#dr raynor appreciation post

[duchessonfire]

Let me tell you why I love Dr Christina Raynor's portrayal in TF&TWS

First, let me preface this by saying I am here talking about Dr Raynor as a character in a work of fiction and the originality of her portrayal as a narrative tool, not at Dr Raynor as if she were a real doctor (but more on that down below).

I have never been in therapy myself, but I've been raised by mental healthcare providers: my dad is a psychiatrist, my mother worked as a nurse in a psychiatric hospital (that's where they met, romantic right?), my sister and her husband are both therapists.

My parents are both retired now, but let me tell you, growing up in that sort of family is certainly interesting and it has generally affected my perception of how mental healthcare providers are depicted in fiction.

My general experience is that the depiction of therapists/psychiatrists in mainstream fiction can be divided into two archetypes (and here I wish I could say I was exaggerating, but unfortunately, I don't even have to): the nice woman who will smile softly as you speak and only intervene to ask you meaningful questions/give insightful advice or, at the other end of the spectrum, the old and devious man who will make you feel worse than when you came in (no hate on Hannibal Lecter, I love him).

The first trope is especially prevalent in my main fandom, Marvel and more precisely Stucky. Usually, the therapist character is used as a narrative tool signaling that Bucky and/or Steve as working through their shit and, surprise, surprise, they are often seeing very nice female characters who let them take their time and don't prod them too much, just enough to help them move forward. Unfortunately, this trope is also often applied to the character of Sam Wilson who is sometimes reduced to an "emotional support character" to Steve and/or Bucky.

So here is my two cents on this take: therapists/psychiatrists are real persons with real flaws, and just because they lose their patience once in a while doesn't automatically put them in the "psycho/toxic doctor" box.

My parents are mental healthcare providers and even though they are good at their job, they annoy the shit out of me sometimes and let me tell you, I can also annoy the shit out of them. We argue, we fight, sometimes we scream at each other. And that's perfectly fine because we are all people.

This is why seeing Dr. Raynor's character was so refreshing. Here is a real character, with several sides to her, and not just a patsy of what therapy would look like in an ideal world. She gets impatient, she snaps at Bucky, she rolls her eyes at him and tells him when he's feeding her bullshit. Again, I'm not taking about the effectiveness of this approach but I'm underlining the originality of this portrayal in a work of fiction.

I know people in the fandom have issues with her because "her methods are questionable" but if you are going to take her fictional character and judge her as you would a real doctor, let me remind you that her patient is a +100yo former POW from WW2-turned assassin-turned avenger superhero who was just snapped out of existence for five years. So... yeah... I think we can cut her some slack and say that she's sort of being innovative in her healing process.

I fucking love the depiction of Christina Raynor because it treats her as a normal character, not as a healing angel or a villain, but just as a realistic woman and shout out the actress playing her. I encourage all fan-content creators to remember that your fictional mental healthcare providers can be made as three-dimensional characters with bad tempers and flaws and I will read the shit out of it.

#tfatws #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #christina raynor #dr raynor #dr raynor appreciation post #marvel #the winter soldier #captain america #fictional psychiatrists #fictional mental health care providers #fictional characters #stucky #hot take #controversial take #tw mental health #tw psychiatry #therapy #mental health #mental health in fiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon #opinion post #marvel opinions

[peterpparkrr]

(Bucky Barnes x reader): Sessions

Summary: The reader goes to therapy, sees a new face. 

A/N: I’m gonna try and work through my writer’s block by posting little blurbs each week for FatWS - they’ll probably end up being Very short because y’know, it’s my final semester of college but I want to do something that’ll actually make me happy.

Dr. Gardiner said that it was normal. Well, not normal, exactly, but common. Apparently, it’s a common experience among those with complex PTSD to feel on edge, startled, even seemingly without reason. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean shit when you were standing in the waiting room, staring at the guy sitting in the blue chair in front of you. Sitting in your spot, the chair you’d decided was the best spot in the waiting room a long time ago, you could see everything from that chair, everyone who came in and out of the area. 

Talking to people has never been your strong suit, and initiating a conversation with a stranger? A man? A strange, scary-looking man? After everything you’d been through? 

But Dr. Gardiner wanted you to practice imitating small talk with strangers. It was part of the exposure therapy that she wanted you to try working through. 

“Hi,” You said quietly as you sat down on the other side of the waiting room, a few chairs over from the man. You didn’t look him in the eyes, but you let your eyes hover on the large painting behind him. 

He smiled at you but didn’t reply verbally. 

You breathed out a sigh of relief. That wasn’t so bad, now was it?

---

“I said hi to a man in the waiting room,” You tell your therapist as you try to get comfortable on the couch across from her.

“And?” Dr. Gardiner prompts you.

“A lot of Dr. Raynor’s patients are working through trauma too, right?” 

You knew they were, Dr. Raynor and Dr. Gardiner are both VA therapists. Dr. Gardiner had been appointed by the state as your therapist after-

Well, that’s not important right now.

“I assume so, but you know we don’t talk to each other or anyone else about your clients, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, doctor-patient confidentially or whatever.” You tell her dismissively as you wave your hand around. 

But she just stares at you, silently encouraging you to continue with your story.

“He seemed different from the other vets that I usually see in the waiting room. He was less jittery. But it made me… I felt nervous. But I guess knowing he was probably just as fucked as I am made it so I didn’t feel so afraid.”

“I’m not sure what I would have done if he’d actually started a conversation with me.” You admit after a few moments. While you’d been doing Dr. Gardiner’s homework for a few weeks, you knew that in New York City of all places, the chances of anyone actually saying anything back to you were pretty low. Even if they looked friendly you couldn’t guarantee you’d even get a “hello” in return. 

“That’s alright, we can work up to that,” Dr. Gardiner tells you, “Other than your interaction in the waiting room, how was your week? Have the breathing exercises been working?”

“Kinda,” You lie. Of course, they’re not. Most of the stuff Dr. Gardiner tells you to do doesn’t work. The drugs cause just as many problems as they solve, and the breathing exercises, the homework, it makes you feel worse most of the time. But you can’t tell her that - it’s supposed to be helping. She’s supposed to be helping. 

“(Y/N), you need to be honest with me if this is supposed to work.”

“I just feel bad. I know it’s supposed to help, that it’s supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn’t.” You tell her, “I just can’t seem to calm myself down. No matter how hard I try.” 

“Maybe we can come up with some new exercises to try instead.”

“Yeah,” You nod as you look down at your hands, which you notice you’ve been wringing in your lap, seemingly without your awareness.

“We need to work together to come up with solutions, (Y/N), but I need you to be honest with me when things aren’t working, okay?”

“I… I just don’t want you to feel like you’re not doing a good job,” You shrug, “I know you’re trying to help, and I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Some things just don’t work, and we can try different ones, it’s no one fault. It’s not a failure when one of the solutions we come up with doesn’t work, it’s just part of the process to find a solution that does help.”

You don’t say anything, but nod. 

“This seems like another stuck point for you, (Y/N), now why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” You mutter

“Do you think there’s a reason that this brings up some really negative emotions for you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think that maybe this perceived failure ties back to something that happened when you were-”

“Maybe I was fucked up before the kidnapping! I don’t know anymore! I just felt bad, why is that wrong?!” You shout.

“(Y/N), please calm down,” Dr. Gardiner says slowly as she looks up after your unexpected outburst with alarm.

“No! Maybe I’m tired of trying to make this situation feel okay because guess what? It’s not okay! Every day I have to live with what those guys did to me! I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything, and you keep telling me that it’ll get better, but it’s not, if anything it’s getting worse. And I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay!”

As your screaming in Dr. Gardiner’s face, you don’t even realize you’re standing up now, but the room is too hot, and it’s starting to get way too small and you feel like you’re suffocating.

You can’t breathe all of a sudden and it’s all too much. You push your way out of her office.

As you stormed out of the office you nearly plowed directly into someone. The guy from earlier. Dr. Raynor’s patient.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay?” He asks as he reaches out to you.

“I’m fine!” You all but shout, “Don’t. Touch. Me.” You spit in his face as you rip your arm out of his grasp.

“Hey, hey,” Dr. Gardiner says as she comes rushing out behind you and leads you back towards her office, “Thank you, I’ve got her,” She says to the guy as she tries to herd you away from him.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)? Can you hear me? We’re gonna try one of those new exercises now, okay? I’m going to need you to sit down for me.”

You all but collapse to the floor of the hallway as Dr. Gardiner starts to walk you through the breathing exercise and ground you again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes headcanon #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws #fatws imagine #bucky barnes imagine #fatws fanfic #fatws reader insert #fatws oneshot

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (3)

Chapter Three- Found You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: The three of you decide to take matters into your own hands which lead to the most unexpected alliance.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Hey everyone! This chapter covers the second half of episode 2 and the beginning of ep 3. Subtle hints of Bucky x reader here and there, but more importantly I want to cover how the reader plays into the dynamics of relationships in the series.

More Bucky x reader interactions in the next chapter, I promise!

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join in with a message or comment in the chapters!

Leave a comment to let me know what you think! 🥰

I really appreciate it! 🙏🏼

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Four

-------------------------//---------------------------

The three of you changed back to more comfortable clothes before meeting up to find the man that Bucky wanted you and Sam to meet.

Walking on the streets of a neighbour in Baltimore, you were curious to know who the mysterious man was. As Bucky continued to lead the way, a kid on the street called out to Sam calling him the Black Falcon.

You beamed widely at the innocence of the kid who was excited to see a hero he had known. Sam went on to correct the kid and ended up engaging in funny banter with the kid.

You couldn’t help but grin at how effortless Sam was with people. He was different from Steve but you knew that Sam embodied his spirit with his own character. He would be such as good captain in your heart.

Soon, the three of you arrived at the house and Bucky went to knock on the door. When someone came to answer the door, you tried to put on your friendliest face to greet them.

Bucky asked for someone named Isaiah to which the young boy in front of you claimed that there was no one of that name.

Bucky didn’t give up and continue pressing on, claiming that you all just wanted to talk. It wasn’t very obvious but you could tell the boy was starting to get defensive and reiterated his point.

He was hiding something and didn’t want the three of you to inquire further. As a last resort, Bucky asked the boy to pass on a message that he was sure to able to reach out to the person you were supposed to meet.

The boy told us to wait while he closed the door. Sam questioned about how Bucky had met this person to which he replied that they met back during the Korean war. If your calculations, that was almost 70 years ago which only meant this person must at least be in his nineties.

Your deduction was confirmed when you were all let into the house and you came face to face with an aged man. The man looked less than friendly and was looking over the three of you with a hardened expression.

Gingerly walking closer, you saw how the man known as Isaiah looked fit for someone of his age. Bucky started off by introducing both you and Sam to Isaiah and vice versa. You tried to put on a polite smile despite the tense atmosphere.

Bucky went on to explain how Isaiah was a hero and was once feared most by HYDRA, just like how Steve was and that they met in 1951.

Isaiah took over the conversation and that was when you learnt that Isaiah was with the U.S military and they had sent him to go after Bucky when he was still the Winter Soldier. You could the small smile forming as he retold of how he managed to take out Bucky’s metal arm in Goyang.

You thought that Isaiah was starting to warm up but as he continued speaking, you knew he was still reserved.

“I’m not a killer anymore,” Bucky emphasized to Isaiah but the aged man wasn’t pleased.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be? It doesn’t work like that. Well, maybe it does for folks like you.” Isaiah responded as he stared back straight into Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing on. He explained the situation that there were possibly more super soldiers like him and Isaiah. When you heard that, your eyes widened in shock at the revelation.

“I’m not going to talk about it anymore.” Isaiah was seething with anger and threw a metal box into the wall. The non-blunt object that impaled into the wooden wall only serves to exemplify how Isaiah was enhanced like Steve and Bucky.

You winced at his action and looked over to see the young boy who you presumed to be Isaiah’s grandson looking down in silence.

Isaiah stepped closer towards Bucky and spoke once more. This time, instead of lashing out, his voice was shaking.

“You know what they did to me for being a hero?” Isaiah paused shortly before speaking his next sentence. “They put my ass in jail for 30 years.”

Once you heard his words, you immediately looked down with indescribable emotions. Isaiah continue to tell of how he was treated like nothing more than an object, having people run tests on him, taking his blood and going into his cells.

“Even your people weren’t done with me.” Isaiah directed his words at Bucky once more.

Sam tried to calm Isaiah down but the man was livid. He shouted for all three of you to leave his home and everyone retreated without a question. As Sam and Bucky filed out of the door, you turned your back to throw a last look at Isaiah who was still fuming silently.

You gave a slight bow to show a sign of respect and apology.

“A warning, miss.” Surprised to hear Isaiah speak to you directly, you looked up to meet his eyes.

“My grandson spoke of you before. You and I are the same even if we were made differently.”

“What? I don’t understand.” Blinking your eyes in confusion, you waited to hear Isaiah’s explanation.

“I don’t know how you have gotten your abilities. But if you don’t stay low and keep your head down, they will come for you and do the same things to you that they did to me.” You took a sharp intake of breath at Isaiah’s warning. It only heightened the fears you already had, making it more real.

You thanked Isaiah quietly before making a move to catch up with your friends. When you reached the steps, Bucky and Sam were already walking ahead of you.

You proceeded to follow them before glancing back to see Isaiah’s grandson giving you a nod of acknowledgement before he closed the door. You could already the argument as Sam confronted Bucky on why he only let you two know about Isaiah only now.

Sam continued to question why there was a Black super soldier decades ago and why nobody knew about it?

“Guys, let’s not do this here-” You tried to intervene when you noticed a police car driving around the corner to where you all were.

The car stopped at where you all stood and the officers stepped out to inquire about what was going on. Sam replied that everyone was just talking and it was nothing to worry about. When the officers started asking for identification, Sam remarked that he didn’t have any.

Bucky tried to pacify the officers who insisted to engage in the situation. It was not a pleasant exchange of words as it seemed like it was going nowhere with the officers trying to probe and Sam trying to deflect.

“There’s nothing going on. We are all just friends talking things out.” You tried to give a brief but succinct explanation to get the officers to back off.

The officer clearly ignored your words before continuing to ask Bucky if Sam was bothering him. Bucky had it and went ahead to ask if the officer actually knew who Sam was.

Another officer came up to whisper into his partner’s ear and you could hear him telling him of your identities. The officer quickly retracted his initial behaviour and apologised to Sam.

“Mam.” You see the officer now acknowledging your presence only when he knew of your title.

You just grimly stared back in response before looking around to see that you have gained the attention of onlookers in the neighbourhood. The officers went back to the vehicle while Bucky continued from where you all left off on the conversation.

Bucky explained that he didn’t let anyone know about Isaiah since the man had been through so much. You had to agree on his reasoning and you knew Sam did too.

The officer came out again to let Bucky know that there was a warrant out for his arrest.

“Look, the president pardoned him for all that,” Sam interjected but the officer claimed it was not for that reason. Instead, Bucky had missed his court-mandated therapy and that was akin to missing a check-in with a parole officer.

He apologised before having to call for Bucky’s arrest. As Bucky walked over to the car, the officer took out the handcuffs. That set you off as you marched forward.

“Hey, don’t treat him like a criminal. He’s not going to do anything.” You tried intervening to which the officers telling you that it was standard protocol.

“Don’t worry, doll. It’s fine.” Bucky gave you a brief smile before getting into the back of the car. He gave Sam a last look before giving you one that tried to reassure you once more. As the police car drove off, Sam approached you and you two made your way to the police station together.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Once you arrived at the station, you sat with Sam as you waited for Bucky’s release. From the corner of your eye, you could see Dr Raynor, Bucky’s therapist coming to approach the two of you.

“Sam, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Dr Raynor extended a hand to Sam before continuing to introduce herself. As you met eyes with her next, she moved her hand to you and you returned the gesture.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

“Likewise, doctor”. You exchanged pleasantries with her before Sam gave his thanks to her for getting Bucky out. Dr Raynor denied the credits for it and the two of you exchanged a confused look before you heard a familiar voice.

“Christina!”

You and Sam managed to mirror the exact same expression before he inquired how Dr Raynor knew John Walker. Apparently, they worked together back in their military days.

What a small world.

With a smug look, John claimed that Bucky would not need to follow a strict schedule which raised your brows in question. Dr Raynor asked whose authorization was this on to which John pointed to himself with a pleased smile.

You wished you could wipe it off his face.

“He’s too valuable of an asset to be tied up. Just do whatever you go to do with him, then send him off to me.” That word was a trigger for you. Knowing Bucky’s past and how that word only reduced him to some sort of objectification. You couldn’t help the need to say your piece to him.

“Don’t talk about him like that.” You shot back to Walker and he gave you a quizzed look. “Like what?”

“Like his only value boils down to how well he can fight for your task force. You talk about him like he’s some object for your use when he’s a person.” You tried defending Bucky’s honour.

Sensing your enmity, John raised two hands to show that he meant no harm.

“A little bit too much here, Y/N. You’re his girlfriend or something?” John’s casual remark took you aback especially for what he implied in the second sentence. A sudden sense of shyness overcame you as you did not what to say in response.

You struggled for the right words to say and looked over to Sam who gave you an inquisitive look before you saw Bucky coming out. You made no indication to give John Walker an answer as you made your way towards your friend.

You could hear John saying that he had unfinished business with Bucky, Sam and you before indicating he will be waiting outside.

“Hey, you okay?” You spoke softly to Bucky who nodded in response. “They didn’t do anything to you, right?” You added on. Your worry for Bucky only made him grinned at how you were so concerned over him.

Bucky placed his hand at the back of your head and stroked your hair to calm you down.

“I’m fine. Really.” Bucky tried to convince you as you pouted. His hand mover over to your cheeks as he went on to hold your face gently. Bucky gave you a small pinch on your cheeks to tease how you could look cute while being worried at the same time.

“James, condition of your release, a session now. You too, Sam.” Dr Raynor instructed. Sam tried to excuse himself but Dr Raynor was not having it, saying it wasn’t a request. As she looked over at you, she gave you a reassuring smile.

“Would just need these two boys. You’re fine, dear.” Nodding politely to her, you tried to tell the boys to behave with a faked stern expression as they turned back to give you the last look before they walked off with Dr Raynor.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Turned out the session didn’t really go well when you saw both men walked out with hardened expressions on their faces. As the three of you stepped out of the precinct, you saw a flash of red and blue lights accompanied by the sound of a siren.

You looked over to see John and Lemar leaning against a police car and reluctantly approached them.

John once again tried to propose that it was better to work together. Sam considered it for a moment and decided to inquire further. Apparently, the leader of the Flag Smashers is Karli Morgenthau. Civilians have been helping this group to hide safely from the authorities and move to new locations discreetly.

Her rough location was predicted to be in displaced communities across central and eastern Europe. Bucky being the cynic he was towards John Walker tried to get John Walker to give an exact location.

The two of them gave heated exchanges before Bucky decided to taunt John Walker. You could see the latter’s patience wearing thin. He was trying to be patient and nice with all of you all this while but you were all hard on him.

You almost started to feel a little bad.

Sam stepped in before it felt like things were going to escalate and reiterated the most important point- which was that the Flag Smashers had to be stopped at all costs.

They were too dangerous to be roaming out freely on their own. Shoot, it sounded hypocritical coming from you when you were experiencing the same thing. They weren’t killing anyone, they were just trying to deliver medicines and vaccines to vulnerable communities.

Was that really a bad thing? You thought.

You turned your attention back to the conversation and picked up from how Sam said that it was better that you all were separately from John and Lemar. After all, you were all free agents versus them working under an establishment.

It would be challenging for you three to have to conform and work with stipulated regulations and authorizations. That was your cue to walk away but John spoke up once again, stopping you in your tracks.

“A word of advice then. Stay the hell out of my way.” It sounded more like a threat than advice.

“Y/N, last chance. The offer still stands.” John Walker shoots his last shot towards you. You peered over to see Bucky and Sam staring at you intently.

You shook your head before you spoke. “Sorry, I’m with my boys till the end.”

“You will regret it.” John tried to make you feel bad but you knew it wouldn’t work on you.

“We’ll see, Walker.” You just threw a smirk and a mock salute his way before turning back.

Sam clapped you on the back and rested his hands on your shoulder as you all walked off. Bucky placed his arms around your waist and gave you a gentle pat on your side.

For once, they were on the page on something and that was being proud of you.

As the three of you contemplated on what to do next, Bucky insinuated something in his words. Sam knew what he was implying immediately tried to refute the idea.

When the gears started shifted in your brain, you grabbed onto Bucky’s arms to stop him in his tracks. You shook your head before the words even came out.

Letting out a sigh, he tried to talk reason to you. “Doll, you know he is the only one to know all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?”

“Yes, which exactly why it is a bad idea! Do you remember what he did to you back then? To us? He’s scheming and manipulative, you can’t trust him.” You argued back.

“Y/N, he has a point if we want a start.” Sam chimed in to convince you. You begrudgingly gave in as Sam continued.

“So you’re just going to go up and sit in a room with this guy?” Bucky gave a hesitant yes.

Sam gave it a few more thoughts before affirming that it’s time to pay Zemo a visit.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The trip to pay Zemo a visit required you to pack up and head over to Germany. Standing outside the prison, your gut still told you that this was a bad idea.

Who knows if Zemo might try to get into Bucky’s head again?

Once you were led through the corridors nearing Zemo’s cell, the officer left you, Sam and Bucky. “I’m going in alone,” Bucky stated citing that considering Sam and you were both technically associated with the Avengers.

Sam refuted his reason as Zemo was still viewed as dangerous, given that a man like him could have broken up the Avengers.

Bucky emphasized that Zemo was obsessed with HYDRA and they had a history together. Your rolled your eyes at the comment and still showed your disapproval.

“Trust me, I got it.” He told Sam before looking back at you. Bucky knew you had reasonable doubts but he had to do this on his own. He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressed it affectionately for a short moment before letting go and walking off.

As you waited outside with Sam, the two of you kept quiet for a minute before Sam spoke up first.

“You know, I’m not the biggest fan of cyborg in there but he’s really lucky to have you.” Looking over to Sam who gave you an endearing gaze like a big brother would, you muttered a quiet thanks, not knowing what else to say.

“Tell me, how do you stand that grumpy old ass? Seems like he’s not a great company with his brooding all day.” Sam tried to quip to make the conversation light-hearted. You chuckled at hearing his usual snide remarks about Bucky and then took a moment to think about his question.

“He does not brood all day. You just need to know how to make him smile and laugh.” You answered thoughtfully, unbeknown to you Sam was quietly observing the expression on your face.

Your bashful grin did not go unnoticed by him but you didn’t know you were even making such an expression when you continued to talk about Bucky.

“Bucky is a cynic at times, but he’s such a softie. You know he always has lunch with his 70-year-old neighbour on Wednesday to keep him company. The man’s son passed away many years ago and he had no one left. Bucky is the only one he interacts with on most days. ” You painted a different side of Bucky, one that you were familiar with and you hope Sam could learn to know.

“After all he’s been through, I believe Bucky can overcome anything that comes his way. I hope that I can help to find himself and find peace with himself again. He deserves to be happy.” You got so engrossed in singing Bucky’s praises that you didn’t notice Sam observing you with a gleeful look.

When you realised that you have been rambling, you paused yourself to look over to see Sam with a weird expression.

“What?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“Besides Steve, I can’t see anyone who likes him as much as you do.” His words got you flustered as you felt him implying it in a different meaning.

“Well, as friends of course-” You tried to correct the context before he stopped you from finishing your sentence.

“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sis.” Sam placed his arms around your neck and ruffled your hair playfully.

“Hey!” You countered back playfully before the two of you continued to play around light-heartedly.

Your lively banter reminded you of the lighter moments from your Avenger days with your friends and you suddenly paused in our actions to give Sam a hug.

“I missed you, Sam.” Before you knew it, the tears started welling up as you started to think about old friends.

Sam returned the hug and he knew by your words what you had meant. Before Wanda, you were the youngest in the team and everyone doted on you like a baby. Even with new additions to the team, everyone still regarded you as a darling. Losing half of the team in the fight with Thanos would have the most impact on you.

Looking down at you quietly sobbing in his arms, Sam thought that even though he had seen you grown up over the years, you were always still the little sister figure in the team.

Even though you were given such extraordinary abilities and viewed as a powerful fighter, he thought that you were no different from any ordinary woman trying to live her best life.

You once confided in him that you hoped to quickly retire from fighting and live a life that would truly make you happy. The guilt started seeping in as he knew he had unknowingly dragged you back to another fight.

Once this was all over, he hoped that you can be free to live that life you wanted.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Once the visit was over, Bucky led you and Sam to a garage. He suggested the idea of breaking Zemo out of jail and both of you immediately threw up arms.

Sam thought Bucky lost his mind and you did too. Sam started listing off the reasons why getting Zemo out was a bad idea and you added in your piece. Bucky still seemed to be insistent on the idea and you literally grabbed your head in frustration.

When Bucky tried to reason and come up with a hypothetical, you already knew he was up to no good. Bucky continued talking about how a plan could be formulated to break Zemo and it sounded way too well thought out.

Sam felt uneasy just like you and exclaimed to ask Bucky where exactly you all were. When Bucky didn’t answer, Sam already turned his head to see movement from across everyone. You turned your head too to see someone entering the scene and you had a hunch you knew who it was and that you weren’t going to like it.

As Zemo stepped forward in prison warden’s uniform, you were stunned for words but more importantly, you were outraged.

“Bucky! I can’t believe you-” You exclaimed.

“Doll, let me explain.” He tried to pacify you.

“I didn’t want to tell you two because I knew you two wouldn’t let this happen.” Bucky tried to justify his actions and held Sam back from moving onto Zemo.

“You’re going back to prison.” Sam directed at Zemo before turning back to Bucky.

Zemo, for the first time, tried to speak up in the chaos.

“If I may-”

“NO!” Sam and Bucky shut him down immediately. You skipped ahead to go up to the man and grabbed him by the collars. Your hands were threatening to light up with your bright energy flames and Zemo showed a fearful look beside his usual demeanour.

“You’re gonna get it from me, you punk!” Your teeth clenched as the words came out and Zemo held his hands up in surrender.

“Apologies, miss. I mean no harm.” You felt Bucky holding you back and untangling your fingers from Zemo’s collars.

“Y/N, please listen to me first.” You unwillingly gave in once you saw Bucky give you a puppy-eyed pleading look. You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists before giving him a look that said you were willing to listen.

Bucky looked over to you and Sam, trying to appeal for your co-operation. “The two of you backed Steve when he refused to sign the Sokovia Accords. You both broke the law and stuck your neck out for me. I’m asking you to do it for me again, please.”

“I really think I’m invaluable-” Zemo tried to appeal himself but he was met with Sam’s telling of him to shut up. You turned to glare at Zemo and he backed off once more.

You and Sam looked at each other, subsequently both coming to agree on the plan. Sam then turned to Zemo and warned him to play any games. Zemo was not to even move without permission and he agreed that it was fair.

You later learnt that you were in Zemo’s personal garage and while you were amazed by his car collections, you made sure to not get distracted while you were around the man.

Zemo made clear that his intentions were to end the Winter Soldier program and thus your goals were aligned in stopping the Flag Smashers. He was even confident in knowing where to start as he gathered up his things and continued to lead the way.

You still couldn’t believe that you had to work with the man that framed Bucky and caused the lives of many innocent people to be taken away.

You could never trust him entirely and you made sure that if it counts down to the worst-case scenario, you would be willing to go further than you usually did in handling people like him.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list:

@tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #angstsfordays #marvel fanfiction #beautiful pain

[bestie-enthusiast]

Chapter 3: Sam Fills in, Zemo is not Impressed (and also has his first therapy appointment)

Hello!! This is the third chapter of my PTA! Dad! Zemo fic. This is the fifth installment of 11, and the previous chapters can be found under the hashtag pta dad zemo.

Fic Summary: After the untimely death of both his wife and father due to a bombing, Baron Helmut Zemo takes his son and immigrates to America. He does not expect to find a family nor a romantic partner, and he especially does not expect to find the ability to heal. To grieve.

And yet, here we are.

This is a story about connections, growing, healing and mourning the past while still appreciating the future and all it has to offer.

Chapter WC: 1731

Fic below cut if you're interested!

Three days later.

Zemo frowned slightly as he listened to Carol’s rant. She had called an “emergency” PTA meeting (and he was fairly certain she paid the principal to let her do it), but there was no real emergency. Instead all Carol was doing was going on and on about how her son was being “bullied” for his lack of potty training. Her child was in fourth grade, of course the other children were making fun of him.

Even worse was that Sarah hadn’t been able to come in, she was at work, and so her brother had come instead. Zemo had met him only once, at a charity event the school was hosting, and he was not at all subtle in his distaste for Zemo. So he sat in silence listening to Carol’s ranting. No one was in the mood to tell her to shut up, so they all just sat there and waited for her to tire herself out.

Once Carol was done seething she looked at them expectantly, but no one said anything. No one dared to move an inch as they waited for Carol to completely calm down. Eventually, Carol stormed out with a huff and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. A few people stood up, and Zemo stood after them. He started to walk out when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He instinctively tensed up but turned around. It was Sam.

“Sorry to bother you man, but Sarah said your, uh, butler was with AJ and Cass at a park? Sarah didn’t tell me where, so could I tag along with you?” He asked awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he spoke.

“Of course.” Zemo said, nodding. Sam trailed behind him quietly as they began their walk. Zemo almost forgot he was there, with how silent he was being. He thought about all the things he’s ever said or done to hurt any member of the Wilson family, hoping he could think of something to apologise for. He couldn’t think of anything he hadn’t already apologised for or done something to make up for, so he assumed Sam had a different reason to not like him. He didn’t wish to assume it was because of his financial state.

Eventually they made their way to the park, where Oeznik was dutifully watching over Carl, AJ, and Cass. He gave a muttered goodbye to Sam and hurried over to Carl, gently leading him away and following Oeznik to the car.

He absentmindedly listened to Carl talk about his school day as he pulled open his messenger app. He texted Sarah, just to make sure she was okay and not because Sam filling in had reminded him of how lonely he actually was. Sarah texted him back that she was busy with work, and then asked why Sam was so pissed at him. He replied that he didn’t know and she just sent back an eye roll emoji, so he let the conversation end.

He conversed with Carl on the rest of the way back, reminding himself that Sarah was just an acquaintance, and that he shouldn’t let himself get distracted from the only thing that actually mattered, that being Carl.

Sure Sarah was the only person who he trusted outside of Carl and Oeznik, but Carl was the only person that actually mattered to him any more. His consultation with Dr. Raynor was tomorrow, and while he was initially enthusiastic at the prospect, he now regarded the appointment with dread.

After letting out a quiet sigh, Zemo plastered on a large, fake grin, and helped Carl with his school work while Oeznik prepared dinner. He helped Carl get ready for bed, but tonight he did not even bother attempting to fall asleep. He holed himself up in his office, working on things until his hands shook and cramped and his vision grew blurry, at which point he took a cold shower, and resumed work.

Eventually it came time for him to get ready, so he gently woke up Carl to tell him he had an early meeting out of town, but he would be back in time to collect him from school. Carl nodded sleepily and Zemo quietly got dressed, did his hair, and carefully completed his skin care routine.

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he got into his car and started the long commute to Dr. Raynors office. If he decided to keep her as his full time therapist, he would need to find a shorter way to her office, or perhaps have only phone sessions.

He arrived fifteen minutes early, and spent the time analyzing the decor of her office and fiddling with his phone. Soon enough it was his own name being called. He stood and entered the office, shaking hands with Dr. Raynor when she offered.

“And you are… Helmut Zemo, correct?” He nodded, so used to the mispronunciation of his first name on the rare occasions it was used that he couldn’t be bothered to correct her.

“Yes, but I prefer to be referred to by just my last name.” Mentally he tacked on, ‘because you Americans say it wrong and I can’t be expected to deal with that.’

“Sure.” She said, writing something down in her notebook. “So I’ve looked over all your paperwork, but I want to know, coming from you directly, why you are here.” She said, and it didn’t sound at all like a question, more like a straight fact.

“I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, you specialise in that.” He said simply, it was the main reason anyway. He did not comment on how he believed their personalities would match, as he was only here for her to consult on whether or not she would take him on as a patient.

“Right,” She said, rolling her eyes. Zemo held back a smile, she rather reminded him of his wife- oh.

She would not work as his therapist. He thought that she would work well, as she could call him out when he refused to do it himself, but no. Talking to her, talking about his emotions to her, would just remind him too much of Heike. Zemo struggled to keep a smirk on his face, or at the very least a neutral look, while she asked him questions. He responded at least somewhat honestly, and then they continued.

“So I’m going to be honest with you, I really only take on patients that peak my interest, and you haven’t.” Zemo held back a wince at the admission, although he supposed he was purposefully making himself that way. He only talked about his time as a Sokovian soldier, not at all about the loss of his wife (or father, but that issue was buried so deep that he forgot about it on occasion), or his obsession over Carl’s schooling and keeping him happy. He did not mention the fact that he felt a rather immense amount of guilt for feeling any sort of attraction, or that he was lonely. And he purposefully kept his face as straight and closed as he possibly could throughout their entire conversation. And so Zemo couldn’t help but relax a tad bit at the statement. No wife-like therapist for him, her death was not an issue he was ready to tackle yet like he thought when he made the appointment.

“Are you- Are you relieved?” She asked incredulously, and Zemo only blinked. She had noticed the slight change in his posture when she had said that. Oops.

“I could tell we were not going to get along.” Zemo replied, and it was the truth. Or partial truth? They would get along, rather spectacularly, according to all the personality assessments the people who left reviews had said. That's what he didn’t want though, he wanted to be detached and unreliant on whichever therapist he acquired, he would become far too attached to Dr. Raynor due to her similar personality to his wife.

“That is utter bullshit. You read the reviews before coming, you knew what I was like before you even came into this room. Why are you relieved I don’t want you as my patient?” Zemo frowned and licked his lips, he was not about to tell her about his wife before they ever had a proper session. “That information is… confidential. And you are not my confidant.” Zemo replied snarkily, who did this woman think she was? She already said no, and yet here she was, still questioning him?

“I’ve changed my mind, you are a very interesting case.” Zemo didn’t know how to feel about that.

“That’s all well and good, but I’m afraid I have not changed mine.” Zemo said, giving the doctor one last, polite, smile before standing up. She stood up as well and he held out his hand for a shake, which she did.

“If you reconsider, you know my number.” She said, before letting go. He nodded and started to walk out the door. Once he was in the waiting room he was surprised to find James sitting in there, fiddling with his phone. Carefully keeping his footsteps quiet, he kept his head down and walked past James, who looked up.

“Zemo?” James asked in surprise, and he turned around to give James a smile, a real one.

“Ah, hello Mr. Barnes.” Zemo greeted back, feeling the all too familiar flutter in his heart at the sight of James. Guilt and shame crashed over him like they did every time he felt that flutter, but it didn’t deter it in the slightest.

“Bucky, please. I didn’t know you knew Dr. Raynor,” James commented with a small smile.

“Y-yes well, I’m just here for a consultation appointment.” Zemo stuttered, that smile made his heart do things, such as sending blood southwards. “Well, Dr. Raynor is the best at what she does.” James responded with a smirk, and a shrug. Zemo gave him another smile, a quick wave, and then he was on his way. As soon as he was out of the building he called Dr. Raynor left her a voicemail stating he had changed his mind, and would like to become a regular client. Seeing James every so often in a non-school setting would be worth it, maybe he’d get to see that smile pointed at him again.

Tagging: @morganbritton132 (Who came up with this AU) and @i-ll-be-the-moon (Who is a great and suportive friend!)

#pta dad zemo #tfatws #zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #fatws #fanfiction #james barnes #bucky #bucky barnes #tfatws fanfiction #fanfic #no powers au #au #au fanfiction #no powers #sarah wilson #oc #ofc #carl zemo #aj and cass #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #cuteness #grief #mourning #carol west #winterbaron #sam wilson

[nocturne-pisces]

Title: Get A Load Of This Trainwreck

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Rating: PG-13 for language, minor violence, suicidal ideation.

WC: 1.9k

Summary: You’re just a receptionist. You can’t save the world.

AN: This was inspired by a couple lines in a Cavetown song. Any notes would be appreciated. I take drabble requests, I specifically work well with the kind of whumpage like what I’ve written here. Special thanks to @frnkensteingrl​ for giving me the extra push and giving me an audience.

______________________________________________________________

You felt the pad of Bucky’s thumb trace over your knuckles as he drove. 

“I’m thinking after things-” he cleared his throat, figuring out how to phrase what was going on between them”-uh...get better. We should take a vacation. Anywhere.” 

The words echoed in your ears, registering as sounds in the English lexicon, but not really absorbing them. You’d barely spoken in the last couple weeks. Barely eaten. Barely slept.

You spent most of your time sitting on the floor of your bathtub letting your tears mix with the water. The drops of water drummed against your ribcage. Hollow and empty. 

“Okay,” you answered, voice cracking from underuse. He looked over and offered a genuine smile, happy that he got to hear the sound of your voice. 

A sigh raked its way through your chest as you pulled into the parking lot for Dr. Raynor’s office. Bucky had finally convinced you to go to couples therapy when you’d called him James one too many times. You were only three weeks deep. Bucky did all the talking,  you mostly stared out the window, just sitting there to appease him. 

The problem wasn’t him. The problem was you. You took a leave of absence from work for a few weeks, and it had given you the time to truly dwell on all of the things that were wrong with you. 

You sat on one end of the hideous gray Ikea couch and Bucky sat on the other, making himself comfortable while you just figured out a way to make yourself small. 

Dr. Raynor made you feel naked, like she saw through you. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line as she looked from Bucky to you. 

“How was last week?” She asked, swinging her notebook open and jotting down notes as Bucky began. 

“I think we’re doing better. She still barely speaks, but I convinced her to go out to a local pizza joint last Friday night.”

Thinking about leaving your apartment building last Friday night made your empty stomach lurch. Your friend had sent you the headline as soon as it was posted ‘MRS. WINTER SOLDIER LOOKING WORSE FOR WEAR.’ The picture attached was one of you where you looked particularly washed out, the bags under your eyes practically fucking glowing while you hugged your cardigan close to your frame. 

“And what about you, Y/N? How do you think last week went?” Dr. Raynor asked.

“Fine,” you answered, pulling your cardigan closed around you again now. 

Bucky’s leg was starting to bounce, he did that when he was irritated or under duress. You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, a tell tale sign that a storm was about to roll in. You swallowed hard.

Bucky’s thin patience snapped and his head whipped around to stare at you lightning fast. “Why wont you work on this like I’m working on this?” he thundered. You startled, your body going rigid as Bucky’s tone rolled over you in waves. He might as well have stabbed you in the stomach and twisted the blade. He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the panic rising in his chest. The love of his life had been slipping away from him for months and he didn’t know why.

“There’s nothing you need to work on,” you offered meekly. You just wanted to deal with it on your own, compartmentalize and get over it so you could go back to being The Winter Soldier’s Perfect Wife.

“I know, I know. It’s not a me thing, it’s a you thing, but you’re not getting better and I can’t help unless you tell me what’s going on.” His voice started to falter, like he was about to fall and he was grabbing onto anything that would keep him from the drop. “Please, baby, please…” he took your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. 

Though you didn’t turn to him, you closed your eyes as you drown yourself in his concern, the sob getting lost behind your ribcage while you wondered what he’d ever seen in you. The tears flowed anyways, falling off of your face and onto your sweater. When you didn’t respond to his touch, he let you have your hand back, keeping his body angled towards you. 

“Y/N, you have to let other people in if you expect to get better,” Dr. Raynor said. 

Your body felt like it was compressed too tight, like an aerosol can in a hydraulic press. Just a couple more pounds of pressure and…

“Do you want a divorce?” It was barely a whisper on your right side. You turned your head to see Bucky eye locked pointedly on his hands, eyes red and glossy while he twisted the wedding band on his ring finger. 

Your jaw dropped as your breathing became ragged. No. Absolutely not, you didn’t want a divorce. You only loved him. You only wanted him. How were you supposed to explain that you didn’t understand why he didn’t want a divorce. 

At the sound of your breaths he looked up. Bucky’s eyes went wide watching you hyperventilate. He could see the fear in your eyes as you tried to hold on to the reality around you. 

“Baby it’s just a panic attack, breathe with me,” he said, moving to crouch in front of you. 

Dr. Raynor got up from her chair and walked over to stand next to where Bucky sat.

“Deep breaths, Y/N,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. 

There were too many people too close to you and it was too much to handle. You felt yourself fill your lungs with air before letting out an ear splitting, blood curdling scream. You screamed until you had no air left, and then you took a breath and sobbed. 

You fisted Bucky’s shirt and shook him, rage and venom lacing your voice. 

“Ever since Steve died you’ve been America’s fucking golden boy. Your fucking redemption arch is Oscar worthy. Take a look at this monster! He doesn’t know how to communicate, everyone just give him a little bit of space! 

“And then there’s me. Little ole me. Too fat. Too skinny. Wears too much makeup. Doesn’t wear enough makeup. What is that dress? Does she own anything other than sweaters. Who designed the bags under her fucking eyes what a GODDAMNED TRAINWRECK.”

It was all pouring out of you and you couldn’t stop it. Everything you’d bottled up for Bucky’s sake since the funeral. Everything you’d tried to deal with on your own. 

Bucky was reeling. It was like someone had flipped a switch in his head and he was coming to understand everything.

“I’m just a fucking receptionist. Yes, my husband is the Winter Soldier-” you mocked, looking over at your pretend patient from your pretend desk “- He's doing so well recently. Can I schedule your fuCKING FOLLOW UP APPOINTMENT?”

You reached back and swung down into Bucky’s left arm, wanting to take your anger and frustration out on something, anything. Needing the release of catharsis, the release of pain. Bucky didn’t even flinch, he felt like he deserved it after having been this fucking oblivious for so long. When your fist connected you felt a crunch in your wrist and your face contorted as you let out a strangled cry. Bucky jumped and reached for your hand but you jerked it away from him, tears still running down your face.  

Dr. Raynor’s eyes were wide, looking to Bucky to see if she needed to call an ambulance, or a local psych ward. Maybe an exorcist? Buck just shook his head. This is the breakthrough they’d been praying for for months now, you just needed time to work through it. 

“I’m just a fucking receptionist. I can’t save the world,” you cried, cradling your busted hand to your chest. Your chest felt like it was fracturing and falling in on itself and in just a second the couch was going to swallow you up into the endless black.

You looked up at him finally, tear tracks standing out against your skin, your hand starting to swell. “Why do you love me when I’m so useless?” 

At that moment, Bucky would rather have sat in the chair for another 70 years than hear the pain in your voice. 

His own tears finally crested and tracked down his face, his nose burning and his throat dry. He set his forehead down on your knees, holding onto your calves for dear life. 

Bucky could remember every cup of tea, every tissue you’d used to wipe his tears, every time you’d woken him from a nightmare, every time you’d slept on the floor with him, every time you stitched him up so he didn’t have to deal with a hospital, every time you got the groceries by yourself because he’d broken down in the shakes in the middle of the paper goods aisle, every time you’d remembered to grab his favorite cookies, every time you waved off him being on a mission during a birthday or an anniversary. 

Bucky could remember every time you’d sacrificed yourself for him, but couldn’t remember the last goddamn time they had an in-depth conversation about you. 

It felt like someone had slapped him in the face. Fuck, you should have slapped him the face.

“I am so fucking sorry,” Bucky said, his voice cracking as he looked up into your face. 

“I’m not special, I don’t-” you started, but he cut you off. 

“You are special,” he pleaded, taking the hand you weren’t cradling against your chest in both of his, “Goddamn does it take a super kind of woman to put up with my bullshit, and you do it all without breakin’ a sweat.” 

“James, I--”

“You really gotta cut that James shit, you only call me that when you’re mad at me. Are you mad at me?”

That earned a broken chuckle from you, he wasn’t wrong. 

“No, Buck, I’m not mad at you. I just wish I was more. That I did more. Maybe if I saved a planet-”

Buck cut you off again, shaking his head. 

“Baby, you save my world every time you make brownies,” he breathed, meeting your eyes. 

It felt like the world finally rolled off your shoulders. You felt so incredibly stupid and relieved at the same time. 

Bucky wasn’t done, “no one behind a camera or writing for a blog or a newspaper or whatever the fuck they have in the impulse aisles at the grocery store can tell me all the superpowers that my wife has.”

“Oh god, I know, I’m so stupid,” tears started to spring forward again as you leaned forward into Bucky’s shoulder. 

“You’re not stupid, baby, no, but I just might be the world’s oldest idiot,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I had no idea it was affecting you like this. I am so sorry I haven’t been paying attention.” He took your face in his hands and blotted away a couple stray tears with his thumb, leaning in to lay a long, loving kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry I let it get this bad without saying anything,” you croaked back.

Dr. Raynor cleared her throat, trying to get everyone’s attention. 

“I am so glad we have made so much progress today, but Y/N’s hand is turning purple,” she said, pointing at the hand laid against your chest. Your wrist throbbed something awful, like you’d just remembered you’d been in pain to begin with.

“Oh fuck, right, I’m sorry,” you bit back more tears, this time from physical pain. 

“Shit doll, let's get you to a hospital,” Bucky said, helping you stand and ushering you out the door. 

“Next week, same time. We’ll do another check in,” Dr. Raynor called after you. 

Maybe tomorrow, in your pain killer haze, you could look at gated communities to move to.

#marvel #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #married!buckybarnes #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

[blizzweirdo]

StarCraft Fanfiction: “No Omen, No Country’s Cause”

A few months ago, during the StarCraft 20th anniversary celebration, I created a blog for the sole purpose of remedying a great injustice: according to an infographic I saw here on Tumblr, fanfiction involving my favorite character, Vice Adm. Alexei Stukov, comprised only 1% of StarCraft fanfiction (in English, I’m assuming). 

And so I embarked on a months-long odyssey, putting together what I thought would be a short story about how Stukov would react to the UED returning to the Koprulu sector. What it turned into is a multi-perspective, most likely novella- length text that I think would work well as a serial.

In “No Omen, No Country’s Cause,” I seek to reconcile discordant parts of Stukov’s personality, give him something to live for, flesh out his backstory, make him to engage in some badassery, and get him back to where he was in SC: Brood War (personality wise). Along the way, expect a lot of battles, new characters, and interactions with other canon characters like Adm. Matt Horner, Valerian Mengsk, Alarak, Zagara, and others.

This teaser is rated T, but expect some chapters to be M for language, violence, sexual content, and zergy squish-squish. I’ll probably post small bits once or twice a week, releasing what I’ve written so far and giving me a chance to write more. I do see myself finishing it (I’ve already written the ending but not the middle) unless there’s just zero interest.

Any feedback is greatly appreciated. If you’d like to view this in a different format, it is also available on FanFiction.net, Archive of Our Own, and Wattpad under the same username.

Note: someone pointed out this sounds like it’s going to get political. I promise it is not.

“No Omen, No Country’s Cause”

TARSONIS CITY, TARSONIS: 09:55

"Five minutes to air time, people. Let's get moving!" Kate Lockwell paced behind Adm. Matthew Horner as he stood at his podium. From the side of the makeshift stage, she shouted at a few people in the wings. "Tim! Where's Kallie with the other camera?"

"The replacement lens didn't come in. Wasn't a 'priority' shipment and didn't make it through customs. She knows a guy uptown and she's going to borrow one. She'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen?!"

"We'll start without her! It'll be fine. No one will notice we're down a camera."

"They'll notice if we're down two presidential debaters... Where're my challenger candidates?" Kim Lockwell stopped on her heel and put her hand on the shoulder of Horner's blue suit.

"Well, if there's one thing that I can say for you military types, at least you're punctual, Mr. President." She winked at him, and before he could respond, she was gone. 

Horner leaned over the podium and looked into the "audience." In the makeshift broadcast room, there were about two-dozen seats, all of which were full of journalists from around the sector-Umoja, Moria, and even some of the outlying colonies. All were there to see the beginning of Tarsonis's new government as it shifted from the Terran Dominion to the Terran Republic. After defeating Amon and negotiating peace with the zerg under Zagara, Valerian Mengsk had begun focusing on rebuilding Tarsonis and Korhal, and that's when the political shitstorm started. The Dominion needed the Umojan Protectorate's help, but they refused to acknowledge a "medieval monarchy spawned by a dictator" as a valid government even though it was constitutional. The Umojans also released more information about Valerian that was potentially damaging-that the labs run by Mobius Corp. had been more closely supervised by him than he had originally said. Skygeirr Station was the most egregious. Horner had asked him, man-to-man, what he actually knew. He had told him that he was only aware they were performing experiments on zerg and xel'naga tissues-he didn't know about the hybrid breeding program. But he did know about what they were doing to UED POW Vice Admiral Alexei Stukov. Valerian said that he willingly turned a blind eye to what they did to him because he thought it vital, at the time, to finding a way to neutralize Sara Kerrigan. Whether it was because he was UED or because he was infested and technically zerg, news reports focused on the hybrids and glossed over the torture of someone he knew to be a decent man. If it bothered Valerian, it was hard to see, which made Horner watchful of him now, waiting for more of his father to emerge. The Umojan Protectorate has a point, Horner thought.

Valerian was forced to step down, and his cabinet named Horner as his interim successor until the Terran Republic could build its infrastructure enough to hold an election. The Umojan Protectorate began helping Tarsonis pick up the pieces of the coup against Arcturus Mengsk and the invasion by the Queen of Blades. It had been five years, and Horner was just now thinking that he had the hang of governing-and now he would have to publicly debate other candidates and run for the position to keep it for another five years. Even so, Horner had doubts about his leadership capabilities. Raynor should be up here-not me, he thought. But he knew that would never have worked. Jim Raynor had not wanted to lead even when he was with the Raiders. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them, he thought, Valerian was the first, Raynor the second... But Valerian was disgraced and Raynor had vanished. Hopefully I'm the third... After Valerian stepped down and the smoke cleared, there weren't many other options.

Horner took a deep breath and thumbed again through his notes on the datapad in front of him. His main talking points were those of national security. They had been burned before by outside threats. Other than a few outlying factions, the protoss were their allies, but on the other hand, the zerg, even with Zagara leading them, could be fractured by a new leader-just as Abathur almost had done. Worse, if Horner had learned anything, it was the threat that could not be predicted that always ...bites you in the ass. Restructuring was also critical. The military needed its academies back online, and the education system-especially on Tarsonis-needed new buildings, updated materials, and staff that were not praising the "glory of the Dominion." Trade deals with the Kel-Morians and the Umojan Protectorate to bring food and other resources to people who needed it were his other sticking points. Things we can all agree on, not too detailed, and enough to talk about but not enough to make me look like a boring, stuffed uniform-I hope.

Finally, one of the other candidates entered the studio. The journalists all stood at once, their cameras flashing as she strode in. He recognized her; It was Dr. Joan Slavens, a philosophy professor at Tarsonis City Colonial University, the largest and most prestigious public universities on Tarsonis-before it was shut down by the Dominion. She had settled into being a nuisance via private broadcasts during the war. Horner had watched a few of them. Dr. Slavens was a good speaker, and she had the air of a rumpled intellectual with her barely-tamed blonde curls and wrinkled tweed jacket. She waved warmly to the journalists. This made him even more nervous. Dr. Slavens was a well-known personality and respected. She already had a following, and it would be easy for her to build a bloc of voters. He, on the other hand, had name recognition, and was known as a war hero on one hand but a compatriot of the now-controversial Valerian Mengsk on the other-his alliances could make someone's decision either way.

Dr. Slavens took her place at the podium next to his and adjusted her microphone, tapping on it to test it. She put her hand over it and turned to Horner, giving him a rueful smile.

"Of course, Mr. Marinakis isn't here yet. I hope his freighters are timelier than he is."

"You have some experience with Marcos Marinakis?"

"Unfortunately, yes. He told me he would let me interview him for my vids a half a dozen times... He was a no-show on half of them and more than an hour late on the rest. We could be here a while. I mean, this only a presidential debate, after all. I'm sure his business brunch was much more pressing."

"Well, if he's much later, we'll have to start without him."

Marcos Marinakis was a shipping magnate-one of the few that wasn't Kel-Morian. He had a reputation of being loud, obnoxious, but shrewd in business. Some people would believe that would make him good at guiding the Republic, but Horner didn't really see him as a threat. Because of his manner and what inevitably comes out about anyone who runs a large company, he was by far a long shot.

Horner's thoughts were interrupted by a low rumble far in the distance. It shook the building, and a little bit of plaster rained from the ceiling.

"What the hell was that?" Lockwell said. Horner's security detail, two marines in street combat gear, came in from outside the room.

"Mr. President, we have reports of an attack on the outskirts of town heading inward to our position. We need to get you all to a secure location."

"Where?" Horner said quickly.

"The basement of this building is a nuclear bunker. We should be able to hide out there."

Horner sprung into action.

"All right everyone, listen," Horner said into the microphone. "We're all going to do this quietly and without panicking. Please follow these gentlemen downstairs. Keep aware of your surroundings..."

There was another rumble and the power went out. Horner shouted over the din of fighting and the journalists talking nervously among themselves.

"And don't panic."

The journalists filed out of the room with Horner taking up the rear. He paused to look out the window. Republic troops had began flooding into the streets, and before them, a nydus canal had opened. The infested crawled from its maw, waves of them flooding over abandoned hovercars and the makeshift barriers troops had constructed along the way. In the distance, a siege tank and a platoon of Terran Republic troops began firing at them, but were overwhelmed by the sea of flesh and claws almost instantly. With dread, Horner realized there could be only one person responsible: Stukov.

And there's the threat we didn't anticipate.

#starcraft #fanfic #fanfiction #alexei stukov #stukov #matt horner #no omen no country's cause