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cheesybadgers · 2 years

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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 12)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

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Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,162

Summary: Following Javier’s phone call, a plan is hatched to move Horacio to safety.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Non-graphic references to injuries/pain, discussions of sexuality and coming out, discussions of parental loss and grief, swearing, some angst (but also lots of softness, with more still to come 🥺).

Notes: I cannot tell you the relief to finally have this chapter done, phew! I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had this part of the plot in my head for nearly a year now and had to do quite a bit of research for it, but it was a tricky chapter that needed wrestling to the ground on several occasions 😂 Thank you so much to anyone still reading/commenting. The comments I’ve had since starting this fic a whole year ago have turned me into a grinning idiot and I love hearing what people think, so please feel free to come and chat either on Tumblr or AO3 😊 Chapter 13 is already in progress, so let’s see if it gives me an easier time lol.

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Chapter 12: Breathing Space

By the time Javier returned to Horacio’s bedside, Trujillo had been called away on Search Bloc business, and Steve was on a coffee run. A fact that made Javier wish he’d had the foresight to brew a fresh pot on his way back, given the usual quality of his partner’s attempts.

“No.”

To be fair, that was the response Javier had been expecting. “At least think about it for a minute.”

“I did, and my answer is still no.”

“Well, what’s the alternative?”

“I don’t know, but there has to be something.”

“You know there isn’t.”

“I can’t risk putting your family in danger, Javier.”

Our, Javier automatically – and much to his relief, silently – corrected. “You really think they’d try anything over the border?” He stopped short of mentioning extradition, not wanting to re-open that particular can of worms. Even if he remained confident that most narcos would do just about anything to avoid jail time northward of the Rio Grande. “As far as they’re concerned, there’s no reason to suspect you’d be in Laredo. It’s our safest option. Plus, I’d be coming with you.” He casually dropped that nugget of information; optimistic he’d saved his winning move for last.

“What?”

“No point sticking around here watching from the fucking side-lines whilst these heal.” He looked down towards his torso. “And whilst the ink dries on our visa revocations,” he added with a scoff.

“Won’t Messina and your other bosses have something to say about all of this?”

“What? About me visiting my old man whilst suspended from work? I wasn’t planning on clueing them in on the rest, funnily enough.” Not that Javier imagined they’d be losing much sleep over Horacio’s whereabouts. In their eyes, he was the Colombians’ problem. The DEA had been eager for Javier and Steve to distance themselves from him long before the ambush. And now a more palatable replacement was set to take over, they would most likely think of it as a savvy PR move.

Horacio sighed, unsure if he was more irritated by such a persuasive argument or the speed at which his resolve crumbled once Javier had played the ultimate ace. “Did you tell your father everything?”

Although they’d never spoken much of their family histories or the parallels between their lives, Horacio knew it was just Javier’s dad back in Texas. A thought that made him thankful his own mother at least had his sister’s family for company in Colombia. Not that they were any wiser about his and Javier’s relationship.

It wasn’t the sort of development you put in a letter or mentioned during a brief phone call. It had been hard enough explaining his redeployment to Madrid and the events of the last 24 hours. They were aware he was taking time off to recover from his injury at a classified location but were in the dark beyond that for their own safety. And Horacio couldn’t deny it had the added benefit of making his life easier for the time being.

“Yeah. Well, everything he needs to know.”

“Right.” Just as Horacio thought, then. “Are you okay with that?”

“Well, I could hardly tell him the rest over the fucking phone, could I?”

“I know, but are you prepared for him asking questions?”

“It’s gonna happen sooner or later, right?” The uncertainty was as plain on Javier’s face as it was in his words. This was new territory and, up until Horacio, he’d never envisaged the need for such conversations.

Horacio’s hand slid across the bedsheet and found its way into Javier’s, instinctively slotting their fingers together with gentle ease, like it was as natural as breathing. “Only if you’re ready.”

Javier met Horacio’s gaze with the crooked curl of his lips and a soft exhale through his nose. It was the only response he could muster to what seemed like an unfathomable concept. What did ready even mean, anyway? Was anyone ever really ready for this? Had he been ready for half of the shit that had happened in the last few years?

Instead of spiralling any further down that road, he lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth, nudging the scratch of his moustache back and forth along Horacio’s knuckles. “Let’s just get you there in one piece first.” An undertaking kissed into his skin, settling their shared apprehension, even if temporarily.

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It had taken the calling in of several longstanding favours with the Colombian Military – particularly the current Air Force General with whom Horacio had shared off the record intel and several glasses of whiskey – to agree to transport Horacio as far as an airbase just outside San Antonio. From there, they’d need to pick up a vehicle to get them to Laredo.

News of the ambush would travel fast amongst those with vested interests in bringing down Escobar. But since the beginning of the war on drugs, the Colombians had regularly used American training facilities during manoeuvres. Providing details of the plan were strictly on a need-to-know-basis amongst those they could trust, and they didn’t linger upon arrival at the airbase, they were unlikely to attract suspicion from their U.S. counterparts. Or from any personnel who were no more immune to corruption than the CNP.

The main outstanding issue was moving Horacio in his current condition, given he shouldn’t have even left the hospital yet, never mind be flying anywhere. Nor could they risk drawing attention to themselves by using medical facilities once they were in the states.

“What about medical staff from here? Can they spare anyone to tag along?” Javier queried once Steve and Trujillo had returned, running his thumb across his top lip whilst he subconsciously paced around the perimeter of Horacio’s bed.

“Probably not with the number of injuries sustained in the ambush. They’re gonna be run off their feet over the next few days.” Trujillo exchanged a look with Javier from across the room, where he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Few knew better than him what an occupational hazard working for the CNP was in Escobar’s Colombia. And this was just another in a long list of atrocities.

“Wait a minute – one nurse would be enough, right?” Steve asked, suddenly sitting up from the lazy, feline recline he’d adopted in a plastic chair that was too low to the ground for a man of his height.

“Steve, no. You can’t ask her.” Javier had stopped pacing, although not before getting a step ahead of his partner.

“But she wants to help. She was going stir crazy in Miami, and her sister’s willing to have Olivia for a bit longer. If we both tagged along, we could head back home once Carrillo’s on the mend. Beats sittin’ round here whilst we’re out of action.”

“I can’t ask you to drag Connie into this. You’ve already done enough. We’ll figure something out.”

“Javi, for fuck’s sake, let us help!” The exasperation was evident in Steve’s raised tone and the deep sigh he heaved as his head dropped into his hands. He continued after a pause of awkward silence; his voice more measured this time. “You don’t always have to do everything alone. You know she’s a damn good nurse. He’d be in safe hands, I promise.”

The notion that he didn’t have faith in Connie’s ability as a nurse triggered a wave of guilt to wash over Javier. That’s not what his reservations were about at all. No, it was his track record of hurting those he cared about that was playing on his mind. But setting his own feelings to one side for a second, he had to admit Connie was the ideal person for the job.

He worked his jaw back and forth several times, mulling over Steve’s proposal and turning to Horacio for reassurance or permission; he wasn’t sure which. A vague nod that could have been either – or both – was enough to make Javier finally accept defeat, though. “Okay, fine. If you’re sure she’s willing, let’s do it.”

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Now that the details were agreed and time was of the essence, the wheels were swiftly set in motion. Horacio, Javier and Steve were to board a helicopter to the Colombian Military base in Bogotá where they were meeting Connie. And from there, they would fly onwards to San Antonio.

Whilst the pilot carried out pre-flight checks and, Javier and Steve fetched supplies for the journey, Trujillo ensured Horacio’s stretcher was secured in place in the helicopter. “I think you’re all good to go now, Colonel.”

“Thank you, Trujillo.” He hesitated for a moment, adjusting himself on the stiff canvas evidently built more for practicality than comfort. “Have the families been contacted yet?” Of course, he had to ask. It had been weighing heavy on his mind since he’d woken up, perhaps a force of habit seen as it was a job that usually fell under his remit.

“Yes, Colonel. There’s to be a memorial service next week once – once your replacement has arrived.”

The thought of not being able to pay his respects to the men he’d lost on his watch – those he had failed to protect – was as painful a blow as the wound on Horacio’s shoulder. Even though he accepted he had no choice, it still felt cowardly and selfish to be running away and hiding like this. It went against his natural instincts when so many others never even had the option. “Right, of course. Any more news on Martínez?”

“Just that it looks like Gaviria is going to try talk him into it.” Trujillo’s gaze had dropped to the floor at the mention of a replacement, and he was now studying the scuffed toe of his boot with great interest.

Horacio gave a wry smile. “I’m sure he’ll find a way. Martínez won’t be what you’re all used to, but he’s good at what he does.”

“Do you think it’ll be enough, Colonel?”

“I don’t know. It never was before. It’s possible someone else might attempt to fill the gap, though. We’re not Pablo’s only enemies. So, just be careful and keep yourself safe.”

“Yes, Colonel. But if I get a shot at him, make no mistake, I’m taking it.” He raised his head, his eyes now meeting Horacio’s head-on with steely determination.

Horacio couldn’t and didn’t want to argue with that, so he gave a swift, firm nod of approval.

A shout from the ground indicated they were about ready to depart. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“Before you go…” Horacio trailed off, unsure how to phrase what he was about to say or why he felt the need to say it at all.

“Yes, Colonel?”

“Javier. If he ends up back here, and things get rough…”

“I’ll keep an eye on him. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Trujillo. And don’t be a stranger.”

“Don’t worry, the drinks are on you once you’re back on your feet, and this is all over.” Trujillo threw a smirk over his shoulder as he climbed out of the chopper.

Even as he walked away, Trujillo didn’t miss the huff of a chuckle from Horacio despite himself and something that sounded very much like Cheeky fucker muttered under his breath.

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Their arrival in San Antonio passed without incident, and a car was ready and waiting for them as expected. Steve offered to take on driving duties, with Connie sitting upfront, leaving Javier and Horacio to rest in the back.

So far, Horacio had remained stable but drowsy from regular doses of pain relief. Although, now that his last dosage had worn off and he was forced to sit upright, a dull throb had taken hold in his shoulder. With nothing to be done until Laredo, he settled for deep breaths and the soothing touch of Javier’s fingers over his left hand; the tightening of his grip the only obvious tell of his discomfort.

Javier wasn’t faring much better with exhaustion and the added pressure of a seat belt resting over his tender ribs. But he was trying to stay awake just in case he was needed for navigation purposes once they neared Laredo. It had been a long time since he had driven on these roads, but as the hours passed, his muscle memory kicked in.

Mile after mile of endless farmland whizzed by as they sped along the highway. In the height of summer, the ground was arid and sun-scorched, but the heavy rainfall from the last couple of months had quenched the soil and left a carpet of green in its wake. After years spent in the cooler Bogotá climate, Javier was glad his return here came in November. It would make for more comfortable nights, which was an appealing prospect when all he wanted to do was lie down – preferably with Horacio – and rest for the foreseeable.

Despite his best efforts, he could feel his head beginning to nod and his eyes starting to droop. They passed a diner where he celebrated his eighth and ninth birthdays, and apart from a fresh lick of paint, it didn’t look any different. That was always the discombobulating part of being back here. It was frozen in time in so many ways, yet, everything around it had fundamentally changed, including Javier himself.

He wasn't sure if it was the quiet murmur of chatter between Steve and Connie mixed with the lull of Spanish voices on the radio that reminded him of long car journeys with his parents. Or perhaps it was just recent events catching up with him. But his head slumped against the window, and his eyelids finally gave way to slumber.

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It was late into the evening when they pulled up in front of the large steel gates drawn closed at the foot of the ranch. Once Steve cut the engine, it became clear why they were shut when a cacophony of barking could be heard instead.

Javier went ahead of the others, the cool night air shocking his senses awake again after his accidental nap. He slipped behind the gate, the barks of alarm mellowing into whines of recognition as he greeted the furry welcoming party like the old friends they were. He hadn’t been back in far too long, but it was oddly reassuring to know he wasn’t forgotten by those whose unwavering loyalty meant they would never judge him.

Not being able to crouch to the ground made it trickier than usual to extract himself from the excitable clambering of paws and warm, sloppy licks to his hands. But the dogs seemed to pick up on his stiff body language and soon backed off. Or maybe they’d sensed the familiar presence appear behind them in the shadow of the floodlight that had flicked on at the sudden movement.

Javier’s attention was drawn away from the dogs to the shadow. “Hey, Pops.”

“Javi.” They both moved in for a hug, forgetting Javier’s injury for a second, but compromised instead with a handshake and light pats on the back. “How was the journey? Everything go to plan?”

“Long, tiring. But yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Good. You look like you need a drink, though.”

Javier couldn’t take offence at that, as even in this limited light, he knew he must have looked like shit. “Wouldn’t say no to one.”

“Well, let’s get your friends in first, then we’ll see what we can do.” Chucho was already peering curiously at the car parked on the other side of the gate before stepping past Javier and hooking it back to let Steve drive through.

A winding dirt track led up to a small complex of buildings with a courtyard in between the main farmhouse and two adjoined guesthouses that were sometimes rented out by holidaymakers or used by seasonal workers during busy periods on the ranch. Luckily, they had been sat empty for the last couple of months due to a particularly heavy spell of rainfall and storms, plus a last-minute cancellation or two.

Once Steve had parked up, Chucho was waiting to greet them.

“Dad, this is Steve Murphy – my partner – and his wife, Connie. Guys, this is Chucho.”

Chucho held out his hand to each of them in turn. “Pleasure to meet you both at long last.”

“Likewise. Impressive place you’ve got here,” Steve observed, nodding emphatically with approval as his gaze danced around the complex.

The canine welcoming committee had returned and latched themselves onto Connie, who was knelt on the floor as they fussed around her. “It really is, and these guys are adorable!”

“Thank you. These two are Sol and Leo.” Chucho pointed to two black and white Border Collies who were currently playfighting at Connie’s feet in a battle for her attention. “And this one is Luna.” This time he gestured to a majestic looking Great Pyrenees with a white and grey mixed coat. She hung back more than Sol and Leo, but still sniffed at Connie’s hand with great interest. “She’s a tougher nut to crack than the others, but she seems to like you.”

Meanwhile, Javier did his best to help Horacio out of the car. Although the pointed look directed his way suggested Horacio didn’t appreciate the assistance in the circumstances and was determined to push himself upwards with a stifled groan instead.

No sooner had Horacio extracted himself from the car, than Chucho’s attention shifted in his direction. “And I take it this must be Horacio?”

“Erm yeah, that’s right, Pops.” Javier’s mouth was suddenly devoid of all moisture and he couldn’t quite meet his father’s eye. He quickly cleared his throat, desperate to get a fucking grip of himself before anyone noticed his awkwardness. “Horacio, this is my dad, Chucho.”

“Pleased to meet you, Señor Peña.” Despite his less-than-graceful entrance, it was as though a switch flicked in a matter of seconds. Horacio confidently held out his left hand and grasped Chucho’s with the same professionalism he had done when meeting the likes of Gaviria for the first time. “And thank you – for everything. I’m sorry to intrude like this.” He was doing much better than Javier so far, it seemed.

“Please, call me Chucho. And well, it’s one way to get my son to visit me, at least,” he quipped, making a point of side-eyeing Javier. “Let’s get you more comfortable and find you something to eat. You all must be starving.”

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Officially, Steve and Connie took one of the guesthouses, whilst Horacio took the other, leaving Javier to become reacquainted with his old bedroom in the main farmhouse. It gave everyone their own space, plus Connie and her medical supplies were close by for Horacio whenever required.

Unofficially, of course, Javier had other ideas. He waited until Chucho had passed around hearty bowls of homemade sopa de fideo. After making large batches for the ranch staff – particularly in the colder months – it had become his speciality dish.

Everyone had been quick to disperse to bed once sleeping arrangements were agreed, so when the coast was clear, Javier discreetly made his way across the courtyard. If it wasn't for his ribs, he would have laughed at the absurdity of sneaking around like this, especially at his age, but then again, needs must. For now, at least.

The guesthouses, much like the main farmhouse, were a mix of limestone and wooden beams, and with it being a working ranch, the interior erred towards the rustic. Each property had a master bedroom with a double bed, plus an additional bunk room and bathroom. Paintings of the local landscape and photos of prize-winning cattle and horses reared on the ranch adorned the walls, along with a trademark set of horns hung over the fireplace in the centre of a combined living/kitchen area. Javier had often rolled his eyes at how clichéd the whole thing was, but it was the authentic experience tourists signed up for.

By the time Javier arrived, Connie had given Horacio more pain relief and attached an antibiotic drip as a precaution. Horacio was already dozing in bed, elevated by a stack of pillows, but soon stirred once he felt the mattress dip next to him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s fine. I did try stay awake.” Horacio’s voice was fuzzy with fatigue, but he was determined to finish the conversation before fully giving into it.

“You need to rest. Don’t worry about anything else right now, okay?” It was awkward given their injuries, but Javier did his best to lean against Horacio’s left shoulder. He placed a kiss to Horacio’s temple and ran the pad of his thumb in soothing circles where their hands joined under the duvet. As he relaxed into the solid warmth next to him, he let out a long sigh he was pretty sure he’d been holding in since they had left Carlos Holguín.

“Well, you did it.” Horacio tilted his head to the left, connecting with Javier’s. He’d never wanted to wrap himself so thoroughly around someone, but that would have to wait for another day and this would have to suffice for now.

“I think you’ll find it was a team effort. Although now you mention it, it was my idea.” A weary smirk crossed Javier's face, but his eyes stayed closed as he decompressed and digested the events of the last couple of days.

“Of course. You never told me that charm of yours was a family trait.”

“You never asked.” There it was again, only this time accompanied by the teasing scratch of facial hair against Horacio’s neck. “Oh, and speaking of, Señor Peña?”

“What’s wrong with that? I’d just met the guy!” Despite the incredulity that had sprung into Horacio’s voice, he didn’t have the energy to lift his head from its resting spot against Javier’s.

“Nothing, it’s just you’re so fucking formal.”

“Am I?”

“You’re the only person to exclusively call me Javier since I was at school, for a start.”

“What can I say? You’ve always felt more like a Javier than a Javi to me.”

“Never said it was a bad thing.”

That was the last comment either of them remembered the other saying as they succumbed to the rest their bodies and minds had been crying out for. Not just since the ambush, but for weeks, months, years. It was a cumulative burnout catching up with them, one that couldn’t possibly be fixed in a night, a week or even a month, but it was a start.

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Javier couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in his childhood bedroom. Even prior to moving away for work, he’d taken up residence in one of the guesthouses. Which was where he’d snuck out unnoticed at the first sign of sunrise that morning, reluctantly leaving Horacio fast asleep in favour of avoiding questions he wasn’t ready to answer yet. He always figured it was close enough to nip across the yard to the main farmhouse for food and drink supplies when his own stash ran dry. But far enough away so his dad couldn’t hear what he got up to with anyone he invited home with him.

Early dawn light trickled through the curtains and drew Javier’s eye to the sun-faded snapshots of his past that whispered like ghosts from the corner of the room. His graduation certificate sat alongside an old family photo taken at a cousin’s quinceañera. Rounding everyone up to pose for it in the first place had been a challenge, not helped by him and several other children hiding in the stables passing round a bottle of tequila. A couple of swigs was all it took for Javier to turn green and lose the contents of his stomach in the horses’ feeding trough, much to the delight of his cousins. To this day, they still relished in recounting every detail of that story whenever their paths crossed.

He also remembered that day well, as it was one of the last few pictures taken of his mother. Of course, you couldn’t tell from the photo, as she tried to hide her illness as much as possible, even when everyone knew. They all went to great lengths not to talk about it when Javier was present too, but he was a child; he wasn’t stupid. He picked up on all of the hushed conversations. The tears wiped hastily away on the backs of hands or sleeves, and the sad, pitying smiles from older relatives who already viewed him as a half-orphan. He learnt more about human behaviour and reading body language in that period of his life than any Psychology or Sociology course could ever have taught him.

A knock roused him from his thoughts, a welcome relief to what was rapidly turning into a painful walk down memory lane. “Come in.” His vocal cords were still thick with sleep and long overdue their first caffeine fix of the day.

Almost as though he had read his son’s mind, the door opened with a creak to reveal Chucho armed with a large mug and already dressed for work, Stetson included. The restorative aroma of coffee quickly drifted into the bedroom, and there was something strangely nostalgic to Javier about the situation.

“Did you manage to sleep okay?” Chucho asked as he perched on the edge of the bed and handed the mug to Javier once he’d propped himself up against the headboard with a wince and a grunt.

“Yeah, I did, thanks.” Javier immediately took a sip despite it being far too hot to drink yet. A much easier alternative than elaborating on the main reason for his good night’s sleep.

“You never could wait for it to cool down. Even when you were small, and your mother warned you not to burn yourself, you wouldn’t listen.”

Javier huffed faintly, sending a trail of steam across the rim of the mug held up to his mouth. “I remember. But I’m a big boy now, Pops. I think I can manage.”

“Are you sure about that, Mijo?”

It was far too early for riddles and metaphors. So, Javier rolled his eyes and continued to make his way through his drink until Chucho was forced to change the subject.

“I need to tend to the horses and run a few errands in town. I take it you’ll all be alright without me for a few hours?”

“Yeah, sure, do whatever you need to do. Have you, er, seen any of the others yet this morning?” Javier aimed for casual curiosity but was quite sure he missed the mark.

“Connie’s in the kitchen. She was taking some coffee to Steve and had just checked on Horacio, who apparently had a good night by all accounts. He’s lucky to have friends like you. To do all of this for him. Not many would.”

“Glad to hear it. And er, yeah, well, he’d do the same for me.” Javier hid behind his mug once again, fearing he’d said too much and given himself away even with such a short sentence. He hoped the gulping noise he made as he swallowed wasn’t as loud as it sounded in his head. Although to be on the safe side, he ploughed on in a bid to cover it up. “Listen, I, er, just wanted to say thank you. For letting us all stay here like this.”

“You’re my son, Javi. You’ll always have a home here.” Chucho stood up from the bed and softly squeezed Javier’s shoulder before making his exit to give the horses their morning feed. An air of unanswered questions lingered between them. But if anyone knew when to back off and let Javier exercise his right to remain silent, it was Chucho.

Javier wondered if that sentiment would remain true if Chucho knew the whole truth. It was one thing to suspect your teenage son of experimenting with his best friend when they were little more than raging hormone bombs. But it was quite another to be introduced to the man your adult son was in a serious relationship with. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to reveal the latter just yet, or if he ever would be.

He downed the dregs of his coffee and made his way to the bathroom, every sharp movement still requiring slow, deep breaths. As expected, the bruising was even angrier now, and the jets of water from the shower faucet were like pinpricks to his chest. Once dressed, he headed for the kitchen to find Connie still at the table making a fresh pot of coffee.

“Oh hey, you’re up. Want another?” Connie gestured to the empty mug in Javier’s hand.

“Morning. And very much so, thanks,” Javier replied, holding out his cup to be refilled. “Steve still in bed?” Like he even needed to ask given the number of times he’d left his partner snoring away in his bunk back at Carlos Holguín.

“How ever did you guess? I think the drive took it out of him. How you feeling anyway? Were you able to get any sleep?”

“I’m alright, better for those painkillers you gave me, so thanks for that. And yeah, I went out like a light for a change. How’s—is he—have you—” Whatever he was aiming for, it certainly wasn’t that.

“He’s doing okay,” Connie cut in, her eyes softening further as she understood what Javier was attempting to ask. “I changed his dressing about an hour ago. I’m not sure he knew I was there as he was still asleep, but everything looks as it should at this stage. And don’t worry about the fatigue; it’s perfectly normal post-surgery. Even more so when you’ve just flown a few thousand miles against medical advice.” She couldn’t resist a stern look at Javier. Although there was no real annoyance in her scolding.

“Thanks, Connie. And thanks for coming here. You and Steve really didn’t have to do all this.”

“I’m here because I want to be, Javi, and so is Steve. After everything you did for him when he was…well, you know. It’s the least we can do.” Now it was Connie’s turn to hesitate. “He, er, told me what happened. I swear I didn’t tell him anything. We both just figured it out separately.”

Javier nodded as he got his head around the abrupt change of subject, working his way through his second coffee much like the first. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t know for sure until the day Steve went missing. But I’d had a hunch for a while. There were a few things he said during his petty rants about the two of you going off without him. Of course, he thought it was all about how you obviously didn’t trust him,” she laughed with a roll of her eyes, “but it never added up to me. And then, do you remember that Embassy Christmas dinner a few years back?”

“Vaguely. I think Steve and I handled being forced to attend by making good use of the free bar.”

“That’s the one, and oh, you absolutely did. You could barely walk by the end of the night. I was about ready to leave you both there to sober up when along came my Knight in shining armour. Well, Colonel in dress uniform anyway.” Connie couldn’t resist a wink now she was in full flow of her story.

“What?”

“You don’t remember? He offered to drive us all home and helped you into your apartment.”

“No, I don’t remember that at all.” Horacio always hated those bullshit functions, so Javier was surprised he even turned up in the first place. “Fuck, I really must have been drunk.” As he laughed, a warmth spread through him at being given a new piece of his and Horacio’s history that he hadn’t even been aware of. History that happened long before Tolú yet made complete sense in hindsight.

“Oh, you were. I don’t think I saw Steve until late afternoon the day after. But yeah, there was always something about you two.”

“Did Steve – did he say anything? When he found out you knew, I mean.”

“I think his pride was a little wounded because Mr Big Shot DEA Agent didn’t work it out before his wife.” She paused to allow them both a moment to indulge in a shared joke at the expense of her husband. “But other than that, not really. He cares about you, Javi. We both do. We just want you to be happy.” She took a long sip of her coffee and placed the mug back down. “And I’m sure your dad wants the same thing too.”

Javier wasn’t sure what to say to that. But luckily for him, Connie clocked the flashes of panic in his eyes at the mention of his father. She reached across the table and lightly squeezed his hand with her own, allowing him to reciprocate in a silent gesture of thanks instead.

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It was mid-afternoon by the time Horacio woke. His bleary eyes squinted at the low sun clinging to the edges of the sky and curtains, along with a thick layer of dust that exposed how unused the place had been lately.

He needed a moment to notice Javier lying next to him, a lazy curve of the lips taking hold as they drank each other in.

“Hey,” Horacio rasped. He was still groggy and grateful for the glass of water held out for him to sip from as he slowly came round.

“Hey yourself, Sleeping Beauty.” It raised a huff of amusement from them both, although there was undeniable beauty in witnessing Horacio like this. In how relaxed his jaw and facial muscles were for a change. In the way his long lashes delicately fluttered like a butterfly’s wings whenever he stirred. In the steady rise and fall of his broad chest, as predictable as the tide drifting in and out. Waves gently lapping around them for once rather than submerging and drowning, reminding Javier how peaceful sleep was supposed to be.

“What time is it?”

“Just after two.”

“Shit. You should’ve woken me.”

“Why, you got somewhere to be?”

“Very funny. I just don’t like sleeping through the day, that’s all.” It wasn’t something Horacio had ever indulged in, even throughout his teenage years. There hadn’t been much opportunity for lounging in bed on weekends, with Sundays reserved almost exclusively for church and family gatherings. Whilst Saturdays were often spent shadowing his father. Whether it was learning maintenance skills around the house, or being taken to his workplace to be given a “head start”; Horacio had a strong work ethic instilled in him from an early age.

“I think it might be allowed when you’re recovering from major surgery. How you feeling?”

“Annoyingly exhausted despite how much I’ve slept.”

“Connie said that’s normal after surgery, so nothing to worry about. You should eat and drink something to keep your strength up, though. There’s plenty of leftovers from last night.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

“Pops has taken the others on a guided tour.” Javier gave an affectionate roll of his eyes at the thought of Chucho in his element. By the end of it, his friends would know their Quarter Horses from their Arabians. And their Santa Gertrudis from their Brahmans, whether they wanted to or not. Even once it became clear Javier wasn’t likely to follow in his father’s footsteps, these were facts still embedded deep in his long-term memory. “But Connie will be dropping by later to check up on you.”

“Right.” It didn’t take long for the tension to re-emerge on Horacio’s face now he was awake. A shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Javier.

“What is it?”

“What you’re all doing for me, it’s…beyond what I deserve. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, Javier.”

“Hey, come on, you know it’s not like that. You had no choice but to leave.” With laboured effort, Javier shifted closer to Horacio and leaned over him as carefully as he could manage. “So, this isn’t about being a burden.” He broke off to place slow, tender kisses on his lips and forehead. “It’s about keeping you alive,” he finished, nuzzling their noses together like a pair of purring cats.

It was another half an hour before they finally left the bed in search of food. Not that either man was in a fit state for anything physical beyond kissing at the moment. A fact that infuriated and frustrated them almost as much as the injuries themselves. But being alone together like this, with time and space to heal, to catch their breath and to close their eyes each night without the imminent threat of violence on the horizon, was more than enough for now. Despite the horror that had led them here, their newfound respite was a luxury to be savoured and they fully intended to make the most of it whilst they had the chance.

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

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hawkland · 3 years

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My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6

Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)

“Oldies” but Goodies: Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.

Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out.

My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*

Lots more recs below the cut:

More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.

X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).

sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.

And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley. It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.

what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet.

before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind.

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable.

15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.

so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.

Delicious smut:

Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.

He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell.

Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.

The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).

A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.

Short and sweet, fluff to angst:

Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)

And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.

Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.

Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.

#my fic recs #destiel recs #my destiel recs #ok that's it for right now #should be plenty to keep y'all busy for a bit

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jenivi7 · 3 years

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First Lines Tagging Meme

I'M SO HAPPY TO BE TAGGED IN THIS TWICE! Thank you @ink-flavored and @clyde-side !! (I almost just did this on my own too because I love babbling about my own fics...)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

Now pinned and under a cut because it became a really long, really good introduction to me and my stories!

Hello!

Unnecessary and overly wordy introduction/personal musings: I love opening lines so much. When I worked at a bookstore, I used to open books and hardcore judge them on their first lines. I had barely any free time to read at that point so if it didn’t grab me in the first line or two, I put it back. The first Harry Potter book is actually in my pile of really good openers. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” (Subtle alliteration, HELLO??) So I'm super excited to see if my own first lines come even close to the standards that I apply to other people lol. MY OWN MONEY IS ON NO. I have the feeling that I'm so frantic trying to get the story down on paper before the good words disappear from my head that I'm not actually paying attention to the first line. BUT LET'S SEE, SHALL WE.

So just straight up going backwards, I've written and posted TWO BRAND NEW THINGS after being away from fandom almost entirely for 10+ years! They're drabble length but they're shiny and new! <3 (All available fics are linked!)

1. Tango:

She teaches them to dance so that they can dance with her but when Atem gets that mischievous smirk on his face and pulls Yugi into his arms, their bodies spark and the dance floor smolders at their heels.

(The fic is so short that this is a full 1/5 of it but actually, I think I crammed all the good stuff right into that first line. This already might be my favorite. Like it says there in the line itself, Puzzleshipping.)

2. No Betting:

Anzu sat at the kitchen table writing carefully calculated answers onto sticky notes before attaching them to a fourth-grade math worksheet.

(Peachshipping! This one doesn't pop off until about line five so here's the rest of that bit:)

She had the same arrangement with her spouse as most parents had. When the kids were good they were hers. When they were bad, they were his. And when they were winning at games because they picked up rules with uncanny speed and read their opponents with more insight than ought to be available to a child, they were definitely, definitely his.

3. If you wanted honesty that's all you had to say (working title):

When he realized that the figure sitting under the game shop display window and smoking wasn’t Ryou, the physical body response was as though it had discovered a coiled snake not two feet away.

(This one! It's a NEW half finished(?) WIP. I actually started this one before the drabbles but wanted to finish before posting it. Then it got out of hand, then work got out of hand, then I started a couple more projects and well. I keep putting words on it though and eventually there will be a Kleptoshipper that turns into Puzzle and Tender for your reading enjoyment. Also, fair warning - don't use song lyrics as a working title. Every time I look at the document I get the song stuck in my head.)

Now we have polished up reposts of old stories for their move to AO3, where I'll basically keep my master archive. Not full re-writes but I fixed a bunch of typos and awkward sentences and they're much stronger for it. Most of these are from a pairings contest way back when so LOTS of different pairings and lots of AUs!

4. Human:

It was like a bad noir, the thought crossed both of their minds.

(Scifi AU, Rivalshipping. That one's not bad for a first line. Actually no link at the time of writing cause the re-edit is going up in like, a half hour? an hour? a half day? It's my next project after finishing this, finishing up the edit and posting it on AO3. Now with link!)

5. Blood:

Fingers through midnight black hair, whispers in his ear, touches that sizzled along the skin, awakening nerves and senses.

(Dungeonshipping, Pegasus x Otogi, vampires AU. Oh that’s a nice first line! <3)

6. Crazy for You:

The keys are too large and too heavy for the doctor more used to more modern facilities but she doesn't say anything, just follows the orderly as he pulls the large door open.

(Manipulashipping, Anzu x Marik, Psychward AU. Still one of my favorites from that era. Big bold warning though, THIS ONE CONTAINS NON-CON)

7. Finality:

“What are you doing here?”

“Saying goodbye.” Bakura’s translucent arms swept across the graveyard. “Is this not an appropriate place for it?”

(First two or so bits of dialogue as the first first is a generic question. You can tell this is one of the really old ones just by that but it's a sweet, sad little Tendershipper that still has a special place in my heart.)

8. Pieces of You:

Glitter caught the light, leaving shimmering trails in the air as it got everywhere.

(Glittershipping, Anzu x Kisara. Another one that's special to me. Kisara is my girl and my first writing muse. <3)

9. Cambodia:

“It was summer of fifty three...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, it can't have been fifty three. You might be that ancient but I'm not. It must have been sixty three.”

(Jiishipping. Yes. Sugoroku x Arthur. HEY, IT CAME UP IN THE RANDOM DRAW FOR THE SHIPPING CONTEST OK. And my writer's brain hasn't backed down from a challenge yet... Another one that takes 4 lines to pop off but it's a good start. Actually, here's the rest of the bit just because I cannot get enough of these two bickering:)

“What do you mean it must have been sixty three? You don't even know what story I'm trying to tell.”

“Am I in it?”

“What?”

“So you're deaf now as well as daft? AM I IN IT?”

“Of course you're in it, y'old coot. Don't know why I'd tell a story without you in it when both grandkids are sitting here.”

10. Coffee and Cigarettes:

"Cigarettes and coffee? That's not a very healthy lunch."

Mana crossed her legs and took a refined sip of her own coffee even as her company was not.

(Mischiefshipping, Mana x Thief King Bakura. Oh this one I'm actually sad that it doesn't immediately sparkle in the first line cause it's one of my absolute favorites of everything I've written. And I think it's the only time I've ever written Mana but I LOVED IT AND HER. Oh no! I lied, I've written her at least one other time though I don't think that one quite captures her sheer chaos energy like this one does.)

11. A Million Missed Chances:

Somewhere along the line, someone made a choice.

(This one. THIS ONE. I think this is by far the most epic idea I've tackled. I still don't know if the sheer scale of the thing came across in the actual fic but in my head it was massive and I remember pounding away at my teeny tiny laptop late at night because the whole thing hit me maybe a day or so before the story was due for the pairings contest. We only had a week to write each fic and my really good ideas never came to me before the very last minute. T.T Conquestshipping, Mai x Valon.)

12. A Fear of Falling:

She drove.

Like she always did when something bothered her.

(Oh the first chapter on this is also one of the really ancient ones. Like one of the very first things I wrote. That first chapter really shows its age and is a little shaky but the others are better and the last one is what fits into the chorological order here. Polarshipping, Jou x Mai. One of my very first ships. Probably THE first actually <3)

13. What Our Creators Make Us:

"Well, well." The match flared, scattering dark shadows until it was blown out and the only light that remained was the red glow from the cigarette end. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

(Psychoshipping, Marik x Spirit of the Ring Bakura. With a bit of Bronze, Angst and Tender in the follow up. Old but I'm ridiculously proud of it, hence it's place in the master archive. Ahaha you can tell how old it is though by how clever I think I am. I thought it was funny to make my audience figure out who was talking and not reveal the characters for a good fourth to third of the fic. Ahhhhhhh. Sorry about past me.)

14. A Revolution of the Spirit:

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

That they were close was understandable (you don't get much closer than sharing headspace) but that even now, after deals were made with gods, endless arguments, compromises and the ultimate guilt trip that he had only been a teenager when he willingly sacrificed himself for all of humanity, things she had only half seen and only partly understood even though they had all been there to witness, that even now Atem continued to invade Yugi's personal space as though he belonged there got on her nerves.

(Woah Nelly! That third sentence should probably be three, four and five. Even if I just split it in half we'd continue the pattern of things popping off in the fourth line. I think that's one pattern that's emerging! A really good bit takes me about four lines to set up and deliver! Oh, the challenge was Revolutionshipping, Anzu x Atem, but the fic is actually Spiritshipping, Anzu x Yugi x Atem.)

So confession time, I haven't been out of fandom completely, I just hadn't written my own standalone stories in a very long time. There are a few (ok ok more than a few) long-running rps that @miss-moberg and I have been adding to on and off over the years. I can't resist throwing in a couple of these.

15. Cafe!

The door shut behind them with the soft click of the latch and the exhale of a breath long held.

(This opening line was from December of 2020 when we rebooted a very old Prideshipper and that is a damn good opening line if I do say so myself. I can definitely see the difference now between the newer works and the older ones. I've gotten better, she's matched me pace for pace and eventually something will be finished, I'll work up the courage to ask permission to post it and the whole internet will get to see how brilliant the two of us are together.)

16. Treasure Hunt!

"Ryou, I think you're going to regret letting me tag along on your adventuring this time." Yugi didn't bother turning away from the airplane's tiny window to see if his seatmate was paying attention. He was more thinking out loud with his friend playing the role of a convenient sounding board. "Because I think this trip is the only thing I'm going to talk about ever again."

(One more from RP because it's got that fun, four line punch that we've discovered is a pattern for me! Opening entry is from 2017.)

Also, in truth, my count is a little off when I say I'd been out of fandom 10+ years. I've been away from YGO for that long but I did spend a brief stint in Homestuck where I read a ton of fanfic, flirted with a couple group RPs and even wrote a tiny bit. 9 years without writing a new fic isn't as impressive as saying ‘over a decade’ but it is a little more accurate.

17. What You Will:

In the land of fair Illyria, along a small, sandy stretch of its rocky shore, a ship has come to ruin and one lone woman lies still as death among broken wood.

(The beginning of a Homestuck/Twelfth Night crossover that I'm still determined to work more on someday. It's only got a single chapter but it's magic though now I'm concerned about not being able to recapture that. Not a bad first line though. The style is so different it took me reading it a couple times before going, oh yeeeeeah, that's pretty good!)

18. Relentless:

You pull him to the deck and then across it by the remains of his shirt. Let him say one last goodbye. His ship pillaged, his crew murdered, his hands bound behind his back and at your mercy.

Funny word, that. Mercy.

(The first line is pretty decent but there's that four line combo again! Five but I could basically fix that with a comma. Featuring the troll ancestors Mindfang and Dualscar because every time Hussey introduced new characters they were instantly my favorite.)

19. Black:

There is dark and there is dark and there is dark and then there is black. She is black. Licorice and coal. She is hate and resentment and everything that tastes bitter, the kind of black that coats the tongue like oil, drips down the back of the throat and keeps going.

(Oh wow. Am I allowed to say that about my own work? A Terezi/Vriska drabble that I'm putting as much here as I think I can get away with because it's so good that it fucks me up a little going back and reading it.)

And here it gets tricky because I think the more recent of the old, old fics are in the Drabbles and Shorts collection on ff.net and I can't see a post date. So I'll just pick a good one to end on.

20. Two Princes:

It was inevitable as the rising of Ra's chariot after a long night, as the flooding of the river banks every spring, and Atem always knew that Yugi's kiss would be as warm and gentle as the evening breeze in the summer that brought relief from the scorching day. It was.

(How about the final honor going to more Puzzle/Blind? This probably has the strongest first line of its era. Actually I'm not sure when it was written. It was just hanging out in my writing folder and, thinking about it, I probably wrote it when I was fading from fandom the first time around but still trying to hang in there. No wait! That’s too sad, we can’t end on that! Lets add one more to the list for the sake of personal narrative!)

21. Linger:

The world doesn't need him anymore. It doesn't need his sword and it doesn't need his pen.

(A tiny Princess Tutu afterward that I wrote for myself. Nice one-two punch in the opener. Also it rounds out the personal story that accidentally developed here with a line later in the fic, "Words, however, never stray far from a good writer..." Like, wait, stop. Past me, how did you know T.T)

Did that take a sudden emotional turn for anyone else or was that just me. Can I offset that a little with an honorable mention? Let’s do that while I collect myself. Here’s one more.

Honorable mention: Ryou and the Thief

There was a storm gathering and too much magic in the air. Much more than occurred naturally and magic at this level was never a good thing.

(I can’t have a list of things I’ve written without having Ryou and the Thief on it. If you click on this one though, BEWARE, it’s old, it’s silly and it has a ton of explicit gay sex that… would be written very differently if we were handling it today I’m sure! This is the first RP @miss-moberg and I ever did together and our excuse to Gemship and Puzzleship turned into us running the boys through a whole adventure based on the Osiris myth. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever completed and I’d still consider it kind of my legacy.)

And that’s the last 21(+1!) stories that I’ve written!

The clear winner of best first line for me is 15. Cafe! It’s short, elegant and manages to contain a whole mood even without the context of what’s going on and who’s involved. (Spoilers: It’s Seto and Mokuba making an AU escape from Gozoboro.) Close second is Tango, the most recent story. It’s neat to see just how much better I’ve gotten and also really cool to see that even if the first line itself doesn’t contain a punch, it’s usually because there’s a nice, strong idea being set up and delivered in the first four lines (or so). What a pleasant surprise!

AND WOW, this whole tag thing didn't need to be so long! Or personal! Seriously, if you get this tag from me the challenge is only to list the first lines to 20 stories and maybe try to draw one or two conclusions from them. You all thought I was joking when I said I loved talking about my own writing! But actually, I guess it’s fine like this as I ended up using it as a way to re-introduce myself. Like, "Hey, I used to live here a long time ago and oh my god I love what you've done with the place!" Rather than being someone who's just popped up out of nowhere a few weeks ago to creepily bother all your best of the best creators so....

^///^ Hello!

Thanks for letting me ramble!

Tags! I think I've seen most of the authors I follow do this already but on the off chance you haven't been tagged yet: @elexica (checked your blog to see if you'd already done the tag and saw that you're another person returning to writing fanfiction after 10+ years. Same! Hello!!), @danieco, @draconicmaw, @nedjemetsenen (has someone tagged you already?) and two shots in the dark, @miss-moberg and @edmondia (I'm so sorry you two. T.T Please feel free to block me forever.) And please, anyone else who wants to babble about their own writing! Do this, it was so much fun. <3

#ygo #yu-gi-oh #yugioh #yugioh fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jenific #so many ships #so many characters like woah #not half bad for a retrospective if i do say so myself #thank you for coming to my ted talk #tag game #first lines tag

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thistle-and-thorn · 2 years

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2, 7, 12 <3

Oh thanks! 🥺

2. Highlight of Your Year

Ummmm….probably my birthday weekend? That was a really good time. Or the Fourth of July? I was with my friends and family and, like, it was almost normal lol.

7. Top Three Albums

This is hard because I feel like I listen to too many thing or just one (1) artist for like eight months of the year. I really enjoyed Olivia Dean’s EP and Brooke Fraser’s Flags album that you rec’d!! I also loved Olivia Rodrigo’s album and Sir Woman’s album (which did that come out in 2020, I have no concept of time lol) and Adele’s album was really good, too. This was also the year of Wasteland, Baby! For some reason, I decided 2021 was going to be the year that I listened to Wasteland, Baby! every single day for like nine months. Literally. I finally took it out of my car CD player and it’s been three weeks and I already want it back.

12. Goals for the new year

I have a lot this year. Like a lot. I tend to set my professional goals in June and my personal ones in January. I haven’t done these properly yet with objectives and the whole nine yards but here’s the gist of the list:

1. I want to start making plans again? COVID made me very inert in many ways and I want to be more…I don’t know…adventurous again? Trying to keep going with my life and my goals? I put a lot of stuff on hold and I want to move forward with intention again. This includes lots of areas: financial, professional, personal.

2. The forever goal of trying to be better at being a thoughtful friend and keeping in touch with people. I made some progress this year but I could always be better especially in maintaining friendships I have back in my home city and my friends who live all over the country.

3. My other forever goal of continuing to work on my shyness. I used to be pretty good at masking it and pushing forward to join things and meet people but it’s a thing that COVID allowed me to indulge. And now I live in a brand-new area and need to Make Friends and Social Connections and so I’m trying to re-learn how to not be so nervous/apathetic about meeting new people.

4. I’m doing some (safe, masked, boosted) traveling this year for work and for pleasure that I’m excited about!

5. I have a big volunteer project I just signed on for. It will be a major time commitment and is very important work, I think, so I want that to go well.

6. I just agreed to join my friend’s start-up, very part-time, so I hope that goes well, too!

7. I want to get serious about some of my personal artistic projects and I want to submit at least one (1) short story for publication. I don’t even care if it gets published, I just want to submit one.

8. Latin classes. It’s time to start thinking about graduate school, folks.

9. I have some fanfic goals this year, too! I recently listed out all my WIPs or ideas that won’t leave me alone and, um, there’s 14 of them. So I want to make some progress in those stories—like finish our praise, my cupid and psyche series, our magnum opus the Louvre fic XD XD, etc.

10. I set this goal last year to read 24 books and I’m going to do it again this year. This is a manageable goal for me because I am a Slow Reader and a Depressed Person. This year, I’ve surpassed that number but that baseline goal of reading two books a month made reading for pleasure again feel achievable even in unstable moments?

#asks

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chaos-monkeyy · 3 years

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Fic writer tag game! sort of tagged by @frankthesnek 😁

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

190! Climbing a lot faster towards the 200 mark than I did at the 100 mark, thanks to embracing the joy of drabbles, short fics, and deciding sometimes a quick fic without endless editing is in fact plenty good enough 😂

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

673,204 words total including various collaborative or group efforts that I didn't write alone (incidentally, I missed hitting exactly 666,666 recently by TWELVE FUCKING WORDS. Just close enough to make me go nnnnooooo..!! when I noticed... but not quite enough to be worth trying to edit my fics down by 12 words exactly 🙈 (and tbh it wouldn't quite feel the same as posting something actually tailored to hit that mark on purpose in the first place)

3) How many fandoms have your written for and what are they?

Twelve! (essentially, anyway - if you could all of Star Wars as a single large fandom)

Star Wars, Stargate, The Witcher, Midsomer Murders, Assassin's Creed, The Expanse, The Dresden Files, RPF, Stormlight Archive, The Mentalist, Aquaman, and Good Omens.

it's one heckuva skewed distribution though, the vast majority of my fics are SW, followed by stargate, and the rest trail off from there.

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All Geraskier Witcher fics, that being the biggest and most current fandom and ship I've ever been actively writing for 😂 - A Tight Fit, Stolen Moments, Undignified, Keep it up, and Intoxicating.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yup, always! Because I love getting them and I also love when I get replies on comments I leave on other writers' fics. And I like connecting with people 😊

6) What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Hands-down it's my "Zombie / what's in your head" MCD thranto fic. I have a small handful of others with ambiguous or bittersweet endings, but that one is the only thing I've ever written that merits the Sad Ending and Hurt No Comfort tags (and oof does it ever merit them)

7) What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

hmmm... most of my fics have a happy ending in the "happy ending" wink-wink nudge-nudge 😉😏 sense at the very least 😂

But I'm probably gonna go with Curious Creatures (thranto filthy fairytale AU) because it really culminates with that "lived happily ever after" vibe. As opposed to the sort of.. "happy in the present and immediate future" happy ending of my typical in-'verse fics.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've written?

Nope, I've thought of a few but never quite gotten around to writing one (maybe someday!). I have some weird fucking AUs that I really like though 😂

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes, but somehow very little? i.e. a whole lot less than I would expect to receive given what I write sometimes 😅 Worst hate I've gotten was actually on twitter rather than on AO3, once directed at me for an incest kink fic someone took offense to (it was mostly just funny), and once indirectly in a different fandom (seeing people making fun of a piss kink fic because they took offense to it.. existing in the character tag?).

I've had people be actively rude to or just ignore a co-author on fics I've done with friends more than once though, weirdly enough, which I actually find a lot more anger-inducing than hate directed at me is.

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

....all of the smut 😂 mostly slash, lots of kink, some porn with feelings and some porn with plot and some where the porn IS the plot. And a whole lot of self indulgent PWP 😏

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep I've been really obviously ripped off before and it's a real shitty feeling

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah! Just once I think, but it was pretty neat to be asked 😄

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yup! Several times with a few different people, it was a lot of fun.

14) What's your all time favorite ship?

Don't really have one? I ship too many ships across too many fandoms to pick One Favourite For All Time 🙈 Plus, I mean... interests shift and I don't want to wind up making myself feel guilty for that if it does happen to even my favourite ships. I've seen people stubbornly holding onto a ship they don't seem to be all that interested in anymore, just because their whole fandom identity is wrapped up in it. It... really doesn't look like it'd be a fun time 😬

15) What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

There's quite a few, some partially published and some still in my fic writing folders, but I hesitate to actually say "I don't think I'll ever finish This One" because sometimes I do randomly come back to shit out of the blue, or because a re-watch/-play/-read rekindles the interest in it again. Probably not likely in a lot of cases, but... squirrel-brain does what squirrel-brain wants to do 😂

16) What are your writing strengths?

Sex scenes 😎 and short fic of all flavours

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Sometimes my overly long sentences are good, but sometimes they do just unnecessarily make the paragraph harder to read. I also have a tendency to stray to far into Over-Description territory of characters' physical states and actions.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It can be effective and immersive, but only if it doesn't leave people confused and having to jump up or down to translation notes at the start or end. My favourite use of other languages in dialogue is to use it only for single words that are evident or explained in context, or for terms of endearment where it's not necessary to know the exact meaning of it (especially when that stuff is part of canon anyway, like the smattering of Italian used in Assassin's Creed, or Radek cursing in Czech)

If it's like full sentences, I just write the line in english in italics, along with something like "X replied in [language]" to signal it's happening.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Midsomer Murders 😊

20) What's your favorite fic you've written?

It changes, really... I guess currently it's probably Inflection Point just cause I'm still really proud of myself for actually doing it 😄

I also feel like I've been tagging people a lot lately, so I'll do like frank did and say Consider yourself tagged if you wish you were ;D

#tag games #long post #chaos babbles #writing #multifandom #i'm a little bit high rn so if any of this makes no sense i apologize 😂

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 4 years

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So: what ARE all the various things Quentin Coldwater visibly has not processed or unpacked or come to terms with by the end of season 4? Have you made a list?

sure, let’s give this a whirl, shall we?

1. quentin’s death itself - kind of cheating since technically quentin does not come back to life in the show, but the obvious starting point in any post-s4 fic about him. i feel like dying and coming back to life on its own has gotta be messed up in even the best circumstances, possibly unless you do it like penny where you never really have a moment of feeling like you have died. in the softest interpretation of quentin’s death, it was still a violent sudden untimely death, which feels like it adds to that. which is not getting into —

2. the fact that quentin’s death was self-inflicted - i think there’s definite room for ambiguity in considering, like, how suicidal his suicide was, so to speak, all the way from “he walked into the mirror realm planning or at least hoping to die” to, sure, “he sacrificed himself for the greater good and was sorry to die.” that is a reading that fits with the text. my own headcanon-ish take on it, or the reading that makes most sense to me in terms of quentin’s characterization across the show (which to be clear is NOT what the show wants us to think about it), setting aside whatever angle i might find most dramatically useful or interesting explore in a particular story, is somewhere between these two. i think if everett hadn’t shown up, quentin would have walked out of there alive, and when he decided to cast, some part of him felt a real deep sense of relief. i actually read the moment as emotionally pretty analogous to alice niffin-ing out — when niffin!alice says she did it on purpose, i think that’s true, but does that mean she wanted to, exactly, in all the parts of her that didn’t make it to niffinhood? i don’t know, and i don’t think alice really knows, then or ever, which is how i feel about some future quentin looking back and trying to answer for himself the question he asks penny: yes, no, both, kind of, not really, yes but just for a second, no but not strongly enough... and that kind of uncertainty about your own desires and beliefs and motivations at such a crucial juncture is itself something to process. like i said, that’s my own take on it, and the reality of it (despite the show’s protests to the contrary) is ambiguous; what’s not ambiguous is that, uh, quentin made a choice he knew would kill him, and everything we know about quentin suggests that having this information about himself would really fuck him up (and also that some dumb hot chocolate feelings chat in the underworld would not actually be enough to ease his mind on the issue). which leads me to —

3. quentin’s mental health shit, part the first - so, there’s the fact of quentin’s depression which predates the show by ages and which he has now spent four years basically ignoring while getting traumatized repeatedly, and he needs....... something regarding that. meds/therapy convo is for a lot of people the obvious Something, it’s a good Something. i don’t like to be prescriptivist about what Something is, i think a lot about leonard cohen in his 70s being like “yes it turned out that the thing i needed to finally address my lifelong depression was to go through the process of getting ordained as a buddhist monk.” maybe what quentin needs is to get ordained as a buddhist monk. i could buy that. but Something regarding his like everyday ability to be a person in the world, especially considering that he died at what could charitably be described as a low point re: that, he needs. and, also —

4. quentin’s mental health shit, part the second - he needs to process and deal with his own feelings about his fucked up brain and the things that he’s done as a result of it, because there’s the brain stuff, but then there’s also the shame and self-concept and identity issues that have developed around and with the brain stuff, you know? i mean, there is a reason i have written now two stories spanning well over a hundred thousand words in which therapy is suggested to quentin and his response is “hmm. no thanks,” and it’s because the first time we ever meet him, he is in the process of refusing further treatment against a psychiatric professional’s advice! he goes off his meds like 18 hours later and never once in the show shows any inclination of being like, “hm maybe that was a bad idea,” including when magic gets turned off and he picks up smoking as a fun summer hobby instead. we know from the mind palace that quentin’s deepest fears involve his own brain, and there’s a lot of different ways you can read the fact that the cherry on top of the nightmare sunday is the dream-revelation that his illness led him to attack his dad but IMO one of the more obvious ones is that he already thinks of his illness as something that has hurt his dad. he has some real dark feelings about his own mind.

5. quentin’s dad - quentin barely deals at all with his dad’s death before he himself dies, and like — similarly to his death, losing his father in his mid-twenties is something that would be difficult for a long long time in the least-bad situation. for quentin, i think there’s a ton of unresolved shit in the distance between them as two people who loved each other deeply, and knew the other loved him deeply, but didn’t always know how to communicate; i think there’s a lot of internalized shame around making his father’s life difficult by having the mental health problems he did that he hasn’t unpacked; i think that ahead of him there’s like, a lot of unexpressed anger about what his father couldn’t give him & a lot of guilt about that because his father did do his best and is now dead & a lot of grief about the fact that his father will never be around for quentin to heal his side of their relationship. also there’s the fact that, uh, quentin’s dad died because he chose to turn magic back on, and we know from his conversation with julia that he feels conflicted about having made that choice.

6. quentin’s experiences with the monster - almost everything that happens to quentin on the magicians is some degree of traumatizing, but being constantly tormented by an evil demigod wearing the body of your ex-boyfriend who keeps murdering people partly (after 4x05 at least) because you decided you wanted to take on the absolute inevitability of further carnage for the extremely slim chance of somehow saving your rex-boyfriend - that really takes it to the next level, and we can see that this is true in his affect, in the way quentin in season 4 just totally shuts down, in his reckless behavior and even lower instinct for self-preservation.

7. quentin’s experiences on the quest - i’ve said this before, but if you watch season 3 from the mosaic episode on with a focus on tracking quentin’s inner state, the show becomes a grim story of a guy who came face to face with his depression and never really recovered. that’s... a lot, on its own. it’s more when you consider the fact that as far as he knows, he only survived his initial encounter with the depression monster by, uh, fulfilling its darkest ideas about himself, i.e. passing on his pain to someone else (benedict) who died because quentin wasn’t strong enough to handle his shit on his own. that’s not my read of that episode, but i honestly feel like if quentin ever has 5 seconds to think about it that’s gotta be how he feels about it, right? and you can see briefly in season 3 how his anxiety starts ratcheting up about his sense of responsibility towards others on the quest once penny and benedict are both dead. and there’s also the whole thing about how the quest wants him to be cold, which as i have said 9 million times is a very sad thing for him to believe that he never gets to unlearn! all culminating in his decision to stay at blackspire, which —

8. quentin’s hero thing - of all the really baffling choices the show makes, one that i keep coming back to is how they told quite beautifully the story of quentin letting go of his desire to be a hero, culminating in handing alice the leo blade (or... whatever i’m not gonna fact check that. you know what the fuck i mean), and then they uhhhh. i don’t even know what to call it. walked it back? decided he hadn’t actually learned that in a generally applicable way? the season 2 finale is interesting because he does A Hero Thing (stabs a god with a sword), but it happens very unglamorously and feels very much like a decision born out of necessity, but then it leads to magic ending, so... i don’t know what to do with that. but his decision to stay at blackspire is... clearly quentin wanting to be a hero! like, he’s managed to step away from the idea of heroic glory, but veered over instead to heroic martyrdom, which is not really... better. and which eliot saves him from (See Below), only for him to... double down on it a season later by sacrificing his life for real. all of which is A Lot, not even getting into the fact that, like, at some point he’s gotta come up with some justification for being alive other than this, and the show strongly suggests he... hasn’t, yet.

9. yeah, like, eliot? - HOO boy. listen. the act of turning quentin down in and of itself is not morally wrong. if eliot sincerely hadn’t wanted a relationship with quentin after the mosaic, that would be his right, and his rejection doesn’t become a crime just because we know that it actually came from his own issues. i also honestly think eliot thought in the moment that he was shutting this down for the good of both of them and as kindly as he could. he was very wrong about this, but that’s my take. HOWEVER. there are a lot of reasons you can read that conversation in 4x05 as being unintentionally crafted to be particularly hurtful to quentin specifically, the biggest and most obvious one being, uh, “fifty years that were real for you were not real for me” (hurtful in any case but particularly for someone like quentin who has such a sense that one of his problems is he Cares Too Much), and my personal favorite being that the logical implication of “that’s not you,” for quentin, is “the version of yourself that learned to be content with your life as it happened to unfold is not real.” excruciating to hear those things, while also trying to figure out how to emotionally process the memories of a dead wife you never married and a son that was never born! extra excruciating to then have the person who told you “you didn’t matter enough to me to take a chance on” shoot a god because apparently you do matter enough for him to override your life choices, and then get possessed. one of my favorite moments in 4x05 is when quentin tells alice “i loved you, and you couldn’t trust that,” because it’s clearly in there to draw a parallel to the throne room scene for Writing Points, but it’s so wildly inapplicable to any of their 900 break-ups (right before blackspire SHE was the one saying “i know i don’t always seem like it but you’re the one i love”!), that the only plausible in-universe reading of it is that quentin has been stewing miserably on the eliot thing this entire time, only now he can’t even be properly mad at eliot because eliot is possessed by a demigod, so he’s just projecting onto the nearest available screen. i’m obsessed with that. it’s horrible and very sexy and Needs To Be Unpacked

10. see, like all the way down here at the bottom we get to quentin’s mom - idk, his mom is a very critical person (i don’t love using the word “critical” because it often gets used misogynistically but it is the only personality trait we really have for her) who never seems to contact or wonder about her adult son with a longterm history of mental illness, who certainly doesn’t seem to have the same skepticism his father has about the brakebills cover story that he’s studying finance, and who unlike his father is not mentioned when quentin recounts his first hospitalization. like, that can’t be great for him, right? that can’t have nothing to do with him being the way he is. for most people that would rank as a pretty major thing to process. but compared to everything else on the list? idk, man!

that’s... i mean this is not so much my thinking for fic-related reasons, this is just me lying down and trying to get out all my screaming about quentin coldwater, which i honestly feel like is still missing some things. like i kinda think he has not gotten over being an unpopular nerd for what is chronologically still most of his life??? i feel like he has some weird stuff around sex which explains why his reaction to poppy macking on him is basically “i guess this is happening now” which is not, like, an ideal relationship or lack thereof to have with your own body? he doesn’t have a single close friend who does not play a major role in his psychosexual development, and he has no male friends he’s never slept with. i couldn’t even go down the road of residual guilt over being the guy who got magic turned off and therefore in his brain probably responsible for everything that happened after that. the dude’s a mess!!!!!!!!!! i love him more than anything on this stupid earth but his mind is a fucking horrorshow!!!!!!!!!!!!

#the magicians #askbox #i slept poorly the past several nights and my brain decided it's all coming down Today #so this seemed like the right time for this lmao

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aretrothing · 3 years

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I have read a crap ton of Ashes To Ashes fanfic over the past few months so I'd make a post about my overall favourites/recs. Please don't be offended if I've left you out, these are just my general favourites. Feel free to add some more that you enjoy.

Authors

rantandrumour (https://fanfiction.net/u/2044938/rantandrumour). I cannot recommend her page highly enough, I'm not normally a Galex reader by choice (I normally read it for the sake of more Ashes content) but her page is one of the only exceptions. Her fics are at the same time devestating, dark and are some of the best things I've ever read.

theHuntgoeson (https://fanfiction.net/u/1558112/) In a complete U-turn from the above, a lot of this writer's writing is quite light-hearted. A couple are darker but overall she's a lot lighter than rant.

XX-Misty (https://fanfiction.net/u/2374325/) this writer has taken the idea of Ashes To Ashes and run with it all the way into the 90s over multiple fics. This really is Ashes To Ashes continued and it remains one of my favourite series as a whole.

Fics

Sixty Minutes/De reditu Damnatorum by rantandrumour (https://fanfiction.net/s/6604958/1/Sixty-Minutes) (https://fanfiction.net/s/7540675/1/De-reditu-Damnatorum): This set of 2 fics are possibly my most favourite Ashes To Ashes stories and I do not give them that label lightly. I don't want to give any spoilers away but it's absolutely brilliant.

Best Served Cold by theHuntgoeson (https://fanfiction.net/s/5038878/1/Best-Served-Cold): This was the first fic I ever set out to read again, it's the sequel to one of her earlier fics which I haven't read (I don't like reading M-rated stuff much, rant's probably the darkest I've gotten). It makes sense as a standalone though and it's brilliant. I do love reading about Fenchurch East's children.

Operation Christmas Carol by theHuntgoeson (https://fanfiction.net/s/5542071/1/Operation-Christmas-Carol): I know it's not Christmas for another 6 months but if you're in the mood for it this is amazing. I read it for the first time on Christmas Day and loved every single word.

Forever by rantandrumour (https://fanfiction.net/s/5880217/2/Forever) Angsty Chris/Shaz one-shot aka my absolute favourite genre by my favourite writer. Need I say more?

Something Changed by XX-Misty (https://fanfiction.net/s/5053081/1/) I read this one in XX-Misty's series as a standalone, it's beautiful and harrowing. It remains very high on my favourites.

A Love That Is Hopeless by youstupidplonk (https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736538): This was the first fic I ever read on AO3 and it's stuck with me ever since. I love reading fics about the sexualities of the team as Shaz, Ray and Chris are so obviously LGBTQ+ but it's never explicitly mentioned.

Like Ordering A Pizza by HyperPluviophile (Sorry if I spelt that wrong!) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368432) I read this fic just after Christmas 2020 when I was attempting to get my own writing up to publishing standard and I fell in love with it. It's such a good concept and I keep rereading as it's still fresh.

Golden Years by Miss Kittyplank (https://fanfiction.net/s/10073571/1/) Alex is shot and sent back to 1975. It's exactly like actual episodes and there are 6 chapters to enjoy. It's one of the earliest ones I read.

And last but not least...

Grace of God by isabella2004 (https://m.fanfiction.net/s/5955030/1/). This is seriously the crème de la crème of the fanfics I've read. The first line has stuck inside my head so every so often I remember it and re read the chapters because they are SO GOOD. I'm really not a Galex fan/reader but it's fics like this one that make me think that I might be one day.

So yeah, that's a round up of my absolute favourite fanfics. There may be part 2 at some point as I missed out a few but overall my favourites are in there.

Happy reading! (If you choose to)

#long post #ashes to ashes #vetty rants #ive never seen a fic rec post for ashes #so i did one myself

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italiansteebie · 4 years

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Heyylo, hope you're doing well! ❤️ This is a Harringrove request, I've seen a lot of fics with angel Billy (wings and the whole scbang) but only ONE :( fic with angel Steve. I think it would suit our boy, don't you? Maybe you can write an angel Steve + Human Billy or Demon Bills? Please and thank you, love your blog! 🥰

Hi!! thank u so much!! i hope this is good, i've only read one angel!steve fic and i don't really know much on the topic! sorry if it's not quite what you're looking for! i hope you like it anyways 💜💜💜💫

An Angels Wings

No one has ever seen Steve Harrington’s wings. It’s no secret that he’s an angel, his mother is an angel as well, and she flaunted her son from an early age before her husband deemed his wings “Un-manly.” When he was young, Steve’s wings were very large, too big for his body, and the resembled that of a hummingbirds, except quite large, and long in wingspan. The stereotype of white-winged angels was true for most, only the purest of angels got graced with wings of color, and Steve’s were magnificent. In picture from when he proudly flaunted his wings, the blue-green and gold speckled beauties were hard to miss.

They had been dating for a year and Billy has never seen Steve’s wings in person. It’s become his goal to make Steve comfortable enough to show off his wings again. There’s only 3 other angels that reside in Hawkins. Their wings are all white, and Billy doesn’t bother to get to know them. He has the most special angel, in his opinion. Billy is lost in thought when Steve comes home from work. “Hey Bill,” Steve greets with a soft smile, and sits next to him on the couch. He grunts softly as he leans back and puts pressure on his wings. He looks over at Billy with kind eyes, “Bill. I need to ask you something.” Billy gives Steve his full attention, “Yeah?”

Steve’s eyes flash fear for half a second, “I need you to help me unbind my wings. Robin noticed blood today and I don’t want to risk infection.” Steve sniffs, teary after the emotional confession. Billy nods his head, willing to support Steve in whatever he needs but he feels guilty for being excited to see Steve’s wings while he’s in pain. Pushing his thoughts away he turns to Steve and helps him take his shirt off, gasping softly when he sees the blood soaked ace wrap. “Doll, I know why you bind, but wouldn’t you feel much better at least sleeping with them out?” Billy asks gently, pulling at the ace wrap. Steve shakes his head and sniffles, “I would, but I’m scared.” “I know, babe. I’m here for you, what ever you need to do. Right now, we need to get you better.”

Steve starts the unwrapping process, slowly taking the elastic bandage away. The color of his wings starts to peak out behind the wrap, and Billy runs his hand over Steve’s shoulders, relaxing him. The last of the bandage falls into Steve’s lap, and his wings are out for Billy to stare in awe and grief. Steve’s once large and full wings are now small and crushed. There’s an unpleasant cracking sound as Steve unfurls his wings all the way, once they’re spread out Billy can see that the color is just as vibrant as they were in his childhood, but they were small, and feeble looking. Billy is shaken out of his trance when Steve speaks, “Can you grab the cream that's on the bathroom counter? On the left side?” Billy gets up without question and grabs the container, its label isn’t in English, it’s not in any language Billy can recognize.

Steve grabs it from his hands, opens it and takes a generous scoop. He reaches to his back and spreads it over the cracked skin as best he can. Billy watches as the cream starts to glow, and the cracked skin begins mending itself, the process is almost beautiful. Watching his lover surrounded in calming purple light as he his healed. “The cream only works in the hands of an angel, the language is an ancient dialect that isn’t spoken by any one except the angels that still live in the original village in The Netherlands.” Steve reveals, “I hope I never have to use it on you,” he says. Billy hushes him and re-assures him that he will never have to.

The process of healing is over and Steve reaches for his bandage and begins to wrap, starting with his chest. “What if,” Billy starts, grabbing Steve’s hand gently to stop him wrapping any further, “What if an hour everyday at home, you leave your wings out?” Steve looks unsure at the idea, but agrees.

Weeks pass by and the hour of free wings turns into 2, and then 5, and then sleeping un wrapped, and then spending weekends free, and so forth. After 6 months and few therapy sessions, attendance requested by Billy, Steve now flaunts his wing proudly again, and uses his angel abilities as much as he needs too. It’s fun for him, he can heat food up without using the microwave, and heal the kids scrapes and bruises. And then, the healing power is not so fun. On one of Steve’s days off, Billy goes into town to buy groceries for dinner. After about an hour Steve gets a frantic call from Max, she’s calling from a landline near Mirkwood, and Billy’s hurt. Neil found him at the grocery store, and Steve come quick, please. I’m scared. Steve drops the phone and runs out the door, he hasn't tried flying in a very long time, but with the adrenaline pumping he forgets his hesitations.

He finds Billy in 30 seconds, and lands haphazardly, asphalt cracks beneath his feet. Max runs over to him, tears steadily streaming down her face, “Please help him, Steve. I don’t know what to do.” Steve runs over to where Billy is propped up against the Camaro, the puddle of blood makes Steve pause for a second, but he shakes the fog from his head. In his haste he forgot the healing cream but he knows he has the power to heal alone. He presses again Billy’s wound, Steve acknowledges it as a stab wound, and presses firmly. The veins in his hand glow light purple, and the golden spots scattered on his wing illuminate with the same color. Steve breaths in through his nose, and pushes his energy through his wings into his hand into Billys side. The wound spasms, and Billy grunts and jumps in pain, “Pretty boy, I don’t know if that’s gonna work. I’m too far...” Steve hushes him, and takes another breath, the light purple moves into a deep blue, and the wound starts to heal. The glow from the action draws a crowd and townsfolk watch in awe as the wound is reversed.

Billy is healed, the wound is gone without a scar, and Steve collapses in fatigue. “Steve? Steve, baby. Wake up,” Billy says, patting his face softly. Steve opens his eyes, and cracks a smile, “There he is. There’s my guardian angel.” Billy says. He leans in to kiss Steve once the crowd has dispersed and just Max is left. They share another passionate kiss, “Never. Make me do that again. Okay?” Steve says sternly. Billy laughs, he’s not planning to.

#my writing #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #angel!steve #angel!steve harrington #angel!au #prompt fill #herethegay

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carynsilver · 4 years

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Favorite Fics: Drarry Edition

Like I mentioned last time, reading has been a big comfort to me with all this craziness and sheltering at home, so I want to pay it forward and send love to some of the writers whose work has been brightening my quarantine. Thanks, guys!

For this list, we’re leaving the MCU for a while and heading over to the Wizarding World. I liked Harry Potter when it came out, but I never really read much fanfic until I realized a couple of years ago how much a redeemed Draco fit into the redemption trope that I loved in Harringrove, LoVe, SnowBaz, and other fandoms and ships. Once I started perusing the fics out there, I realized that one of the strengths of this fandom is the length and quality of the stories. I love stories that are a meal, and Drarry provides so many!

As I’ve gotten into the ship (so many years late, lol), these are my top 10 favorites.

dirtynumbangelboy by @magpiefngrl

This is probably the Drarry fic that I most enjoy. I come back to it fairly often when I need just a good read in the HP world. Fake dating is one of my absolute favorite tropes, which made this one an automatic win for me, but it’s written with such heart. I really, really love Draco in this fic. His uni studies and his flat being so different from the diffident image he projects. This is also probably the best Astoria I’ve ever read. Also--Jam Today! Read it now!

Do It All Over Again by DracoWillHearAboutThis

I only discovered this series earlier this year, and I’ve already read it at least three times from beginning to end. It’s a re-telling of the original series starting from Book 1. Draco sends himself a letter from the future basically saying that his dad is wrong, and he needs to give up his pure blood ideals and befriend Harry, then--boom--the Golden Trio’s adventures all happen with Draco in tow (and eventual romance, of course). The plot is fairly similar to the actual series, but I am there for the angst and the character growth. Narcissa kicks ass in this ‘verse, and Draco/Hermionie as besties is a treat! Book 4 and Book 6 are both amazing. And her titles are hilarious. This is the only series on my list that is still a WIP, but there’s plenty to read. Books 1 - 6 are complete, and a new chapter for 7 comes out every two weeks. It’s a safe bet so far, and it’s so good--why wait?

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587

In this fic, Draco takes a job as Potions Professor at Hogwarts after getting divorced under horrible circumstances and renews his acquaintance with Harry, who is the DADA Professor. It’s got a bisexual awakening, and manages to combine friends with benefits with some supreme pining. Like a whole pine forest. Thunderbird587′s Draco POV is so fleshed out, and yet it also lets us see how Harry is pining, even when Draco himself doesn’t. Plus, at over 200K, it is long enough to get lost in for ages, which is perfect right about now. And when you finish the main fic, there are three other ancillary fics, two in Harry’s POV that take place during the main one. The cufflinks one is my favorite, but the writing is so good that I even thoroughly enjoyed the third sub-fic that fleshed out an OC. So, so worth the read--all of it!

The Foundations!verse by Saras_Girl

All of the fics by Saras_Girl are great. You can’t go wrong with any of them. But Reparations, Foundations, and all the little one-shots after are my favorite. It honestly surprised me at first, because alcoholism is a trigger for me, but this fic actually helped me realize that it’s the addiction part, the fall to rock bottom that triggers me. Recovery stories are different. And, I guess, this one is a bit different in that, though it has plenty of characters recovering, Draco himself is actually in a healthy place and facilitating recovery without relapsing. Harry is a Healer in this one, which is not the usual, and I quite enjoy his other relationships in this ‘verse, as well. He, Ron, and Hermione’s friendship is great in this one (their pub nights crack me up), but I also really like Harry’s friends at St. Mungo’s. My second favorite Terry Boot ever, and two awesome OC chicks. And the process of Drarry going from can’t stand each other to in love is slow and prickly and yet really believable. Oh, and Harry and Narcissa’s relationship in this one is just fabulous.

Golden Age by zeitgeistic (faire_weather)

The Hufflepuff in me was bound to fall in love with this fic. I really enjoy Eighth Year fics, especially the ones that embrace inter-house unity (shouldn’t have taken them a war to see the need for that!). This one takes it to a new level when everyone in... I think it was 6th - 8th years were resorted at the welcome feast, and the whole 8th year dynamic is shaken up. Harry, Draco and Neville become Hufflepuffs; Hermione and Pansy become Ravenclaws; Ginny becomes a Slytherin; and somehow Ron and Blaise are the ones who stay in their houses because the hat thinks they are basically the uber Gryffindor and Slytherin. But with the rest of them, we get to see them embrace other facets of their personalities, which is super interesting. And then, after the resorting, we find out that Hufflepuffs have a whole different world going on that basically no one outside their house knows about, and that world is brilliant. Even Hufflepuff food in the Great Hall is different! Everyone would enjoy this story, I think, but if you are a ‘Puff, you really, truly should not miss it. And if you like this one, check out some of zeitgeistic’s other works. Her world building is fabulous.

Life skills outside the curriculum by Endrina

In this fic, Harry gets fed up with the Dursleys before his 11th birthday and runs away before he gets his Hogwarts letter. He ends up on the streets and somehow embraces this kind of instinctual magic that is really fascinating. A few years later, Draco runs away rather than get involved more closely with the Dark Lord, and of course they meet up. This whole fic is super compelling. Harry’s world view and the way people gravitate toward him even without chosen one status. Also, this fic has one of my favorite versions of Remus and Sirius ever. I really wish there was a part two that went in depth on everything that happened after the end of this one, but even on its own it is so worth the read. And everything is wrapped up. I’m just greedy and would’ve loved more. :-)

A Convenient Impracticality by @firethesound

This fic combines friends with benefits and fake dating into a really enjoyable story. Harry is so oblivious, but it all works out in the end. And Draco is a secret mastermind, but in a good way. So is Hermione. Unlike some of the other, angstier stories on my list, this one is so fun, and I love it. And if you like it, check out more of firethesound’s work, as well. It’s worth it!

you’ve got the antidote for me by kandakicksass

And then, back on the angst train, lol. Soulmates, red string of fate, rejected bond = terminal disease. Whew! There’s a lot to unpack in this one, but after I read it, I never forgot it. I read a lot of fic in a lot of fandoms, and I always know a story is going to become a favorite if it stands out so much that I remember it later and think about it. That surely happened here.

(We’ll Call This Fixer-Upper) Home by phdmama

This is one of the first fics I read on my first Drarry binge, and I’ve always remembered it. Just like I love Eighth Year and Hogwarts professor fics, I also love fics where they have really unexpected jobs--pretty much anything other than Aurors. In this one, Harry is an artist/photographer and Draco is an up-and-coming rock star. The music and art, the creativity is important in this fic, but it also really looks at Draco’s recovery after the war in ways I haven’t read since, and I’m also a sucker for our favorite characters actually addressing and recovering from their trauma.

Boom Clap (The Sound of My Heart) by @femmequixotic and noeon (noe)

This fic takes the Eighth Year trope to the next level. Draco, Harry, Hermione, and some other faves are teaching fellows at Hogwarts. Junior professors, kind of. It read like if the HP crew went to college. And, of course, Draco and Harry fall in love along the way, but not without much angst and obliviousness. I really enjoy the Draco POV in this. His worries and anxieties feel so real for that stage in his life, but amped up because of the past. This was one I read, never forgot, and then had to go back and find so i could read it again.

So, those are my top 10, but there is lots of other good Drarry out there--both from these authors and all the others in the ship and the fandom. Thanks for all the writing you guys do.

Oh, and tagging @virtual-insomnia, but only because she said she might want to make some quarantine fic lists of her own. :-)

#drarry #fanfic rec #fanfic #reading #highly recommend #harry x draco #draco malfoy #harry potter #quarantine reads #thanks for writing these fics

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