part one
———
Hearing his boyfriend’s voice on that radio call, as staticky and panicked as it had been, had made Lance cry. Hunk and Pidge had looked at him in mild concern — they were definitely relieved too, but no one else reacted like Lance did — but he’d paid them no mind, letting the teams stream down his face and desperately thanking any gods that had answered his prayers. He could feel Red’s relief overwhelmingly in his head, mirrored only by his own.
But none of that raw feeling, none of the pure alleviation of grief, compares to the feeling of finally watching Keith’s ship touch down in the hangar after months of fear. He doesn’t bother waiting for the craft to power down, sprinting towards it so fast he’s not even sure his feet touch the ground. He’s halfway there when the side door slams open and a black and purple clad blur comes sprinting out, meeting Lance halfway and slamming into him so hard it would hurt them both were they not wearing armour.
“Oh, God,” murmurs a voice Lance has not heard in person in half a year, clutching him tightly, one arm squeezing his waist and the other wrapped around his head, pressing him into Keith’s body, nearly suffocating him.
Lance doesn’t care. He’s gripping Keith just as tightly, hands almost clawing at his shoulders in a desperate attempt to prove to himself that it’s real, Keith’s real, he’s here and he’s alive and safe and they’re together, again, finally.
“You’re alive,” Lance sobs, barely even managing the words. He struggled to breathe over his choked words, barely remembering to inhale and exhale and keep his heart flowing. All he thinks is Keith Keith Keith Keith Keith, all he feels is solid armour and thick hair and the wet of Keith’s tears on his skin, the press of Keith’s lips to his cheeks and brow and temples as he kisses anywhere he can reach, as desperate to touch Lance as Lance is to him.
It takes Lance time to catch his breath, to convince himself that Keith won’t disappear if he pulls away, if he loosens his grip. Even still he tells his hands to move, his arms to hold less tightly, and they don’t listen, drunk off the need to clutch Keith closer.
He finally manages to pull himself away; not far, nowhere out of Keith’s reach — not that Keith would let him — but enough to finally see his boyfriend’s face. See his strong nose and thick brows, his wild hair and dark, clear eyes.
He looks like home.
“You’re taller,” Lance croaks, realizing for the first time that he has to look up significantly to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.
Keith laughs wetly, bending down slightly to rest his forehead to Lance’s. His eyes close, but Lance can’t yet follow his example, can’t manage to tear his gaze away lest he wake up to find he’s dreaming.
“I hope that’s okay,” he says wryly. “I know that two inches was ever so important to you.”
“Stick around for a bit and I’ll tell you how I feel,” Lance quips back, watery smile the most genuine he’s had in months. “Asshole.”
Keith chuckles again, so softly, and the sound makes Lance shiver, so much better than through a screen or not at all. He slides his hands into Keith’s hair, relishing in the feel of it again, and angles his head, leaning closer and finally fluttering his eyes shut.
“I’m so glad you’re back, Willie Nelson,” he murmurs, so close that their lips brush with every word. So close that he feels Keith’s huff on his own skin, breath warm and sweet, somehow.
“I haven’t seen you for two years and that’s the most affectionate name I get, huh?”
Lance frowns. He pulls away to look at Keith in alarm, eyes wide and brows knit. “Two years? What do you mean, two y—mmf.”
Keith’s gloved hands are warm on his cheeks, and his lips are so familiar, the tilts of their heads and the slide of their noses as they sink into their places, into the action they’ve done thousands of times in thousands of different ways distracting him from his concerns.
He has Keith again. He has Keith again. Regardless of how long it’s been, he has Keith now, in his arms and pressed against him, body warm and skin chapped and smelling of pine and sandalwood, somehow, still. Lance can’t help but sink into him, forget anything and everything else. Nothing else is as important — not Voltron, not the universe, nothing. Lance already put them first for months. He gets to be selfish, now. He gets to choose himself, and choose Keith.
Finally.
“Okay, I think a what the fuck is in order.”
Keith pulls away.
“No,” Lance whines, reaching up to try and pull him down again. “Ignore them. They can figure it out. Context clues. Come on.”
Keith indulgently leans back down to press a quick and chaste kiss to his lips, then pulls back away. “We’re on a time limit. I got distracted.”
Lance fights down a smirk, well aware he isn’t very successful. He slides one hand out of his boyfriend’s hair and down his neck, his collarbones, resting flat on his chest. He blinks his eyes rapidly, letting his pupils get bigger so they almost swallow the brown, tilting his head up — he can work with this new height thing.
Keith wants a distraction?
Lance is excellent at distracting him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Keith pleads. “I’ve been stuck in space for two years, baby, I only have so much restraint left.”
Someone clears their throat from behind them. Lance glances over Keith’s shoulder, fully prepared to tell them to fuck the hell off — Lotor and Allura are just fine on their Oriande thing, Lance deserves a single fucking minute of Keith all to himself — but does a double take when he fully registers to person next to the pod Keith flew in.
He narrows his eyes in shock. “Is that your — did you disappear in space and find your fucking mother?”
Keith snorts. “Nothing gets by you, huh.”
“Keith,” the woman says, before Lance can speak any further. “The problem at hand? That holds the universe in balance?”
“Oh, shit, yeah.” Keith startles like he’s just remembering, pulling away from Lance enough to face the rest of the team, although he still curls a possessive arm around Lance’s waist, hand hot on his hip.
“Lotor is evil. And we’re all in danger.”
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The similarities between Julius Caesar’s assassination and the Ides of Marsh are well documented in fandom. It’s also generally agreed that the fall of the Night’s Watch will mirror the fall of the Roman Republic, which was quite ironically brought on by Caesar’s death. But I never see it acknowledged that Julius Caesar, some time after the establishment of Octavian’s Augustus’ rule, became deified (meaning that he was worshipped as a god or to put it bluntly, Julius Caesar ascended to godhood).
What does this have to do with Jon Snow? Well, apotheosis (1, 2) is one of the most important stages that comes towards the end of a hero’s journey. Here, the hero reaches some higher level of understanding or personhood, and this allows them to complete the hardest trials still to come in their journey. We see mental changes, but these could also be accompanied by physical changes. A good example of this in high fantasy is Gandalf’s death and return as Gandalf the White. In other myths and stories, we can point to the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In ASOIAF, we have mini versions of this with Bran Stark and Jojen Reed, two children who experience life or death situations but came back with heightened magical power (Bran especially).
Jon Snow is currently at his “journey to the underworld”/“belly of the whale” moment, where he is to (presumably) face his greatest trials. Apotheosis usually comes after this stage (and is often preceded by other stages such as the “meeting of the goddess” and “atonement with the father”, both of which could very well appear in Jon’s journey as he learns of his true identity and purpose).
But what would apotheosis mean for Jon? That’s the key question. He is sure to experience profound mental changes and trauma, but these are sure to be accompanied by great magical changes that manifest physically. In the same way that Bran came out of his coma and started his journey as the last greenseer (well, once Bloodraven kicks the bucket), Jon is sure to come out of his death experience a far more powerful being. The thing is that Jon needs to change into the hero Westeros needs and the magical act of dying and coming back to life should play a role in that.
However, it won’t all be fine and dandy for him. GRRM has criticized Gandalf’s return where he seemingly came back to life better than ever with no great effects. In the same way that Jon is literally experiencing a descent into the underworld (a step that is sometimes figurative for many modern heroes), we can also ascertain that he will experience a very literal ascension into godhood (or the closest thing we have to that in ASOIAF). But magic always comes with a price. And whatever sort of “god” Jon turns into post-resurrection, he won’t be a very pretty one.
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alright im here to ask about spg (feel free to skip questions if you don't know/already answered them/don't feel like it)
moon pies with Little Birdie, ice cream from Ice Cream Man or a quick snack of petrol with Airheart?
there are other space whales beside Jumbo, but he seems to be the only one who talks. do you think he was born with that ability, got it with his job or do other whales just not have anything to say?
also what's the deal with Coinsley. you know anything about Coinsley? (I've just seen one or two photos of him i think)
and this is a free space to bestow your thoughts of dr Babclock upon us since you've been rotating him in your head for quite some time. it can be canon, fanon, actual cannon. go wild :]
1. Ice Cream Man for sure! I mean, if l had to choose who I wanted to eat with I'd probably pick Little Birdie because I'd love to bond with a bird like that. And Little Birdie probably doesn't talk so I don't have to worry about that. But the fact that Ice Cream Man is literally a superhero because of his ice cream. It probably tastes stupid good. Also, icecream cones are basically the only thing I know for sure I can start eating, and then finish eating. I'm a slow eater y all.
2. I like to think it was like a prophecy or something. Only a few select space whales will be granted god-like abilities in their field. And there are multiple types. Jumbo was selected as a guardian, but there are also like, other ones. I can’t think of any but you get the idea
3. Coinsley is Rex's tax attorney. Apparently, he's the reason why Rex isn't in jail for tax evasion, but the only source for that I've seen is on the wiki sO... He's also very attentive to road apples.
4. HEEOAH BOY So, we've got more attention on Taggart, but I've come to notice that laggart has actually gotten attention before!
Back when cosplaying SPG characters here on Tumblr was more popular. But Victor is still left out!! I don't know why! Is it because we know nothing about him?? Maybe. But he is very smart. How else could he be leading the Cavalcadium right now? As for other things, I have yet to color those sketches I did, but when I do, don't be surprised if you see a lot of purple. For some reason I see Taggart wearing a lot of purple in his outfit. As for Victor, I think it's more brown, but with accents of purple. Why? I don't know. My brain lied to me and said I saw a canon design for Taggart and for some reason, it's telling me he wore purple so 🤷🏽♀️
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