#sniper Lance

[icypantherwrites]

Fic Update: Here, Chapter Seven

“I,” Lance’s voice, quiet  as it was, sounded like a gunshot and Shiro was not the only one who startled as this was the first time Lance had spoken to them, as he looked up at Coran. “I killed you.”

“You tried to,” Coran gently corrected, not giving any indication he was thrown by both Lance’s sudden bout of speech nor his dark words. “But, and correct me if I am wrong, I do not think you wanted to do so.”

Lance’s jaw clenched and he looked down.

“I,” his throat bobbed, “I don’t know.”

“What does your heart tell you?” Coran asked softly.

Lance tensed but didn’t answer.

He was trembling again, Shiro noticed. 

Next to him Hunk made a soft sound and carefully laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder…

And Lance relaxed ever so at the touch.

It gave Shiro hope.

Read it here

(not yet posted on AO3)

Summary: [Third and final part to the Sniper trilogy] Voltron has rescued Lance but the person with them now is not the same boy they once knew. Even outside the Galrans’ influence Lance believes himself to be Sniper, an assassin to the Galra Empire with his final mission to eliminate Voltron. It’s going to be a long, difficult journey that they know won’t end even when Lance does remember them as then he’ll also remember all of the horrors he committed as Sniper and have to come to terms with what he did. But they do know they’ll be there for him every step of the way because Lance was gone, he’s been found and now he’s here, with his space family, to stay.

[cyantt-does-stuff]

I spent maybe a good 15 minutes moving the layers around I almost went insane.

[torveiglyart]

Part Two! Low-key hate how both Lances turned out but whateves.

Focus Drown: Lance can enforce a feeling of being underwater on himself and/or others. When used on himself it improves his focus, agility, dexterity, strength, aim, and his senses, except for hearing which is tremendously reduced. If he uses it on others, it replicates the feeling of losing consciousness while floating underwater (that is a terribly distorting feeling and I hope no one can relate to that). The drawbacks of using his quirk too much are excessive sweating, poor circulation (cold), and symptoms of depression (numbness, lethargy, derealization-dissociation).

Likes: the beach, garlic knots, and surfing

Dislikes: doing laundry, math, and Keith

Lance is one of the few lucky students in attendance of UALA (Yuuei Los Angeles) that was selected for a study abroad at UA Japan. While excited to travel and be selected for this once in a lifetime opportunity, he also worries about being so far away from his family. He’ll also need to practice his Japanese for the year-long study.

While Lance’s quirk by itself with his hand-to-hand combat skills would work just fine for hero business, there are always going to be scenarios where more is needed. After a long chat with his home room teacher, Adam West, they agreed that a lethal weapon (or two) would be licensed to him. After testing out a couple tools, Lance chose a long-range rifle and a retractable (concealable) sword. While Lance is still working on his swordsmanship, he took to the rifle like a fish to water. Adam will never tell him this, but he nominated Lance for the abroad program after hearing about another pro hero named Snipe over there who exclusively uses guns.

[harukamitsuki]

Here's some non-controversial Voltron takes:

Admiral Sanda is a bitch

Hunk is an angel in disguise

Shunk is a great ship that needed more screentime

Season Eight was an awful mess

Shiro should have been the one to kill Sendak

Playing the Voltron formation sequence every single time was unnecessary and just wasted time

The elemental ascept was underutilised and I wish bonding with the Lions gave the paladins the element of the Lion

Allura should not have died

[electricsynthesis]

the problem with the latter quarter of voltrons weird tonal shift from "kids cartoon" to "none of the people writing this want to be writing a kids cartoon and are dressing their kids cartoon up in the clothes of a gritty sci-fi space opera" is that i start getting annoyed that the teenagers arent killing people. im like Alright were fighting pirate warlords who want to sell you, keith, baby, grabs him by the shoulders. Im gonna need you to shove that stupid bayard of yours through somebodys stomach. none of these people wear stomach armor it drives me crazy cause its all like oooh skin tight sci fi bodysuits WHATEVER i need to see the red bayard in between somebodys RIBS

[discordiansamba]

Flicker AU + Assassin AU where Keith uses his yellow eye for the scope of his long range rifle because it works better in dark conditions

The fun part of assassin AU is that Keith doesn't need a funky yellow eye to have exceptional eyesight. :)

[unlessitsafarm]

[ ........i wanna give lance a tf2 verse ]

[scattered-winter]

I think what I love about Flirty Robots is the more playful dynamic between Pidge and Lance. They genuinely banter and while they can bicker it never feels hostile.

Keith and Lance’s relationship often felt a lot more actively antagonistic than any of the other inter-Paladin relationships.

Lance’s wannabe Casanova persona has tons of potential with sassy science gremlin Pidge.

There’s also the fact that Lance seems willing to follow Pidge on whatever crazy adventure she wants to go on. Like in episode 1, when they see Shiro’s escape crash land, Pidge immediately run after it and Lance is right behind her.

Or when they’re at the space mall wher Pidge and Lance work together to get that retro gaming console.

Both are also very family oriented.

Then there’s the potential for angst between homesick Lance and the ever searching Pidge. Both desperately miss their families and want nothing more than to be reunited with them, but one is pulled towards Earth and the other is pulled away.

And this heading a bit into headcanon territory, but I feel like both use their respective outward personas to the mask their inner pain.

Lance is always flirting and acting like a goofball to cheer both himself and others up and to keep him distracted from thoughts of home, while Pidge throws herself into her work to not let the possibility of both Matt and her dad being dead sink in.

This is a not a comprehensive list of many reasons I ship Flirty Robots, but I hope you can start to see why I like it.

OHOOO SOO TRUE ACTUALLY. the way that they're opposites but also so so so similar........I can See It

[waywardsalt]

tbh im almost tempted to just make a post listing every base game fe engage unit with a brief overview of how i feel abt them as units

[finifugue]

watching the front positions of f1: Same 5 guys trading off finishing positions with each other every week

watching the midfield/backrunners of f1: Pierre Gasly and Esteban Ocon are roleplaying Javert and Hugh Jackman in a Les Miserables fight to mutually assured destruction over a no-points position. Lewis Hamilton is going to physically fight his own car to the death. Yuki Tsunoda and Daniel Ricciardo are going to physically fight each other to the death, but Daniel has a disadvantage because Lance Stroll has a sniper rifle aimed at his head. The Saubers are rewriting the federalist papers in the pits. Kevin Magnussen has planted a bomb on the track, and the blast has inevitably caught a Williams.

[icypantherwrites]

Fic Update: Found, Chapter Eight

Found Summary:

Lance is alive. He’s been alive this whole time as not just a prisoner of the Galra Empire… but as their assassin. Shiro’s head aches with his own press of memories as to what Lance must have suffered, how he’d been tortured, to become a cold-blooded killer that goes against every value Lance held dear. But while there’s nothing they can do to change the past they have a way to change the future and now it’s time to find Lance and bring him home.

—

Sniper is confused. He shouldn’t know those people, he doesn’t know those people and yet… yet there’s a whisper of familiarity that makes his chest ache and his hand pause on the trigger. But Mistress’ whispers are even louder and his screams as she forces him to forget them and replace them with only the faces and feelings of enemies are the loudest of them all.

Found, Chapter Eight Snippet:

Sniper had his target in sight.

Pink was in front on the stage and while she’d be the easiest one to hit, he wanted to take out Champion first.

His partner who had betrayed him.

Who had betrayed the Empire.

He needed to die.

Easy, Sniper Mistress crooned in his mind, do not let hate cloud your reason.

Sniper let out a slow breath and nodded.

He knew that.

And he had Mistress here to remind him as she and Sir had come with him on his mission — Sir had done so before but Mistress had never accompanied him and Sniper felt both comforted and nervous by her presence just a few feet away from him — while Sir was on the ground hidden in the crowd.

They would not interfere, Sir had said, as this was Sniper’s mission, but they would step in if the Paladins proved more difficult than anticipated, and given there were six of them including the sorcerer that could be the case.

But Sniper planned to shoot them all from here. Sniping was what he preferred, his true specialty, and, selfishly, it allowed him to avoid all of the blood.

He still didn’t like the blood.

Sir had warned it was highly likely his targets had shielding of some sort even if it wasn’t visible, but Sniper knew all shielding could be broken with enough direct hits.

And, his lips pulled up into the barest smirk, he was more than capable of making multiple direct hits.

His finger lighted on the trigger, lining up his sniper rifle to Champion’s head, aiming dead center at the man’s forehead where a thin black circlet that he would bet activated the shield was placed.

It was time to take the shot.

Read chapter 8 here

(posted up to chapter 6 on AO3)

[vexwerewolf]

Not the original asker, but how would you make NPC equivalents of PC mechs? Some stuff feels fairly intuitive, but there are some others that I'm less sure of/not sure how to do.

IPS-N

IPS-N mechs are probably the easiest, since there are many mechs that are close to being 1-to-1 NPC approximations of IPS-N mechs.

Blackbeard - One of the easiest, since the Berserker NPC is basically just a Blackbeard. It has the Chain Axe, it has the reckless speed and it has the inability to properly determine between friend and foe. It doesn't have the Blackbeard's enhanced Grapple shenanigans but those aren't really appropriate on an NPC mech anyway.

Caliban - Give an Assassin the Devil's Cough Shotgun and Explosive Knives.

Drake - Take the Bastion, increase its HP just a little, remove the Rotary Grenade Launcher and give it the Scourer's Thermal Lance, except make the Thermal Lance do Kinetic damage instead of Energy.

Lancaster - Another easy one. The Support NPC is just a slightly slower Lancaster. It has a Latch Drone, it has Restock Drones, it has Whitewash, it's got all the fun stuff.

Nelson - Yet another easy one. The Cataphract does pretty much exactly what the Nelson does, just with added trample.

Raleigh - This is much more difficult - so much so that for In Golden Flame, I created an entirely new NPC class, the Slinger, just to simulate it. If you don't have IGF, start with an Assault. Remove the Assault Rifle, Combat Knife and Hunker Down. Take the Drum Shotgun from the Goliath and call it a Hand Cannon. Give it the Archer's Impending Threat optional.

Tortuga - This one's fairly simple. Take a Sentinel, upscale it to Size 2, give it Punisher Ammunition and the Bombard's Siege Armor.

Vlad - Take a Berserker, give it the Nail Gun optional, and then give it the Bastion's Near-Threat Denial System.

Zheng - Take a Berserker, give it Juggernaut and Retribution, remove Aggression, remove the Chain Axe and replace it with the Demolisher's Demolition Hammer.

SSC

SSC mechs also have a lot of parallels, so it's pretty easy to model them.

Black Witch - Probably the hardest mech to model with existing NPCs. I created another whole new class, the Lodestone, just to simulate these guys.

Death's Head - Take a Sniper, cut the damage on its Anti-Material Rifle to 6/8/10, strip the Loading trait and permanently give it the effect of Deadmetal Rounds (shots become Line 20 instead of Range 25).

Dusk Wing - Literally just a Hornet.

Metalmark - Take an Assault and give it the Operator's Fade Generator.

Monarch - Depending on the exact flavour of Monarch you want, you can do two things. Either take a Rainmaker, scale it up to Size 2 and give it Atlas Missiles the Ace's Missile Swarm, or take an Ace, scale it up to Size 2 and give it Missile Swarm.

Mourning Cloak - Literally just a Specter.

Swallowtail - Literally just a Scout.

HORUS

HORUS mechs are where we need to get a little bit more inventive. This shit ain't natural boys.

Balor - Take a Hive, give it Electro-Nanite Cloud and the Berserker's Harpoon Cannon, then give it the Exotic template and choose Regenerator. Or, if you have No Room For A Wallflower, just use the Lurker NPC.

Goblin - It's a Witch.

Gorgon - Take a Sentinel, scale it up to Size 2 and give it the Archer's Impending Threat and Suppress reactions.

Hydra - There's not really an NPC that simulates a mech deploying 800 drones and honestly that's probably for the best.

Manticore - Give a Berserker the Superhot optional, the Cataphract's Capacitor Discharge, the Sentinel's Combat Shotgun and the Operator's Self-Erasure.

Pegasus - Do not attempt to simulate me, ha ha.

Harrison Armory

Home stretch here.

Barbarossa - Take a Goliath, give it the Ultra's Short-Cycle Lance or the Bombard's Bombard Cannon.

Genghis - Literally just a Pyro.

Iskander - This is just a Seeder.

Napoleon - Why does this mech exist

Saladin - Scale up an Aegis to Size 2.

Sherman - Take a Scourer and give it Emergency Vent.

Tokugawa - Take a Berserker and give it Superhot. Make its Chain Axe do Energy instead of Kinetic, and instead of Shredding on crit, make it do a couple of Burn damage.

[analog-kidd]

If Fire Emblem Had Tumblr Part 2

(part 1)

🪙annablr-staff ☑️

Introducing New Features!

Keep reading

🔪v-a-n-t-a-g-e Follow

WTF ARE THESE NEW FEATURES????

ARE YOU TRYING TO SCAM US????

😈fallenwyvern Follow

this is annablr ofc theyre gonna try and scam us

#smh new users bitching abt annablr are so annoying #yeah no shit its a scam

(946,199 notes)

💜mlm-sewer-assassin Follow

Gods why are the men from Tellius so hot!?!

Like look

ugggggggggghhhhhhhlsslcdk;nakc king cainegusdisisudapdaso sooo hottttt 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

🦁the-real-king-of-beasts☑️ Follow

I'll take that as a complement haha

💜mlm-sewer-assassin Follow

(110,119 notes)

🐴cantocantocantocanter Follow

*Edit* I know on other continents archers can promote to other things but I was thinking about Ylisse, Elyos, and Magvel when making this poll

💘no-i-wont-shut-up Follow

in valentia and fodlan snipers promote into bow knights 😎

🏰armored-general Follow

CAN MOUNTED UNITS SHUT UP ABOUT BEING "THE BEST CLASS"!!!!

NO YOUR NOT!!!!

🪶lighterthanafeather Follow

Youre just jealous that we have a bigger movement range

🏰armored-general Follow

NO IM NOT!

and whats that mov gonna do when you get one rounded by a lvl 6 fighter cause your winged donkey falls apart by a light breeze

🪶lighterthanafeather Follow

Sorry! Can't hear you with that 4 mov!

#armors stop being slow challenge (impossible)

(1,109 notes)

🔫tastemyfeglock Follow

Ugh,, can breidablik STOp summoning fredrick???

I already summoned like 7 of him today!!!

🪨pickagodandprey Follow

what??????? who's breidablik??? why am I being summoned??? I am right here next to my lord in his castle, I'm confused???????

🔫tastemyfeglock Follow

GO AWAY!!! YOURE USELESS!!!!!!!!!!!!

🪨pickagodandprey Follow

Excuse me?? I don't even know you!

🪚sidecharater121 Follow

Hey look! A Fredrick that hasn't been summoned yet

(553 notes)

⚜️youngknightnight Follow

Sorry guys for being inactive for so long,,

I was having family issues,,

basically I'm a sword knight about to promote and I wanna be able to use bow upon promotion but my fucking parents keep insisting on axes but I don't wanna use axes!

They keep saying that "axes are sooooo much better than bows" "we encounter so many lance users, why don't you want that advantage?" or "bows only works at two range, why do you want to be defenseless at one range?" bro stfu let me live! I just wanna use bows OKAY?!

Sorry everyone its just been a lot.

#elitists dni #or I will cut you

(39 notes)

🌠thracianstar Follow

found this weird looking lance an enemy dropped while on my trip in Fodlan.

Gonna try an use it in the next battle!

🎏h-o-l-l-o-w-v-e-s-s-a-l Follow

uhhhh op? I don't recommend using that lance unless you have a crest but your post implies you're not from Fodlan soo uh

don't fucking use it if you wanna live

🐟fishphish Follow

op? op are you there? OP??

🦴️armorcrusher Follow

OP?!?!? OP!!!!!!!!!????? ANSWER US OP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(437 notes)

🥩singingnmeat Follow

this is the best thing in the world on divine dragon

❤️️crimsonrider Follow

#this is something my wyvern would say if he could talk #anyways #back to hating on my brother

(391 notes)

💚blueplusyellowunit Follow

I found this blueish-white wyvern near Crimea but it wouldn't let me ride it!

It started to thrash around, I had to stop when it started breathing fire

ik you just can't tame a wild wyvern without a lot of time, but the wyvern looked so pretty😭😭😭😭

💭dragon-ggilf Follow

WAIT WAS THAT YOU WHO TRIED TO RIDE ME?!?!?

YOU ALMOST RIPPED OUT ONE OF MY HORNS WHILE TRYING MOUNT ME!!!!

ASSHOLE!!!!

💚blueplusyellowunit Follow

OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOURE NOT A WYVERN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry

(2,330 notes)

😉sranks Follow

I tried to use his lance but my rank was D

😉sranks Follow

easy website

(24,998 notes)

🏋️‍♂️chop-official Follow

gonna use the devil axe,

wish me luck!

🏋️‍♂️chop-official Follow

I'm liking my odds!!

🏋️‍♂️chop-official Follow

cleic

(492 notes)

👺foxythings Follow

Swords are the worst weapon type in my kitsune opinion

🗡theawesomemerc Follow

kys

#you dont even use weapons wtf #how tf should you know

(97 notes)

[python333]

what's a noise to an eardrum? — python³

― ― ― ―

synopsis you've been on a mission for a while, and instead of going back to your quarters after coming back, you head to ghost's.

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters simon "ghost" riley.

word count 2.2k

warnings ghost's pov, 2nd person pov [you/your/yourself], sleep deprivation, bad cliches, bad writing, might be ooc

note hey gang!!! i think i got all the warnings since this is pretty lighthearted considering what i usually post, so enjoy :) lmk your thoughts!

Ghost was sitting at his desk―in his own sleeping quarters, since it’s technically past curfew and he doesn’t need any trouble from recruits about him being in his office after hours, the annoying little shits―typing away at his computer, trying to get a report on his latest assignment done before going to bed.

He’s had a little bit of trouble sleeping lately. Not to say that it’s your fault, but it’s definitely your fault. He doesn’t necessarily need you around to go to sleep, but since you volunteered for a mission a week ago, he’s been a little on edge. Originally, it would’ve been Soap and a few other sergeants heading out to a small town in some country down in Central America, but you took the place of Soap after Price had explained the mission. 

It could technically be done by one person, he’d said in short, but it’s quicker to send out a squadron than a single soldier.

You weren’t the best sniper they had, but you had enough experience with it for Price to approve of you going with one other person to keep watch of you. The long duration of the mission was really to be blamed on how often your target had been moving, leaving you with little room to take any shots. It wasn’t too important of a mission, however―as long as you didn’t miss your target in the end―so Ghost is sure Price is glad that he only had to send out one soldier instead of around six or seven.

Still, despite how there was little to no chance of you coming out of this mission in multiple pieces, Ghost found himself worried; something he, admittedly, feels for a lot of the soldiers here. His worry for you is different, though. Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe it has something to do with how he’s seen you grow over the years that you’ve been here, and how close you’ve gotten to going from a Private to a Lance Corporal. It’s a relatively low rank for someone in the 141, which only makes him―dare he admit it―prouder. A weird feeling lingers in his mind when the word proud comes to mind as he thinks of you, but he ignores that feeling, instead opting to focus on the report he so desperately wanted to finish.

Despite his usual sleep aversion, he finds himself wanting to sleep for once.

Just as he gets to the middle of his report, he hears a knock at the door. Before Ghost can even say anything, he hears the door open, and his head whips around to see who would decide that it’s a good idea to enter his room without his permission. Though, all of his confusion and building anger dissipates the moment he sees that it’s you. Fresh from medical, he can safely assume, seeing the various bandages and bruises on you, and that odd too-clean smell that’s sticking to you. You look so exhausted, it’s almost funny. Almost. 

You close the door behind you and Ghost turns his head back to his laptop. It’s not that he doesn’t want to look at you, but it’s a little harder to when you look so disheveled. He hears a few footsteps, then the squeaking of bed springs, and a sigh before the rustling of bed sheets. In the faint reflection of his computer screen, Ghost can just barely see you getting comfortable under the covers of his bed, seeming to fully disregard his presence. He doesn’t mind, though. He gets it; that feeling after being on guard for so long, not sure how much of it you can let down even though you’re back on base, and that strange structureless feeling where you wish you had bones but only feel like flesh. 

It’s odd, put simply. When Ghost thinks of the feeling, he thinks of the age-old question, if a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound? The feeling is like a constant questioning of what you’re experiencing, the wonderance of whether or not you can feel safe if the safest you’ve ever felt is a feeling lost somewhere beyond you. If you lose a feeling, was it ever felt? If you lost safety, were you ever safe, or, as Maslow would put it, were you always missing that basic need? Ghost knows plenty about missing safety. He knows that his mind blanks when he tries to think about the last time he felt safe before the 141. 

He knows that you know plenty about missing safety, too. Not a lot, because you never say enough to clue him in on just how much you’re missing, but he has his suspicions. Some are confirmed, others mere theories, but still―he knows you well enough. That’s why you’re in his room, not saying a word, just breathing heavily into his pillow and trying to garner warmth from his blanket. He can see you staring at him from the bed. He’s sure you want him to say something, and because it’s you that’s looking at him, he does.

“Back already?” Ghost asks dryly, drawing a small huff out of you. 

“Soap said y’missed me,” you reply, making Ghost scoff, “when he visited me in the infirmary.” 

“Too big of a mouth on ‘im,” Ghost saves the draft of his report, deciding to just save writing it for another time, instead closing out of the program and hovering his finger over the power button on his keyboard, “don’t know how y’managed to understand him.” 

You hum and sit up in Ghost’s bed, the blankets rustling again, and as Ghost’s screen goes black, he turns around to see you sitting up with the blankets wrapped around you like a jacket. He blinks at you, before raising an eyebrow at your position.

“Ruinin’ my blankets?” he asks, though sounding barely offended, “After walking in unannounced besides that little knock?”

“Ruin’s a pretty strong word,” you argue, “and it wasn’t a little knock. It was loud. Practically echoed off the walls.”

Ghost can sense your sarcasm from a mile away, but continues to play along, leaning back in his chair. You look a little more tired covered in blankets, he thinks, those dark circles under your eyes are a little more pronounced. He sees them a lot. Those darkened semi-circles that he used to think were just a part of you, some kind of skin condition, but later realized they were a product of your sleep deprivation. It would’ve been his first thought had he not always seen you with the bags under your eyes, but after going on leave with you―a few months ago, back to his small house, after you had admitted that you preferred staying with him to going back to your dingy apartment―and witnessing you getting proper rest, seeing those circles get a little lighter, he knew that it was more of a sleep issue. 

He’s gone through his fair share of sleeping problems. He still goes through them; everyone in the military does, he’s sure. Ghost used to think that he took the brunt of it, compared to the rest of the task force, not because of the missions but because of what came before the missions. He’s changed his way of thinking since then, has opened up his mind a little more beyond the idea of suffering more than someone else in a specific sense, but he still had that feeling that he took on the majority of nightmares. The word “nightmare” feels a little juvenile for him, but until someone creates a better word for the repulsive things he sees after closing his eyes and just barely drifting asleep, that’s what he’s stuck with. 

“You better hope y’didn’t wake anyone up with it, then,” Ghost hums, “I doubt anyone wants to be awake right now.” 

He sees a small smile grow on your face and small spots of blood arise from beneath the cracked skin of your lips. 

“Everyone here sleeps like a rock as far as I know,” you reply, before pausing, considering, “maybe except for the guys who came in a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sure they’ll be gone by next month,” Ghost tells you, his tone almost reassuring, “I don’t think they can handle any of… this.” 

“You don’t think they can handle your bullying?” you scoff, making Ghost huff out a small laugh, “Weak.” 

“Not everyone’s as strong as you, unfortunately,” Ghost hums sarcastically, getting up from his chair and walking the short distance over to his bed where you’re sitting. Automatically, you move so that Ghost can sit down next to you.

You’re both silent for a little bit. Ghost can see the few healing bruises on your face a little clearer here. Small dark yellows and reds on the sharper points of your face, the parts where the bone is a little closer to the skin, particularly your cheeks and a few over your jawline and near your chin. They’re a bad look on you, not because Ghost doesn’t think you can handle yourself, but because he knows that you can handle yourself, so the only way you could’ve gotten those bruises is if you were forced into a corner. He would consider that they were an accident, somehow self-inflicted, but he knows better than that. 

“Are you tired?” Ghost asks, even though he knows the answer.

“I haven’t slept in a few days.” There it is.

“And for the few days that you did sleep?” He thinks he knows the answer to this too.

“I don’t know if you can really call it that.” Bingo.

It’s not surprising to him. Not only has he been on enough missions with you to know how hard it is for you to sleep outside of the base, but he’s managed to get you to actually tell him about your sleeping struggles. He knows. He watches you subtly kick off your boots, letting them fall over onto their sides, as if you could read his mind and know what he’s going to request next.

“Lay down,” Ghost puts a bare hand on your clothed shoulder and lightly pushes at it, prompting you to lean back onto your side, settling into the bed with the blankets still wrapped around you.

Ghost doesn’t mind the lack of blankets he’s getting. As long as you’re the one hogging them, he finds it easier to go without them, strangely enough. He lays down onto the bed next to you, his head naturally above yours, and neither of you bother to change positions. He doesn’t attempt to pull the blankets from you, and you don’t try to move away from him, the both of you simply existing together in one small space with nothing interrupting you two. A thin layer of air, similar to the blanket covering you, seems to cover the both of you, not trapping you together but instead comforting the both of you. The air feels woven from Ghost’s thoughts, yarn strewn from his cerebral cortex, emotions run through an invisible loom to create the beautiful quilt that covers the both of you. 

Ghost’s hand comes up to thumb at the edge of his balaclava, and he pulls it up the tiniest bit, but then pauses to think.

He knows that if you just turn your head up the tiniest bit, you’ll see his face. The blonde stubble peeking out from under his skin, the small dent forming in the middle of his nose from the constant wearing of his balaclava, and possibly the most embarrassing of all, that small smile he wears that pulls at his already cracking lips that draws blood on occasion. Despite all of this, he pulls his face covering all the way off, and tosses it onto his desk. Your face doesn’t move an inch despite how obvious it is that some kind of fabric has hit the desk. 

He considers saying thank you, but Ghost doesn’t deem it necessary. You’re so close to sleeping that he doesn’t want to risk ruining your chances by talking to you. So, instead, he just brings his arm over your side and lets his hand reach up into the nape of your neck to toy with the small hairs tapering off there. They’re short enough that he’s essentially just brushing his fingers against the skin of your neck, but he assumes you don’t mind, considering how you continue to not move. You stay still peacefully, soft breaths leaving you as your body starts to actually relax.

So you weren’t lying about your lack of sleep, he thinks, his own eyes slowly closing, not that I thought you were, anyway.

Your breathing creates the perfect white noise to him. The vibrations emitting from your larynx that escape your mouth reach his ear canals, where they bounce off of his eardrums, and move down from his middle ears to his inner ears where the nerve endings that live there turn the vibrations into electrical impulses and are translated by his brain into actual sound. The translation sounds like more than just a simple sound, though; it’s like your breathing is translated into actual words rather than breathing, words like safe and guarded. Those small vibrations bounce around in his ears and turn into syllables, then eventually whispers, then firm speech. 

Those words are like music to his ears, as cliché as it is, and he cherishes every word he hears―more than he’ll ever let you know.

[captain-mj]

So I got an idea I need to share-

Banshee Soap? I know Banshees are technically female but I'm just in love with the idea of Soap being a banshee in disguise and him having to reveal that in order to save Ghost or something-

Sorry I just needed to share this :)

I love this!! Sure! I feel it fix October vibes.

Ghost had heard the wailing of the spirits before. They were there the night Roba buried him alive. Howling and screaming at him. Wanting to get to him.

They had silenced once he had burst out of the dirt, but they had watched. He had no proof. Had not seen a damn thing. But he knew something was out there observing him. They had watched him shake each bug off of his skin.

He had heard men talk about the war as an entity. A being that screamed and called people to their deaths. Maybe they had been crazy. Ghost preferred that thought. Quite a bit actually.

But another part liked the guarantee that he wouldn't be dying alone. That no matter what, something would be out there for him. Watching him. Observing him.

Tonight, on this roof, he accepted that he'd hear those spirits again.

Soap sat next to him, guarding the entrances so Ghost could try to snipe who he could in relative safety. Someone kept trying to snipe him back, but they had just managed to hit the lip of the roof so far. But they were moving, making it hard to pinpoint where they were.

There were too many people. They weren't going to last forever. Ghost was running out of bullets. Soap's gun didn't have the range. The element of surprise had been lost hours ago.

He sighed. His biggest regret would be that Soap was going to die along with him.

Ghost refused to show fear though. "Just keep shooting Johnny. We'll get out of here."

Soap smiled at him. "Course we will, Lt. You're doi-"

A gunshot whizzed past their ears and Ghost quickly got back on his sniper. He sent a gunshot right through him, watching them fall down. Not the one that was moving, but they were a little safer. Ghost slowly let out a breath and relaxed.

Soap hesitated and looked at Ghost. "Lt?"

"Don't look at me like that. Just keep watching."

Soap frowned at him.

Someone whistled. Low and long.

Ghost heard the spirits.

"You religious, Johnny?"

"No."

"Neither am I. Guess neither of is going to pray."

Soap hesitated, stepping a little closer. "Sim-"

That sniper Ghost had been fighting with. The bullet went straight him. Blood splattered on the ground.

Soap stumbled but he didn't fall. He just stood there, blood dripping down. The next bullet went through his head and Ghost covered his face.

He didn't want to see.

How selfish.

But he didn't want to see.

The spirits. They screamed so loud and so long. Ghost scrambled to cover his ears and he tried to breath. Something was wrong. There was so much blood on the roof. It had to be an inch thick and it kept coming.

Ghost tried to stand up but the moment he wasn't covering his ears, pain would lance through him. The sound tried to drive itself all the way into his skull. Clawing his eardrums and worming its way into his brain until his temples were pounding.

The glass on his helmet fully shattered and Ghost started to scream himself. Anything to drown out the noise.

It started to hit him that Johnny was dead.

His partner.

His best friend.

Ghost screamed louder. Until the earth itself felt like it was tearing.

His hands felt wet.

Slowly, he started to pull his hands away, planning to just let his eardrums bust. Maybe let his brain hemorrhage.

Hands grabbed his and slammed them back over his ears. Someone straddled him, head butting against his so their foreheads sat together.

Ghost squeezed his eyes tighter and waited.

Time moved like honey through his fingers. Slow and languid but steady.

"Simon."

Ghost took a steady breath.

"Johnny?"

Soap was pressed them closer together. "Just breath. Your head must be killing you."

Ghost opened his eyes.

Soap was there. Gorgeous, but not solid.

Ghost stared.

"Sorry about that, Lt. Didn't mean to hurt you. Just keep your ears covered and keep your eyes on me."

Ghost shook his head slowly and looked.

Bodies. Dozens. Helmets shattered. Blood pooling out of the orifices in their face.

He tasted blood, realizing it was his own. Judging by the sun, hours had passed.

Ghost swallowed and shivered, feeling an intense cold.

Soap stood up, feet barely touching the ground. "Don't tell Price. Please."

"Kill me if I do?"

"Nae. Could never kill you Ghostie." Soap carefully helped Ghost get his helmet off. Broken shards of it falling out. He watched him lift his mask up and then off, blood smearing. "Let me get the blood out of your hair."

Ghost nodded and sipped the canteen of water he had on hand. Soap gently started to get the blood out of his hair. Gentle and loving. He kissed Ghost's forehead. "I'm sorry for hurting you. Are you okay?"

Ghost had a lot of feelings. Okay was not one of them.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What are you?"

"Banshee. There's a reason I never had a problem clearing out places when I was alone." Soap gently combed his fingers through his hair. "You're okay. I promise."

Ghost nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm okay..."

"You're okay." Soap said softly. "Try not to do this since usually it kills my companions but... I was pretty sure you'd be fine."

"Was dead anyway."

"Exactly. I had to take the risk. You'd either die or... maybe not die." Soap smiled at him.

Ghost nodded. "Glad you took the chance. Even if my ears are still ringing."

Soap laughed and offered his hand to help him up. They both stared for a moment.

Ghost realized he didn't have his mask and it must've showed.

"Don't worry. No living humans for miles. You're perfectly safe."

"There's you."

"Yeah. There's me."

Ghost took a deep breath, feeling it shudder in his chest. "anything I should know about banshees?"

"To see them usually brings misfortune, but I turned that off for you."

"Touching you is... fine?"

"Yeah, of course. Nothing different from before today."

Ghost nodded and slowly reached up. Soap went solid again beneath his fingers. He gently trailed his fingers over his cheek, smearing the blood.

Soap leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Simon, we should be going. This is going to be hard to explain."

Ghost nodded and followed him.

He was pretty sure he'd never quite get rid of the tinnitus.

[torveiglyart]

I debated a long time on whether his right or left leg should go, but I thought losing his left leg would be ‘symbolic’ of him slowly being distanced from the rest of the team in seasons 5 and 6. The exact opposite limb as shiro, the left side motif for Hunk and Pidge, and the lack of change on his right for Keith. During the later seasons, it kinda hurt to see him only every confiding in Allura, who’s attention was split from Lotor, and the mice, who are known snitches. I didn’t want to cut the right, as that would symbolize his loss of Blue and… his loss of Blue. It felt redundant to the red bayard. Actually, let’s talk about the red bayard for a moment.

As I see it, there are two pivotal reasons as to why Lance got a new form for his bayard: The Altean Broadsword.

The first reason is his character growth. Lance is the ‘class clown’ character of the paladins, but that persona is not as viable in a war as it is in a classroom. Lance has had to mature very quickly due to the circumstances surrounding his requirements as a paladin. The Altean Broadsword is a symbol of both his maturity as a person and his maturity into the solider role. Zarkon was the only other paladin known to have more than one form for his bayard, and held a strong connection to the Black Lion. Lance’s ability to have not just the basic rifle, but a sniper rifle and a sword shows his connection to Red, and possibly his nature as a blue paladin: flexibility. His bayard forms allow short to mid to long range that the other paladins don’t have. His ability to listen, adapt, connect, and support is reflected in his bayard.

The second is less happy. The Altean Broadsword could be a reflection of Shiro/Kuron’s need for Keith as the right hand of Voltron, and how Lance has been Keith’s ‘replacement’ multiple times. Lance was Keith’s red paladin before he was Shiro’s, and the two of them had to adjust how they view each other in Lance’s new role. Since Shiro was the clone, there could have definitely been great reluctance to treat Lance as the red paladin and right hand, but rather as another subordinate. This reluctance would have stemmed from how the Empire, and specifically Haggar, views the roles of each paladin, and how the other paladins were ‘subordinate’ to Black Paladin Zarkon. With Allura’s bayard being a whip, Lance’s original semi-long to mid range of combat was covered for the season 1-2 team set up in Blue. With Lance being in Red, a swordsman was missing on the team, and that role defaulted to Lance. He once again was a replacement for Keith, like back in the Galaxy Garrison. Keith leaves, and Lance fills in. This reasoning definitely does not help Lance’s declining mental strength when it comes to being respected by the team and feeling like a seventh wheel.

Overall, I do not think that these reasons are mutually exclusive to one another. I think both are true to varying degrees. Lance had a very complicated character growth arc that was overshadowed by Lotor, Shiro’s return, and the mess that is season 8. That’s not to say the other things weren’t important, and there were others (Hunk) that DEFINITELY deserved more attention, but there were things that could have been worked on. Lance manages, throughout the show, to be a parallel character to, well, everyone. A competitive pilot like Keith, caring and trusting like Hunk, inquisitive and quick thinking like Pidge, supportive and motivational like Shiro, and opinionated and just like Allura. But what does that leave him as?

I really went on a rant there but would love to hear other people’s thoughts about this. Yes, both the leg and what I wrote. You can also request art! I mainly do Voltron art but I do have experience with other fandoms (The Owl House, My Hero Academia, Star Wars, She-Ra, etc.), and would love to fulfill some asks.