Excuse if this is a little messy. I hardly use reddit, and this entire situation is stressing me out to the point of shakiness and illness. On that not, onto the story.
So, for a bit of context, I am a very, very new adult. I just graduated high school, and I've never had the best relationship with my family besides my mom and brother. I was still very distant from my mom because of some slight neglect in the past. I don't blame her for it because she's a single mom and was working a very hard job.
Extra context, my mom had also been planning a California trip. She had changed the plans every other day. Me and my fiance couldn't keep up with it, especially because he had a work venture there.
The past few months, I had been going out with my boyfriend, now fiance ( we'll call Ax ). My mom had been pretty hard on me because of this. Saying how, "I'm not home enough," and, "I need to help with (this this and this)." So, I was already getting a little fed up. I just wanted an escape from the house which is honestly not a very healthy living space due to my fairly slobbish family. Everytime I would go home she would bombard me with stuff, which I never had to do before, so it made me want out more.
I'm just going to summarize the build up by saying, there were quite a few arguments and she never seemed to listen to me. I also have a super hard time communicating my feelings and confrontation so participating in an argument is a big deal.
Now we get to the big night. The last thing we "talked" about was the California trip and how Ax's parents won't let him go if we stay at her friend's house. She got upset and stormed off. Me and Ax were upset so we went to his birth mom's ( we'll call her Cat ) house to take a break. It didn't really help. I had gotten fed up with all of the arguing and bitterness from my mom. All of the snide comments to Ax. I texted her that I was moving out and wasn't going on the California trip. ( I was moving into Cat's house. )
Now should I have texted her? Probably not, but texting helps me form my thoughts into words. I express more clearly through text, and shut down on the phone and especially in person.
She calls and I freak out and hand the phone to Ax. Mistake number 2. A bit about Ax, he is very very protective of me, especially with some of the stuff I've told him about my family and my dad. He doesn't want me to go through the same thing again. He's also a big jokester but is autistic so he doesn't really get when not to do some of his joking tones and words. They also come off as very disrespectful sometimes and he was kind of tired of her. So my mom is angry.
She tells me to come home within 5 minutes. I very shaky get in the car and we head there. We get there and she takes the keys to the car and my phone. Tells me to come inside and talk alone. Now, I get where she's coming from, but I HATE feeling cornered. I need someone else there by my side or I just shut down. It socks and makes things a lot harder with this kind of stuff. Now the rest is a but of a blur but she gets aggressive. No physical violence, but she does get in my face. I back up and she starts acussing me of telling people I'm violent though I haven't. It blurs again and suddenly I'm packing my things and leaving. My brother (15) by my side sad to see me leave this way.
The night goes by and I hear nothing from her. The next day she texts. I don't remember many of the texts, but I do remember being stressed out and not replying to things often. I tell her I need some time.
Few days go by with few texts I answer and a couple calls I don't. Then we get to church just a few days after the big night and an argument over text starts. She acusses Ax of lying, stealing, and vandalizing her car. The "lying" was a joke he made about his origins that I took seriously at first, I am a very slow person, that he had not realized I took seriously until very very later on. On the stealing, he had not stolen from some of the places acussed, but we did have a separate incident that was true. However, he's done his best to make it up and has not done anything like it since. He got punished by me and his parents. She still thinks he should've gotten worse. He's especially tried to make it up to my mom because he had lost her full trust and she was very obvious about it and still hasn't forgiven him to this day. The vandalizing was him working on the car, but not fixing it fully, because, we'll, she took the car before he could.
I talked about getting my legal documents, the entire point I was texting her in the first place, she brought up Ax herself. I misunderstood her and thought she was wanting to keep them from me so threatened legal action. I won't go deep into this because I'm not a lawyer, but ultimately it was more a threat to get my stuff. She said that I could get my stuff from the garage. Remember when I told you that my family was slobish? Yeah, I have no clue where these documents are and the garage is stacked to the sealing so it's going to take me a bit. I don't want to, but it's the only way to get my documents.
I completely give up at this point. I already said I needed a bit of time, but she continued to text. When I didn't answer email me a mental health line. The only times I would talk to her was to get my stuff. She started making facebook posts warning about toxic relationships, and how losing loved ones without making peace is terrible. This continues for a bit then stopped a couple days ago. The last thing I got, just a few hours ago, was an email. I will be quoting it word for word but changing names blah blah, you know how privacy works.
"Hi, [deadname]! I hope everything is going well for you.
I just wanted to take some time to explain some things. I wanted to tell you these things in person because it really does matter. Reading something is far different from hearing how someone says it. Arguments and misunderstandings should always be fixed in person.
First and foremost, I love you. I would do anything within my power for you. I have always been there for you and I want to continue being there. It breaks my heart that you don't want anything to do with me. I've tried to make you feel loved and supported. I've been active in your interests and activities. I even played Minecraft for you... (Haha)
I wanted to talk to you privately because we will never be able to fix things between us if someone else is involved. And honestly, it's no one else's business. I've never physically or intentionally hurt you so there is no reason to be scared to spend time with me.
What I have tried to tell you through text, is that I did not blow up because you wanted to move out. My response was that we would talk when you got home. That was not blowing up and this is why it is important to communicate in person rather than via text. I wanted to know your plans and see if I could help or add some suggestions that might help. I blew up because of the disrespect. I was being treated like I was nothing and like I've done nothing for you. I tried to explain that I wasn't mad about you wanting to move out. I'm not sure why you thought I would be since we've been talking about it for 6 months.
I apologize to you for how I handled my thoughts and feelings about [Ax]. It shouldn't have been handled that way. I'm not mad that either of you made mistakes. I was mad at the lack of taking ownership of said mistakes. I was mad that I was lied to again when I called out those mistakes.
I just want us to work through this. I love you. I will always love you. I want to help you if and when I can. I always want to be a part of your life. I am hurt that you can so easily throw away our relationship because of one argument. I am hurt that you're acting like I've done something for you to be afraid of me.
My door is always open and I'm always just a phone call away.
Love, Mom"
It makes me feel like I'm in the wrong and I'm actually unsure if I'm being to harsh on her. AITH?
TLDR; I move in with my fiancé. Arguments with mom as she acusses us of things we didn't do besides one thing. Im tired and stressed so go almost no contact. I get an email from her making me rethink my position on the matter.
Edit 1 and 2: Updates to layout of the post.

Sweat dripped down Don Carmichel’s face, the sweltering air stank of sulfur. His ankle twisted in in the opposite direction, bits of bone were poking through his dungarees. He dragged himself toward the entrance, gravel cut into his hands. Sharp pain agonized his every move, the torn muscle in his leg screamed. He crawled toward door, he only to get out and seal the exit. It was supposed to have been a simple plan, but simple plans don’t succeed in the face of the enemy.
Donald Carmicheal was a private investigator just outside of Baltimore Maryland. He had grown tired of spying on unfaithful couples and answered an add in the hills of Pennsylvania. B&N Mining were in search of a good spy to infiltrate their workers. Whispers of a Union traveled and the mining company had no tolerance for a strike. The country was still reeling from the Battle of Blair Mountain a few years prior.
Don agreed to the assignment and began to work as a miner. The hours were long and hard in the dark coal mines. He would cough up black soot every night and his body ached. He overheard the fellow workers talk about being paid poorly and in company scrip. They would go to work injured because they couldn’t afford a doctor and most of them looked half starved. Don didn’t blame them for wanting better pay and it was hard for him not to take thier side, but he was hired to do a job for B&N.
The workers spoke of a rally lead by Stanly Collins, a member of the United Mine Workers. Stanly traveled and began unions in various mining towns around Pennslyvania and West Virginia. His voice was loud and charismatic, and within him the worn faces of the workers found hope .
Don reported this to the Higher Ups, and they assigned the private investigator with finding any dirt on Stanly. The man was clean, didn’t drink, didn’t so much as smoke, went to church and doted on his ten year old son. There was no talk of a wife, so Don figured the man was a widower.
The higher ups thought about killing Stanley in an accident, but that would make him a martyr and the workers would strike to spite B&N. No, they needed to create a distraction for Mr. Collins, a way to stop him in his tracks. Mr. Collins had a ten year old son, Caleb, that son was their advantage.
They asked Don to catch him and hide him in a mine shaft until . It would only be for a couple of days, and the boy would be unhurt. All he had to do was keep an eye on him, after Mr. Collins agreed to call off the strike his boy would be returned back to him unharmed, it was as simple as that.
The prospect didn’t sit well with Don, but who was he to argue with the Higher Ups, he’d seen how they handled defiance before. Getting fired and evicted would be the least of his problems if he were to disobey.
The Higher Ups told Stanly’s son Caleb worked as hurrier for the mine. He would load coal carts and help push them through narrow passages that grown men were too big to fit through. Caleb would report the horrible conditions back to his Papaw and his Papaw would run his mouth to the UMW. It wouldn’t be hard to find Caleb after a shift and catch him.
Don walked on over to where the hurriers worked, the shaft was so short that he had to walk bent over. He jumped as a mine cart sideswiped him, the small brat pushing it yelled out “ watch where you’re going mister.” Don didn’t pay him no mind, the whelp would grow bow legged and stooped, succumbing to black lung like the rest of his unwashed brethren.
Don was saving Caleb from a life of servitude. Even if he followed in his father’s footsteps and organized unions, how much better could the bowls of the earth be? There’d always be hard work and heavy coal, no union would change that.
He found Caleb with a group of other boys. Soot covering his face, only white sleeveless shirt and dungarees. A boy his age should be fishing or playing in the woods , not digging in no mine shaft. His father’s hypocrisy knew no bounds when it came to getting his agenda across. If Stanly Collins cared about his son, he would be in school, along with all the other children.
Don walked up to the boy and kneeled to his level. “Are you Caleb Collins?”
“Yes Sir,” said the boy. His voice sounded tired and older than his years.
“I have some bad news, you’re daddy has been hurt awful bad, and I need you to come with me.”
Instead of looking surprised, Caleb stared at him with deep black eyes. The stare made Don’s blood turn cold.
“It’s urgent, he…uh… he needs you now,” Don managed to stutter out, his tongue had turned to clay.
“Yes Sir,” was all the boy said.
Don’s stomach dropped in that moment and he almost reconsidered his plan. He took a deep breath. Donald Carmicheal wasn’t terrified of no ten year old. He was going to take him somewhere deep in the mine and hold him until his daddy agreed to negotiate with the Higher Ups.
As he led the boy deeper down the mine shaft Don’s uneasiness grew. He thought about quitting, telling boy the truth and letting him go back to work, hell, letting the boy leave the mine all together. But the higher ups would put his head on a pike if he even considered this to be an option.
“Where are ya taken me?” asked Caleb. His voice had gone flatter and his whole eyes had turned solid black for a second.
“It… It’s just a little further down the mine shaft, son.”
“I ain’t your son! My daddy works on the upper levels, why ain’t you bringing me there?”
“Y…You’re father was on a special project with us, please it’s just a little further-”
“No he ain’t , the owner’s of this here mine would never let him in on a higher project.”
“D... don’t make this hard for me, boy.”
“You have no idea who I am, do you sir?”
Don turned around and once again, Caleb’s eyes went coal black. Inky tendrils of shadow formed and went up the walls of the mine. Stone cracked and crumbled around them. The boy’s skin cracked and peeled into oozing sores as he crept towards him.
“What in hell are you?” Don began to run up the mineshaft, but the inky coils formed on the rocks around him, forming fissures and cracks. The air turned hot and stank of sulfur as the mine began to crumble underneath them.
“I think you already know.” Caleb’s voice turned flat and was so deep it made Don nauseous and uneasy. It was old scratch himself, coming to collect on his soul. He should have sided with Stanly and the miners. He could have found an assignment with the UMW and helped turn the situation on thier side. Helped them organize a strike so it gave them doctors and schools but now it was too little too late.
Caleb followed him , his tendrils grasping for Don through the stone. The child’s skin flaked off as oily tentacles grabbed at Don. The workers panicked and ran out toward the exit, causing a jam at the door, their screams echoing in the chamber the stone began to crumble.
“Let them go, this is between us, they don’t need to suffer, what would you’re daddy think-”
“My daddy? You mean my host.” With that the monster’s tendrils went out through the staircase, toppling it and the crowd to the depths below. As they screamed in terror a boulder fell smashing in on Don’s ankle. Waves of excruciating pain went through his body causing him to vomit. The smell of sulfur and half digested fried chicken was too much for him to bear, his lungs tightened for air. The staircase was gone, but a narrow path that led toward the exit, cool breeze exited the doorway, giving him a ray of hope.
Caleb slammed down blocking his exit. Inky, oily tendrils snaked around Don’s body and squeezed tight, the veins in Caleb’s forehead grew larger as Don’s life force leached away. His body weakened as his eyes closed for the final time. Half the workers managed to make it out alive, Stanly among them. Cries echoed from the outside as the mine collapsed in on itself.
In the weeks following the mine collapse, the B&N mine company negotiated with the United Mine Workers for a fair deal. Stanlhy Collins and his son Caleb quit the mining business and settled into the nearby village of Junction Maryland, where Stanly was elected sheriff. He was thankful to be one of the few that made it out of the mine alive.
Though he was unsure where his son came from, he never remembered ever having a wife. Whenever he thought to question the boy, he looked at him with solid black eyes, and Stanly always forgot the question. It was all well and fine , they would make peace in this small town.

I don't really want this to go viral or anything but sincerely just want to put all in one place all the things I know about the situation because I don't think it's with people I know irl....
TDLR: true off my chest, my mom is almost certainly emotionally cheating on my dad based on what he's told me and I know way too much about this situation.
My mom was the typical housewife when I was growing up, very young mom to another guy whose out of the picture entirely; I literally can't even remember the dude's face.
My real dad met her when she was still young, single mom and he still fell for her. He loves her so much. His devotion is really boundless for his family; he was a kind of typical dad when I was growing up, working long hours to move up the corporate ladder, make money to get the four of us out of an apartment and into a house. Us older kids, we were his kids, no doubt about it, even when they had two more kids.
He wasn't perfect. He got angry when he dealt with shitty clients all day and came home to a chaotic household. He would get mad/sulky if I didn't great him at the door. He spanked the boys. He broke the glass table once, when he was really angry.
At the time, obviously, my mom was the stay at house mom, cooked and cleaned.... With hindsight, I think her child rearing could've really used some work. We were left alone a lot, her still in the house, but working on finishing school. We were put into after school activities to keep us engaged, but she never really played with us or gave us activities like I feel a stay-at-home mom should. She let me tell her about her day, but she never really engaged with what I said to her, just listened. Maybe she didn't listen.
I remember one time she had a college class and I can't even remember how old I was.... maybe 4? But she left me outside the class as it got dark, because she knew I was a good kid and wouldn't go anywhere.
They were probably too young for this many kids, or maybe even kids at all. Us older kids definitely contributed to raising the other two, we'd babysit on date nights, etc. Not often. But enough.
But my parents eventually made their way to a couples therapist. things got a lot better, for a few years. My dad worked on his anger issues, mellowed out a lot, and they became all about the love languages and how to love each other and us well.
When I moved out for the first time, things seemed good. They seemed stable at least.
But now, 6 years later things have felt.... Weird. What I type below is a mix of things I saw and things my dad told me.
With hindsight, my mom definitely has taken up a lot more space for herself. She works a lot of hours and put the youngest two into a LOT of extracurriculars. The youngest, she said, should be well rounded with their extracurriculars.
Sports. Music. Scouts. She wanted to put him in an art or language class to be "well-rounded". I personally feel like she just doesn't want to raise the kid after school. They're left home alone A LOT. As in, I will call them in the afternoon and they're home alone because everyone else is at work, or the gym or whatever.
I worry for that one.
During last Thanksgiving, my dad said my mom is starting to "blossom". She's always been an introvert, never had many friends, has been a touch judgemental, and stayed off social media. But now she's making work friends, engaging with the community and totally leaving my dad and the kids behind to some degree. She never invites anyone, they have to ask.
But he wants her to grow. He wants her to have friends, so he encourages it.
He starts stepping up around the house; with the pandemic, he became able to work from home half the week, so he does, he drives the younger kids when they need it, manages the house, even learned to cook.
My mom makes a new friend. A guy.
And she's had guy friends before. But my dad says the majority of her texts are with him. She's now on social media.... Posting things for him.
When they go to family events and things, she text him pictures of the events and pictures of herself... Nothing sexy as far as I'm aware, but I can't think of a single guy friend she'd be texting photos of herself unless he's gay and she's looking for fashion advice (he's not gay). And she always seeks him out.
My dad told me this, basically crying. This is the moment I think she may be emotionally cheating.
How can you spend all your time thinking about someone your not with, talking with them almost 24/7 unless you're intensely emotionally invested?
I personally fuck with the LGBTQ+ community, I think my mom is demi and this is so very very close to cheating, as close as you can get without touching.
SHe meets this guy a lot without my dad.
So my dad begs her to go back to couples therapy with him, and she does.
She puts up the boundary that my dad is not allowed to interfere with her friends, that he's just being overly jealous. The therapist poses the thought to my dad "if she decides to cheat on you, there's nothing you can do". The boundary, she told me. The words, my dad told me.
Obviously that hurts.
My dad asks her if she's in love with him (my dad). And she says no.
Obviously my dad is so hurt by this, but their time is up and they have dinner plans with friends.
My dad does not want to go. He begs her not to go.
She makes him go.
She makes him go put on a happy face with their friends when she just probably broke his heart.
I was there that night, for the holidays at that point. I sat with my dad, put a shoulder to his. I didn't know the details of it all, but I saw my dad texting their therapist and saw when he came home and it wasn't good.
When we get home, my mom says "so what do we want to do, family movie? Game night?" I balk. What the fuck is she talking about? Why doesn't she give a shit about my dad, someone she's spent twenty years with who's never shown her anything but devotion?
I say no, and entertain my siblings while my parents go upstairs and talk? for literally 3 hours.
I get called in when I'm getting ready for bed, trying to ignore anything coming from their room.
My mom promises it's nothing crazy, they're not getting divorced.
What?
I just want to go to bed at that point.
The next day, my mom takes me out, explains some of her side of the story but never elaborates on how she hurt my dad so much , just saying he's not allowed to interfere with her friends. I don't ask about that guy.
She says "your dad asked a question that he didn't want the answer to. He got upset when I answered honestly, because you know I'm always honest"
She's a snob and judgemental of emotions so I just stop asking questions.
My dad is trying so hard to keep it together guys.
He has all these tools from dealing with his anger issues, hes's meditating, he's taking complete care of the youngest kids, as best as he can.... He once told me he was scared to lose my mom (like, her dying) because he'd have no idea how to take care of the kids. I kind of think that's what happened.
He's no longer himself. He's quiet. He's very thoughtful. He's so self-controlling.
All this, changing almost everything of himself and she says nothing. He asks her for acknowledgement, a thank you and she says "You should be changing for you, not for me"
I am almost scared for him.
On mother's day, he did everything to make it special for her. He encouraged the younger kids to make her breakfast, take her out for the day, she got to go to the spa with her lady friends.
She never thanked him. She never thanks him for his support.
He finally realized that it's a fight. someone has to give in, either her, just SEE him, or he's going to give up someday.
How do I feel about all this?
I might hate my mom. She's a shitty partner, and not a very good parent right now either. I think regardless of how she views it, she is putting this one guy on a pedestal over everything else in her life. I think she is just waiting for my dad to give up.
Part of me wants to tell him, that she's stubborn as al hell and she's not gonna give up. I think he knows it.
But he loves her so much, and I don't think I should know even half of any of this, but I've seen too much. I know too many things that I'm not allowed to tell anyone.
should I encourage him to tell her that even if she doesn't see this coming to a divorce, that's where it's heading? Should i encourage him to divorce her?
Should I explain to him what emotionally cheating is?
God, the youngest kids. They're the ones suffering the most of this and I don't even know if they know it.
I wish every conversation I had with anyone in that household doesn't have me standing there with the question on the tip of my tongue; "do you know this is going to end and painfully?"
I wish I could see my mom as a good mom again. I wish I could see my dad a whole person again.
Thanks for reading and while this is a true off my chest, god I'd probably take any advice.

"I want to pick *points* this player and *points* that pl— oh wait, that's just a mannequin in similar clothes."

Mannequin (Outsider): Once per night, when a player chooses a player, they might register as choosing you instead, if legal. You then learn the real chosen player.

The Mannequin quietly takes the place of one player in up to one choice each night.

• Resolving the affected ability happens between the two sentences of the Mannequin ability. Any effects the ability would have on the Mannequin are applied before they learn who they replaced. If they are no longer a living Mannequin when they would learn this, they don't.
• The change is momentaneous, not maintained: Once the choice has been misregistered, it remains changed for the purposes of anything that later checks what was chosen before, even if the Mannequin is dead or droisoned. The choice itself was recorded incorrectly, and the record isn't fixed by the Mannequin not having the ability to do that again.
• Players who think they have an ability but don't can still choose players. It might not affect anything through the ability they don't have, but the Mannequin still learns their real choice.
• A droisoned Mannequin can't redirect any choices while droisoned, but they can wake to learn an arbitrary name anyway. If they're droisoned by the ability they redirect, they can learn an incorrect name, or not wake at all.

Jinx

• Butler: If a player with the Butler ability has their choice changed by the Mannequin, they learn who the Mannequin is.

I don't know why you'd do this as an ST, but the Butler ability doesn't work unless the Butler knows who they're choosing and why, so it needs a jinx.

Examples

The Monk chooses to protect the Fortune Teller. The Mannequin is protected instead, and learns the Fortune Teller's name.
The Fortune Teller chooses the Imp and the Soldier. The Fortune Teller receives a no. The Mannequin wakes to learn the Imp's name.

If the picker chooses multiple players, the Mannequin only replaces one of them, and only learn the one they replaced.

The Vigormortis chooses to kill the Sage. The Mannequin dies instead, and does not learn the Sage's name.

The second part of the ability never resolves because the Mannequin lost the ability partway through.

The Alchemist Poisoner chooses to poison the No Dashii. The Mannequin is poisoned instead, and may or may not learn a player's name.

This poison does not undo the "choice" of the Mannequin instead of the No Dashii. The poison does however come into effect before the Mannequin would be told who was really picked, so they may learn the wrong player or nothing at all.

The Alchemist Devil's Advocate chooses the Poppy Grower. The Mannequin is protected from execution. The next night, the Alchemist Devil's Advocate chooses themself. The Mannequin cannot replace this, because the ADA would have chosen them two nights in a row. (The ADA could also legally have chosen the Poppy Grower.)

"if legal" prevents the Mannequin from being "chosen" by a character that shouldn't be able to choose them tonight.

The Lunatic chooses to "attack" the Ravenkeeper. The Mannequin learns the Ravenkeeper's name. The Lleech learns that the Lunatic chose the Mannequin. The Lleech follows suit and kills the Mannequin.

Why does it learn?

Even working only once per night, this seems like it would be a rather destructive form of misregistry, likely enough that most players with this ability would self-nominate day 1.
But I also want getting rid of the Mannequin to be a valid option for the good team, for the same reason. Thus, no "even if dead".
So how do we keep it from being unfun to stay alive longer than necessary?
The information part of the ability is a carrot for the Mannequin. If the Mannequin can work out who was affected, it can be used to reverse engineer how and why the ability was used, and facilitate some amount of confirmation between the Mannequin and players whose abilities were redirected.
It also acts as a balancing measure against STs using the ability in certain overly punishing ways.
For example, imagine you're the Mannequin in the Fortune Teller example above, and you manage to connect with the Fortune Teller. Hmmm, kind of interesting that the Storyteller used the ability to redirect an FT's pick away from the Imp player, isn't it? That's arguably more suspicious than an FT yes on its own, considering the existence of the red herring mechanic and the ambiguity of which of the two players is giving off the yes. But only if the FT and the Mannequin are able to trust each other.
This also makes it potentially useful for ST's to occasionally use the Mannequin ability even when it wouldn't actually change the result, for evil players to bluff having picked the player the Mannequin is claiming to have learned, or for Minions to bluff being the Mannequin (wouldn't recommend it for Demons without a backup life).
In short, I think the Mannequin learning who they replaced is far more interesting for everyone involved, including the Mannequin themself. It gives the Mannequin something to do while alive and a chance to mitigate or even utilize the damage their ability does without necessarily sacrificing an execution and a good player's democratic powers.

Interactions

Townsfolk

• Alchemist: Some Alchemist abilities are often avoided because the Alchemist might pick the Demon. The Mannequin could mitigate this a bit... while alive.
• Amnesiac: If you use this on an Amnesiac that hasn't bingo'd, you might be a jerk.
• Chambermaid: One of the reasons the Chambermaid is so strong is that most Demons wake every night. The Mannequin can give the Chambermaid a +0 instead of the Demon's +1, since any Mannequin that can still mess with Chambermaid info tonight necessarily has not woken yet. (The Mathematician has a jinx to account for it waking after the Chambermaid, but I see no reason to do the same favor for a Mannequin that is actively being used to mess with the Chambermaid.) The trade-off is of course that the Mannequin learns who they subbed in for, which could be devastating if it gets back to the Chambermaid.
• Dreamer: There's a really mean thing an ST could do here: Each night, the Dreamer picks a different player... and gets "Mannequin / [evil character]".
• Exorcist: Like in the DA example above, the Exorcist can't be Mannequin'd two nights in a row.
• Huntsman: If you use the Mannequin on a Huntsman who actually picked the Damsel for once, I become the Huntsman and hunt you down. I bet you added the Damsel on top of the Outsider count too.
• Lycanthrope: Usually when the Lycanthrope's kill doesn't land, it implies the target is evil or the Lycan droisoned. But the Mannequin can attract the Lycan kill to itself, saving the target while still preventing other deaths that night. This doesn't actually say anything about the Lycan target's alignment, but it's worth questioning why the ST would deny both the Lycan and the Demon their intended kills using an Outsider ability. If the target is evil, it offers deniability. If they're good, why were they saved? Is evil stomping? Are they another Outsider?
• Mathematician: I've been going back and forth on how exactly this works (specifically whether the Math reacts to the redirection if it has a different outcome, checks whether the outcome was correct with the Mannequin chosen, or both), but it boils down to "math makes headaches".
• Nightwatchman: "Hey, Andy, I got some mail addressed to you. It said Benny is the Nightwatchman."
• Professor: The Mannequin isn't a legal target for the Professor while alive, and so can't redirect the Professor's pick. Which is good since a Professor somehow picking a living Outsider would doubly fizzle.
• Ravenkeeper: As seen with the Dreamer, I think there's something extra funny about interactions where being Mannequin'd causes the picker to be shown the Mannequin token.
• Snake Charmer: The Mannequin is not the Demon (usually), so it can be used to prevent a charming (good for the Snake Charmer, bad for the good team). But if the Snake Charmer later comes out with who's definitely not the Demon and which nights they picked them, the Mannequin can recognize that they replaced a pick.
• (There is a possible but convoluted interaction where the Mannequin gets handed Lil' Monsta, fails to get themself executed the next day, then gets indirectly Snake Charmed. The Snake Charmer picks the Sailor, then gets told they're the Mannequin holding the baby. The Mannequin becomes the poisoned Snake Charmer; they don't learn the Sailor's name. Then later that night the Minions wake to move the Lil' Monsta, having no idea anything happened.)
• Village Idiot: Like the Dreamer bullying and bird violence earlier, it's entirely possible to use the Mannequin to show a sober VI good every night. Or just that one time they pick the Demon.

Outsiders

• Barber: The Mannequin can intercept a Barber swap, swapping characters with one of the real choices. They don't learn who was really chosen. This should be done sparingly since it's an Outsider messing up an evil player's use of another Outsider ability.
• Drunk: The Drunk's choices can be affected by the Mannequin; this only matters in that the Mannequin still learns the real choice, which ensures that your choices lining up with a Mannequin doesn't indicate you're not the Drunk.
• Goon: If a player chooses the Goon, but the Mannequin redirects the choice to themself, the picker never chose the Goon. The Goon does not flip and the picker is not drunked (but gets info on / affects the Mannequin instead).
• Klutz, Moonchild: Neither of these can be affected, because the Mannequin ability only works on choices made at night.
• Lunatic: The Demon can see the Mannequin as the Lunatic's choice. As in the example above, this might be worthwhile if the Demon is following the Lunatic's choices and the Lunatic chose someone the Demon shouldn't kill for their own sake (such as themself, a Minion or a landmine Townsfolk). Since this can also be a reason to redirect a real Demon kill, the Lunatic learning that the player who died was the Mannequin, and maybe that their target was a landmine Townsfolk, might still believe they're the Demon afterwards.
• Ogre: This is yet another nice thing about the Mannequin learning who they replaced. If not for that, Ogre/Mannequin would need a jinx similar to Ogre/Recluse or Ogre/Spy, for the same reason: It's unfun for the Ogre if their alignment isn't solvable at all. But because the Mannequin knows they replaced the Donkey in someone's choice on night 1, they'll be looking for someone who picked the Donkey, and can inform the Ogre that they're good even if the Donkey is evil. (That said, stopping the Ogre from turning evil is again using an Outsider ability to interfere with an Outsider ability to evil's heavy detriment.)

Minions
Many Minion interactions are more likely to be relevant to an Alchemist than to the actual Minion, because this is an Outsider and should ideally be used to interfere with good more than evil. As such, I will treat the Minions below alignment-agnostically unless otherwise noted, with good ones probably being Alchemists.

• Assassin: The Assassin's "even if for some reason they could not" clause does not prevent the Mannequin from jumping in front of the knife and dying in the target's place. The Mannequin doesn't interfere with the Assassin's ability trying to kill, say, the Sailor; it interferes with the Assassin player's choice of which player the ability should try to kill in the first place. Now, if the Mannequin can't die for some reason, the Assassin ability can still kill them.
• Cerenovus: Poor Cerenovus, wondering why the claims they ordered are coming from the wrong part of town...
• Fearmonger: Oh, this one's rude.
• Harpy: The Harpy might be even more confused than the Cerenovus, since the Mannequin could replace either the player who's supposed to be mad or the player they're supposed to be mad about.
• Marionette: See Drunk. Also, a Marionette thinking they're the Mannequin might wreak havoc on town's info, getting names that imply their ability was used on players who actually got exactly the info they asked for.
• Pit Hag: This works just like you'd expect it to. It is worth noting that the Mannequin-turned-something-else doesn't learn who the Pit Hag really picked, because the character change resolves in the middle of the Mannequin's ability.
• Summoner: Yes, the Summoner choice can be redirected to turn the Mannequin into the Demon. No, you probably shouldn't do it to an evil Summoner unless you want a rerack. Either way, the Mannequin-turned-Demon doesn't learn the real choice.
• Widow: The Mannequin can soak up Widow poison and be unable to proc later. The main benefit to doing this would be that the Mannequin can be told their ability was used on choices that were never made, confusing the Mannequin and making them look evil, or on choices that gave correct information, misleading other players. But the Widow can also see that the Mannequin is in play and decide whether they want to do this themself, so it might be a little rude.

Demons
Demons in general (with a couple exceptions) can have their kills redirected to the Mannequin. This is mostly useful if they were about to kill a landmine character.

• Al-Hadikhia: I imagine even with the carrot, most Mannequins would be okay with dying to prevent an Al-Had sweep. Unusual case of the Demon learning immediately that one of their choices was redirected to the Mannequin. If the Mannequin chooses to live and there isn't a sweep, the Mannequin learns who the Al-Had really picked.
• Fang Gu: Out of all Demons, the ability for the Demon kill to be redirected to the Mannequin is probably the most useful to the Fang Gu, which jumps if it hasn't already. The Mannequin ability becomes a safety hatch for the ST to drop the Demon through if necessary. The dead Fang Gu might want to be careful about outing to the player they targeted, though.
• Kazali: "You'll have the Mannequin player as your Minion and you'll damn well like it!" Better than letting the Kazali pick the Soldier, but otherwise probably best avoided.
• Lleech: Yes but don't: The Mannequin can become the Lleech host instead of whoever the Lleech chose. If it weren't bad enough for the Demon to not know the host is the wrong player, there's also the fact that Mannequins are likely to be okay with dying early.
• Pukka: The Mannequin being poisoned after a choice is redirected to them doesn't mean they weren't chosen.
• Vortox: Since the Mannequin is an Outsider, the information on who they replaced is not affected by the Vortox.
• Legion, Lil' Monsta, Yaggababble: Can't have their kills redirected because they don't make picks, but can kill the Mannequin at the ST's whim anyway because it's how they work in the first place.
• Leviathan, Riot: Can't have their kills redirected because they don't kill at night at all.
• Ojo: Can't have their kill redirected because they choose a character, not a player. There is an argument to be made that they choose a player via a character, like how the Courtier and Ojo can become Goon-drunk, but that's not how the Mannequin functions. The Mannequin replaces choices before they're filtered through the ability they're made for.

Travelers
Most Travelers can't be affected by the Mannequin because they either don't make picks or pick in the daytime.

• Barista: If the Mannequin gets a Barista 2, it might be time to call for exile.
• Bone Collector: The Bone Collector runs into the same issue as the Professor: The Mannequin is an illegal target for the Bone Collector while they have their ability, unless they've already been Bone Collected. A Bone Collected Mannequin can in fact redirect a Professor's ability, though they're not resurrected because they're not a Townsfolk.
• Bureaucrat: I think the paperwork that says this Mannequin should have three votes might be forged.
• Harlot: "Choose a player." "James." "Alright, one moment... ... ...Kate has accepted your invitation; you learn that she is the Mannequin."
• Thief: "If you have to steal people's votes, take mine instead."

Chapter 1
“Huff, huff”
Zhong Lin inhaled the heavy gray mist surrounding him, sizzling his already sore lungs. The rancid, musty air did little to soften his scowl aimed at the colossal slab of gravestone. The waning blue moon above casted eerie shadows on the ground, seemingly mocking his desperation.
A reckless punch born out of rage landed on the hard granite. But the carvings of incomprehensible beings responded with little other than broken nerves and muscles.
“HAHAHAHHAHA”
With a loud laugh of self-derision, he roughly fell on the cold, cobbled floor. The chest injury he had forgotten about flared up with the fall. He stared at the blood that flowed from his chest, akin to a river slithering down a mountain, dyeing the floor crimson.
He moved his right hand towards his chest, holding down on the wound. Physical pain was still more bearable than the heart. He had been long used to the pain. Both of heart and body.
“All that for nothing.”
A dispirited mutter left his parched lips as blood and sweat melded together. Divine sense showed his nascent soul in a similar state to his body. As the Qi and Blood competed to leave him, a strong dizziness assaulted his senses, spinning even the azure moon above.
He pulled out a jar with only one red pill left inside.
*Crunch*
Brisk chewing gave life to the hollow, misty temple of death as he gnawed on his final pill. He knew it was futile. When the slab showed no response, he already had a hunch that all his efforts were for naught. Yet, if living a mere moment would increase his non-existent odds, he would seize that moment with everything. He lost too much to stop here.
“You were wrong, father. Trying is never enough.”
Reminiscing about his lives, he couldn’t help but wonder how everything had gone so awry. When he transmigrated to this world, he thought he could redo everything.
A second, no, his first, proper chance at life.
And he had to admit, he had gotten lucky. A loving family. A shed above his head. A heart full of warmth. Brought by the simple act of his mother brushing his hair. By stern reprimands of his father as his sister laughed from behind. But that gave away to the question, had he been a bit too lucky?
“I am sorry, Rin. Your big brother is a coward.”
They say that your life flashes past your eyes before you meet your end. He could not confirm it in his last life, perhaps because he did not have a life worth remembering, but now he could see it clearly.
A scene that frequented him in his nightmares.
It was midnight when the mournful shrieks broke him out of dreams. He sat up to muffled screams, fizzling out, one after another. Even the unending darkness of night was eclipsed by an emerald hue, bleeding into his room from the small crevices of the windows.
From an interstice he watched the man in black robe. With a glowing blade, the dark figure painted the snow in crimson. He saw his father among them, kneeling. A warning in his eyes met his own. And he raced like hell itself chased him, away from the nauseating scent of blood.
And quickly hid inside the house, going away from his room. As fear grasped his soul, the realization hit, his sister was still sleeping, unaware of the carnage outside. Before he could reach out, a footstep froze him, burning him with a primal fear. Only a small, sleepy “Big brother?” reached him, before his heartbeats taking over once again.
But fear whispered at him, to not breathe, to not move, to not go. And he caved in to it, paralyzed, until the screams stopped and the morning sun shone. Only then did he go out, finding her there, lying peacefully.
Only, a bit of perplexity in her azure eyes, which had long lost all semblance of life. Her eyes would continue to stare at him, every night.
Like they did right now as his vision blurred.
“I am sorry, Rin. It should have been me.”
He croaked. There is no pill for regret. Like a gut punch it hit. Often, he wondered why he had been left alive. Before, he thought it was due to him hiding well, but only later did he know that he was spared. After all, there was nowhere to hide from a divine sense.
Sound sleep became a thing of luxury from then on as nightmares took over. Thus, a ten-year-old made revenge his life goal.
But it did not take him long to realize that smarts could not overpower those with the strength to break mountains. Hence, he ran after power, meticulously scheming. Ten years a valet of nobles. Hundreds a slave to immortals. Thousands of years of cultivation. Only to find an answer to one question.
Why was he spared on the night of snowfall?
But efforts matter less where talent is venerated. What took him years took the man of his nightmares a day to accomplish. And by the time Zhong Lin reached nascent soul, his figure of vengeance had long surpassed him by an impossible margin. And he despaired, for as long as he remembered.
Until Requiem landed on his hand, that is. A book of a God long forgotten. A different path to power, beyond what immortals could ever hope to accomplish. And he did whatever the book told him. For that was his only hope.
He found the missing pieces, assembled them, piece by piece. Hiding, running, stealing, slaughtering. Funnily enough. all his efforts only led to him creating his own burial. Perhaps it was karma. Slowly, He felt impending death crawling on his skin as the smell of blood got thicker and thicker.
Faintly, a sound of footsteps could be heard from afar. The firm noise of boots steadily made its way, like death. Inevitable.
Zhong mustered all his remaining strength to stand up, amplifying the dizziness. He had a faint idea of what approached him.
He who led him to the pit of hell.
A black silhouette wearing a gray overcoat slowly emerged from the haze of mist, holding a yellow lantern in his hand. Yet, all the light avoided his visage, scattering before reaching the inky blackness.
“To be honest, I never imagined that you would actually manage to find it yourself.” Zhong Lin’s face crumbled as he listened to the deep, gruff voice mocking him, but he had little to return to the derision reaching his ears. “I must thank you for saving me the trouble.”
Zhong Lin numbly gazed at the figure that went beyond his understanding. A being made of the vast cosmos. Hands made of stars, a face that resembled eternal darkness.
“Sorry. Kid. There was never any inheritance.” Zhong Lin listened to the voice that sounded like a death sentence. In his journey, he had considered many times a question, What if he does not get the inheritance? But he never considered that there was no inheritance to begin with. But all the despair only left as the haze cleared, and a profound numbness filled all that was hollow in his heart.
“Kid” A soft voice reached the ears of the listless Zhong Lin. He watched the inky black around the cosmic figure leave as he brought the lantern up. But more than that familiar voice and face, what brought him more despair is the one single line. “Do you remember the night of snowfall?”
No. It could not have been that early!
His face scrunched up, forming an expression of madness again, his knuckles cracking as they turned white. “Old hermit.” He whispered. He finally connected all the dots. It was not just after he got Requiem. For his entire life, he was but a simple pawn. Chess piece right from the very start of his journey. A mantis unaware of the oriole behind.
No wonder. The only reason why he managed to survive the impossible odds so far was because a higher being was aiding him. He attributed the random burst of luck and lucky encounters to destiny, thinking the world itself wanted him to succeed. How foolish of him when fate has done nothing but mock him.
He stared at the peaceful face of an old hermit; someone he had known for ages. His benefactor, a lifesaver many times,. “Kid, don’t misunderstand. It was never personal.”
“Why?” A quivering voice escaped Zhong Lin’s lips as all of his expression left his face, leaving numbness occupying it once again.
“Why was I spared?” He stared at the being that seemed eternal by now once again, with a black face, hands like the cosmos holding onto a lantern.
Old hermit laughed at the question. “Would you believe me if I said everything was merely a coincidence?”
Zhong Lin watched the burning golden eyes on his eternal black visage peek at his soul. Unfeeling, cold, relishing in his nightmare, refusing to fulfill even his final wish.
And he decided, right there.
The runic seals around his soul unchained as he quickly compressed the Qi on the bead, something he had been keeping inside his soul for a long while. The thunder and fire souls mixed together, creating a mad frenzy of Qi inside him. Soon, all seven souls were burning madly, before destroying themselves within seconds, like an avalanche of Qi.
*BOOOOOOMMMMMM*
The nascent soul destruction created a feint as he propelled the bead forward, to the middle of the gravestone, to the piece he had forged himself. He watched with his dimming divine sense as the bead slowly made its way with a bit of hope, to destroy one of the stones, to stop whatever his plan was.
But right before the bead could reach it. Hermit waved his hand, stopping all the chaotic movement of Qi and soul. Zhong Lin’s final bit of hope died out as he reached his eternal end.
“Almost succeeded. But you were too desperate.” The hermit laughed as he watched the desperate Zhong Lin’s final attempt. Walking towards the frozen bead, he stared at the brewing Qi that would have certainly taken down the entire temple if it hit. .
“And even if you damaged it, it would have only brought me a mild inconvenience.” He ran his fingers on the gravestone, muttering softly. A laughter of elation resounded in the empty hall as he brought out a key from his overcoat. As soon as the key reached the stone, a small hole opened up, like it was made for it. With a clink, the rectangular slab of granite transformed, into a small, unassuming olden black book.
A single ancient word was written on the black cover.
Requiem
“Right? Requiem.”
He stared at the bloody mess caused by the splattered organs and blood on the stone walls. Although he protected himself and Requiem, he shared not that feeling about the old temple of death. He gazed at the detonated Qi that intermixed with the soul energy, all seven souls had been unchained and intermixed.
“Did not even leave yourself a path out for reincarnation. But, kid, you may have chosen well.”
A sigh escaped his lips as he walked off into the dark maws of the door. As he left the temple, it broke down, piece by piece. The large pillars slowly slid underground like it were submerging in water, along with the rest of the temple, disappearing like it never existed, taking with it Zhong Lin's remains. From now on, the old temple of death will have never existed, alongside Zhong Lin.
Or that’s what was supposed to happen.
But an anomalous corruption in time and space was brewing,

I’m 26F, husband is 28M, I’ve been married for two years. I had an arranged marriage, I sponsored him to Canada and lived with him for one year, but from day one it wasn’t going well nor did I feel comfortable, from the beginning till this past Ramadan, he wouldn’t shower on time, brush teeth, would be extremely lazy in offering prayers or spending time with me even intimately he would say his lazy and only approach me couple times a month in which I wasn’t satisfied either and had communicated multiple times for him to be with me more, and he would misuse hadiths and Quran verses to manipulate me. So I do as he says, he would also tell me I’m stupid, can’t and am not allowed to make my own decisions, I’m mentally unstable and need help. This Ramadan I got tired of it all and left him and told my family about it but my family said these are small matters, cheating, gambling, substance abuse, etc are big issues and why you should leave your marriage. And I spoke to a sheikh too. After this I still went back to him because of my parents and my husband said he’ll change and be better, after being severely sick and bedridden for two days he realized all his mistakes he told me. I’m in volunteering and dawah work. But after the sheikh we spoke to had mentioned that I have to obey my husband even if he says to leave my dawah as family takes priority and wife has to obey husband He started abusing this obedience part after we reconciled, told me I’m not to go volunteer anywhere, not see friends because his my best friend, not to do dawah work, even leave my job because he doesn’t need my money, I can do anything I want virtually but he wants me to stay home and cook fresh meals everyday and clean, even though he said his going to continue his low paying job and do it 15 hours a day from morning to night. Before this I was paying bills whole year, even cooking and cleaning myself, but now he had even started taunting me about him providing for me, because he needs to provide for me he can’t make anything out of his life, travel, or see his parents back home nor when they die, he can’t go see them then either. Even though I told him this is his choice, and already I was praying bills and will still help, but he said he’ll cover all my expenses and I need to be a good girl and listen and obey to him, after that 3 multiple times calmly lovingly I asked him I want to be able to help people and my main purpose in life is living for Allahs sake and doing dawah, But he said every time it’s his final decision, and I have to obey him. Then I decided to leave as I couldn’t live like a servant or bird in a cage like that, but when I was leaving he started saying I just have to convince him, as his all mine,how I don’t care about my old aging parents and am acting selfish when I’m not allowed to make any decisions nor am I allowed in Islam to divorce him, in the end when I still wasn’t giving in because of the pain and hurt he gave me, he then again at the end said I’m not mentally well and am unstable and need mental help. Which broke my heart into pieces and I had a panic attack, as I couldn’t breath nor stay another second with this man Before this i was fasting for the month of shawwal, my Eid was ruined because of my husband and my abusive family, so I was all alone, since I was volunteering to host a sisters Eid party, I had left my fast for that day so I don’t get tired and I can enjoy the party, but with this instance my husband was saying why I left my fast for volunteering but I didn’t leave it for him. I asked him multiple times what he means, but he said same thing every time that I didn’t leave my fast for him, but he works all day and night so even if I left it because maybe he wanted to spend time with me or go out but there was no reason for it. Which again was disturbing for me as he doesn’t seem to take deen seriously and expects me to always be serving him or something. Even telling me how his my dunya’s god after Allah and Allah has commanded if the wife had to prostrate towards anyone after Allah it would be your husband.
Now his lying to everyone that he only asked me to give him my weekends and I can do or go wherever I wanted during the week, I’m stonehearted i dont care about my old aged white haired parents by acting like this, and how even the sheikh said i have no reasoning for divorce and is baseless, which I wasn’t told by that sheikh plus I don’t believe this guy because of other manipulative lies And my family is pushing me to go back too as they keep saying it’s a worse world out there which I haven’t seen as there’s worse in laws and husbands who brutally physically abuse the wife. But I just want peace, respect, and honour, in a marriage even if there’s no love or intimacy But now there’s no trust either as his lying about what happened and why I left. He came again to me to forgive and give him another chance but I already have forgiven him many times but don’t want more hurt or pain and that’s why don’t want to go back. I spoke to the sheikh again, who said we have a lot of miscommunication this is his honest advice which would be we do individual and couples therapy, as he thinks we just have a lot of miscommunication He approved 2 divorces this past year, one was the husband selling his wife, and another was the husband physically abusing wife, cheating and doing zina So he thinks every couple fights and they say things which are wrong but they work through them, because we have different cultures there’s different ideas and we aren’t communicating them properly, even though I did clearly tell him we did communicate, now his lying and I can’t trust him, nor do I like him, but sheikh offered my family, me and my husband can talk and have a discussion to make things work, as according to him this can be worked out as I don’t have a proper reason for divorce. When I told him I don’t want to live with my husband bc of the way he makes me feel He told me to go to another senior shiekh As divorce leaves a big scar and it’s not easy to divorce and remarry I did have one session with a Maulana too who’s also a psychotherapist, with my husband, who told us we don’t sound compatible n our stories are different, one is the truth, it’s up to us to decide who’s speaking truth But every culture has same peace, respect and love, when I don’t have any peace and keep getting hurt and anxiety from my husband’s behaviour. Why do I keep suffering.
I’m thinking what if no sheikh approves of my divorce and think I don’t have a valid reason What do I do then? How is that even fair to my husband when I’m not happy and don’t want to stay in this marriage

Intro: Man, what a day. Well, it’s all over now. Time to just relax on the couch and unwind… Wait, why is the doorbell ringing? Who could that be? And are you getting… deja vu?
Summary: Listener allows Speaker inside and they spend a little time together before Speaker reveals that she is a vampire, as well as a few other things. She then drinks some of Listener’s blood and leaves.
Go ahead and monetize, it's fine. Word count is about 1600.
If you fill this or plan to fill this, please notify me. Please don't make edits without asking first.
Line breaks represent the listener talking or space where no one talks and should be short pauses, words within {brackets} represent the speaker’s tone or sfx. At ellipses, the speaker trails off, and at dashes, she is either cut off abruptly by the listener or by herself.
Author’s Note: All right, the last Feather script, I’m finally caught up. Sorry this took so long to get out, I promise I didn’t want it to be this late, but hey! It’s here now, and I hope y’all enjoy.
If you want to read this somewhere other than Reddit, it's also here.
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{doorbell sfx}
{door opens sfx} {stressed} Hi. Hello there. Good day. Well, good evening, I guess. Or good night, the sun’s already down. How are you doing today?
No wait please don’t close the door- I promise I’m not trying to sell you something! Look, it’s me. It’s {insert name here}. Your neighbor. You recognize me, right? We met at that Fourth of July party last year?
Yeah, yeah, I know, been a while. My job basically forces me to be nocturnal, otherwise I promise I’d be less non-existent. I’m not completely anti-social, I just… sleep while everyone else is doing things.
{apologetic} I- yeah, okay, so. Ohh, this is gonna sound terrible. This is gonna sound bad.
…Can I stay the night here? Look, normally I’d never ask this, because we don’t even know each other, obviously, but I accidentally locked myself out of my house, and I don’t know anyone else on the street either, and, well, I remembered you being friendly that time that we did meet, and it’s really cold out and I don’t want to try to sleep in my car, and-
{hopeful} You… you will?
{relieved} Oh, thank you. I’ll come up with a way to pay you back, I promise.
{hesitant} You’re sure I can come in? I mean, you still don’t really know me, and you’re inviting me into your house. You’re okay with that?
{relieved} Thank you. I promise, I don’t need much. I already ate, and I can just sleep on the couch. I don’t want to cause you any bother.
{happy} Oh, wow, it’s warm in here. I never expect it to be this warm. Uh, when I go over to other people’s places. My house and the building I work at are always freezing, so this is nice. Feels like a place I can just relax, y’know?
Wha- huh? {dismissive} No, no, it’s fine. I’ll call a locksmith in the morning, and hell, worst comes to worst, I’ll break a window. I just needed someplace where I wouldn’t freeze to death while I waited. Which, thank you again for providing.
{serious} I mean, yeah. You saw the weather report, right? Not the nicest out tonight. I don’t think I would’ve gotten frostbite, but it wouldn’t have been fun to find out.
{confused} My hands? Why…?
Oh, they can’t be that cold, right?
{hesitant} Uh… not very long? Maybe only an hour? Because first I was trying to get inside, and then I was working up the courage to knock because I didn’t want to bother you, and-
{placating} What- oh, no, come on, you don’t have to do that. I promise, I’m fine just being in here, I already feel much better-
{taken aback} That’s a very large blanket.
Okay, two of them feels excessive, I-
All right, fine. Many blankets are fine.
No, no, I said I already ate, I’m not hungry, I- {interested} did you say hot chocolate? Well. Maybe I could have a little.
Wow, that was fast. Did you already have the water boiling?
Mmm! This is delicious, what brand is it?
I should’ve guessed. Homemade is always better, especially when it’s made in a home as nice as this.
Well, if you really want me to eat something, do you maybe still have any of that peach cobbler? That was- what?
{scrambling} Oh, I mean- well, uh, I- {sigh} {sad} Damn. Guess I got a little too comfy there, didn’t I? And I was really looking forward to the movie you were going to suggest…
{reasonable} All right, no, calm down, I promise I can explain, just- {disappointed} ugh. This isn’t going to work.
{magically resonant} Still.
{fond} That’s better. No freaking out tonight, okay?
Here, come on, let’s sit you down. Put those blankets on you. Does that feel nice? I know you can’t answer, but I’m going to assume that feels nice.
{sigh} What am I going to do with you?
I really am sorry about this, I promise it’s not how I wanted the night to go. It’s just hard to stay on my guard about things like that when I’m here. This place relaxes me, you feel more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived has. My tongue tends to slip. I’m sure you understand.
Ah, I should explain. I suppose I don’t have to, you won’t remember anyway, but you do deserve to know what’s happening. I come over here… rather a lot. I always use some variant of the “poor, lost innocent” act, and it works every time. You let me in, and you start trying to take care of me, and you’re always so protective and sweet… it’s nice. The first few times, I was annoyed. I thought your kindness was just weakness, or worse, that you were only being kind because you wanted something. I didn’t even realize how hypocritical I was being, can you believe that? But it’s true. It took more weeks than I’d like to admit to realize how good it felt, having you want to take care of me. Once I did, I started coming by more often, staying longer, trying to get to know you better in the time that we had. I started looking forward to getting to take a load off with you more and more, too. It’s gotten to the point where staying with you is the brightest spot in my week. This house has become my little home-away-from-home, my sanctuary from all my problems. And you’re what makes it that, so thank you.
Oy, all of that, and you’re probably more confused than when I started. I suppose I’ve danced around the relevant point. {hesitant} I- uh. Well, I’m- Well, there’s no easy way to say it. I’m a vampire, and at the end of every night, I feed on you and remove your memories of me.
{reassuring} No, no, keep calm. I can feel your heart rate increasing, there’s no need for it to. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. I haven’t hurt you any time before, and I don’t plan to start now. I would never.
I’m only here for a tiny bit of blood, just a taste, really. You won’t even notice the loss. Well, okay, you might notice it a little. You’ll probably feel kind of weak in the morning, but the marks will have faded away completely, and the bite won’t even hurt. We’ve done this dozens of times by now, and I promise, the worst you’ve felt is a little woozy.
I think it’ll even feel good. You’ve definitely seemed happy with the feeling before.
{sad, tired} Oh, don’t look at me like that! You think I want it to be like this? I hate having to pretend not to know you, not to love…
I hate it, almost as much as I hate the lack of recognition in your eyes when you see me. I want you to know me. To light up when you see me. But this is the way it has to be.
{yearning} I’ve thought about coming to you under other pretenses… introducing myself, maybe starting a real relationship. I could take care of you after every feeding instead of abandoning you, like I want to so badly. I could spend more time in your refuge from the chaos of the world, and give you someone to share it with. I think we’d both be happy… but it’s not that simple, is it? Every day takes us farther from our first meeting, makes it harder to introduce myself, and every memory we make makes me more likely to out myself, as we saw earlier. Besides, I’ve gotten used to this. I like being able to treat you as a safe place, without having to put any burdens on you. And God knows, dating a vampire - hell, just being friends with one - comes with burdens… You deserve better than that. I still want to be a part of your life, one day, and to have you be a part of mine, but it can’t happen today. I can’t do that to you today.
{resolve} All I can do is enjoy the time I can steal with you, and watch over you from afar. Stop anyone else from destroying this little sanctuary of ours. Keep you safe from… interlopers. But there’s no need to discuss them. Not now.
{disappointed sigh} I really was looking forward to spending time with you tonight. Maybe you would’ve even finally asked me to cuddle… A shame it has to be cut short.
{amused} Well, not such a shame. Titans, you smell good. Reminds me of why I wanted your blood in the first place, it might be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Another reason I like coming here so much, probably.
{placating} All right, now just hold still… I mean, I know you can’t do much else, but please try to relax. This will only hurt for a moment.
{vampire feeding} {You can make this sound realistic, with slurping and the occasional moan, or you can just make it sound like someone drinking from a Caprisun. One of the above will be funnier.}
{satisfied} Ahh, that was wonderful. Do you think you’re feeling all right, after that? I- {sad} oh. You can’t answer, can you? I could - I really should - unfreeze you. Listen to what you have to say about… all of this. Maybe you’d be okay with it? Maybe you’d even… accept me? But no. What if you told me to leave and never come back? I don’t think I’m brave enough for that. I can’t lose this… I can’t lose you, even if watching you forget me is almost the same.
I am sorry about this. I say that every time, and it never stops being true. I don’t want to do this to you. But it’s the way it has to be. {sigh} {quiet} Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it’ll start feeling true…
{magically resonant} Forget.
Sleep.
{tender} Good night, love. I’ll see you again soon.

Intro: Man, what a day. Well, it’s all over now. Time to just relax on the couch and unwind… Wait, why is the doorbell ringing? Who could that be? And are you getting… deja vu?
Summary: Listener allows Speaker inside and they spend a little time together before Speaker reveals that she is a vampire, as well as a few other things. She then drinks some of Listener’s blood and leaves.
Go ahead and monetize, it's fine. Word count is about 1600.
If you fill this or plan to fill this, please notify me. Please don't make edits without asking first.
Line breaks represent the listener talking or space where no one talks and should be short pauses, words within {brackets} represent the speaker’s tone or sfx. At ellipses, the speaker trails off, and at dashes, she is either cut off abruptly by the listener or by herself.
Author’s Note: All right, the last Feather script, I’m finally caught up. Sorry this took so long to get out, I promise I didn’t want it to be this late, but hey! It’s here now, and I hope y’all enjoy.
If you want to read this somewhere other than Reddit, it's also here.
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{doorbell sfx}
{door opens sfx} {stressed} Hi. Hello there. Good day. Well, good evening, I guess. Or good night, the sun’s already down. How are you doing today?
No wait please don’t close the door- I promise I’m not trying to sell you something! Look, it’s me. It’s {insert name here}. Your neighbor. You recognize me, right? We met at that Fourth of July party last year?
Yeah, yeah, I know, been a while. My job basically forces me to be nocturnal, otherwise I promise I’d be less non-existent. I’m not completely anti-social, I just… sleep while everyone else is doing things.
{apologetic} I- yeah, okay, so. Ohh, this is gonna sound terrible. This is gonna sound bad.
…Can I stay the night here? Look, normally I’d never ask this, because we don’t even know each other, obviously, but I accidentally locked myself out of my house, and I don’t know anyone else on the street either, and, well, I remembered you being friendly that time that we did meet, and it’s really cold out and I don’t want to try to sleep in my car, and-
{hopeful} You… you will?
{relieved} Oh, thank you. I’ll come up with a way to pay you back, I promise.
{hesitant} You’re sure I can come in? I mean, you still don’t really know me, and you’re inviting me into your house. You’re okay with that?
{relieved} Thank you. I promise, I don’t need much. I already ate, and I can just sleep on the couch. I don’t want to cause you any bother.
{happy} Oh, wow, it’s warm in here. I never expect it to be this warm. Uh, when I go over to other people’s places. My house and the building I work at are always freezing, so this is nice. Feels like a place I can just relax, y’know?
Wha- huh? {dismissive} No, no, it’s fine. I’ll call a locksmith in the morning, and hell, worst comes to worst, I’ll break a window. I just needed someplace where I wouldn’t freeze to death while I waited. Which, thank you again for providing.
{serious} I mean, yeah. You saw the weather report, right? Not the nicest out tonight. I don’t think I would’ve gotten frostbite, but it wouldn’t have been fun to find out.
{confused} My hands? Why…?
Oh, they can’t be that cold, right?
{hesitant} Uh… not very long? Maybe only an hour? Because first I was trying to get inside, and then I was working up the courage to knock because I didn’t want to bother you, and-
{placating} What- oh, no, come on, you don’t have to do that. I promise, I’m fine just being in here, I already feel much better-
{taken aback} That’s a very large blanket.
Okay, two of them feels excessive, I-
All right, fine. Many blankets are fine.
No, no, I said I already ate, I’m not hungry, I- {interested} did you say hot chocolate? Well. Maybe I could have a little.
Wow, that was fast. Did you already have the water boiling?
Mmm! This is delicious, what brand is it?
I should’ve guessed. Homemade is always better, especially when it’s made in a home as nice as this.
Well, if you really want me to eat something, do you maybe still have any of that peach cobbler? That was- what?
{scrambling} Oh, I mean- well, uh, I- {sigh} {sad} Damn. Guess I got a little too comfy there, didn’t I? And I was really looking forward to the movie you were going to suggest…
{reasonable} All right, no, calm down, I promise I can explain, just- {disappointed} ugh. This isn’t going to work.
{magically resonant} Still.
{fond} That’s better. No freaking out tonight, okay?
Here, come on, let’s sit you down. Put those blankets on you. Does that feel nice? I know you can’t answer, but I’m going to assume that feels nice.
{sigh} What am I going to do with you?
I really am sorry about this, I promise it’s not how I wanted the night to go. It’s just hard to stay on my guard about things like that when I’m here. This place relaxes me, you feel more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived has. My tongue tends to slip. I’m sure you understand.
Ah, I should explain. I suppose I don’t have to, you won’t remember anyway, but you do deserve to know what’s happening. I come over here… rather a lot. I always use some variant of the “poor, lost innocent” act, and it works every time. You let me in, and you start trying to take care of me, and you’re always so protective and sweet… it’s nice. The first few times, I was annoyed. I thought your kindness was just weakness, or worse, that you were only being kind because you wanted something. I didn’t even realize how hypocritical I was being, can you believe that? But it’s true. It took more weeks than I’d like to admit to realize how good it felt, having you want to take care of me. Once I did, I started coming by more often, staying longer, trying to get to know you better in the time that we had. I started looking forward to getting to take a load off with you more and more, too. It’s gotten to the point where staying with you is the brightest spot in my week. This house has become my little home-away-from-home, my sanctuary from all my problems. And you’re what makes it that, so thank you.
Oy, all of that, and you’re probably more confused than when I started. I suppose I’ve danced around the relevant point. {hesitant} I- uh. Well, I’m- Well, there’s no easy way to say it. I’m a vampire, and at the end of every night, I feed on you and remove your memories of me.
{reassuring} No, no, keep calm. I can feel your heart rate increasing, there’s no need for it to. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. I haven’t hurt you any time before, and I don’t plan to start now. I would never.
I’m only here for a tiny bit of blood, just a taste, really. You won’t even notice the loss. Well, okay, you might notice it a little. You’ll probably feel kind of weak in the morning, but the marks will have faded away completely, and the bite won’t even hurt. We’ve done this dozens of times by now, and I promise, the worst you’ve felt is a little woozy.
I think it’ll even feel good. You’ve definitely seemed happy with the feeling before.
{sad, tired} Oh, don’t look at me like that! You think I want it to be like this? I hate having to pretend not to know you, not to love…
I hate it, almost as much as I hate the lack of recognition in your eyes when you see me. I want you to know me. To light up when you see me. But this is the way it has to be.
{yearning} I’ve thought about coming to you under other pretenses… introducing myself, maybe starting a real relationship. I could take care of you after every feeding instead of abandoning you, like I want to so badly. I could spend more time in your refuge from the chaos of the world, and give you someone to share it with. I think we’d both be happy… but it’s not that simple, is it? Every day takes us farther from our first meeting, makes it harder to introduce myself, and every memory we make makes me more likely to out myself, as we saw earlier. Besides, I’ve gotten used to this. I like being able to treat you as a safe place, without having to put any burdens on you. And God knows, dating a vampire - hell, just being friends with one - comes with burdens… You deserve better than that. I still want to be a part of your life, one day, and to have you be a part of mine, but it can’t happen today. I can’t do that to you today.
{resolve} All I can do is enjoy the time I can steal with you, and watch over you from afar. Stop anyone else from destroying this little sanctuary of ours. Keep you safe from… interlopers. But there’s no need to discuss them. Not now.
{disappointed sigh} I really was looking forward to spending time with you tonight. Maybe you would’ve even finally asked me to cuddle… A shame it has to be cut short.
{amused} Well, not such a shame. Titans, you smell good. Reminds me of why I wanted your blood in the first place, it might be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Another reason I like coming here so much, probably.
{placating} All right, now just hold still… I mean, I know you can’t do much else, but please try to relax. This will only hurt for a moment.
{vampire feeding} {You can make this sound realistic, with slurping and the occasional moan, or you can just make it sound like someone drinking from a Caprisun. One of the above will be funnier.}
{satisfied} Ahh, that was wonderful. Do you think you’re feeling all right, after that? I- {sad} oh. You can’t answer, can you? I could - I really should - unfreeze you. Listen to what you have to say about… all of this. Maybe you’d be okay with it? Maybe you’d even… accept me? But no. What if you told me to leave and never come back? I don’t think I’m brave enough for that. I can’t lose this… I can’t lose you, even if watching you forget me is almost the same.
I am sorry about this. I say that every time, and it never stops being true. I don’t want to do this to you. But it’s the way it has to be. {sigh} {quiet} Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it’ll start feeling true…
{magically resonant} Forget.
Sleep.
{tender} Good night, love. I’ll see you again soon.

Intro: While running through the forest one full moon night, you smelled a particularly delicious-seeming dead rabbit. Never one to waste a good meal, you go for it, but as you’re beginning to chow down, you feel something sharp closing over your leg. It hurts. You don’t know how you’re going to get out of this, but you do know one thing: You’re going to take a piece out of whoever did this to you.
Summary: Speaker finds Listener trapped in the woods, so she finds a way to patch him up.
Go ahead and monetize, it's fine. Word count is about 1700.
If you fill this or plan to fill this, please notify me. Please don't make edits without asking first.
Line breaks represent the listener talking or space where no one talks and should be short pauses, words within {brackets} represent the speaker’s tone or sfx. At ellipses, the speaker trails off, and at dashes, she is either cut off abruptly by the listener or by herself.
Author’s Note: Y’know, I don’t think this is what I envisioned originally, there was going to be a lot more of the “get you to calm down, heal your injuries, make the pain go away” stuff, but I think I like it nonetheless. It certainly feels more realistic now, with the lack of getting in range of a wild animal’s teeth. And who knows? Maybe it has more series potential the way it is. We might even find out, one day.
If you want to read this somewhere other than Reddit, it's also here.
​
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{preoccupied} All right, what’s on the docket for today? Check the rabbit traps, see if I got anything edible, that’s a good start. After that, maybe I can head down to the creek, try to catch some fish. Even if I don’t get any bites, it’ll still be nice to- whoa.
{a little awed} Well, damn. That’s a beautiful sunrise. Been a long time since I’ve seen one like that. Hell, for someone who lives in nature, I don’t spend enough time appreciating it.
{sigh} Yup, lovely. {back to business} All right, that’ll be enough appreciating for now. Time and tide, after all, and scavengers are even less polite than they are.
All right, where did I leave the first one, again? Past the fallen tree, yes, leave the track at the rock that looks like a bear-
{scared gasp} {quieter} Okay. That’s a wolf. That’s a wolf. He sees me, yup, looking right at me. That’s bad. Okay, okay, survival lessons, what do I do… He probably doesn’t want a fight. Make myself larger, make noise.
{loudly} Hey! Hey, you, wolf! Get outta here! Come on, I know you don’t want to be around a human, shoo! Leave!
{to self} {worried} Why isn’t it- Okay, that’s not ideal. He’s not moving, he’s growling at me, I should- what should I do? This seems strange. If it was going to jump me, wouldn’t it have by now?
{trying not to panic} Oh, fuck, what do I do? If I move towards him, will he take it as aggression and attack? But, if I walk away, he could think of me as prey and attack anyway. I suppose it’s a wild animal, there’s no telling what it could actually do, is there? But… wait, does he look… why’s he looking at me like that? He almost seems… scared.
{forced calm} All right, use your brain, {insert name here}. There is a wolf, here, in the place where you set a rabbit trap. Why? Probably because it wants to eat the rabbit, and you’re interrupting a hungry predator. But no, that doesn’t fit so well, he’d be doing… something other than this, I think, if I actually was getting between him and food. Maybe he already finished it, and he’s just chilling? I suppose that’s possible… But then he would’ve left already, right? So there’s probably something keeping him here. Like what? No chance it’s cubs, I’d be dead already. Same with an injured packmate, probably same with a stash of food. So why…
The trap? No, that wouldn’t even make sense. It’s tiny. It’d kill a rabbit, for sure, but a wolf probably couldn’t even get his paw through the little loop, much less get caught by it. But maybe…
Hey, hey, stay calm, buddy. I’m not threatening you, I’m not even gonna get in your blind spot, just want to walk over to the side… Yup, that’s it, you can keep your eyes right on me, see? I’m not a threat. Just want to look at- {gasp}
{shocked} What? Where did- How!
{forced calm} Okay, okay, the how isn’t that important. The wolf has his leg caught in a trap. Bloody hell, that looks nasty. That explains the immobility, and the growling. Poor guy is probably scared out of his mind right now, with that thing through his leg. {upset} I can’t believe you can still even get your hands on spike traps like that! I mean, come on, isn’t that inhumane?
{forced calm} Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. How do I help him? I could… call the forestry service? But cell service is so horrible out here… I could drive into town and call them? Oh, but what if they said they can’t help? Or what if they’re too late, and he’s already chewed his paw off by the time they get here? Wait, do wolves do that? I think I read somewhere that they do that. I shouldn’t let him do that. Okay, can’t get anyone else to come help, I could try to get the trap off it myself? That’s… that’s a really not-good idea, isn’t it? Yeah, he’s a wild animal. Probably doesn’t like humans so much in the first place, and now he’s scared and in pain… He’d probably maim me before I even had the chance to help, no dice. But I have to do something…
{upset} Ugh! Come on, {insert name here}, think! There has to be something you can do. Something you can… {gasp}
{excited} That’ll work! Okay, wait- right there, Mr. Wolf, stay- do not chew your paw off while I’m gone, I promise I’m going to make the pain stop.
{running footsteps sfx} {fading away} {chuckle} Heh, I’m talking to the wolf like he understands me. Ridiculous. Oh, but I hope he gets the message…
{some indicator of a time skip}
{running footsteps} {out of breath} I’m back! I’m… back. I made it. You’re still here, right? Oh, oh good. Please tell me you didn’t injure your paw any further.
{confused} Wait… you’re not growling at me anymore. Huh? That doesn’t make much sense. I- eh, can’t worry about it right now. {coaxing} I brought you some food, buddy! It’ll be nice and tasty, and it’ll help you go off to sleep so I can get that thing off your leg. Doesn’t that sound good? Don’t you want to feel better?
{considering} Uhhh… how to give it to you… All right, I can push the tupperware into your reach with a stick, that’ll work just fine, yeah? Yeah, nothing wrong with that.
{scraping sfx}
{coaxing} All right, Mr. Wolf, don’t you want to eat the bacon? I promise it’ll taste good!
{perplexed} Was that… a sigh? Did you just sigh at- oh, well, you’re eating. Good enough for me.
{pleased} Wow, you polished that whole thing off. Okay, the pills should be kicking in soon. I think they’ll work as well on you as they would a human? We’re both mammals, our chemistry shouldn’t be too different. God, I hope that’s how it works.
{fading out} Yup, there we go. That’s it, buddy, just go to sleep… You’ll feel much better when you wake up, just let it all drift away… I’ve got you.
Okay. Damn, that leg looks even worse up close. I don’t think I can patch it up here. I might need to…
{some indicator of a time skip}
{fade in} -right, I think that oughta do it. All patched up, the gauze should hold decently well. As long as he doesn’t go stepping on any more traps, he should be able to use the leg as much as he needs. Oh! That reminds me. I need to find out who set that trap, maybe there’s some kind of-
{small voice} Your eyes are open. How long have your eyes been open?
{terrified} I- uh- wait, fuck, no- this isn’t what was supposed to- uh- okay, down, down, stay back, please don’t kill me- I’ll give you more bacon if you don’t kill me please-
I… I’m not dead?
{scared gasp}
I keep opening my eyes… and he keeps being there. Just tell me, am I gonna die or not?
{disbelief} What, you’re a communicative wolf, now? What’s that whine supposed to mean?
{plaintive} Oh my God, I’m losing it. I’m cracking up under the stress. I’m actually trying to talk with the vicious wild animal.
…Well, in for a penny. What is it that you want, Mr. Wolf? Is there some reason you haven’t killed me yet? I doubt it’s gratitude.
{perplexed} Wha- The refrigerator? You’re pawing at- {shell shocked} Oh my God. It’s the bacon. He wants more bacon. Well. I guess I did say I’d give him some, and I’m not dead. All right then, Mr. Wolf, if you’d like to move out of the way so I can reach the fridge…
Thank you.
This is the most surreal bloody thing I have ever encountered, I hope you know. How in the hell do you understand me?
{door opening and closing sfx}
Yeah, I didn’t really expect an answer. Well, uh, here’s your bacon. Please don’t bite my hand.
{scraping sfx}
{nervous} Are we… are we cool? I patched up your leg and gave you some food, and you don’t turn me into food? Sound reasonable?
…In the absence of evidence to the contrary, I’m going to take that as an affirmative.
{fond} Aww, that was a cute little- {nervous} okay, okay. Not calling you cute. Message received.
Uh- whoa, wait, what are you doing? What are you sniffing around for? I don’t have any more bacon-
The… trap? Why do you care about…
That is the strongest “mind your business” stare I have ever gotten from anything, human or animal. Understood, business minding.
Sniffing… OH! You’re going to- nope, never mind, I’m not involved, you do you, Mr. Wolf.
{annoyed} Y’know, just because you could kill me, doesn’t mean you have call to be rude. I did save your leg, after all.
{taken aback} Is that… your version of an apology?
I- Apology accepted. Or, wait. {mischievous} I can’t go through my life knowing I could’ve said this, but didn’t. I’ll accept your apology, on one condition. I get to scritch your ears.
Don’t look at me like that, you’re fluffy. I want to scritch. I- is that okay?
{gasp} All right, I’m going to risk it.
{scritching sfx}
{in awe} I’m… I’m petting a wolf. I did not expect this… ever.
You really are fluffy, this is nice. And it looks like you’re enjoying it, too-
Oop, okay. I guess we’re done.
All right, yup, I shall open the door. You shall exit the door, and continue to do whatever wolves do. Don’t step in any more traps, okay? I don’t want to have to risk getting mauled again.
{door opens and closes sfx}
{muffled} {exhale} {stunned} Oh my God. Did that really just happen? There’s no way that just happened. The wolf understood me. That’s not how wolves work! Wild animals don’t just speak English. Was he… was he somehow sentient? Does that mean that there are other creatures out there that can think like that? God, that just makes the fact that that spike trap exists even worse. I… I really can’t even process this. How does one begin to process this? I gave a wolf headpats. This is not a normal experience.
I… don’t think I’m going fishing today. Maybe I’ll just have a nice little lie-down, instead, and when I wake up it’ll have been a weird dream. Yeah. That’d work.
…I wonder if I’ll ever see him again?

Intro: While running through the forest one full moon night, you smelled a particularly delicious-seeming dead rabbit. Never one to waste a good meal, you go for it, but as you’re beginning to chow down, you feel something sharp closing over your leg. It hurts. You don’t know how you’re going to get out of this, but you do know one thing: You’re going to take a piece out of whoever did this to you.
Summary: Speaker finds Listener trapped in the woods, so she finds a way to patch him up.
Go ahead and monetize, it's fine. Word count is about 1700.
If you fill this or plan to fill this, please notify me. Please don't make edits without asking first.
Line breaks represent the listener talking or space where no one talks and should be short pauses, words within {brackets} represent the speaker’s tone or sfx. At ellipses, the speaker trails off, and at dashes, she is either cut off abruptly by the listener or by herself.
Author’s Note: Y’know, I don’t think this is what I envisioned originally, there was going to be a lot more of the “get you to calm down, heal your injuries, make the pain go away” stuff, but I think I like it nonetheless. It certainly feels more realistic now, with the lack of getting in range of a wild animal’s teeth. And who knows? Maybe it has more series potential the way it is. We might even find out, one day.
If you want to read this somewhere other than Reddit, it's also here.
​
​
{preoccupied} All right, what’s on the docket for today? Check the rabbit traps, see if I got anything edible, that’s a good start. After that, maybe I can head down to the creek, try to catch some fish. Even if I don’t get any bites, it’ll still be nice to- whoa.
{a little awed} Well, damn. That’s a beautiful sunrise. Been a long time since I’ve seen one like that. Hell, for someone who lives in nature, I don’t spend enough time appreciating it.
{sigh} Yup, lovely. {back to business} All right, that’ll be enough appreciating for now. Time and tide, after all, and scavengers are even less polite than they are.
All right, where did I leave the first one, again? Past the fallen tree, yes, leave the track at the rock that looks like a bear-
{scared gasp} {quieter} Okay. That’s a wolf. That’s a wolf. He sees me, yup, looking right at me. That’s bad. Okay, okay, survival lessons, what do I do… He probably doesn’t want a fight. Make myself larger, make noise.
{loudly} Hey! Hey, you, wolf! Get outta here! Come on, I know you don’t want to be around a human, shoo! Leave!
{to self} {worried} Why isn’t it- Okay, that’s not ideal. He’s not moving, he’s growling at me, I should- what should I do? This seems strange. If it was going to jump me, wouldn’t it have by now?
{trying not to panic} Oh, fuck, what do I do? If I move towards him, will he take it as aggression and attack? But, if I walk away, he could think of me as prey and attack anyway. I suppose it’s a wild animal, there’s no telling what it could actually do, is there? But… wait, does he look… why’s he looking at me like that? He almost seems… scared.
{forced calm} All right, use your brain, {insert name here}. There is a wolf, here, in the place where you set a rabbit trap. Why? Probably because it wants to eat the rabbit, and you’re interrupting a hungry predator. But no, that doesn’t fit so well, he’d be doing… something other than this, I think, if I actually was getting between him and food. Maybe he already finished it, and he’s just chilling? I suppose that’s possible… But then he would’ve left already, right? So there’s probably something keeping him here. Like what? No chance it’s cubs, I’d be dead already. Same with an injured packmate, probably same with a stash of food. So why…
The trap? No, that wouldn’t even make sense. It’s tiny. It’d kill a rabbit, for sure, but a wolf probably couldn’t even get his paw through the little loop, much less get caught by it. But maybe…
Hey, hey, stay calm, buddy. I’m not threatening you, I’m not even gonna get in your blind spot, just want to walk over to the side… Yup, that’s it, you can keep your eyes right on me, see? I’m not a threat. Just want to look at- {gasp}
{shocked} What? Where did- How!
{forced calm} Okay, okay, the how isn’t that important. The wolf has his leg caught in a trap. Bloody hell, that looks nasty. That explains the immobility, and the growling. Poor guy is probably scared out of his mind right now, with that thing through his leg. {upset} I can’t believe you can still even get your hands on spike traps like that! I mean, come on, isn’t that inhumane?
{forced calm} Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. How do I help him? I could… call the forestry service? But cell service is so horrible out here… I could drive into town and call them? Oh, but what if they said they can’t help? Or what if they’re too late, and he’s already chewed his paw off by the time they get here? Wait, do wolves do that? I think I read somewhere that they do that. I shouldn’t let him do that. Okay, can’t get anyone else to come help, I could try to get the trap off it myself? That’s… that’s a really not-good idea, isn’t it? Yeah, he’s a wild animal. Probably doesn’t like humans so much in the first place, and now he’s scared and in pain… He’d probably maim me before I even had the chance to help, no dice. But I have to do something…
{upset} Ugh! Come on, {insert name here}, think! There has to be something you can do. Something you can… {gasp}
{excited} That’ll work! Okay, wait- right there, Mr. Wolf, stay- do not chew your paw off while I’m gone, I promise I’m going to make the pain stop.
{running footsteps sfx} {fading away} {chuckle} Heh, I’m talking to the wolf like he understands me. Ridiculous. Oh, but I hope he gets the message…
{some indicator of a time skip}
{running footsteps} {out of breath} I’m back! I’m… back. I made it. You’re still here, right? Oh, oh good. Please tell me you didn’t injure your paw any further.
{confused} Wait… you’re not growling at me anymore. Huh? That doesn’t make much sense. I- eh, can’t worry about it right now. {coaxing} I brought you some food, buddy! It’ll be nice and tasty, and it’ll help you go off to sleep so I can get that thing off your leg. Doesn’t that sound good? Don’t you want to feel better?
{considering} Uhhh… how to give it to you… All right, I can push the tupperware into your reach with a stick, that’ll work just fine, yeah? Yeah, nothing wrong with that.
{scraping sfx}
{coaxing} All right, Mr. Wolf, don’t you want to eat the bacon? I promise it’ll taste good!
{perplexed} Was that… a sigh? Did you just sigh at- oh, well, you’re eating. Good enough for me.
{pleased} Wow, you polished that whole thing off. Okay, the pills should be kicking in soon. I think they’ll work as well on you as they would a human? We’re both mammals, our chemistry shouldn’t be too different. God, I hope that’s how it works.
{fading out} Yup, there we go. That’s it, buddy, just go to sleep… You’ll feel much better when you wake up, just let it all drift away… I’ve got you.
Okay. Damn, that leg looks even worse up close. I don’t think I can patch it up here. I might need to…
{some indicator of a time skip}
{fade in} -right, I think that oughta do it. All patched up, the gauze should hold decently well. As long as he doesn’t go stepping on any more traps, he should be able to use the leg as much as he needs. Oh! That reminds me. I need to find out who set that trap, maybe there’s some kind of-
{small voice} Your eyes are open. How long have your eyes been open?
{terrified} I- uh- wait, fuck, no- this isn’t what was supposed to- uh- okay, down, down, stay back, please don’t kill me- I’ll give you more bacon if you don’t kill me please-
I… I’m not dead?
{scared gasp}
I keep opening my eyes… and he keeps being there. Just tell me, am I gonna die or not?
{disbelief} What, you’re a communicative wolf, now? What’s that whine supposed to mean?
{plaintive} Oh my God, I’m losing it. I’m cracking up under the stress. I’m actually trying to talk with the vicious wild animal.
…Well, in for a penny. What is it that you want, Mr. Wolf? Is there some reason you haven’t killed me yet? I doubt it’s gratitude.
{perplexed} Wha- The refrigerator? You’re pawing at- {shell shocked} Oh my God. It’s the bacon. He wants more bacon. Well. I guess I did say I’d give him some, and I’m not dead. All right then, Mr. Wolf, if you’d like to move out of the way so I can reach the fridge…
Thank you.
This is the most surreal bloody thing I have ever encountered, I hope you know. How in the hell do you understand me?
{door opening and closing sfx}
Yeah, I didn’t really expect an answer. Well, uh, here’s your bacon. Please don’t bite my hand.
{scraping sfx}
{nervous} Are we… are we cool? I patched up your leg and gave you some food, and you don’t turn me into food? Sound reasonable?
…In the absence of evidence to the contrary, I’m going to take that as an affirmative.
{fond} Aww, that was a cute little- {nervous} okay, okay. Not calling you cute. Message received.
Uh- whoa, wait, what are you doing? What are you sniffing around for? I don’t have any more bacon-
The… trap? Why do you care about…
That is the strongest “mind your business” stare I have ever gotten from anything, human or animal. Understood, business minding.
Sniffing… OH! You’re going to- nope, never mind, I’m not involved, you do you, Mr. Wolf.
{annoyed} Y’know, just because you could kill me, doesn’t mean you have call to be rude. I did save your leg, after all.
{taken aback} Is that… your version of an apology?
I- Apology accepted. Or, wait. {mischievous} I can’t go through my life knowing I could’ve said this, but didn’t. I’ll accept your apology, on one condition. I get to scritch your ears.
Don’t look at me like that, you’re fluffy. I want to scritch. I- is that okay?
{gasp} All right, I’m going to risk it.
{scritching sfx}
{in awe} I’m… I’m petting a wolf. I did not expect this… ever.
You really are fluffy, this is nice. And it looks like you’re enjoying it, too-
Oop, okay. I guess we’re done.
All right, yup, I shall open the door. You shall exit the door, and continue to do whatever wolves do. Don’t step in any more traps, okay? I don’t want to have to risk getting mauled again.
{door opens and closes sfx}
{muffled} {exhale} {stunned} Oh my God. Did that really just happen? There’s no way that just happened. The wolf understood me. That’s not how wolves work! Wild animals don’t just speak English. Was he… was he somehow sentient? Does that mean that there are other creatures out there that can think like that? God, that just makes the fact that that spike trap exists even worse. I… I really can’t even process this. How does one begin to process this? I gave a wolf headpats. This is not a normal experience.
I… don’t think I’m going fishing today. Maybe I’ll just have a nice little lie-down, instead, and when I wake up it’ll have been a weird dream. Yeah. That’d work.
…I wonder if I’ll ever see him again?

Below is a list of some recent releases that are highly rated and some that will be released in June for your perusal. If you know of any other upcoming releases please post them in the comments!

RECENT RELEASES

The Burning Witch 3: A Humorous Romantic Fantasy by Delemhach

Lady Katarina Ashowan is used to getting into trouble, but her latest muddle takes the cake. A moment’s weakness in her attraction to Eric Reyes, crown prince of Daxaria, has landed her in an unexpected marriage with the man . . . just as her father, Lord Finlay Ashowan, arrives in Troivack to check on his headstrong daughter. As if figuring out how to acclimate her father to her scandalous elopement isn’t bad enough, there are rumors of dangerous magical plots afoot at court—with Kat seemingly at the center of them all.
For one thing, the devil is still prowling around, with dubious intentions as to Kat’s powers. For another, an underground network of wrongdoers has been spreading a mysterious and addictive drug throughout both Troivack and Daxaria. And perhaps most concerning, a villainess is hiding in plain sight somewhere close to Kat and her best friend, Queen Alina, hoping to use them to strike at the devil. Now it’s up to Kat—with the help of her kitten familiar, Pina, as well as her friends and family—to untangle the twisted web of courtly and magical intrigue before her hurried honeymoon is cut short by deadly disaster . . .

The Runaway Mate: A Rejected Mate Shifter Romance (Shifters of the Three Rivers) By Kira Nightingale

After what he did, I never wanted to see my fated mate again…
Mai: Four years ago, Ryan Shaw broke my heart, tore it into little pieces and then stomped on it. Ryan is my fated mate, but when I saw him with another woman at the regional meet of all the Packs, I’d had enough. I finally told him what he meant to me, and being the jerk that he is, he rejected me in front of everyone.
Heartbroken, I ran, trying to get as far away from him and the memory of that night as possible. Except I’m on a roll with picking jerks. So now I’m on the run again and heading back to the one place I know I’ll be safe. My brilliant plan is to lie low, heal, and then take off someplace new to start again. But Ryan knows I’m here now, and he has very different ideas.
Ryan: Mai is back, and my wolf is going crazy. I’ll do anything to protect her. It won’t be easy with secret plots to take over our Pack, her abusive ex sniffing around, and Mai’s urge to run every time she sees me. But there’s no way I’m letting her go, not again.

Fastlander Fallen by T.S. Joyce

Ace has one last promise to fulfill.
His father has asked him to try to join one of the Crews of Damon’s Mountains. When the new Fastlander Crew starts accepting applicants, Ace puts his name in the hat on a whim. Will the new Alpha ever allow him to be a part of his Crew? Not if he finds out who he really is. Ace has been hiding a secret about his lineage since he was a child, and now the Fastlanders are getting way too close for comfort. And to add to the pressure, there’s a human coordinating the Crew’s interview process that has his animal’s attention. At first he thinks his animal is hunting her, but the more he gets to know her, the more he realizes she is important. Corey Gable just might be the glue of the Fastlanders, and she doesn’t even realize her part in the destiny of this Crew. The problem? It’s twofold. One, he cannot under any circumstances bond to a human, and two? His life is in a free fall, and he cannot drag her into what is about to happen. If she wants to live, she’s got to stay human, and stay away from the Fastlanders. And most importantly? She has to stay away from Ace.
Corey Gable has lost someone she loves.
Corey’s cousin, Hallie, has been consumed by her new life with the shifters of Damon’s Mountains, and she’s left Corey behind. The only way to maintain her relationship with her cousin is to get involved in her new life—the ups, the downs, all of it. When Corey is roped into helping with the interview process of creating the new Fastlanders Crew, there are definitely some interesting characters who want the invite. One of them is tall, dark, and mysterious, and there’s something about him that keeps drawing her in—but he has big warnings for her. She’s messing with a destiny that could be the end of her life as she knows it. She wants to heed his advice, truly she does, but there’s just something about the mysterious stranger. And the more she finds out about who he is, the more she thinks she couldn’t leave him alone if she tried.

Hellhounds and Angel Cakes by Zoe Chant

He’s supposed to be a rough, tough, terrifying hellhound. That's hard when you're covered in chihuahuas.
Henry’s used to everyone being afraid of him – being a hellhound has that effect on people. What he’s not used to is having every animal within a four-mile radius suddenly wanting to be his best friend. Pigeons roosting on your shoulder: annoying, but mostly harmless. The local moose population stampeding toward you in the hopes of a hug: somewhat more worrying.
There’s nothing for it but to escape to the mountains, where he can use his hellhound form to intimidate the local wildlife into leaving him alone. But a stop for one last piece of cake before heading into the wilderness leads him straight to his fated mate. He's over the moon... but how can he court her when every animal in town is trying to leap into his arms?
Travel journalist Luna was looking forward to this assignment: covering the first annual Girdwood Springs Food Festival, along with her trademark: Fillmore, the world's ugliest dog. Specifically, she was looking forward to sampling all the amazing, mouth-watering local delicacies.
But there's other delights to sample in Girdwood Springs – such as the mind-bogglingly gorgeous, hunky man who is now covered in cake, thanks to Fillmore. And who seems to be strangely popular with the local animal population.
Suddenly, writing her article is the last thing on her mind…

Wild Scottish Beauty by Tricia O'Malley

“She was sunshine to my storm clouds, and I wondered how the two could ever coexist.”
A chance job offer in Scotland gives Willow Barlowe an excuse to escape the predictable life her overly controlling brother, Miles, wants for her. Excited to start fresh as a fashion intern for the local kiltmaker, Willow lands in small town Loren Brae brimming with sunshine and hope.
Until she discovers that her new boss is none other than Ramsay McMillan, her brother’s best friend, and the grumpiest man this side of the Atlantic. Never mind the ghost Highland coo that haunts the castle, nor the supposedly bewitched waters of Loch Mirren, Willow refuses to work under Ramsay’s watchful eyes, certain he’s reporting back to her brother.
Ramsay Kilts is home to one of the last remaining traditional kiltmakers in Scotland, Ramsay McMillan. Loyalty, continuity, and tradition are important to Ramsay–as is his privacy. After a family betrayal, Ramsay keeps his walls up, running a veritable kilt empire with as minimum fuss as he can. Enter Willow Barlowe–his new intern, good friend’s little sister, and a veritable thorn in his side.
If the thorn is made of sunshine and sparkles that is.
As the two clash, Ramsay must decide if loyalty is really more important than love?

Devious Gods by Caroline Peckham

Callie: Ruin chases close on our heels and the price we have paid for a chance at our salvation is higher than any of us could have presumed.
I have claimed a love so brutal that I fear losing it might destroy not just me but the world I have fought so desperately to save.
The gods watch us more closely than ever, urging us to fulfil the task our destiny demands. We only have to make it to the end of this road, but I fear what we might find when we reach that final destination.
Montana: I am no longer the girl born to ruin and ash, but a woman set on a path of salvation with my heart in the clutches of a monster.
Our eyes are finally open to the true enemies of our kind and now that we have managed to unite against all odds, we are determined to see the games of the gods end.
Time is running out and fate calls our name on a tumultuous wind. Let’s pray that we can answer it before damnation claims us all.

The Throne of Honour and Blood by J Bree

In our arrogance, the high fae forgot everything that mattered.
I carved out a reputation as the Savage Prince for my brutality against witches, but unable to wield our magic, I couldn’t stop my kingdom from being torn apart by war and famine while the Fates demanded my patience.
The worst was still to come.
After almost a thousand years of waiting for my Fates-blessed mate, and thousands of witches dead by my hand, the Fates revealed their cruelest truth yet.
With silver eyes that sliced to the bone and a humility that defied all reason, the witch I’m bound to has tested every inch of my restraint, but that was only the beginning.
Everything I once knew as true has come into question.
Loyalties will be tested, treaties broken, treason committed, and only the strongest will survive.
I am Prince Soren Celestial.
The rightful heir to the throne of the Southern Lands.
Nothing will keep me from my Fates-blessed mate.
Not even her hatred for me.

Devourer of Men: A Captain Hook, Crocodile, and Wendy Darling Reimagining by Nikki St. Crowe

I have few friends and fewer allies. What I do have on the island of Everland is a lot of people who want me gone. So when the Crocodile and Captain Hook reappear in my life, I am in no mood. And worse, they’re unknowingly endangering themselves by asking for me by a name I long considered dead.
Now, not only do I have to save myself, I have to save the two men who I swore I would murder with my bare hands if I ever set eyes on them again considering they abandoned me.
Unfortunately for me, Roc and Hook have other plans, and when I find myself caught between them, I have to make a decision: risk my heart or risk my life?
Devourer of Men is a dark MMF romantasy fairytale retelling. Characters have been aged up for this darker, grittier version. For a full list of content warnings, please visit the author's website.

Bespelled (Bewitched Book 2) By Laura Thalassa

“Neither magic, nor time, can keep us apart. We are like the stars. Eternal.”
No one told witch Selene Bowers having a soul mate would be so difficult. Nor did they warn her that he might be a vengeful, ancient sorcerer who would frame her for murder, force her to remember a past life he swears she lived, and then coerce her into an unbreakable marriage pact. But that’s exactly what happens the night of the Samhain Ball, when Selene finds herself in a jail cell.
After waking from enchanted sleep, Memnon swore to discover why Selene betrayed him long ago. But when his soul mate’s memories return, the truth reveals something else entirely. Horrified by his own actions and desperate to make amends, Memnon offers Selene the unthinkable: a magic bond that will give her full control over his will. And Selene is desperate enough to accept it.
But other enemies still haunt Henbane Coven, Selene’s magical academy, and they’ve taken a keen interest in her. If she wants to stop them, she’ll need Memnon’s help. But partnering with the sorcerer is a tricky business, especially when he’s dead set on winning her heart. And that can’t happen…because the bond controlling him will break the moment she falls in love with him.

Beautiful Beast (Dragons of Viria) by Devyn Sinclair

Standing in front of a dragon means dying by fire, but the heart knows there’s more than one way to burn.
Humans and dragons are at war, and I am a pawn in the battle.
Princess of a dying land, my life is not my own, and a marriage to a vicious, dragon-hunting prince will save my people from deadly famine or death by fire.
But before I can vow my life to a monster, dragons drop screaming from the sky with a single aim. End the alliance. Kill me. I welcome the flames, relieved to burn instead of rot.
But the flames never come.
One look in the dragons' eyes, and they carry me away. Three dragons whose gaze burns with hunger and fills me with fire.
They're not what we were taught, and every passing day I learn more of the truth. Dragons are not the enemy we thought they were.
Still, one question remains: for centuries no one has stood before a dragon and survived. If these dragons were sent to kill me, why am I still alive?

Midlife Vampire Hunter (The Forty Proof Series Book 9) by Shannon Mayer

Crash:
I had her in my arms, only to lose her moments later. Frantic doesn't even begin to describe my state of mind as I search for Bree.
That search takes me deep into my past and to a family home that I swore I would never return to.
To find Bree, I must face a queen I defied and a monster that wants my soul. All while being heckled by a demon-infested blade.
Goddess help me succeed.
Breena:
Being abducted by a woman who is supposed to be dead, and weirdly looks a heck of a lot like me, is disturbing. Being told my death is needed to complete a wicked spell and that I'll be turned into a vampire? Even more disturbing.
I can't reach Crash or my friends. I have no idea where I am. My only ally? Alan. My ex-husband. Yup, you read that right,
The path to the end of my story is shadowed in fog, danger, and mystery, but I begin to see through it as the players and truth emerge. And that sight shows me that the sliver of hope is worth hanging onto, that my friends are with me even when I cannot see them, and that a future free of those who mean us harm is possible.
Even if it costs me more than I ever planned on paying

UPCOMING JUNE RELEASES

The Little Shop of Grand Curiosities by Iris Lake

Nepheli’s Little Shop of Grand Curiosities is the last scrap of magic left in the humdrum city of Elora as the Dreadful Mundane slowly takes over its residents’ hearts, and she is determined to preserve it any way she can. But when Apollo, a charming and mysterious traveler from the other side of the world, walks into her Shop, bringing her all kinds of trouble, Nepheli, for the first time in her life, is stolen away from the familiar wonders of her Curiosity Shop and is thrust into a dangerous world of lethal creatures and heartbreaking magic. As the two of them embark on a long journey of self-discovery, Nepheli will soon realize that the most curious things in life lie right beyond the reach of one’s comfort zone.
The Little Shop Of Grand Curiosities is a lighthearted fantasy romance about the true meaning of love, the power of empathy, and the unremitting yearning to be extraordinary as an act of rebellion against the mundaneness of the world.

Filthy Rich Fae by Geneva Lee

Cate Holloway knows the unspoken rule of New Orleans: avoid the powerful Gage crime family at all costs. Of course, that was before her brother got caught in their chaos. Now Cate has no choice but to confront the dark and forbidding prince of New Orleans himself and beg for her brother’s life. But Lachlan Gage is as lethal as he is beautiful…and the only currency he’s interested in is her soul.
Because Lachlan isn’t just some ruthless criminal. He’s fae. And he has his own secret reasons for binding her to him. Tricked and desperate, Cate is torn between humanity and the breathtaking Otherworld. A place filled with shadows and secrets, with members of each fae court plotting against her just as her captor’s motives for trapping her become more mysterious. And if she can’t break this sinister bargain in the next thirty days, she’ll be bound to the inscrutable yet infuriatingly tempting fae prince and his deadly world…forever.

The Princess and the Pack by Fallon English

Princess Ivy and Prince Cillian have been fated since birth. Ivy has always known that one day, she must leave her country to become not only Cillian’s bride, but Namara’s future Queen.
As an Omega and a princess, her life revolves around duty; not the dream that she harbors of life-altering love. Her station dictates she deny Nature’s call for a pack of her own. Instead, she must wed and settle for one - and only one - Alpha to preserve their pristine, royal bloodlines.
But fate has other plans in mind for Princess Ivy. Plans that involve not just her Betrothed, but his best friend and Ivy’s childhood nemesis - a nobleman, and the handsome son of the Royal Gardener.
Will societal expectations and tradition pull them apart? Or will Ivy and her Alphas take charge of their fate and give in to a love with the power to change the world?

A Rival of Hearts by Tessonja Odette

Two rival writers. One prestigious publishing contract. A bargain of hearts and seduction.
They say never bargain with the fae. They also say don’t get drunk on fae wine. Yet romance author Edwina Danforth has managed a blunder with both on her first visit to the infamous faelands. Now she's trapped in a magic-fueled bet she barely remembers with a man she’d be happier to forget. The terms? Whoever can bed the most lovers during their month-long dueling book tour wins a coveted publishing contract.
The win should be easy for Edwina. She’s known for penning scintillating tales of whirlwind romance. There’s just one her imagination vastly exceeds her bedroom experience. But when failure means plummeting her career back into obscurity, losing isn’t an option.
Her handsome fae rival, William Haywood, poses an even greater challenge. Not only are his looks as aggravatingly perfect as his track record behind closed doors, but he has his own reasons for playing to win, and he won’t go down without a fight. Unless, of course, it’s a different kind of going down. In that case, he’s fair game.
Edwina and William clash in a rivalry of romance. But what happens when their objects of desire…turn out to be each other?

So recently i posted about the past story for my breakup . Before him I dated 2 other guys 1 in school and the other LDR for 6 months during college time. After those relationships ended I didn't felt this much pressure in my head like I'm feeling now . I can't get over the fact like how can someone show this much love and care and after some time tell that it was all lust and it's your fault if you thought it was love . He said love is not just food , sex and roaming around its supporting and understanding each other's too...I supported that guy everytime he faced something, literally every fu*king time and he still blames me that the relationship ended because of me? I cannot take this blame and I'm very furious and mad at myself.
Eg 1 : recent thing happened that his new bicycle got stolen from his flat , his mom made a big scene about that . That he should not have bought that cycle now 6k is wasted and everything. Later that night he left his home to go and live with his friend in noida . He was also looking for a flat for himself to stay later . As I also say at home , I called up my friends who are in noida and can help with a flat and also few brokers to get a flat . There is more to this story... But how else should I have supported him? Isn't it was all that I could have done ...i also asked him if he wanted to meet next day and search for flats he said NO . Later he was telling me ' that I was suffering so much for a place to stay that night , why didn't you asked me to stay in your place ' tf i live in 1bhk with my parents , how could I ask him to stay there . Eg2 : HR caught him downloading p*rn video in laptop ( we work virtually) I was all with him every day assuring him nothing will happen and i has helping him to look for another job as well . But later it was all fine he just got a warning not to open banned sites. But he still says you didn't supported me or looked after me . What else can I do more??🙁
We are working together in a big MNC , but I can't take it anymore . His presence, everything is driving me mad ...my performance has dipped ..I am having belly and chest pain everyday. I want to switch job . I am trying but I'm getting far locations like manesar and far places from gurgaon. I can't relocate there as my parents are in Delhi . Please if anyone can help me get out of here , I'll be grateful. I cannot sleep or eat properly.
I have operations background, and 3+ yrs of experience as a team lead . I'm up to take anything, I just want to get away from here , my brain is not being able to take it anymore. Sometimes I feel like dying to stop all these thoughts.
Please help me!

I am officially out. Two nights I made the decision to finally walk out, and I am definitely officially out of that household. All the years, all the abuse, all the venom and narcissism and manipulation, gone in one night. I am starting to feel so light, so free. And it all started with one little argument to finally push me over the edge. So for context, I'm 22. I'm an international student from Mexico, and I'm living right now in the United States, studying a I tried running away from the house a little over a year ago, back when I still lived in Mexico. It didn't work. I didn't have a support network, it wasn't a generally good environment, and my parents had way too many connections to make it safe for me to go outside and enjoy life without being stalked. I ended up going back to their home, giving them a second chance under the guise of them "having changed" and us going to therapy.(All of this of course after they broke into my home to get me to "talk") Obviously, things went back to what they always are. Now the whole fallout starts about two weeks ago. My parents went on a trip back to Mexico. I stayed home alone, and the entire week I kept thinking to myself, I was so free. I felt more at peace than I had been in months without them at home. While they were gone, I went on a trip with my cousin to my aunt's house. I had a talk with that whole side of the family (My aunt, my uncle, my cousins) and I finally opened up to them about years of abuse. Years of pain and complaints that I kept in me. And I had to be honest with myself and tell them "I'm not happy there anymore". I received hugs, they cried with me, and they told me that they've known she had a problem for years, they just didn't know the extent and depth. Pretty much my entire extended family has beef with my mom because she's put in so much effort in burning every bridge in her life with the way she treats people. I was finally seen and understood and validated by family, they told me "This is not okay". They told me "We are here for you"
Fast forward to two nights ago. My family and I have, by this point, moved to a new place to rent, and my dad buys some Ikea furniture for our rooms. It's night time and I'm in my room assembling a bedframe and a night stand. I am so tired and done with the whole process, and my Narcissist mother comes in. I placed my bed away from either wall of my room so that there's space for me to jump into bed from either side. I guess she didn't appreciate that (even though it's MY room and it doesn't affect her), and the following conversation ensued: "You're gonna need 2 night stands for that bed placement to work" "Huh? What do you mean?" "One space is gonna be empty if you put your bed there (??)" "Oh but I'm not placing the night stand there" "What do you mean you're not?" "Yeah, I'm gonna place it over here. Not next to the bed" "Well that's not where it goes, it's supposed to go next to your bed" "Yeah, but I don't like it next to my bed, I like it here" By this point she starts raising her voice "Yeah! And I'm telling you that's not what night stands are made for." "Well I don't like it there! It's my room" "Lower your tone!" "I'm not even yelling at you" "Yes you are!!!" My dad comes in the room. As usual, he immediately takes her side without asking questions "Hey!! Calm down!! Lower your tone [my name]!!" "I'm not even yelling" "Yes you are, you don't realize the way you talk to us" My mom suddenly brings up something from earlier in the day. I introduced her to a college classmate I ran into, and I guess she made up some narrative in her mind: "And you know what!! The way your friend said hi to me earlier today, I know you've been talking about me. He didn't even want to hug me!!! I know you've been talking badly about me behind my back, like you always do!!!" (This literally never happened. I'm not even that close to this classmate. He knows next to nothing about my personal life) "What are you even talking about?? No I didn't!" "Yes you did!!" "No I did not" "I know for a fact you did!! You've done it before, liar" "Ugh you know what? You're imagining stuff. You're making stuff up that isn't there. I'm telling you I didn't." She walks out of the room rolling eyes at me like I'm some idiot she has to deal with, and my dad stays in the room with me. He goes on this very vague and inflammatory lecture about 'the boy who cried wolf' and how my actions have repercussions on my reputation. About how 8 years ago I complained about them to some friend and now they can't trust me anymore. I tell him that I'm not doing that and that, I'm not sure what hoops they expect me to jump through to "prove" I'm trustworthy again. My mom suddenly walks in the room again, and she says "If you've changed so much, why don't you let us go through your computer, huh?? since you're so different now and you've changed so much!! Go on [dad's name], take his computer and go through it, let's see what we find" This of course with the intent of checking all my emails, messages, content, anything. As I've posted here before, my parents absolutely hate my significant other, and I know that if they go on my computer and see my messages with her, it's going to catapult me into a whole new realm of abuse and isolation. Plus, I'm 22. Why should my parents have access to MY computer and my private matters?? This whole time I am thinking, "I can't do this anymore. I can't stand this. I can't live like this, I can't anymore. When will I put a stop to this??" My dad stands up from where he was sitting next to me, and he goes "Well come on then, [my name]. Are you gonna show us?" My mom, like a comedically evil witch is barking orders with a sinister smile and a vengeful tone on her "Take his computer now!" "You WILL give us the password [my name]" This entire time, I am silent. I am silent for what seems like an eternity. In reality it must have been a minute or two. Finally, they snap after watching me silently "Give us the password now!!" And finally my survival instincts kick in. All those years, all that time. And I have had it. I can't do it anymore. I stood up, I shrugged, I adjusted my pants, and with my firm voice I went "No." The shock on their faces was like the shock you saw at the Oscars when Will Smith slapped Chris Rock "EXCUSE YOU!! GIVE IT TO US NOW!! REBELLIOUS CHILD!! GIVE IT UP NOW!!" "No. I won't." And immediately as if on cue "Get out of this house. Get out right now" "Okay!" I started grabbing a bunch of sweaters and items, and my mom immediately goes "You're not taking anything out of this house!!" "Okay!" And I head downstairs to get out. Immediately they run after me to block the door "You're not leaving" "Yes I am, you just kicked me out" "Oh you ARE kicked out!!! After we talk!" "Nope, I'm leaving now" There's a small tussle and fight. They try to grab me, I'm stronger than them, I make it out of the house while my mother is saying something about calling the police or whatever. I'm outside the house with my dad and he won't let go, it's just me and him now while that woman is inside doing who knows what. My dad is holding on to my arm "[my name], please let's talk please please" "Let go of me" "Please, I don't want to" "If you don't let go of me right now, I'm gonna start screaming and pounding on the neighbor's door, and it's gonna escalate" He lets go, and finally, I lay it all on him. Years and years of misery, of frustration, which probably warrants a whole other post and which I recorded in my voice memos just in case" I even told him that I know my mom has a mental illness, something I've never expressed to him before. He told me "Please don't tell me what it is", and I respected that. We were outside in the cold talking for about an hour and a half. Until finally my mother opened the door again, this time trying to act innocent and shy and harmless. "You guys are still out here? Come back inside, it's cold. Please, talk the rest inside". My dad tells her: "He doesn't want to come back inside. He says he won't" "Ugh, well then honey, let him grab his things and leave! He doesn't want to, fine!" and I go "Thank you" I head back inside and start packing everything. My mom tries to make small talk, and I'm very civil and answer back normally. Until she goes "You can't take the laptop with you though" "Um yes I can." and back again with her condescending tone "Umm no you can't" "Yes I can, it's mine." "No it's not, we bought it for you" "Yeah, but you gave it to me as a gift. You can't just take gifts back. It's mine" "No!!! That's ours!! And you are LEAVING IT!!" "No!" She reaches for the computer, at the same time I reach for a shirt next to the computer, she sees my arm approaching and she starts screeching like an animal "DONT YOU TOUCH ME!!! DON'T DARE LAY A SINGLE FINGER ON ME!! IF YOU TOUCH A SINGLE HAIR I'LL HAVE YOU IN JAIL FOR A YEAR" (yeah ok) I just had to smile at how dramatic she is. "No one's touching you. Calm down" "YOU'RE A MANIPULATOR. YOU LIAR!! YOU'RE A REBELLIOUS UNGRATEFUL CHILD IS WHAT YOU ARE. YOU THINK YOU'RE LEAVING THIS HOUSE WITH THIS COMPUTER? YOU'LL HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME. YOU THINK YOU'RE TAKING THIS COMPUTER? HUH?" And then she joyfully slammed my laptop against the table. It broke open and pieces flew out. It got completely bent out of shape and obviously rendered useless. She had that narcissistic smile, thinking full of joy, that this would be my last straw, waiting to see how much pain she had inflicted on me by smashing something I worked with. But instead, I laughed in her face. I laughed, and it ignited the fire even more. What followed was a barrage of insults and manipulation tactics "YOU DESERVED ALL THOSE TIMES I BEAT YOU!! TRAITOR. LEECH. JUDAS" (even though she denied she ever even beat me. also, if I'm Judas does that make her god herself in her mind?) I finally finish packing my stuff after going "Ok. Mhm. Wow. Ok. Sure. Uh huh" for 10 minutes. Finally she's done unloading her venom after I mock her face and voice, and she tells me "When you leave, close your door on the way out" "Uh huh, okay" My dad is disappointed. I'm not sure he even knows what I'm feeling or thinking "I see you've made your decision. I wish you'd think about it." "I've been thinking about it for years" "It hurts me that you're doing this" "It hurts me too dad. Sorry this happened" I called my cousin that I mentioned at the start "Hey, sorry to do this so late. Could you come pick me up?" "Yeah, are you okay? What's going on?" "Something happened. I need a place to stay" "Okay, on my way" While I was outside waiting for him to pick me up, my mother tried one last tactic. "Goodbye son" with a warm motherly voice she could only fake. "Goodbye." "You know I love you right? and I forgive you for everything you did" "Hm." "Can I get a hug before you leave?" I wanted to be petty, but for my own conscience I felt that if they crash and died tomorrow, I'd regret not having some sort of goodbye hug. However fake and spiteful it was. So I hugged her very briefly and with a bit of disgust. "I'm glad you called your cousin. Just tell him the truth, say you decided to walk out of here. Not that we kicked you out" Those were the last words we spoke. That we will probably ever speak to each other. That was her concern, what I'd say about her to others.
Once my cousin picked me up, I loaded everything I had in his car, and off we went to his house. I told him everything, and he was glad I had finally put a stop to it. He understood, and now we are here. This is the most free I've ever felt. I'm going to continue my studies without feeling judged at home. I have a proper home now, where I am treated fairly, wanted. There's been so many phone calls, with my aunt, my mother. These days my mother hasn't bothered contacting me. I think she knows she's lost all power on me. My dad on the other hand has sent texts concerned about my well being. I've answered them briefly and he's been respectful enough to not try to do more. My mother from what I last heard called my cousin (He's 33 btw) threatening him with all sorts of insults. My cousin told her she's officially not welcome at the house, and if she shows up, cops will be called on her. My girlfriend is so happy to finally see me out of this horrible house, as am I. I don't know what to even do with all this freedom. I'll take it easy and slow for a bit. No drinking, no crazy stuff. I need to process a lot still, but I'm so glad this is finally over. For years she loved to tell me "Everything you do in secret will be shouted from the rooftops" To threaten and scare me into "confessing" things. Well, if you're reading this, you witch, I am now shouting what you did, and will continue to shout from the rooftops that I beat you. Witch, I know you hate that word. Sorry, not sorry. Thank you everyone. TL;DR: Huge argument with parents about night stand that escalated into me leaving the house for good. Am staying with cousin. Mother has been warned to not come close or cops will be called.

Ember curled up underneath the bed in the Captain's quarters aboard the *Drakmaw.* The Cat-sized dragon counted the whole seven coins that made up her hoard over and over, while reflecting on the past few weeks.
Ejder had grown more distant, spending most of his time out patrolling on the *Drakwing,* while Ember had remained on Zeroth, in the new airship, the *Drakmaw*. Over that time, she’d revealed a lot more than she intended to.
Nhak, the poor armored ghost, had convinced her to reveal her current situation of being little more than a mana battery to Ejder by now. The Immortal Lady that owned Zeroth had overheard, as did another person she could not remember for the life of her.
She had asked the Immortal Lady about seeing if she had the potential to gain psychic powers. She hasn't gotten a chance to try unlocking them yet.
She sighed.
“Why do I let them see me like that? A dragon isn't supposed to be desperate, or scared. We're powerful creatures! They should all be fearing me! Ejder should bow to me, not drain me!”
“So why am I scared?”
She knew the reason. The prospect of alienating herself from Ejder even more by denying his control terrified her, when she was already neglected like a childhood toy.
She crawled out from under the bed and ventured out into the hallways of the airship. The various crew members and Drakenwardens wandering the halls carefully stepped around her. Even they paid more attention to her than Ejder did.
*”He plays himself to be all high and righteous, but he’s worse than the men he commands.”*
She came to the cafeteria area, and jumped up onto a table next to Aelia, who had adopted the *Drakmaw* as her own vessel, rather than the *Drakwing.*
“Hey, little gal. Nobody to talk to down below?” The Drakenwarden Captain asked.
“Yeah. Things are super serious down there after the whole forest fire incident. I'm afraid that if I say anything slightly out of line, I’ll get kicked across the room. And everyone’s so busy! And then Nhak’s ghost hasn't been around for a while…”
“Well, you might need to get kicked across the room every now and then. It’d be good for you. But, I can tell that now isn’t the time.”
Ember chuckled a little. “Well, there was that one time Talios smited me with his antimagic gauntlet. That’s about as close as I’ve gotten.”
Aelia sighed. “Alright, I’ll cut to the chase. When are you going to tell Ejder?”
“Tell him what?”
“That things need to change. That he needs to stop valuing his own fame and power over your wellbeing. That he needs to slow down. The Drakenwardens were a good idea, but I think he went overboard the moment he bought this second airship, and he’s already considering another.”
Aelia tapped the table with her gauntleted hand. “I don’t mind the ‘Wardens being expanded, but for your sake… If you let Ejder get too far, he’ll be spending so much time managing the Drakenwardens that he doesn’t have time for you.”
“I know, but… I don’t want to make the chasm between us deeper. I know how he’ll react. He’ll say that I need to earn his attention, but then he doesn’t ever give me the chance…”
Aelia picked up the little dragon like a household pet and set her on her shoulder. “Ejder means well. Its just that, for a wizard, he’s dumb as a rock. He’ll learn eventually, when karma catches up to him.”
“What?”
“Oh, come on, you haven’t noticed? How he’s been doing so well lately? Hasn’t lost a fight, hasn’t gotten himself killed, managed to keep that dark thing-”
“The Shepherd.”
“Managed to keep the Shepherd under control… Look at it. Karma is gonna shove its boot up his ass pretty soon, and the two of us get to laugh at him together.”
Ember laughed out loud at that one.
“By the way, I know you don’t want people giving you things for your horde, but… I found this on a mission, looted it from some ruffian in an alleyway. I thought you’d like it.” Aelia pulled out a small scabbard, inlaid with five different gems. Held within was a small dagger, which had a red dragon head for a pommel.
“Oooh…”
“Ejder figured it was something related to Tiamat, so I checked it for curses. None, according to the magic. So, here you go.”
Ember grabbed the scabbard, and looped the straps meant to go on a belt around her shoulders, wearing it like a backpack.
“How does it look?” She asked.Aelia chuckled. “Like you’re about to go sacrifice someone in Tiamat’s name. Just don’t tell Ejder.”
“Ha! Perfect!”
“Alright, now go along. I’ve got to help prepare the *Drakmaw* to travel universes. It’s really stressful on the hull compared to just an inter-planar jump.”
“Alright. Bye.” Ember sat and watched the captain walk away. She dropped down off the table and huddled underneath, listening to the crew moving around, getting ready.
She examined the dagger, with its extremely sharp edge, and beautifully engraved pommel. She then realized something.She hadn’t even made a conscious effort to physically interact with it. It should have gone right through her semicorporeal body. But it didn’t.“Aelia said it wasn’t cursed, but it’s definitely magic in some way.”
That night, Ember had another vision. The same one she’d been having for weeks. She was within a cave, walking toward the back to a nest. Where the nest used to lie, there was nothing but broken eggshells, mangled debris, and the strangled necks of the unborn wyrmlings that had been in the eggs. An overwhelming surge of emotion overcame her, despite having had the dream at least three dozen times. She collapsed to the ground, everything going black.
Then, the scene shifted again. Ember felt held back by chains, forced to watch but not interfere as tiny wyrmlings, barely out of their eggs, were being dragged by leashes and whipped with adamantine chains. She let out a roar that scared the poor wyrmlings, but the human captors were unfazed. Finally, a pair of ballistas were rolled up, and fired bolts right between her ribs and into her lungs.
Then a new scene, where she stood still, being looked down upon by a massive red dragon. It spoke two simple words.
“You disappointment.”
A tail smashed into her skull from the side, and the scene shifted again.
She watched as four other dragons were killed around her, White, green, blue, and then black. She was the fifth to be executed. She blissfully watched this scene, knowing it was at least the least painful of them all. The massive axe came down on her neck, severing her spinal chord.
The scene changed again. There she stood, before the massive 5-headed dragon. Pleading for the goddess’s blessing. Instead, she felt as five different breath weapons turned her to ash all at once.
While these scenes were all the same, this time, she noticed something. A dagger, stuck in the masvvie 5-headed dragon’s front arm. The same one Aelia had given her, but much larger.
Before she could comprehend this, the scene changed again, to yet another dragon, calling her a disappointment. This dragon would also bash her skull in with its tail, but she can practically feel her soul fly out of her body. And then she collided with something.
Ember snapped awake, still under the table in the cafeteria.
“What the…”
She crawled out from under the table, to hear the sounds of crew members rushing around, and messages being magically broadcasted. *”Hmm. Battle must be going on.”*
She jumped into a vent, crawling through until she found herself back in the captain’s quarters. She found her tiny hoard in disarray, and slid it back into a pile, placing the dagger next to it. She would have to examine the dagger more, and figure out what the battle was about later. But for now, she had too much on her mind.
/uw Just a “quick” little lorepost to summarize some stuff going on behind the scenes, to provide some context for some upcoming loreposts. Not that really anyone is gonna read them, but…
And, note for the Paragons that might be reading, yes, this is a little behind. I started writing this days ago, so, canonically, this takes place right before the Craterus battle.

Hello! In advance I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I just need someone to talk to.
23F I just broke off my engagement to my fiancée 33M. We have been together for 6 years . Outside of all adult responsibilities . This man was my “Best friend”. Same music taste, Similar Interests. Same humor. Loves to travel, never had to force a conversation. etc just naming a few. From the start of our relationship I met him 3 weeks fresh our of high school. He was in a very tough spot. My Fiancée at the time didn’t have a car so 4 months into the relationship and I spent all my graduation money + savings on surprising him with a new car. Within that same year he cheated. (I forgave him but made him delete all social media and I do check his phone regularly.) Through out the first two years of our relationship I got his credit fixed, his debt paid off and got him on a straight path including getting his record straightened out( by this time I’m 19 going on 20) I thought that would absolutely show him how dedicated I was to him and our future. Show him How he didn’t have to struggle alone. Yes I was a young teenager but Ive been working since I was 15. I had my own money why not help someone in need?? Fast forward multiple years of this relationship. I handle all house hold responsibilities along with both of our taxes, Bills and car maintenance etc all adult responsibilities you can think of I handle. He would tell me how appreciative he was and how he couldn’t imagine life without me etc. I felt like he valued me . Through this relationship he’s cheated 3 times. I forgave him everytime. ( now looking back I believed I wouldn’t have ever found better so I took him back so I wouldn’t mess up my chance at finally having a husband). (Over these last 2 years i’m just now getting my confidence and realizing I am actually k good looking I think). I showed up alot for this man and made alot of serious life sacrifices to help him. he’s never showed up for me without me having to beg multiple times . Last week I simply asked him “Why do you never get my flowers or write me back love letters?” He knows how much I love the idea and thought of love letters. He loves it too. I wake up early every morning before he goes to work. I pack his lunch box and write a love letter EVERY morning. (not exaggerating) he has duffle bag he keeps filled with all my love notes to him.
His response to my Question: I know you’ve asked me for them before but to be honest i’m just not there in our relationship yet to be getting you flowers”
Me: “What do you mean you aren’t there yet??”
His response: “You want all these extravagant things but I’m not there yet emotionally to give that to you. You need to be patient with me, You’ll get that from me down the line”
That hurt me a lot. So I asked him how could he say that after all the stuff Ive bring to the table? All the things I do to make sure his life is easier for solely just him. I don’t deserve flowers from you yet??
He just responded saying how it may not be fair to me but that’s just where he is at. I asked him how can you say you aren’t emontionally there to get me flowers but you made the decision to purpose to me in front of your whole family. (Literally just his whole family, when I asked where was mine he said he totally forgot to think about any of them… He didn’t even ask my dad for his blessings)…. Selfish!
His response:” Because I love you so much. I have no doubt you’d be an amazing wife, my mom loves you, my family adores you. I know if I have kids with you our kids will be loved and raised right. You’re always there for me so I know you’ll always be there for my family and our future kids. You act like such a great wife already. “
In that moment I told him I couldn’t do it anymore and that I was done. He was so confused. He asked why. And how he can change and If I really wanted flowers that bad to just “text me on the days you want them and I’ll go pick it up it’s that easy” “You want to leave me over Flowers?”.
I want the love I give to be reciprocated. I want to have peace of mind knowing if something goes wrong in life I have my future husband to fall back on or even simply just call. I want to be given flowers without asking. I want love letters. I want date nights. I want to be a more feminine woman and not be the one taking both of our cars to mechanics for Oil changes, alignments, Tune Ups etc. I want all the years love and sacrifice I put into this relationship to have meant something. I feel used I feel like I was completely used and taken for granted. I thought being with an Older man would come with stability and a man that can lead and teach me, someone I can learn from. That was the sole reason I stayed I thought once I was able to get him out of his rut he would be able to be the man he talked so much about being but 6 years later. He hasn’t progressed at all. He looks to me the person 10 years younger than him to get things done with shame or any inkling in his body to help make anything easier for me. I can’t do this anymore, I’m not happy .I want to live life like a 23 year old should. I’ve never been to the club. I’ve never had a girls night. I’ve never even sat at the bar before. I never lived solely just for myself. I never done alot of the normal things a regular early women in her 20’s would have experienced. I sacrificed alot for him and it all was for nothing. I’m so hurt and angry. It’s been 3 weeks no contact. But just yesterday a friend of mine sent me a video of him spotted with his best friends blowing money (that he owes me) at a strip club. I’m trying to just let go and let God but I’m so angry. I robbed myself out of so much young experiences I should’ve had by now.
How do I force myself to Unlove someone I genuinely cared about so much?
TL;DR: Asked Fiancé of 6 year for Flowers and a Love letter . Got denied. Told me he’s not emotionally “there yet” to get me flowers… but was able to purpose to me??

Hello! In advance I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I just need someone to talk to.
23F I just broke off my engagement to my fiancée 33M. We have been together for 6 years . Outside of all adult responsibilities . This man was my “Best friend”. Same music taste, Similar Interests. Same humor. Loves to travel, never had to force a conversation. etc just naming a few. From the start of our relationship I met him 3 weeks fresh our of high school. He was in a very tough spot. My Fiancée at the time didn’t have a car so 4 months into the relationship and I spent all my graduation money + savings on surprising him with a new car. Within that same year he cheated. (I forgave him but made him delete all social media and I do check his phone regularly.) Through out the first two years of our relationship I got his credit fixed, his debt paid off and got him on a straight path including getting his record straightened out( by this time I’m 19 going on 20) I thought that would absolutely show him how dedicated I was to him and our future. Show him How he didn’t have to struggle alone. Yes I was a young teenager but Ive been working since I was 15. I had my own money why not help someone in need?? Fast forward multiple years of this relationship. I handle all house hold responsibilities along with both of our taxes, Bills and car maintenance etc all adult responsibilities you can think of I handle. He would tell me how appreciative he was and how he couldn’t imagine life without me etc. I felt like he valued me . Through this relationship he’s cheated 3 times. I forgave him everytime. ( now looking back I believed I wouldn’t have ever found better so I took him back so I wouldn’t mess up my chance at finally having a husband). (Over these last 2 years i’m just now getting my confidence and realizing I am actually k good looking I think). I showed up alot for this man and made alot of serious life sacrifices to help him. he’s never showed up for me without me having to beg multiple times . Last week I simply asked him “Why do you never get my flowers or write me back love letters?” He knows how much I love the idea and thought of love letters. He loves it too. I wake up early every morning before he goes to work. I pack his lunch box and write a love letter EVERY morning. (not exaggerating) he has duffle bag he keeps filled with all my love notes to him.
His response to my Question: I know you’ve asked me for them before but to be honest i’m just not there in our relationship yet to be getting you flowers”
Me: “What do you mean you aren’t there yet??”
His response: “You want all these extravagant things but I’m not there yet emotionally to give that to you. You need to be patient with me, You’ll get that from me down the line”
That hurt me a lot. So I asked him how could he say that after all the stuff Ive bring to the table? All the things I do to make sure his life is easier for solely just him. I don’t deserve flowers from you yet??
He just responded saying how it may not be fair to me but that’s just where he is at. I asked him how can you say you aren’t emontionally there to get me flowers but you made the decision to purpose to me in front of your whole family. (Literally just his whole family, when I asked where was mine he said he totally forgot to think about any of them… He didn’t even ask my dad for his blessings)…. Selfish!
His response:” Because I love you so much. I have no doubt you’d be an amazing wife, my mom loves you, my family adores you. I know if I have kids with you our kids will be loved and raised right. You’re always there for me so I know you’ll always be there for my family and our future kids. You act like such a great wife already. “
In that moment I told him I couldn’t do it anymore and that I was done. He was so confused. He asked why. And how he can change and If I really wanted flowers that bad to just “text me on the days you want them and I’ll go pick it up it’s that easy” “You want to leave me over Flowers?”.
I want the love I give to be reciprocated. I want to have peace of mind knowing if something goes wrong in life I have my future husband to fall back on or even simply just call. I want to be given flowers without asking. I want love letters. I want date nights. I want to be a more feminine woman and not be the one taking both of our cars to mechanics for Oil changes, alignments, Tune Ups etc. I want all the years love and sacrifice I put into this relationship to have meant something. I feel used I feel like I was completely used and taken for granted. I thought being with an Older man would come with stability and a man that can lead and teach me, someone I can learn from. That was the sole reason I stayed I thought once I was able to get him out of his rut he would be able to be the man he talked so much about being but 6 years later. He hasn’t progressed at all. He looks to me the person 10 years younger than him to get things done with shame or any inkling in his body to help make anything easier for me. I can’t do this anymore, I’m not happy .I want to live life like a 23 year old should. I’ve never been to the club. I’ve never had a girls night. I’ve never even sat at the bar before. I never lived solely just for myself. I never done alot of the normal things a regular early women in her 20’s would have experienced. I sacrificed alot for him and it all was for nothing. I’m so hurt and angry. It’s been 3 weeks no contact. But just yesterday a friend of mine sent me a video of him spotted with his best friends blowing money (that he owes me) at a strip club. I’m trying to just let go and let God but I’m so angry. I robbed myself out of so much young experiences I should’ve had by now.
How do I force myself to Unlove someone I genuinely cared about so much?
TL;DR: Asked Fiancé of 6 year for Flowers and a Love letter . Got denied. Told me he’s not emotionally “there yet” to get me flowers… but was able to purpose to me??

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Memory Transcript: Kinet, Venlil Surveyor Captain [Standardized Human Time July 5th, 2114]:
We had arrived in-system [four days] ago, and while I was expecting to see a world ravaged by nuclear exchange, the damage to the planet was beyond what I could have ever imagined. The surface was scorched, and the air filled with ash and soot from massive continent spanning fires that must have been burning for cycles. Despite all the destruction, our scans showed some signs of life trying to take hold on the surface, but not nearly as much as there should have been.
The humans had wiped themselves out over [150 years ] in the past; it shouldn’t look like it only happened only a herd of claws ago.
Fiir was of no use. When the first glimpses of the planet came in on the viewscreen, the scruffy researcher just stared with his jaw hanging loose before stammering about something being wrong. He stormed off to his quarters, and I haven’t seen him since then.
I sighed and walked onto the bridge with my waking claw cup of tea but was immediately assaulted by the chittering of an excited sivkit, our primary communications officer.
“Captain, captain, captain!”
“Hephy, yes, I’m right here. What is it?” I looked down towards her. She barely came up to my waist in her typical quadrupedal stance, and even doing her best to stand up, she wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye. Despite her stature, her excitement demanded attention as her eyes flicked between myself and whatever data she had scrolling across her display visor.
“Right Right. Anyway, Captain, I have to show you something, it’s big.” Most people don’t pay sivkits much mind, but Hephy was a prodigy. The excitable woman could look at a waterfall plot and pick out every signal present, and even read some of them without any computer assistance. I motioned for her to follow me to the ready room and started off toward it while sipping my tea. She trotted behind me on all fours, as sivkits are wont to do, and when I sat in my chair, she hopped side to side in excitement. “The signals, when we arrived from the jump, I saw something fascinating!” “Hephy, stop bouncing and sit.” I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. She looked at me for a moment as if I had grown a set of ears at the end of my snout. After a moment, her trance broke, and she hopped into the chair. She sat on her haunches and pulled out her tablet.
“Ok so, when we jumped in, we got a ping of the area, right? Send a signal out, listen for the reply, and we see what’s out there that our eyes can’t. Standard stuff, sure, but look.” She tapped at her tablet and expanded a multidimensional spectrum plot. “The bright spots are reports, and it’s all around. Debris right? That’s what I thought but look closer!” I leaned in and looked at the impressionistic splotches of color shown on the holographic display. The blues, yellows, and oranges spattered amongst the dark gray and black of night and other known objects was appealing to the eye, but ultimately gave me little idea what Hephy was trying to communicate with me. She must have picked up on my lack of insight, because she sighed and tapped the display again. “Normally, you see the pulse pattern return and that’s pretty distinct, but this is different. Odd. I thought it was just micro-debris but if you spread it out over time there’s a pattern to it, a structure in the phase relationships that doesn’t match reflections or our interrogation pulses.” “Hephy, you know I rarely ever understand you at this level.” “Right sorry right. Captain, this isn’t the return pulse, they’re data transmissions. Multiple data transmissions all at once.”
My ears perked up, and I tilted my head to the side a bit. “How can you be sure? What would even be out there to send them?”
“I wasn’t sure myself until I looked later on in the data buffers. Almost a claw later there was another longer burst. The automated systems ignored it due to interpreting it as just more micro-debris, but it had that structure-but-not-structure, perfectly shaped noise. I also had nav and sensors run another few active pings at different frequencies, trying to rule out silly patterns seeking brain nonsense. Nothing returned. The debris cloud doesn’t exist!”
“So what does this mean for us?”
“I don’t know, but it's fascinating! They must be satellites of some kind, either too small to reflect much or made to absorb radio waves.”
“That’s worrisome. There’s only one reason you’d build something like that.”
“Weaponry?” She chirped with surprising insight I had not expected to come from her. She had never been in the space force like I, and many others, had.
“Defense platforms, yes.” I took a sip of my rapidly cooling tea to try and soothe the anxious pit growing in my stomach.
“That’s…concerning.” Her excitement waned for a moment but quickly slipped back.
“Very, thank you for bringing this to my attention, Hephy.”
“As if I could keep quiet about something like this!” She snorted with a chittering laugh. “Oh! Wait there’s one more thing. There was another signal in a higher band that sounded off around the same time as the other burst, this time from a different orbit, way further out. I traced it to an artificial satellite.”
Suddenly, a thought hit me. These things were actively communicating with something. Was there something still left on the surface?
“Hephy, do you know where those signals were going?”
“Normally the antenna is too directional for anyone but the recipient to see it or it’s hard to get a read on directionality, but I know where everything is communicating to. The middle of the smaller main ocean.”
“Hephy, that’s an incredibly important bit of information!”
“It is? Oh yeah right, that makes sense!” She wiggles her tail in an amused flicking motion.
I stood up and patted her on the shoulder. “Get us close to that artificial satellite and see what it is. I’d like to get a better idea of what we’ve just stumbled into. Report back when you have some answers and we will go from there.”
Hephy bobbed her ears and hopped off the seat. “On it, sir. Where are you going?” “I’m going to talk to Fiir. This is beyond the original mission, and he needs to know.” “Ay captain. Good luck. Guy’s a weirdo.” I simply grunted and strolled down to the auxiliary quarters where I knew the researcher to be.
>Advance record: [10 Minutes]:
Fiir had brought an entire team of researchers with him. I was told they’re all colleagues of his from the research academy that are interested in this personal project of his. This many people on board with his project did explain how he was able to offer the exorbitant sum of credits to hire me and my crew. They had been allocated a section of the ship near the front, just past the shuttle bay and under the bridge area. This let them have their privacy and set up whatever gear they brought with them.
It also meant that there was a door between them and the rest of the ship. A door that they did not hesitate to keep closed after pre-launch inspections had concluded. The researchers didn’t have anything I didn’t expect from the manifest, but I still found it rather suspicious. Were they hiding something? Perhaps it had to do with that odd power hungry computer they insisted upon. Mara had her ears tied in a knot trying to accommodate it, and still they were coy about why exactly they needed it. It didn’t do me any good to speculate, though. What mattered most was the problem of the satellites.
I finally reached the door and, being the polite man I am, I scratched at the sounding plate before grabbing the handle and trying to open it. To my surprise, it didn’t budge. I could understand locking doors to the personal quarters, but this was a main corridor in my own ship! Just as I reached over to key in the unlock code, the door made a thunk as the latch disengaged and slid open part of the way. A familiar gray fringed brown muzzle stuck out from the gap. “This is a restrict- Oh. Captain.” Fiir opened the door a little more and stood up facing me. “What is it?”
I blinked at his rather blunt question. “I just came to inform you that we’ve discovered some worrying details about the nature of the-” “The artificial satellites are not of any concern to us.” He cut me off before I could finish.
“We think they might be-”
He glanced back behind the door for a moment, his tail thrashed in agitation. “It doesn’t matter. Have you prepared the landing party yet?” My jaw tightened as my frustration with his rudeness grew. I couldn’t get much of a word in, but I needed any answers. “They’re set to depart in two claws, but with those unknown satellites, I can’t be sure of their safety! I saw you on the bridge when we arrived, you were expecting something different. As the captain of this ship, I need to know if there’s a threat to-”
“Captain.” Fiir’s gaze grew intense as he leaned in. I may have had almost a head of height on the wizened farsul, but in that moment, he felt as if he was towering over me. “I suggest you stick to the responsibilities I hired you for, Captain Kinet. There are things that you are not privy to, nor will you be made privy to in the foreseeable future. Continue with the survey as per our agreement, and you’ll get your credits. Do not bother me until the away team is en route. Good paw, Captain.” He closed and locked the door without even waiting for my response.
I just stood at the door for a long while, a feeling of anger and indignation boiling in my chest. I had only ever had cordial contact with the researcher up until now; this abrupt shift in his demeanor was unsettling, to say the least. How dare he talk down to me like that on my own ship! I sighed and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. Slow and controlled. Letting the tension and anger flow out with my breath.
Inhale. Hold. Release.
Inhale. Hold. Release.
After a few cycles, the burning anger was reduced to a smoldering cinder. As much as I had wanted to headbutt Fiir, it wasn’t worth risking the contract for. I turned and walked back to the bridge to prepare for the away mission. Without Fiir’s info, I needed to make sure contingencies were in place for any possible threat to the away team. The lives of my crew are paramount, even if the contract was very, very lucrative. All that aside, the planning would keep my mind away from thoughts of my rude client.
>Advance record: [Standardized Human Time July 6th, 2114]:
I woke up after my rest paw feeling groggy and unrested. The confrontation with Fiir kept playing in my mind all night, despite the claws of planning for the away mission. To say his standoffish behavior left knots in my wool would be an understatement. I wiped my snout with my paws, flicking the crust from my eyes before getting up out of bed.
I grabbed my favorite mug and fixed myself my morning cup of tea. Pulling the dried leaves and stems from the canister, I could feel my mouth water in anticipation. I had been told by many who possessed the strange appendage called a nose that the tea leaves had a strong earthy and floral scent. I often wondered what that meant. Venlil didn’t have noses, but we did have a sense of taste, which is apparently quite similar. I often wondered what it might be like to smell. Do we really miss out on so much without being able to smell?
We had to soak our foods and tea in water before we could taste it with our tongues, and even then, it’s not nearly as sensitive, which is probably why other species consider venlil cuisine to be overseasoned and overpowering.
Another reason why the stereotype of venlil being weak is nonsense, in my opinion. How strong can you be if you can’t handle a little spice?
The timer went off, chirping to tell me my tea was ready. I sifted out the leaves and brought the invigorating elixir to my lips. The hot fluid warmed me to my core and burned away the waking lyasi silk from my groggy mind.
I needed to catch up with Hephy and Mara; they should have brought in that satellite-
My thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of my pad. I picked it up and answered the call to see Hephy’s face almost filling the screen, with Mara looking over her shoulder.
“Oh good you’re awake! Captain, you must see this! It’s amazing! The satellite, it’s full of brains!”
END TRANSCRIPTION
Been a hot minute, I hadn't forgotten about this. As always, comments are coveted and appreciated. What do you all think about Fiir's behavior? What do y'all think of Hephy?
Thanks to for creating this setting and fostering such a delightfully passionate community! Thanks again to , Novalux, and the Foxmates for editing and helping me get this done!
Soma belongs to Frictional Games.

PLAYBOY Interview With Conan O'Brien Interview by Kevin Cook For Playboy Magazine February 1998
A candid conversation with the preppie prince of "Late Night" about his rocky start, his show's secret one-day cancellation and how David Letterman saved the day.
He was polite. He was funny. He gave us a communicable disease.
At 34 Conan O'Brien is hotter than the fever he was running when we met in his private domain above the "Late Night" sound stage. A gangly freckle-faced ex-high school geek he is "one of TV's hottest properties" according to "People" magazine. The host of "Late Night With Conan O'Brien" has become his generation's king of comedy.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Congested too, but O'Brien has far more to worry about than his head cold. A perfectionist who broods over one bad minute in an otherwise perfect hour of TV, he worries he might be anhedonic, "I have trouble with success," he says, "I was raised to believe that if something good happens something bad is coming." Sure things look good now "Rolling Stone" calls "Late Night" "the hottest comedy show on TV." Ratings are better than ever, particularly among 18- to 34-year-olds, the viewers advertisers crave.
But O'Brien only works harder. Despite his illness he taped two shows in 26 hours on three hours' sleep. He smoothly interviewed Elton John then burst into coughing fits during commercials. Later in his crammed corner office overlooking Manhattan traffic Conan the Cool gulped Dayquil gel caps. He coughed spewing microbes.
"Sorry, sorry," he said. Of course O'Brien can't complain. He came seriously close to falling to being banished behind the scenes as just another failed talk show host.
At his first "Late Night" press conference he corrected a reporter who called him a relative unknown, "Sir I am a complete unknown," he said. That line got a laugh, but soon O'Brien looked doomed. His September 13, 1993 debut began with O'Brien in his dressing room preparing to hang himself only to be interrupted by the start of his show. Before long his career was hanging by a thread. Ratings were terrible. Critics hated the show. Tom Shales of "The Washington Post" called it as "lifeless and messy as roadkill." Shales said O'Brien should quit.
Network officials held urgent meetings discussing the Conan O'Brien debacle. Should they fire him? How should they explain their mistake?
In the end of course he turned it around. The network hung with him long enough for the ratings to improve and the host of the cooler-than-ever "Late Night" now defines comedy's cutting edge just as Letterman did ten years ago.
Even Shales loves "Late Night" these days. He calls O'Brien's turnaround "one of the most amazing transformations in television history."
O'Brien was born on April 18, 1963 in Brookline, Massachusetts. His father, a doctor, is a professor at Harvard Medical School. His mother, a lawyer, is a partner at an elite Boston Law firm. Conan, the third of six children became a lector at church and a misfit at school. Tall and goofy, bedeviled with acne, he tried to impress girls with jokes. That plan usually bombed, but O'Brien eventually found his niche at Harvard where he won the presidency of the "Harvard Lampoon" in 1983 and again in 1984 - the first two-time "Lampoon" president since humorist Robert Benchley held the honor 85 years ago.
After graduating magna cum laude with a double major in literature and American history he turned pro. Writing for HBO's "Not Necessarily The News." O'Brien was earning $100,000 a year before his 24th birthday. But writing was never enough.
He honed his performance skills with the Groundlings, a Los Angeles improv group. There he worked with his onetime girlfriend Lisa Kudrow, now starring on "Friends." But Conan was not such a standout. In 1988 he landed a job at "Saturday Night Live" - but as a writer, not as on-air talent. In almost four years on the show O'Brien made only fleeting appearances, usually as a crowd member or security guard. His writing was more memorable. He wrote (or co-wrote) Tom hanks' "Mr Short-Term Memory" skits as well as the "pump you up" infosatire of Hanz and Franz and the nude beach sketch in which Matthew Broderick and "SNL" members played nudists admiring one another's penises. With dozens of mentions of the word that hit was the most penis-heavy moment in TV history. It helped O'Brien win an Emmy for comedy writing.
In 1991 he quit "SNL" and moved on to "The Simpsons" where he worked for two years. His urge to perform came out in wall-bouncing antics in writers' meetings. "Conan makes you fall out of your chair" said "Simpsons" creator Matt Groening. O'Brien's yen to act out was so strong that he spurned Fox's reported seven-figure offer to continue as a writer. He was driving for the spotlight.
By then David Letterman had announced he was turning shin - leaving NBC taking his ton-rated act to CBS. Suddenly NBC was up a creek without a host. The network turned to Lorne Michaels, O'Brien's "Saturday Night Live" boss. Michaels enlisted Conan's help in the host search planning to use him in a behind-the-scenes job. But when Garry Shandling, Dana Carvey and almost every other star turned down the chore of following Letterman, Michaels finally listened to Conan's crazy suggestion, "Let me do it!" Michaels persuaded the network to entrust it's 12:30 slot which Letterman had turned into a gold mine to an untested wiseass from Harvard.
O'Brien was working on one of his last "Simpsons" episodes when he got the news. He turned "paler than usual," Groening recalled. The Conan moseyed back to where the other writers were working, "I'll come back with the Homer Simspon joke later. I have to go replace Letterman," he said.
NBC executives now get credit for their foresight during those dark days of 1993 and 1994. They snared the axe and now reap the multimillion-dollar spoils of that decision. In fact, the story is not so simple. We sent Contributing Editor Kevin Cook to unravel the tale of O'Brien's survival, which he tells here for the first time. Cook reports:
"His office is chock-full of significa. There's a three-foot plastic pickle the Letterman staff left behind in 1993 - perhaps to suggest what a predicament he was in. There's a copy of Jack Paar's 'I Kid You Not' and a coffee-table book called 'Saturday Night Live: The First 20 Years.' His bulletin board features letters from fans such as John Watters and Bob Dole and an 8" x 10" glossy of Andy Richter with the inscription: "To Conan - Your bitter jealousy warms my black heart. Love and Kisses Andy."
"Of course it's all for show. From the photos of kitch icons Adam West and Robert Stack to the framed Stan Laurel autograph, from the deathbed painting of Abraham Lincoln, to the ironic star taped to Conan's door - they're all clever signals that tell a visitor how to view the star. Lincoln was his collegiate preoccupation: stardom is his occupation. Somewhere between the two I hoped to find the real O'Brien.
"As a Playboy reader he wanted to give me a better-than-average interview. I wanted something more - a definitive look at the guy who may end up being the Johnny Carson of his generation."
"Here's hoping we succeeded. If not I carried his germs 3000 miles and infected dozens of Californians for no good reason.
O'Brien: Yes, this is how to do a Playboy Interview -- completely tanked on cold medicine. I'll pick it up and read, "Yes, I'm gay."
Playboy: We could talk another time. O'Brien: (coughing) No, it's OK. I memorized Dennis Rodman's answers. Can I use them?
Playboy: You sound really sick. Do you ever take a day off? O'Brien: No. The age of talk show hosts taking days off is over. Johnny Carson could go to Africa when he was the only game in town -- "See you in two weeks!" But nobody does that now. I will give you a million dollars on the first day Jay takes off for illness.
Playboy: Do you ever slow down and enjoy your success? O'Brien: If anything, the pace is picking up. Restaurateurs insist on giving me a table even if I'm only passing by, so I'm eating nine meals a night. Women stop me on the street and hand me their phone numbers.
Playboy: So you have groupies? O'Brien: Oh yes. And other fans. Drifters. Prisoners. Insomniacs. Cab Drivers, who must watch a lot of late night TV, seem to love me lately. They keep saying, "You will not pay, you will not pay, you make me happy!"
Playboy: How happy did your new contract make you? O'Brien: Terrified. The network said, "We're all set for five years." I said, "Shut up, shut up! I can't think that far ahead." Tonight, for instance, I do my jokes, then interview Elton John and Tim Meadows. We finished taping about 6:30. By 6:45 my memory was erased and my only thought was, Tomorrow: John Tesh. And I started to obsess about John Tesh. Sad, don't you think?
Playboy: Not too sad. You got off to a rocky start but now you're so hot that People magazine recently said, "that was then, this is wow." O'Brien: I try not to pay much attention. Since I ignored the critics who said I should shoot myself in the head with a German Luger, it would be cheating to tear out nice reviews now and rub them all over my body, giggling. Though I have thought about it.
Playboy: Tell us about your trademark gag. You interview a photo of Bill Clinton or some other celeb, and a pair of superimposed lips provide outrageous answers. O'Brien: We call it the Clutch Cargo bit, after that terrible old cartoon series. They saved money on animation by superimposing real lips on the cartoons. I wanted to do topical jokes in a cartoony way -- not just Conan doing quips at a desk. TV is visual; I want things to look funny. But we're not Saturday Night Live; we couldn't spend $100,000 on it. Hence, the cheap, cheesy lips, You'd be surprised how many people we fool.
Playboy: Viewers believe that's really the president yelling, "Yee-haw! Who's got a joint?" O'Brien: It's strange. You may know intellectually that Clinton doesn't talk like Foghorn Leghorn. Ninety-eight percent of your brain knows the president wouldn't say, "Whoa Conan get a load of that girl!" But there are a few brain cells that aren't sure. When Bob Dole was running for president we had him doing a past-life regression: "My cave, get away." And then back further, "Must form flippers to crawl on to rocky soil," he says. There may be people out there who believe that Bob Dole was the first amphibian.
Playboy: Do you ever go too far? O'Brien: The fun is in going too far. It's a nice device because you get Bill Clinton to do the nastiest Bill Clinton jokes. We'll have Clinton making fart noises while I say "Sir! Please!"
Playboy: Are you enjoying your job now, with your new success? O'Brien: Well, there are surprises. I hate surprises. Like most comics, I'm a control freak. But I am learning that the show works best when things are out of control. Tonight I ask Elton John if he likes being neighbors with Joan Collins. He says he isn't neighbors with Joan Collins. He lives next door to Tina Turner. So I panic -- huge mistake! But Elton saves the day. "Joan Collins, Tina Turner, it doesn't matter. Either way I could borrow a wig," he says. Huge laugh, all because I fucked up. Later he surprised me by blurting out that he's hung like a horse. The camera cuts to me shaking my head: That crazy Elton. What can I do? Of course, I'm delighted that he went too far.
Playboy: That "What can I do?" look resembles a classic take of Jack Benny's. O'Brien: There's an old saying in literature: "Good poets borrow; great poets steal." I think T.S. Eliot stole it from Ezra Pound. Comics steal, too. Constantly. When I watched Johnny Carson, I noticed that he got a few takes from Benny and Bob Hope. When a comedy writer told me how much Woody Allen had borrowed from Hope, I thought, What? They're nothing alike. Then I went back and watched Son of Paleface, and there's Hope, the nervous city guy backing up on his heels, wringing his hands and saying, "Sorry, I'll just be moving along." Now look at early Woody Allen. You see big authority figures and Woody nervously saying, "Look, I'll just be on my way." Of course Woody made it his own, but he must have watched and loved Bob Hope.
Playboy: Who are your role models? O'Brien: Carson. Woody Allen. SCTV. Peter Sellers. When Peter Sellers died I felt such a loss, thinking, There won't be anymore of that. There's some Steve Martin in my false bravado with female guests: "Why, hel-lo there!" And I won't deny having some Letterman in my bones.
Playboy: You were surprise as Letterman's successor. At first you seemed like the wrong choice. O'Brien: I didn't get ratings. That doesn't mean I didn't get laughs. Yes, I had a giant pompadour and I looked like a rockabilly freak. I was too excited, pushed too hard, and people said, "That guy isn't a polished performer." Fine! But it isn't my goal to be Joe Handsomehead cool, smooth talk show host. Late Night with Conan O'Brien is supposed to be a work in progress, and now that we've had some success there's a danger of our getting too polished and morphing into something smoothly professional. Which would suck.
Do you know why I wanted this show? Because Late Night with David Letterman played with the rules and it looked like fun. Here was a place where people did risky comedy every night for millions of people. We had to keep this thing alive. There should be a place on a big network where people are still messing around.
Playboy: How bad were your early days on the show? O'Brien: Bad. Dave left here under a cloud: his fans and the media were angry with NBC. Then NBC picks a guy with crazy hair and a weird name. And the world says, "Harvard? Those guys are assholes." I sincerely hope that the winter of December 1993, our first winter, was the worst time I will ever have. I'd go out to do the warm up and the back two rows of seats would be empty. That's hard to look at. I would tell a joke and then hear someone whisper, "Who's he? Where's Dave?"
Playboy: You had trouble getting guests. O'Brien: Bob Denver canceled on us. We shot a test show with Al Lewis of The Munsters. We did the clutch cargo thing with a photo of Herman Munster. Unfortunately, Fred Gwynne, who played Herman, had recently died, and Al Lewis kept pointing at the screen, saying, "You're dead! I was at your funeral!"
Playboy: For months you got worried notes from network executives. What did they say? O'Brien: They were worried. The fact that Lorne Michaels was involved bought me some time. But Lorne had turned to me at the start and said, "OK, Conan. What do you want to do?" Now television critics were after me and the network was starting to realize what a risk I was. Suggestions came fast and furious. I kept the note that said, "Why don't you just die?"
Playboy: Did they suggest ways to be funnier? O'Brien: They were more specific and tactical. The network gets very specific data. Say there was a drop in ratings between 12:44 and 12:48 when I was talking to Jon Bon Jovi. I'll be told, "Don't ever talk to him again" Or they'll want me to tease viewers into staying with us: "You should tease that -- say, 'We'll have nudity coming up next!'"
Playboy: You did come close to being cancelled. O'Brien: We were cancelled.
Playboy: Really? You have never admitted that. O'Brien: This is the first time I've talked about it. When I had been on for about a year, there was a meeting at the network. They decided to cancel my show. They said, "It's cancelled." Next day they realized they had nothing to put in the 12:30 slot, so we got a reprieve.
Playboy: Were you worried sick? O'Brien: I went into denial. I tried hard not to think, Yes, I'm bad on the air and my show has none of the things a TV show needs to survive. We had no ratings. No critics in our corner. Advertisers didn't like us. Affiliates wanted to drop us. Sometimes I'd meet a programming director from a local station where we had no rating at all. The guy would show me a printout with no number for Late Night's rating, just a hash mark or pound sign. I didn't dare think about that when I went out to do the show.
Playboy: Are you defending denial? O'Brien: How else does anyone get through a terrible experience? The odds were against me. Rationally, I didn't have much chance. Denial was my only friend. When I look back on the first year, it's like a scene from an old war movie: Ordinary guy gets thrown into combat, somehow beats impossible odds, staggers to safety. His buddy say, "You could have been killed!" The guy stops and thinks. "Could have been killed?" he says. His eyes cross and he faints.
Playboy: How did you dodge the bullet? O'Brien: There were people at NBC who stood up for me. I will always be indebted to Don Ohlmeyer, who stuck to his guns. Don said, "We chose this guy. We should stick with him unless we get a better plan." He was brutally honest. He came to me and said, "Give me about a 15 percent bump in the ratings and you'll stay on the air. If not, we're going to move on."
Playboy: Ohlmeyer started his career in the sports division. O'Brien: Exactly, his take was, "You're on our team." Of course, it wasn't exactly rational of Don to hope I'd be 15 percent funnier. It was like telling a farmer, "It better rain this week or we'll take your farm away."
Playboy: What did you say to Ohlmeyer? O'Brien: There wasn't time. I had to go out and do a monologue. But I will always be indebted to Don because he told me the truth. Wait a minute -- you have tricked me into talking lovingly about an NBC executive. Let me say that there were others who were beneath contempt -- executives who wouldn't know a good show if it swam up their asses and lit a campfire.
Playboy: Finally the ratings went your way. Hard work rewarded? O'Brien: Well, I also paid off the Nielsen people. That was $140,000 well spent.
Playboy: Ohlmeyer plus bribery saved you? O'Brien: There was something else. Just when everyone was kicking the crap out of the show, Letterman defended me.
Playboy: Letterman had signed off on NBC saying, "I don't really know Conan O'Brien, but I heard he killed someone." O'Brien: Then I pick up the paper and he's saying he thinks I am going to make it. "They do some interesting, innovative stuff over there," he says. "I think Conan will prevail." And then he came on as a guest. Remember, this was when we were at our nadir. There was no Machiavellian reason for David Letterman, who at the time was the biggest thing in show business, to be on my show.
Playboy: Why did he do it? O'Brien: I'm still not sure. Maybe out of a sense of honor. Fair play. And it woke me up. It made me think. Hey, we have a real fucking television show here.
Of six or seven pivotal points in my short history here, that was the first and maybe the biggest. I wouldn't be sitting here -- I probably wouldn't even exist today -- if he hadn't done our show.
Playboy: The Late Night wars were hardly noted for friendly gestures. O'Brien: How little you understand. Jay, Dave and I pal around all the time. We often ride a bicycle built for three up to the country. "Nice job with Fran Drescher!" "Thanks, pal. You weren't so bad with John Tesh." We sleep in triple-decker bunk beds and snore in unison like the Three Stooges.
Playboy: You talk more about Letterman than your NBC teammate Leno. O'Brien: I hate the "Leno or Letterman, who's better?" question. I can tell you that Jay has been great to me. He calls me occasionally.
Playboy: To say what? O'Brien: (Doing Leno's voice) "Hey, liked that bit you did last night." Or he'll say he saw we got a good rating. I call him at work, too. It can be a strange conversation because we're so different. Jay, for instance, really loves cars. He's got antique cars with kerosene lanterns, cars that run on peat moss. He'll be telling me about some classic car he has, made entirely of brass and leather, and I'll say, "Yeah, man, I got the Taurus with the vinyl." One thing we have in common is bad guests. There are certain actors, celebrities with nothing to say, who move through the talk show world wreaking havoc. They lay waste to Dave's town and Jay's town, then head my way.
Playboy: You must be getting some good guests. Your ratings have shown a marked improvement. O'Brien: Remember, when you're on at 12:30 the Nielsens are based on 80 people. My ratings drop if one person has a head cold and goes to bed early.
Playboy: Actually, you're seen by about 3 million people a night. Your ratings would be even higher if college dorms weren't excluded from the Nielsens. How many points does that cost you? O'Brien: I told you I'm an idiot. Now I have to do math too?
Playboy: Do you still get suggestions from NBC executives? O'Brien: Not as many. The number of notes you get is inversely proportional to your ratings.
Playboy: What keeps you motivated? O'Brien: Superstition. We have a stagehand, Bobby Bowman, who holds up the curtain when I run out for the monologue. He is the last person I see before the show starts, and I have to make him laugh before I go out. It started with mild jabs: "Bobby, you're drunk again." Bobby laughs, "Heehee."" Then it was, "Still having trouble with the wife, Bobby?" But after hundreds of shows, you find yourself running out of lines. It's gotten to where I do crass things at the last second. I'll put his hand on my ass and yell, "You fucking pervert!" Or drop to my knees and say, "Come on, Bobby, I'll give you a blow job!"
"Ha-ha. Conan, you're crazy," he says. But even that stuff wears off. Soon, I'll be making the writers work late to give me new jokes for Bobby.
Playboy: Did you plan to be a talk show host or did you fall into the job? O'Brien: I was an Irish Catholic kid from St. Ignatius parish in Brookline, outside of Boston. And that meant: Don't call attention to yourself. Don't ask for too much when the pie comes around. Don't get a girl pregnant and fuck up your life.
Playboy: Were you an alter boy? O'Brien: I wanted to be an alter boy, but the priest at St. Ignatius said, "No, no. You're good on your feet, kid," and made me a lector. A scripture reader at Mass. He was the one who spotted my talent.
Playboy: What did you think of sex in those days? O'Brien: I was sexually repressed. At 16 I still thought human reproduction was by mitosis.
Playboy: How did you get over your sexual repression? O'Brien: Who says I got over it? My leg has been jiggling this whole time.
Playboy: What were you like in high school? O'Brien: Like a crane galumphing down the hall. A crane with weird hair, bad skin and Clearasil. Big enough for basketball but lousy at it. My older brothers were better. I would compensate by running around the court doing comedy, saying, "Look out, this player has a drug addiction. He's incredibly egotistical."
I was an asshole at home, too. My little brother Justin loved playing cops and robbers, but I kept tying him up with bureaucratic bullshit. When he'd catch me, I'd say, "I get to call my lawyer." Then it was, "OK, Justin, we're at trial and you've been charged with illegal arrest. Fill out these forms in triplicate." Justin was eight; he hated all the lawsuits and countersuits. He just cried.
Playboy: Were you a class clown? O'Brien: Never. I was never someone who walked into a room full of strangers and started telling jokes. You had to get to know me before I could make you laugh. The same thing happened with Late Night. I needed to get the right rhythm with Andy and Max and the audience.
Playboy: So how did you finally learn about sex? O'Brien: My parents gave me a book, but it was useless. At the crucial moment, all it showed was a man and a woman with the bed covers pulled up to their chins. I tried to find out more from friends, but it didn't help. One childhood friend told me it was like parking a car in a garage. I kept worrying about poisonous fumes. What if the fumes build up? Should you shut off the engine?
Playboy: For all your talk about being repressed, you can be rowdy on the air. O'Brien: The show is my escape valve. When I tear off my shirt and gyrate my pelvis like Robert Plant, feigning orgasm into the microphone, that shows how repressed I am -- a guy who wants to push his sex at the lens but can only do it as a joke.
Playboy: Aren't you tempted to live it up? O'Brien: I always imagined that if I were a TV star I would live the way I pictured Johnny Carson living. Carousing, stepping out of a limo wearing a velvet ascot with a model on my arm. Now that I have the TV show, I drive up to Connecticut on the weekends and tool around in my car. I could probably join a free-sex cult, smoke crack between orgies and drive sports cars into swimming pools, and my Catholic guilt would still be there, throbbing like a toothache. Be careful. If something good happens, something bad is on the way.
Playboy: Yet you don't mind licking the supermodels. O'Brien: At one point a few of them lived in my building, women who are so beautiful they almost look weird, like aliens. To me, a woman who has a certain approachable amount of beauty becomes almost funny. It's the same with male supermodels. They look like big puppets. So while I admire their beauty I probably won't be "romantically linked" with a model. I'd catch my reflection in a ballroom mirror and break up laughing.
Playboy: The horny Roy Orbison growl you use on gorgeous guests sounds real enough -- O'Brien: Oh, I've been doing that shit since high school. It just never worked before.
Playboy: Your father is a doctor, your mother an attorney. What do they think of their son the comedian? O'Brien: My dad was the one who told me denial was a virtue. "Denial is how people get through horrible things," he said. He also cut out a newspaper article in which I said I was making money off something for which I should probably be treated. So true, he thought. But when I got an Emmy for helping write Saturday Night Live, my parents put it on the mantel next to the crucifix. Here's Jesus looking over, saying, "Wow, I saved mankind from sin, but I wish I had an Emmy."
Playboy: Ever been in therapy? O'Brien: Yes. I don't trust it. I have told therapists that I don't particularly want to feel good. "Repression and fear, that's my fuel." But the therapists said that I had nothing to worry about. "Don't worry Conan you will always be plenty fucked up."
Playboy: When a female guest comes out, how do you know whether to shake her hand or kiss her? Is that rehearsed O'Brien: No, and it's awkward. If you go to shake her hand and her head starts coming right at you, you have to change strategy fast. I have thought about using the show to make women kiss me, but that would probably creep out the people at home. I decided not to kiss Elton John.
Playboy: Do you get all fired up if Cindy Crawford or Rebecca Romijn does the show? O'Brien: I like making women laugh. Always have, ever since I discovered you can get girls' attention by acting like an ass. That's one of the joys of the show -- I'm working my eyebrows and going grrr and she's laughing, the audience is laughing. It's all a big put-on and I'm thinking. This is great. Here is a beautiful woman who has no choice but to put up with this shit.
But it's not always put on. Sometimes they flirt back. Sometimes there's a bit of chemistry. That happened with Jennifer Connelly of The Rocketeer.
Playboy: One guest, Jill Hennessy, took off her pants for you. Then you removed yours. Even Penn and Teller took off their pants. O'Brien: Something comes over me. It happened with Rebecca Romijn -- I was practically climbing her. Those are the times when Andy and the audience seem to disappear and it's just me and this lovely woman sitting there flirting. I keep expecting a waiter to say, "More wine, Monsieur?"
Playboy: Would you lick the wine bottle? O'Brien: It's true, there's a lot of licking on the show. I have licked guests. I have licked Andy. Comedy professionals will read this and say, "Great work, Conan. Impressive." But I have learned that if you lick a guest, people laugh. If I pick this shoe off the floor, examine it, Hmmm, and then lick it, people laugh. I learned this lesson on The Simpsons, where I was the writer who was forever trying to entertain the other writers. I still try desperately to make our writers laugh, which is probably a sign of sickness since they work for me now. Licking is one of those things that look funny.
Playboy: Johnny Carson never licked Ed McMahon. O'Brien: We are much more physical and more stupid than the old Tonight Show. Even in our offices before the show there's always some writer acting out a scene crashing his head through my door. A behind-the-scenes look at our show might frighten people.
Playboy: One night you showed a doctored photo of Craig T. Nelson having sex with Jerry Van Dyke. Did they complain about it? O'Brien: I haven't heard from them. Of course I'm blessed not to be a part of the celebrity pond. I have a television show in New York, an NBC outpost. I don't run with or even run into many Hollywood people.
Playboy: You also announced that Tori Spelling has a penis. O'Brien: I did not. Polly the Peacock said that.
Playboy: Another character you use to say the outrageous stuff. O'Brien: Polly is not popular with the network.
Playboy: You mock Fabio, too. O'Brien: If he sues me, it'll be the best thing that ever happened. A publicity bonanza: Courtroom sketches of Fabio with his man-boobs quivering, shaking his fist, and me shouting at him across the courtroom. I'm not afraid of Fabio. He knows where to find me. I'm saying it right here for the record: Fabio, let's get it on.
Playboy: Ever have a run-in with an angry celeb? O'Brien: I did a Kelsey Grammar joke a few years ago, something about his interesting lifestyle, then heard through the network that he was upset. He had appeared on my show and expected some support. At this point my intellect says, "Kelsey Grammar is a public figure. I was in the right." Then I saw him in an airport. Kelsey didn't see me at first: I could have kept walking. But there he was, eating a cruller in the airport lounge. I thought I should go over. I said hello and then said, "Kelsey, I'm sorry if I upset you." And he was glad. He looked relieved. He said, "Oh, that's OK." We both felt better.
....See my other post with the last third of the interview

I can see the half of a bullish W forming and this thing hitting $0.89 again tomorrow. If it bounces off (as it should considering the army that’s been amassed here lol) it’ll take off back to the $1.20 resistance. This is a crucial pivot point. If we are to see this go to the stratosphere, it must break that $1.20 barrier. Not just to $1.22 or $1.25
We need to retest $1.30 and then $1.40 and once again $1.50 These are key points of resistance. Our support is stroooonnnggg but hedge funds have a lot of money. They can’t buy shares if we don’t sell them. I understand being safe and placing stop losses and taking profits. It’s fair and it’s honestly the smartest way to trade stocks. However, if you take profits, why not buy back in when it goes on a discount so the next time it gets to that $1.20 or $1.50 or whatever you sold for profit, you get even more money so you’re not shitting your pants when your initial investment starts dwindling. Play their game and beat them at it with their own money lol that’s what they’re doing in the opposite direction with paper hands people. Remember, you only lose money if you sell. Never EVER risk anything more than you’re willing to lose.
If you’re losing sleep over this shit then you have too much invested and honestly should, for your own mental health, back off a little and take some profits or at least break even when you can and get back in when it’s discounted.
This is entirely my own thoughts not financial advise blah blah blah your money use it when and how you need it. These are just things I’ve learned from investing over the years. It’s not gonna go to fkin 0 overnight unless some catastrophic shit happens and then we’ve probably got other things to worry about than our portfolio. Relaaaxxx and take a breath. Zoom out and look at how far we’ve come so far. I like this stock and the company itself is effectively trying to make the Bentley of EVs and I think it’s sick as hell. I want them to succeed and that’s why I invested more myself. That car has soooooo much potential man. Have a good night and I love you all. Fck the haters, just block people saying negative things honestly.
Think for yourself and enjoy your own life. Don’t argue with people that you can block and never have to worry about for the rest of your life lol alright ima go play some video games. Peace nerds!

Excuse my bad english, i used AI to translate some parts, im not a native speaker. So, here goes the story of how Jehovah's Witnesses almost drove me to suicide, how my grandmother disowned me, and why I am now 1,327 kilometers away from my family, haha.
I was born into a three-generation JW family in Cancún, Mexico. I never had birthdays, Halloween, or any of the world's holidays. From ages 0 to 3, my nuclear family was distant from the JWs. I learned to read and began reading Watchtower literature. I never liked the idea that Jehovah was going to commit genocide on 99% of the world's population and that we would be happy in paradise with exile, resurrection, and more. At age 4, they resumed their service to the organization and tried to raise me solely with Watchtower literature. Everything else was practically forbidden, although I loved watching documentaries and reading about nature. I became a fan of some school books. I was never allowed to have a single friend, and at school, I was forced to have perfect grades, or else my parents would beat me, and this continued until I was 8 years old.
When I was 8, my father quit his job because a coworker started sexually harassing him. From that moment on, life in my family went downhill. I discovered I was gay, and every "teaching" started to irritate me more and more. My father tried to dedicate himself more to the organization's service, so it took him almost a year to find a job that allowed him to do so. At the beginning of this period, I was sent to my grandmother's house for her to take care of me for 3 months. The hell of the Catholics sounded more appealing than being there. I stopped going to school, and every day began with waking up at 5:45 am, considering the day's text for an hour, then breakfast, preaching from 7:30 am to 3:00 pm under 30-degree heat, a break for a meager meal, and then continuing with studies from 4:00 pm to 8:00 pm. Upon returning home, we would study the ministry school or the Watchtower until 10:00 pm, every day. Sundays, we had our meeting at 9:00 am, and we still went out to preach in the morning from 6:30 to 8:30.
I remember during that time I lost weight, going from being overweight to the lower limit of a healthy weight, even developing anemia. I suffered from heat strokes, dehydration, and other issues. The worst part was the Saturday Watchtower study. My grandmother wouldn't schedule studies that day so we could study the Watchtower. We started at 3 in the afternoon and continued until nearly 10 at night or even later, reading every biblical passage, every reference in the central column. We didn't have dinner until we finished studying. If I yawned, she would pinch me, and one day she tried to slap me. Adding to this was her favoritism towards other more "spiritual" cousins and her constant reminders that I would die for not having blind faith in God. Those were 3 months of my life. After that, I returned home and resumed my studies.
That year, we ended up living off poor government aid, and I made my first friend in primary school. Her mother was the sweetest woman I had ever known. She gave me desserts, fed me when we had no money, something the brothers NEVER did for my family. Here begins the next chapter of my family.
My father got a job in Cancun's public transportation but quit because he had to break many laws in a highly competitive and illegal environment. Desperate, my father accepted the lowest job offer from one of his JW brothers, working from 8 am to 6:30 pm, with no overtime pay, for $25 a week to support a family of five. Meanwhile, the indoctrination continued, torturing me with the idea that I would be destroyed at Armageddon for being secretly homosexual and completely isolated from my schoolmates due to my beliefs and poverty, thanks to this religion and abusive brothers.
My father started taking me to work on weekends, some weekdays, and holidays. They didn't pay anything extra for me; I worked entirely for free. At school, I resented the lack of money. Sometimes I would pick up government notebooks that kids threw away. My uniform was falling apart.
I started secondary school, and this situation continued. I was switched from the afternoon shift to the morning shift because of bullying at school. During that time, I met my first real friend, a guy who always supported me. He was a fan of creepy pastas and the paranormal, someone who was absent once or twice a week but with whom I enjoyed spending time. We would lie on the classroom floor listening to scary stories. I developed romantic feelings for him but never had the chance to confess. One day, after school, he walked me to a street before my house, where my father was waiting for me. A brother had leaked what was happening. I had managed to get a cell phone, which my parents checked daily to see what I was doing. At 15, they forbade me from having any contact with him, so I ended the friendship and suppressed my feelings until we finished the last year of secondary school. He didn't attend the graduation day. That day, I was completely alone. My parents went with me, but no one approached me. In Mexico, there's a tradition of signing your friends' shirts. Mine had the signature of one teacher, and nothing more. None of my classmates recognized me as a friend that day.
Two months passed. I entered high school, and one day, while walking back from preaching with my mother, I met one of my former schoolmates. We had ended up fighting, but we respected each other. When he saw me, tears welled up in his eyes. I had never seen him like that. He approached me and told me that my first friend had died of cancer. I was in shock. I told him not to joke, and he asked if I ever wondered why he was absent so often and the school never said anything, why he grew his hair long until he started missing more and more. I remember that day I felt pain like never before. I felt like I was collapsing inside. I wanted to vomit and cry. I regretted for years having left him to die alone. I felt like a traitor. My parents didn't care, but I fell into a depression that took years to overcome. To distract my mind, I started preaching more and filling my mind with dogmas. But I knew, I knew I could never achieve eternal life as a homosexual, I knew I could never make my parents happy, I knew I shouldn't get baptized, or when I got disfellowshipped, my family would consider me dead.
I started a spiral of self-hatred that one day led to harmful thoughts. I began to think about using chemical castration to eliminate my impulses, about amputating my genitals to avoid sinning. I started to think that if I died, I would be resurrected.
During high school, everyone in the congregation who talked to me only pressured me to get baptized. But I knew that if I did, it would lead to an even worse situation. And the spiral began. With each assembly, these feelings grew stronger. They kept reminding me that I had to do it, that I had to go out into the world as a JW. And everyday, some homophobic things that make me more and more fragile.
At 18, my both parents ended up working to pay off debts. I started staying home, waking up at 2 pm, and sleeping up to 20 hours a day. They labeled me spiritually lazy. I was dying more each day, and no one cared. No one in the congregation was truly my friend.
Then one day, my sister sent me to a government program to get a job. A psychologist noticed my problems and interviewed me. I started a small treatment, where I slowly made friends and became more expressive. I didn't know how to speak properly with others even though I could give talks and preach. I was socially stagnant. All the young people in the congregation ostracized me for not being a blind believer, and on top of that, I was sarcastic, so I was the one left out. I was invited to a gathering only once, with the condition that I couldn't talk to anyone about anything. Time passed, and from that government program, I started working at an institution. I met my first angels, my female coworkers, five wonderful women who practically taught me how to speak again, who explained how to celebrate a birthday, how to socialize, how to talk properly with others.
During this time, with some expertise in hiding information from my family, I bought a phone I only used at work. Curiosity got the better of me, and I started visiting Telegram groups, where I met my former partner, someone who helped me finally leave the Jehovah's Witnesses. When the pandemic started, I was sent home. My family tried to use that phone, but it had a password. When they asked for it, I refused. For the first time in my life, I refused such an order. I started to distance myself little by little. I grew my hair long, started going out more, talking more with my ex, and so on. Gradually, I distanced myself. I didn't attend Zoom meetings, and I stopped preaching by letter. Then the presidential elections came, and I was forced to vote to keep my job, which was the only source of income for my family during the pandemic. I did it, went out to vote, which cost me my position as a publisher. I was more than happy. Some brothers called me, hat was the firstime in 4 years that they made a phone call. The quarantine ended, and I finally returned to my office with my coworkers.
Then my grandmother reappeared, trying to condition me to become a preacher again, and she tried to manipulate me. I flatly refused and left. Then something worse happened: she came to live with us, and every day it was the same argument, until one day, during a trip to the beach (Cancun, baby), she tried to corner me with an elder and a pioneer. I simply told them to move away. They refused and said I had to come back and cut my hair. I told my grandmother no, and that I didn't want to talk about it with anyone anymore, that it was my life and she should use the little time she had left. Later, I found out that she had removed me from her will over some land in the outskirts of Cancun. I don't regret.
Then my father noticed something and told me that if he discovered anything, he would kick me out of the house. He asked me if I was gay, to which I replied "maybe." He said that if I declared it, I would have to leave the house. At that time, I had already broken up with my ex, who had moved to the center of the country. I talked to him and his current partner, and they said it would be no problem, that they could take me in if something happened. I told my sister about my suicidal thoughts after she asked what had happened with my father. Then, my parents got me a psychologist, who started helping me progress and overcome some of the issues I had with my self-esteem. However, what I didn't know was that he was leaking EVERYTHING to my parents, and thus they confirmed my sexuality and found out about my relationship.
I endured that year and told my parents that I would leave home on my 23rd birthday. I took the UNAM exam, which I didn't pass 😅😅. I told them, and they dropped a bombshell: "we were hoping you would fail your exam so you wouldn't leave." That gave me the impetus to do it, to finalize my escape. With anger and nostalgia, a few days later, I took a flight to another city where my friends took me in. I think I can consider them more than friends, they are my family, i have one on cancun, that needs to leave that religion. Right now, I'm looking into starting treatment again, specifically for victims of coercive sects. I live much more freely, maybe not in a super city, but happily, without my family's eyes always watching me. I have never felt so free in my life.
To the Jehovah's Witnesses reading this, remember, we born and raised in cages, but it is not a disease to fly; it is the freedom of this world that awaits us. It will be more dangerous, but it will also be much more interesting. You will be able to suffer and enjoy, love and pain, the full life, not a life of only pain to die in loneliness, to die with a false hope. You can move forward, you can make it; there are many like us out here. It will hurt, but once you learn to fly, you won't even want to look back. My life only began at 24, I am just about to start studying at university. I didn't study because of that religion, but I know I will soon. These chains are not that strong; they are just too big to carry. Throw them off and come fly with us.
This is my history, my life, the start of my new life.
Thanks everybody, you rocks!

It always starts at 5:13 a.m. Lying in the half-light of my bedroom, I can hear heavy breathing, punctuated by deep breaths and growls that make my hair stand on end. It's there, right next to me. There’s motion. Sheets rustling, a mass rising from the bed. This time, for sure, I won't go back to sleep.
The noises continue into the next room. Familiar yet terrifying sounds, accompanied by weary sighs and muffled whispers. My nervousness increases. The wooden floor creaks and, lurking under my blankets, I pray for daybreak.
It's around 5:30 when the shower turns on. My blood immediately starts to race. I pray for it to stop, but invariably the ordeal lasts a quarter of an hour. Who are you to torture me like this? What's all this about? Why are you making these noises? I'm frozen, tetanized, I don't understand... The height of horror comes as soon as the water stops flowing. Almost immediately afterwards, I hear humming. The same eerie melody sung by a high-pitched voice. I wish I didn't have to listen, but I can't help it. I'd like to run away, but I have to stay alert. A lump forms in my throat, so much so that I have to contain my urge to vomit.
Finally, the bathroom door opens. I feel intense palpitations as my pulse continues to accelerate. Once again, the wooden slats squeak and I know it won't be much longer. It's almost over.
However, I know my respite will be short-lived, and this prospect keeps me from falling back into the arms of Morpheus. The moment the front door opens, I feel as if my body, then stretched like a rubber band stretched to the limit, is about to snap. I never lock the door at night, and I can assure you that hearing the handle turn before six o'clock gives me an intense cold sweat.
After such an experience, there's no way I can sleep, so I decide to get up. I take a few timid steps towards the bathroom, but change my mind. Hearing the creaking floorboards and the drops of water falling from the showerhead into the wet tray is beyond me. All this reminds me too much of the traumatic experience that preceded it, and which still punctuates my daily life. I'm going to put it off a little longer. Heading for the coffee machine, I'm relieved to see that it hasn't been activated this morning. Otherwise, the dread would be at its worst, but today I've been spared.
Although I've just got out of bed, I'm already exhausted. I collapse on the sofa, hot cup in hand. I sip the hot beverage slowly, careful not to make any noise. It could happen again... It will happen again: as I said, this morning's ordeal was just the first of many. I try to forget this harsh reality and allow myself a few more precious minutes of rest. This is absolutely necessary to face what lies ahead.
As I take my first step outside, I am reminded, as I am every day, that my ordeal has only just begun. There it is again, attacking me, clinging to me. It's nipping at my heels, infecting every pore of my skin. In public transport, on the street and then in my workplace, I can feel it following me and overpowering me. I don't know how I manage to put on a brave face, especially when an oblivious colleague says to me: "Say, you should see your face! What's this killer look you've got on your face?" before walking away, laughing stupidly. If he only knew...
For many, returning home is a relief. Home is often a bulwark against outside aggression. In my case, however, the nightmare continues.
At 7.06 p.m., I heard you turn the handle on the front door and come in coughing. Think of the sound of your heels clicking on the floor as torture. We discussed what we wanted to eat, then at 7.18 p.m., you rummaged in the drawer for a long time, looking for the right saucepan. Did you have to spend so much time on it? To make so much noise? Then you sat down on the sofa and started typing on your laptop, breathing so hard I could have strangled you. At 7.42pm, we sat down to dinner and you started chewing and swallowing with the delicacy of a troll breaking a two-day fast. I felt my hand tighten around the handle of my fork. How can someone as beautiful and refined as you stuff your face so noisily? At 8:12 p.m., you decided to have another shower. Why the hell do you keep torturing me? At least stop humming that stupid ditty! It's now 8.30 p.m. You've just come out of the bathroom and are changing in the bedroom. Just like this morning, I can hear the drops of water crashing to the bottom of the shower tray, making me feel like I'm about to explode.
My dear wife, I want you to know that I hate you more and more every day, from the moment you get up to go to work. Your morning alarm wakes me up and it bothers me. Not because I'm roused from sleep, but because of everything you do afterwards. All the strange, stupid things that make me hate you more and more every day. Don't take it personally, though: I hate them all. Our neighbors, friends, colleagues, not to mention all those anonymous people out there. They're so noisy they're despicable. If you knew the number of times I've felt like sawing your brakes, as you drive by with your polluting horrors. The accident would have been inevitable and the emergency services would have been helpless: I would have sabotaged their unbearable sirens, so they wouldn't have been able to arrive in time. You would then have died in excruciating agony.
You, my colleague sitting opposite me, yes, you who laughed stupidly while cutting and stapling I don't know what documents, if you only knew how much I wanted to take the scissors out of your hands. I'd have used them to slit you open and staple your guts raw. Then your unbearable sounds would have stopped and you would have died in excruciating pain.
You, the kid who was noisily chewing your Mentos at the bus stop, if you only knew how much I wished I'd had a bottle of Coke right then and there. I'd have forced the whole candy packet down your throat, then emptied a liter and a half of soda in your mouth. Just to get you over the urge to start emitting those sickening ruminations again. With any luck, your stomach would have exploded under the pressure of the gas, and you would have died in excruciating agony. It would have been such a firework display inside!
As for you, my beautiful wife, I want you to know that you unleashed one anger too many. You shouldn't have bitten your nails and the little skins around them. You know it's one of those things that saws my nerves, but you've never wanted to admit my hatred of sound and movement, minimizing the evil that never leaves me. Since you like it so much, I'll spare you the effort. This morning, I sharpened my knives. Usually, that repetitive noise is enough to fill me with hatred. Today, however, it soothed me, because as I listened to it, I thought about what I was going to do. Soon, you'll be skinned in your entirety like a farm rabbit, and then you'll die in excruciating agony. Don't imagine that I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart. Life for people suffering from misophonia is hell, and there are certain noises we can't stand. And believe me, there are so many of them that revolt me that I know they'll kill me in the end. That'll be a relief, because right now, I'm living... in excruciating agony.