Best gift for 16 year old boy

For those who are unaware, a Shadow of the Colossus film was announced just over 15 years ago now, back on April 7th 2009. It's changed staffing since then, with our last news being that it had changed directors from Josh Trank (Fantastic Four (2014), Chronicle) to Andy Muschietti (It, It Chapter 2, The Flash) in 2014. Unfortunately, we don't know how much, if any, work has been done for it.
The general feelings about video game adaptations are typically a lot more positive these days, following the success of other adaptations like the Super Mario and Sonic films. With these in mind, I thought it would be interesting to resurrect discussion about this film.
So, what would you want to see out of a plot, given slaying 16 colossi in a row probably doesn't make for the best viewing experience for a film? Live action or CG, or even Anime? Casting choices? Do you think they'd change much? Would you even want the film in this day and age?
If you're interested, there's a post from a couple of years ago here, which includes some previous discussion, as well as a 2010 script in NomadColossus' comment.

I've had a google pixel 7 for the last year and a half, I believe I bought it when they first released. I have noticed some bugs, but they've gotten worse in the last 1.5 months, I want to know if I'm alone in these. Not all of these are constant, but they happen often enough to mention. This is the imgur link for what I was able to take a screenshot of.

1. My home, back, and app carrousel buttons at the bottom on my screen disappear, I have to put my phone in sleep mode.
2. When going to the app carousel, my phone will show my home screen background instead of the app (shown in Imgur link)
3. When opening my SMS texts app (that came with the phone) from the chat head, the chat heads will move to the top of the screen like the messages are open, but the message will still populate from the side as though the chat head is still closed (shown in Imgur link)
4. Another problem with chat heads, Sometimes, when opening them, my phone will go to sleep on its own, and then repopulate all of my notifications from all apps over the last hour or so, and then all text message notifications as far as 8 hours beforehand. These are all notifications that I've either swiped away or have replied to already, so I am being notified of old messages.
5. While using google maps, if I leave the app to change the song in Spotify or respond to a text, the app is essentially dead. The little overlay of the map stays in the top corner, but it does not register when I tap it. The notification of the maps stays as well, again, cannot tap it. I can't tap the app to open it, it doesn't even register that it's being clicked. Sometimes I can force stop the Google Maps app from settings, but other times I have to do a hard reset on my phone.
6. Most recently yesterday, I sent 2 SMS text back to back, and I mean really back to back, there couldn't have been 5 seconds between the 1st and 2nd text, but the 1st one delivered, and before the second one could, my phone told me that I did not have a SIM card in and I could not get data. When I went to settings, it registered my SIM card, acknowledged that I had one, but did not give me any data. I did a hard reset and asked the other people on my phone plan if they had the same problem, they did not. So I don't think it was my carrier. This has only happened once
7. I opened my camera app to take a picture, and the entire phone started lagging, not only was the camera late, but tapping on the screen was incredibly far behind. Leaving the camera app and putting the phone to sleep fixed this. This has also only happened once.

I think there have been more, but these are consistent and significant. I originally thought it was a virus, but I downloaded Avast virus protection, paid for the premium, and had it scan my phone, it found nothing. This started around the time I got back from vacation at the end of March. I was out of the country for 2 weeks and was probably not the best to my phone. I can think of 2 times I dropped it from less than 6 ft. But I don't think that would cause this many issues! I used to have a Samsung, and I would beat that thing up and it would still work perfectly fine until I wanted the shiny new model. Had anyone experienced these issues?

Hey everyone! I just wanted to share my success with y'all I have been into manifestion since 2 years now and after alot of failure here's what worked for me and what didn't
ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO I'M SORRY IF IT'S HARD TO UNDERSTAND A FEW THINGS YOU CAN FREELY ASK ME AND I'LL TRY MY BEST TO EXPLAIN IT
I finally move out and started my college at a new place and at a new state it was near to impossible because months ago I was financially struggling I had no motivation and felt like I can't get selected by any college because of my grades, My mom and dad didn't even had the money for me to study further and I kinda accepted it but something in me still wanted to try so I tried attracting my dream college which is one of the top buisness university in my country rn I felt anxious and scared and yeah... You guessed it right my online test for that particular University went great but I f-ked up in my university interview still after the interview I clammed myself somehow and forgot that it ever happened I listened to a random subliminal after that lol but somehow with low score and everything I got into that university
After everything I totally forgot about this top University and I prepared for other colleges and kept myself occupied with tests and work (and to my shock I got in all of them) fast forward to the next month I got my results which were very important for my university and bank loan, My exams went really bad because of family problems and I lost my motivation to study even knowing it was important still I couldn't focus but somehow without any prior studying or guidance I manage to pass in all my subject (which was still good cz I thought I'll fail) but I had failed in an additional subject which doesn't gets counted while calculating my overall percentage as it was additional so I was saved by an inch one thing I realised is I had put all my attention, thoughts, listening to subliminal and scripting while desiring my perfect grades but back of my mind it always hit me they my exams weren't good I had a 44 subliminals in my exam success playlist which idk is the reason that I got lesser than what I desired my marks to be. At the end everything worked out anyway and the bank nor the university stopped me due to my marks lol
Now here comes my another problem after receiving my offer letter I saw the fees and no way I could afford that but I always went to sleep thinking it happened and I'm in front of my dream university standing there admiring it and soon after a month a distinct relative of mine called my dad and told him he will fund my living expenses and everything I was over the moon to hear that (we aren't really close but that relative of mine still wanted to help to his own willingness) and after that I applied for a loan to cover my college fees and here you would need connections with the bank employees to get your process done fast or it would take upto a month to get approved (I had already emailed the university admission council to extend my fees deadline so I needed that money badly) but idk how an old friend of my mom got in contact with her and told us he could help me with that he had alot of connections in the bank which made the process fast. Also in my college process I just listened to one subliminal and that too I haven't consistently give it a thought or attention Maybe that's the reason why I got into that prestigious university.
I still don't exactly know what I did wrong while manifesting my exam desired marks a little guidance on this would be helpful for me to work on what really went bad from my side.
Currently I'm still in my hometown just waiting for my bank to approve my loan this week and then I'll be moving to my new appartment at a new place next month :)

My mother had the great idea to embezzle all the money from the travel company she managed in the 90’s.
She ran away to hide her self without any call, or message for the 10 years that she had ongoing issues with the justice and with the Interpol.
She eventually tried to came back onto our life after the law restrictions were lifted. And, somehow that worked in the family too as could effort very expensive lawyers.
Unfortunately, as a way to cope the has created an imaginary world since she left. In which she pretends to be me the some sort of the Dalia Lama secret sister or something like that. But in which, she has never accepted nor of the things that she did. It does not matter what the Interpol said, nor the newspaper, the legal papers, she continues defends her innocence.
At this point, I am old enough to realise she is sick. But, it is not something that takes away the burden nor the pain.
She oficially, came back 20 years ago. As you can imagine her mental state after getting off such a thing enabled her to believe she’s the smartest person alive…… Unfortunately, she has not learnt anything from her past mistakes, and she keeps making undoubtable profits from her new business partners( as well as being the fiduciary of her rich friend with dementia)
To make things clear, she already tried to change her friend’s will, as she thought that it was uniquely distributed. Once again, I had to sit her down and explain to her that about the consequences. Mostly, because her rich friend also comes from a powerful family……
After a lot of struggles, and successfully ran away from her, and all the shit that came behind due the fact that I ran away. Every now and then she just send some money hoping that I will forget her.
This time, she sold a massive house and the check is quite huge. However, even if I know that the biggest trauma of my life is linked to it, and I am not just to forgive because she tries to buy my love. I cannot stop feeling like shit. Feeling mortified because I am know that this money comes from the broken dreams of a lots of families, but also because I know that she is using this a way to prove to our family how much she loves me.
I already told her, that I don’t want to give her the wrong impression. That if she is giving me money as a way to buy my forgiveness, she is once again pursuing the wrong route.
I cannot stop feeling bad for the money. I have a good job. But, I am far from being rich, but luckily a simple life is more that enough for me.
I don’t know own anything, and this might be the only way to effort a house based the latest economy. But, I cannot stop feeling like the broken brat that is taking the money that a lot of families that to work really hard to get.
Therefore, I find myself lost. Trying to figure out what’s the best approach in here

We have about 1K sqft that we need to recarpet (an upstairs bedroom area, hallway, and stairs). Carpet is old, nasty, and worn. Was put in probably 20 yrs ago by prior owner and now we've lived with for >15 years.
We currently have a small dog (<5 lbs), and he is known to pee inside when anxious or when we just miss the fact that he has to go. The dog is 7 years old and I expect this will continue for the remainder of his life, who knows, maybe get worse. He's such a small dog his pee spots are small but over time it's just a lot and really gross.
I've actually never bought carpet and don't know where to start. I just know I want the best pet urine/best cleaning carpet possible. Budget is flexible and I'd gladly pay top dollar for a padding/carpet that is amazing for pet urine/cleaning.
What things should I look for? Specific brands, technologies, install techniques, stores (box or local)? I'm open to any and all advice.

I'm a 26-year-old, 6'6" male with long ass limbs. Over the last three years, I've managed to put on a decent amount of mass, consuming between 3,500-5,000 calories and experimenting with various volumes, weights, and split routines. I've managed to figure out what works best for myself, but I find there aren't many people like me at my gym. I'd like to know what some of your experiences have been with building muscle as a true ectomorph. What works for you?

I think for me, it would have to be Andrew Gosden. A 14 year old school boy from England, who was considered to be extremely intelligent and a high achiever, decides to skip school on September 14th 2007 which is odd as he had a 100% attendance record prior to this. He had difficulty waking up that morning and was described as being moody which was reportedly very out of character for him. He left the house but instead of going to school, sat in a local park. He then returned home after everyone had left, changed into normal clothes, grabbed his PSP and left home again. He also withdrew £200 of the £214 he had in his bank account. However, he didn't bring a coat or a jacket and didn't bring his passport. £100 cash was also left untouched. Strangely, he didn't take his PSP charger with him, indicating he probably intended to return. At 9:35am he was seen boarding the train from Doncaster to King's Cross station in London. Interestingly, he only purchased a single ticket rather than a return which the conductor recalled later was unusual as a return was only 50p more but he had insisted on a single. At 11:20am, Gosden was seen walking out of King's Cross station and then he simply vanished, never to be seen or heard from again. This is one of the UK's most famous missing persons cases and there's just so many unanswered questions about it all that I hope someday are answered.
Sources: https://allthatsinteresting.com/andrew-gosden
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disappearance_of_Andrew_Gosden

I (32F) have been married to my husband (34M) for 6 years. We have 3 kids (oldest son from a prior relationship was 2 when my husband and I reconnected).
We’ve always had horrible, horrible arguments. It’s never gotten better. We get along and care for each other pretty well for the most part but the bad arguments have been a constant. We’ve tried therapy numerous times and still have never been able to ignore the toxic arguments.
The thing that has shifted is I’ve finally become pretty lonely. It feels like we’re two passing ships. It feels like my husband doesn’t care to do anything as a family or even as a couple. We’ll watch half a movie together here or there after I put our youngest to bed but for the most part, free time he gets he games and free time I get I clean or meal prep or do chores.
I’m resentful about how much I’ve always done. All the typical cleaning, the bathrooms, the kitchen (besides dishes by my husband sometimes), the floors, the shopping, the meal planning, the bills, the school stuff, etc etc. I’ve always had a full time job even when he was a stay at home dad.
I’m just so burned out. I feel like the romanticism has died down so much although we still care about each other so much. I feel like he can be committed in certain aspects but kind of thoughtless in lots of ways. I stopped giving him gifts because he never was a gift giver. The ring he proposed to me with never fit me and despite me asking him to ask the seller if he could get it replaced, he never did.
This mixed with the arguing has just become too much. My 5 year old is so afraid of us breaking up but I think we would all just be happier.
This is the closest I’ve felt to wanting it to just end and it makes me so sad. Mainly because my mom still says to this day she wish she would have made things work with my dad despite falling out of love to keep my brother and I happy. I’m so scared of hurting my kids. I’m afraid of what it will do to my oldest son’s relationship with him. But I want to be alone.
TLDR: married for 6 years with 3 kids but constant toxic arguing despite caring for and loving each other. I’m not happy but I’m afraid to hurt my kids. How do you know when to give up?

I haven't had a car in 10 years and now I am back in the car market! The main reason why I am looking for a car now is because my wife is pregnant and well the 2 of us can't just move around on a motorbike anymore. I left the United States 9 years ago and I live in Mexico now. Lots has changed in terms of prices since I last owned a car. Before you had a great selection for a used car for under 10K USD and now its crazy how little you can find in Mexico for that price. Cars are a tad bit more expensive here because of taxes.
So recently I have been looking into Madza CX-5's but the prices are kind of out of my range. Even for a used 2017 Mazda CR-V with 100 kilometers on it its about 17,000 USD! I am open to different cars and models so I will talk about what I am looking for.

1. Head room - I am a tall guy 6 foot 1 (186cm) so I am looking for a car that the roof doesn't hit my head. The last car I owned was a Honda-CRV and I had sufficient head space. Before that it was an Acura RSX and boy did my back have issues.
2. Safety - I will soon be a dad so I want a car that is safe just in case of an accident. This is the reason why I was drawn to Mazda's but recently I was checking Hyundai's and the safety concerned me a bit.
3. Price range - I would buy the Mazda CX5 in a heart beat but the 30K USD price range is steep and its hard to find a used one that's not more than 7 years old for less than 20K USD.
4. Trunk space - This is why I am thinking a mid sized SUV because I go to Home Depot time to time and would like a car with a big enough trunk space to transport materials.
5. Comfortable seats - Since I've had back issues I would like a car for comfortable seats especially for a long drive 4 hours or more. I read only how Volvos are the best for car seats but I am open.
6. Quiet Ride - I would like a car than I can drive on the highway with a quiet ride and not hear so many road noises. I guess good sound insulation is what I am looking for. I get a bit anxious when I hear a ton of noise on the highway so I am looking to minimize that.
7. A car that will last me a while. I think this speaks for itself. I would like a car for will last and preferably have a good resale value.

And if anyone here somehow sees me talking about them then that'll be amazing. I have this YouYube video as well explaining my most traumatic grooming type relationship for whoever cares. I just don't want to completely rehash everything. It is a doozy tho with many chapters, perhaps I will videograph it all.
TRIGGER WARNINGS THROUGHOUT! I will do my best to remove certain types of language without taking away from the gravity of the situations, so apologies if I am not the best with sparing anyone's sanity here

• got groomed for like a decade basically even tho i was technically an adult for the very tail end of it
• got catfished a ton and just stalked and bullied by people who were incredibly socially manipulative and malicious often manifesting as a form of sadistic entertainment for them
• witnessed the complete and total downfall of FBRP and was mostly unable to venture to other places (but if anyone would like to write with me some time DMs are open *within reason)
• ended up creating a really cool script with some buddies that i'm gonna get published so i can pay them royalties for their characters

essentially started doing this dorky shit when i was like 9 on forums and such. (I am 27 now) people my age of course had the luxury of finding other nerds on chat clients such as IMVU, chatango (RIP), omegle (good riddance), and AIM before there was websites like facebook which had instant messaging built in. MySpace did not used to have this but there was of course roleplay happening on there as well. this is the first iteration of social media based roleplaying i believe...but any e-historians can correct me if i am wrong LOL.
i had to have been about 13 when catfishing as some guy in a band just for funsies to fuck with my friends at school. i added some other fake people and then stumbled upon this person who was roleplaying as kat von D and she both was bullying me but at the same time trying to "have sexy time" and at no point was she asking my age. come to find out as of late like this past summer she is 48 years old. this was 15 years ago. so yeah do the math there lol. disgusting. as anyone may know, being bullied causes some people to very badly seek validation from others and predators see this and take that opportunity whenever possible. so obviously other pedos had their way with me but my main most psychologically damning one was with a writing partner who essentially tried to make me into the stereotype of a dirtied up little plaything with an edge that had its innocence ruined by substance abuse. this unfortunately was another very common trend to glamorize this type of behavior...as anyone with a tumblr around 2013-2016 knows.
as i gradually realized that those sorts of situations were not good because they began to manifest irl and i was dating someone who i confided these things in and who used them against me, it got easier to be normal and most of my experiences on rp were sort of normal towards the end of it. i've officially switched my fb to a writing account now and the problems have shifted but a lot are the same. i find myself drifting away even from that with how people are straight up just using AI to even have conversations, let alone pretend to be writing. i wonder what a lot of these sex pest people will do when they find out they have to pay a whole twenty dollars to still get banned for trying to use AI for smut LOL... i digress.
there is always some issue between people who are anonymous online, but the more people seem to identify with their character it can be a very bad thing. i think that social media rp is very psychologically damaging to the wrong people but that it also appeals to people who are very alone and damaged. it is like how everyone was emo and just adding strangers. a lot of RPers start off as emo or they are trying to e-date other fake people. the only normies you see doing it who like radio rap music and use instagram people for their "face claims" are there to play house with others. it is so sad. i wish for it to be a creative outlet for more people to write interesting stories, so if anyone has any other communities or discord servers i am all ears!
*if you want to DM me about roleplaying we can discuss something I have writing samples and links to stuff if you are curious like my pinterest with my OCs and stuff :3 I mostly do vampire related things or dark fantasy/horror and scifi.

“Don’t assume my life has always been lollipops and rainbows, young man. Like most people, I’ve had my share of problems and difficulties. I have experienced frustrations, money troubles, issues with finding and keeping a romantic relationship, health scares, etc. I’m like everyone else in that regard. It may seem as if I don’t have a care in the world, but it hasn’t always been that way for me. The sweet ‘gumdrops’ of life came much later. My pivotal moment came when I met ‘the broker’. That changed everything. After my appointment with him, all my troubles melted away. I negotiated an amazing deal on that fateful day.”
“The ‘broker’?”; his captive audience-of-one, stammered.
The young man was perplexed and intrigued by the odd segue. It held the promise of offering an interesting story and fulfillment of the developing narrative. The curious lad prodded the conversation along by dutifully asking for an explanation of the curious term. Without further interruption or delay, the senior gentleman picked back up in his unveiling story of contentment.
Their unspoken understanding was confirmed. With his appropriate response, the question facilitated the means for the story to move forward. It was the equivalent of two people playing ‘catch’. The back and forth ‘give-and-take’ had been handled judiciously, and with nuance.
“Many, many years ago I had a similar conversation with an older gentleman who was about the same age that I am, now. He didn’t seem to carry the weight of hardship on his shoulders and I was fascinated by his enviable sense of calm. I was about your age; and I suspect, had similar troubles to those you have. After appealing to him for his secret, he told me about ‘the broker’. it’s about time I passed that torch to you. It’s selfish of me to keep such knowledge to myself.”
The young man smiled. He sensed an entertaining reveal around the corner.
“There’s an enchanted, magical being of unknown origin; collectively known as ‘the broker’. At least that’s what I was told, years ago.”
The old man had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoon-fed the strange details to his curious protege.
“The broker’ collects personal dreams, the same way others might desire to own a classic car, or rare coins. He is drawn to interesting and unique experiences. I can’t begin to explain to you why he collects such odd things. Regardless, you’ll only have one opportunity to meet him. If he is intrigued by your entry, he will offer you a deal for the rights to ‘own’ it. Heed my advice. Be fully prepared when that happens and don’t squander away your only chance. Wait to summon him when you have an exceptional item to offer, and know exactly what you want in return for it.”
The young man could hardly believe his ears. It seemed like an intricate setup to trick a gullible rube, but the older gentleman appeared to be dead serious about the surreal details he’d divulged so far. Despite suspecting it was a masterful joke at his expense, he dared to ask follow-up questions.
“How do I summon this ‘broker of interesting dreams’, when the right time arises? I don’t remember my dreams very often, nor are many of them exceptional in any measurable way. Of the few I do remember, most of those are sinister nightmares. If I do experience something that is vivid, positive, and highly interesting, I want to be ready to share it with the dream broker.”
“That’s both wise and very prudent, young man. I feel like you grasp the gravity of my advice, but you’ve taken the parameters too literally. It doesn’t have to be an actual dreamscape you experienced while asleep. It can also be about your hopes and aspirations for the future, you see? The only thing worse than not having a valuable item to barter with in the deal; is having the perfect one to present, but not having an audience with him. That’s a missed opportunity of a lifetime, for certain.”
The young man nodded in agreement. He was highly pleased and proud his personal advisor recognized his understanding of the seriousness of the matter. He waited as patiently as he could for the answer.
“When your time arives, you’ll know. It will soon become crystal clear. There will be no doubt you’ve secured the ultimate deal. Don’t waste time by asking for silly, impractical things like ‘eternal life’ or ‘vast riches beyond compare’. A dream broker isn’t the almighty, of a magical genie. His powers to grant you wishes aren’t limitless, and his pocketbook isn’t bottomless. If he is intrigued by the dream you share, he’ll initially offer you a pittance for it. He’s a shrewd businessman who has negotiated countless deals. Resist the urge to accept any ‘lowball’ offers. Be ready with reasonable expectations, and stand firm on your demands. Good luck young man. May you broker an amazing deal which brings you a lifetime of well-being and happiness.”
The old man winked and turned to walk away.
“But wait Sir! You didn’t tell me how to contact the broker of dreams, when I’m ready to strike my deal.”
He turned back around to face the curious youth. “Oh, you are ready! I already know what you desire, young man. I can see it in your humble eyes. I’ve heard the same requests a million times from others but that doesn’t detract from its validity or precious value. All reasonable dreams for the future are basically the same, and a delight for me to fulfill. You see, when I had my own special meeting, I asked to become a broker of dreams, myself. Happiness, and good health is a wise choice, my boy. I’ve already granted them for you.”

First time Dad.
I get seasonal allergies.. basically all spring and sometimes it feels like all year haha.
My now 9 month old baby has developed a little what to me seems like a season allergy bout.
Basically he yesterday had a decently runny nose, all day and at night he kept rubbing his little nose. Sneezing and whatever comes out of his nose is just clear. Watery eyes as well.
As someone who very frequently deals with this I instantly noticed it was allergies.
However he is SOOOOO upset about it. He is basically crying easily, only wants to be with mom (for the most part yesterday was only mom. Today he likes me a lot more) he can’t hardly sleep well at all.. the poor boy got like maybe a total of 5-7 hours of sleep last night and he has since had some pretty hefty naps today. It seems like he’s getting better but I just hate seeing him so uncomfortable. I know exactly what it feels like and he sometimes basically gets angry because his nose is itchy and nothing really fixes it.
I read online there’s not much we can do besides saline, humidifier ETC.
I’m not necessarily looking for hard medical advice but I guess just a little reassurance of anyone else who’s been through this. I want to take all of his discomfort away so he can sleep well.. instead of being upset all night and day. Help! Advice?

I have been close to best friends with someone who was born into an insanely rich family ever since we were 6 years old so it’s been a friendship for more than a decade and a half. The thing is they have made some decisions regarding dating in the past that have appeared dangerous to me and for the life of me I do not understand. We used to support each other talking about our problems, but it’s so much easier to bounce back for them than it is for me, and while I’m worrying about getting a job or schoolwork, it seems to me that they are creating self-sabotaging situations and do not ever have to face the pressures I do. After giving the same advice for a while and seeing them never really taking it, I feel like I don’t need to worry for someone who literally is not from the same social class as me.
It’s hard because we have been friends for so long and I love them. But I can’t relate anymore. I can see them making an effort to reach out and I do respond, but I don’t really reach out anymore because I don’t know if we have things to talk about. I have quit social media for a while but every time I see their posts on vacation again or doing rich people things, I wonder why we are even friends because I will not be able to have that kind of lifestyle until maybe 10 years later and am currently just grinding and grinding and college and crumbling under life’s pressure. Can you really only be friends from people from your own economic status?
It’s exhausting and I don’t want to hurt their feelings. We are both pretty sensitive so I feel bad for not reaching out, and I’m sure they feel it too, but every time I see their posts I just feel bad about myself. It doesn’t feel good slowly distance yourself from a childhood friend.
Any ideas on how to deal with this? Or I guess how to conduct myself before someone like this and how to hold my ground and not feel bad about this gap?

TW: sa, hypersexuality?, depression
Hey everyone. I’m 19F, and really struggling. I wanna keep this somewhat brief because I feel as if I always end up typing a book in Reddit groups lol. Growing up, I was sexually assaulted around the age of 5, 6 maybe. As I’ve gotten older and reflected on my life, I’ve realized how much that impacted my childhood. For 1, I believe it made me SUPER hypersexual. I’ve been boy crazy (not as much now, since I’m in a relationship and only focus on my partner) but had been for as long as I can remember. Literally in elementary school, I was worried about my appearance however it was always almost a fantasy of mine to think of someone finding me attractive / desirable because I’ve always been tall growing up, and due to so much anxiety and issues growing up, I would pick at my skin. So I was a tall girl with messed up teeth, ugly and scarred skin, nappy hair, etc. anyhow, I damaged my hair badly when I was almost at puberty. I damn near cut it all off and didn’t pay attention to it to for around a year. I was just going through life in 6th grade at this point. (Try to follow along, i know this might be confusing in regards to the timeline) once my hair started to become healthy again, I started to hit puberty and started feeling confident. Between the years of 7th to 8th grade (2017-2019 ish), I became THAT GIRL. I had amazing curly hair since I had trained it to become healthy again, big boobs for being my age, amazing personality, the girl who everyone wanted. My freshman year of high school, COVID happened (2020). I became extremely isolated and depressed. Like BADLY. However, I was still very beautiful and confident. I met my now boyfriend in summer of 2021, at the age of 16, almost 17. I was also very depressed for the majority of our relationship, up until recently (within almost the past 6 months maybe? We’ve been together for 2 and a half years by the way) however, I’ve only recently started to realize specific things in life, as if I were so distracted before with my depression that I was just too sad to even pay attention to daily things. I felt hideous and worthless no matter what. NOW, present day on 2024, I’m going through the months and years since 2021 in my mind and I’m seeing it clearly in my mind how everything has really changed. I really gaslit myself for so long to make me think that I wasn’t gaining any weight, and I look fine and the same as before. In reality, I’m HUGE now. I gained soooo much weight, I used to be so slim and toned and now I’m just fat and sloppy. I always wanted to be “thick”- although I never was (I have more of an ass now that I’ve gained so much damn weight) but now my boobs sag so much when before, they were my biggest confidence boost and best feature. So now present day I’m 1 month away from going on my dream vacation with my family and boyfriend, and I’m sitting here realizing how much of a glow DOWN I had and how ugly I am now. I was pretty before but now I’m just one of those girls who peaked in high school ( literally middle school for me Lmaoo) but I feel like shit, and I’m seeing everyone’s prom posts on Instagram and seeing how much everyone is aging so nicely. How pretty the girls look who were once so tiny looking and baby looking to me, but they’ve grown up so beautiful. Also I promise I don’t even mean to sound weird when I say this but it’s just like damn. It sucks knowing that you once used to be that girl and now you’re not. I don’t know WHAT to do now, because I feel like my energy before used to be so contagious and bright, I used to be so beautiful with a great body, when before I used to hate my body because I wanted to be “thick” so bad, but now all I want is my old body back. I don’t know how I can glow up and because skinnier within the next month before my vacation, but I need some SERIOUSSSS help and advice. Pleaseeee I don’t have a sister or close to my mom to talk to her about this. I don’t have anyone to talk to about this, someone please help me. 😞

--⧼ BEGIN Broadcast Message ⧽--
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--

earlier

"CURSE THEM! The great houses are going to have my bloody head for this! There is no way this should've happened and under my command too! The Golden Emperor's own exotic holiday world has gone to ash and the only one to blame is going to be me. Well it was basically my watch anyways. Curse. Them. All"
Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
"Ix itself is an ancient world. Temperate in climate, while abundant in vegetation and small game. It is unknown how the Ixian was formed on paradise.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
Lord La'Ix bolted up all of a sudden from his resting spot. Heart suddenly beating frantically. The stars had barely enough time to shift positions when last rested his weary body, only a couple hours must have passed since dusk fell and the world plunged into night.
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Broodling La'Ix!" said a stern but educated voice.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
A good half night passed on the surface of the Savanna. Where a previously noble and alert Ixian who took great care in appearances and status was no longer to be seen. Instead of that proud domineering alien representative of ix was a dishevelled, dusty, ragged creature, dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted from the various sprints it forced itself to endure to stay ahead of fate's ever closing hand.
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Minutes passed, or hours. It was hard to tell. But the Ixian lay slumped. Body unwilling to move further. Battered flesh unwilling to be propelled by a shattered spirit.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
All Ixians were taught about 'violence' and 'conflict' at an early age. As a sort of rite of passage that any of them would go through as they survive their early broodling days. As Ix have no natural predators, they had begun to instil a serving of some necessary conflict to keep their generations fresh and somewhat physically strong. As a precaution, only rudimentary forms of civil sports, races, shows of strength and courage were ever really explored. But always in a controlled and calm settings, as there would never be any true need for actual conflict.
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
It awoke to a burning radiating heat from in front. The large sun was already starting to set on the horizon when it awoke. Had a whole day passed? Or two?
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
The night passed quietly. After the feast the human had, or the desecration of life that the prisoner saw, whichever way you look at it. The human nodded off to sleep. Content in the success of his mission. But the tied up creature had no such rest. Sending silent pleas to the stars that it might be saved. But not daring to make a sound, less it awaken that sleeping horror. Or was it sleeping? Dear Ix, it might be watching me. Feigning sleep to keep an eye on its meal. Dear Ix I'm next...
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
The scent of familiarity wafted into the senses of the prisoner as the cruiser started to slow. The smell of the salt, the chirping of familiar aviaries. Sound of the crash of sea. The port.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
La'Ix didn't remember what happened next. The memories feel like a distant dream now as he sits watching the port sky now.
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?

“Don’t assume my life has always been lollipops and rainbows, young man. Like most people, I’ve had my share of problems and difficulties. I have experienced frustrations, money troubles, issues with finding and keeping a romantic relationship, health scares, etc. I’m like everyone else in that regard. It may seem as if I don’t have a care in the world, but it hasn’t always been that way for me. The sweet ‘gumdrops’ of life came much later. My pivotal moment came when I met ‘the broker’. That changed everything. After my appointment with him, all my troubles melted away. I negotiated an amazing deal on that fateful day.”
“The ‘broker’?”; his captive audience-of-one, stammered.
The young man was perplexed and intrigued by the odd segue. It held the promise of offering an interesting story and fulfillment of the developing narrative. The curious lad prodded the conversation along by dutifully asking for an explanation of the curious term. Without further interruption or delay, the senior gentleman picked back up in his unveiling story of contentment.
Their unspoken understanding was confirmed. With his appropriate response, the question facilitated the means for the story to move forward. It was the equivalent of two people playing ‘catch’. The back and forth ‘give-and-take’ had been handled judiciously, and with nuance.
“Many, many years ago I had a similar conversation with an older gentleman who was about the same age that I am, now. He didn’t seem to carry the weight of hardship on his shoulders and I was fascinated by his enviable sense of calm. I was about your age; and I suspect, had similar troubles to those you have. After appealing to him for his secret, he told me about ‘the broker’. it’s about time I passed that torch to you. It’s selfish of me to keep such knowledge to myself.”
The young man smiled. He sensed an entertaining reveal around the corner.
“There’s an enchanted, magical being of unknown origin; collectively known as ‘the broker’. At least that’s what I was told, years ago.”
The old man had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoon-fed the strange details to his curious protege.
“The broker’ collects personal dreams, the same way others might desire to own a classic car, or rare coins. He is drawn to interesting and unique experiences. I can’t begin to explain to you why he collects such odd things. Regardless, you’ll only have one opportunity to meet him. If he is intrigued by your entry, he will offer you a deal for the rights to ‘own’ it. Heed my advice. Be fully prepared when that happens and don’t squander away your only chance. Wait to summon him when you have an exceptional item to offer, and know exactly what you want in return for it.”
The young man could hardly believe his ears. It seemed like an intricate setup to trick a gullible rube, but the older gentleman appeared to be dead serious about the surreal details he’d divulged so far. Despite suspecting it was a masterful joke at his expense, he dared to ask follow-up questions.
“How do I summon this ‘broker of interesting dreams’, when the right time arises? I don’t remember my dreams very often, nor are many of them exceptional in any measurable way. Of the few I do remember, most of those are sinister nightmares. If I do experience something that is vivid, positive, and highly interesting, I want to be ready to share it with the dream broker.”
“That’s both wise and very prudent, young man. I feel like you grasp the gravity of my advice, but you’ve taken the parameters too literally. It doesn’t have to be an actual dreamscape you experienced while asleep. It can also be about your hopes and aspirations for the future, you see? The only thing worse than not having a valuable item to barter with in the deal; is having the perfect one to present, but not having an audience with him. That’s a missed opportunity of a lifetime, for certain.”
The young man nodded in agreement. He was highly pleased and proud his personal advisor recognized his understanding of the seriousness of the matter. He waited as patiently as he could for the answer.
“When your time arives, you’ll know. It will soon become crystal clear. There will be no doubt you’ve secured the ultimate deal. Don’t waste time by asking for silly, impractical things like ‘eternal life’ or ‘vast riches beyond compare’. A dream broker isn’t the almighty, of a magical genie. His powers to grant you wishes aren’t limitless, and his pocketbook isn’t bottomless. If he is intrigued by the dream you share, he’ll initially offer you a pittance for it. He’s a shrewd businessman who has negotiated countless deals. Resist the urge to accept any ‘lowball’ offers. Be ready with reasonable expectations, and stand firm on your demands. Good luck young man. May you broker an amazing deal which brings you a lifetime of well-being and happiness.”
The old man winked and turned to walk away.
“But wait Sir! You didn’t tell me how to contact the broker of dreams, when I’m ready to strike my deal.”
He turned back around to face the curious youth. “Oh, you are ready! I already know what you desire, young man. I can see it in your humble eyes. I’ve heard the same requests a million times from others but that doesn’t detract from its validity or precious value. All reasonable dreams for the future are basically the same, and a delight for me to fulfill. You see, when I had my own special meeting, I asked to become a broker of dreams, myself. Happiness, and good health is a wise choice, my boy. I’ve already granted them for you.”

Just a warning, this is going to be very long! I (21F) and my brother (15M) were abandoned by our mother when I was 11 or 12.
For context, she was a teen mother, with a lot of mental health issues (bipolar, BPD, depression, i can only assume some form of sociopathic behavior), and she addicted to hard drugs. My father was a little rough around the edges, but overall a hardworking guy who went into the relationship with a "I can fix her" mentality. For the first few years of my life, I was oblivious to all of the issues going on in my family, I just enjoyed the first 5 years of my life as a happy child. My mother hid her drug addiction well enough for a 5 year old not to ask any questions, and I thought weekly screaming matches were normal and "mommies and daddies fight sometimes". Unbeknownst to me, my mother was cheating with dozens of people, and emotionally/financially/physically abusing my father, he put on a happy face to try and give me a good childhood. He worked 5am- 5pm at a bagel store (no car, only a bike) and never came home empty handed; always a toy, or a piece of candy for me as "sorry" for always being gone and working all day. I thought my mother would always bring her "friends" (men and women) in the house while dad was at work, and they would spend hours "playing" in her room with the door locked. I pretty much had to raise and take care of myself from the time I woke up to around 6pm, so I ended up becoming pretty smart by entertaining myself with my mom's fantasy novels (Harry potter, princess of mars, lord of the rings, etc.) On days she had college classes, our landlords (amazing people) would babysit me. My mother did give me affection, and I loved her very much, but she was very hands-off.
Granted, I wasn't the easiest child to deal with, I had ADHD, undiagnosed autism, among some other things.
When she got pregnant with my brother, (also adhd+autism) I noticed things started to change. My parents would fight more often, the house smelled like smoke, and the electricity to the apartment would be out for weeks because we couldn't pay the bills. Shortly after my brother was born, my parents had the hugest fight I've ever seen, I don't even remember what it was about (probably cheating), but it was the first time it hit me that everything in my life wasn't as happy as I thoughts. I sat clutching my baby brother as she beat my dad with a chair and started screaming. He grabbed a knife and ran outside and tried to end his life by stabbing his wrist. I was screaming and crying my landlords name, hoping my baby sitter would come and save me, he bolted downstairs, pried the door open, and grabbed the two of us and took us into his top floor of the apartment. He gave me some chocolate milk while him and his wife called the police. That was the day my parents split up, and my mom was able to spin the whole thing on my dad, taking custody and he was granted only visitation rights. My mother was kicked out of the apartment, and my aunt (dads sister, but my mother had taken a liking to her and allowed us to see her often) had a feeling something fishy was going on when no one would tell her anything about the details of that night. She went to my old house and asked my landlords what happened, they told her, so she let us sleep over with her whenever we wanted as a safe haven from our mom. She didn't go to court with any of the information she got, out of fear that my mother wouldn't let her see us again, because she was now our only place of complete safety.
My life became a living hell from that point onward. A week a later, my mom told us that her "new boyfriend"(probably a guy she cheated on dad with but I was like 7 and didn't know better) was letting us move in with him. He was the most horrible piece of shit. He got my mother addicted to even more drugs, and they both constantly talked badly about my dad, and when I cried, covered my ears, and said I didn't want to hear it, he would hit me and tell me that I needed to know. He was basically unemployed, and would sometimes sell drugs, or take antiques out of abandoned houses to sell. I hated him. My mother made an entire personality shift, and would defend him even if he said horrible things to me or hit me. She saw no fault in him. She stopped reading me bedtime stories, and stopped telling me she loved me. The only time she was nice to me was when we were in front of other people like school functions... she would kiss up to all my teachers.
I was left to take care of my baby brother on my own, and my father was in and out of mental hospitals from the trauma, so everything he said about how horrible my mother was fell of deaf ears because he was labeled "crazy".
We had no money, it was all spent on drugs, I went out by myself several times to dig through dumpsters just to get food, and I stole baby formula from supermarkets. This one nice homeless lady knew my situation, and would walk me into the stores "as my grandma" so I wouldnt get stopped to ask why a child was all alone. She would poke around the store and buy a $1 candy bar, while I stole formula, and some cold cuts for her. She showed me all the best dumpsters, where delis would throw put perfectly good food at the end of the day. We had an alliance of sorts. I was less than 9 years old.
Her boyfriend became sexually abusive to me around that time. I'll spare the details.
My mother was starting to go off the rails completely. Doing anything for drug money. I clearly remember the time that she told me to get naked and she took pictures of me, up close in all my private areas "to send to the doctor" or else "I would have to go in person and they might give me a shot" (she knew I hated needles.). She never mentioned that event again, but I just know she sent them to some pedophile for money. It makes me sick to my stomach when I think about it. Her bf would try and hurt my brother, I would always step in and get beat instead. We saw our father and aunt maybe once a month, and I was threatened not to say anything to the school or my dad/aunt or else he would kill my mom. I said nothing. I told my aunt all the bruises were from bullies at school, my teachers were taking care of it... or that I was climbing trees, some excuse. I think she knew the truth, but was too scared of losing us to say anything. Everytime they went to drop us back off at our mom's, my brother would have a tantrum. He cried so much the blood vessels in his face would pop. He now at 15 has permanant, freckle like, spots of red on his face from crying so much so often.
She got pregnant again with his twin girls. She gave birth prematurely, and they came out very very sick. She gave birth at home... I was giving most of their care. After the "ohhhh new baby" feeling wore off for her, of course I was basically a mother of 3 at 10 years old. They didn't last long, less than a year. I was in complete despair and that was the first time i tried to end my life. I filled the bathtub and tried to drown myself by repeatedly hitting my head underwater in attempts to pass out under the water. It didn't work, and I was left with neck pain and a migraine that lasted 4 days. I attempted about 5 times, different methods, by this point I haven't been to school in a week. When I came back to school, the teachers noticed something was wrong. I kept looking off into space, detached. I would lash out and act aggressively when anyone would try and talk to me. I would have 2 hour "bathroom breaks" where I just stared at the wall inside the stall and acted rudely when anyone came to get me. What did they do? Not call CPS, of course, they sent me to a special school because of my "sudden behavior issues". I was in a class now with students I could not connect with in any way. I had no friends. All the other kids in my new class had severe learning disabilities and talking to my brother who was 6 years younger than me was more of a conversation. They couldn't read, most of them were almost non-verbal.
My mom broke up with her bf because he cheated, and we were going to lose the house. He still lived with us for a few days but stayed silent. My mother blamed me, saying that I ruined everything by being a bad child and now we were going to be homless. He tried to touch me one last time and I snapped and stabbed him deeply with a BBQ screwer, he just walked away. later that night he killed himself, I saw it. I'll never get that image out of my head.
I lost it, I had an outburst at school, crying and screaming that I wanted to kill myself and for God to just let me die. They sent me to a hospital, and the school called my mom to say I was having an outburst of psychosis. I spilled everything to the hospital about what her bf was doing to me (I couldnt bring myself to talk about my mothers abuses for some reason), and after a while, it was my dad who came to get me... apparently my mother had taken off, leaving my brother alone in the house after the school had called her. I had so many questions. But I was so happy to finally be able to live with my dad and his side of the family.
I was so traumatized, as well as neurodivergent, I acted strangely and dealt with some bullies at school but that was it, it was like heaven on earth. My father didn't even know the full scope of what went on, but the more I told him the more guilty he felt. He started spoiling us a bit out of guilt, so we were happy to be with a parent who loved us.
We never knew where she went. Until I was 18, and she reached out to me on social media. Initially I didn't want to answer. I left my DM sitting there for a few days but... I felt this unexplainable pull. I hated her all these years, but for some reason when the option to take her back into my life came up... something in me missed her. I kept thinking back to the few happy times, and the curiosity was killing me. I finally messaged back, my father told me not to, but he said he couldn't stop me, I at least deserved some answers, and to get all my pent up hatred out at her for some closure. We awkwardly chatted for a few minutes, she told me that her father in West Virginia picked her up, she started a new life, joined narcotics anonymous, but stayed low and didn't let herself be known. She met a genuinely good man at NA, who had convinced her to right her wrongs, quit drugs, and fix her family. They had 2 kids together (one with down syndrome), and she was a present, active mother. I felt a vicious jealousy. Why would she go and have 2 more kids when she had 2 that she abandoned? Why were they treated with love and a loving home when we went through hell...? Why didn't she make it up to us before she went and had more kids..?
My mind did weird things then. It made me need her approval. I kissed up to her, saying I forgave her. That I always knew everything was always her ex bfs fault and not hers.That we were sad when she left. I planned a trip to see her a month later and her new family, my friends all begged me it was a bad idea, to please please not go, and at least to not tell my brother about it. I listened to them, and didnt tell my brother any of this, I told him I was visiting a long distance friend.
I went, we had a pretty good time. Her kids were cute, and I absolutely adored her new lover. He was a good southern man, my gut told me that. He took me fishing, and let me talk through all my feelings. I finally had the relationship with her that I always craved. It felt sickening good, I was estatic. I didn't care about all of the weird signs, like the weird friends she had (looked like crack addicts), and how she managed to get a kind rich southern guy to take her in. I didn't even care. I was just happy to finally feel like I had her approval. I have a habit of bedwetting time to time from anxiety, I ended up having an accident and I was mortified. I cleaned it all up, but told her and, she said it was no big deal. She used to scream at me or hit me as a child for wetting the bed, and now she was reacting normally. It was like a new woman.
My trip was cut short by a week, she had to be rushed into hospital because her appedix was about to explode, she needed to recover and wouldnt be able to do anything fun with me for the remainder of the trip. I watchd her get taken by the ambulance, and was freaking out crying, I was so relieved when the surgery was a success. Her new man apologized profusely for all he stress and bought me a plane ticket back home to NY. He hugged me saying he would be so happy to see me again over the summer, and he had so much fun fishing with me. That he wanted to be a good step dad. He was a nice dude, just like my dad (a good guy she manipulated) I felt it in my gut. They both were at the airport, my mother in a wheelchair, and hugged me off. She said she loved me and to text her when I landed
I did, and got no response. Another day passed, nothing. I started to freak out and called her, only for it to go to voicemail. I messaged one of her friends sons who she Introduced me to. Asking if she was okay. He said he would get back to me once she responded to him, but them he too ghosted me. It was like she was never there. I called her partners work, and they said they would tell him to give me a call. Nothing. I was in despair. I assumed the worst, that she had died or something because of a surgery complication. I was so confused. I pushed it all out of my mind, wrote it off as a mystery even though it ate up at me. I always just justified it as a death, even though it made no sense. She was still following me on Facebook, but there wasn't activity for months when she was once super active. I deleted facebook a few months later because it just hurt.
It's been about 3 years since then. I needed to re-download facebook because my aunt wanted me to check something on matketplace... and I looked up her name just out of curiosity... shes been posting for over a year now. She's okay. She posts her kids, her fiance... she never once responded ro any of my messages yet. Not on text, not on Facebook messenger, no where.... I scrolled and scrolled, crying. I saw she got a new tattoo... a rose for each of her kids.... one for each of her two new kids, one for a miscarriage she had...two for our sisters who passed away... NONE for me or my brother. Like we don't even exist to her.
I don't know what to do. I want to know WHY. We finally had a good relationship, I finally forgave her. We finally could have been okay, saw each other a few times a year... she said she was happy to have me back in her life.... WHY? I'm so heartbroken and confused. I miss her. Was it because I wet the bed? I don't know. I know shes horrible, but I can't help but miss her so much it hurts. Should I continue trying to reach out, or just let her go..? How do I process thos? Any advice, or maybe a theory/explanation/comfort. Anything would help. I just need help. I don't know what to do...

(Asking here because I’m hesitant to post on the forums, trying to avoid getting banned at all costs lmao.)
I originally signed up for toyhouse about half a year before I turned 13. At the time, I wasn’t really aware of the concept of 18 being adult, and I picked a random age that I didn’t even bother to calculate, which was 2002. (17 at the time) When I turned 13, my account turned 18. Once I realized that my account was adult I blocked all mature content. I never stated my age publicly and pretty much never interacted with accounts that I didn’t already know from outside of toyhouse.
I am now 16, and this has been a source of anxiety for a few years now lol. I know I should have done something sooner, but I am still not really sure what I should do to avoid getting banned.
Because my account is an adult, I do have the ability to edit my age but I have no idea what will happen if I edit my own age from adult to minor - I couldn’t find anyone who has tried this before.
I would send in a ticket, but it seems like they don’t do age corrections anymore, although I couldn’t find any examples of what to do in my situation.
Would it be a good idea to make a new account, transfer my characters, and delete the old one, or would that raise suspicion?
Any help is appreciated!!

“Don’t assume my life has always been lollipops and rainbows, young man. Like most people, I’ve had my share of problems and difficulties. I have experienced frustrations, money troubles, issues with finding and keeping a romantic relationship, health scares, etc. I’m like everyone else in that regard. It may seem as if I don’t have a care in the world, but it hasn’t always been that way for me. The sweet ‘gumdrops’ of life came much later. My pivotal moment came when I met ‘the broker’. That changed everything. After my appointment with him, all my troubles melted away. I negotiated an amazing deal on that fateful day.”
“The ‘broker’?”; his captive audience-of-one, stammered.
The young man was perplexed and intrigued by the odd segue. It held the promise of offering an interesting story and fulfillment of the developing narrative. The curious lad prodded the conversation along by dutifully asking for an explanation of the curious term. Without further interruption or delay, the senior gentleman picked back up in his unveiling story of contentment.
Their unspoken understanding was confirmed. With his appropriate response, the question facilitated the means for the story to move forward. It was the equivalent of two people playing ‘catch’. The back and forth ‘give-and-take’ had been handled judiciously, and with nuance.
“Many, many years ago I had a similar conversation with an older gentleman who was about the same age that I am, now. He didn’t seem to carry the weight of hardship on his shoulders and I was fascinated by his enviable sense of calm. I was about your age; and I suspect, had similar troubles to those you have. After appealing to him for his secret, he told me about ‘the broker’. it’s about time I passed that torch to you. It’s selfish of me to keep such knowledge to myself.”
The young man smiled. He sensed an entertaining reveal around the corner.
“There’s an enchanted, magical being of unknown origin; collectively known as ‘the broker’. At least that’s what I was told, years ago.”
The old man had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoon-fed the strange details to his curious protege.
“The broker’ collects personal dreams, the same way others might desire to own a classic car, or rare coins. He is drawn to interesting and unique experiences. I can’t begin to explain to you why he collects such odd things. Regardless, you’ll only have one opportunity to meet him. If he is intrigued by your entry, he will offer you a deal for the rights to ‘own’ it. Heed my advice. Be fully prepared when that happens and don’t squander away your only chance. Wait to summon him when you have an exceptional item to offer, and know exactly what you want in return for it.”
The young man could hardly believe his ears. It seemed like an intricate setup to trick a gullible rube, but the older gentleman appeared to be dead serious about the surreal details he’d divulged so far. Despite suspecting it was a masterful joke at his expense, he dared to ask follow-up questions.
“How do I summon this ‘broker of interesting dreams’, when the right time arises? I don’t remember my dreams very often, nor are many of them exceptional in any measurable way. Of the few I do remember, most of those are sinister nightmares. If I do experience something that is vivid, positive, and highly interesting, I want to be ready to share it with the dream broker.”
“That’s both wise and very prudent, young man. I feel like you grasp the gravity of my advice, but you’ve taken the parameters too literally. It doesn’t have to be an actual dreamscape you experienced while asleep. It can also be about your hopes and aspirations for the future, you see? The only thing worse than not having a valuable item to barter with in the deal; is having the perfect one to present, but not having an audience with him. That’s a missed opportunity of a lifetime, for certain.”
The young man nodded in agreement. He was highly pleased and proud his personal advisor recognized his understanding of the seriousness of the matter. He waited as patiently as he could for the answer.
“When your time arives, you’ll know. It will soon become crystal clear. There will be no doubt you’ve secured the ultimate deal. Don’t waste time by asking for silly, impractical things like ‘eternal life’ or ‘vast riches beyond compare’. A dream broker isn’t the almighty, of a magical genie. His powers to grant you wishes aren’t limitless, and his pocketbook isn’t bottomless. If he is intrigued by the dream you share, he’ll initially offer you a pittance for it. He’s a shrewd businessman who has negotiated countless deals. Resist the urge to accept any ‘lowball’ offers. Be ready with reasonable expectations, and stand firm on your demands. Good luck young man. May you broker an amazing deal which brings you a lifetime of well-being and happiness.”
The old man winked and turned to walk away.
“But wait Sir! You didn’t tell me how to contact the broker of dreams, when I’m ready to strike my deal.”
He turned back around to face the curious youth. “Oh, you are ready! I already know what you desire, young man. I can see it in your humble eyes. I’ve heard the same requests a million times from others but that doesn’t detract from its validity or precious value. All reasonable dreams for the future are basically the same, and a delight for me to fulfill. You see, when I had my own special meeting, I asked to become a broker of dreams, myself. Happiness, and good health is a wise choice, my boy. I’ve already granted them for you.”

“Don’t assume my life has always been lollipops and rainbows, young man. Like most people, I’ve had my share of problems and difficulties. I have experienced frustrations, money troubles, issues with finding and keeping a romantic relationship, health scares, etc. I’m like everyone else in that regard. It may seem as if I don’t have a care in the world, but it hasn’t always been that way for me. The sweet ‘gumdrops’ of life came much later. My pivotal moment came when I met ‘the broker’. That changed everything. After my appointment with him, all my troubles melted away. I negotiated an amazing deal on that fateful day.”
“The ‘broker’?”; his captive audience-of-one, stammered.
The young man was perplexed and intrigued by the odd segue. It held the promise of offering an interesting story and fulfillment of the developing narrative. The curious lad prodded the conversation along by dutifully asking for an explanation of the curious term. Without further interruption or delay, the senior gentleman picked back up in his unveiling story of contentment.
Their unspoken understanding was confirmed. With his appropriate response, the question facilitated the means for the story to move forward. It was the equivalent of two people playing ‘catch’. The back and forth ‘give-and-take’ had been handled judiciously, and with nuance.
“Many, many years ago I had a similar conversation with an older gentleman who was about the same age that I am, now. He didn’t seem to carry the weight of hardship on his shoulders and I was fascinated by his enviable sense of calm. I was about your age; and I suspect, had similar troubles to those you have. After appealing to him for his secret, he told me about ‘the broker’. it’s about time I passed that torch to you. It’s selfish of me to keep such knowledge to myself.”
The young man smiled. He sensed an entertaining reveal around the corner.
“There’s an enchanted, magical being of unknown origin; collectively known as ‘the broker’. At least that’s what I was told, years ago.”
The old man had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoon-fed the strange details to his curious protege.
“The broker’ collects personal dreams, the same way others might desire to own a classic car, or rare coins. He is drawn to interesting and unique experiences. I can’t begin to explain to you why he collects such odd things. Regardless, you’ll only have one opportunity to meet him. If he is intrigued by your entry, he will offer you a deal for the rights to ‘own’ it. Heed my advice. Be fully prepared when that happens and don’t squander away your only chance. Wait to summon him when you have an exceptional item to offer, and know exactly what you want in return for it.”
The young man could hardly believe his ears. It seemed like an intricate setup to trick a gullible rube, but the older gentleman appeared to be dead serious about the surreal details he’d divulged so far. Despite suspecting it was a masterful joke at his expense, he dared to ask follow-up questions.
“How do I summon this ‘broker of interesting dreams’, when the right time arises? I don’t remember my dreams very often, nor are many of them exceptional in any measurable way. Of the few I do remember, most of those are sinister nightmares. If I do experience something that is vivid, positive, and highly interesting, I want to be ready to share it with the dream broker.”
“That’s both wise and very prudent, young man. I feel like you grasp the gravity of my advice, but you’ve taken the parameters too literally. It doesn’t have to be an actual dreamscape you experienced while asleep. It can also be about your hopes and aspirations for the future, you see? The only thing worse than not having a valuable item to barter with in the deal; is having the perfect one to present, but not having an audience with him. That’s a missed opportunity of a lifetime, for certain.”
The young man nodded in agreement. He was highly pleased and proud his personal advisor recognized his understanding of the seriousness of the matter. He waited as patiently as he could for the answer.
“When your time arives, you’ll know. It will soon become crystal clear. There will be no doubt you’ve secured the ultimate deal. Don’t waste time by asking for silly, impractical things like ‘eternal life’ or ‘vast riches beyond compare’. A dream broker isn’t the almighty, of a magical genie. His powers to grant you wishes aren’t limitless, and his pocketbook isn’t bottomless. If he is intrigued by the dream you share, he’ll initially offer you a pittance for it. He’s a shrewd businessman who has negotiated countless deals. Resist the urge to accept any ‘lowball’ offers. Be ready with reasonable expectations, and stand firm on your demands. Good luck young man. May you broker an amazing deal which brings you a lifetime of well-being and happiness.”
The old man winked and turned to walk away.
“But wait Sir! You didn’t tell me how to contact the broker of dreams, when I’m ready to strike my deal.”
He turned back around to face the curious youth. “Oh, you are ready! I already know what you desire, young man. I can see it in your humble eyes. I’ve heard the same requests a million times from others but that doesn’t detract from its validity or precious value. All reasonable dreams for the future are basically the same, and a delight for me to fulfill. You see, when I had my own special meeting, I asked to become a broker of dreams, myself. Happiness, and good health is a wise choice, my boy. I’ve already granted them for you.”

So I started my collection 2 years ago when I was given a B&BW gift card for Christmas. I've made quite a few online blind buys during SAS as I don't really have a location close enough to just go in and try different scents, but I usually end up liking them. In The Stars was one of my first buys based on reviews and the scent profiles I usually gravitate towards, I love heavy, musky, "old lady type" scents. For example my favorites are Into The Night, Dahlia, Luminous...anything overpowering and long lasting, I grew up with a mom who doused herself in Esteé Lauder, Clinique, etc and she passed on her love of strong perfume to me.
Anyway, there was one review in particular about InThe Stars (can't find it now) that stuck with me and now every time I smell it I get a disturbing mental pic, even though I technically like it.
The review or comment was from a mortician or somebody who works with the dead and she basically said she was looking for something to cover up the smell of dead bodies that would stay on her...or something to that effect. In The Stars was recommended so of course I'm thinking if it's that strong then I'd love it. Well, I do like the smell, but now every time I smell it I automatically think of dead bodies to the point I feel nauseated. I'm contemplating giving it away as I've only used it a couple of times, cause who on Earth wants to wear something that conjures up such a gruesome image every time you smell it?
What is a B&BW scent you sort of like but somehow associate with something negative so you can't wear it?