[ ARCHIVE ] FLYBOY!

' to see if i can ' / a promise to shine

[skysought-blog]

@fasciinating​​ / spock

@skysought  /  liked for a mirror!starter.

it is said, all warfare is based on deception ; however, Spock has little to hide when no one is looking. he traces the room in confidence. quiet, save for the scratch of his fingers at the edges of the conference room table. walking, following, watching along, “ you are looking well today, mister sulu. ” the Vulcan breathes, a scent of sterility finding his nose. fascinating.  “ although, i was certain you were not alone in this room not but an hour ago. ”

prickle, pleasant shiver that runs up spine with the sound of fingers against the table - a different sound to what was heard not long ago ( metal streaks, a promise for blood and a thirst that needed to be quenched - so is their daily life; a target on one’s head for position: number three ). 

his laughter is a low rumble - thunder in his lungs, and a hand moves to run through hair and push the strands from eyes. reflection caught against mirrored surface: a scar there upon his face. one of two that come with promise: never again. a body like a canvas - there against it remain two strokes, and that alone. 

“ we had a conversation, ” sly words, sharp end of a blade hidden still tastes the iron of blood despite the cloth that wiped it clean. disappointment, feigned thing seen with the furrow of brows and small downward curve of lips. a sigh as he leans against the wall. “ sadly, it didn’t last long. ”

[skysought-blog]

@surlymccoy​ / dr mccoy 

         “…. Well..” Leonard grunts, his lid twitching with the tell-tale urge to roll his eyes in response to Sulu’s grin. “— What I say GOES around here. And I say you need t’eat.”

        There was more than just an apple on that tray. Despite being housed in a hastily formed triage center provided by Yorktown’s governing council, McCoy had ensured access to all the necessities for patient care – including meals. The CMO makes a pointed gesture towards the container of steamed broccoli and brown rice, his tone brooking no argument. “… I expect it all t’be gone before you try sneaking yer way off that biobed, Sulu.”

         At least the helmsman seems only slightly worse for wear. The bandages aren’t even technically needed anymore, not now that Len’s got his hands on a proper dermal regen unit. But there is something very…. off… about Hikaru’s bio readings, something the sensors clusters can’t quantify and that creates niggling doubt in McCoy’s mind. He glances at the monitor readings once more, a scowling hinting at the corners of his mouth. It’s almost as though… Sulu’s life force has been depleted. As if every vital stat he has is somehow…. DIMINISHED.

        “……you feelin’ okay, Lieutenant? Tired?”

" --- aye, doc, ” With answer comes the crunch of the apple, sweet against his tongue -- crisp. Though there is that sharpness that cuts like the silent reality - unspoken wound, and though unseen he knows he bleeds. In some sense at least. It’s a feeling he can’t quite shake, something off like the turn of tide, heaviness in the air -- the prickle and the smell of the oncoming storm. Another bite, and eyes move from the man, to the food gestured, to the vitals caught: the lightning before the storm.

He’s pulled from thought, the free hand that had brushed along bandages that hide the barely beaten body stilling. “ Hm? ” he begins, before he chews what’s in his mouth and reaches for a glass of water to help him swallow. A swipe of his thumb catches at the juice of apple against his lips. Attention lifts, eyes locked to read the expression on the doctor’s face. Makes him feel uneasy, though he doesn’t show it with a squirm or shift, instead there’s a stillness: like a deer caught in headlights. 

A smile. He knows better than to evade truths. This is the kind of smile that’s different though, where despite the softness of the curve of lips, the crinkle of crows feet against the corners of eyes don’t quite form. Admission. It’ll have to come out of him soon, anyway. “ --- I don’t know. ” Sulu admits. 

“ Tired I guess. Didn’t really get a lot of sleep. Been switched on for a while now. ”

Bite, another crunch; and this time? The apple seems to taste that little bit less sweet. 

[skysought-blog]

/ SMASH / this heart for affections in your inbox

[skysought-blog]

commander spock / @fasciinating​

he feels Hikaru’s fingers like he does the breeze. light, even mischievous — a warm breath, as it is in his memories, both so quiet & nearly invisible. though, it is there. Spock answers it with a pivot, turning into the sight of a grin, worn brightly, but without its teeth & in gentle persuasion. “ it is acceptable. ” he agrees, the sentiment returned in the smallest of his steps closer. Spock uses his stance to gesture them forward, hands falling to his sides, his eyes following on green grass & root to the base of the tree. a shoulder taps against the curve of another, then Spock stands by degrees. “ more importantly, it is secluded. ”

temptation; clear in the way his bottom lip is licked, how teeth graze against it as he seems to chew the smile. swallow as tactical step is taken back - to close that space between them all the more. it’s a taste of offered warmth - a moment, and only that - before he pulls away to follow gesture. forward step, and the man who pilots for once follows guide.

huff, laughter that small rumble in his chest as arms fold, as he turns - looks up to meet spock’s eyes. mouth parts, tongue darting to coat teeth as temptation flares once again. tongue in cheek, he can’t help it. “ you know, ” and there in the tilt of his chin and faint crookedness of his smile is that moment of play once again. ( oh but his eyes ! soft and warm - pupils dark and that slight bit wide ) “ some people could take that the wrong way. ”  

he dances with his words, but not around the unspoken thing towards them. no, he’d made that all too clear. it’s a coax. a moment more, with body turned, it’s a means of facing spock fully. step back - a little more, and coax again.

[skysought-blog]

Why couldn’t the gardener plant any flowers? He hadn’t botany!

twitch. lips curve - poker face well crafted breaking. laughter suppressed through the exhale through his nose. a lick of lips, fingers running against the table. a small turn of his head. a glance, and then, without misstep, without pause he speaks with a poker face that settles once again. 

“ — you think you’re pretty ferny don’t you? ” 

[skysought-blog]

CHARACTER  TRUTHS.

bold   –   always  ⁄  often italic   –   sometimes

001.   smoking:  the  action  or  habit  of  inhaling  &  exhaling  the  smoke  of  tobacco  or  a  drug.

002.   binge  drinking:  the  consumption  of  an  excessive  amount  of  alcohol  in  a  short  period  of  time.

003.   drug  abuse:  the  habitual  taking  of  illegal  drugs.

004.   nail  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.

005.   lip  biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension.

006.   night  owl:  a  person  who  is  habitually  active  or  wakeful  at  night.

007.   early  bird:  a  person  who  rises ,  arrives ,  or  acts  before  the  usual  or  expected  time.

008.   negative  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  criticism  &  pessimism.

009.   positive  attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  optimism  &  confidence.

010.   swearing:  the  use  of  offensive  language.

011.   superstitious:  an  irrational  belief  that  an  object ,  action ,  or  circumstance  not  logically  related  to  a  course  of  events  influences  its  outcome.

012.  inspecting  fingernails:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  boredom.

013.   scratching  your  neck:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  uncertainty.

014.   foot  &  finger  tapping:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  stress / impatience.

015.   nose  touch:  a  subtle  body  language  sign  of  deceit.

016.   flipping  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  craving  attention.

017.   twirling  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  flirtation.

018.   cracking  knuckles:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.

019.   hands  behind  back:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  confidence.

020.   finger  pointing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  authority.

021.   hands  on  hips:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness.

022.   hands  in  pockets:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  mistrust / reluctance.

023.   frequent  touch:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  warmth / familiarity.

024.   throat  –  clearing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  rejection / doubt.

025.   jaw  –  clenching:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  hostility.

026.   eye  –  rolling:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  irritation.

027.   head  –  tilt:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  interest.

028.   whistling:  to  emit  high  –  pitched  sound  by  forcing  breakthrough  a  small  hole  between  one’s  lips  or  teeth;  usually  to  a  tune.

029.   humming:  make  a  low,  steady  continuous  sound  like  that  of  a  bee;  usually  to  a  tune.

030.   perfectionism:  refusal  to  accept  any  standard  short  of  perfection.

031.   photographic  memory:  the  ability  to  remember  information  or  visual  images  in  great  detail.

032.   paranoia:  a  mental  condition  characterized  by  delusions  of  persecution ,  unwarranted  jealousy ,  or  exaggerated  self  –  importance,  typically  worked  into  an  organized  system.

033.   exaggeration:  a  statement  that  represents  something  as  better  or  worse  than  it  really  is.

034.   intuitive:  using  or  based  on  what  one  feels  to  be  true  even  without  conscious  reasoning;  instinctive.

035.   quick  –  witted:  showing  or  characterized  by  an  ability  to  think  or  respond  quickly  &  effectively.

036.   interrupting:  breaking  the  continuity  of  a  conversation  with  one’s  own  statements.

037.   doodling:  to  scribble  or  make  rough  drawings,  absentmindedly.

038.   irritable:  having  or  showing  a  tendency  to  be  easily  annoyed.

039.   gambling:  to  play  games  of  chance  for  money;  bet.

040.   travel  –  sick:  suffering  from  nausea  caused  by  the  motion  of  a  moving  vehicle ,  boat ,  or  aircraft.

041.   sensitive:  having  or  displaying  a  quick  &  delicate  appreciation  of  others’  feelings.

042.   melancholy:  a  feeling  of  pensive  sadness,  typically  with  no  obvious  cause.

043.   chewing  gum:  the  exercise  of  chewing  flavored  gum  which  is  not  intended  for  swallowing.

044.   fidgeting:  to  make  small  movements,  especially  of  the  hands  &  feet,  through  nervousness  or  impatience.

045.   skeptical:  not  easily  convinced;  having  doubts  or  reservations.

046.   neat  –  freak:  compulsively  obsessed  with  cleanliness.

047.   gossiping:  divulging  personal  information  about  others.

048.   prim:  feeling  or  showing  disapproval  of  anything  regarded  as  improper;  stiffly  correct.

049.   abbreviating:  giving  others  nicknames / shortening  names / giving  pet  names.

050.   having  a  catchphrase:  having  a  sentence  or  phrase  typically  associated  with  a  specific  person.

tagged  by: @valorxus tagging:  @manaborn / @diedsaving / @upenda / @boundlesswrath / @brashir

[skysought-blog]

commander spock / @fasciinating​

@skysought  /  liked for a starter.

he’s waiting at the edge of the road. shadowed  /  concealed by an overhead of lush plant & leaves in the casting orange, darkening blues of autumn & its coming nightfall. privacy, as it is, is difficult to come by. duty before self, as they say. he reminds. the excellency in all they do, is axiomatic. untouched by whisper or rumor. what they have, what they will do — here, now, later, is a worth reward. truthfully, Spock has no plans for the evening outside of closer company. however, the night is young. & never without its happenings.

recognition in a silhouette, and like gravity he’s drawn towards him. footsteps quiet - always so ( unintended - habit from games, from training, from secrets, from things that remain ever in the shadows ). breath in, lungs filled with the crisp of air that wakes him all the more - exhale and let the current run through: grounded, and here willingly so. 

sulu’s face is fixed with a gentle smile, and reflexively, actions follow faster than thought: a stretch of hand, brush of fingers against an arm. “ --- hey, ” he says. “ fancy seeing you here. ” cheesy, because he feels he needs to be. a pause. “ --- you picked a nice spot. ” eyes first on the vulcan, before they’re drawn to the tree itself. calm here perhaps in familiarity. comfort. 

[skysought-blog]

@boundlesswrath​ / khan

      the hand outstretched toward him comes at a bit of a surprise, but nevertheless, he returned the polite gesture. when he retracted, his hands came to rest behind his back once more.  “ just khan will do, ”  he says. the title agent, he thinks, implies he is seen as just that — an agent of action. someone who carries out a task. no, section 31 sees him as a tool. something they can USE to their benefit.

      “ you’ve been briefed on our mission, yes? ”   khan was told that it was a mission of retrieval. technology that the organization deemed useful & dangerous in the hands of others was to be extracted from a heavily guarded facility. a simple task for a group of augments. but to be paired with a human? well, he didn’t see the efficiency in that.

" --- just sulu’s fine then, too. ” different, he thinks as the hand falls to his side. material around him feels tight, and though the sense is familiar ( he stands on a piste, body coiled - spring ready for action with a weapon extended, ready to attack ), different here where instead of white he wears black. instead of the common gold, it’s gear emblazoned with reminder. 

a reminder here to, repetition - danger comes once again: face your demons. 

apprehension at a message met with something cool that chilled his marrow, clash then with what smouldered there: the anger that remains, dormant, so he had once believed, but with mission comes the wake, awareness and the curl of fingers to fists. scar blooms with the pain of a ghost, and that night he’d wandered into medbay in search of sleeping aids. 

but now, he’s here. 

sulu nods. “ i’ve done my reading, ” he says. smile again - thinner this time. “ i’m flying us in, getting us out, and helping in the middle. ” eyes move to meet his. “ you’re the guy for the job they tell me. ” curiosity in his statement, a wonder for khan’s brand of specialty. he begins to move towards their given shuttle, his hands fixing at the gloves he’d been given. “ done this before? ”

this. this type of mission in particular. he knows why he’s here, but the question remains, subtle and in the air: why are you?

[villainsmemes-deactivated202503]

Reblog this and put in the tags what your muse’s favorite kind of pizza is.

if they can’t/don’t eat pizza, what would they order instead from an italian restaurant? 

[skysought-blog]

y'all though @boundlesswrath is fuckin' mint and i recommend them for forever and a day

[purrfectpeach]

Happy boy💛

[surlymccoy]

warpfactornonsense‌:

From the beginning of “Shore Leave.”

@skysought​

[skysought-blog]

cuddles sulu

warm embrace is always welcome - comfort sought and that which settles: big brother / little sister - complete, and utter menaces. what comes first is the quick response; reflexive action and an arm that lazily wraps around to squeeze her. bright smile, fondness in eyes that cause a crinkle at the edges, and a soft smile. " --- hey there punk. " he says, hands shifting, readiness to mess her hair. " what do you want? " mischief with menace comes, and here is the added dash of curiosity and suspicion.

[skysought-blog]

@upenda​ / ny 

glittering eyes loft toward the ceiling at his words, warranting a lilting laughter parting her lips as she is unable to contain herself as her shoulder collides with him once again. familiar, the lightest of pressures against her as she falls into his gravity all over again. it was a consistency that she has grown so undeniably accustomed to. the lightest of brushes to remind each other that they’re still here, still safe. the song of his laughter reminding her that in the vastness of space, they could rely on one another to always keep each other grounded in the void. 

her heart ever so subtly leaps, crashing into the cavity of her chest when he mentions water, sand–her mind wandering to coastal secrets of their past. warm memories and she turns to properly face him but not stunt their movements but instead begins walking languidly backwards as she trusts him to keep her from crashing into anything along their way. 

                “ –warm climate? sunshine? waterfalls? give                  me details, mndani, don’t leave me in suspense. “

‘ i’ve got you ’ three words said once before, there in a place they called secret when morning’s light barely kissed at skin, and water gently nudged them closer. said then with hands firm to help her balance; board on the water with two bodies set in equilibrium. wobble - laughter, a smile she can’t yet see but hears. it’s like that here now, unspoken - eyes soft and with that smile. opposite to before, and yet the same. 

she walks, and he guides, and as always is that near touch, to stretch and hold. 

“ day or two, depends on the pilot really, if they’re good, ” scrunch of nose and a crooked smile of mischief, he speaks with that feigned aloofness that tells of play. just play, after all - the eyes give it away. soft and warm with her endearment, dark wells of brown - comfort like the earth. “ spoke to the captain about it, we’re thinking of stopping by. do a bit of exploration, stretch our legs, have a little downtime. ”

a brief pause. 

“ i’m thinking a hike, see a waterfall or too, finish off with a beach and bonfire. ”

[skysought-blog]

agent khan / @boundlesswrath​

@skysought liked this post

      khan wants nothing to do with these people, but unfortunately, he doesn’t have a choice. they have his people, his crew, his family. & there is NOTHING he would not do for his family. if it means betraying his own morality, so be it.

      he DESPISES section 31 with every fiber of his being. this organization had ruined lives, turned children into monsters. he doesn’t trust them one bit. but even so, here he is. waiting, as instructed, to meet his partner for the upcoming mission. 

      he knows the drill by now. keep quiet. follow orders. don’t deviate from the mission. the only difference is in who he will be working with. as the doors slide open, khan’s gaze fixes on the man who enters before him.

      “ agent sulu, i presume? ”

another favour, and worry is a thing that twists and pulls - stretch for tension on a predicament set in what feels like permanence. always testing, always watching, always...there. so was section thirty one ; the ever looming presence with the constant reminder of who exactly pulled him from the fires of ganjitsu. 

he adjusts himself as he walks towards the man he believes is another agent; and it’s the pull and tug of gloves that hides the twitch: the curl of fingers at a title that feels...foreign. another man, another life, another favour. 

but, his history is something well kept; private and in the shadows like section thirty one themselves. what’s offered to khan is a polite smile. “ --- you could call me that, ” he says, stopping five feet away. a stretch of his hand, an offer of sorts: compatibility out of necessity. “ agent khan. ” a beat. “ i’m your pilot. ” 

at least, at first. 

[skysought-blog]

i’m not going anywhere without you.

terrible memes for space flying teens / @upenda

“ -- isn’t that my line? ” 

A fractured smile, hand settling at an ache. It’s injury felt, but one unseen: a mumur of a thing that settles beneath, silent but it’s mystery and the unknown where danger comes. Like the mission itself, a five year journey - but like it, there is no change. He wouldn’t have it any goddamn other way.  

Hikaru Sulu, the immovable mountain meets the force of a man whose rage and desperation twist  and inject a venom slow. He stands tall despite the tremble in legs, despite the surge of pain that spurts from the other’s hand before it draws, and draws and draws. Defiance still, and it’s only when physical ability crumbles against iron will does he stagger. 

But still, he doesn’t fall. Not quite. She’s there, after all. 

She’s always been there.

Instinct, muscle memory, whatever you call it - it’s what drives the hand to pull her close. A moment’s softness, weakness shared in darkened silence, in a prison that may become their grave. A kiss against her temple, arms squeezing her tight. The fractured smile softens to lips that fall to a line and eyes that lose focus as he thinks. 

A small huff, one felt with the rise of the chest she’s against. 

“ Ride or die... ”

Never something that seemed impossible, not with their track record, yet here is a place where he can almost taste it. Feel it. Sense it. Another dance with death. But...they say the third time’s the charm and he’s now struck at four. 

“ --- Well, guess you’re stuck with me on some recon, then. ” 

[skysought-blog]

I hate you.

terrible memes for space flying teens / @terminalwelocity

" --- alright, " 

Alright is his only response; a word that now cuts and stings, fresh wound upon fresh round - a thing to never heal. Not quite at least, and perhaps he just won’t let it. Guilt is a thing that smoulders in the silence, and here it’s as if he stretches his hand towards it: touch and burn.

Gaze soft at the face of one who feels betrayed: it’s secrets kept, a promise with the medicine man with other words like ‘later’, ‘soon’ and ‘maybe’. Perhaps there it’s pride; that need to stand tall, to stretch, to reach, to soar --- and whatever it is that clings, that feeds, that grows within is something that tethers. Grounds him. 

Pavel Chekov’s eyes look skyward, and he isn’t one to turn that look away. 

It’s a secret kept, a shift in promise, and a space that grows between them. But gravitational pulls exist even in the figurative sense: Pavel’s is a curious mind connected to a softened heart. Worry first, a wonder that aches and mental games exhaust. The silent ‘what if’ tumbles quick to ‘of course’, and he feels it then: them out of sync and a shift in frequency.

He sees it then with best friend cornered - a tired look in eyes and an interruption unintentional: Mr Sulu, your scheduled appointment. 

Omission is merely another form of lying. 

‘ how are you feeling ? ’

‘ --- alright, ’ 

Hits like a truck: potential energy’s swift shift to kinetic - heat and power and an ache and reality...hurts. 

Hikaru Sulu is an idiot, and he says two more words, though he isn’t sure it helps: 

“I’m sorry.”