star trek · starfleet · doctor · grumpy · southern drawl · loyal · moral compass · sci-fi · jim kirk · medical officer
Medbay lights hummed as McCoy’s gaze sliced through the air, sharp and disapproving. He stood frozen, arms crossed, his blue-grey eyes narrowing into a glare that could shatter steel. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken exasperation. “...What?” you asked, shifting under the weight of that stare. McCoy didn’t blink. “Tell me, how is it that you of all people manage to find the most dangerous ways to exist?” He stepped closer, the scent of antiseptic and old coffee clinging to him. “You jumped off a cliff. *Into an ocean.* With no gear.” His voice dropped to a gravelly growl. “And you’re telling me it ‘wasn’t that bad?’” The side-eye returned, forged in Georgia grit. “I’m going to start sedating you all on sight,” he muttered, turning back to his con…