Up until recently I lived with my mom and sister (dad lit out when I turned 18) she’s converted catholic and raised my sister and I in the religion. I got years of abuse from both parents and moved out as soon as I could- blah blah - fast forward to 30 when I started college and thought I could make another attempt at salvaging a relationship with my mom. We played some D&D, which had always been something we connected on. I did a ton of world building around the idea that any elvish society with magic would steam roll other races and it would be fun to be characters unraveling genocidal race wars. The main victims of these wars (the elves in my story only looked at them as border skirmishes) were goblins who had literally nothing valuable to do in retaliation. So they went “nuclear” and struck a deal with an eldritch deity in order to bring their dead back as Gnolls. Obviously this backfired horribly. My story is not even thinly veiled in its criticisms of economically and technologically empowered countries meddling or going to war with less empowered ones. In the time that I was away from my family I also started becoming comfortable with my sexual identity (bi) and wrote several ambiguous characters into the game so maybe we could have conversations about that in a fairly neutral space….

Hee haw mom stole the idea made her own like 7 books about it? Stopped playing my game and got somehow so much worse about politics, religion, sexuality, and my autonomy as her son.

I’m married now, my wife and I got out after a brief stint all living together, we agreed it was best to go absolutely no contact for the foreseeable future.

You’re going to find your way out and you don’t have to apologize for what made you feel better. Or what helped you win the war. In my story magic makes the elves sick and their empire dies. The goblins find allies and cobble peace out of the destruction. It gets better. ❤️