#son of lobo fics

[jokest3r]

Matvey-Lukyan Volkov-Makarov ☀

or "Matthew Clarke," really depends on who you ask...

General Info -

Name: Matvey-Lukyan Volkov-Makarov(True Identity is on a need-to-know basis)

Age: 19

Issued Identity: Matthew Clarke

Issued Age: 23

Issued Rank: Specialist

Callsign: "Kid" until Further Notice

Status: Alive

Ethnicity: Tajik

Nationality: N/A(His parents kept his existence fairly quiet, only his mentors and his parent's closest associates knew he existed for quite some time before he went missing when he was older. His parents when he was young did debate that he may exist under a different name in the legal system in Tajikistan but didn't look into it after Matvey was disinterested at the prospect of meeting his biological parents.)

Height: 5' 7

Blood-Type: O+

Weight: 145 Pounds / 67 Kg(He came weighing less than that.)

Further Info -

"All things considered the kid came out far better than anyone would have expected given who his parents are."

Matvey was adopted a little over at two months old along the border crossing between Russia and Kazachstan on a cargo road that showed little action. He never really thought about the reason why he was there or the what how, just that he would've died if not for intervention (lucky or damning) you be the judge.

He had a pretty fair upbringing if you don't bring up visiting warehouses with his father or playing with guns at a young age. He was originally raised to be just that, a son, however it would become more skewed as the year's went on and his father Makarov's power grew. Then his role went past being only a son and more of a "good soldier." Of course, what Matvey would've called his first "failure" was failing his mentors and by proxy, his father. His mentors said he would never be a soldier and neither would he be strong enough to fight. It just wasn't in his cards. After that, his father's expectations seemed to slow down to a simmer, and his approach became to hold Matvey at an arm's reach away from the Ultranationalist Party and revolving plans. He would be protected, but not without getting trained to protect himself and escape at a moment's notice.

Though Makarov obviously wasn't his only father, his extended family mostly comes from Yuri's side of the family. Matvey obtained personality traits from Makarov but was much closer to Yuri. Yuri's a sensitive topic as is most of everything in his life. Yuri and Matvey both have something in common and that is "abandoning" or in Matvey's case "running away." Yuri left, without a word or notice and Matvey chased after him, and only realised he wasn't coming back "home" after two months on the road with Lobo, his loyal guard dog. Exact details on the first year of Matvey's lone days have not been found, but not without some prying. All he has to show for it is the bloodied patch the 141 found him holding along with his belongings.

Matvey was found along the Chernobyl exclusion zone by 141 squad members bleeding out in the hospital safe house he had rigged with traps, bleeding out from a wound that a mercenary had done to him in retaliation for murdering his partner, forgetting about the long-term reward of keeping him alive and sending him back to his father. And instead attempted killing him for revenge. He said he lived well off for what he had. With his father's hired mercenaries on his tail, he couldn't exactly pick a lot of areas. They caught his scent a month before the 141 had found him, sending an SOS through a makeshift antenna but getting help when they were finally able to trace it with spare time on their hands. Matvey really hadn't intended on surviving to the end if at all.

Combat-Style: Matvey plays dirty, real dirty, most "end up killing themselves" before they even see his face. He uses traps, bombs, chemical warfare (has an inclination for using gas) throwing knives and all sorts. Usually, he keeps to having a good distance with any target and avoids close combat at all costs, if any combat at all. And tends to favor using escape tactics he's learned over his previous training. He's known by most to be very slippery and sly if he wants something over with quickly.

If with a squad on something serious he fills a support role: and (jokest3r's opinion: his support role is something similar to Elizabeth in Bioshock Infinite just without all the tears.) can find materials or target objects fairly easily since slipping through vents and getting out unseen is one of his best strengths and keeps him away from any of the serious fighting while still helping the team.

Personality: Matvey is naturally combative, moody, and "explorative" if the definition meant rule-breaking. He alternates between being quiet and isolated to being playful and rather "loud." He follows orders to a T, almost too closely like he's had past experience. He's self-destructive when it comes to most people as he doesn't want to care for much of anyone since all signs seem to point to anyone he cares for or stays with long term end up dying or disappearing one way or the other. Or abandoning him. He also tends to not understand social cues and is very affectionate even if the situation around him is dire. Warning: hugs and heartfelt conversations abound.

Allegiance: Matvey made it very clear where his loyalties lied, along with his goal to reunite with his father Yuri and gain some closure beyond bottling up all his anger and mourning for a father that doesn't seem to exist anymore. He's also seemingly gotten attached to some of the members, and would like to see them alive. When asked what that exactly meant he shrugged, thinking anyone else would've known what he meant.

As time passes the 141 hope to get Matvey out of his shell and influence him to grow and make better decisions. For now, Matvey will try to grow used to Western surroundings and hopefully, meet both his father's face to face, though he knows that it won't likely end happily. (FLAT COLOUR UNDERNEATH THE TAB)

#call of duty oc #cod oc #my art #call of duty fanart #cod oc art #cod oc: matvey-lukyan volkov-makarov #oc: matvey-lukyan volkov-makarov #FINALLY he is here #this will be his ref sheet for any further art fics and mini comics I make for him #Lobo will be getting his own page which ill likely begin to work on in 2-3 days #drawing dogs is not my for te #i kept some things rather vague as most of it will be found out in later posts #his colors in later posts will be simplified #finally i can start doing the fun stuff #but seriously #*holds matvey in palm of hand* #knife boots are in style #what do you mean watching 30000 people in a city blow up from your fathers actions isnt a good father-son bonding experience? #his baby face is now canon sorry not sorry

[captainmera]

So I was rereading the golden brother fic for like the 272727 time and I re read that scene in “Nino Lobo & Palisman” where it said if hunter was a wolf his tail would be wagging out of joy and like

I just imagined grimwalker beast hunter wagging his tail out if excitement 😭🫶

Camila loves her son. All good boyos get ruffles. :)

Also gosh, thank you for reading!!! TTOTT!!! that's so many times asdfsdfg what am I doing right---!?!

#tgb #toh #grimwalker #the golden brother #grimwalker au #tgb au

[anonymous-dentist]

Idk if you're still answering ask about your hero AU, but, how did Roier actually get his powers? And how did he manage to hide them? Because the FoH have every possible resource to find out who does and doesn't have power in the (their) city (and what kind of power they have), so it's weird to me that they've never heard about spiderman before. Also, I think you alredy answered this (sorry if that's the case), but are you thinking in write this AU into a fic?

Okay so Roier wasn’t actually born with an ability. And then his parents died, so he kinda just skimmed under the FoH’s radar as a normal kid living in the foster system.

And then he got adopted by this really fucking rich guy and his boyfriend aka Vegetta and Foolish and he lived… comfortably. Foolish has always been a hero under the FoH, but Vegetta was a vigilante/villain at the time. He wasn’t “reformed” yet. And, well. Vegetta is an alien. So.

So one day Roier, 16-ish and very ignorable, was cleaning out his dad’s attack when he got hit by a spider. And he’s always liked spiders, so he didn’t really give a shit until a couple of days later when he woke up stuck to his bed because, uh oh! He got bitten by an extraterrestrial spider!

Now obviously he should have told his dads. But he was 16 and he didn’t want to become a hero or anything and that really would’ve happened because this is around when Lobo Nocturno/Vegetta signs with the FoH… because this is when they bring Leo into the family and Vegetta didn’t want his little baby to get hurt. Back then, all Roier wanted to do is run his own restaurant, so he just kinda tried ignoring it all. He didn’t bring it up to anyone.

There wasn’t a Spider-Man until he was walking home from the library one night when he was 17-ish and he saw this girl getting robbed and he just kinda used his years of mandatory self defense training (thanks, dads) to save her. But then it turned out she, Jaiden, was the civilian identify of rookie vigilante Parakeet. She convinced him to help her out so they could protect the city together, and he agreed, and thus Spider-Man was born.

Jaiden is the only person who knows that Roier is Spider-Man. He hasn’t told anybody, not even his own son, and the FoH is pissed. He’s one of the last vigilantes not working for them, and nobody knows who he is, and nobody has been able to find out who he is over the past five or so years since he first appeared. They are actively trying to find out his identity and get him under control and get him to stop destroying their shit, because that’s what Spider-Man does. He breaks FoH shit, including heroes.

Roier is a better actor than most people think he is. Jaiden knows, and she’s keeping it a close secret despite working for the FoH as a hero. He’s going around as Spider-Man’s biggest fan and he sends in tips via grainy blurry photos that he took of Spider-Man in action (aka him setting a cheap burner phone up and recording some shit and printing the photos out) and, most importantly, he is officially on record as an abilityless person. There are zero to no records of anyone gaining an ability past four years of age, so the FoH just isn’t considering him as a suspect. He’s in the clear, and he is using that to his advantage.

Also I’d love to write this as a fic but idk where I’d even start lol. It feels too big

#asks! #anon! #deli superhero au

[houseofpurplestars]

Some Lobo angst for the Past prompt. An excerpt from one of my Drac/Teddy (smut) fics 😈

Teddy was thirteen when he saw his mother's eight-year-old adopted daughter covered in blood for the first time.

"Teddy?" His father called to him from down the hall, but he barely heard it.

All Teddy heard was Mandy's giggles and his mother's predatory laugh. All he could see was the two of them, a perfect pair, framed by the doorway, smiling. Right there, in the same building, and yet, deeply embedded in a world he would simply never be a part of.

"Good work, Mandy! You're a natural." Bellafrancesca purred, stroking the girl's hair. Another giggle, and a splash of blood painted Mandy's face. She grinned from ear to ear.

Bellafrancesca had always told Teddy that he wouldn't be able to understand the importance of her work. She said men could never understand, they had no connection to divine suffering. They never experienced true pain, and therefore, could never understand how to inflict pain upon others effectively. Men, she always said, were weak.

"Tedward." His father put his hand on Teddy's shoulder and the boy startled. "That's your mother's work. Come on, son. We have a busy day."

Teddy still felt frozen, but he shuffled his feet alongside his father. Screams and laughter echoed through the basement as they made their way to the stairs.

*

At fifteen, Teddy got his first tattoo in a coke dealer's basement. He could have had the best of everything. At a word, his father would have arranged a world-renowned artist in a high rise studio. But that wasn't the point. Teddy was relieved, honestly, that it was just him and some almost-stranger, in a dank basement where he could cry and scream. He thought about Mandy, and how she would have laughed at him.

After the first, the rest became easier. He'd get a new one before the last had even healed, transforming his body into a scabbed-over canvas. They got better each time, and so did he. Soon he longed for the rush of the tiny machine that sent vibrations through his bones. Soon it became a spiritual experience. Soon, it became an escape.

The first time his mother hit him- on his eighteenth birthday- he'd already begun to enjoy pain.

*

At twenty-three, after Teddy had survived the front lines of his first turf war, his father's men took him drinking. It was everything he'd ever wanted. He felt like a king.

Bloodied, sore, high on amphetamines, adrenaline, and alcohol. He had earned a measure of respect. The men who fought beside him would be his forever now.

Teddy Lobo would spend the next decade leaning on that victory. It was enough to win his father's respect; his father expected him to be a soldier. What his mother wanted was something else entirely

#renfield #renfield anniversary #prompt: past #teddy lobo #cw child abuse

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dark Passenger - An EZ Reyes/OC Story.

So besties, I have folded spectacularly and decided to post the first chapter, just to see what the reaction is. Cue me sitting here now chewing my nails to bits as I wait to hear if it’s any good! If you enjoy it, please do let me know, and since I haven’t written a full length story for EZ yet, if you want to be helpful and put the word out to any EZ lovers out there who you think might enjoy it too, please feel free! 

Oh, and just to reiterate going on from my announcement post, this fic will centre around dark!EZ. He will be manipulative and toxic. The boy scout has died, but eventually, there will be a redemption arc. Until then, though, don’t expect a smooth ride with him! 

Words - 4,459

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.  

Maybe, if Ezekiel Reyes hadn’t been so consumed by an unquenchable thirst for revenge against the Sons of Anarchy, maybe if he hadn’t instigated calling a kill switch vote upon Marcus Alvarez with quite the gusto he had, he perhaps might have left time for El Padrino to warn him of such, before he was ousted from the head of the table.  

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. At that moment in time, the crown was a weight upon his head unlike anything he’d previously known, but he would not relent. He would not cease, not until the Sons had been pushed down via the clout of the Mayans, made to fall in line, their necks tethered like fierce guard dogs upon heavy chained leashes, each link a Mayan brother yanking back should they stray too far, ever reminded of the power they had over them.  

That power? Heroin.  

They now moved huge quantities for the Lobos New Generation cartel, their product giving the Mayans the footing they needed to crush all others beneath their weight. The streets were flooded, the prison supply now pushed exclusively by the MC, the once aptly named poison charter now standing tall and strong above all. Santo Padre led.  

The poison still swirled, though. For one man, he was only too happy, it would seem, to let it infect his veins. Yet it did not weaken him, or rather, it did no harm to the man he now was.  

The old EZ? It had all but killed him. Poisoned to death by power, greed and bloodlust. It was an opinion shared by everyone who had a seat at the table, as five pairs of dark brown eyes flitted between one another, and the large bag upon the table, placed there by their president. El Rey Oscuro, they called him in the safety of the shadows, out of the reach of his ears. The dark king. There was little light left within EZ, and they all knew it, saw it, felt it. Yes, they were back on top, untouchable, but at what cost?  

There upon the table sat the price they knew each of them would likely be set to pay for, sooner or later. The top rung of the ladder they stood upon was not without its complications, of which EZ was attempting to iron out.  

“I dunno, man,” Angel began, each other man silently thanking him for being the first to speak. “Heroin is one thing, but getting into this shit? Naw, I ain’t seeing the benefit in moving it.”

EZ rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, his forearms flexing as he knitted his fingers together before him. “Fentanyl is more powerful than heroin, many, many times over. We aren’t moving it, per se. We’re cutting our product with it.” He paused, lifting his chin a little more, the dim templo light catching the golden tones of his irises, hues the others were surprised did not burn red. It was as if hell itself had begun to swirl within him at times, after all.  

The dark king continued. “Since the unfortunateness of the warehouse fire, our first shipment for the LNG destroyed, forcing us to move an inferior quality replacement as you all know, we need to earn points with our supplier, build further trust, show initiative. We might have the heroin trade sewn up, but it’s with garbage. It’s moving, but not as quickly as the LNG would like. This sets us apart and transforms the product to one of superior quality, if we supply it to them in order to do the cutting. It’ll bring in more cash for us, too.”

Everyone remained quiet, the men shifting uneasily in their seats, their leather kuttes feeling heavy upon them, the hard wood of the chairs stifling, binding, reminding them of their place. Everyone else was held down beneath their force, but them? They were beneath the boot and the unshakable will of one man.  

It didn’t mean, however, that they would remain unquestioning in their fealty.

“EZ, while I agree we need to show such, we gotta be careful with this shit,” Bishop began, lighting a cigarette. “That stuff is deadly. If it ain’t cut correctly, it’ll set us apart in the fact that there’ll be a trail of dead bodies all leading back to us, thousands upon thousands of croaked junkies. That’s the kind of shit that gets us watched by certain governmental department eyes more so than we already are.”  

The words of his VP were, as usual, steeped in fact and good sense. EZ was, if nothing else though, a man who covered all his bases.  

“I have a chemist, one who not only is prepared to work exclusively for us in order to synthesise the fentanyl, but once moved across the border, be there to examine the cutting process and make sure it is precise enough to give the product the correct edge, thus eliminating the overdose danger. If it’s voted in, I will take him to meet with Galindo and Soledad personally, since I already broached the latter with this suggestion. She was keen, of course I told her I would need to take it to a vote, so that is exactly what we are assembled here tonight to accomplish.”

He waited expectantly, his eyes scanning the faces of the five men who sat around the table with him. Bishop spoke first.  

“No. It’s too much of a risk, especially with the eyes on us since Creep’s arrest. The heroin is moving, and that’s all we have to worry about, EZ. You’re talking about quality of product like it’s our name on the line, like we’ll be affected by it. We won’t. We’re the mules. Let the LNG worry about whether anyone thinks it’s garbage or not. We still get our cut regardless.”  

Hank was next to weigh in. “It’s a no from me, too. It’ll bring too much heat. That chemist might know what he’s doing, but can you really vouch for every single person cutting the heroin to get that kind of delicate balance right, thousands of times over? It’s way too much risk.”

“I think it’s a good idea. I vote yes.” Of course, Nestor would. Angel rolled his eyes, muttering something well under his breath. When it came to their president, the newest member of the club was nothing short of sycophantic in his eyes. Some might disagree, and state that his opinion was tainted by the fact that he disliked him, that Nestor was simply playing safe by showing loyalty during his fledgling months as a newly patched brother.  

Gilly and Angel’s votes were both against the idea, EZ’s demeanour changing in a nanosecond as he brought the gavel down, defeated, and extremely displeased by such as they all filed out of templo. The men who had voted against him could only hope that he would see the sense in their reasoning eventually, but until then, they knew El Rey Oscuro would be like a bear with a sore head.  

Picking up a beer and a bourbon from the bar, Bishop walked over to join Angel on one of the couches, sitting down with a sigh, handing him the beer. “He’s getting worse.”  

Angel’s eyes widened, his jaw twitching as he bit down, grinding his teeth slightly. The VP had noticed him partaking of that a lot of late. “You’re right, Bish. I know we all voted for war, but shit, mano. I live in the biggest fucking regret for voting that kill switch in. He ain’t ready to be at the helm.”

“I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like all of his decisions have been bad, I have to give him a little credit,” Bishop began, his thumb picking at a slight flaw in his bourbon glass. “We’re back on top because of him and his choices, but when he brings ideas like fentanyl to the table, I wonder where the fuck his mind is at. He’s reckless, and you’re right. When he behaves like that, he isn’t ready for it. We gotta try and keep a firm pull on his reins. He might be the head, but us, brother, we’re the neck.”

Angel had heard this before. “And the neck turns the head in whichever direction it wants, right?”

“Right.” His eyebrows fluttered, Bishop taking a deep breath before raising his glass to his mouth. “For as long as we possibly can. The weight of the head can always break the neck.”  

That statement didn’t fill Angel with much hope, but he had to hold a belief that somehow, his brother would settle more, and the days of him being labelled El Rey Oscuro would become a thing of the past.  

While they sat drinking and discussing, the man himself left a half-drunk beer at the bar, the headache he had coming on only exacerbated by having to share space with the men who had voted against him. He was pissed off, and sought a distraction from it, somewhere where he could feel like he was the one in charge, somewhere he could relax, preferably with something pretty to look at.  

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Yes, he needed a distraction.  

The Luna Lounge was a relatively new enterprise within Santo Padre, the owner of such wanting to offer punters a classier feel to the surroundings in which they viewed the scantily clad women twirling around poles along the long, elevated stage that ran along the back of the bar. It didn’t matter how much he dressed it up, it was still a place to drink beer and see tits and ass. Except the beer was mostly imported and the tits and ass were of superior quality to those within the smaller, grimier establishments dotted around the bleak back streets of the border town, so it had that going for it, at least.  

EZ took a seat, a guy who looked like he was all but ready to finish his shift greeting him with a tired smile, taking his drink order. Once furnished with a beer, he moved around to the stage side, scanning what was on offer as women of various appearance clocked him, all brandishing the same warm smiles full of sensual allure, those smiles not quite reaching their eyes.  

And then he saw her.  

She was breathtaking, and he could tell as he sat down before where she slowly shimmied around a pole that she had absolutely no idea how stunning she was, but god, how she worked what she had. She should have been on the front of a magazine cover, not swinging around a pole in platform shoes and underwear much too cheap to be befitting of her beauty. She was, as the other girls were too, a little lacking in lustre behind the eyes, likely wondering how life had led to them strutting around a stage for their cash, ones and fives thrown up, tens and twenties from the more generous clientele.  

Camille could feel his eyes on her before she even turned around to view him. Tall, dark, handsome. Not many of his type frequented The Luna Lounge. In fact, she wagered he likely didn’t need to pay girls to take their clothes off and dance for him at all, looking the way he did. A mere click of his fingers would be all it took, she thought to herself, sauntering over before any of the other harpies she shared the stage with clocked him.  

“Well,” she began, crouching before him, her full lips curving in a way that made something very pleasant run through him, “aren’t you the most handsome thing to walk in here all night.”

Taking a bill from his pocket, he reached for her thong, tucking it into the elastic. “Hmm.” The noise he made confirmed he agreed with her statement; of course, he did. He’d seen himself in a mirror, he knew what he had.  

Camille looked down at her hip, seeing the bill was a twenty, turning back to him with a smile full of promise. “That’s very generous of you, handsome.” Running her perfectly manicured nail slowly down his cheek, she felt a little ripple of excitement when he turned and kissed her fingertip, his dark gold eyes focusing in on her. She liked it when they made her feel special.  

“How much time does that buy me with you dancing right there in front of me?”  

“Just enough to keep you throwing up those bills if you want more.” With a wink, she slowly rose to standing, her feline glide taking her back to the nearby pole, hoisting herself up and locking her legs around it, leaning back gracefully as she slowly turned, her blonde curls tumbling, the shining blue of her eyes fixed upon his.  

He watched her intently, focusing on the way the black lace of her underwear accentuated her body, her breasts obviously not her own, but well done enough that they didn’t look ridiculous. Not like the bad boob job currently grinding into the next pole down with the kind of uncouth gusto that didn’t exist in the blonde who was captivating his attentions with her elegance. She’d accentuated her tanned skin with little sparkles, sweeps of glitter highlighting the curves of her hips, the rise of each breast and the lithe muscles in her long, slender legs.

She was immaculate, even down to her matching mani and pedi, glittery black fingers and toes, the sooty smudge of her smoky eye makeup the same, care and effort put into her appearance. Yes, she was most definitely too good for twirling around a pole for a living, but EZ wasn’t about to tell her that. It was her job to make him feel good, after all.  

“So,” he asked after a while, Camille returned to right in front of him. “How much to get you by yourself?”  

“A standard lap dance will cost you forty. A full nude version, sixty.”  

He licked his top lip, nodding. “I think the extra twenty is worth it.”  

She smiled, gracefully getting down from the stage. “Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll meet you just over there by the blue curtains, Mr President.” She winked, running her hand down his arm, her pulse fluttering. God, the muscles. She loved it when they were gorgeous. And he was the president of an MC, too. A man of power, she noted. She liked that even more; it made her feel special that he’d chosen her.  

Returning to the dressing room, she changed into a nude-coloured set of lace undies, a matching dress too, leaving on the peach toned sparkly nipple pasties she wore beneath her bra, fluffing her hair, spritzing on her favourite perfume, adding a few more sparkles before changing her shoes to match. Clear lucite with pale peach ribbons tying each one to her delicate feet and ankles.  

Leaving his almost finished draught beer on the side of the stage, EZ was on his way over to the curtained area when he saw the shimmering light of the blonde appear, Camille reaching for his hand with a soft smile that was one hundred percent allure, leading him through the curtains and into the private room. It was decorated all in dark blue, with thousands of twinkling lights strewn across the ceiling, looking like a starry sky, small booths dotted around, four other girls present, all in various stages of undress as they worked their charm for the respective men who had paid for their time.

EZ took a seat in the circular booth, Camille leaning forward, resting her hands on his thighs, her lips tickling the outer edge of his ear. “Get comfortable and enjoy, handsome.” She rose slowly, her body beginning to sway softly to the beat of the music, the song unfamiliar to him, but the tones just as sensual and richly delicious as the blonde who danced before him. Her striptease was natural, unhurried and sensually suggestive, enticing him every step by the way she made a show of something as simple as removing a dress.  

He tried to fight against the spell he felt himself falling under, the enchantment of her reveal, wanting to remain in control, the one who had others bend to his will, in order to redress the shifted balance that the lack of success at templo had left him feeling. She was here to soothe the stinging within, but he would remain objective, and her his subject.  

Perhaps someone should have explained the finer details of the purpose of a lap dance to him. He was the one paying to relinquish control, and let a beautiful woman distract him with fantasy, if only for a short time. His stance over such was certainly telling over where his mind was on the subject of losing even one ounce of control in any aspect of his life, though.  

Camille felt it, too. While she didn’t know his inner thoughts, she knew he sat there tense, fighting against himself somewhat. She leaned into him, her bra clad breasts brushing his chest through the grey, long sleeved t shirt he wore, soft meeting hard, hoping to coax a little of the tension out of him. Once again, her body dipped against his, a soft, sweet moan spilling from her lips, turning on her heel and seating herself in his lap, gently rotating her rounded butt against his crotch.  

She timed it, waiting for just long enough for his pulse to escalate, standing again, her hands smoothing over her body as she unhooked her bra, the front fastening then secured by her palms as she turned back to look at him over her shoulder, a smouldering pout accentuating her lips. Turning back to him, she moved in a graceful glide to the last bars of the song, the room quiet only for a few moments before a song he recognised instantly began to play.  

Venus in Furs was one of Camille’s favourites to strip to, internally beaming to herself as she moved fluidly, her hands working in tease over her breasts before finally revealing them, the glitter of her pasties catching the dim light, sinking to her knees to crawl toward him, hands grasping his thighs and slowly stroking upwards as she brought her body up between them.  

Mounting his lap once more, she locked her eyes onto his, gently gyrating against him a few times before bending back fully, her hips rolling slowly, her hands coming up to pull at each pastie, casting them away before she sat back up again, each blush nipple stiffening a little, trailing her fingers down his cheeks as finally, she saw the corners of his mouth upturn.  

“Got him.” she thought, watching his shoulders relax, knowing it was only a matter of time. Bare naked tits usually did the trick, though. Continuing to grind herself against him, she felt his breath hit her neck, knowing she was escalating him, giving him a few more seconds before she stood, moving back to her floorshow dance, leaving him feeling as if someone had yanked at the rope of his resolve... and unravelled it completely.  

The way she’d just moved against him had utterly blown his mind, ensnared him further than her enchanting display so far, pulled him away from himself and, what he needed most, made him forget. Here, he didn’t need to be in control. Finally, he got it. But fuck, how he wanted more.  

And that was exactly her design.  

“This no touching rule is getting more difficult to stick to by the moment,” he blurted, not able to prevent the words from leaving his mouth. Her allure, her scent, her moves, her body. Her. She’d got her hooks into him, and he couldn’t help but let the complimentary statements keep on rolling off his tongue. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”  

She smiled, smoothing her hands over her breasts, placing a foot up on the back of the booth to the side of his head, her body undulating, EZ inhaling a sharp breath. Oh, the urge to turn his head and skim a lick over her ankle. Camille saw it, too, the state she was working him up into. “I bet it’s the only thing you can think about, isn’t it? Running those big, powerful hands all over me. You have to be good, but me? Mmm, not so much.”

Lowering her leg again, she seated herself in his lap, wiggling against him, her body moving in a serpentine roll, turning her head, her breath fluttering against his cheek as she felt something very big beginning to harden against her butt. A gorgeous, jacked Latino guy with a big dick; he was definitely one hundred percent her taste, but he was work, and she had to remind herself of that.  

One more seductive dance before him, this time undoing the ribbon ties of her thong, and she was back astride him, grinding herself into him harder this time, her body pressed tightly against his, EZ physically moving his hands beneath his thighs, the temptation to grasp her almost too much to resist.  

“Yeah, do you want me, gorgeous? I can feel that you do. God, it’s so big,” she purred, her hand gently grasping his jaw as she rotated against him, EZ feeling himself spinning. There they were, client and lap dancer, and the heat that escalated between them was very, very real. More potent than either of them could have anticipated. There it was, the first thread of connection linking between them, and it crackled like a live wire.  

“You could pull my cock out and get on it right now, and I wouldn’t stop you, and no one would know. You want it, don’t you? Yeah, you wanna fuck me.”  

And god, how she did. It was unmistakable, the heat of her want as he watched the fire of it dance in her eyes, a blaze of lust that was unmistakable, that wasn’t an amped up bluff performance for the purposes of allure. However, she was in control, and she remained that way, working him up, and up... and up, until he felt his cock twitching against her, hot and hard, dying for release, tingling violently until... no she wasn't going to make him... fuck. Yes, she was. She’d actually made him cum in his pants, while staring him right in the eye entire time.

God... fucking... damn.  

He certainly hadn’t expected that, Camille climbing off him, picking up her underwear and sliding them back on, her dress following. He took her money from his pocket as he stood somewhat uneasily, adjusting his jeans, tucking the bills into the corner of her bra, eyeing her appreciatively. “What time do you finish?”

“1am,” she confirmed, fluffing her hair, resting her hands to her hips.  

“Good, I’ll wait,” he spoke, leaning to her ear. “Because the next time you make me blow my load, I want to actually be inside of you.”  

She smirked, running her fingernails down his chest, her face nearing his, still teasing him with the allure, the promise of more, until it ground to an abrupt halt. “I’m not that easy, big fella.”  

As she sauntered away, for the second time that night, EZ felt frustrated at not being able to attain the goal of having others to bend to his chosen will. While he knew the table vote would remain resolute, the same would not be said for the blonde stripper.  

He’d make her comply, because he knew she wanted him just as much as he did her. It was only a matter of wearing her down, but he would. Being on top of everything in his world was the only acceptable place for Ezekiel Reyes, and before the week was out, he very much intended to be on top of her.  

Exiting the private room, he walked back to the bar while Camille headed for the dressing room, sitting down in front of a pale beauty, with long black hair and a plentiful collection of tattoos.  

“Evening, sexy,” she purred, sinking to her knees and leaning close to him in brazen fashion.  

He replicated the lean, looking her up and down. “How’d you like to earn a hundred dollars?”

The corners of her mouth tilted. “You just came out from a private dance, and you want another? Shit, Camille must be slipping.”

“No,” he confirmed. “That girl I came out with, Camille, you say? I wanna know when she’s working this week. You tell me what hours, and the hundred is yours, babe.” To show he wasn’t bluffing, he pulled the bill from his wallet, sliding it across the shiny surface, his finger remaining. Raven looked down at it and back up at him, figuring it to be the easiest hundred she’d make that night.  

“Wednesday, seven ‘till two, Friday and Saturday, six ‘till one.”  

His finger left the top of the bill, using it to tickle under her chin with a wink. “Thanks, gorgeous.” Armed with the information he needed, he left, all the while planning his return.  

Ezekiel Reyes; he was a man who got what he wanted in the end. And damn, he wanted Camille. Meanwhile, the lady herself sat in her chair in front of her makeup mirror, sinking a shot of tequila from the bottle she always had stashed in her bag for emergencies. The owner didn’t allow the girls to drink while they worked, but in this case, she needed a little jolt of strong alcohol.  

God, the way he’d looked at her. Sure, she was in the business of having men look at her like that, especially when she was grinding herself into their lap, but there was an intensity to the man with a chest about as wide as the hood of her car, and a cock that felt so big, it likely had its own zip code. The intensity of that stare, though, a stare she knew she’d reciprocated with honest intent, it was burned into her mind. There’d been a connection there, and suddenly, Camille cursed herself for not being quite as easy as he presumed her to be.  

Because of her profession, she’d always been a little uptight about the speed with which she had sex with a guy, though. Two hours later, while she was alone in her house watching a pan of pasta bubble, she closed her eyes and saw him there, the dark, sexy man whose name she didn’t even know.  

What she did know, though? He’d be back.  

#ez reyes #ez reyes fanfiction #ez reyes smut #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes x ofc #ez reyes fanfic #ez reyes fic #ezekiel reyes fanfiction #ezekiel reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes smut #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc smut #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

[herarcadewasteland]

Danger Lurks

A/N: There's a significant lack (pretty much none) of Teddy Lobo x Reader from 2023 Renfield and since I'm fulfilling my own Renfield x Reader fics, I'm doing this for those hoomans who also wanted this but couldn't find it. (Such a good movie btw I've seen it like 4 times now) Nine google doc pages of this shit-

-Teddy Lobo x Reader

-Mentions of drugs, violence and the likes. Swearing. You're old enough to know what you can handle. This is your warning :) (also sui*ide :/.... it turned darker- sorry if you're triggered. this is your warning again)

TW TW TW TW TW TW TW

_______________________

Teddy Lobo. Yeah. Him. Your boyfriend. The one currently ranting about some guy who killed a bunch of his men in Mulates the previous night. A sigh left you as you sat and listened patiently. It wasn’t like you had meant to get involved with a crime family. It just… happened. On a Thursday. A couple years back. It wasn’t worth the mental effort to think on how you had met with each detail in place. So you settled for the simple thought of it all. You were working. He walked in, you smiled at him while everyone looked away. You kept eye contact.

You didn’t look scared, and you didn't know who he was. He took you out a couple times, wined and dined you. Took you places. Treated you right. And then after mind-blowing sex, you met his mother at the breakfast table as she plotted with her son on the next drug deal. There was no out at that point. Plus, Teddy was quite a nice guy… past the killing and cocaine and stuff. So, you stayed. Which landed you here as he continued in disbelief at what had happened to a good number of his men. It wasn’t easy to believe what he told you he saw, but you had to at least try to believe. 

It was a lot easier when he walked up to your chair and landed a kiss on your lips with a pleading expression,

“You have to fucking believe me, Y/N. We’re looking for the fucker right now and when we get him, you’re coming. It’s time you get out there with me. You’ve been staying behind with mother for too long. I’m better with you at my side. You know this, lovely.”

You sighed again and nodded, hands brushing over the stubble on his jaw, 

“I know, Teddy. I’m just worried. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Or anyone else. It’s just not my  thing.”

He sighs in return and pulls you from your chair into a bear hug, his deep breathing calming you against his chest as you snuggled in. His hands stroked over your hair and you hummed while he let out a short chuckle at how cute you were. 

“We’ll have the info by morning. I’ll wake you up an hour before we’re ready to go. There won't be many of us. I’ll keep you safe, lovely.”, his lips pressed against your head and you smiled into his chest, “Now go get some rest. I want you not to be groggy when we go get this dickhead. You’ll need to be alert.”

“Ok. Goodnight Teddy.”

“Goodnight lovely.”

He spun you out of his arms towards the stairs. You giggled and walked up them to the left towards your now shared room with Teddy. You could feel his gaze on you as you walked above him past the railings blocking the fairly large fall. Looking back at him, you smiled. He smiled back with love in his gaze. You felt it too. The love. You loved him. Unfortunately for you, Teddy felt a nagging in the back of his head about the upcoming events. And he didn’t like it one bit. 

—--

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. It was normal, but it felt wrong today. The day just felt wrong. It made your eyes water as Teddy walked into the room looking down at a tablet as he grabbed a suit jacket from the closet. 

“Teddy?”

He visibly jumped at your voice, his eyes searching you out immediately and noting the tears in your eyes. His panic was next. He hated it when you cried. All he wanted was for you to be happy around him and for you to be crying so openly, it was new. Off putting even. Especially for Teddy.

“Love? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Tell me what’s wrong.”

He rushed to the bed and held your trembling hands in his steady large ones as you looked at him sadly. Just shaking your head, you took your hands from his as he scanned you constantly for any visible wound. 

“N-No I’m…”, your voice cracked and you took a steadying breath, holding Teddy’s hands again to calm him as well as yourself, “I’m okay. Just… today feels wrong. Maybe it’s just one of those days but something feels different and I’m scared. What if the feeling is right, Teddy? I don’t want anything to happen to you… to us… to anyone.”

His grip tightened on your hands as you spoke, his eyes softening further as he watched the tears make a path down your flushed face. You sighed shakily and watched him watch you. It was simple. But it calms you down enough to take a deep breath, loosen your hold on his poor hands and kiss him gently. The kiss was… as it always is, wonderful. His lips cushioned yours in the best way that you never thought possible before kissing Teddy Lobo. It took over the fear as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, a small groan leaving him as you parted from the kiss. 

“No no, come back. You should stay with me like that forever.”, he falls back onto the bed dramatically, his hand on his forehead as you giggle. “It’s heaven on earth. You can’t take that from me!”

You laugh loudly as you crawl on top of him, his hands resting on your hips as you place kisses around his face, “We have somewhere to be, don’t we? Maybe later, pony boy.”

You wheeze at the confused and nearly offended look on his face as you scramble from the bed, gathering your most Lobo coded outfit from the closet to rush into the ensuite bathroom and change before Teddy could fully recover and get you back with many, many tickles. His huffs reached your ears from the other side of the door as you tugged on the red leather jacket you had gotten for your birthday from Teddy a year back when he first asked you to go public with him. Properly. 

Finishing the outfit with a spray of your favourite perfume, you step back into the bedroom to see Teddy waiting for you on the bed, his eyes trained on you immediately. A whistle filled the room as he clapped you into the room, his applause guiding your steps subconsciously. Placing your hands on his shoulders when you reached him, you played with hair at the nape of his neck, his smirk making you smile shyly as he looked you up and down a few times. 

“Bout fucking time I see you wear this for me. Let’s make it count, lovely. Mother sent word for us to head down. The boys are ready. We have his location.”

You nodded with a sigh and pecked his lips, stepping towards the door and shaking off your hands. You were nervous. Sure you felt a little better but that feeling, that bad one, was still present and somehow got stronger as you loaded into the van with Teddy and a few of the Lobo troops. The drive was longer than you thought but also shorter than a trip to the costco somehow. You forgot to question it all as you pulled up to the very clearly abandoned hospital, pieces of the roof hanging off, boarded windows, broken windows, graffiti. It all screamed sketchy and abandoned. But Teddy was determined. So when he saw your hesitance standing in front of the tall building, he sighed and pulled you into his side with a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“Just stay close. I’ve got you.”

You nodded not trusting your voice the moment you stepped into the building. The air was suffocating. Heavy. Musty. Definitely smelled like a place many people died in. That feeling you had increased ten-fold as you continued down the falling hallway, the roof and pipes clanging together and causing a few of the men to hit their heads on the way. Off-handed comments were made along the walk to find something, anything that indicated life, that the place must be haunted. The men made the typical ghost noises as they walked before stopping abruptly in what you assumed to be the reception or waiting room. It was open, large. Echoey. And you hated it more than the man who thought it would be funny to scare you into Teddy’s strong arms. You stayed away from that man for the rest of the walk. But now, standing in the entryway with Teddy as he spewed profanities, you wanted all the knowledge you were surrounded by capable people. 

Glancing around and purposefully avoiding the hundreds of suspended blood bags, you counted each of the men with growing relief that there was no one else. You looked up at Teddy with worried eyes, his own angry ones softening at your fear. HIs large hand rubbed comforting circles into your back as he led you forward to search for this Renfield guy. He called out to his men once you reached a very rank smelling room, the flies making you cringe away from the room while Teddy looked inside.

“Ronnie, call my fucking mom. RIGHT NOW.”

His voice echoed as he shielded your eyes, walking back into the open space, his mom’s voice sounding from a discarded phone that you couldn’t see until Teddy dropped his hand from your eyes to pick it up and freak out. You glanced around again, the feeling back in stronger waves as Teddy grabbed your hand again, your own trembling in his grasp as he talked with his mom before a whooshing met your ears and you both glanced around in panic. 

“Teddy- I don’t like this… Let’s just go.”, your frantic eyes met his and he frowned at the pure fear in your eyes before he glanced at something over your shoulder and froze. “Please, I don’t want to be here anymore. Can we find this Renfield guy another day? Baby...?”

Your pleading fell on deaf ears as he stared over your shoulder with a rapidly paling face. You froze in turn, hearing a dark chuckle over your shoulder. Your first instinct was to step further into Teddy, his arms wrapping around you as you slowly turned in his hold to see what caused him that much fear. Meeting the eyes of the man, you gasped. His lips curled in a smile, his pointed teeth clenched together as he watched you. You let out a shaky breath and tugged at Teddy’s arms to tell him to get you the fuck out of there. Teddy being Teddy guided you closer instead, your body falling further back into his solid frame as you were now at least a foot away from the strange man in a bedazzled suit blazer. 

Teddy’s hand reached out holding his phone, pure confidence on his face until the man took the gap in security to dart a hand out with inhuman speed and grab you from Teddy’s hold, pulling you into his chest with a hand on your neck. You whimpered at his hold, eyes wide as you stared at Teddy, who waved his hands in panic, repeating “Woah” in an attempt at subduing the hold this man had on you. 

“Look, we don’t want any trouble-”

“Who are you? You were sent by the church?”, his last word was dragged out with disgust and contempt. 

“I’m a criminal! My organization is all about evil! We’re evil, okay?!”

“Why are you here?!”, the pale man growled as he jerked you back against him. 

“We’re looking for this guy! I’m tryna find this guy! He meddled in our business and killed a bunch of our guys tryna save a bunch of innocent people.”

The phone held out in front of you showed the man, Renfield. The man holding you growled and tightened his hold on your neck, your own hands grasping at his pale appendage as you gasped at the increased pressure. You didn’t move more than that, too afraid of the claw-like nails on the man's hand to move more than you already dared. Teddy watched you carefully as the man laughed maniacally. The panic in Teddy was clear as he took an almost threatening step forward.

“Do you know who I am?! Who she is?!”

 The guy holding you in a death grip tilted his head in confusion, a nearly mocking “Hmm?”, vibrating your back with his voice.

“I’m Teddy fucking Lobo and that’s my girlfriend!” 

The strange man chuckled and lifted you above him after turning you to face him, his eyes meeting your widened ones as your legs kicked in the air, the lack of ground frightening you enough to struggle in his hold despite the claws so close to your neck.

“I am Count Dracula.”, the man's smile was back as he somehow lifted you higher, your face turning slightly red as you shook your head. 

“You win!”, Teddy shouted as he watched you turn your head to look down at him, the desperation in his eyes so clear to you as the man who claimed he was Dracula brought you down enough to make eye contact with you directly.

“He is my servant.”, Dracula growled as you trembled in his hand, lips parted to take in more air than you could through your nose. Dracula’s eyes focused on the phone again, Teddy’s other hand shaking by his side.

“He doesn’t seem to be serving you very well.”, Teddy chuckled hesitantly as you glared back at him the best you could. 

Dracula’s clawed hand set you on the ground, your back to his chest in a split second as Teddy stepped forward again. Your hands shook as you gripped the arm around your neck again, Dracula’s maniacal, almost hysterical laugh filling your head as you stared down Teddy with a mounting anger. The man's free hand shot out to grab the phone, the looped video of Renfield being stopped as the phone was crushed in his hand like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. You winced, pushing yourself against Dracula in fear before you realized and tried to move forwards, out of his harsh hold. Your attempt failed as Dracula grabbed you again and held you still against him forcefully, your forearm exposed as he twisted your arm around under his hold to drag a claw down the vein. You whimpered and shook, Teddy panicking further and reaching out to you with his shaking hands. 

“Wait, no, no, no, no!”

“This crime family of yours, would it enjoy witnessing the beheading of it’s enemies and the impalement of all who oppose it?”, Dracula's claw traced up and down the vein in your arm, your hand shaking violently at the base of it. 

One cut into it lengthwise and you would bleed out in 2 hours max. A horizontal cut would take multiple and even deeper ones, he would have to cut your vein clean in half to get you dead in that same time frame. It was still a frightening situation, having experienced his strength. The blood around his mouth and dripping down his chin didn’t help your fear. 

“That's like- that’s like our w-whole thing, man.”, Teddy’s voice trembled as he tried to get you free from the man's hold without causing a fight or pain to you.  

“And can the family raise me soldiers?”, Draculas’ tone was curious now, his claw stilling just above your wrist.

“We can… I can make a couple calls, yeah.”, Teddy almost had a smile on his face now from the turn the whole situation took. 

“Whatever pain Renfield caused you, I will return 10, 000 fold.”, he said in a rumble, his claw returning to its original path with a small detour of your neck. “I will unleash an army of death whilst warming my skin next to mountains of burning corpses.” 

The tone of his voice turned whimsical, like he was day-dreaming of the scenario. Teddy watched in concern and growing excitement that this guy seemed to want to hurt this Renfield guy as much as the Lobo’s. 

“How does that sound to you?”, Dracula finished his speech while turning his fanged smile into your neck, his tongue tracing over your pulse point while he made eye contact with your lover. 

Teddy took a steadying breath and released it with a groaned sigh, “It sounds… like you gotta meet my mom.”

You groaned as Dracula burst out laughing a few seconds later. Teddy laughed quietly with him, his eyes focused on you the whole time while you trembled. Dracula’s pure evil laughter got louder and Teddy nearly retreated in fear as he laughed a little more openly, concern growing at the rate the laughter from the other man was. 

“Are you happy or are you gonna fuck us up?”, Teddy’s smile died as he spoke, Dracula laughing still.

His claw made a small cut on your arm as he reached out to Teddy who screamed as his laughter turned into an almost screamed laugh, Teddy’s scream turning into slight laughter as Dracula continued laughing with a hand now on your boyfriend's shoulder. You hissed at the residual sting, sliding from Dracula’s body to Teddy’s side as they laughed continuously until Dracula went stock still. His eyes were staring you down as you hid behind Teddy. You froze your tugging at Teddy’s sleeve in response, his eyes flashing with something before he ended up behind you both, hand trailing over your shoulder before he spun you and grabbed the arm he had sliced. You froze further somehow as he gazed into your eyes with an intensity while Teddy watched in disbelief as his tongue snaked out of his mouth to lick the small trail of blood from your arm. 

“Can you not do that, man? She’s still my girl. You’re scaring her.”

Dracula met Teddy’s eyes with a growl as he dropped your arm, stepping back with a new expression of politeness. Almost like he had been conveniently forgetting that you were in a relationship with the same man who screamed moments before at a hand movement. He knew what he was doing though, he had too. He seemed too self aware to not know exactly what he was doing as he eye-fucked you while you cowered into your lovers body again. 

“My apologies.”, He spoke with reverence that you could tell was a cover, but Teddy accepted it with a simple nod, leading you around the guy with a hand on your back and shoulder.

“We’ll be back in a few moments, we need to gather some more men to bring you to my mom.”

Dracula nodded and watched you go as you looked back at him one last time, hand rubbing over the small laceration he had made on your delicate skin. 

—--- 

It was days later when this Renfield guy burst through the doors, Teddy’s mom standing beside you, her son on your other side, his hands crossed over his chest. 

“Must be nice not having to be invited in.”

You blocked out the conversation from there, watching as the officer’s eyes scanned you with blatant interest, the conversation clearly shifting towards you as everyone looked your way.

“She’s merely a bystander. No harm has to come to her.”

Teddy’s voice had rung across the front room clearly, the two on the ground floor looking at you with increased interest as you shuffled behind Teddy to hide yourself from their searching gazes. Tugging at your newly acquired fiance's sleeve, you mumbled in his ear that you didn’t want to be out front with him, requesting that you go into the back with his mother. He refused, insisting that he could keep you safer while you were with him. You agreed reluctantly and grasped him by the waist as the conversation continued. You felt a pair of eyes on you the entire time but shrugged it off as a few men jumped the railing with increasing dramatics to fight this Renfield guy who now shared powers with a handful of the Lobo men. 

The fight went quickly, Teddy realizing quickly that he may be better off sitting behind the scenes with his mother. You both jogged to the door before you heard a voice calling out to you both. Officer Quincy. You shook your head as you both turned, Teddy pulling his gold pistols from his pants in a threat. Hands reaching up to pull his arms down, you stepped in front of him to stop him. Muttering at him, you sighed. He was stubborn, you knew that but for him to be this stubborn at that particular moment irked you. So you reacted. Grabbing his guns from his hands, you saw his eyes narrow at you. Before you could think on it more, you turned to the railing and leapt over the edge, running for the door as he called after you in urgency.

Nothing stopped you as you booked it for the doors, Renfield’s carnage doing nothing to stop you as you nearly made it to the door before Teddy reached you. His hands grasped your arms as you panicked, hands trembling as his golden eyes looked into your own coloured ones. Dropping the guns, you burst into tears, hiding your face in his chest as his hands rubbed up and down your back to calm you.

“Hey, hey. Look, it’ll be okay. I promise. Let’s get you upstairs to mother and we’ll see each other soon, I promise. I won’t let you get hurt.”

You sighed, wiping your tears with shaky hands as he picked you up, carrying you through everything calmly, the destruction avoiding you narrowly as Renfield downed the last man. You tapped Teddy’s shoulder frantically as you noticed his advance, the cop approaching from the opposite direction as your tapping got more panicked. Teddy noticed quickly, his hands gripping you tighter despite setting you on the ground.

Being exposed more for any attack, you stood still with your back pressed against the chest that had been pressed against yours the night before. The officer quickly approached, Teddy acting quickly and snorting the centipede that had been crawling up and down his arm without you noticing. You cringed away from the sight, Teddy’s eyes flashing gold again as he gently pushed you to the side before he lunged at the officer. That left you completely exposed. 

Renfield took advantage of the situation and pulled you into his hold like his master had done a night or so before. In a few moments, Renfield had you held on the balcony above, arm crossed over your throat as Teddy and the officer fought. It didn’t take long for Teddy to notice, his distraction enough for the officer to pull the shotgun on him and shoot him down. You gasped and fought the hold on you, your eyes stuck on your lover’s as he fell to his knees, bloodied wounds decorating his tattooed chest while you watched, unable to do anything but cry. Renfield took pity on you and let you go, your fist meeting his face before you raced past the murderer of your fiance to the man himself. 

“Teddy! No, no, no no no nonono. You can’t leave me! We were gonna be together forever…”

His pained chuckle met your ears as tears fell from your pained eyes. 

“Don’t you know who I am? I’m Teddy fucking Lobo and I’ll always be with you, lovely.”

Your head shook as you pressed frantically on his wounds, eyes scanning his face continuously as he just watched you, a single tear tracking down his face and meeting the small puddle of yours on the floor beneath him. You chuckled roughly, of course he would say that while dying. Footsteps drew your attention momentarily, the culprits sprinting to get to Dracula while you sat with the love of your life and talked him into the afterlife. You’d meet him there one day. You just hoped it would be sooner… seeing his pistols out of the corner of your eye, you nodded. You’d be with him soon. 

As you held his pistol to your head, you laughed in pain,

“Teddy fucking Lobo... I’ll see you soon, baby.”

-------

A/N: oh man im sorry it got dark :/ if i missed any words im so sorry but hopefully it made some sense. kinda my own take with a few direct quotes from scenes.

#herarcadewasteland #reader insert #fanfiction #basically gn!reader #renfield 2023 #renfield #renfield movie #teddy lobo #teddy lobo x reader #reader x renfield #renfield 2023 fanfic #renfield ff #tw murder #tw death #tw sui implied #renfield lowkey an ass

[nekoannie-chan]

Mentiroso

Título: Mentiroso

Fandom: Marvel, Capitán América.

Pareja: Jack Rollins X Lectora agente de S.H.I.E.L.D.

Clasificación: B.

Palabras: 231 palabras.

Advertencias: Mentiras, traición.

Sinopsis: Jack siempre bromeaba acerca de ser parte de HYDRA.

N/A:  Esta es mi entrada para Multifandom Flash Round 2, Annie-4009, cuadro 5:

"Pedro y el lobo".

También puedes leerlo en Wattpad y Ao3.

         Si te gusto por favor vota, comenta y rebloguea.

No doy ningún permiso para que mis fics sean publicados en otra plataforma o idioma (yo traduzco mi propio trabajo) o el uso de mis gráficos (mis separadores de texto también están incluidos), los cuales hice exclusivamente para mis fics, por favor respeta mi trabajo y no lo robes. Aquí en la plataforma hay personas que hacen separadores de texto para que cualquiera los pueda usar, los míos no son públicos, por favor busca los de dichas personas. La única excepción serían los regalos que he hecho ya que ahora pertenecen a alguien más. Si encuentras alguno de mis trabajos en una plataforma diferente y no es alguna de mis cuentas, por favor avísame. Los reblogs y comentarios están bien.

DISCLAIMER: Los personajes de Marvel no me pertenecen (desafortunadamente), exceptuando por los personajes originales y la historia.

Anótate en mi taglist aquí.

Otros lugares donde publico: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @black23 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @azulatodoryuga

Tú eras la única que conocía el otro lado de Jack, lo cual hizo que te enamoraste de él. A tu parecer Jack tenía una fascinación peculiar por las historias de espías y organizaciones secretas. Siempre bromeaba contigo, diciendo que era parte de HYDRA. Tú siempre te reías ante sus ocurrencias, porque no había ninguna posibilidad de que fuese realidad, todos sabían que el Capitán América había terminado con dicha organización.

Hasta que algo inusual y diferente ocurrió en uno de tus días libres, mientras tú disfrutando de su almuerzo en el parque cerca de la biblioteca. En las pantallas gigantes de la ciudad, aparecieron imágenes del caos y destrucción en el Triskelion.

Intentaste comunicarte con Jack, pero no tuviste éxito, debías de llegar de alguna manera al Triskelion, tal vez Jack estaba herido…

Saliste corriendo, probablemente los caminos estarían cerrados, pero hallarías la forma de llegar a tu lugar de trabajo. La gente corría asustada por las calles mientras los esquivabas, el primer objetivo era llegar a tu automóvil.

Como lo suponías, no lograste llegar, no obstante, otros agentes de S.H.I.E.L.D. te detuvieron e interrogaron debido a tu relación con Jack.

Días después, te enteraste de que Jack había sido enviado al Raft, a pesar de todo deseabas alguna explicación, así que intentaste que te permitieran verlo, lo interrogarías hasta que te dijera la verdad, pero ni siquiera pudiste entrar.

#multifandom flash #round 2 #Jack Rollins X lectora

[deepfried-dildos-again]

a little embarrassed to ask for this one but can i get some more comfort lobo?? maybe him trying to calm you down after you start thinking hes cheating cause he stopped seeing you as much as he did before?? and if you do decide to do this one could you just copy paste the ask i have too many ppl that know me on this account 😭 tysm still love how you write lobo

I have got you you don't even have to trip.

Content warnings: It's like pg-15 the whole fic, references to cheating, domestic disturbance ig? You yell at him

That. Son. Of. A. Bastich. You hated him. You really did. Oh yeah, sure, it would be a SUPER great idea to catch feelings for possibly the most well known flake in the universe. It would be a FANTASTIC idea to actually believe him when he said he had feelings for you, too. And it would just take the proverbial CAKE if he was cheating on you.

Sure you didn't have concrete proof, but the long bounty trips, the vauge air of coldness, and his very NATURE were the giveaways you needed. So you were leaving. If he cared enough to go after you, you'd chew him out and turn him in. If he didn't, it was whatever.

There was a "Dear John" letter to consider, however. You still cared about him enough to tell him WHY you were gone. But the words just wouldn't come to you. That was probably what gave him the time to come inside before you left and sneak up behind you.

"Whatcha writin'?"

You jumped, dropping your pen on the desk and standing to get up. Your surprise in turn surprised him, and he raised his arms in a gesture of peace.

"Woah, babe, didn't mean ta spook ya. Thought you heard me come in."

Still shocked, your mouth twitched to form words, but none came. That amused him.

"What, writin' a letter ta yer secret side piece? How come ya never do that romantic crap ta me?"

That was the kicker. He accused YOU of cheating? While he was the one actually DOING IT? It didn't even register to you as a joke, and you lost it.

"Oh you WOULD. GOD I cannot believe I ever- you- you-"

"Hey, what's-"

"DO NOT HEY WHAT'S ME, YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT'S WHAT."

"..."

"Answer me!"

He furrowed his brow, and you saw his pupils dilate as he thought. So it was multiple people.

"The girl!"

"The huh?"

"The girl or guy or whoever it is you're fragging cheating on me with!"

"What- babe."

"DON'T BABE ME!"

"Ok, ok, no babe. But will ya listen ta me?"

"Oh, yeah, listen to you weasel out of any consequences I might give you, I hate you so MUCH."

"Listen. Ta. Me."

Clenching your fists, gritting your teeth, you tried to push past him.

"Let me by."

"I can't."

"Let me BY."

"No."

"Why?!"

He opened his mouth and looked like he wanted to say something, but then seemed to shrink back from the thought. Instead, he took your hand. Surprising yourself, you let him.

"Just... I can show ya paystubs, tickets, whatever. Just let me tell ya why I'm out so much."

You could hear the slight shake in his breath, but what you couldn't hear was the mantra running through his head:

"Please don't leave me. Please."

You could feel it though, subconsciously but you could feel it. So you let him sit you both down on the couch and continue holding your hand.

"Ok, so, uh. Ya know my kid, yeah? Crush?"

You nodded, remembering his estranged daughter.

"Well, she uh. She got inta some trouble with th' Darcan mob. She's in on the bounty huntin' shit too, jus' goes after live targets, but one'a the guys she grabbed was th' Capo's son."

"So she-"

"Lemme finish. I got wind a their... plans fer her afore she did. She still doesn't know. I made a couple deals with em. Work for em, take down a couple'a their rivals, that kinda shit. Trouble is, they don't pay union rates, so my cashflow decreased. I had ta go after more bounties, outside'a theirs. It's been... 'sbeen a long couple months."

"Why didn't you tell her?"

"We ain't exactly on speakin' terms."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You'd worry."

"Of course I would! You're a hitman for the fragging Darcan mob!"

"Was. I paid off th' debt."

"When?"

"Bout six hours ago."

"Bo... you could've told me."

He looked away from you. He looked... ashamed? Worried? You couldn't exactly tell.

"Lobo, I'm so sorry I yelled at you. I must have sounded totally crazy and-"

"Woah, hey, nah. Y'sounded pretty reasonable. From where yer standin', at least."

"Still..."

He just sighed and leaned back onto the couch.

"Can we... not talk right now? 'M tired."

You nodded, then leaned into him, resting your head on his chest. You could actually feel him relax under you.

"Sorry I made ya worry."

"Tell me next time. I promise the worry I feel while knowing will be less bad than the worry I feel while not knowing."

"Ok. Promise."

#lobo my beloved #lobo x reader #my writing #lobo dc #lobo

[stilesstilinskihale2023]

Capitulo 1.

------------ ..𝐦𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚..-------------✥

Stiles.

Derek Hale.

Un tipo raro..., ¿No?, un tipo rudo, callado, intimidante... todo un gruñon.

Aguafiestas y para nada humorista, de cero carisma y con mirada fulminante que te quita hasta la heterosexualidad de lo ruda que es.

¿Que irónico no?.

Que un tipo sarcástico, torpe pero muy buena onda, simpático, inteligente brillante y guapo como yo...

(Lo anterior dicho no es mentira aunque la creadora lo niegue)

Conozca e interactúe con un ser tan opuesto a él como ése.

En casos diferentes uno diría que Básicamente es una estupidez y una locura o cosas como esa.

Los opuestos se atraen para bien o para mal, y no es mentira.

Pero no lo digo yo, no lo dice la gente, no lo dice Batman ni Robin ni un dios mítico.. lo dice la ciencia.

Negativas + Positivas = equilibrio y estabilidad ¿no?, bueno.

Así somos yo y Derek Hale.

Y si, puede negarlo todo lo que quiera, puede decir que Básicamente es ridículo. Que es solo un conocido de por ahí.

Que soy irritante, molesto, parlanchín, jodon, un crio irresponsable.

Pero aún así yo creo que el me quiere.

¿Porque?, bueno... no sé, quizá solo son mis estúpidas esperanzas de llevarme bien con alguien que no quiere verme ni pintado en mural.

O quizá mí inmadurez.

O quizá es solo porque... me gusta... .

Me gusta, no se porque pero... me gusta mucho.

Me gusta que me mire... me gusta que esté cerca, me gusta que me hable.. .

Me gusta... me gusta... .

Me gusta mirarlo... con el hacer las cosas que no hace con nadie..., ya sea charlar.. o simplemente oirlo quejarse de cualquier forma.

No sé.. pero es lindo cuando lo hace.

Verlo regañarme por cosas como no lavar el Jeep o conducirlo en sí.

Supongo que mí paciencia con sus enojos es una virtud, así como mí habilidad para hacerlo enfadarse o meterme en problemas.

Pero me gusta.

El se parece mucho al cielo, suena ridículo pero... .

Sus ojitos verdes... ESOS PUTOS OJOS VERDES..., son más hermosos que las estrellas.

Su sonrisa... aunque no sonrie a menudo.., las pocas veces que lo vi... ya sea por Nervios o ironía de tenerme cerca.. .

Esas veces... me hicieron ver qué Derek tiene una sonrisa preciosa y dulce.

El se parece mucho al cielo, si, pero se enfada como el infierno.

Es bruto, de mal genio al dejarse llevar por la ira, pero es encantador verlo ser un bruto idiota impulsivo.

Hasta gracioso.

Pero aún así Derek es un

lobo peligroso.

De ira inhumana.

Lo sé, y se que me mataria por ser tan insoportable aveces.

Pero así como se que me mataria sé que me quiere.

Porque hasta ahora no lo ha hecho.

Por eso yo sé que me quiere.

Y me gusta... por eso y miles de cosas más... Derek Hale me gusta.

//Fin del capítulo 1.//

°•~━━✥ Espero Les Haya Gustado, Comenten Si Gustan Y Bueno Hasta La Próxima. ✥━━~•°

I'm belive in

✨Sterek SUPREMASY✨🛐 »»»

//nombre del fic: Nunca pasará. (Sterek fic)

//Autor/a: loananahirvarelaespi. (Osea yo)

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Persephone and Hades (an Icebound slighter return)

CW: Once again mentions of patricide and femicide with an added side of childhood trauma. We're going there folks

This is a follow up to my last fic of a fic that features Blaidd and the Tarnished finding some peace in the afterlife, I don't know how much of this fits with the narrative of the icebound stars ending of UC, but I couldn't stand leaving two friends in bad terms. Especially after Lobo wished for them to reconcile.

For the correct experience, play this while reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pDcfRRpe4&ab_channel=Ivarov23

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

You are sitting by a cliff overlooking the sea. The sunset plays across the waves and the sound of them reaches your ears. The seagulls cry, and night might be approaching. You don’t mind the dark so you don’t move. Your ears pick up on someone approaching, but you don’t turn around.

“Excuse me, may I sit next to you?”

The voice says, you gesture to the spot beside you, not taking your eyes away from the dimming sunlight. From the corner of your eye you make out the vague figure of your new companion, they’re a human from what you could tell, a woman most likely if the voice was anything to go by. She sits in silence beside you, basking in the sunset. You stay like this for a while before the woman breaks the silence “Would you mind… if I ask some questions?” she says pulling something out of her bag. You turn to look at her, she’s wearing a large straw hat that hides her face as she opens a notebook into her lap. How strange. “Go ahead, ask away.” you tell her, returning to the sunset in front of you. Without looking up from her notebook she asks “What’s your name and how did you end up here?” and you ponder the question for a moment. You’re about to tell her to be more specific before it hits you.

Your name is Blaidd the Half-Wolf and you were killed. Your son… killed you.

You don’t react at first, obviously, you are dead, you remember it happening, but if you’re dead then what is this? “I’m… Blaidd, and I died… I think” you tell her, she doesn’t seem phased by your answer as she jolts something down “Why… why am I here?” you say, and she stops her writing “...this isn’t the afterlife just yet… I wanted to ask you some questions first… before you go…” she continues, never looking up from her notebook. You try to relax, if you met your end then there’s not much else to do, it’s strange but you’ll have to go along with this woman. “...ask away then” you say once more, she continues in silence for a moment before stopping once more “I want you to tell me, what happened with her and why did her child bring you to your demise?” her pen tapped into the page, you’d never seen one so compact before.

You focused on the sunset again. It hurts to look at her. You figured she might ask you something like that. The truth is long and complicated, but you’re dead, so you have enough time to tell it. “We were in love once, I wanted to be with her forever, I wanted to be her’s forever. She… she was second only to my mistress, but…”  it’s hard to say it, she betrayed your and your mistress' trust, she betrayed you. So then why did it hurt so much to think of the happy times you had together? You continue when the sound of her pen stops “I trusted her… I warned her that I could never go against lady Ranni’s wishes, but she tried to stop her fate anyway.” you swallow, your mouth feels dry and your hands are clammy “I… I told her I would hunt her down, that she should give our children up for adoption, or else they would never have a normal life” you chuckle, but it’s without any joy “I should’ve known she wouldn’t listen.” her pen stops, you stay quiet while she ponders your words “A bit cruel of you, don’t you think?” you nod. It was, you were hoping at every word that she would go back on her choice, that she would hand you the Fingerslayer, that she wouldn’t force you to become enemies. She never did, not even when…

“Please continue” the woman tired of your silence, you obliged, you’d have to relive that moment eventually “I was upset, she said she wanted to protect me, she was convinced that Ranni’s fate would mean sacrificing my life, but it’s my duty as her shadow, if I must give my life for my master then so be it, even if…” it dies in your throat, the heresy you’re about to say burns a hole in it, ‘even if my heart wishes it were otherwise’ is what you mean to say. The woman nods, but you doubt she understands “So, what happened after that?” she motions with her hand for you to continue “I… I gave her five years so she may have them, then I started looking for them. It didn’t take long, at first I hoped that she might’ve changed her mind, that she’d forgotten her love for me and handed the blade over, I would’ve left her be, truly I would have, the betrayal I felt… it still wasn’t enough to push me into it… into the ‘cruelty’ I promised, because…” you stop yourself, but the woman doesn’t let you off the hook “because…?” she asks in that calm, uncaring tone of hers. You breathe in deeply “Because I still… I still remembered her as she was in that time we spent together, I couldn’t bring myself to believe she would betray me. When she said she wanted to protect me, I knew she was telling the truth, that’s how she is, that’s why I couldn’t do it” there’s a burning sensation in your throat, a lump you simply can’t swallow. The woman ignores you, jolting something down again, turning the page to begin filling that one too “...Continue with your story” her voice clinical and cold, compared to yours on the verge of breaking. You continue, looking at the sun as it lowers further under the horizon “I figured so long as I got the blade I could leave them alone, forget about them, let them forget about me. I stalked them, trying to find a way into her spectral storage. I watched as our children grew, oblivious to my presence. I was tormented by thoughts of regret, and heresy for I couldn’t turn my back on Ranni’s wishes, but my mind couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like to be a part of their family. I couldn’t forgive, no matter how much it tormented me I couldn’t, I had to…” You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat again “...I had to be done with it, I couldn’t handle the pain anymore. I thought it was my chance when I saw the littlest one with the uneven walk take the blade out of the chest, I thought that so long as I was discreet about it the child would simply hand it over” you touch your chest where the black blade struck you last “What a fool I was…”

The woman pulls a page out of the notebook, crumpling and tossing it to the side, before writing down something else, she motions you to continue with her hand. You steady your breathing again, this is the worst part of your tale “...he was scared, I tried comforting him, I tried asking nicely, but I couldn’t keep myself in check, those scared little eyes were the same color as mine. He screamed even though I tried to keep him quiet, he called for her help… that’s when things took a turn for the worse” the sun had not moved from its position, a moment suspended in time. You tried to ignore the burning sensation in your eyes “She put herself before him, sword in hand, she thought I would hurt the child. I warned her that she must return the blade, or I would do good on my word, she said that the blade could never be Lady Ranni’s now and that it had chosen someone else to wield it. I got… I got angry, and we fought” you hated re-living this part, but you had to get through it “Even then I could tell she was pulling her punches… her swings had no killing intent even though she could never truly kill me, I… I wish I had been the same…” there’s something wet in your lap, but you don’t look down, you keep the tears down as best as you can, but it’s a losing battle “I struck her down, and she grabbed me before she passed, grabbed my face like she used to. She asked me… she asked that I look after them… and that I tell them she’s sorry for not being able to protect them. I thought her a fool, for surely she would rise again… surely…” you know she didn’t, you waited and waited and waited, it was only once her body started to decompose that you had to accept she wouldn’t come back. It still hurts, you tried everything, you pleaded with her lifeless corpse she come back to you, you thought of asking someone, anyone who could bring her back, but no such person existed in the Lands Between. On your last day you still couldn’t sleep well, for you kept imagining her weight atop of you, your mind still brought back her scent every time. You started bathing more often, but nothing would get rid of the feeling of blood on your fur, of her hands cradling your face, to her dying breath she loved you, and you couldn’t do anything to save her.

All because you could never forgive.

“He saw me strike her down, the littlest one whose eyes were filled with fear, he was hiding, worried for his mother’s sake, and that’s why when I returned to the camp they were gone and so was the blade.” You almost growl at the memory. How on earth did a group of children, one of which had trouble walking, escape you? “I followed their scents, but I could never find them. Days would pass and I would have to report every time back to Ranni that I couldn’t find them or the blade, she chastised me for letting a bunch of children make a fool out of me.” She’d said some harsher things too, like if you were planning on slaughtering them when you find them or if they would outwit you again, that… that hurt more than you could say to her face. You look down at your hands. You remember the way you screamed their names in the woods, even years after you’d looked for them, dead or alive you wanted to find them, you kept up with any and all stories of wolf children you could find, you followed every lead no matter how small, but you never found them until one of them found you. The Fingerslayer blade would become no more than a second thought, as you spiraled in on yourself you wondered if maybe you should fully commit to being a traitor. If it truly had chosen another master you should let the child keep it then. You already betrayed one woman you loved, it was only your nature as a shadow that prevented you from betraying the other.

The woman stops her writing again “Then, one of them came back for revenge, right?” you nod, the littlest one whose eyes were filled with hate and grief, he’d called you a traitor and came to seek justice for what you took from him. You wanted to say something. You wanted to explain why you’d done what you’d done. You wanted his forgiveness even though you knew you didn’t deserve it, but his eyes told you his mind was made up, and words would do no good. “I’d never seen anyone fight like that” you wipe the tears in your eyes “I thought it might’ve been a mistake, the child could barely move without falling, and yet here he was using his strange way of moving to attack out of nowhere. I…” you falter. What you were about to say was more than heresy, it was going against your master’s wishes, but you had to say it “...I-I couldn’t make the same mistake again, what I did to his mother, even though that would mean losing the Fingerslayer Blade forever. I couldn’t bring myself to do it again, her hands… I could feel hers on mine as we fought, her memory dulled my swings, I… I just couldn’t do it!” and in the end, you lost your life, and ended up here. “I wanted… I wanted him to know how I felt… I wanted him to avoid becoming like me, someone who couldn’t forgive until it was too late. I ruined his life, but I needed him to know” the knot in your throat was almost enough to stop you from breathing, but you managed to stave off the tears, just barely. “In the end, I couldn’t help anyone. The age of stars will never come, my own flesh and blood grew to hate me, I lost the one person who loved me above even her own safety. I-I’m the scum of the earth! Whatever exists to punish people like me, will surely-”

“Shut up, don’t speak about yourself like that!” the woman says. You turn to look at her, your eyes widen and your jaw drops, you feel dumbfounded at the sight of her. “It- It’s you! b-but how?” You exclaim, stupidly, obviously it’s her and you know how, she’s dead too after all.

Her straw hat and notebook were discarded by her side, her eyes puffy and red from crying. She stares at you, through you, to your core “I was supposed to keep things impersonal, that’s why I disguised myself, but I couldn’t sit here and let you badmouth yourself like that!” she grabs your hand, it feels the same as it did back then “You’re still the one I fell in love with, even after everything that hasn’t changed. You’re not scum, not in any sense of the word!” the tears flow from your eyes again, you don’t care “I-I don’t understand, I killed you! I ruined everything! If I had trusted you, maybe… maybe there was something we could’ve done together, but I just couldn't get over myself! If that’s not scum then… I don’t know what else to call someone like me!” you scream, everything you’ve wanted to say since that fateful day is pulled out of you, you no longer have the presence of mind to care about how it comes out. You’re dead anyway, who’s left to judge you?

She cups your face, it’s comforting and surreal to feel her warmth on you again outside of your nightmares, how it was always meant to feel “Listen to me, It-it’s my fault too. I should’ve trusted you, I knew your loyalty would always be with Ranni and that I could never ask you to stray from her, but I was afraid of losing you, and I should’ve been honest with you about that from the beginning” you see her throat bob as he swallows, this is probably the first time you haven’t found that arousing “At the time I told myself that between having you hate me and having you die, it would be better for you to hate me. At least then, I wouldn’t lose you forever, but now I realize that I should’ve trusted you with the truth, with my fear, so we could’ve found a way however impossible. So… if you’re gonna call anyone scum, it should be me, not you!” you’re both crying, and the sun has still not set. You pull her into your embrace. You’ve both been idiots, though this isn’t the first time it’s happened. It’s a long time before either of you says anything, but you want to make something clear to her “I… I apologize… f-for everything, for k- for attacking you, and I wish I could take it all back. I don’t care anymore about that stupid blade, if it’s chosen a new master then there’s nothing that I can do, as much as it pains me that Ranni’s wish will never come to fruition.” you’re dead, your heresy no longer holds meaning, so you say it openly. She hugs you tighter, her weight on you no longer feels crushing, it’s comforting instead, as it was always meant to be “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I took everything from you. I shouldn’t have chosen your fate for you, you’re more than capable of choosing things for yourself. I hope you can forgive me.” you put your nose to her head, and she giggles as you take in her scent once more “I already did” you whisper. You could never truly forgive, not in life anyway, not yourself, not her, not your son, but once it came to an end you did.

Forgiveness is the final form of love, after all.

[arcy-lethra]

No soy una gran buscadora, pero estuve navegando en google y últimamente estoy pegada al tema del omegaverso (gracias a otro ship) y dije: oh, quiero leer touken en omegaverso, ¿¿Y RESULTA QUE NO HAY?? Juro que busqué, incluso en inglés, pero al final no encotré nada y yo decepcionada casi llorando hasta que me propuse manos a la obra para revertir esa situación. Y sí, aquí me tengo, escribiendo un fic por puro despecho emocional xd

El punto es que más allá del omegaverso, me encantan los lobos y necesitaba a Kaneki lobo y luego apareció una imagen salvaje de Kaneki quimera en mi pantalla y dije: ¡esta es la señal! Estoy divagando demasiado, pero el punto es que Kaneki y Touka lobos son geniales de imaginar. Mis esposos necesitan brillar de todas las formas posibles y si no hay contenido sobre ellos, haré lo posible para crearlo yo.

#mis quejas

[joannasteez]

Hey lovely! Could I request a little something for Jax? It could be a headcanon or imagine, it’s up to you. But could it be about the reader is Angel and Ez’s little sister, and she’s in love with Jax?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 {𝐇.𝐂}

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jax Teller x Reyes!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: The emotional direction wasn’t specified so I kind of just went with what came to me, by the way, This is my very first request!!, so hope whoever sent it in enjoys ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst. Fluff. I also suck at simplifying things so this is another long head canon, apologies if that sort of thing bothers you all lol.

Credits to the gif maker @tragertrap

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @nutterbu @withmyteeth

If you’d like to be tagged for Mayans MC fics ONLY let me know!!

☠︎

It amazed Felipe at times, scared him even, at how similar you looked to your mother Marisol. The spitting image of her; a younger, but slightly taller, reincarnation. But you were your fathers child through and through. The toothless yet warm endearing smile, the sharp intuitiveness, placid nature, and just through the black center of your eyes, enough experience to cover a few lifetimes. It’s what the Reyes men feared the most, that uncanny familial trait that forces you to bury such soul crushing pain, to turn cold to things that warrant warmth. Your father has it, your brothers as well, Ezekiel more than Angel, and so do you.

You had it now, that calm, collected demeanor, as the guys brought in a bleeding Jax Teller through the entry doors of the lodge. He was barely conscious, eyes dim, limbs heavy, and blood staining all along his color drained skin and the aged leather of his kutte. If you were anyone else you’d be alarmed, startled by the amount of blood and frantic men, but you were you, having seen too many things that resembled such a scene to let even a shudder pass through you.

“Get the kit, we need you to sew him up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”, Bishop says briskly, filled with worry, and your feet move faster than your mind can comprehend, snatching the kit laying near by and pacing to the bedroom where they have Jax. His head elevated by pillows, Both Ezekiel and Angel hot on your tail waiting for you to give them directions.

There’s a poorly wrapped cloth that lays against the wound, and just as you peel it back you pressurize the wound with a gauze. “I need gloves”, you say.

Angel’s a bit taken back, the President of the Sons original charter is on the precipice of death and you’re talking about gloves. “We don’t have time for that”.

“Just get the fucking gloves Angel”, you clip. Tone harsher than it’s meant to be, but he takes no offense and moves quick for the gloves before coming back.

You’re cleaning Jax’s skin once there on, wiping away all the blood that pours from him. A needle in your hand, eyes steady. “This is gonna hurt”.

Jax is sweating, teeth clenched at the piercing sting of the needle. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Did he really just ask you that? “I guess we’ll just have to find out”, you deadpan.

“Y/N”, Ezekiel warns.

The situation isn’t funny, a man’s life is on the line but still, you want to laugh at the audacity. “What?! He’s got a bullet in his abdomen and he’s worried about if I know what I’m doing”.

There’s silence now, a heaviness that settles to suffocate the whole lodge it seems. A dread of existential proportions that looms like a phantom in the waning rusted gold of the setting sun. The stillness is calming as you work, slipping the fine needle through his paling skin with a frightening ease that forces a worried look to Ezekiel’s face, Angel’s as well. Mayhem has consumed them all, men who laugh in the face of death everyday are doubling over, overwrought with fear, and here you are, unaware of the dark silhouette that threatens to form over Jax’s body, inching over the walls, creeping slowly as they tease whispers of death through the wispy blow of the wind.

Your brothers leave after while, called out by Bishop and Chibs who are talking over possible scenarios for revenge.

“Can you stay after this......... please?” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s drawled, but you hear the need in his voice.

It compels you to say “Okay”.

When you’re finished you wipe at Jax’s skin again, fingers trembling just the slightest as your mind catches up with your body, or is it the other way around? You’re not sure, but the two have surely had a crashing reunion and now you’re exhausted at such a fast build and fall of adrenaline. You’re thinking now, at the side of the bed, of deeply buried memories because the blood reminds you, it always does. All you see is Marisol, and your vision is blurred, eyes glistening with warm tears that comfort your skin, thumb shaking as you push the wetness away. She’s so lovely in your mind, a bright silhouette framing her and she’s so beautiful, so light and gentle. The aura of her, just from a thought, it makes her presence palpable again, till you remember she isn’t really there. Because it’s just a memory. A timeless mirage of sorts that ungrounds you from reality.

You breath, looking to the clock to find that it’s been three hours already. Three hours of you looking through your memories for your mother, Marisol. It’s purposeful, must be, why the need to think of her is so strong in this moment of all moments.

It’s infuriating, that you weren’t there, you couldn’t save her, but you were here now and you saved Jax. That counts for something right? It had to.

He’s awake again, and you’re not sure how but he is. Must be the force of his will that has his eyes opening, fighting against a sleep that feels too much like forever. “You alright?”

His eyes are a near lifeless blue but still they’ve got shine to them. “I should be asking you that, you’re the one that got shot”.

“Why the tears darlin’ ?”

You’re not up for a personal deep dive, never have been really. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He smiled, noticing your reserved demeanor. “They we’re probably tears for me, I saw how worried you were earlier”, he jokes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Why’d you want me to stay?”

“Didn’t want to die alone, if I did”.

You shake your head, fully convinced of otherwise. “You weren’t gonna die”.

He gives a weak smile. “I know that now since we’re talking, unless this is a dream, or some purgatory shit then I’m screwed”.

You chuckle at his dazed rambling and it makes his weak smile a little stronger as it spreads. Amusement looks good on you. Pretty. “There it is”, he says. Talking about your little smile.

There’s a stretch of silence, and it’s contemplative for Jax. Flashes of the incident from moments prior running through his mind. He’d just met Galindo for the first time, shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries. They’d talked business and at the end all parties seemed happy with the results, but it made him wary. How well everything was going, something somewhere was bound to go wrong, and yeah maybe he was a bit too pessimistic in the moment but it proved him right. The Sons and The Mayans were riding back to the lodge when the Lobos attacked and he can’t remember much after that, just feeling more than alive and then a little ways from death. His father calling him and then his mother, and he almost answered. He’s glad he didn’t.

“I’m sure you know as much as I do, you see a lot of shit when you live this life. Seen more guys than I can count take a bullet, and more times than none I’ve been the one to give it to them”. He’s quiet, contemplative. On the rise of something that resembles an epiphany. “After a while they just become faceless y’know, nameless, just kill #52 on someone’s list. That’s what it felt like, I was about to be on somebody’s fucking list and that shit is scary”. He turns to you then. “And then the next thing I know I’m in here, with your pretty ass standing over me saving my life. I thought I was in heaven”.

You roll your eyes, it’s delirium from the blood loss, making him say things he doesn’t mean. “Even with a bullet wound, flattery gets you no where Teller”.

“Tell me what does”.

———————————————————

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

He’s warm under your skin, heartbeat a sweet song that pulses a quiet steady rhythm into your ears. It’s a comforting thing, soothing and mellow like the fiery cool blend of a setting summer sun.

You feel his hand, cool rings caressing the nape of your neck. “You awake baby?”

You move against him, to let him know that you are and a hand pulls gentle at your chin. “Let me see you darlin’ ”

Your body pulls up atop of his, bare chest moving along his and toward him so that you’re face to face, legs tangled together. His hands reach to caress your face, touch a gentle flame that burns to light your skin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in the morning for weeks, the club stealing him away every moment it could, screwing around with the days you’d set aside to see each other. He grins, loving the dim set of your sleepy eyes. “Hi”.

“Hi”, you say. Tone rasped, sleepy.

There’s a glimmer in his stare, a dazzling sparkle that lives just over the grayish blue of his irises. You don’t identify it, what the warm glint means, for fear of being wrong, but somewhere inside, you know it’s love. It looks to pure to be anything else. He’s grinning again, all nostalgic like. “I was thinking just now, about that day when you patched me up. Best day of my life”.

You scoff. “You almost died”.

“But I got to meet you”.

You’re shaking your head at how lovey dovey he’s being. “Always with the flattery”.

“I’m serious, I fuckin’ love you. More than I ever thought I could”. He rolls you both over easy, his lean build on top surrounding you, fingers still caressing idly against your face and yours drawing along his tattooed back. He kisses you, patient and deep, as if to savor this moment. Staining his memory with the soft pliant flesh of your lips, the airy moan that resonates from your chest, and the lulling skim your nails give the gold of his hair. Forget the Irish and their guns, the Cartel and their H and everything that isn’t this. If he could, he’d stay with you here. Just like this. Forever.

He’s at your neck now, teasing you with tongue wet kisses and stingless nips, but something comes to mind. A wary thought that’s bugged you for a while. “When are we gonna tell my father about us. I want you to meet him”.

He looks to you, confused. “You don’t wanna tell your brothers first?”

“Ezekiel already knows. Found out the first time we met back up to see each other”. You’d thought you’d been sneaky enough that night, leaving after everyone fell asleep, but Ezekiel was always a couple steps ahead it seemed, following you out of Santo Padre a few hours to a bar where you’d met up with Jax. The conversation with him was easier than you expected, but still he was wary, and how couldn’t he be. You were his baby sister. He’d worry till his last breath. “... and I told Angel a couple of weeks ago. Couldn’t really get out of explaining how I had your rings laying around”. You couldn’t remember much of what that admission to him entailed, besides the look of disbelief he had, and then the screaming, and then eventually the forced calm of his expression when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was still unbelievable to him, you weren’t that little girl anymore, no matter how much he wanted you to be.

You were grown, beyond capable of making your own decisions. But boy did it scare you having to tell Felipe.

“Whenever you want to tell him I’m ready”.

His sureness makes you smile, wide and bright, laying a kiss to his rosy lips. “I love you too Jackson”.

#mayans mc #ez reyes #angel reyes #jax teller x reader #soa #jax teller #long headcanon #joannasteez #reyes!reader #jax teller x reyes!reader

[paddooo]

love yourself 2021

Tagged by @supermarketcrayons

Rules: filter to 2021 on your AO3 stat page and answer these questions! Tag friends to do the same

How many fics did you finish this year: 1 lmao i only wrote one oneshot and everything else is in Wait Mode

Most popular by kudos: The Take Over, The Breaks Over (ye olde band au)

Least popular by kudos: I hate you so much please fuck me (horny band au tie in)

Most enjoyable to write: Angel Is Now Live (the camboy au so many puritans told me to kill myself over lmao)

Most out of your comfort zone to write/fic you’re most proud of: En La Boca Del Lobo (this guy is fucking massive ive never written such a big first chapter, not to mention only having one character the entire time? unheard of from me)

Best fic you wrote (or finished) this year, in your opinion: easily The Take Over, The Breaks Over

Anything you wrote that you think is underrated: im a little butthurt about how little attention En La Boca Del Lobo got tbh

Tagging:  @farores-son and anyone else who wants to play (bea tagged everyone i would have other than faron lmao)

#my me #tag game #writing #hehehe every single one features trans nico #i did technically exclude one fic because i started it in 2014 and have been slowly updating it #but for real the fact that my jasico fic got no attention is crazy to me jasico has way more fans than valdangelo #oh well #suicide mention #cw suicide #tw suicide #pjo #hoo #pjato #pjato hoo #riordanverse #valdangelo #jasico #trans nico di angelo #nico di angelo #leo valdez #jason grace

[dioses-y-religiones]

28. Midgard

Sumario.

Tom saltó a la fama internacional con su personaje de Loki en la película de Marvel, Thor. Ahora, pasada un poco la euforia por la película, es atacado por una enfermedad terrible con la que, en ocasiones, pierde el control sobre sí mismo, nadie sabe qué es, ningún médico puede ayudarlo, y se recluye para no dañar a la gente a su alrededor con esos episodios violentos ocasionados por esta extraña enfermedad. En su desesperación, y después de haber agotado todas las posibilidades médicas, se ve obligado a viajar a otro país, muy diferente al suyo para buscar a la ayuda de una bruja.

Nota de Autor: Los diálogos que están en Negrita,son diálogos en inglés.

El playlist en YouTube con las canciones del Fic es: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLe1RQg1PRt4FaYvpCpq6raUbZwtpyLwbz

28. Midgard

Loki estaba recostado sobre su espalda en el piso frío junto a ella, tratando de normalizar su respiración, no sabía si había funcionado, se sentía bien, mejor que en siglos, pero no completamente, estaba honestamente confundido, giró la cabeza para verla y ella no se movía, salvo por su pecho que subía y bajaba con ritmo acelerado, pero sus ojos seguían negros. Volvió a ver el techo con el ceño fruncido, tal vez su hermano tenía razón, tal vez no recordaba cómo eran las midgardianas, porque no sabía que había pasado. Bueno, sí sabía, era obvio pero no podía recordarlo bien, solo algunos momentos y parecía todo tan mecánico, como si él no hubiera tenido el control, no completamente. ¿Fue el ritual? ¿Ella estaba bien? ¿Ella sabía lo que hacía? ¿Lo sabía él? Se sentó frustrado, confundido y honestamente un poco avergonzado, ni siquiera le había quitado el vestido, ella tomó mucho aire, parpadeó y sus ojos regresaron a la normalidad, volteó a todas partes y se sentó junto a Loki, quién ya se había puesto el pantalón.

—¿Funcionó? ¿Cómo te sientes?— Dijo ella.

—Bien…creo que funcionó.— dijo, distraido viendo los símbolos que estaban en el piso, o lo que quedaba de ellos.

—¿Seguro? ¿Qué pasa?

— Es solo…— Loki tocó los simbolos con sus largos y elegantes dedos, como si las líneas pintadas en el piso le fueran a dar una respuesta, pero cuando no lo hicieron, vio a Ofelia con enormes ojos verdes, casi como la viera un gato confundido. —¿Qué pasó? ¿Por qué no tengo completa memoria de lo que pasó?

— Ah eso,— dijo ella levantándose, por un momento se detuvo obviamente sintiendo la reciente intromisión a su cuerpo, a lo que respondió con una pequeña mueca de dolor, luego recogió algunas de las cosas del ritual. —Es solo un pequeño ritual que hacemos las brujas cuando estamos en esta situación por primera vez…— él se levantó y la vio pasearse por el cuarto en ese vestido sencillo blanco, la única muestra física de lo que habían hecho eran unas gotitas rojas en él, —…es tradicional, supongo de debí decirte pero luego recordé que concideras gracioso no decimos las cosas.— terminó con una sonrisa inocente.

Él la miró confundido por un momento, pero luego hizo el gesto muy exagerado de un ¡Ah! sonrió, se recargó en el dosel de la cama y cruzó lo brazos.— Supongo –contunuó la bruja— que podemos llamarlo un empate— dijo ella con la sonrisa más encantadora de la que pudo echar mano. Terminó de recoger las cosas, regresandolas a la caja y apagó las velas. Caminó hacia él.— Bueno, me da gusto que te sientas mejor, —pero él no se movió— ¿No estás enojado verdad?

—¡Claro que no! Si hay alguien que puede ver la belleza en un buen truco, soy yo y fue bueno, de verdad, muy bueno...— dijo con un poco de honesto orgullo, a lo que ella sonrió, — incluso ahora entiendo el ritual— dijo alejándose de ella y acercándose a la caja donde había puesto las cosas del ritual. “talvez debí poner más atención en estas Völvas de Midgard, son muy diferentes a las que yo conocí” pensó Loki— ¿Es un seguro no?—dijo viendo dentro de la caja.

—¿Un seguro?

—Sí, para proteger a la bruja, joven, casta, ingenua…

—¡¿Ingenua?!—dijo ella ofendida.

—¿Un hombre con ella por primera vez? Lo más probable es que sea usado en algun tipo de ritual de fertilidad ¿Cierto? Así que esto asegura la semilla, pero la protege del agresivo macho, que no vaya a sacar provecho de ella. ¿Estoy en lo correcto?

—Algo así. Aunque ahora es más tradicional que nada.— dijo ella viéndolo con sospecha, la verdad hubiera esperado un berrinche o cuando menos que se molestara, verlo así de tranquilo la ponía más nerviosa. Él tomó uno de los antiguos talismanes heredados por generaciones.— No toques eso…—dijo ella al tiempo que trató de caminar hacia él pero sus piernas estaban pegadas al piso.

—¿Loki? No puedo…

—Pero ¿Sábes qué no pensaste querida?— dejó el talismán y caminó dignamente hacia ella disfrutando su cara de confusión.— ¿Cómo voy a aprovecharme de ti, si ya eres mía?— dijo con una sonrisa predatoria. Ella trató de levantar las manos para detenerlo pero sus brazos estaban igual que sus piernas,“un hechizo” pensó ella, un poco nerviosa.

—¡Loki!— dijo ella advirtiéndole pero él la tomó de la cintura.

—Todo está bien pequeña, si vas a engañar al Dios del Engaño, debes estar lista para el juego. – dijo esto mientras le levantaba uno de los brazos por encima de la cabeza y lo dejaba ahí.

—¡Loki! ¿Qué estás haciendo?— él le levantó el otro brazo dejando las muñecas de Ofelia detrás de su cabeza, ella intentó bajarlos, pero sus brazos estaban congelados.

—Solo disfrutando la vista— dijo poniendo sus manos en la cintura y volteando para abajo — fue muy injusto no dejarme participar, pero creo que podemos hacer algo al respecto. —Ella iba a decir algo pero él atrapó su boca en un beso profundo. La acercó más para pegar sus cuerpos. Estaba perfectamente consciente de que no iba a forzarla, pero cuando ella contestó el beso casi hambrienta, lo consideró permiso suficiente.

Frigga estaba asomada por el balcón, estaba viendo preocupada hacia la torrecilla continua donde residían los Príncipes, más específicamente las ventanas de su hijo menor. Había tantas cosas que podían salir mal, por supuesto la más importante era la salud de Loki, pero según entendía estos dos mortales sabían cosas, cosas que Loki no sabía y no tenía idea de cómo reaccionaría su hijo menor ante ese conocimiento, solo tenía la sospecha que de que no sería bueno.

Luego estaba el detalle de terminar el ritual, solo podía imaginarse lo complicado entre ellos tres, los dos mortales y su hijo, era una situación sin precedentes y la Reina no sabría qué haría si tuviera que compartir al Rey con otra mujer, pero lo más importante para ella era la vida de su muchacho y sabía muy bien que para Seiđkona también era importante, así que ¿Por qué no lo hacían y ya?

La Reina suspiró, escuchó a los sirvientes terminar sus quehaceres y retirarse, "tal vez poner algo en la bebida ella...".No estaba orgullosa de pensarlo, pero nada se interponía entre ella y la vida de uno de sus hijos. Se dio la media vuelta, ya iba a acostarse cuando sintió la energía de Loki y de la Wala dispararse y volteó de nuevo a la torrecilla. De la ventana de su hijo salía una gran luz verde y alguna roja.

—Odín, mira.— Dijo la Reina emocionada. Sintió a su esposo junto a ella y las luces fueron bajando de intensidad a casi por completo, pero cuando estuvo a punto de desaparecer, una gran explosión de luz violeta salía de la todas las ventanas de esa habitación. Y ambos reyes supieron que el ritual había completado.

—Llamaré a los sanadores— dijo el Rey controlando sus emociones, pero la Reina lo detuvo con una sonrisa.

—Seguro puede esperar a mañana, amor mío.

Loki no recordaba la última vez que se sintió así de bien, suspiró aliviado, debieron pasar décadas, incluso una centuria sin sentir su cuerpo con ese nivel de potencia, levantó una mano, aun sin poder creer que el ritual funcionara, o poder creer lo mal que se sentía hacía media hora. Transformó esa mano en una garra de lobo con extrema facilidad, luego sin bajarla levantó la otra y la trasformó en la pata de un ave, sonrió, ante la mirada de asombro de Ofelia.

—Transformarte en dos cosas a la vez, listo. – dijo haciendo el gesto de dibujar una palomita en el aire, luego puso su cabeza en el pecho de Loki y cerró los ojos para escuchar el corazón, luego tomó la pata de lobo de la muñeca y se concentró para revisar los signos vitales y la energía del Dios.. — Parece todo en orden, mucho más estable que la última vez que te revisé ¿Cómo te sientes?

Pero en lugar de contestar mostró media sonrisa. Ella lo vio confundida antes de sentir a alguien abrazarla por detrás, volteó asustada y vio que era Lady Loki quién estaba acostada junto a ella y en ese momento depositaba un ligero beso en el hombro de la bruja, luego sonrió levantando la mirada lentamente diciendo.

—Tengo décadas sin sentirme tan fuerte o potente Wala, casi había lo olvidado, podría seguir aquí todo el día y asistir a los compromisos reales, visitar a Thomas, entrenar con mi hermano y no dejarte desatendida aquí… —dijo ella con voz aterciopelada, depositando un beso cada vez, en la espalda, subiendo hasta la base del cuello, — …todo al mismo tiempo.— terminó por susurrarle en el oído, mordiéndole ligeramente el lóbulo, pero antes de que avanzara más, Ofelia volteó con Loki que la veía divertido, y dijo simple, pero tajantemente.

—No.

Con un movimiento de muñeca y una pequeña risa divertida, El Dios desapareció su clon, Ofelia volteó los ojos y se giró a buscar agua.

Él estaba viendo la espalda de ella mientras ella se sentaba para tomar un poco de agua, quería verla toda, conocerla, ahora con tiempo, despacio, mientras más la veía más encontraba pequeños defectos y cicatrices, parecían viejas heridas de batalla, como las que tendría un guerrero, como su hermano o él, no como las doncellas a las que estaba acostumbrado. Por el momento solo había visto en detalle su espalda y una cicatriz en particular es la que llamó su atención, estaba abultada y por el color tostado de la piel de la bruja, se veía más pálida, tenía una forma extraña y se sentía como una quemadura.

—¿Qué es esto?— preguntó el Dios, que estaba recostado sosteniéndose la cabeza con una mano. Ella volteó la cabeza para tratar de ver de que hablaba pero el ángulo no se lo permitía, así que asumió que hablaba de la más reciente.

—¿Eso? Eso es una mordida que no hace más veinte minutos tú me hiciste, en serio, ¿Qué con eso?

— ¿De verdad crees que tienes el derecho de quejarte por eso? porque toda mi espalda seria mi argumento de defensa principal, además deberías estar orgullosa de esa marca, es la marca de un Dios.— a esto ella volteó los ojos — me refiero a esta— dijo siguiéndola con el dedo índice y presionándola un poco.— parece como una “A” de tu lengua.

—¡Ah! Eso… es una “A” de Alan.

—Muy bien. —Dijo el sentándose— ¿Debo ponerme celoso? O en su defecto ¿Poner en aviso a Thomas?

Ella suspiró— Alan es… ¿Cómo decirlo? – Ella sonrió un poco y Loki se alarmó un poco también,— bueno él diría que es mi archienemigo,— Loki se relajó, —pero sería darle demasiado crédito. Es un cazador.

—¿Perdón?

—Hay gente en mi mundo que sabe que existimos las brujas y mucha de esa gente no está contenta con ello, a través de los años se convirtieron en cazadores “profesionales” de brujas, Alan es lo mejor que la generación tiene y parece que tiene un problema particular conmigo, pero está completamente “fuera de la liga”.

—Para ser alguien que no tiene la capacidad de “estar en tu liga” se acercó bastante para hacerte esto.

—Si— dijo ella soltando una carcajada que en el fondo sonó un poco triste. – tuvo mucha suerte ese día de poder acercarse, pero las cosas no salieron como él quería, estaba muy frustrado y tenía hierro caliente a la mano. – Inmediatamente decidió que este mortal no le gustaba, —tal vez debería avisarles a mis hermanas, solo como aviso.

—¿Crees que le haga algo a las personas cercanas a ti?

—Creo que lo intentara, pero ellas saben protegerse.

— Está bien, ¿Qué me dices de tu esposo?

—¡Carajo!— refunfuño ella, frustrada de no haber pensado en ello.

Loki se rió de esto,— No te preocupes querida, mañana le pediré que a Heimdall que lo observe y haré los arreglos para que quede protegido, él es mío, como tú y nadie toca mis cosas.

—No somos tus cosas, —dijo ella, y él sonrió— y me sentiría más tranquila si mis hermanas le echan un ojo.— Loki cada vez sentía más curiosidad por estas brujas y por las demás cicatrices.

—Para ser alguien que proclama ser tan buena en lo que haces, tienes muchas de estas,— dijo el señalando otra cicatriz en su hombro.

—Créeme, en mi trabajo, si no fuera buena, terminaría en la pira. Parece que a veces tú y Tom olvidan que antes de ustedes dos yo tenía una vida perfectamente complicada.

El Dios volvió a sonreírle, mientras ella se recostaba en su pecho — Pero podría apostar que no tan divertida.

—¡Y ganarías la apuesta!— dijo ella de nuevo con un toque de tristeza casi indetectable, —pero no quiero asustar al joven Príncipe con historias sobre la malvada bruja y las cosas horribles que hizo.— Él quería saberlas todas pero ese era, difícilmente, el momento.— ¿Mañana vamos a ver a Tom?— dijo ella mientras se acurrucaba en su pecho

—Sí, mañana viajamos a Midgard y limpiaré el cuerpo de Thomas.— fue lo último que ella escuchó antes de quedarse dormida.

A la mañana siguiente, Ofelia casi escuchó cuando tocaron a la puerta y casi escuchó a Loki decir – Adelante— pero su cerebro terminó de despertar y de entender, hasta que la puerta de la habitación se abrió, ella, con una velocidad impresionante, pasó por encima de Loki que estaba acostado junto a ella y cayó al piso del otro lado de la gran cama donde habían dormido, Loki se sentó a ver qué había pasado, mientras una mano de Ofelia halaba una sábana para taparse y se quejaba del dolor. Cuatro sirvientes, dos hombres y dos mujeres entraron a la habitación y fingieron que no veían a la extraña mortal, uno de los hombres abría las cortinas mientras que una de las mujeres se dirijo a los baños.

—Tienes una manera extraña de despertar Wala ¿Es costumbre tuya saltar del otro lado del lecho? ¿O es algún otro ritual? Si es algo permanente tendremos que hacer arreglos.

—Loki no estoy decente, ¿Puedes decirles que regresen en un rato?— Loki la vio en el piso tapándose pudorosamente con las rodillas pegadas al pecho.

—¿A qué te refieres? No entiendo la relación entre la decencia y la entrada de los sirvientes.

—Me refiero a que no estoy vestida.

—Para eso están ellos aquí, ellas te van a ayudar a arreglarte para la audiencia.— dijo mientras el otro sirviente le sostenía una bata a Loki quien se levantó y se la puso, una de las mujeres se acercó a Ofelia con otra bata y la veía disimuladamente extrañada.

—Puedo arreglarme sola, gracias— dijo halando la bata a la sirviente la cual se sorprendió y se quedó de pie esperando instrucciones— espera... ¿Qué audiencia? dijiste que regresaríamos a la tierra.

—Y lo haremos, pero antes mi madre va querer verte y yo tengo algunos asuntos que entender. Pero te prometo que viajaremos a Midgard hoy, solo soporta a la familia real un día más.— dijo el Dios poniéndose en cuclillas, dándole un beso e ingresando al baño.

—Loki, ¿Para qué me quiere ver tu mamá? ¿Loki...?

— La Reina quiere asegurarse de que Lady Seiđkona ya no es casta y ver si la salud del joven Príncipe está mejorando. Su majestad el Príncipe aún tiene que hablar con los Reyes sobre las responsabilidades de mi Lady y Lord Göthi para con el palacio— contestó la sirvienta ayudándola a levantarse.

—¿No pueden tomar mi palabra?— dijo Ofelia un poco apenada.

—Muy pocas cosas en el palacio funcionan así Seiđkona.

Ofelia trató de no usar la ayuda de sus “damas de compañía” pero cuando trató de ponerse el vestido típico asgardiano tuvo que ceder. Los Æsir son una raza guerrera así que la ropa de "casa" por supuesto tenía piezas de armadura, en su caso, encima del vestido verde, tenía una pechera, y protecciones en los antebrazos, todo hermosamente decorado con alusiones a Loki, era mucho menos pesada que la pechera del Dios, esto era porque Frigga personalmente, la mandó hacer especialmente para la mortal, mucho más ligera y de su “talla”.

—Te ves hermosa Wala. — dijo Loki viéndola con orgullo.

—Gracias, pero tengo que decir que no es nada práctica.—contestó ella moviéndose de diferentes formas para ver la movilidad del vestido.

Eir entró seguida de tres sanadoras, ella encaminó a Ofelia a su habitación mientras las otras tres inspeccionaban al Príncipe. Eir, para alivió de Ofelia, la revisó por medio de escáneres.

Una vez terminada la revisión de la bruja, salieron al recibidor, donde ya estaba Thor parado en el balcón, se veía estresado. Vio a Eir un momento y esta asintió con la cabeza, después hizo una reverencia y se dirigió a la gran puerta doble de la habitación personal de Loki. Ofelia se sentó en uno de los sillones, sabía que Thor la estaba viendo, pero que su intimidad fuera tan publica, la ponía nerviosa.

—Mi señora Ofelia, luces excepcionalmente encantadora esta mañana ¿Cómo te encuentras?— dijo el Dios de Trueno, en un tono que ella adivinó, agradecido y preocupado.

—Thor, si me permites...—Ofelia espero un momento a que el Dios asintiera, dándole permiso de hablar libremente — ...no tienes que fingir conmigo, sé que te estas volviendo loco de preocupación por Loki, pero te aseguro que funcionó, pensamos esto muy bien. — dijo ella tratando de sonar profesional, el Dios la vio sorprendido, primero de cómo le habló y luego por saber justamente lo que lo aquejaba.

—Es mi hermano menor, cuando éramos infantes prometí que siempre lo cuidaría y aunque a través de los siglos nos hemos separado, no quiero perderlo, no hay Thor sin Loki.

—Hazme un favor y recuerda eso que acabas de decir ¿Quieres? y siempre pregunta "por qué" antes de sacar una conclusión, Thor promételo… — dijo ella sin pensarlo mucho, sabía que estaba dando mucha información, pero le partía el corazón pensar que los acontecimientos de la película podrían suceder. Ninguno de los dos se lo merecía y ella y Tom se prometieron que harían lo que fuera para evitarlo.

Primero Thor la vio confundido, pero luego sonrió, ella pensó en los diferentes que eran Loki y él, —Ese es mi juramento mi Señora Ofelia.— dijo este acercándose para abrazarla.

En eso salió Eir.

­ ­—El Príncipe Loki está en perfecto estado de salud, solo necesita tiempo para recuperar la lozanía previa a su enfermedad, si me disculpa su majestad, iré a dar mi reporte al Rey y la Reina.— con esto salió. Thor no esperó a nada y entró a la habitación. Ofelia sonrió cuando escuchó el crujido de los huesos de Loki cuando Thor lo abrazó y cuando el menor se quejó. La bruja se quedó afuera dejando a los hermanos disfrutar de la privacidad, así que estaba en el balcón cuando entraron dos Einherjar a flanquear al mismísimo Rey seguido de la Reina, quién se adelantó para entrar a la habitación de su hijo menor, sin embargo Odín se quedó de pie, Ofelia lo vio sorprendida pero enseguida puso una rodilla en el piso y una manoal pecho como se esperaba de ella en presencia del Rey.

—Este es el principio de tu vida entre los Dioses, Seiđkona, levántate niña.— dijo el Rey caminado hacia ella, Ofelia sabía perfectamente que el Dios que tenía enfrente la veía como una herramienta y ahora como la mascota de Loki, pero tenía razón, ahora iba a vivir entre ellos, tenía que aprender a vivir con ellos, ella obedeció pero se quedó con la cabeza gacha.

—Su majestad.— fue lo único que ella dijo, justo se preguntaba porque se quedaba a hablarle, porque retrasar su reunión familiar para quedarse con ella, así que lo dejaría hablar, tampoco era que tuviera muchas opciones.

—Salvaste la vida de mi hijo y por eso tienes ese privilegio, sin embargo hay un riesgo que no estoy dispuesto a tomar, mortal.— Ofelia seguía con la mirada en el piso, pero una luz dorada le llamó la atención, levantó la cabeza para encontrarse con Odín de frente, tenía una daga en la mano y estaba vibrando con magia, una que Ofelia apenas podía sentir, vio como uno de los guardias, cerraba la puerta de la habitación de Loki mientras que otro se acercaba a ella, ella iba a preguntar qué pasaba, pero su voz estaba paralizada, el guardia cercano a ella, la sujetó y le dio media vuelta y ahí la mantuvo, sintió a Odín detrás de ella, abriendo su pechera y su vestido, descubriendo su espalda, ella trató de soltarse asustada, pero por supuesto cualquier Dios la superaría, mucho más, un “Ejercito de un hombre”.

— No puedo arriesgarme a que le digas a los Príncipes la verdad sobre la herencia de Loki, mientras seas de él, no podrás hablar del tema. Y te aseguraras de que el otro mortal tampoco lo haga, Yo el Padre de Todo, Lo ordeno. – Ofelia sintió el filo atravesar la piel, pero no pudo gritar, Odín estaba dibujando algo en su espalda y dolía mucho. Pero lo único que se oía era el metal contra la piel caliente y el roce entre las telas de ella y el Einherjar. Al terminar Odín puso una mano sobre la herida y a ella ya no le dolió, solo se sintió muy cansada y mareada, el guardia la llevó a su habitación y ahí se quedó dormida.

Despertó una hora después por una delicada y fresca mano en la frente, Ofelia abrió los ojos de repente y semovió lo más alejada posible de la persona recogiendo sus rodillas, pero no vio peligro, solo a la Reina que estaba sentada en su cama.

—¡Oh! Mi querida niña, lo lamento tanto.— Ofelia no entendió al principio pero cuando se recargó en la gran cabecera de su cama y su espalda se escoció, se acordó. Se levantó y se descubrió, sobre su omóplato izquierdo tenía una marca como metal incrustado, de unos diez centímetros. Volteó con la Reina.— debes saber que todo lo que hace el Rey lo hace por una razón.

—No iba a decir nada, ni yo ni Tom solo estaba…— pero su voz desapareció.

—No lo intentes querida, el encantamiento de Odín es muy fuerte. – dijo ella caminando hacía la bruja. ­– Solo quería que supieras que no es mala su intención, es solo que es un poco brusco con sus formas.— ella sonrió.

— Y ¿No cree que Loki va a preguntar qué es esto?— dijo Ofelia honestamente molesta, pero controlando mucho su tono.

—La marca va a desaparecer, pero te aseguro que no te hará ningún daño, Odín va a hacer un festín en honor al Príncipe y sus mortales. Ahí hará la recuperación de Loki pública, pero lo vamos a retrasar hasta que tú y Loki regresen con Göthi de Midgard.— dijo la Diosa alejándose de la bruja para dejar entrar a una sirviente que traía en la mano un paquete con la ropa normal de Ofelia, luego se acercó de nuevo y tomó las manos de Ofelia— solo prométeme que siempre serás fiel y siempre protegerás a mi niño.

Ofelia la vio a los ojos.

—Lo prometo.

Thor estaba afuera de la habitación, saludó a su madre y se ofreció a escoltar a Ofelia al observatorio. Cuando llegaron Loki ya la estaba esperando junto a Hemdall, vestido con un traje y corbata, ella sonrió al verlo con ropa midgardiana, probablemente escogido por Tom.

— Por fin despertaste Wala, creo que debí tener más cuidado contigo. O tal vez ¿Subestímaste pasar la noche con un Dios?— Dijo el dándole la señal a Heimdall para activar el Bifröst y ambos desaparecían, mientras ella se carcajeó sarcásticamente.

— ¡Por favor! eso, es lo más gracioso que has dich…PERO QUE CHINGADOS VICTORIA?...

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