OKAY I GOT A CRAZY THEORY THAT SOMEONE PROBABLY ALREADY CAME UP WITH BUT HERE GOES
I DON’T THINK LONG-HAIRED SHIRO IS THE REAL GOD DAMN SHIRO
LIKE OKAY THE WHOLE THING IS SHADY TO BEGIN WITH.
so i was just finishing the last episode and i randomly thought of that pic of matt and shiro that kimiko glenn (the va of Pink Galra Lady) posted on her ig story. now stay with me here.
shiro’s unnaturally long hair
so when “shiro” wakes up, we see he has long hair which wouldn’t make sense considering the timeline. we don’t know exactly how long this takes place after the last episode of season two but considering the diplomatic meeting that takes place in episode one was the first time they tried to unite after the battle, it couldn’t have been that long.i believe that they made him look ragged and beat up to make him believe he was gone for copious amounts of time. therefore further encouraging him to find his team faster.
the “second” shiro we see being tortured
unless shiro had some crazy ptsd flashback possibly triggered by being back in the hands of the galra (although entirely possible) seems a bit unlikely. i think this shiro we see being tortured is the actual shiro. i believe they may have used og shiro to make a potential weapon/infiltrator. they may have essentially hacked his being to transport all the things that make him shiro into this clone of him. even including his own will to fight against galra. i mean they gotta make him believable enough to fool the team.
operation kuron and stage three of it being underway once “shiro” escapes
i just think it’s TOO SHADY that they let him leave and then state that “stage three is underway.” they wanted him to escape. even if this is the real shiro we have no idea what they did to him. i believe they built him to have this reaction but once voltron had rescued him, they would activate whatever the fuck they did to him.
the black lion sensing his distress but shutting down on him once he got close enough
now this is the part that got me because i didn’t know how the hell the black lion could sense a fake shiro and believe it was him, but that just proves how believable this shiro can really be. don’t worry, the black lion saw right through him once he tried to pilot her. that’s why she wouldn’t budge for this shiro. not because keith has this bond with her but because no matter how accurate this shiro is, the galra can never truly recreate the bond the real shiro worked so hard to create.
and last but not least
why the fuck shiro was acting so normal after almost dying like five times
now this is what really convinced me this wasn’t the real shiro. we all saw how damaged and defeated he looked when keith was talking to him in his room. he was not ready to face the team after nearly dying literally five times. we all know shiro is the one to act like nothing is bothering him because he’s the fearless and mature leader of voltron but he was truly defeated. he was nearly caving in on himself when keith was talking to him. and for him to walk out of his room no less than what seemed like maybe 10 minutes; clean-shaven, hair all cut off, dressed in his normal attire and with a positively bright attitude after the scene beforehand? it just seemed so unbelievably impossible to me. i believe that once keith left the room, the galra somehow activated whatever they did to this shiro to create him into what we have now. i don’t know what they’re planning on using him for but i don’t trust him, and i don’t think y’all should either.
TL;DR the shiro we have now is a clone that the galra made as some secret weapon/infiltrator and i don’t trust him
I debated whether or not to even post this. This was more just to cheer myself up since the past month has been rougher than normal, hence why art has been a little lacking the past week.
I had a couple health scares worse than they normally are. I’m ok now, just a little shaken. If nothing else, drawing this made me feel a little better and I did like how it came out, so have some encouraging chibi Vaard.
Sometimes it’s hard to explain to people how I simultaneously love girls so freaking much but also have internalized lesbophobia that makes it harder for me to view myself in a loving and committed relationships with a woman because of society’s fetishization of lesbians and wlw to the point where being with a girl just feels like I’m part of some kink to get straight men off
Every year the Russian Team does a bar crawl. It’s a tradition now. They all have T-shirts that have Yakov’s face on the front (Above the word Фелстман bolded and underlined) and, on the back, a skater’s name in large bolded font below an alphabetized list of every skater Yakov’s ever had in much smaller text. They get new T-shirts every time someone new is added to the roster, so usually every year or two.
They change the T-shirts to include Yuuri, and also to change Viktor’s name to his married name. Yuuri has no idea that this is even a thing until he walks into the rink one morning to see Yuri skating around with a pile of bright purple T-shirts in his arms.
“Yo, Katsudon,” Yuri mutters when he gets to him, flipping through shirts distractedly. He’s almost a normal person this early in the morning, before the vitriol has settled into his bones for the day. “So your stupid husband didn’t tell us what size you are, but you wear his clothes all the time anyway and since you have the same last name it was just less complicated to order two of the same size. Here.” He drops them so quickly that Yuuri almost overbalances to catch them. He’s halfway across the rink by the time Yuuri straightens back up, making his way towards one of the Juniors who Yuuri thinks might be named Katya.
“Ooh, the shirts came in,” Viktor says happily when he catches up. He takes one and holds it up to the light. The picture of Yakov on the front is…not exactly flattering. “Wow! They look even better than last year! Purple is a much better color than green.”
“What am I looking at?” Yuuri demands, staring dumbfounded at his own T-shirt.
“Yakov, of course,” Viktor says happily. He flips the shirt around. Yuuri startles at the giant, bold
Кацуки-Никифоров on the back. Viktor scans the smaller text (Which is, weirdly enough, in the shape of a skating boot) and says, “Ah, here you are.” Yuuri leans over.
“Yeah, that’s…definitely my name,” Yuuri says, brows furrowing. Юрий Кацуки-Никифоров. It is, of course, right next to Виктор Кацуки-Никифоров. He’s familiar enough with the other skaters’ names to realize that the small text is Yakov’s roster. “Um, why though?”
“I’m not sure!” Viktor says happily. “I came here after it started! I’ll go put these in our lockers. Start warming up please, Kitten!”
Viktor skates away. Yakov’s face seems to wink at him, over and over again, from where Viktor is clutching the shirts by his hip.
“After WHAT started?” Yuuri demands to the room at large. Nobody answers him.
Viktor eventually does explain what they are for, the afternoon before the bar crawl itself. He also shows Yuuri the dozen past bar crawl shirts he owns. The passage of time is indicated by the growing shirt sizes and Yakov’s hairline. Yakov had almost a full head of hair when Viktor first joined the roster.
“Does Yakov know about this?” Yuuri mutters, staring at the shirts in awe.
“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Viktor says. “Lilia makes the shirt orders for us. It’s the only reason she’s not on the shirt too, honestly.”
Every single day, Yuuri is more and more amazed that Yakov Feltsman has not taken to the Siberian wilderness to live in seclusion and blessed silence.
I was running a 5e one-shot wherein the players were officers under an airship captain. During one engagement, the druid shifted into a small animal and hid in the captain’s bag, as circumstances limited the amount of people they could obviously bring with them to an encounter. They got into a fight, the druid shape-shifted without leaving the bag first, and the poor captain was then down one bag.
The airship was currently parked in an impoverished fishing village, so the druid didn’t have a lot of options.
Druid: I search the town for someone who can make me a new bag for the captain.
DM (me): Alright, roll investigation. (He rolls moderately well). You find an old woman sitting on a rocking chair, spinning yarn. She appears to be somewhat of a craftswoman.
Druid: I approach and say, “Hello, Hag! I require a bag”.
DM (me): Uh… do you say exactly that.
DM (me): *Rolls an insight check for the woman to see how much she’s insulted, rolls low* Ok, she takes it as a light-hearted greeting and answers “Alright deary, I’ll have it ready in three days.”
Druid: “But I didn’t tell you…”
DM (me): “I’ll have it ready, don’t you worry.”
Party Cleric: That bag’s going to be soooo cursed.
Three days later
Druid: I go back in the morning for the bag
DM (me): Alright, you walk to her house and find her on her porch, knitting a sweater
Druid: “Hag! I have returned for the bag”
The rest of the party is between laughter and trepidation at what she gives him.
DM (me): The old woman goes back into her house, and returns with a normal leather bag. She holds it out to you.
Druid: Arcana check?
He rolls well
DM (me): Inspecting the bag, you find out that it’s completely normal. Glaringly normal. Almost excruciatingly normal, this leather bag.
The party then spends the next ten minutes freaking out over a completely mundane bag, before giving it to the captain. He wonders why they look so nervous after he takes it, but doesn’t bother to ask.