reach invasion

Ok but imagine Lance being blackmailed by Lotor into joining the Galra empire

The paladins going on a mission led by Keith in Shiro’s absence. For some reason, Lance gets captured and they’re forced to leave without him. Lotor takes an interest in him and offers him a deal; enter the service of the Galra empire, and it will never attempt to annex the Planet Earth .
Lance at first refuses, and says that Voltron will destroy the empire altogether. Lotor just smiles.

“I don’t doubt Voltron’s potential to dismantle my father’s kingdom. But having said that, it didn’t grow to the extent it has over a span of ten-thousand years for nothing. The empire’s reach is constantly expanding across the galaxy. For every planet your lions free, another ten are subjected to my reign as we speak. And your lions can only be in so many places at once! Even if word of your planet’s invasion reached your fellow paladdin’s ears, there’s no way you would be able to prevent at least some form of warfare from being unleashed before you arrived at the scene. How do you plan to save a planet that’s been turned into an apocalyptic wasteland?”
Imagine Lance’s fear for his family winning him over and he agrees to the deal. Imagine Lotor submitting him to all kinds of torturous surgeries and injecting him full of drugs in order to break his mind and turn him into a living weapon. Imagine Lance assuring himself that it’s for the sake of his family. It becomes a mantra that he uses to cash in a piece of humanity every time he needs to make another kill. Eventually it fades out, to the back of his mind.
By the time the paladdins finally track him down, it’s too late. The friendly, trusting goofy boy who they know and love is gone. All that’s left in his place are a pair of cold, glazed, emotionless eyes that sends shudders down their spines.
When they summon up the courage to remember why they came, they tell him they’re here to save him. He just gives a mirthless laugh
“I’m not as stupid as you think I am” He sneers as he throws his bayard at Keith’s feet.
“This is what you came here for. You can’t officially replace me without it, can you?”
Lance fighting back tears that he didn’t know he was still capable of shedding as he retreats back to Lotor’s ship. Imagine Lotor’s voice reaching him via an earpiece, just as he considers going back to his friends.
“I won’t stop you if you decide to go back on our agreement. I’m sure your family will understand where your loyalties lie”
Imagine Lance barely making it back to his chambers on the ship before breaking down

RATT
Circa 1984
Photographer Unknown

Ratt is an American heavy metal band that had significant commercial success in the 1980s, with their albums having been certified as gold, platinum, and multi-platinum by the RIAA.

REQUEST: Calling [Gladiolus/Fem!Reader]

Originally posted by deez-nocts

^ This is because I needed the butt. Okay? Okay.

Luckily, I’ve never written a story for Gladio, which means, I’m fresh full of ideas for him! :3 This is meant for female readers mostly since the request was for Gladio’s Girlfriend… And my mistake, I made Gladio break up with Reader.

Almost done with requests. Holy shit. I’m putting up a limit next time, lol.

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Title: Recovery, Healing, and Jethro Gibbs (Part 2)

Code: LB0006

Requested by: @crimescreen

Words: 1,806

Note: Part 1

Warnings: THIS IS RATHER GRAPHIC. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. Domestic violence, mentions of sexual abuse, probably eventual smut.

Also, please consider donating to help those that have experienced a trauma much like this fictional one. There are so many people out there that have been hurt, and your support can help.

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6

pizza

this has gotta be the dumbest thing i’ve ever contributed to this tag but the text post just EMANATES the Reach to my 1 am logic

freaky-zombie-chick  asked:

Just read your latest update of SSLL and I really enjoy it. Axe is HT!Sans nickname, my nickname for him will forever be Jaws, after that shark. I hope he doesn't smell like the body spray but instead of fresh meat. But as always, keep up the good work.

I’m glad you liked it!  I do like the nickname Jaws.  x]
Oh man, imagine if he did smell like the body spray?


He leaned in, inhaling deeply as he sniffed you.  You bristled from the invasion, reaching out to shove him away, but it was as if you were pushing against a wall; he refused to budge.  His nasal ridge buried itself into your hair, a furious grunt issuing from within his chest at the revelation.

“you smell like all of them,” he practically growled.

You started to gag, trying to hold your breath.  He was too close!  You could smell the Axe Bodyspray all over him, as if he had soaked his clothing in an entire bottle.  It was permiating from his bones–it was even on his breath!

What other scent did he need to cover up to wear that much Axe?!

“…Can’t…breathe…”

He didn’t listen.  Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his body.  You struggled as realization dawned.

He was marking you with his scent.

“Noooo!  Stop!  A-anything… anything but the Axe!”

It was too late.

This was your scent now.

It was called warcasting.

If one of the sixty-three member races of the council wanted to legally wage war, their soldiers were obligated to wear a uniform designed by the council itself. While the overall form differed among species, one of the common elements was a camera tucked into the right side of the helmet. It recorded everything the soldier did for the entire conflict, and had served to decrease the occurrences of war crimes and had made documentation and archival of conflicts easy and painless, since it was all run through a unified system.

Unfortunately, the system had a single drawback; it was all run through old communication satellites, as launching an entirely new galaxy-wide system of military-grade satellites was deemed unnecessary and cost prohibitive, since local governments would have to pay for their construction and operation. These old satellites that the warcasts were beamed through were notoriously weak in terms of safeguards. Before long, hackers found their way into the system and were uploading the funniest, coolest, or goriest warcasts to the G-net. And it was this way that the Interstellar Marines of the United Colonial Federation got their awful reputation.

No one thought humans were outright stupid. Sure, there were stasticial outliers like in every other race, but as a whole, humans integrated pretty well into the galaxy. And their military was far from the worst in the galaxy, but due to a few tremendous screw-ups that made their way to the net, they were now the laughing stock of the galaxy; the Federated Fuck-Ups, as they were known.

A couple of the most well-known? Chief among them was a docking incident at a Council staging base, where a UCF Marine misjudged the distance between two ships and caused a domino effect as the next six ships in line slammed into one another. The vessels were out of action for two weeks for repairs. The other most publicized screw-up came from the frontlines of the Vok Incursion, where a crate of gynoids meant for civilian pleasure-seekers was mislabeled as combat androids. When the VTOL dropped that crate and out popped a bunch of naked metal men and women, it made for some rather amusing confusion.

Which is why when the Govyyk Invasion occurred, no one was really expecting a whole lot from the humans. Of course, other militaries knew they could count on humanity–fuck-ups happen all the time, it was simply unfortunate that hackers had chosen to single out the UCF–but the civilian population was always waiting for the next warcasted disaster, maybe set to Benny Hill music.

So it was with considerable surprise when the Govyyk Invasion reached its climax, and a warcast popped up depicting a lone UCF Marine squaring off against the four meter tall Govy leader. The Marine’s helmet had been knocked off; viewers could see his comrades lying on the deck, with he and the Govy squaring off in the background.

“I know your kind,” the Govy said, looking at the patch on the Marine’s arm. “The condenser is charging. In three minutes, the center of Council power will be a new black hole. Not even you can fuck this up for me.”

The Marine sneered and unsheathed the blade resting on his chest. “I’m a UCF Interstellar Marine,” he said. “It’s my goddamn job to fuck it up.”

And after two minutes and thirty-two seconds, with the knife plunged into the Govy’s throat and the body thrown into the condenser’s power turbine, the Marine upheld the reputation of the Federated Fuck-Ups, much to the relief of the galaxy.

anonymous asked:

Maggie's really into gardening, not just bonsai trees. After the Daxamite invasion she reaches out to her alien gardening friends and manages to track down someone who has some native Kryptonian plants. (They took some cuttings before Krypton went boom. Or somebody put some in a pod. They seem to put a surprisingly large number of things into pods.) Kara cries when she gets it. Alex cries longer. The florist never has any problem with people smashing their greenhouses again.

I’m not crying, I swear it’s the onions Maggie’s growing in her fucking garden with her alien gardening friends.

Nightwing: Training 3

Imagine training with Nightwing after he’d returned from a mission with Batman and you end up in a familiar position.

Warnings: Suggestive Content

>>>>——————–>

~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~

It had been a few years and to most of your teammates surprise you and Robin who now goes by Nightwing were still together. Granted, you’d had some rough patches but then again who hasn’t? Even after a break up you’d got back together, it was weird how Dick Grayson managed to maintain positive ex relationships - but you weren’t complaining.

Dick had recently returned from a 3 week long private mission with Batman and only returned 2 days ago. Since he was accompanying his mentor, Nightwing wasn’t allowed any contact that wasn’t necessary to the investigation despite his arguments of how “(Y/n) is necessary to me”, Batman still refused.

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SnA Timeline

Livedoor blogger Death6Coin made a very handy Shoukoku no Altair timeline, which I took the liberty of translating into English. Currently it follows the Turkish calendar from Ancient Phoenicia to the start of the Great Rumeliana War (Volume 10).

UPDATE: I decided to add a few birth dates for principle characters, as well as events I noticed had been left out.

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Random: One of my favorite horrible repeat plots that kept happening to original Jaime Reyes was this weirdly specific thing where perception filters just don’t work on him. As long as the filter isn’t some kind of magic (which the Scarab just doesn’t play around with) he can see through it and see how fucking bizarre everything is. 

This happens with the original Reach invasion and then again with Maxwell Lord and both times a select few largely unpopular and kind of assholish adult heroes are his only help and then he ends up pulling 90% of the weight anyway. Like, its the single most frustrating thing?

Blue Beetle: Guys, the Reach are invading. They are literally fucking us up so hard. 

The Justice League: The Reach are so nice. So helpful. 

Blue Beetle: *angry Scarab noises*

LATER:

Blue Beetle: Everyone! Maxwell Lord is a huge fucking asshole! He’s a tool! He killed Ted Kord! He’s up to no good!

Everyone: Elect Max president! Woo!

Blue Beetle: Seriously?! I don’t want to work with Booster Gold again! He’s a massive douche-canoe. I need adultier adult supervision. This is the worst. 

No Amount of Time or Space (3/9)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: So Dick isn’t okay as he’d like people to think, but what’s new? Well, communication, apparently

or

Tim reminds Dick that communication is important aspect of friendship and Dick talks to his friends and tries to reconnect with the friends he’d lost in the face of the Reach’s invasion. Unsurprisingly, it’s hard. Part 5 of Tact

ao3 | ff.net


Dick wondered how he kept reuniting with people like this, and why they always seemed to save his life when a gun was pointed at his head. At least this time Dick was coherent enough to move the moment the arrow hit the gun and knocked it from the crook’s hand. He leapt forward, sending the guy into unconsciousness with an ecrisma stick.

Dick tied him to a light pole, and the moment he stood up, Roy was ziplining towards him. When he dropped down next to him, it was all Dick could do not to sigh.

Man, he was so not ready for this conversation. He hadn’t even had time to talk to Kaldur, yet.

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Too Young for Lady Jams

Protective Aca-Mom Chloe finds evidence that her daughter may be growing up, and she just can’t find it in herself to allow it.

(This was seriously inspired thanks to the many comments about Emily and her Lady Jams. I loved all of them and felt the need to write this. I hope you like!)

Word Count: 1796


Chloe stopped in front of the white wooden door with the lime green sign with Emily’s name written in cursive with sparkly purple paint. She wiggled the nob and shoved on Emily’s door, stumbling into the room when it finally opened. She had told Beca they need to fix it so it won’t jam, but they both know that neither one of them has any idea how to do that.

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