#deadlock fluff

ཐི♡ཋྀ The Baroness was completely booked on Valentine’s Day, which makes sense, but what people didn’t know is that the Doorman had rented every room just so you could enjoy the Baroness and its services alone. This is a gift he must give you to show his gratitude because you’re the most interesting human he gets to observe and dedicate himself to.

His favorite human for showing him what it means to be just that: human.

The day starts with you waking up to the delicious smell of your favorite breakfast foods. Opening your eyes, you’re suddenly surrounded by the warmth, plush pillows, and comforters belonging to one of the suites at the Baroness Hotel. Not too far from you is the Doorman pushing a breakfast cart towards the side of the bed.

If you’re comfortable, the Doorman would love to personally feed you. Today, he wants to treat you like royalty. The Doorman’s got you, so don’t even think of lifting a finger today.

After breakfast, it’s spa services. Massages, facials, you name it! Today is about relaxation. The Doorman has always been a giver, and he finds great enjoyment in watching your content and calm expressions as every muscle in your body relaxes. The session is filled with small talk with your favorite fragrance dancing around the room from the scent machine, a comfortable quietness that neither of you thinks is worth interrupting, just enjoying each other’s presence and company.

The Doorman nearly forgets to blink, forgets to breathe, though I guess he doesn’t need to. Your precious skin underneath his hands is something he lovingly worships, whispering to himself all the things he adores about your soul.

The whole experience feels euphoric; you’re sure you’ve nearly fallen asleep between each touch. He’s gentle, yet firm, making sure he really works through all of your tension.

Such an exquisite human; The Doorman can admit that. He’s been blessed by your being on a special day for the living. Love has always fascinated the Doorman. He wonders what love looks like. What does it feel like?

They’re questions that ring in his head as we transition to the hotel lobby, embracing your form in a little dance, a slow and intimate song humming from the gramophone. The skin of his hands touching your own, he can't help but feel the gentle expression that takes over his features. With you, it’s hard to control his form. You feel so fragile in his hold; he’d mend and mold himself to match you, to protect you, to love you.

When he looks down at you, into your [color] eyes, the smile that never leaves your lips, perhaps he’s perfect the way he is.

His arms outstretched, putting you in a spin, you’ve easily become his whole world. Or maybe you were the sun, with the way you radiate and brighten your entire surroundings, the way you radiate and brighten against him.

In all the years the Doorman has been living, somewhere deep inside him, in his heart, in his soul, he knows that there is no one in this whole universe, in all dimensions, who is like you.

It was strange at first, learning how to balance the relationship. Both Fade and Deadlock had their own way of showing care, and both struggled, sometimes quietly, sometimes more bluntly, when it came to dealing with how fragile you were physically.

Deadlock’s protectiveness usually showed itself in silence. She didn’t hover, exactly, but you noticed she was always subtly close, always making sure the path you walked on was clear, or that the heavy grocery bag ended up in her hand before you even thought about lifting it. She never teased you about your weakness, instead, she simply adjusted for it. If she offered to hold you, she’d ask softly first, as though she was checking she wouldn’t accidentally hurt you.

Fade, on the other hand, had a harder time with it, because it scared her. She hated seeing how easily your strength could fail, hated that she couldn’t just make your body sturdier. She’d never say it out loud, but her prowlers would appear more often when you were around, as if her nightmares themselves wanted to keep watch over you. Where Deadlock was steady and practical, Fade was emotional. She would brush her hand against yours and linger there too long, or curl her body protectively around you at night, almost as though keeping you anchored to her.

Together, they were a good balance. Deadlock would lift you onto the counter without a word so you wouldn’t strain yourself reaching for the kettle, and Fade would immediately be behind you, sliding her arms around your waist as if she could shield you from just everything. You’d laugh, telling them both you weren’t glass, but the way they looked at you, Fade’s constant worry, Deadlock’s way of always keeping an eye out for you, reminded you how deeply they cared.

You weren’t fragile to them in a way that made you a burden. You were fragile like a priceless artifact, something that needed gentleness and care, but was still beautiful to hold. And no matter how insecure Fade grew, or how cautious Deadlock became, they both found themselves softening when thinking about the fact that, you were theirs, and they would make sure to protect you in every way they knew how.

Deadlock

Deadlock hated watching you struggle with strength-based tasks. She never pitied you (that wasn’t her way) but she quietly made adjustments around you. Heavy doors? She’d open them without making a show of it. Long walks? She’d slow her pace until it matched yours perfectly.

But the tenderness showed most in small, intimate moments. You’d lie against her chest, your body tired, and she’d stroke your hair in patient silence. She was cautious when holding you, bionic arm flexing nervously at first as though she could forget her own strength. Eventually, though, she found her rhythm, firm enough to remind you of her presence, but gentle enough that you felt safe in her arms.

“Kjære” she’d murmur into your hair, her voice low. “Doesn’t matter how strong you are. You’re still everything to me.”

Fade

Fade always worried. You could see it in the way her eyes lingered on you when you were tired, the way she frowned when you insisted you could carry something yourself.

It wasn’t distrust, it was fear. Fear of losing you.

So she compensated in her own way. If you needed rest, she’d coax you into her lap and stroke her thumb over your knuckles, whispering things in Turkish too soft for you to catch. If someone made a careless comment about your weakness, she’d glare them into silence, prowler at her side.

When you curled into her side one night and whispered, “You don’t have to worry so much,” she smiled faintly, brushing her nose against your temple.

“I know,” she said. “But I will anyway. Because you’re my dream, Yarim.”

Divider by: @/saradika-graphics

ཐི♡ཋྀ Drifter has no idea how it happened. He was known as the cruel and bloodthirsty Drifter, who tore down and broke all vampiric traditions and stereotypes. He didn’t care for status, riches, eternal youth, romance, or love. He was above those things. That’s what he told himself, that’s what he believed. But lately, it feels like his heart and mind have been disobeying him. His heart left his ribcage and found home on his sleeve.

The Drifter somehow found himself fancying you. It kind of scared him, the feelings he harbored for you as they grew more and more each day. These feelings made him feel small, vulnerable, and weak.

He hasn’t felt like this in centuries.

After meeting you, getting to know you, the way he felt about his feelings started to change. You’re comforting, nostalgic, and you feel like home. The Drifter has always lived his life selfishly, but if he was given one last selfish act, it would be to stay by your side.

Valentine’s Day was fast approaching, and the Drifter knew he needed to get you something special.

But how do you get the right gift for your special someone when you haven’t given a gift to anyone in ages? These aren’t questions or thoughts that typically run through the Drifter’s mind.

But as the Drifter looks into the glass window of a jewelry shop, the perfect gift seems to have arisen.

You’ve left your mark on Drifter’s heart, as if you owned it, and he was going to make sure he’s left a permanent one on your own.

When Valentine’s Day finally arrived, the Drifter was quick to show you the matching necklaces he had gotten for both of you. Don’t ask him how he got them.

Or do! When figuring out what to get you, like a giddy puppy, he so badly wanted to tell you what he had planned to get you days in advance. It’s not his fault; every time he spent time with you, it was like the butterflies swirling in his stomach wanted to creep up his throat, daring him to let slip the special gift idea he had for you.

He swears you’re killing him slowly.

When you choose to walk next to him, and as closely as possible. The shine of your necklace is never able to outmatch the beautiful glimmer of your eyes as the moonlight reflects off them.

The Drifter is completely transparent with you; this isn’t something he’s used to doing. There’s no one else in this world he’d go the extra mile for. The night reflects that as you both take a relaxing stroll together, the Drifter’s arms wrapped around your figure, holding you close, protecting you as you converse back and forth.

His hold on you is firm, and to most it may be suffocating, overwhelming. But to you, it’s exactly what you need.

You’re the person that haunts him when he closes his eyes, and he swears that even in the dark, he still sees your outline, your lovely shape.

ཐི♡ཋྀ You wouldn’t think Billy would be the type to shower the people he loves and cares about with gifts on this special day, but you’d be wrong. In fact, Billy is the type who plans out gifts way in advance. Holidays are so conformist, but his love for you isn’t.

What people don’t give Billy credit for is that he’s observant; his gifts are sweet and handmade, showing you just how much he pays attention to you.

Attached to your waist is a little plushie that looks like you, because Billy remembers the time you pointed out the goat plushie he often brought along with him. He remembers letting you hold it, awing at the craftsmanship, hugging it close. He’d steal it back from you, turning his face in embarrassment, wishing it were you giving him hugs. But the memory of your happy face holding the little plushie made him realize he needed to do something to bring it back.

Adorning your figure is a jacket that Billy has taken the time to decorate just for you. Billy points at all the designs he’s added in fabric paint and what they all mean. There are handmade pins, grommets, chains, studs, patches, and spikes that litter the garment. He’ll help you slip the jacket over your shoulders, letting your arms rest in the sleeves. When he takes a step back, he’s in awe. You look amazing.

Billy rubs the back of his neck, flusteredly telling you how he tried not to go too intense on the design, just in case you wanted to make it yours with your own embellishments.

You can only smile, rushing to his body with your own, embracing him. Billy may be caught off guard, but he will always return your hugs. Your warmth is something he never realized he’s been missing in his life.

Billy then would slip a cassette tape into your hands along with a portable player: a mixtape with the list of songs he’s lovingly and selectively chosen that either reminded him of you, or songs he thought you may enjoy. It’s a gift you can’t enjoy at the moment, after all, you’ve got a concert for two that Billy has bought the tickets for. But whenever you do listen to it, you realize just how lucky you are to have met someone who knows you so intimately.

The concert is wild, featuring several punk bands performing that night, with loud music resonating within your heart.

Billy sticks by your side the whole night, whether that’s choosing to be off to the side, just enjoying the music. Unless you’d rather get closer to the stage, dancing and singing your hearts out. Or maybe you want to be in the pit, then Billy makes sure no one is too forceful or aggressive with you. Your Billy is protective; he won’t hesitate to ram into anyone with his horns if that means you feel safe and get to thoroughly enjoy yourself at the concert. Kind of like your own bodyguard! He knows you’re strong; he knows that all too well, after all, your strength is one of his favorite things about you. But tonight, he doesn’t want you to worry at all about being strong. Let him take care of everything and have you enjoy yourself.

ཐི♡ཋྀ Whether you picture yourself as Dynamo’s partner or would like to read his section as purely platonic, we can just headcanon that he’d still find the time to make time for you. Because that’s just the typical Dynamo we’ve grown to love, the type to always step up, the type to always be there for you when it counts.

Dynamo finds you after he’s done with all his college lectures, letting the students leave early so they can spend time with their special someone.

The grand night with Dynamo means visiting the local space museum, taking in all the beautiful space artifacts, and reading all the plaques of information about stars, planets, and galaxies. Dynamo rambles and rants about all the beautiful once-in-a-lifetime space experiences, marveling at how rare these occurrences and events are, with numbers and statistics that may confuse you, but you’re able to understand the significance of his words as the dying star trapped in the glass of his head twinkles and shines brighter than you’ve ever seen it.

You’re completely enamored, adoring the way this man expresses himself, hearts and stars comically forming in your eyes. Dynamo stutters and stammers over his next words, taken aback by the focus you have on him, staring at him like he’s the most interesting thing in the universe, in all dimensions.

He tells you gently, the star now dancing around his face plate, how lucky he is to have met someone as incredible as you. A chance, an opportunity like this, is as rare as Comet Tsuchinsan-ATLAS, which only appears once every 80,000 years. Shyly, he includes how it’s visible to the naked eye right where you stand: in the Cursed Apple.

You let out a lighthearted laugh, the type of sound that ignites Dynamo’s whole body in a comforting warmth, like a campfire underneath the breathtaking stars.

He guides the telescope at angles where you’re able to capture the best views of the night sky, listing off as many facts as possible that would keep your smile as bright as a star.

Dinner is taken at the museum’s restaurant that includes an equally charming menu with dishes inspired by space. If you’d like dessert too, that's completely fine, Dynamo’s got it covered. Like the gentleman he is, he’ll always cover the bill, and you can’t fight him on it! It’s a little awkward considering Dynamo can’t eat, or well, can he even eat? But Dynamo is content with chatting with you as you enjoy your meal, listening intently to anything you have to say.

After paying for your meal and leaving the waiter a good tip, Dynamo ushers you towards the souvenir shop near the front doors. You practically beam at the sight of all the cute, interesting, and cool items. All of them are perfect, but you’re not sure which one you want.

Dynamo gives you time to think as he slips away to a nearby corner, wanting to pick out a specific gift for you. When you end up picking out the souvenir you wanted, you hand it to Dynamo as he instructs you to wait outside so he can surprise you.

Before leaving the souvenir shop, you thank Dynamo for everything as you embrace him in a tight hug.

When Dynamo returns, he presents you with the gift he had bought you from the souvenir shop: a picture frame of the specific phase the moon was in on the day you two first met.

ཐི♡ཋྀ The big and tough detective doesn’t do Valentine’s Day, or at least that’s what he tries to convince himself. He’s bashful, but he knows you’re someone he deeply cherishes.

You’re someone who lingers in the forefront of his mind when he knows he should be focusing on whatever case he’s picked up. You’re the brief coffee run he makes before he starts work, the relaxing break that finally arrives that he’s been waiting for. Someone’s left an imprint of themselves in his heart, and you’re the prime suspect.

A week before Valentine’s Day, Abrams scans the shelves at the store for any gift he can get you, but none of them feel suitable for you. You, the person who’s granted him endless inspiration, his driving motivation, and the person he can feel the most vulnerable with. He needed to give you something special that fully reflects his feelings towards you.

That’s when a brilliant idea pops into his head: a fancy fountain pen and a blank journal feel like the perfect gift. The pen is nicely weighted and stable in your hand for whatever new creations. The journal: blank, and just the right canvas for anything your heart desires. Before checking out, Abrams includes a murder mystery game kit that he hopes you’ll want to play with him on the special day.

Fast forward, it’s Valentine’s Day, and Abrams is just now coming home from his work. He brings home your favorite takeout food, setting the food containers down onto the coffee table in the living room. There you were in the corner of the living room on one of the seated chairs, because you were always someone in his corner. The night is filled with both of you chowing down on delicious food, laughter that makes your stomach ache, and smiles that make the corners of your lips hurt. Classic Abrams is taking the mystery kit way too seriously, bringing out a corkboard, red string, and pins. He rips off his glasses, jokingly scolding you with his finger for not taking him seriously as you try to write down the notes of the case in your new journal. You laugh so hard you can feel tears forming in your eyes.

The sight of your smile, the sound of your laughter: it makes Abram’s heart flutter. In the afterglow of your dying laughter, the soft look in Abrams eyes, with half-empty food containers surrounding you: Abrams promises to be your rock. He may be in constant danger, but he promises to keep you safe. When you feel like you have no one, know you can rely and depend on him. His love and care for you are strong, stable, and secure.

ཐི♡ཋྀ Infernus is wiping down another shot glass after washing it. The regulars stare at him strangely; he’s been wiping down that shot glass for 10 minutes now, deep in thought. The brim of Infernus' hat casts a shadow over his eyes, hiding how entranced he is in his thoughts.

A question that has been concerning Infernus for a while now: what would be the best gift for you for Valentine’s Day? He talks to equally sober and drunk regulars at Jezebel’s, asking the customers what they had planned for their special somebody: heart-shaped chocolates, festive teddy bears, appropriate Valentine’s Day cards, and lingerie- Infernus grimaced at that response in particular, not afraid to show his distaste.

Infernus sighs to himself, hoping an idea would come to him soon, as he taps his fingers on the wooden countertop.

On a night on his day off from work, Infernus finds himself at a familiar liquor aisle, intending to get himself a treat, especially because work has been getting quite busy, hectic, and worst of all, stressful. That’s when a shiny book cover catches his eye, a mixology kit, and that’s when the idea ignites.

Infernus puts the mixology kit in his cart, his excited strides making it to the arts and crafts aisle. What a genius idea: making you your own cocktail recipe book, or if you don't drink, he instead makes you a mocktail recipe book.

A project Infernus has picked up in his free time, including pictures, stickers, and a step-by-step process on how to make each drink. Along the sides is a small playful description of each drink, and as he wraps the ribbon around your gift, tying it into a bow, sealing the edges with his flame, your gift is now ready!

On Valentine’s Day, whether that’s late at night after Infernus’ shift, or before his shift started (depending on if you prefer the cocktail or mocktail recipe), Infernus shows you the beauty of his talents as he helps you make the drinks, pouring them into fancy cups with the garnish of your choice.

“Cheers!” Infernus exclaims, gesturing out to you with his cup, and like a magnet, you clink your glass with his, sipping at the delicious drink you learned to make thanks to Infernus.

Your time spent with Infernus is filled with laughter as Infernus attempts to make different creatures out of the different crackers, fruits, nuts, and curated meat from the charcuterie board you both shared.

“Look!” Infernus points out, “This one looks like Abrams!”

“Oh nooo!” You exclaim, taking the mini Abrams made out of crackers and meat, and plopping him into your mouth.

“How could you do that to our friend?!” Infernus mourns, faking a tear.

Infernus loves that you and he can shine so brightly around one another; he’ll have to thank Abrams again for introducing him to you.

ཐི♡ཋྀ Holliday stares down at the two tickets in her hand, a week-long trip to Macomb, Illinois. She should be excited, but there was anxiety piling itself in the pit of her stomach; after all, it’s not often she gets to treat herself like this. It’s hard to set aside revenge, to set aside her feelings of love, knowing her track record with that, and knowing that nothing has felt quite the same after her sister died. But there’s a glimmer of hope that reflects back at Holliday as she hands you the ticket. She wants you to accompany her this Valentine’s Day as she visits her hometown.

Arriving in Macomb, you notice the physical weight that gets lifted off of Holliday’s shoulder.

Home sweet home.

There’s a lighthearted smile that forms at the corner of her lips as she carries your luggage into a nearby motel, the best motel in her county that’s known for its cozy and sweet hospitality.

Throughout the week, Holliday takes you to every great spot she can think of. The best restaurants, markets, pubs, you name it. You felt like royalty as Holliday led you to every spot, your arm wrapped around hers, as everyone greeted the Sheriff of Macomb back home. It’s a tight-knit community that warms your heart; this closeness is exactly what both of you needed this Valentine’s Day.

On the special day, Holliday takes you to the county fair. The loud music and vibrant colors instantly bring Holliday back to her childhood. Like a kid, Holliday excitedly takes you to all her favorite booths. The day starts with matching face paints, blindly letting the other choose what face paint they wanted for each other. There’s the petting zoo that allows farmers to trade with each other their herds and flocks. Holliday helps calm your nerves if you get scared trying to feed the goats, showing you by example how she feeds them, and asking you to copy her. She praises you for how well you did, but before you can properly thank her, she ushers you to sanitize your hands because she wants to get a caricature drawing done for the two of you.

Night begins to creep into the day, staining the sky in a beautiful dark blue as you both continue to walk around the fair. Holliday looks around, couples hand in hand, kissing one another. She blushes, bringing the brim of her hat down to hide her flustered expression. From the corner of her eye, she looks to where you’re both intertwined. She hasn’t spent time like this with anyone in a long time.

Your peaceful walk gets interrupted as you stare longingly at a large stuffed animal prize that you so badly wanted. Holliday notices the look in your eyes, even in her bashful state.

She tells you not to worry, that before she met you, she was known to be a pro at the trick shooting games. Paying for a try, Holliday takes an immediate position and aims with her gun; all she has to do is hit all the targets before the timer runs out, easy enough.

In awe, you watch every target go down, Holliday’s quick movements and intense precision, you swear is making your heart thump.

Holliday comes back, handing you the large stuffed animal you had wanted. You hug it close, thanking Holliday for taking you home.