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mikichko · 6 days

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little bit personal but i’ve gone through lots of weight fluctuations in my life and no matter what size i am, summer is always hard for me.

which is why i cannot stop thinking about being ghost’s partner through summer.

we already know that he’s a man of few words, prefers to observe more than anything. so he really doesn’t miss the meticulous way that you plan out your outfits.

shorts have to be a certain length, shirts have to be at least long enough to hit your hips and sleeves long that are up to mid bicep. hell, he’s even seem you choose to wear pants all summer instead of even attempting shorts. too anxious over how you’ll be perceived to let yourself enjoy a nice warm breeze on your legs.

he asks you once if you’re warm, approaching the conversation the best way he knows how, only to have you laugh and tell him that the pants just hold you better. don’t need to give people a reason to comment on your appearance. he nods and you seem happy that he’s happy with your response.

but he’s not. listen, simon’s not really one to jump to defend someone’s ego from being bruised. god knows the team rags on johnny too often for him to pretend otherwise. but this? nah, this is different.

he’s all too familiar with the way bodies react and absorb the shock and trauma of war. has seen soldiers of all shapes, sizes, identities tank hits like no one’s business. there’s absolutely nothing he despises more than for the untrained, ill informed cretins offering opinions on someone else’s body. specially if it’s ever directed at you.

he’ll never say this though. at least not outloud. though, his actions do speak for themselves.

small pats on your hips as he passes by you. wrapping his arm around your lower belly instead of your waist, you try to swat at him but he just pulls you back into him. insisting that he lays on you when you’re stretched on the couch, dropping kisses on your clothed belly while his hands draw patterns on your plush thighs. if he’s feeling cheeky he’ll sink his teeth into them just to get a little squeal out of you.

even in public he doesn’t ease up. pulls you into his lap in front of your friends, knows you love it despite your protests. lounging out on a patch of grass along the walking trail, he pulls you closer to him and has one of your legs draped over his. massaging the fat there as you chatter about nonsense.

idk simon riley just really loves you and loves the body that keeps you alive and feeds your personality.

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50cal-fullauto-astarion · 10 months

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your bones singing into mine

nikto x GN!reader (no use of Y/N) 1.7k words

(parts: one - two )

cw: reader is a bio weapons engineer, extreme isolation, allusions to suicide

you were once a brilliant thing, a creator of terrible and powerful miracles of modern science that could bring the world to its knees, and the russian crime syndicate that swept you up tucked you away in a small, dark place to keep you safe while they moved. nikto arrives at this barren corner looking for information and resources, and he finds exactly that in you. he decides that he will keep you, put you back to rights.

Nikto was wonderful—he held so many other people within himself, beneath his mask, like endless refractions of facets folding in on themselves. He called himself ‘we,’ and he dug you out of your grave, and he replaced the family that forgot you down here, in the dark.

(They forgot, didn’t they? They wouldn’t just leave you? They wouldn’t pack you up like the dead family cat in a shoebox, give you a thoughtless little funeral, only to walk away forever?)

(There used to be others down here with you, but they’re gone now. A few got sick. One said he was going to see himself out, holding a bottle of OxyContin, and he told you that you ought to see yourself out as well. He never got back up to leave. And now there is a room at the back of the dark place you just don’t go to.)

Every single one of Nikto thought you were special enough to take away from the bunker when the world was well-ended, because of all the secrets you kept papering the inner walls of your skull. Schematics, calculations, formulae. Components, dosages, contacts both dead and alive. A forgotten vault of knowledge, and his kindness bought him passage into it.

The bunker had been running on emergency power for two years now, recirculating the stale air, and the only light came from the dull red bulbs in cages at the tops of the walls. You couldn’t remember your hands being anything other than burgundy, nor your face in the water-stained mirror in the bathroom. All the food you ate was crimson, and so was all the water you drank.

There was only one pistol, and it stayed tucked in your waistbands as long as you could remember, red as drops of blood.

(It was strange that the length of your memory shrank and shrank and shrank. You were someone important once, from a line of important people. You were a scientist, and you made powerful things. You held the sun in your hands, and contemplated the cost of unleashing it on the world.)

(What is Armageddon if it was only ever a threat? Could such a thing be controlled, directed? If it could not, was it still an effective deterrent? Could you still bend all the world to your iron fist if it meant there would be no world left were you to open your fingers? Would you kill yourself along with everyone else to prove that you keep promises?)

Nikto brought with him the first cracks of natural light you’d seen in years, and fresh air came along with it. He arrived with others, large and sharp bodies in the angry and sullen shapes of tactical gear, and he walked at the front, cradling a big gun in his sleek arms. He looked at your pathetic little pistol, shaking in your hand at your side, with something like contempt.

“It’s over now?” you asked him, never once lifting the barrel of your gun. “Did they send you to come get me?”

He tilted his head almost imperceptibly, readjusted the grip on his gun by millimeters. There was a soft creek of leather from his gloves. He jerked his head over his shoulder, threw a hand dismissively, and his fellows fell away. To you, he said, “There is a database in this bunker. It contains the inventions of a team of scientists. Where is it?”

Oh, the way you grinned, sick-dog, mange-ridden, wanting so badly to please. “Me. I’m the database.”

His eyes under his heavy mask narrowed, then widened. “We don’t understand what you mean.”

“I have a perfect brain. It’s—a little foggy. Spiders crawled in and made lots of webs, but everything is there. It’s all there. I know how Nova Gas was invented, and I know so many big, loud things that the Soviet Union didn’t get to use,” you promised him, taking a jittering step to the side. Your voice was pain, rusted with disuse, but you were not lying. “The Kulikova’s put me down here to keep me safe while the world ended. Everyone is dead, it’s just me. So, you being here means it’s over, right? You’re going you bring me to them?”

A strange look washed over his eyes, and something happened in the carriage of his shoulders—maybe his body tilted towards you, recognizing something familiar in your rundown existence. You wouldn’t have the time or energy to think of it until later. But he chews on a silent moment, his finger caressing the trigger of his rifle, and he nodded.

“The world is done ending,” he assured you (and it’s…mostly a lie, but only mostly—his world had ended, and your world was ended, so perhaps it was close enough to the truth), “but the Kulikova’s are dead. They…asked us to retrieve you. Keep you safe.”

A frown contorted your features, almost a sneer. “I’m supposed to work,” you snapped. “I’m supposed to work! I’m supposed to WORK—!”

He cut you off, one hand snapping from his rifle to your arm, gripping you tight. “You are going to work. We need the plans in your head. We’re going to fix the world. Do you want to help us with that?”

Your frown deepened, and you surged right into him, pressing against his body, crushing your face against his mask. He tightened severely, jerking, and it felt like your wrist was going to break.

“I don’t make things that fix things,” you spat, desperate that this stranger understand the reasons your soul was sold from day one, “I make things that make people scared. I put lightning in a bottle, and it’s only supposed to quiet the lambs on their way to slaughter. Does that make sense?”

(There were many things that the world would never, ever know about Andre Nikto. That, in a past life, he would doodle skulls and crossbones and fat sleeping snow leopards on the corners of his reports to focus his mind between sentences. That he would sing or hum Krokodil Gena’s Birthday Song to himself when he was feeling very poorly, because that’s what his father used to do to soothe him. That he preferred his tea from a samovar, and that he liked to slurp it boiling hot from a saucer with a sugar cube between his teeth.)

(That he came down to a bunker forgotten by gangsters-gone-global to find a solid state drive or a computer, only to find an accomplished scientist rotted away to insanity and almost nothing else—only to find you, and fall in love with you the moment you demanded he understand the magnitude of potential atrocity made by your hands.)

“We do,” he told you, voice a gravel-grit moment of understanding. Another note rang within it, a chord of relief stricken in some deep, hallowed hollow within him. “Would you come with us?”

Satisfied, you relaxed, though you could not bring yourself to back away from the mask. Something in his eyes locked you in—perhaps the steely gray reminded you of the Baltic Sea, along which you grew up, or perhaps you found his patchy, plucked eyelashes charming and vulnerable on such a foreboding body. You couldn’t say. But his grip on your wrist relaxed into something bordering on beckoning.

“We’ll go,” you told him, the slip into his patterns an easy one, as if you had already stepped through his threshold and weaved yourself into the tapestry of his existence. “The Kulikova’s will want to get started.”

“They’re dead,” he repeated patiently. “They are corpses, and they’re working on nothing. Beyond that, their goals were nothing. Forget about them.”

It didn’t settle into your mind completely—it would take months before the idea even rooted itself in your mind—but you didn’t argue him. Instead, you let him lead you by the wrist, to the exit stairs you had spent years watching.

“It’s different now that the world ended,” he warned you. “You’re going to get sick, after being down here for so fucking long, and it’s going to hurt. A lot. But we will put you back together.”

You shifted from foot to miserable foot, curling your hand to try to take his. Anticipation flooded through you, a brutal resurrection. “Of course you will. You’d’ve wasted your time if you didn’t intend to,” you said, as close to an admission of faith as you thought you’d ever manage again.

It made him laugh—only a rough bit, the grit of powdered glass under a hard boot—but it sounded like salvation.

“I’m going to cover your eyes,” he warned you, and you thought with great offense it was because the world was such a tragedy now that he would rather protect you from it, but he continued, “the light is going to burn your retinas like a fucking nightmare.”

You looked at him, searching, and found his eyes vexed under the mask, swimming in the black of his grease. He’d walked this path before, it was evident in his voice. All of these things had happened to him before, and he did not have someone who knew, who could prevent little pains as they collected.

You nodded. “Spasibo. Okay.”

He laughed again, and your skin prickled at the broken-glass-and-gravel tone. “We like the Russian. You should speak it more,” he hummed, and one of his arms slid across your back to brace you. His free hand came to your face, pressing over your eyes carefully, to shield them from what was about to unfold in front of you.

With great care, because he was holding something of utmost preciousness to him, Andre Nikto led you out of the bunker that should’ve been your grave, holding you steady as your bare feet touched grass for the first time in three years, as the white-hot light of sunshine peaked between the cracks his hand couldn’t prevent over your eyes. He held you through the agony of sensation, and led you to an armored vehicle, to a new life.

“It’s overwhelming, we know,” he promised, as you curled into a ball in the backseat. He took one of your hands and held them in both of his, keeping low, as if making a vow. “We’re going to take care of you. We’re going to put you back together—we’ll never leave you behind.”

His hands squeezed tight, as if he needed you to understand.

“You’ll never be alone again. We won’t let that happen.”

All you felt was relief and love flooding you in equal measure, your fingers turned to claws in his grip, and he held even tighter.

You would leave outrageous damage behind in the touch if he ever left you, and he only welcomed it.

#cod nikto #mwii nikto #nikto x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod mw x reader #i slammed this together at like 2 to 330 am fighting benadryl the whole way and i like it alright enough #i'm def still affected to this day by reading a doll house and the awakening in high school and having major brainrot that it could work if #they were crazier which is absolutely the wrong thing to take from either of those but yknow what my city now #my work

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bluegarners · 27 days

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wait why is "i suck at summaries" a bad thing or a red flag for some people?? sometimes it is really hard to write a summary for a fic, i didn't realize adding that kind of addendum would cause people to not want to read it

#i dont think i have ever added something like that but i have def written summaries that were not good at all #ao3 #fanfic

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callmehere-iwillappear · 2 months

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📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

read death wish

#ask #Anonymous #(def mind the tags bc it does get very heavy but lfjdskfld)#sorry not sorry this fic altered my brain chemistry more than any other fic has i will Never stop reccing it #again. it does get heavy. and thats not everyones thing which is totally fair #but. if u can handle that kinda thing. i serioulsy cannot recommend it enough #as far as fanfic writers in general there are. so many i could recommend that we would be here all day so im just sticking w that kajfldksj #also tysm for the ask!!#(ask..s?? im assuming those other two were urs as well but alfjsdlkf)

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airborneice · 3 months

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in hindsight my last flatshare kinda sucked BUT did I ever tell you guys abt the sheer delight and amusement I felt when I first moved in and found out that the pets there just happened to be two black cats. with yellow eyes. who are named after Norse gods. felt like i was living with Freyja’s long-lost brothers fr

#idk what thor and odin the gods are known for but the cats were pretty chaotic so I feel like the names probably suit them #i kinda miss the boys but alas. they’re my ex flatmate’s so I couldn't take them with me 😭#Thor is very fluffy and chews cables #Odin is cross eyed and liked to sit on my computer when I wasnt looking and #sign me out of google/delete all my drawings (I got them back it’s fine)/rewrite Wife’s fanfics #i miss them sometimes #*re-reads that last tag* oh yeah no there's def a drawing of freyja deleting stuff off kaisa's library computer to be made here isnt there

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exaltior-a · 10 months

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I was on some fire shit when I was writing chapter one of Eat Me Whole. Read Eat Me Whole by Broken_Record on ao3 IMMEDIATELY

#Dirkjake #homestuck #fanfic #my writing #eat me whole #emw #EMW #violence ment #i love writing from Dirk's pov he's so fucking unhindged and pathetic #jake english #dirk strider #theyre soooo obsessed w eachother #they should beat eachother up and/or kiss/have extreme homoerotic tension #theyre like what if lesbians were gay men #they have THE most toxic codependent lesbian teenage romances ive ever SEEN and theyre DUDES #“men” is something i use loosely though jskes def non-binary

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pastafossa · 4 months

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pasta i’m so excited that you love baldur’s gate 3 and mass effect!! who are your favorites in mass effect?

I do! I adore it, it's got all the qualities I loved in my favorite Bioware games but also feels frikkin HUGE, fortunately in a good way and not in a I SWEAR TO BABY REAPERS/DREAD WOLF IF I SEE THIS ROCK ONE MORE TIME sort of way. I haven't gotten to play as much as I usually would obviously - I'm still in Act 1, poking my nose in every single cave and hole I find - but I'm definitely loving it, and am thoroughly invested in all my little ducklings and their backstories!

Oh God though, Mass Effect. Mass Effect, my darling, the space, the aliens, the story, the crew, the Normandy I shed tears for, THE FUCKING SPACE SQUID VILLAINS. I love that series with my whole heart so far I have met Kaidan's VA and Jen Hale, I NEED MORE. I've done little cons for it, had the Paragon logo on my car for AGES. This (and Dragon Age) was My Fandom for a long, long time, which is one reason I like BG3 so much! It scratches the exact same itch.

If I had to choose from Mass Effect - like I generally love 95% of them if I'm honest buuuuuuut IT'S COMMANDER FEMSHEP SHE IS MY FAVORITE PROTAGONIST ON THE CITADEL oh wait this is about companions, my number one is definitely my Space Raptor Beloved, Garrus Vakarian. This fucking dork ('your waist is very... supportive' SIR) and his calibrations, this tortured dinosaur of an alien, his Batman renegade phase in ME2. I ADORE HIM. He's the reason I got back into fanfiction in *checks old AO3 account* 2015, when I wrote a Shakarian one-shot for a friend on a whim. It's still on AO3 too and I like to read it sometimes and REMEMBER THE FEELING OF LOVE FOR HIM.

Second: MY DARLING CHAOTIC TANK BABY, MY SPICY NOODLE EATING CHILD, MY FINGER QUOTES USING KROGAN BARREL OF INSANITY, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

Third: you know me and my girl Tali gotta have our emergency induction port nights

Finally, fourth and fifth are basically a tie between Captain Canada, He Of The Beautiful Hair And Voice, Kaidan (Raphael Sbarge is SO nice btw); and Thane, my precious rasping space alien assassin who was done DIRTY in ME3 i could rant on this ALL DAY

Anyway those are my top five! But like I said, I kinda love the whole team(s). Even when you hit the bottom of my list, probably Jacob or Liara, I still like them, so ME's a rare series where I just love all my little babies.

#mass effect #i adore mass effect and if i were to get any tattoo on my body it would be from this #either a paragon symbol or maybe the N7 logo #either way this was a HUGE part of my life #damn though looking back at the fanfic i wrote was wild cause i can def see threads of my writing style that evolve into TRT #but yes i was (and sorta continue to be) a huge ME fan #i've got ME prints on the wall and still regularly wear my N7 gear and have a statue of garrus #like goddamn was that series PERFECTION

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moononastring · 2 years

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your elucien drabble (🥵🥵🥵) gave me a Thought….. we’ve all heard “tell me you’re mine” but have we considered, “tell me i’m yours” or “say that i’m yours.”

it’s like vulnerable and a bit needy, but also hot?? idk just …. after all those years of rejection, lucien just needing to hear her say it !!

ok i’ll see myself out now

You know what 'nonnie? You're so right.

Here's a little treat for you too:

Lucien wrenched himself away from her lips and mustered any sense of discipline he had left to back away from her, shaking his head.

“Why — why did you stop?” Elain whispered, panting slightly and he could hardly look at her as she glanced at him with those wide eyes, as she licked her lips. He stared at her as she leaned against his closed bedroom door, her sleeping robe now open to reveal a lacy little thing he could hardly comprehend with all her lovely creamy skin on display.

A walking daydream she was. And Lucien was going to vomit.

“I can’t do this.” he choked. “I can’t do this if you aren’t — if you don’t —”

He shook his head again and looked away from her. It had been three years of awkward tension. Three years of trying to pretend he was fine with the nothing they had between them. Three years he had gladly given her space.

But then she had reached out to him. She had sought him out. For company. For conversation. For friendship. For a little more than that.

It had been slow and it had been steady but — but this? He couldn’t do this if she wasn’t going to stay. If she wasn't going to be his the way he longed to be hers.

“I can’t kiss you or do all the things I want to do with you if you’re only coming to me as a last resort.” he said quietly and finally looked at her. “I don’t want to be your last option.”

Elain watched him with an expression he couldn’t quite place and Lucien wanted the ground to swallow him as regret and shame spread through his body. He shouldn’t have said anything. He had been given the chance to kiss her and touch her and his damn head was ruining it for him.

He sighed. “I’m —”

“You really think that, don’t you?” she said quietly. “That I…that I would be cruel enough to seek you out because I’m what? Bored? So I might as well kiss you and see where it goes?”

“I never said you were cruel.” he said, straightening. “But you did avoid me. For a long time.”

“I know.” she said and her eyes fell to the floor. Lucien cringed.

“I don’t hold it against you.” he added softly. “But I want you to be sure that I am your choice because you want me. Not because you feel like you don’t have anyone else.”

Elain pursed her lips and he tried not to let his eyes dip to her lovely legs as she took a step toward him.

He said nothing else as she paused in front of him and waited. He couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth, to fill the silence, and Lucien had always been good at waiting.

He watched Elain as she glanced at him. “I could have anyone else I wanted.” she said. “You wouldn’t get in the way.”

Lucien’s fists clenched and he had to swallow before replying. “No. I would never get in your way.” he said, even as it shattered his heart. “You are your own person first and foremost. Always.”

But then she smiled at him. Smiled so beautifully, his heart nearly tore in two at the sight. Whatever sanity he had left was slowly leaving his body.

“Then I need you to know,” she began and Lucien watched her, mesmerized as she lifted her hands to her robe and slowly slid it off. “That you are my choice. I want you, Lucien, because there is no one else I could ever want to love me. No one else to share everything that I am with.”

Lucien swallowed hard, his eyes on the robe that had pooled on the ground until Elain brought a hand to gently lift his chin and meet her gaze.

“Tell me that I’m yours.” he whispered almost pleadingly. “Tell me that I’m yours in the way that you are mine.”

She smiled again at him, tenderly, and Lucien felt it then. The spark. The warmth of her emotions. The love he craved.

“You are mine and only mine.” she said softly to him and cupped his face. “You are mine and I am only yours. By fate and by choice.”

“I’m yours.” he breathed and finally let his arms wrap around her waist as she planted a loving kiss on him. “I’m yours.”

“You’re mine.” she whispered against his lips, claiming him once more. “From now until the world is no more. Will you have me?”

“Until the world is no more and whatever comes after. With everything that I am.” Lucien promised and she gave him that dazzling smile once again then brought her lips to his for a kiss worth a thousand kisses. Until she pulled away and Lucien groaned.

Elain only had the nerve to giggle and give him a coy little smile. “Give me everything. I want it all.” she demanded, pulling him against her firmly. “I only wore this for you to peel it off.”

#elucien #elucien fanfics #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #I was taking a shower and saw this and ran to write it as fast as I can #UNEDITED SO SORRY LOL #a little angsty but what's the harm #mine #you probably meant when they were going at it but #this happened instead #he def does say it again #but more demanding and much more sure of himself #elucien drabbles

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nexus-nebulae · 11 days

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suddenly remembering how we used to write down conversations between our old host and their "ocs" (see: headmates) during school when we were super stressed out. hmm.

#this is from the same time period that we found out Aerina was from so we were def a system but still an egg #still in that all-systems discord rp server while i was doing this and still clueless 😭 like i think abt that fact so often i am Dumb 😭😭#but like. we have a few memories of doing this during exams and things. and we had not had our syscovery yet #but like. in those few fragmented memories. i can Tell there's multiple people there #like?? i don't know how to describe how we know if a memory was formed by multiple of us or just one of us #like if multiple people are near front or if it's just one in that memory #and sometimes we can tell OH that was THAT GUY that makes so much more sense now but not often #but we can tell when a memory is from a cofronting time? idk it's weird #these were conversations with the same guys we had after the syscovery though with a few exceptions #sometimes i wonder if it would be a bad idea to try to find all my old fave fanfics of the time to try to unearth some fictives-#we definitely had at least one. i know for sure. from a specific fic #bc we dressed up as one of those fic characters for halloween #it was specifically a fanfic character that guy was not in the canon whatsoever lmao

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katmaatui · 8 months

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Read a long post about a hp cult and hmmm

#it’s based around a fic which I can’t remember if I read but I def know that name and description so I bet I read it. and just it’s weird #seeing a cult built around something you were extremely unhealthy obsessed about (hp and hp fanfic) and just if it was a little later I #could have been and just hmm #Personal Stuff I Guess

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deonideatta · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: SPY x FAMILY (Anime), SPY x FAMILY (Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess Characters: Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Twiyor Week 2022, Day 1 - Domestic, loid "for the mission" forger vs domesticity, domesticity is winning Series: Part 1 of Twiyor Week 2022 Summary:

At the end of the day, there's comfort to be found in the assurance of a (somewhat) quiet and routine home life.

@twiyorweek

#first twiyor week entry!!!#it's midnight here lol but yea here it is #spy x family #sxf fic #my fics #spy x family fanfic #spy x family fanfiction #twiyorweek #twiyorweek2022 #twiyorweek day 1 #twiyor #loiyor #sxf #gonna have to readjust to writing ship fic lol my last few fics were all gen :')#am def having fun with it tho lol

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korixae · 1 year

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if i ever get famous i’ll be so offended if there’s no fanfics of me on ao3

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blorbosexterminator · 2 years

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Ohhhh I’d love to see Martin’s and Sergio’s first meeting. It’d be soo funny in whatever way you imagine it happening. Like I imagine Andres introducing them in a work setting, having Martin explain a plan they want Sergio’s input on or even after the fact showing off to Sergio how they pulled of an impossible heist. And Sergio nodding along thinking “wow this guy really knows his stuff”, impressed with the equations and terminology Martin uses. And as soon as they’re done with the heist talk Martin proposes Sergio a ‘masterful fellatio’ ( or something along the lines off) and it throws Sergio completely off. Second or two passes Martin starts laughing ,Andres starts laughing and Sergio doesn’t know how to respond, if it was a serious offer and he should politely but firmly refuse or if they’re just messing around with him. Probably both. With time I think that’s how Martin brought Sergio’s guard down. Something I don’t think anyone in Andres’ life managed to do (the wives, work associates…) I would necessarily call it ‘trust’ but I feel like Sergio relaxes around Martin, doesn’t have to be on guard as he usually is.

Exactly, anon, exactly! In whatever scenario you imagine their first meeting, it'll still be hilarious. Like we see how flustered Sergio is sometimes still around Martín after ten years, imagine how ???? he was the first time Martín was Martín around him.

Please yes, this scenario! Absloutely love it. Sergio not being able to decipher whether Martín is serious or fucking with him and Andrés being with Martín must have sent him insane.

I fully agree with you here too! I definitely believe out of anyone Andrés ever knew, befriended, worked with, or married, Martín is the one who ended up with any significant effect on Sergio. Sergio doesn't exactly "trust" Martín because he knows Martín and he knows exactly where and how would he trust him, this is much more intimate (and I doubt Sergio trusted even his brother in that regard. He's too smart and knows them both too well to trust them in that sense.)

I think a lot of elements went into making Sergio's guard go down with Martín. He knows that he fully loves and has unbounded loyalty to Andrés, which I'm sure had a part of why Sergio ended up "liking" Martín so. Martín is also a lot like Sergio himself. I often think Martín is a mirror image to both brothers. In soul, ambition, attitude, morality, sense of art and romanticism, he and Andrés are the same. But as Andrés said, in his genius, sheer dedication, obsession, egotistical believe that on one else alive can do the job like they are doing, and unstoppable drive, he is Sergio's mirror image. And both Sergio and Martín know it, which makes Sergio uneasy (and which makes two of their most significant scenes in the show together start with Martín telling him that unlike everyone else, he knows Sergio and can immediately dissect what's happening in his brain. Unlike a lot of the lcdp characters, Martín is perhaps the only character who sees Sergio exactly as he is.)

But also above all, there is such genuine respect between them. Martín cares about Sergio's opinions and approval as much as Andrés does, this obviously, especially for a character as egotistical as Martín, didn't just come from nowhere. And it's very telling too that this is the exact same vice versa. Martín is the *only* banda member who knew how the gold goes out. And I do believe Sergio didn't only tell him because Martín noticed something was hidden from him and outright refused to enter the bank if he wasn't told, but because Sergio respects him and when it comes down to the heart of it, he "trusts" Martín. And with all of that, it's such an older brother and younger brother relationship too. It parallels Sergio's relationship with Andrés in such a fascinating way because there aren't many if any characters in the show that Sergio "reveries" but you can definitely notice it in his scenes with Martín. Such a fascinating relationship!

#sorry for this qhaksos I just love their relationship so much #SO MUCH #as much as I am excited and hopeful for both berlermo scenes and hermanos scenes (and def the trio together scenes)#I'm nearly even MORE excited for more solo Martín and Sergio scenes #I need to see more of them #fanfics and headcanons that always have Martín so insecure because of Sergio or that are generally treating the whole #who Andrés would choose #miss the point so much #like Roci and I once agreed upon if the three of them were trapped in a deserted island #both Andrés and Martín would choose to give what they have to Sergio and die together #that's the difference. he's Martin's younger brother too. Andres would die with Martín but he would die for Sergio #and Martín would agree with him about it #Anyway what a duo. what a relationship #wasn't satisfied with many things in the lcdp finale but the second to last scene being a smile shared between Sergio and Martin #isn't one of them #like YES that is the main most important relationship of Martín's in the current time-line after Sergio #Martín treating Raquel like a younger sister of sorts too. comforting her in the bank like he comforted Sergio once just ahhhhhh #I'll stop now. I promise

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