#this is the level of pettiness I used to see in voltron fandom

[goatyuuji]

I feel good today let’s see what is going on in the satosugu ao3 ta-

[lord-radish]

There should be a name for the period of time between Harry Potter and 50 Shades of Gray where people went absolutely buttfuck coo-coo banana pants over popular books.

Harry Potter was like a pop-cultural drama nuke that took fandom drama over the edge, became a target of the waning Satanic Panic and ignited tensions between fandoms and evangelical Christians that opportunistic trolls took full advantage of.

Twilight was so widely mocked and reviled, and the young teen girl fans deemed so stupid and hostile, that entire websites sprung up to essentially lie about them doing and saying horrible/embarrassing things to further demonise them and make fun of people for liking Twilight.

50 Shades of Gray was 50 Shades of Gray. That being said, this is where we began to see comments like "anyone who acts in the 50 Shades movie is enabling and normalising abuse, and is therefore complicit with abuse at best or guilty of abuse at worst", and this is probably where the divide between fandom and hatedom was at its most visible and vitriolic. This is where the petty fandom squabbling of Harry Potter and the sneering dismissiveness of Twilight fandom arguably took on the political "culture war" slant that we see so much of today.

I feel like since then, the amount of buttfuck insanity seen in book fandom has wound down and seeped into fandom at the macro level. Look at Voltron for example, most people have chilled and moved on but the degree of vitriol about that show was positively nuclear at its peak of popularity. Steven Universe was smeared by some as nazi apologism and eugenicist, and its creators have been labelled white supremacists and neo-nazis by some because of it.

It's reminiscent of that collective fandom shitshow that rose to prominence with Harry Potter and coasted the literature scene until the decline of 50 Shades of Gray. That period of time has echoes in fandom drama of today, because imo that degree of discourse was mainstreamed by the fan reaction to those franchises. I think that period of time had a tangible effect on the world around us.

[cuchufletapl]

Me: Hey, let's take a look at the Voltron tag, see if there's anything new.

Voltron tag: *is flooded with people talking shit about VLD, saying that The Dragon Prince is so much better and they're switching fandoms*

Me:

[ebhenah]

 Gloriously Weird

#Fictober19 Prompt: 5. I might just kiss you.

Fandom: Voltron

Pairing: Older, Married Keith/Lance; background Krolia/Kolivan; background Allura/Romelle; background OC/OC

Rating: T (language, no warnings apply)

Wordcount: 2015

Tags: domestic fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, klance kids, klance raising teenagers, rocky horror picture show references, Keith has a younger brother, flashback sequence, smitten hubbies, brief mention of medical support device

Read on AO3 Part of the Future Klance Family Fics Series

 “So... uhhh... who are you supposed to be?” Lance asked, knocking the fridge door closed with his hip. His brother-in-law stopped fiddling with his hair and shot him an incredulous look, “you can’t tell?”

“I have my theories... but I didn’t think the kids would be able to convince you to take part in the whole ‘group costume’ thing they’ve got going on this year. Did they?”

“I love my niece and nephews, Lance,” Yorak growled, tugging at his jacket uncomfortably.

There it was. The growl. He had no idea why the kid insisted on doing it, but every. single. time. they were in the same room, Yory ended up growling at him. Despite assurances to the contrary, Lance was sure the kid couldn’t stand him, but whatever. Lance had known him since birth and he was family, so little Yorak Gayth of the plentiful growls could just deal with the fact that Keith’s husband loved him, even when he was a little shit.

“So... that’s a yes,” Lance fought the urge to smirk. It was a decent costume, especially considering that the Galra had no equivalent to Halloween for Keith’s brother to draw on. “Did you pick this one, or was it assigned to you by a certain girl with big, blinky eyes and the ability to make her uncles cave in ten seconds flat?”

“I didn’t really care what costume I got,” shrugging, Yory glanced through the door and up the stairs to where the others were still getting ready. “Everyone else did.”

There wasn’t a strong resemblance between Keith and Yorak, mostly due to the fact that Keith looked human and Yorak, being full-blooded Galra... didn’t. Krolia’s son with Kolivan was probably going to end up being a huge guy, but he was currently just shy of his eighteenth birthday and was even more slight than Keith had been at that age. At the moment, he was wearing a tailcoat tux over a false hump. His coloring and markings matched his father’s pretty closely, but the eyes... those were his mother’s, and so was the sharp chin and comparatively delicate ears. (Oddly, this particular combination of bone structure and coloring made Yorak look a lot like Axca, and he was often confused for her sibling or child.) 

Even now, Lance couldn’t see Yorak in profile without having the memory of the first time Keith had gotten to hold him flood him. 

Keith had been a wreck. 

The whole pregnancy had been difficult for him, but the few hours between the announcement of the arrival of a healthy son and Keith getting to see the reality of it for himself were... a whole new level of stress. They’d already been en route to the station that was serving as a temporary home to Lance’s in-laws with Thace in tow. Galra babies were tinier than Lance expected. Yorak had been barely five pounds and was seen as being an unusually robust newborn. 

After greeting an exhausted but happy Krolia, Lance had hung back and given Keith some space to adjust to the shift in his family. He’d been nervous and skittish and kept glancing to Lance and Thace like they were a touchstone... and in a way, maybe they were. Maybe they reminded him that even if his worst fears panned out, he wouldn’t be alone again. No matter how enthralled Krolia became with the son she didn’t have to leave behind, Keith had a husband who loved him, a son that adored him, and a family in Voltron that had been forged in battle and peace and he would never, ever be isolated again.

Yorak had been sleeping, nestled against Kolivan’s chest, a blanket draped over the tiny boy. When he’d woken, Kolivan had quietly, confidently handed him to a very surprised and nervous Keith with the soft command to ‘meet your brother’ and Lance had gotten to watch his husband fall in love with a sibling he’d only been able to see as a threat until that very moment. 

Just like he had when Thace had been born and placed in his arms, Keith melted. His breath had escaped him in a soft coo, one fingertip tracing the line of the baby’s brow and the shell of that tiny, softly fuzzed, pointed ear. Yorak had rooted around like he was hungry and Keith had offered a knuckle for him to gnaw on. “Hey,” Keith had whispered, “I’m your big brother..”

Yory wasn’t often around, due to the nomadic nature of life for the remaining Blade members, but when he was, he spent as much time with the kids as he did with Keith- their relationship closer to that of cousins than uncle and niblings because they were all around the same age. This time around, that meant the Galran youth was getting to join them at the Halloween Dance that the school was throwing. The twins and Talia’s boyfriend had each listed one of the non-students in the group as their official guest, which meant that Yory, who had never been enrolled in the Atlas school system and Thace and his girlfriend Juanita, who’d graduated in the spring, could attend.

“The costume looks great,” Lance reassured him, his attention returning tot he present moment. “Have you even seen the movie?”

Yorak nodded, “it was... odd. But I liked the music!”

Lance chuckled, “yeah, Rocky Horror is kind of gloriously weird. Ahh! There they are!”

Rai was the first one to descend the stairs and his costume actually managed to leave his Papi speechless. Rai was the quiet one! He didn’t like being the center of attention! When the kids had told Lance of their plans, he never, ever, ever would have figured that sixteen year old Rai would be the one to dress as Frankie! Granted- it was the most modest of the Frankie costume options: old-fashioned surgical garb, long pink rubber gloves, clunky heels, pearls, and a full wig and make-up combo- but, still! “You look great!” he gushed, because it was the truth. They’d even gone so far as to splatter him with some fake blood and arm him with a plastic pickaxe. 

“Thanks, Papi! Oh, hey, Yory!” Rai punched his uncle lightly in the shoulder by way of greeting, “you look awesome! Tonight is going to be a blast.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Yory answered, relaxing a little.

The girls were next- Talia as Magenta and Juanita as Columbia, also both in the more modest costume choices from the surgical scene, with white aprons and paper masks over the maid outfit and tap shorts. They were closely trailed by Thace, dressed as Eddie. With his skin powered and painted to be corpse-pale, his brown hair darkened to black courtesy of Halloween hairspray, and the combination of the leather jacket with the slight snarl he looked eerily like Keith had at his age and Lance had to take a moment... because... “Quiznak, you are all so grown up! How did that happen? Keith! Come see the kids before they go!!”

“We can’t go anywhere just yet,” Talia pointed out, fussing with her costume so the compact oxygen tank strapped to her leg was better hidden. “Bailey is meeting up with us here!”

“Besides,” grinned Juanita, “I’m sure you are going to want to get pictures of us, Mr. McClain!”

“See? You get me, Juanita!” He answered, “it’s why you are my favorite.”

“Your favorite? How many girlfriends has Thace had??” she laughed, but Thace was glaring daggers at him.

“Just you, mijita,” he answered easily, “proving how smart my boy is.”

“You’re the only one allowed to call him ‘Mr. McClain’, too,” Keith pointed out, appearing behind Lance without warning and slipping his arms around him.

Lance squawked, reaching down automatically to pet the massive space wolf, “did you seriously just Kosmo-poof out here from the next room? That seems excessive!”

“That’s only because it was so confusing with me calling you both ‘Mr. Kogane’ and I wouldn’t use his first name!” “My first name is still a valid option. You can always call me Lance. You know that.”

“I could never!” she protested, “my Mami would throw chanclas! She’d know!”

Keith shook his head. He didn’t really understand, but Lance did, and that was all that really mattered.Dropping a little kiss to the curve of Lance’s neck he turned his attention back to the kids, “okay... we’ve got... Eddie and Columbia, Magenta and Riff Raff, and... of course... Frankie. So, we are missing... who are we missing?”

“Brad and Janet,” Lance pointed out, “the supposed leads.”

“That’s gonna be Bailey’s friend Silas and his girlfriend Elodie,” Talia answered eagerly. “They’re doing the wedding outfits and she showed me pics and they are gonna look soooo adorable!”

“We don’t have a Dr. Scott,” Rai pointed out, just as the door buzzer went off and Talia pushed past him to answer it. “But a few of the kids from class are going to be revelers.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a good bunch of kids working together,” Keith chuckled. “You should get the good camera, Tumbleweed... you’ve got to get your requisite four hundred pictures, and we don’t want to hold them up!”

“Do you remember my mother’s reaction to the lack of pictures from Thace’s first Christmas?” Lance muttered, reluctantly stepping out of the ring of his husband’s arms, “because I remember and I have no interest in repeating that whole mess!”

By the time he returned with the camera, the group was complete. “Bailey,” he said evenly, smiling at the boy and faltering a little. Seriously, what was he supposed to say to the teenager dressed in gold booty shorts and a liberal dusting of body glitter? Any compliment he could come up with would be seriously creepy for him to say to his daughter’s boyfriend. “You... make a great Rocky.” That wasn’t too bad, right? 

“Everyone looks great,” Keith agreed. Lance fought the urge to glare at him for taking the easy way out and lumping all the kids together, because it was petty to punish his husband for thinking of something that Lance hadn’t and Lance was better than that, dammit.

Familiar with the routine by now, all the kids squished together in the frame and smiled as he snapped picture after picture of them until Keith declared them done. They did a quick run through of the rules (which Lance was sure that Yory would find some way to circumvent, as per usual) and Keith double checked that they all had sufficient spending money for snacks at the bake sale table.

“Have fun,” he said as he closed the door behind them. 

Keith glanced at the clock on the wall, “so... it’s six now- when does the dance wrap up?”

“Eleven,” he replied, automatically moving to sort the tangle of shoes  that was taking over the entrance.

“So, five hours, plus an hour of milling around and dawdling at the various quarters on their way back here.”

“Mmhmmm... want to put on a movie for us to watch with Kashi and Lucas?”

“They aren’t here,” Keith grinned at him. “I sent them off for sleepovers! Kashi is with Pidge, and Lucas is keeping Romelle and Alban company while Allura and Coran are on New Altea- she promised to make pie. I’ve never seen that kid pack so fast!”

“When did you do that?”

“While you were catching up with my brother. Kosmo dropped them off. Sooo,” he tugged Lance into his arms, ignoring the soccer cleat in his free hand, “we’ve got the evening to ourselves, Tumbleweed. What do you think of that?”

“I think,” he answered, looping his arms around Keith’s neck and smiling into that handsome face, “I might just kiss you.”

“You might?”

“Oh no... you heard that wrong, babe. I am definitely gonna kiss you. I might just kiss you... but I’ll probably do a lot more than that... you know... if you’re interested.”

"I love you," Keith laughed, eyes dancing, "of course I'm interested."

"Good... and I love you, too."

[tiltedplanet]

I was expecting more from the final season of Voltron

[This should go without saying, but DO NOT personally harass or threaten the show creators over this.]

First, I just want to say that I’ve been a huge fan of the show for a while now. It was such an exceptional series filled with spectacular world-building, cool multi-dimensional characters, and beautiful animation. I have so much love for these characters and the show. Yeah, some recent creative decisions were kinda questionable, but I came into season 8 with high hopes ... and I was so disappointed.

“Season 8 was well-written.”

I disagree. Earlier seasons of Voltron were fantastic, but season 8? Not so much. It was difficult to follow, important subplots went entirely unresolved, and the climax was ... just frustrating and not believable? Not only that, but several major characters were written so wrong. Here are some examples if you don’t believe me:

Allura acted uncharacteristically dumb and impulsive this season? She unilaterally decided to use the rift entity to her advantage (without consulting with the other paladins AT ALL) and follow the path of darkness because “it’s the only way to defeat Honerva.” Since when tho?

Lance got almost no development and spent the whole season being Allura’s protective boyfriend. What happened to his razzle dazzle???

Shiro? The arm-wrestling sequence was cool, but other than that we barely saw the human side of him this season. It felt like he only existed to be the leader of the Atlas and I wanted so much more for him.

Lotor got so much backstory this season. We saw how fucked up his childhood was, and how hard he tried to be good, but then guess what? He was dead, DEAD, and we got to see his fried corpse like in what universe is that remotely okay

Why didn’t we see Shiro and Keith interact at all this season? What happened to their close and supportive relationship from s1-7?

Why was Axca at the grave, and what was going on with her and Keith? Heavy foreshadowing, never explained.

There was a lot of backstory with Honerva and her family that should have been established in previous seasons. It felt so rushed and was difficult to keep track of the timeline.

WHY didn’t they just use the cosmic wolf to teleport someone into the cockpit of Honerva’s robeasts and take out the pilots? It would have been so much easier lol

Why did Lance get the Altean marks?

WHY DID THEY KILL ALLURA (more on that later)

There were some great moments (like the delightful Clear Day celebrations), but overall s8 was a mess.

“You’re just mad because your ships didn’t happen.” / “Fuck your ships. This show is about war, not romance.”

I’ve seen a lot of people saying this, and I have to point out a couple of things. This show IS about war, but it’s also been about LOVE from the very beginning: friendly love, family love, sibling love, and yes, romantic love! In season 8, we saw a strong emphasis on the romantic relationship btwn Lance and Allura. Unfortunately, the way their relationship was handled kinda ruined the season for me. (Full disclosure, I ship K/L but this has absolutely nothing to do with that.)

In my opinion, Allur/ance felt rushed and the relationship was so one-sided. Lance kept saying “I love you.” Allura didn’t. Lance worried about her safety to the point where his well-being was clearly affected (look how sad and stressed he seems throughout the season!) Allura never took the initiative to comfort and reassure him, it was always the other way around. I could have loved Allur/ance if they did it right, but it just made me real uncomfortable. And then ... why would they let Lance win Allura’s heart only to lose her forever?

“You should be happy that you got the LGBT representation you wanted.”

Okay, I actually went back and watched the Shiro wedding scene twice because I thought it was so cute and romantic! And yes, it was LGBT rep that we rarely get to see. At the same time, the creators had ample time to show a relationship developing between Shiro and his (unnamed) future husband, but they didn’t. They never once interacted on a personal level. You CANNOT convince me they would’ve pulled that shit with a heterosexual pairing. In the end, it’s disappointing because it feels like an afterthought, not a serious attempt at representation.

“The fandom was so toxic, you deserved to get your hopes and dreams crushed.”

Yes, I’ve actually seen people say this! I find it really hurtful, to be honest. I know that some “fans” were spreading hate online, but most of us were just here trying to enjoy the show. I’m here because I love Voltron! And I just ... I refuse to believe that the creators would be so petty as to deliberately sabotage their own show because of some hateful fans. So I’m left wondering where things went wrong.

“The ending was great.”

The ending absolutely destroyed me. I was expecting a high-stakes season (the paladins were headed for their final battle to save the universe, after all) but I wasn’t ready to watch teenage Princess Allura DIE before my eyes. The paladins were supposed to return triumphant. Instead they lost the heart of the team and the future of Altea. I will never understand why the creators chose to kill this beloved character minutes before the end of the last season. It was unnecessary and cruel to fans of the show. It was cruel to Coran, who didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye to the princess he had sworn to protect. It was cruel to Lance, who’s heavily implied to be hung up on his first love for the rest of his life.

It’s never easy to part with a favorite show, which is why I was hoping for Voltron to end on the highest note possible. Instead, it left me in tears. It left so many fans disappointed and heartbroken. So yeah. Is it any wonder that people are expressing their frustration?

Voltron has been such an important part of my life, and I was expecting more.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Hey just so you know your art is really shitty. I am talking about the one you did about book hiccup.

Oh you sweet, sweet summer chiiiiild!!!

I was drawing “shit” like this when I was sixteen - ten years ago! Ten years ago, and I could draw like this!

So why would I care what someone thinks of a small, five minute, no-erase doodle of mine? ^.^ 

Honestly, I’m in the middle of an artistic euphoria phase right now. Like, I’m legit having so much fun with visual arts - more than I have for years - and I’m delighted. Thank you so much for giving me the chance to talk about this latest exciting experience in my life! Maybe this’ll inspire some others as well? Art has been a highlight of the last few months, and even getting going on the topic now, chatting with you, is getting me happy and inspired and ready to tear out the next sheet of paper for a new bout of creativity. I’m trying my best not to start drawing NOW because of the topic you’ve brought up!

I’m working on proportions and muscle groups and more dynamic poses and figuring out digital art and testing new traditional art mediums and it’s just been a BLAST of creativity and exploration. I’m trying to figure out new styles for myself, branching WAY beyond my childhood focus of photorealism, into everything down to anime-style personalities. I’ve even checked out 3D modeling, dudes! I’m planning on exploring with cityscapes and character design and shape and color and... guys... guys... it’s literally such an exciting time for me right now. 

Art is AMAZING fun!!! What a blessing it is to create something wholly new, with the stamp of our personality, out of complete nothingness? I turned the nothingness of a piece of paper into my personality and a work of creativity. DUDE THAT IS SO AWESOME!!! Humans are so amazing in our ability to endlessly create. I think creating is one of the greatest powers and blessings our species has to offer.

Being a visual artist by hobby isn’t about improving. It isn’t even about being good. It’s about having fun. My wonderful dragon-loving friends, don’t for a second think that your artwork needs to be to some sort of quality, because it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. If you want to improve, that’s awesome, and I’m rooting for you to have some exciting experiences of self-discovery and growth. That can be an exciting time, to go through growth, and it’s well-worth your commendable, diligent efforts. But it’s also 100% fair if you go into a hobby without desiring to improve. You don’t need to improve - you’re not in some competition where your rent’s pay hinges on drawing - you just need to enjoy yourself. There is nothing shameful about “shitty” art - it’s in fact one of the coolest things you can do, because it engages your mind and your creativity and your own unique stamp of human beauty that no other soul can give. And if you share it, you’re sharing a part of yourself, and we get to see the beautiful treasure you and your mind are!

Some of my favorite things I’ve ever seen are stick people. DRAW your stick people! Do it all!!!

I’m so thankful for everyone who shares their art on tumblr in the fandom community. Not just the people who do polished digital work, but everyone. People who are starting to figure out what a tablet is. People who haven’t touched a colored pencil in ten years. People who draw five minute scratches. People who spend thirty-seven hours on a painting. You contribute to the world of fandom, the beautiful world of fandom. Together we celebrate what it is we mutually love about our fandoms, and make this a community in which creativity and celebration and positivity is resplendent. It’s because of people like you - ALL of you - that you build this incredible environment.

I’m in the middle of a phase where I think I’m going to be making rapid advances in my artwork soon. Maybe if there’s something really cool I’ll share it with ya’ll! There’s a 50% chance I might be getting a new art tablet soon, which will unfetter all the struggles I’ve had with digital art preventing me from improving there. And there’s so many ideas I have! Guys, there’s so many ideas! So much art to put down and explore and hgghghghhhh! I’m excited.

Of course this is all on top of my other hobbies. I love being a jack of all trades and master of none. Every day’s something new to explore. I’m a conlanger and I make my own languages. I’m a creative writer and I’m planning on charging deep into a single original novel that I hope I can publish. I’m a chronic worldbuilder who loves thinking about everything from the geographic history of the world to the culture’s technology to what the cities look like to the individual culture’s elements - be it gestures, taboo language, courting rituals, what have you! I’m a music composer and I even got a Bachelor’s of Music in Composition; I’ve learned how to play over a dozen instruments; I’m itching to make covers and suites of material I love. I used to make gifs and I still miss it - maybe I’ll get back into the swing of it sometime? I made one AMV and maybe I’ll make another - I’ve always loved video editing (I did Lego stop motion stuff in the junior high, after all). And of course I want to keep writing fandom meta for all the stories that have touched my heart, be it Fullmetal Alchemist or How to Train Your Dragon or Voltron: Legendary Defender or Mass Effect or anything else. I’m hoping that I’ll get some good bursts of activity on cosplay, too! I need to work on my sewing - 2019 shall be the perfect year for it, don’t you think?

Life’s so exciting and rich and beautiful. There’s so much creativity to be had. So much to do. So much to explore.

And who gives a flipping rat’s fart if I’m not The Best(TM) of the universe? XD That’s not the true reason to create ANYTHING!

I’ve got a fuckton of weaknesses in my artistic pursuits and that doesn’t make me an ounce less awesome. Having weaknesses makes my artistic life BETTER. I honestly believe it; they make me happy. I’m excited that I have weaknesses in my visual arts abilities because it means I’m going through this period of growth. Where would be my fun if I were perfect already? I’m having a blast not because my art is perfect, but because it’s IMPERFECT. I both like what I can do already and I know ALL the areas where it needs improving - allowing me new areas to dive further and reach new goals. It’s giving me life goals, trajectory, and celebrations every time I draw something new and better than what I made last month. 

A childish, petty, and honestly rather uncreative insult isn’t going to make me blink. I know how amazing I am. I’m a powerhouse, powerfully creative, Renaissance man level talented bonfire who can do everything from advanced level linguistic scientific study to composing contemporary classical art music. I know what my strengths are and what my weaknesses are. I’ve got great weaknesses, and that’s totally chill!

I’m sorry, friend, but the only thing your message does is show how much of a naive child you are. You ignorantly think that a laughably uninteresting, child-level insult is going to affect an adult who is confident and grown in themselves. You don’t know your audience. Even if you were right that my art is shit - which it’s not - it doesn’t matter to me. My identity is more than one cute doodle with Hiccup and Toothless. It’s a shame because I’m sure you have so much positive beauty you could contribute to this world. Why waste your time with this, when it literally could not be more of a waste of your time?

What positive creativity have you done?

I encourage us all to contribute to the beauty of our community. Let’s take this moment to be an inspiration point. Let’s create together. Let’s give people reasons to smile. Let’s share posts we love and talk about why we love them. Let’s draw and write and sing and dance our way through what we love. Let’s give positive feedback on the fanfiction people wrote for us for free. Let’s send compliments to one another - that’s a legitimate form of creation and it’s one of the best. Let’s let our personalities sparkle. Kindness is so awesome. You all are so awesome.

I’m so thankful to live in a community like this, where every day I’m bombarded with incredible magic - the magic you all have created.

As for my Hiccup drawing, the HTTYD book community has a cool event going on celebrating the Twelve Days of Doomsday. I encourage you all to participate and enjoy Cressida Cowell’s works with me!!!

Who knows? Maybe I’ll have time for a few more Hiccup doodles in the next dozen days!

[silverineontherun]

Top Ten VLD Ships Game

Oh god, I was tagged by @paternaltendencies and I also saw my good friend @kunfetti do this list and I’m not gonna lie, I’m afraid my list is so painfully childish that you could barely guess we are all the same age... thank you for putting up with my fangirl ass and constant shitposting! You guys are the best! Haha. Anyways, here we go! (Only the top 3 get a gif)

1. KLANCE

*Insert oprah gif here*. I mean, does anyone who knows me even doubt it? Lol. We’ve had our ups and downs with this ship, but still they are my favs. It’s because of them I even started writing and honestly? It kinda changed my life? So they are the eternal champions of my heart <3 (also KICK ‘cause I don’t know when to give up). I don’t even have to add this, but the content is neverending and tbh, this ship is so full of talented people it’s INSANE. The impact still shocks me. And since I don’t interact with the core fandom, for me it’s always been like taking a stroll lol.

2. SHATT

This is easily a tie in the first place, after all they are my preferred combo. Listen to me, kiddos. This ship? Is precious. Y’all sleeping on it. I’m glad Matt has had 2 glow ups ‘cause every time, we’ve seen new people join and that’s GOOD. The content is precious. All my mutuals came exclusively from THIS ship, they are the chillest group of people I’ve ever seen and the quality of the fics is INSANE. Give it a try, and since I’m trying to convert you check these authors: Kunfetti, paternaltendencies, Eilera, luddleston, Martieek and some works from BossToaster. Also shatt sunday? A reason to live through the week. This is a pairing with history, cute af, infinite potential (and the last 5 minutes of s7 can suck it lol).

3. LOTURA

Have you ever shipped something that comes true and then is shattered to pieces the very same episode? No? Well we lotura stans have, and we deserve some respect! I knew 2 things from the very moment this purple goblin appeared: 1. I was adopting him, 2. He would sweet talk my Allura sooner or later, because they are in the same level and totally can balance each other. Together? We all owe them money. Also, lost heirs with gorgeous hair finding their place in this universe? Guess it was too good to be true. I had hope for a better outcome tho. One that didn't include genocide, for example. Still, I have faith in s8 👀 (again, I'm don't know when to give up). All I ask is... no more awkward close ups on kisses, please vld crew. That shit scarred me, and I’m a stan.

4. KEITOR

“Tf you on, woman?” you ask in a terrified voice, pointing at me with your finger. I bring my pan and pot and smash them together to scream: THEY HAD A LOT IN COMMON. THEY DESERVED A MOMENT OR TWO. THEY ARE A TOTAL POWER COUPLE. But!!! Then they didn't cross a word and we had to retort to fics. Ty, vld. Still, good art and good fics and the fandom is quiet and the right amount of fucked up. Love them. Also a good part of my love for this ship I owe it to my good friend @conisaura who is an AU genius. Tenía que decirlo, bai.

5. ADASHI

I truly wish this one didn’t grow up so much on me, but hey! It could be worse!... wait, no, it couldn’t. It’s a great ship, I’m just weak to happy Shiro? Too bad the vld crew ain’t on that lol. Well, let’s be real, we know their relationship was hard and had already hit the bottom, but even if they weren’t meant to be a couple again, Adam’s treatment was awful. In the end, this ship stays in this place out of pure spite, ‘cause I’m THAT petty. And the art is truly gorgeous. You guys are gods, creating paradise out of nothing.

6. SHANCE

Tbh, this is the only sha**din pairing I can dig. And I dig it. Shiro deserves love, that's out of question. Lance does too. And I'm weak to pretty dorks, which... both of them are. I think it's a gorgeous pair, full of chemistry and badass, they totally would complement each other and I'm sure Shiro would let go of a lot of his issues with someone like Lance. Now that the paladins are older in canon, honestly my irks regardins this ship are all gone. Go for it guys!

7. CORALFOR/ALFORAN

Listen, old Coran loved that dork king and I totally ship them. Even he ships themselves (?).  And I love Coran a lot, so in the pathetic distribution of unnecessary couples last season, I wish they had the delicacy of giving some love to our fav Altean pan, at least. But nope. SO... COME TO ME, GORGEOUS MAN <3. (You wish I was kidding, right? I am not).

8. HEITH

I could probably fill this list with only all Hunky ships, he is just... Perfect. The perfect bf to anyone (where do I find a Hunk for me?). But to Keith? A match made on heaven, I mean, they are literally all the other needs in this life. After s7? Suspicions totally confirmed. I just... Love Hunk. And Keef. This is a good ship. Wish there was more content tho, especially sfw (the Hunk thirst is real here in tambler).

9. ALLURANCE

So low? You salty? Nope, I ain't. Not at this ship, at least. I love Allura dearly and I've always acknowledged Lance's crush on her (please, who wouldn't have a crush on her?). If I did this before last season tho, it would probably have been in adashi’s place, but right now I'm kinda... Eh. Unfair to judge based on canon, but I can't help it... Still, it stays in my list! If they give us good, wholesome allurance next season, I'm gonna be fine. That drawing bit at the end of s7, for example? That’s good. That’s what I want to see.

10. HUNELLE

Sorry Shay, honey, but you weren't there for too many seasons and s7 gave me sassy, tired power couple which is far more attractive to me than cinnamon roll couple :(. Still... I don't trust this Romelle lady, so I'm glad Hunky is smarter than me to choose partners lolol.

BONUS: KINCLAIN

This one is my newest ship and is pure crack, but I just know it’s gonna climb like a friggin spider on this list, I can see it!!! Ryan Kinkade, the tough, silent mfe pilot, smiling because he can't resist Lance's charm?? Hello guys??? Pure af. I may or may not be writing something right now...

PS: I’m just aware of the lack of wlw in this list. I’m kinda baffled? But I’m pretty sure this is due to the fact I don’t ship Pidge with anyone AND the general lack of good interactions between the ladies in this show. I can’t even ship ezor and zethrid without remembering they KILLED THEM. TY VLD CREW??????

So I’m gonna just tag a fellow voltron stan who I guess I always scare with my random interactions (sorry honey I’m awkward af, no pressure to do this), @gayromanticsubplots and anyone who wants to do this, feel free to tag me so I can see! <3

[dragimal]

thoughts on Voltron s7

this is prolly old hat by now, but I still wanna throw my two cents to the wind. this is gonna get very rambly, and I’m gonna derail A LOT to air out other grievances I have w/ the show/fandom. a rant like this has been a long time coming-- the reception to s7 only pushed me to write this now. so beware, I guess. also I’m not rly tryin to Start Shit, so I’m slottin’ this under the cut

I think I should start at the beginning: I didn’t like Voltron for the first 3 seasons.

it was perfectly passable, but not.... exactly the kinda thrilling saga Tumblr made it out to be. all the hype put me under the impression that VLD was a deeply emotional/character-driven story much like ATLA-- I was sorely disappointed to find this wasn’t the case. instead, I found a typical space-mecha plot populated by pretty tropey characters-- certainly not bad, but not all that emotionally gripping either 

I actually grew p bitter over Voltron’s particular brand of popularity-- mainly the comparisons to ATLA, as if VLD was anywhere as deep and clever. I wasn’t mad that it was popular so much as it seemed popular for the wrong reasons

now I’m not saying that enjoying VLD is “childish” or whatever, I’m just saying that comparing VLD to ATLA is p damn insulting, imo. ATLA has a level of depth in plot, worldbuilding, themes, character arcs/interactions, etc. that’s incredibly impressive-- esp for a kid’s show. u just don’t get that depth from VLD-- and honestly, that’s just fine! I know I’m singing ATLA’s praises to the heavens here, but I’m also kinda sick of Tumblr trying to compare every damn thing to ATLA, as if every piece of media HAS to be another ATLA to be worthy of praise (like the whole “Zuko redemption arc” thing has been taken wayyyyy too far when critiquing villains...)

ATLA and VLD aren’t trying to accomplish the same things, so it’s kinda shitty to place those kinda expectations on the creators of VLD when they’re trying to do their own thing? like, I don’t expect Osomatsu-san-- a very stupid show I deeply adore-- to be the next FMA just b/c both shows have a focus on brotherly bonds; they’re clearly two separate things that I can enjoy for different reasons

anyways, to cut that ramble short, VLD just wasn’t my thing when I first started it. I’m not big on mechas, and I typically prefer pointed storylines over ‘adventure-of-the-week’ setups. not that VLD doesn’t have some underlying plot for the first couple seasons, but it takes a while to get past random villain fights and/or adventures every ep and condense it into a continuous plot thread. some ppl like that kinda thing, I just don’t. the reason I continued to watch it-- despite my misgivings-- is b/c I like watching things with friends. my bf has always liked VLD and wanted me to see it, so I enjoyed watching it with our audience of two

I’m glad this setup forced me to continue watching, or else I would have never reached the turning point-- episode 33 (s3): “The Legend Begins”

this was the point at which my feelings switched from “eh” to “oh... OH. OH SHIT.” I’d finally started to get INVESTED. I finally began to develop real attachments to the characters! I was finally eager to learn what happened next; finally perched at the edge of my seat in anticipation! VLD had finally found its footing and solidified its unique voice, and I couldn’t have been more proud!

yet, what did I hear from the fandom as this narrative transition began?

“the show has gone downhill, and it’s only getting worse!″, "[x] characters aren’t developing anymore” and/or “the showrunners HATE [x] character!”, etc. etc.

though I suppose it’s a bit simplistic to say the fandom as a whole thought this way; in reality, just a vocal subset of the fandom thought-- and continues to think-- this way

yes, patient reader, this is one of those conversations. because we really can’t have a proper fandom discussion anymore w/o getting into those topics, can we? god, if only

so I’ll stop beating around the bush: antis fucking hate the new seasons, mainly because:

1) a lot of antis love Lance for some reason? antis don’t like the fact that Lance isn’t, like, the entire damn focus of the show (calls for “black paladin Lance” galore....), so they don’t like the fact that other main characters play significant roles in the show. this has devolved into unfounded critique of Lance’s character development in the last few seasons, when in reality Lance has gotten SIGNIFICANT development from s4 onward (just like most every other character..). he’s gotten more confidant in his abilities and is less defensive of his character, he’s more cooperative w/ his teammates, and he’s learned to (usually) recognize when a situation requires a serious approach rather than nonchalance. like, as someone who doesn’t much like Lance, I think it says something that my feelings have advanced from, “jesus I can’t stand this guy, can he shut up for one goddamn second,” to, “nice, Lance is mostly bearable and sometimes charming, now.” this point bleeds into the next point--

2) a lot of antis LOVE klance-- or the ship Keith/Lance, for any random readers that don’t know the Voltron fandom. klantis-- as these particular antis have been dubbed-- hate ANY semblance of connection either of these characters have w/ other characters, b/c it threatens klance. Keith and Lance both canonically have strong connections to other specific characters (Keith to Shiro, and Lance to Allura), so these ships are the most threatening to klance

now, all stans/shippers have fans that are a bit too defensive, sure. I’m not saying that sheiths (Shiro/Keith shippers) or any other stans/shippers in VLD aren’t ever at fault. but antis always ALWAYS bring an insidious dimension to fandom wank in the form of-- for lack of a better term-- “social justice posturing”

I’m not claiming that discussions abt representation and sj issues in fandom aren’t important, but antis always take these sensitive issues and simply use them as ammo in what are typically giant ship wars. there’s no nuance, no room for different interpretations-- only black/white divisions of what is “valid”/”canon”/”acceptable”, which are then strategically warped in favor of what the antis of that particular fandom favor (which, in the case of VLD, is Lance/klance)

of course, not ALL VLD antis are specifically out to discredit just one ship, as evidenced by the proliferation anti-shaladins (those against shippers of Shiro w/ ANY of the paladins). BUT this is exactly where anti tactics are utilized in full-force, and where this petty ship war further devolves:

antis fucking HATE Shiro.

Shiro poses the biggest threat to klance (at least in terms of fandom, b/c Allura canonically poses a much bigger threat tbh), thus antis have steadily built a “case” against Shiro not only as a bad partner to Keith, but as a bad character in general. the more “reasonable” antis claim things like, “Shiro’s too mentally ‘broken’ to be with anyone!” “Shiro’s too old to be with anyone, he’s practically a grandpa!” and, “Shiro’s too much of a parental/guardian figure to consider any paladins as potential partners,” while more extreme antis have claimed that Shiro literally IS a pedophile, or straight-up dangerous due to his mental hang-ups

there is clearly a lot wrong here both canon-wise (Shiro has shown 0% confirmable attraction to any character in canon; everyone’s actual ages are vague at best, thus there are no exact age gaps to measure, etc.) and in terms of plain ethics (callin a guy w/ ptsd “too broken” fuckin WHAT). but this is what antis have devolved to-- dismissing Shiro’s mutual connections to his fellow paladins at best, then accusing him of straight-up horrific shit at worst. all in the name of protecting a ship. boy howdy.

(*SIDENOTE* I hypothesize that Allura doesn’t get nearly the same level of hate b/c mlm ships are favored in fandom, thus there are more sheith shippers than allurance (Allura/Lance) shippers to oppose klance. she may also be protected by Tumblr’s over-the-top glamorizing of any and every female character, but that’s a rlyyyy weird discussion that’s hard to quickly/accurately dissect, so I’ll just leave that particular hypothesis to the side..)

anyways, patient reader, let us return this tangent back to the original point: the general criticisms directed at s4 and onward. how do antis relate to this?

well, it’s real fuckin convenient that ppl suddenly started recognizing VLD’s writing/plot/etc. flaws when the show wasn’t catering quite AS much to Lance, or Lance/Keith interactions. real fuckin convenient ppl suddenly started criticizing Shiro as a character when said character’s relationship w/ Keith began to gain more focus and development. real fuckin convenient that ppl are finally recognizing that VLD isn’t as great as ATLA, when the last few seasons have gotten PRETTY DAMN CLOSE to ATLA’s level of emotional depth

so I’m bitter abt Voltron again. but rather than being bitter abt VLD being popular for the wrong reasons, I’m bitter that VLD’s flaws are finally being recognized for the wrong fucking reasons

and this is where it gets real fucking dangerous, b/c antis are dangerously persuasive to the general fandom public

since antis use sj language as ammunition for petty-ass shit, they can easily gain the attention of... god, I hate that I have to unironically use this term, but Tumblr “normies”. I literally have no better, simple term to describe somebody on Tumblr who hasn’t watched VLD (or simply hasn’t engaged in the fandom in a significant way), so please just roll w/ me here, for my own sanity. so Tumblr normies-- as those on Tumblr are prone to-- are vigilant in keeping up w/ sj issues across the board. this is good! it’s good to be aware of and critical of the content we consume..... until it’s. not.

I’m not the first to say that Tumblr has a very warped, very dangerous approach to sj activism. much like full-on antis, there is so much black/white thinking, lack of nuance, swift and unforgiving retribution for even slightly differing opinions, etc etc. it’s why so many ppl on Tumblr even ARE antis, b/c it’s rly just the fandom-offshoot of this mentality

but even beyond the most extreme “activists” of tumblr, anti’s sj language is dangerously appealing to even the chill normies-- nobody WANTS to support dangerous relationships or bad representation, after all! so they latch onto that rhetoric too, b/c when normies see antis' (usually unfounded) criticisms thrown around, they don’t know the show/fandom well enough to be able to verify those criticisms. and like, I get the appeal of it-- I’ve def made similar mistakes w/ unfamiliar fandoms as well, b/c I want to support a cause that seems just. it’s p natural to want to align w/ what we perceive as a just cause, esp when convinced by a persuasive speaker

thus, antis have gained a significant following of normies due to the simple fact that Tumblr normies DO care abt sj issues, but they DON’T care enough to research the show themselves to see what’s what

so, let me quickly recap the stage I’ve set for you here:

1) the fandom in general has given Voltron more credit than is due, and has subsequently placed ridiculous expectations on it. this has given Tumblr normies a false impression of VLD and its standards

2) antis are SUPREMELY protective of klance (and Lance in general), and have thrown around WILD accusations at any ships that threaten it, leading to--

3) antis throwing Shiro under the bus time and fucking time again.

4) by abusing sj language/tactics, antis appeal to Tumblr normies’ sense of duty, thus gain their approval in ganging up on whatever antis deem unjust in VLD-- whether it’s actually valid or not

so fuckin forgive me for being a bit skeptical when I heard rumors of “bury your gays” in Voltron from antis/normies, when these same ppl are actively throwing around accusations of pedophilia in the name of goddamn shipping

but I’ll fully admit, I passed judgement on this criticism a bit too quick, considering I hadn’t even seen the new season yet. it’s never good to blindly accept opinions purely on the basis that they bolster ur own assumptions, and I’m not immune to that charming trap (tho thankfully I’m not typically a vocal member fandom, so I was mostly just nodding along w/ my fellow shieths asdfg)

so finally, dear reader, we reach the actual point of this post: after seeing s7 for myself, what even ARE my opinions on it?

well. the handling of Adam and his relationship to Shiro............... wasn’t great. it was pretty fuckin terrible, actually. despite all I’ve said against antis, I agree w/ their general view that Adam’s relationship w/ Shiro (and his subsequent death) was shoddy, underdeveloped, and disrespectful to some degree. I’m personally not sure it’s worth the title of “bury your gays” for several different reasons, but I wouldn’t fault someone for calling it that, b/c there are definitely several other reasons that reinforce that trope. it’s worth discussing, and definitely worth voicing criticisms towards, esp in terms of Dreamworks’ “lgbt rep” advertising before s7′s release (which was absolutely scummy, there’s just no other word for it)

so if I agree w/ antis’ basal complaints in this instance, then why the hell am I even talking abt this? why am I putting so much effort into dissecting the fandom, only to essentially reach the same conclusion as those I fundamentally disagree with?

well, I suppose it’s all abt the framing.

I’m not gonna link the post b/c, again, I Don’t Wanna Start Shit, but most of y’all have prolly seen that one post that breaks down the history of the “bury your gays” trope, and how it was possibly utilized in VLD. it’s a p good argument in that respect-- I think it hits the main points of how/why Adam and his relationship w/ Shiro was just plain Bad

and to the untrained “normie” eye, that’s all it is. however, there is a cryptic framing present that reinforces anti talking points, which only someone involved in the fandom would recognize. 

(*SIDENOTE* I don’t mean to pick on SPECIFICALLY this post, I just think it’s a nice rundown of a few of the main rhetorical tactics used by antis. it’s certainly not a unique post in the fandom, but merely a good example of this brand of posts)

for one, this post forces an emotional distance between Shiro and the paladins. this post INSISTS that Shiro can ONLY be interpreted as a guardian character that can’t relate to the other paladins in any significant way due to age gaps and traumatic experience. THUS, according to antis, Adam was the only person that Shiro could have intimately discussed his problems w/ b/c they’re the same age and have a history. Adam's death removed this potential confidante, thus leaving Shiro to sort out his issues alone

while I agree that it would have been nice to see Shiro chat w/ a new character he has a history with (esp considering we rly haven’t gotten much backstory on Shiro yet), so much of this argument is simply false

I’ve already mentioned the bullshit that is the vague age gaps, but even if we were to take them into account, there ARE characters who are assumedly at or over Shiro’s age: Coran and Allura. and yeah, Coran is prolly not the best choice in terms of real emotional connection, but Allura? she could prolly fuckin relate. Shiro’s had his body and autonomy violently violated by the Galra, to the point that his original body is now destroyed; Allura has had her culture and people violently violated by the Galra, to the point the her original planet/culture is now destroyed. Shiro is/was a leader to the paladins, and takes their collective failures to heart as his personal failures to his team; Allura is a literal princess to her people, and takes their downfall as a personal reflection of her lack of ability to protect them. their situations obviously shouldn’t be 1:1 conflated, but to say they have no points of relation here is fuckin insulting

but since age gaps like this mean JACK SHIT when it comes simply developing emotional connections and mutual respect, we don’t even need to go so far as to match ages! this is evidenced by actual intimate interactions Shiro has had with the paladins!

the first one that comes to mind even involves antis’ favorite-- Lance! episode 45 (s5): “The White Lion” involved a moment where Shiro approached Lance on his own and opened up abt his mental health, saying he, “didn’t feel like himself.” now it could be argued that this was Shiro’s clone-- not Actual Shiro-- approaching Lance for help. tho I firmly believe that are still true parts of Shiro present in his clone, even if he’s not fully there. the clone is still protective of his team (before his mind is COMPLETELY hijacked, of course), and I believe any connections/loyalty/trust Shiro has towards the paladins is still true for the clone (even if this can, once again, be forcibly overridden). this moment is Shiro-- the part of Actual Shiro that’s present in his clone-- approaching a fellow teammate for help. of course, Lance doesn’t know exactly what to do in this situation, but he at least stays w/ Shiro for support

and then of course there are all the great moments Shiro has w/ Keith that antis want to forget abt. moments where Keith has laid down his health and safety for Shiro, moments where Keith has barred his soul to Shiro, moments where Keith has done everything in his power to reach out to a hurt and struggling Shiro.  moments where Keith has made it ABUNDANTLY fucking clear that he’s here to the bitter end, that he’ll NEVER give up on Shiro. it literally doesn’t fucking matter if u interpret these scenes as platonic or romantic, b/c the fact of the matter is that Shiro and Keith care DEEPLY abt each other in some shape or form. disregarding that is forcibly ignorant. also, we've now confirmed that Keith and Shiro do have a HISTORY back at the Garrison together before all this Voltron nonsense started (even if it isn’t necessarily a romantic history), so Keith also has that leg up

the subtle framing of Shiro as STRICTLY a “guardian” character is also a classic anti tactic, as it implies a sort of pseudo-pedophilic undertone to any Shiro/paladin ships, which is just.... gross and dishonest. yes, he’s canonically a leader to the paladins, and oftentimes takes on a guardian-type role, but once again, he also canonically opens up to other paladins on a mutually respectful/intimate level. there’s nothing in canon that would strictly suggest he’s ONLY a guardian figure-- “space dad” is a fandom interpretation in the same way that framing him as Keith’s lover is a fandom interpretation. neither is more or less 'canon', and it's petty to suggest otherwise

another weird point in that post is the insistence that Shiro is a “tragic gay character”, which is just..... not fucking true, first of all. he’s definitely suffered the most out of any main character, I agree, but he’s GETTING THROUGH IT. he’s been pulled through it by the paladins, and he’s learning to use his own strength to pull through as well. he’s so incredibly fuckin strong and it’s a fuckin shame that ppl don’t see how inspirational he is to those that may be struggling emotionally. plus, he's never suffered BECAUSE he's gay, nor has he ever had a damn HINT of queer-coding until Adam was shoehorned in (which is its own separate problem w/ the show, but it's not a "tragic gay" problem)

but beyond all that is an even more subtle insistence that Shiro has always been a beloved character to ALL in the fandom. antis’ underlying implication that, “hey normies, Shiro-- our beloved Space Dad-- has been given the shit end of the stick, and u should be mad abt it too!” 

as if antis haven’t spent the last several years shitting on Shiro at every turn, saying he’s got “scrambled egg brains” b/c of his ptsd, and other horrific shit. the fact that they can turn around to “defend Shiro’s honor” now that he’s *confirmed queer* (and, initially, confirmed less of a threat to klance due to Adam) and STILL be taken seriously is goddamn terrifying 

like I am literally seeing posts like this-- IN 20FUCKIN18-- that normies are taking at face value and reinforcing:

to any normies reading this: SHIRO AND KEITH AREN'T FUCKING RELATED!! racist antis insist that they have to be related b/c they're both Asian and the second half of their last names (Shirogane and Kogane, respectively) are similar. I'm literally so baffled over how this tactic is ever taken seriously, but who fuckin knows I guess. and if antis are trying to make a case for adoptive siblings, Keith canonically met Shiro by at LEAST his early/mid teens-- LONGGGG past the developmental age of youth where he might latch onto another person as a strictly non-romanceable relative, so. No. fandom is free to interpret Keith and Shiro’s relationship as brotherly, but to say that that is the STRICT and true 'canon' interpretation of their relationship is, once again, fuckin petty and dishonest

just. how fuckin DARE antis act like they give a SINGLE goddamn shit abt Shiro’s emotional needs and trauma after pullin this shit. how fuckin DARE antis misuse real sj issues to appeal to the lowest common denominator in normies, looking for fodder to fuel the flames of hate

so, if I may be so bold as to utilize one of antis' many battlecrys: this discussion does not exist in a vacuum. Adam's shoehorned relationship w/ Shiro is shitty and worth criticism, absolutely. but brushing aside the fandom history driving the resulting uproar-- as if ship wars aren't HUGELY influencing this backlash-- is SUPREMELY fuckin ignorant

antis latched onto Adam HARD when he was first announced, despite all the signs he'd be a side character at best, that he was stated clearly to be Shiro's ex, and having no context for his personality. Adam was antis' newest shield to their ship-- somebody to take Shiro's romantic potential away from Keith, thus leaving Keith open to Lance. Adam's death eliminated that shield, leaving antis reeling-- they couldn't just jump right back into hating Shiro after having showered his newly-christened gay ass w/ praise for all of the Tumblr normies to see. so, their anger was tactically redirected towards Adam's development

there is nothing shocking abt any of this tbh. all antis is the same, and they're all bitter assholes that are completely willing to abuse real sj issues for their own goals. plain and simple.

I don't rly have a proper ending for this. I'll just say that I like s7 a helluva lot, and Adam’s shitty development doesn’t rly phase me? not everyone feels that way, which is valid, I just don’t particularly give a shit abt Adam. I have hope for s8-- esp in terms of potential development for Shiro. since Shiro got such heavy focus in s6, it makes sense that he was pushed to the sidelines a bit this season to leave room for the other characters (Keith, Lance, Commander Holt + Earth stuff in general, etc.) to develop and shine. I've heard rumors that Adam did in fact have more development that was cut, which I'm honestly willing to believe b/c the development we got felt cut short, rather than simply planned that sparsely in the first place. my hope is that s8 will return some focus to Shiro, and possibly slot in some of these cut scenes to bolster a better backstory to their relationship? pure speculation tho, and it doesn't rly excuse Adam's treatment in s7, but it's worth considering

before I completely end off here, I just want to go on one last FINAL tangent: I'm so damn disappointed that everyone is sleeping on kexa (Keith/Acxa)??? if anything it poses MUCH more canon threat to BOTH klance and sheith purely b/c it's 'safely hetero' and b/c the show itself has hinted at potential feelings there (“She’s always been sweet on that one with the flippity hair,” and “Oh look Acxa, it’s your favorite paladin~”). like I haven't seen antis OR sheiths even mention this, it's baffling. the fact that it'll prolly be canon is bittersweet for me: bitter b/c DAMN I love sheith, and sweet b/c damn.... I'm rly diggin kexa....

so the moral of this post is: blease appreciate Keith's beautiful goth gf, she deserves love

thank u and goodbye

[julz321]

The Vice of Positivity in Fandoms

(Warning Voltron Season 7 spoilers)

There’s not doubt that there is a lot of negativity in the world and we need more nice people in the world. However, depending on the situation, positivity can, in fact, do more damage than good in situations that does not call for it. Sure it can be useful to temper negativity, but again only when appropriate. And not all negativity is bad.

Optimism can indeed dilute you into thinking things are ok and nothing needs changing. While there are those people who worry over nothing, the way we determine if something is worth worrying about is dependent on how thoroughly and accurately you look at the details. Also a level of experience in social issues helps too. 

I can understand a fandom’s desire to keep things light and positive and avoid conflict, we all wanna just relax and enjoy our shared interests. Heck that’s why I enjoy conventions. However, pretending like nothing is wrong can allow disaster to hit when we least expect it. Many fandoms are oblivious to the fact that there are pedophiles or alt-right people in their midst and never question it, or reflexively label it as “drama” or ignorantly label everyone as equally in the wrong. This is very counter-productive and trying to plead for the moral high ground and tell people to do better is useless so long as they continue to pretend as if nothing is wrong. 

Enter Voltron’s controversial season 7. While, yes, Voltron fans can indeed be insufferable when their ships aren’t confirmed, it would be very counter-productive to lump them and show’s critics in the same boat. It’s like saying the people who criticized the Titans trailer as just as bad as the people who harassed the actors of the show.

(Minor spoilers for those who have not seen it but it’s been a week so I think we’re good)

For those who don’t know, the Voltron creative team revealed that one of their main characters, Shiro, to be gay and that they were going to tell this story in season 7. Long story short, this did not end up being the case. The dialogue between Adam and Shiro were too vague (parents had to explain to their kids that the two were in a relationship) to the point where you could mistaken them as just roommates, Adam was killed (so no hope exploring things there), and while Shiro looks upon the plack honoring Adam and the many others who died defending Earth all he has to say is “I’m sorry.” Not even an “I love you” and thus adding onto the vagueness of  Shiro and Adam’s relationship.  Many critics saw to this as a let down and many fans were rightfully upset. While this display isn’t as infuriating as the Lefu from the live action Beauty and the Beast movie, it is still infuriating none the less. The writers say they were all for LGBT representation but then failed to properly deliver and have received a hailstorm of criticism.  Sure, it may be “some” representation and it’s “better than nothing” but if it’s barely anything then you can’t all this “progress.” It’s like saying “I got a raise” and it’s wonderful, only to find out you only got 10 cents. 

Steven Universe is able to do better in terms of LGBT representation and yet their best couple is locked inside a fusion most of the time. Shiro being the LGBT version of Steve Rogers would have been a great step in the right direction, but the creators decided to keep it vague, which makes it very underwhelming at best and frustrating at worst. And all it would have take is clear confirmation, on screen, not by word of the creators, about Shiro’s relationship or sexual orientation. One “I love you” would have solved this, or at least tempered it.

This is just one out of many criticism with season 7, the gloomy tone, the stalling, among other writing flaws with the season. But needless to say, season 7 deserved it’s low rating.

Now how does this relate into positivity being a problem (even though season 7 could have used more positivity)? 

To those with experience in the Voltron fandom, shipping is a common practice just like in any fandom. However, sometimes these shippers can take it too far and proceed to harass the actors and creative team. However, while I will chastise geeks for engaging in such behavior and, I agree, harassing the creators is a problem, see the Star Wars fandom, it’s unwise to mix harassment with criticism. 

While bugging the crew about ships the fandom wanted so much is a very petty thing, pointing out very significant and legit problems with your show is something every creator is going to have to deal with. Criticism, especially legit and valid criticism, is in no way harassment. Sure not every show is gonna be perfect, however, that thought terminating platitude breeds complacency and creates the illusion that you don’t have to improve at all. If anything it cultivates more problems from right under your noses, such as ignorance. There is no shortage of fans who still believe Voltron season 7 was great and while they are within their right to like something, It’s infuriating when they try to stiffling something that would be more beneficial than just undeserved praise.

It’s clear that the common fan has no experience with writing or social issues, sometimes both. See the creator’s last project known as the Legend of Korra, where that show was considered “smart” for a kids show, however, had the teenager’s understanding of politics. But since the series “mentions” these issues and saw “parallels” to real world issues the common fan incorrectly comes to the conclusion that it must be good. Pretty much in the same vein as DC fans thinking dark and edgy means that is must be a work of art. A good writer, or someone well versed in LGBT issues would spot these problems, the vagueness and the wasted opportunity at real representation, almost immediately. But the common fan is so undiscerning that all they see is people arguing, but never consider why. I promise you, you’ll find no shortage of fans who are quick to try and sweep this type of “drama” under the rug, label critics as “insufferable” and are “forcing their opinions,” and rally people to “be better” while championing the quality of a show when little quality was even there. And those kind of actions lead people in fandom down the road of ignorance and stunts improvement. It warps how fandoms think by putting up a veil of false positivity or positivity that is unnecessary. 

And before someone tries to chime in with another thought terminating platitude, yes creators have every right to produce something how they want whenever they want and they don’t have to conform to people’s standards. However, in the same string of logic, everyone has the right to their opinion, even if it’s wrong, however people are still allowed to use that same freedom of speech to respond with criticism or a counter argument. And as creators working for a company and profess themselves to be professional, then listening to criticism is something you have to learn how to do and get used to in order to grow. Not listen to every criticism, since not every critic is a good one, but you’ll never find out what that sounds like unless you get out a pen and paper and start taking notes. Filter out the bad comments from the ones that are good and will help you. Like when someone says they haven’t watched your video and claim they know you’re wrong. 

And before someone says “oh but you’ll discourage them,” if Michael Bay can keep making terrible movies and still deal with harsh reviews, or even DC for that matter, then you have no excuse. Even Marvel writers are dealing with harassment from fans who don’t like the level of representation in their comics but those very same writers are committing to it despite the level of BS that gets thrown their way. Any creator who will be hurt by legit criticism will get hurt by any criticism that isn’t soft and simpering and if that is the case then you have no place being in a professional work environment.  Tone policing or applying positivity in a situation that does not need it and furthering geek culture to stay within its ignorant bubble of ignorance and  privilege is how you make matters worse the next time this comes around. No, amount of pleading to moral high ground or trying to “act like the better person” is not gonna make a problem go away. Understanding the details and listening to criticism is something that a moderately smart person should be capable of doing. Saying that critics who know what they’re talking about are just as bad as the fans who harass the creative team spits in the face of wisdom.  To summarize, being positive is ok when it’s needed, but putting it into a situation that does not call for it is you being one of those “nice people” who hate fighting, label every bit of conflict as drama, never quite understands why people are arguing, and is ultimately condescending while waxing poetic on a moral high ground about how fans criticizing a show is the same this as harassing them over ships. Criticism is needed in order for creators to grow and it takes a pro to understand the legit comments and the ones you can safely delete. LGBT representation is important so don’t say you’re all for it but then chicken out at the last minute when your competition can do even better. The only issue with criticism is not that it may sound harsh. but whether or not it’s correct and helps you to grow. 

P.S. I still love my gay space daddy as much as I love big pink, gay space rock mom. Although I’m very sure the people here just skimmed it and didn’t bother reading this article in detail. See how it hurts to be condescending? 

[sage-nebula]

fandom: pokemon, ship: keitor, character: hiccup!

Putting this under a cut because it’s long.

PokéAni:

Favorite character:

ALAN, as if that’s even a question. He’s the best boy. ♥

Least Favorite character:

Paul. Failing him, Damien.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Mmm, let’s see …

Ash/Misty

Jessie/James

May/Drew

Sycamore/Meyer

Either Dawn/Zoey or Grant/Viola

Character I find most attractive:

Cynthia, probably.

Character I would marry:

Cynthia again.

Character I would be best friends with:

ALAN. ♥

A random thought:

If they didn’t want to make movies about Ash as he is in Alola, they literally could have based the movies around characters that aren’t him instead, and yet they chose not to, smh.

An unpopular opinion:

Alan is the best character in the series, fully deserved to win the Kalos League, and Greninja is a waste of a pokémon.

My canon OTP:

There … aren’t really canon ones, generally, haha. But Ash/Misty, Jessie/James, and May/Drew are all arguably so.

Non-canon OTP:

See above.

Most badass character:

ALAN. Threw himself out of an aircraft to save Lizardon in the midst of a primal legendary fight. Also managed to run the mega evolution gauntlet and win, even though his final opponent was a member of the Elite Four. To date he is the only character to defeat a member of the Elite Four on screen (at least in terms of non-E4 / Champion characters). Additionally, he and Lizardon took on 50% Zygarde and won, and he’s the only one who was able to throw a wall up against Ash-Greninja. Badass. 

Pairing I am not a fan of:

There is no pairing in the whole of the PokéAni (outside of bestiality / incest ships) that I hate more than Alan/Manon. That ship is what NOTPs are made of for me.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

We don’t talk about Alan’s story after XYZ044 because none of the episodes after that happened. They also robbed Manon of any and all development and growth she coud have has a person and character by refusing to allow her to recognize, own up to, and learn from her mistakes and flaws (e.g. recognizing that she should have never sent Hari-san away in an unfamiliar location would make her a more responsible trainer; admitting that she’s afraid of battling and has been trying to use Alan as a crutch could provide the first step on an independence arc, etc), but you know, what’cha gonna do.

Favourite friendship:

Alan & Lizardon, Ash & Pikachu, and Alan & Ash are all right up there for me.

Keitor:

when or if I started shipping it:

After season four. I don’t remember the exact point, or why it happened; I just remember realizing that Lotor was in need of a co-pilot, and that he had saved Keith’s life, and that there were so many similarities between them, and it just … it was like an avalanche after that, and now I’m buried far, far beneath the snow.

my thoughts:

It’s honestly the best and most interesting ship and it’s a shame more people don’t appreciate or acknowledge that. It’s also incredibly annoying that so many people think they would be at each other’s throats if they met when canon has explicitly proven otherwise (5x04, “Kral Zera”), and incredibly, unbelievably, agonizingly boring that people want them to fight over Allura. If you want Allura reduced to a prize for two boys to fight over, go watch ‘80s Voltron. Keith, Lotor, and Allura as we know them in VLD are way too developed and good for any of that shallow, petty, trivial nonsense.

What makes me happy about them:

How perfect they are for each other. They can connect and understand each other on levels that they just don’t have with anyone else, and since they share many of the same pain points (parental abandonment and neglect, past abuse, part-galra heritage, a lack of undersatnding from their respective teams, and so on), that allows them to connect and help each other on those levels as well. They’re so similar, yet they have enough differences between them to both keep things interesting, as well as complement and balance each other out. They’re perfect.

What makes me sad about them:

THEY HAVEN’T HAD ONE FRIENDLY CONVERSATION IN CANON YET, AND AT THIS POINT I’M AFRAID THEY NEVER WILL.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

I don’t read VLD fanfic, generally, because as a general rule I don’t read fic for fandoms I write for. However, I’m still aware of the fact that there are fics out there that turn Lotor into an abusive rapist (why), turn Keith into a submissive victim (why), and otherwise depict the relationship as being full of hatred and abuse (w h y), and I can’t stand any of that nonsense. It’s out of character for both parties and completely disgusting. Give me healthy Keitor or give me death, tbh.

Things I look for in fanfic:

N/A, I don’t read VLD fic. But if I did, again, healthy Keitor or bust.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

I ship Keith with Allura, but I don’t really ship Lotor with anyone else, tbh. I can see why others would ship Lotor with certain other characters, but I just don’t. I don’t know why, they just don’t click for me.

My happily ever after for them:

They come together and form a revolution, acting as the change they want to see in the universe. They succeed in this, making life better for them and those like them, and end up getting engaged and married at a later date.

Hiccup:

How I feel about this character:

HE’S A GOOD BOY AND I LOVE HIM. He’s one of the characters I relate to most, honestly. I’ve got a lot in common with this snarky boy.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Astrid, and for the most part it’s just her.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

HICCUP & TOOTHLESS, OBVIOUSLY. They are literally, DreamWorks confirmed canonical platonic soulmates.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Uhhh, I don’t know that I have one? Idk what opinions are or are not popular in the fandom nowadays.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

Again, not sure I have an answer for this one. So far I’ve been pretty chill with how Hiccup’s story has gone. This may well change with the release of the third movie, though.

My OTP:

Hiccup/Astrid.

My OT3:

I wouldn’t be opposed to Hiccup/Astrid/Heather, or Hiccup/Astrid/Eret.

[fwips]

This may sound petty but I'm honestly tired of seeing every shance shipper cater to sheith and shklance and make shklance all about how special keith is. I'm tired. I just want shance. No shiro falling for keith because he forgot he was married to lance, no, loving both lance and keith equally bc tbh that's bullshit levels of hard even with parents and children and the way they writ either makes keith the favoured one. I'm so glad to see someone who actually liked shance purely for shance.

i can understand this frustration because the majority of shklance content is shieth bias, or has a focus on shiro and keith while lance is usually treated as an extra, or just a general tone of ‘everyone loves keith’. Not all of it is like this, but its usually the majority. 

People are very much entitled to multiship in whatever flavors they see fit, everyone has their bias characters after all. I love Lance best so im always going to have pairings that favor him or have him as the center of attention, and im sure a similar thing happens with people who stan keith and write shklance. The majority of the content is made with this bias because the majority of the Voltron fandom favors Keith, so it just ends up this way. This happens in fandoms all across the board ((like for one piece, try shipping zolu when the #1 slash ship is zosan and you cant fuckin stand sanji, shit is DIFFICULT to LIVE)).

i can say that definitely not every shance shipper does this, its more just keith stans that want to branch out into multishipping but still favor their boy. And as I personally do not like keith unless he’s paired with Hunk, ofc this is very frustrating when I see it in Shance. Hell just the other day i read the last chapter of a fic i LOVED and ended up wishing i had stopped, because there was sudden and very detailed sheith mentioned that wasn’t tagged for in any way so it caught me off guard and completely killed my shance content boner. That doesnt make the author any less of a shance fan, it just means that they multiship and maybe they forgot to tag for it or mention it when uploading that chapter. So I get it, and I’ve talked to my friends too about how this really is something that happens a lot, but I really do think it boils down to a clear bias for a person’s fave character or ship, who want to try a bolder pairing, but happen to still have that bias showing in their works. But again, I do this knowingly with Lance, so everyone has different levels of what they’re aware of when they create content they want. 

my general rule on OT3′s is this: if one of the characters involved can be replaced with a dildo, you do not have an OT3, that is just a threesome kink! which is fine! but bringing a third person into a pre-established and strong emotional relationship and mostly just using them for the sex -while finding them attractive- is not OT3

[justyouraverageshittyblogger]

New edit: Lmao y'all don’t know how to fucking read do you? Like all most of y'all do is play the victim card like some sad tragic anime character, pls. Like anti-shaladin people I literally DEFENDED y'all in MULTIPLE paragraphs here but here I am getting shit for making a few sarcastic jokes. I have one person calling me a minty apologist when I literally called them out on their bullshit (even though I made like a small joke on the infiltration which was taken seriously idk why y'all are so extra like this). I can’t even summon up the energy to type properly and not like some Fuckboy on drugs bc this is all so ridiculous. If y'all have so much problems with each other sort it out between yourselves or bring in a few close friends. Don’t be taking this shit to tumblr of all places (a well known shit talk website) and expect people not to react. (I’m looking at you Minty I mean for fucks sake I know I said you could play a SMALL portion of the victim card but you know this whole shitfest could have been avoided if y'all just left the antis alone or done something simple like post “any nice polite antis want to discuss/intellectually debate on shaladin” or something ANYTHING except seeking these guys out in the numbers on a discord group. Like you be acting like you calling out Donald Trump on some high end level blackmail he did when in reality you’re just posting screenshots of conversations that were meant to be private. Were some of the things they said rude??? HELL YEAH! But did they actively seek YOU out?? Uh no.) (though really in the first place, Antis if you hate shaladin so much…why you gotta go seek shaladin blogs out just to shit talk them….this isn’t a remake of mean girls or whatever….like fuck…you coulda just…avoided shaladin….and not looked at the blogs at all….) (BASICALLY WHAT THIS WHOLE THING IS SAYING IS THAT YOURE BOTH WRONG AND YALL GOTTA CHILL OUT AND EITHER APOLOGISE OR IF BOTH OF YOU GON BE PETTY THEN JUST IGNORE EACH OTHER)

Fuck ok guys I don’t know who minty or any of these people who are involved in the discourse are but y'all need to chill TF out. (Except maybe minty can lose her shit a little since y'all are fucking taking the nastiest most extra and unnecessary dump on her) I’d type in proper English and fucking make an essay if I could but I’m running on multiple cans of double shot espressos and approx 2 hours of proper sleep so leave me and my typos be. I’m only just awake enough to understand that this whole discourse could have been so easily avoided but ok fine it’s happening anyways cause y'all are extra

First of all, like in a way it confuses me as to why a shaladin shipper would go into an anti group but ok fine sometimes I wanna check out the compitish too. I mean you didn’t have to minty but fine ok I won’t judge too much since I do the same thing when I tryna throw some shade. Not saying that minty wanted to throw shade ok this is just my (hopefully incorrect) assumption so don’t be harassing minty about this

Edit: ok so I found out that apparently minty and their Friend went there to see if there were any nice antis and were severely let down. Fine ok y'all didn’t go there to throw shade. But y'all had to stay there?? I mean…like I’m usually all for throwing shade but…y'all coulda left…at any time… (still kudos for the infiltration lmao) (ok Kyle take this seriously)

But the rape video thing I mean like ://// if you didn’t wanna watch it like ok then don’t watch it y'all don’t gotta be so extra and just like “oh my goooOOoOoooOd minty’s tryna trigger us that god damn pedo shaladin shipper” I mean really guys chill TF out and just kinda ignore it?? She was just tryna help out some people and all y'all gotta do is either ignore it or help out :// no one forced you to do shit so don’t pull the victim card

As a matter of fact none of y'all get to pull the victim card. (I mean maybe except minty since in the first place most people just seem to be mad over the rape video which is just a misunderstanding so) (but they only get to pull like a small victim card. Very small. Since they didn’t really have to join the group in the first place. So not the full victim card just just like half or like a quarter) (yeah I realise I sound fuckin biased as shit towards minty but it’s hard not to sound biased when it comes to this particular sort of situation)

I mean I see this whole really extra and unnecessary discourse and I’m just reminded of all the warnings my Friends gave me on the Voltron fandom like why y'all gotta give us a bad name like that :/

Also like seriously guys try not to let this stereotype all of one group. Like don’t pull the “oh these few antis were assholes therefore all antis are assholes” like 1+1=492928???? Really guys I mean we’re all in the same fandom can we just leave people alone.

(Ok this is where I deviate from the whole Minty discourse and start talking about shalladin and the whole pedophillia thing)

I mean shalladin isn’t even actual pedophillia (Unless you count pidge who is like 14 and in her early teens which is technically still within like child-ness of that makes sense). Y'all realise pedophillia is sexual acts between an adult and CHILD right?? Right????? I mean the other paladins excluding pidge are in their late teens meaning 18-19 :// that’s not pedophillia that’s just mildly uncomfortable if Shiro turned out to be canonically like 40 or 50 but I doubt it :/

I mean if y'all are really that uncomfortable with it then fine ok that’s nice to each their own but y'all be calling other people pedophiles for merely liking shalladin. Like bitch ok leave other people alone pls? You stay in your corner we’ll stay in ours.

Also guys I mean like don’t go seeking out anti-shalladin people just to fuckin throw shade and shit at them :// I mean y'all are at least half the fuckin reason why they hate shalladin shippers. Just leave them be to each their own. I mean unless they seek you out then just politely tell them that they can take their opinion and put it in their pocket.

Also I don’t wanna get no anonymous bitches telling me I’m a pedophile for shipping shalladin. I don’t wanna get no ignorant fucks coming up into my inbox screaming at me for having a god damned opinion. Don’t be coming up at me like “Yoo like dude why tf would you post this like Fuck off” bitch I’m posting this cause I’m sick of seeing the Voltron fandom go into a god damned fucking war bc of these situations. If y'all chilled TF out and stopped being so extra and stopped purposefully seeking people out to fight with them maybe we wouldn’t be in this particular situation in the first place.

And there you have it. An actual essay on why Kyle is very very done with extra people in the fandom.

[severalbakuras]

FIRST THREE EPISODES OF S4 LETS GO

long post so apologies to mobile users. salt warning.

voltron season 4 spoilers (although i understand it’s technically still three the season just got split in two so the content drought wasn’t as long). please don’t give me spoilers for the rest of the season!! i don’t want them!!

(on the subject of content drought is steven universe still on hiatus?)

(still better than berserk’s hiatuses though)

episode 1:

still no new intro you COWARDS

second impact!!! oh no just a ship.

i wonder if galra have unions those two sound like they need one

BLADES

“do not engage” HMMM

oooh lizard blade

the blade up top could’ve totally seen that patrol coming tbh???

KEITH I KNEW IT!!!!

30 SECONDS TO SAVE LIZARD BLADE

holy shit he actually did it

sassy keith talking back to kolivan like that. hell yeah he saved their friend and the mission.

firo uh why are you acting like bridge boss? that was allura’s job and then coran’s job when she became the blue pilot. Back The Fuckéth Down.

there’s something ominous about those temples i can’t place it.

oh hey what’s up firo being a jackass as usual? k? k. keith can you employ the blade sass here too please it’s kinda sad watching this fake shiro stomp all your fire out.

pidge i hope that’s superficial damage bc cracks are probably not what you want in an outer space vessel.

wow rude. heith cancelled i’m not liking that.

i’m not trusting a DAMN THING from firo, especially when the music got super deep for a second.

i’m not in the military or remotely connected to it in any way but this is like... actually there’s no ‘like’ about it, they’re taking the most powerful and skilled soldiers out of combat in the middle of a war just so they can show them off, when voltron is already enshrined in the galactic mythos and by now it’s well known as being active and wrecking galra shit.

i can’t!! believe!! this!! is even!!! a debate?? parade which has already stated to have already happened very recently before or a galra supply ship going to for all that they know a secret galra base that they need to track down.

Y’ALL ARE FREEDOM FIGHTERS. IN AN ACTIVE WAR ZONE. THE FUCK.

god shut up lance he could be dead or captured and you’re more worried about the show.

i’m pretty sure you’ve only ~tried~ like what, three times? and like only one of those even made any impression on keith and i don’t even think it was the right one.

AND YOU SHOULD STILL TRY BECAUSE HE’S YOUR GODDAMN FRIEND.

NO LIZARD BLADE

so they’re off giving them the ol’ razzle dazzle and keith is running out of oxygen in the wreckage of a bomb explosion with no allies in sight floating adrift in space. fun times.

this parade is basically just an ad for toys LBR.

this is embarrassingly unfunny. like not even in a schadenfreude way.

so like y’all seriously have never thought about an alternative way for these parades to go just in case one of the lions needed repairs or was late back from a mission or a paladin was sick?

allura like i get what you’re trying to say here but like... do you know keith.

he’s not choosing the blades over voltron he’s choosing the fucking war over a parade.

ahh there he is, my terrible space prince. cleanse me of my salt.

god he has no respect for haggar at all ahhaha. i know some spoilers re honerva thanks to that one clip so it’s interesting he either doesn’t recognize her or doesn’t want to or that haggar either still doesn’t remember him or also doesn’t want to.

and y’all seriously never had a contingency plan for any situation that could mean voltron wasn’t around hhhhh.

hunk you’re the tank just AOE the spawned adds and let the DPS pick them off while you pop a defensive cooldown god you’d wipe the group in ragefire chasm even in full heirlooms wouldn’t you. (although there isn’t a healer lion and he’s clearly more protection warrior than the far superior blood death knight so lol no self heals)

huh. well the black lion historically isn’t a great judge of character so you’re still firo to me. like objectively, the black lion has no investment in her paladin’s life as seen on the bone planet when they were all separated, or even the continued existence of voltron. compare to the red lion, who will wreck entire bases and cross the galaxy to get to hers if she senses they’re in peril.

i wonder if voltron or the lions are conscious. like not like a person but like an EVA unit. a unit 1 vs zeruel style fight where voltron or one of the lions goes beast mode would be AMAZING

(spoiler warning for a 90s anime lol have i linked this before? i think i might have.)

now i want to watch original NGE again boo

(i wonder if we’ll ever get a real lion-on-lion fight. like either with the paladins involved or without. or like the lions deciding ‘fuck the pilot’ and disobeying them god that makes me want to watch NGE EVEN MORE)

holy shit you can all fuck off. 

god keith your voice.

HOLY SHIT YOU CAN ALL FUCK OFF THAT’S THE MOST HOLLOW ~FRIENDSHIP~ MOMENT TO DATE.

welp OT4 cancelled, i guess that means i have no nice ships in this fandom and only have crack ships like keitor and zethura. i think that’s the fastest i’ve ever gone from loving a ship to dumping it. wait no i was a puzzleshipper for all of a day before i got bored of it when i rewatched yugioh. hunk/allura/shay/keith lasted a few weeks between S3.1 and S3.2.

(it’s ok shay i still love you. i can still ship you and keith but that too is a crack ship ♥)

episode 2:

UH WELL THANKS FOR THAT SPOILER THUMBNAIL NETFLIX.

BABY PIDGE

it’s amazing how a single word has made me detest this boy more than any of the galra except that one shitty one who sucked. go to hell.

actually teacher can go to hell too you’re just gonna let the entire class laugh at her and not even try to maintain order? are you that petty about being corrected?

i like these watercolour-y style backgrounds, i hope other earth flashbacks get this kind of style. it’s a nice change from how clean and sharp everything else is.

aww he’s a good bro

NERDBABIES ♥

OH WELL I HOPE YOU GUYS HAVE A BACK UP PLAN IN CASE THE GALRA ATTACK WHILE SHE’S GONE :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

like he’s contacting her midflight which makes it seem like she just took off at the first hint of matt??? meanwhile kolivan contacts the ship and explains the situation and asks politely? but keith’s the bad guy for splitting up the team ok.

do i sound salty? i feel it.

that’s our hunk, he sure likes to eat! -hysterical crowd noises-

this city looks like a neo-tokyo sonic level in a good way.

the lamest spider man.

who are you sharktooth tail man.

the whole PLANET looks like a neo-tokyo sonic level in a good way. approve. the coolest planet. can that be the new hub planet and not that weird techno-ahn’qiraj thing?

so the green lion takes no steps to defend itself under attack without a paladin.

did she just bloodbend that ship?

I LOVE HER. SHE’S ABOUT TO DIE (pidge bloodbend her wound shut) BUT I LOVE HER.

“so here’s your supplies and a body cheers.”

so why all the secrets here? i feel like the garrison’s up to shady shit, like he was just a space tube driller right? is space geology really that cutthroat?

that shot of the graveyard, holy shit.

i wonder how pidge’s mother’s doing. probably not well.

now see this would be tense and tragic if not for the FUCKING THUMBNAIL NETFLIX.

physics? physics.

i love rusty space tech!!!!!!!!

aww ♥

so where’s mr. holt then.

oh so he’s not galra he’s a space dinosaur.

“looks to me like you’re made of meat, just like everyone else!” ok that was an amazing line. i’m stealing that for my blood death knight, it’s perfect for her. i like you bloody bounty huntersaurus. you’re so dead but i like you.

nerd squad!

was that shiro and keith in the back?

so matt’s eyesight couldn’t have been that bad for pidge to just put them on like that, unless he switched the lenses out and made them purely cosmetic. people have to sit down when they wear my glasses or they feel sick.

episode 3:

yknow show i already feel bad enough for haggar/honerva you don’t need to twist that knife anymore.

are they STILL torturing that guy? i mean dude’s so strong in his convictions and his loyalty that he’s not tried making up a fake or even letting his brain conjure up an answer that he believes is true y’all should consider promoting him instead maybe??? because he’s the most hardcore person in that room???

firo why does ‘refugee’ instantly translate to ‘soldier’ with you.

oh he’s lance but more anime around pretty girls. boy that sure was an interesting and appealing character trait the first time around!!!!!!1111!!!1!!

HE’S NOT SHIRO DON’T TRUST HIM MATT.

cyber zarkon. i hope his AI acts up and he has to use urban dictionary as his speech system.

interesting that her first act is to drop lotor in it.

they both hate lotor so much why’d you even have him in the first place huh?

SHE’S SO EXCITED also the formatting’s getting weird bc of the length i think so sorry if this starts looking weird.

there he is again!! space prince!!

nobody who worked on this scene has ever been close to a cow. where’s the intrinsic judgement of your soul, the innate suspicion at your mere presence?

also she needs a herd she’s gonna be lonely ;_;

lotor we all know you’re lying

well apparently they don’t so i guess that kind of behaviour is what they expect from him. huh. i wonder when the switch between that being true and that being a well rehearsed act happened.

haggar what did you just do to narti. that’s not a good high pitched noise or whispering. i feel like i’ve heard it before.

how do you miss a tracker that makes an explosion that large the first time around? and wouldn’t the scan be standard procedure at this point?

hunk why are you acting like this. it’s weird i don’t like it.

git gud lance.

that whole bit went on way too long.

OH NO NARTI I KNEW HAGGAR DID SOMETHING.

so lotor’s officially the enemy now. like public enemy number 1.

VLD IF YOU TAKE ZETHRID AWAY FROM ME LIKE SU DID WITH JASPER...

so it

was

narti oh no :( i’d kinda hoped it was the cat.

that’s pretty graphic too slicing the view in half like that. a very creative censor.

and they don’t react at all? huh.

ok ok now they have the chance to. god they all look miserable.

did they leave the cat behind?

wonder what keith’s up to.

[floppyamon]

Not tryna start shit or anything, but why do you think the concept of broganes is racist? I'm curious as to what you think of it.

So basically the term “broganes” came out before Season 2 and some people who weren’t invested in the fandom before that are currently using the term more innocently so I’m not as angry for that minority’s use of the term since they’re ignorant of the mess that is the Voltron Fandom™, but for the rest “broganes” seems to fall into one of these reasons which basically makes my blood pressure rise to unhealthy levels at this point:

Stupid reason #1: Keith and Shiro are both East Asian so they must be related. There is no way that there can be two East Asians in a show without being related, that is preposterous

Stupid reason #2 that somehow is the same and the antithesis of the above: Shiro and Keith can’t be a “progressive” relationship because it’s not interracial (like Lance and Keith or something ridiculous like that)

For some reason people think Takashi Shirogane is white. Please don’t ask me why I seriously have no clue it’s ridiculous

Having two East Asian men, one of which has PTSD and the other coming from a Southern background, who are shown to have a good past, work in sync with one another, rely on one another heavily, are canonly best friends, appreciate and trust each other in a relationship, and canonly hugged/nuzzled each other (sheesh) seems pretty progressive to me (even if that’s not the point of the show, fighting space dictators is)

Stupid reason #3: Keith called Shiro his brother so shipping them or having their relationship be anything other then “broganes” is disgusting

Hunk referred to Keith as his brother and I don’t see any Hunk and Keith discourse 

Shiro is Pidge’s surrogate brother and I don’t see a Pidge and Shiro nickname for that

(As for my more personal reason: My now ex s/o and I thought of each other as siblings for years before dating so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

But basically, a lot of the reasoning behind “broganes” seems racist at least in my eyes and is spawned from petty one-sided ship wars that the antis started

So tl;dr: Broganes was spawned by a bunch of jerks who were slacktivists at their finest and honestly I don’t have the time or energy for that level of bull 

[brittysaucefanfic]

Real Talk

Alright, so I just read an amazing and heartfelt post from a favorite author of mine, which you can read here. It was posted by @wittyy-name, and honestly I loved that inside look at the emotions they felt and why they do what they do. It was about why they write, and it was honest, deep, and soul bearing.

So it got me thinking. 

Why do I write? Why do I sit down at my computer or on my phone and write? Why do I take every chance I can to write or read? Why is it that when an idea hits me at work, when I’m knee deep in customers (I’m a cashier), that I immediately start typing it out on my phone on break? It’s not even usually an idea, just an inkling of something my characters would feel about something, and I can’t stop. Even when it’s not fandom related, when it’s got nothing to do with Voltron. I can sit down for hours at a time to write, and days at a time to read. So WHY? Why do I do it?

It’s because it’s the only thing that frees my mind.

If I go so much as a day, or even an hour, without reading or writing it starts to affect me physically. My body becomes lethargic, and I generally feel as if all emotions and will to do anything, anything at all is drained from me. I’m not hungry, or thirsty, or needing to use the restroom. I don’t feel the need to shower, and I don’t feel the need to sleep. 

When I have to do things, like say go to school, or work, I feel like I would literally prefer death. And that sounds dramatic, and like an overreaction right? Like I’m being a little too EXTRA about it all. But I’m not. When I was in school, for my entire high school career, I contemplated dropping out everyday. I contemplated what it would take to get me free of that prison, to get me back to being light hearted again. 

I contemplated violence, and I contemplated skipping. I thought about packing as much crap as I can manage into a duffel and leaving home for good. And I almost went through with these things multiple times. And that’s usual for everyone right? Everyone has these moments where they hate work or they hate school and just want to go home. But not me. I love to learn, and I love to work, but these thoughts I had don’t suggest that do they?

You know what kept me level? 

Reading. Or writing. 

The class would come to it’s last ten minutes or so, and most of my teachers were pretty cool, letting us do whatever in those last few minutes so long as we kept our volume down and didn’t get into trouble. I would drag out a book, or turn on my phone so I could go read, and everything would be alright for another half hour or so. 

Even just a few lines of either of them would lighten my chest, make it less like an elephant sitting on me and more like a mouse. And when I write, or read? It’s like a blind man seeing for the first time in his life every time. The raging storm in my head slows, the waves of my emotions calm, and everything is alright. 

At night, if I so much as think of an idea for an idea, I can’t sleep. Like witty, I daydream and daydream. I build on the characters, and the emotions, and the world inside my head. The thing is though, I can’t sleep unless I put it all down into physical form. 

It doesn’t have to be a full story in one night, hell it doesn’t even have to be a full chapter. A few lines, or a couple of bullet points, and the storm calms. 

So why do I write?

Because I have to, because I need to. I write because without it, it’s like I can’t breath. I’m drowning in my head and I have no life line. Writing and reading is my lifeline, has been since kindergarten. 

Let me tell you why.

What I was in kindergarten, or maybe Pre-K, there was a thing called story time. Wait, it definitely was Pre-K. Anyways, y’all remember storytime right? For those of you who might not know what I mean, let me give you a little info for the road.

Storytime was in the middle of the day, usually around lunch hours. Kids would gather in a rough circle in front of the teacher. There would be little groups split off, the friend groups, and the kids would be on the floor, looking up at the teacher. Or at least that’s how I remembered it. And the teacher would be in a chair, with a picture filled story book in hand. And she, (because I only ever had female teachers during storytime years for some reason, but it’s probably not the case everywhere, anyways), she would read the story. 

Well, there was this one time. This one incident between my teacher and I, not even an actual ‘incident’ really, just something that stayed with me for years, even to this day. She was about to start reading, when I asked to use the bathroom, and she said I could go, but at the last second, I poked my head in the door and said ‘Don’t start without me!’. When I got back, the book was over, and every kid wouldn’t stop teasing me about it for days and weeks afterwards. All because I never said ‘please’. 

And yeah, I’ll admit, I’m petty for still being bitter about it, but I was a kid, a toddler. What the hell would you expect? Doing something like that, to a child no less, it stays with a person, and never leaves, even if they don’t realize it.

Anyways, from that day forward I read every book I can get my hands on, because I have this childish logic my body deems necessary to keep me sane, that if I wait to read a book (and subsequently, write as well), it’ll be that moment all over again. When I lose my shot, my chance to know, and everyone is going to judge me for it. 

So why do I write?

I write because, without it, the oxygen tank keeping me alive will explode.

That’s why I write, how about you?

[sage-nebula]

So . . . against my better judgment, and also because of @kcgane‘s prodding, I did end up applying for the Wild Fyre Keith zine as a writer. I figure there’s probably still a slim chance I’ll get in anyway, so there’s probably not much risk, but either way, I applied.

That said, I’m sharing the samples I applied with to see what you guys think my chances are. None of them are Voltron fics (instead they’re one Yu-Gi-Oh! and two Pokémon fic samples---and before anyone groans, don’t worry, there are no card games even mentioned in the YGO sample), because I haven’t actually written any fics for Voltron before (I’ve only thought about it), but I figure that the point shouldn’t necessarily be the fandom, but rather the writing quality. So maybe take a look, and let me know what you think? (I’m also including links to the whole fics in case anyone is interested in these fics after reading the excerpts.)

Excerpts / samples below:

Sample #1:

Matsumoto let out a low, impressed whistle. "Well, serves me right for doubting you could pull it off," he said. He leaned forward to grab the bottle of alcohol—what kind it was, Jounouchi couldn't tell—on the table, and slid it across the surface toward Jounouchi. "Here's to you, kid. Have one, on me."

Jounouchi didn't bother to hide his disgust. "Pass," he said.

Matsumoto looked at him in open surprise, and Hirutani spared him one acidic glare before he looked to Matsumoto with an apologetic smile. "You'll have to forgive my boy," he said. "He hasn't yet learned how to speak to his betters."

My 'betters,' Jounouchi thought disparagingly, as Matsumoto laughed. Show me someone who's better and I'll show you how I talk.

Then again, he thought, as Matsumoto and Hirutani moved on to another topic, while Matsumoto was a petty bastard with yakuza dealings and Hirutani was a backstabbing, blackmailing, drug dealing, sadistic, equally as petty asshole, they weren't the only ones he had a habit of mouthing off to. His stomach twisted as he thought of Yuugi's face that day two months ago when he'd ended their friendship, and his throat felt thick when he remembered how earnestly Yuugi had looked at him not a half hour ago, how he again harshly told Yuugi to stay out of his life even as Yuugi had the misguided notion that Jounouchi could—or should—be "saved." Yuugi hadn't known about the hard drive in Jounouchi's pocket, hadn't known about the money he'd stolen despite the fact that the hard drive was the only thing he'd been sent after. He hadn't known that, however much he viewed Jounouchi as a worthwhile friend, as someone good, Jounouchi was anything but. Yuugi was selfless, kind, and honest. He was everything Jounouchi could never hope to be, and yet, even before he had fallen right back into Hirutani's toxic spiral, Jounouchi didn't think he'd ever really shown Yuugi the gratitude he should have for that second chance.

Jounouchi lit his cigarette and took a drag. Maybe Hirutani had a point after all.

". . . look forward to future dealings," Matsumoto said, and Jounouchi looked up in time to see him reach across the table and shake Hirutani's hand. Both of them had stood up while Jounouchi was lost in thought, and Jounouchi figured that he was probably expected to as well, as a form of "courtesy" or "politeness" or "etiquette" or whatever. He leaned back further on the couch and exhaled the smoke from his cigarette.

Matsumoto looked over at him. "I also look forward to seeing what you continue to bring to the table, Joutou-kun. I'm sure we can expect great things."

"Sure," Jounouchi said. He supposed Matsumoto's definition of "great" differed from his own.

Hirutani walked Matsumoto to the door, and Jounouchi frowned as Matsumoto nodded and exited the lounge without Hirutani. It occurred to him only as Hirutani shut and locked the door that Matsumoto was the owner of the bar. Wasn't this backwards? Shouldn't they be the ones getting the hell out of his place?

Hirutani turned and leaned back against the door, and his eyes were narrowed in seething rage as he stared down at Jounouchi on the couch. Jounouchi knew that look, and he suppressed a groan as he let his head fall back on the couch and shut his eyes.

His thoughts were torn between god fuck, here we go and I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, I don't—

"Where were you tonight?" Hirutani asked. His voice was quiet, level, but it held all the tension of a suppressed spring. Jounouchi tapped his foot in a rapid beat against the floor to try and channel his excess energy, and took another hit off his cigarette before he answered.

"You know where I was," he said as he exhaled. He ashed his cigarette over the floor. The ash tray was all the way across the table; too far to reach for some near-yakuza sleaze's lounge. "I was getting that hard drive thing for Matsumoto."

"After that," Hirutani said. "You were forty minutes late. Where were you during that time?"

"On my way here," Jounouchi said, and it wasn't a lie, either. Aside from that little backtracked detour in the park . . .

"And that's all you did? You came straight here?"

Two months ago, when Hirutani had first pulled Jounouchi back into his gang, he'd told him to never ask questions he already knew the answer to. It seemed to Jounouchi that Hirutani was making himself out to be something of a hypocrite now, but he had a feeling that it wasn't going to be to his benefit.

"Yep," he said.

"And that blood on your hand," Hirutani said, and he nodded toward Jounouchi as his eyes flicked toward Jounouchi's right hand. "That came from nowhere, did it?"

Jounouchi followed Hirutani's gaze, and dread dropped in his stomach like a sack of lead at the sight of the blood smeared across his knuckles. He hadn't even thought about the blood that had poured from the nose of Yuugi's mugger in the heat of the moment, hadn't even considered that some of it had gotten on him, hadn't even thought about it because it wasn't like it was the first time he got blood on him . . .

"It came from the guy," he said finally, and he tried to focus on the staccato rhythm he was tapping out with his foot, or the fact that he'd almost finished with his cigarette and kind of already wanted another. "You know, that business dude I had to get the hard drive from. I told you I knocked him out."

Hirutani raised his eyebrows. "You didn't wear gloves?" he asked, and Jounouchi had to stop himself from squeezing his cigarette hard enough to crumble it in his fingers. Shit. "You left prints?"

"No, I wasn't dumb enough to leave prints. I had gloves on for that. I . . ."

"You what? You took off your gloves in the car, knocked the man out, put them back on to steal the hard drive, and then took them off again?" Hirutani asked, and Jounouchi really hadn't needed him to spell it out to realize how stupid it sounded. He took another drag of his cigarette. "You're a piss-poor liar, Jounouchi. I'm only going to ask you one more time. Where were you between getting that hard drive for Matsumoto and coming here?"

Jounouchi allowed himself a brief moment of bitter reflection on the fact that, despite apparently being a piss-poor liar, he'd managed to fool Anzu, Honda, and Yuugi well enough two months ago. On reflex, he reached up to run a hand through his hair, but stopped himself short when he realized it was a waste of time given how short it was now. He settled for raking his nails against the back of his neck instead.

"Fine, you caught me," he said. "I got in a fight in the park. Happy?"

"With who?" Hirutani demanded.

"Why does it matter?" Jounouchi shot back. "I got what you—what Matsumoto wanted. I ditched my gloves, coat, and the hat I wore in the water off the docks." Which sucked, because even if he wouldn't miss the hat, that winter coat and those gloves had been the only ones he owned. Winter was going to suck ass this year. "Mission accomplished, no evidence to tie me to it. So I got in a fight on the way back and was a little late. So what? Shouldn't matter so long as I got the job done."

Hirutani crossed his arms, his nostrils flaring. It was a warning sign, but one that Jounouchi didn't care to heed. "When I want your opinion on what does or doesn't matter, I'll ask for it. And don't," he snarled, as Jounouchi leaned forward to grind his used up cigarette into the table, "put that out on the table, you fucking dipshit. Use the goddamn ash tray."

"Oh sure," Jounouchi said, as he pushed himself up off the couch to walk over to the end of the table. "You'll pass coke off on middle schoolers, but god forbid I put my cigarette out on the coffee table. Nice to see you've got your priorities straight."

"One of us has to," Hirutani said, and Jounouchi rolled his eyes as he ground his cigarette into the bottom of the ash tray instead. "Now answer my question. Who did you fight in the park?"

"My god, you sound like a jealous chick," Jounouchi said, and he pushed his voice up a couple octaves. "'Where were you tonight? Who were you with?'" He crossed his arms to stop himself for reaching for another smoke and gave Hirutani a caustic look in the face of the livid glare he was receiving. "If you're gonna act like my clingy girlfriend, at least buy me dinner first."

For all that Hirutani had pitched a fit about the prospect of Jounouchi putting his cigarette out on the coffee table, he had no qualms about stomping on it himself. With speed that belied his size, Hirutani bounded over the coffee table and shoved Jounouchi back against the wall.

"Watch your mouth," Hirutani snapped, and Jounouchi forced a laugh as Hirutani growled, "Last chance, Jounouchi. Who did you fight?"

"Last chance before what?" Jounouchi asked, and as Hirutani's lips pulled back in a soundless snarl that told Jounouchi he was about to reach for his knife, Jounouchi heaved an exasperated sigh. "Why the fuck does it matter? Why do you care? It was just a random asshole in the park whose face I decided to break. It's not a big deal."

"I care because you chose to piss away your time doing that instead of your job," Hirutani said. "You had one job—"

"And I did it," Jounouchi said, glaring right back in the face of Hirutani's furious scowl.

"And you did it halfway before you decided to piss off picking fights in the park, supposedly for no reason. You were told to get the hard drive and get back here. You did half of that—"

"Did you not see me hand over that hard drive when I walked in? Because if not, you could have fooled me from the way you were staring at me nearly the whole goddamn time—"

"When you walked in, forty minutes late. What part of this is too difficult for you to wrap your head around? Your job was to get the hard drive and get back here on time—"

"Because Matsumoto seemed real broken up that I got here late—"

"God damn it, that is not the fucking point!" Hirutani slammed his fist into the wall beside them. Jounouchi didn't flinch. Hirutani glared at him, teeth bared, before he shut his eyes and scrubbed his hand down his face, breathing through his teeth. "Do you have any idea what that looks like to a man like him?" he asked quietly. "Do you understand what it is that I'm trying to do here? What it is that I did here tonight?"

"I get that it's more of your usual bullshit," Jounouchi said. Hirutani opened his eyes to glower at him.

"Now that I've done this for him, he owes me a favor," Hirutani said, his words careful and deliberate. "I can cash in at any time. More importantly, he knows that I'm reliable. If he needs a service again, he can deal again to get it done. In return, he'll owe more. Those totals will stack. With more credibility comes more power. And given the influence he has, that is credibility and power that I can use." Hirutani narrowed his eyes. "Do you see now? Do you see what it is that I've done? Do you see what it is that you could have easily fucked up with the stupid ass way you decided to act tonight?"

Jounouchi gave him a flat stare before he pushed past Hirutani to head to the other side of the room. Space. He needed space. Room to breathe. "I see that you're going on about your accomplishments when you didn't actually do much," he said, and he made his voice as casual as he could given the way adrenaline was making his pulse spike. "All things considered, I'm pretty sure I'm the one any favors should be owed to."

Hirutani snorted. "Nice joke."

Jounouchi turned and raised his eyebrows. "Uh, excuse me, but who's the one that actually went out and got the damn thing? Because I'm pretty sure that was me."

"Who's the one that sent you?" Hirutani fired back. "Who's the one who knew that you'd be the best man suited for the job? Who's the one who is in charge?" Jounouchi bit his tongue to keep himself from replying, and in his silence Hirutani said, "You can fight, but that's all you've got. You're nothing unless someone with brains comes along to be your handler, and that someone is me."

Jounouchi was far from the smartest guy in the world, and he both knew and had accepted this fact a long time ago. But he still balled his fingers into fists as he glared at Hirutani and said in a low voice, "I can handle myself."

Hirutani scoffed. "Yeah, you handled yourself real well when you swaggered in here forty minutes late," he said, and Jounouchi rolled his eyes. "You handled yourself real well when you decided it was a smart idea to give Matsumoto a dumbass alias when he asked for your name—"

"He's yakuza," Jounouchi said. "Or near enough."

"That didn't seem to matter a whole lot to you when you were mouthing off and ignoring him in equal turn," Hirutani said, and Jounouchi scowled at the coffee table. He didn't have a real response to that. "It didn't seem to matter when you were a stupid enough pissant to refuse the drink he offered you—"

"I don't drink," Jounouchi said sharply, because even if there was truth in that maybe he should have watched his mouth a little better to avoid bringing the yakuza down on his head, he wasn't about to chug booze for them. "You know that."

"What I know is that when a man like Matsumoto offers you something, you don't say no," Hirutani said, and Jounouchi held his ground as Hirutani stalked a few paces toward him. "You don't have the luxury of refusing someone like that. If he says drink, you drink. For that matter, if I say drink, you drink. I brought you in as my number two, but—and here's a refresher since you seem to keep forgetting—that means that I am still your boss. So if I decide to have you toss back a couple beers—or if I want you to have a drink with Matsumoto—guess what?" Hirutani took another step closer, and Jounouchi crossed his arms to keep from slugging him. "You're going to do it."

Jounouchi scoffed. "The fuck I am," he said, and fury flared in Hirutani's eyes. "I won't even drink soda around you after the roofie incident, much less—"

Hirutani rolled his eyes. "That was one time—"

"One time is enough, asshole!"

"—and it was almost a year ago. Get over it." Hirutani gave him a cold look. "Or don't. I don't really care what you think, Jounouchi. I care what you do. And what you're going to do is whatever I tell you to do, no questions asked or backtalk given. Are we clear?"

The appropriate answer, Jounouchi knew, as his heart worked double time to pump adrenaline into his muscles, was 'yes.' The better answer, the one that would stroke Hirutani's god complex and make him higher than an entire bottle of ecstasy could, was 'yes sir.' But, Jounouchi figured, what made him so stupid wasn't that he never knew the right answers. It was that he often knew what the right answer was, but then deliberately chose the wrong one anyway.

"Fuck you," he said.

Jounouchi was momentarily blinded as Hirutani's fist crashed into his eye. The force of the blow knocked him back, his leg smacking into the corner of the coffee table as his cheekbone throbbed, and he barely had time to blink the spots from his eyes before Hirutani swung again. Jounouchi jumped back a few steps, both to dodge the strike and to move into the open area on the other side of the table. More room to move, more room to fight.

The problem, if it could be called that, was that they were more or less evenly matched. Hirutani was stronger, but Jounouchi was faster; Jounouchi was able to weave and duck around blows that Hirutani couldn't avoid, even as Hirutani was able to better withstand Jounouchi's fists every time Jounouchi socked him in the face. Ten minutes into their fight and Jounouchi's head was throbbing while Hirutani's mouth was freely bleeding and his right eye was swelling, but still Jounouchi ducked under another one of Hirutani's swings to move back toward the center of the room, his fists raised to block if he couldn't dodge, and that was when he noticed the thing sticking out of Hirutani's pocket.

He looked up in time to see Hirutani's fist rocketing toward his face—

Jounouchi caught Hirutani's fist and used Hirutani's own momentum against him, dragging him back toward the wall. Jounouchi was briefly pinned, but he wrenched himself free to twist around Hirutani again, his free hand palming Hirutani's knife out of his pocket on the way. Hirutani grabbed Jounouchi's arm, but Jounouchi twisted in his grip and slammed his foot against Hirutani's kneecap, and the pain—however brief—was enough to make Hirutani let go.

Jounouchi flipped the knife in his hand.

He'd never really fought with weapons before. They were cheap, as far as he was concerned. People who relied on weapons were people who couldn't kick enough ass with their fists. There were exceptions to the rule, of course; he was no stranger to using pool cues or chairs when he was faced with too many opponents that had too many size advantages on him back when he was a punk middle schooler who had a habit of picking just that kind of fight. But things like knives, things like guns . . . they weren't his style. He was too good at what he did to rely on things like that.

But this had to end. Hirutani turned to face him, a dangerous grin tilting his lips, and Jounouchi ran his tongue along his teeth, tasting blood. Not just this fight—this whole thing had to end, and if he could end it here, end it now—

Once again, Hirutani came at him. Jounouchi skirted to the side, and when Hirutani turned, Jounouchi slugged him with his opposite hand. It wasn't his dominant arm, but it worked; Hirutani stumbled back, and Jounouchi pressed his advantage, throwing his full weight against Hirutani to knock them both down to the floor, Hirutani pinned beneath him. Hirutani's head was against the wall.

Jounouchi raised the knife.

He could end it. He could. One stab was all it would take. One to the throat. He wouldn't get up from that. If he stabbed—if he killed Hirutani—that would be it, it'd be the end, he'd be dead and Jounouchi would never have to—no one would ever have to—

He swallowed, tightened his grip on the knife handle. His hand was shaking—adrenaline—and he raised it higher—

It occurred to him a second too late that Hirutani had been oddly still, watching him—and his hesitation, his late realization, cost him. Hirutani shoved him back, and a half second later kicked Jounouchi hard enough in the ribs to, he was pretty sure, at least splinter some of them. Jounouchi was thrown backward, and when his back hit the floor he lost his grip on the knife. It fell somewhere, but he had no time to see where as Hirutani threw himself on top of Jounouchi, straddling him, pinning him, pain searing across Jounouchi's ribs at the added weight, one of Hirutani's hands around his throat, the other holding his right arm down—

God, he couldn't breathe; Jounouchi grasped at Hirutani's hand with his left hand, trying to pry Hirutani's fingers off his throat, only for Hirutani to squeeze tighter. With the way he was straddled, he couldn't kick him off; his head spun and every time he tried to breathe, tried to cough or choke or gasp for more air, all he felt was pain, more pain and he couldn't—he couldn't—he couldn't breathe and needed Hirutani off, needed him to get off, get off, get off get off get—!

Jounouchi coughed and sputtered as Hirutani released some of the pressure—just enough to let Jounouchi breathe. Hirutani kept Jounouchi pinned beneath him, and as some of the dizziness faded, Jounouchi became aware of the fact that Hirutani was talking to him. Maybe he had been the entire time he had him pinned there.

". . . gave you the perfect opportunity, and you wasted it," Hirutani said. "You're soft, Jounouchi. Weak. You don't have it in you to kill. Not yet. It's in your best interest if you don't try, because unlike you, I won't hesitate."

Jounouchi glared at him. "I'm not—" His words were cut off as Hirutani tightened the pressure again, and he coughed when Hirutani loosened his grip.

"You are," he said. "Soft. Weak. Worthless as you are now for the things we're doing. For where we're headed. You want to talk about how Matsumoto's yakuza? Where do you think you'll be in a couple years, give or take? Provided you don't fuck everything up, of course."

Yakuza. The thought made bile rise in Jounouchi's throat, but then, that might've also been due to the guy strangling him. The last time Hirutani had him pinned like this—years ago, back in middle school—he'd held Jounouchi's arms, but it seemed that since then he'd learned—

"I'm done with petty gangs, Jounouchi. I'm better than that. You are, too—or you will be. Once I finally break you." Hirutani leaned closer, and Jounouchi ground his teeth together to bite back a gasp as pain flared in his cracked ribs. "I don't know what it's going to take to do it, but I'll find it. I'll break you, and then remake you. By the time I'm done . . ." He laughed softly. "The yakuza will be bowing to make way for us."

"Who says I want to be with the fucking yakuza?" Jounouchi spat, and Hirutani snorted.

"What makes you think you have a choice?" he asked. "In case you've forgotten—again—I decide your future. I decide where you go, what you do, how and when you do it. And I've decided you're to be my number two, no matter how many times you make me hurt you."

Jounouchi scoffed a laugh. "I make you—"

"Yeah, you make me. What the hell else do you call this?" Hirutani shook his head in disgust. "You know the deal, Jounouchi. You know our agreement, and you continue to fight me. The sooner you give in, the easier this will be. You know that. I know that. If you weren't so damn stubborn, you'd admit it."

Jounouchi said nothing. He glowered at Hirutani for several long seconds, before Hirutani finally pulled back a little, his thumb stroking underneath Jounouchi's jaw.

"You'll learn," he said, and it almost sounded more like he was talking to himself. "One way or another, I will make you understand. And when you do, you'll be better for it." He met Jounouchi's eyes. "You'll see."

Hirutani pushed himself up, and once he finally—fucking finally—released his hold on Jounouchi's throat, Jounouchi pushed himself up, ready and raring to knock the shit out of him—

Only to have Hirutani stomp down on Jounouchi's ribs—his fucking ribs, god fuck!—and pin him back to the floor.

"You're done for tonight," he said coldly. "You're not ruthless enough. Not yet. You will be—I swear on my mother's rotting corpse I'll drag it out of you if I have to break every bone in your body first—but you're not yet. Give it up, Jounouchi. We're done here."

Jounouchi forced himself to smirk, and propped himself up on his elbows despite the boot on his chest. Fucking hell, if his ribs weren't broken before— "And then I'll get to cut your fucking throat out, right?"

Hirutani huffed a laugh, and turned away. Jounouchi watched as Hirutani picked up his knife, tossed it once in the air, and then caught it again before he slipped it into his pocket.

"You'll at least be able," he said. "But you won't."

Don't bet on that, Jounouchi thought savagely.

Hirutani made his way toward the door, unlocked it, and paused just before stepping out.

"By the way," he said, and he didn't turn to look back as he did, "if I find out that you were with any of your little Domino High friends during your random stint in the park tonight, then so help me, the next time you see them will be at their funerals." Jounouchi's heart felt frozen in his chest as Hirutani turned to throw a caustic smirk over his shoulder. "But don't worry. I'll buy you dinner first."

 From: Whispers in the Dark, ch. 3, “In the Details With the Devil”

Sample #2:

Nestled at the base of a mountain so far in the woods off the standard trail of Route 10 that it would take less of a map and more of a mercy from the Fates to find, Isolé Village carried the air of a town that was unaware that time was supposed to move forward at a decent kip. The lack of cellular reception that made Fulbert groan and grumble as he stuffed his pokégear back into his pocket aside, all of the buildings in the village (settlement might have been a better word for it, really—a little cluster of buildings contained within the small pocket created by the trees and mountain range at the back) looked to be at least thirty years out of style with the rest of the architecture in Kalos. Most of the buildings were fashioned out of wood (which was, Augustine thought, the primary reason why they had so much trouble with the houndour raid), and those that weren’t were constructed from stone. Choice in material aside, no house was greater than one story, and none of the businesses (of which there seemed to be only one of each variety: a general mart, a diner, a pharmacy . . .) looked big enough to contain more than one main room for business and perhaps one room in back for storage. There were no Pokémon Centers in sight.

But even with the rustic architecture and construction of the tiny village, it was clear that the reason why it looked as if it was falling apart had less to do with the fact that it was doubtful any new construction had taken place over the last several decades, and more to do with the fact that most of the buildings contained within it had been set on fire very recently. Scorch marks streaked the earth, leaving large dirt trails where it was evident grass used to grow, and soot was caked into the stone of the fountain in the center of town. Most of the buildings had holes that had been temporarily patched over with tarps or mismatched boards, and there were great black marks on the sides and front of nearly every building where it was clear a fire had been hastily put out. Half of the general store sign was missing so that it read GENER instead, and there was a sign on the door of the diner that read, CLOSED DUE TO HOUNDOUR PANTRY INVASION.

“Seems like we found the right place,” Fulbert said, though he looked disgruntled as he patted the pocket that contained his pokégear. “Even if we’re about thirty years too early.”

“It would be kind of ironic if a pack of houndour we were tracking just so happened to come raid the same village once every thirty years, wouldn’t it?” Augustine asked, and he grinned. “Particularly considering that I wouldn’t have been born yet.”

“Neither would I,” Fulbert said, indignant. “We’re the same age.”

“Are we?” Augustine asked, and his smile grew as Fulbert’s scowl deepened. “Oh, that’s right! I forgot again, my mistake. Well, what do you say we put that behind us and find the mayor of this humble town so we can get this show on the road?”

Fulbert looked as if he wanted to rise to Augustine’s teasing and press the point, but his distaste for being in such a remote area won out over his annoyance. “Fine. Sooner we get the info we need, the sooner we can find the houndour and get out of the sticks. I’m in.”

Augustine beamed. “That’s the spirit!”

Fulbert shook his head as he turned and started deeper into the village, attracting more than a few stares from the townspeople (who were, in contrast to the state of their hamlet, dressed in reasonably modern clothing if several years out of current fashions). But no matter how disgruntled his colleague was, Augustine couldn’t keep the grin off his own face.

Fulbert was not wrong when he pointed out that they were the same age, and if one wanted to be technical, Fulbert was actually several months younger. But aside from being built like an ursaring and sporting a beard that could make a hiker feel like a youngster, Fulbert had a habit of examining every situation with the same attitude a middle-aged man might take to newspapers bearing stories of rambunctious youth setting up underground rollerblading clubs in the local parks. No matter the situation, there was a serious and often grave angle to it that Fulbert was sure to spot and grouch about within the first five minutes of examining it. He was physically capable of smiling and laughing, of course, but his usual state of perpetual grump made it difficult for Augustine not to try and prod the fun out of him every now and again. That they had been roommates in university and had decided to partner up to aid in each other in their various areas of research after school only made it more irresistible.

This venture was one such joint project of theirs. For the past three years Augustine and Fulbert had been tracking several different species of pokémon around the Kalos region. Fulbert’s area of research focused primarily on regional variations within different species—whether or not species that were born and raised in certain areas would have varying capabilities or markings compared with species born and raised in other areas, and other such hypotheses of that nature. Augustine, meanwhile, was intrigued by the concept of mega evolution (something which had very little evidence documented for it so far and which Fulbert had warned was not likely to result in a breakthrough big enough to sustain Augustine’s profession, but Augustine waved his concerns off), and was intent on following houndour given that its evolution, houndoom, was one of the pokémon that historical records said could mega evolve. Perhaps by studying houndour, Augustine could stumble across a clue that would help him progress his research. (And if not, well, it was fun to tag and track houndour, so it wasn’t as if he was really wasting his time anyway.)

But while the houndour had kept to their standard areas along Route 10 in the previous years, this year Augustine received an e-mail pleading for help from the mayor of Isolé Village, claiming that a pack of wild houndour had rampaged through and destroyed half the town. (How they managed an internet connection at all in such a remote location puzzled Augustine and Fulbert both, but Augustine was curious to find out.) Worried that it was their houndour pack, Augustine and Fulbert set out to investigate, and when their pack was missing from their normal dens, they opted to begin their search with the village and spread out from there to find out what had driven their pups off course.

It was likely going to be easier said than done, as Fulbert feared, but Augustine was looking forward to the adventure.

The mayor’s residence was, according to her e-mail, nearer to the back of the village, positioned just in front of the well. That was where they headed and where they found (who Augustine assumed to be) her, carrying a laundry basket containing a moving bundle of sheets as she made her way across the town square.

“Excuse me!” Augustine called, and when she looked up he waved and offered her a bright smile. “Would you happen to be Mayor Gosselin, by chance?”

“Yes, and you . . . oh!” the mayor’s face brightened as she took in Augustine’s and Fulbert’s lab coats, and she shifted the laundry basket so that it was tucked under her arm instead. The bundle of blankets inside of it continued to shift and move around. “Are you the professors? Professor Sycamore, and . . . ?”

“Fulbert. I’m a colleague of Professor Sycamore’s,” Fulbert said, shaking the mayor’s hand in turn.

The mayor beamed widely at the pair of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you so much for coming out. I’m impressed you managed to find us so quickly!”

“So am I,” Fulbert muttered, “considering it’s so far out in the—”

“We’re both well-traveled, and we’re familiar with the area due to our research, so all it took was a little extra legwork and determination to find you all,” Augustine cut in. The mayor gave Fulbert a bemused look for a moment before she smiled gratefully at Augustine once again.

“Well as I said, we’re so grateful you could make it. Here, come with me; I’ll fix you both up a cup of . . . tea or coffee, whichever you prefer, and we can have ourselves a talk about the current situation. Whatever help you can provide we’d be most grateful for.”

“We’ll certainly do what we can,” Augustine said, and he motioned for Fulbert to follow the mayor first as she led the way back to her home. Fulbert rolled his eyes but followed Augustine’s gesture, and Augustine grinned.

The mayor’s home had, thankfully, seemed to be spared the worst of the damage caused by the houndour pack. There were only a few errant scorch marks marring the wood on the outside, and the inside seemed clean, open, and inviting. Potted plants hung in the corners of the living room, and while the coffee table was crafted from aged oak, the small, lacy table cloth fitted over it was charming, and there were coasters protecting the surface from any condensation caused by glasses. Augustine and Fulbert took seats on the sofa (Fulbert looking a bit uncomfortable, no doubt to the quaint furnishings), and the mayor set the laundry basket she had been carrying on one of the chairs nearest the door before she headed into the kitchen.

“What would you gentlemen like?” she called. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Whichever would be easiest for you,” Augustine said. “Would you like some help?”

“Oh no, you’re our guests! What sort of hostess would I be if I had you serve yourselves, hm? Besides, so long as you can help rid us of that houndour menace, you’ll be helping more than enough, trust me.”

“Don’t know ‘rid you of’ is the phrasing I’d use,” Fulbert said beneath his breath, tapping his fingers against his legs.

“So long as we discover what attracted them to the village in the first place, we can modify it and she—the village won’t know the difference,” Augustine replied, using the same undertone. “Though I agree, her word choice could be a little better.”

Fulbert grunted, but otherwise didn’t reply.

They were quiet for the next few minutes as the mayor prepared their drinks in the kitchen, Augustine surveying the room as Fulbert drummed his fingers against his thighs. Every now and then the laundry basket on the chair would wobble and shake, and Augustine felt his curiosity gnawing at him like a pikachu on a frayed wire. Just when he was about to get up and investigate it (manners be damned) the mayor entered the room with a tea tray and three cups, which she set on the table before them.

“Here we are! Three nice cups of tea,” she said. Augustine and Fulbert both sat up to take theirs as the mayor sat down in the only remaining empty seat. As she did so, the laundry basket shook again, wobbling ominously. Augustine watched it before he looked over at the mayor, who raised her eyebrows at him.

“What is—?”

Before he could finish his sentence something burst up through the bundle of sheets in the basket, startling Fulbert enough so that he splashed his tea on himself with a hissed profanity. As he grabbed a napkin off the tea tray to help himself, Augustine saw that the creature previously in the basket was a bunnelby, which bounded over to the coffee table, nose twitching.

“So you’ve finally decided to come out now that you know something’s been prepared, have you?” the mayor said, her tone caught somewhere between stern and amused. The bunnelby’s ears twitched, and he looked at her hopefully. She shook her head. “No, that tea is for our guests. You know where you can find your own food.”

The bunnelby pouted, but then bounded around the sofa to head to another part of the house.

“A laundry basket is an interesting choice of carrier for your pokémon,” Augustine said, smiling, and the mayor laughed as Fulbert wadded up the napkin he had used to clean the tea from himself and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Oh, he isn’t mine. He’s wild. We have bunnelby all over the village. They seem to like infesting our laundry most of all, but really they scamper every which way they can.” She shrugged. “We used to think of them as pests, but they’re far from our biggest and they behave better in comparison, so we don’t mind them much. We just set out food for them so they don’t get into ours.”

“Setting out food will just encourage them to stay,” Fulbert said, frowning. He glanced at Augustine. “And that might be what attracted the houndour.”

“The houndour shouldn’t want the same food the bunnelby eat, though,” Augustine said. “Unless of course they were hunting the bunnelby . . . but I don’t see why they would go this far for prey. Route 10 didn’t seem to be suffering a lack of other pokémon.”

“They didn’t seem to be hunting the bunnelby, neither,” the mayor said, and both Augustine and Fulbert looked back to her, Augustine taking a sip of his tea (and doing his best not to grimace at the taste). “If they were, why would they attack our buildings? They ransacked the whole village, I’m sure you saw. Fires everywhere, they completely cleaned out the diner . . . it was a wonder we managed to chase them off. I’m still not sure we did. They didn’t seem intimidated by us, at any rate; one of them ripped Maurice’s broom from his hands and destroyed the thing.”

“Was it a wooden broom?” Fulbert asked.

The mayor gave him a quizzical look. “Yes, why?”

“Why would Maurice, whoever he is, try and chase off a houndour with a wooden broom?” Fulbert demanded, and the mayor opened her mouth as if to rebut, but didn’t manage to say anything before he said, “Houndour are fire-types. Even if one of them didn’t take it, they could have just set it on fire. Then he’d be holding a flaming broom and the houndour would still be there. What part of that seems like a good idea?”

“That aside,” Augustine said, as the mayor drew herself up in an offended huff, “can you think of anything specific the houndour did, or seemed to be doing? Did it look as if it was a coordinated hunt? Did you notice any odd behavior from them—any stumbling, dizzy or confused movements, unusual salivating—anything like that?”

“Not that I can remember, but I’m not the most familiar with houndour. We don’t usually see them ‘round here, and I’m not one of the ones that goes out for supply runs,” the mayor said. “They just seemed wild to me, but I know they hit up every building before they finally headed back to the mountains.”

“Back?” Augustine exchanged a glance with Fulbert, who gave him a puzzled frown in return.

“Well, that’s where they’re from, right?” the mayor asked. “From up in the mountains?”

“Not at this time of year, no, and definitely not when they came through here. They should have still been back on Route 10,” Fulbert said.

“But their usual dens were empty. It did seem as if they moved on, though there was no hint as to why . . .” Augustine set his teacup back on the tray. He wasn’t going to finish it. “They must have moved on early. The reason why is likely related to whatever it was that compelled them to come through here.”

“You’re sure you don’t know anything?” Fulbert asked the mayor, and Augustine discreetly kicked his ankle as an admonishment for his rude tone. Fulbert didn’t so much as twitch. “Anything at all?”

“Like I said, I’m just not familiar with houndour. None of us are. All I know is that when they were done they booked it back to the mountains,” the mayor said. “I can show you the path, if you’d like.”

Fulbert opened his mouth—to turn down her offer, if Augustine knew him, and Augustine did—but Augustine cut across him before he could reply. “That would be most helpful, thank you.”

The mayor smiled, and set her own teacup down on the tea tray. “Certainly, Professor. Come with me, and I’ll show you the way at once.”

She rose from her chair and headed toward the front door, and as Fulbert set his own (empty, amazingly) teacup down on the tea tray with the other two, he hissed, “It’s not like the mountains are hidden or hard to find. We can get there ourselves.”

“There’s no reason to turn down her offer, especially since she couldn’t give us much other information,” Augustine replied, his own voice barely above a whisper. “Be nice and let her help, it won’t hurt you.”

Fulbert made a sound deep in his throat that sounded an awful lot like harumph (which was, in Augustine’s dignified and educated opinion, a crotchety old man grunt if he had ever heard one) before he followed the mayor, and Augustine followed suit. The mayor smiled at them again as they joined her at the door, and without further prompting opened it so that she could lead them out (leaving it open for a second longer than necessary so that the bunnelby from before could dart through and bound across the grass).

“You really should watch out about letting wild pokémon roam your house,” Fulbert said. “Bunnelby might be cute, but that doesn’t mean they can’t bite or cause damages.”

“Oh, they’re fine,” the mayor said, waving her hand dismissively. Augustine grinned as Fulbert scowled. “Like I said, they’re hardly the worst nuisance we have to contend with, although . . .” She looked up at the sky, pondering something, and then smiled. “It’s the end of the month, so at least that’ll be off my family’s plate in short order. For a little while, anyway.”

“What will?” Augustine asked.

“Never you mind that, now. You’ve got enough to worry about with the houndour without having to handle our other problems, too,” she said. Augustine glanced at Fulbert, who gave him a look and shrug that plainly said ‘well, she’s right about that one’ in response.

The mayor led them to the base of the mountain, which—as Fulbert had pointed out—was more or less a straight shot through the village, not too far from the mayor’s own home. In fact, Augustine was perplexed to see that—the gap of wilderness between the mountains and village aside—the only thing that really seemed to be standing between the mountains and the village was no longer actually standing: the remnants of a small fence littered the earth, completely dismantled save for a few of the posts on either side.

“We put that up ages ago to try and deter wild pokémon from coming too close,” the mayor said, noticing Augustine and Fulbert’s stares. Fulbert gave her an appalled look. “It didn’t wrap all the way ‘round the village, of course, but our previous mayor—that is, the mayor before the mayor before me—thought that they might still get the picture . . . well. The houndour didn’t seem to, anyway.”

“Unbelievable,” Fulbert said. Augustine elbowed him in the ribs.

“Well, we’ll take it from here. We have a fairly good idea of where to start. Thank you so much for your help,” Augustine said.

“Glad to do whatever I can to make sure this whole thing gets resolved,” the mayor said. She paused, and then added in a worried tone, “Are you sure you’ll be all right up there, Professor? Should we send help if you’re not back by a certain time?”

“Ah, no. I might not quite be on the level of a hiker, but I’ve certainly done my fair share of traveling in my day,” Augustine said, and he clapped Fulbert on the shoulder. “Besides, I have my faithful colleague here with me, and despite his age he could survive in the mountains for weeks without tiring.”

“We’re the same age,” Fulbert said, and he jerked his shoulder out from under Augustine’s palm.

“So you really needn’t worry,” Augustine told the mayor, ignoring Fulbert. “We’ll be just fine.”

The mayor smiled, although her smile seemed a bit uncertain in the face of Fulbert’s sour scowl. “Well, all right then,” she said. “But you make sure to come on back down if you need anything at all, you hear?”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you for your kindness.” Augustine bowed courteously (Fulbert inclined his head in a little jerk), and after returning it, the mayor turned to head back toward the village. When she was out of earshot, Augustine turned to Fulbert and said, “You could at least try to be a little polite.”

“Me? I’m just being honest. You want to see rude, you didn’t even finish your damn tea,” Fulbert shot back.

The aftertaste of the tea still lingered in Augustine’s mouth, and he couldn’t help but grimace a little. “It wasn’t very good tea,” he said.

“Hah, see, and you call me rude.”

“It’s not as if I told her that her tea was bad! That would have been rude. I simply didn’t finish it because we have work to do. You’re the one constantly trying to refuse her hospitality and making fun of their—what used to be their fence.”

“Look at it.” Fulbert gestured to the ruins of the fence. Upon giving it a more serious look, Augustine could see that even when it was standing it would still fall short of the village borders by a few feet on either side. “What pokémon was that supposed to deter? Caterpie? There aren’t even caterpie out here.”

“At least they tried. It was a solid idea,” Augustine said. When Fulbert gave him a flat look, he grinned. “No, it really was. That wood looks like it was pretty sturdy when it was still standing. It was definitely solid.”

Fulbert gave him a look of deep disgust, and turned toward the mountain trail. “I’m leaving you for dead in these mountains. Goodbye, Augustine.”

Augustine laughed, and jogged after to catch up. “You would never. But if we are getting started, how do you want to handle this, hm? I’m sure we can take care of this within the day—two at most—but as fun as this adventure is bound to be I think we should have some sort of plan before we get started.”

“Augustine Sycamore wants to use a plan. Wonders will never cease,” Fulbert said. This time it was Augustine’s turn to roll his eyes. Fulbert paused in the middle of the dirt path, and squinted against the sun at the mountain range that stretched before them. “We can cover more ground if we split up, and I think I see a fork ahead. You take the left, I take the right?”

“Sounds like as good a plan as any. And here, I had a feeling that we would lose cell reception out here, and so . . .” Augustine dug into his travel bag, pushing past his notebooks, travel mug, and other equipment to produce two large walkie-talkies. He held one up in each hand, beaming as he said, “Ta-da!”

Fulbert gave him a nonplussed stare. “What are those?”

“They’re walkie-talkies. You know, devices that can allow us to communicate over long distances.” Augustine poked Fulbert in the shoulder with the antennae of one of the walkie-talkies. “For such an old man, you really are clueless when it comes to the technology of your generation. I know you really want to fit in with the youth and use all their tech instead, but—”

Fulbert swiped the walkie-talkie from Augustine’s hand, and in the same beat punched Augustine’s shoulder with his other fist. Compared to how hard Augustine knew Fulbert could hit (with the broken hinges of their dorm room door after they locked themselves out one winter serving as proof) Augustine knew that Fulbert hadn’t hit him that hard, but he still rubbed the spot nonetheless.

“I know what a walkie-talkie is,” Fulbert snapped, and he held it up and shook it a little as he said, “But what I want to know is what century this one is from. Did you get this up from the sunken part of the S.S. Cactus?”

“They’re not that old,” Augustine said, and he couldn’t help but sound a bit defensive as he examined his own. “I found them in my parents’ attic the last time I visited. I think they’re charming.”

Fulbert snorted. “Charming. It’ll be real charming when we’re stuck up there and they don’t work.”

“I tested them before I took them from my parents’ house. They work just fine,” Augustine said, and he smacked the antennae of his own walkie-talkie against Fulbert’s shoulder. Fulbert gave him a skeptical look that Augustine didn’t think dignified addressing. “Let’s just get started, shall we? We can radio one another through the walkie-talkies if we find anything, and we’ll meet back here in two hours to discuss regardless of whether we find anything or not so that we can change our strategy if necessary. Agreed?”

“That’s the most logical plan I’ve ever heard you produce in your life, so yes,” Fulbert said.

Part of Augustine wanted to tap Fulbert on the head with his walkie-talkie this time, but he settled for smirking instead. “I disagree. Don’t you remember the pulley system I created so that we could bring food we had delivered to us up to our dorm via the window so that we didn’t have to go down into the cold to get it during the winter months?”

Fulbert shook his head, and started up the mountain path again, veering to the right as they had discussed. “I repeat, this is the most logical plan I’ve ever heard you produce in your life,” he said.

“You made great use of that pulley system! You used it just as many times as I did!” Augustine said, and he raised his voice as he took to the left path, walking backwards so that he could call after Fulbert’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t ridiculous!” Fulbert shouted back, without turning.

From: Genesis

Sample #3

Like TF, the corridors of BF consisted of polished, gleaming chrome. And if the corridors of TF had felt empty (even if most of the rooms Alan had passed while walking the halls had not been), then the corridors of BF seemed intent on making him aware that he was completely and utterly alone. That thought was ridiculous, he knew; Lizardon’s pokéball was in the right pocket of his lab coat, and so long as Lizardon was with him then he would never, not ever be alone. But the corridors of BF felt weighted with an oppressive, yet somehow omniscient, silence, as if despite the lack of another soul or any security cameras that he could spot, his every move was being observed by some mute presence he couldn’t see. Alan hastened his pace through the corridors, and was careful to move on the balls of his feet in an effort to muffle his footsteps.

While the corridors of BF matched the corridors of TF, the rooms were another story—or at least, the room containing the chimeras was another story despite how the maps hadn’t seen fit to mark any sort of distinction between them. The moment he stepped over the threshold into the chimera holding room the motion sensor lights flickered to life, revealing a room that was three times the size of any of the rooms above. The floor and walls in this room were comprised of concrete, not unlike the stockrooms of most retailers, and while there were long, metal tables in the center that held various instruments, charts, and other equipment, the main point of interest in the room rested in the cells that lined the walls.

“Cells,” Alan thought, was putting it gently. “Cells” was the word that the Aether Foundation had used in its documents describing the containment facilities for the chimeras, but the structures that lined the walls from the doors to the very back of the room were better described as cages. Each individual cage reached floor-to-ceiling, and while the width of the cages wasn’t as impressive, it at least didn’t look as if most of the chimeras were being crushed by the size of their prisons. Each cage had solid metal walls on either side, but the doors that faced the center of the room were barred. It was for this reason that Alan was able to get a glance at each chimera as he passed by its cage, at least as much as the light in the room would allow. Bright though it was, most of the chimeras had pulled away from it the second the lights flickered on, and now cowered at the very backs of their cages as he passed by their doors. They weren’t entirely silent—he heard claws scraping against metal flooring in some of the cages, could hear labored breathing coming from others, heard feathers rustling in some and the sound of tails accidentally thumping against bars in another—but not a one of them so much as sniffed in his direction as he passed. Maybe he was biased, but he thought the silence sounded an awful lot like fear.

He made it to the middle of the room before he crouched down in front of one of the cages to try and get a better look at the chimera contained within. He had chosen the cage at random, but the second he laid eyes on the creature inside it, he felt he had made the right choice. He couldn’t pin a name to this particular chimera (though thinking back over ‘cc.xsml’ again, he thought Type: Ignis was as good a guess as any given the red and orange markings), but that didn’t matter very much to him. What did matter was that the chimera was, like the others, huddled in a trembling ball of fur and scales at the very back of its cage. But as terrified as it looked, it also looked pained. The eyes that gazed at him from the shadows were glazed over, pitiful looking with the way its ears were pressed back against its skull and its snout rested on large, scaled forepaws. The light couldn’t reach the chimera very well, but Alan could still tell that it was having difficulty breathing. Setting aside the way each breath stuttered through its body like an engine struggling to start, he could hear a whistling wheeze through its nose every time it inhaled. Alan moved a little closer to the door, and when he did a weak whine escaped the chimera’s throat. Alan felt his heart splinter.

“Hey,” he whispered, and he poked his fingers through the bar of the cage. The chimera didn’t move. “It’s all right, I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help, I promise.”

The chimera lifted its head, and after staring at him morosely for a second, slowly started to drag its body toward the door of its cell.

“That’s it,” Alan said, and he gave the chimera an encouraging smile. Its snout (so much like a growlithe’s, even if its eyes were all houndour—he’d recognize eyes like that anywhere) wiggled as it sniffed him out. “You can do it. Just a little farther, all right?”

“And just who the hell are you?”

The second the new voice—loud and sharp as it was—cut through the silence in the room, the chimera leaped back to its original position with such speed and force that the entire cage rattled. It wasn’t the only one; so many chimeras jumped at once that the room was suddenly full of the sounds of bodies clashing against metal and startled, pained yelps. Alan himself jumped to his feet and whipped around to face the door, his fingers snapping into fists as he eyed the person who had spoken.

The man who had entered was at a point in his life that Alan felt was best described as either “mid-life crisis” or “pretentious to the point of embarrassment.” Though he was dressed in all white as most Aether Foundation employees were, the man’s excuse for a lab coat had a collar so large that it flared up to reach the back of his head on one side, and drooped so ridiculously on the other that the end of it touched his ribs. His glasses were not much better. Though the shape of them suggested they were supposed to imitate laboratory safety goggles, that was just it: they held the appearance of safety goggles, but none of the practicality. Lurid green and huge though they were, they weren’t nearly secure enough on his face to actually shield his eyes from harmful liquid or debris. About the only thing they succeeded in doing was drawing attention away from the man’s obviously receding hairline.

But as ostentatious and overall awful as the man’s appearance was given his position within the Aether Foundation, that wasn’t as important as his identity. Going based on the employee list Alan had looked at before, the man glaring at him from the doorway was none other than the branch chief of the Aether Foundation—a man named Faba. Alan didn’t know the specifics of every one of Faba’s responsibilities, but he was smart enough to know that it was unlikely he would be able to bluff the branch chief into thinking he was a newly hired employee. At the very least, he wouldn’t if he tried to be too specific about it.

“No one in particular,” he said, and he slipped his hands into the pockets of his lab coat as he turned away, palming Lizardon’s pokéball. The room was large, but with the tables in the center he didn’t think Lizardon would be able to battle comfortably. Still, better safe than sorry. “Just a researcher, passing through.”

“Is that so,” Faba said. He strode into the room, the door swinging shut behind him, and Alan locked his jaw as the chimeras tried to squeeze themselves against the backs of their cages as Faba passed. “That’s funny, because this isn’t exactly a place most people can pass through. This tends to be more of a place you get to deliberately. A place you go through on purpose.”

“Really,” Alan said. He made a show of looking at the other cages, and kept his tone as light and casual as he could. “Imagine that.”

“Yeah. Imagine it.” Faba’s tone was tart, and not at all amused. That was fine by Alan; he wasn’t feeling very amused himself. He looked back over as Faba walked along one of the center tables in the room, and noted that Faba had not once looked away from him. “Imagine my surprise when I went to access my user account to get some work done and found someone else was already logged into it. Imagine my surprise when I finally got in and saw how many documents had been open recently—documents that, prior to tonight, hadn’t been touched in months. Imagine my surprise when I saw the warp panel activate not ten minutes after that.”

Alan pretended to consider it for a moment before he said, “I imagine that must have been pretty shocking.”

“It was.” Faba smiled, and maybe it was the fault of the glasses, but it didn’t look like his smile reached his eyes. “But as shocking as all that was, I think I’ve got a pretty good grasp on the situation now, Sonny Jim. And seeing as how I do, I can tell you one thing you’re not, along with two things you are, and one you’re about to be.”

Given how very obviously busted he was, Alan thought Faba probably did have a good enough grasp on the situation—at least a good enough one to make it likely that the Aether Foundation enforcers had already been alerted to his presence, and were likely waiting outside the doors to arrest him as they spoke. There was a very good chance he was going to have to fight his way out of this situation, and he was incredibly thankful now that he had the foresight to copy the Project Alkahest folder onto his PokéNav Plus when he did. If nothing else, it would make it easier for him to plead his case when the Aether Foundation no doubt turned him over to the police. All the same, Faba wasn’t arresting him immediately, and Alan had to admit that he was a little curious about where Faba was going with his taunts. So rather than release Lizardon immediately, he said, “Oh? And what would all of those things be?”

Faba snorted. “Well, for one, you’re not ‘just a researcher, passing through.’” Faba affected a mocking voice that he clearly thought was supposed to be an imitation of Alan’s, yet Alan thought sounded much more like a vocal caricature of a teenager. “You’re a snot-nosed smart-ass, but you’re sure as hell not a researcher of any kind. I don’t care what costume shop you pulled that lab coat from.”

“Excuse me,” Alan said indignantly, “but I’ve been employed as—”

“And as for what you are—well, that’s one of the things. A snot-nosed smart-ass who somehow found his way in here, but sure as hell isn’t going to find his way out, which leads me to the second thing you are: sorry. And as for what you’re about to be?” Faba smacked his hand against the bottom of the table, and a series of metal clicks rang through the room as the barred doors in front of the chimera cages swung slowly open. Alan spun around to watch each door open, though none of the chimeras within moved an inch. “Well, given the time of day, I’d say you qualify as a very light breakfast.”

“You’re joking.” Alan turned back to glare at Faba, whose leer didn’t fade even as he pulled something from the pocket of his flashy coat and put it to his lips. “These chimeras aren’t in a fit state to do anything, much less attack me. They’re either sick or injured, and they’re definitely scared. Whatever you’ve done to them, they—”

A sudden cacophony erupted from the cages. On instinct Alan clapped his hands over his ears to try and muffle the noise, even as he looked around in time to see most of the chimeras scramble from their cages, hackles raised and tails lashing, feathers and fur puffed in clear agitation. Their eyes were bright, wild; several staggered as they exited their prisons and most were breathing heavily, but all of them had their hungry eyes pinned on him.

Alan whipped back around to face Faba as he demanded, “What did you do to them?”

“I just told them it was dinnertime. Breakfast. Whichever.” Faba laughed, and returned the item—the whistle, Alan realized now—to his pocket. “As far as they’re concerned, you’re just a meal passing through, Sonny Jim. And by the way, I recommend you start doing that. Passing through, I mean. Moving. Running. Or you’re about to be a whole lot sorrier than I at first gave you credit for.”

Alan looked back to the chimeras—and, specifically, to the one he had been reaching out to before. It stumbled toward him, breathing hard, saliva dripping from its mouth. He reached out his hand toward it, palm up, slowly, gently—

The chimera lunged, fire lacing around its fangs, and it was only by virtue of the reflexes he had drilled into himself during his years in Lysandre’s service that he managed to yank his arm out of the way just before the chimera’s fangs connected. But that one attack was the trigger; as a mob the rest of the chimeras pounced toward him, snarling and crying out in various degrees of aggression and distress; and Alan, knowing that there was no room for Lizardon to fight all of them and no chance for him to calm them down without fulfilling Faba’s sadistic prophecy, spun on the ball of his foot and bolted for the door.

The right way back to the warp panel was to hang a left out of the chimera room, take another left upon reaching the end of the hall, take a right at the end of that hall and then enter the second door down on the left. Alan knew this—he could visualize the map in his mind’s eye, still, and even if he had been unable he remembered enough to retrace his steps. But none of that mattered as he threw himself through the doors and—in a moment of blindness where his only thought pertained to putting as much distance between him and the voracious chimeras pursuing him as possible—made a sharp right and sprinted down the hall. It was a stupid, stupid decision, and one he regretted the second he made it and realized what he had done—but then, it hardly counted as a decision, hardly counted as a thought as he ducked beneath a Flamethrower that avoided singeing his hair off, but succeeded in blasting against the wall at the opposite end of the corridor and making the chrome paneling glow bright red as it partially melted. He skidded to avoid crashing into both the wall and the newly heated piece of paneling and made another hard right down the next hallway, the chimeras scrambling over themselves and each other as they hastened to follow, barking and snarling and yowling in agitation, hunger, and rage.

But he wasn’t dead yet. He could still make it back to the warp. Not the way he had originally come, no—there was no way to make it past the chimera pack, and not enough room for Lizardon to comfortably fight against them (and not enough time, either, for him to stop running and form a strategy for the too-narrow corridors that would let both him and Lizardon escape a battle like that unscathed). He could still visualize the map, even as he took a left at random to avoiding leading the chimeras around in a semi-circle that would likely end in a dead end (literally) for him. If his position on his mental map was accurate (and gods, he needed it to be accurate), then the T-shaped intersection they were coming up on led to a storage room on the left, and the arena on the right. There was another set of doors on the other side of the arena that would loop back around to the wing of BF that housed the warp panel. If he could just make it through the arena—

Rather than turn, Alan dodged to the right and spun the second his foot made contact so that he could bolt for the set of double-doors at the end of the hall that led to the arena. The half-second longer he spent running straight at the wall rewarded him; the chimeras, not anticipating his dodge out of the way, crashed into the walls and tripped over one another as they attempted to untangle from the pile-up they’d landed themselves in. The distance between them widened, and Alan ran hell-for-leather at the doors, the motion sensor light above them flashing green as he came within range and causing the metal doors to slide open—

Alan threw himself across the threshold, and the moment he crossed it the door slammed shut behind him. The chimeras who had succeeded in separating themselves from the pack quickly enough to charge after him were a few seconds too slow; they crashed bodily into the door, their howls of pain, confusion, and fury audible even over the sound of flesh and bone meeting steel. Nothing short of relief flooded Alan at the sound, but even as he took a second to catch his breath and thank whoever had designed the facility that the motion sensor apparently had a delay (or that the door locked after recognizing an entrant), he still felt a pang of sympathy for the creatures on the other side.

He had no intention of being their breakfast, but that didn’t mean they deserved to suffer.

Now that the chimeras were no longer three steps from devouring him, Alan took a minute to survey the room he found himself in. When he had first noticed the arena marked on the map, he had assumed that it would be a battle arena built to League regulations: concrete or steel rectangular walls, and a floor that was either hard-packed dirt or concrete as well to give the pokémon that battled on it good traction and even footing. The floor would be unmarred save for the regulatory boundary lines that marked where each trainer was supposed to stand as much as they marked the center of the field where the pokémon would duke it out. It was true that the Alola region didn’t function under the League system, but the moment Alan saw that they had an arena within the BF section of their facility, that was the first assumption that sprang to his mind and he hadn’t thought to dash it.

But rather than a battleground that would stand up against League regulations, the arena Alan found himself in was massive, pure white from floor to ceiling, and rounded. The walls curved and combined with a domed ceiling (or what little Alan could see of it, anyway, given how the very top of it was shrouded in shadow) to give the room a spherical appearance. Windows lined the walls on the left side at the base of the domed ceiling; the windows were too high up for him to get a good look through the glass, but from what he could see they looked like the windows to a spectator room of sorts, not unlike the one Lysandre had watched him from at Fleur-De-Lis Laboratories during the mega evolution gauntlet. His throat suddenly dry, Alan tore his eyes away from the window, and looked to the opposite side of the room instead. There was, as the map had shown, a set of doors on the other side of the arena; but what the map hadn’t bothered to mark was the cavernous opening just to the right of the other set of doors, inside of which Alan could hear guttural breathing, and—before he could so much as take a step across the room himself—slow footfalls so heavy that each one made the room quake.

Alan stood, frozen, for just a second. The footsteps—for that was what he knew they were, somehow, even if he didn’t know how he knew, and even if he didn’t want to know that despite how he did—were slow and rhythmic; his pulse timed itself to them, each thud in his chest painfully in-sync with each pounding beat against the floor, but as his heart pounded in his ears, Alan could hear it beating the same word into his brain again and again: Run. Run. Run!

His nerves were on fire as he pushed himself forward, starting across the room at first a brisk walk, and then an outright jog. Even if it wasn’t set up the same as a League stadium, length-wise it was still about the same size, and so even though he forced himself into a sprint to match the hastening footsteps of whatever behemoth was emerging from the opening by the exit, he only made it halfway across the room before the creature finally stepped out from the maw of its cave and reared not one, but three gargantuan heads in the blindingly bright lights of the room.

The beast—no, chimera, it was another chimera, he was sure of it—was at least as tall as Primal Groudon, if not taller. Like most of the other chimeras Alan had seen, this one was quadruped; its massive forelegs resembled a pyroar, whereas its hind legs were closer to that of a houndoom. Each of the chimera’s three heads was an odd cross between (if he had to guess) an aerodactyl and a tyrantrum, and it had a tail that looked nearly as long as the chimera was tall, and about as robust as Prism Tower. The chimera was covered, from its back all the way down its tail, in what looked like metal plating; but as it crossed the room to stand between Alan and the doors on the other side, Alan saw the steel shift and catch the light. Rather than a solid plate, it looked more like a coat of quills.

As it emerged from its den, the chimera plodded over to stand between Alan and the exit. With how languidly the chimera moved, it might have been coincidence. For just a moment, Alan could believe that perhaps the chimera wasn’t blocking his exit deliberately. Perhaps, if he asked nicely, the chimera might even let him pass without a fight.

But once it stood before the exit, its tail slowly swishing across the floor to thump against the wall hard enough to make the room rattle despite how casually the chimera had flicked it, all three heads turned to him. Three sets of eyes, all six of which were an odd mishmash between reptilian and avian, focused squarely on him. And as Alan stared up at the beast that only had eyes for him, one of the heads began to raise its hackles over yellow, pointed teeth.

On instinct, Alan walked backward until his back hit the doors that he had entered through. The chimera pack on the other side had either left or gone entirely silent; not a peep could be heard from them through the steel. Unfortunately, the door didn’t open, either. Either the motion sensor had broken when the chimeras had body slammed the door, or the door was perma-locked from his side. Either way, with his original door locked and refusing to budge, the only exit was the one the three-headed chimera was guarding. That meant that his only options were to either get past the chimera or die.

Alan took a deep breath, and glared straight back into one of the chimera’s faces as he reached in the pocket of his lab coat for Lizardon’s pokéball.

The idea of sending Lizardon against the chimera was not one that thrilled him, but he had no intention of dying without a fight.

Lizardon appeared, as he always did, from a shower of light within the pokéball. He wasn’t small by any stretch; he grew bigger by the day, at least to Alan’s eyes, even if Manon insisted that she couldn’t tell a difference and that he was “as big as ever.” But although Lizardon was far from tiny, he looked it standing before the chimera, which easily towered over him and sniffed two or three times in his direction once he materialized on the field. Lizardon stared right back up at the camera, holding its gaze for a long moment, before he twisted around to look back at Alan. Alan didn’t need Lizardon to utter a sound to understand the ‘are you saying what I think you’re saying’ look he was receiving. He nodded, and Lizardon flattened his horns against the back of his head.

“I know,” Alan said, “but we only need to distract it long enough to get to the door on the other side. If we can get it to move, we can get out of here, but we’re going to have to fight to do that. Will you fight wi—”

Lizardon snorted, sharp and annoyed, cutting off Alan’s question before he could ask it. Despite the situation, Alan smiled as he stowed Lizardon’s pokéball back in the pocket of his lab coat, and clutched the Key Stone around his neck in a tight fist.

“Right. Thank you. Get ready, then.” Lizardon turned back to face the chimera, but Alan kept his eyes on Lizardon as he otherwise focused on the pendant in his palm. “Key Stone, respond to my heart. Surpass evolution—mega evolve!”

Lizardon roared as radiant light emanated from their matching necklaces, and his scales turned from vivid orange to inky black, his eyes shifting from bright blue to dark red. Brilliant blue flames burst from his mouth, matching the flame that now topped his tail, and without waiting for a cue from Alan he gave his wings several strong beats to push himself into the air, trailing smoke behind him as he arched up toward the chimera’s left-most head. All three heads were focused on Lizardon now, their eyes following his every movement through the air, and Alan flexed the fingers of his left hand.

“Lizardon! Dragon Claw!”

From: To Devour the Sun, ch. 5, “The Point of No Return”