NEBULAR SKIN.

[andreelliott-deactivated2021030]

Andre Elliott

[suntype-blog]

celestialtype.

             It is moments like this she feels most acutely the WAR forever rioting within her, the desperate sensation of both selfishness and duty, love and goodness and loss.  Because she wants to curl into herself and feel this agony, she wants to fall apart and weep, she wants to bang her fists into the wall and into herself BECAUSE IT ISN’T FAIR!!  It isn’t fair that her mother was taken from her and her father was taken from her and her home and her planet and her people and her solar system and her world AND HER TIME were taken and now HE HAS BEEN TAKEN, TOO.  It isn’t FAIR that the world steals every single thing she has and KEEPS TAKING ANYWAY, and she wants to drown and weep and EXPLODE in the wrongness of it, wants to allow herself the selfishness of breaking, of thinking only of her own pain and ceasing softening herself and her razor - sharp hurt for the sake of other people.  But she doesn’t.  She doesn’t.  She doesn’t.

                            Duty wins out, as it always does.  Love wins out, or something like it ( love shouldn’t feel like swallowing glass ) because she does not drown in her own suffering, a feat she accomplishes through willpower alone.  Because she decides that his hurt is more important than hers, or at least that hers is not important enough to allow him to suffer for.  To allow any of them to suffer for.  ( that is what a princess ought to do.  what a king would do, were he not killed twice over. )

          Perhaps the war is worsened because she knows well that if anyone has right to comfort him, it is not her.  Not her, distant and cruel and acid in her blood, hate too familiar a word for this distrust.  As though something so simple as PLEASE COME BACK TO US can undo her unkindness.  And to her family.  She wonders, idly, if he hates her.  She could hardly fault him for it if he did.

                   “I intend to try,” she says, and does not say not yet.  not this moment.  There is too much rioting in her now, and she has been in Black before — knows the way it feels, the overwhelming nature of what it is.  As much as she is DESPERATE to get going, to find him ( to the stars the moon pleaded, ‘stay’ ) and refill this absent piece of her heart and her self because if she loses much else there will be NOTHING LEFT of her, as she oft feels there is nothing left of her now ———- regardless.  She is desperate to find him but she knows that the lion will not take her now, if it ever shall.  To be in his place, her ribcage collapsing, would be too much like sacrilege.  SHE KNOWS.

                               “But you know as well as I do that trying doesn’t ensure that she’ll let me pilot her.”  Voice is level.  Even.  Some part of Allura finds herself impressed with her own ability not to feel when she must.  As though it is a choice.  ( shock.  she’s in shock.  she hadn’t the time to be, before, with her father and her world.  she almost misses the immediacy of a crisis, because then she hadn’t had the spare heartbeats to think of the way she wishes it were dead any longer than a few seconds at a time. )  

                 Stride takes her past him, and she scarcely glances at the paladin ( hands curling and uncurling into fists one in a subtle and desperate attempt to loosen her lockd muscles ) as she approaches the lion.  Eyes drawing up and up and up.  “The lions refused me when I was young.”  A hand raises, presses gently to the forcefield before her skin; it feels strange.  Like if she pushes just barely harder it might give, but she is too terrified to try.  “That’s no guarantee they will now, but it is a reality we must consider.”

                      Once, when Keith was young, he asked the sky itself ( not the HEAVENS, but the sky, the stars, the entire universe that laid beyond ) to give him back his mother. He asked, in an innocent way that only a child could, for them to return her to him so that she could hold him the way that his father did, so that they could be WHOLE AGAIN, so that his father would not get that sad look in his eyes whenever Keith would inquire after her. That mysterious woman. Later in life, he pleaded with a certain desperation for the sky to return his father to him, to deliver him back to his arms so that he could be held by his father just one more time. So that he wouldn’t be alone anymore. So that he felt LESS INSIGNIFICANT to the universe, begged and pleaded for them, for it, to give his father back to him. Waited for the sky to answer his prayers.

                       He didn’t ask the sky for anything else, after that. Not even once. Not even when Shiro disappeared the first time. Not even then. He had grown, by that point, and perhaps had become JADED over time, and he knew that the sky would not answer him. Shiro returning to him —— that was not the sky returning him, the way that Keith had wanted his parents returned to him, that was the storm with skin that was Shiro. With some help, as they later found.

                       Regardless, he has not wanted to ask the sky for anything in what felt like a LIFETIME. His childhood didn’t feel like his childhood, it felt like something so very distant and far off that he could not grasp it, could only remember it as if he didn’t live it himself. Yet, there was a distant and quiet part of himself, buried far beneath his sense of self, abruptly wanted to fall to his knees and BEG THE SKY ONCE MORE, the way that he did when he was a child. The way he did for his father, the way he did for his mother.

                                         Keith knew that he couldn’t allow himself that, though. He could not. He would not. That would be weakness. That would be a self betrayal.

                         She walks past him and he gaze fixates upon her and she is their LEADER, in truth. Keith knows that he has the ability to lead if he wishes to but he does not wish to, cannot bring himself to wish to. One day, perhaps, one far off day, and in the meantime he can BOW HIS HEAD to her, the way that he acquiesced to Shiro with such ease, the way that he could not bring himself to with his higher ups at the Garrison. It was a matter of respect, it was a matter of getting respect in return, it was a matter of TRUST. He supposes. Does he trust her? As he must. Does he trust anyone at all? As he must. ( being alone for so long as it’s effects, after all. )

                   ❝ They won’t, ❞ Keith is not fond of beating around the bush and often goes with his gut more than he does not, and he knows this the way that he knows his own heartbeat. He knows that the Lions won’t deny Allura, regardless of what happened IN HER YOUTH. He’s uncertain as to whether or not that’s because of their situation, does not know if thinking that makes him a traitor, but they will not deny her. They cannot. Red may, he can feel her displeasure roiling in his mind, but Black will not.  ❝ She won’t, ❞ he adds after a beat,  ❝ I can just —— tell. ❞

[suntype-blog]

MY FAVORITE COLOR IS BLUE. i’m baaaack !! sorry for the unannounced and random disappearance —— i went to go visit my sister and decided to take a general tumblr break whilst i was away. my activity should be going up from hereon out though !!

[suntype-blog]

celestialtype.

           They are both torn —— ripped asunder by the loss of one.  She sees it in him ( the circles ‘round his eyes and the particular twitch of his lips ) because she sees it, too, in HERSELF.  They are alike, she supposes, in so many ways —— they have lost too much, felt loneliness too acutely, and they cling, desperate, to what remains.  And for the both of them, SHIRO WAS WHAT REMAINED.  They are all her family, but of them Shiro was the one she understood ( and in turn was understood by ) the most clearly.  The most sharply.  ( even that could not fall deeply.  you kept even him too far from your tender heart. )

                                    She cannot lose anything else.  She NEEDS HIM BACK, and feels that needing all the more acutely for knowing that her needing means nothing.  The universe is not so kind as to return what it takes from her or from anyone, no matter her desperate prayers or wracking sobs.  She learned that with her mother.  She learned it with her father.  Her world.  But she does not remember, or the galaxies do not see that she does, and so it teaches her time and time again TO LOSE THE THINGS YOU LOVE.  Worse.  The PEOPLE you love.  

                                                          It never stops aching.

        They are both torn, and she sees it in him because she knows it in herself.  The sleepless nights and missing him and desperation, desperation, desperation.  And so, padding to meet him, she is slow and soft and gentle in her movements and herself.  His words do not surprise her ( though whether that is because she had expected them or because she is too exhausted and numb with loss to feel anything at all, not even she can ascertain ) and she stops a few steps behind his left shoulder, long arms shifting behind her back.

                                “———— You may have to,” is what she says, finally, though there is no conviction to the syllables.  They are one pilot short regardless, and she seeks to try once more — but she does not WANT black, even if it would take to her.  Because how would it feel to REALIZE A DREAM only because the one who ought to have it is gone?  The sensation will come regardless, but all the sharper if it is HIS LION she must join.  She would push past it, though, if it meant THEY MIGHT FIND HIM.  “There are few in the galaxies who are able to pilot the lions, and Black is more discerning than most.  If I cannot — if I cannot pilot her, it may take quite some time to find another who could.”  Eyes lower, lips twisting for a moment.  “The Lions are our best hope for finding Shiro.  And we will find him.”

                    They are TORN and he knows because he watches and because he sees. Allura has a mastery of herself, of her emotions, of keeping everything at a particular distance and that is something that he acknowledges. Something that he understands. He is the opposite, he often cannot hold his emotions at bay, often cannot manage to keep them under wraps. He does not care to think of himself as EXPRESSIVE but rather impulsive. When he feels, he Feels, and that is an unavoidable side effect of his personality itself. People can read him like an open book if he is not careful and he is not often careful, truth be told. He knows that.

                     Perhaps between the two of them, their torn pieces can be compiled into something WHOLE. Or something that a poet would write and other things that Keith cannot fully and truly put into words.

                       All of them miss Shiro. All of them are desperate for his return. Keith is not so arrogant ( in his waking moments, at least, when he is not consumed with rage at the UNIVERSE ITSELF for doing this to him again and again and again ) to think that he is the only one effected. But he does know that he is the only one to lose Shiro TWICE. To lose him when he had held him close to his heart. let go let go let go let go his mind had whispered during those months that he had spent alone, in the middle of the desert, searching for answers. Lost.

                       And again he feels alone and lost but he knows that he is not. Knows that there are others to support him, if he so wished. But he cannot release the shackles which chain his heart and his soul and he cannot BEAR THEM TO HIS TEAM, he cannot even stomach the thought. A part of him cannot comprehend such vulnerability, such a thing that he had not even properly achieved with Shiro himself. Keith is a solitary person, a loner, he does not turn to others and has never been prone to the habit. Perhaps if he allowed them to support him, he would be more whole, but that is a perhaps, a maybe, an if. if only he were different.

                       The two of them are TORN and they are strangely similar, though Keith does not care to analyze the reasons as to why. His body shifts, leaning back, leaning subtly towards her, hovering. He does not turn to look at her, still. Keeps his gaze focused. ❝ Of course we’ll find him, ❞ he says, jaw setting and voice going vaguely dark, determination sparking inside of him. One day his sparks of determination will catch on his gasoline blood and he may burn away but so long as he finds Shiro FIRST. Well, he can’t say that he particularly minds.

                  ❝ But if I take command of the Black Lion, Red wouldn’t have a Paladin, ❞ she won’t take anyone else, he doesn’t say, because he can FEEL THE WAY SHE’S SCOFFING at the mere idea of Keith leaving her to pilot Black. His jaw works and his thoughts slow, a careful sort of deceleration. He considers his words, rolls them in his mind, upon his tongue, considers them. Knows that he is speaking something that is close to the truth, but knowing that they are words that must be said. ❝ I think that YOU should pilot the Black Lion. ❞

[suntype-blog]

alteanlight:

@suntype replied to your post: I saw a woman so beautiful I started crying?I…

this reminds me of that one time i was leaving the bathroom and ran into a girl who was ethereally beautiful and i stuttered a sorry and she laUGHED MUSICALLY and then i went and sat in the hallway for like. 10 minutes.

oh god….i feel you….one time a girl with green eyes n freckles tried to get me to sign up for greek recruitment and i almost did it. i almost joined a sorority out of thirst. she smiled at me and i had to sit down.

there was also This One Time when i was working in a clothing store and a girl with lovely blonde hair and one of the prettiest faces i’ve ever seen came in and asked me to help her choose clothes and zip up the dresses she was trying on and it was. a Struggle. i think i told her she looked amazing three times and that she was beautiful once. she even insisted on helping me put stuff back and i insisted i didn’t mind and i was genuinely sad i never saw her again.

[suntype-blog]

when keith can’t sleep he absolutely goes to red and tries to fall asleep inside of her, i’m just saying, okay. and yes, i consider red female, let me rest.

[suntype-blog]

@celestialtype

               Though he will not fully acknowledge it, he has become worn. Tired beyond recognition. More tired than he can even REMEMBER. It’s as if his soul is unsure what to do with itself and so he is grappling at the jagged edges of his very being, of the patchwork mess that resembles his identity. There are few people that he has allowed into his little world, few people who have any weight on his being —— so many things feel SO INSIGNIFICANT to him that sometimes he just forgets, because he has learned to only keep the things that are truly important close to him. Close to his heart. Few things stay near him. Fewer people stay near him. Keith does not remember many of his classmates from the Galaxy Garrison and it is not out of malice or arrogance that he forgets them, it is just one of many ( perhaps bad ) habits that he had formed over the years. don’t hold onto people so tightly.

                            Shiro, though. Shiro he REMEMBERS, Shiro he has always remembered, Shiro he holds close, Shiro changed everything.

                                                                         And so he is gone.

                  Fate is unkind and the universe is cruel and he feels BEREFT, standing before the Black Lion, remembering the words that Shiro had spoken to him. I want you to lead Voltron. Well, Shiro, what if he doesn’t want to? What if he does not feel the compulsion to be the LEADER of their strange team, of something that feels horrifically like a family. What if the Black Lion only responded to him, then on that alien planet in what feels like another lifetime ago, because he was DESPERATE. Because its true Paladin was in danger?

                   ( he feels red in his mind, constantly. can feel her pressing, can feel her feeling, can feel her aggression and her impatience and her worry and her EVERYTHING and they are intertwined, inexorably. he cannot bear the idea of parting from her, strangely, and he does not know when this attachment formed but he knows that it is reciprocated, that she has become COVETOUS with him. )

                     So he stares up ( and up and up and up ) at the Black Lion and aches. He does not mourn because he KNOWS BEYOND EXPLAINING that Shiro is alive, somewhere. That he is out there, somewhere in the vast unknown of space. Shiro isn’t dead. Keith thought he died once, and he won’t make that mistake again. The problem is FINDING HIM. He is not in mourning. He cannot be.

                ❝ I can’t pilot the Black Lion, ❞ he says as footsteps come to a pause behind him and he doesn’t turn, doesn’t look away from his point of fixation. There is a part of him that knows that he can, knows that the Black Lion will respond to him regardless, but is that what he WANTS? Not in particular. He does not doubt his ability to lead, but rather what it MEANS. So he cannot. He cannot.

[suntype-blog]

MY FAVORITE COLOR IS BLUE. i’m a slut for pre-established relationships so i’m gonna try this out: PLOTTING CALL !! like this post for me to hop into your ims and try to plot something out between our characters !!

[suntype-blog]

empirebane.

❝ ——- At nothing special, apparently. ❞  it’s said with the biggest of grins and not with an ounce of remorse. in all honesty, he was much more interested in the cat than its owner.  

             ❝ Says the guy who breaks into my place on a regular basis, ❞ his tone is flat and he can feel his cat’s tail wrapping around his neck rather LAZILY and he reaches up to scratch between her ears.

[suntype-blog]

adamancer.

❛  at all costs.  ❜    the echo tolls  LOUDLY  between his lips.  a mantra that he has repeated to himself too many times,  TOO MANY ,  throughout the years.  guilt  lozenges itself into the welt of his adam’s apple.  it leaps high,  pitching low before he can stop it.  he breathes out its aftertaste along with the words,  like condemnation,    ❛  i agree.  ❜

too-long unattended flakes chap at his lips where they spread  &  then part.   cheeks draw in,  &  hollow contemplation  fills the spaces where patchy fur covers.  his jaw stretches,  ticks forward so that he can dip his gaze down.    ❛  it was my  CARELESSNESS  that put your life in danger in the first place.  i could not  …  would not  risk losing a paladin because of  MY  mistakes.  voltron is  TOO IMPORTANT .  ❜ 

            ❝ Yeah, so I’ve heard, ❞ he understands well the importance of Voltron —— there are, evidently, countless legends pertaining it. Pertaining their predecessors. Parents tell their children stories of Voltron to foster a small flame of hope in their hearts in times of strife. It is their DUTY, assigned to them by the hand of fate, to see to it that the universe is at peace. He understands. He accepts that.

                                     A life in exchange for a concept that brings forth light. Some decisions are hard. Some decisions have to be made.

            ❝ What are you doing here? ❞ he knows that he sounds gruff, perhaps overly so, but he doesn’t imagine that GENTLENESS is what is expected of him. He is genuinely curious, a tiny spark that’s buried amongst his internalized war, buried somewhere between his unquestionable relief that Thace is alive and the buzzing of his heart. ❝ Shouldn’t you be —— resting, or something? ❞

[suntype-blog]

❛ hope softens the rough edge of every promise. ❜

A Softer World // @celestialtype

               Hope is a strange and disquiet sort of thing. They, as Voltron, are a symbol of hope for the universe, they are a beacon of light for the planets who have suffered beneath the hand of Zarkon. That is an unquestionable fact supported by the things that they have seen, the beings that they have encountered. Hope has the power to tip the outcome in their favor, has the power to bring a people to their feet, as the power to change everything. That is the nature of hope.

              But sometimes hope isn’t enough. That is something that he has had to witness and comprehend and grasp since he was young and there is no denying that, either. Hope can lead to a rose tinted view of the future, of the situation that lies before you. It can be something amazing, it can be something that leads a people into RUIN. That is an aspect of hope that is undeniable, and he has never particularly been one to subscribe to hope, himself. He believes in action first and foremost, and there are times when actions are bolstered by hope of succeeding, but he is not in the habit of banking his chances on hope. He is determined, for certain, and refuses to allow a negative outcome at all costs, but he does not think that that is a shade of hope.

               Sometimes promises are empty and sometimes hope is empty and what happens, then? Sometimes fate is unkind and sometimes promises and hope can lead to desolation but he cannot deny that there are times when Allura is right. Sometimes, hope softens the the rough edge of every promise. Perhaps it is more often than not, he cannot say that for sure, but he knows and can acknowledge the benefits of HOPE. He can. He truly can.

            ❝ Yeah, it can, ❞ he says, turning to her and his eyebrows furrow, neutrality shifting. He feels that he is the devil’s advocate, at some points, because he has never been one towards OPTIMISTIC THINKING. He is too pragmatic for that, he cannot allow his sense of reality to become distorted by something so tenuous as optimism. ❝ It can’t always, though. I think we have to accept that. ❞

[suntype-blog]

❛ for a long time i thought i deserved better. but the truth is we both deserve better than this. ❜

A Softer World // @lunartype

               ❝ I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say something that thoughtful before, ❞ he says in jest, neutral expression aside, but it occurs to him, perhaps belatedly, that he could have said something else, something that would be more conducive to upholding a moment of RARE QUIET in their relationship. The words had come to him, however, and so he spoke them, and he can’t bring himself to regret it, for all that it may not have been the right words to say.

                    Their relationship tends towards ANTAGONISTIC at the worst of moments and comfortably amicable at the best of them and Keith does not hate nor dislike Lance, and he doesn’t believe that Lance truly dislikes him in return. There is still yet this underlying tension between them, however, something that Keith doesn’t know how to fix. Something that he isn’t even sure that he can fix. It’s not like he can Google how to make someone see you differently when they’re stubborn at this point. He isn’t completely sure of the source of Lance’s apparently inherent need to try to rile him up whenever he can, but he has some ideas and there isn’t much that he can do to change that.

                                        Admittedly, his own competitive streak definitely doesn’t help in that regard. He knows that he’s easily baited, alright?

                       Still, they are something close to friends ( though perhaps they are frienemies or whatever people call it ) and they have bonded, in some ways. It’s hard not to bond when you’re part of a team that’s been given the responsibility to save the universe, after all. They are good together, when it comes to battle, covering the weaknesses that the other has. That much, Keith knows for a fact and can comprehend with ease. Having a FRIEND is strangely novel ( having an entire family unit is bizarre ) but he can’t say that he minds. Friends want the best for each other, don’t they? 

                          Do they deserve something better? What is better? Keith has never considered, not even for a moment, that perhaps he deserves better. Life has given him what it has given him and he has learned to LIVE WITH IT because there is no room to regret. If he were to regret, if he were to second guess, then there would be no room left to breathe. This, he knows. ❝ But ——— why? ❞

[draumers]

a softer world sentence starters.

❛ some people are so good at disappearing that you start to doubt your memories that they were ever there. ❜ 

❛ how do you say goodbye to someone who was never there? ❜

❛ i don’t want a world without pain, or loss. i just want them to mean something. ❜

❛ there are some people who believe a photo captures their soul. ❜

❛ if you love something let it go. ❜

❛ you were not the first, you will not be the last. ❜

❛ there are some secrets i will take to my grave, but i don’t want loving you to be one of them. ❜

❛ you can still back out before anyone gets hurt. ❜

❛ i said i’d love you forever, and really meant it at the time. i guess that’s my problem. ❜

❛ kindness won’t save anyone. ❜

❛ for a long time i thought i deserved better. but the truth is we both deserve better than this. ❜

❛ i wish there was a word that meant “goodbye” for someone who was already gone. ❜

❛ i never meant to hurt you. you have to believe me. ❜

❛ we’ll always have yesterday. ❜

❛ hope softens the rough edge of every promise. ❜

❛ love is stupid. happiness is admitting we aren’t better than stupid. ❜

❛ you can’t always want what you get. ❜

❛ i wish i had a dollar for every dollar’s worth of work i did. ❜

❛ we are empty inside and hollow. hoping something sweet will make its nest in us. ❜

❛ we’re too far from help. ❜

❛ monsters are even more scary when you see them afraid. ❜

❛ we carry our own loneliness with us. ❜ 

❛ fake happiness beats genuine misery. ❜

❛ they always trust me to be someone who i don’t even want to be. ❜

❛ i cannot see where i want to go, only that i want the going.❜

❛ you are never here. you are always almost there. ❜

❛ you and me will die the way we lived, telling ourselves stories to make it mean something. ❜

[suntype-blog]

@verdanted replied to your post: listen. keith laughed hysterically at lollipops on...

ok but i wonder if keith is ACTUALLY ticklish

he’s only ticklish at the bottom of his sides ( near his hips ) and along the curve of his spine but if anyone ever figures that out he’ll have to kill them, probably

[suntype-blog]

listen. keith laughed hysterically at lollipops on hunk’s face. you can’t tell me this kid doesn’t have a weird and almost bad sense of humor. i bet puns just tickle him. okay? okay. glad we’ve reached an understanding.

[suntype-blog]

'hey keith! what kind of bagel can fly? a plain bagel!'

             He stares for a few moments before ——

                             ❝ —— Okay, that was so bad it was pretty funny. ❞

[suntype-blog]

@empirebane

                  ❝ ——— You’re staring. ❞ he isn’t sure if there’s something in his hair or on his face or maybe this has something to do with the cat on his shoulders. Or none of the above.