fictions & fucking addictions

multifandom recs

[andfuckingaddictions]

"Were you ever happy without me?" she asks him.

"I - I don't know," he says but knows the answer.

[andfuckingaddictions]

He comes home to New York, and he comes home to her.

She had told him she would be here, told him to expect her stalwart and tall, but still, Chava was filled with an anxiety she couldn't place. Part of her wanted him to return, to come back into her life like the lightning cloud he was, to ruffle her feathers and help her mark the time.

And part of her was hoping, in a slow, aching way, that he'd have a round-bellied copper flask in his pocket, that he'd bring her master home to her.

But Ahmad appeared as he was, unchanged as she was unchanging, at the top of the gangplank. She couldn't stop the smile that filled her face, though it hurt holding back the hope that had been hot in her chest.

"Hello," he said, holding his suitcase between them like a shield.

[andfuckingaddictions]

Uninterested in being an Avenger, Bruce goes back into hiding. Once more Natasha is sent to recruit him, but she has an agenda of her own. They navigate being human. At least one of them sometimes fails.

“You got a team waiting outside?” He dumped some beans on the mortar and got to grinding. He didn’t actually like doing things with his hands all that much. Cooking was a little like lab work, but it bored him; even suturing wounds bored him, but he had to concentrate on them, and that was good. Gave him something to do, other than go crazy.

“You know I don’t.”

Bruce glanced up. “Do I?”

She pursed her lips. She had full, pink lips. Bruce sort of wishes he hadn’t noticed them, and she said, “Check.”

“I will,” he said, “after coffee.” He turned back to the pestle. “Coffee beans are best within five months of picking. Five days of roasting. Five minutes of grinding. Five seconds of filtering. A woman in Guatemala told me.”

“We’re in Honduras.”

[andfuckingaddictions]

“Fuck you,” Leia says. “Who said anything about getting married? Did Luke say anything about getting married?”

“Luke is not involved,” Luke says, not looking up.

“Hey, Luke is not involved,” Han says, pointing at her. She’s going to bite his finger off, then they’ll see how much pointing he can do with it. “This is about you and me, princess.”

“There’s not going to be a you and me,” Leia says. “I’m going to have this baby with C-3PO.”

C-3PO says, “Madam,” tremulous.

[andfuckingaddictions]

You're fucking that pretty boy, aren't you?" Lady Greyjoy asked. "The one that led the charge with your Dothraki screamers today."

The question slapped Daenerys into alertness, like an accusation. Half of everything Lady Greyjoy said came out that way, as though she was always on the offensive. Daenerys would have suspected it of being an Iron Islands cultural artifact, except that Lord Greyjoy seemed to exist as only his sister's ducking, flailing foil, a mumbler and a stutterer who could never quite bring himself to look anyone in the eye. Perhaps he was an exception, mistreated at Winterfell so that he lacked his people's renowned backbone. Or perhaps Lady Greyjoy was the exceptional one.

She was finding it difficult to tell much about her in this setting, loafing about her council chambers in a warm, fiery glow from the braziers, with a spread of wine and ale on the table. The wine, of course, had been Lord Tyrion's idea, the ale something the Greyjoys had brought themselves. Lady Greyjoy seemed repulsed by wine.

And, apparently, pretty boys who may or may not be fucking Daenerys.

[andfuckingaddictions]

Mark Watney dies on Mars. Twice. 

NASA didn't want to tell me. It might upset me, they said. It might make me doubt my elite survival skills. I might lose morale. The Earth could get sucked into a vacuum. Because, you know, these are all things with equal likelihoods of happening.

So I feel like I should reintroduce myself.

Hello. My name is Mark Watney. I am an astronaut. I died on Sol 6.

[andfuckingaddictions]

He asked himself for years why he kept her locket [...] Now he looks at it every morning, every night, and it reminds him to hate her. For how she lied and tricked her way into his life, and the serpent's knowledge she brought with her; the prison she built for him of his own desires, that he can no more cut himself free of than his own flesh.

[andfuckingaddictions]

“What is taquitos,” she asks her house, carefully, in its tongue.

[andfuckingaddictions]

It's been six years since he sailed away, and he just made Halifax yesterday. Now the last of Barrett's privateers is out for revenge against all those whose greed or negligence wrecked the Antelope, and with it his life. But things are not entirely what he expected. There's a mystery to be solved, a voyage to be taken, and perhaps even a shot at something resembling a happy ending.

Jack tucked the pistol into his belt and waited for the old man to go before beginning the undignified process of standing up. Once he was propped upright, the crutches wedged in his armpits, he tried holding the gun again, feeling its weight. Experimentally, he held it to his own head, then quickly put it back in his belt. No. He still had work to do, and when it was done, there would be no need for effort or courage: the hangman would look after everything.

[andfuckingaddictions]

Ted tries to dispense parental advice when Rachel encounters the lurking existential dread of the college application process. There's a dead body on an airplane and Dani hates the FBI. And Charlie is probably going to buy UCLA a building.

"Quit finishing my sentences. Because I know that you know that I hate that. So," she continues, "as I was saying, I figure we've got about 20 minutes before the fucking FBI shows up. Let's just go ahead and stick a pin in the existential crisis of the day and start figuring out what you could manage bring onto an airplane and use to give someone a fatal stab wound."

"The shiv game!" Crews says brightly. "I'm good at this one."

[andfuckingaddictions]

What we don't talk about when we talk about Vulcan.

Four months into her mission, Enterprise calls at New Vulcan. Ambassador Sarek himself walks the landing party through the settlement, through the fruits of Vulcan industry and Vulcan persistence. There's no chance of the Federation allowing the colony to fail, of course, but Sarek intends new Vulcan to be more than a backwater; he shows them the foundations and cornerstones of the New City, courses of mortarless titanic masonry going up all around the cluster of pre-fabs and adobe huts that are already called the Old City. Uhura wanders among the giant construction robots, in Spock's wake if not on his arm, and though the brevity of the tour drives home the magnitude of their loss like nothing else has—all Vulcan, reduced to a morning's stroll!—still, the sense of hope and growth is almost palpable in the air. She's glad to have a chance to see this, Vulcan's rebirth, at its very beginning.

[andfuckingaddictions]

“Sure,” he continues, threading a surgical needle. “You walk in, nearly pass out, pretend that the worst of it is nothing to worry about. You’re totally fine. Of course you’re fine, you’re always fine. You’re perfect. It’s just a little blood, a little death.”

[andfuckingaddictions]

Five times Athos surprised Milady.

Despite the stories she’s heard of romances she knows better than to give them any credence when fairy stories are a luxury for girls with more gold than sense, not street sparrows who must survive by any means necessary.

[andfuckingaddictions]

Jaylah and Nyota and language. 

Jaylah’s page, marked urgent, woke Nyota at six in the morning, the day after the captain’s party.

[andfuckingaddictions]

Those first few weeks, he thinks about it a lot. What might have happened. 

Sometimes at night, staring up at the ceiling with Victoria’s slow even breathing beside him. Mostly he sleeps fine - he is, he discovers, a perfectly ordinary, even stereotypical, male in this respect.

But they move around a lot. In new places, sometimes, he lies awake, unsettled by traffic, the brakes on a city bus, a dog barking, old plumbing.

[andfuckingaddictions]

One plus one.

Crews is sleeping in a chair near the nurse's station a few doors down from her room. Kicking his foot, she watches him open his eyes and look up at her.

"You're driving me home," she says.

"I'm driving you home," he says dutifully, standing. He frowns. "I'm driving?"

"No."

[andfuckingaddictions]

Athos lies, and drinks, and remembers. Book canon.

June and July were the terrible months with Athos.

Athos knows that he could turn to Aramis and say —

"I was married."

He could say —"She was beautiful, and I loved her."

He could say —"I think I killed her because she did not love me. Because I felt betrayed."

He could say —"It wasn't the brand that was the betrayal. It wasn't the brand which was the lie."