#like there is an abyss of difference between taking care of yourself and the anti-aging industry

[disclaimer-performatico]

Somebody needs to watch the fucking Lion King I guess

scrunching my face real hard rn

[feastfic]

On my computer right now and I just spent like, I think maybe only an hour on this??? 

But hi!!! I wrote a thing! And I really want to say things about what inspired me to do this and why I thought of this, so if you wanna know please lmk! (Please I really wanna talk about this AU digjasobjn)

So since this took less than an hour and it’s currently almost two in the morning for me (and I took my sleeping meds) this is probably rushed and doesn’t have as much going for it as I wanted, so please keep that in mind!

This will be under the cut for spoilers, and tw in advance for implied/mentioned murder. Also wildly out of character behavior but it makes sense in the context of the AU I promise; but enough of me going on. Here it is!

He was just… mad these days. Well, not mad. But certainly unhappy. Upset, maybe, was the best word to use.

Ever since he and the rest of Team Snakemouth left the Swamps, he seemed a different bug. Ever since he’d killed The Beast- a rightful act of revenge, of vengeance for his previous friends- he was bitter.

He didn’t even quite know why he felt this way. Kabbu couldn’t tell if it was a new onset grief for losing his team, rage at The Beast, fear of losing the people he currently cared about. There was so much to feel about, and not enough of him to contain all of these feelings.

So he just decided not to contain it. Not around Leif or Vi, of course. There was no way he’d expressly show them how he felt. Not when these feelings were so destructive, so unlike how he normally was. Kabbu was not a bug to hate easily or quickly. But he had a feeling that that was what was going on. He hated- no, loathed; utterly despised this feeling. He wanted, needed to take it out somehow.

He didn’t seem to care about much anymore. His fighting skill wasn’t any better or worse off, but both Leif and Vi knew something was up. Other bugs that the team had previously encountered also could tell very easily that something was up with the typically gentle beetle.

Where he was once careful in battle, he was no longer. His caution was thrown to the wind, it felt like. More nicks and scratches collected themselves on his body, not out of the battles he’d won, but just out of his lack of self-preservation.

“What is up with you lately?” Vi popped the question as they took residence in the hotel underneath the termites’ dome. “Ever since we left that swamp you’ve been acting all weird.” Even her normally sarcastic tone was tinged with real and genuine concern. Not that she’d ever say that she cared any time soon, of course.

Kabbu gave her a side-eyed look, his arms held crossed as he leaned forward on the leaf bed he got when the room was rented out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stated bluntly, his gaze focusing on the bee on the bed right across from him. Behind her was Leif, silently watching the two of them talk. The moth had gotten quieter since the swamps, too.

“You’ve been all… all- I don’t know! You just haven’t been yourself and there’s no reason for it, Kabbu!”

“We agree with Vi. You’ve had a big change in character.” Leif said, quiet but as direct as ever.

With both of them on his case, there wasn’t a lot that Kabbu could say. He didn’t want their sympathy, he didn’t want them worrying about him. How could he ever tell them that he didn’t know if he even wanted to be part of the team anymore? Well, he didn’t have to. And, well… he could always just leave out of nowhere. Not that he was thinking of doing that.

He waited until the lights of the dome dimmed- the termites were going to rest as well now. To his side, he heard Vi’s soft snoring, but had to sit to make sure Leif was asleep too. It was a good thing he was, or else this would get awkward and stressful fast. 

There was nothing he chose to bring along. Except for the explorer badge that he and Vi got on their first day as an official team. It’d be only Vi now, but she had Leif. They’d be like every other team- a party of two, instead of their devious three. And that was it- he was never the item carrier; the bag with all of their things always went to Vi, where she’d protect their belongings as valiantly as she could. So the badge was just another thing that she’d keep.

Well, that was basically it now. Bringing along nothing with his person, Kabbu slipped out of the room in silence. He took the elevator back down to the ground floor, leaving for the great doors that had welcomed him into the dome just yesterday. The guards there of course asked him about his intentions and why he was leaving- alone especially- but he just coated his answer with a white lie.

“I’m only going to take the ant tunnel. It isn’t far from these gates.”

The two termites glanced at each other, their antennae twitching between one another like they were exchanging a telepathic message.

“Well,” one began, before letting out a sigh; “alright, but just go to that tunnel, alright? We don’t need any of those Farland beasts coming through. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do; don’t you worry.” 

The other guard worked the mechanism that opened the gate. Not all the way, only just enough to let Kabbu step through. When he entered the foggy abyss of the Forsaken Lands, the gate clanked shut behind him not long after. He nearly disappeared into the pressing grey surrounding him, so much so that he could barely even see the two termites standing watch outside their kingdom. That was certainly a good thing for him, at least.

He wasn’t going to the tunnels. What he needed was time to himself. Figure out what he was going to do now. Because leaving the team was sort of a big deal, even if he’d been considering it for a while. 

In theory he could join something like the bandits, or stake off for himself somewhere out in the wilds. No, the bandit idea wouldn’t work- they’d recognize him, even if that Astotheles character gave them heed about his defeat to Team Snakemouth before his disappearance. And while he could just live off in nowhere, that wasn’t the life he wanted to live now.

What he wanted was to make a big change. Something that’d get the attention of everyone. With the Wasp King being under high pursuits and being a bigger threat, he could get away with many more things. But what? What was there that he could do? He just wanted to break something, really. He wanted to do something to take out the way he felt so crushed about everything that happened in the swampy grasslands. Let everyone know what The Beast did to him.

By doing the same thing to everyone else. 

He looked down at his carapace in the deep fog, turning over his arms to look at all of the scratches that would remain on him either until he died, or until his next molt. But he was an aged man- he hadn’t molted in forever; not since he was much younger. These scars might as well be permanent, then. All of these would bear witness to whatever he decided on doing.

Oh, did he know it was wrong. He hated himself for it. Hurting innocent bugs was still something he didn’t want to do from the bottom of his heart. It wasn’t that he felt that it was all he could do though, but it was the thing he wanted to do most. He was scared. Both of the possibility of his actions, himself, and if he’d be caught. 

Fear. 

It was what he was going to make everyone else feel.

The same suffocating, horrible, gut-wrenching fear he once felt.

If he couldn’t bring himself to be the grand hero that everyone held Team Snakemouth up to be, then he simply wouldn’t. He was no team leader, he was no Green Ranger. He was Kabbu, damned.

If he was so sure of this course of action, he’d become someone like who he was once fighting against. 

The wasps were the enemy, or perhaps once were. He’d start there. Keep the pretense of doing good.

Those troopers wouldn’t know what hit them, or any of the other damned… things he’d sparred with. 

Oh, no. He wasn’t going to stop there. He just needed a gateway. Surely he wouldn’t feel bad about hurting a few of those folk. He’d work his way up; he just needed a way to get his initial anger out is all. It just so happened that a certain kingdom worked in his favor as a target.

He’d go from revered to hated, to where bugs would fear to speak his name for the things he’d done. Where exterminating a few wasps would first be looked up upon by other kingdoms, when the numbers began stacking higher and higher concerns would rise. Nobody would know it was him, not for a very, very long time.

From hero, to anti-hero, to villain.

He’d be a bad guy if it meant he didn’t have to live in guilt and sorrow for his own past. 

Only he mattered to himself now, and he was going to make sure that nobody got in his way or tried to change this path he was choosing. 

He walked further in the fog, until all he could make out of his surroundings were the cracks in the rock beneath his feet. This would be a long path for himself. 

Many countless nights full of himself hating himself, nights where he thought this was the best idea he’d ever had. Nights where he cried, where he laughed to himself. Going from his past self to whatever he’d be called was nothing easy.

But time passed. Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. He was only a fraction of his former self. Down the line he’d forgotten most of what inspired him to go on this outburst, but there was no turning back now. He’d abandoned his humanity just a month ago- these past thirty days were the easiest he’d had in what felt like years. 

And there was no telltale signs about Leif or Vi ever since he left. He’d heard of the talk when he first left; he entered towns from time to time cloaked in leaves and scraps of fabric bugs left about, shielding himself from observant eyes. People wondered what could’ve possibly happened.

They weren’t finding out any time soon.

At least, not from him. He was a little busy with… other things.

Which reminded him, as he sat alone in a small pub off the center of Defiant Root. The bar was a common ground for other bugs in shady business, so Kabbu fit right in. Ironic. But that was besides the point.

He didn’t like calling his craft murder. Nor assassination, or anything like that. But terms meant nothing when anyone else would know what it was called. What he was doing was never anything he’d thought he’d be able to do, but as it turned out, dealing with crippling survivor’s guilt and other feelings for so long made you numbed out to such things like death.

There was no joy out of it, but he didn’t do it just to do it. There was still the motive of fearmongering. He just didn’t know how far he’d take it.

Well, he’d find out in a week.

Because on his marks right now was a certain general. That’d surely get people to talk.

[docholligay]

Doc Loves His Dark Materials

If I were going to regret anything about HDM, it would be that I wasn’t in high school until I read it. If I read it when I was a child, I would have been full-tilt obsessed with it. It was precisely the sort of thing I was always looking for and could never find. 

There are a great many YA books that delve into the realm of fantasy, but few of them that inhabit such a fully realized world. Lyra’s world, as it is set up, immediately takes you in, and it manages to almost have an air of urban fantasy, a world that is clearly different from ours, but not so different that it requires a lot of jargon or that it becomes difficult to understand. It is our world, but only off a few clicks. 

Daemons are my favorite “personality sorter” of any of the YA books that have them, which is many, because everyone loves to put themselves into boxes while claiming labels are stifling. I also rarely see much discussion about daemons, and I assume this because it’s much more difficult than one’s Hogwarts house or anything like that. Your daemon’s form is intrinsically tied to who you are at your core, and Pullman is utterly unconcerned with overexplaining how they work, and how they are chosen for you, outside of that. 

Lyra Belacqua is a fantastic main character in that she has true flaws which are immediately apparent to the reader. It is not that she is plain, and put upon by life, she is not some brooding orphan looking to find herself. She is spoilt, and impetuous, and willfully ignores all the privileges of her life. She is a willful and skilled liar, and there’s a great deal about Lyra that’s not particularly likeable at all, and yet for all that, she feels more fully realized. She is a girl who must come into herself. 

And all of this, of course, ties back into the fact that Pullman does not treat his young readers as if they were incapable of handling deeper themes and ideas, or that they can’t read. The narration is often lyrical in quality, the title of the series is cribbed directly from Paradise Lost, and from time to time the book itself quotes poetry. It believes that young readers are capable of higher things. The concepts of grey morality, of desperation, of sacrifice. His Dark Materials is not afraid to question the very wisdom and usefulness of God. 

To this end, as I referenced above, Pullman does not feel the need to drill things down to the exact point. It’s actually a lot closer to adult books in this way, that it expects that young readers are also capable of drawing their own conclusions and coming to their own ends. Every time I thought it was going to put too fine a point on something, it would stop, right there. 

That is not to say it’s a perfect series, as nothing in life is perfect, and occasionally I roll my eyes at Pullman’s preachiness, but it’s few and far between. Most of the series is a deeply textured, complicated children’s series about maturity, heaven, the difficulties of one’s parents, and also there are witches. 

Spoilery below the cut

This is one of my favorite YA series of all time, and might be my favorite if we break it into age groups, being as A Series of Unfortunate Events is clearly meant for a much younger audience. Northern Lights/The Golden Compass (spicy take! The Golden Compass is a better title than the original! It fits with the pattern of The Subtle Knife and the Amber Spyglass, and also with the overarching Series Title of His Dark Materials. Why are you booing me, I’m right.) 

I think all YA series want to make their characters’ flaws into eventual strengths, but I don’t think any (that i’ve read) do it quite so well. Lyra’s stubbornness and lying, storytelling, save her ass more than once in a way that doesn’t seem coerced or cheap. I love that eventually she learns how to be less of a liar, and more of a storyteller. That her life can be as interesting as the falsehoods she used to tell, it feels very much like my own experience of becoming and adult and discovering that I had plenty of interesting things to say without telling a lie. 

Lee Scoresby is my favorite character of all of them, and I adore him, and his arc is so good, so entrenched with that classic Western sense of just wanting not to be involved, and being unable to stop yourself from getting involved. I was, of course, sad when he died, but there was literally no more fitting end for Lee than what ended up happening, that sense of sacrifice and willingness to die for the sort of idea that a person can hold, that utter loyalty. I still haven’t watched the HBO version partially because I’m not sure I can fucking handle him being played by Lin Manuel Fucking Miranda. Who also played ~the cockney lamplighter~ in the new Mary Poppins because I’m not allowed to enjoy anything. 

People are often surprised that I love HDM because it’s intensely anti-religion, and indeed, there are a handful of times that Pullman’s edgy atheist act annoys me. But in fairness, it’s MOSTLY not my religion taking the punishment, in that Pullman, like most Culturally Christian Athiests, assumes all “abrahamic” religions are the same, despite all three of them (or four, if you count protestant as its own thing) being vastly fucking different in approach and belief. So, really, I don’t get hit that much. But also rather than JUST being like “RELIGION MAKES YOU NAUGHTY” which is about as deep as it goes in The Golden Compass, it ends up taking the tack that God is nothing but a powerless old man who WANTS to die, who is being held up only by those who wish to bring war and strife. What a concept! Amazing! Not where I expected it to go at all. 

Also the fucking courage to show dissolving into the world as being preferable to some form of eternal life? FUCK ME. I was so absolutely struck by that, as a religious person who, probably 70% of the time, really can’t deal with the concept of an afterlife. It seems so overwhelming to me. I thought the whole thing was done beautifully. 

And its not as if he doesn’t punish both the religious and not alike--despite everything, Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel both end up hurling through the abyss because neither of them could every really move from their positions. In bringing down the Voice of God, they also must destroy themselves, built around this idea of upholding god and destroying god in equal measure, they cannot stand without him. I mean shit! You’re not gonna see that in Harry Fucking Potter, which built up the necessity of a hero’s sacrifice only to pull it out of the ass. 

The way that Lyra’s parents are both villain and hero, at turns, and how you come around to be like, ‘Wow, you are both assholes” even though they are on opposite sides, is remarkable. How many times how you read YA and it’s been like “oh my long lost and/or dead parent is wonderful!! How I love/miss them!!”? HDM does not fuck around with parents. Lyra’s parents are enemies and completely corrupt weirdos, Will’s mother needs him to take care of her in a way that is NOT made cute, and his father just fucking fucks off and dies the minute Will meets him. It’s a thing I didn’t realize I saw so little of in YA until I saw it here. 

I completely expected, braced for, and readied myself for Will and Lyra to end up together, and I was so fucking pleased that they don’t. It’s refreshing to be proven wrong, to have an author not decide that the boy and girl need to get together at the end of it. And it’s remarkably low drama.

[englass]

Ichor - Bliss

Warning(s): Terrible title. Bit of angst; low mood.

A/N(s): This has been sitting in my documents for ages. Finally decided to actually post the thing.

——————————————————

The Bliss. You have heard many things about it, how it opens your mind and frees you from the troubles of a harsh reality. How it is nothing but an elaborate lie developed in makeshift labs to force compliancy, and how high exposure can rot the brain into something only really pictured in the medium of horror.

Already you have been subjected to its wicked workings, once being shot as if an animal needed under anaesthetic and the other was once you had woken up, under a polluted bulwark of water that coated your vision in a perverted pixie dust. You had not known it at the time, never having experienced the hallucinogenic agent until that point, but it was enough of a taste to know that whatever the substance was it was beyond bad news for you.

It’s why you made it a conscious effort to stay well clear of the stuff. The moment it’s name was even uttered you’d tense, body aching at the sheer memory of what it could and has very well done to you. You’ve seen the effect it has on others, seen their distant gazes and heard their murmured prayers. It actually looks quite peaceful from what you’ve seen.

Too bad it’s effect on you is nothing short of hell-inducing.

You have an assumption as to why that is, why the Bliss instills an itching paranoia and an all-to-real terror and physicality to your languid companion, but you’d rather not dwell. Sadly, despite where you’ve looked and who you have spoken too, you lack the means to potentially aid your crumbling situation. Although you suspect the items you search for may only bring about a different sort of effect; something less fear inducing, but just as equally terrifying.

You give a heavy sigh, fingers brushing through your hair, as already you are regretting your decision to journey into the land of nightmare fuel. Just why the Sheriff had decided to set up base in the heart of such a hell zone was absolute madness to you. True, you understood the reasoning for it - it was well defendable, much like a modern fort - but that didn’t mean you appreciated it just as the others did. All you could think about was the long drive back to the borders and into less, although arguably more, dangerous territory.

It’s pretty safe to say though that you’d rather face off against the war-torn werewolf and inhuman incubus with a brother complex than deal with this scheming siren.

Regrettably though you’re in a bit of a bind; too nice for your own good some would say. You’d be somewhat inclined to agree with them too. You just can’t bring yourself to say ‘no’ to people. Not that they give you the opportunity to say anything else mind you. In fact you’re actually starting to wonder if you even have a voice anymore; it hardly gets used nowadays - what with you being shoved from task to tedious task without so much as a tea break.

Thinking about it the only ones who even know what you sound like (other than distant family and friends) are either being tortured, conditioned, drugged up or are just too busy to have something even remotely related to a normal conversation with you. Then again...

You straighten up, head tilted toward the concrete heavens as the chair squeals at the casual shift in weight.

There is one other person that knows what you sound like, but you’re actually not too sure if she’s even still alive at this point. Although you’re certain she is, considering she sold you all out quicker than a swindler can swindle ice from an Eskimo.

Nancy. Fucking Nancy. In all honesty though you can’t say you’re actually angry with the women. Sure, you’re hurt and more than a little disappointed in her, but you don’t have the strength for something as draining as anger. It’s too much stress. Besides, if you want your ever-loving companion to stay weak and well away from you then you’re going to need to stay as calm as you possibly can. You don’t need it looking for an early supper; you’re still recovering from the last bite it took.

It’s getting stronger, you think idly, rolling your aching wrist with an answering snapping sound, much like the popping of bubble wrap; only this isn’t fun. With an anxious gaze, lip worried between your teeth, you trace the faintest of blotches, an irritated red that lingers under the skin, on the back of your hand and just kissing the start of your arm.

Physically it does nothing to you, no itching or tingling sensation to be felt, but mentally it has the warning bells ringing a harrowed toll. You know from years of experience that the moment you start to have marks, red like a flush with no heat or a rash with no bite, that it’s rearing it’s head; gearing up for a new attempt at dominance.

Thankfully it’s not around, skulking off to wherever it goes once you got yourself through the doors of the prison, taking a jab of that anti-Bliss stuff without a second thought. It stung as an injection does, heads turned worryingly in your direction at your hurried form and brash action, but it relieved the paranoia; banished the fear, even if only for a little while.

Really you should be honest and tell Whitehorse what’s wrong, let him know that the Bliss has had a truly nasty effect on you and that you can’t - don’t want to stay because of it. You can’t be of help. You’re sure he’d understand. He knows about your condition, so you’re sure he would. He has to. Wouldn’t he?

You suddenly feel hollow, as though every other emotion and feeling inside of you is being emptied like a full glass turned on it’s head. All that’s left is an empty space. Echoes of feelings and emotions tap on the glass, vying for your attention, but they are merely dull sounds that carry no weight to them.

Any anger that you once held like a tempered weapon now lacks drive or enthusiasm in its swing, your sadness now cold and still like a frozen lake without the warm comfort of tears. Your mood has taken a sudden dive and for a moment you wonder if it’s okay for you to drown yourself in it. It’s not like anyone really cares anyway.

You’re just ‘Rook’; a poster-child for the resistance, the one that got away, a piece to be played and sacrificed. That’s all you are, and it breaks your heart to know - despite how much you may deny it you know - that that’s all you are now. That is what you have been reduced too.

With a sharp inhale your hand comes to fall across your face, shielding you away from the hectic world outside as your eyes start to sting.

You jump at the feeling of something against your leg, a heavy pressure that nudges purposefully against you. You don’t have to remove your hand from over your eyes to know what it is.

It feels warm against your leg, a thick dampness that seeps into the material of your pants and onto the skin of your leg. Your stomach squirms at the contact, a nervous reaction that is gradually eased as It remains against you, unmoving and unthreatening.

Slowly you look down, suspecting to maybe see It’s foreboding gaze cast up in warning to your anxious form or It’s maw pulled into a mocking smile that is filled with menacing razors, but that is not what you see. The sight before you is not a common one.

It’s head is bowed forward, long ears pulled back submissively, as It presses into the bone of your leg with a pressure that comes across more reassuring than anything else.

You don’t even realise your free hand has placed itself on the back of It’s exposed neck, fingers and palm painted a bitter obsidian, until It leans into the contact. Such a small and innocent gesture suddenly turns the monster of your waking dreams into a lost puppy seeking an affectionate touch. Absently your fingers trace invisible lines into It’s swampy form, soothingly rubbing back and forth into the ichor of It’s hide.

As if in response It’s head mirrors your fingers movements, nuzzling into your leg with a distorted purr that isn’t there. Your hand and leg ache at It’s touch. However, even when the lights in It’s dark sockets come to life, white and as luminescent as the stars in the night sky, looking up at you with a steady aura, you don’t pull away from It. Instead, you meet It’s endless stare.

Sadly you smile at It, watching as It’s head tilts lazily at you in a silent question. You know It doesn’t truly mean to hurt you, only wanting to protect you in It’s own misguided and painful way, yet right now you can’t bring yourself to care. Your hand tingles as though on the cusp of cramping up, yet still you continue to stroke through the black of It’s liquid-like body.

It does nothing but watch, lights unblinking and still like a focused predator stalking it’s prey. Strangely enough though it doesn’t feel as if you’re being hunted, or even watched in a sick and knowing anticipation as is normally the case. There is a softness in It’s gesture, a comfort in It’s harmful warmth, and a reassurance in It’s abyssal sockets.

And, oddly enough, as though It’s nonexistent eyes speak words that can’t be heard, you realise something quite profound; a thought that holds more weight on your heavy shoulders than is already there.

Right, you think with the slow dawn of a sorrowfully tight smile, it’s just the two us, isn’t it? Till death... and maybe longer still.

[microkumo]

You know I’ve seen a lot of people try to frame Shiro and Keith’s relationship in a bad light. I think it’s about time I put my two cents into this. Season 7 Spoilers included

If you’re just going to ignore everything written here then don’t bother commenting, that goes for people who have the reading comprehension of a walnut as well. If you want to talk about my stance on anything here feel free to DM me I’m happy to discuss this with you regardless of what you ship.

I spend a lot of time reading both sides of the arguments shippers and antis make. I think that’s the best way to really understand the point of view each side is coming from. After all, you can’t argue against something you don’t understand.

I started off on the fence, not really caring too much about ships themselves, but focusing more on the what-ifs and the mystery behind character relationships. Some of these things leaned towards Klance and some of them leaned towards Sheith. Both are valid and had interesting hints at connections yet to unfold. However, the discourse started with not knowing the ages of the characters. Shiro was given a tentative “25″ nothing really cemented and the others were late teens which can mean anything between 17-19. I decided that until we had confirmed ages, I wouldn’t consider Shiro to be in a romantic relationship with any of the paladins but things have changed since then.

Moving on to the series and the misinformation people are spreading.

1) Unless you are ignoring Shiro’s relationship with Adam and shipping pre-Kerberos Shiro and Keith in a sexual manner, Sheith is not pedophilia. 

I’ve seen a lot of this kind of argument against their relationship and it honestly does such a disservice to Shiro’s character. I’m sure there’s some people out there who are into that kind of thing, but to tack it onto the whole fandom and character is over generalizing and pretty awful.

Sure, people can think Keith could have had a crush on Shiro, but its clear that Shiro’s intentions were not there. He was in a committed relationship with someone else that he knew for a long time but that further cements the fact that Shiro was not viewing Keith sexually pre-Kerberos and therefor had zero pedophilic intentions.

2) Cherry-picking scenes where Keith hasn’t hit his growth spurt to frame Shiro as someone significantly older and then further imply that people are shipping them sexually at this age is a huge fallacy people use.

In the Garrison flashbacks from S7, Keith is around fifteen. I base that on the fact that he’s one year older than Lance and Hunk, and yet you have to be at least 14 to be a part of the Garrison. This is backed up by Pidge’s backstory.

However, though Keith is older than some of the other kids, he’s extremely small. Almost half a foot shorter than the other boys in his class. He’s grown up in an orphanage and like it or not, that kind of thing does affect children. Even as an adult and twenty-one years old, Keith is still much shorter than both of his parents. He’s much shorter than Krolia, and his dad was even taller than her. He’s incredibly small, but he’s always been small, and comparing him to someone that has finished all of his growth spurts is unfair and again implying that Shiro (22) saw him sexually at this time which is not true.

3) Highlighting his age gap with Shiro as bad when Keith’s age gap is not that severe.

Keith was (18) at the start of the show with a 7 year difference between him and Shiro (25).

Keith aged faster than the rest of the paladins due to his time in the Quantum Abyss.

After all the events and adding that bit, that puts Keith at (21) and Shiro at (26) which is not a huge age gap at all when you’re both mature adults.

4) Shiro does not have a boyfriend/fiance waiting for him back on Earth.

Saying that really ignores the single scene of them interacting together which was a break-up scene. I’m not saying that the two have zero chance of reconciling their relationship, but to say that there’s no way Shiro would date Keith as an adult because he had an old flame back on Earth is... transparent.

The two ended their relationship on a bad note over two years ago during a crucial moment in Shiro’s life. He knew Kerberos was probably his last chance to make his mark on the world- he’s battled with his illness and now he’s aware that he has very little time left to achieve the things he’s wanted in life. For him, this was an opportunity he didn’t want to sacrifice, and he didn’t in the end.

Adam’s reaction was reasonable- he was tired of Shiro running himself into the ground over living the safer alternative where they could have been together longer. It was implied that they had this conversation often and Shiro did not want to hear it. He offered an ultimatum, and when Shiro didn’t give into it, he left. Officially breaking off the relationship when Shiro didn’t stop him.

I’m not saying their relationship was the worst- but there was definitely some areas that they didn’t agree on which ultimately led to them breaking up. Even if Shiro returns to Earth, he’s in a much different state than he was when they were together. It would take a huge discussion and even then I don’t think it would work between them because they have different priorities in life that result in conflict in their relationship.

5) Shiro being Keith’s support in life is not “grooming” or even supporting it.

Again, this goes back to people trying to make Shiro’s relationship with Keith sexual even if it was never meant to be in pre-kerberos while also horribly abusing terminology again.

Sexual Grooming is what it sounds like. It’s about teaching a child through various techniques that it’s normal to have a sexual relationship with an adult. Pedophiles will often use being a ‘friendly helper’ to the child as a way to do this but to frame Shiro in this light is a huge disservice to his character.

Shiro does not see Keith in any sexual way pre-kerberos. Keith relies on him as someone who he trusts, but in no way is it ever implied that there were sexual intentions behind Shiro’s presence in his life. 

Unless Shiro was making passes at Keith or teaching him questionable things under the guise of being his mentor, this is just not accurate and a horrible way to paint the relationship of a child that has already gone through boy’s homes (which have a high rate for sexual abuse as it is).

6) People need to stop equating Keith’s fourteen year old self with his current twenty-one year old self when bringing up the power imbalance.

A lot of time has passed for Keith. He’s matured a lot, he’s grown passed needing Shiro as his support in his life, a lot of his insecurities in general are behind him especially with his mother in his life.

Yes, Shiro was higher ranking and older than Keith at the Garrison, however Shiro never abused his power to force Keith to do anything. His presence was always supportive and never demanding or threatening.

In the current timeline of the show, saying this especially does not make sense. Keith and Shiro have a mutual trust and respect for each other and never do they ever have a relationship that’s painted as a leader and a lowly subordinate that has no power in any situation. Keith and Shiro have traded leadership positions multiple times and arguably stand on equal grounds compared to each other.

7) Keith and Shiro are not related. Not by blood or by law. It’s not incest and Shiro never adopted Keith into his family.

The staff of Voltron have shot down the two of them being related multiple times but even from outside of that we have a lot to consider.

Shiro was only (21) when he met Keith. That’s not very old, like it or not, and adoption is a very long and difficult process. Now we don’t know how adoption works in the Voltron universe but if its anything like ours, an unmarried and terminally ill man is not going to be able to adopt a child when he himself is young and unrelated to the child.

What Shiro did do is give Keith an opportunity to attend the Galaxy Garrison under his recommendation. This isn’t the same as adoption. He merely got Keith a chance to attend a school he normally wouldn’t have been able to given that he was an orphan and a problem child.

It’s a military school with dorms. Keith definitely wasn’t staying with Shiro, he would have had his own room to share with someone of similar ranking.

8) “Keith only thinks of Shiro as an older brother” ignores his personality and history.

I’m not against Keith only viewing Shiro in a platonic light. However, I think it’s rather naive to think that because you view someone in a certain light that they’re not subject to changing or evolving. I see a lot of people use this to stagnate the relationship they have and to ignore his character.

Keith is a very passionate person. However, he’s a person that hasn’t had many opportunities to love or to be loved. He has grown up not knowing why his mother left him and that not only made him fear getting close to people, but also getting rejected. His biggest fear is Shiro walking out of his life. as expressed in the Blade of Marmora episode.

For someone that’s never loved before, to know that you could be rejected if you voice your true feelings is extremely terrifying. Tack on the fact that you know the person you love might still have feelings for someone else and there is definitely going to be some safety nets involved when expressing your feelings.

This is common for people to do in general but especially so for LGBT+ individuals. There’s a lot of confusion, a lot of hesitation, a lot of trying to convince yourself that this isn’t what you think it is especially when its your first time falling in love with someone who’s romantically unavailable. We hide it behind things like “You’re my best friend of course I love you” or sometimes even “You’re like a brother to me”. Keith has every reason to add these safety nets when he’s worried about damaging his relationship with Shiro. After all, why potentially push away Shiro and make him uncomfortable, when he can play it safe and continue to have him in his life?

9) Shiro’s and Keith’s relationship is far from abusive.

They have one of the longest lasting and uplifting relationships in the series. Shiro provides stability and companionship to Keith, and Keith provides reassurance and companionship. 

They support each other in ways that other people cannot and have not provided to them and are stronger because of it.

Shiro was held on a pedestal of expectations where he’s not usually able to be treated like the average person. He feels he has to hide his weaknesses, but with Keith he doesn’t have to. We’ve seen multiple times that they’re able to rely on each other and to open up about insecurities.

They are loyal to each other and unwilling to leave the other behind no matter the cost, because they’re incredibly important to each other. However, despite this, they’re still protective over other people and not overly reliant on just each other. 

They have a good relationship built on years of trust and support.

10) “I had a bad experience and so this ship is terrible” is extremely biased and not helping your argument.

Shiro and Keith  ≠ Your relationship/Experiences

It’s fine to not like the ship for that, but to spread misinformation because you tie it to your own experience is... not a good way to go about it. To say “I met a person who shipped Sheith and they were awful so now everyone who ships it is awful” is overgeneralizing a huge margin for the one or two bad people, especially when the fandom has a problem with people purposefully posing as “Bad Shippers” for the sake of making the fandom look bad. 

Again, it’s fine to not ship something out of personal experience. But to force your trauma onto a healthy relationship and to spread negativity around something that isn’t even present in the show is unhealthy and prevents you from moving on.

In short, there’s been a lot of biases thrown around and a lot of just completely incorrect statements for the sake of tearing down the ship.

I hope that by reading this people will learn that it’s not what people are framing it to be when it’s actually such a sweet story if it does go down a romantic path.