#david barron

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: Luna de Lobo

Multiple characters | Barron x Evie (ofc) , Ramon x Raquel (Ofc) | pt 1 in a oneshot series

Day 4: Day of Conflict| fist fight + “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Read on A03

Words: 2,972

About: With the full moon hanging low in the sky, Evie can’t shake the feeling that something wild is going to happen.

Warnings: an asshole at the bar who comments on ocs weight, fist fight , blood, hookups.

Narco October prompts @narcosfandomdiscord

Evie took a left, already starting to feel the music pulsing from the venue ahead. Tonight, she’d just be a concert goer, no playing, no performing, just taking it all in and hopefully having a good night along the way.

The closer she got to the venue, the stronger the music pulsed, coming through its walls and windows, spilling out onto the street. As Evie approached the door, that same car from earlier zoomed by on the opposite side of the street, then screeching to a halt.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to a set of brown ones looking back at her. The other men spoke among themselves, laughing and giving each other shit. She thought she heard one of them ask, "what's that place?"

Evie wasn't paying attention to anyone but the man in the loose-fitting black top, with two white stripes on it. There was an intensity about him, one she could feel even with the distance.

His calm, attentive, yet “don't fuck with me” vibe made him both intimidating and hot as hell. One of the other guys, who looked younger than all of them, caught the mutual stare and commented something she couldn’t make out.

Usually if a guy was checking her out, there'd be some kind of smile or smirk added - but one never came. This guy was fucking stone. It sent a chill up her spine and turned her on all at the same time.

Evie slid her headphones off with one hand, then pulled her eyes away from the stranger.

“Hey,” she greeted the bodyguard as she turned her cd player off.

Evie glanced over her shoulder once more, seeing the driver of the car, who was also very attractive, step into the street, followed by the others.

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A03

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[tessatechaitea]

Review of June 2000's The Authority #14

[downthetubes]

Indie horror comic Flesh and Blood returns with chilling sequel, film deal announced

After a successful (and critically-acclaimed) launch earlier this year, White Hart Comics are back with the sequel to their indie horror hit, Flesh and Blood

After a successful (and critically-acclaimed) launch earlier this year, White Hart Comics are back with the sequel to their indie horror hit, Flesh and Blood. Entitled Skin and Bone, this 128-page original graphic novel offers a direct continuation of the harrowing tale about cannibals wreaking havoc in the Scottish Highlands. Set against a backdrop of corporate greed and shadowy conspiracies,…

[drabbles-mc]

Don't mind me. I was just Thinking About Them again today and came back to reread this and be in all of my feelings about them.

I truly cannot get over the tension that you're always able to create and expand on with these characters. Like sorry to NMX showrunners but Dina and Barrón are your characters now, Kay. I will start filing the copyright paperwork for you immediately. It's only right. 😌

| Chasing ghosts and choices |

⁂

Pairing: David Barrón x Enedina Arellano Félix x Claudio Vásquez

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober Fanworks collection - Day 13

Prompt: Day of Life - create a fanwork in which a character avoids their canonical death.

Word count: ≈ 1.7K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence, angst in only the way my boi does I mean just look at that face in the first gif, he’s so not a happy camperksjeb

They’d known each other too long, loved each other too much, and hurt each other too intimately and too many times to pretend they were better than exactly who they were. Okay on my life, I did not mean to do the same exact setup as @drabbles-mc fic for today. I just like am super back in my Barrón feels in a BIG fuckin way rn thanks to Bobby Soto ruining my life in A Million Miles Away skdjflsk but like weirdly and accidentally, this could be kind of a sequel to Adamant skjsldkj imsorryforeverything anyway enjoy Barrón lowkey kicking himself for saving Claudio and also being like, "aight, fine. It was the right call" bc he would never do his lady love so dirty as to purposely let her new husband die SKSKS

⁂

At the sliding glass doors of the Arellanos’ place, Barrón stood, watching the predawn fog diffuse over houses on the streets below, making itself at home in the cracks of alleyways, like the city of Tijuana was an abandoned crypt, the casitas, its tombstones, and struggled to remember the last time he’d saved someone.

Being a sicario, he didn’t have much occasion to save people. Or at least, not without tipping the scales in death’s favor in the process. And yet, reminded in a flash of memory—some fake cop’s hat flying in the air when one of his bullets sinks in the guy’s forehead and drops him almost comically like his body’d turned to lead—in this case, he’d delivered plenty to death’s door. He was nothing if not a professional, right.

Maybe it was who he’d saved that made this feel more significant than past jobs. Less delivering to death’s door, more delivering life, delivering a future with one she loved, back to her. That felt as big. Bigger even. Particularly when it ensured his own future would be the same as it ever was. Chasing ghosts and loving in silence. Playing not the fool, but a tool. A weapon. Incredibly useful if only for a precious few tasks. And in the end, who could really blame them when he was so good at it? That’s right. Nothing if not a professional.

With any luck that’d be his ticket out though, what with Mín going off the grid until things cooled down and the family figured out the next moves to make. Hopefully, he’d have a new post to look forward to, a change of scenery. If not the places then the people. Or some of them.

Because no doubt there’d be some kind of political fallout, Claudio being a district attorney and all. He was affable enough to massage it over with the public but his own family was another matter. They were probably furious, already skeptical about the match from the get. So, the Arellanos would have to measure their response carefully. And that’s just what it would have to be: a response, not a retaliation. The inconvenience of legitimacy now rearing its ugly head with such urgency, Barrón didn’t even have the fight left in him to manage a glib, ya te lo dije.

He wondered idly if maybe that was part of Chapo’s plan or just an unhappy accident, forcing the Arellanos in the public eye at such a precarious time. Not yet legitimate enough to be installed in the untouchable chilango upper class where they could retaliate with impunity, but still beholden to the higher standards of a “real” business in the eyes of the people.

As of now, it all seemed like just the most fucked game of Cat’s Cradle. Too much for a pocho from Logan Heights to untangle. It wasn’t even that strategy wasn’t his strong suit, it was more political machinations like these never much held his interest. Maybe the attempt on Claudio’s life would be enough to draw Dina back in. Give her back what she gave up. That was how Barrón had known it was real with them to begin with. She stepped back. No longer lived and breathed for the thrill of realizing the potential of the family business like she’d envisioned. Envisioned since she was a kid, a fact she’d revealed in one of their little warehouse chats when he first got there. Years ago. Back when they were– ah, fuck it. He’d chase that ghost later.

The funny thing was she did that all giving up and stepping back in a bid to keep things separate, shield Claudio from the less savory aspects of things. A bullet to the shoulder is about as good as that plan went.

Maybe this would be Dina’s time. The prospect filled him with pride. Hope. It’d be a thrill to see if it didn’t hurt so bad. And truthfully, given the choice, Barrón would rather fight back boredom-induced sleep, watching little Ruthie play with Lincoln logs in a safe house somewhere, than sit around here watching the future that he’d sacrificed his own for blossom before his very eyes. He did what he did but he didn’t have to like it.

He fished for a porro he’d rolled earlier from his pocket and removed the few stray, leafy bits of weed that had escaped out one end, before popping it between his lips and lighting up. He usually didn’t smoke in the house but considering he still hadn’t changed his shirt stained with Claudio’s blood, setting into the fibers more and more with each passing second, courtesy of a bullet that sailed clean through the guy’s shoulder, he figured he’d earned a pass from his employers. That wasn’t even the best excuse he had. Just the simplest one. What a weird fucking night.

And fuck, he was tired. The noise of the drawers of the credenza opening and closing behind him wasn’t enough to make him turn around. Shit, he might stand here forever. Five hundred years from now, they’d find him, all petrified wood, in this exact spot still staring out the window. Exhausted. Since before he could remember, exhausted.

Her voice broke the reverie and he tried not to resent it too much. He failed.

“David.”

Ugh, they’d talked about this. No first name. He hated it when she called him by his first name. Too close. A flash of red out of the corner of his eye took full shape as Dina joined him at the window, in her red silk robe, arms crossed, hair wild and free like she was the first woman.

A few tendrils of smoke curled out of Barrón’s nostrils and glided down his chin, moving lazy and listless as he felt. The question hung in his throat, thick with smoke, “How is he.”

Dina dropped her shoulders like she’d been holding her breath. “The doctor says he might lose function in his thumb and forefinger on that side, but otherwise,” she exhaled deeply, clenching her jaw to fight back tears of relief, “it looks like Claudio is going to be fine.”

“Heh,” Barrón nodded, half coughing, half chuckling, “I meant Pancho. But uh, no that’s good.” It was sincere and the most he could manage. Frankly, he was impressed he managed that much.

Head dipping forward, her shoulders shaking gently, she laughed self-consciously down at the floor. “Mi brujo, tu compa, sí se pondrá bien. Ese gatito tiene un chinga más de nueve vidas. No te preocupes.”

At that, he smirked and nodded with more heart this time.

They didn’t say anything else to each other for a while. Just stood there watching the purples of the sky brighten, the marine layer fog cooked orange by the rising sun. Down to a sliver of his joint, Barrón sighed, wishing he’d rolled another one, and cracked the sliding door to flick the butt outside. He closed it and stepped back inside to reassume his place as petrified wood but before he got both his hands in his pockets, Dina caught his wrist and slid her hand down into his. It was so stealthy and quick, Houdini’d be proud. He couldn’t place his finger on why, but it filled him with relief that she hadn’t looked at him. Merely held his hand firmly and continued staring out the window, one arm still held tightly across her chest. Yeah, that was easier.

“David. No sé como agradecerte, pero lo que has hecho por Claudio, la familia,” her voice dropped low as if she knew it should be left unsaid, “por mi,” all the while squeezing his hand. “Nunca lo olvidaré.”

He ran his thumb along her palm to let her know he was there, then hummed softly, “Pues, qué otra opción tenía?”

Echoes of the panic he’d felt when he rounded the corner, seeing Claudio crouched in a shower of broken glass, bullet exploding through his shoulder, blood dark red on his crisp blue shirt, hit Barrón like a grenade. What could’ve happened. What almost happened. If he’d gotten there just a second or two later … they both knew.

A dark and inconvenient truth of operating in a world as wild, wild west as theirs made it impossible not to consider. His job, his very nature, made it impossible to ignore: just exactly how easy it would’ve been for him to drag his feet a bit, move just a little slower, lag behind ever so slightly. That one bullet to the shoulder, turns into two in the chest, then three, then four– until. And how easy it would’ve been to play it off like a whoops, unfortunate happenstance, he’d done his best, just couldn’t make it in time, a tragedy.

The fucked thing too was ... for a fraction of a second?

He had thought about it.

He was pretty sure she knew that too or at least considered the possibility. They’d known each other too long, loved each other too much, and hurt each other too intimately and too many times to pretend they were better than exactly who they were. But that’s not how things went. Not the choice he made.

Instead, Barrón whipped around that corner, hammering Chapo and Arturo’s position so relentlessly, the gun felt almost an extension of his own arm – bullet hoses, right – while Claudio was slumped under the bar, clutching his shoulder. Instead, when their path was clear, Barrón yanked Claudio up to his feet by his good arm and offered a shoulder for him to clumsily toss the bad one over. Instead, Claudio bled all over his shirt, as he dragged them both up the steps, down the hallway, into the back kitchen where the Arellanos were waiting, and shot out the windows so they could all make their escape. Instead, he dragged Claudio, once again, to the getaway car and sat him next to his poor Panchito. Best to keep the mess in one place. No use getting blood all over the seats of two different cars.

Some would call it a choice. Then again, with her the foremost thought on his mind, the instant that first bullet ejected from the barrel of his gun into the face of a phony cop, did he really have one to begin with?

═

taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord @narcolini @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc

[jacksproject2025]

[nerds-yearbook]

In 1805, Napoleon was accidentally picked up by Time Travelers Bill and Ted and dropped off in 1988. While the time travelers were picking up other historical figures Billy the Kid, Socrates, Sigmund Freud, Beethoven, Joan of Arc, Genghis Kahn, and Abraham Lincoln, Napoleon spent his time bowling, eating ice cream and going to a water park in San Dimas, CA (Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Flm)

[pensfan4lfe2]

Montreal Canadiens || 2024-25 NHL Season

(Opening Night Roster vs TOR)

[appleberrycenter]

Support 🫡

ALSO RHP!!

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: The Beast inside

Ramón, Min, Dina, Barron, Ofc (mentions of others)

Words: 1,577 | A03

October 29 — Day of Horror | Prompt; came back wrong | @narcosfandomdiscord

✨This directly connected to Wolf Pack (another work from this month, I recommend reading that first) ✨

Warnings: shootout mentioned, shifter stuff

Gifs by the only and and only @hausofmamadas 💜*

An: the way there is so much more I wanna do here, so much more detail i wanted to give but no time. So just this one shot, this taste for now. Also, we know Barron is a bad ass and protected them but I needed my bb Min to get hurt for this to work…I have been dying to use that Alfonso gif omg! You dont understand, I’ve been 😫😫😫

Three days ago, no one in Ramón’s family knew he was a werewolf.

Now the cat’s out of the bag. But he had no other choice, not after the events at Benjamin's 40th birthday party.

That pinche pendejo Chapo assaulted them at the club. They barely made it out alive. Claudio was shot in the shoulder, and Benjamin wasn’t so lucky. As Barron led the way out, a shot came dangerously close to Ramón and Benjamin took the bullet instead.

He seemed fine, didn’t even act as hurt as he was. It wasn’t until Barron got everyone to safety that Ramón found his brother fading, a hand to his bandaged wound. It was then he learned Benjamin lost a lot more blood than he let on. Minutes later he passed out and didn’t wake up.

Ramón didn’t know what to do, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let his big brother die. So, he did the only thing that came to mind, he turned him. It was around that time Dina came to check on them and found the scene.

She was the first to know Ramón's secret.

As they stood watch over Benjamin, he eventually regained consciousness, his wound healing itself within minutes.

It would be their little secret, for now, mostly to not freak out their mother.

Dina’s head was spinning, and she didn’t know what to make of all this.

Werewolves? What the fuck….

A03

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[apenitentialprayer]

Okay, so Bishop Barron brought up a really cute parallel in today's Gospel reflection, comparing the leap of John in the womb to the dance of David before the Ark. Little fetal boogeying before the Lord.

[duranduratulsa]

Up next on my 40th Anniversary Freddy Krueger movie 🎬 🎞 🎥 🎦 📽 marathon...A Nightmare On Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge (1985) on glorious vintage Media Home Entertainment VHS 📼! #movie #movies #horror #anightmareonelmstreet #anightmareonelmstreet2 #anightmareonelmstreet2freddysrevenge #wescraven #RIPWesCraven #freddy #freddykrueger #robertenglund #markpatton #KimMyers #RobertRusler #sydneywalsh #clugulager #ripclugulager #HopeLange #Christieclark #joannwillette #MarshallBell #robertshaye #kerryremsen #jacksholder #davidchaskin #melindaofee #allisonbarron #racheltalalay #vintage #VHS #mediahomeentertainment #newlinecinema #80s #elmstreet40

[downthetubes]

Envision Entertainment soft launches new digital comics app, "Fable", at MCM London this weekend

After extensive development behind closed doors, Envision Entertainment are heading to MCM London Comic Con this weekend for the soft-launch of their new digital comics platform, Fable. Digital comics have been gaining an audience over several years now, but with rising paper and other costs impacting the cover price of print comics, publishers tell downthetubes they are discovering a surge of…

[narcosfandomdiscord]

The way you managed to essentially do a crossover AND horror AND amnesty day all in one swoop???? Iconic. Also adore the way you write from Barrón's POV *justrightblob*

| So much for my nine lives |

⁂

Pairing: David Barrón Corona & Benjamín Arellano Félix (Midnight Mass Vampire-ish AU)

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober - Day 30 - Day of Amnesty (originally Day 29 - Day of Horror)

Prompt: Came back wrong

Word count: ≈ 1.2K

TWs: Canon-consistent & vampire-related(?) violence

This was the part in the all movies where the person in my position comes to the horrible realization at what he is and what he has to do. So this is like … kinda Barrón and Mín in the universe of Midnight Mass or really like the vampire lore of Midnight Mass applied Narcos Mexico? Anyway, this is just a fun spooky, lil ditty I did. Enjoy Mín finally giving Barrón everything he ever wanted. Spoiler alert: it’s not the eternal life that matters.

⁂

Shocked awake, I sat forward sucking in deep, sweeping gusts of air that crackled through my chest, inflating my collapsed lungs. Like they were two dusty, burlap sacks, the air dragged in and out so sharply and painfully I began to cough. My shirt was caked with dust and dried blood that looked almost purple in the orange menace of the pre-dusk sun. I looked down and at the trail my body had made. Must’ve been when they dragged me into the cave.

But I was dead. Dead just then and I knew it. Now I wasn’t though. I came back somehow. Only, I came back wrong.

I remembered little before I died but the commotion at the cafe. Panicked crowd, a few rounds ejected from my gun, as I grabbed Benjamín by the collar of his jacket, screaming, “we gotta go!” and ran toward safety.

Safety. A funny word to describe Ramón and Kitty, two flashily dressed gangsters, semi autos in hand, beckoning to us from the corner where the street met the back alley road, the curb of which the Escalade was parked on. We’d been so close. I’d shoved Mín in front of me and turned around to return fire at the crowd of fatigues surrounding the armored truck across the street, just before I felt the bullet enter my chest. Then another just under my ribs.

The thing no one ever tells you about getting shot? When a projectile traveling at 1700 miles per hour enters the human body, what you feel first is the shock wave. It juggernauts through you, traversing through muscles, tissue, your very cells, so fast and forcefully, the feeling’s more akin to electrocution. It was a miracle my heart was still beating as the ground came up at me, fast, before I sank into the black.

So much for my nine lives.

Shielding my eyes from the stray beams of sun that peeked through the cracks of the cave entrance, I took a lighter from my pocket and lit it turning to face the dark side of the cave and get a better look at who or what might be inside.

Which one of them would’ve done it? Definitely not Ramón. Not enough self-control. I would’ve been an unintended afternoon snack. Hope would suggest Pancho or Dina, but common sense would suggest otherwise. The only one among them who had been at the cafe with the strength and self-restraint to do it without killing me more dead than I already was could only be Benjamín.

And yet, it was hard to imagine him, sour, overly-critical, Motherest-of-Mother-Hens, Mín valuing me enough to offer up eternity, even if he did owe me his life, what with everything I did for them that night at Christine’s. I rolled my eyes. And that was without an immortal advantage.

With a sly undertone of acknowledgment, almost an echo with my disbelief, Mín’s voice rang out from the shadows that clung to the cave walls. “Tus ojos. Se brillan como se supone que deben hacerlo.”

The eyeshine of a cat. How unsettling it had been the first time I’d caught it in Dina’s eyes. Mistook them for headlights in the lamplight of the warehouse parking lot when we were chatting shit some late night, after they’d finished the count. I’d read somewhere, probably in one of the hundreds of books I devoured, trying to fend off brain rot and existential dread in a cell at Donovan, that it was called tapetum lucidum. An extra shiny layer in the eyes of cats and other nocturnal animals that helped them see in the dark.

“What happened?”

“Your ability to maintain your composure under the strangest, most precarious of circumstances never ceases to amaze us.”

It wasn’t altogether clear if Mín was speaking for the family or if there was actually someone else there with us, the place was so dark. But as soon as I opened my mouth to ask, I was doubled over, a jagged pain drilling relentlessly into my gut, tunneling through my chest, all the way up my esophagus and into my throat. My face was close enough to the ground, the breath I expelled violently kicked dust back up into my face. The flame from the lighter snuffed out when it hit the ground next to me.

“Yeah, you’re going to need to remedy that.”

I let out a grim, stuttering chuckle that could’ve been mistaken for the growl of an animal who just felt the hinges give way, the bar of a trap finally slamming down on its neck.

This was the part in the all movies where the person in my position comes to the horrible realization at what he is and what he has to do. The part where they’re supposed to freak out, panic, clam up at the idea of killing as a way of life. But the sick thing? This wasn’t a movie and I felt not an ounce of guilt or fear at the prospect. I’d been taking human life to live for decades now. No sense in an apex predator apologizing for assuming the nature of its design. Shit, it’s not like I made the rules.

A faint skittering sound along the edge of the walls jackhammered my eardrums and before coherent thought could be formed, the soft warmth of light and heaven itself burst into my mouth, soothing the ragged itch at the back of my throat. Blood from some poor, unfortunate little rodent that had made a home in the cool of the cave leaked all over my hands, as I drew from it; hose from a hydrant.

Benjamín stepped off the wall, where he’d been standing for who knows how long and circled me slowly, waiting for me to finish. When the critter’s body finally hit the ground, he clapped a few times, observing, “Pues eso fue fácil, verdad?”

Sighing wearily, “sí, fue tan fácil,” I wiped the blood from my chin with the back of my hand.

Closing the loop, Mín approached me where I sat, still kneeling on the ground over the critter’s carcass, and picked up the lighter. He flicked it open. Light materialized next to his face, the flame illuminating his eyes, activating that telltale glow of Other. That glow which I now apparently shared with him and the rest of the Arellano siblings.

Eyes boring into his, I addressed him direct, “Why exactly am I here, Benjamín,” landing on his first name pointedly. A name I rarely used out of fear, or maybe respect, or maybe just the desire to avoid whatever grief he might be prepared to dish out to me. What was the point now? As far as I was concerned, there was none. Not when we had forever to fight. But Mín didn’t look like he was fixin’ to fight right now.

“I brought you back.”

Annoying. Not really an answer and my face said just as much.

“I brought you back because we cannot afford to lose an asset such as yourself.” Mín continued, gazing into the fire like he was some kind of ancient sorcerer, divining an answer from it, “Por muchas razones y en muchas ocasiones,” then flicked the lighter closed, “ya has demostrado lo que vales demasiado que te perdamos ahorita. And with our enemies outnumbering us, we need more than just soldiers.”

I blinked back at him slowly, almost lazy but with evident curiosity because I had no idea what the fuck he meant and I was starting to get tired and that burning in my throat was kicking up again.

He stood up, dusted off his pants, and walked toward the entrance of the cave, voice bouncing off the stony walls and getting smaller and smaller the further away he got.

“Y’know if I learned anything from my uncle’s hubris, it’s that when your back’s against the wall, the only loyalty guaranteed is that of family. And since I brought you back, the blood in your veins is blood we share.”

Just when he reached the threshold, sky outside now darkened red by the last of the sunset, Mín turned around holding out the lighter in his hand. Extended, as if to summon me. “That is what you are now, Barrón. Family.”

═

taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord, @narcolini, @ashlingnarcos, @artemiseamoon,@drabbles-mc

[tv-moments]

Say Nothing

“Theater People”

Director: Anthony Byrne

DoP: David Raedeker

[nerds-yearbook]

In 1810, Beethoven was taken to the future along with historical figures Napoleon, Billy the Kid, Socrates, Sigmund Freud, Joan of Arc, Genghis Kahn, and Abraham Lincoln by time travelers Bill and Ted. In 1988 they spent the day in San Dimas, CA (Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Flm)