“I Would Bring You Rings Of Gold, I’d Even Sing You Poetry!”

Stanley?

2 posts in one week? Must be a miracle.

Anyways i love stangst (you have absolutely no idea how much they mean to me, especially this show)

Please for the love of everything don’t comment on the arm or hand

Im way too tired to even think about it right now and I cannot for the life of me do Anatomy (pls some one spare me a little of their talent 😘)

Anyway! Enjoy pls

Love ya

As always art is by me ————————> @sillyboycam

Echos

Keith disappeared months ago.

At first, they had assumed that Keith had impulsively gone on a mission alone, or was just taking some time away, forgetting to leave a note. Nobody wanted to believe that he chose to leave. Or worse: something happened that prevented him from returning. But as days turned into weeks, it was getting harder to keep up hope.

Lance was convinced he was fine, despite the evidence building against him. If something had happened to Keith, he would know. He couldn't articulate how he would know, but was just certain he would. But that certainty was beginning to run thin.

It started with Red.

With Keith missing and them unable to form Voltron, they were forced to make some moves. They began talks about interviewing someone else to take up the mantle of the Red Paladin. And that's when Lance first felt a pull towards Red. Like she was reaching out to him. Lance forged a new bond with Red and Allura took his place with Blue. Things were far from smooth sailing, but at least they had the power of Voltron back.

Lance was shocked how different Red felt. Blue was easygoing and encouraging. But Red was feisty, goading, almost critical. Something about her unsettled him. Like she observed every movement he made with the quiet indignation of a backseat driver with duct tape slapped to their mouth. Always watching. Always judging.

Sometimes, he would feel her calling out to him in the middle of the night, her urgency awaking him from sleep at times. But when he would go to the hanger, she would put up a wall as soon as she saw him.

He talked to the rest of his team about it. He had assumed that everybody had a bond similar to the one he had shared with Blue. But Red was so different in his mind, like the wrong puzzle piece forced into place by sheer pressure. Maybe all the Lion's bonds were unique to their pilots. But it nobody could quite understand, saying of course it was different. It was a whole different Lion, they were sentient creatures. Looking back he should have known they couldn't get it, seeing as he was the only one to have had a bond with two Lions.

Still, he did his best to bond with her, even if he didn't really like to.

And then, when he felt like he was finally getting used to the strained, almost antagonistic connection, even weirder things started happening.

Voltron assembled and clearing out a blockade, a warship sent out a druid-powered blast that could end them for good and Lance...hesitated. From his distrust in the bond or his own fear, he didn't know. But it didn't matter because a pair of hands closed over his on the controls, guiding his movements. He and Pidge managed to form a heavy-duty shield with the help of their bayards, saving their skins. And like that the contact was gone, like it was never there. Like it never happened.

What was that, girl? Lance asked through his bond.

Red did not reply. Not that he expected her to.

But for some reason, in that moment it made him bitter. Things had not been so difficult with Blue. Are you done monitoring me from the shadows? Are you finally ready to tell me what you want from me? Look, I'm sorry I'm not Keith. And I'm not exactly happy about this situation either. Please believe me that we are doing everything we can to look for the smug bastard and get back to how it should be.

Red growled audibly, the meaning clear in his mind.

If you love they guy so much and think his bond was so much better, why don't you find him? Use your lion magic to hunt him down and bring him back.

He felt a wave of anger and hurt before Red withdrew from his mind.

*   *   *

Red rarely opened up to him after that, despite all the time Lance spent with her in the hanger, trying to make this work. But it seemed like the harder he pushed, the more she shied away. He missed how easy it had been with Blue. As natural as breathing.

But as quiet as Red was, she mentored him more and more with her ghostly guidance. Hands on his. His head turning of its own accord. A solid presence at his back. At times he swore he saw a flash of red armor. Like the remnants of the ghost of King Alfor echoed within the cockpit.

Maybe this was just how Red operated. Less talking, more doing. No wonder she and Keith had hit it off so well. They were on the same wavelength.

Maybe he had been approaching this all wrong. Maybe instead of trying to force a connection, he should just focus on getting used to her presence. He started spending his spare time around her, scrolling though his phone, or studying Altean. Just existing with her.

His efforts began to pay off when one day he was lazily lying across her muzzle, on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, feet kicking in the air as he mindlessly flipped through a comic book. He heard it, clear as day, as if spoken right next to him.

"You call this a bonding moment?"

Lance snapped the book closed and looked around wildly. There was no way he imagined that, the way it jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Keith?" He asked. Because it had been his unmistakable mellow voice that he had heard at his ear.

He rose to his feet and placed his hand between Red's vacant, lightless eyes. Then it hit him.

"You're still bonded to him," Lance realized. "That's why you won't let me in."

Red had multiple bonds? That shouldn't be possible, but it sure explained a lot. And if that was true, then—

"You've known where he was this whole time."

*   *   *

He didn't know how to tell the others. That this whole time Red knew where Keith was. Not like they'd believe him either, since for some inexplicable reason Red was refusing to divulge his whereabouts. He didn't understand why she had to be so difficult. Their whole team was off kilter, the common denominator being Lance's shaky bond. Even Allura and Blue seemed to take to each other like a fish to water. Everything would flow so much better once Keith was back. Didn't she want the same thing?

Maybe he was hiding from them. On purpose, and Red was helping him. But for what reason, Lance could not comprehend. Other than Keith was obviously her favorite.

Now that Lance knew Keith was still connected to Red, he began to find more and more traces of him in the weeks that followed. That constant condescending gaze he felt when piloting Red? Turns out it was the mullet all along. The phantom grasp that corrected him at the controls? That was Keith reaching across space and time to coach his mistakes. In fact, every beef he had with Red turned out to just be Keith pushing back against him.

Sometimes when he slipped up at the controls Lance swore he heard an all too familiar snigger over his shoulder. Asshole.

When they were out on a particularly dicey mission that required them to use their individual strengths to avoid heavy fire, Lance had no option but to dodge, weaving this way and that in the hairiest dogfight of his life. He was doing his best, gritted teeth and brow furrowed in concentration, but he was still getting the hang of Red's speed and response to the lightest of touches. It wouldn't be long before he made a mistake and--

Keith leaned over him and grabbed the controls. And they were zooming with the precision of a threaded needle.

When they had found some cover, Lance muted his comm from the others.

"What the hell man?"

Keith was there. But he wasn't. His eyes saw an empty cockpit. But in his mind Keith was just as present as if he was standing over him. He could feel his body heat. And was that 3-in-1 shampoo tickling his nose?

Keith didn't respond, eyes tracking the enemy ships and waiting for a chance to pounce.

"I know you can hear me, I hear you all the time. What are you playing at? Where the hell are you?"

"Right here."

It sure sounded like he was right there.

Lance brought his hand up to his opposite shoulder before swiping down. Like a samurai sword his hand cut through Keith with no resistance.

Keith stiffened and gazed down at him with a stinky side eye.

Lance held up his hands. "Just trying to figure out how this works."

"How do you think I feel?" Keith snarled. "Stop screwing around and let me do my fucking job!"

"You'd do your job a hell of a lot better if you were actually here!" Lance snapped back.

Keith ignored him.

Lance was livid. Squinting he poured all his energy into his bond with Red, and subsequently her connection with Keith. He reached out. If he just focused hard enough...

He tugged on a lock of Keith's hair.

He felt the strands between his fingers. But then Keith hissed and Lance's focus wavered, and he was left grasping nothing but air.

"주을래?¹"

"No. I want t—"

"Then let me focus on saving your ass."

Lance grumpily obliged, sitting back with a pout.

Wait. How did he know what Keith was saying? It was like the meaning was instantly clear in his mind. Did their connection to Red also bridge language barriers?

He had more questions, but when the imminent danger passed, Keith faded from sight. Whatever. He had a mission to finish anyway. But the prickly feeling on the back of Lance's neck told him that Keith was still there, watching.

¹ do you wanna die?

*   *   *

Lance was having an easier time with Red's bond. Now that he understood that Keith was running interference (intentionally or not), he could feel where his connection with Red ended and was able to focus on just her energy. She was actually quite affectionate, but still ferociously protective whenever he tried to probe her for Keith's whereabouts.

Keith never showed himself except for extreme danger, in which cases he got them out of whatever scrape and promptly vaporized again. However, as Lance was getting better at the controls and his trust in Red was deepening, Keith's assistance was needed less and less.

That didn't stop Lance from asking the empty cockpit why. He knew Keith could hear him.

"¡Coma mierda y muera!²" he shouted one day in a fit of frustration.

"It's a bit late for that," a bitter voice answered.

Lance whirled around. Keith was leaning against the door, arms crossed, the corners of his mouth set at an odd angle.

"It's never too late to curse your guts, you fucking deserter," Lance accused.

"Funny, I don't recall enlisting."

"Just tell me where the hell you are!"

"I told you. I'm right here."

Lance never swore so much in his life.

"It's not like I can do anything about it," Keith admitted sourly, studying his boots, when Lance stopped just long enough to gasp for air. 

"What do you mean by that?"

"You haven't figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out? That you're an asshole? Sorry but I knew that the instant I laid eyes on that stupid mullet."

Keith snorted, "Sure."

Lance never wanted to hit somebody more. He tried, but he wasn't focused enough and his hand passed through the unaffected paladin. "Just you wait. Once I get Red on my side, I'm hunting you down and dragging your sorry ass back."

Keith actually smirked. "Looking forward to it."

² eat shit and die

*   *   *

It was several days later when Lance dropped his toothbrush in the sink as he swung his elbow around at the figure he saw lurking behind him in the mirror.

Keith raised an unimpressed eyebrow as Lance failed to make contact.

Oh great. Lance had assumed his moody shadow was confined to the cockpit. "How are you here? I thought you were tied to Red?"

Keith shrugged. "I'm connected to Red. Red's connected to you."

"So you can just...drop in whenever?"

Lance didn't care for this new development. He wondered if it was the first time Keith had followed him out of the hanger, or if it was just the first time he could see him.

"Looks that way," Keith glanced around the bathroom before his eyes locked on a small vial on the sink. He reached out a finger to knock it over. He passed right through it. Lance snickered as Keith's features scrunched up in frustration.

Keith rolled his eyes, arms folding back into place on his chest. "You haven't told anyone."

A statement, not a question.

Lance picked up his toothbrush and finished brushing his teeth, foam forming in the corners of his mouth ask he tried to put his reasoning into words. He spit. "Would they be able to see you?"

"Doubt it."

He figured as much. But it was still a blow to hear his suspicion confirmed.

"They already think I'm crazy, having such a rough go of it with Red and all." A thought occurred to him as he looked down at his hands. "Oh, actually. Maybe I am."

"You're not."

"That's exactly what a hallucination would say!" Lance argued.

"Who are you yelling at?" Hunk knocked on the door.

"Nobody!"

It was true enough. He looked back in the mirror and Keith was gone.

*   *   *

Keith popped up more and more, and it took Lance by surprise every time. Usually, when he was alone, and was free to interact. But every now and again he would catch a glimpse of him in the doorway, looking on wistfully as everyone was gathered hanging out in the rec room. Either way, he never stuck around for long.

Once, over a particularly rowdy game of charades, Lance caught Keith's eye and patted the empty seat next to him. It was chaotic enough that nobody would notice if Lance was a little distracted.

Keith shook his head once, melting into the shadows.

Lance huffed and volunteered to grab more snacks from the kitchen.

"What is your problem?" he hissed at the figure in the hall.

"What isn't?"

Fair point. Whatever. He stalked to the kitchen and snagged the snacks, gathering them under one arm, leaving the other free. On his way back to the rec room, intention clear in his mind, he grabbed Keith's wrist and yanked him along before he had a chance to react.

It wasn't until Lance was halfway across the room that he started to put up a fight. But Lance had the momentum and was running with it. He succeeded in dragging Keith to the den of couches, but Keith would not sit. He just stood there, his hands balled into fists. But he did not run away or disappear.

"I miss everybody," he admitted after the games were wrapping up. It was the longest Lance had seen him stay.

"Then come back," Lance whispered without moving his lips.

"I can't." The abject longing on his face was low-key kinda pitiful. Lance was starting to believe Keith's insistence that he would come back if he could. But if Keith was unable to return on his own, then why wouldn't he tell Lance how to get to him?

He'd asked the mullet plenty of times, but every time Keith would get a far away look in his eye and clamp up. Then Lance wouldn't hear a whisper from him for a week. He learned to stop asking.

*   *   *

Lance was in bed when he shot up.

Wait a second. The two of them, they were connected to Red. And Keith was always finding him. So what was stopping him from doing the same and finding Keith?

The answer was simple. He never tried.

Lance sat cross-legged on his bed, elbows out and palms flat on his knees as he closed his eyes and concentrated. Reaching out for that tether that bound Keith to Red, following it until he—

"What are you doing?" Keith's voice was sharp.

Lance opened his eyes to find Keith sitting across from him on the bed.

Well, that didn't work. How did Keith manage to sneak up on him all the time? Most of the time he didn't even know he was there until he caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye. But all he managed to do was summon him, apparently.

"Looking for you."

"I keep telling you, I'm right here."

"¡Cállate!³ It's like you don't want to be found!"

The expression on Keith's face told him he was right.

"Why? You won't even explain yourself, and you run away whenever I ask, so how am I supposed to understand?"

"누가 너한테 이해하라고 했어?** I'm not coming back. Get over yourself and accept it!"

Lance threw his pillow at him. It passed right through. 

³ shut up ⁴ who told you to understand?

*   *   *

"You summoned?" Keith asked, cuttingly. 

Lance was bent over a stall, looking at earrings. He held up a pair in each hand. "Yeah! Quick, which do you think are better, the blue or the pink?"

"Excuse me?"

"Which are better?"

"Neither suit you."

"No mames!⁵ For Allura you ass!"

Keith leveled him with a long look, his hardened expression complicated. 

"Lilac," he said finally, pointing to the delicate pair with stones cut in a way that made it look like they were dripping flowers. 

"Thanks," Lanced thanked the empty air. 

⁵ stop screwing around

*   *   *

Lance took a deep breath. He much preferred diplomacy when the other party was already inclined to their side. It was a little different when a planet was tolerating their presence at best. Allura, thankfully, would be doing most of the talking, and she looked stunning as she always did. He smiled when the light caught her earrings. She was wearing the ones Keith and picked out for her.

Allura caught him looking and she offered him an encouraging smile. Being the Red Paladin, Lance had a speech he was supposed to deliver after Shiro. Normally, he thrived on the attention. But with the vibes being what they were, he was really nervous. This was an extremely formal affair and that just wasn't Lance's style. He was sure he would mess it up, make a stupid joke, get flustered and stumble on his words, or otherwise just make the team look bad.

Keith would have aced this. He should have been the one giving it anyway, instead of his hasty fill-in.

"Breathe, Lance."

He barked a laugh, causing Shiro to look over in concern. He played it off as a cough. "Choaked on air," he waved off before whispering, "Easy for you to say."

Keith placed a hand on his shoulder. "할 수 있어.⁶"

⁶ you can do it

*   *   *

As Keith's presence continued to haunt him, Lance found that he began to mind it less and less. He found himself scanning the room, to see if Keith had come out. He didn't appear every day, and there seemed to be no limit to the amount of time he spent with him. Lance wondered what he could be doing that would leave him free to pop in so much. 

Sometimes the lack of privacy was annoying. Like now when he was curled up in bed, sobbing from his despair.

He had saved a family today. And they looked so happy to be alive, to still have each other. It stung a part of his heart that he tried so desperately to ignore. He had kept it together all day, but collapsed under the weight was soon as he was alone. 

Or as alone as he could be. 

"Is there no escaping you?"

"There's nowhere you can go that I can't reach," Keith's voice begrudgingly confirmed.

"How about I just die?"

"I'll be waiting."

*   *   *

Lance knew what he wanted. He just didn't know if he could.

He reached out slowly. He wanted to give Keith fair warning to react. To say no.

But Keith's eyes steadily held his as Lance gently cupped his cheek. He was warm, like he always was. And when Keith closed his eyes and all but melted into his touch, Lance's heart leapt.

He leaned in.

If Keith didn't want this, he could always go incorporeal.

Warm lips met his own, soft and sweet. Lance smiled, eyes closing. Like this, surrounded by the smell, feel, and taste of him, Lance was starting to believe that Keith was telling the truth that he was there. 

Keith bit his lower lip, startling him and making lose focus. Suddenly he was grasping nothing and the warmth dissipated.

He whined in frustration, opening his eyes. At least Keith was still there, flushed and smiling.

"Looks like we need more practice," Keith laughed.

*   *   *

Years passed, and as Lance slowly started to carry it in small lines on his face, Keith remained the same, Unchanging.

To be honest, Lance had known the truth for a while. He just didn't like to think about it. Or what it meant.

That Keith would never return. That he would never be found.

Because there was nothing to find.

This existence, everlasting and unchanging, kept alive only because Red could not let go. Lance wondered if the same thing would happen to him when it was his turn,

"Whatcha thinking about?" Keith asked from beside him on the bed as his callused fingertips drew lazy circles on Lance's bare chest.

"Mmm, things," Lance murmured.

"What kind of things?"

"Sad things."

"Sad things?" Keith lifted his head to press a kiss to his shoulder. "Like what?"

"Mmm..." he hummed, eyes misty. At first he didn't want to believe it. But eventually he had accepted the truth. But a small part of him was still afraid that Keith would disappear from his side if he voiced it. 

"Did it hurt?"

Keith stilled.

"No," he answered after a long silence.

"Were you scared?"

"Yes."

Lance didn't need to know the details. Keith had died alone and frightened enough that Red had somehow melded his consciousness to her own. He would never be scared or alone again.

"I'm sorry," He whispered as he rolled over and hugged him close, focusing on the feeling of his shaky breaths beneath his hands.

Keith's body may not exist anymore, but Keith was alive, there was no doubt in his mind. And he would continue to love him, whatever that may look like, however the years may change him, until the death where they truly part.

my whumptober masterlist

im not gay greg.jpg

The first sensation is Keith’s voice: “Hey, Lance.”

The second sensation is much less pleasant, and comes milliseconds after the first: a bundled-up wad of something hitting him square in the face, the shock of it knocking him right over.

“Ow,” he says on reflex, even though it didn’t really hurt. Keith snorts.

“I didn’t throw it that hard.”

“You didn’t have to throw it at all,” Lance grumbles, reaching down to grab the projectile. When his hands make contact with worn canvas, he freezes. He glances down at the fabric with wide eyes.

His jacket.

Did Keith —

No. He couldn’t have.

Right?

“Hey,” Shiro says, nudging Lance gently. “You good, buddy? You’re looking kinda pale, all of a sudden.”

Lance swallows. He can’t tear his gaze away from Keith, who is looking at him in confused concern. So is everyone else. Shiro places a hand on Lance’s shoulder, asking him if he’s okay again, but it sounds faint and distorted, like everything’s far away.

“Excuse me,” Lance blurts, then runs out of the room. He doesn’t slow down until he gets to his bedroom, throwing himself on the bed and spreading out his jacket in front of him with careful hands. He runs his palms over the fabric, over and over again, until the texture of the pitted canvas ripples and changes into soft seal fur.

He bites his lip. He can’t believe — his pelt. He’s become careless. When they first came to space, Lance wouldn’t even take the pelt — disguised as his green army jacket — off his person. He even wore it to sleep. Partly for the comfort of home, but mostly because he was terrified. Terrified he’d lose it, somehow, in the vastness of space, and never be allowed to return home. Never see his mother, or his siblings, or feel the cold currents tickling his flippers as he chased around his nieces and nephews. Never listen to whale song again, never tease the dolphins, never poke and prod at octopuses. Never nap in the heat of the warm sun as he dries off.

Never be himself again.

But over time, he learned to trust his team. Not with his secret — not yet — but enough to admit bits and pieces, press fragments of his experiences into their hands. The exhilaration of swimming with sharks that swarmed near the island. The welcoming feeling of home in the ocean. The freedom of speeding through the waves. Small things, quiet things, but truths to him nonetheless. He eventually worked up the courage to even part with his pelt, briefly, in training, or eating, or simply bonding. Found the strength to set the jacket out of arm’s reach.

Perhaps the choice was foolish.

Because now his second greatest fear has come true — he may not have lost his pelt, true, but he is now bonded in eternity with another. When Keith handed Lance his coat, he unknowingly claimed Lance, as a prize and as a mate.

A feat of fate and magic that cannot be undone.

His grandmother whispered stories of this to him, when he was a child. As the sun set on the waves, lighting them aflame, she pressed stories of other selkies who’d been careless with their pelts into his skin — selkies who’d left their caps for sailors to steal, left their coats to dry where dangerous fishers lay waiting. Selkies who’d been tricked by corrupt kings or wooed by charming men, only for those men to steal their pelts and sell them to lands far away. Even now, the terror he’d felt as a child — of losing such a huge part of himself to a stranger — had never left. What would he do if some selfish human took his coat? Even if they returned it to him eventually — he’d always be bound to them. Should they move him away from the seas, he would have no choice in the matter. He would never truly be free again, should a human hand him his coat.

Sometimes, late at night, when he was already anxious and knew only how to make it worse, he’d imagine such a future. A future where he’d carelessly leave his coat unguarded for someone to pick up. To take it for themselves, or even just hand it back to him from where he left it. A future where he was a slave, then, to their whims. That future terrified him. The mere thought would make his heart pound and his blood race and his fingers clench together. Chained to another, he’d think. What a horrible fate.

But he was chained, now. He was Keith’s, in all forms. As a human and as a seal and as a selkie, he belonged to the other man. He belonged no longer to himself.

The notion didn’t scare him like he thought it would. Despite the bonds now tying him together, he did not feel trapped, like he expected.

“Lance?” A knock on the door startles him from his thoughts.

Speak of the devil.

“Are you okay, man? I didn’t mean to hurt you, with the jacket. Did you get a zipper to the eye, or something? I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lance says. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Cause you don’t sound fine, really.”

“I am.”

Lance holds his breath. If he strains his ears, he can hear Keith’s gentle breathing from behind the door, the quiet rustling of his clothes as he shifts slightly.

“…Can I come in?”

Can Lance even refuse him? For all the stories his grandmother told him, he doesn’t actually know the logistics. Is it possible for him to refuse a request from Keith? Does he have any autonomy, outside his own mind?

“No,” he says, to test it. He squeezes his eyes shut, prepared for — for anything, really. Excruciating pain. A burning sensation, perhaps for his pelt to shrivel into scraps.

But no pain is forthcoming. The only thing that happens is Keith’s simple ‘okay’ from behind the door.

“Could you come out, then? We’re all kind of worried about you. You were really pale.”

Now that Lance knows he’s allowed to refuse Keith, any fear left evaporates.

He’s safe. It’s okay.

“Actually, I changed my mind. You can come in. It’s open.”

Keith doesn’t hesitate before opening the door, but he steps in the room cautiously.

“What happened?”

Lance bites his lip. What did happen? What can he say, to make this make sense?

The truth?

“It’s…strange,” Lance says eventually. “The story.”

Keith steps closer. “I don’t mind strange.”

Lance looks closely at Keith’s face. He looks — determined. Brow furrowed, arms crossed, mouth set in a deep frown. Once, Lance thought this expression was judgemental. He’s since learned that Keith simply suffers from a resting bitch face.

“You know how you’re not human?”

Keith snorts, his frown smoothing into a look of fond amusement. “I do remember that, yes. Kind of hard to forget.”

Lance grins sheepishly. “Right.” His grin vanishes as he tries to figure out how he can even word this properly. “It’s — I’m not sure how to say this.”

“Hey,” Keith says, closing the distance and sitting next to Lance on the bed. Unknowingly, he sits in between Lance in his jacket, one hand on the hood, making himself into a metaphor of the situation Lance has found himself in.

His pelt, no longer attached to him, but to Keith.

“It’s going to be fine,” Keith continues, putting a hand on Lance’s thigh, just above his knee. The touch burns. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll figure it out. Lance and Keith, neck and neck, remember? I’m right with you.”

Lance smiles tightly. Keith has gotten much better at comforting people.

“I’m not human.”

He’s afraid to look at Keith. Afraid to see the expression, there, the potential rejection. After all, they’ve known Keith isn’t human since their first couple months in space.

Lance has hidden this from them for so long. How could anyone on the team be anything but angry with him?

“Well. I can say with certainty that I didn’t see that coming, somehow.”

Lance braves a look at Keith to see him looking shocked, certainly, but not — angry. Not betrayed.

“I’m a selkie.”

Keith’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“I was expecting that even less.”

Lance laughs, but it’s empty.

“That’s, um. That’s not the worst part.”

Keith’s eyebrows climb even higher. “What is the worst part?”

“What do you know about selkies?” Lance says instead of answering. To his credit, Keith rolls with the slight subject change.

“Uh, part seal, part human, right? Human unless you’re wearing your coat, wherein you become a seal?”

Lance nods. “Pretty much. What happens — do you know what happens if a selkie loses their coat?“

“Then you can’t become a seal, right?”

“And we’re exiled from the ocean and our families, yes.”

Keith grimaces. “Jesus. You still have your coat, though, right?”

Lance stares at Keith’s hand, still on his thigh.

“That’s the thing,” he says.

Keith looks at him in alarm. “You lost your coat?!”

“No, no, I didn’t lose it,” Lance rushes to reassure. He bites his lip. “Well, not exactly.”

“Lance, what happened?”

Lance takes a deep breath. He might as well come out and say it. “‘Losing’ our coats is a very loose term. It can really be anything from genuinely misplacing it, or briefly setting it down. It isn’t always a problem — obviously I can’t take my pelt everywhere — but if someone were to find my coat, or pick it up, then it would be lost to me. They would own it. And by extension, own me. Kind of, anyway.”

A look of dawning horror descends on Keith’s face. “Today. In the common room. I threw you your jacket.”

Lance takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Lance, I’m so sorry.” Keith looks ashen. “Fuck, Lance, is there any way to undo it?”

“It’s not — it’s not that bad,” Lance says.

“It’s fucking horrible, Lance!” Keith grips his hair tightly, looking at Lance with wide, guilty eyes. “I didn’t — I took your pelt away from you!”

Something about Keith’s panic makes Lance calm. Suddenly, he feels completely at ease.

“You didn’t know, for starters. Besides, I actually… I think it might be okay. Really. You know the stories where sailors intentionally steal selkie’s caps so they’re forced to marry them?”

“Yeah, Lance, I do! And now I’m the jackass sailor!”

“No, you’re not,” Lance says firmly. He grabs Keith’s hand and grips it tightly. “Listen to me, okay? The sailors in the stories — they did it on purpose. They had the intent to hurt and control their wives. It’s the same in all my grandma’s stories, too — any selkie who has their pelt picked up by someone else is bound to their will, and it’s always a tragedy for them.”

“How is that helpful, Lance? How is that good?”

“Listen to me,” Lance repeats. “Did you try to trick me?”

“No.”

“Did you intentionally steal my coat so I was bound to you?”

“No.”

“Do you want to forbid me from seeing my family ever again so I am forced to stay with you?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Then I think we will be fine, Keith. You’ve already returned my pelt to me. As far as I can understand, the only thing is —” Lance blushes. “Um, the only thing that changes, I think, is that we’re married, by selkie standards. I am bound to you, fatefully and magically.”

Keith blushes, too. “Oh.”

“And I tried refusing your request, earlier, and it was fine. I’m not stripped of my free will, or anything.”

“Oh.”

The silence sits between them for several moments. Lance isn’t quite sure what to do next. He definitely didn’t plan this far ahead.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Keith says. He tugs Lance’s hand, which Lance realises right then is still very much entwined with Keith’s and has been for the last who-knows-how-long. “Let’s go.”

“Settles what? Go where?” Lance asks, even as he follows Keith. He grabs his coat with his free hand, following Keith out the door.

“Well, we should get human-married too,” Keith says matter-of-factly. His face is still red, but his eyes are set and stubborn, and he looks as determined as he does for every mission.

Lance makes an embarrassing squawking noise.

“What?”

“It’s not fair that we’re only married by your standards,” Keith insists. “If you’re going to be my husband, we’re doing things all the way. We’re going to get human married. Well, as human-married as we can be, in space. I’m pretty sure Shiro is ordained, and I’m positive Hunk could make us some rings —”

“Keith, hold on a damn second!”

Keith finally pauses, looking back at Lance and seeing his horribly red face and general air of mortification.

“We can’t just — we can’t just do that!”

“Why not?”

“That’s not —” Lance’s mouth snaps shut. Now that he’s actually thinking about it, for a second, it’s really not a horrible idea.

Except for one problem.

“I don’t want you to be stuck in a marriage with me because of a stupid magic spell outside of your control,” Lance admits quietly. “It’s not fair to you. What if you fall in love for real, someday? But you’re stuck with me?”

Keith softens immediately. He tugs Lance close to him, putting a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Lance,” he says. His eyes are soft — loving, even. “I don’t want to marry anyone else. Ever.”

Lance feels tears pricking at his eyes, but he’s not sure why. “You don’t — you don’t know that. I’m a mess, Keith. Why would you ever want to be tied to me?”

Keith’s thumb runs gentle lines over his cheekbone.

“I have been tied to you for as long as I can remember,” he whispers.

Lance swallows. “That can’t be true.”

“It is. For as long as I have known you, I have been drawn to you. Everything you do, I have wanted to be a part of. Lance —” he smiles wryly — “I followed you to space. My fate was entwined with yours the moment we argued in the Garrison detainment facility. There’s no getting rid of me.”

Lance laughs — a broken, teary thing, but a laugh just the same. “You really want to fall in love with me? Are you sure?”

“Baby,” Keith whispers, leaning so close Lance can feel the heat of his breath, “I’m already halfway there.”

There’s a certain finality Lance feels, when Keith finally closes the distance. Like a string finally joining two ripped pieces together.

Lance kisses him again, just to make sure the pieces stay.

🎶Our love, is a bubbling fountain... Our love, for eternity

Сгори дотла моя вселенная

Из темноты ты ты ты ты ты

Russian tiktok trends eeeee

NOOOOO NOT THE “I WISH YOU WERE A GIRLL”

some stufffff xpp‼️

I bet Silco could reach Vander inside Warwick. I bet Silco would trust to remember him ad not fight back.

In my restless dreams, Silco and Vander!Warwick got to meet

In this scenario Silco would have to survive being shot and would go into hiding aka go back to their little hideout. He did not see this one coming, though

sorry mcr followers pls don't mind my night at the museum art post i'm just very excited for the new movie tomorrow and i miss these idiots so much

Hello, I'm from Gaza City because of the war,my house was destroyed. We lost everything,my family and I did not have anything left. We left our homes in search of a safe place and we were displaced three  times to different places to survive, but unfortunately there's no safe place in Gaza. My mother is very sick and she's a kidney failure patient in need of treatment outside. She suffers from LS. Help me and my family to survive. Please, your small donation can make a huge difference. A friend outside Gaza has come in to help me run the donation program so that my mother can be evacuated

!!!!!!!!