#Captain Jenna on duty

[espace--positif]

After Rain Comes Sunshine

A Zayne x Fem!Reader Fic [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: Zayne invites you to join him on one of his morning runs. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the weather has other plans for the two of you.

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader

Content: Fluff, Pre-relationship, Slow Burn if you squint, MC Reader, Brief description of injury.

WC: ~3.7K

You stared at the figures on the report in front of you and they stared back in defiance. No matter how many times you plugged the numbers into the UNICORNS program’s interface, it returned either incomplete results or an error. You sighed in defeat and laid back in your chair, staring at the setting sun on the horizon.

Data analysis had never been your strong suit, and the inconsistencies brought on by abnormal Wanderer activity in the area did not make your temporary assignment any easier. The field suited you much better, but you had unfortunately been temporarily pulled from active duty after sustaining an injury while on a mission.

You’d been on nighttime patrol with one of the new Alpha Team recruits in an area where moderate Wanderer activity had been reported when both your watches picked up a large spike in energy fluctuations. Your regrettably green hunt partner had panicked and started blasting at the tree line at the tiniest sign of movement, and an opportunistic Wanderer had jumped at him. You’d pushed him out of the way of what certainly would’ve been a fatal blow, and the Wanderer’s gargantuan claw had embedded itself in your shoulder instead.

You thought that the earful that Captain Jenna had delivered to the poor recruit at debriefing was harsh, but you found that it was nothing compared to the treatment you’d received from Dr. Zayne when you reported to Akso Hospital.

“It’s not a big deal. You should’ve seen the other guy,” you’d tried to joke, lightly and nervously tapping your heel on the side of the examination table after he’d tended to your wound. Instead of the usual chuckle or crack of a smile Zayne would usually give you when you attempted humor, you were met with silence as he picked up a clipboard and busied himself writing. 

Ah, yes. You were dealing with ‘Dr. Zayne’ now.

“We, uh, we killed the Wanderer who did this. It was real bloody… is what I’m trying to-”

Your rambling was cut short when he paused his writing and looked up at you, his icy hazel eyes threatening to bore holes through your own.

“You’re not… angry, are you?” you chanced. Though he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive man in the world, even less so when he was in “Doctor” mode, you liked to think that you were attuned to his body language - the slight downturn of his lips, intensity in his eyes, and stiffness of his posture told you that he certainly wasn’t happy.

“I’m pulling you from duty. You’re to report back here in three weeks and I’ll see if you’re fit to be cleared for duty again,” he replied flatly, authoritative gaze still glued to you. You were no stranger to the strictness of the doctor’s orders, but three weeks was pushing it. This was some sort of punishment for your recklessness, you were sure of it.

“Three weeks? Isn’t that a bit much?” you asked while lightly rolling your freshly bandaged shoulder in an attempt to prove the levity of the injury.

Zayne narrowed his eyes, then proceeded to stow his pen into his white coat pocket, and you instantly knew that a hefty lecture was on its way.

“Exercising an injured muscle before it’s fully healed can lead to slowed healing and permanent damage. And next time, you’d do well to avoid being so reckless on the field. Come to think of it, perhaps a month of rest will be needed to ensure proper healing.”

And with that, he had shut down any possibility for a compromise, especially considering you didn’t have the expertise to dispute his diagnosis. Besides, when he got like this, you knew better than to argue, lest he extend your banishment from duty to an unreasonably longer amount of time.

—

This was a week and a half ago, meaning that you’d only served half your sentence. The worst part about being under such strict orders was how cooped up you felt. As perilous as your Alpha Team assignment was, you’d always enjoyed being able to visit different parts of the city, sometimes even venturing further. You’d often explore and find new restaurants and cafés to try out in the vicinity of your mission area on the way home.

But the best part about finding these new places was getting to share them with a certain someone who happened to share your passion for culinary experiences. You’d write down the most notable new place you’d discovered after each assignment in a new area, and it had become a sort of ritual for the both of you to visit and rate each place every weekend.

Ironically, that certain someone also happened to be your doctor, and he was the reason why you hadn’t partaken in your post-mission reward in a week and a half, even staying in last weekend. Sure, you could always initiate a weekend outing, but you hadn’t left your neighborhood in days, and your list of new places to try out was barren as a result. Just as you were considering whether you’d be able to bargain with Zayne to get cleared for duty earlier than scheduled, your phone chimed with a text notification.

It was as though he’d read your mind from a distance.

Good afternoon. How are you feeling?

Seizing your opening, you hastily sent back a message.

feeling good, my shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore. honestly! just feels stiff. but maybe I’m at risk for a vitamin D deficiency since I can’t go out to missions anymore :P

Three dots illuminated his side of the conversation, then swiftly disappeared. He wasn’t taking the bait. You furiously typed another message, this time going straight to the point.

well, as my doctor, don’t you think that’s concerning? maybe I can come by tomorrow and check if I can get cleared early haha

It was worth a shot, you told yourself, but your strategy could very well backfire seeing as off-duty Zayne was prone to responding to your half-jokes with equal amounts of seriousness and teasing, especially in your text conversations where the tone was constantly blurred. He might flat-out refuse, or even extend your suspension from duty just because you’d dared ask, and just because he could. But the dizzying figures side-eyeing you from your computer screen and the stale indoor air that had been your only companion for the past few days had evidently compelled you to risk it all.

His almost immediate answer blipped on your screen.

No.

Then three dots. You gulped.

But if you’re feeling cooped up, why don’t you join me for my morning run tomorrow? Running is a good way to get moderate exercise and won’t impact your shoulder healing at this point.

Your heartbeat quickened ever so slightly. Was Zayne really inviting you on one of his morning runs? He’d spoken about those like they were a ritual, and so the open and sudden invitation, though not unwelcome, was surprising. It wasn’t as glamorous as a restaurant outing, but it was an opportunity to spend time with him. And to touch some grass and breathe some fresh air, of course. Because that’s what this was about.

A smile crept up your face as you typed your reply.

yeah! that sounds good. see you tomorrow!

—

This is how you ended up lacing up your running shoes at the very crack of dawn, surrounded by nothing but the luscious greenery that framed the gravel path you stood on. You would have appreciated it much more if it wasn’t 5:45 AM and you had something to look forward to other than a grueling marathon.

Your eyes drifted towards your running companion, Zayne, who was completing a stretching routine a few feet away. You absently emulated his movements as your eyes caught onto his hulking arms, your gaze tracing every curvature of his taut muscles through the ribbed fabric of his black long-sleeve shirt.

Perhaps you did have something to look forward to after all.

He must have caught you staring, as his movements halted and you were met with a quizzical look. You quickly looked away, heat creeping up your cheeks, and looked for something to say, anything, to break the silence.

“So you run here every day, huh?” you said, almost too fast. “It’s beautiful, really.”

“Not every day,” Zayne’s deep voice echoed through the tranquil canopy of trees. “I usually run a circuit through the city, close to the hospital. But for today, I wanted to make sure you…”

He trailed off and you turned to face him once more. This time, he averted his eyes and seemed suddenly preoccupied with the nothingness in the tree line.

“Wanted to make sure I… what?” you prompted.

“Exposure to nature has been proven to be conducive to healing and improve patient outcomes.”

There it was, the familiar doctor-patient wall that Zayne would employ against you whenever either of you came close to acknowledging whatever it was that budded between the two of you. Yet you’d seen him chip away at it far too many times during your weekend outings, and you’d also been known to jump at any opportunity to deal some damage to it whenever you could. Even so, the status quo didn’t bother you, as long as it meant he would still be around. A permanent fixture in your life.

“Hmmm,” you hummed in response, trying to find a witty rebuttal. When the words failed you, you simply yelled out: “Well, improve this! Race you to the end!”

And with that, you dashed ahead, leaving Zayne behind, no doubt shaking his head at your antics.

—

Your amusement was quite short-lived, as your increasingly aching legs reminded you why you’d always hated cardio and prioritized strength training. You’d clearly bitten off more than you could chew, but you were also notoriously stubborn, and so your feet begrudgingly crunched on the gravel at a regular rhythm as Zayne matched your unrelenting speed, though he made it seem effortless.

“Sure you don’t want to slow down?” you heard him ask as he ran long strides beside you, not even remotely out of breath.

“Nope,” you huffed. Your stubbornness aside, you especially didn’t want to slow him down after he’d so graciously invited you into this part of his life. “Besides… we’re almost there… right?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Not in the slightest. We’re about halfway through the route.”

“Wha-” the sound of surprise escaped your lips before you could hold it in. At this point, the sun had completely risen, though roiling clouds had begun to obscure it. Surely you should have completed more than half of the run by now, right?

You’d clearly figured wrong. The drive that had been powering you through your unsustainable pace evaporated in an instant and you skidded to a halt. With your hands on your knees, you attempted to catch your breath and soothe the burning in your calves. Embarrassment be damned, this run was going to be the end of you if you didn’t take a break right this instant.

You felt a hand softly touch the small of your back, urging you forward.

“Don’t stop so suddenly, just keep walking and breathing.”

“R-right,” you managed between exhales.

You tried steadying your breathing as you both resumed walking, but the warmth of Zayne’s body against yours made the endeavor much harder than it had to be. His large hand remained on your back, gently guiding you forward and lightening the load on your sore legs. The cooling breeze that dried the beads of sweat on your brow was a welcome presence as you felt yourself feeling warmer and warmer by the minute.

After what felt like hours, your heart was thankfully no longer threatening to burst from your chest, and the painful ache in your legs had dulled. You discreetly looked up at Zayne only to find him scanning the tree line with a serious expression on his face. No matter where you went, he was always as alert and cautious as ever. You’d called him out on it once during one of your weekend outings, and he’d answered something ominous along the lines of “it’s better to be overprepared than taken off guard.”

Despite your teasing, however, his vigilance was always a welcoming sight. You could allow yourself to relax whenever the two of you were together - it was a far cry from the constant alertness your missions forced you to adopt. His presence alone made you feel safer than you’d ever care to admit, and his rare but soothing touches seemed to melt your worries away. In little moments like these, you were afforded the luxury of simply living in the present.

Your steps became light as your attention drifted to a patch of bright blue and purple flowers that neatly adorned the upcoming bend in the path, perfectly framing it on both sides, and you realized that this was nice. The breeze lightly grazed your skin and you were thankful for its refreshing chill until it suddenly picked up and that very chill began to creep into your bones. You unconsciously inched closer to Zayne, your head pressed up against the side of his chest.

“We should head back,” he said, voice warmly rumbling against your ear. “It looks like it might…”

Raindrops slowly plipped and plopped against the gravel, grass, and leaves. Zayne halted both your movements and held his free hand up, as if to gauge the magnitude of the rain that would follow. He didn’t need to keep it up long, as the rain quickly escalated to a downpour, violently drenching you both in an instant.

You stared at the wet ground in disbelief. You normally didn’t mind the rain, but this was more than just rain - it was a veritable storm. And now your run would definitely have to be cut short. So much for a nice moment.

The two of you resumed your run, this time in the opposite direction, headed towards the forest’s entrance. The brief respite you’d just concluded evidently hadn’t done much to regenerate your energy and vigor, as you found yourself lagging behind Zayne as the rain and wind buffeted your body. Your legs burned once more, and you cursed yourself for pretending to stretch while ogling your running partner earlier instead of actually stretching.

You slowed to a halt, trying to give your legs a break, but knowing very well that once you stopped it’d only get harder to get moving again. But while a little bit of rain wouldn’t kill you, keeping up this pace when you’d already foolishly spent all of your energy in the first half of your run very well might.

You figured you should tell Zayne not to wait for you, that you’d catch up eventually, and inhaled sharply so your voice would carry from your crouched form through the roaring storm. But before you could utter a word, two strong arms nestled against you and you were suddenly staring at the lopsided tree line. Zayne had deftly scooped you up and resumed jogging without skipping a beat.

You instinctively braced yourself by placing your palm on his chest and looked up at him, bewildered. It took you a moment to compute what was happening, but once you did, heat warmed your face despite the chilling rain and wind.

You began to protest. “Zayne, you don’t need to… I can just catch up with you!”

“This forest will flood with the two of us in it if we keep up with your pace,” he replied, light mirth permeating his voice.

You huffed. Your arrogance and poor performance at cardiovascular exercise had been noted and you’d likely never hear the end of it - as serious and stern as Zayne presented himself, he’d always remember the smallest details when they presented an opportunity to tease you later on. Still, in an attempt to save the remainder of your dignity, you pressed on.

“No, but, you’ll get tired carrying me around!”

“It’s nothing. If anything, I’ll get to finish my workout,” he said, wet strands of dark hair dancing along to the rhythm of his light jog.

And thus, you resigned yourself to being carried out of the very workout you’d signed up for. When enough of your embarrassment had fizzled away, your mind began to drift away from the downpour and hone in on the steady thumping of Zayne’s heartbeat, which you could feel vibrating through your palm and reverberating throughout your whole body. The unwavering, rhythmic beats drew you to that same sense of safety you’d felt earlier, and so many times before. You found that the rain and the cold didn’t bite as harshly when you focused on the warmth of his body, the strength of his heartbeat, and the steady yet light bounce of his footsteps.

And eventually, you found that you’d stopped caring about the weather altogether.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

—

By the time you finally rejoined civilization, the rain had let up to a light drizzle. You’d found refuge in a small café, one of the first you’d visited together ever since starting your weekend tradition. At this time of day, it was luckily not too busy. They’d graciously offered you a table even though you were sopping wet, and you busied yourself drying off as best as you could with the copious amount of paper towels the server had offered you while Zayne ordered warm drinks for both of you.

When he returned from the counter with two cups in hand, soaking wet, hair still dripping, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. The juxtaposition of this man’s calm demeanor with his disheveled appearance, combined with the ridiculous circumstances amused you to no end.

Zayne raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” he asked as he placed down the cups.

“Nothing. It’s just…” you scoured your brain for a way to get back at him for his comments on your pace earlier. “You’d think a man would check the weather before going on a run, you know?”

A hint of a smile played on his lips, and he sighed in mock exasperation as he sat across from you. “And you’d think a hunter would be able to run for more than five minutes in a row,” he quipped back. “Am I going to have to add mandatory cardiovascular training to your health plan?”

You definitely would never hear the end of this.

You threw your hands up, feigning defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll manage my pace better next time.”

You grasped your cup, the warm ceramic soothing your freezing hands. “But I’m just surprised that someone like you could just get caught out in the rain like that. Didn’t you once tell me about how being overprepared is the key to all your problems or something like that?”

“‘If you’re not overprepared, you’re underprepared,’ was the quote,” he replied as he slicked back his wet hair. You shifted your gaze to the ripples in your cup to stop yourself from staring. “And you’re right, I should’ve looked at the forecast before I dragged you out there. Or at the very least, I should have stuck to my normal route. We likely would’ve found shelter faster. I’m sorry, it’s my fault we ended up like this.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for!” you replied hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply that at all. I had fun today, and I got to breathe some fresh air, get some exercise in… I’m gonna be honest, even though it rained on our parade, I’m really glad you invited me to run with you.”

You beamed as you finished your sentence, unable to hide your genuine contentment. You meant every word of it. In contrast to the gloomy weather outside, your mood had been brightened by this ordeal. As strange as it sounded, you were almost glad for the rain which had brought you closer together in more ways than one.

Zayne’s intense gaze settled on you, as if he was trying to read your mind. This time, you didn’t look away. “Is that so?” he started. “Then allow me to be honest as well. I neglected to look at the weather forecast because I just wanted to get you out of your apartment. You sounded pent up, and I wanted to cheer you up.”

You felt a comfortable warmth settle within you, and you knew you couldn’t ascribe it to the coffee alone. “Thank you,” you replied, ignoring the heat that was surely visible in your cheeks. “I was pent up. Data analysis was driving me crazy, I hadn’t left the house in days since my assignment is remote, and I missed you.”

Perhaps you were feeling a little too comfortable, for you blurted out the words without thinking. Well, it was too late now. You clumsily took a sip from your cup and set it back down with an unceremonious clang.

“I missed you too,” he replied, voice gentle and low. When you peered up from your cup to face him, he suddenly seemed more interested in the weather again, looking out the window at the slowly clearing skies. He cleared his throat unceremoniously and continued: “I missed the opportunity to discover another restaurant with you this past weekend. My palate has come to expect variety every Saturday, you know.”

You smiled as you freely took in his flustered expression, a rare occurrence for the brilliant and ever-composed Dr. Zayne. You greedily gulped your coffee before it got cold, and reminded him to do the same, which seemed to push him back to his normal level of composure. The two of you spent the remainder of the morning excitedly discussing the culinary potential of your next mission destination in another week and a half.

Tonight, as you reminisced on the day’s events, you could rejoice, for the wall that neither of you had built but both of you had reluctantly maintained over the years had lost another brick. It wouldn’t be long before it crumbled to dust entirely, of that you were sure. In the meantime, you’d gladly content yourself with living in the present, in the moment, in the warmth and safety of Zayne’s unwavering presence.

Note: Hello! I can’t believe my first fic in YEARS is for a game I started playing 4 days ago, but L&DS and Zayne have literally taken over my life so I had no choice. This is also my first 'x reader' fic EVER so I’m kinda nervous, but I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you to @pmpmyread for proofreading!

[tonyspank]

STARGAZING

Warnings: fluff, a bit of smut, reader has leg & back tattoos, and reader calls donuts overrated LOL

Reader also has a pp 😱

Summary: You finally hang out with Jenna off duty.

Every weekday morning was the same. You'd wake up, go to the station, talk to some of your fellow officers, maybe even your captain, then stop at the same café. You'd order the same coffee and pastry, and sit down at the same table, with the same company.

Jenna was wonderful company too. Her eyes would light up whenever you walked through the door, uniform on and everything. It was your own little ritual, one that you looked forward to every day. You'd talk about your days, your hopes, and your ambitions.

It was a sense of comfort, one that you could always count on. You could tell that Jenna was always genuinely happy to see you. That smile that you grew to love over the past year would never leave her face when you were near.

You shared a special bond with Jenna that was unlike any other, regardless if you only hung out at the café. It was like home. You'd come in the morning, or afternoon for lunch, maybe even stop by before clocking out.

"Here's your breakfast bagel and coffee, just how you like it." You look away from the window, Jenna grins, placing down your food. "Thank you." You both exchange a look, and you can't help but smile at the girl in front of you.

Jenna sits down across from you, resting her hand on her hands as you take a bite of the bagel, savoring the taste and everything that it represents. "Aren't cops supposed to eat donuts? Not bagels?" You smirk and take a sip of coffee. "Donuts are overrated," you reply, then take another bite of the bagel.

Jenna laughs. "I guess you have a point," she says. "So, how's Chris?" You snort at the question. You had told Jenna about how another officer had to go on a two-week break due to the fact that Chris had broken his butt bone. Jenna laughs at you, her smile widening even more.

"He was in a lot of pain but he's doing better now." Jenna shakes her head, still laughing. "Have you ever seen anyone break their butt bone before?" You ask, still chuckling. Jenna shakes her head. "Nope, can't say I have."

You both laugh, still, in disbelief at the situation Chris had gotten himself into.

Chris had a good sense of humor about it, though, and it was relieving to have a good laugh about it. You both shared a moment of understanding, knowing that accidents happen and it could have been any of you.

You take a sip of your coffee, nearly moaning at the taste. "Your coffee completely beats the Starbucks I had yesterday." Jenna smiles but lets out a dramatic gasp, "You went to Starbucks and not here? I'm honestly hurt!" You laugh and take another sip, "Your coffee's better, I promise. I'll never make that mistake again."

"Good, you know I take good care of you." You smile, feeling the warmth of the coffee and the warmth of her words. "I know you do," you reply. She smiles back and the two of you sit in comfortable silence. After a few minutes, you finish up your bagel, crumbling the trash up.

"What do you do when you're not saving the city?" Jenna asks randomly. You pause for a moment, taken aback by her question. You take a sip of your coffee before responding, "I uh, just walk around...maybe hang out at home, why?"

Jenna shrugs. "Just curious. It seems like you're always in your uniform. It's nice to hear you take some time to relax." You smile, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Yeah...I guess I just like the feeling of doing something meaningful."

You then pause, thinking about how to word your next sentence. "It makes me feel like I'm doing something with my life."

Jenna nods in understanding. "I get it. Everyone needs a purpose to feel fulfilled." You take a deep breath. "I don't feel like I'm drifting anymore." Jenna smiles. "That's great. You've found something that makes you feel alive, and that's all that matters." You smile, subconsciously grabbing Jenna's hand that rests on the table.

"Maybe tomorrow we could hang out and relax together." Jenna nods, squeezing your hand. "I'd like that. Now I can finally see you outside of your uniform." You nod in agreement, the two of you still smiling.

You both laugh, and you feel your heart swell. Your shared laughter is infectious, and you can't help but feel a sense of joy and warmth spread through your chest.

You look into each other's eyes, your smiles still lingering on your faces. You feel an unspoken understanding between the two of you, a connection that you can't explain.

You clear your throat, letting go of the girl's hand and start gathering your stuff. "Well, I gotta go save the city now. I'll um...I'll pick you up tomorrow from work. What time do you get off?"

She smiles and says, "I get off at three. I'll be waiting for you." You nod at her words, sending a small smile. With one last glance, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there, still smiling.

You were right on time, three o'clock on the dot, waiting for Jenna outside of the café. Jenna emerged from the café, a smile still lighting up her face. You got off your motorcycle, taking off your helmet. You waved to Jenna, who waved back. "No! I wanted to ride in the police cruiser!" Jenna teased you as she brought you into a hug.

You laughed and hugged her back. "Maybe next time," you said as you mounted your motorcycle. You pulled Jenna onto the back of your bike and handed her your helmet. She gave you a tight squeeze, then put the helmet on.

You felt her arms wrap around your waist as you started the engine and drove off the wind buffeted you as you travelled, and you felt Jenna's embrace tighten with each passing mile.

You pulled up to your destination, and Jenna hopped off the back of the bike. "Where are we?" She questioned, looking around at the greeny area.

You smiled at her and said, "This is my secret spot. I wanted to share it with you." Jenna's face lit up with joy as she looked around, taking in the beauty of the place. You held out your hand, and she took it before looking up at you with a smile. "C'mon, I set up a picnic."

You led Jenna down the path, and soon you arrived at the clearing with the picnic set up. Jenna was amazed, and you smiled as you watched her in admiration. "This is insane." Jenna turned to you with a look of awe. "How did you do this?" she asked.

You simply smiled and replied, "It's my pleasure. A return for your wonderful company and coffee this past year."

Jenna smiled and hugged you tightly. You enjoyed the moment, feeling content and grateful for the friendship you had built. When she pulled away you gestured her to sit, joining her shortly after and reaching inside the basket.

You pulled out a container of fruit, sandwiches, and a bottle of sparkling cider. She laughed, delighted by the surprise. "I am... astonished... honestly."

You laugh before raising your glass. "To Jenna's amazing coffee and bagels!" She smiled and raised her glass to yours, clinking them together. "To my coffee and bagels," she said, and you both took a sip.

You both shared a laugh and put your glasses down. Jenna looked at you and said, "I didn't know you had tattoos." You chuckled glancing at your legs, "Yeah, I usually have to cover them for work. I also have one on my back."

Jenna smiled and said, "Really? Can I see?" You nod in response. Jenna quickly gets up, kneeling behind you. She gently moved your shirt and her eyes widened. "That's a really awesome design."

You smile and reply, "Thanks." Her hands begin tracing the tattoo and you can't help but shiver from her touch. You turn your head slightly, meeting Jenna's face as she places her hands on your shoulder, her face only inches away from yours.

"It looks so good on you." You blush and thank her again. She gets up, moving back to her original spot. She smiles. "I'm really glad you decided to get it. It suits you."

You nod in agreement, feeling a warmth inside that you hadn't felt in a long time. "Could you pass me a grape?" Jenna reaches into the fruit container, a grab in her hand. "Catch it."

You open your mouth, trying to fight back a smile. "You think I won't catch it? I was pro at this in high school."

The grape flew in the air, and you caught it, your reflexes still sharp. You grinned in satisfaction, and Jenna clapped her hands in surprise. "That was impressive!" she exclaimed.

"Here you try." Jenna hands you the container before preparing herself to catch the grape. You took a grape from the container and threw it up in the air. Jenna's reflexes were still a bit rusty, but she managed to catch it with her hands.

"Cheater! You gotta catch it with your mouth." You quickly grabbed another grape, throwing it at Jenna, unfortunately, it fell short. Jenna tried her best to catch it, but it was too late. "Damnit!" She laughs, her hands resting on your thighs.

She pouted playfully. "I feel like a loser." You shake your head, keeping your eyes on her as you reach into the container for a strawberry.

"Here's a reward for trying." You hold out the strawberry to hand it to her, but instead, she bites it from your hand, her eyes on you the entire time.

She lets out a small moan at the sweet taste of the berry, dramatically rolling her eyes. "So good." Her own hands reach into the container, picking out a strawberry. "Try one."

You couldn't even protest before she holds the strawberry to your lips, her left hand still resting on your thigh. You take a bite, the juice of the strawberry running down the corner of your mouth.

She gently wipes it away with her thumb, her eyes never leaving yours. You can't help but blush at her closeness. "Mmm..." You hum, nodding your head, approving of the taste. She smiles at your reaction, her hand still lingering on your thigh.

Her eyes leave yours, moving to your thigh. "Did this one hurt?" She asks, her finger tracing over the tattoo on your upper thigh. You take a deep breath, feeling her gentle touch. "A bit," you reply, your voice barely audible. She nods, giving you a reassuring smile.

She pauses for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. "Jenna..." you whisper out, swallowing the lump in your throat. She nods, telling you to go on. "Can I kiss you?" Again, she nods, causing you to smile. You lift your hand to caress her cheek before closing the distance and pressing your lips to hers.

You feel her arms wrap around your neck, her breathing becoming more shallow. She parted her lips slightly, deepening the kiss. You felt like you could stay there forever, lost in the moment. You eventually pull away, both of you breathless. You smile at her, and she smiles back, her cheeks blushing.

You both laugh nervously, and she leans her forehead against yours. You stare into each other's eyes for a few moments, feeling a connection that was unexpected yet undeniable. You stay like that for a while, just enjoying the moment and savoring the feeling.

"Fuck the police?" She mumbles, biting down on her lip. You can't help but chuckle. "Fuck the police."

And fuck the police was she doing. "Shit, Jenna..." You whine out, grabbing her hips. She grins, pushing you back onto the bed. "You know you love it," She says, her lips curving into a smirk.

She moves her hips, and you gasp, lost in the moment. You grip her hips and pull her closer, letting out a moan as she continues her movements. "Fuck me."

"I am, baby." She laughs before letting out a loud moan. "You're so big, fuck." Her hand moves from your core to your thigh, and her movements become faster and more intense, pushing you closer to the edge.

She's clearly enjoying the experience, her movements are becoming more passionate as your pleasure intensifies. You can feel her desire to bring you to the peak of pleasure and you give in to it, letting her take you there.

"I'm cumming!" She yells out, her grip on your thigh tightening. Her back arches as she rides you, her muscles tense as her orgasm takes over her body. You can feel her body shudder against yours as she comes down from her high and collapses against your chest. You wrap your arms around her, before flipping her over on her back.

You start to move inside of her again, your movements slow and gentle. She moans softly, her eyes half open, her breathing heavy. You kiss her gently, your lips lingering at the moment as you both enjoy the sensations of being together. She wraps her arms around you and pulls you closer, her fingers tracing circles on your back, over your tattoo.

She looks up at you, her eyes full of love and desire, and you know she'll remember this moment forever. You kiss her again, this time more passionately and with more urgency. You both know there's no need to rush; the night is still young and you both have all the time in the world.

You begin trailing kissing down her neck as your hips move slowly against hers, her breathing becoming heavier as her hands grip your shoulders. You whisper in her ear softly, "You feel so good, Jen."

She moans in response, her fingers running through your hair as you press your lips against her collarbone. You feel her body quiver beneath you as your hands travel down her curves. Finally, you meet her gaze, and she smiles.

"Faster, Y/N..." she whines, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. You comply, increasing your movements, and soon she's clinging onto you, her breath coming out in short gasps. "Yes, fuck." You can feel her body quivering beneath you, her grip on your shoulders tightening with each thrust. She screams out your name, her head thrown back in pleasure as you hit the right spot.

"Right there, shit. I'm about to cum again." You continue to move inside her, your body responding to her every whim. You lean down, your lips seeking hers as you both reach the peak of pleasure together.

She cries out your name, her voice low and husky as she comes down again, her eyes closed and a satisfied smile playing on her lips. You collapse onto her, both of you panting and sweaty as you bask in the afterglow.

You stay like that for a few moments before you reluctantly pull away, looking into her eyes with love and admiration. You give her a gentle kiss on the forehead, a silent promise of more to come before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep.

It was now morning time and you leaned against Jenna's kitchen counter, sipping on a mug of coffee she made for you as she took in your features.

She smiled lovingly at you before speaking up. "I could get used to this. You just walk around my place in your underwear, showing off your body and tattoos."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth inside your chest that made you feel like you were home. You grabbed her hand and pulled her close, pressing your lips against hers. "Me too." You placed another kiss on her lips before pulling away.

"Hungry?" She smiled and nodded. You stood up and began walking to the fridge, but Jenna stopped you. "No, baby. I'm hungry for you." Your eyebrows raise in surprise, "Oh."

[xvysarene]

ℂ𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕫𝕖

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.2k Genre: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort Notice: Mentions of infidelity, blood, and wound, Y/N is not MC A/N: @brailsthesmolgurl requested angst, I hope this one is painful enough 💔 May or may not consider writing a part 2

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

Clang!

The sound of the thrown stick echoed across the training room. A pair of cerulean orbs locked with yours, amazement reflected in their depths.

“That’s a lot of pent-up…energy,” your partner—professionally and romantically—fixed his attention on the wooden stick grazing his Adam's apple as he spoke.

If it was your hunter scythe, his skin would be sliced open.

You lowered it down, the adrenaline rush fading as the throbbing sensation in your knee took over. A sharp stab of pain that left your whole leg numb.

Ungracefully, you collapsed to the floor. Xavier’s hand was on your side in an instant, seeing how your face had crumpled in agony.

“You have a lot on your mind.” He felt you tensed, yet didn’t stop massaging your knee. His touch continued to work its magic, sending ripples of relief through you.

“I’m losing my touch, this desk duty is weakening me.”

“You just literally disarmed me,” he reminded, “Does this have to do with the team assignment?”

Whenever a new batch arrived, they were divided into groups with senior hunters overseeing their missions initially.

Xavier's involvement was to be expected, much like your own participation before the injury.

“Do you have anything against a particular recruit?” he treaded carefully.

You had nothing against the woman—whom you later discovered was Dr. Zayne's childhood friend and suspected the stoic doctor had a soft spot for—when you saw them together in a café a few times. In fact, she was quite a lovely woman.

What unsettled you was Xavier's uncharacteristic ease in opening up to her, despite his usual reservations with strangers.

“No,” you answered genuinely, “but do you have anything you’d like to tell me?”

Xavier’s fingers paused. “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know, Xav, you seem distracted lately.”

How could you miss the way his eyes sought out the junior hunter every morning when she arrived, even when you both were engaged in a conversation?

Or how could you miss his unmistakable comfortable stance as he interacted with the hunter, when the ring of her laughter filled up the bullpen?

His eyes slid sideways. “I need to focus on supervising the recruits, Captain Jenna's counting on me.”

Drawing closer, Xavier reached out, hand tenderly cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry if I’ve been distant.”

He noticed you biting down on your lips, wearing them out. It was the first time he had seen you visibly unsettled.

“If this is truly affecting you, I can ask someone else to take over my place.”

“No, it’s fine.”

You wouldn't allow yourself to be the reason he stepped back from his responsibilities, even if it meant sacrificing your own peace of mind.

“Just... please, talk to me if there's ever something on your mind,” you urged softly.

Xavier pressed his lips gently against your forehead. Even as the warmth of his kiss enveloped you, it couldn't dispel the pang of unease gnawing at the edges of your thoughts like it normally did.

The gnawing uneasiness, though, was justified.

With each passing day, his subtle mentions and veiled references of her painted your conversations.

It became even more apparent as your keen eyes caught glimpses of the growing sparkle in his gaze, the way his eyes slightly lingered on her, speaking volumes.

It might have gone unnoticed by others, but not you.

Not when you had once recognised the same tender looks directed towards you, before the two of you became a couple.

“Will you, for once, stop bringing her up?”

The room plunged into a tense silence, even the rhythmic tick-tick-tick of Jeremiah's fingers typing came to a sudden halt.

“Uh I’ll step out—”

“Jeremiah, sit down,” your tone was firm, leaving no room for refusal.

Jeremiah, halfway rising from his seat, abruptly sat back down with a plop! onto the chair beneath him.

Perched at the edge of Jeremiah's desk, you faced Xavier across the wooden table, the recent activity on the No-Hunt Zone forgotten as he got startled by your harsh remarks. Mouth slightly hanging open as he didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

“Tell me, Jeremiah, did he or did he not have been casually mentioning her for the past fifteen minutes?”

The poor guy had his eyes ping-ponged between the two of you. Torn between defending his longtime friend or you—the second person he would trust his life with.

“He did,” Jeremiah eventually admitted in a tiny voice, sinking even lower into his seat upon receiving a look of exasperation from Xavier.

In a way, you felt relieved knowing that the creeping vines of jealousy within your heart didn't merely blind you to making things up.

Grateful, that someone else had also come to realise it, validating your feelings.

You watched as Xavier's eyes finally bore into yours, uncertainty swimming in their depths.

Whatever emotion reflected in your eyes caused his breath to falter, finally making him aware of the jagged rift that had gradually formed between you.

“It’s been a couple of months now. You sure there’s nothing you’d like to tell me?”

Despite the cool front, you were aware of the pain piercing your heart.

The weight of embarrassment from having Jeremiah witness the unraveling of something that had once felt solid, so unbreakable.

Xavier took a daring step, as if to bridge the gap. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could finish, yours and his hunter watches lit up red, signaling an urgent notification. A warning voice thundered not a second later.

「All available senior hunters are to report back to UNICORNS Massive Metaflux fluctuations detected at Stormcrown Summit」

With a quick “Catch you later” tossed back to Jeremiah, you were already on the move the moment the first words reached your ears.

Xavier stepped in front of your 310HM, a dangerous move as you were mere seconds away from twisting the throttle. “Please, your knee can't handle it. You'll only end up hurting yourself.”

“Now is not the time to suddenly show concern for me again,” you retorted sharply.

As you revved up the engine, he stepped back, his face troubled. And you left him behind, knowing fully well he would make it back before you either way.

The bustling HQ buzzed with urgency as hunters within a 25km radius received the emergency alert. Frantic voices and swift footsteps filling up the walls.

Walking straight to Captain Jenna, you were greeted with an all-too-familiar grimace; the same expression she had worn when she caught you in the training room instead of attending physical therapy for your injury.

“Senior hunter Y/N, reporting for duty.” Your gaze met hers head-on.

The captain sighed, slightly shaking her head as if to clear the mounting stress. “We are in dire need of all hands on deck. Some senior hunters are away on missions far from Linkon, and we’ve resorted to sending some of the best recruits.”

Despite having earned her approval, she still gave you a warning look.

“You head back when your knee starts hurting, and”—her stern gaze warned you that there would be consequences if you ever considered defying her command—“you are not to wander alone without a partner.”

Your hand instantly reached out to one of the passing hunters, luckily snatching someone you had worked together with in previous missions occasionally, noting their above-average skills.

The fluttered brows of Captain Jenna didn’t go amiss. A look of confusion passed between her and the hunter, questioning your choice of a different partner than the usual one.

Towering trees at the Stormcrown Summit were shrouded in mist, casting an aura of unpredictability over the landscape. The occasional rustle of leaves heightened your senses further, escalating the tension of the unknown lurking within.

A very much missed surge of adrenaline fueled your body as you ventured deeper into the dense forest.

“I’m surprised that you did not choose Xavier as your partner,” your companion—Adrian—initiated a conversation after the two of you eliminated some roaming Mist Knaves.

“He is busy supervising the newer guys.”

"Seems to be warming up faster than he normally would, isn’t he?"

Damn it, you forgot how one of his best skills included perceptiveness. 

A short distance away, Xavier’s group made their way towards the clearing. The worried glances cast in your direction didn’t go unnoticed before the gigantic trees obscure your view.

“It’s very unexpected of him,” Adrian commented, watching the exchange between you both.

“People change,” you bit out, fully aware that you had fallen into the trap, indirectly confirming that something had indeed happened between you and Xavier.

The conversation was cut off when several Velox Venators leaped out from behind the thick foliage.

Their agility presented a challenge after spending time confined to the desk.

“As much as I love having you back on the team”—your partner’s voice rang out as he leaped back, avoiding the swing of your obsidian scythe cutting through the last beast’s tough silver hide—“it would be a shame to see you permanently sitting behind a desk after this.”

The sudden pouring thunderstorm had made the ground mushy, amplifying the pressure on your knee. Concealing the grimace of discomfort became futile at this point.

You followed his instruction to rest once the danger was cleared up, welcoming the temporary bliss of taking the pressure off your knee.

Just as you were about to truly relax, the urgent shouting of one of the hunters crackled through both of your hunter's watches, jolting you back to attention.

「Requesting backup at coordinates 45.6789° N, 87.6543° W 2 injured hunters, surrounded by Elite Wanderers, recruits extraction needed」

Profanities escaped Adrian’s mouth as he followed your leading figure closely behind, navigating through the woods with the programmed coordinates in the watch.

As you reached the clearing, you took in the scene before you. Several senior hunters had come to aid, engaged in a battle against a handful of Thunderoars.

That explained the abnormal thunderstorm.

However, a movement in your peripheral vision caught your attention, drawing your focus to a lone female hunter facing a feline predator. Its build was unusually large compared to the ones you typically encountered.

The beast had curled its tail, its sharp edge gleaming with an ominous sheen, poised to strike.

“Shit!” You sprinted forward as you watched her moment of hesitation. A hesitation that could kill her.

White, blinding pain shot up your leg as you lunged forward, pushing the recruit from the line of attack.

The searing pain in your abdomen came next, stealing the air from your lungs.

There wasn't enough time to dodge the razor-sharp tail as you staggered both from the momentum and the uneven, soft terrain.

The ground rumbled as thorny vines quickly encircled each of the Spurtail’s legs, ensnaring it in a tight grip. 

Even amidst the haze of agonizing pain, your Evol reacted, defending its owner.

You pushed through the pain, striking the Wanderer’s broken protocore shield as it trashed against the barbed tendrils that had nearly swallowed its form.

A wave of exhaustion washed over you as the Spurtail deteriorated. The earth tilted and your knees buckled, scythe slipping from your grasp, clattering to the ground.

When the tell-tale sign of darkness crept into your vision, a glimmer of light danced off a familiar light-ash blonde.

His long legs raced towards you. Running, running, and running…

Past you.

“Y/N, Y/N! Are you still with me?”

Captain Jenna’s face appeared in your line of vision, lips set into a grim line.

When was your back lowered to the ground?

The sky above had cleared up, you realised. A stark difference from the gloom descending upon your heart like a heavy rain.

“Come on, Y/N, you gotta stay with us. You're stronger than you thought.”

The agony intensified as you registered a pair of hands pressing down on your abdomen. A guttural groan ripping out of your throat.

Pearl-red blood, your blood, stained her hands as she tapped your cheeks, desperate to have your focus on her.

“Hey, you can’t leave us, do you hear me?!”

The darkness was almost overwhelming at this point, the words that Captain Jenna shouted becoming incoherent in your ears.

For the first time, you witnessed a look of terror overtaking her eyes as they briefly flickered down to your abdomen once again.

It was unsettling. The mature woman was not one to show such raw emotion frequently.

As your head drooped to the side, you caught a glimpse of his outline crouching beside the female hunter you had pushed away.

Close in proximity, yet intolerably distant.

There was a longing for those blue orbs to be the last thing you looked at before the darkness consumed everything. 

Even with the soothing hum of the medical equipment in the backdrop, a sense of alarm began to creep in as you felt the shift in the air.

“Didn’t the nurse say no visits?”

It only took one air evacuation, just like in those action movies and medical dramas, for people to flock to your bedside once you were out of the ICU.

On the third day, you asked the nurses to refuse any visitors, craving solitude.

“I… may have walked past them.”

By “walked”, it meant that he had teleported to the room. There wasn't a sound of the door opening and closing.

Adrian’s self-blame was predictable, given that he was supposed to stick with you during the mission.

Captain Jenna’s shift from relief to light scolding didn't come as a surprise either.

Even the junior hunter’s profuse apologies were manageable.

Seeing Xavier’s guilt-stricken face several steps away from your bed, however, unleashed a whirlwind of emotion you weren’t sure you were ready to cope with.

“I should have been the one in that bed, not you.”

Your laugh was devoid of humour. “Why? So you can be her hero instead?”

“No!” Distress was evident in his voice and posture as he rushed towards you. “You shouldn't have to endure this. You shouldn't even have joined the mission.”

“We get hurt, it’s part of the job.”

“You almost died!” voice cracking, he collapsed into the seat beside your bed, head buried in hands.

Years of knowing Xavier and that was the first time you had seen him crumble. Gone was his usual calm exterior, replaced by a broken man, drowning in regret.

Even then, your battered heart couldn’t stop the trembling remark, heavy with disappointment and anguish, from escaping your lips, “Yet you ran past me.”

Doe eyes, bright with unshed tears, snapped to yours.

People had said that traumatic events may lead to memory loss, but that day was etched vividly in your mind, each detail imprinted like a nightmare festering in your brain.

“Y/N—”

“Anything you say will not change the fact that things will never be the same between us.”

His face fell, mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

Finally, he settled on a meek plea, “Please forgive me.”

You breathed out, slowly adjusting your position on the bed. Face laced in discomfort as you felt the stitches being tugged.

You were lucky, so to speak, as the Spurtail’s strike narrowly avoided any internal organs. But, the gash was pretty deep, resulting in a significant amount of blood loss.

“Did you know that you used to look at me the same way?” the words tumbled out, a rhetorical question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue for far too long.

He couldn't refute anything.

A sad smile painted your lips. “That should’ve been my only warning, yet I still hopelessly had faith in you.”

If it was possible, the guilt etched on his face deepened. He couldn’t miss the shift to past tense in your words, a bold declaration of the trust he had shattered.

“Whether you realised it or not, you’ve made your choice, Xavier. It’s time to put an end to this—to us.”

The blooms that Jeremiah had placed on the windowsill the day before suddenly lost their luster, mirroring the drastic change in emotion happening within you.

Xavier’s eyes flickered to the pot, helplessly watching the wilted petals droop, surrendering to the vines creeping up from the soil and entangling them with their thorny embrace.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” his words hang heavily in the air.

You didn’t tell him that he was wrong. No, the deep wound he had inflicted could never be healed by words alone.

Eyes fluttering closed, you were determined to keep the tears at bay. “Please close the door on your way out.”

After a few weeks that felt excessively long, you eventually received the green light to return to work.

The desk will be your friend longer, unfortunately, until you fully complete the knee therapy and succeed the reevaluation exam, as per Captain Jenna’s order.

Adrian, still feeling at fault, was determined to fill you in with what had happened while you were gone. Including the gossip.

You were the least surprised to hear about the relationship between Dr. Zayne and the recruit.

If the doctor’s visits during your hospital stay—expressing multiple gratitudes for saving his childhood friend and making sure you had the best care—weren’t any indicator, then you might as well be dense.

“He’s been very closed off,” Adrian remarked as your eyes strayed towards Xavier.

The lone hunter was back to distancing himself from everyone, taking solo missions and not talking unless prompted to.

He was just doing what he did best: tracking down Wanderers and not socializing.

But, you noticed the freshly brewed coffee every morning on your desk, made just the way you liked it.

You noticed the hot packs appearing whenever your face pulled in discomfort from the stiffness of your knee.

Noticed that he never left before you, even when he had the rest of the day off after returning early from a mission.

Noticed, the stolen glances he sent your way.

Was it because he felt consumed by guilt? Or was it because he had to swallow his own bitter pill, watching someone he cared about chose another person?

“They still have your favourite egg tarts.”

Startled, you looked up from the monitor to see Xavier setting two food bags on your desk.

It was the first time he had spoken directly since your return.

When you saw him leave earlier, you thought that he had finally given up and gone home, as you persisted in gathering information about the threatening Elite Wanderer well past working hours.

Even Captain Jenna left first, leaving you alone in the bullpen as the night shift went to grab dinner.

“Thank you,” you murmured gratefully. You opened the bags to reveal a sandwich in one and the egg tarts you used to enjoy together in the other.

Without hesitation, you handed him one of the pastries before he could step away. His eyes widened slightly before accepting it with a faint smile, a sight you hadn't seen in so long.

In the dimly lit room, Xavier’s eyes gleamed like the depths of the night sky, each gaze resembling a twinkling star in a vast galaxy.

It would have been easy to give in to those eyes, to his profound concerns.

But the scar left a permanent mark.

And you were still not able to distinguish whether its sight reopened an old wound or if it proved that you had truly healed.

[caeliuluru]

warmth (in all its forms)

Summary: You are sick. Xavier takes care of you. Tags: gender-neutral MC, established relationship Xavier/MC, so fluffy sweet that YOU might get sick (with diabetes), very slight angst (if you’ve read his anecdotes)

⊹˚₊‧──────────‧─────────‧─────────‧──────────‧₊˚⊹

You've always prided yourself for being on top of things when it comes to your health. It's no surprise that being a Hunter requires a good level of fitness, with all the running around and killing Wanderers. Despite your heart condition, you were considered well enough for your line of work. You eat properly, work out, and get enough sleep (or try to, at least), and you’re quite happy with yourself!

Which is why it is surprising when you wake up with a cough, and a few sniffles. No matter, it’ll probably go away within the day. Out of consideration for the people around you, you pocket a face mask as you head to work, and ignore the slight throb at the back of your head.

The hours fly by. After finishing your paperwork, you go on patrols with another Alpha Team member whose partner caught a bad cold. You even got to say hi to Xavier at headquarters before going out. Your limbs do feel a bit heavier, and some of your shots missed, but you assure your teammate that you’re fine. Thankfully, there weren’t any high-level Wanderers lurking this time around.

Captain Jenna shakes her head when you get back. “Take a break when you get home, you’ve done well today,” she says. Stubborn as you are, though, you don’t pick up on the underlying meaning of her words.

You leaf through some reports while eating a snack, feeling stuffy. The dull pain you felt earlier has intensified to a full migraine.

“Hey! Wanna get some milk tea? Captain Jenna mentioned you looked a bit low on energy today.” Tara beams at you from above your desk. You’d drank so much water today, was it just the city heat? And your favorite drink did sound good…

”Your treat?” You playfully ask your friend, and stifle a cough.

“Of course not! We have the same paycheck, anyway, don’t we?” She pouts and flicks your forehead lightly.

The expression on her face changes to one of concern. “Wait…” She rests the back of her palm on your forehead this time. “You’re burning up! And you still went to work!”

“It was just a cold…” your eyes turn away from her awkwardly, not wanting to admit that you really just wanted to power through the day despite the symptoms.

“Just go home!”

Suddenly, Tara leans to whisper in your ear. “And I’m pretty sure Xavier will do a good job taking care of you.”

She winks, and you feel your fever rise a little bit more, flustered.

The two of you spot a familiar silver-haired hunter coming in your direction. “Well, I’ll head back now. Get some rest, okay? I’ll keep you updated on work. You can’t go fighting Wanderers when you’re sick!”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine in no time,” you reassure her.

“You will, as long as you stay in bed!” It’s that tone she uses when she chides you for working overtime days in a row. You clearly love your work, sometimes to a fault.

She then turns to wave at your hunting partner and recently-made-boyfriend as she walks back to her cubicle. “Hey Xavier!”

He nods in acknowledgment, his usual aloof expression recognizable from anywhere.

If there’s one thing you did notice about him these past few months, however, it’s that it softens when he looks at you.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

You pout.

“I wanted milk tea.”

“And you look like one of the crying kitties in Kitty Cards.” He tilts his head to the side with a knowing look. “It seems that you can’t wait to get a good rest.”

“Aren’t you scheduled for patrol duty?”

“I just finished my shift, which is why I was able to come to you. Now, let’s go.”

Unable to retort, you throw the wrapper of your snack into the bin below your desk and put your face mask back on.

────────────────────────────────────────────

After returning your weapons and packing your things, you commute home with Xavier. The cold air from the air conditioning is a relief, but you still feel too warm. It’s an annoying feeling— and your upset only grows when you feel the sunshine rays on your skin as the train moves above ground. At the very least, you’re glad it wasn’t rush hour, else you’d have to deal with being squished as well.

“We can switch seats if you want. It’s less hot here.” Xavier looks at you, his hand close to yours.

“I’m fine, nothing I can’t handle.” With the heat and your head pounding, it’s tempting to rest your head on his shoulder and drift off, but you arrive at your stop before you can.

────────────────────────────────────────────

Xavier follows you to your apartment, where you both remove your boots and change into house slippers. He doesn’t say a word, only looking through your cabinets for… something.

“You’re not going to cook, are you?” you ask from the bedroom, where you’re getting changed into pajamas. Your voice comes out a bit more hoarse than you expected.

“Mmm… just checking if you still have medicines here.” As you walk to the kitchen island, you can see him place a few medicine packets on the counter.

“I can get you soup from the hotpot place. Stay here.”

“Xavier, I can handle it, really.”

He doesn’t answer, silent as he grabs a small basin to fill with cold water. “Aren’t you tired?” Your head turns toward the direction of his voice, and you follow him into the bedroom. He rummages through your closet for smaller towels, right below the area where his spare clothes are placed. You have a few pairs of clothes in his apartment as well, just in case you slept over.

You acquiesce to his efforts, and finally decide to settle down in bed, wrapping the duvet around you. The soft pillow and the arcade plushies around you add to the cozy feeling, and you try to relax as you watch your boyfriend move around.

He dips the towel into the cool water, and places it over your warm forehead.

“Too cold?”

“No, perfect, actually.”

He takes a seat near your bedside table, hand on your blanket-covered leg.

“You didn’t tell me you were feeling sick.” To many, Xavier is unreadable. But you catch the small changes in his facial expressions. The way the corners of his lips turn slightly upward when he’s waiting for his hotpot order after a long day. The faraway look in his eyes when he looks out the balcony, stargazing. Now, it’s a small frown, although it doesn’t mean any anger. A mix of concern, tenderness, and something else… hurt? Fear?

“I told you, I’m strong enough. It’s just the flu, right? Someone at HQ caught it too, I filled in for them.”

“You can be so hard-headed sometimes, you know that?” His gentle voice wafts over you.

“Says the one who comes home looking like they got mauled by a bear.” You smirk under the face mask, and he huffs in response.

“Some people are delirious when they have a fever. You must be remembering things wrong.”

“Ah,” you tilt your voice higher to sound dramatic. “So the first aid kits I use on you are just delusions. What ever shall I do then, my knight?” He sighs and looks away, a hint of a smile lingering on his face. This time, he doesn’t look necessarily sad. More wistful, nostalgic. “Maybe he’s the one reminiscing,” you think to yourself. When he chuckles, a smile crosses your lips, too.

“Think about good things. And sleep.” He brings the Galaxy Kid plushie beside you. You notice him lift his hand further near your cheek, then move it to pat the stuffed toy.

Before he can fully pull his hand away, you grab his hand and nuzzle into it. It strikes you that this is something that he usually does towards you.

“I still have my knight to thank. How would I ever recover without his service?” You feel his eyes on yours. Although you feel bashful, you hold his gaze. It’s hard to look away from him— not when what’s reflected in the blue is security, comfort, love— only for you.

Then quietly, “I’ll let you know when something happens to me next time.”

He smiles, thumb rubbing your cheek, then gently takes your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“You should rest for now. I’ll get you that hotpot so you can take your medicine already.”

“Alright. Oh, I should message Dr. Zayne, I was supposed to have an appointment with him tomorrow but I’ll just have that rescheduled. I’ll tell him I’m sick.”

He frowns, eyebrows knitted together. “Do you really need to do that immediately?”

Was that jealousy? You hold in your laugh and boop his nose instead.

“Okay, okay. Don’t forget to ask for more tofu with my soup.”

“Mhm.” He kisses your cheek gently. “See you later.”

⊹˚₊‧──────────‧─────────‧─────────‧──────────‧₊˚⊹

A/N: my hc is that other than MC’s heart condition/Protocore Syndrome, she rlly is healthy and fit (realistically i think you would need to be if you were a hunter) but she's the kind of person who tends to get Really Sick if she does fall ill (which is rarely). thinking abt it actually i have a lot of hcs for MC haha.

anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this one! take care, stay hydrated yall <3

[welldonekhushi]

Call of Duty OC: Samantha "Scarlet" Wright 🦋

Finally, after ages, I came up with Scarlet's biography sheet! So in case you guys are curious about her, you can go through this post, hope it helps! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

If you want to see any artwork or fics on her, go to the #samantha scarlet wright tag for her content!

GENERAL

Name: Samantha

Full name: Samantha Wright

Codename: "Scarlet", Hotel Two-Six

Age: 29 years old

Gender: Female

Nationality: British (UK)

Languages spoken: English (native), Arabic (conventionally), Russian (for intelligence purposes)

Date of Birth: June 9, 1984

Place of Birth: Cambridge, England

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Martial Status: Single (married in 2017 to John "Soap" MacTavish, her childhood friend — diverging canon AU)

Occupation: British SAS (Special Air Services), member of the Task Force 141

Status: Active

Rank: Sergeant

Universe: Original timeline (2011-2017), reboot (alternative AU)

Faceclaim: Jenna Coleman

Song: Tangled Up by Caro Emerald (Lokee Remix)

Biography: Samantha Wright, under the codename "Scarlet" followed her dream in joining the most elite forces of the British Army, after hearing about her father's experiences in the military. As her hard work pays off, she finally gets selected for the SAS, and then for the Task Force 141, for her skills and strength. There, she meets a very old friend, that she missed and deeply cared for..

AFFILIATIONS:

Task Force 141

Captain John Price

John "Soap" MacTavish

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Hannah "Sparrow" Clayton (@revnah1406)

Sergeant Annabelle "Kit" Pham (@applbottmjeens)

2nd Commando Regiment (@kaitaiga)

Charlotte "Jade" La Jardin (@sleepyconfusedpotato)

Sergeant Damien Whitlock

Captain Lachlan Jones

Los Vaqueros

Colonel Alejandro Vargas

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Alyssa "Aly" Martinez (@alypink)

SKILLS AND ABILITIES

Weapon induced: M4A1 Carbine, M4A1 Grenadier w/ Red Dot Sight, M14 EBR Scoped

Fighting style: Hand-to-hand-combat, martial arts, a bit of jiu-jitsu

Special skills: Has good agility, wits and strength from intensive physical and mental training.

Talents: Is able to strategise a plan for greater impact.

Shortcomings: Is a bit sensitive and confused when it comes to choosing a decision which leads to life or death.

PERSONALITY

Myers-Briggs Type: ISFP (The Adventurer)

Is a positive presence among everybody: Yes, a soldier sure is a tough-hard individual who is determined to follow their duty, but Scarlet is the opposite. She maintains her duties and also motivates and cheers others up to keep moving and never surrender, as taught by her father. The reason why others notice when Scarlet is present with them, they feel calm and encouraged.

Emotional, but also dangerous: Sure Scarlet looks like she's a sweet presence among everyone, but at the same time, we shall not forget she's SAS-trained. When things get serious, she gets serious. During some missions (1 and 2), she has shown remarkable strength and courage by eliminating enemy soldiers in combat, as if she's a different person. The cheerful presence Scarlet holds among others has another dark side inside that she never reveals, but towards her enemies.

Can indulge with anyone, and is respectful: She'd love to make friends or teammates! It doesn't mean she doesn't give importance to anyone, but she especially bonds a lot with Soap. They two have been childhood friends since the start and everyone notices how close they both are and thinks if they two are a couple. Even if Soap is her best friend and he has a superior rank, she'd still respect him as her Captain. But sure, personally, they two engage like they used to.

Very empathetic: Whether it's a random person or not who is dying in her arms, it breaks her. It happened once when she tried to save a person who was losing their life and in the end they couldn't make it. It makes her want to blame herself a bit, thinking she didn't do her duty right, even if everything wasn't in her power. Also, if she sees anyone in distress, she's able to console and help them in time of need, the reason why Scarlet is able to sympathise and understand others well.

BACKGROUND STORY

Born as Samantha Wright, she lives in a small town in England with her father, Albert Wright, who is a former SAS-soldier under the codename "Bolt", and mother Elizabeth. When Scarlet was a toddler, she used to hear stories from her father about him working in Special Air Services, an elite special forces unit, and retired the day when his one leg was brutally injured that made him unable to walk or run.

Those stories gave Scarlet an idea to also join the SAS like him, but her father chuckled and said that right now she was too young to do so. Sometime later, she met John MacTavish, who recently moved into her neighbourhood from Scotland, but wasn't happy that he shifted away from his homeland. She wanted John to be her friend, and make him familiar with the surroundings so he'll get used to everything and love staying at his new home. And soon, they two grew closer, and became best friends.

They two had a similar goal — to join the defense. And one day, that day had to come between the two, when John had to leave for military school. Bidding her best friend a bittersweet farewell, unsure what future has for them in between, John encouraged her to follow her dreams. Taking that as a motivation, Scarlet kept John close to heart, while continuing her aspiration to join the SAS.

Her father got to know about her plan, saying that it won't be easy, since the SAS had the toughest selection processes. That sure unsettled her for a while, but didn't make her back off from her decision respectively. Instead, she learnt a couple of exercises, tips and tricks on self-defense from him that mentally and physically prepared her fully at the same time.

When she recruited herself in the selection process, it was an absolutely different experience for her. The way her mind drastically changed during the training quite traumatized and scared her, knowing what it feels to be in the SAS. But, keeping her father's words by her side, she didn't let the weakness and fear sink her in and moved on further. At times, she was ridiculed by others that she'd never be able to complete the process, but chuckled it all out instead.

The day came, when her hard work paid off, and she finally became eligible for the special forces. It was a blessed feeling for her, as if luck always stood by her side. And this is where, her journey begins..

[skuntank]

(at this point, I am just disregarding parts of canon to fill in what personally makes more sense to me in regards to how I feel rangers would function within Sinnoh)

The Eterna City Ranger Union

Captain: Gardenia (also holds position of Eterna City gym leader. Answers to Superintendent of western Sinnoh rangers, who then answers to Chief Regional Director of Sinnoh rangers)

Vice Captain: Clive (very large and broad brick shithouse of a man, he's the union base's dad and is very sweet and friendly but can use his natural intimidation to his advantage when the situation calls for it. Can be counted on for anything. He and Gardenia go way back. Functions as union captain when Gardenia has to attend to league duties. People who don't know better tend to assume at a glance that he is the union captain even if Gardenia is standing right there and it pisses her off to no end)

-

Notable rangers:

Lindsay (also Beauty trainer class at Eterna City gym. Temporarily partners with Angela. Considered kind of a priss by most.)

Angela (also Aroma Lady at Eterna City gym. Temporarily partners with Lindsay, normally partners with Jenna but Jenna has mentorship duties right now. Partnership with Lindsay is ..... Strained)

Jenna (also Aroma Lady at Eterna City gym, mentoring Caroline.)

Caroline (also Lass at Eterna City gym. Beginner/internship status. Resident peppy-ass girlscout)

-

The base probably includes around 25 to 30-ish more rangers of varying ranks with varying responsibilities. There are also temp positions that are seasonal as well as positions that deal more with the behind-the-scenes deskwork affairs and don't go into the field often so the actual number of people at the station fluctuates

Each ranger has a main partner Pokemon (ex: Gardenia and her roserade), as well as a human partner they work consistently with (ex: Gardenia and Clive)

Towns are usually a part of districts and are overseen by a Lead Ranger (Lead Ranger oversees a small team in a specific area, ex: Floaroma town has a team of six rangers dedicated to the town and immediate surrounding area. All lead rangers and teams answer to the union ranger base they are under, in this case the Eterna City Ranger Union)

I'm sure there are other ranks and positions I could figure out to flesh this out more but I can't be fucked rn

[thecambriaone]

most wanted?

we'd love to see:

finn, obi-wan kenobi, qui-gon jinn, ezra bridger, sabine wren, captain rex, hunter, bo-katan kryze, din djarin, wrecker, tech, echo, crosshair, baylan skoll, boba fett, fennec shand, cassian andor, bix caleen, rose tico, lando calrissian, jyn erso, nightsister merrin, bodhi rook, chirrut imwe, garazeb 'zeb' orrelios, amilyn holdo, bail organa, breha organa, the hero of tython/jedi knight, ashara zavros, doc, theron shan, satele shan, lord scourge, lana beniko, talos drellik (star wars) sam wilson, steve rogers, thor odinson, bruce banner, carol danvers, scott lang, miles morales, jessica drew, cindy moon, mj watson, ned leeds, harry osborn, lorna dane, pietro maximoff, erik lehnsherr, charles xavier (marvel) percy de rolo, vax'ildan, grog strongjaw, scanlan shorthalt, yasha nydoorin, beauregard lionette, fjord, caduceus clay, veth brenatto, kingsley tealeaf (critical role) dame aylin, alfira, lae'zel, wyll ravengard, halsin, jaheira, minsc (baldur's gate) captain john price, kyle 'gaz' garrick (call of duty) cullen rutherford, alistair theirin, josephine montilyet, cassandra pentaghast, the inquisitor, the warden, hawke, varric tethras (dragon age) sir malcolm murray, sembene, alexander sweet/dracula, dorian gray, brona croft/lily frankenstein (penny dreadful) edward cullen, esme cullen, carlisle cullen, leah clearwater, seth clearwater (twilight)

and:

armand, nicolas de lenfant, gabrielle de lioncourt, daniel molloy, jesse reeves, merrick mayfair, mona mayfair, tarquin blackwood, julien mayfair, jojo mayfair, ciprien grieve (the vampire chronicles/lives of the mayfair witches) lucerys velaryon, jacaerys velaryon, harwin strong, laenor valeryon, baela targaryen, aemond targaryen, helaena targaryen, missandei, grey worm, jorah mormont, sansa stark, ned stark, catelyn stark, bran stark, robb stark, davos seaworth, gendry (game of thrones/house of the dragon) betty cooper, archie andrews, jughead jones, dilton doiley, sabrina spellman (archie comic/riverdale/sabrina) josie saltzman, lizzie saltzman, milton greasley, landon kirby, rebekah mikaelson, marcel gerard, stefan salvatore, bonnie bennett, enzo st john, nadia petrova, jenna sommers, davina claire, freya mikaelson (the vampire diaries universe) rose tyler, donna noble, the fifteenth doctor, martha jones, amy pond, rory williams, bill potts, yasmin khan, ryan sinclair, graham o’brien, dan lewis (doctor who)

[leopauldelr]

A quick six-decade history of BBC's Doctor Who

The 23rd of November, 2023, marks the 60th anniversary of BBC's flagship TV series, Doctor Who. From Classic Who to Modern Who, from William Hartnell to Jodie Whitaker, the megahit TV series became the hallmark of the sci-fi genre since its 1963 airing and evolved into a mixed media project that served as one of the BBC's success stories.

With only two days left before the first part of the Doctor Who 60th-anniversary specials airing on BBC in the UK and on the Disney+ streaming service globally, how did we go from here? The past, present, and future of the Doctor Who series?

Classic Who - Aired on the BBC on November 23rd, 1963, William Hartnell is the very first actor to play The Doctor in the said series, forever laying the foundation of the Doctor Who series. The Classic Who era welcomed the most iconic Doctors in TV history from Hartnell to Sylvester McCoy, a memorable cast of characters, monsters, and a rogue gallery of villains ranging from Daleks, Cybermen, and even his arch nemesis, The Master. Seven classic Doctors (William Hartnell, Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee, Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Colin Baker, and Sylvester McCoy) are forever known as legends not just in the franchise but in the entire TV sci-fi genre.

16 years of void - The Sylvester McCoy era became the final era of the Classic Who and when the TV show was laid to rest in 1989, it left a 16-year void before its 2005 comeback. Of course, the whole Doctor Who team tried bringing it back on May 27, 1996, with a TV movie aired on FOX, starring Paul McGann as The Doctor, but feels like the comeback didn't work as expected.

2005 return - On March 26, 2005, Doctor Who is back on the telly after a 16-year absence. With Russell T Davies serving as the showrunner and actor Christopher Eccleston playing the role of The Doctor, the 2005 revival signaled the start of the Modern Who era. Joining Eccleston is Billie Piper who plays the role of his companion, Rose Tyler, the two witnessed how the world ended, facing off against the Daleks, preventing world catastrophe, and uncovering the truth.

Greatest Doctor of All Time? - Christopher Eccleston's reign as The Doctor lasted for 13 episodes, the entire first season of the reborn Doctor Who TV series, and got replaced by actor David Tennant at the season finale. Making his first moves at the 2005 Christmas Special, David Tennant cemented his status as the GOAT in the Modern Who times. In fact, Tennant's making a comeback in the 60th anniversary special as the 14th Doctor! This marks the first in the Doctor Who franchise a Doctor actor doing two non-consecutive terms.

Teaming alongside Piper as Rose, Freema Agyeman as Martha, and John Barrowman as Captain Jack Harkness aside, the most popular companion in the David Tennant years is none other than Donna Noble, played by comedienne Catherine Tate. First met at the 2006 Christmas special, the two reunite at the beginning of the fourth season and with past companions collide, including the late Elisabeth Sladen as Sarah Jane Smith, a legend companion from the Classic Who times, it showcased the show's exploding popularity.

New Decade, New Who - David Tennant's time ended at the beginning of 2010, and with Russell T Davies stepped down from his showrunner duties, Steven Moffat took over and actor Matt Smith filled in the shoes of The Doctor, signaling the new era of Doctor Who. From The Eleventh Hour to The Time of The Doctor, the Matt Smith years shifted the Doctor Who era to a more family-friendly approach.

During his tenure, the Matt Smith years of Doctor Who introduced companions such as Karen Gillan as Amy Pond, Arthur Darvill as Rory Williams, and Jenna Coleman as Clara Oswald. Actress Alex Kingston, who showed up in the David Tennant years as River Song, popped up as well, showing her origin story and her shocking relationship with Amy and Rory.

After the 2013 Christmas Special, Smith was replaced by Peter Capaldi, showing off his darker undertones while keeping the mantra of protecting the universe by all means. Apart from teaming up with Jenna Coleman as Clara, the Peter Capaldi years welcomed Pearl Mackie as Bill Potts and comedian Matt Lucas as Nardole, who first appeared in the 2015 Christmas Special.

Fast fact that both Gillan and Capaldi got their early stints in the DW Season 4 episode titled The Fires of Pompeii.

50 years of DW - November 23rd, 2013 marked the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who and to celebrate that occasion, a 50th-anniversary TV special, titled The Day of The Doctor, was aired. The Doctors, played by Matt Smith and David Tennant, joined forces with their mysterious predecessor known as The War Doctor, played by the late John Hurt, who popped up at the end of the 7th season. Racing against time, the three Doctors join forces to save the universe.

Long before the explosive 50th-anniversary special went on air, a biopic titled An Adventure of Space and Time was aired, starring David Bradley as William Hartnell, the 1st Doctor. Also, a Doctor Who web short was streamed, showcasing the 8th Doctor getting regenerated into The War Doctor, filling the void that was left after the 1996 TV movie.

Breaking the series' boundaries - The Peter Capaldi years signaled the final time Steven Moffat served as the showrunner and their time ended in the 2017 Christmas Special, Twice Upon A Time, which featured Bradley as The 1st Doctor, Broadchurch creator Chris Chibnall took over the series as the showrunner. Breaking the series' boundaries, the 11th season of Doctor Who welcomed the series' first female Doctor, Jodie Whitaker. During her four-year tenure from 2018 to 2022, the 13th Doctor joined forces with Ryan Sinclair (Tosin Cole), Yaz Khan (Mandip Gill), Graham O'Brien (Bradley Walsh), and Dan Lewis (John Bishop). Together, they've faced numerous enemies, new and old, including the reborn Master (played by Sacha Dhawan), while learning the truth about The Doctor's origins.

Loose ends? - As the Jodie Whitaker years came to an end, it was announced that actor Ncuti Gatwa would take over the role of The Doctor, but first, David Tennant will reprise his Doctor role in the 60th-anniversary specials. Why bring Tennant back to Who? Unanswered questions between The Doctor and Donna Noble after the end of the Season 4 finale. With them returning in the three-part specials, they have one loose end to mend before The Doctor can attain his true regeneration, and that's what the world awaits.

Spin-offs and mixed media - The Whoniverse expands outside the world of Doctor Who with official spin-offs featuring iconic characters and settings such as the R-rated spin-off series, Torchwood, which stars John Barrowman as Captain Jack Harkness and Eve Myles as Gwen Cooper, among others, the kid-friendly The Sarah Jane Adventures where DW legend Elisabeth Sladen reprises her Sarah Jane Smith role and teams up with a group of kids battling alien threats, and then there's Class, which is set at Coal Hill High, the same school appeared in the world of Doctor Who. Word from the outside world is there was a TV show called K-9, which features The Doctor's robot ally K-9 in its entirely new form. 

TV shows aside, the Whoniverse also expands outside the TV screens in the form of comic books, novels, audio dramas, and others. One such example is the Doom's Day project which features a mysterious character named Doom as she spreads across the Whoniverse from comic books to audio dramas, racing for her life to find The Doctor. The Doom's Day project is part of Doctor Who's six-decade celebrations.

Six decades of Doctor Who, no, the Whoniverse. The past, present, and future of the Whoniverse will never stop expanding and as the world prepares for the show's 60th-anniversary specials and the imminent arrival of the new Doctor, expect brilliant things to come in the Whoniverse.

Happy 60th anniversary to the Whoniverse!

Image: BBC

[female-fogbank]

No one asked for it, but I wrote Erica x Jenna - Captain's chair cause I love these two and why not?! You can also read it on AO3

“What do you think?” Jenna asked Erica as the majority of the crew were down with a bad strain of Targaryen flu. They had a skeleton crew working the ship as they made their way to a starbase to get extra medical assistance.

“About what?” Erica asked her.

“The Captain’s chair,” Jenna told her, Erica looked at her for a long moment. Jenna raised an eyebrow in a suggestive manner. That sly smile played on her lips that got Erica’s heart pounding in anticipation and excitement.

“You mean?”  Erica asked in a daring manner, it was something she had whispered in the dark. Fun little sexual fantasies that were normally not viable because people would see them. Or it was against regulation or a mix of the two. Erica was pretty sure that it was an unspoken rule that no one fucked in or on the Captain’s chair. It was what made it so delightfully forbidden and fun to strategise over.

“You said it was your fantasy…and here we are, alone. There’s only 5 people on duty. We can lock down the bridge and pretend it was a system’s glitch because of the lack of staff,” Jenna drawled daringly. Erica nibbled her bottom lip as it was very tempting. Jenna smiled teasingly as she waited for her to cave.

“Ok, but we gotta be quick.” Erica told her, Jenna smiled as she locked down the bridge doors and caught Erica into her arms. They kissed as they kicked off their boots. Jenna pulled off Erica’s uniform top and singlet. Erica moaned as Jenna massaged her breast and slightly pinched her nipples. 

“Pants off now,” Jenna ordered, she sat down in the chair and gave Erica a heated look as she lowered onto her lap. She was so fucking gorgeous, her trim figure, beautiful lightly tanned skin. Jenna pressed a soft kiss to the light scars that were scattered over her torso. The remnants of the Klingon war and youthful misadventures.

She ran her hands over Erica’s back, slowly dragging them down, enjoying the little moans and whimpers it elicited from her. Erica was always leaning over her console which led to back aches. She moved her hands and cupped her breasts, and pinched her nipples just enough, it sent zings of pleasure straight to her pussy. She nearly came when Jenna plunged two fingers into her. 

Her hands tightly gripped the fabric of Jenna’s uniform as she didn’t fight the loud moans. She dropped her head back, relishing the pleasure Jenna gave her as she paid homage to Erica’s breasts with her mouth.  

“Fuck, you’re so wet, I just want to eat you out right here and now,” Jenna murmured hotly against her skin. Her fingers retreated as she spread Erica’s juices and circled her swollen clit, teasing her.

“Still can,” Erica gasped, her body felt hazy with desire, her heart pounding as the predatory gaze in Jenna’s eyes turned her on even more. She loved her, loved how well Jenna knew her body. She gave Erica exactly what she needed without question and seemed to take immense pleasure in it.

“Next time,” Jenna whispered before she slipped her fingers back into Erica’s aching pussy. Her body desperately clutched onto her fingers. Erica whimpered and rocked her hips, Jenna stroked her, her thumb expertly strumming her clit. “I just want to watch you come apart on me right here, like this, drenching my hand with your come,” she told her.

“Fuck,” Erica moaned as she felt Jenna slide a third finger inside her. A small tremors of her impending orgasm raked through her. The pleasure was too much and not enough, the slick sounds of her fingers, Jenna’s voice as she said the filthiest things to her. It spiralled her out, it made her feel alive and bold, she handed control of her pleasure to Jenna. 

Within moments, Erica was completely mindless in her pleasure. Jenna nuzzled her neck as she drove her fingers into her aching core over and over.

“Please,” Erica begged, she needed the release. Jenna smiled against her skin. She licked her collarbone down to her breast. She captured Erica’s taut nipple and bit down just as she thrust her fingers deep in her, Erica’s body exploded as the orgasm tore through her like a wild storm.

Erica grabbed Jenna’s head and crashed her mouth down on hers in a messy but passionate kiss. She groaned into Jenna’s mouth as the last wave of pleasure washed through her. She broke the kiss and pressed her forehead to hers.

“Oh my god,” Erica said, breathless as she had come so hard, her core was still twitching with the aftershocks.

“It was fucking hot, we should’ve done that sooner,” Jenna told her,  her eyes electric, her cheeks flushed with arousal. They shared a soft kiss, Erica whimpered when Jenna slipped her fingers slowly from her body. 

“Bridge, do you copy?” Spock’s voice rang through on the comms. Erica cursed, she practically leapt out of Jenna’s lap.

“Bridge here,” Jenna replied, she smiled cheekily as she still remained in the Captain’s chair.

“I have been trying to access the bridge for the past minute and 30 seconds. Why are the doors and turbolift access to the bridge locked down?” Spock demanded.

“Oh, ah, I don’t know. It looks like a glitch.” Jenna said as she tried not to laugh as Erica nearly fell over when she pulled on her pants.

“I am not seeing any technical issu-”

“Look at that, it’s resolved itself, everything is back to normal, come on up,” Jenna told him, she licked her fingers enjoying the taste of Erica’s spent pleasure while her other hand lifted the lockdown on the bridge doors.

“I am on my way,” Spock told them.

“I haven’t even got my boots on,” Erica whispered as she grabbed her boots and sat down at the helm.

“Better hurry,” Jenna said cheekily, as she returned to navigation.

“Damn, I love you,” Erica told her, she stole a quick passionate kiss before she retook her seat which was just in time. As the turbolift doors opened and Spock strolled onto the bridge in his usual brisk manner.

“Anything to report?” Spock asked them.

“Besides that weird glitch? No, everything is fine, how was it in engineering?” Erica asked him.

“Tiresome,” Spock replied in a low voice as he sat down at his usual station at the bridge.

“What was that?” Jenna asked.

“Commander Pelia has it under control.” Spock said in a tired voice.

[mysteriouslytransparentwombat]

Hey, Have you entered Jade lee's giveaway to win Love, Secrets, and Desires: Win a $10 Amazon Gift Card from Jenna Jaxon yet? If you refer friends you get more chances to win :) https://wn.nr/UX7crbX

[natashxromanovf]

I want to see you smile

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff × fem!Stark! reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: swearing (I think that’s it? If not, please let me know)

Type: fluff, friends to lovers

Summary: What happens when one friend falls in love with another? Are feelings mutual?

A/N: If you haven’t already noticed, I’m in love with friends to lovers trope. So yes, that’s what I’m writing. Again. In this fic, Thanos doesn’t exsist and everyone is alive. Just for clarification, Jenna is supossed to be Morgan’s babysitter. Also am I passing my obsession with Soy Luna to Morgan here? Yes, I am. This song is just so beautiful, yet sad at the same time. I don’t really like this, but oh weel, not everything can be amazing. Enjoy <3

Here's the link to the song

“And don’t forget to turn in your essays tomorrow!” yells the teacher, right before the bell rings, dismissing you from your last class. You pick up your backpack and look at Peter, who just stood up from his chair. “Are we hanging out today?” you ask. “Yes, we have to go to the compound, remember? Everyone will be there, there’s some important meeting, even we have to attend,” he explains. “But Steve said it’s not going to be long, so we can hang out after,” he says and you nod. Peter and you were best friends, ever since junior year of high school. The first time your dad introduced him to you (not knowing you two already know each other), was hilarious.

“Y/N, come in here honey!” yelled Tony from the common area. You were doing your homework, minding your business when you heard your dad calling you. “Coming dad!” you answered back. Once you got to the dining area, your father immediately started to speak “I want you to meet someone.” he said, gesturing to the boy beside him. As your head turns, you recognize this boy as none other than Peter Parker. “Peter?!” 

“Y/N?!” you both scream at the same time. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your eyes wide, surprise lacing your voice. “What am I doing here? The better question is what are you doing here?” he squeaked, his expression matching yours. “Woah, Woah, Woah, you two know each other?” Tony asked, just as confused as you were. “Yes we know each other, he’s basically my best friend,” you explained, Tony’s jaw dropping to the ground. “So that’s why you never let me come to your house,” chuckled Peter, finally putting all the pieces together. “Yea, that’s why.” you gently smiled. “Let’s introduce again, shall we? Hello, I’m Y/N, Y/N Stark.” you introduced yourself, making Peter laugh slightly. “Hey Y/N, I’m Peter Parker, also known as Spider-man.” now it was your turn to be surprised. “You’re Spider-man?!?” you asked. “And you’re a Stark! We’re even.” 

“I guess we are.”

Once you got to the compound, everyone was already there, even Morgan, to your surprise. “Mom, what’s Morgan doing here?” you question. “Wait a second, mom what are you doing here??” you now almost scream. “Didn’t Dad tell you?” she says and you shook your head no. “Oh, well, I told him to tell you, but what can you expect from Tony Stark?” she sighs. “Last mission went wrong and now a HYDRA base knows the addresses of all the Avengers, including ours, that’s why I’m here. And about Morgan... well we couldn’t reach Jenna, so we took her with us.” she frowns. “Oh, okay-” you were cut off, by none other than the famous Captain America. “Okay, so, I know you’re probably asking yourself ´What the hell are we doing here on our free day?´ but I have a good explanation for it. It has come to our attention that while we were on our last mission, fighting off HYDRA agents, some of them snuck into our jet and stole some information, including our home addresses. Now, since more than half of us lives here, or is from another planet,” he says, gesturing to Thor, “it’s not so serious, except for Tony, Pepper, Y/N, Peter, and Bruce. Your addresses have been compromised, so I would suggest for you to stay here for a couple of weeks, just to be safe.” he ends his long explanation, and all of you agree to stay here. “Wow, I need to call Aunt May,” says Peter, and you nod, gesturing for him to go. After you shoo Peter away, to go and talk to May, Pietro appears behind you, his usual smirk printed on his lips “Hey, printsessa.” he greets and you wave. “Hello Pietro, how are you?” you smile, his presence always making you happy, no matter how hard the day was. “I’m good, you?" he questions. “I’m okay, it just sucks a little, all this not-going-home thing. But at least I get the time to hang out with my favorite speedster.” you chuckle, Pietro joining. You make small talk, just usual things. Somehow you end on the couch and the next time you look at the clock, it’s already time for dinner. Today is Wanda’s turn to cook, and to say you are starving is an understatement. You couldn’t wait for her famous paprikash.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a couple of days since the meeting and you and Peter just came back from school, to a very unusual scene. Before you, there are all the Avengers, looking at something on the big screen. You and Peter look at each other confused, as to what could leave them in such a state. As you get closer, you see what they’re all so interested in. It’s a show called Soy Luna and you burst out laughing, now all the attention focusing on you. “Y-you’re watch-watching Soy Lu-Luna?” you say through giggles, making some of them blush. “Well, as a matter of fact, it really sucks you in.” defends Natasha, receiving hums of agreement. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“On which episode are you?” Peter asks. “I think it’s season 3, episode 25,” answers Wanda. “Oh my god, I love this episode, scoot over,” you say to Bucky, gesturing for him to move. He moves a little to the right, making space between him and Wanda. You sit in the middle while Peter sits on the ground, besides Steve. “Morgan wanted to watch it, right?” you ask, a smirk still playing on your lips. “Yea.” Wanda sighs defeated, and your smile widens, just a little. Right as you were about to turn your attention to the screen, Morgan appears in front of your eyes. “Hey bubba, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be watching the series?” you question, your brows furrowed. “Yea, I just wanted to be with you!” she exclaims and turns around, sitting into your lap. “Awwww,” you whisper, overwhelmed with her cuteness. 10 minutes in, Morgan screams that your favorite song is coming. “Look Y/N, Matteo is about to perform your favorite song!”

“You’re right Morgan,” you say, trying to calm her down from her excited state. “Will you sing it? Pleaseee,” she demands, looking at you with puppy eyes. Oh, damn it, not her puppy eyes, you think, agreeing, because c’mon, who can say no to those pretty eyes of hers. “But only because you asked nicely,” you add, making Morgan smile. Soon enough, the first tunes of Quiero verte sonreir start to play. She looks at you expectantly, as do all the others. Right before you start singing you make eye contact with Pietro. 

“No lo puedo evitar,

yo no te dejo de pensar,

y las noches son frías si tú no estás.

No lo puedo entender,

como no te has dado cuenta...”

(I can’t help it, I can’t stop thinking about you, and the nights are cold, if you’re not here. I don’t understand, how you haven’t noticed...)

There’s something in his eyes, that makes you not look away, not wanting to look away. Finally, your stare breaks, as Morgan bumps you, wanting some attention. “...Pero tengo miedo de pensar,

que no te vayas enamorar...”

(...But I'm afraid to think, that you’re not going to fall in love...)

You bump her nose, making your heart feel loved, because you made your little sister happy, even if just for two minutes.

Your eyes are back on Pietro, decided to dedicate the chorus to him, even if he doesn’t understand you.

“... Quiero verte sonreír,

quiero verte junto a mí,

no puedo ya no quiero,

no es fácil ocultar mis miedos...”

(I want to see you smile, I want to see you next to me, I can’t take it anymore, I don’t want to, it's not easy to hide my fears...) 

But you forgot there’s someone else in the room, who speaks Spanish fluently. As the song comes to an end, you know what’s coming, so right when you finish with your singing, you quickly scream: “Someone cover Morgan’s eyes, she’s too innocent to see what’s coming.” as a joke, not expecting for Bucky to actually cover her eyes. “Oi, Barnes, I was kidding!” you say while laughing your ass off. You spend the rest of your afternoon with your team, binge-watching Soy Luna, completely falling into trance. The duty of cooking dinner falls on you and Peter, others still not turning their eyes away from the screen. You decided to cook Mac and cheese, the only thing you both actually know how to cook. “How long have you been into Pietro?” he suddenly asks, making you choke on your water. “Wh- what?” you struggle while coughing, Peter tapping you on your back, helping you to regain your breath again. “C’mon, you don’t have to pretend with me.” he smiles, reminding you just how of an awesome friend he is. “Is it that obvious?” you ask, looking at him like you just swallowed a spider. “No, but I notice these things, the way you look at him, the way your lips always form a smile, the second you lay eyes on him, the way you speak to him like you’re gonna melt any second. Besides, I speak Spanish, so that right there,” he gestures to the living room, “tells me enough.” he finishes with a light chuckle. “Shit, I forgot you understand Spanish,” you exclaim, joining him. “Soo, you like me?” you hear someone say, his thick accent lacing his voice, knowing who he was. “Fuck,” you whisper under your breath, slowly turning around. “How much have you heard?” you carefully ask, scrunching your nose and closing your eyes. “Enough,” he says, that adorably annoying smirk playing on his lips. “I’m gonna just slowly go, because, well, this is awkward.” Peter quickly exits the kitchen, making you angry at him for leaving. “Is it true?” you hear him say, and you focus your attention back on him. Oh, fuck it, you think before speaking “Yes, it is. But I know you don’t feel the same, so can we just pretend this didn’t happen, because I don’t want to make things akw-” he crashes his lips onto yours, guiding them into a sweet yet passionate kiss. His hands are on your waist, yours travelling up his body till you reach his hair, slowly playing with his blond curls. Cheers erupt from the door, making you look at them. And there they are, the whole team clapping and cheering, a “Finally! I couldn’t take the tension anymore!” escaping Wanda, making you chuckle. “I hate all of you, I swear to god,” you say, looking away from them and into those beautiful ocean eyes of his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[echo-bleu]

To Fall, There Is Death

This work was created for the @rnmbb Roswell New Mexico Big Bang 2020 event.

The amazing @slynella/Slynella was my partner for this event and created three absolutely wonderful illustrations for this story! The artworks are incredible and I love them to pieces, thank you so much Sly 💙

Huge thanks also to @eveningspirit for helping me build the plot of this and handholding through the writing. This fic was hard to write, both because I got lost more than once in the narrative and because I basically left the fandom when I was less than halfway done. But, here it is.

This fic is loosely based on both Dumas' The Three Musketeers and BBC Musketeers, and borrows some plot elements (and a few lines) from the latter, but there is no historical accuracy whatsoever and it is set in the fictional kingdom of Antar. The title comes from “Quo ruit et lethum” which is the actual motto of the Musketeers: To Fall, There Is Death. The header of each part is a chess move or a chess opening, usually with some relation to what happens in the part (and a few where I just liked the name :D).

[apparent deaths by shooting and hanging, mentions of war and injuries, canonical levels of violence, past abuse]

Read on AO3 (13k).

The day Alex died was the beginning of the end.

Liz would be hard pressed to tell when it had all started, when the pieces had first been put in motion. So much had happened to lead them there, one step away from checkmate, one step away from the end of the game.

Maybe it had started six months ago, when the King died. She remembered the funeral ceremony that gathered all of the court and so much of the city, Max and Isobel’s regal and solemn faces. Max had worn white, and knelt to receive the crown on his head. “The King is dead,” they’d chanted. “Long live the King!”

But things had been moving even before that. Maybe it had started a year ago, when Lord Michael first came to the court and challenged Alex to a duel. Alex had been injured already, barely able to stand on his feet. Liz remembered the absolute shock on his face, when Michael had pushed back his hood and revealed himself, after the King introduced him as his natural son.

Alex had lost the duel. He’d stood there afterwards, dazed and devastated, unable to take his eyes off Michael for one second, like he’d expected him to disappear again. He’d spent most of the next three weeks drinking himself to the ground every evening, just to dull the pain that never left his eyes.

So maybe the pieces had already found their place ten years ago, in that time Alex only ever hinted at, when he and Michael were engaged to be married. He’d never told Liz and Maria the story. “There was a man, once,” he’d said. “He died.” Kyle had probably known more, after all he was Alex’s friend when they were children, but he never said. In all the years they’d known Alex, though, there were always these shadows in his eyes, that spoke of a dreadful weight, a longing and a guilt that never left him.

*

Bishop Takes Knight

Now

The Musketeers on duty stood in line for muster, as Alex limped down the ranks and inspected their gear. Musketeers had to be dressed perfectly in every circumstance, boots shiny and blue cape draped over their shoulders, because they could be called to attend the King and the royal family at any moment. Liz was with Maria at the very end of the line, Alex’s seconds-in-command, his most trusted people. Kyle wasn’t there, because a patrol had come back injured from a skirmish with the Red Guard the night before and the surgeon hadn’t slept all night, getting a bullet out of a Musketeer’s shoulder.

Alex handed out orders for the day and dismissed his Musketeers. Liz and Maria joined him in the armory, since they were to be on duty at the Palace that day, and together they selected loaded muskets and their trusted swords.

There was nothing to indicate how horrendous things were about to get, except maybe for the slight trembling in Alex’s hands as he fit his scabbard on his belt, or the way Liz and Maria squeezed his shoulder a little tighter than usual before going to ready their horses.

They barely had time to step out of the garrison, leading their horses out of the large wooden gate, before everything went to hell.

“Musketeers!” a voice rung out, harsh and unforgiving.

Alex froze in his steps, recognizing the figure in red before any of them. There were half a dozen Red Guards scattered around the square, unmoving, watching them, and in the middle, Lord Michael, in full leather armor under his red cape. He had several pistols on his belt, and one held loosely in his hand.

“Manes,” he added with venom in his voice. “Still standing, I see. Still the Captain.”

“Michael,” Alex answered, his voice smaller and shakier than Liz had ever heard it in public. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to finally do what I’ve been waiting for for ten years,” Michael spit out. “I’m here to kill you.”

Liz fully expected Alex to take a fighting stance, bring out his pistol and defend himself, but he sagged instead, looking defeated. What had become of her friend, the war hero who went up the ranks so fast he became the youngest Captain ever? Where had Alex Manes, the fearless soldier, best swordsman in the Kingdom, gone?

She’d seen the change, of course. The last year hadn’t been easy on Alex. Ever since Michael first came to the court, he’d been different. There was a spring in his steps, at first, just knowing that Michael was alive, but with the months passing, with Michael showing his loyalty to Jesse Manes at every turn and his hatred of Alex, it had grown into a weight, a ball and chain he dragged everywhere with him.

Liz hadn’t realized that it had gotten that bad. Alex wasn’t defensive, he was resigned. It was almost like he wanted Michael to kill him. Like he felt that he deserved it.

He gave Maria the reins of his horse, and turned back to Michael, facing him.

“We can still work this out,” he said, his voice low and sad. “There are other ways, Michael. You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I believe I do,” Michael snarled, still speaking loudly so that everyone in the square could hear him. “You had me hanged, Alex. On the day we should have been wedded.”

Alex looked stricken. “I didn’t–”

“I was in your bed, for months. I know who you are, deep inside. Definitely not a morally uptight Musketeer. You disgust me.”

“We can settle this like gentlemen,” Alex said, hand going for his sword. “Last time I was injured, but we can duel again. The King isn’t there to stop us from dueling to the death this time. You can have your reparation.”

Michael waved his pistol around. “Damn the rules!”

“Michael!” Liz cried out. This was too much. If Alex wasn’t going to defend himself, then she would. “The King will never forgive you if you do this.”

“The King is my brother,” Michael spit. “He’ll choose me over one Musketeer. Especially one who’s been a thorn in everyone’s side for so long.”

Liz closed her eyes. She wanted to believe that it wasn’t true, that Max truly respected Alex and wouldn’t stand for this, but how well did she really know the King? Just because he liked her, because he always asked her to be his guard and they’d had a few moments together, didn’t mean she knew what he was thinking. This was a matter of politics, the King and the Prime Minister, the Musketeers and the Red Guard. It would never be a simple question of friendships and personal preference.

When she opened her eyes again, Michael had his pistol trained on Alex.

“Michael,” Alex murmured. “Please. I never wanted this. I loved you.” He had tears running down his cheeks.

Michael’s jaw was set, but he twitched at the words.

“You never loved me,” he snarled. “I was just a toy to you, that you discarded at the first occasion. How was it like, Alex, to see me hang at the end of a rope? How did it feel?”

Alex let out a sob. Michael locked eyes with him.

It all happened fast. Michael aimed his pistol just as Alex looked away, devastated. The shot rang out like a death sentence, echoing across the square.

“Alex!” Liz screamed, as her friend collapsed. She ran to Alex’s side, all thoughts of safety be damned. He was lying on his side, unmoving.

“Lord Michael!” someone cried. The Red Guards around the square started moving, rallying around Michael as the Musketeers took out their guns. But there wasn’t going to be an all-out battle, not today, not like this. Michael looked at them disdainfully and turned away, taking his men with him.

“Kyle! Kyle, come here right now!” Maria yelled toward the open gate of the garrison, joining Liz at Alex’s side.

But Jenna Cameron was already moving Alex, checking his pulse. “It's too late,” she said. “He's gone.”

Liz stayed frozen for a second, incapable of believing it. She looked between Alex’s still form and Michael, now retreating from the square without even a look behind him.

“Come back, you coward!” Liz screamed at the top of her lungs. She launched toward him, but Maria caught her across the waist and held her back, sobbing.

Michael’s steps halted for a brief moment, but he didn’t turn. He kept walking away until he disappeared down a side street.

Liz collapsed against Maria, and they both fell to their knees crying, cradling Alex’s lifeless body.

*

King’s Gambit

A year ago

Liz winced as Alex hit the floor hard, head first, grunting in pain. The whole court cheered, but watching it brought her no joy, no excitement. Alex was the best swordsman in the whole Kingdom, he should have easily won against a fresh-faced arrogant Lord, bastard of the King or not. But the asshole was good, and he’s provoked Alex when he was already injured, just a week out of being stabbed grievously enough that his left arm was of no use. Liz seethed in anger as he sneered at Alex from above.

“Come on, you’ve got to surrender,” she murmured under her breath. She hoped her friend would have the common sense to understand that his health was worth more than winning this ridiculous duel, even if he felt the heavy gaze of his father, the Prime Minister, on him.

Maria, beside her, was holding her breath just as much. She knew how much Alex’s abused body could handle, and this was already too much. They sighed in unison as Alex rose to his feet once again, stumbling on his boot-covered wooden leg before dropping into a fighting stance. Lord Michael goaded him openly, exchanging a few parried blow before he plunged under Alex’s guard and elbowed him hard in the temple. Alex crumpled to the floor.

Liz was almost relieved that Alex didn’t rise again, until she realized that he’d passed out. Maria rushed to his side, taking his pulse, and Liz only started breathing again when she looked up and nodded.

“Goddammit, Alex,” she whispered. Cameron squeezed her shoulder from behind.

They both sighed in relief when Alex made it back to his feet with Maria’s help, and knelt in front of the King.

“You fought well, Captain,” the King said. “But my son is an excellent swordsman, and you are obviously injured. Do you accept your defeat?”

“I do,” Alex answered through gritted teeth.

“Very well. Then I declare Michael, count of Dimaras, the winner of this duel. Michael, will that satisfy your call for justice?”

“It will for now, my King,” Michael answered, kneeling beside Alex. “The rest of my claims will be settled another day.”

Liz stared at him, wondering exactly what he had against Alex. She’d never seen him before, so it was obviously something from Alex’s past, from the time he never spoke about. Alex had that look on his face that she’d only seen on his worst days, the ones where he drowned himself in wine, or trained until he collapsed in exhaustion.

There was a story there, and it wasn’t a happy one.

It took several days for it to come out. Alex spent them in the worst mood, spending his days in the armory despite his injuries, hacking at straw mannequins until he couldn’t feel his arm anymore. His friends didn’t push him. Liz and Maria recounted the duel to Kyle in detail, of course, but they didn’t try to force the story out.

They knew their friend. Words didn’t come easily to Alex even on the best of days, but now between his concussion and his exhaustion, he could barely string together a sentence. He seemed to be in shock.

When he was finally ready, one night at the tavern, after almost a full bottle of wine, the words came out stumbling over themselves. It was disjointed, slurred, barely intelligible, but Liz understood enough. There was a boy, once. Lord Michael, before he was the King’s bastard, when he was just a street orphan. He and Alex had fallen in love and gotten engaged. Alex’s father had disapproved, and made it clear, but they were going to elope.

And one day, Jesse Manes had found them in the gardener’s shed, and he’d glimpsed the fleur de lys branded on Michael’s shoulder, marking him a thief and a convict. Alex hadn’t cared, he’d trusted Michael, but it gave Jesse the opportunity he’d been waiting for to destroy them.

He’d attacked Michael with a hammer, and then, by the authority granted to him as the lord of his lands, he had sentenced him to death. Alex had been powerless. The last thing Michael had seen before the rope suffocated him was Alex’s tears.

Except that somehow, Michael was alive. And he held Alex responsible for what had happened to him. His knight in shining armor, the one Alex had thought would steal him away from his monster of a father, had become the black bishop of Jesse Manes’ game, intent on taking his revenge against Alex.

“Ten years learning how to live in a world without him,” Alex sobbed into his bottle when he finished. “What do I do now?”

Liz didn’t have an answer. She hugged him tight until he fell asleep.

*

Endgame

Now

On the day of Alex’s funeral, the sun shone high and hot in the sky and it felt like it was the universe’s way of laughing at them. Liz got up early to clean her leathers and polish her boots until they shone brighter than they should have been able to, given how worn they were. She checked her uniform meticulously, taking particular care of the fleur de lys engraved pauldron that marked her commission and the expensive rapier Alex had gifted her years ago. Squaring her shoulders for the hard day ahead, she walked down the ranks of solemn Musketeers, adjusting blue capes and leather doublets as she gave out orders. Alex deserved them at their best, and she was going to make sure that they were.

The service was beautiful and heartbreaking. Commander Valenti gave the eulogy and all the Musketeers stood at attention under the heat as the casket was lowered into the ground. Alex had been a well-respected and beloved Captain, who’d always taken care of his men.

Liz felt a pang when she saw Gregory Manes, freshly returned from the war on their border, shed a tear as he threw a rose on the casket. He was the only one of Alex’s brothers that she liked, the only one who supported him. Jesse Manes stood, impassible, as people came to offer their condolences. He never even twitched a muscle, and Liz hated him for it.

She kept observing him throughout. This was the man who had had his own son killed. They all knew whose orders Michael had acted on, even if he’d pretended to do it out of revenge. Liz, whose own father was an immigrant tavern owner who’d done everything for his daughters, couldn’t understand how a man like Jesse Manes could even exist. He hadn’t hesitated to have Alex murdered because Alex threatened his position as the Prime Minister.

And now he stood there and didn’t even have the decency to show some grief. He was dressed in the black of mourning, but he looked at people with the same disdain, the same arrogance as he always did.

This was a man who thought himself untouchable.

Liz was going to prove that he wasn’t. They were moving toward the last stretch of the game, and even with Alex gone, she would make sure Jesse Manes didn’t win. She patted the stack of letters tucked into her leather doublet. One way or another, Alex would be avenged.

*

Zwischenzug

Three months ago

“Alex!” Maria exclaimed as Alex joined them at the long mess table in the garrison’s courtyard. Kyle moved to give Alex space to sit down on the bench, while Liz grabbed a bowl of soup for him. “Where were you? We looked for you everywhere!”

“Did Commander Valenti ask after me?” Alex asked, dropping onto the bench.

It wasn’t the first time, in the last few months, that he’d disappeared on them like this. He had done that before, but usually they found him passed out somewhere in a tavern, or occasionally curled up in bed in his room, in too much pain to move. But recently, it had changed. He rarely drank too much anymore, and wherever he went every few days, he came back looking rested and content. It wasn’t common when it came to Alex, so his friends hadn’t pushed him to reveal his whereabouts. That day, though, he seemed on edge.

“No, we just thought we might hit the tavern,” Liz answered. “Dad is making rice pudding tonight.”

“I have something to tell you first,” Alex said, lowering his voice. They all leaned in to listen. “I just came from the Palace. You’ve all heard that Princess Isobel is pregnant?”

They nodded. It was the talk of the month everywhere in the city. Princess Isobel was King Max’s twin sister, and since the death of the old King four months ago, the next in line for the throne. King Max had yet to marry, even though he was already twenty-eight, so Princess Isobel and Prince Noah’s child would be the first Prince or Princess of the new generation.

“You remember how I told you that my father will try to regain more power?”

Liz nodded. “He had the old King’s ear, but Max hates him. He’s been talking about appointing a new Prime Minister.”

“My father won’t stand for it,” Alex said. “He will move against Max soon. He knows Max won’t let him keep his position for long.”

“But what can he do?” Maria asked.

Alex’s eyes turned stormy. “He’s ruthless. He plays the long game, and he’ll stop at nothing to get even a scrap of power. My source says that Prince Noah is his henchman, he’s the one who convinced the old King to arrange this marriage. He wants to get Isobel on the throne.”

Liz widened her eyes in shock. “By killing Max?”

Alex just nodded.

“But Isobel hates him just as much as Max does,” Maria said. “It wouldn’t change anything, would it?”

Alex bit his lip. “It looks like he has some kind of leverage on her. With that and Noah’s influence, he could get her to do what he wants. And–” he hesitated.

“What?” Kyle pressed him.

“Now that Isobel’s pregnant, he could also eliminate her as soon as she gives birth,” Alex sighed. “If he played his cards right, he’d be named Regent.���

Liz swore under her breath. This was bad, worse than she could have imagined. “How do you know all that?” she asked.

“I’m getting...inside information,” Alex answered. “That’s all I can tell you, I can’t put my source’s life at risk. But we have to stop my father.”

“But how?”

Alex ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking exhausted. “I don’t know yet. But I will figure it out. In the meantime, we’ll double up all our guard duties for both Max and Isobel. We won’t let them get hurt.”

*

Castling

A month ago

The convent was easy to defend, its thick outer walls ready to weather a siege, but the inside was cold and sparsely furnished. The weather was just starting to warm up, spring giving way to summer, but Liz shivered as she stared at the lime-washed walls, her linen shirt too thin to keep out the chill.

“I can't believe you slept with the King!” Alex exclaimed, throwing his hands up. He was pacing back and forth in the corridor outside the Mother Superior’s private chambers, which had been ceded to the King for the night. They’d arrived at the remote convent the night before, under fire from a host of unidentified mercenaries, intent on killing the King.

“Alex, not so loud,” Liz whispered back. She wrung her hands together, nervous. “It was special circumstances, okay? He was scared and someone was trying to kill him. He just needed some reassurance.”

“And you had to sleep with him?” Alex lowered his voice. “After what happened to Rosa? Liz, did he force you?”

“No, of course not!” Liz clasped a hand over Alex's mouth, worriedly looking at the door behind which King Max was asleep. “He didn't force me. He didn't even ask me, I offered.”

“I don't understand,” Alex said. “We're here to protect him. We spent the whole day yesterday under heavy fire because someone is after him. And he's the King, Liz!”

“I know.” Liz looked away. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. Max had looked so down, so alone, she’d just wanted to offer comfort. The sex had been a spur of the moment thing, and although she was convinced neither of them had really forgotten why it was wrong, they hadn’t cared. Max might be the King, but he was a human being just like any of them, with his own fears and desires, and Liz had felt close to him ever since he started requesting her as his personal guard more often.

“Oh my God, you're in love with him,” Alex realized. “Fuck. That's a development I didn't expect.”

“I'm not in love with him!” Liz protested, but her voice wavered. She could see in Alex’s eyes that he was far from convinced.

She was about to argue more when she saw a nun approach from the corner of her eyes.

“News?” Alex asked.

The nun, a young, fresh-faced woman who seemed nervous and shy under her black veil, pointed toward the convent’s courtyard. “Your friends are back.”

“Good. We'll be with them in a minute,” Alex said. “We'll talk again later,” he added to Liz.

“Alex?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Yes?”

“Can we keep this quiet for now?”

Alex sighed. “Of course. The King sleeping with a commoner, be it a Musketeer, is not something we want to shout from the rooftops, anyway. Is this about Kyle?”

Liz shrugged. She and Kyle had found comfort in each other, back when they first became Musketeers. Liz had never been in love, and she liked Kyle more as her friend than whatever they had been back then, but she knew he still felt something for her that wasn’t just friendship. She didn’t want to hurt him, and knowing that she’d slept with the King, of all people, surely would.

“Fine,” Alex grumbled. “Let's go.”

He had sent Maria and Kyle with most of the Musketeer team that had traveled with them to pursue their assailants yesterday, after they had managed to make them flee. Liz was relieved that there hadn’t been a single casualty on their side, whether Musketeer or civilian. They had done their best to protect both the nuns and the King, but if it had come to it, the King would have had to be Alex’s priority, and Liz knew he would forgive himself for putting nuns in the line of fire, however willing they had been.

Their friends looked tired and dirty, but not injured. “Did you catch them?” Alex asked.

“No,” Kyle shook his head. “We almost got one, but they disappeared. Only thing we found is one of their horses.” He gestured behind him to one of the Musketeers, who lead a horse over.

“Any identifying marks?” Alex asked.

“Only this,” Maria said. She pointed to the embroidery on one of the saddlebags. Five dots, joined by a thread, making a lopsided W, in yellow thread on the dark leather.

Alex took in a shocked breath.

“What is it? Do you recognize it?”

“That's Cassiopeia,” Alex said. “That's Michael's symbol. His men are the ones who attacked us.”

He brought a hand to his throat, cupping the ever-present gold medallion and ring he wore on a chain. Liz had never asked what they were, but since Alex had told them his story, she’d assumed it was his engagement ring, and maybe a portrait of Michael. She’d seen him do this very gesture many times over the past few months, nearly any time Michael’s presence at court came up, but rarely with such anguish on his face.

“This was in the saddlebag,” Maria said, handing over a stack of what looked like letters, tied with a brown cord. Alex took them with a frown. “Nothing else?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

He nodded tightly, and ran a hand over the embroidered constellation. “I should have known my father would send you,” he muttered. “He knows where to place his pieces. What have you done, Michael? What are we going to do?”

*

Giuco Piano

Ten years ago

They were seventeen, and in love. The sky was full of stars above them, on a warm summer night. Alex and Michael were lying in the grass at the very edge of the Manes estate, behind the gardener’s shed. The gardener, for whom Michael worked during the day, had long retired in his  house further up on the hill, and Michael had brought out the blankets he used to sleep on a straw bed in the shed.

Alex spun the thin golden ring on his finger. Michael had given it to him earlier that day, going down on one knee, a plan already formed for them to get married and escape the Manes estate and its bigotry by the end of the summer. He had made the ring himself, during the shifts he picked up at the village smithy. He’d even plated it with gold he’d saved up from the jewelry people asked him to repair.

Michael was good with his hands. He was good with everything, really. He was smart and quick-witted, and he knew the name of every plant in the estate’s garden. He’d taught himself to read and write, and he spent his night poring over thick tomes Alex snuck out of his father’s library for him.

It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t allowed to make use of all of this knowledge, just because he’d been born a commoner. An orphan. He’d told Alex about all he’d had to do just to survive, unable to even get an apprenticeship because he had no parents to sign a contract. The years of labor, from an age too young to remember. The abusive employers, the orphanages, the streets.

The jail he’d ended up in, and escaped from. Alex knew what the mark branded on his shoulder meant. It meant that Michael had been convicted and thrown in prison, at fourteen, for stealing food from the market. It meant that even if Alex’s father had been willing to let him marry a man, and a commoner to boot, it would never, ever be a criminal like Michael.

That was okay, because Alex had no intention of asking him. In a few days, he’d turn eighteen, and they would run away together.

Right now, they could enjoy a summer evening together under the stars, far away from prying eyes.

“This is Ursa Major,” Michael pointed at the sky. “It looks a bit like a frying pan. Then Ursa Minor. The brightest star is called Polaris, it's the brightest of all stars. Then Draco, the dragon, goes around it, see? A curve here, and then back. My favorite, though, is Cassiopeia.”

“Where is it?” Alex asked.

“There,” Michael pointed a little to the left. “It has five major stars. Like a W, see?”

“I think so,” Alex murmured. “Yes, got it.”

He turned to press a kiss on Michael's cheek. “I like listening to you. Keep going.”

“Cassiopeia is the prettiest,” Michael said. “It was named after a queen who thought she was the most beautiful person in the world, more even than the nymphs. She angered a god, Poseidon, and he set a sea monster on her kingdom. She had to sacrifice her daughter to appease him.”

“Ugh,” Alex made a face. “That's not a nice story.”

Michael shrugged. “I like it, I think. The daughter was saved by a hero and married him. Sometimes I wonder what my mom sacrificed me for. Maybe she's safe and happy somewhere out there.”

Alex squeezed his hand. “Yeah. I wonder that too,” he murmured. “My father would happily sacrifice any of his sons for the kingdom. Me especially. He wouldn't even blink.”

Michael sighed. “I wish that weren't true. We'll get out of here as soon as we're married, right? Then he can't touch us anymore.”

“We'll never truly be out of his reach,” Alex said. “He's the highest ranking officer in the kingdom already. He'll be Prime Minister soon.”

“Then we'll just have to go really far away,” Michael whispered.

Alex closed his eyes and let Michael kiss him, wishing that were possible.

*

Fork

Now

“It’s done,” Michael stated, throwing his pistol on Jesse Manes’ desk. It made a dull thud. Manes looked up and deigned giving Michael his attention. “He’s dead. I’m sure the word will reach your office soon.”

“Any clean-up needed?”

“No. Full daylight, as you specified. Dozens of witnesses can testify that I did it alone. You have nothing to worry about.”

Manes stares at him for a few seconds, then pushed the pistol away from his paperwork and put it aside. “Good,” he said, in clear dismissal.

Michael ignored the implicit order and dropped into a chair, pulling his feet up on the desk. Manes scowled.

“I thought I would feel something more than this...emptiness,” Michael muttered. “I loved him, once.”

“Are you sorry you killed him?” Manes asked him, annoyed.

“Regrets are pointless. Right now, I need help. His Musketeer friends won't let this go unpunished, and even my status will not be enough, not if they can reveal that I'm branded.”

“You're just as weak as Alex after all,” Manes sneered. “I thought you were different.”

“Weak? No. Just practical. I haven't forgotten that you're the one who gave the order to hang me, Minister. I have very few reasons to trust you.”

“You're right, you're not like Alex. Maybe I can still make something of you.”

“You can use me,” Michael offered. “Ortecho and DeLuca want revenge. They want me. Exchange me against the letters.”

“They have leverage. Why would they give it over?”

“It's become personal. Alex was the one who wanted you gone. The other Musketeers care about very little beside their wine and their petty quarrels with the Red Guards. You hand me over, they'll let the letters go.”

“What about you? Why would you even offer that?”

Michael shrugged. “I'll take my chances against them. I came to the city to kill Alex, and I have accomplished my mission. With the old King dead, I doubt Max will keep me in court much longer, and if he learns about my past, he won't take it well. My best bet is to disappear again.”

“So you think you can slip their watch and escape the city?”

“With Alex dead, I'm the best swordsman in the city. I can take two Musketeers.”

Manes shifted in his seat. “Very well. We'll offer the exchange.”

*

Bad Bishop

A year ago

“Careful,” Alex murmured, wincing in pain. He shifted his position until he was more comfortable on the bed, waiting until the ache in his shoulder subsided a little.

“Sorry,” Michael said sheepishly, untangling himself from Alex’s limbs. Propping himself up on his elbow, he trailed his fingers down Alex’s chest to his navel, tracing every scar.

It had been three days since the duel, since Michael had declared his feud with Alex in front of the court and then tended to his wounds and forgave him in the privacy of his chambers. Alex’s arm was still too sore to use, though he’d discarded the sling, and his concussion was just starting to clear up, so he was off duty for the time being, by Kyle’s order. Michael had found them a room in a small inn outside the city, known to be discreet, where they’d spent the night learning each other’s body all over again.

They’d changed, in ten years. Both of them had become different men, forged by hardships and age, but their love hadn’t altered. It was scarred by the wounds Jesse Manes had inflicted on it, just like their bodies, but it was just as strong.

Alex reached out with his good arm to touch Michael’s throat, which he was seeing bare for the first time. The deep rope burn there had become white with age, but it was impossible to miss without the high-collared uniform to hide it, a stark reminder of what their love had cost Michael.

Michael’s face fell, sadness replacing his prior playful smile. “It wasn’t you, Alex,” he said.

“I know,” Alex murmured. It didn’t make it hurt less. He’d blamed himself for ten years, for letting his father catch them and giving him an excuse to go after Michael, and he wasn’t going to stop now. He’d failed Michael in every way. He’d watched him hang, unable to save him from that fate.

He’d walked away, unable to stand the sight of his lover at the end of a rope, and that had somehow allowed Michael to escape.

“I love you,” Michael said. “What your father did isn’t your fault.”

Alex just sighed and let his hand fall back to the bed. Michael leaned in to kiss him, softly, and continued his exploration of Alex’s body with his left hand, the scarred, gnarled fingers brushing against his skin.

He reached past Alex’s waist and down his naked hip, to where his right leg ended just below the knee. Alex froze. His wooden leg was resting somewhere beside the bed, the stump naked and ugly, swollen from overuse. He hadn’t let Michael touch it yet, or even really look at it.

But Michael didn’t pause, didn’t recoil back in disgust. He kept touching Alex’s skin, his fingers light like a feather despite their obvious stiffness. Alex shivered as he slowly went over the scars, then back up the inside of his thigh.

“That alright?” Michael asked in a whisper, looking back up at him.

Alex nodded mutely.

“What’s this?” Michael asked, cupping the medallion that hung from Alex’s neck..

Alex blushed and hung his head. “Open it,” he murmured.

Michael’s breath hitched when he saw the tiny gold plaque inside the medallion, delicately engraved with the lopsided W of Cassiopeia.

“I had it made after you—” Alex cut himself off and swallowed, the words stuck in his throat. “I could never forget you, but I needed to remember what I was fighting for. It kept me going.”

Michael ran his thumb over the engraving, then around the clumsily made golden ring he’d once given Alex.

“When all this is over, I’ll make you a much better ring,” he said.

Alex smiled tightly. “I like this one. But we can get matching rings for our wedding, after all this is over.”

It felt weird to even dare think about such a future, after the one they’d dreamed of had been ripped away from them. It felt like tempting fate. But Alex wanted to daydream again, to stop living like he’d die tomorrow.

To stop wishing that he’d died ten years ago.

“How’s the plan going?” he asked, shaking those thoughts out of his head.

“I think he’s starting to believe me, after the duel. He knows I’m the one who stabbed you in the shoulder too. I’m still sorry about that, by the way.”

“You don’t need to say it every time we meet,” Alex snorted. “I know. I understand why it was necessary.”

Michael nodded. “We’ll need him to really trust me, though. He needs to think that I hate you enough to be willing to ally with him, and that’s not going to be easy.”

“My father isn’t an easy man to fool,” Alex contemplated. “Do you know how to play chess?”

“I’ve learned,” Michael said.

He hadn’t known, back when they were engaged. Alex remembered trying to teach him the basics, but they hadn’t had time for more. He hoped Michael’s game was solid, because they were going to need it. “My father is a master player. Beating him at his own game will be hard, but he taught me well.” Alex bit his lip. “He’d use his belt every time I lost. Which was every game, until I finally learned.”

Michael made a complicated face, full of anger and sadness but also impatience. “Then you’ll have to guide me,” he said with a playful smile. “I can be your pawn.”

“Nah,” Alex shook his head, smiling along. “You’re no pawn. You’re...a bishop, maybe. White bishop pretending to be black.”

“I like that,” Michael smirked.

“I’ll like it more when we’ve won the game,” Alex replied.

*

Queen’s Pawn Game

Four months ago

“Where are we going?”

“I think I’ve figured out the next part of our plan,” Michael said, dragging Alex by the hand. Alex checked that no one was likely to see them, but the place was empty for now. Princess Isobel’s private quarters were off-limits to everyone but her personal servants and, apparently, Michael.

“Michael,” he called, before Michael could take him any further. Alex stumbled a little on his wooden leg when Michael stopped brutally. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” Michael relented. “I’ve been looking for something to use against your father for months. I’ve finally found it. Something that can bring him down.”

“What is it?”

“I asked Isobel—”

“What?” Alex interrupted him in shock. “Do you know how dangerous that is? What makes you sure she won’t just throw us in jail for plotting against the Prime Minister?”

“Calm down, Alex,” Michael sighed. “I know what I’m doing. Isobel wants him gone as much as we do.”

Alex just shook his head, still in shock.

“She says she knows how to get proof that he abused my father’s confidence,” Michael said. “Look, at least heart her out. She’s my sister, she’ll never rat me out.”

“What about me?” Alex asked.

“She admires you. And she hates your father. She will help, I promise.”

“Fine,” Alex relented, though his misgivings weren’t alleviated much. He’d avoided telling even Liz, Maria and Kyle about his plan, by fear that it would somehow get back to his father’s ears. And Michael went straight to the Princess? There was no way this was going to end well.

Isobel was waiting for them in her sitting room, regally sitting on a richly-decorated armchair. She was wearing a blue satin dress with a complex embroidery along her corset and a mounting collar, with matching sapphire necklace and earrings. Her hair was pulled up with pins and braided at the top of her head.

“Captain. Michael,” she welcomed them. “Please sit.”

Alex bowed and obeyed. “Your Highness.”

Isobel didn’t beat around the bush. “Michael told me you’re looking for proof of your father’s misdeeds.”

“I’m—” Alex fumbled, looking for a way to answer that wouldn’t risk implicating him or Michael.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you for details,” Isobel brushed it away with a sweep of her hand. “I believe I know where to find what you need. There are letters. He will not have destroyed them, because they serve as his insurance policy.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked. “Your Highness,” he added as an afterthought.

“You can drop the address when we are in private,” Isobel said dismissively. “The letters are between him and respected members of the court. They detail a plot fomented to overthrow the old King, years ago. It failed, because some of the plotters opted out at the last moment, but your father keeps the letters as proof to blackmail them into doing his bidding. And if he ever goes down, they will go down with him.”

“If you know all this, why don’t you expose him?” Alex dared to ask. This was not how he was supposed to speak to a member of the Royal Family, and he knew he was overstepping, but he had to know. “What does he have over you?”

Isobel leveled him a glare, but didn’t call him out on his impropriety. She started huffing, but her gaze grew sad instead. “He has Rosa,” she said quietly. “And that means he has me.”

Rosa. Free-spirited, beautiful Rosa. The best of them all, cast out of the court like a criminal and sent back to her father’s country, forbidden from any contact with them.

“You had her exiled!” Alex lost his temper before he could check himself. Rosa had been his best friend, the fourth of the invincible group he formed with Liz and Maria. She should have become Captain, not Alex. But she’d gotten too close to the Princess, and she’d paid the price for it.

That was why he watched Liz’s infatuation with the new King Max, Isobel’s twin brother, with wariness. He wouldn’t let the same thing happen to another of his Musketeers, to Rosa’s little sister.

“I did not,” Isobel sighed. “Your father did. She found those letters, she was going to expose him. Manes had her cast out and convinced my father the King to marry me off to Noah, who is loyal to him. He’s been dangling our relationship over my head for years.”

Alex couldn’t stop his anger now that it was out. He could only think of the tears on Liz’s face when her sister went missing, the months of thinking she was dead in a ditch somewhere. “And you think you got the short end of that stick? Rosa’s all alone in a country she’s never lived in, stripped of everything she accomplished for herself! For all I know she’s still a prisoner, too!” They’d gotten one letter, after months of silence, hand-delivered by one of Isobel’s maids. It had been upbeat and hopeful, like only Rosa could be when things were desperate, and Alex knew she hadn’t told them the whole truth.

Isobel looked away. “I know that, Captain. That’s exactly why I can’t expose your father. I can’t risk Rosa’s life, and he’s capable of having her killed if I take a single step wrong. That’s why I need you.”

“Why now?” Alex asked. “He’s been Prime Minister for eight years. What’s changed?”

Isobel sighed. “You can’t repeat this to anyone. Not even your friends, not until the official announcement is made.”

Alex silently put his hand over his heart as a promise.

“I’m with child,” Isobel said. “My marriage is...what it is, and I was willing to sacrifice many things for the peace of the kingdom, as long as my father was the King. But Max hates your father, and they’re already battling each other by way of new taxes and border strategies. I fear that it will turn into war soon. I won’t let my child get caught in the middle.”

Alex inclined his head. An expectant mother would do a lot for her child, he knew that. And Michael trusted Isobel. He could work with that. “Where are the letters?” he asked.

“Manes keeps them in his office, in a locked drawer.”

Alex exchanged a look with Michael. His father’s office was deep inside the palace, constantly guarded. Getting there without getting caught would be almost impossible.

He stood up and bowed deeply. “I will do my best, your Highness,” he said. He still had misgivings, but if Isobel was telling the truth – and why would she lie? – this was their chance to win the game. The Queen could do a lot of damage on a chess board.

“Captain,” Isobel called him, prompting him to straighten up. “Michael told me some of what happened to the both of you. Manes will not go unpunished for that.”

“He was within his rights,” Alex said bitterly. He didn’t know what to think about the fact that Michael had told Isobel about them, but he had told his friends, too. He couldn’t blame Michael.

“Maybe, but he hurt my brother. He will get what he deserves.”

Alex nodded, still doubtful. “Thank you, your Highness.”

*

Hedgehog System

Two years ago

Alex propped himself up with one crutch carefully as he tended to his horse. He groaned in pain when the young mare shifted her head brusquely and he had to side step, his stump brushing on his other calf. It had been just over two months since he’d been amputated, and the wound was slow to heal, his body still reeling from the infection that had almost killed him.

He wasn’t really supposed to be up and about, but most of the Musketeers were out on palace duty and he was bored. He couldn’t focus on paperwork anymore and he was too wound up to sleep, so he’d come to the stables to have something to do.

His mare moved again, and Alex barely avoided tumbling to the floor, his balance shot. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all.

“Alex!” a voice called. “Where are you?”

It was Rosa. Alex dropped his brush and grabbed his second crutch, leaning against the wall of the stall. “I’m here!” he called back, making his slow way back to the courtyard.

“Alex,” Rosa sighed, seeing him. She didn’t scold him for leaving his room, which was Alex’s first clue that something was very wrong. The second was the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“What happened?” he asked, worried. He dragged himself to a bench and sat down, gesturing her closer.

“I have to leave,” Rosa said.

Alex frowned. “Leave? The garrison?”

“The country,” Rosa sighed, drying her face. “I have to run.”

“What do you mean?”

“Isobel and I...we got caught,” she sobbed. “I have no choice.”

Alex closed his eyes briefly, then put a hand on her shoulder. “Rosa, who caught you?” He knew that Rosa has been seeing the Princess in secret for months, since before he and Liz had gone to war. They’d been discreet, but Alex had found a note Isobel had given Rosa by accident once, and she’d confessed everything.

Rosa bit her lip and met his eyes, hesitating. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Isobel is engaged, and I’m just a commoner. If I don’t leave, they’ll have me executed.”

Alex hugged her as she cried, until Liz and Maria returned from the palace. The goodbyes were painful. Rosa was forced to pack light, leaving with only her horse – most of what she had belonged to the garrison, anyway. She could barely stand to tell her father, but he accepted the truth sadly, preparing her as much food as she could carry for the journey.

Liz collapsed as soon as Rosa’s horse passed the garrison gates, weeping in Alex’s arms. Rosa could never come back, now. She’d have to make a whole new life somewhere, in a country at war with their own, and it was hard to tell if they’d ever see her again.

*

Center Game

Four months ago

Getting their hands on the letters turned out to be easier than they’d hoped. It was once they found them that things started to go awry.

Michael had orchestrated a commotion in the palace, enough to attract the Red Guards that stood outside of Jesse Manes’ office away. Alex knew that his father was attending the King, so he picked the lock and took Michael inside. They’d both been in the office many times, and they knew where Jesse kept his confidential papers and prized possessions. The drawer was locked, but it was the work of minutes to get it opened.

There were multiple stacks of paper inside. One was an entire bundle of blank lettres de cachet signed by the old King that made Alex wince internally. His father having that kind of power didn’t sit well with him. These letters could condemn someone to death without a trial or any kind of proof of a crime – only the whim of whoever held it. It was undoubtedly how Jesse had managed to have Rosa exiled.

The second bundle proved to be the one they were looking for. Alex untied it and started looking over the letters to check that it was all of it while Michael stood guard outside.

“Michael, look at those names,” Alex pointed at the headers of some of the letters.

Michael approached and read over his shoulder. “Valenti, DeLuca… They were involved?”

“It looks like it.” Alex sighed, his excitement dropping. “If these letters implicate them, we can’t use them. I can’t do this to Mimi, or to the Commander and Kyle.”

“It looks like it’s only the old Commander, Kyle’s father, not his mother,” Michael said, leafing through the sheets of paper. “But Mimi DeLuca was definitely involved.”

“So this is all useless?”

Michael didn’t have time to answer, because there was a commotion outside. “Guards! Why did you leave your post?” It was Jesse Manes’ voice.

“Shit,” Alex murmured.

His father was too close to the door, there was no way they would be able to get out in time.

“Hide,” Michael whispered hurriedly.

Alex didn’t have time to grab the letters from where he’d dropped them back into the drawer. He stumbled to the balcony and flattened himself against the window frame, hoping against hope that his father wouldn’t notice. It was a terrible hiding place, but there was nowhere else in the office that would fit him.

“Lord Michael, what is the meaning of this?” he heard his father ask.

“I happened to pass by your office on my way to see what was going on in the north wing,” Michael answered, his voice loud and formal. “I saw that it was unguarded and opened, and when I checked that everything was alright, I was almost ran into by someone fleeing the place. I think they searched your desk. I tried to stop them, but I was too late.”

Alex heard someone ruffling through papers.

“Minister, it was a Musketeer,” Michael added. “I saw the uniform.”

Alex held his breath.

“Alex,” Jesse muttered. “Of course. Him or one of his friends. No point in trying to close down the palace, those damned Musketeers have free reign here.”

“I don’t think he had time to take anything,” Michael said.

Jesse ruffled through papers some more, then sighed. “I have to go attend the King,” he said. “I’ll leave you in charge of tightening the palace security.”

“Yes, Minister,” Michael answered. “I will see to it immediately.”

Alex heard their steps retreat, and then the door closed. He didn’t dare move, in case Jesse had remained in the office for any reason, but he couldn’t hear any noise.

Several minutes later, the door opened again. “Alex?” Michael called quietly.

Alex stepped out back inside, grumbling as his leg protested his standing on it for too long. “He’s gone?”

“Yeah, he’s with the King. I sent the guards away for now and made sure no one would notice. We can’t take the letters now, though, or he’ll know.”

Alex cursed through his teeth. “Why did you have to tell him it was a Musketeer?”

“I needed his attention off of me,” Michael said. “If he thinks it’s you, he won’t search for the person responsible any further. The plan doesn’t work if he doesn’t trust me.”

“What plan? Even if we can steal the letters at a later date, we can’t use them. I can’t do this to Mimi and Maria.”

They discreetly walked out of the office and into another corridor, entering the Princess’s wing. This was the only place in the palace where they could be reasonably certain that they wouldn’t be overheard by someone with ill-intent.

“I think I have an idea,” Michael said. “It won’t be easy, and it might be dangerous. But that’s the way you play chess, right? Take risks?”

Alex shook his head. “My father wouldn’t agree with you. He makes hard decisions, but he doesn’t take risks.”

“And you?”

Alex shrugged. “I’ve learned that playing by his rules doesn’t give me the advantage.”

“Good,” Michael smiled. “So, maybe we can’t use the letters to incriminate him, but there are other ways they could be helpful. Getting my hands on them will take some time, but it should be easy enough. He’s starting to trust me.”

“How is that useful to us?”

“He’s going to make his move against Max soon. We need him to trust me enough to ask me to do his dirty work.”

Alex blinked. “You want him to ask you to kill Max?”

“I’ll start dropping hints,” Michael said. “That I’m frustrated that Max won’t give me more power, unlike the old King, that I’ve done this kind of thing before… With my past, he won’t have trouble believing me, and if he thinks he has leverage over me, he won’t think twice.”

“So you want to what, stage a murder?”

Michael laughed. “No, just convincingly fail at my task. And once he’s asked me that, we’ll have proof that he’s conspiring against the King.”

“He won’t give you the orders in writing,” Alex said. “He’s more cunning than that. It will be your word against his.”

“That’s where the letters come in,” Michael smirked.

*

Drunken Knight Opening

Two weeks ago

It happened in a matter of seconds. One moment, Alex was stumbling around the town square outside the garrison, drunk and depressed, ready to collapse into bed. The next moment, he had Michael in a choke-hold, and he was holding a dagger to his throat. Michael had shown up out of nowhere, running from a back alley, and Alex honestly couldn't have explained it if he tried, except to say that his body reacted long before his mind caught up.

“Alex,” Michael let out a strangled whisper. He tried to free himself, but Alex was restraining him too strongly.

“I knew you weren't telling the truth,” Alex hissed. “You had ulterior motives. You just can't let things go, can you?”

“Alex, I don't know what you're talking about,” Michael tried.

“Alex!” Maria called from the garrison door. Alex turned to her sharply, almost driving the knife straight into Michael's neck in the process. “What are you doing? He's the King's brother!”

“He's a liar and a thief,” Alex spit out. “And my father's spy.”

“Alex,” Maria tried, her hands up to show she was harmless. “You're drunk. Free him and we can talk.”

Alex’s rage spiked, hard and unforgiving in his chest. Maria was looking at him with something like pity in her eyes, like he was good for nothing more than her contempt, a shadow of her once great capacity for compassion. Maria, who had let herself be seduced by Michael, who still defended him after Alex had told her everything. She’d probably given him information about Alex, ways to reach his weaknesses.

“You!” Alex rounded in on her, not letting go of Michael. “You slept with him! Are you in love with him?”

“You don't understand,” Maria sighed. Liz came up behind her, her face resigned and sad.

“No, I don't,” Alex said.

“I didn't know, Alex. I swear I didn't.”

They circled each other a few times, in slow steps. Alex could see Liz out of the corner of his eye, ready to intervene, Kyle and his medical kit, waiting.

“Will that do?” he murmured in Michael’s ear.

“Lots of people watching us,” Michael whispered back. “I see Red Guards coming. It should convince your father.”

He chose that moment to free himself of the choke-hold. The main gauche nicked his neck, but the amount of blood wasn’t enough for it to be a serious injury.

Alex immediately drew his sword, but he stumbled, too drunk to fight properly. Michael threw him stumbling backward into Liz's arms, a slash of his blade sending fire down his arm. And just like that, the fight was over.

Michael disappeared into the crowd, swallowed into the sea of red uniforms arriving at the scene.

*

Promotion

Now

“How was my funeral?” Alex asked from his seat by the window, in the shadows, where he’d been watching the garrison’s courtyard slowly fill up.

“Very emotional,” Liz said, carelessly throwing her rapier onto the bed. “Commander Valenti had a lot to say about you. Your father looked very uncomfortable.”

“I'm sorry to have missed it, I wish I'd seen that. Any news from Michael?”

Maria shook her head. “Not since he killed you.”

“You’re never going to let us live this one down, are you?” Alex asked.

Faking his shooting in the middle of the street had been a rehearsed affair, with the help of a blank pistol and creative use of cow blood. Alex’s best friends and Commander Valenti were the only ones who knew. They’d had to bring the Commander in on the whole plan, but though she’d scolded them about taking unnecessary risks, she was overjoyed to get the opportunity to get back at her long-time rival. Jesse Manes had been a thorn in her shoe for too long.

“You and your lover just faked your murder to take down your father,” Maria said. “Things don’t get much more romantic than that.”

“You read too much,” Kyle grumbled.

Liz plopped down on Alex’s bed. “What now?”

“Michael should be talking to my father as we speak,” Alex explains. “He’ll propose to exchange himself for the letters. And since my father will think that getting revenge against Michael is more important to you than blackmailing him, we’ll have the leverage we need.”

“I still think this is a needlessly complicated plan,” Maria crossed her arms on her chest.

Alex shrugged. “But it will work,” he said. “We have a few days to prepare, and I have a mission.” He pointed at Maria. “You’re going to wait for Michael to contact you, and set up the exchange. I’ll give you the details.” He turned to Liz. “Since I need to make myself scarce until then, you and I are going on a trip. We’re going to get Rosa back.”

Liz and Maria looked at each other. “You think it’s safe?” Maria asked.

“I’ll make sure it is,” Alec nodded. “Our job is to get her here. Michael will handle the rest.”

Liz’s face lit up and she got up from the bed to hug Alex. “Thank you,” she murmured in his ear. “Thank you. Dad’s going to be so happy.”

*

Magnet Sacrifice

Two weeks ago

“So we finally meet properly,” Michael said with a smile, shaking Liz’s hand, then Maria’s. “I feel like it’s long overdue.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding us,” Liz joked.

Alex felt a little like his parallel worlds were colliding, his day life as a Musketeer and his night escapades with Michael. Having Michael here, at the garrison – even if they’d taken precautions and let him in through a back door, and he wouldn’t go past Alex’s office – was both exciting and terrifying. They were playing a dangerous game.

“How did it go?” he asked, cutting the pleasantries short.

“The altercation got back to his ears, as planned,” Michael said. “And he knows you have the letters. He sees you as his main threat, and me as his ally.”

“So you've convinced him that you hate me and that you're on his side?”

“Almost. Just one tiny detail left.” Michael shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

Alex frowned. “And what is that?”

“I need to kill you.”

Alex’s friends erupted in questions and protests, while Alex stared at Michael, considering.

“Eliminate a threat and collar you in the same move,” he said slowly. “That sounds like him.”

Michael nodded. “I think he wants to both be certain that I really hate you, and make sure that he has me under his thumb. If I kill you in broad daylight, in front of witnesses, then he’s the only thing standing between me and jail.”

“He probably likes the dramatic irony of it all, too,” Alex rolled his eyes. It sounded just like his father. He wasn’t a dramatic man for the most part, doing everything with military precision and very little imagination, but when it came to torturing his family, he’d always been inventive. He’d forced Alex to watch Michael be hanged, ten years ago. Alex hated remembering what he’d done to his mother until she left, but it had been ugly.

“So, can we do it? We’d have to make it convincing.”

“Wait, you’re actually going to do it?” Liz protested.

“It’s the only way to get at him,” Michael said. “If I don’t do it, he’ll stop trusting me.”

“Won’t it put a wrench in your plan? You still haven’t told us the whole plan,” Maria accused Alex.

“That’s true,” Alex admitted, raising his hands in the air. “I didn’t want to until we were sure it was going to work. I’ve told you about the letters.” He waved at his desk, where the stack of letters Michael had stolen from Jesse Manes’ office were kept under lock. “My father is very careful not to leave a paper trail. We have the letters, but we can’t use them. Michael can testify that my father had him try to kill Max, but it’s not enough unless we have some kind of confession. So Michael came up with a plan.”

“We both did,” Michael corrected. “You gave me the idea.”

“Let’s say it was a collective effort,” Alex conceded. “My father doesn’t know that we can’t use the letters. Maria’s parentage isn’t public knowledge, and Jim Valenti is dead. He’s desperate to get them back. So we came up with an exchange: the letters, against Michael’s head on a platter. We convinced him that Michael and I hate each other, first with the duel, and more recently when I attacked him.”

“Oh, so that was why,” Maria raised her eyebrows.

Alex nodded. “He’s the King’s brother, so I can’t touch him. My father thinks that I want his hide for how he ‘humiliated’ me. We’ll stage the exchange carefully, in a place where he thinks he has the superior position, and I’ll trick him into a confession. He won’t be able to resist showing me he’s won.”

“That sounds like a really complicated plan,” Maria frowned.

“He’s a master chess player. He’d see through something simpler right away.”

“But then how does it work if Michael ‘kills’ you?” Liz asked.

“It will be even better,” Michael said. “Because he won’t feel threatened anymore. I’ll kill Alex, secure my position. You’ll make the exchange, pretending that you don’t care about the letters and just want revenge. With Alex gone, he’ll think he’s untouchable.”

*

Zugzwang

Now

“You murderer!” Liz hissed as soon as Michael walked into the church, on Jesse Manes’ heels. Maria put a hand on her wrist to keep her from lunging at Michael.

They had chosen the church for the exchange because it would be empty at this time of the day, and it was neutral ground. Holy ground. Even Jesse Manes wouldn’t dare try something there. He’d come without guards, unwilling to trust any of them with this mission. A few coins had gone to the priest to make sure that they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“You shot him in cold blood!” Liz cried out again. She was a good actress, Michael has to give her that.

“He would have done the same to me,” Michael shrugged, lowering his collar to expose his neck, and the scar there. “He did, once.”

“Entertaining as this is, perhaps we should get down to business,” Manes said coldly. “Give me the letters, and you can do what you want with Michael.”

Liz took a step forward, and Maria let her go. She bowed her head.

“Minister, I’m sorry for you loss. I’m sure that discovering that your son was killed by one of your own men was devastating. I was surprised to hear that Lord Michael was still free.”

“He was...useful,” Manes said. “Are you aware of the contents of the letters?”

“Oh, she knows,” Michael said through his teeth.

Liz put her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Shut up, you traitor,” she spit out.

“She knows you tried to depose the old King,” Michael said anyway, putting as much contempt in his tone as he could. It wasn’t hard. He had plenty of contempt in store for Jesse Manes. “She knows you tried to kill the new one, too. But she doesn’t care, as long as her precious Alex is avenged.”

Manes hissed in shock and grabbed Michael by the collar. “You told them?”

Michael shrugged cockily, no trace of fear on his face. “I told them everything.”

“You’d murder the King, just to get your little favorite on the throne?” Liz asked, moving so that she was on Jesse Manes’ other side. “Why? Haven’t you got enough power already?”

“It wasn’t about power,” Jesse sneered.

“Of course it was,” Michael said, pushing him away. “You just wanted your own puppet. Max is too opinionated for you.”

Jesse let him go, his face reddening in anger. “You understand nothing.”

“Then tell us,” Liz said, taking the letters out of her pocket. “Tell us, and you’ll get your precious letters. Nothing will be able to hurt you anymore.”

Jesse glared at her. “The King is destroying our country. He’s emptying our coffers, ending taxes, bleeding us dry. We’re at war, you of all people should know that. We can’t win a war without money. I ordered his death because I alone will face the truths that no one else can stomach.”

Liz paused. “And the old King?”

“A youthful mistake,” Jesse shrugged. “Once we got past our differences, he was amenable to work with me. Just like Noah will be.”

“Well, wasn’t that an enlightening conversation,” a voice boomed out behind their backs.

Jesse turned around in shock as Alex walked in from behind the organ. “Hello, Father.”

“You’re dead,” Jesse hissed, eyes widening almost comically.

“Am I really? It seems that I’m a better player than you give me credit for,” Alex said, putting an arm around Michael’s waist. “You should choose your pieces better.”

*

En passant

Ten years ago

Alex stopped humming and jumped to his feet as he heard a horse neigh in the distance. His own horse was placid beside the stream, munching on a clump of herbs, but he perked up as well. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then Alex heard a gallop and a frightened horse passed him at high speed, jumping over the little stream without slowing down.

“Come back!” a voice called.

Alex took a few steps away from the cover of the trees and spotted a young man running toward where the horse had gone, limping slightly. His breeches were covered in mud, like he’d fallen off the horse. His outfit was made of cheap linen and rough wool, the only leather a satchel across his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked when the boy reached him. He seemed to be about Alex’s age, with light curly hair framing his face. He was beautiful, in the unrefined way that commoner could be, all muscles from hard work and sun-tanned skin. Below your station, Jesse Manes’ voice echoed in Alex’s ears.

The boy stared at Alex for a moment, giving up on chasing his horse. “He’ll come back eventually,” he sighed. “I’m trying to train him, but he’s stubborn.”

“He’s yours?” Alex asked.

“No, he belongs to the Valenti estate. I’m just helping train him.”

The Valentis were the owners of the land bordering the Manes’ estate. Alex mostly knew their son Kyle, who was his age, though they’d had a falling out and no longer spent time together. Kyle’s parents spent most of the year in the capital, since his father was the Commander of the King’s Musketeers. Alex and Kyle had dreamed of becoming Musketeers themselves as children, though now that Alex was preparing to enlist in the Army next year, that dream seemed far away.

“I’m Alex,” he said, because it seemed only polite to introduce himself. He’d never been allowed to interact much with the inhabitants of the town besides the ones that served his family.

“Lord Manes’ youngest son, I know,” the other boy said, irreverently, his face almost daring Alex to react. “I’m Michael.”

Alex hitched to put him back in his place, but he stopped himself. It was clearly what Michael wanted, so he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Only got here two months ago,” Michael drawled, with a hint of a northern accent. “I’m an orphan. I’ve lived in lots of places. You satisfied?”

Alex shrugged, still not rising to the provocation. “Where do you live now?”

“Here and there,” Michael ducked his head, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “In barns, mostly. I try to pick up work wherever I can.”

Alex bit his lip. Michael’s bravado seemed to stem from not wanting to be put down by rough conditions, and he could admire that. “Can you tend a garden?” he asked.

Michael nodded.

“Our gardener’s old and almost blind, he could use some help. I can’t promise you money, but there’s a shed. It’s sturdy and it keeps warmth pretty well.” Alex knew that mostly because it was where he ran to, when his father was angry enough that staying in the house was dangerous.

“Why?” Michael asked. “What do you want from me?”

Alex shrugged. “Properly pruned rose bushes? People don’t always have an agenda.”

Michael stared at him doubtfully, but he nodded. “I have to go,” he muttered. “Need to find that damn horse before nightfall.”

Alex watched him jump over the stream and take off running and stared after him for a while. He wasn’t sure what to make of this encounter. Mr Sanders would be glad to have some help, especially if it was help he didn’t have to share his paycheck with, but Alex didn’t know what had possessed him to offer the job to a boy he’d just met.

There was something about Michael. Alex couldn’t quite figure out what, but he couldn’t get his face out of his mind, as he hopped onto his horse’s back and led him back to the stables.

He tended to his horse quickly and went to change, knowing that his father was waiting for him in his study for their daily game of chess. It was the only time in the day that they still interacted, as Alex avoided coming down for meals unless they had guests. Since Flint had left the previous year, life at home had been worse than ever, and Alex spent as much time as he could outside or locked in his quarters.

His father scowled at him in displeasure when Alex slid onto the chair waiting for him, and made his first move without a word. He always played the whites. He always won.

Alex dreamed of inverting the board, sometimes. The whites played first, and that gave them an advantage. Maybe with that, he could finally beat his father – finally make him proud.

“You’re hesitating again,” Jesse said, as Alex took a minute second to choose between taking a pawn and protecting his bishop. “You’re still not rigorous enough. There are no easy moves in chess. Whatever you do, there will be difficult consequences, sacrifices that you have to make. You can’t win without making hard decisions.”

Alex didn’t reply, and went with the risky move, that could give him checkmate in five if his father didn’t see it.

Jesse saw it. Of course he did. He played with little creativity, but a ruthlessness that was unmatched, and he had an eye for the combinations. He was always ten moves ahead. Alex couldn’t beat him.

He would beat him one day, he promised himself as Jesse waited for him to topple his king before he stood up and removed his belt. He would beat him, and he wouldn’t do it to make his father proud.

He would win, and his prize would be freedom.

*

Checkmate

Now

“How very cunning,” Jesse sneered at Alex. “You tricked me into making a full confession. And what use is your confession, uh? The word of a lowly Musketeer against the Prime Minister of Antar?”

“The King may not believe their words, Minister, but he will most certainly believe mine.”

Jesse Manes turned sharply at the new voice. Princess Isobel was as beautiful as ever, illuminated in the mysterious light of the church's stained glass windows. Her light green dress, an intricate work of lace and satin, almost appeared white, and so did her long blond hair, gathered above her head with jeweled pins. She didn’t smile as Jesse bowed to her, deeper than his status warranted. “Your Highness,” he said, backing away.

“General,” Isobel replied coldly, as Liz, Maria and Michael retreated out of the church discreetly, giving her the floor. “The King will hear about this. I am certain he will not have any choice but to dismiss you, and even if your status may spare you from standing trial, you’ll be exiled.”

Jesse backed away a few more steps. “Isobel,” he said, his tone condescending, switching out of formal address. Isobel’s face scrunched up in disgust. “You can’t do that. You know what will happen if you do.”

“I highly doubt that,” Isobel answered. She stepped aside, and Rosa came out of the shadows behind her.

Isobel was incredibly good at this, Alex reflected. She waited until Rosa was at her shoulder and bowed her head to her, in a clear sign of her affection.

“Yes, Father,” Alex said. “I took the liberty to have Rosa escorted back to Antar. It turns out that the King was more than happy to pardon his favorite Musketeer’s sister, once the Princess made her case. And now, I have multiple witnesses who heard you confess to your plot to kill the King himself.”

He was still tense, watching his father's every move with his hand on his sword, but jubilation at this tableau is catching up to him. They had him. Their impossible plan had worked, and his father would never hurt anyone again.

Jesse looked scared now, looking around him for support that wouldn’t come as Alex advanced on him. Alex didn’t bother to hide his limp.

“Your blinders are what defeated you, father. You think I'm weak, because I love men. You thought Isobel was easier to manipulate than Max because she's a woman. You were wrong.”

Instead of stopping in front of his father to face him, he kept walking, until Jesse had to step aside to let him pass. “I believe this is checkmate, father,” he said in a low voice, meant to be heard by him only.

*

His friends were waiting for him behind the church. Alex led Rosa out, signaling his men to escort his father and the Princess back to the palace. Jesse Manes was done. He might not go to jail, but as soon as Isobel told the King, he would lose his job and his standing, and probably his title and estate.

Alex knees felt weak with relief, as he walked back to the garrison. Commander Valenti was standing with Kyle by the door to her office, and Alex simply nodded at them. It’s done. Kyle whooped in joy while his mother simply smiled.

Alex turned back to his best friends.

“So we’re four again?” Liz asked, watching Rosa with hesitation in her eyes, a fear impossible to put into words.

“I don’t know if I can get my commission back, but I’ll never stop being a Musketeer,” Rosa said with tears in her eyes. She held out a hand to her sister. “One for all,” she murmured.

Liz grabbed her hand, and Alex and Maria joined in, adding their hands on top. “All for one,” they said together. They fell into a group hug, relieved tears mixing with smiles.

Alex saw Michael standing at the gates out of the corner of his eye, leaning against one of the posts and watching them.

“Go to him,” Liz told him quietly. “You’ve waited for this for so long.”

Alex straightened his clothes. “I have something to do first,” he murmured. He unclasped the chain from his neck and took off the golden ring. Taking a deep breath, he slid it onto his finger.

He swallowed back a sob, looking at his hand.

“Does that mean we have a wedding to plan?” Rosa asked with a smirk.

“Soon,” Alex promised.

He didn’t look back as he joined Michael at the gates, and linked their hands together.

“It’s done.” He smiled softly at Michael, who didn’t speak. “We’re free.”

--

You can read the first two parts of the series for a more detailed account of Alex and Michael's duel and its aftermath (though keep in mind that they were written over a year ago, before season 2, and I've changed a few things to the plot of this AU since, most notably my plans for Maribel). I hope you liked this! And remember to go look at Slynella's amazing illustrations for this fic and give her all the love!

[s-v-caine]

The Parallax Doctrine: Chapter I

Summary: The Enterprise crew is charged with the difficult task of preventing all out war between the Federation and the Cardassian Union. On their harrowing journey, they are faced with challenges that will change their views of humanity forever: as Data develops emotions, fall in love, and is irrevocably changed by these events.

Pairings: Data x OFC (original female character), Riker x Deanna, Past Data x Jenna D’Sora

Rating: R to NC-17. Chapters with NC-17 will be properly tagged.

Chapter One: The Discovery  

-The U.S.S. Enterprise-

Captain Jean-Luc Picard rarely, if ever, failed a diplomatic mission. His impeccable sense of duty and statesmanship could be rivaled by no other in the Federation. His crew, in all their skills and dedication, were the epitome of Starfleet’s gold standard. Everything pointed to the fact that the mission would be a success, like the numerous amounts of diplomatic missions before that. However, the Cardassians, as known as they were for their warmongering, were even more well known for their duplicitous ways. Admiral Nechayev had been understanding during their debrief call that morning, assuring Picard that it was through no fault of his own that diplomacy failed between the Federation and the Cardassian Union. In fact, according to the Admiral, the Cardassian ambassadors were commanded by Union leaders to throw diplomacy out the door and create as much of a diplomatic incidence as possible in order to have another excuse to mobilize towards war. Picard had just wished that he could have found a way around this unavoidable tragedy.

Now, in a bid to mitigate said war, the U.S.S Enterprise had no other choice than to rush at warp 9 to the distant star system on the outer rims called Ex Admirari in order to locate and successfully retrieve Doctor Ophelie Le Flore. 

Captain Picard could feel the simmering signs of a stress headache coming on, the pressure low at the temple. He rubbed the side of his left head with his hand in soothing circles. No doubt Doctor Crusher and Counselor Troi would be visiting his ready room before they left warp to voice their concerns regarding this new mission. After all, the lives of millions depended on its success; and with the onset of already failed diplomacy, this did not bode well for an auspicious beginning. Regardless, as captain, Picard felt he must hold steady in the orders dictated by the admiralty. They were to locate Doctor Le Flore and entreat her to come with them. If she refused, they were to use whatever means necessary to ensure she was safely aboard the Enterprise, regardless of whether she consented.

The door to his ready room chimed and Picard looked up from his ministration to bark a short, “Come.” Lieutenant Commander Data entered briskly followed by Commander William Riker. They both stood at the ready with their hands behind their backs, awaiting Picard’s permission to speak. “What have you to report, Mr. Data?”

“Sir, at 0700 hours, Lieutenant La Forge and I conducted our routine maintenance of the warp coils to ensure that our current velocity will have no negative impact upon the engines. We discovered that the coils remain stable. However, the plasma conduits are not made to sustain such a speed for this length of time. I suggest that alpha to delta shift continue to check the plasma conduits every hour and change out conduits before they burn out and cause a cascade failure.”

“Make it so, Mr. Data,” Picard stated with a hand wave. Data nodded in acknowledgement before departing the room. Commander Riker watched as Data left before turning to the captain, “Captain, Deanna has some reservations about the ethical nature of what we’ve been ordered to do,” Riker stated with hesitance. Picard sighed, not bothering to hide his exhaustion from his first officer. Will was a great first officer, and loyal to a fault, but occasionally, his sensitivity to the fairer sex often led him down troubled paths. Picard could forgive that in a man, after all, what was life if not to pursue that which beguiled and pleasured one’s senses.

“Will, I understand Deanna does not like the idea of potentially having to kidnap one of the most renowned scientists in the Federation, but Doctor Le Flore has been known to be a bit of a wild card. She is not easy to deal with. And if Doctor Le Flore decides she will not come with us, there will be no way to change her mind. As such, we must, unfortunately, consider using force to take her with us, for her own safety, of course.”

“I understand that, sir, and to a degree, Deanna does as well. But to decide on a course that is so… extreme, is that really necessary?” Riker’s face twisted into an uncomfortable grimace as he uttered the word ‘extreme’. As a man of incredible integrity, and also one who championed the rights of women, he was rather uncomfortable with making a woman do anything against her will, even if her life was on the line. 

“Will, what do you know about Doctor Le Flore?” Picard asked as he leaned back into his chair, his hands clasped formally in front of his chest. 

“I know that she is a brilliant anthropologist and archaeologists. I read the Stellae Et Terre article about her discovery of the mass relays and her hypothesis of their functions in interstellar travel amongst the lost Euclidean societies. But other than her works, I know next to nothing about her.” Riker pursed his lips thoughtfully after the last statement, as if to wonder why there was nothing known about the doctor.

“Precisely. You know nothing about her. I know nothing about her. In fact, how she has managed to keep her face and personal identity unknown to nearly everyone in the last decade is a marvel in our current age of lightspeed information. The good doctor has been elusive for as long as the scientific community can remember. It does help her case that she is often in remote areas of the galaxy. Regardless, we need to consider that she does not want to be found and will be difficult upon being found,” Picard said with finality, laying the matter to rest. 

Riker nodded in acknowledgement, a feeling of disquiet coming over him. The situation had devolved so rapidly within the last 48 hours. He did not envy the captain in having to carry out these orders, but as the captain had noted, the doctor will no doubt be another problematic layer to this already horrendous situation. ‘What an absolute mess,' Riker wondered distantly as he left the captain’s ready room.

 -Abraxas IV – The Lys Subcontinent-

The jungles of the Lys Subcontinent were not so dissimilar from those on Earth, particularly in the Amazon regions. The jungles of Lys, however, had a distinctly ancient feeling to them, with trees towering over 900 meters tall. As Commander Riker hacked his way through the thick underbrush of the jungle, his thoughts drifted back to Deanna, who was bringing up the rear of the away team. Since entering the Ex Admirari star system, Deanna had become withdrawn and quiet. The closer they got to Abraxas IV, the more closed off she had seemed. She had secluded herself from the rest of the crew up until the moment they had to step onto the transporter pad to beam down to the planet. Will was concerned to say the least. He had no way of confirming, but it had something to do with the planet. Another matter that niggled at him was the fact that, for a massive jungle this size, there were absolutely no sounds of animals or insects or birds at all within this jungle. Aside from the sharp thuds of the carbonite machete hitting the foliage, the jungle was silent. It unnerved him. This was not natural in any sense.

The away team for this mission included Will, Data, Worf, Deanna, and the captain. The captain rarely went on landing missions, but his presence was necessitated by the dire circumstance in which they found themselves. If they could locate the doctor, the captain would be the best bet at convincing her to leave with them. Will felt unease as they moved slowly but surely further and further into the heart of the jungle. The jungle did not feel inhospitable, but it did not feel welcoming either. There was a sense that they were being watched, yet Will did not know what could be observing them. He felt a sense of protectiveness wash over him and hesitated, wishing he could turn around and check on Deanna’s progress, but the captain had ordered him at the front to lead, and he would be remiss in his duties if he did not obey his captain.

They continued onwards for another 10 kilometers in silence, all on edge and alert to any sounds or changes in their surroundings. As they moved further into the jungle the feeling of being watched intensified. Data, under normal circumstances, would never notice such a subtle shift in the atmosphere; however, even he was wholly aware of the tension rolling off the away team. In his observation, Data had noted that Commander Riker paused every 2.579 minutes to take stock of the situation, much more careful in his proceedings than in any other landing mission Data had been on with the commander. In addition, Lieutenant Worf, while his usual taciturn self, was acting much more wary, like an animal afraid of stepping into a trap. Data had never seen Worf act this way. Jumpy would be the colloquialism Geordi would use here, if he were here, Data mused. Data wondered if Geordi had figured out a way to reconfigure the dilithium regulator to maximize the crystal outputs. Data suspected that the interface between the crystal chambers was the main issue, but more analysis and tests were required, which he would attend to once they got back to the ship.

As they emerged from a particularly thick growth of foliage, Commander Riker came to a dead stop, causing Data to slam his android body directly into Riker with some force. Worf who had been surreptitiously looking about, had not noticed the abrupt stop, and came crashing into Data as well. The captain, thankfully, was more alert, and stopped short of Worf, a sigh on his lips as he watched his command team untangle themselves from each other. Deanna, bringing up the rear, and being significantly shorter than the men, did not know what they had stopped for, but as she moved around them, she let out an audible gasp.

Before Deanna was the most wondrous thing she had ever beheld in her life, and as the counselor on the Federation flagship, she had seen many wonders before. The gargantuan pyramid was taller than all the trees in the jungle by more than 300 meters. It looked to be constructed of entirely a diamond-like material. The translucent nature of the pyramid made it so that light refracted from it in odd ways, and the rainbow prism of light emitting from it hit the eyes in a hypnotic manner. While the other side of the pyramid and its interiority were not visible, it felt as if the pyramid could disappear at any moment, with just the right step into a certain direction under certain sunlight. The landing party was stunned by the massive structure, sitting in the middle of this ancient and dense jungle. Who could have constructed such a wonder, they all thought? Which ancient and advanced civilization created this as a testament to their engineering prowess?

The captain was the first to speak up, “On my word, I have never seen such a thing. I wonder if this was how Burckhardt felt rediscovering the ancient city of Petra,” he whispered under his breath, awe in every syllable. “Oh, I imagine Burckhardt was most likely just relieved that he was not going to die in an endless desert,” a voice responded from up top. Captain Picard whipped his head around and craned his neck to the sky, there in the treetop was a woman, in her mid-30s. She was dressed in a loose button-down white blouse, with a brown leather harness strapped over the shirt. Hanging within the harness were various digging tools, a phaser, a machete, and attached to her back were two asymmetrical swords: one long and one short. Her brown cargo slacks were practical with numerous pockets, as were the knee-high boots she had on over the trousers. She sat with her back against the massive trunk of the tree, and one leg dangling from the branch she was perched on. She gave the landing party a scrutinizing stare with her emerald, green eyes; it unnerved them in the same way the jungle made them feel watched. “I dare say, similar to Burckhardt, who should not have been where he was, you should not be here either,” the woman said in a low, clear tone of voice. 

The captain, in a bid for tact, cleared his throat, “Miss, might I inquire, what is your name?” A sly smile grew on the woman’s face. She seemed amused by the notion of anyone wanting to know her name. Considering what the captain had asked, she stood up from her position with a litheness that reminded them of a mischievous cat. Abruptly, before anyone could even react, she grabbed hold of a rope to the side of the massive tree and slid down with agility and quick grace. Before the landing party’s eyes she stood, hand on her hip and a look of consideration passing through her eyes. “Why would Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise need to know my name?” she replied. As she stated this, a whisp of platinum silver hair escaped from her ponytail, which she blew impatiently out of her face in annoyance, an idiosyncratic tic that Data noted with curiosity. In Data’s opinion, it somehow contravened with the elegance in which she had moved previously. Most curious indeed.

The captain suppressed an exasperated grimace and turned the thin lines of his mouth into a smile, “Are you by chance Doctor Ophelie Le Flore?” the captain persisted in his question. The woman smiled, this time a wry beneficence made its way into her expression, “Yes, I am Doctor Ophelie Le Flore. And now that I have answered your query, might you answer mine: what are you doing here, Captain?”

“Doctor, if I may suggest, there is a lot for us to discuss, and I would prefer to do so somewhere more comfortable? Perhaps we can do this aboard the Enterprise?” The captain’s inquiry was met with a barking laughter. The doctor, with mirth in her eyes, shook her head, “No, captain, I shall not be boarding the Enterprise with you. I have matters to attend to here. If you want to tell me why you’re here, you’re welcome to do so right where we are standing.” Commander Riker could not help but admire the loquacious nature with which the doctor easily denied the captain’s request, his blue eyes widening and looking downwards to avoid bursting out in laughter at his poor captain’s frustration.

Picard summoned the strength of his diplomatic dexterity: “Doctor, I will be candid with you then. At this very moment, in the Cardassia star system, on the M-Class planet Lamemda, the Cardassian government is undergoing an immense archeological dig. Starfleet intelligence has confirmed the Cardassian government believe they have located the Arak-Rah and that the Cardassian government, once they have figured out how to activate this ancient weapon, will proceed to go to war with the Federation.” The doctor narrowed her eyes at Picard, she did not seem skeptical of his claim, but rather something else. “The Cardassians couldn’t find a black hole even if it collided with their fleet, let alone the legendarily lost artifact Arak-Rah,” the doctor said with a drawl of derision. 

Picard sighed, “Unfortunately for us, this time they have managed to locate such a thing.”

“The Hebestes civilization went extinct over 30,000 years ago, captain.” The doctor noted before continuing, “When they fell, their entire civilization was swallowed by a cataclysmic event that buried everything with them. The only reason we do not consider them to be a legend, like Atlantis on your Earth, is that there have been recorded histories of their civilization from other ancient civilizations scattered across the Cardassia star system. You’re telling me that the Cardassians somehow managed to stop their dick-swinging, warmongering ways long enough to actually undertake an exploratory mission that would otherwise take decades to complete?” Picard nodded his head curtly at this and the doctor closed her eyes slowly before taking a deep breath and uttering under it, “Fucking Cardassians…” 

“Indeed,” the captain responded to the doctor’s expletive. The doctor cocked her head at the captain. “Well, I hate to hear such news, but I don’t see how this has anything to do with me,” she said as she moved to walk around the landing party. “Doctor, please,” the captain began, “the Cardassian government, once they have finished with their dig will be on their way to intercept you. You are the only person in this sector of the quadrant who have any possible knowledge of how to activate this weapon, and they will come for you.”

The doctor paused to consider this and shrugged her shoulders before moving to walk around them yet again. The captain reached out to grab her arm this time, the intensity in his eyes bore into her. “Doctor, you must come with us.”

“Or what…?”  the doctor whispered challengingly to Picard.

“Or you will be captured, tortured, and possibly killed,” the captain said with a seriousness that chilled even Riker. The doctor and the captain stared at one another in a standoff of tense silence. The jungle around them was still, an eerie quietness descended upon the group standing by the pyramid’s base.

Finally, the doctor spoke, “Captain, I will go with you, but first I need to finish what I am doing here. Will you allow that? Or will you forcibly take me along?”

Picard was conflicted, on the one hand, knowing that the Cardassians could be on their way any day now if they got wind of the fact that Starfleet had gotten to the doctor first, but on the other hand, the scientist and archeologist in him was curious about what the doctor’s mission entailed here. “How long will it take you to complete your work here?” Picard asked. 

The doctor smiled at this, “No more than 48 hours.”

Picard closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then nodded his assent. “Wonderful!” The doctor exclaimed and jauntily extracted her arm from the captain’s grasp before marching over to the pyramid. “We will be going with you,” the authority in the captain’s voice was clear. The doctor stopped mid-stride, her arms swinging akimbo, as she turned her body around to look at the captain with eyes narrowed in annoyance and incredulity. “You’ll slow me down,” she stated.

“We will go with you,” the captain stated again, slowly enunciating each word. The doctor seemingly chose not to protest further, merely turned around, and continued to the pyramid in front of them.

Data looked back and forth between the captain and doctor; his curiosity piqued. He had never seen anyone behave in such a manner towards the captain before. He would archive this moment for further behavioral analysis later on. As Data walked up to the doctor, he noted she was crouched at the base of the pyramid. Her hands moved in a flurry, tapping certain squares of the pyramid. Data cocked his head in interest, “Fascinating,” he murmured softly, “the keys to opening this pyramid is a puzzle, and one it seems, shares a basis similar to the mathematical principles of the Pythagorean Theorem.”

The doctor looked over her shoulder and grinned at him, “You’re Doctor Soong’s android.” She stated what was the obvious to Data, but he was used to this prosaic observation. Data bent closer to watch as she continued to rapidly tap at the squares in an asynchronous manner. “How did you figure out the base code for this puzzle, if you do not mind my asking,” Data inquired. “Like most puzzles, you need to figure out what the key is first. I was inadvertently given the key by a Ferengi trader who thought it was just a nonsense children’s rhyme,” the doctor replied without pause to what she was doing.  As she tapped the last of the sequence, the top of the pyramid shifted, creating a plate that reflected the sunlight into a beam. The beam created a tall column of light that then bent itself outwards, activating the plates hidden within the jungle. Before anyone could even react, both Data and the doctor were swallowed up in the light and disappeared. The remaining members of the away team gaped at where they once stood.

The darkness was impenetrable, but Data’s eyes had no difficulties in ascertaining the locality or their position in regard to their location. “Data to the away team, come in away team,” Data tapped the comm badge. No response came. Data glanced downward and saw that Doctor Le Flore was slumped to the ground. She appeared unharmed but unconscious. She groaned slightly and slowly blinked her eyes, adjusting the darkness around them. “Doctor, are you hurt?” Data inquired gently. The doctor blinked a few times, before slowly pulling herself up, Data reached out to assist her. She leaned into his arms slightly as she wobbled upwards onto her feet. “I don’t believe I am concussed,” she murmured, “just slightly disoriented.”

Data nodded his head. The doctor rummaged around in her pants pocket for a moment, and finally brought out three orbs. She released the orbs from her hand, and they floated upwards. They slowly started to brighten, and a glow of light emanated from them. The doctor turned to Data. “Ready?” she asked him, then she took the first intrepid step forward. He followed behind her at a steady pace. “Doctor, what are we looking for precisely?” Data asked as the doctor walked briskly ahead, her orbs of light floating around her, illuminating the way. “Mr. Data,” the doctor began, “do you mind if I call you that,” she inquired, and he nodded in acquiescence, “have you heard of the Bolonelov tribe?”

“I have not, doctor,” Data admitted, “I am not familiar with the obscure tribes of the outer rim.” The doctor nodded thoughtfully, before stopping to scan the hieroglyphs inscribed onto the diamond-like walls. She tapped on the bracelet around her left arm and a blue, HOLO interface appeared before her. She started tapping away on it while examining the hieroglyphs, taking careful notes of what was in front of her. When she finished, she turned around and looked him in the eyes. “There is a legend passed down to the Banarans, who colonized the neighboring star system some 10,000 years ago, that this was their point of origin. The Banarans have a very colorful history of oral folktales that is still implemented to this day in the form of children’s songs and rhymes. One of the more obscure songs, that is no longer in fashion among the children, is the Song Of Zarathustra. It tells of a tale about the Bolonelov tribe and how they lived in the jungle alongside the Godking. They worshipped the Godking and lived in peace and harmony with this creature. As a way to show their gratitude and appreciation, they constructed a great pyramid in its honor, so that it may rest itself within it. The material they used was a rare diamondite that came from deep within the planet. They eventually mined so much diamondite that they reached the core, where they found an orb that was so perfect and pure, it could only have been formed by the heat of the core. But once they removed the orb and placed it within the pyramid of the Godking, great disaster befell them. The song ends with the Banarans’ ancestors fleeing this planet and star system in order to avoid an extinction level event.”

“Fascinating tale, Doctor,” Data said as he contemplated the information she had just imparted. “Are we to locate this orb then?” Data inquired. A smile grew on the doctor’s face, it caused her large eyes to crinkle into an almond shape and a twinkle to form in her eyes from the light hovering above and around them. 

“If I may ask, without injury to your knowledge in this field, how do you know that this is not merely legend?” Data continued. 

The doctor paused a moment to consider Data’s questions. She did not look offended but merely pensive. “I have collected sufficient data from various source materials over the years to conclude that this is not a legend. Also, the Bolonoelov tribe that still lives in the jungle has confirmed for me that the orb exists,” she stated simply before turning to walk ahead again. 

Data paused, tilted his head to the right in contemplation, and began walking again behind the doctor. “Your statement is one of profound discovery, doctor. That means that this lost tribe is not lost at all.”

“How very trite of us to believe that peoples and cultures can be lost and found simply because our imperialistic eye is not focused on them at a given moment,” the doctor retorted before stopping in front of another section of hieroglyphs and examining those as well. 

“Please elucidate further, doctor,” Data entreated.

“Mr. Data, most of archaeology and anthropology was built upon the binary belief that there are predominant cultures and there are lost cultures. When spacefaring became accessible to the bipedal species, it opened the philosophical discussion of rights, who has what rights and who gets said rights. To declare that something is lost and was then found, is the privilege of the imperialistic explorer. I am no such explorer, nor do I believe in such a notion. These people were not lost, they have existed here all this time, as is their right. We are merely visitors, and we should be grateful to their hospitality in allowing us to visit.” The doctor finished her work and turned to Data once more, a curious look on her face. “Tell me, Mr. Data, in all your years of journey aboard the Federation’s flagship, reaching the corners of places never seen before, what have you concluded about the nature of existence in the known galaxy?”

Data was perplexed by the scope of the question. He had collected innumerable amounts of information regarding life and existence, but he had never been able to synthesize a concise answer to that kind of quandary before. “I have no succinct answer to give you, doctor,” Data replied. The doctor seemed endeared to this, and she reached out to pat him on the shoulder.

This puzzled him further as he saw no need for such an action. If he had to hazard a guess, it could be determined that the doctor felt some sense of kinship in this answer and was attempting to comfort him in his inability to articulate a reply. The doctor was indeed a puzzling person. “Well, if you ask me,” the doctor said with a small smile, “life is a very underrated phenomenon in that it persists with or without conscious knowledge of it. One does not need to perceive a life for that life to exist. That’s the beauty of discovery. It is happenstance combined with all knowledge before it to create all knowledge that comes after it. And one day, that knowledge can disappear as easily as it was known, but that doesn’t erase it from having existed.”

Data had studied the great poets of the galaxy in his quest to understand the art form. As he listened to the doctor, he determined an underlying sense of poetic beauty in what she had said. The conviction of her belief was as steady as her heartbeat and the unwavering look in her eyes was hypnotic under the glow of the lights floating around them. He broke the gaze they held and glanced at the diamondite walls. “Doctor, I believe this is another clue to aid us in our quest,” Data pointed to a section of the wall at the bottom.

The doctor glanced at where he pointed, “Well done, Mr. Data!” she exclaimed softly. She continued to mutter under her breath, “can’t believe I almost missed that.” She clucked her tongue in chastisement at herself as she crouched low. As Data observed the doctor in her work, he could not help but file away in his memory banks all the peculiar things he noted about her, her manner of speaking, her beliefs, and the way she comported herself. “Well, Mr. Data, you certainly caught onto the linguistic structure of the hieroglyphs rather quickly,” the praise was said as the doctor stood up from her position. Data inclined his head in gratitude.

After that, they proceeded rather quickly, with the translation of the hieroglyphs split between the two of them. As the proceeded further into the pyramid, the work of translating fell into an unremitting beat, and they worked in silence and synchronicity. Data felt a further inclination to discuss with the doctor their previous topic, but the doctor had such a look of focus and intensity on her face, he did not want to interrupt.

The away team, left behind at the base of pyramid, was stunned to say the least. They had managed to lose the doctor within ten minutes of finding her, a historic new low. Picard tapped his comm, “Mr. Data come in. Data! Data, do you read me?” No answer came. They had lost complete communication with Data and the doctor. “Captain,” Deanna moved closer to whisper to Picard, “I have been attempting to follow the thread of these feelings that have been simmering in my mind since we entered this star system, and I have to let you know, these feelings are growing stronger than ever.” The urgency in Deanna’s voice alarmed Picard, but he remained calm. “Counselor, what is it you feel? Is it hostility?” he asked quietly. She shook her head, “No, not hostility. Curiosity. Melancholy. Apprehension.”

“Captain, I don’t mean to interrupt…” Commander Riker started saying. Picard looked away from Deanna and towards Will. He was looking up at the tree line and Picard followed his gaze. To Picard’s complete astonishment, there in the tree line, he could make out many peoples. Some crouched behind the foliage, others bravely standing on the edge of the massive branches. They all seemed curious about the away team, but they had no visible weapons, and did not emanate any violent intent. “Counselor, I believe we might have found the source of those feelings you have been experiencing,” Picard stated steadily.

 On the 11th hour of their exploration of the tomb, they reached the final chamber, or so indicated by their translation of the last hieroglyphs. Rather than proceeding forward with no hesitation as she had done previously, the doctor stood still and then crouched to the floor. She placed her right hand on her cheek and starred at the closed doors in contemplation. Data observed her silence for 5.1762 minutes before speaking up: “Doctor, is there a problem?”

“I like these moments,” she replied quietly. “The moments before you open the door to something and is irrevocably changed by what is beyond those doors. We will never get this moment back, you know. Once we open those doors and learn what we learn, we will be forever changed by it. This person you and I are, right now, they will be memories.” Data heard in her voice a wistfulness. For what, he did not know, but there was a sadness there, too. Doctor Le Flore stood up and stretched in her curious catlike manner. It reminded Data of Spot. She leaned forward and touched her toes before straightening up and turning to him, “All right, onwards, shall we?” Her grin had an infectious quality to it, and if he were human, Data mused, he would feel compelled to grin back at her. They proceeded to decode the door together, and as the door opened, he turned to watch her reaction instead of what lied beyond the opening door.

The look of wonder started small, and then it bloomed onto her face. Her lips opened in a gasp, and she exhaled a small breath. It almost startled him when she turned to look excitedly at him, her eyes making contact with his. “Come on, then!” She jumped forward in an almost skip, and again Data filed this away as another idiosyncratic tic that did not quite align with her perceived persona. 

The diamondite orb floated inside a column of white, luminous light. Data attempted to ascertain where the light source was coming from, but there was no shaft from which the light could have entered the pyramid. Around the orb and the light column was a ledge that circled the room, however a gap existed between the ledge and the shaft of light. Data peered down into the gap, but the distance was so deep even his advanced eyesight could not determine the bottom of the drop. The doctor did not seem concerned with this impediment. She moved along the wall with her hands touching the cool surface in a rhythmic pattern. It dawned upon Data that this was another puzzle.  

He watched as she quickly and efficiently solved the puzzle. Before she finished pressing the last sequence, she turned to him. “I need a favor from you,” she started, “within a second of completing the sequence and solving this puzzle, that protective barrier will disappear, and the orb will start to fall. I need you to jump across from this ledge to the other side and grab that orb before it falls.” Data nodded his head in understanding and moved to stand directly in front of the orb. He glanced at the doctor and indicated he was ready. She proceeded swiftly, solving the puzzle, which then released the orb. His eyes ascertained that he had a gap of 10.5 seconds before the orb fell well below the 1.68 decimeter of possible acquisition—anything below those thresholds meant an increase in the margin of error. He leapt forward as the orb started to fall, and with his superior speed and agility, landed gracefully on the other side with the orb tucked safely in his right arm. Turning around he smiled broadly (mimicking the expression he had seen) at the doctor in celebration of their success.

She walked over to him with a happy pep in her step and patted his shoulder in congratulations. “Thank you, sir, your services have been invaluable,” she said breathlessly while taking possession of the orb and holding it up for examination. “Doctor, I am a bit puzzled as to how you would have attained the orb had you embarked upon this venture on your own?” Data could not help but question the logistics of solving the final puzzle without his help. The doctor smiled indulgently at the question, “Why, Mr. Data, with these little guys of course,” she replied calling the floating lights towards her; where she indicated, the lights would gently tap against the surface. “I see… you would have retrieved the orb while simultaneously solving the puzzle. I must note, doctor, the margin of error, had you undertaken this course of action, would have been too great for success,” Data noted gravely. The doctor laughed lightly at this, the mellifluous sound of her laughter echoing off the diamondite wall and surrounding them.

“Perhaps. But what is an adventure without the potential risk of failure,” she stated with a shrug as she walked cheerily away with the orb. She was a perplexing person indeed, he thought, with his brow furrowed.

-The U.S.S. Enterprise-

Geordi was exhausted from the double shifts he had been pulling the last week in order to compensate for the strain they had put on the warp engine in their haste to retrieve Doctor Le Flore. Regardless of his perpetual exhaustion, he had promised to meet Data in Ten Forward for some down time, as they’d no time for decompressing since coming back from Abraxas IV. When the away team returned from their adventure, everyone had looked haggard to the bones. Of course, the exception being Data, who did not have a single hair out of place. It had been a week since their return with the doctor, and yet the mysterious doctor had not been seen by any crew members anywhere on the ship.

The rumor mill went into overdrive the moment Doctor Le Flore stepped foot off the transporter pad. There were whispers in the lower decks that she and Commander Data went on a harrowing adventure into an ancient tomb to return a precious artifact to a long-lost tribe, and thus restoring balance to Abraxas IV. Despite the gossip running rampant on the ship, the lack of presence from the doctor only fueled the curiosity of the crew, as many were not aware of what she looked like. Some ensigns, who were braver than others, would walk the deck where the doctor’s suite was located in an attempt to catch her out and about in the hallway, but to no avail.

Even Geordi had yet to catch glimpse of the doctor. As far as Geordi was aware, the only people who knew what the doctor looked like were the away team and Chief O’Brien, who had been on duty in the transporter room that day. As Geordi made his way into Ten Forward, he nodded hello to Guinan, and took a seat at a table to the far-left hand corner with a window view of the stars. Guinan came by with his usual order of an Indian Pale Ale synthehol that had a distinct closeness to the IPA he enjoyed on Earth. As he kicked up his feet and sat back to enjoy his drink, he noticed that a new person had entered Ten Forward, followed closely by Data. The slender woman had a charming smile, the kind that showed teeth and pushed her high cheekbones into happy, little red apples on her heart shaped face. Her long, platinum silver hair was held up in a loose manner by an intricate silver clip. She was wearing a cropped, black turtleneck tank top that hugged her torso with loose trousers that hung low on her hips in a relaxed manner. Next to her, Data was talking animatedly with his hands gesturing as he spoke. She seemed to be listening intently to whatever Data was expounding.

Geordi sat up and flagged Data down. He watched with intense fascination as Data gently tapped the woman on the arm and indicated to where Geordi was sitting. The woman seemed amenable to whatever it was Data suggested and followed him over. “Geordi, I would like to introduce you to Doctor Ophelie Le Flore,” Data said as they came to a stop at the table Geordi was seated at. “Hello, doctor,” Geordi said with a smile and a hand reaching out for a handshake. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant La Forge. Your friend has told me a lot about you,” Doctor Le Flore said with a smile and her hand out. As their hands clasped, Geordi could feel the calming grip of her hand enveloping his. He noted distantly that she had very small hands, but they were strong and solid. 

“Please, sit down, both of you,” Geordi gestured to the empty seats. They both took their seats opposite of him and turned to one another.

“I assure you, Data, Sherlock Holmes is not Earth’s most enduring cultural export,” the doctor stated without preamble. Geordi pursed his lips in surprise and amusement. This ought to be good, he thought, as he leaned forward to listen to Data’s response.

“Pray tell, doctor, what would be Earth’s primary cultural export, in your opinion then?”

“Why, hyper-sexuality, of course. And the sexualization of pop idols,” the doctor responded with an insouciant certainty. Data looked down, his mouth twisting downwards in consideration of the doctor’s opinion. As Data was about to give his rebuttal, a peal of giggles erupted nearby. Geordi, Data and the doctor shifted their gaze toward the bar area, where Commander Riker was chatting with a diplomat from Betazed. The diplomat was a pretty brunette with an impressively beautiful figure poured into a slinky, black dress that hugged her in all the right places. She leaned forward to whisper something into Riker’s ear and laughed coquettishly behind her hand.

Geordi let out a low whistle, “What I would give to get attention like that from a woman,” he said as he took a thoughtful sip from his drink. 

“I believe the scientific classification for the kind of man Commander Riker is, is pussy magnet,” the doctor declared wryly with mirth in her tone of voice. Geordi, who had been enjoying his brown ale synthehol, proceeded to spit the liquid out and dribble the remainder down his front at the doctor’s statement. Coughing slightly from the synthehol that went down the wrong pipe, Geordi nearly choked from the doctor’s comical observation. Data, on the other hand, was unsure how the Commander could possibly be attractive to cats and his confusion could be seen in the furrowing of his brows as he looked at the doctor with his head tilted in the manner that conveyed his perplexation. “Doctor,” Data began, “I am uncertain as to how Commander Riker’s interaction with the opposite sex can be translated into an attraction of the domestic specification for the species feles.” The doctor smiled patiently and leaned forward to whisper the clarification into his ear, Data’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline and his eyes widened in understanding of the doctor’s meaning. “I understand,” he murmured quietly as the doctor burst out with laughter at his grasp of her joke.

Guinan, sensing mischief, which was something she was always fond of, came sauntering over to the table with her hands on her hip. “And what can I get for you trouble-makers tonight, hm?” She inquired with a raised eyebrow, looking specifically at the doctor and Data. The doctor smiled neatly and held her hand out to Guinan, “Ophelie Le Flore, nice to meet you.” Guinan took the doctor’s hand warmly and gave it a firm shake. “Guinan. I tend the bar here, and I listen.”

“Guinan, tell me, how often do you listen to Commander Riker’s conversations with his lady companions?” The doctor asked with a smirk on her face. Guinan opened her mouth in faux, demurred shock. “Why, I would never do such a thing,” she whispered back scandalously. The doctor and Geordi chuckled at her response, whilst Data looked back and forth between the seated parties, his head jerking in curiosity at their statements. “Interesting…” Data murmured, “I believe you are all engaging in banter that would indicate some teasing element directed at Commander Riker.” The doctor laughed again, her laughter being quite infectious and affecting both Guinan and Geordi, who could not help but laugh with her. She tapped Data on the shoulder with her chin lightly and leaned forward to whisper into his ear, “Very astute, Mr. Holmes.”  

With that, the doctor stood up, and nodded her head at everyone. “I bid you all good night. This has been tremendously enjoyable, but I believe I need to slink back to my cave to do some work,” and with that she waved her hand and departed.

Data watched as she went, his eyes tracking her movement across the room and out the door. Geordi and Guinan exchanged knowing glances without further commentary. “Well, these next couple of months ought to be very interesting,” Geordi muttered under his breath as he took another sip of his drink.

[officialthiamlibrary]

Hi guys, welcome to our new weekly segment: Feature Friday. Once a week, we’ll be hyping up one of your favourite authors and recommending five of their fics, some old and some new, so that you can re-read all of your old favourite stories, or maybe even discover a new favourite! If you have someone you’d love to see in this segment, send us an ask here on Tumblr, or message one of our helpful mods on discord. 

Our featured author of the week is  @Ithinkwehaveanemergency, who has been on the Thiam scene since September 2017. She’s written an incredible 93 fics for the Teen Wolf fandom, 62 of them featuring our favourite chimera and beta. This author has created beautiful AU stories, several post-canon, and has a depth to her stories that reaches deep down and touches your very soul. Poetic in the way that she writes, she’s created wonderful stories that have angst, a little crack, fluff, pining, and smut. If we had more time we’d tell you about every story (especially her Pillars of Colonial Homes series which is an absolute MUST read) but for now we will share our top five!

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The Boy is Mine [ Teen // 2K // Complete ]

Thanks to Lacrosse Boosters coming up with the ridiculous idea to have a Bachelor Auction to raise money, Liam is up for sale. There's only one person he wants to bid on him, but he's just too stubborn to ask.

Or, listening to old school Brandy and Monica leads to adorable cliche one-shots.

This fic is HILARIOUS! Full of I-told-you-so moments from Mason (and other pack members) and biddings for a date with our favorite co-captain? You’ll laugh, you’ll gush over Theo, and you’ll roll your eyes at Liam. It’s a quick little oneshot that is worthy of lots of love, so go give it to the author!

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I'd like it if you made it to mine by Christmas Eve, so you can hold me. [ Teen // 7K // Complete ]

Several years after Theo leaves Beacon Hills without saying goodbye, Liam's car breaks down on the way home for the holidays and he ends up sleeping on Theo's couch.

It’s always a great story when you explore the future, especially after years of pining between characters and how the time has changed them. This story is about growth, loss, and finding your other half in the arms of another person. You’re going to love this!

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Lonely Vagabond [ Teen // 7K // Complete ] 

“Holy shit, dude.” Theo laughed, slowing down to stop at a red light. “You're that guy! From that boyband! Liam… Dunbar! That's it!”

“What gave it away?” Liam snapped, rolling his eyes in the mirror. “The screaming girls? Or are you a diehard fan too?”

“Hey.” Theo scolded, refusing to let the handsome, but seemingly bratty celebrity get to him. “Don't get snappy with me, Liam Dunbar. I just dropped everything to help you.”

“You're literally an uber driver.” Liam rolled his eyes again, his head lolling along with it this time as well.

“An off-duty uber driver.” Theo corrected. “Speaking of which, give me that $100. I don't feel bad taking all of it now that I know you're rich.” 

Or

The one where Liam is a lost musician in the streets of Berkeley, and Theo is the San Francisco uber driver who really needs to explain to Liam how uber works.

Angst. Drama. Quirky one-liners. A famous musician AU? What doesn’t this fic have for its readers? This story makes you laugh and cry and curse Theo and Liam for being such damn fools. But it ends on a hopeful note and you learn that love isn’t a straight line, it’s full of bumps along the way but that’s what makes it so worthwhile.

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Just a Day, Just an Ordinary Day [ General // 4K // Complete ]

A typical day in the life of Jenna Geyer, where nothing really happens. Just bonding with the newest member of her household and watching her son be an accidental trainwreck.

So, y'know... the usual.

Stories told from Jenna’s perspective are always a fascinating way to watch Liam and Theo’s relationship developing. In this fic, Liam absent-mindedly kisses Theo for the first time, in front of his mother, before immediately leaving the house. You’ll be charmed by the way Liam and Theo both freak out, while Jenna gossips with the pack and analyses their every move. If you enjoy funny and fluffy stories, then this should definitely be placed on your to-read pile immediately!

***

Wherever You Go Today [ Not Rated // 3K // Complete ]

The five times that a McCall Pack member hugs Theo and tells him they love him, and the one time Theo does it to one of them.

 Or, the all but mandatory 5 + 1 fic that nobody asked me to write for the Thiam fandom.

Inspired by listening to my Fleet Foxes Vinyl. I'm sure you can guess which song.

We at OTL definitely love a 5 + 1 story, and we know that all of our lovely followers are the same. What’s lovely about this fic is that it shows the pack and their journey towards accepting Theo as one of their own and showing him the affection that we all know our touched starved Theo craves. As you follow Theo on his path to redemption, you’ll beam at the sweet way he comes to realise his feelings for the beta. A must read for all fans of this pairing.

[monochromemedic]

Freezing Time

I watched my fingers drift and trail, time, slowing around me as Time Dilation took place. It was scary, how sometimes I couldn’t control time slowing down around me. Or well... how I perceived time. Being cryogenically frozen for years, who would have thought that it’d have these sort of side effects. That guy that got me out, said it was a gift. Maybe if I could control it more and wasn’t so damn afraid it would be but when it was like this? It terrified me. But even then I couldn’t be terrified, my body seemed to slow down as well.  Knowing how fast your heart should be but having no control of it.  I closed my eyes, biting my lip as I tightened my hand into a fist, trying to stop the sound of the world around me continuing to slow in a wane. No. This isn’t want I wanted. I wanted to go faster! I tried to breathe, feeling as if my lungs should be on fire, but instead it was completely fine. I felt a hand press against my shoulder, and suddenly I was thrown back into real time, sound suddenly blaring loud as I forced my eyes open. I gasped, whipping around to stare at Vicar Max, his brow furrowed. “All you alright? A bit too much caffeine in the system?”  I gave a small sigh, hand pressing against his chest as I wheezed, my body suddenly catching up with what I was feeling. “N...no it’s good. I... can you stay with me for a minute Vicar? I’m... I think I need some of that spiritual healing.”  I tried to joke, only to begin to breath even heavier. “By the Law are you alright? What’s the matter Captain?” the man sat down beside my, hand placed on my arm as he looked me over. “You know i’m not a medical man, perhaps Ellie would be better.” “No, no it’s just. I’m just having a moment is all. The stupid time... “ I trailed off, knowing that the Vicar was skeptical about my entire story. “It... um. Well it’s just a bad moment is all. I just need someone with me.” He seemed skeptical as usual but nodded his head, head dipping down as he spoke. “That I can do. I may not be the best Vicar in all of the Colony but if it’s worth something I can be there.” As he spoke however I noticed his words growing longer, every syllable starting to stretch out as the familiar chill began to form inside of me. My hand grabbed his robe,, fingers digging even though the well kept fabric. He must have seen the fear in my eyes, as he face changed of one of calmness, starting to shift to a worried glance. “Hit me.” I slurred, grabbing at him desperately “The time dilation, just knock me out!” He of course was more then a bit confused at the prospect of socking the hell of of a captain but even the long few seconds I started to see him reeling back a fist. “Oh fuck-” And I was hit, square in the jaw , causing me to go back into normal time. But with it was the pain of a pastor man sucker punching you in the chin. “Oh... damn I didn’t do it in a hit, my bad, i’m a bit out of touch! A...are you alright? You seem a bit more there now. Heh... maybe I should become the medical professional at this rate-” He stopped as I turned my head to spit out blood, shaking my head and looking back up at Maximillion. “Well... it worked I should give you that much. Not a one hit punch but maybe that’s good. God damn it...” I tried to sit up, feeling the world spinning around me and just going back to lay back down. “...Captain. Not to pry but you said it was ‘Time Dilation?’ Is that more of that nonsense about you being frozen in the Hope again?” He asked, walking into frame to stare down at me “Yeah. Just... more of ol’ Jenna’s nonsense.” He gave a small hum, eyes darting to the side before holding a hand out and lifting me up. “Well it’s seeming less and less like that the more I hang around this old ship. And what I saw in your eyes, that wasn’t fake. Even if i’m still not fully on board this... well to be honest, farfetched idea still, I know that somethings going on with you. And if you don’t want to see Ellie then it’s at least my duty to be there for you. If you want to stay with me for a little while then I wouldn’t be opposed.” I gave a tiny smile back at him, nodding my head as he lead me to his room to sit down as he began to read some of his banned books. “Thank you Max. It’s all I ask. Just... let me lay here for a bit, maybe eat something and i’ll be ok. You know me.” He gave a small hurumph, returning the same smile I gave him. “You are resilient. But not immortal. Don’t confuse the two.”

[iamknicole]

Familiar Face

SVU Fic

Finn knew that after the loss of her brother and the loss of Ed Tucker that Olivia wasn't in the best place. Yeah, he had been there for her as much as he could be but he and everyone else knew that he is not very comforting and does not claim to be. So to help her out, he put in a special call to a man he hadn't seen in years. Knowing his captain and friend well enough after all these years he gave the man the rundown of where he could find Olivia.

After he checked the first few places and came up empty so he went to the last place on the list.

"I knew I would find you here."

Olivia jumped hearing the voice. She didn't turn away from her brother's grave right away. She thought with all the death around her she was starting to hear things.

"You know ignoring me isn't going to make me go away."

Taking a deep breath, Olivia turned around her tears still falling. A sigh of relief escaped her as she quickly moved towards her ex-partner, Elliot Stabler. He welcomed her with open arms, when she stepped into his arms he cradled her head with his large hand. The two of them stood in front of her brother's grave in their embrace. He wouldn't pull away until he was sure that she was actually okay. The pair pulled away from each other and just stared at one another.

"Elliot, what are you doing here? Last I heard, you where in Florida."

He nodded giving her a small smile. "Yeah, I was there for a year or two. But I'm back now. "

“Back for good? Or back to visit?"

"How about we get out of here, go grab some food and I'll explain it to you"

Olivia took one last look at her brother's grave then took Elliot's arm, walking alongside him. They walked in silence together. Since Olivia didn't drive she got into her ex-partner's car. She stared out of the window as he drove feeling like old times when they were working together. There was that feeling of wanting to be mad at him but the last few times she's let her anger keep her from getting closure from the people she loved before it was too late. His phone rung a few times while they were in his car. One sounded like work, the other was more than likely his children.

Stabler pulled in front of a diner the two of them used to go to on the rare occasions that they had a break. He jogged around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. Once they were inside the diner, he guided her to their usual booth. A waitress came as soon as they sat down to take their orders.

"So, a son?"

Olivia nodded a proud smile on her face. "Yes, his name is Noah. He's 10 going on 20."

Elliot smiled back at her, glad to see the light in her eyes again. "Yeah? I told you that you would be a good mom. I wasn't wrong."

"It has not been easy but I am so happy to have him. So how are the kids? "

"They're good. Kathleen just got married, Dicky is engaged and stationed in California, Maureen and her husband are on child number two, the twins are almost done with college and Eli is a sophomore in highschool."

Olivia laughed a little, "Wow. I really don't know how you've been able to keep up, its hard enough keeping up with one let alone six but I'm glad they're all good."

"Yeah, they'll be in town in a few weeks to see the new place and all. You and Noah should come by and see it too. But sooner than a few weeks."

"And we will. So what's the big news? What brings you back up here?"

Stabler waited until the waitress sat their drinks and food on the table to answer her. "Well, I got a call a few months ago that the captain in Manhattan Violent Crimes is retiring, he asked for me specifically to replace him."

"I thought you had retired down in Florida?"

Stabler nodded, "Yeah, I was but I couldn't pass up the chance to come back home."

"How does Cathy feel about moving back?" Olivia asked after taking a sip of her tea.

He shrugged, "She wasn't exactly asked. This was my choice alone."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means that I came back here and was in Florida the last year and a half alone. Cathy and I divorced a while ago. "

Olivia gasped, "What? What happoned?"

"She decided that there was a lot that she hadn't done yet and she wanted to live her life. Said she couldn't do that if she was married. Who was I to stand in her way?"

Olivia frowned. Never did she think Elliot would get a divorce, between his religion and his stubbornness she always figured that there was no way.

"I'm sorry, Elliot. Where's she now?"

"She moved to Connecticut with Eli. He's happy so that's all that matters."

"What about you? Are you happy?"

Elliot chewed his food up before answering her. "You know what? I actually am. Happiest I've been in years. After the divorce, I took inventory of my life and what I'd sacrificed and put on hold for Cathy. I agreed with her, we both needed to lead our own lives. I never wanted to retire after that shooting in the precinct."

"Then why did you? You just up and left without a word to me."

Olivia was glad he opened that door so she wouldn't have to. He gave her a reason to ask.

"Because its what Cathy wanted. She got tired of it, of my career. Me having to shoot Jenna was the last straw for her," he shrugged, "I was just planning on doing therapy and taking a month or two off but she decided otherwise."

"You could've said something." Olivia said doubling down on her words.

"I couldn't have. If I would've told you then I would've changed my mind and Cathy would've been pissed."

Olivia shook her head, "No, I wouldn't have, Elliot. I was your partner, I've always backed your play."

Elliot pushed his plate to the side and leaned on the table. "Liv, let's be honest. This time, almost eleven years, apart for us was good. If I didn't leave you wouldn't have adopted Noah and I would've never agreed to this divorce. As long as we had each other to depend on, we suffered through the pains of our personal lives. As much as you hated me for it, it was good for us."

Just as Olivia started to respond her phone rung. She huffed putting the phone to her ear. "Yeah, Rollins? .... No, no, its fine ... I'm sure, I'm on my way." She hung up her phone and gave Elliot an apologetic smile. "Duty calls. Do you mind dropping me off?"

He smiled back at her. "I don't mind. Feels like old times already."