#Sergio looks at Andrés like ‘you were never going to tell me were you?'

[mushroomwriter]

(pt1) The hermanos really live in my head rent free askfhfkd and once again, I must thank you for being so sweet and inviting! I hope you enjoy the rambles ahead 》 Hi, hermanos anon back again! I'm finally done with my exams, thank you once again for all your kind wishes <3 I've even had a little holiday and travelling (which stresses me out) and I was rotating your answer in my head all the while... Yesss, that scene with Sergio & Martin is so painful. The emotions on both their faces are so raw and real and uff, I really love how you can see the way both of them have been hurting and grieving despite the *years* it's been since Andrés died. They truly loved him so much and I am never gonna be over it 🤧 And yes that scene on the ship where he's giving them instructions gets me too, especially this one moment where when they reach international waters everyone is cheering and going wild and Sergio smiles for like half a second before the smile just drops from his face and he looks in the distance... and you can just tell he's thinking of his brother who's not there to celebrate with him :'(

(pt2) This gets long so if you can feel free to put even my asks from here on under a cut (or maybe answer them separately? idk I hope i'm not annoying you or your followers with the wall of text and again I am SO sorry for how long this got 😭)

Now about the hermanos' childhood, I must say you've really done some magic with your words because for the past 2 years, I have clung stubbornly to my half brothers headcanon. I cannot emphasize enough how much I never vibed with the full brothers scenario. BUT. After reading your thoughts, something in me slowly softened to the idea (which I repeat I thought was impossible) and then I was reading this novel at the same time, with 2 brothers in it, and one of them is more "evil" than the other, meaner, likes to play tricks and the other is more good and kind and idealistic. Anyway, there was this one passage in the book where the mean brother lies down in his bed at night praying, begging God to "don't let me be mean" and wanting to be nicer and loved by his brother. and my brain replaced that with the hermanos growing up, and my heart squeezed in my chest and thats the moment I finally converted to the full brothers headcanon. Thank you for opening my eyes to the possibilities. Of course, the half brothers headcanon will always be first and special to me, but OMG the FEELS with the hermanos growing up together as little kids!!! I'm just taking their backstory as Shrodinger's Headcanons, since Pina clearly isn't interested in giving us anwers lmao. After this tangent, let me reply to your actual thoughts asdfjsk

Ah, I can see why s3 gave you that impression. Maybe I watched that interview before s3 becz my mind was always clear that they shared a father, so Andrés mentioning him makes sense but he also always had this kind of distance/coldness when talking abt him, even saying "He was *your father*" to Sergio in s2 by the fireplace (which makes sense if the said father abandoned him), while Sergio was the one who always sounded more fond and grieving. And when he mentioned "Mama's illness" I thought it's only Andrés' mother cause neither of them ever seemed very concerned that Sergio could have inherited the illness too? But it's interesting how preconceived notions affect the way we interpret a scene, you and me both had such different conclusions LOL. I understand, it was just the opposite direction for me, I didn't want to 'embrace' the full brothers headcanon 😅

(pt3) Yeah they even never clarified what he was sick with for HALF HIS CHILDHOOD/YOUTH!, let alone how he got better. But I'm so with you, the idea of Andrés taking Sergio to Russia and saving his life has my whole heart. Yes, you can work in the Andrés raising Sergio bit, especially because i think with their father dying and their mother's illness, they were probably orphaned at a young age either way and obviously the responsibility for Sergio would've fallen to Andrés very young, and like you mentioned even when their mom was alive he still might've been expected to look after his hermanito while they were busy trying to manage expenses. Oh, idk if you've heard of another hermanos headcanon that was popular at the time, basically that Andrés started stealing/got into a life of crime to pay Sergio's medical bills, but again, I love the idea that he used every means- legal or not to save Sergio. (Andrés' past intrigues me very much, I wish the spinoff had actually given us some answers 🥲)

OH, I loved your analysis of both scenarios and Andrés' reasons to resent their mom/Sergio. It makes all the sense, and it's heartbreaking. I also agree that it's very interesting he doesn't resent or bear any grudge against Sergio, when he easily could have. Once again, the fact that despite his unforgiving harsh personality in general, Sergio is the exception and he can see that Sergio really was just a helpless child and doesn't hold anything against him, melts my heart. AND YASSS, that's exactly one of the reasons I love the half bro hc so much. It's a Choice, and what a selfless one. Raising the son of the father(or mother) who abandoned you. I don't think many ppl would or could do that. And the fact Sergio was a sickly child too, but Andrés still took him in and didn't treat him like a burden but a beloved brother <3 I also just fell in love with the idea that Sergio thinks he's all alone in the world and then Andrés appears on the scene. Learning to trust each other. Andrés also thinking no one could love him (abandonment issues) and then he's suddenly the parental figure for a kiddo who looks to him and depends on him and loves him unconditionally, the way a child does.

(pt4) YEP, regardless of scenarios I also love the idea that it was Andrés who saved Sergio's life (and ofc, Sergio would think he can do anything. don't get me started on how Sergio would've felt when Andrés told him of the myopathy. Definitely some of his denial comes from the fact he thinks Andrés can defeat the illness, no matter if there's a cure or not) Gosh yes, Andrés would've been so proud and extra protective, we see that in the Bella ciao scene. I really think he didn't mind if he died as long as Sergio got away and gets to live a long and happy life ;___;

I would never stop screaming either if we got a new hermanos scene!!! Keep the hope alive 🤞 Hehe, I'm glad you appreciated the #hermanos angst! Oh that's great!!! As always, I am very excited for any hermanos content and I would love any gifset you make. What a coincidence lol, Richard Siken really was writing about them XD Awww, I love how you put it, that scene really does overflow with familiarity. Thinking of Toledo makes me emotional too, I'm glad I got to ramble about it with you, you made me smile too :') And if I ever get around to writing it, I'll let you know!

Omg, you're too kind, I'm relieved you don't regret the invitation yet haha. And you're happy to see my silly little rambles?? 🥺❤ So so glad our talks give you a serotonin boost too, and I hope you've been doing well. Take care, and please take your time replying to this essay 😭

PS I've read 100 years of Solitude too just last year! Feel free to tell me what you think of the book so far, I'm thinking of doing a reread <3

First of all, I'm sorry it took me SO LONG. Real life has been so busy lately, and I wanted to give you a proper reply, not a hasty one... especially considering I SO ENJOYED your rambles!!

I'm glad you managed to have a little holiday (which I hope wasn't just stressful) after your exams! If you're studying for some other exams now, well, I wish you good luck!

That scene with Martín and Sergio is definitely in the top painful scenes... Andrés is still such an open wound for both of them! Oh man, yeah, I do remember that moment of Sergio just... grieving despite the cheers and relief and it breaks my heart :(

So under a cut is it! Don't worry! I can't talk for my followers but I'm not annoyed for sure :D

What can I say... I'm happily impressed to know I softened you a little to the full-brothers scenario 💕💕 Also because I was maybe a little worried I rambled a bit too much about that scenario, so I'm glad you did like it! And please, associating that quote to the hermanos fcking killed me :( YES I think Shrodinger's Headcanons is the best way to go for their childhood! Like, as I said I went "naturally" for the full-brothers headcanon but there are aspects of the half-brothers headcanon that really melt my heart, so I want to keep them both! lol, Pina decided to give us NOTHING and so now we decided to take double the answers!

Yeah, it makes so much sense... it's truly interesting to see how the same scenes can be interpreted in different ways and how one preconceived notion can, as you said, make us end up with totally different conclusion...

I KNOW! I absolutely expected they'd let us know something more about Sergio's childhood illness, but nothing lol! I don't know if I had heard of the "Andrés got into stealing for Sergio" headcanon, like I definitely had that thought but I can't remember if it was because of fandom influence or not... either way, I'm so ON BOARD with it! (I guess the spinoff at least leaves us very free to headcanon at our hearts' content...)

I'm happy you loved my thoughts about Andrés and the reasons he'd have to resent Sergio, it's something I love to chew on! And YEAH EXACTLY, I mean, especially considering Andrés' whole character, 'selfless' is not exactly the first word that comes to mind to describe him, so thinking of him deciding to take care of this sick child he didn't even know, son of the parent who abandoned him, when Andrés himself was probably still pretty young... ahhhh! And little Sergio thinking he doesn't matter to anyone anymore, he's nothing but a burden now, but then Andrés appears and takes him in... I'm melting. And now you're making me crazy with the thought of Andrés, whose experience in terms of relationships is really not great, who considers himself really hard to love, getting this kid who loves him unconditionally and trusts him and looks up to him... woah. He was probably flabbergasted. "what's this??? UNCONDITIONAL LOVE??"

The idea of Andrés saving Sergio's life also ties nicely with Sergio's reaction when he learned about Andrés' illness, he was there like "let's forget about the robbery and let's go abroad in search of a cure" he wanted to do exactly what his brother had done for him!! And yeah, I think even after Andrés crushed that idea a part of him never stopped holding a bit of hope! As for Andrés, he would absolutely consider "I die but Sergio lives happily" a great scenario and I want to scream!

I'll keep hoping for new hermanos scenes 🤞 Thank you! That gifset is still a work in progress, I got a bit stumped because the scenes I picked are all so dark and my attempts to colour them have been pretty disastrous lmao but I'll try again! Also just so you know, I keep thinking about "you wouldn't be there to catch me" in relation to the hermanos' relationship and I CRY. (Thanks about the fic!)

I'm SO HAPPY to see your silly little rambles you have no idea 🥺❤ Also when I got these messages specifically I wasn't feeling great, like, physically (I had a bit of a migraine), therefore I was pretty unhappy, but your words really lifted my mood! And again, I'm so so sorry it took me so long to reply this time, I really hope you'll see this answer anyway...

PS. Oh, nice! 100 years of solitude is one of the things I had to put on hold lately, but I really want to get back to it because YES I was really enjoying it! I'm also lowkey obsessed with the opening lines, it's really the kind of beginning that makes you want to read the whole book immediately to find out how's that Aureliano ended up there! (We also had to translate that first part for class and later analyse the official Italian translations and I enjoyed it so much...) What about you? Did you end up doing that reread?

[veterveter]

Soulmates au pls!

send me a (horribly cliched) au + a pairing for a drabble/ficlet/fic!

Martín’s heavy sigh dramatically commands Andrés’s attention, and Andrés turns to look at him.

He finds Martín perched on the edge of the sofa, a half-drunk beer by his knee, a solemn look on his face, his tie loose around his neck. Debauchery. He looks like he belongs in the era where gay men died for their illicit love.

Andrés has painted him many times, but he wants to do it again, now. The shadows his body paints provide magnificent contrasts, full of emotion. His posture is effortlessly beautiful, and the lines he’s made out of are the perfect mixture of sharp and soft. Andrés could steal any painting from any gallery and replace it with Martín, and no one would mind. They would simply look at him and marvel.

“This is going to be stupid,” Martín starts in a quiet drawl, the alcohol having done its work in loosening his tongue.

Andrés nods, to show he’s listening, but says nothing. Allows Martín space to say his piece.

Martín waits a few beats before continuing. “I just… Wonder, sometimes. I have a soulmate, right?” He demonstratively gestures at his left wrist. He never covers it, doesn’t seem to believe it’s anything clandestine. Often, he rubs a thumb across the letters. Sorry, they read, written in Andrés’s sloppy and slanted handwriting, not the careful cursive he has come to favour since meeting Martín. The first thing he said to Martín, cautiously chosen to conceal its weight. “That’s why I have this. Right?”

“Of course you have a soulmate,” Andrés reassures him languidly, gesturing with his own beer.

Everyone has one, he doesn’t say.

And I just so happen to be yours, he certainly doesn’t confess.

Martín rarely brings this up, seldom complains. He clearly thinks about it often, but he doesn’t allow that uncertainty and sorrow to define him, and Andrés appreciates that. He appreciates his soulmate.

“I mean, many people have said this to me, first thing. Mostly people I’ve never seen again, but a couple of friends as well. Matías, from my engineering course.” He grimaces. “Oh, and Mirko.”

Something about Martín’s previous roommate irritates Andrés, but he doesn’t allow himself to comment.

“And, well, you.”

The way Martín doesn’t even allow himself to entertain that thought, it makes Andrés want to make mistakes. It makes him want to not only paint Martín, but also dip his fingers in ink and trace Martín’s every muscle, tendon and ligament.

“But nothing’s ever…” Martín sighs, “Maybe I’ll say something so mundane that neither of us will ever even know.”

Well, that’s not a worry Martín should be having.

Andrés’s own soulmark is… different from Martín’s, to say the least.

La concha de tu madre, hijo de puta, honestly what the fucking fuck is this, you fucker, puta madre; words that stubbornly refuse to wrap around his wrist, but rather spread down his forearm, covering more than half of it in a hurried, sharp scrawl. Martín’s. Andrés has stolen so many of his notes over the years, just to look at them and admire that thought. This is his soulmate.

When Andrés first met Martín, who had just crashed his bike and would earn seven stitches down the length of his arm, Andrés felt… caught off guard. Exposed, somehow. He used to always wonder what kind of a woman would curse like this, but he never even stopped to consider the full implications of those thoughts.

Him and Martín have slotted into place, since that day. Martín seems to never have even questioned it; one moment he was yelling at Andrés in the middle of a crowded street, and the next they had struck a fast friendship on their way to the hospital, Martín’s blood all over both of their clothes. Ever since then, Andrés has always been able to trust his companionship, his loyalty.

It’s such an obvious match that it feels laughable, to imagine someone else by his side. No one else is Martín, after all. To be made whole by someone else? Blasphemy.

“He’ll be drawn to you, regardless of what you say.”

“I suppose,” Martín agrees, nodding to himself. Trying to make it so, he turns his wrist over to inspect his soulmark. Every time he does this, something in Andrés soars. That one word, which Martín has always turned to, in times of uncertainty. Andrés has always been such a fundamental part of his life, even before they met. “I hope we’ll get along. I can’t imagine…” he trails off, looks at Andrés.

The implication is as clear as it is flattering, and Andrés smirks at him.

“Shut up,” Martín huffs, like he hadn’t just been making quite a statement, takes a swig of his beer. “I just mean, I can’t imagine what they’re like. My soulmate.”

That’s a sentiment Andrés gets. He has come to understand, in hindsight, that it would have been impossible to imagine everything Martín is, every single way in which they complement each other. It’s impossible to imagine anyone else taking that place, either.

Andrés wasn’t ready, when he first met Martín. And he’s still not ready now.

But he’s starting to feel like soon he will be.

“You’ll meet him,” Andrés says, reaching out to trace his own handwriting on Martín’s skin with careful fingertips. Martín lets him. Martín has never stopped him from doing this, no matter how private, how intimate. “And he will worship the ground you walk upon. I have no doubts about it.”

Martín draws a deep breath, closes his eyes, opens them again. “I’m not sure I want them,” he confesses suddenly, entrusting Andrés with this enormous weight he has been carrying. The doubts that must have plagued him at night.

Andrés doesn’t know how to answer that; a declaration of love, one of such weight. Martín thinking he’s destined to be with someone else, and choosing to tell Andrés this regardless.

Andrés is not ready yet.

But soon, he will be.

“Of course you will want him,” he reiterates, because he wants Martín to think back to this conversation, once all the cards are finally on the table. “You’ll be a perfect match.”

[blorbosexterminator]

Cleaning my docs and found this Berlín and Nairobi afterlife drapple from 2020 or something lmfao.

"Well, we had to help the poor child," Nairobi continued catching him up on events. "And the professor had another plan, thank god, a crazy one, and of course we all said yes. It was your plan, as far as I'm aware."

"The Gold?" he whispered, almost in reverence.

"Yes, it was beautiful, Berlín, stunning. But of course, it was somehow even worse than the mint. This new leader, Palermo- god and I thought you were bad, he was absolutely insane–"

"Palermo?" he said, his eyes shimmering, a smile growing his face. "Martín?"

"That's his name? Well, this piece of shit unleashed Gandia—"she took a breath, the memory still hurts"—Who killed me."

"Is he well? What does he look like? He would be quite older now-"

"I just told you Gandia-"

"How brilliant was he? Did he melt our gold?" Berlin continued, giving her no break.

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"Does he have grey hair yet? It would do wonders for his blue eyes!" He seemed to be bothering her intentionally now, with a mischievous grin on his face. 

"Oh, not you too."

"What do you mean not me too?"

"Oh, now you hear me? I had to live with Helsinki, I'm not doing this again."

He raised an eyebrow. That at least seemed to surprise him. Not in a pleasant way.

"What? You don't want to hear about his blue eyes anymore?" She teased and he glared at her. "Not that they are really that blue anymore. Sad thing's eyes are nothing but red now. All torn and bloody."

"What? What the hell happened to him?"

"Gandia. Almost blinded him entirely. He tried to play the hero, well, I can see where he got it from."

"The bastard. The bastard. When Martín sends him here, I'll eat him alive, I'll chew out his-"

"Would have loved that reaction when I told you he killed me."

"Well, well." He shrugged away with his hand, "I won't complain about getting to see you again, Nairobi." He grinned up at her and she laughed. "But do tell me, how is he? And how is Sergio? What are they like now?"

"Your brother is doing well. Went behind our backs and settled down with the inspectora. Surprised us all. As for Palermo, sad, mostly. Broken." 

Berlín swallowed visibly. "No–"

"Oh, yes. He never moved on after your death, it seems. And now we all had to hear about his horrific lover and beloved speeches and his worse Boom Boom Ciao speeches. Disgusting pig."

He smiled fondly. "Oh, he always had those. It's not my fault."

"Of course not, cariño. Nothing is ever your fault."

"I thought he would move on."

"I don't think he knows what moving on is."

Andrés shook his head.

"You seem aware of his feelings. You seem to return them. Why did you leave?" She was just curious.

"He was going to follow me to my inevitable death. I couldn't allow it." Inevitable, Nairobi didn't like the sound of it. Even now, three years later, with her dead alongside him, the bang of guilt that comes with this memory is something that shakes her.

She huffed. And he continued, "Sometimes you have to let go of what you love most and hope–"

"That it returns?"

He shook his head. "That it never does." He paused and smiled sadly. "Martín had his whole life ahead of him. I couldn't tie him to a dying man."

"You can't tie him to anything," she murmured bitterly. "You tie him and he whispers in the ears of a professional assassin, gets him to break free, chase your entire team in a death trap, almost kill three of them, kills one of them, terrorizes the hostag-"

"I'm sure he had his reasons."

"I'm dead."

"So am I. And might I remind you, you had your fair share to do with it. Call it a payback."

"Asshole." She punched him in the arm, laughing. But then shrugged. "Fair enough."

[roccinan]

“Blood? Oh, it’s not mine.” or “I’m good, I promise.” 👀👀

I decided to do both ;)

Injury and Illness Denial Prompts

Sergio lay awake, listening to the walls rattle and the drunken rambles of whoever stayed in the next room over. He flipped on his side, pyjamas stiff, the blanket too scratchy above his head. There was a musty smell to the bed he didn’t like, and a heater that he doubted could work. But he supposed it didn’t matter in the summer weather. And Andrés told him that they wouldn’t stay here for long. 

It was better, he admitted, than the stuffy cab they’d sheltered in for the past two days, most of it spent playing the radio while Andrés rolled the windows down. Then the car broke down, and here they were. Andrés told him not to be too concerned because the taxi was never theirs anyway. 

“Get cleaned up,” his brother had said, pulling Sergio’s suitcase out of the trunk, “have a nice long nap and we’ll be in sweet Paris soon enough.”

Andrés claimed to know a woman in Paris. Then the destination had changed to Brussels, and then bizarrely enough, St. Petersburg. Sergio was quite certain Andrés had no idea where they were going or how they were going to get there. And always, it was with the promise of lavish dinners and golden lights. (They shared a bowl of leftover gazpacho that night, under the shine of flickering neon from the tacky storefront across the street because the electricity had shot out in the little motel.)

Still, it was better than the hospital. His lungs worked and he wasn’t so weak he couldn’t take care of himself. Sergio curled his legs in, tighter into a ball. It was a trick Papa taught him, meant to calm his nerves. The night was dragging on, his stomach was since empty, and Andrés still had not returned.

His mind was already jumping places- go to the front desk, tell them your brother disappeared, your parents are dead, you have nowhere to go- and he hated himself immediately. Andrés was coming back. And he was going to take Sergio with him to Paris, or wherever else, once he had the means.

The door unlocked. Alert, Sergio lifted his head, the rest of his frame following as a figure stepped in. Andrés, heaving for breath, and smearing something along the inside of his jacket, a piece of brown leather that once belonged to a friend Sergio never knew. 

“Andrés?”

But Andrés didn’t answer. He shuffled to the bathroom instead, steadying himself along the way, as if oblivious to Sergio’s presence.

Sergio pushed the blanket aside. He replaced his glasses, and swiftly, grabbed the box of matches Andrés left behind. He lit the candle (a cheap birthday decoration the front desk had given them when Andrés complained about the lights), and held it out. 

There was something on the wall. He approached, swallowing as it made itself clear: blood, spread out in the shape of a hand. Smearing into the bathroom.

“Andrés,” he said again, meeker than he wanted, “are you okay?”

He backed up, startled by his brother appearing then. Andrés was in front of the candle, his lips pale, sweat clinging to the top of his brow, the collar of his shirt thoroughly ruffled. A faint bruise at the end of his eye. He smiled, sharp enough to make Sergio shudder.

“You missed me, hermanito?”

Sergio’s eyes wandered to Andrés’ waist, one of his hands still hidden under the jacket. “You were gone for a while, I thought-”

“You’re a big boy. You can sleep without me for one night.” 

“That’s not-”

A sweaty palm ruffled his hair, Andrés chuckling like a tumbleweed. “I came back, didn’t I? As if I’d let my little professor spend the night alone.”

Andrés removed his hand, and again ignoring Sergio, moved to the chair in the corner. He fell into it with uncharacteristic clumsiness, and drew the jacket tighter around his sides. Sergio stayed standing, looking between Andrés and the bathroom. And the blood on the wall. 

“Andrés, you’re bleeding.”

Without sparing him a glance, Andrés pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket. Wrinkled, crumbly, and stained with cherry red. “Hm?”

“There’s blood on you.”

“Blood?” Andrés blinked, as if now noticing the stains around him. “Oh, it’s not mine.”

Sergio did not find that any more comforting. He walked up to him, sticking a hand over Andrés’ forehead. “You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.” Andrés swatted him away. “Go back to bed, hermanito- we’re going to Barcelona tomorrow.”

It was supposed to be Paris. 

Sergio wanted to say no. He wanted to drag Andrés over to bed and ask him where he was hurt. He wanted to tell Andrés, “you always do this.” He wanted to yell at him, stomp his feet, and say he never asked for any of this. But as always, Sergio nodded and climbed back into bed.

He shut his eyes but he didn’t sleep. Until he did.

In the morning, Sergio glimpsed a sewing needle in the trash, smelling of iron and wrapped in toilet paper stained with dried blood. The end of a thread still clung to it, the strand still fresh with red. 

---BONUS---

“I’m good, I promise.”

Martín was still saying something on the other end, but Andrés chose then to end the call. He pocketed the phone, a flip burner that would soon be out of battery anyway. Maybe the divorce had gotten to his mind, or perhaps it was one cocktail too many, but- as the rest of his companions insinuated- he had hardly been in his right mind. The robbery had ended in disaster, their muscle arrested, and a fingerprint left at the scene. 

He’d flown too high, like Icarus upon the sun. And now he was trudging through backlit streets, clutching broken ribs in place and trying to ignore the bullet in his arm. The worst part was the mud on his shoes, designer leather that he would never clean out at this rate. He supposed the second worst part was Martín lecturing him in a tone irritatingly similar to Sergio’s on his most pedantic days, the two of them for once not on the exact same wave of thought.

“You could have gotten all of us killed, or thrown behind bars. We talked about this, Andrés- I mapped out everything for you-”

“But I didn’t get anyone killed, did I? If you’ll recall, I was the only casualty.”

“La concha de tu madre! You could have gotten yourself killed and where would that leave the rest of us? What the fuck, Andrés-”

“And here I thought you thrived on spontaneity. Or was that just an act?”

“You know what was an act? Whatever the fuck you were doing today-”

And so on. Until Martín’s rant circled back to the state of his battered body and whether or not he could make it back to the safehouse on his own. I’m good, I promise. It was true enough. It wasn’t a lie. He could walk. He could breathe. Perfectly cognizant of his surroundings. (And he’d been humiliated enough in one day as it was; he was not going to let Martín pull him over like some kind of injured dog on the road. Andrés was more than happy to rescue, he was not going to be rescued.)

He was about to turn out of the alley when a grip closed around his torn arm, the pressure producing a cry in spite of himself. It pulled him back into the dark, and then his back slammed into bricks, head cracking against the wall in a flurry of red. 

“Hijo de puta,” a heated voice huffed, “don’t go to sleep-”

An arm pushed over his chest, pressuring the broken ribcage with such malice his breath cut short.

“You left me to die,” the voice hissed, “piece of shit-”

Andrés managed to spit a chuckle into the bastard’s face. “You knew what you were getting into, my dear friend. Nothing stipulated that we had to babysit you.”

The pressure grew, practically pushing his ribs into the wall behind. 

“-So you only have yourself to blame,” Andrés wheezed.

His companion evidently took offense to the answer, because he was met with a punch to the nose, cartilage splitting under an angry knuckle. The next blow met his cheekbone before cracking over his mouth. He tasted mouthfuls of blood, head absently spinning side to side as the punches continued.

The bastard’s other hand kept him from slumping forward, kept pinned to the wall. Andrés stared at the blood on his collar, quite aware of the rouge still trailing from his nose and coloring his jaw. His vision blurred again when another fist struck him in the gut. 

This time, he did slump, unceremoniously buckling into his associate’s arms. And judging from the fingers digging into the bullet wound, the son of a bitch had no desire to let him go any time soon. He hit the wall again, bricks scraping his face as the bastard folded his arms behind his back, a burning grip on the injury. Hot blood leaked out. 

“By the time I’m done, you’ll wish you were dead,” was the ensuing threat, followed by elbows digging to his shoulders, shoving him flat.

He stifled a moan, shattered ribs grinding under the weight of it all. And still, he heard himself grit out, “I look forward to it.”

He very much did not. 

(Andrés was somewhat sure he was more broken bones than man by the time the inconvenience had passed. Uncertain which parts of him still worked and which were now shreds. Each breath shot a needle into his lungs. The less said about the blood soaking his limbs, the better. Crawling, let alone walking, was currently too daunting a task, and he’d forgotten the taste of anything except iron. But when Martín called again, he still picked up- on twisted fingers- and said, “I’m good, I promise.”) 

[fantasywritten]

@rahge:

with dry eyes and blank stare does akina mori tremble on the bloodied stretcher ; someone grips her shoulders and steadies her , the bullet left her body but her side is still bleeding . better news , berlín is gripping her shoulders and watching the doctor work . breathless , she looks scared sometimes , gasps , but she's not crying . a trembling hand grips onto his wrist . small beads of sweat had formed on porcelain like flesh ; was it police's gun or theirs ? she was standing there at the wrong time . whispering , digging her nails into his flesh ; ❛ i will kill you . . . when i get ba- back up . . ❜ / for berlín hehe

THE DOCTORS were telling him to stand back, to give them some space to work, to let go of Akina’s shoulders, but Andrés had never been a rule-follower. He hadn’t shot her, it was the FUCKING POLICE, stupid enough to mistake her as one of the robbers. Andrés knew what it was like to be shot. He’d found himself at the wrong end of a gun before. That moment when the trigger is pulled… how could one FORGET the feeling? And now, here he was, grasping the shoulders of the woman he’d so carelessly allowed to become important to him. This was why Sergio had made the rule in the first place, wasn’t it? DON’T GET ATTACHED. But, again, Andrés had never been a rule-follower.

“Tranquila, cariño.” Maybe he’s speaking Spanish because he knows she might not fully understand him, or maybe it’s because looking at her makes him feel SICK TO HIS STOMACH, too sick to even translate his words. “Tu vas a estar bien.” Finally, he pulls it together enough to speak in English, squeezing her shoulders lightly to get her attention. “I’m here. LOOK at me.”

[dormarunt]

okay but even if Andrés' sexual orientation is debatable, his romantic feelings for Martín were explicitely stated. Like, after that "never felt anything similar with any women" line they can't go back in the spin-off and ignore this relationship in favor of a less meaningful one with a woman, no?

Yeah! Or at least to me, it wouldn't make sense to ignore it - but will they specifically focus on it? Who knows. They clearly don't shy away from the gay Berlermo so they might.

As long as we get Martin in the spinoff as well, which is to say - it's set before the chapel - they could very well address that. But whether it will be a focus-- i don't know. I'd love it to be, for so many reasons, but there's no way of knowing tbh.

Andres has five wives, so they have plenty of options if they want to feature a wife or two. Maybe they'll want to focus precisely on his struggles with sexuality/romantic feelings and they'll have to contrast that relationship to the one he has with Martin. Like we get to see Andres and a wife/girlfriend, and then see him interact with Martin, under Sergio's suddenly comprehending eyes. On the show we got Sergio tell Andres that Martin is in love with him - so what better time for him to truly notice that than when Andres is in a relationship? Also - we get to see Sergio get to that realization, and his decision to not mention it until he does it in canon, which could be interesting.

But. It all depends on what Pina (& Netflix, possibly) want tbh. If they want to make the series an action-oriented one or a character-driven one. If they want to lean into this aspect of coming to terms with one's sexuality/feelings. (although, what with the success of Our Flag Means Death, they might be more emboldened to pursue that path; who knows) If on the contrary, they want to have a ~broader appeal, we might be left hanging in the "pining looks from Martin and an inexplicably intimate relationship between them" realm. Especially given that Andres consciously confronts his feelings and Martin's only in that chapel, so right at the end of their relationship.

Also - canon. I don't know if this is in any way relevant but i re-watched recently that scene with Berlin and Rio in episode 2, where he goes "do you know what five divorces mean? Five times that I believed in love." Ofc Martin didn't even exist when they wrote that, but now that the show is done and we know what we know - I wonder how we can view that sentence in the context of what he felt for Martin. He only mentions marriages (and divorces) in relation to "believing in love" - but what about his love for Martin? Does he not count it at all? Does he not mention it because it's different, special, and it wasn't a "disappointment" like the marriages were? 

[hefellfordean]

everybody wants you

the tatiana rafael andrés scene from part 5 ep 1 but make it berlermo cause we got nothing in the show

read it on ao3

Copenhagen isn’t as bad as Martín expected. It’s sunny most of the time and it doesn’t smell like fish like he’d been led to believe. Andrés has been unusually insufferable though, dragging him from one shop to the next, buying pointlessly expensive things and generally being a nuisance.

“Andrés, I’m going to kill you if we go into one more shop without you buying me a drink first.”

Andrés rolls his eyes but guides Martín to an undoubtedly overpriced restaurant. “You wouldn’t really kill me, would you, mi amor?” he asks when they’re seated.

Martín shrugs and pretends to be thinking it over. “Probably not. Pull another stunt like you did at the monastery though and I might consider it.”

Andrés sighs and waves a waiter over. “Two glasses of the house red please,” he says, then turns his attention back to Martín. “I thought you forgave me for that when you married me? What more do you want me to do? I can hardly marry you again, cariño.”

“You could try,” Martín says, then narrows his eyes, when Andrés shifts. “What’s wrong? Why are you sweating like a whore in church?”

“I’m not, I’m completely fine.”

“Liar.”

“Martín.”

“Andrés… tell me. Now.”

Martín stares him down until finally he smiles, the curve of it tinged with something that’s not quite guilt. “I’ve invited my son to Copenhagen.”

“Your son,” Martín repeats.

“Yes, Rafael.”

“The one you blame for ruining your relationship with your second wife?”

“First wife,” Andrés corrects. “But yes.”

Martín sips the wine they’ve been brought. “Why?”

Andrés shrugs and grins widely. “Isn’t it time I taught him all the things a father should teach a son?”

“Like how to pull off the perfect heist?”

“Exactly.” Andrés reaches out, gently grasping Martín’s chin and pulling him into a kiss.

“Interesting,” Martín says, the taste of Andrés and red wine lingering on his lips. “So I finally get to meet him?”

Andrés nods, picking up his menu. “Of course. Though… Maybe it’s best I speak to him alone first. He’s arriving tomorrow, why don’t you meet us in a restaurant?”

Martín frowns. “Why?”

“Because he has had a poor reaction to meeting my wives in the past.”

“I’m not one of your wives,” Martín snaps, but Andrés just smiles crookedly.

“I know. Drink up so we can go home and I can prove it to you.”

Martín rolls his eyes as Andrés laughs. “Wine and dine me first, then tomorrow I’ll meet your spawn.”

“And tonight?”

“Well, this is a honeymoon, isn’t it?”

-

Martín had seen a photo of Rafael once. It was buried deep in a box of Andrés’ papers and the little boy in that picture looked nothing like the twitchy young man sitting in the restaurant. He’s talking to Andrés and when Martín strides towards him in an outfit Andrés had insisted on buying him when they were in Paris a few months ago, he looks nothing but annoyed.

“You brought your heist partner to our family lunch?” Rafael asks.

“Husband,” Andrés states, smiling up at Martín who continues to watch whom he supposes must be his stepson. “This is a family honeymoon.”

Martín wrinkles his nose and Rafael blinks at him, looking dumbstruck in a way Andrés never does – it does make him look a lot like Sergio though. Martín grins when Andrés leans forward to kiss him and Rafael looks away awkwardly. Very much like Sergio then.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Rafael announces, hurrying away.

Martín raises his eyebrows. “Is he okay?”

Andrés kisses him again, then nods when he pulls away. “He’s slightly annoyed. He didn’t know you were coming.”

“You’re an idiot,” Martín says, leaning into the hand Andrés presses to his waist. “Did you at least tell him that he’s here for a heist?”

“Oh, cariño, the really important things in life are always unexpected. Case and point,” Andrés gestures at Martín and the ring on his finger.

Martín snorts. “This wasn’t unexpected to anyone but you, mi amor. I’m still not entirely sure we need him though. I’m an engineer too.”

Andrés kisses him again, placatingly, before ushering him into a seat. “I know. But this is cyber security and slightly outside of your skillset. Besides, I paid all that money for him to go to MIT, it’s time for him to pay me back.”

Rafael returns eventually and lunch thankfully doesn’t continue as awkwardly as it began. Martín and Rafael have a love of engineering in common and the boy is smart as a whip.

“Why didn’t you tell me your son was so interesting?” Martín teases. “Finally someone who understands me when I talk equations.”

“That’s what Sergio is for,” Andrés says blandly as Rafael colours bashfully.

“I’m going to the bathroom, order me more wine,” Martín requests and Andrés nods.

“Of course, mi amor.”

-

Andrés watches Martín walk away, hips moving sinfully through the busy restaurant, before he rounds on his son.

“Are you making eyes at my husband?”

Rafael stammers. “Seriously, papa?”

Andrés scowls. “You’ve been making passes at him all afternoon.”

“I’m just being polite,” the boy insists.

“You’re flirting!”

Rafael tries to recover the situation. “Maybe you misinterpreted something I did or –“

Andrés cuts him off. “Look me in the eyes,” he demands. “Do you find him attractive?”

Rafael twitches nervously, tripping over himself to form a sentence that doesn’t sound incriminating. It’s proof enough, really. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Yes or no, Rafael?”

“Well, I think he’s… pretty – or handsome. Handsome.”

Andrés leans forward and a part of him wonders whether he should be enjoying the way the jealousy floods him this much, whether he should be playing this game with his own son.

“Would you make love to my husband? Would you fuck him?”

Rafael looks away, too embarrassed by even the suggestion of sex. “I suppose… if the situation were different. If you didn’t have a formal relationship with him…”

“Marriage,” Andrés corrects.

“Yes,” Rafael says. “Marriage.”

Andrés leans back again, allowing a smile to play across his face. Watches how unsure Rafael is of the situation and how to react. “It’s flattering… that young man like you wants to butter my husband’s bun. I didn’t even know you were interested in that sort of thing.”

“I didn’t know you were,” Rafael mumbles and Andrés almost laughs at the gall. Almost.

He grins wider, to throw him off. “Not always. Just with him. He is… exceptional.” Rafael nods, agreeing a little too sincerely and the smile disappears from Andrés’ face. “It’s flattering, but I won’t tolerate it, Rafael. He is mine. Understood?”

Rafael nods, looking down at the table and Andrés decides to return to the issue at hand. The heist.

-

There’s a strange energy at the table when Martín returns, but it seems Rafael has agreed to the heist. They continue to discuss the plan, but Martín notices the looks Rafael is throwing him and the ones Andrés is giving his son in return.

When they finally leave the restaurant, bidding Rafael farewell and inviting him to their suite for breakfast, Martín wastes no time in cornering Andrés. He pushes him into the gap between two boutiques, smirking when Andrés’ hands immediately settle on his hips.

“What is going on with you and your son?” Andrés opens his mouth to lie and Martín cuts him off. “Don’t say nothing. What happened while I was gone?”

Andrés shakes his head, curling his fingers more tightly into Martín’s jacket. “Nothing you need to worry about. I just imparted some fatherly wisdom.”

“Which was what, exactly?” Martín asks, pressing a kiss to Andrés’ jaw when he hesitates. “Tell me.”

“I was just reminding him that while I am a thief and he would do well as one too, I won’t allow him to covet what is mine.”

“Covet,” Martín repeats teasingly. “Biblical.”

“Hmm, it is rather.”

Martín laughs, stretching just a little to brush his mouth along Andrés’ cheek. “Mi amor, you’re a fool if you think I’m at all interested in a knock-off when I’ve got the original right here.”

Andrés smiles the way he does when his ego is being inflated and Martín kisses him again.

“Besides,” he says when they part. “He’s too much like Sergio.”

[pedroalonso]

it’s so funny to me how the fandom is so divided about palermo’s development there is no middle ground in any of the arguments i’ve seen so far

Martín has always been a divisive character from the start and I honestly love that for him. lmao. But yeah, In truth, I can’t scroll through the LCDP tag without seeing someone ranting about Palermo, either negatively or positively regarding his arc this season.

And after thinking about it for a while, I realize that a large chunk of people’s arguments (my own included) are deeply rooted in personal interpretation and biases. We all have our own takes on a character. We project either our likes or dislikes on them, depending on our own life experiences and beliefs. It’s not wrong to do so, it’s literally a normal thing humans do. To personalize a story in a way that resonates with them.

But at the end of the day, characters are not sentient beings. They are narrative tools to tell a story and move the plot forward. While we can get a gauge of the “basics” of a character from the stuff we are presented with in canon, we can never really be certain about “who they are” because they aren’t real. Their development is dependent on what kind of story is being told, and writers will always adjust their characters to fit the current narrative.

In terms of Volume 1, the writers have always hinted that they wanted to make the final season “an explosive one”, meaning they wanted to make it more action heavy. And looking back on it now, they succeeded in doing what they set out to do. The new season was like an action movie. Lots of gunfire. Explosions. It’s easy to brush it off as LCDP mimicking another Hollywood blockbuster to increase viewership, but I think it made sense. It showed us how dire their situation is in the bank. How much deep shit they were in that the military was willing to bomb the building and inadvertently kill hostages just to catch them. And the first volume ended with the MAIN CHARACTER getting killed off. Like the stakes were so high not even the goddamn narrator survived. The show is literally telling us how fucked things are for the band.

So with that said, the characters adjusted to this “action” movie vibe the writers wanted to go with. And I think they all acted accordingly. There was less conflict within the group because they worked together to beat a common enemy, setting aside their personal issues to get the job done and survive. And while it’s true that some character arcs (Palermo’s especially) had to be set aside, it was because they HAD to in order to move the plot forward. How much sense would it make if Martín kept raving on about the gold when the Bank was literally exploding around him? He’s a chaotic asshole, yeah. But give him more credit than that, he’s not an idiot. The gold can wait. He needs to survive NOW.

And again, narrative wise, who he is in Part 5 directly connects to his last scene in Part 4. He made a promise to do better and they followed it through in literally the first episode of Volume 1, where he’s shown to be more remorseful for his actions. If he just went back to being an angry asshole, it wouldn’t have made sense because otherwise, what was his last scene in Part 4 supposed to be for?? Just for funsies?? No, of course not. They were already foreshadowing where his arc was heading in Part 5.

And I know LCDP sucks at maintaining continuity. There are a lot of plotholes that haven’t been addressed because they probably forgot about it or deemed it unnecessary. (Like me, for example, wondering if Martín knows it was Helsinki who blew up the tunnel that resulted in Andrés death??? Like I want that angst PLEASE).

But, hear me out. What LCDP fails in continuity, they make up for emotional terrorism. Not only are they more than capable of killing off likable characters (NAAAAIROBI), they are also very good at making unlikeable characters… not always loveable. But understandable, in a way. More empathetic. For example: Berlin was 100% a disgusting dipshit in the Mint, yes, but in the end when he sacrifices himself to save the gang and you find out he and the Professor were brothers this whole time? That was a twist. Maybe you didn’t end up liking Berlin, but you felt pain for Sergio for losing someone so obviously dear to him. They made you feel sorry for seeing this asshole go.

Which brings me to my final point. Characters are used to convey a theme. What do they represent in the story? Berlin’s thematic arc in the first two seasons, for example, was him going from a villain to an anti-hero. From the moment we find out about his terminal illness, we knew he was going to die either way. You can see him grappling with his mortality — about the inevitability of his death. And it seemed like he was planning to live out his last remaining years being an asshole surrounded by a shitload of money, until he ultimately dies from his illness.

But then, he sacrifices himself. Not only does he escape the “humiliating” decline that was to befall him when he escapes, he also gave meaning to his death. He, the heartless evil bastard, made himself the hero in the end. How rude!

So, when it comes to Martín, we have to think: What is his purpose in this story? What is the theme he’s trying to convey? Is it the tragedy of an unrequited love? Or is it learning to let it go?

Because looking back in episode two of Part 3, Sergio recruits Martín in a dirty flat in Palermo, littered with empty liquor bottles and Martín himself looking like a mess. When he broaches the topic of the heist, Martín can barely mention Andrés without his voice cracking. And when he and Sergio do discuss Andrés, he screams and gets angry and cries. He was obviously still mourning Andrés, who at this point, died FIVE YEARS AGO. That is not… a normal grieving period. May it be due to the lack of a support system after Andrés’s death (since I doubt Sergio visited), or the lack of real closure between him and Andrés, or something else, the point is… Martín Berrote was not okay. He was still clinging to Andrés in some way. Still unable to move on.

So when Sergio proposes to do the Bank of Spain heist and Martín accepts, his thematic arc began. He is introduced as Andrés’s long suffering best friend who was in love with him for years until he was eventually discarded. A lot of his moments in the show discuss and convey this dynamic. From him telling Sergio he loved the plan as much as he loved Andrés, to Nairobi confronting him about Berlin, to Martín himself telling Helsinki how Andrés leaving him made him the “asshole” he is today.

His theme is not just about his love for Andrés, but his grief and suffering because of it. Where the show will eventually take it is still debate-able, and we’ll have to wait for Volume 2 for that. But viewing Martín’s whole arc in this way, through the scenes they chose to put about him, and the way they connect it to the main plot — his development this season did not come out of the blue. It made logical and narrative sense. It all connects! This was the kind of story they wanted for him from the start.

[kimhargreeves]

Competition-The Professor x Reader (La Casa de Papel)

Summary:The Professor and Berlin put on a competition to win Readers affection.

I woke up early in the morning since Sergio said it was an emergency and needed me quick. So he'd be the one waiting for me outside of the house all of us are currently living in, I finished changing myself and quickly made it out of the room before bumping into Andrés. "What's the hurry, (Y/N)?" He asked raising an eyebrow and fixing his tie then continued.

"You know it's been a couple of boring days and we've all been doing nothing, so how about you head back to your room and have some fun?" Andrés steps closer to me which made me feel trapped since I was against the wall looking up at him.

I blushed and tried hiding my face from him, though I know he's known for being a flirt I still feel embarrassed around him.

"I-I was just...Sergio told me to get ready since he'd be-"

"Yes my little brother can be persistent, but he said he couldn't be able to come for you since he's busy so I came to check on you." He says with a smirk and offers his arm for me to take. I did and began walking down the stairs with him earning a few looks from Tokio.

It's been about two years since I met Andrés and Sergio which is the reason I know and call them by their names. Both brothers have been acting a bit clingy to me lately.

Andrés and I made it to the outside of the house so no one would bother us, "Don't you think it's quite stupid?"

I raise an eyebrow and glance at him. "Haven't you seen Tokio throwing herself at Rio? Sergio said no relationships." He says staring ahead at the field in front of us as the wind blows steadily.

"What would you do if you were in her place then? What if it were me and you? To be honest I wouldn't care and I would still love you no matter what."

Andrés looked away from me and i could tell he was flustered. He turned around to look and me and I was surprised when he lifted my chin up and leaned slowly down, "(Y/N) I-"

"Andrès." We both looked back and saw Sergio with his arms crossed starkng at us both. As if it were nothing Andrès quickly smirked and took a step away from me.

"Hermanito. Didn't expect to see you here." Sergio raises an eyebrow and pushed his glasses up.

"Neither did I. (Y/N), I was waiting for you." Sergio looked at me and stepped closer. "Andrès said you were busy so I followed him." I look at them both and see them almost glaring at one another.

"I was just joking around." Andrés laughs and pats his brother on the back a bit roughly and walks away.

"I was worried about you." He whispered and carefully rested his hand against my cheek. "I'd like to review some of the plans with you just to make sure everything goes accordingly."

We begin making our way to the classroom which I call it. "Of course you know I love helping you out in any way." Sergio just turned his back to me and began to fumble around with the plans and sat down up on a table.

"Now this is how it'll go-" and so he began to explain in great detail the plan but began to stutter and I saw his hands a bit shaky.

Am I making him nervous? Andrés has mentioned he acts like that around women since he's never been with one. I take all the courage I have and slowly make my way to him and sit on the table.

"Sergio, you have nothing to worry about. In fact I love hearing your lessons and the way your so smart, besides I do love men who wear suits" I whisper making him tense. I grab hold of his tie and right when I was going to pull him in he jumps off from his spot.

"Todays lesson is d-done." Again he has the habit of pushing his glasses up and without another word he storms out of the room leaving me confused, alone and upset. I curse at myself for being this straightforward.

I have been playing dumb on both brothers. I have a feeling yhey both have a crush on me, Andrès has for a while now since I met him first but Sergio has been the one I'm most attracted to. I don't want to hurt their feelings.

Sergio has been focused on his solely on his work.

Andrés has said he's interested in having kids, again, but he already has kids and he isn't the best father at all.

I don't know what to do.

*******

I had my red jumpsuit on and finished tying my combat boots and turned around to see Sergio staring at me almost sadly. It's been a rough couple of weeks since Sergio has been distant from me which has broken my heart while Andrés has been following me around like a dog.

Sergio and I stared at each other, both of us afraid to start a conversation. "(Y/N) I apologize for my behavior. The way I've been distant around you is because we have to act professional..I-I.."

"Sergio, its time." Berlin said wearing a police officer uniform and staring at us both. Sergio places his hands on both our shoulders and hugs us both.

"Make it back safe, both of you." Sergio whispered to us both. Andrès or should I say now Berlin nodded and quickly ran over to the rest of the team.

"Take care of him for me in there, al though not so much." I laugh at his joke and nod trying my best to not cry. Sergio places his hands on my head and placed a kiss on my forehead. Before I could tell him anything he turned around and ran away.

************

It's been about 8 hours since we entered the bank and everything has been going steady so far, Denver, Rio, Tokio and I were looking after the hostages while Berlin was off somewhere probably resting which is all he's been doing at a separate office, while Nairobi was off printing the euros.

I know I've gotta be focused on the plan and making sure the hostages are safe but under control. "They won't get away with this I'm telling you. " I rolled my eyes knowing well who that voice belonged to.

"Will you shut up?!" Denver said glaring at the man known as Arthur or how Berlin calls him Arturito. He's been pissing us off ever since we arrived and to be honest if I could I'd punch him.

All I can think of is Sergio, is he still watching us? What is he thinking about?

"I'm gonna take a small break, mind looking after them?" I ask Denver who shrugs his shoulders but nods anyways. I enter the room where all the phones are and rested my gun against the wooden table and just in time the bright red phone which connected us the to Professor rang.

Excitedly I answered it, "Professor."

I hear him sigh against and chuckle, "I'm glad you answered. How are things going?" I sit down and held onto the phone.

"Everything's been smooth. Haven't you been watching us?"

"Unfortunately I've been busy with other things. I'm happy to see you've been doing well." I chuckle and look over at the camera where he can see me. I wave my hand and blush even though he can't see my red cheeks.

"I wish I could see you." I whisper still staring at the camera knowing well he's watching over me like a guardian angel.

He doesnt say anything so I continue. "Sergio what were you going to say to me before you ran of?" I ask holding the phone tightly.

"Actually I was going to wish you well..I..I'll tell you when you get out." I sigh disappointed and smile.

"Sergio..I love you." I finally tell him since knowing him he won't be the first to say it. "I know you don't want to mess his up and be all professional, but I've always loved you. I know how upset you got when you thought I liked your brother but I always had eyes for you.."

There's silence. "I'll say this again if I have to. I love you Sergio and I'll always will."

"...I-I love you too (Y/N). Now I'm regretting not kissing you earlier." We both chuckle at that. "Sorry I couldn't do anything sooner, (Y/N) I want you to know that what I'm about to do is for us. I need to get some information out of the inspector and I need your permission to let me know if I can do it. Of course if you decline I'll respect your answer-"

I gulp thinking of what might happen but it's a risk we have to take. "Do it. You have my permission, Sergio. Just don't forget about me okay?"

"I promise I won't. I love you, (Y/N) Don't forget about that." I blush again and grip the phone .

"I love you too."

We ended the phone call and I couldn't help but smile to myself and touch my warm cheeks. What I didn't know was that Andrés was watching me the entire time.

[writingmyanxietyaway]

Doctor Love | Berlin

Requested by anon:  So okay okay, I had this idea a few days ago, and since your requests are open I'm gonna slide in real quick :)is it okay if I request a little scenario where like, u know when Berlino does that dumb thing of self sacrificing becuz he's gonna die anyway? What if his girlfriend/reader has been searching for a cure for his illness and before he can get himself killed she goes in the bank and tells him and somehow they manage to escape from the bank? No pressure if the idea doesn't appeal u! Ily!!

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: spoilers of season 2! maybe swearing, mentions of violence, guns, the whole shabang

Note: not my gif! Okay, so I’m in love with this request!! It took me a little longer to write, because I wanted to get it perfect. Let me just say I’m not a doctor, so I have no idea if there is a cure for the illness he has, but Imma try! Hope you like it darling! Thanks for the request and love you too! xx

------------

‘I’m sick. I have an illness called Helmer’s myopathy. It’s a muscle degenerative disease, which means that my muscles get weaker and weaker until my heart muscles can’t keep up anymore. If I’m lucky I have four months left,’ he told you like it was nothing; like it was answer to a question on a pubquiz. He held your hands in his, knowing it would break your heart and dreams of a future with him.

‘Andrés..’ you whispered, ‘why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ He sighed and gently shook his head.

‘It’s uncurable, princess. I have medicine that I have to take every few hours that make it somewhat acceptable, but I wanted you to know.’

You visibly broke down. Even though you were always someone who never wanted to show any emotion besides happiness and anger, but this was different shit. Your hands were shaking, body trembing as you tried to understand that everything you had imagined yourself doing with Andrés would be nothing more than a dream. It simply didn’t make sence. Being together with Andrés for more than six months, you’d hoped he would be more open towards you and share what was going on with him. You felt your throat closing up, eyes filling with tears.

This illness was just the cherry on top for him. The man had done terrible things in his life and could mark off just about any sin in the Bible. Stealing, robbing, charming women. Karma was getting her way back to him and all he could do was accept his fate. It came across as cold to you. All this time you planned this whole life for you two together, but he knew that would never come true.

‘No! This is cruel! You let me believe we would be together for the rest of our lives, hell, you told me you wanted to marry me when you got out! You knew even if you made it out alive, you wouldn’t live longer than summer. You’ve done some terrible things in your life Andrés, but this..’ you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. ‘This is just rude.’

The sadness you felt quickly turned into anger as you kept yelling at him, hitting him in the chest. He knew better than to interrupt you and tell you that everything would be okay, because he just now realized it wouldn’t be okay. He would die and leave you behind. Period.

‘I knew you were a self-centred bastard! You always play these mind games and somehow make everyone get on their knees for you! Is that all I am to you, huh?! Some game to find how far you can go? Because let me tell you Andrés, this game is finished. Game. Over,’ you hissed. You threw your hands up in the air and stormed out.

That was more than four weeks ago. In the meantime you had spoken again and this time the anger had disappeared and just cried. That was all you could do. You had accepted that you would most likely be a widdow before summer and that broke your heart, but you also wanted to fight. Andrés told you there was no cure to his illness, but there was hope burning inside you and you did everything in your power to still find that cure. Whether it meant getting no sleep for the next few weeks or not.

Andrés would soon be leaving for the big robbery and you had spent every second of the day being with him and holding him close. The times where you would have rough sex the entire day were over; it was now making love. He was gentle to you, making you breakfast in bed even though he could easily ask one of the maids to do it and even buying you nice dresses in colours that matched your eyes.

Without him knowing, you contacted one of your best friends who worked at the lab of a university and asked him if he could do more research on medicine for muscle-related illnesses. He said he had some information that he wanted to share with you, but that meant you had to visit him.

‘Babe, I’m gonna have to run to Macy really quickly. Think you’ll be okay?’ you asked. Macy was your sister and seven months pregnant, so it often happened that you visited her to help her with something. That way he wouldn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how he did it, but he always seemed to know what you were up to.

‘Of course, princess. Give her a kiss for me, okay?’ he winked, giving you a kiss on the lips. You lightly slapped his chest.

‘Be back for dinner,’ you told him. Out of the blue, he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you against him. He leaned down and you could feel his breath on your neck. Shivers send down your spine.

‘Your ass looks great in those jeans,’ he whispered, placing a light kiss on your neck and slapping you on the bottom. You giggled and pushed yourself away from him.

‘Bye!’ you called, waving him goodbye and walking out the door. You soon arrived at the university and was met by your friend who was waiting for you outside. You greeted each other with a hug and quickly got to work. He told you about the compositions of the different medications and what effect they had on what part of the muscle.

‘Isn’t there any way we could find a way to make this medicine last longer? This is the medication he uses now to keep it under control for a few hours,’ you gave him a syringe filled with the medicine and he studied it. He took the bottle from you and studied it contents.

‘There are some elements of this medicine that also appear in this,’ he pointed to a beaker filled with a milky white liquid. ‘I should be able to find a connection that makes this last longer.’

‘Is there anything I can do? I feel so hopeless not being able to do anything,’ you mumbled.

‘You did a great job already by giving me this. Is it okay if I keep the syringe? I need something that we know works, even if it isn’t permanent,’ he said. You nodded and waved your hand.

‘Of course. Anything to help find a cure. Thank you for doing this. I can’t even explain how much this means to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t at least tried,’ you told him. He turned to look at you and gave you a hug. 

‘That’s what I’m here for. If I find anything, I’ll let you know, okay?’

-

It was the fifth day of the heist. Andrés had been gone for almost three weeks now, being busy with training and all. He obviously knew about the plan already, but being the passionate man he is, wanted to go over every single detail again. He couldn’t afford making any mistakes. The goodbye was hard. You cried loudly as he held you close, whispering little reasuring words in your ear. You were thankful for Sergio. He kept you updated on everything that was going on, but didn’t tell you any details or steps of the plan. You didn’t want to either; it was scary enough without knowing how everything went down in there.

It was now wednesday and you were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t heard from Sergio in two days and it started to worry you. The news wasn’t exactly uplifting too. Andrés’ face was displayed all over every tv channel, name heard on every radio station and seen on every wall in Spain. Your heart fell even lower when the news announced he was sick. The smug inspector worked on you nerves as she spoke about him like he was an animal. Sure, the man had done things that broke the law, but he never killed anyone nor hurt any woman.

‘Fuck,’ you cursed under your breath. Suddenly your phone rang and the called ID showed Alex, your friend at the lab. Your heartbeat increased and you were anxious about what he was about to say. You picked up the phone and heard his loud voice. A tearful smile made it’s way on your face as you heard him say those three words you so desperately longed to hear.

‘I have it! I have the cure!’ he yelled. You jumped up and raced towards the university where he was already waiting on you. The hug you shared was one filled with hapiness.

‘Okay, he needs to inject this like he did with the other medicine. This is enough to last until november. I have some of it still in the lab so I produce more and work more on the duration of it. I can’t promise it will work for the rest of his life, but for now it’ll do,’ he spoke. You said goodbye and rushed to Sergio’s hide-out. The medicine you held in your hands would give him at least eight more months and until then Alex had a better cure. You burst through the doors and Sergio jumped up. You could see the whole that had been dug in the floor. You turned to Sergio and burst into tears of joy.

‘He’s not leaving us, Sergio. He’s staying. With you, with me. He’s staying,’ you rushed. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and the rush of adrenaline was so high, you thought you’d pass out. Your words seemed to land as he slowly moved towards you. His gaze fell on the little box you were holding and his eyes flickered from the black object to the hole in the floor and tears welled in his eyes.

‘I have to get it to him, Sergio. He needs to know there is something out here for him. You and I both you the man is up to something. Let me go in there, please!’ you pleaded. He quickly snapped out his trance and gave you a red suit and black boots to finish the look.

‘When you get to the indside, wait inside the vault. No one knows you’re getting in and that way you won’t get attacked. Take this with you,’ he pushed a fake gun in your hands and you placed it in the holster on your thigh. ‘Goodluck.’

When you were about to enter, you heard a lot of noise coming from the computer. The police had broken in. He nodded to you and you ran as quickly as you could through the tunnel. When you entered the vault, you were met by two people. A young man with dark hair and a woman with blonde curls. They looked suprised to see you and the man pointed a gun at you.

‘Serg- El Professor send me. I’m Berlin’s girl,’ you quickly said, stumbling over your words. Sure, you were carrying a gun with you, but it was a fake. Having a real gun pointed at you made you nearly shit your pants. When the girl pointed out I was carrying a gun and came through the only way out, he lowered the gun and craweled through the tunnel. It wasn’t hard to find Berlin as he came running in the direction of where you were coming from. You caught the stares of the other people who nodded at you and went on with their duties.

‘Berlin, babe!’ you called, making him freeze.

‘What are you doing here, princess? It’s not safe for you. They’ll come running through those halls any minute now,’ he sternly said, turning around and grabbing you firmly by the arm. ‘Leave, now!’

‘No, I’m not leaving. I came here to tell you I found a cure,’ you breathed and everyone around you froze. ‘You didn’t know, but I’ve been doing research for a medicine and I’ve found it. The first dose should work ‘till November. After that I’ll have a much stronger and longer working dose.’

‘Princess, I told you to leave,’ he said more firmly this time. You didn’t move.

‘Like I said, I’m not leaving. Not without you anyway. You promised me a life that I could only dream of and now we can have it. I love you with all my heart. I can’t loose you. Not now, not ever.’ Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged the man you loved so much to trust you and come with you.

‘Leave, now. Helsinki, take her with you,’ he ordered the bulky man behind you, but he didn’t move.

‘Love is a passionate thing, Berlin. I don’t know this woman, but she found a cure for your uncurable disease. That’s literally doing the impossible. You have five seconds to decide to leave with this woman or I’ll take you with me. Don’t look away when you have everything in front of you,’ he spoke. He turned his attention to you and you gave him a grateful smile. He smiled back and nodded.

‘Will you please come with me? If you don’t come with me, I’ll stay with you. I either die with you or leave with you, you decide,’ you stated. He looked at the box you held in your hand and realized how much he loved you. Moving towards you, he passionately smashed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t filled with lust, but relief and gratefulness.

‘As soon as we walk out those doors, I’m marrying you. No exceptions,’ he mumbled against your lips. You nodded and held him closer.

‘That was the plan.’

You heard the policemen run behind you and Helsinki was quick to throw a grenade. Berlin pushed you all inside and bowed your head in his chest. Once the grenade had exploded, you all rushed back and blew up the tunnel. You joined Sergio and Helsinki in the back of the truck, leaning against Andrés.

‘There are no words to explain how much I love you, princess. No words.’

The two of you left to Cuba, where you got married soon after you arrived. The wedding was on the beach, your white dress flowing around you while you stared at the man you could finally call your husband. Only a month after the wedding you surprised Andrés by telling you were pregnant.

‘You are my heart, my soul and my everything. Thank you for being my wife and everything I’ve ever wished for.’

.. .. .. .. .. 

Berlin Taglist

@nkjktk​ - @michaellangdonenthusiast​ - @hamiltonsofcrap​

[call-me-jerusalem]

You guys know how much I love this scene. In the past I have even hijacked @hemisphaeric​’s post and wrote meta about it. Now, I wrote a fic. It’s already posted at AO3, but I wanted to share it here as well, so I can attach this pretty screenshot that took me forever to capture, because it’s right before the scene changes, it’s literally the last frame we see.

This fic is what happens next.

Petrichor

Helsinki falls asleep in your arms and that’s why you cannot move.

No, wait. That’s not right. Not Helsinki, no.

Mirko.

You sigh to banish the air from your body. You are now a set of clean, empty parts, empty lungs, empty chest, empty heart. All that room just waiting to be filled up again. You have told him your sins, but you never asked for forgiveness. He acquitted you all the same.

You rest your back against the door so you can hold him as he sleeps. He gave you something when you thought you had nothing else to hold on to.

You know you will be here for a while, so you say his name. Only for yourself, yes, but you say it, quietly. It’s a prayer, almost. You want to know how it feels on your tongue, against the roof of your mouth. This sacred offer.

It’s the only part of him you haven’t tasted yet.

“Mir-ko.”

It’s not that different from Martín, you think. Two syllables, two lives, two lovers who never got to use the words, two broken mirrors. There are so many pieces to be put back together now.

“Mirko.”

He still does not stir, face buried against your chest. He must be so tired.

You wonder if he managed more than a couple of hours of sleep in the last couple of days. You should have known it, come to think of that. You were responsible for him. For them.

For her, as well.

You close your eyes and you can almost picture him sitting by her sickbed, waiting for her to wake up from your mistake. She could make mistakes, he said, but not you.

You wonder if he prayed, then. It didn’t matter if he did, and it certainly didn’t help. Gandía found her first.

Gandía found him second.

And you can’t bear to think about what would have happened if Tokyo and Bogotá had arrived only two seconds too late. You stare in horror and awe at the purple bruises around his neck, scattered where the rope kissed him deeply and slowly, took his breath away.

You thought he would be heavier, here, somehow.

Maybe it’s just the way half of his body lies on the floor, legs curled against yours, chest against your lap, his head on your arms. His beard tickles your naked skin, but you don’t dare move. He must be tired, because he heard your confession, then he cried himself to sleep.

It’s the debris scattered on the floor that bothers you. It stings against your legs, but still, you don’t move.

You try to distract yourself. You try to add up the bullet holes around the room, but you lose count twice before you finally give up. They’re everywhere. They’re on the doors, on the walls, the windows, the floor covered with empty shells.

Like a beach after the hightide, a paved street after a hailstone storm.

The air is heavy with wood dust and it dances before your eyes. You can’t see very well, but it feels familiar.

You remember being inside a cathedral with Andrés, on your first time in Europe. Maybe it was Notre Dame, or Cologne, or la Sagrada Familia, it does not matter now.

He was the artist, he knew the stories behind each fresco, and you only wanted to see where the cornerstones were laid. Now he’s gone, so he won’t care if you don’t get the place right for this metaphor.

It’s the stained-glass you think about, anyway. How it filtered the sun into beams of coloured light.

You try not to breathe in the dust, afraid it would fill your lungs and pierce you from within. You close your eyes again and try to remember the cathedral, the light, the mass, the singing. You can’t help thinking about the hymn you all sang not even an entire day before. It feels a lifetime ago.

Her lifetime.

It was her life and you traded it for ninety tons of gold.

It’s seems much better a bargain than twenty pieces of silver, and you think maybe you should go and find a rope with your name on.

But you cannot move, because you don’t want to wake him up. He’s had enough. He has lost enough.

“Mirko.”

You say it again, a little louder this time.

You wonder if she knew his name. You never heard her say it out loud, but after two years of traveling together, she must have known, surely? He must have told her. She was in love, after all. Can you be in love with someone you don’t know completely?

He could.

He said he knew you from the beginning and you can’t help wondering exactly where, when... how? How did he find out? What gave you away?

Was it something you said? Something you did? Something you let slip in one of those nights you let him have you?

After the chapel, you promised yourself you won’t let it happen again. If no-one knew you wanted them to stay, maybe it wouldn’t hurt that much when they walked away, too.

Maybe someone told him. Maybe he heard something during all those months before the Mint... but before you can entertain that idea for too long, though, you chuckle. Andrés would never have admitted he failed.

Not even Sergio knew, not the whole story, surely. He certainly didn’t know about the chapel. He lacked most social skills, our Professor, but he was never a cruel man. Would he have made you sit there for two months and stare at his brother’s face if he knew?

Oh.

Maybe that’s how he found out.

He must have noticed the way your eyes avoided that space on your left, how your voice faltered, sometimes, when you talked about the plan, the times you tried to make justice to his favourite bits and pieces, when you tried to not let it show, every time you tried to compensate, to fill up the space that used to be his.

How could you keep singing by yourself a song written for a duet?

It hurts, still, but when you close your eyes, it’s her face you see, shoved through a door, wood splinters like a crown of thorns. She was in pain.

Somehow, you knew she wouldn’t make it. You knew every word of that hymn. Your mother used to sing it in the choir, but Gandía stopped before the third stanza. It was an important one.

There, that’s how it goes:

You know what I have In my boat there is neither gold nor swords Only my nets and my work

He told you she volunteered first. How she agreed to melt gold to help the family she never had, but that was not her dream, nor her abducted lover, nor her mistake. You all send her away in a wooden box.

It was the same one the Browning was brought in.

And you cannot forget there were tears in his eyes, when you pressed the button to close the doors, when he put down his harmonica. There were tears in his eyes when he restrained himself and didn’t shoot Gandía. There were tears in his eyes an hour ago, when he offered you his name, his losses, his future.

And what did you give him back? If he already knew who you are, you didn’t offer nothing but a name to put on it.

“Martín?”

You can’t say exactly when your silent tears turned into ugly sobs, when your whole body began to shake. You never meant to wake him.

He disentangles himself from you and he stares at you, a hand on your face.

You try to focus on him, but your eyes deceive you and your tears blind you, and still, you can tell he looks like he knows exactly what he sees. He presses a kiss against your forehead, and you bury your face in his neck, taking it all in.

You think he smells like blood and gunpowder and the air does not feel so heavy anymore.

Maybe it rained and washed it all away.

Tú sabes bien lo que tengo, En mi barca no hay oro ni espadas, Tan sólo redes y mi trabajo. Pescador de Hombres

[grandmalavi]

Another Marquillo/Serquel fic... Little angst/smut/cheesy, I guess. Enjoy! :) “Of Paper Hearts and Other Things”

OF PAPER HEARTS AND OTHER THINGS

Raquel couldn't sleep.

She'd been in bed for the best of an hour now, tossing and turning without success, while the annoying clock by her nightstand mocked her brightly at every marked second passed she didn't catch a wink. Sighing, annoyed, she finally turned on her back and gave up, throwing the covers aside to stare at the fan spinning lazily on the ceiling above her head with a scoff.

She could hear the murmur of their conversation filling their house with noise, clearly still ongoing in the living room right now.

Sergio's group of robbers, la banda she'd first met by arrest pictures and crime records only, with the Dalí masks in lieu of real faces and personalities, was currently spread around their dining table, talking and laughing like any ordinary group of friends would. She'd left them to their cheap drinks and strange conversation topics earlier, refusing Sergio's offer to follow with a thin smile, because despite knowing deep down this day would inevitably come like he'd warn her many times over, right then Raquel felt so overwhelmed at the sight of these people she'd once aimed to put behind bars she felt like she could easily scream if she stayed in their presence any longer. She needed time to think, to be alone, to process everything before starting to see that situation as normal, somehow.

And, true to her request, quite likely guessing how she felt as well, Sergio hadn't come to bed until now. Raquel wasn't exactly annoyed at him because of this, but she was annoyed indeed, considering this small, petty side of her wanted nothing but to kick all these strangers out, lock Sergio with her inside this bedroom while she still could wrap herself around him, and claim him as hers, and hers alone, in face of the change they dropped to their doorstep without notice. This wasn't jealousy per say, she knew… Raquel wanted to support Sergio on his decision, of course, and that being said she'd stand by his side till the end like she'd promised, undoubtedly so. No way she'd allow him coax her into staying behind like he'd probably attempt sometime in the future, not when she'd finally manage to grab hold of him once again. Aside the overall strangeness she felt, she'd never compete for Sergio's loyalty with his friends either, even if meant feeling unwanted amongst them.

But somewhere deep down, embarrassing as it was, Raquel was scared. Sick of her stomach, she'd overthinked this subject so many times already it was no doubt she lost her sleep.

Ironically, what frightened her the most wasn't the prospect of what they were about to do. Deliberately going back within justice's reach to commit an even bigger crime with a bounty for their heads all over Spain, with the unforeseen risks she knew Sergio would lose nights of sleep without end trying to foresee somehow… No, Raquel actually felt prepared for that, as far as anyone could, for she'd always been a fighter at heart. She thought she could handle the pressure, too, having almost twenty years in law enforcement as baggage...

No, what scared Raquel the most was the way they looked at him. At Sergio. Tokyo, Nairóbi, Denver, Helsinki, Estocolmo, all of them… a group of wanted criminals sitting there, side by side, shockingly different people except for the way they all looked equally enthralled by Sergio whenever he'd open his mouth. How intensely they seemed to look up at him, all of them, like actual students during class. As if they were waiting for all the answers to their problems to be solved by a word of his, somehow— which they probably were.

Raquel saw how, just by sitting there in their living room across of them, Sergio could no longer be the man she loved, only, but El Profesor instead, under their eyes. Their leader, the one supposed to make sure everything would be fine, and everyone involved would walk away free and safe by the end of this. Responsible for rescuing Rio, for mastering the perfect plan twice with less than half the time he had two years ago, for making sure they'd succeed once again in the end… and more, no doubt, if it'd come down to it.

And just by watching Sergio's behavior, Raquel felt certain he'd already put all of their hopes upon himself as well, just as fiercely and without the need of them ever asking him to, probably as soon as he called them over to Palawan with a crazy rescue mission in mind. He was a man used to bearing responsibilities all by himself, and being one of the same kind, Raquel knew he'd never admit how much it'd cost him to do so out loud.

El Profesor was back to lead his people, and it terrified Raquel what he'd be willing to sacrifice to protect them as well.

And what for?, she asked herself. For this group of strangers, who couldn't do as much as to care for their own safety? For this reckless young man that risked everything, everyone, just to hold onto his stupid love story? For his girlfriend, a timed bomb ready to explode their plan to bits like several times in the previous heist?

Sergio was ready to sacrifice their peace, clearly, but for what?

Family, she remembered him saying back then. The night of the day she came to find him here in Palawan, laying together in this very same bed with their limbs entangled so tightly there was no telling where one's body started and the other's ended, Sergio told her everything there was to know about the heist that brought them to meet each other, everything he'd lie to protect back then. He told her why, and then about his father, the real version of the cider story where a sick little boy's life hung on a thin thread that wavered and threatened to snap every time his father would enter a new bank… he told her about the others, about the time they lived and planned together, and how he'd never intended to but started to think of each of these strangers as his family in no time, somehow.

This time, Sergio was doing it for his family. His, and… And hers, now, too, Raquel realized with a sigh. There was no point fighting it, she supposed. Not when everything Sergio loved had an habit of taking little bits of space within her heart so thoroughly, in no time. Not when she couldn't bear seeing him hurt, not when she knew his guilt set the deepest roots and charged the higher of prices...

Not when, she was sure, this was partially for his brother as well.

With a wave of deep sadness washing over her body at the thought, Raquel heard a knock on the door. Two familiar raps, hesitant, and then she turned on her side to see the doorknob turning as the door opened inside, just a creak to reveal Sergio's glasses and beard peeking in to check if she was still awake.

Seeing that she was, in fact, wide awake in her t-shirt and panties only, bare legs and messy hair in evidence, Sergio's face broke into a smile, before he stepped in and closed the door behind his back. This time Raquel heard the click of the lock before he came up to her, approving his thought with a languid smirk curving her lips.

As he came to seat over the mattress, she curled her legs to fit better around his body, sighing in contentment once he caressed his fingers through her hair, smiling down at her.

“Did you have fun?”

Sergio sighed, pushing his glasses to the top of his nose “Define fun. When I left, a bottle of moonshine Helsinki produced out of nowhere was passing around, while he and Nairobi entered a heated discussion over which one of them actually managed to sleep with a legend called, and I'm paraphrasing, 'Nine-Inches-Joe” in a night they were both particularly drunk…”

Raquel laughed, throwing her head back “No wonder you ran away.”

“I believe I might have left one or two burnt footprint marks on the floor behind my escape, yes.” Sergio smiles, putting a loose lock of hair behind her ear “I did need the time to think, though, and it wasn't that bad of a view on the porch tonight… the waves wild, almost alive underneath moonlight. You'd enjoy seeing it.”

Raquel pursed her lips, tapping his knee “But then you wouldn't be able to think much, no?”

Sergio's eyes crinkled as his smile widened, his hand sneaking up her bare tight “You do make for a pleasant distraction, indeed. One I'd be ashamed to ignore over revising the details of our plan, no doubt.”

Raquel sighed, propping herself in one elbow “I thought we agreed on no overthinking the detailing until we'd get out of the island. You told me there was no doing it without Andrés' old partner, Palermo, right? So losing what could've been, at least, an entertaining time on bed since sleeping is clearly off the table… was kind of stupid coming from a so called mastermind as you are.” she rested her cheek to his leg, eyebrows raised at him “ Don't you think, Profesor?”

“Ah, well…” he hid his grin behind adjusting his glasses again “When you put it like that, Inspectora…”

Smirking, she tugged at his hand, leaning back on the mattress with intentions of pulling him along “Then come. We still have time to make up for it.”

Sergio smiled, letting Raquel guide him to come hovering right above her, both his hands propped by the sides of her head as she reached a hand to remove his glasses gently, setting them carefully by the nightstand. Turning at him with a responding smirk, she gasped a little when his legs straddled her around the hips, making as so she'd be completely at his mercy, trapped underneath him, in a manner that kind of made her think she wouldn't bother much if at some point he'd move on to restraining her wrists— or at all, actually, for the matter.

“You sure you didn't share a little of that moonshine, Marquina?” Raquel cocked one eyebrow at him, already working on unbuttoning his shirt, from bottom to top “Because you're sure as hell smelling like you did.”

“Good to see your Detective skills aren't rusty, Inspectora Murillo.” Sergio shook his head at her, leaning in so that she'd have better access to the damn little buttons she'd been about to pop off all over the place “I might have tried a sip or two, out of curiosity,” he wrinkled his nose a little “and I believe it was enough of an disgusting experience for a lifetime, thank you very much.”

“Hmm?” Raquel hummed, pulling at the open sides of his shirt to reveal Sergio's bare chest victoriously, at which he helped with a short laugh, shrugging them off once she tugged at the fabric impatiently “So you come to my bed tipsy, full of filthy intentions to catch me out of guard on lack of sleep…” she murmured, finally tossing the piece of clothing to the side aimlessly to slide her hands over his bare torso and ribs, smirking once he sucked into a harsh breath at the contact “...don't come complaining to me if your students end up hearing the things we'll do loud and clear later, Professor. You do know how noisy you can get on a glass of wine…”

“My self restraint is always sharp around my students, but thank you for your concern.” Sergio rolled his eyes, leaning in so close the tip of his nose french kissed hers, his gaze resting shamelessly over her lips “As we have established on previous experiences before, though, your dirty mouth might be in need of censoring my poor class about. But no worries, Inspectora, for I am quite sober, enough to muffle your enthusiasm if things get too… descriptive, as they often tend to do.”

“Really?" Raquel breathed, grinning against his mouth as Sergio hands drove south, underneath her t-shirt and up her belly, making her skin rouse in goosebumps “Because I remember things being the exact opposite, in fact-”

Sergio swallowed her clever comeback all at once, his lips shocking almost aggressively against hers, making her moan between gulps of air. She nibbled at his bottom lip in revenge, her tongue battling his as her hands snuck up his back, her nails digging in satisfaction into his flash each time he'd grind his hips against hers in the most outrageous friction, once in face of her cotton panties he was still pretty much dressed above her. That being noticed, her hands immediately flew to his belt, struggling with its seemingly suddenly almost doubled complexity as she felt Sergio unclasping her bra with expertise. Obviously planning on stripping all of her remaining clothes at once by pooling her shirt right underneath her breasts, he groaned against her lips before shifting his mouth and teeth to that sensitive spot on her neck that never failed on making her eyes roll to the back of her head, one hand already very much cupping her breast impatiently through the fabric on the way.

Raquel smirked once she finally managed to launch his belt somewhere onto the floor, losing no time unzipping Sergio free of the pants that restrained his very evident erection, coaxing a gasp out of both as she caressed his length briefly, somewhere between the hasty pulling and rustling of clothing that followed their eager movements until his damn pants too flew to pool on the ground by the bed. Leaning fully back over her, he kissed the throbbing pulse at her throat as Raquel grabbed a handful of his hair, the other having his shoulder on a death grip as she felt his fingers ghosting down her sides to hook her panties roughly down, helping her wriggle free as she used him to lift her waist, separing their bodies for a brief but endless second before their hips met again, blessedly bare.

Sergio groaned and Raquel gasped, her eyes fluttering closed at torture of feeling him there, but not quite inside her yet. Impatient, she sighed in approval to his kissing venturing the vale between breasts, but hissed in frustration when her moving suggestively against him only resulted on him holding her back down with a firm hand on her hip, continuing exploring her skin with a jackass smirk she could practically sense there on his lips.

“Profesor, I really appreciate your teaching efforts,” she growled by his ear, both hands grabbing around his nape “but if you don't move to the damn main lesson soon enough, your class will riot.”

Sergio laughed against the hollow of her throat “You must've been quite the troublemaker on the class, Inspectora.” he raised his head to grin at her, his pupils huge as hand drifted from her hip to rest over her belly button, making her suck into a harsh gasp “But you see, if you'd ever had a decent enough teacher in the past,” he hummed, making his hand wander, down and down, agonizing slow towards south “you'd know very well a passionate teaching experience cannot be hushed.”

As he touched her exactly where she needed the most, Raquel arched her back off the bed, eyes closed and head rolling back as she let him prove he might not have the worst point going on, shutting up for good. Soon enough though, suddenly too soon, Sergio's fingers were out and grasping her legs to bring them around his waist, his chuckle breathless on her ear as she groaned a protest, his erection very much urgent pressed hard against her in explanation to why he practically ripped her blouse and bra through her head next, making Raquel laugh too once she fell back on the bed with a huff, smiling shamelessly at being finally naked in front of him.

“Class dismissed?” she asked mischievously, hands cupping both the sides of his face.

“Class dismissed.” Sergio breathed, bending down to kiss the smirk off her face, swallowing her moan as he slid inside her in a single thrust.

“Hey, listen. I think all the booze finally knocked them out.” Raquel murmured against Sergio's chest some time later, curled against his side, her eyelids already half closed as his hand drew lazy shapes between her shoulder blades, lulling her closer and closer to dozing off in the happy bubble of his arms. Besides the sound of their even breathing, they could hear how the entire house now fell into a relative silence but for the waves crashing outside, once la banda finally seemed to have shut its nightly activities and scattered off to their respective rooms for the day.

She felt him smile against her hair “Well, let's hope whatever they decide to do in our guest bedrooms isn't any worse than what they were doing in the living room.”

Raquel lifted her head to raise an eyebrow at him “Like the things we were doing just a second ago, Profesor?”

Sergio grimaces, pushing the glasses he'd just put back in up his nose “Believe me, I've caught them in different states of embarrassing situations while we lived together before, Inspectora, and none of it would be something I'd picture us doing in our free time without being traumatized for life.”

“Really?” Raquel grinned, curious.

“Tokyo and Nairóbi are worse than teenagers.” Sergio sighed, looking so much like the every bit of a father figure she'd imagine him being to the group of thieves Raquel chuckled against his neck. He glared at her obvious amusement at his expenses “What? Trust me, if you're not buying it now, just wait until we're all obliged into living a bedroom apart of them in the same space again. Then you'll see for yourself.”

“Oh no, I'll leave all the surveilling and scolding for you, Profesor. Gladly. You've got more experience,” she kissed him, pulling back with a hand automatically scratching his beard “and besides, I'm terrific at playing the Good Cop part.”

“Throwing me at the wolves by consequence, then?” Sergio clicked his tongue at her, grinning, pushing her hair behind her ear with a soft look in his eyes “You're a mean partner, Inspectora…” he cut himself, hand freezing, frowning a little “Something's stuck on your hair.”

“What?” Raquel turned, trying to take a peek as his fingers dug around the back of her head, searching her hair until he grabbed it, whatever it was, held it up and laughed soundly at sight of it “What is it?”

“If this were to be a magic trick, it couldn't be more perfectly timed.” Sergio grinned, handing her the slightly crumpled red origami swan retrieved with a flourish and a head shake “It must've fell off my pants once you launched them all the way across the room…”

“I was only retribuying the favor you paid my underwear, Marquina.” Raquel rolled her eyes at him, recording the consider amount of searching it took for her to conclude her panties must've disappeared into whatever alternative dimension he'd manage to throw them into. Turning the origami over in her hands, she smiled a little, attempting to smooth its wrinkled edges with her thumbs “So this is what you rather do, outside in the cold, instead of being warm here inside with me?” she cocked an eyebrow at him “If you want to brood, you might as well let me use you as a pillow while you do it, Profesor.”

Sergio's eyebrows rouse “Oh, but how can you know I was brooding, Inspectora? I could've being simply enjoying the view…”

“It's the world's worst hidden secret you origami while you trying to focus, Sergio.” Raquel balanced the paper bird right above his chest, watching it rise and fall along his breathing, batting her eyelashes smugly at him “It's an endearing nervous tic, really. Incredibly telltaling, though.”

“You've got me all figured out then, huh?” Sergio opened a quick smile, grabbing hold of the origami, then glanced sideways at her, sudden nervous, she could tell, when he used that same hand to push his glasses back up his nose, sighing “Did I ever tell you where this habit came from?”

Raquel shook her head, propping her chin onto his chest to watch him better, smiling encouragingly “No. But I'm all ears.”

Sergio inhaled, hooking his arm around her back to squeeze her shoulder in way that made her scoot closer, draping a leg over his with a light frown creasing her brow as she waited for him to speak.

“My father taught me how to make these.” he whispered, fidgeting with the red swan distractedly, a distant look in his eyes as he searched for his next words, clearly already lost in thought. Bearing a tight smile on his lips, he continued “He actually learned how to do origamis just so that he could teach me, in fact. It was back when I was still in the hospital, spending my time mostly getting overly anxious about which tests they'd run on me the next day, when he heard a nurse mention paper crafting helped some of the kids around the pediatric aisle to pass the time… The hospital staff would promote classes in the common playing room, for the children that wouldn't depend on machines 24/7 to participate.” he glanced over at Raquel, his eyes a little sad “And when his trying to coax me into joining them didn't make me overcome my embarrassment over my condition's new developments on…” Sergio's hands shook the slightest as he adjusted his glasses “...mobility issues, well, he went there and learn it himself, so that he could teach me a better coping mechanism than obsessively reading the same books, over and over again.”

Raquel smiled softly and kissed his chest, ignoring how this rare mention of his illness tugged at her heart strings, knowing very well she'd have to wait until he'd be ready to give more details himself “He was a good father. He knew how to work you out of your shell.”

“Ah, well, I was always a bit of a tough kid to work around,” he smiled a little too self-deprecating for her taste, shrugging “quirky to top my crippling social awkwardness, even before my disease started to develop initial symptoms… So my Father had the experience, I suppose. He knew the origaming would work like a charm on me, mostly because whenever I'd be faced with learning a new skill, I'd obsess so thoroughly over it I wouldn't have the time to worry while occupying myself with doing the task, whatever it was, to absolute perfection.” Sergio sighed, a nostalgic look on his face “He'd sit by my bedside and we'd fold pieces of paper into different animals, over and over again, even between blood tests and the needless I'd have nightmares about… His origamis were always a little bit crooked, and he'd joke about how unfair it was he'd have his son beat him in paper crafting, even, when chess was already a game he'd be no match against me.

“It was ironic, really, how much I'd enjoy beating him, proving myself better, smarter than him, Raquel.” Sergio's smile disappeared, and without seeming to realize what he was doing, he slowly started to unfold the origami bird back into a square of paper as Raquel observed him, resisting a sudden need to stop his hands with her own “My father was usually, if not always, the smartest person in every room, and all I ever wanted was to be exactly like that. He knew that much, of course, and so he was sure I'd master everything he'd teach me, that I'd feel proud of my accomplishments… which weren't many, being that I had to quit school for good once my constant headaches were proved to be much more serious we'd initially thought, given that in order to stop my constant seizuring I'd need to be on a heavy drug treatment 24/7, queasy and trapped to a damn hospital bed all day long.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Raquel covered his hand with her own, squeezing his knuckles “You never told me it was like that, so…” terrifying, she mentally completed, swallowing dry rather than speaking it out loud, tearing up a little at the thought of how scared Sergio must've felt, being deprived of so much in such an early age. Of how desperate his father should've been, once being a mother had taught her that any parent would always suffer along their child, no matter what “You were lucky to have your father, that he'd know how exactly to take your mind out of being sick." she murmured, finally, blinking her tears away to muster a weak smile at Sergio's serious expression “He sounds like a good man. Wonderful parent, no doubt. I think… I think I'd like to have met him.”

Sergio opened a tiny smile in response, nodding when her hand drifted to rest right above his heart “Yes, you would've. He would've, too, you know.” he eyed her, a little shy ”He'd have a whole lot to say about me finally finding a woman to match my stubborn witts, no doubt.”

Raquel laughed, shaking her head “He sounds like he and my mother would've have the best time going about each of our flaws, and how much patience each of us would no doubt need to handle the other's complicated ways…”

Sergio rolled his eyes, fingers suddenly back to fidget with the piece of paper until he started a few hesitant new folds “Oh, yes, definitely. He'd find in your mother's no-nonsensical approach a close match to his own, believe me.” his grin made another appearance, then, this time more genuine than sad “He would never let me have an easy time back then, you know, being a sick kid and all. He'd do his best to treat me like a normal boy, to give me some sort of a routine that went beyond nurses and doctors and being put into different machines for CT's that lead to nowhere at every week or so. He'd never let me suspect the lengths he'd went through just to afford the newest experimental drug treatments… And when both my mobility and cognitive abilities only worsened with time, he'd still make sure I'd have pieces of paper always at reach, once despite having a hard time writing and walking got me increasingly frustrated by day, I'd still manage to do origamis if I was careful and patient enough. As long as I could do this, he told me," he showed Raquel the partial folding between his fingers, his voice cracking slightly “I'd know my body would still be under my control.”

“So you'd know there'd still be hope, that he'd make sure everything would be alright.” Raquel whispered, cradling his face between her hands, feeling how tense his jaw tightened under her palms as she guided his gaze sorely into hers, so that he'd see the gratitude deep inside her eyes towards this father that sacrificed his life so that the love of her life could live and love alongside her, today “He never gave up saving you, and he was right, of course. He made sure you were cured, and he made sure you actually lived and knew how much you were loved while he fought to keep you alive.” her lips trembled as she smiled, her eyes just as watery as his, glimmering softly behind the lens of his glasses as he heard her, his chest rising and falling hastily with each breath “That's it, you know. That's the kind of parent I aim to be to Paula as long as I'm around. That's the parent everyone deserves.”

“Yes.” Sergio whispered, nodding softly, blinking tears that got stuck to his lashes rather than being shed. He covered one of her hands with his, looking sad and fond and dead serious, all of sudden “That's exactly the kind of parent you are, Raquel. When I saw you and your daughter together for the first time, it was like a flashback. It was how I fit one more piece into the puzzle you were to me,” he touched his forehead to hers, brushing his lips to hers “a discovery that made me realize your love for her would inevitably be part of why I was so incredibly fascinated by you. One more risk, to getting lost on everything about you.” he smirked, slowly and impossibly sweeter, pushing away to better look at her now smiling, flushed face “To breaking my very first rule...”

“To falling in love.” Raquel whispered, even though they never really needed to put things in terms such as this, even though they both surely felt the same without the need of saying it out loud— because suddenly, despite knowing, she felt like hearing the words coming out of his mouth, aside doing even greater things to her pounding heart, also wouldn't hurt at all.

“Ah, well… That, too.” Sergio cleared his throat and blushed, adorably shy as he always got around feelings. His awkward smile, kissable in so many ways, flashed quickly before his hand went on a reflex to push his glasses back on place, as he inhaled, deeply, before nodding, a resolute light shining to his eyes “Definitely. I, well… I never really had a fighting chance.” he shrugged “ I fell, quite spectacularly. Head over heels.”

Raquel smiled wide, pleased, pushing herself up to plant an open-mouthed kiss on his lips so eagerly Sergio chuckled into her mouth “We both fell, Profesor.” she nuzzled his beard, feeling happy and silly all over “We're both such great losers, for a teacher and a cop.”

Sergio laughed again, shook his head. Then, most definitely blushing all over, he shrugged “Well, Inspectora, I wouldn't say you didn't win anything…” he gaped a little, before offering her the origami she never noticed him finishing, somehow folded into a brand new thing now. It was a red heart, folded perfectly there in her palm, so impossibly sweet Raquel had to pinch her lips not to laugh at Sergio's pained grimace, as he struggled to let each cheesy word out, red like a tomato “You won my heart, after all.”

No longer capable of holding her joy any longer, Raquel chuckled at his silliness, shaking her head and cradling his chin to his kiss his adorable vexed pout at being made fun off. Holding the origami heart safely close to her thumping own, she grinned like a teenager against his lips “You won my heart too, despite being too smooth for your own good. Thank God you're so shy, or else you'd be married by now.”

Still flushed, Sergio's eyes were serious underneath all his overall awkwardness as he shrugged, exhaling “Well, I'm… I'm up for it whenever you are, Inspectora.”

Raquel stopped, blinked. A little stunned, she tilted her head, knowing this man would never say or do anything unless he'd meant it with all his heart “I…” she found expectancy there in his face, her heart tightening a little as she searched her next words carefully “Ask me again some other day,” she breathed, unsure “and we might have a deal, Profesor.”

Sergio took in her words, silent for a heartbeat, before relaxing visibly, nodding his understandment. She knew he immediately got what she meant, as usual, that this was far from being a no, rather simply a not today, not right now...

Not when we're about to walk into a damn battlefield.

”Alright.” he smiled, covering the hand that held his origami heart right above hers with his own “And when I ask, I'll make sure to bring a ring into negotiation this time.”

Raquel answered him with a kiss, for there was no further saying needed between them, once more.

Their deal was inevitable, as it was her answer, already bound to be no other than yes.

[andresdefonollosa-archived]

Studying her face, it was easy to tell that she thought she had it all figured out. She thought she was one of them. She thought she could save Mónica. No, the blonde was beyond saving. What a shame it would be, to turn that beautiful blonde hair red with her blood. It was almost the end of the heist; things had been going so well and Andrés had been dying to spill Arturo’s blood. No, the best thing to do was to spill Mónica’s; that would destroy Arturo, just as he had destroyed the heist. And it would terrify Ariadna; an added bonus.

Sergio would be pissed, but they were all going to die anyway and even if Denver made it out alive, having a peaceful life with Mónica would never work. The only thing holding him back was the child in her belly. What a shame that she had to be pregnant! Andrés loved to play games, so he pulled out his gun, holding it out to Ariadna.

“I will never lose you.” No, you’ll be the one to lose me, he thought with a sad smile. She was in love with him, madly in love, and what a shame that she had to lose him. Andrés knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. Oh, the tragedy that love always turned out to be. “Have you ever shot a gun?” He looked towards Helsinki and Mónica, pointing right at the Serbian. “Shoot him. See if you can avoid the woman’s pretty blonde curls.” A chuckle escaped him, and he took Ariadna’s fingers, wrapping them around the gun handle. She wouldn’t dare to shoot him; Helsinki would kill Mónica in an instant. It was a trap.

@ledeuill asked: " don't do that. " / from ariadna .

Don’t do what, Ariadna? What is it that you’re trying so hard to stop me from doing? Sipping from his glass, he glanced over at her, then at Helsinki, who held Mónica in his arms, gun pressed firmly to her temple. Berlin wasn’t sure if she actually cared about the other woman or if she was just afraid of seeing the aftermath, the blood spilling across the floor. No, he wasn’t going to give the order to execute her; he’d tried that once already. But she had betrayed them. Then again, was it really a betrayal if she was never truly on their side?

Yes. She had betrayed Denver. Arturo had gotten ahold of a real gun; Denver’s real gun. They couldn’t handle another mishap like that; it wouldn’t be as easy to come back from. “Ariadna.” His voice was firm, firmer than he’d intended, even, as he glanced over at her. “This woman would have caused chaos, and not the good kind of chaos. Whether you agree with my form of punishment is irrelevant.” He spoke to her as if she was a child, a child too young to understand the ways of the world. “Please, my love, sit down and be quiet.”

[blorbosexterminator]

I have been rereading some of your posts and I stumbled upon the unpopular LCDP opinions again, and here I present the thing that has been haunting my mind for a while:

I have been reading many Berlermo fics where Martín is portrayed as almost, if not completely, innocent: it’s all because Andrés left him. Martín is just a sad, small, soft cutie who needs someone to love him, and y’know, do... him, because that is also ALWAYS the case in these kind of fics.

And??? That is not the Martín I saw. Maybe it is (partly) how Martín sees himself after Andrés left, as a poor, innocent victim (because I feel like he does). He is no way a victim, nor is Sergio (completely) responsible for his problems (which is often a topic too). Andrés and Martín are idiots and they should both have gotten their heads out of their arses. They both are responsible. Martín could have said he loved Andrés years ago, no one stopped him... And I get that telling your best friend you love them is A Big Thing, but still... 10 years...

I saw no innocent victim in the show, I saw a cruel, harsh, mentally disturbed man and a terrible person. He is just as terrible, if not worse, as Andrés. I still love him, just like Andrés (and them together is even better), but I would and could never defend his actions or the stuff he says.

Adding on this, I don’t think Martín had ever been the “lover” before, I feel like he always would be the “beloved”. He had others worship him, and when he fell in love with Andrés that changed. He is mostly portrayed as always being the lover, when the topic is discussed in fics.

I even believe this more since I rewatched the scene where he tries to leave the bank: he calls Helsinki a “princess” which is first of all NOT OKAY, which was my first thought upon watching the scene. When I rewatched, I found it an interesting look into Palermo’s perspective: Martín actually sees himself as ‘the man’ (and believe me, I hate that I had to write that, I do NOT support the vision) in the relationship, and he sees Helsinki as a ‘princess’. This further confirmed for me that Martín is not some sweet smol man in need of a hug, but also really not the bottom everyone writes him as. What I saw in the show, was someone who revels in power (and not just the aesthetic, like I feel Berlin does) and being in control. And even if he would have a relationship with Andrés, I feel like Andrés would easier let go of being in control than Martín does, I feel like Andrés much less needs the control the way Martin does.

And I mean, everyone can have their own opinions and write characters the way they want, 100%, I am just surprised that I seem to be one of the few thinking like this of Martín? And I probably am one of the very few to prefer seeing Berlín letting Martín be in control in bed (although I believe they switch).

Anyways that was my ramble, I hope I was somewhat understandable and that this possesses just the slightest bit of eloquence :)

Have a nice day!!!

Hello! I know this is quite late, but I've always wanted to return to this ask, because really everything you say here is a gem and I agree with 100%.

First, yeah, that is very similar to my experience in reading fics as well. Actually, interestingly enough, I read quite a lot of fics early on without having watched the show, only having watched the kiss scene and few other detached flashbacks. It was only when I watched it that I realized how different the way Martín presented himself to me in the show from the dominant view of him.

It really depends. I do agree that Martín victimized himself to a large extent in his relationship with Andrés, but I don't think he saw himself as that much of an innocent; someone who would have never even joined the life of crime if it weren't for Andrés or so.

But yes, Martín is definitely not a victim and I don't think Sergio is responsible for his problems at all to be honest. Andrés did what he thought was the best course of action and that is that. Sergio isn't responsible for a grown man leaving another grown man. Like other than the factor regarding whether he should have told Andrés or not, he chose him, he chose to remain with him one marriage after the other. I do understand, to an extent, why both Martín and Andrés did what they did, but at the end of the day, would it have gone better if Martín had told him years ago? Who knows. Martín probably thought no and remained with him anyway, he's in no way a victim in this, like forgive me, but Andrés doesn't owe Martín anything. Even if we take Martín's words and say he reveled in being adored and worshipped, then it was still Martín who allowed it, it was still Martín who gave him this and asked for nothing in return and never left.

But going back to your words, yes, that is exactly what I saw when I watched the show too. Martín is cruel, ruthless, selfish and guess what? He was still all of those things before Andrés left him and died. It's just he wasn't those things with Andrés, the same way Andrés wasn't his worst parts of himself with him and Sergio. It doesn't mean they "changed" really, it just means they put each other above everything else and in a whole different category than all other people.

Oh yeah, this is one of the things that I headcanon to. Obviously, we don't have any history of Martín other than the parts with Andrés, but if we take his treatment of Helsinki then yeah, I'm willing to bet the same. I think him being the lover with Andrés was definitely the exception not the rule. Def agree with all you said about his relationship with Helsinki, Martín obviously doesn't see himself this way, and like aside from the princess scene, every time we saw them interact (when he flirted with him in front of everyone, when he kicked him out if his bedroom, etc) it seems very well that Martín is the one who is in control there, and is the one dictating exactly what the relationship is and isn't with sharp, even cruel, confidence.

Now the part about control, I agree with you 1000%, like the funny thing is it's not just the way Martín presents himself, it's the way the team sees him. Not only that, it's the main reason Sergio fears and is very wary of working with Martín, and I think that does come from experience, especially if we assume Sergio knew Martín for those ten years as well. I perfectly believe Sergio knows Martín well enough for those words to come from some actual place and not just his headcanons about Martín or something. Like it's very interesting to me as well, that Andrés couldn't even refute. Hell, not even Martín was able to say 'ah, I'm not really like that.' Even more interesting, actually, is the person Andrés likened Martín to after saying 'yes, yes he is obsessed with power and control' is Sergio! Sure, in that moment he was comparing their genius, but I do find it intriguing that he does put them on the same scale considering how a complete fucking freak Sergio is when it comes to being in control of everything. Andrés is outside this category. He enjoys the aesthetics of power, but he's much, much more at ease with letting go of control than either Martín or Sergio are. Martín doesn't just want the look of power, he wants complete power, period! And I do think he revels in it big deal. Lmfao, the show built the entire premise of a whole ass season on that one trait. It's not exactly something you'd need to argue for.

And oh yeah, I agree to an extent. I think when it comes to their specific relationship, things aren't really easily put in categories of who would most likely want more control, cause you know, they are very abnormal people ESPECIALLY with each other. At the end, I sincerely believe both of them regard the other as 100% an equal and wouldn't even want in any way to "control" the other or have more of that control in the relationship, but yeah, I definitely don't agree of the view of Andrés needing this control 24/7 and Martín being his subordinate just letting Andrés control him or whatever lmfao.

Of course, people can have their own interpretations and write what they want! But yeah, I did share that same suprise with you after I watched the show for the first time, mostly because I didn't know where exactly it sprung from? I do have some ideas for that now, but irrelevant really. Oh yeah, bottom!Andrés (or sub!Andrés) isn't very common, if I can tell from the amount of fics that has top!Andrés vs the amount with top!Martín or vers!berlermo. Generally, I do think they switch and all.

You were very understandable and eloquent, have no worries! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, I loved reading them!

Have a great day too!

[roccinan]

1/? simply because you have the most galaxy brain thoughts ever,,, what do you think would've happened if they waited until s5 to reveal sergio and andrés were (half)brothers?

i do know that when my fam started watching lcdp at first i was so put off. like i watched ep 1 and the prof creeped me out. ""berlin"" creeped me out. e v e r y o n e creeped me out. and i was cringing so hard becz of the short lived romance angle with alison parker. i literally did not watch s1 at all xcept for like sneak peeks. highlights being the scene where berlin discovers monica is alive and does his dramatic door by door thing? that was so SUSPENSEFUL even tho i had no idea what was going on. DOMINGO DE RESURECCION remains forever iconic.

2/? And OF COURSE the group bella ciao dance when they hit earth (hahah i thought the banda were actually like a "found family where they all love each other LOL") i am a SUCKER for found family. but anyhoo when i properly got intrigued was s2 when tokyo was kicked out (the music from that scene is still my favourite) it's just so dramatic..!! why am i telling u all this again? right, i haven't slept a wink and it's nearly 7 am pls forgive me if these rambles make no sense. i have a point with this.. i'm going somewhere

RIGHT. so when the fam actually rewound the ep cz i wanted to know WHY berlin did that (didn't fully realise how batsht crazy he can be), the russian roulette scene played. and pedro's acting. MAN. and like just that ep they made a point of showing us these flashbacks where sergio and andrés hug....

Hi anon! Thanks for stopping by- sorry took me a while to get back to you, will do my best to answer this string of messages (got all 4 parts)! Glad you like my thoughts XD

Firstly, I believe Andres/Sergio would be the biggest LCDP ship if the writers were evil enough to wait until s5 to reveal that they’re brothers asdfasdf. They’re already the two most popular male characters anyway. 

It’d be especially crazy because it’s not like they tell the actors these things beforehand either. So that means there’d probably be a Serdres vs Berlermo vs Serquel fight every 5 minutes. I mean, even if not everyone agrees on everything in the lcdp fandom, it’s the most “peaceful” one I’ve ever been in because no character really gets in the way of any other ship (like even with helermo and berlermo there’s no true conflict since Andres is dead). But with Serdres in the mix?? CATASTROPHE. Everyone out here writing essays about how much of a bastard/bitch/homewrecker/motherfucker that Andres or Sergio or Martin or Raquel is. Never a moment’s peace!! so basically, a regular fandom lmao.

Then when we find out they’re brothers, it goes from catastrophe to Apocalypse. Suddenly serquel and berlermo have the upper hand. Everyone would double down and harass the crew/cast into whatever’s going on.  Plot-wise, everything is the same though, just without Andres calling Sergio “hermanito.” Fandom however, would be a minefield! And I’m glad that’s not the case because I’d probably be an unfortunate serdres shippers XD No joke, my mother and I thought they were a couple in S1. So bullet dodged!

Secondly: haha, everyone creeped me out in S1 too, especially Berlin, I hated him, but thinking back, I think I mostly hated the fact that I didn’t hate him as much as I should have. I’ve made peace with it now but oh boy, was he a controversial figure in my head. I actually like the professor on sight though! IDK why, maybe because I thought his plans were cool or because of Alvaro’s delivery. I was afraid of an Alison Parker romance thing too- like, I do feel like she had a storyline that got dropped, but that part was quite cringey and overall unnecessary to the plot. Same with Ariadna, which was even cringier and even Less necessary to the plot. 

Domingo de resurrecion was iconic though yes! And even with all that said, I genuinely enjoyed parts 1 and 2 because it was so different from anything else I’d seen. Not content wise, but maybe tonally? IDK, they were just really bold with a lot of things, like being objectively unafraid of having the protagonists (plural because all of them did LMAO) do objectively shitty things. Really kept me in suspense from beginning to end! 

I’m usually a big fan of found families too! The funny thing is, then banda never struck me as a “family” until season 3. In 1 and 2, I was wondering what felt different about this show; then it hit me that these people remained colleagues to the end. Like, they backstabbed each other (repeatedly) and everyone was quite selfish, and only the bonds that were already there stuck. They were the opposite of a found family LOL But I think by S3, they went down the found family route and I didn’t mind because it makes quite a lot of sense for them to feel that bond after the Mint heist and almost dying/living together (and having witnessed 3 deaths together on the team). But I still doubt Berlin and Palermo were ever really part of this found family, with good reason XD

LOL the scene where Tokyo got kicked out is also among my favorites!! It was so funny and dramatic, and it was like, wow we can go anywhere with this now! Don’t worry- your rambles and thoughts are always welcome :D

I’m rolling over how you watched the Tokyo expulsion scene before the Russian Roulette scene haha. Also yes, PEDRO. Berlin may have been “controversial” to me at first, but I became Pedro’s fan from day one! Also the Hug is probably what made me like Berlin (despite my determination to hate him rip) in the first place. 

3/? ... and like now that i think about it... tokyo had real guts huh. like she KNEW berlin was close enough to el prof to know his name (fhshshs imagine if she'd heard andrés saying 'hermanito' it's unrealistic that she didn't TBH. i mean obviously they decided to make them brothers only towards the end but like in canon universe. how tf did andrés de 'i raised my bby brother since he was 12 and i'd actually die for him and his stupidly brilliant plans' fonollosa go 5 months without slipping up once and calling sergio hermanito. or like,,, i like to imagine sergio kinda gave him lots of leeway(?) sergio's a lil oblivious too but like i'm sure half of it is.. that's my dumbass older bro shut up i'm not being partial you all have city names .. andr-berlin, pass the salt. like OOF. + sergio also knew his big bro was dYiNG so like. i'm sure they were sneaking in some quality time (i hope they did 😭 gosh imagine if sergio really did not ever consider the possibility of andrés dying in the heist so he'd tell himself he needs to perfect the plan now & anyway he'll have enough time to spend w/ his brother post heist in philippines. and then ... that happened :/

Tokyo has guts in place of braincells you bet that she’d do something like this, consequences be damned XD I also think it’s unrealistic for Andres not to slip up, but I have a feeling nobody besides Tokyo really tried to spy on them in private. I headcanon that Andres instead slips up and does things like ruffle Sergio’s hair or adjust his tie when other people are around. I also think Tokyo was convinced that they were a gay couple when she saw them hug XD And if Sergio never went on to tell the banda that Berlin was his brother, everyone would be giving Palermo such awkward looks after Nairobi accused him of being in love with Berlin LMAO. 

I agree! I also imagine Sergio giving Andres leeway because he’s just so used to interacting with his brother that way haha. So either he’d go out of his way to ignore Berlin in front of everyone else or IDK, borderline telepathically communicate with him. Not even “pass the salt” has to leave his mouth- Berlin just puts salt into his food and cuts it up for him, in front of everyone who’s just staring like O.O

I actually do think Sergio never considered the possibility of Andres dying in the heist because he was just that confident in his own plan. Plus, Andres was probably the one person he expected to survive. And a lot of it has to do with Sergio’s attachment to him + Andres’ own habit of downplaying any illness/injury over the years, which I think is safe to believe canon. He was really in no condition to be in the heist, let alone lead it. Just the fact that he needs to take those injections is a big sign that he shouldn’t be there, but Sergio didn’t catch it because he’s human and blinded by faith :’) So yeah, I think Sergio was planning to spend proper time with Andres in Palawan and at Toledo, they just settled for those little moments by the fireplace. 

4/? what always also just GETS me in the feels is that el prof was shown to be this in control creepily calm dude who is miles ahead of everyone. + in the 1st Toledo class itself we see how detached,, like how impersonal he is, how professional - choosing frickin CITY NAMES?! no 'personal relationships' ? (after recruiting his older brother, a father son pair, and war cousins... oh sergio 😂 he's such a frickin nerd and i love him) but like the earlier seasons really emphasised how robotic and down right COLD he can be. it still sometimes bothers me that he put the button in the car. he lead the police to his own damn brother, his blood, who took care of him and adopted him and was terminally ill and like - UGH i try to rationalise that sergio is that cold and unbothered. or that he has strict morals. but it still bothers me becz that button really sort of tipped andres' already unstable sanity. like andrés tells denver someth like you've robbed my future and after that he just seems so much more suicidal and accepting that he can't get out of the mint alive - WHY SERGIO WHY. I KNOW THAT AT THAT POINT YOU BASICALLY DIDN'T KNOW ANDRÉS WAS GOING TO BE YOUR BROTHER YET BECZ IT WASN'T WRITTEN IN THE SCRIPT BUT WHYYYYY

That’s so funny to me too LMAO No personal relationships, then he recruits these guys. Sergio, hello?? Also can’t forget how he just recruited his own girfrleind in the second heist too. Buddy! Love this nerd.

I don’t think that cold aspect of Sergio went away in later seasons either; he just had more opportunity to show a more open side of himself + without Andres, he had to metaphorically leave his comfort zone without a safety net. But in earlier seasons, he really did seem heartless at times XD Then again, we can argue that the same goes for Andres.

To be fair, I didn’t feel sorry for Andres over the button thing lol, but once the brothers reveal happened and all of Alvaro/Pedro’s headcanons came out and we know everything Andres did for Sergio, it makes what Sergio did REALLY harsh. We really just have to explain it through Sergio’s strict morals and him believing this to be the best non-fatal punishment for Andres, who at that point had convinced him he killed a hostage. And because he knew the television interview was coming up, maybe Sergio assumed Andres would use it to “clear” his name anyway. And empathy isn’t one of Sergio’s strong suits either, so through that lens, I can rationalize it.

Also it was lowkey funny to me how Andres was there like DENVER MUST DIE until he found out Sergio put the button there, then he was like “oh hermanito, you and your practical jokes <3″

Still, like you said, Andres and Sergio weren’t brothers yet at this point. They were probably supposed to be lovers lmao and had a dysfunctional Hannibal Lecter x Will thing going on. But because they made #hermanos canon, that button moment just feels very out of place now, especially given how much the two genuinely love each other.

Guess we could also say that Sergio’s just generally kinda bratty with Andres XD Like, he knows no matter what, Andres would forgive him anything. That’s how I see it anyway! 

[dormarunt]

I'll send two because I can do whatever the fuck I want to do. 7 in prompts and 28 in Dialogue!

Can't wait!

Since prompt 7 (siblings for reasons) was already filled, it's time for number 28 - “You were never going to do it, weren’t you?”

--

“Put the gun down or I’ll shoot him.”

Martín’s head flies to where the guy is now pointing his gun at and tries to control his shock when he finds out it’s at Andrés. He’s barely put down his own gun, still reeling at the fact that he was discovered, and he’s getting his hands in the air. Empty.

He was taken by surprise - by the both of them - but he’s quick, he can read the room. The armed guy has no way of knowing that Andrés is with him, so maybe they can play it to their advantage. He turns to the man pointing his gun to Andrés, and is frozen to the spot when he feels it - he can’t see it since Andrés is behind him, but he knows that his friend just trained his gun on him. Martín’s breath stops.

“I’ll shoot him myself; he’s not with me.”

The man - Vincent, part of Delorenzo’s security team - looks at Andrés, then down at Martín. He had been hiding behind a container; according to the building’s plans there should have been no way that someone found him, but there Vincent was - gun drawn, and now pointed at Andrés.

“You were told to come alone.”

“I am alone. Well, not as such, since you’re here, but this gentleman isn’t with me.” He’s addressing Martín now, “Who are you?”

Martín is uncharacteristically stuck. He’s always careful, always aware, so the fact that he managed to fuck their whole deal up before it even began throws him into a complete spin. He remembers no other name but his own and Andrés’. A beat later, Sergio’s.

Sergio it is, then.

Why not? The asshole is never getting involved; he has Andrés to do all the dirty work for him.

Still, he keeps his mouth shut and thinks up the rest of his story.

Meanwhile, Vincent doesn’t seem to be buying the fact that they don't know each other. Martín was right to worry about him - though not worried enough to plan for the possibility of getting caught like this, it seems. He can only hope that they get to live long enough to learn their lesson. The way Vincent is looking at him right now, the inhale, the barely perceptible squeeze of his finger above the trigger—

“I don’t buy this. Nobody knew but you.” He looks at Andrés now. “He was armed.”

Martín’s mind’s still spinning, weaving plausible scenarios - Andrés came there as an 'independent entity' so the Professor's name was never used. He can always say that the Professor had been following all large arms deals and he'd sent Martín to—

All thoughts come to a halt inside his brain as something blunt presses against his skull. His head tilts with the push of the gun - Andrés’ gun - and his blood turns to ice.

“Who are you?”

He’s heard that voice before, the intense one, the one Andrés has right before he snaps. A little playful, like the wildling he is, toying with his prey. It’s theatrical because it’s Andrés, and he takes great delight in turning even murder into a show.

It’s never been directed at Martín before.

“Speak now,” Andrés says, taking a long, exaggerated inhale, “or forever hold your peace. We’re all busy people, with busy lives. Tell me who you are, and why you’re here, and maybe I won’t paint the room with your brains. Can’t promise for him, though; he seems to be having a rough day.”

“The Professor,” says Martín, ducking his head and pushing his hands up a little higher.

Andrés doesn’t lower his gun, but Vincent does - just a tad. He tilts his head.

“Who?”

“The Professor. He’s, uh— he’s in the market for a lot of equipment. Heard that you’re the man to see for his needs and is very— particular about the research he puts into his prospective business partners.”

Martín really hopes that Andrés can run with it, but maybe— not too far. He seems to have a different understanding of ‘too far’ though.

“So he sent you to spy for him?”

There’s more to his story but it doesn’t want to come out, not when Andrés takes one step back but only so that he can settle behind him. Martín feels the end of his gun at the back of his head - it’s not touching him but he can still feel it. Andrés has him on his knees, at gunpoint and seems to have gotten way too into the role.

Whatever role he’s playing, because it seems to be a different one that Martín is.

He just wanted to buy themselves some time, but not enough that the other security guys come looking for Vincent. There will be a shootout and they both know it, but Andrés is his particular brand of seething calm, gun still pointed at Martín instead of shooting the other fucking guy.

His mouth gets drier when Andrés cocks the gun, the small, mechanical echo of it spilling in the large warehouse.

“Fine, don’t speak.”

“I was just supposed to plant a bug and get out. I must have—” He swallows dryly, head dizzy. He can’t remember which storyline he settled on in the split second he had the thought. “I don’t know, okay? Time; I don’t—” He shakes his head, not even trying to sell it anymore. “I miscalculated. I heard the car pulling over and I hid. I’m not supposed to be here, I—”

Vincent buys it. He starts to lower his gun, barely gets to open his mouth when the sound of a gunshot makes Martín flinch and duck, covering his ears. When he opens his eyes again, Vincent is tilted back, seemingly weightless, suspended at an unnatural angle, but then he just crumbles. Bullseye shot from Andrés; the guy falls like a ragdoll.

His ears are ringing and he can taste metal at the back of his throat. Vincent is dead, not even twitching, and Andrés is grabbing Martín’s arm and dragging him to his feet.

“There are two more guards inside, the one in the car will probably drive Mr. Delorenzo away by the time we make it out. We’ll take the East stairwell into the back alley, then into the building next door and down to the parking. Let’s go!”

Andrés kills both of the guards; Martín, even though he tries his best, only manages to not get shot. Not an easy feat, definitely more than he thought he could do, but he does it. Not a single bullet of his hits its mark, but Andrés more than makes up for it. Their exit isn’t clean but they’re both alive; and with Vincent dead, the Professor’s name is still safe.

Martín is clearly in shock; a weird mix since adrenaline is still pumping through him, making him hyper-aware, startlingly awake. They’re safe, halfway out of the city already, but he can’t relax. There’s an undercurrent of wrongness around everything, a pull of unease even though there’s just him and Andrés in that car, driving away in silence.

There’s not much to be said, the deal is off and they’d have to find a new seller, which Sergio will definitely not appreciate, but they can still work around. The plan is safe.

He looks at Andrés in the driver’s seat, calm and deep in thought, but not looking like he’s just shot three guys. The killing isn’t the surprise though; it’s something else, a little worry that gnaws at Martín and he can’t shake.

“Back there,” Martín breaks the silence, for the first time in what feels like hours. “When you had your gun on me. You weren’t really going to do it, were you?”