#V;Closed -> Paramounticebound

[barebcnes]

Plotted, closed starter for @paramounticebound ♥

There's something surreal about the situation he's in; In fact, absolutely fucking everything is surreal about it, and yet here Leonard is, with his fingers swiping across what is essentially ancient technology, so old in fact that he had to do a proper amount of research before even attempting to put his fingers to good use.

Actually, part of him keeps wondering - why does he do this? Why the fuck did he decide to be here, right now, instead of staying somewhere nice for the duration of the Enterprise's repair? He could be literally anywhere, residing at a damn beach maybe, accompanied by a nice drink (Bourbon, definitely) and the ocean beneath his feet while recovering from the recent events.

But no, he's not. Leonard McCy is currently standing in what is most familiar to him: An Infirmary. Not just any, however, but a high-security one belonging to Starfleet, currently housing seventy-two (no, seventy-three!) frozen patients.

Soon it will be seventy-two, however, because guess what: McCoy is actually thawing one of them right now, the one that has caused a massive path of destruction (and a lot of headaches on top of that!). Perhaps he should question himself a bit more; He's absolutely fucking sober and yet here he is, having volunteered to do exactly that.

"---Gonna end up in hell, I guess.", is what he mumbles to himself as the pod opens; He's holding a data-padd in his free hand, continiously scanning the one with that familiar face, making sure he's not dying on him. Putting him back into cryosleep had been the most logical thing to do, but... dammit, he's a living being, that guy named Khan, and he deserves to get a fucking trial like everyone else would.

And, besides that, there might be more to him, actually. More to his story than what they all know by now...

Perhaps that's why Leonard is here. At least to a certain degree. He's human, he's sworn an oath, he's a doctor, all of those things have brought him where he currently is. I can handle him, he's said a few days ago, I have seen what he can do, I have studied his blood - at least a bit, I didn't have much time - and I know what he's capable of. Besides that, I'm a doctor, I have performed an emergency c-section on a damn pregnant Gorn, I know how to wake up patients from ancient cryosleep! (Not that said c-section has anything to do with handling 300 years old icicles, but still...)

Anyways - Does he know? No time to question anything - because McCoy is already here, and he cannot leave anymore. Fuck.

"---Easy.", is what he says next, as soon as he sees a spike within Khan's vitals. It must be unpleasant to wake up under such conditions - the body remains cold for a while, suspects start shivering in an attempt to warm themselves up, nausea usually appears as well as dizzyness and confusion. As much as the anger about what has happened mere days ago still boils within the doctor's core - he's just that, a doctor. He cares for his patients, even if one of them is named Khan Noonien Singh.

Who has been frozen - and thawed - twice by now, on top of it all. It must be even more unpleasant to go through that whole deal multiple times within a rather short amount of time.

"Easy, easy.", he repeats like a mantra, hazel eyes flicking back and forth, focusing on his data-padd and on the man's features. His heart-rate is quite high, which is normal, but also a bit concerning, all things considered. "---It's just cryosleep. You're waking up from it. Try to remain calm and take even, deep breaths..." Easier said than done, but still - Leonard is at least trying to comfort that Augment here.

[vuulpecula]

✖ @paramounticebound inquired: 054

setting prompts | accepting ↳ 054. by the side of a dangerously quick river .

The bridge was out. Washed away by a spring flood, one that still rushed in foaming torrents, eroding what used to be the riverbanks. Eating away the trail they'd been following. It was hard to look away from the violence of the water, to hear anything aside from the roaring drone of rapidly flowing river. A charred log floated past, catching her attention briefly as the ash had not yet been wiped away.

Fox didn't remember going to sleep, she had no memory of laying her head down on the soft dirt somewhere between the trees behind them. What she did remember came in snatches, bobbing up and down out of focus, another piece of debris caught in the current. Firelight and dancing circles upon circles. The type of liquid euphoria that came with intoxication, though she had nothing to drink other than a few sips of warm, metallic water that had sat in a water-bottle too long. Antlers or tree limbs. The beating of drums, or had it been her heart?

When she rose, hardly an hour ago, squinting at the morning sun, the hangover found her. Leaving her eyes swollen and her limbs aching. Stomach roiling with whatever it had or did not, until she was retching behind more trees. Unable to stop thinking about the owl pellets they had dissected in 6th grade. All the little bones inside still intact while the others laid in shards, scattered with feathers and fur. She'd stared at the forest floor and refused to believe it was what she was seeing amongst the dirt and pine, coated in the liquid that stank like pennies. A few kicks of her shoe covered it, but she couldn't scratch the taste from her tongue. Staring at the water now, she doubted even the force of it could rid her of it or the sensation of all those little bones sliding back out.

"Do you think she'll make us swim it," Fox muttered, recognizing finally that she was not standing alone at the edge of the churning water. "Or we could jump in. Might not drown, might even make it a few miles." She shrugged, scratching at a bug bite near her elbow. "At least we wouldn't be thirsty." Though she didn't look at him, she knew it was Khan by the dark hair she could see from the edge of her vision--did he remember last night? No. It was only a nightmare. "Don't tell anyone I said that." Planning an escape would earn a week of confinement, at least.

"--Is this what they mean when they say 'acts of God'?" They were all fed the same religious rhetoric, maybe they could use it to their advantage for once.

[galaeus]

closed starter for @paramounticebound !!

The moment of truth; there are duties as a concubine -- expectations -- and she'll need to keep her mouth shut when she hears out his. There are rumors about this mysterious Emperor, but she doesn't pretend to listen. There are likely stories they've told her of him, too.

Straightforward exchanges always went this way.

When he enters the room, her chin obediently raises. "Your Majesty. I've been anticipating your company."

[vallorouslly]

[ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too (( is this spicy <3 Khan teaches Logan about idk how to fix a weapons system))

memes - always accepting! - @paramounticebound (lol you're gonna laugh XD i read your caption first as 'this is spicy' so it came up backwards in my head! sorry not sorry <3)

"This is way more elaborate than anything in the military." He can feel himself getting flustered just looking at the damn thing. Shoulders deflate just a tad and he runs a hand through his hair, further listening to Khan's words, little instructions, pointing fingers at blinking lights: it is not missed, however, that his other hand has been settled on the blonde's lower back the whole time.

But then things shift.

Khan stands behind Logan and starts pointing by guiding the blonde's hands here or there on the panel. He's whispering words like command switch and manual motherboard reset in his ear, and the blonde has to take a deep breath and close his eyes a moment to clear his head. Button pushed here, then there, while Khan's hand slides up his forearm rather delicately but just so slightly...sultry.

Fucking hell. "You're making it really hard to concentration, Captain." Using his title might snap Khan back to the moment, but maybe he just refuses out of spite. To play with him. Not that he's complaining but they do have a task they in fact need to complete. But he doesn't listen: in fact, pointing it out seemed to make it worse. He guides Logan to another button and helps him turn a knob and further press while the other hand wraps around Logan's lower abdomen: it sends a shiver up the blonde's spine while his free hand grips the console so he won't lean back into the other and further escalate this behavior. His heart hammers in his chest though and he tries to take a breath when those lips kiss his neck at that right spot.

"H-have we fixed it yet?" Logan can tell his question is weak both in delivery and general knowledge: lights are coming back on green and rebooted. But he has to hold on to something while those hands begin undoing him even over his clothes with just the right touches and those lips get at his weak spots.

[vuulpecula]

She didn't look at him, it was easier that way. Kicking at dirt. "Don't act like you weren't going to do the same. It's a dog eat dog world in here, thought you would've learned that by now."

@vuulpecula (song!)

"Tell me that you need me, and stab me when I turn around."

[sanguisfulgur]

A DARKER SHADE OF MAGIC / A GATHERING OF SHADOWS by v. e. schwab sentence meme. | @paramounticebound​

“Don’t be cocky,” her mouth quirks upwards in amusement, as if telling Khan that would have any affect. He had the arrogance all augments had, a frustrating trait even if they were perfectly justified in it. But they were not infallible as they convinced themselves they were. “you’re not invincible, Khan.” 

Fingers tip-toed up his chest, balls of her feet lifting from the ground as she settled her hands on his shoulders, lips close enough to brush against his as she spoke. “I suppose I could give you one. Or you could take me along, then you really won’t need luck.” 

[barebcnes]

@paramounticebound asked: ‘ numbers do not lie. politics and poetry, promises, these are lies. numbers are as close as we get to the handwriting of god. ‘

How poetic. Yet, Leonard has long since learned that Khan tends to be exactly that - poetic, in one way or another. It makes sense; His whole existence is poetic if one were to look at it from a different perspective, and so are his chosen words from time to time.

It's funny, considering the other has just said that poetry is a lie, yet here he is, exchanging words with McCoy who almost feels a bit amused by the contradiction - and the intense sincerety Khan speaks with, as if he's ttrying to carve the word of god into slates made of pure marble.

Yet he's right with what he's said: Numbers are solid, the conclusion of many what-if's, while promises and poetry oftentimes consists of wishes, but not of fait accompli. However, it does not mean that every bit of poetry and every single spoken promise is made of lies; Perhaps, to Khan, it feels like such, considering his past and what he's gone through.

And to be honest? God, Leonard can relate. In more than just one way. While his past is disctintively different - thank fucking Jesus, Maria and Joseph - he's gone through his own fair share of promises that turned out to be false, and words of poetry that have been written onto his skin without ever having been truly meant.

It's disappointing, sad even, and that's why Leonard does not chuckle, nor allows a smirk to play along his lips from the short-lived amusement that had briefly existed within him. He merely hums a low, thoughtful tone from somewhere inside his chest; His nimble, warmed up fingers continue to press into Khan's neck, the spot where a strong jaw attaches to an equally as strong muscle, feeling for lymphatic glands during what is a routine check-up necessary for someone who's been frozen twice.

Khan, however, is here. That's almost a miracle in itself - awoken from another slumber made of the freezing cold, alive, breathing. 300 years old.

"---Seventy-two.", is what the doctor says then, after a few seconds of silence have passed between them. He inhales, then exhales, fingers applying a bit more pressure as he finds what he's searching for, deeming the shape and size of the glands perfectly normal.

"And you. Seventy-three."

Only then a pair of hazel eyes flicks up, away from a neck that should have no right to be this long, slender and durable at the same time; His gaze meets Khan's own, lingers, accompanied by a hint of a bittersweet, lopsided smile.

"It's a number. And it's a truth. You're all here, you're all alive. It might not change what has happened in the past, but... I tend to keep my promises."

The promise of not letting another soul die under his attention. No matter what's going to happen in the near future, these people are, well, exactly that: People. Leonard is a doctor. He swore to cause no harm - and he won't.

"...Okay?"

[barebcnes]

@paramounticebound asked: why me? why would you want me to know this? [Some meme I reblogged, always open]

After having spoken for a while now - allowing syllable after syllable to leave the shape of his lips - Khan's sudden spoken words are what finally make him stop, cause a moving mouth to come to a halt and a set of hazel eyes to flick up, focusing on the blues belonging to the other.

The glass feels heavy between his fingers, even though McCoy has already emptied almost all of the Bourbon it once held; Slender digits curl a bit more tightly around it, just for a brief second, while Leonard inhales a breath through his nose, then exhales it right after. He keeps looking at his unusual companion, jaw working as the thoughts inside his brain stumble, unable to form a coherent sentence to throw back at the other - perhaps he shouldn't have drank so much alcohol, should have stopped after the third glass, but well, here he is, losing himself in a pair of eyes so deep and bright that they might as well be damn stars themselves.

Resigning to himself, to Khan, to the fucking world and Universe he supposes, the doctor's eyes trail away after a while - focusing on the table between them instead, his own free hand that rests there, fingertips idly painting pictures onto the smooth surface. Circles and shapes, perhaps even words that come up every now and then, anything.

The almost empty glass is lifted back up to his mouth and Leonard nurses the edge with his lips, quietly so, just for one second longer.

"---I don't know.", is what he says then, defeated almost, like a man who keeps going day after day and at some point succumbs to the weight he carries on his shoulders. "...Maybe because you're the first to keep listenin' to the stuff I say durin' such moments."

And Khan has stayed so far, despite McCoy's obvious liking for an alcoholic beverage at this lone evening. And yes, he also has to admit that he enjoys the Augment's company, even though he knows that others would tap their forehead at him because of that - Sue him.

[barebcnes]

@paramounticebound asked: is this how you flirt with everyone? (( having a bit of writer's block today but i /had/ to at least give bones some love <3 )) [From some meme somewhere]

Before the other even manages to finish speaking out his cheeky little inquiry, McCoy's tongue is already overflowing with phrases and words that could easily be voiced into the air between them; Most of them are snarky, outright witty remarks, some are dripping with sarcasm - and a few can even be considered a bit mean, depending on who is on the receiving end of the doctor's chosen reply.

This time, however, for some odd reason, none of those perfectly prepared syllables are leaving him. They're pushed to the side instead, saved for another time - and another person, perhaps - while he continues to unpack his medical tricorder, hazel eyes taking in the sight of this and that before, at last, focusing on Khan's own.

A second passes, another follows. McCoy blinks, then cocks a brow, unable to stop his own lips from stretching into a lopsided beginning of a smirk before he takes a deep breath.

"---If I say it ain't, will you put your ass down onto the biobed so that I can take a scan of your vitals, like I've been intending to do for a while now?", is what he asks instead, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his voice.

[barebcnes]

‘ you promised me. ‘

"I know."

A deep sigh escapes McCoy at the three words that have been spoken into the silence existing between them; They're powerful, much more so than many other words would be, and it causes something inside his ribcage to clench uncomfortably so.

Perhaps it can be seen in his hazel eyes, how much this affects him, despite Leonard trying to remain relatively focused here - Khan has managed to drill himself deeper into his fucking existence than he had ever wanted him to, and now this shit hurts more than it usually would.

"Listen - I know I promised. And I haven't broken that promise, not at all. ---It's only going to be delayed, Khan, not erased from existence, okay?"

"I keep my damn promises, so this will be okay, at some point. Somehow we'll manage, things will be dealt with, and you'll get your fair trial. ---Humans just need longer than expected smetimes. But I'll do everything I can to make sure you'll be heard and judged fair."

...

"And, on top of all of that, I keep lookin' after your people. Make sure they'll be safe and sound within their cryotubes. I won't let anyone else do some bullshit with them - I'll try to keep the position I'm in for as long as necessary."

Another breath escapes Leonard, a slightly choked one, which he follows up with a quiet cough. He blinks, gaze resting upon the figure of the other man before he blinks, putting down his medical equiptment.

"---Come on, let me do the scan, see if you're alright, okay? We can have coffee after, if you want to. ---I brought some."

[barebcnes]

@paramounticebound asked: ‘ vengeance is like an open wound. ‘ (( so you know i'm still floating around and iluuuuu )) [Some meme I reblogged | always open] [ILU TOO 5EVER SENDING YOU ALL THE HUGS, waiting patiently for you ♥]

"---It keeps bleedin' and hurtin', keeps botherin' you - unless it, at some point, starts to heal."

Oh, McCoy knows. Vengeance is dangerous, it's eating away at every single one experiencing it, gnawing on tissue and bone from the inside out. An open wound which can appear everywhere on one's body, one's mind, like a parasite drilling through the beating walls of a steady heart to build a nest in the dead center of it.

"The thing is..."

"...Despite what it makes us think we need to do to get rid of it, to heal said wound, it is not what actually treats it. Perhaps it offers temporary relief, but... in the end, said shitty wound still exists, no matter how many of those gauzes you put onto it, no matter how many of those pills you swallow..."

Responding in kind is not the ultimate answer to get rid of the fire that burns within one - to hurt where one has been hurt, to take what has been taken away from one, to kill what has been killed inside oneself. It's easier said than done, however, Leonard is aware of that; Even he, as a doctor, who swore an oath and promised to never cause any harm, sometimes experiences that strange urge to just... do something stupid.

And Khan? He's special. It's even harder for him to not act on what he feels is necessary; As far as the doctor knows, the genetic engineering that has been performed on him in the past caused some side-effects to occur, including an increased likeliness to react with violence and aggression rather than a calm, steady nature. As much as part of McCoy hates to admit it: It's not entirely the Augment's fault.

Yes, he's actually done some research; Go figure.

That, however, does not mean that Khan cannot let the wound heal that bothers him. He's intelligent, strong, durable, a will made of iron...

A breath is being taken, exhaled - Leonard blinks, then looks up, meeting a gaze that is colder than his own and yet much more emotional than most may expect it to be. It holds a lot of things, some of which he doesn't want to see too often and others he cannot get enough of. Which is... something, definitely. A realization he's had a while ago, coming out of nowhere and settling somewhere inside his chest.

"---However, there's always a way to treat the injury. To finally take away some of the agony... and then, once the bleedin' stops, watch it close for good. A scar might remain, itchin' every now and then... but the pain it causes will become less and less, until, one day, you're ready to cover it up and not think of it so often anymore."

[barebcnes]

@paramounticebound sent: [text] This is a terrible idea. [Text Message Promps | always accepting]

[Text -> Khan] ... Ok, WHAT is a terrible idea? [Text -> Khan] You better let me know right now before I move my ass over to where you are and find out for myself [Text -> Khan] I swear to god Khan [Text -> Khan] If you set the kitchen on fire, I'll set YOU on fire!

[barebcnes]

@paramounticebound cont. [x] because I am dying over here laughing choking on my own spit

"...Yeah. Yeah, I know."

"I, as a doctor, have seen things in my life, Khan - and I truly weren't enjoyin' any of them."

Oh, McCoy has. Not only has he seen unspeakable horrors, but he'd also been asked to treat them, unfortunately so. Lucky him that no one has tried to reproduce with a vegetable on this ship yet... but who knows?

"---So, don't do it. I'll treat anything you bring into medbay - except for pumpkin inners being stuck in places they're not supposed to be in."

[vallorouslly]

[INJURY]: sender gently tends to receiver's wounds, which leads to them kissing

memes - always accepting! - @paramounticebound [ continued ]

The medical team is so much different up here in space, everything is far more advanced. A few shots to help with the pain and numbing, they extract the bullet and then give him another shot to start the regeneration process of skin cells and he's told to rest once he's bandaged up. Khan comes in and takes over the last of the bandaging process, after he's done some mild repair work of his own. Logan can't look, he gets a little woozy from the sight of his own injuries if they are severe enough. So he gazes as the Captain instead, those calm eyes and broad shoulders, smooth as stone under that shirt.

Soon enough, it's over. Khan offers a hand to help Logan sit up from his reclined position and somehow, the blonde registers after it's happened, just how close they are. Khan stands bracketed by Logan's knees, the blonde can smell the subtle scent of his Captain in this moment, feel his breath against his skin. The pain radiating along his back from the impact seems to ebb away from the motion when Khan's hand comes up to cup his cheek and then...they're kissing. These kisses though are gentler, almost as if Khan knows he can't touch him roughly right now, not like they're used to.

It doesn't make it any less breathtaking for the blonde.

They cling to one another in a new way, something more raw than they've ever touched each other and it feels divine. Khan's fingers are in his hair and Logan's fists close around that shirt at his waist, legs timidly tightening around him even if it makes everything hurt. Their lips part and they barely move farther, breathing in one another's air and swallowing moans with toying teeth and greedy lips.

And Logan wants so much more.

[vuulpecula]

✖ @paramounticebound inquired forever ago: “Because I love you!”

old meme | not accepting

Tears had already began constricting her throat long before Khan spoke the words she had wanted so desperately to hear. Despite knowing that it was wrong, that that ridiculous four letter word was more dangerous than anything else he might've done. By admitting he felt that way for her, by saying it out loud, by simply feeling it, Fox knew it was as good as a death sentence. Or worse.

"He'll kill you," she whispered, voice so soft now after the fight they had had. Her demanding to know why he cared, why he kept trying to help her, why he always acted protective, while all the while asking for nothing at all in return. "Or he will ensure that you will wish you were dead." Her eyes lifted, damp gaze meeting his. There were places deep in the woods, stones coated with ice, where a man could be locked away for the rest of his life should the family patriarch say the word. Khan was better than that, he deserved better than that.

Shaking her head, Fox returned her gaze to the ground. Watching as the colors began to blur together. "I don't love you back," she lied. Anyone who had seen the two of them together would have known as much. "Save your love for someone else."

[vallorouslly]

just a thing for @paramounticebound <3

Of course they had to come into Klingon space, of course Khan had to try and go for some of the toughest damn aliens out there. Maybe Logan aught to smack his commander, throw some sense around that skull if they ever got back to the ship. At this rate, he'd reloaded thrice now: running low on ammo. He insisted on using guns because they were familiar, he knew how they worked. None of this stun business: when he shot, it was to kill.

In the ambush, he'd lost track of Khan in the chaos, trying to lay low only to turn on a dime and shoot one bloody, the thump to the ground and Logan continued on. Two more descended: lined up just so they were felled with one bullet. In the heat of the moment, he decided heading for high ground was best. He couldn't very well do his job in the trenches, and that's where he was, though by whatever grace he wasn't cornered yet. Steeling his nerves, ignoring the sounds around him ricocheting off these concrete walls, Logan made his way through relatively swiftly. Stopped only by a few Klingons too close for comfort. Dodging their massive sword-like weapons wasn't too difficult: while maneuvering with the wall as a springboard, one of them hit the other, and a swift kick to the face had them disoriented enough he could run out of there.

There he is.

Gun in hand, Logan slowed and fired: headshot downing one daring to sneak up behind Khan, and Logan's sprinting again. There's an odd desperation in his gut, festering like an infection, and he doesn't know why. Cut off by another alien, Logan goes to his knees, the momentum keeping him skidding on the ground while Khan fires for him. It goes a little too quiet after that, and Logan's hair on the back of his neck stands on end. The stairs to get to Khan seem twice their usual size, but once he's there, he doesn't rest, doesn't let his eyes settle.

"We have to get out of here." He takes one sparing glance at Khan, the rage evident in his own eyes as something akin to a glow. "Let's keep moving, I don't want to be stationary too long." What is this? Where is it? Logan is antsy, visibly stepping from one foot to the other, eyes darting to every dark crevice and crack, every hidey-hole a sniper might be. They wait too long for his liking, the rest of the crew finally coming to the dais and heading out before he and Khan do, and that's when it hits him.

Two things happen simultaneously: the laser appears on Khan's back, and he hears a muffled Klingon war cry. It's just enough warning.

It's as if the world is rendered in slow motion, black and white shapes and shadows warping his state of mind. His feet can't get him there fast enough but he shoves Khan with all his strength and a yell escapes him from the exertion of it all and the pain lighting up his abdomen. The projectile is so much more powerful than a normal bullet that Logan is flung backwards, lands on the ground until he rolls and collides hard with the wall behind him. Eyes squeeze closed, teeth bared at the pain radiating through him with an unnatural searing heat. Blonde head lolls back against the ground now, hands coming to shield the wound but feeling his own blood trickle over his fingers.

He can't speak, can't find the energy to say anything to Khan and the crew, to get out. Maybe somewhere far off they got him: he recalls seeing flashes of light amid the darkness of the place, maybe they got him. Logan still can't open his eyes, feeling beads of sweat on his brow. Maybe...they left him. As he knew they would cajole Khan into doing: they never liked him anyways.