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cece693 · 8 days ago

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You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

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allpiesforourown · 2 months ago

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Hey, so sorry to be using your inbox like a fuckin confessional, but getting that dream thing off my chest literally cleared my skin and I've just got this itch that needs to be addressed so I'm taking it out on you again. Reflecting on this thought the second after I had it made me think, "Oh, I get what Shen Yuan was on about now," and so here I am, typing this shit out ig. fucking embarrassing, anyway.

So, like. I watch those gacha react videos on youtube. Like a concerning amount of those gacha react videos, man. I fuckin love them so much, even if I wouldn't admit to it under pain of death to anyone I know or love. I have a seperate youtube channel I made under a fake email that I made specifically to watch them. It's bad. I remember back when it was just me and the FF.net filter system before they added the 'Without' section at the bottom and trying to find crossover content in the LoZ tag between games. 10th circle of hell; my 13th reason. Gacha react videos in concept are heavensent for my inner child, and on the rare occasion I find one of those 'fandom react' series that are active or complete and well done, it grants me joy on par with nigh nothing else.

This being said, I understand that the main demographic for this content tends to be a handful of years younger than me. I've seen community posts on some channels mentioning their time in college, but these are few and far between in my experience. I appreciate these teen's artistry in putting these all together, because god knows I'm not, but like,,, --and I know I sound like an ass right now but bare with me-- it feels like with the conclusion of Arcane came a flood of reaction videos with no real substance. I've watched upward of what feels like thirty seperate videos --at least,-- on the show and its the same ten to twenty edits I've seen on repeat and I'm watching them by pressing the skip key and catching half the dialouge only to come out the other side tired and a little miffed. Then I feel bad, because they created something and all I did was mindlessly consume and feel entitled to complain. Ugh.

Now, Because I've been cycling through these almost cookie cutter videos for ages --I used Arcane vids as an example before because its recent and relevant, but I do have this take for a whole slew of the fandoms I watch react videos on, and I picked this addiction up in 2021 so it's been a minute-- I've begun predicting the dialouge before it's come up and projecting what I hope the author will say. If I see a video with, for example, Giyuu from kny seeing Sabito in a video, I hope to see shock, yes, but also to see him comment or think about how he hasn't seen his face in so long, you know? Just... things that aren't just "OMG!!" or making the characters eyes widen. I've found now that I seek out these videos for the slim chance that they'll provide me with the satisfaction I get from these moments of true understanding with the presented characters.

Yes, I know that there really isn't any "true" way to understand a character, and that while we are all entitled to our own interpretations of media, the insistence that mine alone is more "right" or "correct" is bullshit, but I'm not saying that my preference has to be law, only that I get a rush of happiness whenever something I like happens to pop up in a video that I was already checking out of because it failed to really,,,,wow me. This is my bias speaking, of course, but its also the reality of my situation borne from overconsumption of this genre.

But anyway, onto the main point of how this relates to svsss. I was watching a video just a minute ago --an Arcane video, big shocker I know-- where there was a line from the creator's Vander character about how he wasn't ready to see Vi so grown up, because to him she's still his little girl. I thought, "Yes!!! This!! He's a father! He's showing realistic reactions to seeing your child suddenly grown up, and while he's proud of the woman she became, he still loves her as she is in the moment!!" ....I then watched the rest of the reaction, and was left cold and disappointed in the end. I'd clicked for Viktor, got three videos of him in a twenty minute reaction when the rest was the same four edits of jinx on repeat. Love you Jinx, but holy fuck. I thought then, "God, what a waste of potential." The creator of the video had insightful dialouge, clearly a decent grasp on character interaction, and the drive to create the video in the first place, but settled for pumping out another copy of the same video they've released three times previous on the same channel.

Then I thought, "Oh, like PIDW."

I need to get a life, Tumblr user allpiesforourown. If your blog wasn't so damn entertaining, I might even go out and touch grass one day. Take responsibility, damn.

(ty for reading my rant, if you did. have a good day regardless.)

I think you watching gacha react videos for characterization might be the one and only thing more baffling than Shen Yuan reading porn for plot. Hope you find gacha videos of Vander teaching his daughter how to ride a bike

#not even sure what to tag this theres so much to unpack #long post

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deadpool15 · 1 year ago

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Girl please

I'm walking around trying to gather all my shit. I can't ever find shit in this bitch. "Baby, if you can't come that absolutely fine. I just thought since you were in Korea, well, you know.." I turn around and stare at the phone. "Kirsten Dogen, you sit there and pass off a fake ass undertone with me again, and you are not getting those snacks you like when I pull up. Don't throw shade at me, young lady." I hear a bunch of laughs coming from the phone which I can't really identify, I guess those are the other girls she is doing the photoshoot with. Serves her right. I don't take the back talk. "Baby, really legal government names, that's how we gonna play it." She says with a pout on that God forsaken beautiful fucking face. But I realize to back down. "And did, what's your point."

"Also, your fav boots are in our closet, in my side, sweetie," When I heard those words, I turned around, and I almost got whiplash. "Why would MY boots be on your side, huh?" She stares at me sheepishly before trying to make it seem like someone is calling her, and quickly saying she had to go. I sit there in disbelief, "I know she did not just hang up on me. And proceeded to not answer my question at that. Girl literally just cut me off like I wasn't talking." After a while of absolute bullshit I finally decided to finish getting ready. It was pretty hot in Korea, so I went for some shorts and a crop. With my favorite boots, of course. I then decided to call up Yeonjun. Me and that man had been friends ever since his family decided to randomly pull up to California for a couple of years. I showed him around, and his mom used to joke about us being together. Then he came back to Korea and our parents thought it would be a good idea to send each other letters.

Our friendship has lasted for what felt like a lifetime, and I love that dude. Through Kirsten couldn't stand him. I felt like she had just never taken the time to give him a chance. Sure, Yeonjun was flirty sometimes, but that's just him as a person, and he knew when to back off. I would never hurt my wife, and sometimes, I felt like she didn't trust me. I mean, Yeonjun was literally my right hand at our wedding. Out there standing next to me prepared me for my life, cheering the loudest when we officially got married. It even got to the point where she shit talked him once and got angry at me. Like true enough, I love my wife, and I love my bestie, so I wanted them to get along. Hopefully, today works out. I had been signed to Hybe labels as an official choreographer, mainly working with newjeans because those are my girls, but I had worked with other groups as well. The public was quite familiar with me and our friendship, so it was never any dating rumors. Sure, people wanted us together, but that's their issue. I'm happily married.

Yeonjun had pulled up in his van. Opened the door before I hit him in the head. "Why are you always so aggressive all the time? There was literally no need for that hit, Cece." I just push him in the van before grabbing his face. Every time I go to America, I leave for a while. I had to take some other jobs that were literally amazing. Though when I come back, I always make it a habit of checking Yeonjun. Companies are known to starve their idols with fucked up so called diets and I refused to allow it to happen to my bestie. I mean, I almost beat a staff ass for suggesting my litter hyein needed to lose a couple of pounds. "You look good, just doing my family checks." He smiled at me, "I'm glad you care about my health so much, sis." We sat there in the car just catching up on all the shig we have missed in life. Before I told him we would be going to see Kirsten, he just smiled and said, "That's cool." Weridly enough he never had a issue with her, and never tried to say anything back when she insulted him stating she is your wife and you my little sister, I understand why she is jealous but I wouldn't disrespect you other half. My brother is just too amazing. Sometimes, I feel like he read that shit from a magazine.

We pulled up the building, seeing workers running around and losing their minds, trying to make sure everything was perfect. As I walked inside, I heard a scream typical, it what I get for being koreas number it boy with me. Yeonjun just smiles and embraces all the attention. He has also been a suckered for the spotlight. While he is doing that, I tell him I'll go in the back to find Kirsten. I walk away, thankfully, running into Funky Y and greeting her, of course. She is all smiles and asking me all these questions before I cut the conversation short and ask about Kristen. "She is in the back with makeup." I nod and thank her before making my way back there. Seeing her getting all dolled up dripped down in Calvin Klein for the shoot, "Well, look at you." Hearing my voice, she immediately turns around before jumping up to hug me. "Omg, you're finally here. I thought you were made at me about the boot thing. I just wore them at the beginning of the show, to like reveal us. So it technically wasn't that long." I brush her hair out of her face, taking a goof look at her. "I don't care that you wore them, I care that you hung up on me while we were still talking. Don't think I forgot about that. And there shall be punishments in order, baby." I smirk once I see her scared face before kissing her head, trying not to mess up her makeup.

"Guys, it took me forever to find you. It's like a lot of rooms in here. Hi, Kirsten. You look great. What's the shoot for?" Yeonjun asks while running in her out of breath, I turn and laugh at him before turning back to her and see her face. "It's Calvin Klein, pretty obvious to anyone with a brain." She states with a look of pure annoyance while staring at him. Then whispered in my ear why you had to bring him. I grip her arm as a warning, while yeonjun asks us if we want anything to drink, I tell him I'll have an apple juice before Kirsten says nothing from you. "OK, fucking stop it. I try my very best not to take sides because I care about both of you and want you to equally get along. But this shit ends now," I see her face try to turn into a pout before I squeeze her side, letting her know I'm not dealing with the fake shit. "No more animosity or any of that shit, got it." They both look at each other before Yeonjun randomly hugs us both. "I don't have a problem with you, Kirsten. If anything, I'm glad that my litter sister was able to find you, though I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you feel angry. I look over to her, stating it's her turn, and she sighs, "You didn't really do anything, it's just you two are so close, and I know you don't like her like that. But I told myself that if I hated you, it would be easier. Which is a really hard thing to do since you are so happy and bright. I was insecure, and I took it out of you, but then I realized you two are just like siblings, and I felt stupid and thought it was all in my head."

Yeonjun hugs us closer before saying he will give us a minute while patting Kirsten on the back. "Baby, your thoughts are never stupid, and if you feel so strongly, you come and talk to me. We are a team, and till death, do us part remember." She smiles while hugging me tighter and kissing all over my face. "It's ok, I'll try my best to make it up, Yeonjun, for all the shit I put him through. I know he is a nice guy." I just rock her from side to side while listening. "That's amazing, baby, and don't think I forgot about your punishment from earlier. You are in for it when we get home, baby." I tell her while gripping her ass.

Request by @kirsmyonlyone

#street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #street woman fighter x reader #Kristen Dogen #kristen dogen x reader

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elvhenmused · 2 days ago

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true blood starters

adjust pronouns and terminology as necessary.

Nobody has manners anymore. It was all so beautiful, once... What animates you no longer animates me. As your leader, I am very pleased with this offering. Perhaps I'll grow on you. Oh, I have thoughts. Many lifetimes of thoughts. There's nothing you can't do, and each time you do it, it brings you one step closer to the divine. Guilt is a useless emotion - or so I've heard. There are centuries of faith and love between us. You're different. You're not like them. You have a heart, whether it beats or not. I used to think you were made of cold, hard stone and empty inside. Everyone thinks you're a darling, don't they? You're a big faker. You're deep. You feel. There's love in you. The world changed centuries ago, and they're still waiting for the god who comes. That "thing" owes me a new pair of shoes. You taught me there was no right or wrong. Only survival or death. You need to be somebody's, or you won’t be at all. I didn't have any say about being normal. We're born the way were are. We are forming an elite spiritual army. Gods never actually show up, they only exist in peoples' minds, like money and morality. I almost died last night… again! Never underestimate the power of blind faith. It manifests in ways that bend the laws of physics, or breaks them entirely. If you had a shred of love in your heart for me… you would have mourned me! I love you so much. Obviously, god wants us to bury the hatchet. Why do you want to die so much? Why do you want to make me kill you? Yep! One fine-ass motherfucker with pretty new eyelashes. Dead folk, why y'all gotta be so cryptic? It ain't cute. Two-thousand years and I can still be surprised. In this, I see god. I wanna look like I could kick some serious ass, which I can. Aw, shit me. There are dragons now, too? I can't stand this anymore; it's like being ripped in half. No matter what I do, somebody gets hurt! It's in the heartbeat. You feel it in the blood. The goal tonight was to keep you out of danger, not put you in more of it. You're either on the dark side, or you're on the side of the light! You're connected. He'll be able to sense your emotions. They're like humans, but miniature. Teacup humans. I'm sorry you fell in love with a serial killer, alright, but honestly, who here hasn't? Please don't do that. It makes me feel disturbingly human. We can never love humans without bringing suffering upon them. You taught me that, and I will never forgive you for it! Oh, your heart is beating so fast. I want to feel it stop. Do you know what happens to women like me when we get old? We’re pariahs. we die alone in the dark. I don't know what it is about me that makes people think I want to hear their problems. You're free! Go forth and kill the humans. Oh, no time has ever been more perfect. I know my special sacrifice is on his way. Now, are you gonna help me find out what that was, or are you just gonna stare at your vain-ass self all night? What if our hearts can't be trusted, and it's our brains we should be listening to? God's on his way, and he's gonna kill us all! One minute you lie to me, the next minute you ask me to trust you. You do something generous and selfless, and then follow that with something nasty or downright cruel! I'll mourn you, [name]. I'll mourn you to my very marrow. The only pity is that you will never know how much I will grieve. Surely you know everything that exists imagined itself into existence. Even when I'm away from you, I can feel your flesh molded to mine - that's how close we are now. I watched you on the battlefield last night. I've never seen anyone fight like you. We're all kept alive by magic, [name.] My magic's just a little different from yours, that's all.

#rp meme #rp starters #rp starter #rp memes #rp prompt #rp prompts

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 2 months ago

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Easier Said Than Done

Thank you so so so much to @grungekitty-77 for writing the entire second half of this. You're amazing and I love u so much

Summary: the day of the trial has come.

Trigger Warnings: mentions of dehumanization, ptsd, and everything that comes with damage.

1361 words

Wes Sánchez was a prosecutor.

He’d only ever become interested with the judicial system at all after a movie about an optimistic girl going through law school and proving everybody wrong about her being some ditzy blonde airhead had come out when he was young. The interest had lingered over the years, and he’d started out studying defense. But he’d quickly learned that it wasn’t exactly what that movie had portrayed.

“Have a seat, Mr. Smith.”

“This is stupid. We all know he did it. Bastard deserves to rot in the cursed realm…”

Defense wasn’t so much about catching people in lies as it was demanding proof that it was a lie in the first place.

The nindroid sat in front of him, neutral and unblinking. Though Wes knew better, the guy barely even looked alive.

Wes had found that he was more partial to the former. He could find a flaw in even the most airtight of alibis. But much more importantly than that? He needed to sort out the testimonies.

-“It’s not… abnormal for us to leave without telling each other,” the green ninja said, fidgeting in his seat. “But he wouldn’t answer his phone, and — and it had been a day… by the time we realized he was—”

-“Is this even necessary? Every other bad guy we’ve kicked the ass of has been hauled off to Kryptarium, no question!”

“Ms. Smith, I don’t have answers for other cases you’ve been involved in. I’m here now to prove this man is guilty. By all means, I’m on your side, here.”

She slumped into her chair, nodding, though she still didn’t look happy about it. The Smith siblings shared a bit of an anger streak, it would seem. That could quickly become… problematic, on the stand.

-“It was… immensely hard on all of us. Our family was torn apart…”

Though the emotions were real, Wes worried that an argument could be made against the nindroid solely for not being human.

-“He’s my best friend… I was so angry, I just…”

-“I can’t do this!” Cole heaved, breathing in short gasps that certainly weren’t helpful for his current state. “I can’t—!”

“Let’s take a break, Mr. Brookestone,” he offered.

Though he was no longer hyperventilating, he still shook his head rapidly, as if he hadn’t even heard him speak. “I can’t…” he repeated, hands cradling his head, “I can’t go back…”

The problem with ninja was that none of them were going to be easy. Each of them had glaring flaws that could be flipped on them in an instant in the courtroom.

“Alright. I’m going to play the bad guy. I need to make sure you’re ready for whatever the defense is going to ask you. This isn’t going to be fun, but we need to prepare for this.”

-“—I’ll fry that man if I see him again, you can be sure of that!”

-“What the hell does that have to do with anything? That whole love triangle thing was stupid!”

“I understand, but it was very public knowledge that both of them were pursuing you. It will come up.”

-“No.”

“…no?”

“You’ve got enough angles for them to come at you from, you may as well be a circle. We’re not giving them that ammo.”

The green ninja frowned, but didn’t argue.

-“…I don’t see what my being a nindroid has to do with this.”

Wes sighed. “It shouldn’t, but it does. Your humanity will be called into question the second you open your mouth.”

Which narrowed them down to one option. The blue ninja certainly had his own set of issues, but Wes was confident that, if nothing else, at least the jury could relate to him.

But god, if he didn’t have his work cut out for him on this one.

“Cole, you need to breathe.”

“He looks sick!”

“Please say something… I know it’s scary, but we’re going to be right there the whole time, I swear! We won’t let anything happen.”

The first day of the trial started off poorly.

-“Is it true that you electrocuted Mr. Hamada after breaking into his home?”

“Uh — yes… but that’s not—!”

“And is it true, Mr. Walker, that you proceeded to beat him with the aid of Mr. Garmadon, before dumping him on the steps of the police precinct? That hardly sounds like proper arrest protocol. Did you read him his rights while you were dragging his body through the snow?”

The fire ninja spent half of his time glaring at the accused, a red glow emanating from his fists. Wes suspected that the only thing keeping him in check was the ice ninja’s hand on his own, silent communication telling him to knock it off.

It certainly wasn’t helping the argument that the ninja were violent.

In retrospect, Wes should’ve predicted this. The case was so clean. The only flaw anyone could possibly find in it, the only hiccup anyone could point to, was the Ninja.

He was getting eaten alive in this cross examination.

“You were homeschooled, correct?”

Wes stood, desperate to end whatever this was.

“Objection! Relevance, your Honor.”

“Mr. Sánchez was the first to bring up the witness’s background, I’m within my rights to ask follow up questions.”

“Overruled then. Continue.”

Wes cursed under his breath. He felt like he had buried himself here. He thought the blue ninja would be the most palatable to the jury, but that might’ve been the wrong way to go.

“Yes. I was homeschooled.”

“Were you ever taken to the doctor?”

“Of course I was!”

“Were you ever given a tetanus shot?”

Shit. The Walker’s weren’t anti-vax, were they?

“I don’t….I mean I didn’t…..I don’t know. Nobody ever told me that stuff.”

Jay was sweating. He was flustered and this was everything Wes had been afraid of.

He should’ve risked the love triangle with Nya, or leaned into the emotional argument and put Kai up. Jay didn’t look like the picture of normalcy that Wes was banking on.

“Leave my parents out of this!”

“If the witness would refrain from yelling in the courtroom.”

This was bad. After how hard Cole had tried to push through his trauma, it was going down the drain.

“Didn’t you have a very public feud with the supposed victim?”

“Have you ever completed any certified courses on conflict deescalation?”

“Are you even aware of the district you conducted this unlawful arrest in?”

“An affidavit from one Fugidove of his treatment upon quote and quote arrest by the ninja.”

“You mean to tell me that a trained ninja that fought the likes of the Overlord on more than one occasion, was helpless to a simple office worker?”

Wes watched everything slide down hill far in slow motion, but it still happened far too fast. He was suddenly giving his closing statement.

“I beg you not to get hung up on the details and semantics of this case. We have all the proof we need of what crimes were committed, and who they were committed by. I want you to remember the chains, the collar, the dog crate. I want you to think of Mr. Brookestone’s breakdown on the stand and ask yourselves if you truly want the perpetrator of these crimes to go free.”

He thought he did a good job.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have laws for good reasons. No one is above them. It is a reckless precedent to set if we allow one group of super powered individuals to act with impunity towards them. This is not a question of this man’s guilt, this is a question of how we expect justice to be done. My client, guilty or not, is entitled to rights. Rights I believe we have proven he was denied beyond reasonable doubt. This choice, right now, this is how you tell these very powerful people what they are and are not allowed to do in this city.”

Unfortunately, opposing counsel did a better job.

“We the jury find the defendant not guilty of the above entitled actions.”

Wes could barely hear the second half of that sentence over the absolutely enraged uproar behind him.

#damage #the damage tree #kat writes #ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #pet whump #dehumanization #abuse #stockholm syndrome #ptsd #whump #whumpblr #hurt/comfort #this is the part ive been waiting for so who knows maybe this is when i finally get to writing more before next christmas...

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ghoulishtomato · 7 months ago

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NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM KNOCKOFF MOVIE???

Under the "keep reading" tab, you will see a bullet list of my reaction to a movie I found at Half-Priced Books called Night at the Magic Museum. It'll be me pointing out things about the movie and what I enjoy and whatnot. I do my best to describe what happens in the movie but, again, it's mostly reactions, so not a reliable play by play of the movie's events.

First, the basic plot synopsis of the movie that they have in the back of the DVD case (which is completely true and accurate to the events of the film):

⚡ During a fierce electrical storm, lightning hits a museum creating a magical passageway between our world and the world within the museum's paintings. Ben and Kim (brother and sister) find themselves transported to a 17th century village under siege by Falco, an evil sorcerer learned in the ways of black magic. The kids learn that the evil Falco is in search of the village's most prizes possession: The Jewel of Polaris. With the Jewel, Falco will be unstoppable. Ben and Kim must save the village and return to our world before it's too late.⚡

Now, onto my actual (a little bit disjointed) commentary:

before the actual movie, there was a trailer that had some lovely 90s Fantasy Whimsy, and the scenes/compositions scratched my brain just right that now my hopes for NAT(M)M are probably way too high now. Also, the trailer was for something called The Tiny Kingdom, so ofc my NATM brain thought of Jed and Oct

LOVE the orchestra music that plays over a black screen as they list the credits. If they really wanted to rip off NATM tho, they coulda shown us B Roll of the magic museum. But it serves it's purpose and I love orchestra music so I'm not bothered.

We are now in 1632. A Sharp tongued British man named Falco is sneering at his subordinates (?) and my Red Dwarf brainrot has immediately projected Arnold Rimmer onto him.

Falco is kind of cunty actually. And also sounds EXACTLY like Rimmer.

Very obvious ADR for this one side character, but otherwise, not the worst production! I enjoy this!

This would fuck as an old anime, that's what the dialogue feels like.

It's probably impertinent that I tell y'all right now that I fuck with older shit and actively enjoy what people nowadays would likely call major flaws and "ruining the immersion".

hAHA ISTG THERE IS JUST SOME DUDE WHO ACCIDENTALLY FELL INTO THE SHOT WHEN HE DIDN'T MEAN TO, I LOVE LIVE THEATRE 💀

Some... Editing discrepancies... They say it is raining outside... No it's not 💀 And not enough for there to be flashes of blue lightning visible from inside. But luckily I possess a strong will for suspension of disbelief. And the blue lightning is just sort of a running motif through the movie as a reminder of the real world while they're in the painting.

Ben and Kim are mentioned in the plot synopsis, but they leave out the fact they have a little sister named Casey, who I argue is pretty important to the movie. Kim works at the museum and she has to bring Ben and Casey along with her.

Omg, Armour in a museum. Like Lancelot.

Okay VERY obvious ADR line that was supposed to be said by young teen Ben, but the ADR'd voice sounds like a grown ass man 💀? Quite a few noticable ADR moments that don't quite match up with what's on screen throughout the movie actually.

Alright, paintings can come to life because of lightning. No Egyptian magic here.

God, Ben is such a 90s teen boy.

Very clearly the draw of this movie is not the museum- like at all. It's this ONE painting functioning as a portal and the legit world it leads to. Not in any art style a la the black and white painting in Smithsonian, or the Escher painting in Secret of the Tomb. Just a straight up other world. Painting just sucks Ben and Kim in after lightning strike and spits them out into a hay pile in fantasy land.

There's a menacing guy who fell out of a painting and is now up and about in the museum (not important).

Older sister Kim is coming to ridiculous conclusions to blame Ben for the situation they're in (a la annoying big sister stereotype) but Ben's responses are so calm, candid, and reasonable that it's not annoying to me HAHA

Ben's so fucking funny actually HAHA. Everyone has had at least one surprisingly funny line actually

This Fantasy world low-key reminds me of The Legend of Zelda and I fuck with it. Just a little bit. (But everyone is basically human here; no fish people, or even fairies or hell, not even elves).

Falco is such a cunty asshole. Excellent villain so far oh my gAWD. He's so evil.

People keep mocking each other in this movie it's so funny.

HAHA, OKAY SO- They gave us a magician guy (M) who indirectly is responsible for Lincoln's assassination. This movie is so delightful. M is my new favorite.

M is there, btw, because Casey likes to draw, and he's basic her OC that they manage to get into the painting (in order to help Ben and Kim get home and whatnot) by sticking here drawing to the painting they're in. Yeah, Casey's just hanging in the museum with a security guard named Monty (who also play the magician M. The actor actually has some nice range in this movie!).

If you're like crazy about world building, I hate to tell you that s o m e of the stuff about this isn't real clear to me (like, it's implied the fantasy characters also existed in the real world or something but like??? That doesn't make sense here) so like 💀💀

Fun and creative puzzle moment near the climax :D Just one though. Also, Ben likes to roller skate, and that's helpful for this cave he's in to find some magic jewel to help him and Kim get home (and that he's gotta find before Falco).

Also there was a cave in this movie that Istg I saw in a dream...

There's this voiceover narration for some "Tests of bravery and intelligence" Ben has to do, and the narrator sounds like Crispin Freeman to me, heehee (it's def not him tho).

Btw, sister Kim has been delegated to prisoner waiting to be rescued but this is a late 90s fantasy movie so like... what do I expect.

The acting is kind of 1 Note, all on the same level for the most part. It's not bad by any means, of course, they've all been funny at least.

...... This movie had an extremely lackluster and borderline disappointing climax with all the fantasy land magic jewel shit... 💀 Falco deserved something more grand...

Btw, remember how I said there was a guy from a painting wondering around? Well he seemed to be after Casey for unknown reasons. But he was hardly in the movie 💀 He seemed to pose a threat near the end, but dispatching him was "super easy. Barely an inconvenience!" (A sword shot out of fantasy land painting for some reason and killed him before meeting him back into his painting).

So that's it. Literally NOTHING like Night at the Museum save for magic painting portal. Again, as mentioned in my previous post about the movie (and based on how the movie just looks and functions) it was made in like '99.

So what the fuck is the deal with the EXTREMELY NOTICEABLE Night at the Museum coattail riding???

Well, the company that released the movie (from what I can tell) is Moonbeam films, which wasn't founded until 2012- bUT it's parent company is Full Moon features, which was founded in 1988. So if I were to guess, perhaps Full Moon features made the movie, but Moonbeam released it on DVD.

NOW, THE ORIGINAL TITLE FOR THIS FILM WAS ACTUALLY Search for the Jewel of Polaris: Mysterious Museum. But when it was released on DVD in August of 2012, it was renamed to Night at the Magic Museum (it looks like it had a few other different names it could've been called as well, including just The Magic Museum or Mysterious Museum).

Both these production companies or whatever don't make like... The best films, I guess. Or at the very least, very tongue-in-cheek goofy ass movies that aren't trying to be cinema or anything (which is so valid of them). In fact, Full Moon features is known for shit like Evil Bong, Gingerdead Man, and Gingerdead Man vs. Evil Bong.

The point is- they're not particularly high quality or serious about their movies and productions if I were to take a lucky guess (cause I'm not gonna search THAT deep into this; I'm not a YouTuber who can get paid for it 💀).

SO- I THINK...

Moonbeam Films changed the movie title AND specifically designed the DVD case to match Night at the Museum as close as they possibly could (from the composition down to the font) YEARS after the movie was originally made/released, and a few years after Night at the Museum released it's sequel, Battle of the Smithsonian. Hell, the kid on the DVD cover doesn't even look like the movie's MC, Ben (left) 💀 They just grabbed some random white boy to pose SPECIFICALLY for this.

NATM had proven itself to be- like- EXTREMELY fucking popular among kids, families, and a bunch of gay people who want to see that tiny cowboy and Roman kiss. Like we see with lots of bootlegs, they were likely banking on riding the coattails of NATM's success in order to make money on their low budget crummy movie...

Except like.... Search for the Jewel of Polaris isn't bad? It's nowhere near the level Night at the Museum is production wise, of course. But it's got a homey feel to it. It's got an actual story it's telling, and the actor's do quite a good job! (Especially in the beginning of the movie). It is it's own, quaint little movie that I would like to watch a second time.

To ride on the coattails of another movie kind of shows insecurity about the movie's actual contents I think. I mean, that dinosaur, knight, pirate ship, and weird alien thing we see on the cover?? Not in the damn movie 💀 This attempt to be dishonest about what the movie has to offer while also maybe hoping people confuse it with another, successful movie in order to milk money out of it just looks bad on Moonbeam Films' behalf.

In conclusion: Search for the Jewel of Polaris is NOT a Night at the Museum ripoff, and could never have been, what with being made 6-7 years before the first NATM actually came out. It was rebranded in 2012 as Night at the Magic Museum for DVD releases by Moonbeam Films. It's a cute, simple little movie with it's own charming characters and concept, and you can feel the human touch/heart all throughout it 💛💛

Thank You for reading. ☺️✨ Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be thinking about Falco for forever til eternity.

#night at the museum #natm #natm fandom #natm octavius #natm jedediah #battle of the smithsonian #secret of the tomb #Search for the Jewel of Polaris #night at the magic museum #natmm reaction #shawn levy #movie reaction #david schmoeller #moonbeam films #full moon features #knockoffs

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samueldays · 2 years ago

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Followup news: one of the Bike Boys from the CitiBike Incident has released his side of the story, via his mother and Monique Judge.

A TL;DR in two parts:

1: Tearjerking demographic sympathy-farming and "I never thought leopards would make hysterical accusations at MY son, sobs woman who voted for the Leopards Making Hysterical Accusations Party"

2: My son has receipts too, they show that he was being deliberately dishonest and exploiting the system.

To expand on the first point:

Betty has seen video after video of racists and trolls calling her son a “thug” and a “thief” and labeling him as a “man” when, in her words, “He’s just a boy.” It hurts her that people are saying these things — things that she knows are not true — about him.

Betty is disturbed that people believe the worst about what her son might have done, based on little or no evidence. (And the "thief" charge is arguably correct, as we'll see below.)

Betty said she was horrified when she first saw the video. “My reaction when I saw it was ‘oh my God. I almost lost my son in that moment.’ Do you understand me? I am not from here, but we all know this country,” she said. “But how the policemen here do our sons, and our husbands, and our fathers. They kill us.” Betty continued. “So with a white woman standing right there and screaming for someone to help, if the police had come, and my son was standing there, they are going to shoot him. If he runs, they are going to shoot him.”

Betty believes the worst about what the police might have done, based on little or no evidence, to an extent that is hysterical, delusional, and paranoid.

I don't blame her. She's a propaganda victim, on par with the youtube commenters she decries.

I blame Progressive America for engaging in massive amounts of misinformation, propaganda, fear campaigns, cherrypicking and brainwashing about the relative threat posed by blacks and cops.

(I expect some people may object "he was unarmed!" here, and I respond that the point still stands, the annual homicide stats indicate unarmed black men are about 10x more likely to kill someone else than they are likely to get killed by the police.)

To expand on the second point:

CitiBike in cooperation with NYC has a program where rides shorter than 45 minutes can be free if you're on welfare, details at this link.

One can infer the contours of decisionmaking policy that led here: simply making bike rides entirely free on welfare would lead to a bunch of assholes joyriding bikes all day, while simply giving the poors money and expecting them to pay would lead to a bunch of idiots drinking away their money and still having no bike rides; so you get this kind of half-assed compromise.

Re-docking the bike resets the timer, allowing him to ride for another 45 minutes before stopping again. “Even regular Citi Bike riders do this,” Mary explained. “The price goes up after 45 minutes for everyone, so people routinely ride their bikes, dock their bikes, ride their bikes, and dock their bikes again.”

I can see why people do it, but it's still kinda skeevy. The point of the 45-minute limit is that other people should get a chance to use the bikes too, without needing to queue at the docking station and wait for the short available period between rides. It may be excusable if there's plenty of spare bikes and nobody needs to queue, but that apparently wasn't the case here.

Now I want to emphasise that this article I'm quoting is Bike Boy's side of the story, presented as a defense of what he was up to, by a sympathetic journalist known to have been previously dishonest in his favor:

Michael said after resting in Harlem for a bit, the boys continued riding into the Lower East Side of Manhattan. They grabbed frozen yogurt and then headed to the Citi Bike docking station at 1st Avenue and E 30th Street near Bellevue Hospital in the Kip’s Bay neighborhood. They docked their bikes at 7:19 p.m. and sat there to rest. Michael insisted he and his friends never left the bikes unattended. They don’t leave the bikes. Michael said all four of his friends also have the same Citi Bike Reduced Fare membership, so they docked the bikes to stop the timers from going over 45 minutes. [...] Michael was still standing near his bike with his hands on the handlebars. [...] Michael says that is when Sarah Jane Comrie moved closer to him and his bike, leaned over him, and scanned the QR code with her phone even as he had his hands on the handlebars. She then pushed her way onto the bike and attempted to remove it from the docking station and take it. It was 7:24 p.m., and that is when the boys began recording.

Let's suppose for a moment that Michael and the journo are telling the truth here in their pre-video claims of "Michael says".

Even if we take their account at face value, Michael has crossed a line from kinda skeevy to outright wrong. He is trying to have it both ways at once: "using the bike" continuously so that no one else can use it, and "not using the bike" so that he doesn't have to pay for his extended continuous use. Which is it? Pick one.

Either way, sounds like he was a thief, the question is whether he was robbing CitiBike or robbing Sarah Comrie. That I leave to someone else to resolve.

#all #leopards eating people's faces party #racepol

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m-d-n-ght-tr-n · 2 years ago

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𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐁.

𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄

𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 #𝟏, 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

As we sat at the bar having drinks and getting to know each other my wife reached down to see if Patrick’s pictures were true to life. As her hand gripped between his legs she turned to me wide eyed and mouthed “oh my god.” With that we decided to take our night in a more intimate direction. When we got back to the house we poured ourselves fresh drinks and I excused myself to “make sure the bedroom was decent.” I was only gone for a couple minutes but as I started back to the kitchen I could hear the sound of passionate kissing from around the corner. I stopped and listened for a moment before I eventually peered around the corner to see my wife’s dress pulled up around her waist and Patrick’s hand caressing and gripping my wife’s tight little ass. As excitement surged through my body and into my rock hard cock my wife lifted up her left leg and wrapped it around Patrick. He reached down with both hands now gripping both of my wife’s ass cheeks and pulled her lace covered pussy against his jeans. As my wife moaned and grinded herself against him I reached down, opened up my pants, pulled my cock out and began stroking it. That’s when Patrick grabbed my wife’s thong and pulled it down around her thighs. She reached down and slipped them to her ankles before kicking them to the side. She then grabbed her dress, pulled it up over her head and threw into the living room. Patrick just stood there watching her eagerly expose herself. Waiting. They both paused for a second before my wife reached down, opened up his jeans and pulled them to his knees. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed! “It’s even bigger in person!” She was right. His nine inch cock stood at attention in front of her. She knelt down removing his pants the rest of the way and now her head was positioned directly in front of his dick. She grabbed his shaft and wrapped her mouth around him and started slowly sucking and moaning on his cock. I had never seen my wife suck cock like she was in that moment. She can easily take my entire cock into her mouth but with his she could only go about half way before her watery mouth overflowed down onto her perfect D cup tits. She reached around grabbing Patrick’s ass coaxing him to gently fuck her face, occasionally pulling away to gasp for air and just admire his perfectly straight rock hard nine inch cock. At one point Patrick grabbed my wife’s hands and placed them onto each of her tits. Then he slapped his cock across them before placing it right between them. She squeezed her tits around his shaft and he began jacking himself off with my wife’s tits. She moaned along with him spitting on her tits as he stroked away. That’s when the excitement got the best of me. With the sight of my wife stroking Patrick’s giant cock with her tits and me stroking my cock with my own hand, I shot the biggest load I have ever shot across the kitchen floor. By the time I composed myself my wife was back to sucking and licking and muffled moaning on her new favorite play toy.

I could see that she was having a hard time deciding between rubbing her pussy and grabbing his ass so I took the opportunity to help her out. I walked behind her, got down on the floor on my back and slipped my head between her legs. Now she was really fired up, sucking and moaning even harder than before but now grinding her pussy into my open mouth. After about 45 seconds she dropped all her weight onto my face and began shaking and trembling and screaming like I had never heard. I couldn’t breathe but I didn’t care. I grabbed her thighs and pulled her even harder onto my face, my cock now rock hard once again. My mouthed completely filled up with my wife’s cum I had no choice but to swallow it. Patrick and my wife giggled in excitement and disbelief with each other talking about how amazing what had just happened was. My wife then lifted herself off of me and as I gasped for air asked, “are you ready to see him fuck me?”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐘 😉

#sharing wife #stagandvixen #vixen wife #wife fantasy

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weirdcat1213 · 2 years ago

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ok i have an oreo on one hand and a shark plushie on the other, lets do this

trimax volume 8 (pls dont hurt me)

thoughts

BUT BEFORE THAT, ACTUAL QUESTION: how are the 1st timers holding up? yall doing good?

ok now long post is here

chap 1:

-oh that title page its SO FUCKING GOOD

-MY BOI HES HERE

-oh hes not....doing it by choice.....oh

-legato looking like a pizza pocket is the comedy relief we all need tbh

-GET HIS ASS VASH GET HIS ASSSSS

-oh my geesus i heard that, i felt that shit

-"they abuse us" and here you are knives...doing the same shit

-OH THANK GOD YOURE HERE

-could you look less happy while doing this shit knives? pls?

-something something divine punishment from the skies, something something yeah ofc not anyone can do that shit

-oh hey why is he with them i actually forgot

-aw :3 i wonder who taught him to not shoot to kill :3

-also pls leave him alone hes not just a killer pls youre hurting my feelings-

-:c

-STOP VASH DONT LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT HOLY SHIT

-rem mention :c

-knives can you stop being right for a second, thanks

-the arm...wow

-OH YES ITS THIS MOMENT YES

-i dont remember what the other translation said but "that was the day we both lost our minds"....yeah im gonna sit with this one for a bit and cry cuz its true, they did

-oh yeah i didnt get this the 1st time lets try again :D

-ohhhhh....oh shit

-i hate siding with knives on this chapter but i cant help it. i also love the idea of being even

-also he looks so fucking cool while being evil, cool points for you knives

-"invasion" and it ends with him looking at the stars/nightsky? brilliant

chap 2:

-STOP BEING RIGHT KNIVES

-ALSO STOP DISTRACTING ME FROM WOLFWOOD TIME

-ah yes, the classic, sweetest, full of angst potential "i will remind of you of your home and how you dont belong there anymore" card, good to see you here

-oh god i forgot about this part, geesus

-ah crap i love this tho, gives you time to actually take in everything that knives is causing. its so easy to gloss over it with some quick panels but to actually take the time...i love it

-ok ik they get absorbed by knives but the idea of them flying away and being free (for a bit) is so pretty, im happy for them

-...geesus christ

-YES MY GIRLSSSSSSSSS :D

-it makes you wonder what they did to stay alive actually, like you never think of that stuff ig

chap 3:

-wait they didnt know???? hold up....yeah ig that makes sense but...hmmm

-YEAH YOU TELL THEM LUIDA >:D

-:c

-ALSO interesting how the borders didnt go black to represent a flashback, so maybe it wants to show how present is that memory in luida's mind. wow

-"maybe hes been waiting for us to come and help him" aaaand thats enough to make me tear up, im the weakest bitch on the planet let me tell you

-YES SEE LUIDA GETS IT

-GET WRECKED BY THE EXISTENCE OF GOOD PEOPLE ASSHOLE

-OH MAN HES BREAKING

-COOL ASS PANEL ALSO

-oh shit so he hit some plants oh shit oh damn

-AH SHIT

-omg she looks so epic while killing people <3

-THERE HE IS HERE WE GO YES GO GET YOUR HUSBAND

-oh look its the man in the tin can lmao

chap 4:

-KILL HIM WOLFWOOD KILL HIM

-HALF A YEAR???? damn i always forget, this is still going at the speed of light tho

-aw no :c my baby :c

-then again i like that you can see that even if it was just half a year (literally nothing for vash) it still caused him pain and suffering, 10/10

-GEESUS BRO HE JUST GOT FREE

-oh shit oh shit no

-im not really sure how he escaped legato but im glad :D also vash is longgggg i lvoe it :3

-well thats just depressing livio

-pls leave livio

-KILL HIM KILL HIMMMM

-ok but vash being basically a ragdoll rn while wolfwood is fighting and bleeding breaks my heart let me tell you

-wolfwood shut the hell up ok? shut up, i dont wanna hear it

-oh im going insane :) i hate wolfwood so much rn (his crime was to say sad things)

-OH IT WAS HERE I ACTUALLY FORGOT THIS WAS THE MOMENT AWWW HOLY SHIT MY BOY

-YES SAVE YOUR HUSBAND

-"youre not lost wolfwood" wolfwood saying all that shit outloud and IK FOR A FACT vash's heart almost broke ik it i feel it

-baby dont apologize :c

-............................................................ :c

-ah fuck hes here

-WAIT HOLY SHIT THAT LIKE SHADOW OF LIGHT???? AMAZING???

-oh oh im sick to my little stomach i fear oh geesus my boy, my baby, im so happy that wolfwood is all you need but also im so sad you dont have anything else, do i make sense?

-threatening you brother and begging him to not sacrifice himself in the same breath...knives the plant that you are

-woooooooooooooooooooooooooow i love that shit, hes so little...

-PLS GOD LET THIS BE IN STAMPEDE PLS PLS I WANT A SCENE WITH BOTH OF THEM IN THE SKY SO BAD PLSSSS

-im not entirely sure what is happening but damn thats nasty

-NO DONT FUCKING SAY THAT

chap 5:

-LMAO HIS FACE XD

-welp...this is terrible

-nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo :c

-oh righttttt, i forgot about that plan, so thats why people called him chapel

-oh that panel with livio thats fucking brutal geesus nightow. like the old livio seems so pure and far away while the current livio is so violent and present

-my god he looks like shit

-MARLONNNNNNNNNNNNN :D

-oh meryl my girl :'3 omg shes the best

-im so depressed rn :D

-idc if hes rotting, sadly the man looks majestic af

-ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh oh ok

-NO DONT LEAVE PLS DONT FUCKING LEAVE PLS NO STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY STAY

OH SHIT THIS IS FREE BIRD OH SHIT OH NO HELP HELPPPPPPPPPPPP

free bird time ig:

-freeeee biiiiird yeaah tururururururu

-wdym congratulations cmon man

-oh honey......

-awww :c

-oh wow now im DEPRESSED :D

-ugh that fucking face

-hes so cool sometimes >:D

-aw you made her cry :c

-"tired of filling a space in other peoples lives"....hmmmm

-aw :c

I hate whats coming i fucking swear.

#trigun #trimax #trigun maximum #trigunbookclub #this shit has me fearing for my life for reasons i wont mention #but MAN CAN WE GO BACK TO LIKE #VOLUME 1 #OF TRIGUN #PLS #PLS IM SO SCARED

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year ago

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The Red In God's Ledger, God The Bounty Hunter

Word Count: 619

He sat there.

His leg nervously bouncing.

He’d hoped…no prayed that you would come to your senses and that all of his dreams would come true. That at the last second you would run out of that church and come begging him to run away with you into the sunset.

He would use his abilities to make sure that the both of you disappeared. That you would never have to see anyone again that you didn’t want to.

But you didn’t.

“If anyone should have a reason why these two should not join in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace!”

He could think of a few reasons.

“GABRIEL!” she moaned in the throes of passion as the Southern gentleman bucked his hips once more, “Gabriel! Oh god. I love you!”

“Say it again, baby!” he begged, his lips peppering kisses along the column of her throat while his cum coated her walls. He groaned as her core fluttered wildly around him, milking him.

“Gabriel….Gabriel Oliver Delacroix”

His hands gripped her so tenderly as he emptied his balls into her. His lips ghosting over her skin as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into the firm flesh of his ass. Her hips rolled when he shifted, and she whimpered, begging him not to part from her.

“D-Don’t leave…”

“Don’t marry him!” he growled out, begging her one last time, “Don’t do this, baby…we-we can run away together. We can start over. No one will ever be able to find us. We-”

“I can’t-“ she sobbed against his chest, “I-I can’t leave my family!”

His heart broke as he forced himself to remain quiet. He stood and slid down the side of the church without so much as a word as the rest of the service continued.

He didn’t know why he showed up to the church.

It made his stomach twist just thinking about it.

But he still showed up every winter.

He was nearly to the doors when the first tear fell down his cheek.

“GABRIEL WAIT!”

He turned, half-hoping that the woman he loved would be running towards him.

But she wasn’t there.

The church was empty aside from a few parishioners who were there for the mid-week mass. Just as it had been every time he came back to his hometown in the bayou of Louisiana in the middle of December.

His jaw clenched as he thought about it.

How the memories came rushing back.

How she had married that asshole that day.

And six months later he’d put her pregnant corpse into the ground when he found out that her ex was the one that knocked her up.

His jaw ticked as everything flooded back.

And then he smiled, thinking about how he’d gotten his revenge.

“FUCK OFF Gabe!” her husband screamed at him as he spat on the floor, “ain’t no one can judge me but one. And I’m sure god was alright with me putting that lyin’, cheatin’ whore in the ground.”

“We all pay for our sins, Dave!”

“Only one man can judge me, Gabe and you ain’t him.”

“Actually I am,” he muttered, turning back to the man he’d been torturing for the past few hours. In his hand, he held his revolver, pointing it towards the man’s head, “time to meet your maker pal…”

“You ain’t god, you piece of shit. You-“

But the man’s words fell flat when Gabriel pulled the trigger, the last shred of his humanity dying with his beloved’s murderer. He pulled the gun back and blew away the smoke from the old gun, before holstering it once more, “actually, Dave…I am…and you ain’t s’posed to be here no more.”

#god the bounty hunter #god #ghosted #25 days of christmas #angst

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year ago

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The following was written by an Emmy-winning Showrunner with long experience in Hollywood, and published anonymously in The Ankler today. I’m publishing it here because I’m a big believer in not reinventing the wheel. This really sets out what is wrong now with Hollywood, and what’s really at stake.

HOW TRUST DIED IN HOLLYWOOD

“There’s always been a struggle between art and commerce, but now I’m telling you art is getting its ass kicked, and it’s making us mean, and it’s making us bitchy, and it’s making us cheap punks and that’s not who we are.”

Aaron Sorkin wrote those words for the pilot of Studio 60 On the Sunset Strip, which premiered back in the comparatively halcyon days of 2006. Mr. Sorkin wasn’t prescient so much as he vastly underestimated commerce’s complete and utter victory over art and the white-hot rage that would engender in the artists.

Consider this: In just the past four years, the writers of television, film, and comedy/variety shows have fired their own agents — going so far as to sue them in federal court and accuse them of being “mobsters” — and gone out on strike for the first time in 15 years. Some may say — and have said — that this is because writers are “crazy” or “spiteful” or that their leadership is “militant.” And all of that may even be true, but such characterizations elide the simpler, far more accurate explanation: Writers are angry AF.

And, unfortunately, even if the WGA strike were to end tomorrow (please, God, let it end tomorrow) with the writers getting absolutely everything they’re asking for (and, God, that wouldn’t be so terrible either), we — the collective “we” of Hollywood — would still be left to contend with that rage because it won’t go away and it won’t go away because the system that engendered it is broken.

Let me let you in on something that the WGA Negotiating Committee prefers you not know: Writers don’t really care about money. I mean, we like money — don’t get me wrong — but we practice our craft for its own sake. And the way you can tell is that, right now, half of television writers are working at guild minimum. We let that happen. Does that sound to you like people who are in it for the money? No, it doesn’t. We’re in it for the love of the game. The problem is... the game is no longer lovable.

Here are just a couple of examples: Screenwriters have watched opportunities dry up as studios eschew mid-budget movies that used to be the lifeblood of the feature side of the industry in favor of “blockbusters” (some ultimately more so than others). And those screenwriters lucky enough to get a gig are constrained by single-step deals which result in their payments being held hostage to free work. Even more soul-crushing, their hope of writing something original is a pipe dream in a land where studios worship at the altars of “intellectual property” and “pre-awareness.”

Things are arguably even worse on the television side. Writers for streaming shows are used to “development” that goes on for years and years. In broadcast (remember that?), the deadline of May upfronts kept everyone honest, but the recent move to “year-round development” now just means that development is a never-ending process. It used to be that the price of admission was a pilot pitch; now it’s a “pitch” for multiple seasons combined with a visual deck (if not a full-on sizzle reel) and, hey, an actor attachment and a filmmaker wouldn’t hurt either. And showrunners? They’re as interchangeable and disposable as feature writers have always been. (The biggest unsung offender on this front is easily Amazon. Here’s a partial list of all the shows where they’ve fired and replaced the showrunner: Carnival Row, Citadel, Gen V, Goliath, Jack Ryan, Paper Girls, The Summer I Turned Pretty.)

[MORE]

#TCinLA #writers strike #showrunner #the movies #making a living #words and writing

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weirdlet · 2 years ago

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Alain Starfel, Alastair reborn, has a purpose to balance against the forces of the cult of Talos, McCoul the death god, the path of enlightenment, the knights of dust, and the cult of Undar, which is made of giants. Alastair proper is locked in the afterlife until such times as that purpose is fulfilled.

Maeve the paladin can tell he's not evil or undead, but he's been touched by an angel. Zone of truth, gladly accepted- Alain is willfully truthful. He's trying to balance the scales against chaos and anarchy. The knights have lost their way- the giants are a mechanization of chaos that will just spread problems. McCoul is a sinister dark organization, and Talos is generally neutral, but have taken on a problematic mission.

Glory's take on all this: "Will there be unclaimed properties of a valuable nature along the way?"

"Most likely."

"Then we're good to go!" It's going to take some heavy cash to achieve Glory's life goals, so as much as he will fight for right and justice (shhhhh) he's very much about reward for risk.

Maeve gains a mastiff named Iris, and Sorianna Ravenleaf walks off in disgust from the fact that her beloved has been replaced by- this. We find her drinking in a tavern, ignoring half a dozen men flexing for her, and we plunk down on either side of her.

"Want me to punch 'em for ya?"

"Nah, I found what I was looking for. We can leave," she says, closing her book.

Phillip has decided on retiring (his player now playing Alain, whose former player is now playing Ravenleaf), and as we head towards the town we last saved, he's intent on spending time with his wife and remaining limbs. We walk for most of the day, before coming upon a screaming storm of blackbirds- speaking in a language that none of us know. They fly off before comprehend languages can take effect, so Ravenleaf sends her crow familiar off after them.

'Make way, sinners, the knights of Helm approach, they land just over the horizon at a ruined keep'

Alain says that these knights are not true- Helm left them long ago for their brutality, and Bane has slipped in to empower them. There's about fifty of them- they had been following Maeve by about three days. As we go along, we find a crumbling keep where we theorize these fuckers are. Glory scouts the air, the dog slips in the unlocked doors, and Trinidad tears one of the gates off its hinges because he didn't expect it to be unlocked. There's a tower with a hole in the roof, a flock of ravens and non-kenku raven men, and the dog reports smelling men and birds and mostly women, and barks in alarm.

There's a pot of coffee that's hot in one of the empty tents. Having barred the doors behind us, the armored ladies approaching can't get through the gate. Ravenleaf, with her comprehend languages, repeats what the blackbirds had and tries to see if it gets a response. "Why are you warning all of the area?" "We are were-ravens and these others are our heralds, and Helm would warn folks for these are followers of Bane." Maeve thinks the were-ravens are possibly touched by the gods- but that the warriors outside are holy warriors by their own thought, but with an ominous bell toll that indicates they have lost their way.

The ravens extract an oath to the good gods that we will stand for valor this day, and Soriana announces to the Dust Knight Squire peeking around the crumbling wall that servants of Bane have no place here. Fireball starts things off with a bang, and the battle commences. They're trying to beat down the gate, but Trinidad is too strong for them and holds the line. There's armed and armored knights everywhere, and we get a look at Alain's shiny new powers, making knives of smoke and kicking ass while the ravens fly about and make things difficult for the deluded Helmites that have allowed Bane into their hearts.

Eventually some of the knights finally burst through the gates as we are fighting the ones who've slipped around to other entrances, whittling down their numbers- the dust sentinels/ravenfolk are waiting for them.

Swashbuckling shenanigans ensue. Glory's fighting knights on stairs. There's a fireball. There's a program we're using that does sound effects, and if you've never heard the Wilhelm Scream in chorus, you're missing something in life.

The were-ravens say to us- the paladins are still at large and they are most dangerous. The men-at-arms are scouting the area, demanding taxes from the little villages in the name of Helm and putting to sword anyone showing taint or imagined future taint of evil. We decide, on advice of the ravens, to fortify this place against the men-at-arms and send them with Glory to scout. The scouts and ment at arms are reported to be about an hour away, ~25 men.

We plan some pretty neat traps- deadfall trap, murderholes, oil the drawbridge, and Glory lockpicks the secret door so that it will never open again. We're waiting for the men at arms, and they don't arrive at the time we expect them- the ravens scout out and say the men at arms are waiting at a fork in the road, and farther away the knights are marching to meet them, and they'll likely meet up in about three or four hours.

4 squires, 25 men at arms, and 5 knights/paladins.

The weres say they were servants of the raven queen- they angered her, and were cursed to work for three different other gods on loan. They're pretty sure we're all about to die.

Tune in next week for heavy shenanigans!

#glory's travails

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grimm-rider · 2 years ago

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Entry 16

We didn’t rush getting back to Spurhorn, and took the full two-day journey. Nothing real special to report. Aenland convinced Nevra to start singing for us. She actually has a pretty nice voice. Talsune had plans to check on the Dragonkin armory before leaving with us—I had assured him I very much still wanted him to come along if he still wished to join me, and he was still keen on coming and joining my future battles, so we’re on the same page.

Once we got back to Spurhorn, a surprise was waiting for us. The Dancing Hut was making its way towards the fortress as we approached. The guards along the wall seemed confused about what to do about the giant chicken-legged building approaching. We called out to them that it was friendly, and once Commander Pharamol confirmed, they relaxed.

The Dancing Hut settled down in a snowdrift just outside of the fortress’ entrance, and then Jadrenka and Nadya exited, looking around the dark snowscape of Triaxus. Jadrenka asked us if we had been planning on running off with the new keys without giving them a chance to see an alien planet. Considering the geass we probably had, but in that moment the geass seemed to loosen ever so slightly, as if encouraging us to take a short breather before the next leg of our journey. So I told her that it wouldn’t hurt to take a few days to enjoy it. Besides, Nestian had a manual of gainful exercise to read. I knew from experience that trying to find the time to read one of those tomes while running around getting stuff done was a pain in the ass. Taking about a week off so he could read it and gain its benefits would only work in our favor.

We all went our separate ways for the afternoon. I went back to my room for a bit. I had taken a tooth from Yrax and the contagion scroll, and I placed them as offerings before the alters to Norgorber and Urgathoa respectively, offering up prayers to my gods. I especially hope Norgorber is pleased—that dragon crossed me and I ripped half his skeleton out. The death of a draconic warlord is going to have big consequences across the planet. I’d say he was a worthy target to slay in the Reaper of Reputation’s name.

After I had finished with my meditations, I went looking for Greta. It took some time, but I eventually found her lost in thought by the fortress’ drinking water. She smiled, saying she’d figured I’d find her eventually. She’d just been lost in thought about…things. She’d made me promise two things when we first left. Don’t lie to her, obviously. And take her on an adventure. And this had been quite the adventure. We had travelled through time, and gone to another planet, we’d fought a giant mutant dragon, and seen a Demon Lord. She didn’t know what came next—if this whole rider thing was going to mean I’d be stuck serving Baba Yaga, or if once it was all said and done I was free to go, but she wanted to be with me for whatever came next. I told her I wanted that too—I had hoped, very much, that that was what would happen. I had hardly considered the alternative, honestly. Parting ways with Greta seems…unfathomable at this point. Greta laughed, saying she supposed it was easier with Talsune where I could just know what he was thinking. Which is true. I don’t really have to wonder if Talsune would want to stay by my side, even if he hadn’t already said as much, I can feel that he wants to continue fighting alongside me. It’s a comforting thought. It still feels a little strange to feel, but I’m getting more accustomed to it.

Greta tilted her head, seeing something glint beneath the surface of the water. I could hardly dive into the fortress’ drinking water to retrieve it—but fortunately I didn’t need to. I sent Nikolai to fetch the object. He returned with an ioun stone and two vials of Truecolor Dye. I let the ioun stone join my other one, and looked over the Truecolor Dye. For once I can be fairly certain what color I was seeing, unless something has really changed without my knowledge. Truecolor Dye is affected by the whole ‘cosmic alignment’ bullshit, the same thing that affects spells like Unholy Blight and Holy Smite and Detect Good and Evil. The arbitrary factors that the gods place on you to determine your place in the universe. If you’re considered good you see it as gold, if you’re considered evil you see it as a vivid red, and if you’re neutral you see it as orange. Anyways, I’m an absolute bastard, but I’ve never quite fallen into ‘evil’ territory (somehow), as proven by the fact that Unholy Blight STILL hurts me every gods-damned time someone casts it. So. The color of the dye must have been orange.

Greta commented that the ioun stone was nice, but she didn’t get what a bunch of orange dye was down there for.

That gave me pause. Because she HAD been unaffected by Unholy Blight last time we’d been targeted. Which meant her place in that arbitrary alignment bullshit chart had shifted somewhat.

I told her that she should probably be careful next time someone casts Unholy Blight at us, because I had a feeling it was going to be more of a problem than it had been in the past. She laughed, asking why, since it had never affected her before. I explained the Truecolor Dye to her, about how it looked different depending on the person’s alignment in the universe. She asked what color I saw it as, and I confirmed I saw it as orange as well. She said she supposed it was only a matter of time before I started slumming it down here with her. I corrected that assumption, letting her know that orange was actually the neutral color. She was the one whose spot had changed.

She seemed taken aback for a moment. She reasoned out slowly that she supposed if you save enough people enough times then eventually you would quit being considered evil. I agreed.

She grinned and nudged me, noting that I’d changed too, though. I’d resurrected Aenland. And she was sure if it had been her I’d have done the same for her. I assured her that if it was ever her, I had made certain that I would always have the means to bring her back at my fingertips.

She noted that casting that spell was uncomfortable for me. I wouldn’t say uncomfortable—horribly painful, more like. She thanked me for being willing to go through that for her…but of course I would. I would rather have my entire body doused in positive energy than lose her. Not…that I said that, exactly. That’s a bit sappy.

We kept talking, and Greta started teasing me, asking if we should name our ‘pups’ after the other members of our group. At least I think she was teasing. She did bring up an interesting point about if they’d be shapeshifters like she was now. And…I mean…I’m not exactly opposed to the idea of naming them after the others. Except maybe give them nicknames to keep things from getting confusing…and I’m not sure if Edeya would want a kid to be named after her since we’re already dealing with a mirror version of her with the same name as her, it might be a sore subject…

Gods, this is not something I ever thought I’d be thinking about in earnest. This was the sort of talk that a little over a year ago (let’s be real, even a few months ago) would have sent me running the other direction. But…I can actually see this sort of future with Greta…

I spent the rest of the afternoon with Greta, but I’ll spare the details.

We eventually made our way to the mess hall and met up with the others, and spent the evening celebrating our hard fought victory. My memory gets fuzzy after that. There was a lot of alcohol involved. I think Greta helped get me back to our shared room.

The next day I did what I really should have done the day before and went looking for Cesseer. It’s not that I’d been putting it off, per se. It was a little that, admittedly. Mostly it was just that everything kept happening, everyone was celebrating, I had spent a lot more time with Greta than I’d gone in meaning to, the day just slipped away.

But I knew I needed to talk to her, and that it needed to be sooner rather than later. So I went looking for the Battleflower, and found her in the training room. She was practicing alone.

She said she’d expected me to come find her yesterday, to which I apologized, but she seemed understanding that everyone had been busy celebrating. She said she knew why I was here, but she wanted to hear it from me.

I told her that I was there to make sure she was doing alright, and to apologize. She asked: for what? That took me by surprise. She listed off the things I had done recently: slayed Yrax, freed her, saved her from an Intellect Devourer. What was I apologizing for?

I told her I was sorry that I’d left her with that monster in the first place.

She felt it was water under the bridge. She no longer thought I’d meant any harm by it, after seeing me now.

I can’t remember, so I have no idea what my intentions had been. I can’t be as sure as she seems to feel…

She said that I had hurt her honor, though, and that couldn’t stand. So she challenged me to a one-on-one dual. Just like I’d seen Nestian fight twice on our first day on Triaxus.

Somehow I’d suspected from the start it would eventually come to this. Mostly I’d originally figured she just wanted an excuse to punch me in the face, although I didn’t feel so much like that was the case anymore.

She said that if I won, she’d join us on our travels, just like we’d talked about. If she won…not so much. We’d discuss what would happen next, if she won.

I agreed to the fight. I’d honestly been keen to spar her since seeing Nestian and Jairess fight and learning that magic was perfectly acceptable for their definition of ‘unarmed combat’. Even if it meant probably getting punched in the face.

One little problem: I hadn’t come in prepared for a fight. My armor wasn’t up like it would be on a day I was out adventuring.

Still, I stepped into the ring with Cesseer. As we began she told me she was eager to see just what ‘The Grim Rider’ could do.

I didn’t have a chance to ask her about that title, as she lowered herself into a fighting stance, and the match began.

Somehow I managed to get the jump on Cesseer, calling up my Bone Armor, and then casting a Quickened Inflict Moderate Wounds. It wasn’t much, but it was the most I could do in quick succession like that.

Unfortunately, Cesseer had some magical defenses of her own, and my spell fizzled harmlessly off of her resistances.

And that had brought me in dangerously close to the beautiful Battleflower.

She led with a flurry of kicks and punches that were like a dance. I managed to keep step, my armor deflecting the worst of it, although her first kick to my jaw did connect before I had gotten into the rhythm of defending against her.

I countered, casting with defensive movements so she couldn’t interrupt my spell, and struck with an Inflict Critical Wounds. She dodged, but I was able to hold onto the spell, prepared to try to strike again the moment her defenses were open.

Cesseer tried to knock me from me feet with a kick to the gut, but I remained grounded. She was in close now, and I struck with the Inflict Critical Wounds. It smashed through her resistances and the negative energy took, creeping across her skin with its decaying power.

Cesseer went in for another flurry, but I was ready for her this time, and each attack deflected off my armor.

I tried something reckless—I left my defenses open as I cast a more powerful spell, so that I could put my full focus into the casting. I was rewarded when the swing she tried against me hit armor-hard bone, and my spell unleashed: Mass Inflict Serious Wounds. Negative energy engulfed us both, its cold claws digging in deep to her while at the same time healing the worst of the cuts and bruises she had left on me.

Cesseer was looking a bit tired—not on her last legs by any means, but I’d certainly done a number on her. She swung in with another flurry, and once more only a single blow managed to get through my defenses.

Then she stepped back, raised her hands in a show of surrender, and bowed.

I, of course, immediately ceased fighting. I certainly wasn’t aiming to kill her after we’d just saved her.

Cesseer once again commented that I couldn’t do that the last time she’d known me—which brings up the question of just what I could do back then, if not what I do now.

I thought I was remembering spells I had forgotten. But I remember Nazhena making a comment about me saying something about finding necromancy tasteless, too. I’d thought at the time that I’d just been lying to her. But what if I hadn’t been a necromancer before? But that doesn’t make sense—Master Keisuke taught me to use my magic, hadn’t he? So it follows that I would have learned necromancy like him.

The obvious explanation is that I was just more subtle about it than I am now. I just hid that I was a necromancer instead of being open about it. I mean most necromancers don’t exactly go around advertising that they raise the dead—it’s common sense not to since it’s outlawed in many places and will get paladins on your ass. I’ve had the extreme fortune of being Baba Yaga’s Rider so I can get away with it. But then…I suppose back then I was this ‘Grim Rider’, so I should have had that same excuse back then as well and no reason to hide. Unless working with Elvana made it necessary. Maybe she wanted to keep up appearances.

Right. Because child murder is fine but necromancy is where they draw the line. Sure.

Anyways, Cesseer said she was interested to see more of me and my ‘hot wolf girlfriend’. She said she would like to be with me, if I would have her.

I misconstrued this as her asking to come along, but she clarified. If I would have her.

I said I’d have to make sure that was okay with said hot wolf girlfriend, which was apparently the correct answer, and that was apparently a test of character. Probably the first test of character I’ve ever successfully passed.

Cesseer left me to my own devices, thanking me for saving her before she went on her way.

…Sometimes it feels good to be the one who saves somebody.

When our group reconvened at dinner, Nestian informed us that Ratibor and Zorka had somehow left the Dancing Hut and were also in Spurhorn, chilling in…really poor disguises.

He also said that Ratibor would like to know what had happened to his and Jadrenka’s daughter. Edeya posited that if there was a spell that allowed the user to ask a question and have it be answered by another more knowledgeable being, that would be perfect. A number of spells came to my mind, and I listed them off to her. The most promising one, I thought, was Commune. The only problem was you needed to be a devout worshipper of a deity as it was a spell to contact your deity and ask them questions. I didn’t reveal to the others that I had two deities I could contact—even if I did, I don’t think that would be a good idea. This wasn’t the sort of subject you wanted to bother Urgathoa or Norgorber about, even if you were in their good favor—which I like to think I have been.

I forgot to mention, the night after my prayers, I had a couple of really vivid—albeit abstract—dreams. Snippets of memories of deaths I’d caused. And vivid images of rot and decay. And when I woke up I could feel I had been granted a boon—some small gift of power from each. I intend to make good use of these gifts.

Anyways, seeing as we had no spellcaster with a suitable god to contact, we decided we would ask one of the local Apsu clerics the next day. We would provide them the scroll, so all they’d need to do is cast the spell.

The next day I decided to go check in on Talsune before the time we’d all decided to meet up in the infirmary. He was in the Dragonkin Armory, trying to get it organized. He was frustrated with a bunch of the younger Dragonkin having left the entire place in total disarray. I couldn’t help but laugh, noting that some things are the same on every planet apparently.

I helped my partner with cleaning the armory, and we talked while we worked. He confirmed again that I still wanted him to come along, to which I of course agreed. Strange as the emotional part of our bond might feel, we make an incredibly good team. I feel a bit like being separated would be like cutting off a limb, now that I’ve started to get used to his presence in my consciousness.

As I cleaned, I felt a sudden welling up of excitement over something—the feeling wasn’t coming from me, it was from Talsune. He looked perfectly stoic outwardly, but he’d found some particularly fine weapons—a magical greatsword and a glaive, exactly what he and Nevra use. He decided that those who do the cleaning get first pick of the best pieces, a sentiment I had no arguments over. We did all the work tidying up, so I don’t see why not. Those pieces would have been lost and buried under a bunch of mundane weapons otherwise anyways with how bad the room had been when I’d first entered.

Once we were done, I let him know we had a busy day ahead of us, and we headed to the infirmary to meet up with the others.

In the infirmary I easily convinced one of the clerics to cast the Commune spell for us. We were the heroes who slayed Yrax, after all. Pretty much everyone in the fortress loved us. The cleric in question needed a little guidance in how to actually use the scroll—magic on Triaxus was cast differently than magic on Golarian, and so the scroll was a foreign concept to them. But once they’d figured it out, they got to work casting and asking their questions.

After some time of the cleric asking a number of questions and listening to answers we couldn’t hear and then asking follow up questions, the spell ended. The cleric explained what they had learned. Ratibor’s daughter was deceased—no surprise since she’d lived 4000 years ago. She had spent part of her life searching for someone, but had also started a tribe of witch hunters on the border of an icy land, and their descendants still reside there to this day.

We thanked the cleric, and discussed what to do with this knowledge. We determined it wasn’t bad news. It seemed like something he ought to know. So we decided to go tell him.

We found Ratibor and Zorka in the Hall of Heroes. Artisans were building a statue in our honor there already. I’m going to be immortalized on an alien planet, how cool is that?

Anyways, Ratibor. We told him what we’d learned about his daughter. He started laughing and crying, and used Zorka’s handkerchief to blow his nose without asking. He was incredibly proud—his daughter had become a warlord like him, and hadn’t met a horrible end, she’d lived her life and met a warrior’s fate and had fought witches like those who kept her mother imprisoned. It was…honestly nice to see how happy he was to learn about his daughter’s fate. And he asked us if he could join us when we returned to Whitethrone so that he could see his descendants in battle with his own eyes, to which I have no objections. If Ratibor can leave the Hut I say he should definitely come along.

Once the waterworks were over, I pulled Zorka aside and asked her if she had heard of The Grim Rider. I expected her to clam up like every other time I’d asked about my past—but I had to at least ask and cover all my bases.

To my shock, she answered. She confirmed, yes, she knew of the Grim Rider.

She seemed to be struggling to speak, though, and didn’t say much more, except to assure me that I was on the right path and to keep going.

That was enough for me, for now. The fact Zorka could even say that much was positively a miracle.

Nestian let us know that he’d also summoned the Interdimensional Rumor Trader, Zilvazavarat. He’d been planning to ask him about Ratibor’s daughter if we didn’t find another solution, but he thought we might be able to learn other things from him—such as the current state of Whitethrone.

So, we returned to the Dancing Hut to meet with the trader.

Nestian asked Zilvazavarat about the state of Whitethrone—and after some back and forth about technicalities about ‘a swarm of undead queens’ vs ‘twelve undead queens’, he told us that the city was mostly holding up. It was currently divided up between the twelve Crone Queens, and Elvana had holed herself up in the palace to focus on her ritual to freeze the world. The rebellion was still going strong, using hit and run tactics to needle the Winter Witches. The biggest change was that there were far more Mirror Men on the streets than before.

Aenland asked the trader to take the horn of Yrax back to his homeland for him, with a message that Huntmaster Boughmuse would be returning. Zilvazavarat made a very foreboding comment about the current state of Kyonin. He tried to fleece Aenland for more money to learn about the current condition of his home, and Nestian and I were having none of that bullshit. I told him I would reconsider if I were him since this was a personal matter, and Nestian told him that he should find it in his heart to be chartable. Zilvazavarat said he wasn’t in the business of doing charity, but that since Aenland’s message had been ever so short, he would just bundle this bit of information in with the cost of relaying that.

Zilvazavarat had the gull to invoke Abadar and ask me if I understood where he was coming from needing to make a fair deal. I told him I wasn’t a follower of Abadar so I wouldn’t know.

If he doesn’t watch it, I’ll introduce him to which gods I follow.

The trader told Aenland that Treerazor was on the move against Kyonin. This was nothing unusual, his minions were always tormenting the elves. But something had the bloated lizard scared. His movements were erratic compared to usual, and his attack patterns were different from usual. It was making him unpredictable.

With that out of the way, Nestian asked Zilvazavarat if he knew if the bears in Taldor were doing okay. After being paid for it, the trader confirmed that they were doing fine, the same as usual. There were whispers, however, that a small faction were trying to rile up the other bears into going back to Irrisen and taking the fight to Elvana. But Zilvazavarat didn’t believe Nestian needed to be worried—Nestian’s family was slow to act, as he well knew, and wasn’t likely to make any big moves anytime soon.

Then the trader fixed his greedy little eyes on me and asked if I had any questions. Of course I did, but I didn’t except much in the way of answers—I never get any straight answers.

First I asked him if he knew anything about Queen Elvana’s motives behind kidnapping children from the outskirt towns of Irrisen. He gave this one to me free of charge, as it was technically related to the Whitethrone question. He told me pretty much exactly what Illivor had already told me: that Elvana was using the children as bartering chips for creatures like hags or members of her own Winter Witches like Nazhena. But, he added, there was a rumor that she was looking for a child with ‘the potential’. The potential for what, he didn’t know.

The potential. What could that be? Could it be why I was targeted twice? Or was it just a coincidence? Always more questions than answers.

The trader asked if I had any further questions. I told him that I doubted he’d have any satisfactory answers for my next question, but I’d ask regardless. Did he know anything about the Grim Rider?

Yes, he did.

Unfortunately, after he said this, he was Dismissed by the Dancing Hut itself and sent Norgorber knows where. So, as always, I came away with absolutely no answers.

We left the Hut, had a nice dinner which Nestian helped to make, and headed to bed.

That night I got a Sending from Master Keisuke while I was asleep. He told me to find a way to travel through the planes and cast it through the pocket watch, and just this once he’d give me a two way ticket to his demiplane so we could talk in person.

The next morning I woke and made my way straight to the Dancing Hut, to shop at Glargonargs. I bought a Scroll of Plane Shift, then made my way back to Spurhorn.

On the way back, as I was looking for a private place to cast, Aenland managed to sneak up on me while I was lost in my own thoughts. He put that cursed rapier blade up to my neck—that rapier Xanthadon had given him that once drawn couldn’t be sheathed until the wielder had killed something with it. I froze, wondering just what was going on. Aenland said I had something of his. My mind raced trying to understand, and then I put two and two together. Xanthadon’s rapier. The other rapier. The one in my bag of holding that the Xanthadon in the past had given me when Aenland was in a mood and wasn’t approachable enough for me to give it to him—and then I kind of forgot about it.

I retrieved the rapier and handed it to him. He thanked me, then said he needed blood for this rapier. I told him that was fine so long as it wasn’t mine. He told me that’s what he’d been implying—so I reminded him that he needed to *kill* someone to sheath the sword, not just wound them. He was quiet for a moment, then the lightbulb seemed to go off in his head and he slinked away.

That was weird.

Regardless, I had a meeting with Master Keisuke to attend, so I didn’t have time to think for long about how Aenland had just had a cursed blade at my throat and how one wrong move would have meant my jugular punctured through just then.

I found a private room, and cast the Plane Shift scroll through the pocket watch. The watch seemed to grow, and I felt like I was falling into it. It multiplied until there were nine of it. I felt disoriented. There was singing, and suddenly the nine clocks were nine frosted glass walls. The singing was Master Keisuke’s voice, echoing throughout the nine-sided space. When I looked up, there was Master Keisuke in his true kitsune form, holding out a hand to me. I took it, and he led me into his demiplane, the Nonagon. He was not actually singing, it seemed to be coming from the demiplane itself, and the music stopped after a moment. Master Keisuke said he felt it added some theatrics if an intruder found themselves in his home. I was inclined to agree, it added a certain flair.

I was certainly taking mental notes, if I ever become powerful enough to make a demiplane someday.

He had a powerful defense granted to him by the Pallid Princess, which I had been permitted through this time, although he told me I should contact him before trying to enter in the future as he would be putting the safe guards back in place—in case I ever got mind dominated or something of the like. Understandable, you can’t be too careful with magic that can override a person’s will on the table.

I had tea and a pleasant talk with Master Keisuke. The first real pleasant talk we’d actually gotten to have since I’d lost my memories. Last time we met face-to-face, I was guarded because I didn’t really know anything about him yet and it ended with Aenland shooting at him. Apparently since then he’d been shot again—in the Eon Pit. That wound wouldn’t heal, not with positive or negative energy. Negative energy seemed to hurt him like a regular person unlike me—that surprised me a bit, I suppose I expected him to have a Pallid Crystal if he didn’t simply somehow have the same affliction I have. But then again there are so many useful items you can wear around your neck. I should know, seeing as I’ve chosen to forego being able to be healed by positive energy in favor of wearing an amulet of natural armor. That and I’d have to explain to Edeya why the Pallid Crystal works for me now since she identified it when I showed it to her, and then she’d know I worship Urgathoa, and that would be a whole thing. Not that it’s exactly shocking that the necromancer would worship the goddess of undeath.

Master Keisuke checked if I had any further questions for him, so I asked him about why the members of the Norgorber cult had had a problem with me. He’d said I belonged to Urgathoa. I didn’t understand what that meant, Keisuke was a necromancer and they didn’t have a problem with him.

Keisuke clarified that they didn’t want me working with them because I was undead. That didn’t clear up my confusion—I don’t detect as undead, how am I undead? He clarified again, I’m not undead anymore, but I was then. He realized then that I’d had a misconception neither of us had realized.

He hadn’t brought me back to life when he found me in that cave. He’d turned me into a skeletal champion. As he clarified, he doesn’t have the power to bring someone back to life, all of his children are undead.

Which meant someone else had actually resurrected me.

Master Keisuke said that whoever raised me did a pretty bad job. Or, he and I noted at the same time, they did a poor job on purpose because they thought it was funny.

He and I were both thinking the same thing. After I’d been sent out to assassinate Baba Yaga, I’d instead made a deal with her to be resurrected.

Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like exactly the sort of thing I’d do.

So the timeline of events I know for sure at this point is: I died in that cave, Keisuke raised me as a skeletal champion, taught me magic, and introduced me to Norgorber worship, but when we took me to the cult they refused to have an undead join. Keisuke tried to convince them to test me, so they sent me on the impossible task of slaying Baba Yaga. I left on my own, and Keisuke killed the entire cult in retribution. When I found Baba Yaga, I presumably made a deal with her to resurrect me, and became the Grim Rider. And then…that’s where I don’t know what happened next, the timeline gets fuzzy. I ended up on Triaxus with a half-elf woman handing over one of Baba Yaga’s keys at one point, and then every other instance I know of I was in Elvana’s service: in Whitethrone and on Triaxus.

Speaking of being in Elvana’s service, Master Keisuke told me he had a gift for me. He brought out a Mirror Man. I felt panic for a moment seeing the familiar form, but he reassured me that this one had it’s connection to the Winter Witches severed. Instead, the vision stored in its mirror was still accessible, and that vision was of me on Triaxus. Me as the Grim Rider.

I could finally get a look at who I had been during my missing year, at what I had forgotten.

Before that, Master Keisuke talked to me about the fact that one of his targets for mythic power was going to be near Whitethrone in two weeks time. He hoped that I was still on board with helping him to gain mythic power—he felt that mythic power would suit me. I think mythic power would suit me, too. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I saw Ratibor fight Kostchtchie. I’d definitely like to procure that power.

Master Keisuke left me to my own devices to watch the Mirror Man’s vision, as he felt it was personal. Although he admitted to having already seen it himself. And from the comment he made about a certain beautiful Battleflower, I knew before watching what at least part of it was going to be.

I activated the Mirror Man once he’d left and began watching. There was a procession of Winter Guard, the Mirror Man recording must have been towards the back. In the center was Queen Elvana. And beside her, in fine dark robes with just a hint of the color the Winter Witches wear to show my station, I strode beside her, head held high.

As we walked past the disposal pit, I looked into it, and clearly saw the white pudding down below. I motioned to one of the Winter Guards to join me. When he did, I grabbed him and held him so he was just over the pit, the pudding reaching for him. The man screamed and flailed in horror in a way completely undignified for his station. I laughed and pulled him away. Queen Elvana told me, ‘Grim Rider please don’t torment my guards’, in a rather bored manner that seemed like she didn’t terribly care what happened to her guards but didn’t like the commotion that came with it.

I’m still not sure how I feel about it. I can see where I thought it was funny, lording my power over those guards. But it seems…pointlessly cruel. Don’t get me wrong, I can be cruel. I’m cruel to people who cross me, or anyone close to me. I won’t deny that. I will gladly revel in being cruel to those who have earned my ire. But what’s the point in tormenting random guards who are just…there? Just for a cheap laugh? That feels so hollow.

The procession continued, and we entered Yrax’s throne room. I recognized this, from the single flash of memory I’d gotten back in Ivoryglass. Yrax seated next to Cesseer, and me standing beside Queen Elvana. But this time I was seeing it in third person. And this time it was more than a single scrap of memory. Queen Elvana greeted Yrax, and sent forward a Winter Guard with a spell book. The guard was killed by the dragon, but he was pleased by the offering.

While the dragon was distracted by the book, Queen Elvana gave me, The Grim Rider, orders to scout out the place. Obediently I obeyed, “Yes, my queen.”

I knew I’d been working for Elvana, I’d been prepared to see this, but hearing myself talking to Elvana—our greatest enemy—obeying her orders, it was surreal.

The queen left, her face dropping into a scowl the moment she was no longer facing the dragon. Honestly that one I can’t fault her for.

I turned to leave the room with the remaining Winter Guards who had been left under my command. When I did, Yrax ordered Cesseer to accompany me. She joined us, and I immediately turned on the charm and we started talking and laughing as soon as we were out of Yrax’s presence.

We made our way through the halls, until we’d reached what I recognized as the guest quarters—specifically Cesseer’s quarters. Cesseer and I slipped away into her room. A moment later I opened the door and told the Winter Guard to buzz off, before closing the door in their faces. The image faded away—that was it.

I don’t know what to say. Even now, after I’ve had some time to think about it. That was who I was over the last year, before I lost my memories. It’s not like I was surprised by anything I saw. I knew I had been working with Elvana, and I knew I must have been a total bastard to do so. But actually seeing myself acting that way made it more real than just hearing about it second hand.

It’s funny, Greta said I’ve changed. I don’t feel like I’ve changed at all. I feel like I’m exactly the same as I’ve always been. Getting here from where I started was so subtle I didn’t even notice it happen. But I barely recognize the Grim Rider, even though he’s me, even though we started from the same place—that same memory of cutting my hand in a cave and falling into darkness. I’m not sure I can even put into words why. It’s not like I have a huge moral objection to him tormenting a Winter Guard, a person I would probably end up killing on the battlefield now anyways. It was just cruelty without any purpose other than his—my—own amusement. Maybe it’s that it feels so…beneath me. It’s like what I said about Yrax having power and not knowing how to use it. Anyone with enough resources can have a minion and push them around. Real power is…something more.

Leaving your minions in shock and awe of your raw potential, impressing them with what you can provide so much that they follow you to the ends of Golarian and back without needing to lay a hand on them. When people follow you because you’re just that charming and powerful and impressive, not just because they’re afraid of you, that’s real power.

But when living minions are in short supply, the undead work just as well. I really need a chance to test out my Create Undead spell…

I’ve lost track of what I was talking about.

Right. The Grim Rider. I think I’ve said about all I can on the subject for now. I…still need some time to think about what I saw in the vision.

After I took some time to process what I’d seen, and finish my tea, I cast a second use of Plane Shift kindly provided to me by Master Keisuke to exit. He’d even reimbursed me the cost of the scroll I’d bought myself, saying he was just so glad to finally just have this chance to talk face-to-face. It was nice.

Although as I was leaving something strange happened. I heard some other voices, voices that weren’t Master Keisuke’s. Eight eerie voices which called out to me as I cast the Plane Shift spell. “Return to the family, Calio.”

It was creepy as fuck if I’m being honest. I had other things on my mind at the time so I didn’t think about it for long at the time, but yeah, that creeped me out. I think it was some of Master Keisuke’s ‘children’. Apparently they don’t like that I’d found a way to bring myself back to life. Sucks to suck, they should have thought of making a deal with Baba Yaga. I’m definitely not planning on going back to being a skeleton anytime soon. I don’t plan on ever dying if I can help it.

…There is a little paranoid voice in the back of my brain that remembers that Master Keisuke told me that when we were done, I could join his family. But I’m just being paranoid thinking he means to return me to his collection of undead…right? He’d have done it already if he was planning that wouldn’t he? Not wait while I grow more powerful and difficult to handle working for Baba Yaga.

Unless that’s what he wants—a more powerful ‘child’.

Fuck. I’m getting too into my own head about this. With everything else that happened regarding Nestian…

I haven’t even gotten to that part yet.

Gods damnit.

Okay.

So after I got back, Talsune gently suggested I eat something since I’d had nothing to eat all day barring the tea I’d had with Master Keisuke. I agreed, and we went to the mess hall. To my surprise, Jadrenka joined our table after some time of myself and my partner eating in companionable silence.

It wasn’t long after Jadrenka had joined us that Nestian burst into the mess hall with a wiggling Edeya in his arms. He said she was under a spell. I identified it as a charm person spell, although that didn’t make sense, whoever cast it would have had to have been nearby—did we have an enemy within the walls of the fortress…?

Jadrenka dispelled the spell and my fears, telling us about a type of witch who uses a mirror as a focus who can cast these types of spells through a scrying sensor. So one fear dispelled, and new worse fear ignited. Edeya’s mirror double could scry on us and hit us with a number of nasty spells at any time, and we had no defenses against it except our natural force of will—which clearly wasn’t enough.

Nestian told me that Edeya had been building a shrine in our room when he’d found her. Edeya said in a jumble that her mirror self ‘somehow knew’. She didn’t explain more until we returned to the room to dismantle the shrine. I recognized the symbol Edeya had made across the shrine—it belonged to a goddess who no longer existed. Sarenrae, the goddess whose holy symbols had all cracked and broken three years ago and whose priests and paladins all lost their powers. Edeya told me and Nestian that she’d once found a pamphlet to Sarenrae and been inspired, despite the worship being illegal in Irrisen back when the goddess was still in power. She had snuck down to her father’s basement and built a shrine to the goddess to pray in secret. Yet when she’d lit the candles, she’d seen something in the mirror. Her reflection didn’t look like her, and it had scared her. She’d dropped the candle, and lit the shrine on fire. The basement went up in flames. Edeya fled—not just the basement but the house. That was the day she ran away.

As Edeya spoke, Nestian and I dismantled the shrine to the dead goddess. Before we were through, however, Edeya went rigid. She suddenly began trembling and pointed at the shrine in horror. She warned us that the shrine was on fire. I immediately recognized the effects of a Fear spell when I saw one. But I had no counters—I cast Fear I don’t ease it. So I could only tell Edeya that it would be over in a moment, before Edeya darted away in terror. Nestian ran after her.

I remained behind, and continued dismantling the shrine. Edeya didn’t need to return to it when she came back. It would be best if it was gone.

When I finished taking it apart, I heard the echoing sound of Edeya’s laughter, but when I looked behind me, she wasn’t there. It was spooky. I get a bad feeling it wasn’t Edeya. Not our Edeya, at least.

I bundled up the pieces and disposed of them, then made my way to the Dancing Hut to have some alone time in my room. It had been a long day, and I desperately wanted to just isolate and think about things by myself for a while.

I only got about an hour of quiet before there was a banging on my door that jarred me from my thoughts. I shot up from my bed, and called for whoever it was to come in, worried it might be an emergency.

Nestian entered, with Aenland and Edeya peeking in from the doorway behind him. In a word, he looked pissed. In more words, he looked like his heart had been ripped out. He was angry, and tears were streaming down his face, all at the same time.

I was utterly taken aback.

Nestian demanded to know what I knew about my master.

It took my brain a moment to process, but when it did I immediately knew where this was going. After the day I’d had, I was far from my usual eloquent self when I tried to deflect by naming off things like the fact he’d saved my life (still…technically true? I certainly wouldn’t be here today if he hadn’t raised me, even if he didn’t actually revive me.), that he’d taught me magic, and then sent me on my way (a really nice way of saying ‘sent me to assassinate our current boss’). Nestian saw through my weak attempt at avoiding what he obviously wanted to talk about. He demanded to know what I was hiding. I asked him what he knew about Keisuke since he clearly knew something. Nestian snapped back that he didn’t know anything for sure, that’s why he was asking. He had to know for sure. So he needed me to tell him what I knew.

If I’d been a better state of mind I probably could have kept the argument going, I probably could have convinced Nestian that I really didn’t know anything more than I claimed, and the assumptions he’d made were mislead. But he clearly already knew the truth, even if he didn’t know for sure that he knew it. And I was so tired from the rest of the day. And I honestly just didn’t want to lie to Nestian. So I told him the truth, that Master Keisuke had been in conflict with his family before.

Nestian asked a strange question next, one I still don’t quite understand. He asked ‘which family?’ At first I thought he meant ‘which family member’, but that didn’t seem to be it, and I didn’t know which family member anyways.

Nestian asked what happened to them. So, I told him honestly that it ended with one of them dying.

Nestian growled out the angriest words I’ve ever heard from him. Your master killed my father.

I didn’t know what to do with that. Obviously Nestian was in the right here. This was a matter of family, of his father, of course he had every right to want my master dead for what he’d done. I’d end the life of anyone who killed someone important to me, and I’d make sure they suffered for it. I can hardly tell Nestian not to do the same.

But at the same time, I owe Master Keisuke my life. If this were less important I’d say I like him, I could learn more from him, I want to join him in gaining mythic power. But really the only thing that comes close to mattering, to being an excuse for why I can’t bring myself to want to raise a weapon against him, is that he is the reason I’m here.

And even that…if there’s a chance he wants to snuff my life out to have me rejoin his ‘family’…I’m not laying down and dying without a fight.

I hadn’t thought of that at the time, though. I’m only just now starting to think about that. And I don’t even know if that’s what he actually wants or if I’m being paranoid after everything that’s happened.

At the time, I said nothing.

So then Nestian asked me if Keisuke asked me to keep this a secret from him.

It was probably kind of 50/50 if I were being honest. Master Keisuke and I were in agreement that neither of us wanted the others to try to kill him. I can’t even remember who floated the idea that I needed to keep my mouth shut first—I think it was Master Keisuke, but I can’t be sure.

That’s not what I said. I said that Master Keisuke had felt it would be best if I didn’t say anything, seeing as if the others knew they would try to kill him.

Nestian said that he was sorry that Keisuke had tricked me. Then he left. And a moment later I heard the loudest roar I’ve ever heard from Nestian, echoing from somewhere else in the Hut.

I was stunned. That is not at all what I had expected. I’m still not entirely sure how to take that last thing he said.

Aenland and Edeya stuck around. Aenland asked me why I stick up for Master Keisuke. He didn’t get it. He said I’m so proud and independent but when it comes to him I chain myself to him. I disagreed, telling him I just take the fact that he saved my life seriously.

Aenland asked if that means he should swear fealty to me, since I brought him back to life. That wasn’t fucking fair. I told Aenland that I didn’t swear fealty to Master Keisuke. Aenland admitted to having maybe exaggerated a bit much, but he still felt that I didn’t owe Keisuke anything.

He placed a hand on my shoulder and told me that if I needed to talk, I knew where to find him. As if I was the one who needed to be comforted! He should have been talking to Nestian, not me.

Aenland left, and Edeya was right behind him. Illivor paused to add that people are more than the people they owe, they’re the actions they take. She knew that all too well.

…I want to make a snide comment about how deep in the pit my life has sunk to be getting comfort and life advice from the former head of the Winter Witches, but honestly, yeah, she does have the lived experience.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I want to do. Greta convinced me not to warn Master Keisuke that the others know for the time being, incase I need him for anything in the near future and want to make contact without him knowing that 90% of my friends want him dead. I want to trust Master Keisuke. He’s been nothing but good to me so far. And if I go with trusting him, I don’t want the others to kill him. But there’s a wary part of me starting to worry that he’s playing a long game and I’m just a piece in it. And if that’s the case…

Well…we’ll just see what happens, I suppose. I don’t really want to think about it. It makes me…unhappy to consider.

#journal entry #pathfinder #reign of winter

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charlenasaxen · 1 month ago

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King Lear Quotes

“though this

knave came something saucily to the world before he was

sent for”

“yet was his mother fair, there was good sport at his

making”

“Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the map there.”

“What shall Cordelia speak? Love and be silent.”

“LEAR Speak.

CORDELIA Nothing, my lord.”

“With my two daughters’ dowers digest the third. Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.”

“only we shall retain

The name and all th’addition to a king: the sway,

Revenue, execution of the rest,

Belovèd sons, be yours”

“This coronet part between you.

Gives them coronet to break in half”

“The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,

That justly think’st, and hast most rightly said”

“Will you have her?

She is herself a dowry.”

“I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father

That you must lose a husband.”

“Since that respect and fortunes are his love,

I shall not be his wife”

“Love well our father:

To your professèd bosoms I commit him”

“When my dimensions are as well compact,

My mind as generous, and my shape as true,

As honest madam’s issue?”

“The quality of nothing hath not such need

to hide itself. Let’s see: come, if it be nothing I shall not need

spectacles.”

“admirable evasion115

of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish116 disposition on the

charge of a star!”

“My father compounded117 with my mother

under the dragon’s tail”

“Pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old comedy: my cue122

is villainous melancholy”

“Whose nature is so far from doing harms

That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty

My practices159 ride easy”

“I’ll write

straight to21 my sister, to hold my course”

“How now, what art thou?

KENT A man, sir.”

“ho, dinner! Where’s my knave41? My fool? Go you and call my

fool hither.”

“I will look further

into’t. But where’s my fool? I have not seen him this two

days.”

“Since my young lady’s going into France, sir, the

fool hath much pined away”

“I’ll not be strucken80, my lord.

Nor tripped neither, you base football81 player.”

“thou bor’st

thine ass on thy back o’er the dirt”

“yet I would not be thee, nuncle: thou hast pared160 thy wit

o’both sides and left nothing i’th’middle”

“now thou art an O without a figure166.

I am better than thou art now: I am a fool, thou art nothing”

“Degenerate224 bastard! I’ll not trouble thee.

Yet have I left a daughter.”

“Create her child of spleen, that it may live

And be a thwart disnatured torment to her”

“cast you, with the waters that you loose277,

To temper clay278. Ha? Let it be so.

I have another daughter,

Who, I am sure, is kind”

“You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.

FOOL Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, take the fool with thee.”

“Then, I prithee be merry: thy wit shall not go slip-shod.”

“Why, to keep one’s eyes of either side’s20 nose, that what a man cannot smell out he may spy into”

“Why, to put’s head in, not to give it away to his daughters and leave his horns without a case”

“Because they are not eight.

FOOL Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool.”

“If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I’d have thee beaten for being old before thy time”

“Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise”

“She that’s a maid now, and laughs at my departure,

Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.”

“Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means

To make thee capable”

“Prithee, if thou lov’st me, tell me5.

KENT I love thee not.

OSWALD Why then, I care not for thee.”

“A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats”

“one whom I will beat into clamorous

whining if thou deny’st the least syllable of thy addition”

“Help, ho! Murder! Murder!”

“A tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter could not have made him so ill”

“His countenance likes me not”

Why, fool?

“Vengeance, plague, death, confusion!”

“’Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.”

“Thy half o’th’kingdom hast thou not forgot,

Wherein I thee endowed”

“But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter —

Or rather a disease that’s in my flesh”

“Shut up your doors, my lord, ’tis a wild night.

My Regan counsels well: come out o’th’storm.”

“The codpiece that will house

Before the head has any”

“This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I live before his time”

“The younger rises when the old doth fall”

“Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand

For lifting food to’t?”

“Off, off, you lendings! Come, unbutton here.

Tears off his clothes”

“His wits begin t’unsettle”

“His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent!

He said it would be thus, poor banished man!”

“I will lay trust upon thee, and thou shalt find a dear father in my love”

“Trey, Blanch and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me”

“throw his head unclear; presumably a threatening gesture”

“Fellows, hold the chair—

Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot”

“REGAN Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?

Kills him

SERVANT O, I am slain!”

“Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell

His way to Dover.”

“Regan, I bleed apace:

Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm.”

“As flies to wanton boys are we to th’gods:

They kill us for their sport.”

“Is that the naked fellow?”

“when madmen lead the blind”

“Sirrah, naked fellow—“

“Poor Tom shall lead thee”

“This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer:

’Tis from your sister”

“being widow, and my Gloucester with her”

“There is means, madam:

Our foster-nurse of nature is repose”

“No blown ambition doth our arms incite,

But love, dear love, and our aged father’s right:

Soon may I hear and see him!”

“Himself in person there?

OSWALD Madam, with much ado4:

Your sister is the better soldier.”

“Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you

Transport her purposes by word?”

“Edmund and I have talked,

And more convenient is he for my hand”

“Would I could meet, madam, I should show

What party I do follow.

REGAN Fare thee well.”

“Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect

By your eyes’ anguish”

“O you mighty gods!

This world I do renounce, and in your sights

Shake patiently my great affliction off”

“If Edgar live, O, bless him!—

Now, fellow, fare thee well.”

“Alack, I have no eyes.

Is wretchedness deprived that benefit,

To end itself by death?”

“For Gloucester’s bastard son was kinder to his father

Than were my daughters”

“And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office.”

“Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thy own back”

“Place sins with gold,

And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks:

Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.”

“Let me have surgeons:

I am cut to th’brains”

“Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse:

If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body”

“A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life,

And the exchange my brother!”

“Give me your hand:

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.

Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend.”

“Was this a face

To be opposed against the jarring winds?

Mine enemy’s dog though he had bit me

Should have stood that night against my fire”

“You are a spirit, I know: where did you die?”

“O, look upon me, sir,

And hold your hand in benediction o’er me:

You must not kneel.”

“I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks I should know you and know this man,

Yet I am doubtful”

“If you have poison for me, I will drink it.

I know you do not love me, for your sisters

Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:

You have some cause, they have not.”

“No cause, no cause.”

“Will’t please your highness walk?

LEAR You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.”

“Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be enjoyed

If both remain alive”

“my state

Stands on me to defend, not to debate”

“If ever I return to you again,

I’ll bring you comfort.

GLOUCESTER Grace go with you, sir!”

“Away, old man! Give me thy hand, away!

King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en:

Give me thy hand, come on.

GLOUCESTER No further, sir: a man may rot even here.”

“Enter in conquest, with Drum and Colours, Edmund, Lear and Cordelia as prisoners”

“Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?

LEAR No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison.

We two alone will sing like birds i’th’cage”

“pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh”

“Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,

The gods themselves throw incense”

“Sir, by your patience,

I hold you but a subject of this war,

Not as a brother”

“By me invested, he compeers the best.

ALBANY That were the most if he should husband you.

REGAN Jesters do oft prove prophets.”

“Mean you to enjoy him?”

“Half-blooded fellow, yes.”

“Stay yet, hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee

On capital treason, and, in thy arrest,

This gilded serpent. For your claim, fair sister,

I bar it in the interest of my wife”

“Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound”

“First trumpet

HERALD Again!

Second trumpet

HERALD Again!

Third trumpet

Trumpet answers within

Enter Edgar armed”

“Yet am I noble as the adversary

I come to cope”

“What’s he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?

EDMUND Himself: what say’st thou to him?”

“if my speech offend a noble heart,

Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine”

“from th’extremest upward of thy head

To the descent and dust below thy foot

A most toad-spotted traitor”

“This sword, this arm and my best spirits are bent

To prove upon thy heart whereto I speak,

Thou liest”

“Save him, save him!

GONERIL This is practice, Gloucester: By th’law of war thou wast not bound to answer”

“Most monstrous! O, know’st thou this paper?

EDMUND Ask me not what I know.”

“What you have charged me with, that have I done,

And more, much more: the time will bring it out”

“Removes his helmet

My name is Edgar, and thy father’s son”

“The dark and vicious place where thee he got

Cost him his eyes”

“hoping, of this good success,

I asked his blessing”

“It came even from the heart of — O, she’s dead!”

“I was contracted to them both: all three

Now marry in an instant”

“I am come

To bid my king and master aye goodnight:

Is he not here?”

“Speak, Edmund, where’s the king? And where’s Cordelia?”

“Yet Edmund was beloved:

The one the other poisoned for my sake

And after slew herself.”

“EDMUND I pant for life: some good I mean to do”

“Run, run, O, run!

EDGAR Send thy token of reprieve.

EDMUND Well thought on: take my sword”

“To hang Cordelia in the prison and

To lay the blame upon her own despair”

“Edmund is borne off

ALBANY The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.”

“Enter Lear with Cordelia in his arms

LEAR Howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones”

“Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so

That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone for ever!”

“ALBANY Fall and cease!

LEAR This feather stirs: she lives! If it be so,

It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows

That ever I have felt.”

“Cordelia, Cordelia! Stay a little. Ha?

What is’t thou say’st?— Her voice was ever soft”

“Mine eyes are not o’th’best: I’ll tell you straight”

“Edmund is dead, my lord.”

“All friends shall taste

The wages of their virtue, and all foes

The cup of their deservings”

“And my poor fool is hanged! No, no, no life?

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,

And thou no breath at all?”

“Never, never, never, never, never!”

“Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips”

“Look there, look there!

He dies

EDGAR He faints! My lord, my lord!

KENT Break, heart, I prithee, break.”

“Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! He hates him

That would upon the rack of this tough world

Stretch him out longer.”

“The wonder is he hath endured so long:

He but usurped his life”

“Bear them from hence. Our present business

Is general woe”

“Friends of my soul, you twain

Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain”

“KENT I have a journey, sir, shortly to go:

My master calls me, I must not say no.”

“EDGAR The weight of this sad time we must obey:

Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.

The oldest hath borne most: we that are young

Shall never see so much nor live so long.”

“Exeunt with a dead march”

#quotes #king lear #love you willy shakes

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pint4punt · 5 months ago

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Changing of the Guard:

4 Teams on the Rise and 4 Teams on the Outs

As with every year in the NFL, turnover is aplenty and teams make bold, auspicious moves aimed at turning their franchise into a true contender or (more importantly to some Owners) a team that puts more asses in the seats than yesteryear! On the other side of that coin, we have the teams who maxed out their credit cards with overpriced veterans and ‘savvy’ draft picks that ultimately…….were as risky as advertised. Word to the wise, Afterpay is a slippery slope!

This is a key reason about half the playoff deck gets reshuffled year-to-year with the only sure bet being that Mahomes and the Chiefs will win the Super Bowl if anything other than Tom Brady gets thrown at them. With the regular season (FINALLY) back this week, today we’ll call our shots on four candidates to regress and miss the playoffs and four newcomers on the rise we expect to make some serious noise!

Budding Super Bowl Contender Houston Texans?

Sure this team made the playoffs last year, but it’s hard not to view them through a different lens this time around. It seems only yesterday the Houston Texans were the favorite punching bag of the national media as well as this particular group of stooges. Yet after a prolific offseason, we’re once again reminded of what one great draft class can do for even the most hopeless franchises. Even most die hard Texans fans couldn’t name more than 3 players on their 2022 roster. Fast forward to 2024 and they might just be the most loaded team in the AFC.

The stars truly aligned for the…..star last year when the Panthers chose Bryce Young over CJ Stroud, allowing hometown hero Demeco Ryans to immediately find his franchise quarterback before his new team had even played a snap. What Stroud went on to accomplish as a rookie could only be described as sensational and prodigious. This clearly isn’t lost on the Texans as they spent nearly $180 million in free agency to ensure the sequel is even better than the original, adding elite talent such as Danielle Hunter, Joe Mixon, and Stefon Diggs.

For a team that already features the reigning Offensive AND Defensive Rookie of the Year in Stroud and Will Anderson respectively, along with breakout stars such as Tank Dell, Nico Collins, & Noah Brown, these moves are all very aggressive. Like OJ fed up with his wife aggressive. And we fucking love it. Stroud is cheap, the Salary Cap is only going up, and no Quarterback has taken the league by storm this fast since our Lord and Commander Patrick Mahomes (and he had a year to marinate). The Texans won the division and a playoff game in the first year of the new guard, just imagine what they can do with a shit ton of spending and another year in the system.

Sun Setting for the Cowboys?

God bless the Dallas Cowboys, they truly disappoint their fans every year. And in our opinion, the annual letdown will be them getting bounced from playoff contention altogether this year (which just means their season will be a week shorter than usual). While that’s not as fun as watching epic playoff collapses where they get blown out at home by a QB with no postseason experience or lose on the road while playing an aging Running Back at center, we just don’t think they have the horses this go round.

Sure, you can put star players like CeeDee Lamb and Micah Parsons up against the best of the best in the league and Dak Prescott is a regular season hero. But that clearly hasn’t been enough when the lights get brighter and Jerry Jones did nothing to address that in an offseason in which he claimed to be ‘all in’. Mix in lingering contract extensions for Dak, Micah, & Head Coach Mike McCarthy along with rumblings of player discontent with Jerry Jones and it’s easy to see a playoff picture sans Dallas. That is of course unless resigning their long snapper galvanizes the locker room!

Can a New Super Weapon Help Kyler Murray return to prominence?

The Cardinals first raised eyebrows last year when they handed the aforementioned Cowboys, a team viewed by many as a Super Bowl contender, their first loss of the year. The team many expected to be in the Caleb Williams’ sweepstakes looked surprisingly competitive and competent under first year Head Coach Jonathan Gannon. And that was without former first overall pick Kyler Murray in tow, who didn’t make his debut until Week 10 as he continued to rehab a torn ACL.

Less than a year later, the Cardinals arguably came away with the best consolation prize of the draft in Marvin Harrison Jr., a player viewed every bit as talented if not more so than his Hall of Fame father. Murray and the Cardinals needed an injection of talent in the wake of moving on from an aging Deandre Hopkins and lacking a true number one receiving threat. Between the projected rookie phenom, promising young tight end Trey McBride, a backfield duo of James Connor & Trey Benson, and a healthier Murray with a proper offseason in Gannon’s system, it’s easy to envision this team giving the established threats of the NFC serious hell and returning to the playoffs this year.

Will the Jaguars Regret Paying Trevor Lawrence?

In Doug Pederson’s first year, the Jaguars had to feel like the sky was the limit. Pederson took over for a coach with more controversies than Hunter Biden and it took the eventual Super Bowl Champions to end their season in the divisional round. Surely, with another year in the system and the addition of an alpha receiver rested up from a gambling suspension, this team could only do better right?

Despite a bit of a rocky start, it sure looked that way in the early throngs of the 2023 season as the Jaguars started off 6-2. Then they ran into a really pissed off San Francisco team coming off a three game losing streak (and a bye week) and Mr. Irrelevant made all the throws a number one overall selected QB simply couldn’t in a 34-3 drubbing. Which really begs the question Jags’ fans must hate asking themselves: Is Trevor Lawrence really the guy?

Sure his college highlights are spectacular and Joel Klatt probably personally sucked him off before the 2021 draft. But what has he actually done as a starter in the league? 20-30 record, averages 13 interceptions a year, has never broken 30 touchdowns in a season, and now he cost $275 Million. Couple that with missing the playoffs last year, losing his top weapon in Calvin Ridley (to a division rival no less) and the AFC South taking significant strides this offseason, and it’s easy to see this team disappoint even more than your first time.

The Atlanta Falcons Might Have Overcorrected, but You Would Too with Desmond Ridder

Heading into 2024, Hotlanta had gone the way of Sydney Sweeney in their three most recent drafts, opting to do the sexiest thing possible at every turn. Instead of the functional family friendly crossover SUVs such as Offensive Tackles or Defensive Lineman, they’ve consistently spent Top 10 Picks on Sports Cars such as a Tight End 4th overall in 2021 and using the 8th overall pick in back-to-back years on a Wide Receiver and a dynamic pass catching Running Back. This was all done for a grouchy walking taint of a Head Coach who refused to use any of these incredible weapons purely out of spite just to fuck your fantasy team even if it meant going 7-10 every year. Needless to say, that didn’t sit well with Ownership and there’s a new sheriff in town with the homecoming of Raheem Morris.

Morris didn’t mince words about the other major problem with this team at his introductory press conference and well, regardless of what you think about how they addressed the QB room, you can’t argue that they didn’t thoroughly address it. While some felt paying Kirk Cousins $180 million and then selecting Michael Penix Jr. (you guessed it!) 8th overall, was overkill and detracted from a potential Super Bowl 59 run, you have to admire the balls of this organization to say ‘fuck it’ year in and year out. While the QB situation could easily get messier than Drake’s family tree if this team doesn’t gel right away, it can’t be worse than watching Arthur Smith take turns screaming at Desmond Ridder and Taylor Heinicke for not executing his genius trick play to his back up Tight End every week.

Incoming Growing Pains for the Buffalo Bills who are Still Looking to Pop That Elusive Cherry

Look as stupid as we are (and make no mistake we are very stupid) even we wouldn’t be so ignorant as to imply that a team featuring Josh Allen at Quarterback wouldn’t be a serious threat to any opponent they face. That being said, it’s hard to envision this team being the powerhouse that had many deeming it a Super Bowl favorite two years ago. Between age and cap constraints, Buffalo had to thin the herd this offseason, opting to move on from key players such as Center Mitch Morse, Safety Jordan Poyer, Cornerback Tre’Davious White, Outside Linebacker Leonard Floyd, and most notably, Wide Receiver Stefon Diggs to name a few. Jesus there’s reshuffling the deck and then there’s declaring bankruptcy. Hell Brandon Beane even said on Hard Knocks that he wouldn’t move into the top 10 because he couldn’t afford to pay a pick that high.

Buffalo shifted their identity last year after firing Offensive Coordinator Ken Dorsey and handing play calling over to Joe Brady mid-season. It was a bold strategy Cotton, but it paid off as Buffalo went from being outside the playoff picture to winning the division. They’ll need their ‘Run First’* identity to carry over into 2024 as they rely on a receiver by committee approach in light of the Diggs trade. Their best hope is Keon Coleman winning over Josh Allen as fast as he probably won over Macy’s Corporate Team (seriously where is the fucking endorsement deal guys???)

The Bears’ Optimism Runs as Deep as Their Pizza

Before Caleb Williams even touched a football with his meticulously manicured nails on the pro stage, many already believed the first overall pick would go on to be the best Quarterback in the history of the Bears’ franchise. That’s both a bold take and a testament to the sheer mediocrity Chicago has fielded at the game’s most important position year after year. His preseason performance did nothing to dissuade this notion either, with him making several eye popping throws in limited action. While the Bears are infamous for never having a QB eclipse 4,000 passing yards and for giving Aaron Rodgers controlling ownership of their franchise, there is finally genuine reason for fans to be excited both long and short term.

While Caleb is still unproven at the pro level and we’ve all been woefully underwhelmed by another ‘generational prospect’ in this article, he couldn’t possibly be set up better coming into the league. The Bears really laid the groundwork for this rebuild last year when they insisted on DJ Moore being included in Carolina’s package for the 2023 1st Overall Pick. That trade gave them a true number one receiver with which to properly evaluate previous starter Justin Fields as well a key piece for the future.

What they couldn’t have seen coming was Bryce Young and the Panthers being so god damn awful that it would also yield the 2024 1st Overall Pick. But they didn’t stop there. They traded for Keenan Allen coming off one of his most successful years in the pros (which is saying a lot given his resume) and used their own first rounder on arguably the best Wide Receiver in this year’s draft not named Marvin Harrison Jr. If Caleb Williams can’t succeed with two elite veterans who combined for over 2,600 yards and 15 touchdowns last year, one of the top young weapons in this draft, and a Defense that tied for first in interceptions (22) last year, then it’s time for Chicago to start asking if they’re truly cursed at the position.

Miami is Now in the Eye of Hurricane Tua

The Dolphins are one of the most entertaining teams to watch in the entire league when they’re firing on all cylinders. It’s like poetry in motion and ballet wrapped together in teal and orange. The problems surface when they run into physically imposing teams that disrupt their flow and make Quarterback Tua Tagovailoa uncomfortable.

Let’s be honest, their Wild Card playoff loss to the Chiefs was every bit as predictable as the Democratic Party forcing Biden to drop out of the election. Like actual dolphins, they thrive in their own environment, but get them in the bitter cold of January and they quickly become endangered. Sure the idea of OBJ joining a receiving corps that already features Tyreek Hill and Jaylen Waddle sounds exciting, but Miami hasn’t struggled in January because of a lack of receivers and Tua isn’t likely to connect with his plethora of weapons often if he has disrupters in the AFC like Will Anderson and Danielle Hunter breathing down his neck.

Further complicating matters is the Dolphins giving said finesse QB $212 million dollars. 2024 is the calm before the storm, because as things currently stand, Miami is $29 million over the cap for 2025 per Spotrac. With a wide receiver duo in Hill and Waddle set to (justifiably) cost over $51 million next year, this season is feeling a little last-dancey for a team that seems ill-equipped to play football in the winter.

Don’t get us wrong, we think Mike McDaniel is unequivocally one of the brightest offensive minds in the league. But at the end of the day, it was east to push this team around last year and with offseason losses such as Defensive Tackle Christian Wilkins, Linebacker Andrew Van Ginkel, and Guard Robert Hunt, along with a now very expensive Quarterback who has yet to win a playoff game, we fully expect them to be drive hunted by the best of the AFC. But hey, for our money, they still have excellent fantasy options and the best coke in the nation!

Don’t agree with our list? Fuck you! Just kidding, give us your thoughts in the comments.

#nfl #football #houston texans #dallas cowboys #chicago bears #jacksonville jaguars #buffalo bills #miami dolphins #atlanta falcons #arizona cardinals

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