#eduardo sandoval x reader

[cositapreciosa]

hiii i love ur work and i was wondering if you can make a fluff one shot/imagine with eduardo sandoval? fem reader if that’s fine! pls and ty 😭😭😭 hes very underrated

Mañana por la mañana

Eduardo Sandoval x gn!reader, (no warnings, a bit of implied smut, being disgustingly in love?) 2401 words

a/n : throws some more Eduardo at you guys like you are unfed pigeons / this one was a rollercoaster, sometimes you have to : fuck it, and ball. He's so hot in this gif omg also thanks babe hope you like it!!

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

The sunlight is soft in the kitchen this morning, a gentle glow that makes you thankful to have gotten up at the same time as Eduardo. He has a habit of always leaving before you, barely crossing his path for 15 minutes every morning before he rushes to the car, a brief kiss landing on the corner of your lips as the door closes. Today should have been like every other day, but with so many running stories and new deadlines, you felt that going to work early might give you a fighting chance with the elections coming up.

The tiles are cold under your feet, you knew you should have fought harder for hardwood floor, but Eduardo was adamant that tiles belonged in a kitchen. You fill up the coffee machine with water, turning around to search for the coffee itself when you see Eduardo entering the room. His hair is still damp from the shower, wearing his shirt without his blazer, tie loose around his neck.

'' I hope I didn’t wake you up. ''

'' Not at all. ‘’ you answer back, head still in a cupboard, '' People are getting crazy at work, they want everything covered on all fronts. It’s a nightmare really. ''

He hmms, opening the refrigerator. After a second, he looks back at you again, puzzled.

'' What are you doing? ''

You sigh, leaning back against the countertop.

'' I don’t remember where we said we would put the coffee. You always make it, I wanted to do it this time. ''

He laughs, putting the two eggs he took from the refrigerator on the kitchen island, making sure they don’t roll off with his hand. You raise your leg, pushing his shin slightly with your foot.

'' Don’t laugh at me! You couldn’t remember the gate password for days! ''

Building a house together was the next easy step in your relationship. For financial and security reasons, this suburb not too far from town, in a safe neighbourhood, had proved to be exactly what you both wanted. His hand reaches for your side as he fights back, one finger poking at your rib.

'' Well, my old place wasn’t fancy enough for a gate, let alone a password, okay? ''

It was indeed probably one of the smallest two-bedroom apartment you had ever seen. His hand then grips your t-shirt, tugging you to him as you fake resisting his embrace.

'' Say ‘pretty please, my husband, you are the best and I adore you’, and I’ll make you a cup. ''

Your nose wrinkles,

'' I will not. That is blackmail, Mr. Bodyguard, and I can’t lie, I’m not a liar. ''

He groans, letting you go as he moves closer, putting his hand on the counter beside you, the other one stretching behind your head to open a cabinet.

'' I don’t bodyguard. '' He shakes the coffee bag in front of your eyes, '' It’s Head of Security, by the way. ''

You can’t stop the smile that pulls at your lips, the pride that bubbles in your chest. He deserves it, the title, the promotion, after so much hard work he puts in every day.

'' I know, amor. I’m proud of you. ''

You feel his tie on your chin as he leans to kiss your forehead. He takes a few steps back toward the coffee machine, pointing a finger in your direction.

'' Watch out because when I become President, I’ll make it illegal for pretty journalists like you to be that annoying early in the morning. ''

You roll your eyes, putting your arms over your head as you stretch. He is smiling again, proud of his joke, and you notice how he bites his cheek when his eyes land on the sliver of skin under your t-shirt,

'' Pretty please, husband, just make the damn coffee, will you? ''

You take a seat behind the kitchen island, facing him as he lets out a chuckle. You know that if you try to cook with him, try to take the pan from his hand, Eduardo would only tell you to sit back down. After a few minutes, he pushes you a warm cup of coffee, exactly how you like it, and a plate of huevos pericos across the counter. You lean toward him, and Eduardo joins you in the middle, letting you press a small kiss on his cheek.

You two eat in silence, enjoying the company, soaking in the smell of this new home. Even if tells you about all the meetings he has today, you can see it, how he barely touches his plate and plays around with his fork. You know he feels bad about not being home for dinner most nights, that he wishes he’d be able to help you unload all those boxes still taped up from the move. He does make up for it in many ways, even if you know he’s not noticing it. You knew that taking this promotion would ask more of him, of you, and of your relationship, but you also knew that his work was important to him, as he knew your career was to you. Maybe that was why being together had worked for so long now.

'' You’re not working too much if it’s what you’re thinking. ''

He looks up from his plate mid-bite, meeting your eyes. He swallows hard, pushing it down with a sip of coffee.

'' I know, I just- '' His hand reaches for yours across the counter, '' You do a lot for us, and I wish I could do the same sometimes. ''

His thumb rubs your wrists, slow, soft motions,

'' You just need to learn how this new position works, when you’ll start to feel comfortable in your new shoes everything will fall into place. ''

You keep eating in silence for a while. You can feel you touched something sensible from how he leans back to his side, keeping his eyes on his plate. It hasn’t been easy, in the beginning, when you started to go out together. It wasn’t anything serious at first, and him sneaking into your bed late at night or not calling for days did not seem like such a big deal. Until it was, until you realized how you always came second, until you realized you were not going to settle for that, especially if he expected you to be loyal to him to a certain degree.

You know he remembers the last time he had been promoted, how that time he wasn’t able to separate life and work. You had sat him down one night, one of the first evenings he had been joining you for dinner that week. I will leave you, you had said, I can’t keep doing this, I can’t allow it, Eduardo. That night, it didn’t end well, somewhere between screaming and crying, losing your cool, his endless explanations. After hours of silent tears and shaky breaths, you eventually fell asleep on the couch, the thought of feeling his warmth next to your pillow making your heart ache.

You pick up your plate, making your way around the kitchen island. Your hand gently met his forearm, cold fingers against his burning skin.

'' Talk to me, yeah? I can see you’re thinking too hard. ''

It is meant as a joke, something to lighten up the mood. Eduardo shakes his head, his opposite hand moving to rest on top of yours, his palm caressing your knuckles.

'' It’s nothing. It’s stupid really. ''

He turns to you, picking the plates from your hands, pushing off your attempt at getting something out of him. He sends a small smile your way as he walks to the sink, it’s fine, it means, don’t mind me, as he puts the dishes at the bottom, turning on the tap to give them a rinse. Discussion over.

The sound of the water hitting the cutlery fills the silence. You move behind him to set your now empty coffee cup next to the soap dispenser. A gentle way to ask him to clean this too and he does. Quick to keep busy, making sure the mug is placed with the pile of dirty plates, already working on washing them. With a small sigh, you lean on his back, hands moving around his ribs and up his chest, resting on his sternum. You can smell his cologne, the one he uses on days he has important meetings, the one he keeps buying because he knows you like it so much. Your head falls between his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to the cotton covering his skin.

'' You know I won’t let you go until you talk to me, hm? ''

He laughs, you can feel his chest contract with the sound, and that makes you happy, that he is not mad at you, even if you already know he wouldn’t. Eduardo keeps scrubbing at the dishes and you know he’s thinking again, trying to figure out what is the best way to explain how he feels. You know he’s got it when after a while he stops the water, bracing his hands on the edge of the sink, whatever is left dirty will have to be done this evening. He gently leans back in your embrace, your nose touching his hair. His curls are still damp, they smell like your conditioner.

'' I don’t want you to leave me. ''

It’s a murmur, so softly spoken. A secret shared between you and him, vulnerable and out in the open. Your fingers are running along the seams of his dress shirt, up and down, trying to be comforting.

'' Why would you think that? ''

It’s a genuine question to his answer, one you didn’t expect this morning. You have always been able to fix things between you. Taking the time to communicate, share your secrets, talk about your feelings, making it work.

'' I’m not sure, I just… '' He sighs '' Last time really scared me, that’s all. I want you to be happy here, with me. ''

Last time. It clicks then, that one night when you almost called it quit. I will leave you. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t allow it, Eduardo. You didn’t think your words would stay with him that way. Didn’t think much of it the morning after too, after he had gently shaken you awake from the couch, hot coffee in hand, just how you like it. He had slipped the warm ceramic in your hands and you had tugged him with you on the couch, watching the Saturday morning news in comfortable silence, feets touching under the blanket.

'' Amor… '' You sigh against his back, wrapping your arms more tightly around him. You hate when he feels like this, unworthy, useless. '' I am happy here, especially with you. ''

He nods, a hand raises from the counter, intertwining your fingers with his. You can feel the wrinkles on his skin from the soap.

'' You would tell me, yeah? If it didn’t feel right for you anymore. ''

You hmm, swaying from side to side slowly, bringing him with you in the movement. You are not saying much after that. You can hear the cars passing in front of the house, children babbling on their way to school. You would tell him if any of this wasn’t working for you anymore, like you had done in the past, as you would again if needed.

'' Te amo. ''

It slips out of your lips, muffled in his shirt. You can feel him exhale in your arms, feel the weight come off his shoulders.

'' I love you so much, Eduardo. I hope you know that. ''

'' I do. '' He whispers back, '' Y yo a ti, cariño. ''

You are smiling against him, giddy from the words even after all those years. You know it is getting late, that he should be on his way already, but you don’t want him to leave, soaking in his warmth, how good he smells.

'' I have to go, I can’t be late today. ''

'' We wouldn’t want that. ''

He laughs, bubbling from his chest, you know he can hear the sarcasm dripping from your tongue. He turns around in your embrace. One hand moving behind your head, playing with a strand of hair, following down your neck.

'' I can tell you don’t care. I’m not freelance, they don’t forgive tardiness easily. ''

'' Well, I’m sorry if I want to keep you all to myself. ''

His hands slide under your shirt, pressing at the small of your back, bringing you to him. His fingers are hot on your skin, denting the space above your hips. You are in between his legs now, hands on his chest, heart pumping. The light is soft through the window, colouring his eyes in honey, and suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe properly. His eyes fixed on yours, lips parted, he can’t look away.

'' You’re the one starting this. '' However he wants to call it, this, that. The way his fingers caress your ribs, thumbs following your waistline to the top of your pants. It is meant as a warning to him, one weak of any real consequences, a decision that should be logical given the time. '' You can’t blame me. ''

If he keeps going further you mean. You want him to, you know he shouldn’t, he can’t.

'' Maybe I can meet you for lunch then? ''

His palms slide to your hips, tugging on the soft material of your pyjamas, you are so close you can feel him against you.

'' We could make that work. How long’s your break? ''

'' 45 minutes. '' He breathes in, pupils blown. '' I’m sure I can stretch it to an hour. ''

You smile as he leans in, his lips brushing on yours.

'' We can make that work. ''

As long as you’re on the same page, you think, you know, you can make this work. The tiles are cold under your feet, the sun burning on your shoulder, his breath warm on your cheek. And then, his lips finally touch yours, a goodbye, a promise for later as you kiss him back, hungry for more. Te amo.

[the-hinky-panda]

🌹 if you have anything for ‘the florist’ ! 😊

I am so sorry, but I don't have anything for The Florist. I have something for The Finca though so hopefully that will suffice.

They made it through the week. No one was harmed. No property was damaged. It was a rousing success and Eduardo indulges in a rare glass of brandy with César their last night in Cali. They’re sitting in the hotel room suite's common room, quietly lost in their own thoughts, when César breaks the silence. 

“I think we should stop at that finca again.” 

It takes Eduardo a couple mental replays to comprehend what was said. “Taking the same route back to Bogotá is not exactly the safest choice.” 

César shrugs. “So we take a different route there. Maybe take a pass through Honda?” 

Eduardo gives him a stern look over the brandy glass. “We don’t have time for that.” 

“But we should make time for it.” 

“For what exactly?” 

“Family.” César swirls the liquid in his glass and takes a drink. “The more time I spend away from my family, the more I realize their importance. The partnership and support of a spouse, the hopeful reminder of children and the future. They’re a compass in the middle of the storm. Don’t you think so?” 

[goodnitedrdead]

Hello, honey bears! I just wanted to pop by and say hi and see how everyone’s doing! I also want to let you guys know that I’m accepting requests and/or any other type of interaction. Enjoy this looped gif of seungmin <3

I know most (if not all) of you are probably not kpop fans but I didn’t know what gif to attach to my post… and seeing as I have a kpop icon I thought it’d be fitting 😭

[goodnitedrdead]

Pick a prompt and character (I’ll leave them in the tags) and I’ll happily write a lil something for them!

I live in Texas and rn my city’s having an existential crisis because there’s a freeze warning and we never get those and everyone still has PTSD from the freeze from last year-ish where the whole state’s power grid shut down so.. I HAVE NOTHING TO DO AND NO WORK TOMORROW SO PLS 🙏🏼

List of “and now we’re underneath the mistletoe” prompts

“Not with you!” 

“I am not kissing you.” “Too bad. It’s tradition.”

“You break the tradition and you end up being cursed for life. Is that what you want?” “…Are you blackmailing me right now?” 

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long but not like this.”

“Where’s your mother? I’d rather kiss her.” 

“I finally get to have an excuse to kiss you.”

“What, do you think I want to be doing this with you?”

“Fuck, let’s just get this over and done with.” … “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” 

“You slipped a tongue in there, you fucking—” “Well, you were making weird noises so clearly you enjoyed that.” 

After they part, Character B stares at Character A, then breathlessly says, “I think we should take this elsewhere.” 

“Too close,” Character A whispers, swallowing as their eyes slip a little further down and land on Character B’s lips. “Not close enough,” Character B says, softly, before pressing their lips against Character A’s. 

“Now who the fuck placed this thing here?!” “Me. I did. I placed it here.” 

“Can I kiss you?” “You don’t even have to ask.” 

“Wait, is this really happening? I’m kind of panicking right now because I wasn’t expecting our first to happen like this.” 

“I can’t tell if I’m already drunk or what but I’m really happy to end up under here… With you.” 

[cregan-starks]

B E H O L D E N

Summary: Beholden follows Agent Magnussen’s journey with the DEA during the War on Drugs, spanning from Félix Gallardo’s reign in Mexico to Escobar and the Cali godfathers in Colombia, and beyond.

Ao3 | Inspo | Headcanons

MEXICO

Prologue: Leyenda

Chapter 1: Colibri

Chapter 2: Rookie

Chapter 3: Taquito

Chapter 4: TBA

AUs

Lacuna [Javier Peña x OC]

END THE WAR ON DRUGS: Equity Organization & Drug Policy Alliance

[ashlingnarcos]

THE DEAL

a narcos tv fandom sideblog, reblogs from ashlingiswriting

you can call me Ashling, she/her

askbox is open ;)

join the narcos fandom forever chat! (discord invite, our tumblr)

READERFIC

no witness // Walt Breslin/Reader, 2.4k, on tumblr

he keeps his rules. you keep him. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, 1.1k, on tumblr, on AO3

blood on vacation // David Barrón/Reader, 1.8k, on tumblr

blood, horses, postponed // Andrea Nuñez/Reader, ficlet on AO3

play the refrain // Hector “Güero” Palma x Reader, 5k, on tumblr, on AO3

take it // Javier Peña/Reader, 2.1k, on tumblr, on AO3

Bride’s Choice // Benjamín Arellano Félix/Reader, ficlet on tumblr

sequel: Bride’s Delight // Benjamín/Reader, 2k on tumblr

open gate // Javier Peña/Reader, 5.1k, on tumblr, on AO3

cauterize. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, 3.6k, chapter one on AO3, on tumblr

I’ll come back for you // Benjamín Arellano Félix/Reader, ramble turned to fic, on tumblr

last rites. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, 4.8k, on AO3, on tumblr

he is not dead. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, ficlet, on AO3, on tumblr

The Dancer // Narcojuniors/F!Reader, Benjamín & Reader, 1.8k, on AO3, on tumblr

Dinamita // Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada/F!reader, 2.2k, on tumblr

North Star // Enedina Arellano Félix/Reader, 1.3k, on AO3, on tumblr

FANFIC

two tests // Carrillo & Trujillo & Calderoni crossover ficlet

what we do now // Feistl x Van Ness post-canon ficlet

self-elegy of the latehomecomer // David Barrón character study, 1k, on AO3

survivor’s forgiveness // César Gaviria/Eduardo Sandoval angst, 1.3k, on AO3, on tumblr

portrait of hunter in exile. // Horacio Carrillo character study, 2.1k, on AO3, on tumblr

Unfinished Business // Enedina Arellano Félix/Isabella Bautista infidelity and under-negotiated kink, 3.7k, on AO3

not right/not enough // Horacio Carrillo/Javier Peña, ficlet, on AO3, on tumblr

one shell casing // Güero & Chapo angst, 1.4k, on AO3, on tumblr

you’re sharp all right // Walt character study, 1k, on AO3

RANDOM

Meta

Incorrect Narcos: Mexico Quotes

a softer Narcos

Who’s Your Narcos Mexico Match (short version) // on uQuiz

THE DRUG WAR

I used to only have a link to NORML here in favor of weed decriminalization, but tbh the real life drug war is beyond complicated and I feel ridiculous talking policy on a fandom blog. Let’s not do that. This is not real life, this is me watching footage of Alberto Guerra smirking at Mayra Hermosillo.

[aion-rsa]

Infinite Frontier and What’s Next for the DC Universe

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

DC Comics released a first look at its March comics, the first batch after the end of the multiverse-spanning Dark Nights: Death Metal and the pause-everything company wide reset Future State, and from our first glimpse of the solicitations, the big changes coming in Future State look like they might be sticking around. 

With the sheer volume of change that DC underwent in the last year – new distributors, new release days, personnel changes, cancellations and FanDomes included – there was a lot of speculation about the future of the comics line. This first batch of solicitations provide an interesting answer to that speculation. It looks like, post-Future State, DC’s changing everything. By keeping some things the same.

Here are our biggest takeaways…

It All Counts

Dark Nights: Death Metal #6 features a big twist where Wonder Woman powers up for the final battle with The Batman Who Laughs by reactivating all of DC’s past continuity. YES, that’s ridiculous, but it’s also awesome: the DC Universe contains 80+ years of stories, and they’re never, ever better than when they are playing around in what’s come before. 

So while Future State is a look forward at what’s to come for the DC Universe, the most exciting part of what follows is how much it takes in what came before:

Justice League, by Brian Michael Bendis and David Marquez, is bringing in Black Adam, clearly following up on recent events in Endless Winter.

Batman: Urban Legends is full of cuts both fresh and deep, with Matthew Rosenberg and Ryan Benjamin continuing the story of Wildstorm’s Grifter in Gotham, while Brandon Thomas and Max Dunbar start an old-school Outsiders story with Katana, Metamorpho and Black Lightning. 

Suicide Squad kicks off a new run from Robbie Thompson and Eduardo Pansica with Peacemaker. The last time he was hanging with the Squad was in John Ostrander and Kim Yale’s classic run. 

And the Crime Syndicate makes its return with a limited series by Andy Schmidt and Kieron McKown with a blend of the classic team (with an Ultraman origin backup from Bryan Hitch) and the Trinity War era Syndicate – Atomica is one of the newest additions to the team.  

You’ve also got plenty of forward-looking stories, starting with the big one kicking it all off. Infinite Frontier #0 is the jam book spearheaded by Josh Williamson, but with samples from much of the rest of the DCU, functioning the same way that DC: Rebirth #0 did. It’s got some of Joelle Jones’ new Wonder Woman; some of Becky Cloonan and Michael Conrad’s new status quo for Diana; and the next big move for the Joker spinning out of Joker War.

New Faces

Hands down the most exciting part of Future State is all the new blood brought in to create the books, and seeing them carry over to the main DCU is invigorating. New blood means new perspectives, and new perspectives can completely turn the old superhero formula on its head.

Also, some of these creative teams are bonkers. Wes Craig (Deadly Class) doing a Superman story in the Red & Blue anthology! Mariko Tamaki (Wonder Woman) and Dan Mora (Once & Future) on Detective Comics! Tom Taylor on a Nightwing he can’t kill! Presumably.

But we’re also getting new faces in the books. Ram V, maybe the hottest writer DC has at the moment, is sticking with his Future State: Swamp Thing collaborator Mike Perkins to put a new face in the Green: Levi Kamei is the new Swamp Thing in the main DCU.

Red X, Dick Grayson’s other secret identity from the various Teen Titans cartoons, is making his comics debut in Future State: Teen Titans, and Tim Sheridan and Rafa Sandoval are going to keep using him when we get back to normal continuity.

Damian Wayne is getting a new costume in Williamson and Gleb Melinkov’s story, “Demon and Detective,” running as a backup in Batman and Detective Comics.

And then there’s the book I can’t actually order fast enough: Gene Luen Yang (Superman Smashes the Klan and The Terrifics) and Ivan Reis (like, everything big from DC for the last half-decade, including some awesome Aquaman and Superman) diving into the multiverse for Batman/Superman, introducing three villains from the old movie serials as Batman and Superman nemeses from parallel Earths. It’s so beautiful!

Plenty to Sample

DC’s anthologies seem to have been successful enough that they’re going to keep putting them out. Batman: Black & White continues to be Eisner-bait, and DC is trying to transfer some of that magic over to Superman: Red & Blue, which will run short stories by prestige creators that use only those two colors. Meanwhile, Batman: Urban Legend looks like another chance for multiple creative teams to tell quick hit stories that are either artistic experiments, backdoor “pilots” for future books, or tryouts for up and coming creatives.

And many other regular titles – Batman, Superman, Action Comics, Detective Comics, Wonder Woman, to name a few – are coming with backup stories and extra pages. It’s extra bang for your buck, plus it’s a nice way to tie the line together without publishing multiple books like they’re one story (I’m looking at you, ‘90s X-Men comics). However these backups and anthologies are going to work, they should be valuable parts of the publishing universe. 

Also valuable to DC: not killing your creators or readers. Double shipping – putting out a new issue of Batman every two weeks, for example – is logistically complicated, taxing, and expensive for me. That’s done: everything is coming out monthly.

In fact, there seems to be more of an effort at truth in advertising with some of these titles, with more books advertised up front as miniseries than I can remember in the past. There is some speculation among people who monitor comics sales that advertising a story as a mini upfront can restrict its readership. But creatively, knowing that there is an end can often make the story more meaningful. And let’s be honest, most comic readers are reading for the story and not the title – when a story in a book ends, people move on, regardless of whether the subsequent issue is a new #1 or issue 768.

Black Label’s Still Got It 

DC’s prestige line, Black Label, has been one of the focal points of speculation, but judging by these offerings, everything keeps humming along. Tom King’s whole line of books (Batman/Catwoman, Rorschach, and Strange Adventures) are all well underway, and now with added Helena Wayne. The Dreaming: Waking Hours kicks off a new arc. And John Ridley and Giusseppe Cammuncoli’s maybe-masterpiece, The Other History of the DC Universe, drops its Katana issue in March. Rumors of Black Label being on the chopping block don’t seem to have had anything to them.

Grant Morrison’s Swan Song

The last bit of news from DC’s March solicits is a sad one. Grant Morrison, the architect of so much of what has made the DC universe beautiful for the last 25 years, is stepping away from that world on March 9th. That day sees the publication of their final two DC comics: The Green Lantern Season Two #12, and Wonder Woman Earth One vol. 3. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The beautiful thing is, Morrison was a huge proponent of the “everything matters” school of comics continuity, making it their central thesis on their Batman run, but also using it to incredible effect in their Superman triptych. It’s really easy to see their influence on the last 25 years of DC stories, but that influence has only grown stronger over the last few years, as a generation of comics creators took over the industry committed to honoring and integrating everything that came before. Hell, it’s the entire point of Death Metal. So for their DC career to wrap up as their influence reaches its textual peak is just a nice way to go out. 

The post Infinite Frontier and What’s Next for the DC Universe appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2KSrY1C

[ashlingnarcos]

.

"He has always found it easier to dedicate himself to people instead of organizations." so true so Eduardo

“When are you going to stop throwing sand in each other’s face and just talk to each other?” He raised his hand to silence Eduardo’s defensive comeback. “Talk civilly, I mean.”

He felt heat rise to his cheeks at being called out on this embarrassing little flirtation he allowed himself to engage in with you. “When she stops picking up handfuls of sand.”

SCREAMING oh my god im screaming into a pillow i love this so much

oh god theyre kissing i cant handle it

BUSINESS AS USUAL? SANDOVAL. HOW DARE YOU.

ooooh got hit by a car i didnt see that coming

FUCKING CIA BILL OH MY GOD. of course he would call eduardo eddie im yodeling laughing absolutely classic CIA Bill

Omg I love that for reader. fcuking expose CIA Bill. Fuck the CIA working with the Castaños god i love that for reader so much

WAIT WHAT? BURNED IT? Oh the politicians really are politicking damn

“However long you will let me.” <3333

“I wouldn’t quit your day job.” /“I may already have.” we love flirtation

Sacrifice (A Narcos Fic)

Title: Sacrifice 

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Eduardo Sandoval x Fem!Reader

Summary: For all intents and purposes, you should hate each other, or at least harbor a strong dislike. But life has a funny way of bringing just the right people together at the wrong time. The war on drugs in Colombia is a gigantic chess match. If you’re smart and lucky enough to survive it though, you could have a beautiful future. 

Taglist: @seltsamkind​ @xoxabs88xox​ @littleone65 @dufresnes​

“You really shouldn’t think so highly of yourself, Eduardo. You know what we are, don’t you?” 

Your cheekiness amuses and irritates him to no end. “And what is that?” 

“We’re pawns.” You rethink your statement. “Well, maybe you’re more the rook and I’m the knight, but you get my point. We’re the pieces on the chessboard that are very useful but ultimately are sacrificed in order to win the game.” 

“And what makes you so sure we’re going to win?” 

You never did answer him. One of the hundreds of interruptions that he can no longer remember prevented your conversation from continuing. That was always the way between the two of you. Brief flirtations with intimate moments that reality and crisis always brought to a grinding halt before those moments had a chance to be finalized in a natural order.  Who knows where you would have ended up if they had reached completion. 

Keep reading

[cositapreciosa]

i'm sure this comes as a surprise to NO ONE but uh Eduardo Sandoval plers <3 <3 - here's some quote options: "you're an idiot" (affectionate) - "never say that again" - "don't let them get in your head" - "I won't let you down" "you never have" - "I thought you were dead" & here's some idea/flavor options: love triangle w/ Carrillo or Javi - international diplomacy - late night argument - ties as bondage - hurt/comfort - kissing in the rain......hopefully one of these is good! thank you so much <3

Rain season

Eduardo Sandoval x gn!reader, 1236 words

With '' don’t let them get in your head '' hurt/comfort - kissing in the rain

a/n : ok so they're not kissing in the rain, but it's raining, so also first Eduardo fic, this is so exciting send me moree

Rain season in Colombia had always been your favorite. How the temperature would drop a few degrees, the slight wind, and the cold rain. It turns the city into a different town. The only thing that never changed was your job, no matter the season, no matter how strong it rained, clock in, manage crisis after crisis, the once in a while near-death experience, clock out. As you sit on the steps outside the presidential palace, the soft splash of the rain against the pavement grounds you. You’re here. Breathe.

The end of the cigarette warms your fingers, in a few minutes it will most likely burn the skin, but you can’t seem to care. People rush past you to get inside, covering their heads with their suits or their briefcases while you welcome the drops on your shoes. You can’t allow yourself to fully stand in the rain. You could do it out of spite. Just to see those old men turn angry red. Just to dare them to say one more time, you're not fit for the job.

‘’ You’re gonna burn your fingers if you don’t put it out. ‘’

You turn your head towards him, his voice is softer than what he usually allows himself in the office. Eduardo stands tall behind you, hands in his pocket, eyes surveying the plaza. The place is empty now, employees went back in after lunch, fleeting from the weather. You scoff as you inhale the last drag, blowing the smoke through your nose. The red tip burns your fingers when you crush it against the pavement, spreading ashes around the bud,

‘’ You can just tell me how it is, Eduardo. No need to walk around it. If they’re so mad they can just fire me for all I care. ‘’

A small laugh escapes his lips as he unbuttons his suit, bending his knees and taking place on the step. With a groan, he stretches his legs out, his feet stopping next to yours,

‘’ They won’t fire you. What you said was true and it scared them. Their campaign would fall apart if they tried to replace you. ‘’

You hmm absently, you know he is right, that cornered animals bite and scratch when feeling attacked. You can’t stop looking at his shoes. Heavy drops of rain falling on the brown leather, on his bright grey socks, the cuff of his pants. You are itching for another smoke, pondering whether or not to take another one. You know if you do he will tell you about all those new studies coming out about tobacco, how it is bad for your health. Your fingers pull on the thread near your pocket as you nod at his feet,

‘’ You’re going to get your pants all wet. ‘’

The smile he gives you warms up your insides,

‘’ Oh, this old thing? No te preoccupes. ‘’

You know it’s a lie, a smile of your own tugging at your lips, his being too contagious for you to stop it before it comes out. You know it’s a lie because you were there two weeks ago when he bought them, not the cheap ones, the good kind, those that fit and take years to wear out. The top of your shoe pushes slightly against his, again and again, playfully waiting for him to say something and make you stop, but he doesn’t, he just lets you. You sigh,

‘’ They never listen to me, Eduardo. They never do and then they get mad when what I told them would happen happens. ‘’

The rain is falling harder now, giving the illusion of a white sheet across the plaza. Your shoes are soaked, his socks now a deeper shade of grey,

‘’ Don’t let them get in your head, cariño. ‘’

You nod softly, your teeth pulling at your lip, he is right, he always is. Your eyes fall on his hand next to yours, pressed flat against the pavement, pale from the pressure, and you can’t help yourself but slowly feel the skin with your fingertips, watching the small hairs around his wrist rise,

‘’ I won’t,‘’ you reassured.

You know he’s not the public affection type of guy, and frankly, neither are you, but he lets you run your finger against the back of his hand, and as the rain keeps falling around you and the wind picks up, it feels like it’s only the two of you in the whole palace. When you look up at him, his eyes are already on you, affectionate eyes meeting your hurt ones,

‘’ Can I kiss you? ‘’, he whispers.

His blue eyes gaze down to your lips. The wind is cold on your face, but the warm feeling in your chest, the heat on your cheeks almost makes it negligible. There is no one around, you think, there’s no harm in this, right?

You lean in quickly as if you’re scared he would change his mind. Thoughts are fighting in your head : what if, what if, but the second you feel his nose brush against yours, slowly tracing it for a moment, they are gone. Your heart races in your chest, butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your fingers reach for his collar as his fingers close gently around your bicep, holding tightly, bringing you closer, and when his lips finally touch yours, you’re not sure if it’s the rain pouring harder, or if your ears are buzzing.

The kiss is soft, brief, his warm lips leaving yours almost as soon as they touched. The wind feels cold again, and you watch as his chest slowly goes up and down, catching his breath,

‘’ I have a fresh pair of socks in my office if you wanna change out of your shoes. They’re for Gaviria, but I know he won’t mind, I can- ‘’

‘’ Eduardo, ‘’ your hand travels from his neck to cup his cheek, softly rubbing the skin with your thumb, ‘’ I’ll be fine, they’ll dry off. ‘’

Your fingers are lightly pressing on his neck and you have to hold yourself back from pulling him to you once more when, for a quick second, his eyes fall to your lips again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat,

‘’ I have to go, I’ll see you after work, yeah? ‘’

You nod, ‘’ Yeah. ‘’

‘’ Good, ‘’ he exhales. Your hand falls from his cheek as he rises, following his arm, his side, until you can’t touch him anymore. His fingers struggle with the buttons of his jacket for a moment before letting go and putting his hands in his pockets instead. He looks down at his shoes, a smile pulling at his lips, ‘’ Maybe I should take Gaviria’s socks. ‘’

And just like that, he’s gone as quickly as he appeared.

.

Your shoes squeak when you walk into the palace. The moisture trapped in the soles seeps between your toes every time you put pressure on them. It doesn’t bother you that they can hear you coming from a mile away, how their heads turn when you walk into the conference room,

‘’ Señores, let’s get this day over as fast as possible, shall we? ‘’

You can’t wait to clock out.

[the-hinky-panda]

Day 18: Gooseflesh

10/18: Gooseflesh (or goosebumps, which is what I used) 

Universe // Characters: The Finca (new multichapter story) // Eduardo Sandoval x Fem! Reader

This one is dedicated to @seltsamkind as this was their idea and I just kind of ran with it. 

Your family’s finca was chosen as a halfway point of travel between Bogotá and Medellín for Presidential Candidate César Gaviria and his security team. You had your father’s hatred for the narcos in the surrounding jungle to thank for this mini-home invasion. There is no cartel activity in a three mile radius around your property thanks to your father’s military training before he became a farmer. 

You didn’t know what to expect so you just drifted behind your mother who was preparing for the house guests: opening rooms to air them out, changing the bedding and fluffing pillows, and then stationing herself in the kitchen. You help with chopping vegetables, kneading dough, and making sure the dishes and silverware are gleaming. 

It’s an impressive display when it’s completed. The long wooden table is filled with all kinds of food, the best linens, porcelain, and silver displayed for use. Your younger sister had even gone out and picked flowers, arranging them in an empty clay pot that usually holds oil. You’re not sure how this rustic fare is going to be received by those who are used to living in the grand metropolis of Bogotá. You had only been there a handful of times in your life, and found the pace to be too fast, the people too busy, and the buildings too tall. All of the “too much” drowned out the birdsong and that was something you couldn’t bear to live without. 

The group that your father leads into the dining room is much smaller than you anticipated. There are only eight people. You and your mother had prepared a feast for twenty. Your father offers the seat at the head of the table to Gaviria, who declines it graciously, but firmly. You watch him closely as you all sit down for the meal and notice how he relaxes almost immediately. The slightly forced smile eases into something more genuine. The tension in his posture disappears as well. 

The same can not be said for his head of security, who chooses the seat next to you. He is tall, head and shoulders over you, and sits unnaturally poised in his chair as if he’s ready to spring to his feet at any given moment. The alert energy he gives off makes you uneasy. That is until his constantly roaming eyes pass over your face and you’re stunned at the color of them. They’re blue, but the deep, rich color of the hydrangeas that grow below your bedroom window. You’ve never seen eyes that color before and now it’s your turn to sit uncomfortably still at the table. 

He introduces himself to you quietly as Eduardo Sandoval. You whisper your name back to him but he must not hear it because he leans closer to you until you repeat it. His cologne stings your nose but you notice the delicate curve of his dark lashes as they lay on his cheek when he blinks. You’re caught between the odd pull of either reaching under the table to discreetly touch his hand or excuse yourself to throw up. 

You’re not naive. You know what these conflicting feelings are, you just wish it didn’t have to happen now and with someone like him. This finca, or one similar to it, is going to be your life. You will marry when a suitable man asks your father for your hand. You’ll wed in the spring, settle in your new home over the summer, and be ready to harvest the bananas, broccoli, cabbage, and strawberries come fall. By the following harvest, you would pick strawberries with a baby in a sling around your chest. So when you indulge yourself with a glance at the man seated next to you, in his tailored suit and educated accent, you feel a pang of disappointment. He, or anyone else like him, is not your future. 

Other than your internal struggle, dinner is a pleasant affair. All your guests seem to enjoy the food, and once the initial nerves dissipate, the smiles come easier to all around the table. You help your mother clear the table while your father and brother show the security team around the main house. You are placed in charge of brewing the coffee and plating the dessert before taking it out to the patio. There are a couple chairs, benches, and a long couch that are set up around a brick fire pit. When you deliver the tray of coffee and sweets, it is only César Gaviria that is out there. 

“La cena fue encantadora. Gracias por todo lo que hiciste para prepararlo. (Dinner was lovely. Thank you for everything you did to prepare it.)” 

“Muchas gracias por decirlo. Nos alegramos de que lo hayas disfrutado. (Thank you very much for saying so. We’re glad that you enjoyed it.)” 

He politely declines the dessert but takes an offered cup of coffee. “¿Tienes un momento para sentarte? (Do you have a moment to sit?)” 

When the possible future president of the country asks you to sit, you do. The uncomfortableness returns, the tightness to the smile and the rigid set of his shoulder. You’re a terrible hostess if you can’t put your guests at ease. But you suppose this is a reciprocal situation: you’re both uncomfortable and that energy is being bounced back and forth between you. 

“Háblame de tu familia. ¿Cuánto tiempo has vivido en esta tierra? (Tell me about your family. How long have you lived on this land?)” 

“Hemos vivido aquí durante cuatro generaciones. Ahora, son mis padres y mi hermana menor y mi hermano. (We’ve lived here for four generations. Now, it’s my parents and my younger sister and brother.)” 

He nods thoughtfully. “Extraño a mi familia. Tuve que despedirlos por su seguridad. (I miss my family. I had to send them away for their safety.)” 

“Estoy seguro de que debe haber sido una decisión muy difícil. (I’m sure that must have been a very difficult decision.)” 

“Fue. (It was.)” He stares into the flames of the fire for a moment before refocusing on you, a slightly easier smile on his face. “Ha sido maravilloso poder pasar tiempo con tu familia cuando extraño a la mía. Gracias por eso. (It has been wonderful being able to spend time with your family when I'm missing mine. Thank you for that.)” 

The sincerity is unmistakable in his words and it touches your heart. The intimidating feeling of having such an important man, a figurehead, visit your humble home, has dissipated. He’s just a man who is missing his family. You smile, genuinely, and relax the tension from your shoulders. 

“Me alegro de que podamos ofrecerle consuelo. (I’m glad we could offer you solace.)” 

The two of you sit in companionable silence for a few minutes before you’re joined by Eduardo. He nods to César, most likely a confirmation that everything is safe for the evening, before picking up a cup of coffee and a plate of strawberries and cream. You try to stay focused on Gaviria, since he is the one that invited you to sit with him, but your eyes are consistently drawn to Sandoval. You suddenly turn into a researcher, taking note of how he folds himself into the chair, arranging his long legs and arms so he’s comfortable. Given the darkness of the night, his eyes appear much darker than they are, but when a log pops and emits a high flame, you can still see the blue of them. 

You listen to the two men speak of security measures and the campaign. You try to pay attention but quickly lose your understanding of that particular landscape. Then the talk turns to fútbol and you completely tune them out. Your focus remains on studying Eduardo, how his voice rises and falls with his discussion of the sport and teams. You watch his hand movements, try to gauge just how long his fingers are, how broad his palms are, and how they would feel against your skin. It’s with this particular train of thought that the exhaustion of the day’s preparation, paired with the warmth of the fire, and the cadence of the men’s voices, catch up with you and you slip into a light sleep.

***

The jungle makes him nervous. It’s too dark, too wild, too easy to conceal threats. It’s not like security is all that much easier in the city, but at least the night is almost as bright as the day with the help of streetlights. You can always see your surroundings in the city. Out here, just inky blackness surrounds him and causes a chill to run down his spine. He can’t see anything past a few feet of the buildings. He hears sounds he’s not familiar with and therefore it’s his imagination that is left to fill in the blanks. But your father, a man who knows the land as if he created it himself, assures him that this is the safest place in Colombia. And since he can’t see through the dark and into the jungle, Eduardo has to take his word for it. 

He does admire the finca, and the family who inhabits it, on the walk back to the patio where he told César to wait for him. The home is old, judging by the hanging vines that cling to outer walls and the size of the bushes adorning the courtyards. But there is no sign of cracks in the plaster or walls crumbling due to its age. The house is loved, as are the people who call it home. Your parents moved and spoke in a syncopation that couples rarely are able to attain. Your younger brother, a lanky teenage boy, showed far more manners that most dignitaries, and your little sister beamed with excitement at having guests, not caring a whit if they were important people or not. 

And then there was you, the oldest sibling. He had chosen the seat by you by sheer  happenstance. He had wanted to place himself directly across from César so he could have a clear view behind him but he gained much more than that. You were beautiful, far more than any of the upper society women in Bogotá. Your hair was loose and straight, your dress simple but well-made. You wore one piece of jewelry, a necklace with a small, teardrop emerald on a gold chain. You were lovely in your simplicity. 

He hadn’t intended to introduce himself. He had one job: get César to Cali and back safely. He didn’t need to know your name, but he felt the need to collect it. Then, you had spoken so softly, he had to ask for it twice and lean closer to you in order to hear it. That’s when he picked up your scent. At first, he thinks it’s perfume but then realizes it’s just you: earthy, herbal, and fresh. It was more intoxicating than the wine. 

Love and relationships have no space in his life though, not now at least. He has a job: protect. And not just protect a politician whose predecessor had already been assassinated, but protect a friend. He and César go back to University together, studying political science and economics. They made a good team, César with his intelligence and strategizing, Eduardo with his bluster and passion. Their combined strengths had carried them this far and it looks like it could carry them all the way to the Presidency. Entertaining the idea of a romance with a farm girl is counter intuitive. 

But he comes upon the patio, with the fire popping and crackling, dancing over the forms of his friend and you. You both look far more relaxed than you had at the table, smiling and talking with equal enthusiasm. A strange pang of jealousy hits him as he wishes he had the subtle charm that César possesses, the soft turn of phrase and warm words that he uses to sway people to see his side of things. What was the phrase Agent Murphy had used once to describe him, “a bull in a china shop?” Perhaps he could work on being less “bullish.” 

“Buenos,” he greets and you both respond in kind. He’s so enchanted by the way the firelight is flickering across your skin and dark eyes, he almost runs into a chair, managing to side step it at the last moment. You don’t seem to notice, staring down at the pattern in the fabric of your skirt, but César does. Eduardo sees that tiny smirk in the corner of his friend’s mouth and knows he’s going to hear about it the rest of the way to Cali. He grabs a plate of strawberries and a cup of coffee before taking the chair that almost tripped him up. 

He runs through the basics of the security measures that they’ve taken at the finca before the conversation slides in fútbol. He keeps glancing over at you to see if you’re even remotely interested in the topic of conversation. Sometimes you are listening, sometimes your head is tilted to the side listening to the sounds from the jungle. When César reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his notebook to go over speech notes for their arrival in Cali, Eduardo notices that you have fallen asleep. Sound asleep. 

It’s not surprising. He noticed all the work that went into the preparation for their arrival. He saw the guest rooms, brightly decorated and meticulously cleaned. He knows the plates of food took time to gather and prepare before they sat on the table. The finca had field workers but it was your mother and siblings that worked in the house. Of course you were tired, how could you not be? 

“Ella se va a volcar. (She’s going to tip over.)” César jots down a couple notes without looking up. “Deberías despertarla o apoyarla. (You should either wake her up, or prop her up.)” 

Eduardo thinks about just waking you up and sending you on your way. It would most likely be for the best. Get you away from him and out of his mind, the sooner the better. He did not have time nor the energy to get involved in some little dalliance with a country girl. He sighs, loud enough for César to hear, before moving over to the couch. He’s in the process of grabbing a pillow when you list to the side and the only way to stop your descent is to wedge his own body between the arm of the bench and you. He is a protector by nature and this is no different. However, he now finds himself stuck in this position and judging from the not so hidden smile on César’s face, you may have had help in your free fall. 

“Debería haberla despertado. (I should have just woken her up.)” 

César frowns slightly. “Disparates. Te hará bien quedarte quieto por una vez. (Nonsense. It’ll do you good to sit still for once.)” 

Eduardo gives him a surprised look. “¿Desde cuándo te volviste tan mandón? (Since when did you get so bossy?)” 

“Me postulo para presidente. Piensa en esto como una práctica. (I am running for president. Think of this as practice.)” 

Eduardo huffs in indignation but does settle back against the corner of the bench. You shift, following him and his movements until your head is resting on his shoulder, hand curled under your chin and laying on his arm. The fire is still jumping and dancing, creating a soft glow to your skin that makes his fingers itch in a desire to slide over the smooth plains of your collarbone and neck. The scent of strawberries and mint fills his nose again and he fights the urge to bury his nose in your hair and stay there all night. 

He’s going to leave tomorrow morning, most likely never to see you again for what reason would bring him back here? César is concentrating deeply on his speech, completely oblivious to Eduardo and the conflict that is occuring at the other end of the couch. As carefully as he can, he drags his fingertips over the back of your bicep and watches as goosebumps erupt across your bare arm. Your brow furrows and you shift closer to him, a consequence of his action though not one that he’s sorry to pay. 

He is going to have to leave you tomorrow morning, he reminds himself again. It’s going to prove a most difficult task as there is so much more he would like to learn about you. But when he pursued this life, this job, he signed on to do nothing but difficult tasks. And those choices always had a price. He just wishes it didn’t have to be companionship.

[the-hinky-panda]

Day 13: Ghastly

10/13: Ghastly 

Universe // Characters: Sacrifice // Eduardo Sandoval

Warning: Mentions of blood, wounds, and death. 

Eduardo remembers the first time he saw you, following the drops of blood on the marble floors of the Presidential Palace to the office bathroom. He remembers you opening the door, the wide eyes, pale face, and bloodbath behind you. He remembers pushing his way into the room and focusing on the tending of the open wounds on your arms and legs, your delicate hands and bruised knees. He remembers thinking this must be something akin to love at first since blood typically makes him lightheaded and twists his stomach. But it wasn’t the blood that did that to him on that particular day. 

It was you. 

Now, just a few years later, that memory twists itself in his dreams. He still follows you through the hallways, still opens the door but the sight that greets him is you, in a pool of blood. Your bright eyes are empty and sightless. Your neck at an odd angle. No matter how many bandages he applies, he can’t bring you back, can’t reignite the spirit that he’s come to love. 

He wakes up from that dream the same way each time: sweating, heart racing, disoriented. He wipes his hands on the down comforter trying to get the feeling of your slick blood off his palms. He sits up, presses his back against the hard headboard and lets the solid wood cool his heated skin. He swipes away the tears that have gathered in his eyes and swallows down the sob that is trying to work itself up from his lungs as his mind tries to push the dream back into his unconscious. 

You’re alive. You’re safe. You’re next to him. 

When his heart has slowed to a normal pace and the sweat has cooled, he’s overcome with the need to touch you, to make sure you really are alive and whole. He starts with your hands, curled neatly under your chin, traces his fingertips over your knuckles and over your wrists. You hum in your sleep, the touch light enough to not wake you. He slips back down under the blankets and sheets so his head is laying next to yours, your foreheads almost touching. 

The pads of his fingers continue past your wrists and over your forearms, sharp points of your elbows, and the toned muscle of your biceps. He can feel the rough patches of the scars from the road rash of your first meeting. He reminds himself, these are scars only. The wounds have healed. You’re alive. You’re safe. 

There’s a furrow in your brow now, your eyes slowly opening. “Eduardo?” 

“Lo siento, mi amor, (I’m sorry, my love.)” He presses his lips to your forehead, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“S’okay,” you mumble, burying your face against his neck, and sighing as sleep overtakes you again. 

His hands continue their path over your side, your ribcage, and come to rest on your slightly swollen belly. Four months. Four months you’ve been carrying this tiny creation and four months these dreams have plagued him more and more. He knows it’s just his mind indulging in the fear of losing everything he has gained. So he continues dragging his fingers over the closed, once ghastly wounds on your arms before resting his palms on the soft, roundness of your stomach. 

You’re alive. You’re safe. You’re beside him. 

And just as he’s drifting back to sleep, he can feel the flutter of movement against his hand that is still pressed against your abdomen.

[cositapreciosa]

Thank you for writing a lil something for Eduardo Sandoval :’) you made my heart and delusions mind happy. You were one of the very very very very few authors I found for him and I just had to come praise you for 1) obviously writing for him and 2) your work in general. I am hoping there’s more of him to see in your blog’s future but if not I still think you wrote it so beautifully. The setting, the thoughts, the actions, the people, everything. Beautiful piece of work overall. Thank you again ^.^

BABYYYY

I am sososos happy you liked it! It is a pleasure for me to write for Eduardo

pssst there is be another one in the work 😍

[the-hinky-panda]

Sacrifice Sneak Peek

Okay, I’m a little excited about this one but as I’m still unpacking and getting my new place organized, my writing time is suffering. But, here is a sneak peek of the Eduardo Sandoval fic I’ve been working on these last few days. 

You were passing through the Presidential offices, having just delivered an envelope of papers and pictures from the US Embassy. You were dressed in your cycling gear, garish neon green bike helmet tucked under your arm, and sweat slipping down the side of your face and along your neck. His mouth went dry at the sudden desire to trace the path of those droplets with his tongue, to taste the mix of salt and you. 

And it infuriated him. 

“Delivering pizzas? Or some other American food nonsense that’s in a greasy bag?” he teased, following you into the elevator. He needed to clear the lobby of reporters before Cesár left the building for the day. But he also needed to clear his mind of you. However, it was just the two of you in the elevator and it was proving a difficult and irritating task. 

“Actually it was a box addressed to you. It was ticking so maybe you should give it a good shake before opening it.” You flashed him a cheeky grin and he fought the urge to kiss it from your lips. You were so incredibly fearless, cracking casual jokes of bombs as if it wasn’t an actual threat. 

“Given how you handle your deliveries, I feel fairly safe that if it were a bomb, it would gone off by now.” 

You narrow your eyes but whatever retort you had was cut off as the doors open and there’s a group of about ten reporters waiting for him. You take note of each and everyone of them. This was something you two did have in common, constantly aware of your surroundings and the people in your vicinity. Always scanning the crowds for threats and coming up with escape routes. Perhaps Cesár was correct. You and he were just too similar, summoning feelings of annoyance from staring into the mirror for too long. 

“I don’t envy you your job, Vice Minister.” 

The desire to hear you say his name surprised him. He wondered though, just how it would sit in your mouth and curl around your tongue. How would you say Eduardo in the odd twang of your accent? He tried to shake this feeling off by straightening his tie and buttoning his suit jacket. “What is the saying you Americans have, it’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it?” 

[the-hinky-panda]

Day 26: Eldritch

10/26: Eldritch 

Universe // Characters: Narcos // César Gaviria, Eduardo Sandoval, Reader (Eduardo’s twin sister) 

Rating: Explicit (sexual situations)

(So I took some liberty with this one since Eldritch is an archaic term. It means “weird and sinister or ghostly.” So while the word isn’t outright used in the fic, I tried to create a weird feel to the situation by leaving a lot of things vague and unanswered. This fic was 100% an experiment so it may be a complete fail but I’m just going to be brave and yeet it out there.) 

César knows when he places the call what the answer will be. 

My door is always open to you. 

The first time you had uttered those words, he had been leaving the small two bedroom apartment that you and Eduardo shared off the University campus. The tall, blue-eyed twins from the Sandoval banking and investment family. You were legends before you even stepped on the campus. 

You quickly made names for yourselves and it was just your first year while César was in his third. Eduardo was studying political science,  a force to be reckoned with during debates with his fire and complete disregard for polite rhetoric.  His first public debate was cut short when he openly laughed and told his opponent to “just shut the fuck up and go back to grade school to learn proper history.” César had been sitting there in the audience, secretly admiring the clear disdain that Eduardo had shown with no remorse for being disqualified from the competition. He wanted that level of confidence. And if he couldn’t have the confidence, then he wanted the man who contained it. 

But then he met you, the mirror opposite of Eduardo. Quiet, introspective, academic, like him. Eduardo inspired him, you allowed him freedom to breathe. 

You were being sought after to add your paintings to the campus art gallery as well as adding your musical talent to the University orchestra. When you didn’t have a paintbrush or cello bow in your hand, you were typically in the greenspace, shoes off and toes curled in the grass as you read or sketched. By the end of that year, you would spend your time with César’s head in your lap while he practiced his own debate speeches with Eduardo fact checking and providing feedback. 

The three of you became inseparable and soon concern started to weigh on his mind. He was riding both your coattails, using you both to get noticed as he went into the fourth year and started applying to the graduate school. You were up and comers, good looking, wealthy, and talented. Why either one of you thought he was worthy to be brought into your shared world caused great internal conflict. All that secretive angst came to a head one winter weekend when the three of you decided to drink whiskey and smoke cigarettes all weekend. Drunk and jittery with nicotine, he broke his silence. 

“Why me?” he lamented. “Why did you two choose me?” 

“Choose you?” Eduardo echoed from the chair in the corner where he had been attempting to read Nietzsche to see if being inebriated helped with understanding the man’s philosophy. “What does that mean?” 

You crossed the room with refilled whiskey glasses and set them on the small table in front of the couch before sitting next to him. You smoothed your hand down the side of César’s face. “Poor dear thinks we’re going to sacrifice him.” 

“Sacrifice? What do you sacrifice people for?” 

“How should I know, Eduardo? You’re the politician.” You gave him a sweet smile. “I create, not destroy.” 

César laughed nervously. “I’m not worried about that.” 

“Then what?” you had prompted with wide, glassy blue eyes. Your hand had dropped from his face and now rested on top of his own. “What are you afraid of, César? Tell us.” 

This. He’s afraid of losing this. The warmth, friendship, acceptance, belonging. He’s afraid of turning around and finding you both gone, done with your pet project of the middle class wannabe politician. But he forced a smile and patted your hand. “Nothing. Just a stupid fleeting thought.” 

You didn’t look convinced by his answer, even drunk you could see through his mask. Eduardo laughed loudly and dropped the book on the floor with a loud thud. “Look at that. You’re already a great politician. Lying to your friends' faces. Keep that up,” he clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed, “and you’ll be fucking President of Colombia.” 

  César had kissed you that night, standing in the doorway, when it was time for him to return to his own dorm room. You had followed him down to the front door to see him out. Worry had still touched your eyes and he had wanted it to go away. So he awkwardly leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. It was a brief affair, brought on by an awkward silence of a good-bye and tangle of nerves. But you both laughed and parted ways amicably. The next time he kissed you goodnight though, it had been a proper kiss and just shy smiles insteads of laughter. 

It had been a beautiful and simple time in his life, a time when he was convinced he could continue loving you both. 

That feeling didn’t last for long. 

“Come on,” you urged, tugging at his sleeve. 

He laughed and shook his head. “I’m not making out with you in the back of this car!” 

“César, trust me. You need to relax.” 

“I have ten hours before I have to give my dissertation-” 

“I know! Get back here, now!” You leaned over the back of the passenger side seat, blue eyes gleaming in the dark. “Tick tock, el presidente.” 

He couldn’t help but grin at the nickname both you and Eduardo use for him. El Presidente. Your faith in him was so blind but so filled with confidence. Maybe it was time for him to take a leap of faith himself. He just didn’t expect that his decision to join you in the back of the old Renault would change his life’s path. 

He loved you, he knew that with certainty. But there were times, like that moment, when it was dark and he would close his eyes, he would imagine what it would feel like if your hands were broader. If your curves were less giving. Your sighs, deeper in tone. He let you lead that night, kissing him until he was lightheaded and slouched against the corner of the small car’s backseat. He was so focused on your mouth that he didn’t realize you had unbuttoned his shirt until your cold hands skimmed across his bare chest. 

“Dios mio!” 

You smirked against his neck. “Already? You’re more wound up than I thought.” 

He huffed a short laugh before leaning his head back far enough that he was staring at the dark ceiling of the car. He took a deep breath when he felt your hands at his waist, unbuckling his belt and dragging the zipper down. Your hands had warmed by the time they gently closed around his hard length and you folded your lanky frame into the small space on the floor. 

“Mi amor-” 

“Tranquillo.” 

And he listened. That had been his fatal mistake. He relaxed, let his mind go blank when the wet warmth of your mouth closed over him. It had been so easy to fall into that daydream that was becoming more and more frequent. His hands blindly reached down to touch you but his one hand closed on the bony ridge of your shoulder and the other slipped into your hair. Dark, soft curls wrapping around his fingers as your mouth and hand were speeding him along towards that electric feeling gathering at the base of his spine. He clenched his jaw to keep from making any noise, not wanting to risk having the wrong name slip from his lips. 

But then he opened his eyes just as you looked up at him from underneath dark lashes and soft waves of dark hair. The light hit your face at the right angle and it could have been Eduardo staring up at him. His hips snapped forward and your fingernails bit into his hip. He came hard, a desperate groan ripped from his throat. To your incredible credit, you rode out his orgasm and sat back on your heels when you were certain it was over. 

You used the hem of your shirt to wipe your face clean.“Now, don’t you feel better?” 

He tugged you up towards him and kissed you as thoroughly as you had done to him so you wouldn’t see the tears and guilt in his eyes. 

That had been the night he knew he loved you both. He wanted you both. He blamed it, and still does if he’s honest, on you being twins. Twins were said to share the same soul. And even though he never believed in something as fantastical as soulmates, falling in love with both you and Eduardo provided some irrefutable evidence to that belief. So he did what he thought was fair to all three of you: he couldn’t choose between you and Eduardo so he went with a third choice. 

Ironically, you had been the one to introduce him to Ana, a childhood friend who had come to one of the University parties. She had been pursuing a degree in administrative business and accounting but as Eduardo had put, she had been looking for her “Mrs.” degree. Ana was everything you and Eduardo were not: quiet, socially mannered, and professionally, perfectly dressed. If he truly were going to be a politician, Ana would make a traditionally well received partner. And she did. He couldn’t have asked for a better first lady during his Presidency. On the outside, he truly did have everything, met all the goals that he had set for himself. 

So why is it he can only think of the things that he has lost along the way? 

You now live a hermit artist’s life three hours outside of Bogotá and Eduardo committed political suicide. Once Eduardo resigned, he essentially disappeared from the face of the earth. Or at least Colombia. César would have been more concerned but when he placed the phone call to you, you were already aware of the situation and not alarmed at Eduardo’s absence. That told César all he needed to know; not what he wanted to know. Eduardo is alive but César doesn’t know if he’s well. His visit to your home, a modest sized house and art studio in the mountains near El Manzano, should help fill in the blanks. 

And give him space to breathe. 

It’s taken a lot of convincing and conniving for him to make the drive alone. In fact, he told his head of security that he wasn’t going to leave until tomorrow morning, a necessary evil since there have been multiple times set and they keep getting canceled. He’s certain that Ana had gotten frustrated with tripping over his bag in the hallway that she suggested he just leave early in the morning before the security detail arrived at their home. So that is what he did. Eduardo would have had a fit if he had known. 

But leaving as early as he did means he pulls up to your house before nine in the morning. He isn’t sure you’re even awake yet so he gets out of the car and just wanders around the front gardens. The home is built into a small plateau on the side of the mountain. The plants are riotous in their growth, looking as if there’s no planning to the planting but upon closer inspection, he sees the carefully laid out stone dividers around the flower beds and plants. Organized chaos. That has always been your speciality and he hopes that you’ll be able to organize some of his own chaos. 

The air is much clearer up here, the rolling green hills below and the mountains above give the feeling of living inside a fairy garden. You’ve lived here for years, he’s visited many times, but the magic of the place never fades. Already he starts to feel the tension ebb from his muscles and the tightness in his chest is releasing. He follows the stepping stones, all natural flat rocks that you found in the area, and turns the corner where the front door of the stucco house comes into view. There’s a small patio, enclosed with a waist-high stone wall, and you’re standing in the open doorway. 

It’s been almost a year since he’s seen you and he’s forgotten just how much you look like Eduardo. Tall, willowy thin, with your wavy dark hair and bright blue eyes. Your dress is a plain linen shift with an oversized cable knit cardigan thrown over it to ward off the morning chill. But your feet are bare, toes curled against the flagstones and he smiles at your consistency. 

“Coffee’s almost done.” 

“How did you know I was going to be here this early?” 

You smile, the slightest touch of sadness appearing in the corner of your eyes. “Ana called.” 

Of course. Even though he knows that you and Ana have an arraignment of sorts when it comes to his visits, he wonders briefly if you ever regret introducing Ana to him. Because there are moments, like this one, that he does. It should have been you. It always should have been you. But that wasn’t the decision he made and now he must live with that decision. His regret is not a consequence you should bear. And yet, here he is darkening your doorstep with nothing but regrets for his past decisions. 

“Shoes, César.” 

“Really?” 

You flash him a smirk and for a second he sees Eduardo in the look. “Really. No shoes in the house. Socks too.” 

He remembers this is your rule and you don’t have many, so he slips his loafers and socks off and leaves them by the front door. When you bought the house years ago, the main feature you loved so much was the stone floors. You swore that anyone who passed through the home would never wear shoes or socks, only bare feet would be allowed to touch the floor. It grounds you, you had told him one evening. It forces you to connect with nature, bring you back to your most pure self. 

And isn’t that why he’s here? To find his center? To find an eye of calm in the storm? So that’s what he does. He follows you into the kitchen and when you turn to ask him something, he immediately wraps his arms around you and buries his face into the side of your neck. You still smell the same, lavender and sage. And guilt almost overwhelms him even as he tightens his hold on you, that this feels more like coming home then anytime he passes through the doorway of his own home in Bogotá. He fills his hands with the soft material of your sweater as he feels you relax against him. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” 

You slide your arms around his waist, your palms flat against his back as you return the embrace. “Then don’t stay away for so long then.” 

This. This is what he is lacking. Someone who gently challenges him. There are times when he bristles against the constant support that Ana gives him, her liturgy of “I’ll support you no matter what.” There are times, like now, where support is useless. He needs guidance. He needs someone to tell him where he’s gone wrong and how to fix it. 

He needs both you and Eduardo. 

And he feels incredibly selfish for having that need, not just for one person but for two. Even after all these years, the need for you both hasn’t diminished. The only difference now is he’s tired. He’s staring down the last seven months of his presidency, Escobar is still out there, Search Bloc is leaderless, Ana has been looking at returning to University but in the US, and he just wants to have something to show for it all when it’s over. 

You have always been a constant in his life. 

He takes a steadying breath before forcing his hands to release you. You hold his face between your warm palms and kiss him briefly on the lips before stepping away. You open one of the cabinets and take down coffee cups, setting them on the counter. 

“How long are you here for?” 

He wants to stay forever. “Two days. I have a speaking engagement at a military graduation I need to be back for.” 

You shake your head slightly. “Two days, that’s not very long.” 

“No.” He moves back towards you, starting to reach for you again because two days is not a long time at all, when he sees three cups are sitting out on the counter. It has been a year since he’s seen you. A lot can happen in a year. But he would have thought you would have said something, or Eduardo would have said something if you had gotten married or had someone move in with you. But it would make sense that someone had finally seen the beautiful value you offer by your existence. He feels even more defeated than when he left Bogotá. 

“Here,” you hand him a plate of pastries and the sugar for the coffee. 

“I didn’t think I was going to be intruding.” He tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice but he can’t quite manage it. 

“Intruding? What makes you think-oh.” You laugh softly as you pour the coffee. “You’re not intruding at all. In fact, we’ve been waiting for you.” 

A small twinge of fear hits him. “What?” 

“Hola, el Presidente.” 

César turns to see Eduardo, dressed in khakis and an untucked dress shirt, stepping into the kitchen. “Eduardo.” 

“Where did you think he was going to go?” you ask him but then wave it off. “Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we are finally going to get to the bottom of whatever it is that has happened.” 

[cositapreciosa]

Masterlist

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

Mexico

Amado Carillo Fuentes

Affection - Amado Carillo Fuentes x reader

By proxy - Amado Carillo Fuentes x female!reader

Ismael 'El Mayo' Zambada

Safehouse - Ismael 'El Mayo' Zambada x reader

Como La Flor - Ismael 'El Mayo' Zambada x reader

Burning Bridges - Ismael 'El Mayo' Zambada x gn!reader

Pacho

Brown eyes - Pacho Herrera x reader

Colombian gold - Pacho x gn!reader

Chapo

Juro Que - Joaquin 'Chapo' x reader

Arturo 'Kitty' Paez

In training - Arturo ' Kitty ' Paez x reader

Salvaje - Arturo 'Kitty' Paez x female!reader

Head first - Arturo 'Kitty' Paez x female!reader

Rafa Quintero

Nightcall - Rafa Quintero x gn!reader

Daniel Van Ness

What is left - Daniel Van Ness x reader

OG

Eduardo Sandoval

Rain season - Eduardo Sandoval x reader

Mañana por la mañana - Eduardo Sandoval x gn!reader

Chepe Santacruz

Red lipstick - Chepe Santacruz x female!reader

Javier Peña

Honey - Javier Peña x gn!reader

Jhon 'El Límon' Burges

Mamita - Jhon 'El Límon' Burges x reader

Gustavo Gaviria

Bittersweet - Gustavo Gaviria x reader

WIPs

No title yet - Pacho x GN!Reader final result here

[aion-rsa]

Looking to The Future of the DC Universe

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The beauty of telling stories in a multiverse is the infinite possibility offered by the infinite places and infinite times to set those stories in. DC’s embrace of their multiverse has historically been one of its strongest features, but Crisis on Infinite Earths muted that ability for decades after, and only recently have comics creators started to enthusiastically dive into the concept again. And with Dark Nights: Death Metal wailing towards its conclusion, it looks like DC is set to go head first into the Bleed again.

Future State is the next big DC Comics event. Following the conclusion of Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s explosive reintroduction of the infinite multiverse-slash-musing on what might happen if we let evil get a couple of high profile wins in (gee no real world analogue to that story at all no sir), the entire DC line will be taking a pause for two months, while a variety of creative teams jump forward in the DC Universe’s timeline to tell stories about what that future might look like.

The Future State: Justice League titles include three minis with two stories in each issue, and five one shots or character-focused series. They have a mix of long time DC creators and some new faces, all of them trying to do some new things. The titles include:

Future State: Justice League #1-2

Justice League, by Joshua Williamson and Robson Rocha

Justice League Dark, by Ram V. and Marcio Takara

Future State: Green Lantern #1-2

Last Lanterns, by Geoffrey Thorne and Tom Raney

Tales of the Green Lantern Corps, by Josie Campbell, Ryan Cady and Ernie Altbacker, with Sami Basri and Clayton Henry

Future State: Suicide Squad #1-2

Suicide Squad, by Robbie Thompson and Javi Fernandez

Black Adam, by Jeremy Adams and Fernando Pasarin

Future State: Aquaman, by Brandon Thomas and Daniel Sampere

Future State: The Flash, by Brandon Vietti and Dale Eaglesham

Future State: Teen Titans, by Tim Sheridan and Rafa Sandoval

Future State: SHAZAM!, by Tim Sheridan and Eduardo Pansica

Future State: Swamp Thing, by Ram V. and Mike Perkins

We had a chance to talk with Justice League group editor Alex Carr about that future: a broken speed force, a drained central power battery, magic being harvested, and…Red X!

This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.

CHANGE IS COMING TO THE DCU

Den of Geek: Walk us through Future State and the Justice League books. What were your marching orders for the creative teams? What got you excited at the beginning point of this event?

Alex Carr: Well, I don’t want to spoil anything for Death Metal. I can tell you that the events of Death Metal will leave the door open for a variety of really, really cool stories for us to tell beginning in 2021. Future State is one of those.

When we think about Future State, one of the things that I really got excited about was I looked at the Justice League’s list of titles and our list of heroes, and when we think about the Justice League, we cover such a wide breadth of heroes, of settings, of villains, of power sets, that when I started to consider what does the future mean for all of these characters? It just simply opened up because I thought, “We can tell stories in the near future, we can tell stories in the middle future, and then we can tell stories in the far, far future,” because we have characters who play to all of those time periods and all those possibilities.

Not just time as an element to get excited about, but then I thought, “We’re in the far future, where anything can happen, where storytelling possibilities are limitless,” so too does that mean approaches to our characters. While we don’t have a central hub as a setting, or even a central time period where all of our stories take place, what we did want to get across, through all the editors in our group, was a thread of change. That thread carries through, not just our heroes, but also again, their power sets, the way they approach villains, the villains that they interact with.

If we’re talking about new heroes, that’s a huge change. Then if we’re talking about classic heroes, what’s a new mission statement that we can give to a hero? What’s a new setting we can put this hero in? What’s a new perspective that this hero can have that will really give readers a reason to open up these books, and then secondly, to get excited about the stories that are unfolding therein?

Death Metal is, in its own way, dark and reflective of the times that we live in. From a 30,000 foot perspective, it’s a story about the anxiety of living through the world that we’re living through right now. Is Future State going to carry some of those themes forward, or is it going to be more of using the inherent hopefulness of the DC Universe and the DC characters to try and reflect something back onto the world?

First of all, I do want to say that while I agree with your assessment of Death Metal as it reads right now during our conversation, I want to make sure that we aren’t putting it in a box too tightly, because I think you’re going to be really surprised by where Death Metal goes and the way in which it’s perspective may change. I agree with the way you’ve assessed it right here and now. But I think by the time we get to the end, you’re going to be really surprised. Future State carries through both of those. Yes, I’m giving you an easy answer here in that you bet, when we look in the future, it’s easy to go dystopian, and it’s also really fun to do that too.

In Justice League Dark, for example, we’ve got a futuristic witch hunt going on where the Justice League Dark team are being chased because magic has become a commodity that is to be harvested. Who better to harvest than some of the greatest magic users in the DCU? In that regard, yes, we do see a dark future there for our heroes, but there are also plenty of stories in Future State, in the Justice League, in the supergroup, in the back group that will reflect different approaches to future possibilities.

Aquaman

Case in point, Aquaman for our group, really fun writer, Brandon Thomas, and editor, Andrea Shea, approached it specifically not to be a dystopian story. We get to see Jackson Hyde, who is coming off a two-issue arc in Aquaman by writer, Jordan Clark, really take a spotlight here along with Andy Curry, the daughter of Arthur and Mera. She comes into her own here as well. Again, we’re building on something that Kelly Sue DeConnick established in her fantastic Aquaman run, the birth of Andy, which is really one of the first babies to be born in the DCU in I don’t know how long.

We took that element of story that we all loved, and here we age up Andy in Future State, and you get to see her adventure with Jackson Hyde, again, a great character that we’re excited about spotlighting. Their story is full of drama and certainly danger, but it’s also got a really fresh perspective, a positive perspective on futuristic storytelling.

The Storytelling Freedom of Future State

You’ve got an interesting mix of some DC old hands like Josh Williamson and Javier Fernandez, you’ve got some fresh faces like Geoff Thorne and Josie Campbell. What were some of the challenges to assembling a team from all of these different backgrounds with DC into hammering them into an event like this?

Well thankfully, I didn’t have to hammer too hard. As soon as we talked about, “Hey, would you like to tell a story set in the future with some of your favorite heroes?” People were really, really excited and I started getting proposals right away.

Where there were challenges, it was getting writers to think very freely. I think all too often, we get really concerned about continuity, but one of the benefits of futuristic storytelling is that we can go wild here. Anything can happen from here to the year 5,000, so let’s find the best story to tell first and then we’ll figure out where it fits into a timeline and we can go from there. But let’s not worry too much about what [a] character’s boot colors will be in the year 2400. Instead, let’s figure out what are some great challenges and what are the goals? What do we want out of these stories and how are we going to ensure that readers feel like they got their money’s worth out of it before we go too deep into the details?”

But again, it really wasn’t hard. People were really excited to jump right in, especially someone like Ram V, when we talked about Swamp Thing, he and I got really caught up in Swamp Thing and Swamp Thing’s past, and what are the things that we want to cover with Swamp Thing.

But then we took a step back and we thought, “What’s a really great science fiction story that we want to tell that involves Swamp Thing?” Once we freed ourselves from all the other trappings, that’s when the story just dropped right into place, and that’s when we got to have a lot of fun with, “But who do we want from Swamp Thing’s past to fit into this wild story? Okay, cool. We can fit him or her or them here,” and then things just fell into place. I think once we took the approach with writers and artists, that you can be really as free as you want here, we saw the best results.

SWAMP THING: FUTURE STATE’S BREAKOUT STAR

That’s actually a great segue, because the next question I had was “let’s both take three minutes to just fawn over Ram V-

Yes, Ram V!

Because as he took over Justice League Dark, he’s found a new gear. As the group editor, you’re the guy who keeps the trains running on time, but you’re also the coach, right? You’re the one that’s trying to get the most out of your players that you can possibly get?

Exactly. I’m really fortunate in that I get to work on two books with Ram, Justice League Dark and Swamp Thing in Future State. We took very different approaches to both books. Ram’s storytelling really is… If you’re a fan of his, get ready, because Justice League Dark versus Swamp Thing, the way he approached the stories was very different. Justice League Dark, that the second script just came in today and I read it, it’s going to break your heart. But again, it will give you hope. Swamp Thing however, he just takes the concept to its furthest reaches. Working with him on both was not a challenge, it was just an opportunity for me to cheerlead Ram to stretch, to continue the great work that he has done on Justice League Dark.

I do think he is producing some of his best work in the most recent issues. They’re so much fun. We just continued that spirit through Justice League Dark. It’s going to be a seamless experience, even though we do have a time jump. Whereas with Swamp Thing, this is brand new Ram V. You get an element of it in the Legend of Swamp Thing Halloween Spectacular that just came out. He has two stories in there and you get a taste of what’s to come in Swamp Thing Future State there. If you like ghost stories, get ready.

What character are we going to come out of the other side of this event loving more than we’ve ever loved them before? Who do you hope we end up loathing?

It’s hard for me to pick a favorite here, but I don’t want to keep talking about Swamp Thing too much, but again, what we do with Swamp Thing is so wild, I really do think people’s perspective is going to change in terms of what is Swamp Thing, when it’s freed from Alec Holland? What does that look like? What does that mean for the character? The opportunities really open up, so I’m really excited about that.

Green Lantern

John Stewart fans, we’ve heard you. The Future State Green Lantern book, which is oversized, so it’s going to be about 44 pages. You get right around 20, 22 pages of John Stewart in a story called “Last Lanterns.” It’s what happens when the power battery dies. Think of it like The Magnificent Seven. What happens to all these green lanterns if the power battery dies? John Stewart and his ragtag group of former Green Lanterns prove that you can still do good without the rings.

In this future where the power battery is dead, John Stewart and what remains of the Green Lantern Corps, they come to a planet and that planet is just about to be overrun by a galactic religious cult. It’s their last stand against this group. How do a group of heroes who used to have powers now face a galactic threat and attempt to save a planet? It’s so cool how they do it.

Then the other 22 pages will be filled with tales across the Corps. What happens to all the other Lanterns? What happens to Jessica Cruz? What happens to Guy Gardener? What happens to the Teen Lantern and Mogo if they’re on a mission together and the power battery goes down? We’re going to get a wide variety of tones and admissions and artwork to across these stories that feature the tale of Green Lantern Corps. I think John Stewart’s going to get a great spotlight.

Teen Titans

Teen Titans introduces a really cool concept where we suggest that sometime in the future, a Teen Titans Academy was established, where the more classic Titans, Nightwing, Starfire, Cyborg, mentored characters that you saw in the new Teen Titans, like Roundhouse, Crush, et cetera. But these classic Titans were charged with protecting and mentoring the students who would become heroes tomorrow, but they’re faced with the students that they could not teach.

This is the aftermath of that betrayal. We see that Teen Titans Academy has fallen, most of its students are dead, we’ve got this mysterious betrayal, and then we get the first appearance of Red X in the DCU. That character will have his appearance in Teen Titans Future State. That’s really fun.

Shazam

Something that I really credit senior editor, Mike Cotton, with doing here, and his creative teams, was there is a direct story thread that ties through Future State Flash, Future State Teen Titans, and then Future State Shazam. You do get a continuing story there. It doesn’t mean that you have to read one to read the other, but if you do read all three, you see some really interesting pieces come together that involve Barry, when he and other speedsters are tied off from the Speed Force, you get Wally, then you have Teen Titans.

You also have an interesting plot that flows, particularly from Teen Titans into Shazam, involving the Rock of Eternity and the split of Shazam and Billy, which is a really fun idea that writer, Tim Sheridan, takes to a dark place. It’s illustrated by Eduardo Pansica in a amazing way.

What creative team surprised you the most?

Justice League written by Josh Williamson and Robson Rocha. This one was a big surprise to me because Josh and I talked a lot about the story here, along with our associate editor, Andrea Shea. The story was originally going to be one thing, and we were all excited about that story, it was fun, it was going to have a bit of nods to some classic stories that fans would have loved, but then Josh called me up one day and said, “I’m breaking this story and I’m turning it on its head.” What Josh didn’t want to do was present, “Here’s a brand new Justice League team, and wouldn’t you know it, they’re dysfunctional and they don’t get along and that’s where the drama lies.”

Instead, Joshua really turned that on its head. Here’s a team that has been together for a while, they’ve been crime fighting for a while. They do have a couple of new secret members, but these are heroes who are good at their jobs. The twist is that their identities are a secret, even from each other. They’re great at their jobs, but they’re not so good at the family aspect of Justice League. What happens is an evolved age old enemy comes forward, and uses those secret identities against them in a plot to, of course, take over the world.

We have this really grand scale plot at work, but then what Josh did was he brought the personal element to it, and we’re playing with a theme of imposter syndrome here. I think it’s really going to change the way people look at Justice League. For me, that was the biggest surprise, was the possibility that opened up. It’s just going to be a lot of fun.

The artwork by Robson Rocha is outstanding. Wait until you see him illustrate the new Wonder Woman we have, the new Batman, the new Superman, the new Green Lantern, the Aquawoman, and the new Flash. All fresh takes on costumes, powers, emotions, the character acting involved there is powerful.

By the time readers get to Future State, they will have seen how his run on Justice League Doom Metal, the Death Metal tie-in, ends, and Robson was a part of that too, along with Xermanico. We’ll get to see this evolution in wild storytelling, going from Death Metal into Future State with the same writer and artist team, was really rewarding. We pushed them both and they both pushed each other. It’s so cool. I’m really pleased with it.

CONNER KENT AND THE SUICIDE SQUAD

And Suicide Squad! We got a movie coming out next year! What’s really exciting about this is we get back to basics on Suicide Squad. If you want to see a Suicide Squad where you’re not sure who’s going to live and who’s going to die, the Future State book is the book for you. Because we’ve got Earth-One villains, but they’re led by Conner Kent. What we see is the ultimate evolution of Amanda Waller’s plan, because now they’re on Earth-Three and Amanda Waller is dissatisfied with her role in the DC Universe, so she says, “I’m just going to go for broke with my team,” but at what cost really, especially to Conner. At what cost is her ultimate goal?

We will see that. We’ve got a wild group of teammates here, one is, I’ll give a little surprise here, it’s Clayface morphing into Martian Manhunter, and a character that you will see in the Teen Titans Future State also shows up here, along with a couple other surprises. Black Adam, of course, Future State. If you’re a fan of Grant Morrison’s DC One Million, here you go. This is Black Adam in the 853rd century. It’s really wild storytelling.

Future State runs through DC’s entire line of comics in January and February 2021. For more on Future State, the end of Dark Nights: Death Metal, or the future of DC’s multiverse, stick with Den of Geek!

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The post Looking to The Future of the DC Universe appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3j8dPsY