#Plunder Patroll

[fyeahygocardart]

Whitebeard, the Plunder Patroll Helm

#Whitebeard the Plunder Patroll Helm #Plunder Patroll #yugioh #ygo #yugioh tcg #ygo tcg #Fiend #WATER #Tuner Monster

[dash-n-step]

loving how they gave the Plunder Patroll a solo mode

#dashingposts #dashingplays #yugioh #plunder patroll #dashingplays: master duel #master duel #yugioh ocg #yugioh rcg

[yugiohcardsdaily]

Blackbeard, the Plunder Patroll Captain

“2 monsters including a ‘Plunder Patroll’ monster (Quick Effect): You can target 1 Effect Monster you control; Special Summon 1 ‘Plunder Patroll’ monster from your Extra Deck with the same Attribute as a monster your opponent controls or is in their GY, and if you do, equip that target to it, then draw 1 card. You can only use this effect of ‘Blackbeard, the Plunder Patroll Captain’ once per turn.”

#blackbeard the plunder patroll captain #yugioh #yu-gi-oh #yu-gi-oh cards #duel monsters

[lizzieraindrops]

Destiny is a story about shapes and grief.

I think I may have figured out Destiny. I don't think the primary conflict between the Light and the Darkness is the philosophical issue we thought it was.

I got thinking about it after all this talking, with many others but especially @jazzhandsmcleg, about the way all of The Witch Queen DLC and its 4 seasons have had overarching narratives surrounding trauma and cycles of violence and grief, and the way the Darkness and the Light are characterized by their different approaches to it.

In TWQ, Savathûn is given a true second chance for her species in the Light. But as Ikora points out, she struggles to break free of the learned patterns of the Darkness, continuing the pattern of deception and violence.

Same with Season of the Risen - it’s the Warlords and Dark Ages all over again, but this time it’s the Hive. It forces once again to ask: what does it mean to be given a second chance if this is what you do with it? Temper this with Saladin’s story about the girl from the Dark Ages who he protected, but who became a cruel mortal Warlord in her own right. Crow objects to the mental torture of the Hive Lightbearers and he tries to break from the cycle of interspecies violence, but unintentionally ends up continuing it by killing the Psion and heightening tensions between humans and the Uluran.

Season of the Haunted!!! Literally, the entire thing is about confronting your traumas and greatest fears and the worst parts about yourself and beginning to heal them, making something better from them. Completely changing the game by turning Nightmares that torment into Memories that guide you. Crow with the memory of Uldren, Zavala with that of Safiyah, Caiatl that of Ghaul - and most importantly, resolution focuses on how they, specifically have been held back from healing by their self-incriminating Nightmares. It challenges the cycle of continuing violence on a very personal level. Eris even has patrol dialogue describing the a Nightmare as a thing of pain craving only more pain: "Such is the cycle."

Season of Plunder brings up the very same questions on a much higher organizational level. It gives us Eido and Eramis taking very different jaded vs. new-hope approaches to the legacy of the Whirlwind, asking: can we change? Are we defined by generational trauma forever? Can we continue to grow and change for the better even though it can never be undone? Though Eido is clearly young and naïve, we're clearly given the opportunity and narrative nudge to sympathize with her desire and hope for growth and redemption, both for the Eliksni overall, and for Eramis in particular.

And we're not even done with Season of the Seraph, but it already goes incredibly hard asking the same questions, again from a more personal angle. How far, and through how many generations is trauma transmitted? From the Bray family to Rasputin, to Felwinter to Osiris to Ikora – how do we fix this? How do we fix this? How do you defeat an enemy who IS war itself? What can you do to end an endless cosmic cycle of violence?

Go back and back and back in Destiny's lore even back to D1, and the majority of conflicts seem driven by this cycle of grief and revenge and violence. The entire line of humanity's war with the Hive goes back through Oryx's grief for Crota and the First Crota Fireteam and Eriana-3's grief for her wife Wei Ning. Even the Hive siblings' pact with the Worm Gods, though manipulated by Rhulk, was driven by the pain and grief they endured for themselves and their people, and wanting to escape that cruel pattern. The entire predicament of the Eliksni and their conflict with humans is driven by the trauma and grief and loss of the Whirlwind. Even Caiatl's empire, a conquering force that would be highly regarded by the sword logic, now must reckon with the same kind of loss in the Fall of Torobatl.

How do you escape this cycle and stay free of it?

I think, this year, we are finally seeing the beginnings of an answer.

I can't highly enough recommend the TWQ Collector's Edition lorebook (page scans & transcript) and The Hidden Dossier (page scans & transcript) that immediately follows it. What I've been calling Ikora's theory of "memory and grace" that she develops through the course of these two lore books is a balanced philosophy of memory/Darkness and grace/Light (which honestly deserves an entire post of its own). I think it clearly points toward the final resolution the story of the conflict between the Darkness and the Light.

In light of this, something in the Calus part of the new Lightfall CE lorebook (images, transcript) really jumped out at me.

“The doomed and the damned left the record of their downfall in the OXA. Your star got its name from the oldest myths in that archive. And when your mother told your father that story…the star became your name. A prayer that all will go as it must…and the way it must go is struggle.” “Aiat.” Not a word in Ulurant or any other Cabal tongue. “But Caiatl means something else..” “Yes. ‘It may not always go as it needs to go.’ A good name for a soldier." "A strange name for a daughter," I say. "Your father chose it for your mother's sake. Out of love."

And because the parallel is so overwhelmingly striking, I am once again going to reference philosophy/worldbuilding from the Young Wizards universe, which has great resonance with Destiny lore and which Bungie has been long aware of and has even been referenced in Forsaken-era canon lore.

“all the fair things skewed, all the beauty twisted by the dark Lone Power watching on his steed. If only there were some way he could be otherwise if he wanted to! For here was his name, a long splendid flow of syllables in the Speech, wild and courageous in its own way—and it said that he had not always been so hostile; that he got tired sometimes of being wicked, but his pride and his fear of being ridiculed would never let him stop. Never, forever, said the symbol at the very end of his name, the closed circle that binds spells into an unbreakable cycle and indicates lives bound the same way.” [...] “Nita bent quickly over the Book and, with the pen, in lines of light, drew from that final circle an arrow pointing upward, the way out, the symbol that said change could happen—if, only if—and together they finished the Starsnuffer’s name in the Speech, said the new last syllable, made it real.” Excerpt From: Diane Duane. “So You Want to Be a Wizard, New Millennium Edition.”

CAIATL’S NAME IS LITERALLY THE UP-AND-OUT SYMBOL.

I know I'm probably only talking to the handful of Destiny players from the (very small) Young Wizards fandom, but what you need to know is that this moment is pivotal and sets up the series-long theme of hope for an eventual exit from the cycle. It's the incredibly small, overwhelmingly improbable possibility of a second chance, a new start for the Lone Power, the source of all strife and suffering, who itself is driven by loss and pain. A concept of extended grace that is inherently tied to the philosophy of the Light.

“Billions of years, it took. All the redemptions there have ever been went toward this; from the greatest to the least. And finally in the fullness of time you came along, and took my role, of your own will, and woke up a race powerful enough to change the whole Universe, and gave them the fire.” She glanced up at the mobiles and smiled. “How could he resist such a bait? He took the gamble: he always does. And losing, he won.” [...] “The Defender reached down and put a hand into the shadow. “And we are going where such matters are transcended… where all his old pains will shift. Not forgotten, but transformed. Life in this universe will never have such a friend. And as for His inventions… look closely at Death, and see what it can become.” The long, prone darkness began to burn, from inside, the way a mountain seems to do with sunset. “Brother,” the Defender said. “Come on. They’re waiting.” Excerpt From: Diane Duane. “High Wizardry New Millennium Edition.”

This is the devil’s second chance, its homecoming. Grace among the memory. How do we heal this? By fixing it. By making and TAKING that opportunity of grace.

Likewise, Destiny is shaping up into its own universe’s story of this Reconfiguration, the remaking of everything that exists through the act of a second chance, both offered and taken, with full awareness of the irreversibility of harm already caused.

Destiny isn’t the story of the light and the darkness fighting each other. That happens, but that’s not what it’s ABOUT.

It’s “And I know exactly what we are. We’re best frenemies with a history of intense mutual hurt and messy reconciliation, leaving a deep tenderness as well as an almost impenetrable knot of scars. What could be simpler?” (Chalco)

It's “For so long, I believed peace was beyond my reach. No more. I have found it in guiding others down the same path that saved me. But… I might allow myself to want more than peace. What, I am not certain. Is joy the word? Might I find that again?” (Eris)

It's “Second chances… hm. Turns out I've been using mine wrong. I thought being a Guardian was my destiny. That wielding the Light for good was the most I had to offer. But it's clear now. This is what the Traveler chose me for. I was reforged in the Light for a purpose. To remake something dead and gone… into something beautiful. To learn how to forge something new from what we were. Everything Uldren did to the Reef, the Scorn… Fikrul. I have a responsibility — no — a calling to make them whole. And… I can't replace Cayde. But I can cover his old patrols — maybe organize the Hunters a bit, if they'll let me. Clean up some of my mess. I don't know if I can fix everything Uldren left broken… but I can try.” (Crow)

We aren’t defeating the Darkness. That’s never what it’s been about. It’s about breaking the cycle of trauma and grief with memory and grace. We're transcending the Final Shape, but we're not here to destroy it or become it. We’re harmonizing the Darkness and the Light into a sustainable balance to create something new from the wounded remains.

We're here to heal the broken relationship between the Winnower and the Gardener.

That's all that it is, in the end. They had a falling out, and now they hurt, and they hurt each other, and everything else, forever. Breaking free from that cycle begins and ends with them.

Is that fair? No, it's not.

But Destiny is – unhingedly, brilliantly, paradoxically – a FPS game about how to stop killing each other, growing ever more into a framework of restorative and reparative justice.

The story says, we are all culpable, we have all done awful shit and have endless potential to do more awful shit – AND, most critically, we all have the potential to do better (grace). AND, the act of making the conscious choice to do so and letting that happen is the only way for things to get better (memory).

The Collapse happened and it was horrible, the Red War happened and it was horrible, the Great Disaster happened and it was horrible, Twilight Gap happened and it was horrible...AND?? HOW ARE YOU GOING TO RESPOND? The Whirlwind happened and it was horrible! The Fall of Torobatl happened and it was horrible! Your species' Choice was stolen and you became the most prolifically violent killers in the universe and it was and is horrible! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?

Are you going to make it more horrible? Or are you going to make it BETTER????

Are you going to fight for the Final Shape, or for the gentle kingdom ringed in spears?

#destiny 2 #destiny the game #young wizards #lightfall #destiny lightfall #the final shape #destiny lore #shapes and grief #memory and grace #the reconfiguration #lizzie taking up space #the winnower and the gardener #the winnower #the gardener #gentle kingdom ringed in spears #yw really was relevant #jazzhandsmcleg #long post #and i mean a lONg Ass Post. #some intense meta here #lore

[bbc-trolls]

Yep, okay brain. Pirate Feud AU

Pop Royalty is held captive on their home island by a race of seabeasts (bergens).

On the night of an enormous family fight, the four BroZone bros disband and sneak off into unknown waters through a storm. They'd rather risk dying than deal with their interrelational issues.

Couple years later, a lonely Branch feels abandoned and sings his heart out on the cliff over the sea, attracting a seabeast who eats Rosiepuff.

Not long after, King Peppy launches the escape. Their homeland is pummeled by angry seabeasts, but most of the the trolls escape on their great ship (and one smaller convoy of life rafts goes unnoticed)

Twenty years pass and the great ship becomes the shell of a new home on a new island hidden by storms. Only Branch lives offland, patrolling the island on his tricked-out sailboat, paranoid that they'll be attacked again.

John Dory ended up with Rhonda, a whale sub who swallowed him like Jonah. He's a smelly pirate who's living his best life using Rhonda to navigate the seas looking for treasure (and rum) and tries his best to forget the decimated island he tried to go home to.

Bruce's restaurant is one of those neutral territory outposts, on an isle of giants. He's good at listening in for gossip amongst the ratty sailors and deadly pirates - this is how he knows his brothers are alive, and that his home island is a wasteland now. Brandy and his kids are enough for him to be happy, though.

Clay established a life working on a tradeboat as a teen. But of course years later that same tradeboat got boarded by a rag-tag bunch of trolly pirates and plundered. To Clay's surprise, it's the long lost princess Viva! And she's on her way to becoming a pirate queen. She enlists the lost troll to be her first mate.

Floyd didn't want to be apart from his family at first, and simply dreamed of a better life. He left home the same night his older brothers did, and the currants swept him to a land of fame and glamour, where the siren calls kept him away for far longer than he'd planned.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls au #pirate feud au #brozone

[dairy-farmer]

*Distant sound of frantic running getting closer* *slams door open, eyes manic*

Symbiote AU!!!

Dairy, how have we missed this!? What FOOLS we've been! Bruce! A Symbiote! "Batman" just an extention or suit!

But then? How is there a Bruce Wayne? Simple. His parents found him. Loved their alien baby. Not everyone has to look human to be accepted. BUT! THIS Brucie? A handsome, but sickly man! Because he has no Host? Extremely vulnerable to noise and heat.

Poor, poor Wayne Orphan. Hospitals abroad all his youth.

Batman was an ambush predator. Ten times more terrifying, for having to fight smart. Swallow goons and spit them out. Hijack their bodies like a living nightmare. A true cryptid of Fear.

But ROBIN? Changes EVERYTHING. Dick let's him in. Brucie get "better". He can teach Dick from inside a suit of himself. So, SO much stronger then he's ever been. They are devastating.

Dick grows up. Doesn't want to be US. Wants to be HIM. Arguments. Painful, loud, screaming Arguments.

Jason.

The cycle repeated. But WORSE. Jason leaves him behind. He DIES because Bruce isn't there to take the blow. Isn't there to dig him out and heal him. Too late.

Tim!

Who KNOWS what he is. Who he threatens but can not scare off. Can FEEL the love and support from. Is burned by it. Tries to make hate him, by wearing his body like a suit. Batman has never been so active. So strong.

He knows it leave Tim exhausted. Weak and queasy. Cold and in need of comfort.

He refuses to give it. Alfred is displeased, does it for him.

Dick nearly brings the roof down. Apoplectic. Threatens to take Tim AWAY. To his team across the map. Do better. Or Else.

Bruce is quietly frantic. Has become so used to Tim's body. The comfort and companionship. He... he can't lose this. Not again. He'll go insane. Awkwardly, he tries to do better.

Tim is thrilled.

Tim needs to eat more. He notes. Sleep more. Forgot to brush his teeth. He drags Tim back to do these things. Is wrapped around his flesh and bone. Cuddles around him, as he naps. Rarely forming his deco body anymore.

Finally getting to... to indulge his instincts, he supposes. Tim is not his son. Is his Host instead. It's different somehow.

Puberty is cruel. Hits Tim like a hammer. Sudden new needs and no experience or time to deal with them. Tim is distracted and suffering. Trying to find excuses to... to SEPERATE?! No. No, no, no! He can't do this again.

He knows WHY Tim wants to be alone. Ridiculous boundaries and bodily needs. But the are One. Tim is HIS. Came to HIM and offered! He doesn't need "boundaries" or "private time"! He just needs his needs met. That's easy.

Tentacles while in the shower. Tim ends up on his knees, scrambling against the tiles, as his vigin hole is plundered. His tits and clit teased with in an inch of his life. Good spots rubbed from angles only someone free floating around inside his body could manage.

See? Bruce told you he could fix it.

He can also mimic clothes. Are those REALLY panties? Or is it Bruce, filling up Tim with squirming tentacles and teasing, clit sucking goo? Making him walk around like that? Bathing suit? Or Bruce? Nightshirt? Or Bruce? And what is he doing to the cute little body underneath that "cloth"?

To say NOTHING of the turn the Batman suit has taken. It must be boring. Nothing new. Not to worry, since you're FULLY ENCASED in him? He can do all sorts of things to literally every inch of you. The entire patrol.

While he kicks ass, you take up yours. He swings between buildings. Tim gets railed to orgasm number 4 of the night. Tim can see everything, feeling like he's basicly in public, all while no one can see or hear him. Batman talking to the commissioner about a case, even as Tim is being fucked right infront of all of Gotham's Finest.

Tim doesn't talk about separating anymore, of course. How could he? Who ELSE could give him this? And Bruce needs him! He's Robin.

Just? Bruce fucking his Host so good Tim basicly agrees to make it a permanent arrangement. Batman and Robin. Forever.

-🐼🐼🐼

bruce being a symbiote makes perfect sense- his literal possessiveness fits so perfectly and tim being the perfect little host!

#asks #answered asks #anonymous #brutim

[jadedrrose]

The Silent Reaver - Ch. One

It’s been thirteen long years since you’ve seen Trafalgar Law. The entire time, you’d wondered if the two of you would ever meet again. But it seems like Doflamingo has plans to force you to, being one of his most trusted assassins.

Reaver (noun), “robber, destroyer, plunderer”, linked to rover; “sea-robber, pirate”.

AO3 Link / Other Chapters

Warnings: enemies to lovers (but not slowburn), reader has a code name like the others, but her real name will just be the usual “y/n”. Talks of assassination and weapons. Outfit concepts, weapons reference

It’s cold. As always.

The room you’ve spent the last ten years living in; the same room you’ve fallen to rest in and woken up in every day ever since you came here and took this place wrongfully.

The chill of the stone room was almost never welcoming, not even on the hottest of days. Though, you’ve always supposed that perhaps your predicament was good here; as it meant you were supplied with nearly anything you wanted, including the finest of blankets to keep you warm. 

But still, you felt cold on the inside. You knew deep down that this was all wrong. You were making the wrong decision, following the wrong people who you hardly considered leaders, and convinced yourself that you shouldn’t think with your heart, as it was wrong too.

Nonetheless, this was your life. You’d come to be grateful for the things you had through it, and decided that this was the best outcome for yourself; one that would keep you living comfortably and have you recognized as a strong officer. You couldn’t exactly ask for more than this, being a pirate, after all.

There was one thing that always seemed to nag at your heart, though. A distant memory, up until recently, at least. But yet again, you had to ignore it. For now.

Rising away from the plush blankets and pillows that kept you warm in the chilly bedroom, you stretched your limbs out and let out a yawn, waking yourself up for the day. As far as you knew, there was nothing special going on, so you could take things easy. A kind of day that you enjoyed most.

After heading into the bathroom and cleaning yourself up from your slumber, you padded over to the wooden wardrobe that held all your clothing, opening it up to pull out your usual outfit. Feels more like a uniform, though…

With your corset belt tightly laced, gloves on and boots up, you made your way out of your bedroom to start your day. The same way that you did every day; having breakfast with your so-called ‘family’.

Passing through the halls of the castle, you thought over any possible tasks that had slipped your mind. You did not need to make a fool of yourself in front of everyone by forgetting one of your basic duties again. 

Help patrol the castle at 3, head around the city to check for any suspicious behavior at 4, and then be on time for dinner at 6. Simple enough, yeah?

Upon entering the dining hall, it appeared that you were one of the last to get up for the day. You took your respective seat and silently started eating the food placed out for you. Always silently as you never felt comfortable with everyone, even if they had given you the life you had now. There was just something about the older leaders of the family that made you uneasy. 

But, at least you could sit with the ones you felt most comfortable around. That being one of your fellow Pica Army officers, Baby 5, as well as Violet, an assassin just like yourself.

The meal was rather silent today, maybe some small talk between the older men, but that was just about it. At one point, you’d asked Baby 5 to pass a napkin to you, and you watched with a mixture of amusement and pity as her eyes lit up, a smile breaking out on her face as she grabbed the entire napkin holder, holding it out for you eagerly. Despite you only asking for one.

That was the most excitement you’d gotten out of the entire thing, and you were honestly glad to be finished up sooner than expected so that you could at least do some things for yourself today. 

You stood up from your seat after cleaning up your plate, and just before you could turn away to leave the hall, your name was called.

“Reaver.”

With a sigh, you turned to face your leader; the false king of this land. 

“Yes, young master?”

You turn to face him, stoically looking around and seeing that all eyes were on you. On the inside, it made your uneasiness worsen. But your poker face was always good, and you found yourself constantly using it to protect yourself; just like now.

Doflamingo has a devious grin on his face, his fingers laced together as he leans on the table from his seat. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for your captain to do, but something told you that it was entirely different and held another meaning today.

“Your presence will be required in the hall of suits in an hour. Don’t be late.”

It was incredibly vague, but just from his tone alone, you knew this would be something troubling. You simply nodded, turning around to quietly make your way out of the dining room.

—

You didn’t know what to do with yourself for the next hour. Even with all the leisure areas completely unlocked for you as an officer, that didn’t even sound appealing right now. So really, you had no choice but to go back to your bedroom.

For a moment you sat on the edge of your bed, mindlessly kicking your feet and trying to think of something to do. You glanced over to where your weapons sat, considering that you could clean them off… except that you’d done that yesterday, out of boredom. You let out a heavy sigh, wondering if you were doomed to live your life like this forever. It was a constant tug-of-war in your soul, one side rationally telling you that this was the right thing to do. Be an important person for your crew, follow through with orders just like you’d been raised to, trained to be a strong fighter when needed. But the other side was screaming at you to reconsider things. Only, if you did, how could you escape? Doflamingo would only send an assassin after you, to most likely kill you or if you got lucky, drag you back here to rot.

The latter seemed to be getting the best of you lately, considering some of the recent events. Your eyes finally landed on your desk, where a newspaper sat laid open on a very specific page. 

It had shocked you, and was what had started this doubt of your life. It had been years since you’d heard anything about him. You knew he’d started his own crew, but this was unexpected and you could only wonder why, in the end. 

You felt like a fool about it, anyways. So it was best to ignore it. And still, your wandering mind always brought you back to thinking of him. Thinking of the bond you’d shared before he took off along with Corasan. How back then, you dreamed of him like a foolish girl, wondering if your paths would ever reconnect. And every time you did start going down that rabbit hole, you’d remind yourself that you were only kids back then. There was nothing serious about it in the slightest. 

But it still bugged you to no end, so how could you ignore it, even if you wanted to?

So your mind went in that direction, reminiscing over those days the two of you spent together all those years ago. Up until he’d left.

When you realized the hour had nearly gone by, you cursed at yourself for allowing yourself to get so lost in those thoughts. Of all things to distract you, especially after you’d been told not to be late. 

Hopping off your bed, you rushed out to make it into the hall on time.

—

When you entered the hall of suits, you were greeted by all three of the elite officers along with your captain. Great… I already felt uneasy about them earlier, and now I’m stuck in here with all of them…

But you couldn’t escape this, not now. Whatever it was they wanted you for, you’d just have to deal with it. Surely, it was nothing too insane, right?

“Reaver… I’ve been thinking,” Doflamingo started, his devilish voice ringing out through the hall, echoes bouncing off the walls.

“There’s a very important mission that someone needs to be sent on, and after a lot of consideration… we think you’d be the best candidate.” 

“Oh? Why is that? I’m obviously the weakest officer so I think you should reconsider-“

“I wouldn’t have given you that fruit if I thought you were weak,” he cut you off, anger evident in his voice. But it smoothly returned to his usual cocky tone. The sudden switch was unnerving, to say the least.

“Sorry… you’re right, as always,” you apologized meekly, folding your hands in front of yourself and trying to make yourself seem smaller, though that was physically impossible. It didn’t really help that the others remained silent, watching you with amusement.

“It seems that we’ve got somebody looking to start trouble with us, our whole crew. Reaver… you need to protect your family, as an assassin.”

You nodded along, wondering where this was going. If it was a simple assassination job, why were you called up here for something so simple, a common task to you? Clearly, there was something more going on, and by the cruel smile on Doflamingo’s face, it could only mean that this was something more personal for you…

“Think back thirteen years ago, Reaver. Surely you can recall him, no?” 

Frowning, you raised an eyebrow with suspicion. “Who exactly is this ‘him’? We’ve known many people throughout the years, young master…”

As his trademark evil laugh rang throughout the hall, you knew what Doflamingo was getting at. But you didn’t want to admit it, you didn’t want to do this. Not to him.

“Quit playing dumb, Reaver. Everybody who was there at the time remembers how close the two of you were. So, who else could it be?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but you felt as though you couldn’t even bear to say his name. It’d only bring back the painful memories.

Growing tired of your silence, Doflamingo decided to answer for you. “Trafalgar Law. The little runt is causing trouble, and if there’s anyone who can get through to him, it’s you.”

“B-but why? He’d never come back,” you questioned. This wasn’t making any sense. 

“Maybe not, but maybe he would if someone he was close to convinced him… which would leave nobody but you to complete the task.”

“Young master, that was thirteen years ago. I doubt he even remembers my name now, this whole idea is pointless,” you begged. You had a feeling that you knew what was coming next, and you were deeply afraid of hearing it.

“Not exactly,” Doflamingo corrected you, “as you know, the heart throne is reserved for him, should your attempt be successful. But nothing ever goes that easily, does it?” 

You nodded, embracing yourself to hear the words you didn’t want to hear.

“Should he reject you… your next task will be to assassinate him. He’s causing enough trouble as it is, so it’s the only other option.”

You let your head hang low, desperately trying to hold tears back. This was the last thing you wanted to do. You’d rather escape this place and die trying than kill the person you’d been the most close to in your whole life; the one you’d been closer to than anyone you knew now. 

“I understand…” you mumbled, forcing yourself to nod. 

“I’m not finished,” Doflamingo interjected. “There’s a reward should you be successful in killing him. Without Law, there’s nobody left to take the heart throne. It would only make sense to give it to you, no?”

Your eyes widened with shock, head snapping up to stare at your captain. “N-no! I don’t want that,” you tried rejecting the offer. “I’m not worthy, young master… please…”

“Reaver! How does it not make sense to you-neh?” Trebol suddenly yelled out. “You’ve got the first Corazon’s devil fruit, and you’ll be the one to claim Law’s life, so it’s only fitting…”

While you didn’t want to admit it, with those things taken into consideration… it did make sense. But still, you didn’t want that.

“But… if Law returns with me?” You asked, hoping for a different answer that wouldn’t lead to his death.

“We’ll force him to take the spot, and then we’ll find a suitable position for you after. Perhaps you’ll even get lucky…” he replied with a light chuckle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You barely breathed the question out, afraid to ask. Maybe you were more afraid of the answer, though.

But Doflamingo only laughed once again, the same smirk on his face that only made you more concerned, truly unknowing of what he was trying to imply. It seemed you were the only one who was clueless, though. The rest of the men joined in on the laughter, apparently finding it incredibly humorous. What did they all know that you didn’t? 

You stood before them, waiting for their unnerving chuckles to stop. When they finally did, Doflamingo spoke one more thing to you;

“You’ll leave for Punk Hazard in two days. Prepare yourself, Reaver. I don’t want to find myself disappointed in someone as talented as you.”

With that, you were dismissed. 

—

After your daily tasks were finished, you returned to your room, dropping your sniper rifle to the ground. Even if you were typically used to wearing it on your back most days, it still left you sore many times. Especially when you had to walk around the island, going from rooftop to rooftop in your assigned patrol town.

Your back hit the door as it clicked shut behind you, and you let out a heavy sigh, raising your head to look at the stone ceiling. 

This had to be some sort of cruel punishment. There was absolutely no way you could kill Law.

While you hesitated at first, your heart got the best of you for once. Pushing yourself off the wooden door, you slowly approached your desk, looking over the newspaper once again. 

The announcement that he’d become a Warlord. It was the catalyst that launched your mind into thinking of him again. You’d always wondered what he was like now, what he looked like. If he resembled that sickly little boy in the slightest. 

But, as your eyes landed on the small photo of his wanted photo printed alongside the news, your breath would be caught in your throat, and your heart would start beating irregularly fast. It was blurry, and just a glimpse of what he looked like today. And still, it didn’t fail to resurrect your feelings for him.

Even if you’d first snatched up the paper months ago, it still brought some sort of shock and excitement to your mind when you saw it laying among other items on your desk. 

But now there was a whole new dilemma; one you weren’t sure how you’d deal with. 

You’d have to meet him again.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #law x female reader #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece x reader

[socialjusticeinamerica]

A Texas man on probation, with a gun, shoots and kills a college student. Placed in a patrol car, while covered with the victims blood, he takes out his pistol, dismantles it, and throws it out the window in pieces.

This is what happens in a Wild West red state where there are virtually no gun laws. These states with their guns, bigotry, poverty, and scorching temps have become unlivable. RepubliKKKans plunder and destroy every state they gain control of. It’s up to you to stop them. RESIST!

[fyeahygocardart]

Amaze Attraction Viking Vortex

#Amaze Attraction Viking Vortex #yugioh #ygo #Amazement #Plunder Patroll #yugioh tcg #ygo tcg #Plunder Patrollship Lys #Amazement Administrator Arlekino

[dash-n-step]

Plunder Patroll mirrors can be so funny actually

#dashingposts #dashingplays #dashingplays: yugioh #dashingplays: master duel #plunder patroll #dashingedits

[tinyorcenthusiast]

Because I keep forgetting to post it during the day and I scroll through tumblr at obscene hours of the night now, I might as well do it now.

Recently I finished painting up my Ork Combat Patrol, and I'm really proud of it! It looks pretty good seeing as how I painted most of them with artist acrylics and craft paints, though now that I've drank the miniature paint (specifically Vallejo) kool-aid, I will never want to go back. But that's enough rambling, so here they are!

Lore under the cut, if you're into that

Da Pink Plundras lead by their fearsome Kaptin Arrvyrsa da Kunnin' are a band of Freebootaz that wander the stars and plunder the worlds of whatever unfortunate systems the tides of the warp decide to spit them out in. Known for their tendency to loot and salvage as much as a self respecting Deffskull, with the cunning brutality and brutal cunning to match the Goffiest Goffs and the most tactical Blood Axe, Arrvyrsa sails his ship into the warp supposedly at "Gork (or Mork's) will", trusting in the Great Green Gods to send him and his crew wherever they can get into the most trouble.

A bit unorthodox, but common for a Freeboota Kaptin, Arrvyrsa happily sells his services and his crew to whatever or whoever can pay his extortionate fees, impress him in a display of cunning wiles or brutal violence, or indulge his hunger for battle. It would not be uncommon to his crew to fight alongside the humans of both Chaos and the Imperium, begrudingly with the T'au, and skeptically with the Aeldari. Though he learned his lesson about turning his back on a Drukhari after an unfortunate incident.

Garrin Skullsmasha, his right hand Nob and his most trusted scallywag, leads his Butchaz with such cunning and ferocity that whenever Arrvyrsa needs a job done quickly, quietly, and brutally, Garrin is the one he sends on his way. Though he offered him his own suit of mega armor, the Nob refused, preferring to stick with his Boyz over getting a fancy suit of armor. Dragmaw was the ship navigator, weirdboy worth his salt and then some. Which was important, as he always started hollering and screaming about some "Gravewalker" and an "Aeldari with a bad temper" while blowing the brains out of whatever poor Boyz were stuck taking care of him.

Ol' Pinkie was a tough Nob, as loyal as a Squig and as dumb as one too, charging into battle with such ferocity and anger that Gork must have surely smiled upon him. When Bogguts, the big mek, told him he could be even stompier and killy-er, he leaped at the opportunity. Literally, he dove feet first into the Deffdread. Now he's known as Ol' Pinkie, mostly because it's the only name he'll respond to ever since all the circuitry fried his brain. Now he tesrs through the enemy with such ferocity that one could mistakenly assume that there's a rabid squig piloting it.

The orks of Da Squigeon Squad were seen as odd, even by the misfit standards of the Plundras. They were recruited from a Blood Axes warband and were highly regimented and disciplined; the only requirements that Arrvyrsa had for his airforce. Flying in their rickety scrap Deffkoptas, the three members of Squigeon Squad act as fast hitting nuisances in the backline, firing off barrages of rockets with psychotic glee.

Now they wander the stars, routinely crashing their ship and spending months or even years to plunders and loot until they rebuild their ship and take off once more into the great unknown. Arrvyrsa has been making some comments about how great it'd be to get into a fight with "da stunty boyz" in the Leagues of Votann.

#warhammer orks #orks #space orks #space orcs #warhammer40k #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer #40k #ork #orkz #miniature painting #painting miniatures #mini painting #tabletop miniatures #miniatures #warhammer oc

[bitchesgate3]

Pretty much everything in the game having to do with mindflayers, the Elder Brain, the Grand Design, the drama of it all, the betrayals, and the players being revealed and exiting stage - all of it is actually pretty incredible in bg3.

It's probably the biggest thing that keeps me going in Act 3, because each piece of information you learn helps you reframe prior experiences to reveal even MORE information.

And if you try too hard to make all the hidden pieces make sense, you really do start to replicate the stereotype of a "crazy person".

Which I believe frames characters like Orin and particularly her "hysterical" behavior as more credible than you might have initially taken them for.

My one and ONLY criticism to an otherwise stellar story is the fact that everything we learn about mindflayers should have also been punctuated by the existence, behavior, and culture of their former-slaves-turned-hunters: the Githyanki.

(images source)

When all the games of the mindfuckers were all said and done, after all the frilly subterfuge: they still would butcher you like a common animal as their final assault before asserting their new world order. They would send in their warrior-slaves to finish the job.

But then the gith developed psionics of their own to resist the control of their mindflayer overlords. Through the rage of their warrior-savior Gith, some followed her stead and swore to hunt down every last mindflayer and wipe them from existence. And loot all the material realm as their garden and prize for being their own masters.

While Githzerai disagreed, Githyanki took a violent and aggressive approach to dealing with the mindfuckery of the mindflayers.

We start the game with Lae'zel, we then encounter the Gith Patrol, and then we later on visit the creche. Every one of these encounters and Lae'zel's seemingly stubborn nature should have echoed how to resist the mindflayers' worming themselves into your mind.

We get this advice late in the game, but what if you never let a mindflayer in to begin with? What if you were so resistant to EVERYONE that you could skip all these tips? The Githyanki approach? We can infer as followed:

View everyone as hostile outright so as to not get charmed by false politeness and friendliness. Test their pleasantries by being as bold and unpleasant as you please.

Be assured of yourself as your one and only judge so as not to be too impressionable by a creature constantly shifting the narrative to suit themselves.

Be plunderous yourself, judge all interactions as transactional, so that an ally helping you with your goals is just an ally with no emotional connection. There is no trust to those not vetted kin.

Purge the weak of mind and body, and disregard all the same who might prove a liability especially towards the wiles of temptation.

Showing more of Githyanki culture and mannerisms in relation to how mindflayers operate would have been a way to push players to better question and indulge in that aspect of the plot.

There may be a defensive purpose to being "attack first, ask questions later". Maybe the person's "hysterical" raving and urging you not to trust someone has a reason for saying as much.

When there is a group of entities pulling the strings in the unseen and the unsaid, and you may not ever know how or why - never fully understanding the whole scheme - it pays to know how others resisted it before.

#bg3 spoilers #bg3 act 3 spoilers #Lae'zel #githyanki #mindflayers #dnd #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #text #bg3 early access

[yugiohcardsdaily]

Blackeyes, the Plunder Patroll Seaguide

“You can target 1 ‘Plunder Patroll’ monster in your GY, except ‘Blackeyes, the Plunder Patroll Seaguide’; Special Summon this card from your hand, and if you do, add that monster to your hand, also you cannot Special Summon for the rest of this turn, except ‘Plunder Patroll’ monsters. If this card is sent from the hand or Monster Zone to the GY: You can target 1 ‘Plunder Patroll’ Monster Card in your Spell & Trap Zone; Special Summon it in Defense Position. You can only use each effect of ‘Blackeyes, the Plunder Patroll Seaguide’ once per turn.”

#blackeyes the plunder patroll seaguide #yugioh #yu-gi-oh #yu-gi-oh cards #duel monsters

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

This is not the National Guard. It has no affiliation with the Department of Defense or the United States government. It answers solely to the governor of Florida and may be used at his discretion.

Texas also has a State Guard which it uses to shadow the US Military (to appease conspiracy theorists; see Operation Jade Helm). Texas also uses their relatively large guard to patrol the southern border. Greg Abbott like all Texas Republikkkan governors before him use it as a veiled threat when they bring secession from the US to the ballot every year or so. Threats of secession are one of the two reasons Texas is the only state not connected to the U.S. power grid. The other reason being big energy tycoons being able to plunder Texas residents with outrageous prices and no worries of costly repair and upkeep.

This is some dangerous fascist bullish-t!

[blackjackkent]

Resuming Rakha's adventures! Had a dramatic showdown with the githyanki patrol last time and Lae'zel's pretty upset about it - and at Voss and Rakha, for different reasons.

Once again, the timing on this works out to kind of be unintentionally perfect, because Lae'zel is evidently so upset by the mixture of Voss's apparent treachery and Rakha not reciprocating her feelings that she decides, come camp time, that it's time to take it out on Shadowheart:

"You carry a githyanki relic. I will have an explanation - or your head!"

"Walk away - now."

Rakha isn't entirely sure which of them began the argument, but it has escalated rapidly. The two of them are standing in the middle of camp snapping at the top of their lungs, and the brittle tension in the air feels ready to snap. Lae'zel has one hand on the dagger at her side and Shadowheart's hands are balled into fists; for a moment Rakha thinks a fight is going to break out right there.

How glorious... the beast whispers in her head. What a beautiful spread of death they would make, hands on each others' throats--

Rakha clenches her hands tightly within her folded arms, digging her fingernails into her palms in an attempt to drown out the thoughts. Not them. Not here.

Watch the argument unfold.

"You have something precious to my kin," Lae'zel snarls. "An heirloom. I will have it back."

"Heirloom?" Shadowheart laughs disdainfully. "Plunder from some conquered realm more like. This artifact is the only thing keeping us from becoming slaves to our parasites. Be glad I have it."

I should have expected this, Rakha thinks darkly. They learned from Voss that the artifact is githyanki in origin; why wouldn't Lae'zel demand its return? And, in fact, why should she not have it back, as long as it's still in camp and maintains its protection? They won't even need it at all, once the matter with the zaith'isk is settled and the worms are removed.

Shadowheart, of course, has been secretive regarding her own need for the artifact, and why she has it in the first place. But clearly she is not willing to relinquish ownership of it.

(A/N: Once again - why, then, does Lae'zel get pissy if you try to give it to Voss? :P Makes no sense.)

Lae'zel's lips draw back over her teeth in a menacing sneer. "I do not wish to spill blood here," she growls. "Come daylight, we will find a place to end this."

Shadowheart laughs sharply. "Fine. You can accept you're wrong, or we'll be rid of you permanently. Either way, I win."

Lae'zel doesn't dignify this with a response, but turns and walks away. Shadowheart watches her go, glaring, then shoots a look at Rakha, as if daring her to comment.

Rakha's eyes are fixed somewhere in the middle distance; the beast is pondering eagerly on the image of Lae'zel and Shadowheart coming to blows in the morning. Spilling blood. Killing. Death. Death. Death...

"Why didn't you say something?" Wyll asks her. She jumps, startled from her thoughts. How long has she been standing there lost in these thoughts?

Wyll's expression is drawn tight with concern. "We can't just let them kill each other," he insists.

Rakha shakes herself, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would shut out the images coming from her mind. "No," she agrees hoarsely. "Come morning... we'll be there. We'll stop them."

Wyll nods, visibly relieved. "Right. Good."

-----

Rakha retreats to her bedroll, curled up as she always is in a hunched position on her side. The blood-pulse thumps in her head, the dark dreams resuming their usual progress, and she doesn't register the sharp schick of a knife pulled from its sheathe. The sound melds with the dreams, matching the blade in a thousand different memories of a thousand different deaths--

She snaps awake at the sound of a sudden scuffle, and then an angry cry from Lae'zel.

Shit.

Shadowheart has Lae'zel pinned into her bedroll, the dagger's blade pressed to her throat. Lae'zel is squirming, flushed with rage, unable to dislodge the weight expertly holding her immobilized.

Rakha finds herself struck by the sudden thought that Lae'zel had no problem pinning her down when the need arose, during their night together. Shadowheart, it seems, is no slouch at physical combat despite her usual position in the backline.

"You had every chance to look the other way," Shadowheart whispers harshly. "But here we are. You chose this."

"Spare me the justifications, coward," Lae'zel rasps.

Shadowheart smiles bitterly. "If anyone asks, I'll say you were transforming. Don't expect to be mourned."

YES. The beast growls hungrily. Swing the blade, cut her throat, let her bleed, soak the bedroll with gore...

No. Lae'zel can't die. Rakha scrambles to her feet.

She struggles, still only halfway to wakefulness, to understand what is happening, how this can be stopped. Lae'zel is angry. She saw Voss's treachery. She believes Rakha mocked her. She seeks a target for her anger and found Shadowheart. Shadowheart is afraid - of Lae'zel, perhaps, or perhaps of losing the artifact, failing the mission she was sent on for the Sharrans.

Attack with purpose. And yet neither of them - not even Lae'zel, whose judgement Rakha has trusted above almost anything - has any purpose here. This is a clash of emotion, anger and fear. The only thing that truly matters is the artifact itself. The protection it offers. The avenue it has given them to safety, and then to vengeance.

This should not even be happening. I am not better than this. Not yet. But you are.

[HALF-ORC][INTIMIDATION] "Your petty quarrels disturbed my rest," she mutters, the words rumbling, sleep-thickened, at the back of her throat. "Stop at once. Or I will *make* you stop."

Shadowheart and Lae'zel both visibly hesitate. Neither of them doubts Rakha is capable of making good on that threat in deadly fashion.

"She's a liability," Shadowheart mutters. "It's the artifact we need, not her."

"Let me up," Lae'zel spits, struggling against Shadowheart's weight. "And I'll show you."

Rakha scowls with a flash of sudden deeper irritation. More foolishness. They need both the artifact and Lae'zel if they are to reach the creche and deal with the worms. This has been the plan from the beginning and hasn't changed. "We need her, Shadowheart. Give her a chance," she snaps.

Shadowheart's lips tighten, and for a moment Rakha thinks the blade is going to fly anyway, and she tenses in anticipation of the wave of blood to follow-- but then Shadowheart shifts, draws back. "Can I do that, Lae'zel?" she asks. "Can I turn my back on you?"

Lae'zel glares up at her furiously. "Never. Thieves aren't afforded such luxury."

Rakha watches with clinical interest, again expecting the blow to strike in spite of her arguments. But Shadowheart surprises her. She lifts the knife, pulls back. "Loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won't you? We needn't be enemies! There's plenty of those to go around already."

Rakha realizes something surprising in this moment. Shadowheart does not want to kill Lae'zel. Perhaps she didn't right from the beginning. This was posturing-- or perhaps something deeper.

Like Rakha, like Astarion, like Gale - like, in fact, a greater proportion of their little group than is obvious at first glance - Shadowheart is driven by a darkness that is outside of her. Shar's darkness, the force that ties her to the artifact. It was for that, not her own desire, that she held the blade to Lae'zel's throat.

But she did not cut, in the end.

This subtlety is somewhat lost on Lae'zel, who scrambles to her feet ready to lash out. "Tsk," she sneers. "What would you have, that we be friends?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Shadowheart says warily. "But imagine what we might achieve if we channeled some of that hostility back at our real foes instead of each other. They wouldn't stand a chance."

Lae'zel turns away without answering, but Rakha stands there for a long moment afterwards, chewing over these words. Yes. This is why they stand together - this is why she has held back the beast and not killed these who have become her companions. They are stronger together.

At least when they aren't tearing themselves apart.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #this took a while to write XD #i'll be honest i really don't like this scene #the writing is weird and inconsistent #but i got something out of it in the end i think XD