#like they invoke emotions besides just awe and positivity

[wandas-sunshine]

A Soldier’s Spring - Chapter 5

Summary: She was one of Hydra’s best kept secret weapons; a female winter soldier. And Bucky can’t let her go through what he did alone. Everything is coming back to her, and he’s the only one that can help her become human again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst, light violence, very few warnings for this chapter

Word Count: 3,008

Previously on A Soldier’s Spring | Series Masterlist

The screams were deafening, almost as loud as the rush of blood in his ears. His hands were trembling and covered with blood. He hated the way it shone against the metal of his prosthetic. His eyes flicked up again. He didn’t even know where he was, he didn’t know what he’d done. Everyone was running. Running towards the men in tactical gear with the assault rifles. Running away from him. A hundred guns all aimed at him, and in a moment, a hundred bullets were let loose. He was frozen in time as they all closed in on him, but there was nothing to do, no way of escape. It was too late.

Bucky sat up, drenched in sweat and his chest heaving as he gasped desperately for air. His throat ached, and he half wondered if he’d been screaming. He didn’t let himself dwell on that thought for too awfully long. He rubbed his shaky flesh hand over his face and exhaled slowly. His heart was still hammering in his chest, and angry tears welled in his eyes

He thought for a long moment, contemplating writing about the dream in his journal, but he couldn’t imagine how it could help. It was the same awful images as always. The same faces of innocent people he had slaughtered. The same nauseating guilt filling up his chest and taking over the space meant for his lungs.

He sighed and cradled his head in his hands. It was pounding from the screams. The screams of his victims. Or maybe it was from his own. He shook his head as yet another decent night of sleep slipped through his fingertips.

There was no saying just how long (Y/N) stayed there, motionless and silent in that chair, just waiting for something devastating to happen. But nobody came in, and she didn’t feel like anyone was watching her. That alone was unusual, but that didn’t bring her more than a little comfort.

Finally, she moved, kneeling beside the plate of food and examining it for anything harmful, any traces of poison or drugging as if it would be that simple. But the rumbling in her stomach was getting the best of her. A super soldier’s metabolism was a curse without proper care.

In record time the plate had been cleared of food, all but licked clean. She pushed the dish away, just sitting...waiting. Time crept by as she counted the seconds. She hugged her knees to her chest. The longer she waited, the more convinced she became that the food really hadn’t been tampered with.

They could have hurt you, her mother’s voice prodded into the back of her mind again. Something within her trying to reason with her. Maybe you should trust them.

But her trust was a hard thing to earn, and she didn’t take well to being caged up.

She had until morning to escape, and who knew how long she’d already wasted. She stood, every muscle in her body tense, every nerve practically jumping. She’d never broken out of anyplace, but she was pretty sure she’d broken into plenty. Just how hard could breaking a lock be with her strength?

Her hands were shaking as she gripped the door knob. It twisted surprisingly easily under her touch. She had hardly even squeezed; They’d left her door unlocked.

She felt like she was going to hurl. This had to be some kind of terrible trap. You didn’t hide away a dangerous monster just to leave the door unlocked and unguarded. But what did she have to lose? She’d come this far.

The hall was pitch black. Were it not for her enhancements, she wouldn’t have any idea which way to go. But she could make out a few cameras on the walls. She didn’t see any locks on any of the doors along the hall, but she didn’t want to risk that much. She just needed a way out. And what were the odds that this place was locked from the inside out?

She snuck down the hall, her footfalls deadly silent against the carpeted floors. She couldn’t escape the cameras; If they were going to catch her on the security footage, they already had. Nevertheless, she trusted her training and stuck to the shadows.

Her ears strained, searching for the sound of anyone nearby. She couldn’t pick up on anything particularly concerning. She took the stairs at the end of the hall to the lower floor, careful not to step too hard.

The lower floor looked more lived in than the one above it. It looked like a home. Her eyes wandered the space. There was a couch, a pair of arm chairs. There were books stacked on a table, and a pair of shoes seemingly abandoned in front of the couch. She reached out to touch the fluffy blanket on the back of one of the seats. This was someone's home.

She pushed out a soft breath. She didn’t have a home. She may not have ever had one. A lump was forming at the back of her throat, and her chest ached. How could someplace so unfamiliar, so dangerous, make her feel so safe? How could it invoke such an unexplored longing?

She forced the feeling to dissipate. Missions were no place for emotions. A living space meant a kitchen, and a kitchen meant knives. That would serve her better than her fists would. She kept her head on a swivel, her ears open and constantly searching for warning signs that her time was being cut short.

It didn’t take a particularly long time to find the kitchen space in the little area dedicated to their cozy home. She searched the room before finally finding the drawer with the sharp objects. She quietly tucked away a few smaller ones, ones that she could hide easily. Then she picked out a larger one, one that handled like her dagger, heavy and shaped nicely for her hand.

That would have to do.

She slipped back out in the darkness, looking for the door. There had to be a goddamn door. She followed the hall until it opened into what looked like a foyer. She rushed to the door, but in an instant she froze. The frosted glass seemed to loom over her. Or maybe that was just the agonizing fear of everything outside of this prison. Her hands trembled as she pulled the door open. Freedom was at her fingertips, but this terror was no different from what she was already being suffocated by.

She pulled her hood up and gripped the hilt of her knife tighter, relaxing a little at the familiar feeling of the weapon in her palm. Now or never. She pulled the door open, just enough to slip outside, then pushed it closed, careful not to make any noise.

The air sent a chill through her. She didn’t even know what time of year it was anymore. Maybe spring? She liked the spring, didn’t she?

It was dark out, not too far into the night. Midnight, she thought. The sky was inky, clouds blotting out the pale moonlight that tried to filter through. It must have been raining judging by the damn glisten of wet pavement. There was hardly any movement aside from a couple cars passing by.

Then the creak of a door.

She spun on her heel, brandishing her weapon like a desperate plea to simply be left alone.

Bucky really hadn’t expected to be threatened at knifepoint when he wandered outside to clear his head. His nightmare had caught him off guard, and he couldn’t sit still anymore. Walks always helped when he was back in Wakanda. But now he was face to face with her again, and he could feel himself starting to freeze up.

He could see the way her body tensed, like she was bracing for impact. She was ready to bolt, or maybe fight, he couldn’t be sure which one. It didn’t make much of a difference either way. She was a wild animal trapped in a cage. That was something he could understand.

(Y/N) swallowed hard. Her throat felt like it was closing up, and her stomach was churning with panic. They had sent him to bring her back, and she never had been able to beat him.

She gasped for air, her hair falling in front of her face. All of her energy was going into avoiding the blade he was attacking her with.

“Block him,” A voice barked in Russian. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at the winter soldier with a look of pure determination. Sweat was dripping into her eyes, but she ignored the burning. With every well aimed attack he made, she lost ground, backing towards the corner of the training gym.

He was pushing on with a stamina she simply couldn’t keep up with. She tried to plead with him through desperate looks, but to no avail. The longer she looked at him, the more convinced she became that she would never work any sympathy from him. She wasn’t even sure there was any human emotion on the other side of his murderous gaze. She didn’t give up, even as tears started spilling down her cheeks.

It was never a fair fight; A seventeen year old, all but brainwashed girl against a 80 year old, super strong assassin. A shriek ripped from her throat when his knife cut into her bicep. She clutched her wound and fell back, scrambling back into the corner helplessly. Sobs wracked her body and all the while, the dark haired soldier closed in on her.

“Up. Again.” The voice of the Hydra agent ordered once more. She pushed herself up, every limb weak with exhaustion. A sick feeling settled over her. She couldn’t win, she didn’t even really think she was supposed to win. He was an unconquerable wall of muscle and metal, and she was losing her strength. “Up, now. Fight for your life, little princess.”

“Stay back.” She warned, trying to hide her rising fear behind a stony glare. Bucky looked at her for a long moment. She looked...pathetic. She was clutching her knife in her shaking hands, and her nerves were all but on display there in front of him. He was nearly positive he could feel his heart shattering in his chest. She was broken, only held together by a tiny bit of spite.

“Let’s put that thing down. Do I look like I’m here for a fight?” He tried to keep his voice steady, looking down at his sweatshirt and joggers. Her eyes scanned his appearance, then snapped back to his face. She glared.

“You’re with Hydra. You’re the reason they knew how to make me like this...You’re a killer.” She spat the words like pure venom, but she didn’t have the strength to mention that despite it all, he was just like her.

Bucky looked at his feet. Her words stirred up his guilt, and the feeling swelled in his chest, in his throat, cutting off his air flow. He swallowed it down. Now wasn’t the time, and she couldn’t be blamed for being afraid of him. He would be too. He had been just another torture device used against her, and judging by the tenseness of her form, she remembered that clearly.

“I’m not Hydra. Not anymore.” He looked back up to her, his gaze trying to lock onto hers. He poured every bit of sincerity inside him into his words. “We don’t want to hurt you. I’ve hurt enough people. I don’t even want you locked up. But Steve and Natasha think you’re too dangerous right now.”

She listened quietly, mostly because she was still too terrified of the consequences if she ran away.

“I don’t understand.” She whispered, slowly lowering her weapon. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“Steve made it his mission to take down Hydra once and for all. He thinks you’re our best bet. But we…” Bucky sighed and scratched his jaw. She glared again. Just when she thought everything was making some sort of sense.

“But what?”

“But I’m not Hydra. I won’t force you to stay. But these are the good guys. They got all of that shit out of my head, the fog.” He didn’t know how to do this, how to talk her down. “You’d be safe with us. We can help, you just have to let us.”

She was moving slow, shuffling back away from him. He didn’t notice until it was too late.

“I’ve never been safe with you before.” She started scrambling away faster now, hardly staying on her feet. Bucky only followed her a few steps, not chasing her but simply staying close enough to try and convince her. “I don’t want your help, and I sure as hell won’t be your bait.”

She turned and sprinted down the darkened street. He called out, running his flesh hand through his hair. He stood in the cold and watched, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. Letting her go was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Or maybe it was the most moronic idea he’d ever had. Either way, he couldn’t stand the idea of her being locked up like she was some force of evil. So what if Steve got mad at him? They’d worked through plenty of fights before.

Once he could no longer make out her silhouette against the dark, he turned and headed back inside. He had hoped the night air would help clear his mind and settle his anxiety, but now he was going back to bed with even more worries clogging his mind.

The walk to his room was silent aside from Sam’s snoring through his slightly ajar door. He paused outside Steve’s door. He should tell him, maybe they could convince her to come back. But even his loyalty to his best friend was challenged by the building protectiveness over this near stranger.

He locked the door to his room and settled on the edge of his bed. He didn’t understand the way he was battling with himself. The only people he’d ever been so protective over were his family and Steve. He never imagined he’d find someone he cared about so much, especially not in someone who didn’t want anything to do with him. It was overwhelming, and Bucky knew deep down that if anything ever hurt her, he’d never forgive himself. Come hell or high water he’d protect her. He would save her if it was the last thing he ever did.

He dropped his head into his hands, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes until color sprouted in his vision. He’d first seen her when she was tiny. She was so much different now. He wondered if that little girl was still trapped inside her. She had nobody in the world, it made him feel like he’d vomit. Even when he was the most alone in the world, he still had Steve, and he still barely managed. She wouldn’t go through this alone. She’d have him.

She didn’t manage to run very far before she collapsed in a mess of tears and gasps for air. Her entire world was crashing down around her. She didn’t know anything anymore, not for sure. And something in her wanted to trust him with her life.

She sniffled and choked on her sobs. How pathetic could she get, crying in the middle of the street because she was scared. She’d been scared her entire life, this was no different. She swiped her cheeks clean of tears and took a deep breath. That was enough.

She picked herself and walked on a while longer. She had no idea how long she’d been walking, her mind in some sort of daze, but the sky was still dark and the world around her was still quiet. It was late enough to allow her to spare some time, and she desperately needed rest. Going on like she was would simply get her killed, or worse. 

So she slipped into an alley, snug between two small buildings. It wasn’t the worst place she’d slept by far. So she settled in, tucking herself out of sight of the street behind a trash bin. Being hidden brought at least a little comfort.

The cement was hard, and bitterly cold beneath her, and the bin dug uncomfortably into her back. But at least she was free. It didn’t take a long time for her to fall asleep, the quiet of the night lulling her into a sense of comfort. For a moment, the stress, the terror, the agony of reality was washed away.

But peace could only last so long.

A hand clasped over her mouth, and hot breath fanned over her neck. She squirmed, eyes darting around as even more figures came into view, all with guns leveled at her.

“You had us worried, принцесса. You’re a hard one to find.” The man behind her hissed into her ear. She thrashed, teeth closing as hard as her jaw would allow on her captor’s hand. He tore away from her. She grimaced, the taste of his blood invading her mouth.

“You little bitch,” He roared. She had barely made it to her feet before she felt a sharp prick. Her eyes widened and she screamed for help. Sedatives. The strong kind, the kind they used on her when she was young and defiant, she was sure.

He head swam, but she fought desperately to escape anyway. She couldn’t stay steady on her feet, having to clutch the wall or the trash bin to stay standing. She tried to run, but only managed a couple steps before her wobbly legs gave out completely. She tumbled to the ground, her palms scraping against asphalt, and her head jolting forward until her head hit the pavement. She groaned, giving up on escape. This was hopeless.

Then her vision faded to black.

Tag List: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @dustyinkpages // @believeitseeitdoit // @ravenesque // @this-is-mycrisis // @xmtd5 // @someonekeepstakingmyusernames // @greeniemoon // @wayward-student-philosopher // @messedupmyfuckinglife // @yourwonderbelle // @booboobella01 // @kpoplover1306xdepressedgirl315 // @heybbyitsdarkoutside // @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve // @rebekahdawkins // @2132981 // @starbooty // @comebackanothertime // @condy-wants-a-cookie // @thedaisydeer

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #imagine #x reader #marvel cinematic universe imagine #marvel cinematic universe x reader #marvel cinematic universe #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu #a soldier's spring #wandas-sunshine

[zanathan-aisling]

RTD Doctor Who:

+ character-facing storytelling with a strong heart. can’t really say more

+ occasionally fantastic writing

+ camp 

+ Donna was excellent

+ Martha was alright and the fact she felt like a grown woman was good

+ generally liberal in terms of politics which is something at least, it kept up with the general spiritual grounding of the classic series pretty well (regrettably for good and for bad but. well i mention the whole deal with mickey in the “-“s section down there)

+ actually got Moffat to write some decent material

+ really interesting aliens amoungst the random animal people, especially on its rare off-earth-trips

+ actually mostly resolves story lines in a way that at least has a sense of internal logic

+ Donna’s grandpa was excellent too

+ when the series did decide to ramp up emotional stakes in an actually mature way it was outright brilliant (see: Dalek, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Damned, Midnight, Turn Left, the conclusion of Waters of Mars wrt mortal causality and the doctors arrogant betrayal thereof, etc)

+ his era’s dalek designs were fuckin excellent

+ i even have a lot of intellectually stimulating things to say about its negatives

- Skeletor long-jumping lighting-hands speed-eating low-rent-riddler-impersonator master who has none of his classic-who dignity (even in sound of drums) and whose story implies him being just an outright abuser just to make it so that someone besides the doctor or one of the main cast has to shoot him uwu 

- the “he will knock four times” foreshadowing thing was fine in itself but a) it should’ve found actually omniscient beings with a reasonable explanation why to parrot it instead of just a human turning out to be psychic and the ood being inexplicably advanced

- it often forgets how time travel works (the doctor rushing into his tardis so he isn’t late to an even that happeneds thousands of years before and hopefully stops it before it already happens, for instance) 

- Rose sucks, i can’t quite put it into words but i don’t like her. also the arc of her and the doctor falling in luv is fucking gross since its equivalent to bestiality in a broad sense. also russel expecting me to feel sad about it three-and-a-wierd-specials-season in a row? L . what did the doctor even see in her. 

-the way mickey is depicted is racist and the fact that after a few seasons of not being around very much he and martha are suddenly a couple for The End of Time. when martha was already IN a relationship with another guy and the only explanation Russel gave as to why was that the guy was abusive off-screen. also martha and mickey never interacted much. so russel invokes abuse just to pair the only major black protagonists from his run together even though they hardly interacted and don’t even have chemistry? i don’t think i’m qualified to even explain the ways this sucks but G-d its awful

-the slitheen are fucking stupid and walking fart jokes. also their plan relies on literally everyone else being stupid too. Boom Town was alright though. 

- Rassilon went from “omnipotent time-god who was imprisoned in eternal slumber in this weird hunting ground-y hell-reminiscent-kinda place called the Death Zone (and even though he was asleep he could still petrify people instantly if he wants and is very much conscious so like. if he was awake he’d probably be in complete control of the universe as those in the story know it)” to “impotent angry supervillain fashy man who rules the time lords and needs a glove to disintegrate one person at a time and gets fucking owned by a hungry skeletor with stubble” and there isn’t even an explanation WHY

- the doctor tended to be a smug prick 

- this is petty but the doctor was too young/conventionally attractive 

- honestly most importantly the doctors hardline stance against killing of any kind is fucking disgusting. people bring up Batman as the primo “oh no uwu i cant kill this man who’s killed hundreds bc it’ll make me feel bad uwu” but the doctor REFUSES TO KILL SOMEONE WHO’S A LEGITIMATE DANGER TO ALL LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE AND MASS MURDERER OF ENTIRE POPULATIONS AND EVEN HAS THE FUCKING GALL TO HUG HIM AND SAY “ I FORGIVE YOU” ONCE HES WON AND THE MASTER WOULD OTHERWISE BE GOOD AS DEAD. DOES BATMAN HUG THE JOKER WHILE THE JOKER’S KNIFE IS STILL BLOODIED?! NO!!

- also the series hypes up the doctor as way more important in the grand scheme than he really should be. its hard to feel invested when the protagonist is space jesus

- the plot arcs it does hardly connect within themselves by any actual logic (this is mostly about bad wolf and the doctors regen though tbh) 

- tonally it was all over the place

- also it relied on old who aliens too much for finales

~Most importantly, and this is weirdly also kinda a positive since its a direct complement to the showrunner, given his actual writing skill its obvious Russel was dumbing everything down for mass appeal when he absolutely did not need to 

i was originally just going to write both russel’s and moffat’s runs but tbh i’m fucking tired expect part 2 where i rip moffat into small bloody chunks even worse than i did here to russel eventually maybe

#doctor who #racism

[f-nodragonart]

@blackeyedkids-official: Shin Godzilla is supposed to invoke radiation burns with his design and his whole thing is that he's an unnatural metamorphosis of whatever a Godzilla is supposed to look like in this continuity so I think it's intentional

@leafex: 2016 Godzilla is ugly as sin and I love him. The movie really sells that he's a walking ball of unnatural pain

ooooo I like that, actually. I’m a lot more willing to excuse his broken/warped look, if that’s the case

@party-werewolf: I don’t see what’s so hard to take seriously about shin Godzilla’s design. It’s supposed to look unnatural and imposing, whether or not it’s using a suit. 98 Godzilla just doesn’t have that presence or sense of awe. And yeah it’s not anatomically possible but that’s why it’s called science fiction, you gotta stretch your imagination.

come come, sit with me, right here-- yes, right here next to me. comfortable? good, now let me repeat to you, in no uncertain terms, the EXACT question that was posited to me about Godzilla in that ask:

“which iteration do you think has the more plausible/reasonable anatomy?”

I wasn’t asked to give an in-depth analysis on how each Godzilla’s design fits in their narrative, nor on the meta-commentary each design achieves. hell, I even SAID OUTRIGHT I hadn’t seen any of the movies besides 2014, so I couldn’t comment on the narratives. while I do appreciate context, as it helps me better understand the design (and possibly even gives me enough reason to give the designs a pass, as seen in my response to the replies above), at the end of the day, that wasn’t the purpose of that post. that post was PURELY an anatomical critique, and given context or not, Shin Godzilla has godawful anatomy. context may explain or even outright excuse bad anatomy in certain cases, but it’s important to still be able to recognize what actually even IS bad anatomy in the first place. not a lot of ppl are able to recognize bad anatomy, even if that bad anatomy is intentional, so I’ll ALWAYS point it out, no matter the context. especially considering, y’know, someone ASKED me to do exactly that

and as a quick side-note, I prolly didn’t elaborate as much as I should have on why I couldn’t take Shin Godzilla seriously. while the anatomy takes me out of the experience to some degree, it’s more the body’s movement and weight/presence on-screen that feels off (at least what I could see from various trailers like one, but maybe it isn’t as bad in the actual movie). from what I can see, the only part of the body that moves w/ any sort of life and fluidity is the tail, while the rest of the body is weirdly stiff. this is esp tru for the upper half off the body, w/ arms that I don’t see move at all, and a head that only moves for the close-up head-shot roaring scene. this may have also been intentional, to imply that Godzilla has been injured by the radiation, but it looks WAYY off when paired w/ such a mobile tail (like why isn’t the tail equally stiff from injury?). it just gives the impression of a dude in a suit that doesn’t have a lot of ability to move around and emote w/ the body, which is why I can’t take Shin Godzilla seriously

-Mod Spiral

#mod spiral #replies #godzilla #blackeyedkids official #blackeyedkids-official #leafex #party werewolf #party-werewolf

[rose-edith]

That Empty Feeling, part one.

Who could say they knew what ordinary was? Well Y/N certainly couldn’t, but then a childhood filled with the thoughts of others- whether these thoughts be good or bad- was hardly the norm for the other children of Earth. Y/N was born to the Betazoid ambassador to Earth, Leilani and her human husband Charlie Jones. But unlike other half betazoid beings Y/N was able to hear the thoughts but not feel the emotions of the people around them. Y/N was unique, quiet and misunderstood, even Leilani couldn’t comprehend Y/N, the void of feeling surrounding her child complexed and frightened the poor woman.

Nonetheless Y/N sought to have an adventure filled life, they longed for far away planets, brand new life and culture, for a whole new experience of living. So that’s exactly what the half human-betazoid did, Y/N graduated at the very top of the linguistic class in their year, surpassing even the exemplary track record of the famous Lt. Uhura. So with a happy heart and light step the young Y/N Jones stepped up on stage to shake the hand of the very Lt. that they had dreamed about meeting in order to accept a new position on board the USS Enterprise as Uhura’s second in command for the linguistic station. Cheers rang all through the auditorium, and though Y/N could hear the well wishes and some slight jealousy from her fellow alumni, they felt no joy or happiness. Just empty, as always. Y/N didn’t even feel frustration at the same lack of feeling as they had always experienced, they just felt nothing. As the young graduate smiled and accepted the ceremonial pad containing the details of the assignment a new voice entered their mind, an intriguing voice that was mumbling profanities about pointless ceremonies. Y/N concentrated on it, using her expert skills to find the point of origin. It was a man, two seats to the left of the stage, when Y/N caught sight of the person as they made their way to return to their seat the young person saw that the voice in question was none other than their new captain, James. T. Kirk. Y/N reasoned that the emotion a normal person was supposed to be experiencing was curiosity and a desire to know more. Y/N however, felt nothing. They made their way to their seat and smiled as if overjoyed.

*Time Skip*

Ambassador Jones and her husband watched as the Enterprise left space dock, taking with her their only and most precious child Y/N. Even from their position on the bridge beside Lt. Uhura Y/N (due to her close mental bond with their parents) could hear the frets and fears and promises stampeding through the minds of the parents. The h/c haired beauty turned their attention back to their station, making sure to acknowledge that the Enterprise had received the final information transfer about the mission the crew were embarking on.

“Time to get this show on the road Mr Sulu.” Captain Kirk clapped the helmsman on the back as he sauntered last and slithered into his seat.

“Aye Sir.” He put the Enterprise into warp and began the journey to Silaust Seven, where the ship would be rendezvousing with the USS Hopeful for crew transfer.

Commander Spock held out the final paddy to the Captain who gave it a cursory read before signing it. Then he swiftly swivelled in his seat to face Y/N, they turned before Kirk even opened his mouth to speak, earning a twitch of the eyebrow.

“Junior Lt. Jones, welcome to the crew. I’m told you’re an extra special addition given your uniqueness of being, though everyone refuses to discuss why. Could you enlighten me?” He flashed that charming smile that made all the other women, and some men on the bridge start to think about how beautiful their Captain is.

“I am half betazoid half human Sir.”

“So you’re an empath?” He produced an apple from his pocket and started munching on it. “Hardly unique given that there is a whole community on Betazed of half human half betazoid beings.”

“You’re correct in many ways but one Sir.” Y/N stared deep into the blue eyes of their Captain. “All other persons like me are empaths, I am not. Unlike all other human-betazoid beings I am a telepath only.”

The Captains left eyebrow rose a margin, even Commander Spock stopped tapping at the controls on his station and turned his attention to the exchange before him. According to the subdued mental dialogues of all the people on the bridge they too were listening.

“So you can’t detect others feelings? Just their thoughts? That must suck. Still, at least you have your own feelings to console you.” He smiled in what (according to his thoughts) he meant to appear as a friendly manner.

“I have no feelings Sir. I never have, though it cannot be explained why not. That is my unique point Captain, I am a half betazoid who has no feeling or comprehension of feeling at all. It shouldn’t be possible.” The young person shrugged.

“So like a Vulcan?” Kirk’s probed.

“More or less,” Y/N nodded. “Although I am more physically affectionate and highly telepathic.”

“But no feelings? God that must be awful. Never to know love, happiness, joy, sorrow.” He became lost in his own world of memories for a moment.

“Captain, you seem to believe that only a life filled with emotion can be fulfilling, I as a Vulcan have a fulfilling life without emotion. I am sure Lt. Jones does too.” Spock spoke clearly, many people agreed with him.

“Of course, I meant no disrespect to you Spock, nor to you Lt. Jones. Simply that you must have felt left out on Earth.” He nodded solemnly.

“Don’t concern yourself Sir, as I have no emotion I have no concept of being ‘left out’. It doesn’t matter to me. As for a fulfilling life, fulfilment is an emotion- I want a successful life, rooted in what’s real, not the abstract uncertainties of the emotions that envelope your lives.” Y/N turned back to their station, aware that a new message had popped up on screen.

Kirk kept staring at the back of the head of his new communications staff. They were a puzzle, perhaps he could try to invoke an emotional response. Y/N rolled their eyes, that had been attempted many times.

“God,” He sighed “that’s so much worse than being a Vulcan, at least they have feelings, even if they do control and purge them.”

“I am not capable of being provoked Sir.” Y/N spoke over their shoulder, eyes never leaving their screen. “I am not offended, I’m not capable of feeling it. Forgive me Sir, I must go down to Communication lab Seven, there seems to be an issue. Permission to leave bridge Lt Uhrua?”

“Granted.”

Y/N stood from their station and entered the waiting turbo lift. The last sight they saw as the doors slid shut was the look of curiosity in Captain Kirk’s face, Y/N knew that in this situation other people might be frightened or curious themselves. But Y/N still felt nothing, although logical thought made her decide to listen more carefully to the thoughts of her Captain in the future.

#this is my first thing #please comment #betazoid/human reader #gender neutral #james kirk x reader #star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #Spock #Uhura #shall i do a part two?