Greek baby girl names

Seriously, I still don't understand why Source did not do a pre release for le sserafim this comeback.
It's chart performance has been crazy. It's peak on melon is the same as fearless i.e. #8 and I'm sure it's gonna rise even more in the following days across all platforms. This is just a b side that was promoted barely for a week mind u.
Even leaving chart performance aside , in this current environment where girl groups r coming out with pre releases constantly , I'm not sure why Source thought not having a pre release for their first full album was the right thing. Judging by how they made a mv already for this track before they saw the response , they were anyhow going to promote it. A missed chance and wasted potential.
The major reason why I say this is wasted potential is coz this song is perfect for le sserafim. This is what the audience were promised with all the pre debut material they released. Fits perfectly with their concept of being fearless.
For people who do not know, the track name symbolises 3 women from religion, myth and fairy tales who r similarly recognised for their rebellious and disobedient acts. Their curiosity made them cross the restrictions and they were punished. The song chorus even has a line " I wish for what's forbidden" . It just represents their concept soo well that they won't fear any limitations and will always do what they want. ( for people who r interested in knowing more : https://youtu.be/bZLWDHRmnCI)
This song is already doing incredibly well nd receiving more exposure even though it's a b side. The reason why I say it's wasted potential is coz it could have been soo much more. We all know many people don't check b sides of kpop groups. The most people do is check out the main track nd pre release. They don't delve into other tracks and hence miss out on soo many bangers. I genuinely think this song could have been "THE" Le sserafim track that showcases their concept perfectly much as Antifragile currently is. When people think of le sserafim, I think this song could be the first thing to come to their minds had source promoted it well. But alas, we will never know ig.

I'm in the middle of s1e10 so PLEASE no spoilers for s2!
Shauna has been and still is SUCH a shitty friend. I seriously do not get the hate for Jackie. If Jackie was supposed to be this shallow mean girl, the writers did an awful job of showing it because I genuinely like her character. Shauna, however, I cannot stand.
At first I thought she was closeted and longing to be with Jackie which I found sweet. Then finding out she not only slept with Jeff behind Jackie's back but then ENDED UP WITH HIM? And Jeff is a pretty damn good and loyal husband. I can't see why Shauna is being rewarded in the show for her constant shitty behavior. Anyway, in the wilderness, Shauna claims Jackie is shallow and insecure and weak but then contradicts herself by saying Jackie had sooo much power over her that she controlled what she wore and the sport she played. Sounds like Shauna is the weak one to me.
Shauna could've had any guy at home but decided to sleep with Jeff and somehow Jackie got flack from the entire group for sleeping with Travis when he was literally the only eligible guy there to sleep with. I truly do not get how Jackie is supposed to be the villain. Nothing in the previous 9 episodes even showed Jackie being spoiled, rude or a bitchy best friend. She was literally always there for Shauna, giving her her necklace before the crash, being supportive of her pregnancy before she found out the baby was Jeff’s. Even when she wasn't pulling her weight in the group, she ended up doing work anyways after a talk with Shauna, so again, not seeing why they all hate Jackie. And if her being cynical and stand-offish is bad, then Travis should also be getting the same flack because he was an asshole before he started fucking Natalie (taking more food than deserved, being misogynistic towards the girls, etc).
Back to Shauna:
In the present, Shauna has literally no character development as she's jealous of her daughter (who is way more of a brat than Jackie btw) and she does things without thinking. She's also literally got the other women involved in a murder that was 100% HER FAULT and it could ruin the other women's lives. Also why was she literally getting off to her daughter's TEENAGE BOYFRIEND??? I am side-eyeing anyone who likes Shauna's character. SHE is the one who is selfish and shallow and I hate how the show is portraying her as someone to root for. I literally hate that she was the one to survive and how she's basically the main character but I cannot stop watching this show because everything else about it is literally amazing.
Rant done.

My(23F) ex(22M) dumped me almost 8 months ago, and we have been NC since 6 months now. I follow him on Insta from a fake account(his profile is public), and I often keep stalking him when I miss him. Today, his following went from 171 to 172 (I know I might be sounding stupid for stalking my ex but I am having some difficult time moving on). I roughly remember the names of all the girls he follows(he follows only 5 to 6 girls), and I found out that he had started following someone new recently.
I know my ex very well. He is someone who is very reserved in person, and rarely talks to girls. He is someone who doesn't use social media much, and he normally doesn't follow back people on Instagram unless he has a very deep friendship with them. All the other girls whom he follows are our common school friends, but he recently started following someone from his college. I am damn sure both of them are having something between them otherwise my ex doesn't easily follow girls on Insta, he isn't very active there and is mostly busy with his 9 to 9 job which completely drains his energy.
After seeing all this, I have sunk into overthinking and I am having anxiety. I tried talking to other guys on dating apps after my breakup, met a few great people but I turned down their proposals because I was still in love with my ex, and here my ex is already seeing someone new.
That was just a rant. If you read till here, thanks a lot. Just wish that I am able to sleep tonight because when my mind is overthinking, I am not able to sleep properly :')

So a couple of years ago me and my wife had our first child. A beautiful little girl we decided to name Charolette, but we call her Charlie for short.
We are now expecting our second daughter, and my wife wants to name her Mackenzie because she wants to call her Mac for short.
She does not watch the show, and doesn’t realize the gift she gave me naming my girls Mac and Charlie!
It’s going to be weird naming our third girl Dennis though….

My boyfriend has been cheating off and on since we've had our second child. I’ve been given him chance, after chance because he'll tell me changed and he love me and our family. We have four kids together (7,6,3,2) we don't have anymore kids, but I got pregnant again. Around Christmas my daughter told me that her dad had a girl in the house. He tell her not to tell me because mommy would be sad .She told me she was scared . and she didn't know what to do and she begged me not to tell... I asked her what did the lady look like and she told me she had blonde hair and was skinny and they went upstairs. Later that day, when my husband went to work after hiding cameras around the house. I have to work Christmas Eve because I work at a hospital. I got a notification from my phone so I went in the bathroom to watch the live feed. My husband was having sex with someone on our couch I was so devastated. I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I wanted to cry, but I didn't want people to ask me what was wrong. I felt so embarrassed, I feel so ashamed. When I came home from work, I confronted him I showed him the video he was he looked at me and said " you caught me what do you want me to sav?" I have no words to sav I didn't wanna make a scene because the next day was Christmas but I cut up all his clothes and burn all his shoes. Four months has passed and he wasn't trying to have sex with me. Our anniversary had came up and he still didn't wanna have sex with me. He told me that he was celibate because he was trying to find God. I was foolish enough to believe him. And so I got a phone call from the health department, telling me that a person that I had been intimate with is HIV positive. I had to make an appointment to get tested. I was crying because the only person I've been with for so many years with my husband I've never cheated. So I call my husband and called him he told me was delusional if would ever think that he will ever hide something like that from me. Days has past. I went to the doctor to get tested I was there for about almost an hour. They asked me to write down a list of people that I have sex with, and it was only one name. They came back with so many needles and I started crying. I couldn't breathe, and I start hyperventilating. They had to take me outside so I can get some air. After my test came back negative they told me he had known for months..I was so lost. I didn't know what to do and I didn't know how to confront him. When I confronted him, he asked me what do you want me to say... with the line in the pass cannot be changed. He's trying to change his life and I should be happy. He told me he got it from the girl from Christmas Eve he told me that he didn't think it was a big of a deal to tell me because we wasn't having sex. A month has passed in I have been being mean to him he’s been sleeping in the guest room and I recently I been talking to him because I feel bad he sleeps in my bed again I feel like we can get pass this but every time I look at him I’m just reminded of him cheating and getting something I’m lost if what I should do and can’t talk to family because I don’t want them looking at him differently.

From chef/owner John Perkins:
Juniper is becoming something new. The old needs to pass away, and in its place, something new can emerge. I recognize this is a sad moment for many folks who have come to Juniper over the years. You came for special occasions, anniversary celebrations and birthdays, graduation, date night, or a great cocktail and a delicious bowl of shrimp and grits. But the world has changed, and we must change with it. What might have worked a few years ago just doesn’t work today. And that’s ok.
I admit that I have fought against this change. I gave in to thinking sentimentally about this place, named after one of my daughters, which started nearly a decade ago with a few scraps and a lot of determination. I viewed it, at times, not as a business but as an extension of myself. Juniper was my baby. But that sentimentality clouded my judgment. I had to be honest about what was sustainable in the new post-covid restaurant world.
Our last service as Juniper will be on July 2nd. It’s a brunch service. We will re-open as Sunday Best by Juniper sometime in late July. I am hoping by the 26th. Sunday Best grew out of my childhood experiences eating at roadside fried chicken places in the bootheel, Sunday Suppers with plates piled high, and bowls of mashed potatoes and sweet tea in mason jars. It is something old but new, familiar yet fresh. We will have oysters, fresh and grilled. A few small plates, sides, soft serve ice cream. Back to basics on our bar: the return of the Presbyterian, a punch of the week, more beers and bubbles. And, of course, our fried chicken, better than ever. Two-piece, four-piece, whole bird, our sandwich (available grilled too!), and tenders.
Here are a few other changes: no reservations except for large parties, counter service lunch, and Happy Hour is back! Brunch is staying. Days of operation will still be Wednesday through Sunday, but now 11-9. And Sunday Suppers on Sunday evening with industry discounts. More to come next week!
It will be familiar but not the same. I am excited and eager, I hope you will be too.

Q : Write a short story about Minori from Toradora
Once upon a time, in the bustling town of Yasukawa, there lived a vibrant and lively girl named Minori. With her radiant smile and boundless enthusiasm, she brought joy to the lives of everyone she met. Minori had dreams and aspirations, fueled by her unwavering determination to make the most out of every single moment.
As fate would have it, Minori's path crossed with that of Ryuji, a kind-hearted young man known for his gentle nature. Their connection grew stronger with each passing day, forming a deep bond between them. However, unbeknownst to Ryuji, Minori carried a secret burden in her heart.
You see, Minori always prioritized the happiness of others over her own. She wore a mask of cheerfulness, ensuring that those around her felt supported and uplifted. But deep down, she struggled with her own fears and insecurities, hiding them beneath her cheerful facade. She believed that by sacrificing her own desires, she could shield those she cared about from her own pain.
As time went on, Minori's feelings for Ryuji blossomed into love, a love she held close to her heart. But, alas, life had other plans. Ryuji's heart was captured by another: Taiga, a passionate and complex girl who also carried her own share of heartache and longing.
Although Minori longed for Ryuji's affection, she chose to keep her unrequited love to herself. She continued to be a pillar of support for Ryuji and Taiga, selflessly putting their happiness before her own. With every smile she wore, her heart ached, knowing that her own desires would forever go unfulfilled.
As the story reached its climactic moments, emotions ran high, and the truth could no longer be suppressed. Minori mustered the courage to reveal her love for Ryuji, finally letting the weight of her unspoken words be heard. It was a vulnerable and heartbreaking moment as she poured out her soul, only to receive a gentle but painful rejection.
In the end, Minori's journey took her away from the love she cherished, leaving her with a heavy heart and unfulfilled dreams. Her story was one of sacrifice and selflessness, but it was also tinged with the pain of unrequited love. Though her ending may be seen as "bad" in the conventional sense, it spoke volumes about her resilience and inner strength.
Minori's tale serves as a reminder that even the most vibrant and selfless individuals bear their own burdens. It is a poignant narrative of unrequited love, sacrifice, and the complexities of the human heart. And while her ending may be bittersweet, it stands as a testament to the depth of her character and the profound impact she had on the lives of those she encountered.
As the story of Minori slowly fades into the tapestry of Yasukawa's history, her legacy lives on in the hearts of those she touched. She will forever be remembered as the girl who gave so much of herself, even if her own love story carried a tinge of sadness.

I had originally posted this in legaladvice, but they seem to be too focused on the US to help me
I am making a youtube video about the history of Quantum Field Theory (this is my previous video on the subject), and I want to use this picture of Niels Bohr with his mother and his brother, because I want my audience to see these scientists as people, and not only as names
The problem is that the only website that has this image is that archive from the Danish government, and they have very special rules about how to use them, here is the relevant part:

Images from arkiv.dk may be shared on social media, e.g. Facebook by help of the share icons that are found on the catalogue entries for the images on arkiv.dk. You may also make a link to a catalogue entry on arkiv.dk from your own home page. This may be done an unlimited number of times. You are not permitted to copy the image and upload it directly onto Facebook and other social media nor crop the image and remove the watermark.
If you want a digital copy of one or more images for your own private use, please contact the archive that owns the material. You can also contact the archive directly through the icon Contact the archive, found on the individual catalogue entries, or you can find contact details for the archive on: www.arkivvejviser.dk.
If you wish to use the images for publication purposes, or for other purposes that go beyond strictly private use, please contact the archive or archives that own the images. Here, you can come to an agreement over the use of the images.
When you use images and other material from arkiv.dk, you should be aware that you are responsible for complying with the terms and conditions set by the archives and required by copyright laws.
At the least, the names of the photographer and the archive should always be mentioned below the image. In cases where the photographer is unknown, this should be stated.
Moreover, if the copyright of an image has not yet expired, you should obtain permission from the copyright owner to use the image.

Now. This picture was taken in 1902, and the author is unknown. I am not an expert in Danish copyright law, but it seems to me that given these facts, this picture is in the public domain, and as such, anyone should be able to take it and use it in any way they like
(In most countries works made before ~1930 are automatically in the public domain. Also, the author would have to be at least 121 years old, assuming a baby took the photo, so they are most likely dead, and they died more than 70 years ago, which would also place the picture in the public domain in most countries. But none of this matters, because the author is unknown, which in most countries would still place it in the public domain even if it was taken yesterday)
In my case I would still credit the archive and mention that the photographer is unknown, as they ask, but I wouldn't have to do it, right?
If I am mistaken, could you please explain to me why this picture is not yet in the public domain?
Thank you guys so much!

a girl that lives with her sister and she finds an alien in the forest,my parents remember that show and they wanna know the name of the show

View Poll

I’m sorry this is as long as the fucking bible, but I need somewhere to rant into. I just wanna be a cis guy, everything feels too hard like this. I have this constant mindset of needing to prove I’m trans enough and I’m making my entire life hell and I can’t stop, every minute of every day is spent stressed if I’m just faking it or if I’m misinterpreting everything. I can’t be happy about anything anymore because it always leads to the thought of “you don’t know what you actually want” I’ve had 2 full panic attacks today and I’ve only been up for 3 hours now. Sometimes I’ll get random moments of clarity and I’ll feel good for several hours, feeling like I’m a boy with no confusion, and it feels amazing, it’s the only times I’m happy these days but the slightest things can shake me out of this mindset and back into constant anxiety and judgment. My therapist has said that I seem to be severely lacking in reassurance and validation from others, and he’s right. My dysphoria was so bad that I had to switch to an online school because being in public and knowing I’m perceived female made it impossible to function in any way, so all I have are my parents (I’m a minor so I still live at home with them) and they aren’t supportive. My dad usually just doesn’t acknowledge me being a guy and has made pretty much no effort in trying to change anything (but when he does say anything it’s usually bad, he told me I’ll always be his daughter the other day and that I need to be more grateful for my birth name), but my mom makes me feel so much worse. For the first 2 months or so after I first came out she would come into my room randomly and scream at me for hours about how I never used to be like this and how I’m making a mistake and don’t understand how I feel. It’s been about a year and a half since I told them and I mom still does that sometimes. I don’t have any close friends either, I have some friends but most of my truely close friendships have faded out over the years, the friends I do have are well intentioned but they aren’t very good at helping me, I asked one for advice and they said I should join a sport but said I should probably join a girls team, I know they didn’t mean it in a bad way but I could have cried then and there. (TW: self harm and suicide) I’ve never felt suicidal until about 3 months ago when this anxiety started, I’d always been able to hope for things getting better in the future but everything feels so heavy now. I don’t even know what a better future would look like because all I can think about is the idea that I’ll grow out of everything or that I’m wrong about my feelings. I think I was carrying a lot before this period of time but something just burst it feels like, all of the things I had been scared of are just flooding into me at once. I think it first started when I watched a detransition video. It’s taken me so long to understand why I’m so scared of anything related to detransition but I think it’s the thought of not being male rather than anything else, I’d rather kill myself than try and live as a woman and at this rate I’m scared that I’m going to try doing that. I think I’ve always been an obsessive and a logical person which is a really shitty combination right now, I just can’t justify me being trans and it scares me. It should be easy “I feel happy and truely at home as a man” but like…wouldn’t that also just be the same thing someone who detransitioned felt? I can’t logically separate myself and it makes me feel like everything is collapsing. My therapist also had a conversation with me on how self harm can be a method to feel like we have control over something, and I think that’s the best way to put it for me, I’ve never needed to do it before but now it’s the only thing that seems to calm me down. I feel so helpless like this, I’m sitting wearing 2 binders with a blanket over my head sobbing on my swingset in my backyard as I type this, I feel pathetic. I don’t even think it was this bad when I first realized I was trans, it was hard and the first interaction I had with trans stuff back then was that Abigail Shrier book, it was bad but it was never THIS intense. My therapist (there’s a lot of my therapist moments, I’m sorry) has told me that I need to stop looking at transphobic right wing media, it just scares me tho, I feel like I need to, it’s kinda addictive almost. It feels good to know what people are saying about you even if it leads to panic attacks, and I feel like I need to prove them wrong, that I’m not in a progressive echo chamber like they say, and that I know how to “take criticism” but now I feel to fatigued and hate myself too much to argue. It’s this sort of paranoia I guess tho, I took everything to heart and now I am where I am. Did I do this to myself? I think at this point I’m just trapped in the hole I dug myself. I don’t wanna be trans, I just wanna be a guy, or maybe nothing at all. Everything hurts in all directions and I have so much more to say, so much about my childhood, my feelings, the people I know. But I’m kinda just ready to…stop existing yknow? I won’t actually do anything, I hate pain and commitment way too much to kill myself. I just wanna think about it.

Notes: We are both 16
I know the title sounds bad, I completely get it. You would never want to call someone overly dramatic when they experience emotions. This is just tiring, she is constantly arguing with me over trivial things (I constantly agree of if you feel something thats enough to make it real). She got mad at me for asking her “are you gonna watch the Spiderman movie with julie (fake name). Her response was “Im hanging up” proceeds to go on a rant about how she hates being correlated with her friends and how she feels like im always relating them to her and I did ask her before but she has done things like go with her friends before when I’ve asked first. After that I sit there and validate every single feeling and its like 11:30 at night and i got home at 10 ish and argued at 10:20 I came home from a 9 hour shift as well so i was tired. After all of that me sitting there and just telling her she is right and i was being stupid she calls me and i tell her im sleepy and im gonna sleep so she hangs up on me very petty and i call her back and i just like in a really stern and aggressive voice i told her like “Why did you hang up? I always sit there and validate how you feel and you get upset that im tired after working all day?” She stayed quiet the whole time, I even like said hello and she just stayed quiet so I hang up. After i text her like why do you just stay quiet after all of that and she just says “im sorry” like 8 times and she spams calls me but at this point I just want to sleep. I answer her call, i ask her like why did she not respond and she says “i couldnt move, i just couldnt say anything to you, i was scared” I respond with “are you okay? like do you feel like i abuse you i feel as someone would only have this reaction if they were being abused” (In my head i literally am like what the hell I dont even yell at this girl let alone even touch her) she says “you were just being so mean and aggressive, so i just was so scared” what i do after that is talk to her in a more callming voice and im like “I dont yell at you yet its almost like you attribute me to being abusive, i dont call you names and i sit here all the time and listen to your feelings and just validate them” she just stays quiet and like she just starts bawling and crying a lot and i just im just lost at this point like its gotten nowhere and its already like 1 in the morning at this point and after she just like im sorry and im tired and like i love you goodnight i get pissed after this like said a petty comment and i shouldnt have said it but i said “all i wanted was to talk to you and look where we are” and she like starts bawling again and im just like im sorry and we go to sleep fast forward to like right now she is still upset we havent talk all morning and she is just like “im tired, my heart hurts, being in a call with you hurts me more” I ask is it about yesterday and she says yes and i go and say “ Oh if you would like to be alone i understand , you dont have to be in the call, im sorry if im bothering you at all” she says after this “idk what to do anymore, it hurts sm, like why can you love me but make me feel so horrible” I said “Im sorry i make you feel that way, i dont intend to make you feel that way at all, its okay to still be bothered by yesterday, there isn’t much to do, we talked about it and came up with the solution and talked about what we could do better, its just a matter of us moving on from the situation.” She just says after that “yea, do you want to watch a show” Like im just so confused like im horrible a person one second and she just wants to watch a show with me now?? please i need advice i really love this girl.
Edit She just sent me this “i just cant. i cant be with your presence and trying to be okay when im not okay at all. i cant ignore how i feel when im with you and its unfair to you so its better if im just alone. we didnt come up with solutions you did. what solutions. you are right half my problems are not real and last night was dumb, i just needed to be alone. i regret talking about how i feel with you and feeling that way cuz you just get annoyed. Like i dont feel safe when you get aggravated that way like i already been telling you how i feel that way and my anxiety. like i just want to be heared and i dont expect you to do that because you are human and have your own thoughts. i dont even feel human around you because it feel like your so mean to me. but it doesnt even matter. And i did acknowledge you trying. I dont know what to do i feel like shit rn like i wanted to die last night. snd we wake up feeling worse. like i understand how you got annoyed when i didnt reply to you when u called out my name like what else can i say i was hurt i couldnt talk like you dont understand how it felt. i was so helpless and scared. like why do you say you love me but your so mean and dont treat me oike a princess. i’m not even mad i just remember how i felt and it hurt so much. like this is all i have to say and i dont want you to reply like sorry if this is repetitive and makes no sense i’m just promising to protect myself and not cause myself to feel this way ever again” I dont understand this at all., she is saying all these things and i just dont know what to do like i want to hear her out but like i mjsut like i dotn know what to do “hopeless and scared” like idk thats just so foreign to me, i grew up in a really physical household and this to me is somethign i think only people with domestic violence..i dont even yell at her i just want to get better for her and me i just dont know where to draw the line i havent replied to her but she also said this
“my heart just feels broken and this may be over exaggerating thats just how i feel i think its cuz i put every ounce of trust with you and thats so unfair, and i apologize for everythjng”

I used to have it during puberty, roundabout from 11 to 16 years old. Im 27 now but tbh I'm glad I finally found out what this mystery was that made my life hell for 5 years and to this day has a massive impact on my mental health. I could never smell it myself, my parents couldnt smell it either which is why i never really talked about it with them and they couldnt help me. There were a few people here and there that couldnt smell the stuff either and the existence of those "safe" people are the only thing that kept me alive, but man it's always been such a mystery to me why for most people my smell seems to be horrible but some don't show any type of reaction, I always thought those people just have really bad noses lol, what happened to me makes so much more sense now knowing that 10-20% of people can't smell those Trimethylamines. I am grateful that at least it stopped after a few years by itself because wow, i dont want to smell bad like that ever again, just having it again for one more week would be hell. I have so many traumatic memories of random strangers holding their noses while giving me judging looks, classmates trying to bully me into killing myself, girls being repulsed by me, losing all my friends… Doctors always just gave me puzzled looks when i described it to them, but yeah the AI knew immediately what it was and it matches perfectly. At least now the suffering I had to endure has a name and it's not just this weird, hard to grasp curse by the universe that it was before to me. Now I can explain to people what happened and there is no shame attached anymore, because now it is beyond doubt that it was not due to lacking hygiene. Tbh more than anything I just really, really grieve for the person I could have been. At that time 10-12 years old I came out of my shell more and more, I started being the class clown because making jokes came so effortlessly to me. And exactly the time I was riding a wave of popularity this curse came and ruined my life. Since then I've become a meek, inhibited shadow of myself, who can never be himself because he is so desperate to catch just a drop of approval by other people. Since 12 years old my life has been dominated by thinking about what will make others approve of me most and being afraid of doing anything wrong, never even thinking about what it is that I really want to say or do, in my mind I never had a high enough status that would allow me to be myself. The healing only really started maybe two or three years ago and it's been a hard road so far. Despite knowing I dont smell anymore I could never leave the house between 16 and 24 for anything but school and work, I was too afraid of everybody. It is somewhat better now, I even travelled the world last year, but yeah, it's still constantly hard. There's no point to this post, this is just my story.

it has to begin w/ a c because my name is claire and my siblings names are charles, cate, and carol
(ITS FEM)
View Poll

Trigger warnings: depression, emotional, mental and physical abuse, child abuse, abortions, suicide idealations and attempts.
Backstory: I was diagnosed with epilepsy when I was 13 years old, although some doctors believe I'd been having seizures since I was as young as 6 or 7. I was also diagnosed with manic depression/bipolar disorder when I was 16.
At 21 I gave birth to my first daughter, M. A little under two years later I had my second daughter, A. The first pregnancy wasn't easy and I had a lot of seizures during the course of the pregnancy. Many trips to the hospital to make sure baby was safe. But after I gave birth I jumped straight into motherhood. I lived roughly 4 hours away from my parents and struggled with feeling homesick frequently. I called my dad daily for parenting advice, to vent, to update him, and also to help subside that homesick feeling. Regardless though, I was a very attentive and active mom. I spent all of my time with M. She was my best friend. I LOVED being a mom and I was THRIVING. After M turned 1, I moved back "home" and moved back in with my parents. My second pregnancy was much the same. Uncomfortable pregnancy, many seizures. However with this pregnancy I had some complications that caused A to be born 10 weeks early. This caused A to spend the first several months of her life in the nicu and even had to have gastral intestinal surgery before she was even 4 months old. Due to my epilepsy I do not drive, but I did everything I could in my power to see my A as frequently and for as long as I could. Visiting hours were somewhat restricting though.
At some point in time I started displaying symptoms of postpartum depression that was heavily exasperated by my manic depression. I was at an all time low. The physical pain of a depression that immense had crippled me. I felt like I had concrete in my veins. Just getting up and going to the bathroom was an exhausting task. I spent most of my days sleeping as an escape from the pain and exhaustion. Thankfully I lived with my parents, my younger daughters father (J), and some of my sisters. I would say I had plenty of help and support, but a more accurate statement would be "the children were looked after". I on the other hand was mocked, teased and belittled at every opportunity. At the time I thought nothing of it. I thought "that's just how my family is" I was raised with the motto "the more I tease you, the more I love you". Before my dad knew I was pregnant (I kept it a secret for 18 weeks because J was pressuring me to get an unwanted abortion.) my dad pointed to my stomach one morning and said "you know, some situps would help with that" I was devastated, already feeling fat and disgusting, and went to my room to cry.
Without me even realizing it, the negative comments and belittling nature of my family took a toll on me and I was getting deeper and deeper into my depression without a light at the end of the tunnel. I HATED myself for not being able to get up and play with my children. I couldn't understand how I could be so active and attentive with M at that age but I just didn't have it in me for A. I felt like I'd failed her in so many ways. I tried my best to find solutions to the problem. Often times I'd try to find games to play with them that involved me lying or at least sitting on the couch. Puzzles, coloring, movies, cars. Anything low impact, but kids want to run and play and be active.. I felt like the worst mom of all times and I wasn't being told differently by those around me. In fact my greatest fears were being confirmed daily. One day I finally broke and had a full mental breakdown in front of my mom. I had confessed to my mom that I was having suicidal idealations. I knew deep down I didn't want to end my life, but I wanted the pain to stop. I couldn't breathe under the weight of my depression and I desperately needed help. I sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, confessing all of my deepest darkest thoughts and feelings at that time. My mom, in my opinion, brushed me off and said "well look into counseling or something" and then walked away, while I stayed sitting against our front door, crying my heart out. I felt devastated. All I wanted was a hug and some comfort but it was clear I was barking up the wrong tree. I got myself together, went upstairs, and went to sleep in order to escape the heartbreak and numb myself again. This entire timeline is a blur to me, so I'm not sure how much time passed between my melt down and this next conversation, but I feel like it was less than a week when my mom sat me down to have a conversation about the girls.
She suggested to me that my parents take temporary custody of the girls until I was able to "get on my feet". She kept pushing this narrative that it was what was best for the girls and their safety. She used my epilepsy as an excuse. Telling me that it was unsafe for the girls to be under my care when my epilepsy was so unpredictable. She also used my mental health, feeding into all of my fears and my own perceived shortcomings. A decent way into the conversation, my dad joined us. His whole demeanor radiated "this is a waste of my time. Just do what we say so I can go do other things" but maybe that was me reading too deeply into his behavior. Once he sat down it felt like my mom leaned even deeper into this narrative that they were clearly the better option for the girls wellbeing, but it would only be for a short time and that they were mainly concerned with the girls quality of life. I really struggled with what to do. I already felt like I was failing my children because I was so mentally and emotionally drained and detached. I didn't want to abandon them or lose them, but I also didn't want to harm them in the ways I had been harmed growing up. I figured my mom knew best because she had been in my shoes for all of my childhood. The vast majority of memories I have of my mom are of her sleeping on the couch, or raging out over the most minuscule things. I didn't want my children raised like that... So reluctantly, I agreed, truly believing I was doing a selfless thing and putting my children first. (This would later be used against me at every opportunity) I signed a piece of computer paper that my mom had scribbled an agreement on, stating that I was signing over temporary custody of my kids to my parents, with the understanding that I would get full custody back at an undisclosed time.
One day while I was down the road at a friend's house, my mom called me frantic, demanding I get home immediately. I rushed up to the house to find out that A's dad, J, had her wrapped in three blankets, in her car seat (it's the only place she would sleep). She was drenched in sweat (apparently new borns aren't supposed to sweat, especially not that much) and she was crying hysterically due to discomfort. J was irate, screaming at her and aggressively shaking the car seat. My mom said she heard him scream "shut the fck up or I'm going to *unalive you". She was under the impression that him and I were arguing again, and had come to break up the fight. (This always seemed odd to me seeing as how she never once intervened in our arguments before) When she realized I wasn't home and he was talking to A, she grabbed A and went downstairs. As she walked down the hall, j punched a hole in the wall near her head. He claimed he was "only trying to scare her" because she was "stealing his child from him" I was outraged and mortified. I tried multiple times to leave him and kick him out, but I had no support from my family. At one point I even resorted to packing up all of his belongings and throwing them out on the lawn. I'm not proud of that but I felt I had no other choice, and rushed to lock the doors when he went to get his things. My sister promptly unlocked the door and let him back in, claiming I was "acting psychotic" I felt trapped... But I had grown up around this behavior. My dad was an angry drunk and I had grown up believing that those behaviors were "passion" rather than aggression. So I accepted my fait and went on as if nothing had happened, certain that this would be the rest of my life.
One day when J was driving me to work we got into an argument and he repeatedly told me "your dad was right. You should do the world a favor and just unalive yourself. Everyone would be a lot happier" he kept repeating it over and over until I finally had it. He pulled up to a stop sign and I got out of the car and started walking down the road. He immediately started freaking out, begging me to get back in the car, using everything he could think of to manipulate me into getting back into the car. I finally caved and got back in. J dropped me off at work and as I got out of the car I told him "we're over. I'm breaking up with you". I closed the door before he could say a word and walked into work feeling like I was on cloud 9. It felt like all of my troubles had been wiped away. When I got inside, I told a friend what happened and explained that I didn't want to go home that night because I knew a guilt trip was waiting for me when I got there. I knew there would be an argument that would last hours and I would finally break due to exhaustion and would inevitably take him back. My coworker seemed to understand and let me stay at his house as long as I needed.
I called my mom and told her what had happened. I begged and pleaded with her to kick J out, but she refused. She was concerned that he'd try to take A if she kicked him out. I told her I was certain he wouldn't. He only ever cared about himself and his own self preservation. A baby would only make things harder for him and it was a responsibility and a role he didn't even want in the first place. I told her J had spent 18 weeks pressuring me to abort A and was evening willing to drive me out of state to get the procedure done, until I finally put my foot down and told him no, I was keeping my baby. I stayed away for 2 full weeks, the entire time begging and pleading with my family. Pointing out his abusive tendencies and his history with verbal and physical abuse and outbursts. My mom held her ground and refused to help me in any capacity. Every time M asked where I was, my mom would say "your mom's at work" rather than have her call me and talk to me. This created a lot of psychological trauma for M. She had severe seperstion anxiety, having panic attacks any time someone had to leave the house, convinced that if they left they'd never return. Still to this day she has abandonment issues as well as severe panic attacks.
After two weeks, I started coming over for visits but I never moved back in. During this time, J informed me that he was talking to another girl. He made it abundantly clear that she was 16. He was roughly 25 or 26 at the time. I later found out that they weren't talking. In fact, she had a boyfriend who was age appropriate, but J had been going and telling their entire friend group that they had been messing around together. I was then informed by my younger sibling L, that J had made advances on her that she quickly shut down. I think she was roughly 18 at the time. When this didn't pan out and J didn't get the reactions he expected from myself or L, he moved on. Years later I was told the same time xact story by both J and my oldest sister Al. "We had been hanging out, drinking, smoking. Ya know, the usual. And then well... Because I was so inebriated, they took advantage of me and we slept together" Knowing the both of them well enough, I knew it was consensual and they were just embarrassed and scared of my reaction. I laughed and told them they deserved one another.
As you can imagine, J's questionable life choices caught up with him and he was rejected from every friend group he had, to the point where he left the state and broke all contact with myself, and my family. It was a weight off my shoulders when he was finally gone. At that point I had gotten my own apartment but it was the first time I lived alone, paying my own bills, and I was not good at it. I was missing bill payments left and right. My power was shut off in the middle of winter and before long I was evicted. I was homeless and asked my parents if I could move home. They said no, that it would be too confusing for the girls if I moved back in with them. I ended up staying with friends on the couch in a one bedroom. It was extremely uncomfortable, but I had a roof over my head. When their lease was up, they invited me to get a new place with them. I agreed and I started learning about finances and how to be a functioning part of society.
My parents said I was welcome to visit the girls any time I wanted, but when I'd ask, it was a whole ordeal and guilt trip because they had to come pick me up and refused to bring my kids to my place. They said the car ride was too much for the girls to handle. Mind you, Ms dad B, still lives 4 hours away. My parents regularly drive both of my daughters up to see B and his parents whenever Bs parents request it. However, a 30 minute drive was asking far too much of such young and fragile children. When I argued that point they would use other excuses why they would not be bringing my children to see me. Once again I felt powerless and like a bad mom, being paraded by my parents for not being more active in my kids lives, but when I tried to make the effort it was scorned and met with negativity.
I self isolated for awhile, but still tried to be apart of my children's lives.
Over the years I've brought up the custody agreement, pointing out that it was supposed to only be temporary. I think my parents got frustrated with this because once the girls started school, my mom pressured me to sign over full custody, claiming it would make filling out paperwork a lot easier on my parents. But it was still only temporary, supposedly. Again, I continued to press for custody back and I would be met with argument after argument, bombarded with all of my shortcomings. On multiple occasions my mom told me "if you take custody of the girls back it will destroy mine and your father's marriage. Some days the girls are the only thing keeping us together" I was also told "if you take custody back it will literally kill your father. He won't survive." A year or so ago I told my mom we needed to go to therapy because I could not speak to her without a mediator. She finally agreed and we had two sessions. The first of which she cried her eyes out, telling the therapist that she's always done her absolute best for us kids and that we never appreciate anything she's done for us. She said "I took on the responsibility of raising two young children while she was out there f*cking anyone and everyone she wanted" mind you, during the time frame she was talking about, I had one intimate partner. When I confronted her about it outside of the session she said "I said that to highlight the poor life choices you were making at the time"
Fast-forward to now, A and I have a good relationship, but she's closest to my dad over everyone. M and I still have an incredibly tight bond though. She tells me everything. I'm her best friend.
The things she's been telling me the last couple of years are bringing up a lot of PTSD and trauma for me from my childhood. It's been opening my eyes to the level of mental abuse I suffered at the hands of my parents.
At this point you're probably thinking what I thought for most of my life. "This girl's mom sounds like a monster" It wasn't until recently that my father's facade was irreversibly shattered in my eyes. M had come to me and asked "what would you say if I asked to be called unisex name". I told her "I wouldn't say anything. I'd just call you by the name you chose. I love you no matter what I call you. I will always love you no matter what. There's nothing in this world that will change that, especially not a name." In time M came to me and said "how would you react if I told you I like girls" I said "the same way I reacted when you wanted to change your name. I will always accept, support and love you, no matter what"
She had gone to my mom with the same questions and my mom had roughly the same response. My dad on the other hand had a much more viseral response. When the name was brought up, he hit the roof, yelling "I'm not having another kid try and change their name. That's stupid. You have a name." (L changed their name when they were in school and my father always hated it and still refuses to call L by their chosen name) When the topic of sexual preference was broached he'd just roll his eyes, huff and act like M was being stupid and childish. As I touched up on previously, M has severe panic attacks. I can relate because I also suffer from them and they were extremely bad around the same age that M is now. From things M had told me in passing I'm under the impression that she was being bullied at school. Every morning was a struggle. She would beg my parents to let her stay home. If it was up to my mom, she'd get frustrated and give in, saying "whatever. Do whatever you want. You do anyway. None of you ever listen to me or respect anything I say" and M would go lie in bed and call me crying that she "upset nana" If it were my dad however, he'd yell at her to get her @$$ in the car and that he wasn't dealing with her $ht. She would have full fledged panic attacks in the car to which he would yell and scream at her to knock off the teenage bllsh*t and to suck it up. One day he even threatened to institutionalize her if this behavior continued. She called me, mid breakdown, telling me everything that had happened and asked me "what even does that mean? Is he gonna lock me up in a psych ward because I'm having panic attacks?" I assured her that no one was doing any such thing. I then called my parents and tore into them for treating her like that. My skin was crawling, I was so appalled at his behavior.
He tries his best to mask his negativity and what I consider to be narcissistic tendencies. He went from being an angry alcoholic to being a sober helpful part of the church he attends. I told my mom recently that I believe he swapped one addiction for another. He portrays this happy healthy life and family all over social media, showing my kids off to the people at his church, claiming they're his kids. So much so to the point that I had attended a few services and people thought I was their sister, not their mom, because my dad refuses to refer to them as his grandchildren. He's even taken it so far as to claim that he BIRTHED them. I don't know what level of psychosis it takes for a man to claim that he carried two children in his womb, but that's besides the point.
Also to Ms detriment, he will tease her about her weight, her eating habits, her sleeping habits. He will also make snide comments about LGBTQ+ related and adjacent topics.
L, had also suffered this same emotional and mental abuse for years from our dad and subsequently my mom who is too scared of my dad to stand up for her own beliefs. L finally made the difficult decision to go no contact for their mental health. This was extra difficult for them because that meant they had less access to their nieces and nephew, but they had to do what was best for their mental state and they took a step back. At one point my dad had brought L up, calling them by their dead name and misgendering them. When M corrected my dad he scoffed and said "people who change their names and gender are just people who weren't loved enough as a child" M responded with "k.." and went to her room to call me, explaining how incredibly offensive that statement was, especially seeing as how that's his own child. She said "who's fault is it if L wasn't loved enough as a child?" (She's extremely aware for her age)
I got a phone call from A one afternoon. She was crying and told me "I'm just sad because I'm never going to see L again because she abandoned us." I asked who told her that and she said "papa said dead name abandoned us because she doesn't care about the family anymore" I explained that none of that was true and that L missed them very much, and wanted to see them very much.
I spoke to L regularly about the situation at hand, being as supportive as possible while trying to stay out of the family drama. After months of distancing themselves from our parents, they came to me for help and guidance. They wanted to have dinner with our parents to try and mend their relationships. However they were scared of the response they would receive, so I offered to be the buffer and reach out on their behalf.
My mom's response was perfect. She said "I would love to have dinner with them. Tell me when and where" My dad's response was less ideal. He said "we would love to have dinner with her. If she's ready to respect our family and our beliefs we would be happy to have dinner with her" I lost it on him. I told him that I was sick and tired of his behavior. He puts on a holier than thou facade but he doesn't actually act very christ like in reality. I pointed out that when the prodigal son returned he wasn't met with "are you ready to ahere to our rules and regulations now? Are you prepared to act the way that we want you to? If you are then you can come home, but if not, get out" he was welcomed home with open arms, regardless of anything he had done or said. He replied with "I had a gut feeling that I shouldn't have responded to that text. I should've listened to that gut instinct"
I've gone no contact with him since that argument, but as you can imagine, that was just the straw that broke the camel's back.
On mother's day, my dad was out of town but my girls went to church with my mom. There was a guest speaker who had an extremely antitrans message. The way my mom explained it was "if your kid comes out as trans, you're a failure as a mom" I was dumbfounded to hear that they'd have a message like that at all, but especially on mother's day, shaming parents, but specifically mom's, into rejecting their children's self identification, as if one person has control over another person's identity. M told me she didn't ever want to go back. I told her I understood and I'd do my best to make sure she didn't have to.
Today is my birthday and my girls are coming over. M texted me this morning saying "I'm getting ready for church. I was told that if I wanted to go to my mom's house, I had to go to church first" This used to be a place that she felt safe and happy in and now it's become a place of contention for her. She'll ask my mom if she can stay home (never my dad) and although my mom usually caves and lets her stay home, it's always with some stipulation.
My dad is a controlling, manipulative, homophobic, close minded fraud of a Christian who is emotionally and mentally harming and abusing my children, and my mom isn't much safer for either of them, always siding with my dad out of fear and exhaustion.
I desperately want to remove them from this situation and regain full custody but I don't know where to start. I work two jobs in order to make ends meet. I'm behind on my rent. I have to take buses and Ubers everywhere I go. I have a very small two bedroom apartment (the girls each have their own rooms at my parents house). They have friends and a sense of community where they are, with a nice sized backyard, a trampoline, two of my three siblings are close by so they get to see their cousins daily. I don't want to rip them away from the only home they've known for years. I don't want to uproot them and disrupt the little amount of structure they do have. I don't even know how I would manage two jobs as well as a 10 and a 12 year old, but I also don't want to leave them in this toxic suffocating and damaging environment when all along I thought it was a better and safer environment for them than what I had to offer.
I feel like I'm still brainwashed to some extent by my parents, second guessing my abilities as a mom. Telling myself I'm not capable of the things I need to do for these girls. I'm at a loss for what to do at this point. Do I fight for custody back? Do I leave them as they are? Do I continue to try and advocate for them even though it either falls on deaf ears or makes matters so much worse, because that frustration is then taken out on my kids?

Some background:
Ive had 3 relationships in my life so far. My last relationship of 4 years which I ended back in January after already being mentally checked out for nearly a year has made me make the decision to not date until next year and focus on my personal goals(new apartment, new job, finally drivers license, mental healing).
I work a pretty well paying job for my age but it leaves me with very little mental energy for private life. I still found it difficult to not have certain needs met and opted to meet an escort I randomly found online in april.
This girl blew my mind the moment I saw her. I haven’t felt this way since my first girlfriend/love when I was in my early 20s and to be very honest did not know I was ever capable of feeling this way again. So much that I am crying of being overwhelmed with strong feelings while writing this.
Everything from the deep conversations about relationships, interests, feelings, ukraine- russia war we had, sex, hugs, kisses and chemistry were just perfect.
A bit more information on her: She started escorting last year in november. She just broke up with her bf last week and is also dealing with her own depression and told me she also was working on herself before she thought she should be in a relationship. She is from Ukraine and loves her country and spends a good portion of her earnings to support her country. She said she could never permantly live in another country and work there and the escort work she is doing now is temporary.
Fast forward to yesterday I found out she was in my country again and I decided to meet her again and stay overnight. We had sex went out and did things together couples would do. We held hands, she put her head on my shoulder and gave me kisses and I guided her to do fun things in the city of amsterdam which she didnt even have the time to do because she was working the whole time. I understand this is part of her job, but the chemistry I felt led me to think whether it was really her just doing her job.
The next day we had lunch together and we both shared our real names with each other. Before we parted ways we hugged and I couldnt help myself do something stupid.
I told her I wanted to share my contact information with her(which she doesnt have because she has someone arranging her appointments for her) and that if she ever wanted to see me or contact again she could do so. I told her I wouldnt ask for her contact details and therefore not put her in a position where she would have to share her contact details with someone who she wasnt interested in outside of work.
I noticed the response was met with hesitation and that she needed to check with her manager whether that was ok. She did consider linking on instagram and therefore also sharing her personal info, before she just opted to save my nr in her phone.
I already feel like an idiot doing so, but I had to give it a shot.
I am meeting her coming tuesday again just for a couple of hours and I am wondering how I should handle this situation the right way. Am I being just stupid for wanting to be so badly with someone?

Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
[First] [Previous]
---
Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: November 30th, 2136
​
“Wait”. The voice is so sudden I don’t even realize it’s my own at first.
Mosun looks up at me, confused. I’m confused too. Thiva’s right in there. I want to storm in, but there’s something wrong, there’s
A recording of a crying baby
I shake my head and step back, motioning for him to follow me.
Another scream echoes through the hall. Mosun swallows, but lets go of the handle.
Think. You’re in charge of a bunch of terrorists all gung-ho to go Helter Skelter on humanity. You’re a sadistic alien psychopath. You mutilate animals. You keep trophies. You don’t give a damn about your sister. You kill humans. Your tools for that are firebombs that go off when they open doors, and recordings of vulnerable things in distress.
But why here? Why set the trap here? Taking her to a second location makes more sense. Why your base, or this close to it? Why are you luring the human here?
It’s not because he’s here too soon. You expected the warpath right away. You know their empathy and protective instincts overrides their rationality. You might not have expected him to gather a posse, but you know the humans are social animals. You had to know it was a possibility.
So why… Here…
Mosun whispers. “Martin, what’s the matter? Why aren’t we going in?”
There’s something I’m missing. Think. Think! You were happy to get the first human kills while you weren’t even in the area. You might’ve placed the traps or had your mooks do it but either way you were fine with being absent when they went off. Why is this time different?
It’s because the humans were gathered in one place, isn’t it? The fire wasn’t about killing us. It was about scattering us and leaving us solitary enough to hunt. Or maybe... Maybe it didn’t satisfy, didn’t scratch that itch. No trophies, no mutilations.
Because you are a predator. An ambush predator. You want to be close to the trap, like a spider. You want to look the human in the eyes as he dies, and take something to remember the kill by.
You’re here, somewhere.
​
I swallow, and look at the door. It slides open, like almost all Venlil doors.
Alright, time to Human.
I take the strap to my rifle, and gingerly unsling it from the weapon. I grab one of my last zip ties and loop it around the handle, and in the buckle of the strap.
Mosun flicks his ear in a Venlil-esque sign for understanding and agreement at once, and moves down the hallway. I follow him.
The strap and zip-tie together are perhaps two meters in length, so with a bit of an annoyed grunt I take off my belt and add that to the makeshift rope. That gives me a little under a meter extra.
I hand the rifle to Mosun, and hold a hand up to him while clutching the rope in the other.
Three. Two. One.
I close my eyes and turn away in one single motion, tugging at the door handle. As soon as the door parts from the frame there’s a blast, sending me and Mosun to the ground. The air stinks of wood-pulp, smoke, and dust.
Jesus Christ!!
My ears are ringing as I get on my unsteady feet and grasp the rifle from Mosun, stumbling my way to the ruined doorway and peering inside.
The room is empty but for shrapnel and debris and a cloud of dust. None of it looks like it was alive.
Oh thank God, the bastards weren’t using live bait.
With the high-pitched ringing slowly subsiding I take a few steps down the hall, before falling to one knee from disorientation.
I don’t hear the Exterminator storm up the stairs. But I see them just fine.
​
The visor’s reflective. The armor’s bulky. The flamethrower’s lit.
With Mosun behind me in the small hallway, there’s nowhere to run. No time to think.
This isn’t aiming at someone’s back, or a sleeping and prone body. I don’t have time to hesitate, so I don’t.
I start shooting from the hip and raise the gun to my shoulder while firing. The weapon jumps in my hand with each pull of the trigger, and from my awkward stance I have quantity stand in for quality. Wood splinters fly from the wall behind the Exterminator, who jerks as some of the shots strike true.
After swaying for a second and losing their grip on their flamethrower, they tumble right down the stairs. The weapon clatters down after them, connected to their fuel tank.
I get to my feet and try to rush over to the stairs. I slam into the wall for my trouble, but get my bearings and raise the rifle.
The Exterminator’s laying prone at the foot of the stairs. They stir weakly and move a paw toward their weapon.
I fire another salvo of rounds. The sound echoes and makes my ears hurt even worse than the blast already did. The Exterminator jerks a couple of times, lets out a shuddering breath, and then goes still.
They’re dead. This is it. I killed someone.
I expect it to hit me like a sledgehammer. I expect to end up doubled over, hurling my guts out. That’s what you always see in the movies.
Instead my response is as anticlimactic as the killing itself: I just hope it was Renak.
​
I feel Mosun’s hand on my back. He speaks with quiet sympathy. “…Are you alright?”
I sigh slowly. “Yeah… Yeah. Predator, remember?”
Some of his usual energy creeps back into his voice. “Oh, I see how it is. You get to say it.”
We head down the stairs while I fiddle with my makeshift rope to restore my belt and rifle sling to their proper places. The sling needs to be tied into a knot to be put to use, as the buckle is beyond saving. “Yeah. I’m sure I’ll break down later, but for now we have a- MOVE!!”
I see a cylinder about half the size of a Pringles can roll into the room, and push Mosun forcibly into the kitchen. To his credit he doesn’t question it, instead lunging past me.
Instead of a pipe bomb blast as I had feared, the grenade starts leaking thick white smoke.
They don’t have CS gas and that thing looked homemade. So probably phosphorous.
I look around the kitchen desperately before finding a salad bowl in the dishes. I immediately turn the faucet to full blast to fill the bowl with water while the hissing grenade spreads its noxious fumes. I can start to smell and taste the acrid, garlic-like stench. My body starts coughing, my eyes watering and lungs itching.
Yeah. Phosphorous. Fuck.
Mosun coughs a few times and tries to cover his mouth with his arm. “What are you d-doing?!”
As soon as there’s enough water in the bowl, I turn around and lunge at the grenade. Using an awkward double-handed dunking motion, I trust centripetal force to make it work as I flip the water-filled bowl and slam it down around the grenade.
There’s a mess of sloshing, and a lot of hissing, but no more gas escapes. Water slowly starts to leak out from the bowl’s edges, but by the time it’s done it’ll have stopped the reaction.
“Mosun, w-wash your… Oh FUCK OFF!!”
Halfway through my statement I see another Exterminator enter the room. They step over their fellow’s body without a glance and raise their flamethrower toward us.
I raise my rifle in turn and begin firing: three shots in rapid succession.
Before I’ve had time to adjust my aim they’ve already disappeared from view down the hallway beside the stairs, long tail visible for a split second before vanishing. I’ve never seen a Venlil move as sinuously and quickly as that.
​
I cough a couple of times and wipe my eyes. It doesn’t help. When Mosun appears with a glass of water however, I can dump it directly onto my face. My stinging eyes cry out with relief.
After just a few seconds of exposure to the gas, I’d love a date with an eyewash station. But it’ll have to wait.
Mosun takes the lead wordlessly, motioning with a paw for me to follow. So I do, stepping over my kill in the process. Unlike the Exterminator, I can’t help but look down at it.
There’s so much less blood than I expected.
As Mosun rounds the corner into the next room, he’s forced into an awkward duck against the doorway as a stun rod swishes through the air. He kicks out at the assailant with a growl, and lunges forward into the other room.
I follow as quickly as I can.
In the living room, the two are already locked in a brawl. Mosun’s shorter than the Exterminator, and has less range.
I make a guess and try to distract them. If the Yotul gives me some distance I can shoot. “Renak!”
The Exterminator freezes for a split second, and Mosun gets a good kick in.
Guess that’s you then, motherfucker.
Renak rolls with the kick and manages to get Mosun’s leg caught in his arm. The stun rod swings down, and Mosun’s forced to block it with his arm. The electricity courses through him and he gasps out, dropping to a knee.
Without a good angle, I drop the rifle and trust my sling to keep it from hitting the ground. Instead I charge in to join the fray.
​
With a wild and poorly planned left hook, I manage to get Renak to take a single step back. Enough for Mosun to rise to unsteady legs. The little badass weaves a few times as he moves into an elegant-looking stance. “Ambush, ambush, ambush. You only know the one trick, huh?”
In response, Renak drops into his own stance. The stun rod’s held in one paw, high near his shoulder. The other paw’s held outward in a warding gesture.
Feeling left out, I get into a boxer’s stance. Though all this excitement’s making the wounds on my right arm ache and act up.
The three of us are still for a moment. “…There’s just you left, Renak. Your terrorist group’s done for.” Technically there’s one other Exterminator left unaccounted for. But I don’t see a reason to tell him that.
He tilts his head toward me for a second. I see myself reflected in the visor.
Mosun’s the first to move, lunging in low. I charge in right after. Renak doesn’t step back, instead swinging the rod down.
Mosun leans back so far he’s almost prone, using his tail and one arm as leverage to kick up at Renak’s arm and stop the descending blow. The movement is beautiful, and wouldn’t look out of place in some sort of Capoeira. By all rights it should break the arm, but the heavy Exterminator armor takes most of the force.
I come in with my own simple straight punch with my left, but I overextend and Renak swats it aside sharply with his own free arm. Instead of relenting, I jab with my right. I catch him on the shoulder and do little damage.
Renak shifts his stance and raises his baton to swing it downward at me. Mosun moves to intercept, but Renak’s leg lashes out and catches Mosun’s knee from the side. The swing that was coming my way turns into a descending thrust at the Yotul, who gets the baton jabbed straight into his torso.
Mosun’s shriek fills the room as he thrashes under the coruscating electrical blow, and I strike Renak with everything I’ve got in a desperate and unrefined haymaker.
I catch the bastard right in the visor and hear a loud sound. It hurts. Renak staggers back with a yelp, dropping the stun rod, and turns to look squarely at me. I’ve cracked his visor, and probably broken a finger or two in the bargain.
I stare for the length of a breath at the cracks in the reflective surface, seeing my own rage reflected in a dozen fractured images.
​
Renak calmly reaches behind him and pulls out his sidearm. He doesn’t even glance aside as he extends his arm and puts two bullets into Mosun. The gunshots echo in the enclosed space.
“NO!!” I hear myself shouting as I fumble for my rifle. Renak turns his arm toward me and fires again. I hear the crack and a whistle as a bullet flies right past my head.
A second bullet whizzes past and strikes the door frame, tumbling past with a ricochet whine. It missed only because I’m falling to one knee.
With my own rifle raised, I return fire. We’re firing at each other from mere feet away. I fire three times. I miss the first shot, but the second hits him in the thigh. The third takes him in the side somewhere.
He’s spun around, but empties the gun in my direction as he staggers into a dash out of the room, toward the basement.
It’s only when I rise to my feet that I realize I’ve been shot too. My left leg burns, and can’t carry my weight. I awkwardly hop over to Mosun and kneel to investigate his wounds.
​
His collarbone’s been shattered by one bullet. Another has caught him on the inside of the shoulder. I don’t know Yotul anatomy, but I’m guessing if it’s caught a lung or an artery he’s in real trouble. “Come on, you can’t leave me alone here; you’re the only one I can talk to.”
He takes a slow breath and doesn’t even bother trying to get up. He simply looks at me and plainly says “Ow.”
I can breathe again. The wound’s leaking, but not spurting. Oh thank God.
“Christ, okay, we gotta get you out of here. I don’t think it’s immediately fatal, but the blood loss is gonna get you if we don’t stop it.”
“Later. Get him, then help.”
I shake my head. “I can’t just-”
He swats at me with his good arm. “Not safe to extract. And still need the girl.”
I look around and end up taking a blanket folded over the couch and handing it to him. “Press this into the wounds, as hard as you can. I’ll be back.”
“Y-You better be. I’ll be upset if you m-make me walk back to the truck on my own.”
I get up and grasp my rifle, and limp my way after Renak.
Unless he’s got another ambush planned in the basement, Thiva is his last chance. And the bastard knows it.
​
I make my way down the basement steps, but it’s slow going. I have to use my injured right arm to brace myself, holding the rifle ahead with the left. My adrenaline’s starting to go down enough that the leg is starting to really hurt. So’s my left hand.
At the foot of the stairs, Renak’s discarded the helmet. The room contains several boxes of explosives, and flamethrowers.
Their weapons stores. Great.
In the middle of the room there’s a chair. Bound to it is Thiva. She’s got cuts and bruises over her body, and her beautiful fur is matted orange all over.
Behind her stands Renak. He’s got a knife to her throat.
I raise the rifle and stare right at Renak. “Let the girl go.”
Thiva gasps out as she sees me. “Martin!” She tries to lean forward, but the blade presses harder into her neck and she shrinks back into the chair.
Renak stares back at me, head-on and with both eyes. When he speaks, his voice is emotionless and without inflection. He sounds bored. “Move a muscle, predator, and Thiva dies.”
I look at my friend. She looks terrified. “Hey Thiva, don’t worry. I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. Alright?”
She gives the tiniest nod.
Renak growls. “Look at me, predator.”
My eyes shift back to his again. They’re dull and empty. Just black beads of glass set into his face. It’s like looking at a machine. A complex structure, but no soul animating it.
My leg is trembling, and I feel hot and sticky blood running down it. “You don’t need the girl. You can just let her go, and we can leave, and nobody else needs to die.”
He blinks slowly. “My sister is better off dead than as a predator’s mate. If I can’t save her body from you, I can save her honor.” To emphasize his point, he lets the knife dig further into her throat. I see some orange running down it, and the fur beneath Thiva’s eyes are damp with tears.
My breathing is heavy, and my aim is shaky. “I stormed a terrorist compound to get this far. I’m not leaving without her. You can have her over my dead body.”
​
He stares silently for a moment. “Fair enough.”
He raises his other arm toward me with a smooth and mechanical motion. His sidearm is in it.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet takes him in the head. With his strings cut, he drops in a heap.
​
I drop the rifle and rush forward to undo Thiva’s bindings. As soon as I do, her arms fly around me painfully tightly. I return the hug as best I can.
“Thiva, listen to me. Can you walk?”
She gets up and winces, but nods. “Y-yeah.”
“Okay, good. There’s a Yotul upstairs named Mosun. He needs immediate medical attention. We’ve got a truck waiting, we’re gonna head up and get both of you out there.”
One of her eyes suddenly moves up and stares behind me. I turn in place.
Vansi’s standing in stairway, taking in the scene.
“Thiva… Go. Now. Now!” I rise to my feet and put a hand on her back, walking alongside her for a few steps before she rushes the rest of the way past her mother and up the stairs.
Vansi doesn’t move to stop her. She just stares at the crumpled corpse behind us.
It’s only after I take another step that her eyes snap to me with fury.
And I realize my rifle’s right at her feet.
​
She snatches it up into trembling paws and aims it right at me.
“Vansi, listen, I-”
The weapon goes off.
I fall to my knees. My hands reach my stomach and feel sticky and wet.
She pulls the trigger again, and it clicks dry. She pulls another few times, but it’s empty.
​
I rise to my feet and try to lunge past her. But she simply swings the empty rifle at me. It hits my wounded stomach, and I fall to my side. She swings it down on me several more times, snarling and cursing, until the weapon breaks enough that she simply tosses what’s left aside.
It hurts. Jesus Christ it hurts so fucking bad.
I try to think of a way out of this as she staggers past me toward her son. I try to get to my feet again, but fail. I drag myself to the wall, and use it to pull myself up bit by bit. I limp along the wall, smearing trails of my own blood with my hands as I go.
I’m almost at the stairs when I hear an inarticulate scream and feel agony blooming out from my right side. I look down and see the knife, in Vansi’s paws.
Fuck.
​
I collapse on the ground and try to fend her off with my hands. She stabs me straight through the palm of my right hand, then stabs twice more at my left arm and shoulder. My left arm doesn’t respond to my signals, simply flopping down limply.
With only one chance left, I punch her with my right. Again and again, while she stabs at my torso.
There’s a cold math to blood loss. The more you lose, the weaker you get.
‘So you see, that's how I am going to die.’
Each of my blows does less than the last. My hands and feet feel ice cold, while my chest burns.
‘I'll sneeze in the sunlight, or turn my head a bit too fast when someone wants my attention from my blind spot’
Before long I can’t fight back. I simply lay still and hear my flesh tearing and Vansi screaming in my ears.
‘or show happiness with a smile or a laugh’
I can’t lift a finger or even turn my head as Vansi staggers off of me. My shallow breaths are agony, and I can feel one of my lungs has collapsed.
‘or god forbid I might try to save a life again.’
She returns with something else in her hands. I close my eyes.
‘And then someone like your son will show up and burn me alive for it.’
/// ERROR /// Memory transcription fragmented /// Subject no longer conscious.
---
[First] [Previous]

Girl's father remarries(?) and she moves to a convent (?) but she goes on the road after saving the boy.
Father is a serial womanizer who is being hunted by a man named Skinner.
Girl goes to a Halloween party dresses as the little match girl. I think the theme of the party was literature.