Itch in Your Veins by
romanticalgirl. Generation Kill. Nate/Brad. Ensemble. NC-17. Timeline in the series.
Generation Kill is a tiny fandom. Our canon is closed. It's war-based. It's not pretty (although our boys are). It's not sweet. Or kind. Or open to mass interpretation. It's hard. And mean. And brutally real. It's offensive and rude and so very honest. It doesn't appeal to a lot of people; it doesn't attract a lot of fans or fanfare. We are very much about word of mouth. We don't have a lot of writers (maybe a dozen). We don't have a lot of artists (one, maybe two), but we have a lot of heart. And when we write this fandom, we try to make our works as epic as our canon. Our version of GK is based on an interpretation of an interpretation of an interpretation, which makes us so far removed, we're pretty much in a cave. But sometimes, in the dark, we make something really beautiful... like this story.
Or, as I said in my comment to the author about Itch in Your Veins:
This is absolutely tremendous... [and] as I carry on reading this now I'm absolutely besotted. This the story that all GK stories dream of being when they get big and start mainlining Ripped Fuel. It's beautiful and poetic and so sharp and smart and astute. God, I'm kind of afraid to read the last section, because then there will be no more. I thought my writing was just in hibernation, but with this, I think it's decided to hang up its spurs entirely. You know sometimes you (okay: I) read a story and you're envious, because you just can't execute in that particular manner, or you're in awe, because it's something you'd never think of? With this story, it seems so definitive that a part of me is like, so...
You know those stories that come along and when you're done you're like, "Well... fuck."
This is that story. It doesn't matter if you don't know the fandom. READ IT. You can thank me after.
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Generation Kill is a tiny fandom. Our canon is closed. It's war-based. It's not pretty (although our boys are). It's not sweet. Or kind. Or open to mass interpretation. It's hard. And mean. And brutally real. It's offensive and rude and so very honest. It doesn't appeal to a lot of people; it doesn't attract a lot of fans or fanfare. We are very much about word of mouth. We don't have a lot of writers (maybe a dozen). We don't have a lot of artists (one, maybe two), but we have a lot of heart. And when we write this fandom, we try to make our works as epic as our canon. Our version of GK is based on an interpretation of an interpretation of an interpretation, which makes us so far removed, we're pretty much in a cave. But sometimes, in the dark, we make something really beautiful... like this story.
Or, as I said in my comment to the author about Itch in Your Veins:
This is absolutely tremendous... [and] as I carry on reading this now I'm absolutely besotted. This the story that all GK stories dream of being when they get big and start mainlining Ripped Fuel. It's beautiful and poetic and so sharp and smart and astute. God, I'm kind of afraid to read the last section, because then there will be no more. I thought my writing was just in hibernation, but with this, I think it's decided to hang up its spurs entirely. You know sometimes you (okay: I) read a story and you're envious, because you just can't execute in that particular manner, or you're in awe, because it's something you'd never think of? With this story, it seems so definitive that a part of me is like, so...
You know those stories that come along and when you're done you're like, "Well... fuck."
This is that story. It doesn't matter if you don't know the fandom. READ IT. You can thank me after.