Undertow, Disconnecting, When There's Nothing Left to Burn...

[izzybeth.livejournal.com]

::shakes fist at addictive community with awesome challenges::

Title: Undertow (Battlestar Galactica)
Author: widget285
Pairing: Leoben/Lee Adama
Rating: "D for dirtybadwrongness" (NC17)
Length: longish
Why I'm reccing this fic: younger Lee, not yet an officer in the Colonial Fleet, happens to meet a copy of Leoben at his seductive, fanatical best. widget285 gets Leoben perfectly, his interest in humanity, his knowing what Lee wants and believes. Leoben is a whitewater rapids in this fic, and Lee's just along for the ride.

"...We all want to believe that we are more than this fragile, mortal flesh."

Leoben takes another step closer, but before Lee can move away, Leoben has reached up to cup Lee’s face in his hands, his eyes gazing into Lee’s, so kind yet strangely compelling. His fingers are callus-rough where they cradle Lee’s cheeks, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. Lee wants to pull away, but finds himself frozen to the spot, like a small animal caught in the steely gaze of a predator.

"And we are," Leoben says. His smile is benevolent, almost paternal, before he leans forward and brushes a soft kiss against Lee’s brow. A benediction.


Undertow


Title: Disconnecting (Battlestar Galactica)
Author: mousewrites
Pairing: none; Leoben
Rating: G
Length: middle-ish
Why I'm reccing this fic: someone else who just GETS Leoben, gets his solid, bone-deep belief, gets how a machine might feel if it were made to be human, and gets how a human machine might become a bit unstable if separated from the collective.

[ LC649 Connecting ]

[ Connecting ]

[ Conntecti-]

[ Connection dropped. Radiation interference. Try again in 52345 cycles. ]

Nothing. Again. He looks around, the flickering light painting odd shadows in the corners. Alone here, alone again. He isn’t restless, he doesn’t get restless, but his body wants to move, wants to feel the smooth slide of muscle under skin over bone, and he pushes upright, swinging his gun over his hands. His face is scratchy; he can feel the hairs move under the skin. He pulses a bit more electricity to the skin-surface, makes the hair a bit longer, less itchy.

He tries again, even though it’s only been 52341 cycles.


Disconnecting


Title: When There's Nothing Left to Burn, You Have to Set Yourself On Fire (Twitch City)
Author: pearl_o
Pairing: Hope/Curtis
Rating: PG?
Length: longish
Why I'm reccing this fic: this reads like an episode of Twitch City. word for word, line for line of dialogue. but we get to see what Hope thinks and what she doesn't say and make sure you read the comments too because the discussion is so worth it. this story is either a "feminist manifesto" or "sad and indifferent". or maybe both.

"What do you think about the future, Curtis?" Hope folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"Uh, I don't know," Curtis said, looking at her like she was insane. "Is this like some kind of test?"

Curtis sounded some strange combination of bored and annoyed. It made Hope want to smack him.

"Do you think about it at all?" She could hear her voice raising, but she didn't care. "Do you think about anything? Are you happy like this? Nothing ever changes here, Curtis! Everyone I know is living their lives right now, and what are we doing? People are getting married, and having kids, and having real jobs, and, hell, I don't know, going out on dates, going dancing or restaurants or just the movies! Is this -- are we just going to be like this forever?"

Hope paused to suck in a breath; Curtis was staring at her like she was some new and particularly bizarre species of insect. He seemed to have totally forgotten about the existence of "Mommy and Me Alcoholics" in the background.

"You're mad because I haven't proposed to you?" Curtis said, his forehead furrowing.


When There's Nothing Left to Burn, You Have to Set Yourself On Fire

Comments

[elementalv.livejournal.com]

I loved Undertow. It completely creeped me out.