#And I'm frustrated and saddened and deeply disappointed by all of it.

[kismetconstellations]

There are so many ways that Voltron: Legendary Defender failed its characters. From the unfathomably idiotic decision to kill Allura off in the finale, to putting Coran through the pain of losing his family twice over, to all of the "jokes" at the expense of Hunk's anxiety, weight, and stomach problems.

But, to me, the most egregious example of this will forever be the numerous ways that Shiro was mistreated, even though I fully believe that most of them were unintentional and the fault of incompetence, rather than maliciousness.

I never expected a show with a TV-Y7 rating that was made to sell toys to children to address this character's extensive trauma in any meaningful way. And, perhaps there was a push behind the scenes to sideline him in order to bring Keith to the forefront, due to Keith being the head of Voltron in previous incarnations, and Shiro essentially being a Canon Foreigner created exclusively for this series.

But, when you have: - A poorly executed attempt to recreate Shiro's fight with Zarkon in the Astral Plane, void of the stunning visuals, impressively fluid fight choreography, and emotional and narrative stakes.

(Shiro fighting the show's main villain and his predecessor hand-to-hand for control of one of the most powerful weapons in the universe, vs the Paladins fighting shadowy, faceless foes that none of them- aside from Allura- have any personal connections to or conflict with, even once their identities are revealed, with long-range weapons, inside of Honerva's head.)

- Shiro, the previously "undefeated" Champion of Zarkon's gladiatorial arena and a highly trained and skilled martial artist, being slapped across the bridge of his own ship.

-Shiro's personal abuser telling him that the arm that was forcibly grafted onto his body in an attempt to turn him into a weapon for the Galra Empire is "the strongest part" of him,

Slav, an ally, echoing the sentiment and arguing that Shiro would be "even stronger with two robotic arms", and the first half of Season Seven confirming as much by depicting Shiro standing, often completely mute, on the sidelines

until he's outfitted with a new prosthetic arm. Only then is he actively allowed to participate in combat, again, and promoted to Captain of the Atlas.

-Shiro winning an intergalactic arm wrestling tournament to prove that he isn't a washed-up retiree (at the ripe old age of twenty-six), with that prosthetic.

-Said prosthetic being a mirror of his abuser's.

-No acknowledgement of Shiro's essence being transferred into the body of his clone that is down an arm. Or, how he's coping with not only not having a right arm at all, but also having been dead for a huge chunk of time, trapped inside the consciousness of the Black Lion and watching on helplessly as someone wearing his face tried to kill everyone he loves, and then resurrected to be suddenly "retired" through no choice of his own.

-Aside, of course, from an all-too lighthearted and chipper comment on routine helping him get through "being in the infinite void of the Black Lion", and a throwaway quip about how "having my consciousness transplanted from the infinity of Voltron's inner quintessence into the dead body of an evil clone of myself" has left him "a little out of sorts".

-And, Shiro not getting to kill his abuser, or even best him in combat.

Instead, he lies beaten and helpless, once again, as Keith, his replacement, takes Sendak out.

It crosses the line from clumsy writing to infuriating negligence and ineptitude.

The repeated violations of Shiro's autonomy, and what seems by all rights to be unintended ableism, even though it borders on outright disrespectful, went above and beyond any terrible writing and direction that I anticipated gritting my teeth and slogging through when I decided to finally bite the bullet and watch this show. It's utterly baffling to me that no one seemed to stop and realize that, "Hey, maybe introducing and then reinforcing the sentiment that a disabled man's prosthetic is the 'strongest part' of him, and he's effectively weak and useless without it, is a bad idea", at any point in the creative process before these episodes made it to air.

I wholeheartedly believe that as much as other characters were wronged, Voltron: Legendary Defender and its notoriously hellish fanbase that was more concerned with who these characters were having sex with than the actual plot, did not deserve Takashi Shirogane.

Shiro; a gay man, ace pilot, ambitious space explorer, and scarred trauma survivor who was abducted and forced to kill for the entertainment of his captors, subjected to unimaginable torture, and had his body modified without his knowledge or consent twice, yet never let any of his experiences, no matter how grueling or dehumanizing, stop him from being gentle, compassionate, noble, brave, self-sacrificing, and everything that epitomizes a True Hero, right to the bitter end.

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

The Night of the First Mistake

Sequel to

Synopsis: pre X-orcist, almost a year after Nightmare's death, Dream is still not on top of his grief and causes him to resort to desperate measures.

Tw mentions of death/dead loved ones.

X-orcist au belongs to me and @zu-is-here

Dreams, Demons and Desires is by me.

Enjoy

Almost a year had past since he'd last seen Nightmare. The skeleton couldn't say he had mourned him, but the news of his death had been unfortunate to say the least. Who could have seen someone like Nightmare dying in such a preventable way? Not him, that's for sure.

He was a friend... Or at least a friendly acquaintance, clearly he'd not been quite close enough to Night's inner circle to be invited to the funeral. He'd never even met Night's brother. Despite that, the news of his parting had deeply saddened him and every so often, he thought of him with a sigh.

A good customer and a good person.

This evening, Nightmare played at his thoughts again, probably drudged up by the anniversary of the accident approaching, he hadn’t meant to make note of the day, but he had. a few weeks would be the anniversary of the day he heard the news. 

He thought back to a year ago, a few weeks before his death. The words he’d said about his brother and the increasing frustration about his sinful thoughts. Killer didn't judge him for such feelings, he was no stranger to sin.

Other then that, there was nothing at all strange about this night.

Tonight, just like any night, he was in his shop and the counter. It was a cold October and pretty soon he'd be closing up.

It was dark and chilly in his shop and had a strangely pungent smell, which hit the moment you walked in. A mix of crushed herbs and spices, old books and stale coffee.

An old set of scales sat on the counter top in front of him, as did a till, several glass jars and containers and a large collection of dirty coffee mugs.

Behind him there was a large book case full of many strange books. Ones with faded titles, ones with thick leather bindings, some with large strains spreading across the covers or pieces missing. If you asked him, he'd liked to have said that he'd read all of them... But there were a few he hadn't. He wasn't much of a reader outside of this collection.

As he nursed yet another cup of coffee from the café next door, he tapped his slender skeleton fingers on the counter top. He was bored.

With a glance at the clock, he decided today that he could close up early. It was his shop after all, he made the rules. A small collection of trinkets and charms hung around his neck and clinked together against his old coat, as he got to his feet.

Just as he prepared to take today's earnings from the till to count it, he heard the door and a jingle of the shop bell, indicating someone had entered.

He set an empty eye socket in their direction as they froze, looking nervous.

The person was new, but also something about them was strangely familiar. After scanning them for a moment, his face twisted into a sly smile upon realising who the new comer could be. He turned his face to them fully, staring his pitch eyes right through them. They tensed, which amused him slightly.

"well hello Little Light.... How may I help you"

Dream seemed taken back slightly by the pet name. It wasn't something he was used to. His hands fused with the fastening on his coat.

"uhh Hello.....I’m..... Uh.."

The shop keep chuckled again. Such nervous behaviour wasn't something he saw often from his customers. Looks like it was going to be an interesting night and to think, he was going to close up.

"nervous Lil light?"

Dream once again tensed and shuddered slightly.

"Please.... Don't call me that" he stammered slightly before taking a breath "My name is Dream"

The shop keepers grin got even wider and it made a chill run up Dream's spine. There was something extremely unnerving about this skeleton. Maybe it was the emptiness of his eyes or the strange carvings around them, but Dream was sure that it was more then that.

The atmosphere of the shop was very unsettling and kind of cramped in Dream’s opinion. There were many trinkets, stones, crystals and small animal bones stacked neatly on the shelves. It was this, along with bags of salt and bundles of sage and garlic, that reassured him he was in the right place for what he needed. 

"Dream huh?.... Thought so" he said in a low tone "I'm so glad to finally meet you"

The nervous shifting of his hands continued, as Dream once again tensed even further. He was acting friendly, but it still felt ever so slightly...off.

"h-how do you know me?"

"I knew your brother and I'd recognise that pendant I sold him anywhere" he said, with his eyes looking at Dream's chest.

Dreams fingers quickly shot to the star charm hanging from his neck, and gripped it tight. Looks like this was the right place.

"Not to mention there's your golden eyes" he  continued, shifting his gaze straight into Dream's eye sockets. It was strange how Dream knew where he was looking, even without eye lights.

"he often talked about them......He was right when he said they were very beautiful if I do say so myself~"

Dreams face blushed slightly, but he felt a familiar twist in this chest at the mention of Nightmare and a sinking feeling when he was reminded how Night felt about him. His brother had often complimented his eyes.....

He'd just never really understood it was more then brotherly affection. At least until now.

"I.... Uh" Dream said before clearing his throat "You're Killer.... Aren't you?"

Flexing his fingers, Killer nodded. The grin didn't leave his face.

"looks like my reputation proceeds me"

Dream let go of his necklace and a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I thought it might be you.... Based off something he wrote in his diary".

Before Night's accident, Dream had never even considered reading his diary. That was just a basic code of conduct. However, after his death, it became something Dream had often thought about. The diary, and everything else Nightmare owned, now belonged to him. For that reason he'd taken the book out of Nightmare's room.

However, he'd just kept it on his bedside table for almost a year before he finally had the courage to read it.

It had mostly been a fond look over some old memories, some good and some bad. But there were also passages about his feelings for Dream, sometimes written confessions addressed him. Every word was full of truth, longing and pain. Dream had felt it all.

Those had been hard to read, but he'd not skipped a single page and read them each through several times.

Nearer the end of the book, Nightmare had started talking about his interest in the supernatural. Dream remembered his twin getting fascinated in that and spending long evenings talking with him about it over tea and biscuits.

One thing Dream hadn't known about, where his trips to the next town over, where he wrote about finding this shop and the shop keep. This had been where the interest started. It was this that had lead Dream to come here.

"right..." Killer said, downing what was left in his coffee mug and setting in on the counter top.

"well.... What can I help you with?"

Yeah.. Nightmare had written that Killer was always one to cut to the point. Dream knew that what he was going to ask sounded insane and he wasn't even fully sure if Killer was the right person to ask. But at this point he was desperate, he just needed to know. With his grip returning to his brothers pendent, he remembered who he was doing this for.

He took a deep breath.

"Can you bring people back from the dead?"

Killer didn't react visibly to that. But he drew out a long silence. After a little Dream was sure he saw his jaw clench. The silence was completely deafening, broken only by the sound of Killer's fingers tapping the counter top. Dream figured that he was probably struggling to think what to say. After what felt like a life time, he spoke.

"I specialise in charms and equipment for preventative measures to stop spirits inhabiting homes....I do not....." he paused

"I don't try and bring the dead to the living realms".

Dreams face fell. He really shouldn't have been so disappointed, it was a crazy ask. But with the way Killer spoke and what he sold in the shop, he'd felt so close to what he wanted. But maybe it really was just impossible.

He felt tears threatening to spill, he just couldn't take all this guilt anymore. All he wanted to do was tell his brother he was sorry. That night. That kiss. That dam horribly wonderful kiss...and that car. 

"however...." Killer continued.

Dream felt hope flush through at those words and stood up slightly straighter. Killer turned his back to dream and started looking over the bookshelves behind the counter.

He didn't say a word, as Dream curiously watched him. He ran his thumb across the spines of several of the oldest and most dusty looking of them, eventually plucking out a large leather bound book with silver straps.

He walked back over, blowing dust off it as he did, and set it down on the counter with a light thud. The cover was extremely dusty and the leather was cracked and split in several places, yet the title still read fairly clearly and Dreams felt his heart skipped a beat.

The Practice of a Necromancer. Vol one of three. Summoning, Controlling and Banishing.

"I've not read this one fully, but it's been in my collection for years.... I suppose this would be the right place to look"

With that, he slowly opened the book and very carefully started to turn its pages. The paper was completely yellowed and clearly very fragile. There were no photographs, only hand done drawings of various items and also what looked like people, but with strange and uncanny faces. There were also other frightening images that Dream was trying not to look at.

Killer eventually stopped and ran his finger across a page.

"ah ha" he said "to summon a spirit into the living world"

He read over the text for a moment, as Dream watched impatiently. Killer knitted his non-existent eyebrows and narrowed his eyes.

"this stuff sounds overly complicated to me..... so I guess I'm not sure really"

But Dream didn't really seem to be playing much attention to Killer's words now. He was so desperately trying to read the text upside-down. Reading was something that Dream always struggled with anyway, so reading upside down would be near impossible. He reached forward to try and pull the book to him.

But he jumped back in surprise as Killer slapped his hand across the book, sending some dust into the air.

"now now now not so hasty Lil Light" he said returning back to a sweet tone, as he said the a pet name that made Dream's toes curl.

In his haste Dream had forgotten that this was a shop, not a library, so of course he wouldn't just hand it over.

The smaller skeleton knew that the book was probably pricey so it's not like Killer would just let him have it. It was clearly very old and Dream worried that he wouldn't have enough for it, but if he had to pay all the money he had to buy it. He would.

Reaching inside of his pocket, Dream pulled out a bundle of paper money and placed it on the counter and next to the book. Killer looked at it for a moment, before he took it and counted how much money was in the bundle. He ran his fingers across the notes, looking as if he was very tempted and contemplating his next move.

But then, much to Dream's disappointment, he put it back down on the counter.

"I don't want your money dream... That's not what I meant"

An unhappy wine left Dream's mouth, as Killer proceeded to hand his money back to him. Just as he was about to ask why, Killer cut him off.

"it's not for sale"

"but what if I just borro-

"or for rent or loan"

Dreams soul twisted. This felt so Incredibly unfair. He wasn't ever one to really get angry or feel hatred for people. But why had Killer gotten this book down if he didn't intend to sell it? Was he just trying to mess with him?

It was that moment that he wasn't sure he really liked Killer all that much.

He sighed.

"h-how come? Can I do anything to change your mind?"

Killer sadly shook his head.

"Dream....... I like to read the stuff for research purposes not for a practical use"

Dream opened his mouth to object, but killer silenced him.

"and I don't care what you say... but I don't think you're just interested in the topic"

Dream tried very hard not to show disappointment on his face, but of course Killer picked up on it. It upset him that his intentions were so easy to guess. Then again he'd opened with 'can you bring people back from the dead'.

He really should have asked in a different way. Feeling like an idiot, he tried to say that he wasn't intending to use the book in practice. But Killer once again shook his head.

He stood up slightly and gave Dream a sympathetic look, or a sympathetic as he could make it through his cold eyes.

"look....I know you miss him and that's ok I've lost people myself to" he said in a uncharacteristically gentle tone, which sounded fake. 

Dream looked at his feet.

"but the dead need to be left dead. Trying to bring them back never ends well, Nightmare wouldn't want you to get hurt trying to help him"

Dreams eyes stayed fixed on the floor, not wanting to look at killer any longer. He didn't want him to see him cry. He didn't want to look like a baby. Just as he was going to try arguing again, behind him he heard the shop door open and the bell ring

He looked back at Killer seeing he'd straightened up.

"K-killer...." came a soft but slightly panicked voice.

Curiously, Dream looked over his shoulder at the source of the voice. It was another skeleton stood by the door.

In all his life, Dream had never seen someone look to tired. They seem to be slightly younger then Dreams age but it was hard to tell how much. Their appearance was clearly young, but the huge bags under their eyes aged their face several years. The most notable thing about them was that their eye lights where small, indicating that they were on edge.

They were wearing a oversized cream knitted sweater and had a maroon scarf decorated with a paw print pattern tide around their neck. They fiddled with it as their eyes a looked at Killer and then to Dream.

From where he was, Dream could also see them wearing several of the necklaces and charms that Killer a sold, as well as a few layers of bandages around their arms.

Killer hastily exited from behind the counter and approached them.

"Hey Cappuccino......." he said, trying again to sound soft.

Ccino wasted no time in burying his head to Killers chest and wrapping his arms around him.

In response, Killer stumbled slightly and looked momentarily taken back and very uncomfortable. After a moment he sigh, before gently placing an hand on his back.

"hey.....it's ok ya wimp... I'm guessing they're back right?"

Ccino simply nodded, Killer sighed.

"Dream can you show yourself out? I've got to take care of this, we're closing anyway. I'm sorry I couldn't help you better"

As Killer attempted to comfort the shaking skeleton, Dream turned his attention back to the book in front of him. It was just within his reach, the page was tantalising.

It was so clear, a set instructions of the exact thing he'd need to do to reach his goal. 

Killer's warning played in his mind. 

But he knew what he was doing right? It was his brother, what did Killer really know about what Nightmare would have wanted. He didn't know how.... Close... They were. At least he thought he knew.

It was a split second choice.

As Killer continued to try and comfort his companion, he saw Dream hastily exit the shop without saying another word. He stared at the door.

It didn't feel right. 

He narrowed his eyes and stepped back from Ccino slightly.

"hang on"

He walked back to the counter and was relieved to see that the book was still there, however a moment later he noticed something else that make him freeze and curse under his breath.

"what's wrong?" Ccino asked, walking up next to him.

Killer didn't answer and instead picked up his book and looked at it closely to confirm what he saw. When he saw he was right, he near growled.

"Killer?" Ccino asked not seeing the problem.

"look....."Killer said quietly.

He ran his finger down the spine where the pages joined together. Once you looked closely you could see the remnants of torn paper sticking out.

"he took the page"

references coming soon.

[angstandhappiness]

Very sad

There are so many ways that Voltron: Legendary Defender failed its characters. From the unfathomably idiotic decision to kill Allura off in the finale, to putting Coran through the pain of losing his family twice over, to all of the "jokes" at the expense of Hunk's anxiety, weight, and stomach problems.

But, to me, the most egregious example of this will forever be the numerous ways that Shiro was mistreated, even though I fully believe that most of them were unintentional and the fault of incompetence, rather than maliciousness.

I never expected a show with a TV-Y7 rating that was made to sell toys to children to address this character's extensive trauma in any meaningful way. And, perhaps there was a push behind the scenes to sideline him in order to bring Keith to the forefront, due to Keith being the head of Voltron in previous incarnations, and Shiro essentially being a Canon Foreigner created exclusively for this series.

But, when you have: - A poorly executed attempt to recreate Shiro's fight with Zarkon in the Astral Plane, void of the stunning visuals, impressively fluid fight choreography, and emotional and narrative stakes.

(Shiro fighting the show's main villain and his predecessor hand-to-hand for control of one of the most powerful weapons in the universe, vs the Paladins fighting shadowy, faceless foes that none of them- aside from Allura- have any personal connections to or conflict with, even once their identities are revealed, with long-range weapons, inside of Honerva's head.)

- Shiro, the previously "undefeated" Champion of Zarkon's gladiatorial arena and a highly trained and skilled martial artist, being slapped across the bridge of his own ship.

-Shiro's personal abuser telling him that the arm that was forcibly grafted onto his body in an attempt to turn him into a weapon for the Galra Empire is "the strongest part" of him,

Slav, an ally, echoing the sentiment and arguing that Shiro would be "even stronger with two robotic arms", and the first half of Season Seven confirming as much by depicting Shiro standing, often completely mute, on the sidelines

until he's outfitted with a new prosthetic arm. Only then is he actively allowed to participate in combat, again, and promoted to Captain of the Atlas.

-Shiro winning an intergalactic arm wrestling tournament to prove that he isn't a washed-up retiree (at the ripe old age of twenty-six), with that prosthetic.

-Said prosthetic being a mirror of his abuser's.

-No acknowledgement of Shiro's essence being transferred into the body of his clone that is down an arm. Or, how he's coping with not only not having a right arm at all, but also having been dead for a huge chunk of time, trapped inside the consciousness of the Black Lion and watching on helplessly as someone wearing his face tried to kill everyone he loves, and then resurrected to be suddenly "retired" through no choice of his own.

-Aside, of course, from an all-too lighthearted and chipper comment on routine helping him get through "being in the infinite void of the Black Lion", and a throwaway quip about how "having my consciousness transplanted from the infinity of Voltron's inner quintessence into the dead body of an evil clone of myself" has left him "a little out of sorts".

-And, Shiro not getting to kill his abuser, or even best him in combat.

Instead, he lies beaten and helpless, once again, as Keith, his replacement, takes Sendak out.

It crosses the line from clumsy writing to infuriating negligence and ineptitude.

The repeated violations of Shiro's autonomy, and what seems by all rights to be unintended ableism, even though it borders on outright disrespectful, went above and beyond any terrible writing and direction that I anticipated gritting my teeth and slogging through when I decided to finally bite the bullet and watch this show. It's utterly baffling to me that no one seemed to stop and realize that, "Hey, maybe introducing and then reinforcing the sentiment that a disabled man's prosthetic is the 'strongest part' of him, and he's effectively weak and useless without it, is a bad idea", at any point in the creative process before these episodes made it to air.

I wholeheartedly believe that as much as other characters were wronged, Voltron: Legendary Defender and its notoriously hellish fanbase that was more concerned with who these characters were having sex with than the actual plot, did not deserve Takashi Shirogane.

Shiro; a gay man, ace pilot, ambitious space explorer, and scarred trauma survivor who was abducted and forced to kill for the entertainment of his captors, subjected to unimaginable torture, and had his body modified without his knowledge or consent twice, yet never let any of his experiences, no matter how grueling or dehumanizing, stop him from being gentle, compassionate, noble, brave, self-sacrificing, and everything that epitomizes a True Hero, right to the bitter end.