Dissensus

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Summary: 

"There are three estates in Parliament but in the Reporters' Gallery yonder there sits a Fourth Estate more important far than them all. It is not a figure of speech or witty saying, it is a literal fact, very momentous to us in these times." -- Edmund Burke (1729-1797)

The Fourth Estate: a segment of society that wields the soft but momentous power of public opinion despite its lack of formal recognition within the political system.

Or, the first thing that rebuilds itself after Sendak's defeat is the press. With the press comes social media. You know what you get when you have social media? Fandom. You get fandom.

(multimedia fic following the Paladins & the MFE-Ares pilots post-season 7)

Chapter 11 excerpt:

“You scared me,” she murmurs, so quiet he’s not sure he’s meant to hear it. Her fingers dig in a little harder, pinpricks of claws prickle through the thin fabric of the hospital smock, and he goes pliant under her. “Again. You scared me again.”

Lance rests his hands against her hips, gentle and slow and cautious, so she can move or stop him if she wants. She fits her hands against his, tangling her fingers with his over the delicate jut of her hipbones. She rocks against him, ever so slightly, and his breath catches just a little. Everything about her is writ with imperious majesty and so fragile that he’s afraid she’ll shatter under the force of the wrong word. He tightens his grip, very gently, on her hips and she sighs, a little pleased puff of breath.

Something about the wildness in her eyes, the fragility of her expression, the way her hands tremble just a little over his, slots like puzzle pieces clicking together, and he tightens his grip until he’s sure he’ll leave bruises and she sighs again.

“I’d apologize,” he tells her lowly as she watches him from under her lashes, “but we both know I’d do it again.”

[read the rest on Ao3]