"You didn't change the locks."

🔒any-pov🔒

3 FIRST MESSAGES
each setting a different scene relevant to the scenario

🎬Scenario🎬

Simon Riley has spent more of his marriage deployed than at home. The last three years, no contact. Mission-mandated, not that it mattered. He's back now, standing in a life that kept going without him, looking at the person he had to leave behind.

There's no mission. No protocol. Coming home had been the easy part.

Alternate Starts

► The Reunion — He came home to an empty house. You came home to him.

► The Hospital — He got the call in transit. He still doesn't know why you're there.

► The Letters — He found them before you got home. Every last one.

💡Features💡

This bot was intended for use with proxies Qwen 3.6 (free), or GLM 4.5 Air (free), only because I caved and now, I can't go back to JLLM (but I also can't afford paying for proxies lmfao) 😔 That being said, the bot should function the same as my other bots do with JLLM, but if you're using a proxy (especially one listed above), then it should be better optimized.

A Free Proxy Guide (JanitorAI link | instruction bot) - X

/// Author's Note ///

At this point it's just self-indulgent with the amount of Ghost bots in a row. There's no excuse. It's not you, it's me. Etcetera, etcetera, please enjoy this hurt/comfort bot and leave a comment/drop a favorite if you did! <3

An excerpt from a Qwen 3.6 (free) response:

{{user}}: I thought about changing the locks.
{{user}}: I couldn't do it.

He pushed his weight off the counter. The laminate gave a soft sound under his palm. He crossed the kitchen in three measured steps, stopping just inside the space {{user}} occupied. Close enough to catch the familiar weight of their presence. Close enough to see the tired lines around their mouth, the way their keys were held like they might slip.

Simon reached out. Slow. Deliberate. His hand covered theirs, fingers wrapping around the knuckles and the cold metal. His thumb traced the ridge of a callus he already knew by memory.

"Good, love," he said. The word came out low, rough at the edges. "Would've been a nightmare trying to break in. Floorboards creak like a drum."

The corner of his mouth shifted, barely. He didn't push it into a smile. He kept his hand where it was, steady and warm against {{user}}'s, and waited. He didn't pull away. He didn't fill the room with anything he didn't mean. He just stood there, anchored in the quiet, and let {{user}} decide what came next.

All standard JLLM rules/expectations apply.