#Claudio everything

[mjfass]

Maybe it's from spending too much time as a Sami Zayn fan but those EC gifs. Stg all I can see is the softball he appears to have stashed in his trunks.

Oh, oh, I KNOW. Believe, I truly know…

[nextstopwonderland]

“We’re forcing Wheeler to read” - move over BCC group chat, there is a BCC BOOKCLUB!

(See another edit from this interview here)

[extracurriculargrief]

The reason why the pushing and shoving around won't work out this time is that Bryan gave Wheeler a taste of something different this summer. Patience, understanding, technical nastiness not for the sake of humilliating the other person but to prove you're better than them.

What Mox and Claudio can offer as mentors will never be enough again. It wouldn't be even if they treated him better because they have forgotten the most important aspect: Wheeler Yuta lives and breathes professional wrestling.

Bryan knows this. And you know who else knows it and even mentioned something about it last week? Nigel.

[christiancagesupporter]

he's sending honing signals trying to get hero's attention while hero's on twitter arguing with people about terry funk they're kind of perfect for eachother honestly

[thepromisedbride]

i don’t talk about bridgerton on here but just to clarify. i will not be having ANY eloise hate on this account. i will bite.

[booksandmore]

all im saying is oliver and james as antonio and sebastian from twelfth night

[faggotmox]

i missed claudio pie facing yuta bc its hard to see at the show, but God the fucking...THE FUCKING IDEA THAT CLAUDIO, WHO HAS BEEN CLOSEST TO YUTA & SUPPORTED YUTA THROUGH IT ALL INCLUDING BRYAN BEING A DICK, DOING THEIR LITTLE CRAB DANCE, TURNED SO HARD ON YUTA.

the frustration of having this kid hanger on that needs to be shown stuff & trained. bet claudio thinks if he'd had more time to train himself he could have beat bryan for the owen cup but yutas always so needy. Claudio has to always be there for yuta, win or loose or personal issue, & he's sick of it. he's sick of carrying this unviolent child that can't keep up

im gonna be sick fuck fuck fuck

[galwithalibrarycard]

You know, I never did finish and post the fic where FEATHERS ends with Bea and Ben sharing a Big Damn Kiss like it should’ve. But now I definitely will!

[longagoitwastuesday]

I'm literally both of them whenever Gojo appears and opens his mouth

[mjfass]

[demonsfate]

list of ppl abaddon hated most pre-tk8

jin (it's also complicated. but like. he blames jin for "taking everything away" from him)

heihachi (doesn't quite remember him, but remembers the pain he inflicted - also feels jin's hatred around him)

azazel (basically gave him horrible identity issues upon learning about him)

kazuya (was really annoying during the war, & tried to take everything HE wanted)

lars & alisa (was ALSO really annoying during the war)

list of ppl abaddon hates most post-tk8‎

‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎0‎. Nobody. purification takes away all his hatred. ❤️

[syringa]

ohhhfhg my god. claudio pigtails real

[hausofmamadas]

| 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

[elitehoe]

CLAUDIO IS SPINNING OKADA FUCK ITS SO BEAUTIFUL 😭

[mourningmaybells]

like I don't think leandro should have a rivalry with claudio, but Leandro spent years thinking all that he received and that was withheld from him, the only child they had to take care of, was all the love Aciano and Siyon-Elissa and everyone else was capable of giving. Seeing Claudio exist the way he does (in a villa, with a wife, with a now-dead mother and father who loved him and only him) is like an abberation of reality, and it's bringing him to the brink of a nervous breakdown. It's not so much hate, but being incapable of ever processing his existence, and so Leandro quietly pities Claudio for whatever he went through, but really it's all in his head.

[faggotmox]

the ending. let's just...talk abt the ending. okay actually let's talk abt the overall match real quick, specifically abt how bryan uses yuta.

as the match goes bry starts out strong, but eventually folds under the weight of his injuries. this leaves yuta alone during the bulk of the match, searching for bry to tag out only to never mind him in his corner. yeah we're all pointing this out. yuta suffering through his fellow trios champs beatings.

the thing is in a single's match what would bryan have done? he wouldn't have had yuta there to take the majority of the beating. bry would have pushed through & won. he would have gritted his teeth, fought through the pain, & won. but he had...a fall guy. he had yuta there so he could just roll out & lick his wounds because yuta can take his beatings for him. how little Bryan seemed to care abt his tag partner was astonishing, but he had sure to please the crowd. show the crowd, "oh wait i didn't forget abt little wheeler! promise!!! love him so much!"

then when mox & marina come out at the end, everything is going down. mox doesn't even do anything & bryan's off after him. without even thinking abt leaving yuta behind with claudio, pac, & marina. even more so mox didn't fight back at all, he was clearly leading bryan away to show yuta just how much his mentor cares abt him.

it's so easy to distract bry, he was more concerned with paying back mox/claudio than winning the match, protecting yuta, or just paying attention. like why on earth would you leave your vulernable tag partner alone in the ring with a dude who just betrayed you, a guy who has a bell hammer, & marina fucking schafir. you know they're gonna hurt wheeler. it was more important in that moment to stay in the ring with yuta to protect him, to stand together as a united front 2 v 4 instead of 1 v 1 and 1 v 3. just like during the match when bry was fine letting yuta take the beating so he could rest, he was only with yuta being attacked so he could go after his revenge.

then then...claudio has tried & tried. he tried to talk to yuta, tried to show him. he's tried, he's made the point but yuta refuse to listen. claudio never once wanted to hurt yuta, clear in every interaction they've had so far, but at what point in claudio's head is yuta hurting himself more?

the reason claudio finally laid a hand on yuta isn't bc he's angry at yuta or wants to hurt him or even punish him. no, he took the hammer to yuta to show him just where bryan was & where was the dragon? no where. Claudio had to hurt yuta to show yuta that Bryan wouldn't show up for him, too concerned abt himself to think of yuta. but claudio is still thinking of yuta so he hurt yuta so that yuta could see who was actually hurting him.

through each stage of the match claudio is hoping yuta sees his point. if he just wanted to hurt yuta then he'd have done it in the match too. he didn't. he wanted yuta to see that bry didn't give a fuck abt yuta. when that realization didn't happen claudio had to step it up, had to really show yuta what he was talking abt & begging yuta to see. so he hurt yuta hoping yuta would understand that he can't count on bryan to have his back, he can't trust vryan to be there when he needs it, he can't expect bryan to care when he's hurt.

bryan was resting while yuta got beat up.

bryan was chasing mox when yuta got attacked.

bryan was doing yes chants while yuta suffered in pain.

bryan has hurt yuta a thousand times over the last few years & claudio has been there every time to help yuta.

claudio hurt yuta once & bryan was nowhere to be found.

once i roll four blunts & get a frosty imma talk abt that match