novembersmith: (Default)
This is for my darling, [ profile] softlyforgotten: a very very belated birthday gift (I started it thinking it'd be possibly 5000 words. AHAHAHA.) Mik, it is possible that no one else in the world will find this the slightest bit appealing, but I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Title: Carrying Dangerous Goods
Fandom: Generation Kill/Temeraire
Pairings: Brad/Ray, Brad/OFC, Ray/OMC+one Temeraire character
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~46,000

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

Summary: From the Signal Code of the Royal Navy and His Majesty's Aerial Corps: B, or Bravo -- I am taking in, or discharging, or carrying dangerous goods.
Author's Note: This is a story about Ray and Brad growing up together. Also, there are dragons.


Okay, so basically I shoved the GK boys into 19th century Napoleonic England, added Naomi Novik's dragons, shook vigorously, and then RAN LIKE THE HELL hoped for the best. I tried to keep the dialogue as true to the characters AND to the period as possible, probably with mixed success. There's no spoilers for the Generation Kill series within; there is for the Temeraire universe, however, particularly the third book, Black Powder War, though most of the events of the books happen outside the parameters of this fic.

If you are unfamiliar with the Temeraire universe, basically the premise is this: humanity has always co-existed with an intelligent species of dragons, who form strong bonds with individuals, their captains, and were an instrumental part of the British military during the Napoleonic wars (and, uh, other wars, too, but that is not entirely relevant at the moment). Hopefully the fic is mostly self-explanatory, but there are a few key facts to keep in mind: one being that dragons choose their captains upon leaving the shell, and another being that the Aerial Corp is in some ways very different from average British society of the time. For example, one particularly important breed of dragon, the Longwing, which spits acid and was often crucial to military endeavors, would only take on female captains. Yes. The Corps has female military captains, with full equivalency to any male in any other part of the military. You can imagine this would cause a bit of a to-do in traditional 19th century British society, so it was kept a bit hush-hush unless absolutely necessary.

If there are any questions re: the Temeraire universe or draconic terminology, this wiki should help.

If there are any questions re: 19th century British slang, this e-book from Project Gutenburg should help. (PS THEY USED TO CALL THE PENIS A SUGAR STICK. JSYK, I AM HUGELY AMUSED. I HAVE LEARNED SO MUCH WRITING THIS FIC.)

Also, now is the time I heap thanks on a billion people. Tons of you have read snippets and sometimes the entire shebang, and were utterly fantastic, and much thanks to you all, but I'd like to specifically thank [ profile] laliandra, [ profile] shiningartifact, and [ profile] brimtoast[ profile] laliandra was a total darling and agreed to help me brit-pick this monster, despite having no idea who any of the GK boys are. I heart her forever. [ profile] brimtoast, beta extraordinaire, who pointed out numerous typographical and pacing issues, and poked me until I elaborated on both plot and porn. Thank you for your pithy, insightful comments, as ever, bbdoll. And [ profile] shiningartifact, who held my hand every step of the way and convinced me this wasn't all a load of total twaddle, and was a fantastic beta besides. I cannot thank any of them enough.

Also, one day there will likely be a sequel. One day. ONE DAY. I have it plotted out and everything, But, um, don’t hold your breath, because it will be a while for sure. :|
novembersmith: (Default)
fOkay, so, I was filling a drabble prompt over at [ profile] we_pimpin, the Ray Person Appreciation community (because Ray is the motherfucking answer, in case you didn't know already), and somehow this happened instead. I don't even know.

Title: Take Two Marines (And Call Me In The Morning)
Fandom: Generation Kill
Rating/Pairing: Brad/Nate/Ray, NC-17.
Notes/Thanks: This takes place right after Ray leaves the football field in the Bomb in the Garden episode, and is my version of fix-it fic. I wanted to give Ray a giant hug at the end of the show, and, so. Uh. Instead I wrote him a threesome, which is like a hug, but better? ...WHAT, RAY WOULD TOTALLY THINK SO. LEAVE ME ALONE.

Also, this wouldn't have been possible without the cheerleading and magnificent beta-work of [ profile] shiningartifact and [ profile] brimtoast. Seriously, it would all be nonsense and porn gibberish without them. <3<3<3

ay, there's the rub )
novembersmith: (Default)
So, the following entry is bound to be entirely self-indulgent and rambling. I doubt it will make much sense. I just finished watching Generation Kill for the second time. For those not in the know, Generation Kill is an HBO mini-series based on Evan Wright's book on the Iraq War, and the First Battalion Recon Marines who were there at the start of it. This is not at all my typical fare. I am not a military buff. Any yet, and yet. I am not entirely sure what prompted me to watch this series--a flist of a flist had a fic posted, and I got intrigued by the small but passionate fandom. Plus, not to be entirely shallow, but the actors are, in my humble opinion, painfully gorgeous. But as I think many of us know, you don't actually have to watch/read the source material to enjoy a fandom. But I did anyway, and by the end of the first episode, I was irrevocably hooked.

To anyone that happens to read this: watch Generation Kill. )

And if all that's not enough? The show's also slashy as hell. So get you hence, gentle readers. It's pretty fucking ninja.


novembersmith: (Default)

May 2010



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