these were broke I was done and I would leave. One important boundary was being blocked on social media. She would always keep me blocked on FB and other platforms while we were in a relationship. I felt it was to shield her harem from knowing about me and me knowing about them and what she was doing. She kept other ex’s as friends on FB and actually went back to him after we broke up on two occasions.
I often wondered if we put off having sex could we build a stronger foundation and have a longer lasting relationship. I also didn’t want physical intimacy to cloud my judgement and give me false feelings of love. So we both decided to not be intimate right away and just date and put an emphasis on building a friendship and getting close with out sex. Things were great in the beginning. She was trying hard. She opened up in ways I had always wanted. Some of those were because of boundaries I set in the beginning. I got to meet her family and friends. I saw a lot of the same cluster B behaviors in others close to her and her family members from suicide to serial cheating, multiple and short lived relationships etc…
Slowly I could see the mental fatigue on her face. She began struggling about two months in. We decided to plan a weekend getaway and be intimate. I put down deposits on an Airbnb and made plans. She started an argument the week of the trip. Her issue was that I offered to bring her to my gym as a guest so we could do something healthy together and bond. She just thought that was the worst idea ever. During the argument she also told me she could be talking to someone else instead. She then kicked me out of her house. I thought that was the end of the experiment. In the past any conflict no matter how mild would have been reason enough for her to break up.
Low in behold, I was truly surprised, I woke up to a good morning text from her apologizing saying she was not running away and I was her person and she loved me. She stated she still didn’t feel comfortable going on the trip. I lost deposits. I later questioned her about who she was referring to she could be talking to instead. She said she never could have said that as it would have been mean to say.
Fast forward approximately two months later the old argument about the gym was brought up again by her. It didn’t get to the same level of being kicked out of her house. I kept my cool and just gray rocked her and didn’t react. I just affirmed her and said ok. It seemed to give her some relief and not escalate things. We decided to plan a weekend at a casino where we would spend the night. This went off without a hitch. We had a great time and we were very intimate and had great sex. Afterwards laying in bed enjoying the afterglow, she commented this was never our problem. I asked what was our problem, she said it was her running away. She promised to never do that again. The next day we went her parents house for Sunday dinner. Things were great, she seemed so in love with me. I was elated. We were walking into her parents side entrance when I noticed how happy she was and I commented someone looks like they are in love. She turned around and looked at me with the strangest face. Almost like fear. I was taken aback but didn’t say anything as we were walking into her parents house and then greeted everyone. It was like a switch had just flipped. She became distant and quiet. I didn’t see her again until the following sunday. She gave excuses about having to work a night shift that was at first going to alternate every other day to nightly. At the end of the week she invited back to her parents house for dinner. She still texted but I didn’t receive any phone calls and the texts contained less affectionate terms and only offered up I loves you’s only after I did first.
While at her parents house her mother asked if I was going to her birthday party the next night at a restaurant. I said I would love to but I didn’t know anything about it. She gave her mom a wtf look and then said let’s see how he acts first. Me and her mother both looked at each other and laughed. The next night I show up at her house to pick her and her teenage daughter up who had been committed for attempting suicide in the past for the purpose of going to her mother’s bday party.
Two days in the future was Valentine’s Day, I asked what restaurant would she like to go too. She was like I don’t won’t to go out and gave a reason as the restaurants would be to busy but after my persistent questioning she offered possibly a lunch instead and said she would let me know. I dropped it as she was getting visibly angered. This was totally out of character because she always liked going out to busy places where live music and beer was had. I said ok and we continued on to the party. We were at a restaurant and normally she sits right beside me thigh to thigh and she would keep a hand on my leg. That night she sat atleast a foot apart from me and never touched me the whole night. We barely even spoke. Every time I tried she was dismissive.
After dinner we went back to her house and she sat me down to tell me that she felt pressured to see me after work as she missed going to stores and felt rushed to get home to see me. I didn’t react and just offered a compromise and said I understood how about we schedule a date night then. She never responded and just dropped it. She then brought up the gym argument again. I didn’t respond to it. I told her I was her safe place and to just relax. My head was swimming with thoughts of here we go again. I leave soon after her telling me she was tired and I got my peck on the cheek and left early. I did not receive a good night text or ask if I made it home safely. I sent a good night message and fell asleep.
The next morning I wake to no messages which was very abnormal. I normally get good morning messages from her and I love you’s every day. I sent my normal messages and she responds back saying she needed that. But nothing more additional. I go through my day and get nothing else from her. Normally she sends texts all day long. Towards 4 pm I send a text from a gym and a selfie saying hi , I love you. She hearted the photo and said then said she was going to her mom’s house and sent me a selfie of her. She was all dressed up and didn’t look like she was just going to her moms. I was hoping to get an invite to come over. Nothing more came from her. I asked about her daughter as she had was dealing with possible Covid symptoms and I got nothing in response. I didn’t feel like going home so I went to the movies by myself. Sitting there I was thinking why am I putting up with this. I’m really not happy. I feel so alone.
I go to bed and send my normal good night texts. I wake up in the morning and I did not receive any texts. I decided to try calling her and all my calls were forwarded. I then check her Facebook and now see that I am blocked.
I remembered the boundaries I set and the purpose of the boundaries. The purpose was to respect myself and not be used by her again. I did not want to be hurt and abused by her again. With so many discards done in the past by her, I felt the discard was in full swing. I felt she was possibly cheating and the push back was her trying to create space to water a new infatuation. She had recently transferred to a new department within her company and was promoted and allowed to select people she wanted for her office. My gut was telling me she was talking to someone at work which would explain the recent late night hours.
I decided I needed to end the relationship. I sent her a break up text as she always ended it with me that way. Before that happened to me so many times, I never would have chosen to break up over text. But it did allow me to spell out everything I saw and what I felt. It contained my closure and reasoning in an attempt to make my own closure for myself because I knew she would not give any closure and also to hold her accountable. I ended the break up text with an open door and said if I’m wrong please explain. I will listen. Her response was “Wow you said enough.” “I’m done.” I replied “yep, I know”.
Her mother reached out and apologized and expressed regret. I told her everything. I felt vindicated. She said her and her husband thought so highly of me and hoped it would have worked. She did not know if her daughter was seeing anyone else. We have since stopped communicating but we remain friends on FB.
I credit the lack of sexual intimacy as the reason I was able to look at the relationship with sober eyes and step away when I saw the signs. The signs were abuse. They truly were. If you love a person you would never ask for space and give such a silly reason. Sex would have produced false feelings of love. I was able to look at the relationship objectively and I was actually not happy. My needs weren’t being met. I felt so drained and unseen. I didn’t feel loved. She loved the way I loved her but it wasn’t reciprocated.
I felt the need perhaps due to the trauma bond and the perceived betrayal to learn if in fact she had monkey branched in order to help me move away from her permanently.
I reached out to another family member and the ex she monkey branched to in the past. I explained the above information and I ended up not receiving any new information. Both told her I had reached out and her ex blocked me. My ex then sent me an email demanding I stop contacting her family and friends and further more she would be filing a protection order. I never received the order. My only regrets was reaching out to her family and her ex. It just gave her a reason to smear me and to tell everyone I’m nutty person.
I cant say I’m 100% hoover proof at the moment but I have started dating again. I don’t think she will come back again because I believe she feels I can’t be used anymore and furthermore I’m willing to reveal her bad deeds to her family and friends. I think she will choose to move on to a fresh target who does not know her and what she is capable of doing.

Rant incoming!
This morning hubby woke up and said he smelt a rotten eggs smell from the living room/kitchen area, I've got a stuffy nose so can't smell anything. Now we live in an early 70s home so a gas leak was a possibility but we also have an aquatic turtle and a toddler so dirty tank and cheese under the sofa were also possibilities.
Hubby takes the kid to school and says he'll clean the tank when he gets home but if I (while WFH) start feeling weird to let him know. So far so good, tank is cleaned and by that point it's time to pick up the kid from school. He comes back home and it still smells and mother-in-law confirms she smells it too. So while he starts on cleaning, looking for possible sources, I say he should call the gas company or fire department to see if they can send someone to take a look just in case. This was a huge mistake.
I remember as a kid my family calling the fire department for the same thing. They came took some readings and declared all clear. My mom and I then spent the rest of the weekend deep cleaning everything. No fuss but not this time.
Gas company says they can't come check for that, we'd need to call a plumber but that they can check our meter. We say fine it's probably a liability issue or something we'll be ok but sure they can come check the meter just in case. Meanwhile, I start looking for plumbers and some sensors because we live outside the city and it can take plumbers up to a week to make it out here. Well gas guy comes and SHUTS OFF AND LOCKS OUR GAS! No warning! Guy comes in and tells us the meter is fine and if we want gas back we need to get that plumber. Call the gas company and they say it's standard procedure and they specifically don't tell you ahead of time because most people wouldn't agree if they did, no fucking shit Sherlock!
We get a hold of a plumber who says they could maybe make it out today but probably tomorrow and it'll be $400 just to do the check. $400 just to check this has got to be a scam! So yeah no stove or hot water until probably tomorrow and $400 out of pocket just because I thought to be cautious.

An idea I have been toiling with, it finally scratched my mind strong enough to escape. This is a little excerpt of the idea of a man being reincarnated into Westeros during the prelude of the Dance of the Dragons. Being born to Laena and Daemon, the blood of the dragon and the blood of the sea form a strong force in him.
"Dracarys Vhagar!" The piercing cry jolted me from sleep, sending my heart racing as I bolted upright in bed. Time seemed to stretch, the world slowing to a crawl as a familiar clicking sound echoed ominously in the air. My mind raced with a single thought: 'No, it can't be...'
Disregarding my dishevelled state and clad only in underwear, I dashed to the window, gauging the distance to the ground below. The lone palm trees swayed in the wind outside as if offering silent reassurance that the fall wouldn't be too dire.
"A body fit for the lord of the seas I was promised, let's see how that goes..." With resolve hardening my nerves, I leapt over the balcony, the rush of air accompanying my descent.
Fwoosh!
Time seemed to freeze once more as I hurtled toward the staircase leading to the beach. As I landed with a jarring impact, the scene before me unfolded in chaotic clarity. My mother lay collapsed on the sand, a trail of blood staining the shore—a broken figure in the moonlight.
"Keligon zȳhon (Stop Her), Tiamat!" I bellowed, even as flames erupted from Vhagar's jaws. With a primal roar, the sea responded, and the serpentine jaws of Tiamat, the 'dragon' that hatched with me, emerged from the waves. Her various knobs, spines and horns contrasted with her large, sinuous, white body. She surged forward from the depths, her red eyes focused and the hood around her neck flared as her powerful jaws snapped shut with a resounding crack. The clash of titanic forces reverberated through the water as Vhagar roared in defiance, its flames sputtering against the onslaught. Arcs of electricity crackled between each sharp fang, the resonance of the elements contrasting the deep of the night.
With gritted teeth, I ignored the pain from my fall and raced toward my mother's side. Vhagar's Dragonfire faltered, replaced by a pained cry as she struggled against Tiamat's grip. "Jikagon arlī (Go Back), Tiamat," I commanded, and the sea creature obediently released its hold, slipping back beneath the waves. In my mind, I could feel how concerned she was for me and my mother as well.
As Vhagar turned, disoriented and enraged, I approached cautiously, soothing words falling from my lips. "gīda, gīda, (calm, calm) Vhagar," I murmured, hoping to quell the storm raging within her.
Holding my mother in my arms, I noted that only half of her body was burnt, yet they seemed to only penetrate to the last layer of the skin. Her body was a charred remnant, I asked her to be quiet as I asked for the water's help in healing her.
In my mind, however, I felt Tiamat indicate that dragonfire was the exception. Gritting my teeth, I asked my mother,

"would... would you like me to at least save the baby painlessly?"
She nodded. I proceeded to ask the water within my mother to release the child, and it slowly began to push the baby out.
Amidst the cries of a newborn, echoing across the desolate beach, a figure descended the weathered stone stairs, casting a long, solemn shadow over the scene. The gentle lapping of the waves provided a haunting backdrop to the momentous occasion unfolding in the fading light of day.
"It's a boy, mother..." I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. "I'll call him Laenor... in your and... and ah, uncle's honour..."
Tears welled in my eyes as I swallowed the rising bile, threatening to spill over as I gazed down at the fragile bundle in my arms. His cries, though piercing, seemed to fade into the background as I focused on the woman who had given me life.
Summoning the last reserves of her strength, my mother nodded slightly as she extended a trembling hand to touch my tear-streaked face. Her touch was both searing and tender, a bittersweet reminder of the love that bound us together. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a silent reassurance in the face of impending separation.
"My... special boy..." she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, yet filled with a depth of love that transcended words. "I... will... al...ways... lo...ve y-"
But her words trailed off into silence, the light fading from her once bright eyes as her spirit slipped quietly from this world. At that moment, as I cradled my newborn son in my arms, I felt the weight of her absence settle over me like a heavy shroud. My mother is now forever lost to me...
Moving away from her body, I understood what she wished for, a true valyrian death. I moved towards the cause of the rapid footsteps and knew who it was from their build,
The tension between father and son crackled in the air like the static before a storm as I confronted Daemon, my words dripping with bitterness and accusation.
"Father," I seethed, my voice heavy with venom, "I wonder... did you grant me that final moment with her out of respect, or was it merely your own disinterest in her that allowed it?"
Emerging from the shadows, Daemon regarded me with a cool detachment that only fueled my anger. His silence spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgement of the rift that had grown between us.
"You are upset, I understand--" he began, attempting to placate me.
"Upset? UPSET?!" I erupted, the floodgates of my grief and frustration bursting forth. "My fucking mother just died! Your WIFE! At the age of 26! How could you have let this happen?!"
Daemon remained stoic, unmoved by my outburst. I continued to rail against him, pouring out my anguish and resentment until I was left gasping for breath.
"I tried... Everything," He whispered out, the weight of his failure resting silently on his shoulders. "Everything that the masters recommended, I did without question."
"You KNEW I was special," I accused, my voice trembling with betrayal. "Why did you not come to me?"
"Special, yes," Daemon conceded with a sigh. "But able to ensure a safe delivery? That was not something I expected to be within your abilities."
His words cut deep, slicing through the haze of my grief with a sharp clarity. I silenced him with a look, determination hardening my resolve.
"We will discuss this later," I declared, my voice firm. "After I have cremated my mother."
Daemon's gaze lingered on me, a silent acknowledgement of my authority at this moment. But his next words grated against me,
"And how will you do that without a dragon that breathes... fire?"
With a silent exchange, I passed my younger brother into his care, my jaw clenched with determination. Turning away, I strode toward Vhagar, my mother's final resting place.
"Dracarys, Vhagar," I commanded, but she remained stubbornly unmoved, defying my order. Frustration surged within me, but I refused to be stopped.
Raising my arms toward the open ocean, I summoned a thick tendril of water to wrap around Vhagar's throat. With a clenched fist, I repeated my command, forcing her head towards my mother's body.
"Vhagar. DRACARYS."
This time, she obeyed, her flames engulfing my mother's body in the ancient funeral rite of Valyria. As her body blazed, consuming my mother's earthly remains, I honoured her final request, granting her the dignity of a true Valyrian death.
"Keligon, Vhagar," I murmured, the flames extinguishing at my command. She seemed to listen now, subdued by the solemnity of the moment. I let Vhagar free of the water tendril before stepping back towards my father,
"IF. And I truly mean IF," I emphasized, locking eyes with Daemon, "I find out that you had anything to do with her death or that you tell anyone of my abilities... I swear on the memory of my dead mother that I will pierce your heart and lungs with that targaryen blood that you are oh so proud of."
My words hung heavy in the air, a solemn oath borne of grief and determination.
There was a moment of tense silence as my words reverberated between us, each syllable weighted with the weight of my resolve. Daemon's expression remained inscrutable, but I detected a flicker of unease beneath the mask of indifference.
With a final, piercing stare, I turned away, leaving him to contemplate the gravity of my vow. As I left the yard, I noted the small smile that replaced his expression.
Ascending the steps, exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders, mingling with the simmering emotions that churned within me. It was then that I realized the reason for Daemon's smile, the underlying pride that lay beneath his stoic facade.
Halting midway up the stairs, I turned back to face him, my gaze meeting his across the distance.
"You're proud, aren't you?" I questioned, my voice tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation.
Daemon met my gaze, his expression unreadable yet tinged with a hint of something akin to pride.
"Of course," he replied, his voice carrying a weight of its own. "After all, that part of you is finally out... The fire and fury of a dragon."
His words resonated within me, stirring a complex mixture of emotions. With a nod of acknowledgement, I turned away once more, leaving him to his thoughts on the desolate beach below.
Though my anger still simmered beneath the surface, tempered by the realization that some of my accusations had been fueled by raw emotion, I resolved to address them with a clearer mind in the days to come. For now, I needed time to process, to mourn, and to prepare for the challenges that lay ahead.
So yeah, hope you enjoyed that. I'm thinking of writing the entire thing but idk yet.

Not shared, nor my shade; but something to be weaved; just as the measure of disappointment became it's own solution. But I talked my way through things forbidden, just to find myself blind in bed with those who are dead. Clumsy, but altogether natural of course, because it's consciousness what you refer in the description, yet that's what we don't get a lot about. See your deeds the way you are seen, and then return to a restless place: and the question in-between sheets will be why. Well, I just can't motivate myself to work without hot bitches staring. And that's the truth. Sad but True
— Hearfelt comment for an instagram witch.
Del desprecio a ese descarte, no he visto muchas cosas. Así se pasa una más para las cuentas, y aquí otro más para los versos, por qué aquí no hemos sido vistos. Cuánto más querría uno, que sino lo cuentas ni mucho menos piensas: << lo de este pibe que cosa más horrible>>, haciendo eso lamentable, por qué en decirlo nadie ha mentido. ¡Es horrible! Que cara es entonces la cuenta de lo que le sale a uno vivir sin más complejos; mejor seria cobrarmelo, para así saber que de algo ha valido. Bloqueame.
— Heartfelt comment for a random supermodel-to-be.
The Spirit of Fire
Flames begone, flames in spite: their warmth I felt - so I closed my fist until I could feel the warmth of my blood in my hand. And in dreams Fire came up to me and said: who am I? And I said unto him: you are bound to my bidding, thus your name misery will be. But fire wretched as he was, got closer and asked: and who are you?
And I said unto him that the blood of David ran through my veins, as I was his heir; for the mother of God claim me from death as a son. So Fire tried me, and figured it out.
You are son of woman —said Fire unto me— but as Fire acknowledged the name, I extended my left hand, and took Fire by the neck throwing him into the gound. — You are going to lace yourself to the right hand of the beast, and you'll keep him steady, so I can cleanly take him down. And Fire stayed down, and with his forehead kissing the ground asked unto me —why would the heir of David do so to earthly man?
And I said unto Fire that the beast from the abyss had left no mother for God, so I was to leave none of his body left for his head; as I was going to make it bleed until the end of the end of times.
The Spirit of Earth
Shapeless and without body, but keen within her many numbers, Earth came up to me in dreams, and said: who am I? And posessed in spirit as I was, I said unto her, that God had made her maiden again, and that she shall become the coins that Judas never received, which were to become the due payment of man and women for the body of Christ. Then I extended my right hand, and grabbed Earth by her hair —which descended deep into the abysses of hell— and cut it short so the demons of Lilith would no longer had her gripped by her back.
You are now a woman, and I'm going to rise you from the grounds. You'll lace yourself to the left hand of the beast, and keep it steady so with one shot I can cleanly take him down.
The Spirit of Air
A dream shaped by written words, whispered down for years by the currents of this Montain, and it's requiem witnessed but by a few — the end of dreams. But from where I standed at the peak, I called upon the distant currents that went down, and asked them: who am I?
And Air came unto me as bird, which had thousands of letters for feathers, and in the tongue of dead men answered.
"Somebody who only a few will remember by strange deeds; as the burden on your back, is a past tainted by impossible dreams. You were a lunatic giving new names to folk, and folk never bothered to remember —so your name must be freak, as you died in a forgotten shack some short time ago."
And as Air said these things upon me, I called Misery —as I had dubbed Fire — and told him to get inside my shot. The burden as Air had said, became lesser as i took the shot from my quiver. And I said upon Misery; that he was to set ablaze this arrow, as I was taking down the bird of Britain, and that I would do so, so God would give the deeds of Earth some better names.
The Lord is making a bridge between the empire of strength, and the last empire of men. Now by God's grace, I'm making the tongue of free men, the tongue of Spain. You will be eventually bound to my bidding, and if not me, it will be to the one I'm preceding; for I'm giving you twenty years to attone your wrongdoing. Alas, now because of your wretchedness, my shot on earthly men won't be clean, for his left leg won't stay steady.
Your old name was apathy, now I'm calling you Cisma, which in the tongue of dead men means schism. So now by the will of God lay unto the ground and say the words you've been teached. And as the arrow blazed forward, it's bending motion pierced the veil hiding the secret ladder of men. The bird of Britain catched on Fire, and it's hollering resounded throught the ladders of the mountain until the depths of the abyss. A column of air turned into fire, then violenty erupted from the vowels of the bird, and the wild fire spread as a storm from west to east all throughout the five kingdoms of men away from its own fiery wings, with a gift of misery and a few words to say.
"The name of your woman or the name of your man, will no longer explain their purpose to a man, a woman, or God. Charred words written by thunder will now be the new ladder of men — but until then, darkness upon thee."
The House of Water
I head into the coasts, and the beautiful beaches in-between, to find the stranger who burns images in the skin of men. He is the stranger, and has adopted the body of a monster, and he is one who cannot be understood, so he went on to only go out home in stunts, for the burdens in his heart have become too great to bear. Through terrible pains he has given all he once was for an identity, and as I pick up on his past, i found familiarity in the feelings of his heart. Oh dear friend how we found looking in sadness to ourselves, after doing same but with different means, carrying into our shoulders the loneliness of this world. As you have in-skin the garments of the strange doctrine that I preach — I shall congrate you, for you truly have fought the world entire, for my doctrine is the words of those who shall defeat the world entire.
I may not have your strangeness in-body, but I have it in these words, and in the true feelings of my heart. And I say in admiration that there's no higher form of art, philosophy or religion: than those who perform the highest thing they can give a name about.
Now even within solitude, and at odds with what old dead men call God, I see you and I found strength in you, as I can see you are within me, and in that, you are within everything as it should be - as is meant in everyone who does something that touches the heart of another man. I call this the kingdom of God. Yet blind men and women will wonder how can the kingdom of God possibly be within two outcasts such as you and me.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Upong giving my regards and waiting for response, I found my way into a bench. It was a warm afternoon, and the wind carried the water of the sea. The bird of Britain came about down from the wind of north, and layed on the bench were I was sitting.
The bird asked: why hast thou become this?
And I said back to bird, scorched he was and nearing death, that it was me someone who was supposed to give names, yet for years I couldn't figure out one for myself. Then on went to being given a name, Alas all the wrong ones. Did Adan gave himself a name? - I asked the bird back. And there was no response from bird. Then I continued.
A man has the essence of his soul retained by what he is seen doing. Yet I did things nobody saw, so my soul wasn't with God but with something just as ancient, and nonetheless unknown by men in its true nature — then Satan as the better known devil, came about and pushed me into a hole. It was my own doing. Yet the things I did, I thought were seen. But nonetheless what I did was without contemplation on a posible return. Just as somebody who prints an image on their own skin. It's permanent. This is the essence of a memory in the soul of the man who's seen by others. But in the familiarity of a man who picked every irreversible decision like the Alien, I find myself feeling sympathy, for the man is still not what he has been seen doing, he shall redeem himself by what he decides to turn himself into.
Is this a way of saying that you want to get yourself a tattoo? Get a new look? - the bird mockingly asked.
And I gave the scorched bird no answer.
Then the bird said unto me: what about your career as a prophet, uh? And the things you said about returning with substance? Do you actually think this is substance?
And i considered what the Bird said, then I negated with a movement of my own head. It is not i answered, but i find the memories of me not making sense unbearable. For those mean the memories of a fool, un pendejo, an insane person, or both. And I will always try to amend what I don't do well. But now I wish for only one thing, and it is to be remembered as someone who makes sense, and who out of that sense, made good upon the world. I don't expect anything in return for what I do now, as it is merely an outlet to keep me sane while I finish editing my work. It's clear I'm too incompetent to be a competent influencer. As for once, I don't care about influencing anyone into what I think; but to perform what I think it's important.
Then every proverbial student is free to take classes so as they see fit, and to interpret such classes as their comprehension gives them grasp of what it's said. In such regard, this is what I offer now, while I make the journey to Madrid. And the bird tilted it's head so as to observe me with his left eye, then after a long impasse, it made a loud and painful caw, and finally flew away. Soon after the bird flew, I looked upon the stars in the nascent night, and confessed to them, that it was the memories of who we were, what often stumps us into wrong beliefs of who we should be, maybe even wasting an entire lifetime retained by that which other people remembered us as being. But we are not the owners of our own names, the place we go, and our destiny. That's the biggest lie the western world of hollywood heros tell you, as in truth is collective agreement what determines what we look like doing and thus the meaning we should comfort to, recalling that names are practical mechanisms to remember the purpose of things, their meaning, and how their motion is described in the world.
But making the task of beating that collective belief, akin to the Nietzschean ideal of the camel turning into the lion, so as to transform it's spirit and become something else. But if it's the golden dragon of all the huamn values which judges you insane, will you be prepared to wrestle with the entire culture so as to have your way?
As I layed my eyes upon each star counting up to the number seventeen, I confessed of being scared of those beliefs, as revisiting the past, became a painful deed — and as I prepared to leave, I uttered one wish on the seventeenth point in the sky.
Lord please grant me strength, the way you have given my friend strenght.
2.
The night deepen, while the sea tide sang its own song of breathing. Some time passed, and then on the stranger showed himself approaching at the distance. I waved my hand at him, and after the instant, he found his way into my bench while I welcomed him with an extended fist which he casually bumped - after the short acknowledgement the dark alien looked at my face in between it's cover of dark, and looking at it undiscernable in its true features, with suspicion asked.
— What is it that you want?
I acknowledged him as a friend, then mentioned my brief research, as I had come to know him as man looking for a job, yet nobody would hire for things mundane due to his appearance. I listened closely to the news, and came to understand that this was a man looking for a second chance.Then I saw the intent behind his doing, and two words came to stick to my own thoughts. The first one was <> and the second one was <>. I was admired.
In analytical psychology I figured this man was the ESFP —the personality archetype related to the performer and the entertainer—, possessed in an abnormal way by the spirit by which a person submits to it's contrary nature, seeking to integrate and find fulfillment through the chase of what's perceived absent. If he was the ESFP then doing the flip by following the radial axis of each Jungian function in the stack towards their opposite resulted in the INTJ. The mastermind. The architect. The genius yet awfully complex individual. That was the elusive spirit he was chasing.
But a spirit and a character that at its most pronounced embodiment in a person, would experience life as an eternal foreigner hiding from the light of other men. Such made sense to me, for I myself was the INTJ, and had at spirit the ESFP. Him. So where as this man chased the spiritual fulfillment of being a complex and deep individual, I chased the fulfillment of becoming simpler, so I could demonstrate with action the deepest desires of my heart. One who was born plentiful in means to be liked, becomes complex, mysterious and uncomprehended, meeting one who will be seen trying to make sense becoming simpler. For Carl Jung portrayed the anima and animus of individuals, as the sense of what its absent, yet deeply cherished an valued. So I said these things to the alien, while he silently listened to me.
— All of that sounds like bullshit to me. -Said the alien after some contemplation .— Sorry but the things you say, don't mean anything to me.
And alas for I expected such response, as if one thing was true about this journey, was that explaining the journey in and of itself would become it's grimmest task. I affirmated what he just said with a slight nod of head.
— These things I say and how they relate to each other, in its excercise are similar to doing stecheometric balance with equations in the head, but simpler I'm afraid. - Then I paused, looked back into the sea, and continued. — That's high school chemistry, but I don't expect everybody to pick up on it, nor like it, nor understand it.
— Now i have called you a friend, and where I came from we dub with this title the people we share destiny with. As far as I'm concerned, we are chasing the same thing, which is the hardest posible thing. We both innately understand that we are not home, as we want our spirit to return to us, and that's not what a lot of people ever honestly try to attempt in a lifetime; as such is anyone's call to feel complete.
— And very few people ever reach true individuality, beyond the name they are imposed at birth.
Then I looked into the black alien, and in-between his foreign facial features, I interpreted something familiar. Disturbance. And I continued.
— We have given ourselves hell as we lived chasing something hard, so we can avoid the same hell later on when we are finally back to our own house. This is a christian precept, altought a rundimentary one. Does that makes sense to you?
And after listening such, the black alien calmly looked at the veil in my face in silence. Trying to discern what my face actually looked like, but the night was dark. Then turned his stare back to the reflection of the moon over the waters, giving some thought to what I just said. I opened up my backpack, and drawed two cans of beer from it. Offered one to him, and he silently refused with a gesture of hand. I popped my can and gave it a sip, while I myself stared at the tides coming in and out of the shore.
— If you wan't a tattoo, we can work that out. But this sounds annoyingly familiar, and my interest is not religious. Are you religious?
I nodded in affirmation, and complemented saying. — But my doctrine is something nobody has heard nor seen. For its aim, is doing as Christ said, in perfect means. Yet its true that the teaching fits you, as it's the teaching of the future man; and there's nothing in common between the current man and the future man, as they may very well be different species. This is the precept of evolution.
The alien seemed surprised.
— These two men don't know each other, for the current man doesn't know where the future man comes from, for he himself doesn't know where he is going. Yet in deep realization of your own artistic concept, I think you might want new ideas to meet with your appearance. So tell me, are you curious about what truly happens to a man after he dies? Do you want to learn how to read someone's mind? Do you want to blast with words of fire the hearts of an amazed crowd?
But the black alien broke his calm contemplation of what I was saying, and slighty disturbed, aggressively rebuked after hearing such.
— But you mentioned 'Christ', so you must be christian. How can a christian even say anything interesting in this current time? Last time I asked, their sayings were dreaded by restriction - so why would anyone condemn themselves to a life of bore? Are you a christian?
And I nodded after the question, in silence. Admittedly, for I knew what the problem was with being what I was, and my new companion was bang on identifying it. Made a pause, then raised my sight to where it met with the sky and the stars in it, and I said back to him.
— I am, but not one of a type you have ever seen, for the Christ that comes, is a Christ of art.
2.
The riptide sang, in its secret dialect of earth and sea. I looked upon the coast, turned an eye blind, and saw the ocean as the scorpio, and the land as the taurus; as it was the struggle between two lovers, never meant to consume each other. Ideal love then - yet not to confuse with this partnership as it was whimsilcally tied by the means in which i arranged my current conversation; for my lady somewhere waited for me. Then i allowed my eyes to rest still.
The alien looked upon me, undiscernable in my intentions, and again figured for himself that my interest towards him wasn’t clear. In suspicion, and after the moment he collected his thoughts asked “In your weird words you dubbed me performer, so what is it exactly that you wan’t from me. To me it seems like you are gathering people for some form of religious clown show. When you forced this meeting upon me, was this a proposal you thought i would find amusement in?”. And after the statement my own stare wandered in my conversation partner. While as he had his say, i returned to my can of beer, and finished it with a long gulp. Tempered in an unwillingness to fall to my new found friend irritation, i said within my own thoughts: “The alien looks easy going, but he is barbed in wit”.
Then i opened the can of beer that the stranger rejected; the loud pop resounded in the relative silence, interrupting for a moment the steady chorus of the sea. Gave it a long sip, and said.
– Theres no proposal in place yet. But im certain of something, and that is that both of us are messed individuals which reached the bottom doing the same thing - but the way my understandment of the human soul goes: two people can act by mere interaction as reactives to each other, creating a new chemical compound after the fact.
– This new psychology is very much like chemistry. But it is not my intention to draw you into something, but to pull myself out of this «something» by doing right on another person and maybe that person reflecting the good back on me. I just need a conversation partner, thats all. And i will do this with you, and with many people more. Presidents included.
The alien reflected on it, and after the hiatus of a long standing position of suspicion he finally gave in, and eased up with a slight smile. A strange smile of relief. But the smile, was all too familiar for me, as i realized the man was a tortured individual: a person in long standing pain. I smiled back the way he did, and continued.
– Our pain has a common name, and is a name that can be written with words unfortunately. It’s the devilish mother of all spiritual ills and its foundation, rests at the concept of a past that wasnt solved. It’s called «inadequeacy», and for people like you and me, understanding one day that such inadecuacy had to be solved by our own means, lead us into an act where our name changed as the changes in our cover up act to solve our inadequacy did.
– We never honored the past or the present in our pursuit, as we desired in passion to find solution to the present, by matching it into the idealization of some future without ever realizing that the old or present essence of ones being would be crushed into non existance by said future.
– Then we found the realization of that new name, only to understand that its demands became a tyranny on the other faces of our soul: as our soul is not something that can be undestood in unity, but something that conceives in the beginning in multiple things which try to give shape to one thing. Theres many people in a village, and our minds, are no exception.
— But happiness is only achieved by those who have their soul entire - or those who are the same person regardless of the context and scenario. And we gave to much to somebody that wasn't us, as our spirit took possession and lead us down.
– This is this the essence by which someone goes to hell, only to do one thing over again, getting an ever lasting pain for all the things that were given up chasing that which was absent. The more someone is forced into being shaped by the thing that was concevied in lust, the more the individual misses the place they used to call home, for that is no longer within ones reach. Does this makes sense to you?
The alien left me with no answer, and as he contemplated the sea, a tear travelled through his strange face.
– In this state of anguish, affliction rarely ever feels company, as the very individual condition that was pursued, became a full suit and persona to be forced upon and wear. Hell, is one lonely place man because we only learn to speak a language, that only makes sense to ourselves. But i think we can find a way out of it. This is why I'm here.
“Look, what you’ve done, it’s not something i can see the way you can see my own doing on me.” The alien replied. “Besides the way in which i canno’t see your face in this night, you seem ordinary — but what you talk and the way you say it, evokes in every word regret. What is it that you’ve done that has you regret like this?”
As the alien finished speaking, I emptied the can of beer, layed my eyes on the irregular grooves that my feet had left on the sand, and then replied back to him, after making a recap of the story i had repeatedly told myself after falling down.
“My story, is the fairy tale of a guy who makes way for the new coming of a new man; a better man for the world, while he casts disarray upon the earth: much to his dismay, at the expense of his own soul as the people who become victims of disasters, were ones who this man deemed unfair; cruel, evil, despicable in past. That was at the beginning."
"Theres a pile of corpses behind that character — even in covid time, people as close as the local priest of the small town he lived in, would break their neck after falling in the shower, as he had the slightest suspicion of their secret deeds. All clean deads for that matter. Untraceable to nothing but sheer randomness. Magic as it seeems. But were this folk truly evil people or even guilty of anything? You may ask - the man never knew it for sure, as he never had faculties such as godly omniscience to actually know it; which has taken a toll on him, as the burden of justice is an unberable one for anything but a god."
"Which leads to another point: spontaneously picturing random numbers in the head, associating them with psychological compounds by angular momentum, and actually being bang on the suspicion. Truth friend, in its stochastic presentation: it's unberable.”
“Consequential of such attempts to rationalize his own story in the eyes of people such as close family, my dude became clinically diagnosed with referenced thinking. Which are fancy words for schizophrenia. Nobody believed the story as it was uttered."
"Yet the consequences are there for everyone to see, altought not visible in their cause and effect by anybody but this guy, which lead him first into regret over ever starting his quest as a reformer; and then repent.”
“Now before he realized of this lets call it «curse», he preached for years over the internet as the disasters started to slowly creep up. He preached in a fashion parallel to Niestzches Zarathustra; Zarathustra meaning a famous philosophical device artificied by the philosopher Niestzche, who’s aim was to portray the best posible man, as something he dubbed the <<Übermensch>> ”.
“Such concept being the seemingly more elegant brand of a humanist ideal for a not so distant future: today - albeit a wrong one, for this guy was not dyonisian himself. The backbone of his framework, is analytical psycholgy becoming a chariot for a true understandment of human nature: and ultimately a facilitator for love within light: not within ignorance; not within darkness. Most philosophers today though would mock anything analytical in it's aim."
"Then on the guy preached and dwelved further into the relative hole of his own doctrine: and became imprisoned by what he didn’t got right at first attempt, making him in the process the character that Nietzsche from the comfort of his own writers seat, never attempted to actually embody within realistic means: eventually figuring out within himself the ultimate Nietzschean aristocrat: a magic pen granted by being capetian by mother: from judah by father."
"But Alas, you have no idea how common suicide is within philosophers after they finish their best work. As language, becomes the ultimate barrier for understandment, and then to ones capacity to feel love. Difference — true saliency in ones individual destiny— leads to the gravest posible pain. Ironic isn’t it?”
“Besides technical work with a new form of psychology inspired by analytical chemistry, as that drawed from his efforts during the light of day, five years ago, once he felt the urge to try to reach out to the world from a position of what he deemed was greater understandment: he primitively preached during night his new set of ideas for people to behave beyond the limitations of manipulative psychology, albeit a harsh doctrine meant to clear the way for a better product: Christ himself."
"This is not a doctrine a human being can actually perform, as such its christianity at its highest capacity to bear fruit. It’s an impossible doctrine, yet solves the oldest problem posed in the bible. All which sounds very sci-fi bullshit-y but actual problems started for the protagonist in this tale, when the preaching matched with terrible consequences. Not figurative, but within tangible reality.”
“So just as we talk, theres a small legion of hackers pretending to be doing internet social experiments while talking in an artsy matter: much in my own style, entertaining the exact same concepts - a legion of dangerous monkeys, i have no control over."
"One of the many unexpected consequences being this, yet prompted by something evil; ancient: essentially replicating what my protagonist developed and then preached over the years, while these "hacktivists" lay their attention on things and people, as they select them and enforce upon them strict surveillance, to behave properly. Then to destroy them, as they did in 2020 with many corporations and institutions.A bizarre combination of theater actors to my own liking, and then cyber-security demigods: omniscient in their claims to surveill, and they are - derivative such of another device of what I've done; which is to build a theater so people can make-believe that they are infact performing within themselves something greater - but that's matter for another story."
“Most of the corpses piling up flat out dead, have no relation to him whatsoever; they became victims as my protagonist took measures to fight back the monster he found at the foundation of the known world. This is not an elaborate analogy for one's own unseen capacity for evil, as i mean this: a monster as literally as it can be. For these things friend, im doomed as in true strenght, i have nothing but the pen i use to write down what i think albeit always at danger of it’s eventual inversion. I have no real friends left. Not one who can understand, or help bear the pain: as friendship and love are all gated by understandment."
"The full story has many more vertients, but i think i’ve done it enough justice. This is the predicament of an insane man chased by his own shadow as he builds a better man: one who delivers heavenly things, and then a shadow stringed to deliver tyranny as the very strings behind him make the better man stumble while he tries to keep a grasp of his own spirit, and then of his own soul."
"That monster behind, is wicked smart — and cannot be outwitted nor overpowered but anything but divine smite."
“I’m heading now to a new country, to try to get friends from the only institution in the world who knows and adresses the current times being, and who by extension, might believe me. And to clarify, these being the end of times; but not the end of the world. Yet now i myself have a damocles sword pending over my own head, and i need to do something about it before it falls.”
And as i said these things, i reached out to my backpack drawing a third can of beer from it — besides my own super laptop, thats what my backpack had: an infinite supply of beer. Corona, Indio, Victoria, Dos Equis, Heineken; you name it. I popped the can, and gave it a long and definite sip as i emptied it complete.
The alien didn't try to show that he understood, but stood still in silence, with his sight in the sand below and pressing lips, knowing by my demeanor; that these things as I've said them was something that I needed to do. Then he said: "I don't follow man. You say you preach and then disasters occur. Like a prophet from the bible?"
"Yes. Then I preached to get rid of the things that are actually making the world worse, and something awoke soon after, and since then; everything I do is subject to being misinterpreted due to the diffamatory action of this thing. Now everytime I do something, it can be twisted and turned against my original intent. Right now the hackers are my worst problem: I may have a degree in computers but I have no fucking idea whatsoever of hacking. I earn my living as an A.I engineer.".
The alien raised his sight to meet with mine, and after doing some contemplation on the fact, quite simply said: "You are insane". Then lowered his own sight, and raised it again to meet with the sea and continued. "If you want a tattoo, we can work that out. But either way and whatever parts of your story are true and even worse; the ones you may be lying about: you sound dangerous in a delusional kind of sense, and my life is hard enough as is."
I pressed my fists, knowing then the old same thing had happened again. For I had never forced anything upon anybody, and I was willing to respect that until the bitter end. Then I released the build up of frustration with a loud sigh, and after this amend, I replied back.
"I understand and respect it. But let me just propose you that if you ever want to figure what is beyond life as it's lived by person who has never seen what is like to be someone you write a great story about; you can pin me, and I'll show you what's beyond that door. Give it some thought."
The alien; The Black Alien Project stayed there sitting, spechless but calm, almost expecting something else to be convinced about. But pointless, for i knew that nobody can be forced into anything without bringing a transgression into play – and i wasn’t one to taint myself in sin if it could be avoided. Not anymore.
3.
I made the distance at steady pace walking along the shore, until i found a small group of pines in-between the liminal space of the beach and the land. I sat with one of the pines trunk behind my back, and drawed the Schizo Pills from my eternal supply of traveller goodies.
Quetiapine 100 mg, and Olanzapine 10 mg, i made a smaller fragment from the olanzapine pill, and swallowed both complete. As their side effects were concerned, they would soon knock me out of conscience, as this little ritual was my own way of calling the day complete – then i layed there, vigilant, waiting for my own drowsiness to claim me into sleep - but the Bird of Britan came flying from above, and stood besides me.
\Chirp, Chirp, Chirp**
I watched the bird, annoyed, as its presence had become an omen for contempt. For me and the death people of my past. I frowned upon the little shit, and said nothing. The bird made a little nod, while tilting its head in excentricity the way birds do, and replied. — Hey Andrew!, do you remember when you tried to penetrate your own computer to make a universe grow inside of it? I just wan’t to know something: did your computer moan? Did it finally learnt how to scream your name?
\Chirp Chirp**
Ignoring the bird, i closed my eyes and stayed like that for a long moment, hoping to make the bird think i was asleep. Maybe that would make him leave.
— Can’t bullshit me like that Sweetheart. So please tell me something; why don’t you command one of your supermodels; these muses, to come here and warm the bed for you. It's a cold night and you seem lonely brah
. \Chirp Chirp**
I opened my eyes, and irritated, pointed menacingly at the bird turning my left hand into an imaginary gun. I had already failed at something today, and wasn’t convinced i needed the memory of the things i failed at before. Not now.

• Hol’ up cowboy ! you wan’t to bang my bird ass when you should be banging a bitch ass. What happened with Tyrone huckleberry? Did you managed to make him as impotent as you are right now? —I held steady my hand; and tired, the tempation to pull again the trigger on the bird was growing larger. I saw red roses in my own sight, making a terrible omen for a migraine forthcoming. Said nothing.

— The glowniggers are out there brah. You may not be a hacker – and its true, but i took notice of your last words: so now the glowies are going to instead dreambooth* people into every posible kind of scenario of extorsion, while they surveil like a motherfucker. Like you dream boothed yourself for your little ahem "art project". Then we will use Suno*, then Sora* when it open sources. Are you going to protect your hoes?
Said nothing.

• Alright cowboy, i will give meaning to that revelations verse. What was it? Ah yes. Revelations 9:6. Every single person with an internet history will be as paranoid as you were in 2020. Everyone will be diffamated into acts of political terrorism! Aren’t you am-

And as i pulled the imaginary trigger from the imaginary pistol, an imaginary arrow in the sky descended with a blaze of not so imaginary flames on the Bird of Britain, engulfing the little shit in heat, and making it’s body explode into a gore of scorched viscera. As if the bird was in a microwave oven. I inmediately gasped as the explosion was too close from where i was sitting - after the conmotion, stared at the red and burned stain in the floor, and left my sight rest there, as sleep finally found its way into my restless thoughts.
"No longer care for love unless it's between good friends”. Said to myself. There was certainly a migraine coming, but maybe my dreams would help convince it otherwise. And as far as the hoes were concerned, Furious Angels would be there for them. Like the Rob Dougan song.
4.
Found my own mind after the slumber – asleep, then awake. I realized several hours passed - at least enough to wake up and witness the sun rise above the sea. But as for dreams, the light veil of their memories wasn't something to rely upon. But i did remember something, and it was some overtone in dread; an atmosphere of fear – and a kind of dread sustained in it’s inevitability by the urgency that builds upon dearth.
Now what exactly was it though? I couldn’t remember from my dreams, but ever since i falled to my own death i had always present in mind the future succesion of events that would follow when things started to go very wrong. Iran, the U.S, Israel - now whatever was it in the news; the outcome would be the same. A thousand more cuts to an already languishing economy. Make that corpse bleed, and then fall off a cliff.
As such things would be cooked, just as the bird of britain. The bird was still there though: just in pieces and roasted like the contents of a dropped KFC bucket would. But the little shit would return - as it always did. The economy? Not so much.
Yet i digress. None of the world circumstances mattered as far i was concerned – i had built a small and portable solar system to power my laptop, and my beer supply was well, infinite - i made myself sure that i had my needs covered whatever happened around me. Not tied to even a house for that matter. I incorporated myself and gave my back a stretch. The morning breeze coming from the sea evocated in my memories some time that had long passed – late childhood. I rejected those memories as they beared with them things i didnt wan’t to remember - then wen’t on as usual in my morning routine scrolling through my instagram feed, figuring if there were any new hoes to maybe motivate me into doing my God imposed labour.
Labour which was to either write, or to finish the House of Water — then after scrolling i did in fact saw a new hoe; i dropped a Faux Pas comment. Maybe she would play along, maybe not. Whatever. Sometimes I would put in a lot of effort to do a rhyme. But the effort depended on the insta-hoe in question. I know. Not the best of habits, but back in elementary school i was the kind of kid that would only get motivation when the girls in the classroom were present in physEd. And then i would run faster: whole lotta faster. Run Forrest! Run! Women love used to fuel me; and the habit sticked — and at the moment, i was kinda done with the idea of female trascendence. Would rely on their love, but not on their validation. Not like a simp. Fuck that.
Furthermore, what results did i demonstrably mustered after pursuing true egalitarianism and sharing it? Exactly. A bitch gonna do what a bitch gonna do, and so does the human female. After publishing the comment, I locked my phone and walked towards the highway, as i was planning to pay a visit to somebody long forgotten - I had kind of a schedule that i was going to follow, before taking the plane to Madrid and become hispanic Jon Snow from the walgreens Nightwatch.