PAIRING : mina, doorman, paige, pocket x reader (separate).
SYNOPSIS : voicelines the deadlock characters would say to their lover in the midst of the chaos between york and greenwich.
TAGS : obviously game spoilers, implied kisses, pet names (beautiful, moonlight, dear, darling, protagonist, princess), ice cream (sorry if you’re lactose intolerant), protective mina, the doorman scaring reader, slightly possessive pocket, comfort (in pocket’s section), mina and pocket are ex fiancés, flirty doorman, rambly paige <3.
NOTES : | 9/8/25 | there’s not many deadlock fanfics as i’m writing this, so i hope to change that because i absolutely adore the characters in this game! this fic is inspired by @wisteriaiswriting’s voiceline headcanons for valorant so make sure you read them here!
pt 2 here!
𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑯𝒂 .⋆♱
𖤐 Mina's reaction to laning with Reader
“Oh, hello, beautiful, I’m loving your outfit! Wait a second, is that my lipstick you’re wearing?! You know you could’ve just asked to borrow it.. Well, if I ever need a touch-up, I’ll be sure to steal some off your lips~.”
𖤐 Mina requesting to swap lanes to be with Reader
“Yeah, no. If I want anything done, I’m going to need a competent teammate.”
𖤐 Reader assists in Mina’s kill
“You should’ve seen the look on their face when I killed them! Or well- when we killed them, hehe~.”
𖤐 Pocket nearly kills Reader
“Get your PAWS off my Moonlight, Pocket! Are you okay?! Don’t worry, they’re never going near you ever again, I’ll be sure of it!”
𖤐 After the ritual
“So you wanna go shopping after all this? Really?! I knew you’d say yes! Our ruling over all vampires can wait!”
.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏
𖤐 The Doorman's reaction to laning with Reader
“Do you feel all prepared for battle, my Dear? It’s okay if not, you know I’ll always have your back and make up for any slip-ups. And after the ritual, would you like to accompany me in having tea at the Baroness? Your presence would be delightful~.”
𖤐 The Doorman assists in Reader’s kill
“Thanking me? That was most certainly all you. You really showed them no mercy~..”
𖤐 The Doorman scares Reader through a door he suddenly placed
“Boo! Haha, your frightened face is so adorable! Apologies, Darling, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay in York Lane. And from the looks of it, you have it all under control.”
𖤐 The Doorman protecting the Reader
“You went through my door just in time! And you managed to take out the Bookworm on your way out? I’m quite impressed~.”
𖤐 Adjusting the Doorman’s clothes after a fight
“I’m flattered, Dear. It’s somewhat comical; usually, I’m at your service. I hope you know that the Baroness will always have a room for the two of us~.”
-ˋˏ✄┈ 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒆
𖤐 Paige's reaction to laning with Reader
“You want to know how my story is going? Oh, it’s going great! So great.. NO! No, you can’t read it! It’s too embarrassing.. Okay, well, maybe after the ritual, I’ll let you read it. I really do hope you like it..”
𖤐 Healing Paige while you’re both in a fight
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve been completely fine, I think.. You’re right! The protagonist never dies, especially when she has a family to come back home to, haha!”
𖤐 Paige assists in Reader’s kill
“That was incredible! You reminded me of the knight in the book I read this morning! You want me to be your princess? Only as long as I get to be your princess in shining armor, haha! Matching suits of armor?! Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
𖤐 Sneaking into the enemy base with Paige
“I’m really scared they might catch us.. I’m the bravest person you know? Oh, that’s so sweet.. Okay..! I can do this. We can do this! Let’s get those enemy shrines while they’re distracted!”
𖤐 After the ritual
“Okay, fiiine, I’ll let you edit my story after the ritual. But don’t judge me, it’s still not done! And don’t get suspicious if the main character is similar to a certain person I love. What? I didn’t say anything, haha!
𝑷𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕 “𝑨𝒓𝒊𝒏” ⋆˚✿˖° 𓆏
𖤐 Pocket's reaction to laning with Reader
“It’s nice to see a face that I can trust.. Well, I know it’s a given, I am your partner after all, but it’s just nice to verbalize it to my Love…”
𖤐 Healing Pocket after a fight
“I’m okay, I promise. Though, I’ll admit, it feels really nice for you to be taking care of me as you always do, no matter our circumstances..”
𖤐 Reader is impressed by Pocket
“You thought I looked attractive when I finished off the Doorman? Oh, it’s nothing.. Thank you. I won’t let him get close to you, my Love.”
𖤐 There’s an enemy Mina
“Don’t worry, my Love, you know you have my heart. If I see her, I’ll hide in my briefcase for you, haha. But on a serious note, know that I belong to you, eternally.”
𖤐 After the ritual
“After this, you said you wanted to get ice cream? I’m down..! I won’t be able to hang around for long, as you know, but I hope you know every moment I have with you is precious.”
§ it’s surprisingly hard to get this man to be physically affectionate.
§ and if he is, it’s usually just a hand hold or a hand gingerly placed on your shoulder or back
§ maybe it’s a habit he had from being professional all the time, or maybe he didn’t want to accidentally crush something on you.
§ he has a pretty decent grasp of his own strength but he can never be too safe around his partner.
§ however if he’s tired enough, nothing will unshackle you from this man.
§ his work takes a lot out of him, coming home late was just another burden that came with it.
§ drained and exhausted, he’ll toss his coat on the couch and beeline towards the bed, towards you.
§ you don’t need to open your eyes or turn on the lights to see who’s there, the steady yet heavy footsteps, the scent of cigarettes, the quiet clicking of folding glasses before placing them on the nightstand, tell you everything you need to know.
§ he’d loom over the bed for a second before quietly asking “you awake?”
§ he knows you are, he just wanted to say something to announce that he was there.
§ slowly, he’d lay down beside you, burying his face on your shoulder.
§ his arms wrapped around your midsection firmly as he spoons you almost too greedily.
§ His tail subconsciously wrapped around one of your calves.
§ he doesn’t want to talk about his day, he just wanted to feel you for now.
§ and for the next couple hours, so you might stay in this exact position till noon, sorry.
The Doorman
§ he’s incredibly fascinated by this act of connection humans do.
§ but he’s also not the best at it…
§ he’s stiff in an almost abnormal manner, always upright and articulate unable to melt into the cuddles like people usually do.
§ “that’s my good shirt dear.” He’d mutter through his teeth because god forbid if he has to wrinkle a shirt or two in a hug.
§ he thought it to be neater, like the common professional gesture he’d grown accustomed to.
§ but once he realised that’s not the case, he grows even more oddly captivated.
§ he is always open for cuddling, but you have to do most of the heavy lifting here.
§ He can’t in good conscience deny such simply request as bathing in his embrace.
§ his flesh made disguise’s embrace, sure, but if he had it his way he’d engulf you in his endless presence and keep you safe and warm for the rest of eternity.
§ tucked away from all of humanity’s flaws and cruelty until you become one.
§ unfortunately that would require a lot from your mere human self…so he’ll settle for hugs.
§ his favourite positions are the ones where he’s the one providing you comfort.
§ use his chest as a pillow, lean on him as you embrace him, lay on his lap if you must.
§ for he is quite content to serve.
Drifter
§ cuddling? More like playing with your nerves.
§ when he initiates, it’s slow, calculating, and at the most unexpected of times.
§ startling you is a game for him, even when he intends no harm.
§ and to him that’s the fun of it, hearing your pulse quicken by him simply playing docile.
§ his face slowly getting buried on where throat is, his arms almost restrictive in their hold.
§ he’s too cold for comfort, he knows it. That’s why he’ll dig for as much skin contact as possible. It’s fun seeing you squirm.
§ he’d trace a single fang on your skin, he’d feel the involuntary flinch within your skin immediately.
§ his smirk would drop whenever that happens, was he offended? Annoyed? It’s difficult to tell.
§ his preferred position is anything that limits your movements.
§ and just as his arms wrapped around you, they’d let go whenever he feels like it.
§ whether or not you wanted more or not.
§ he’ll move along like nothing ever happened.
Infernus
§ oh how he ‘hates’ it.
§ like…‘totally’ does, his grumbling never ceases to end.
§ it’s amusing honestly.
§ especially when you hug him from behind while he works.
§ “you don’t have something better to do, do you?” Is the usual prickly response, but he never protests beyond that.
§ the way he adjusts your arms around him even suggests otherwise.
§ suspiciously enough he becomes grumpier than usual whenever you don’t hug him.
§ could you be blamed? He’s warmer than all the heating systems in New York combined!
§ and he’s quite prideful of that fact weirdly enough.
§ something about the way that you look for him first whenever you need warmth just does it for him.
§ he’s an excellent cuddler in private, kisses wherever possible too^^
§ it’s not easy to get him to admit that he likes it however.
§ “I guess it’s alright…” while he’s already adjusting his arms to hold you better.
§ even outside of cuddling he strikes me as the type of man to have at least one limp on his partner at most times.
§ gotta make sure the drunks in Jezebel’s know you’re unavailable.
Note: this was so much fun to write, sorry if it’s a little too short uni is kicking my ahh as we speak <\3
Didn't like the fact Venator/Father Quinn Rourke had no fanfics, so I decided to take it upon my hands to fix that, enjoy.
Summary: After a long, gruesome and tiring day of work and hunting unholy creatures that feasted on the fear of the innocent. Your husband Quinn Rourke more known for his title "Venator XLVIII", came back home to you, his beloved wife.. his home.
tags: Venator x Reader, whipped men that love their wives, deadlock, kind of amgsty? but mostly just fluff.
tw: mentions of arguments... that's it really, average marriage conflicts.
The night was quiet.
But not the quiet you enjoyed, no. Your husband hadn't returned yet wich made you more worried a problem that caused countless nights where you cried in his arms, begging him to not go the next day. You knew it would happen again the next day, that your husband, no matter how much he loved you, he couldn't turn a blind eye to the innocent.
With each tick of the clock's hand. You counted the hours, the minutes... no the seconds until he returned to you.
The clock arm striked 12 and the clock started it's chime, you couldn't help but feel nothing but sadness wich each note. Wondering if this is the night where your husband doesn't return to you.
You sigh and let your head lean back, closing your eyes, hoping the burning would subside. But just then, you hear a click as the front door opens and comes in a big looming shadow.
This shadow scares many, disgusts many, but to you—that shadow brought you safety. That shadow after all belonged to Your husband.
He stepped in, the day clear in the crease between his eyebrows and the way his shoulders were tensed so tightly as he started to shed off his equipment.
His eye met yours and you could see him soften, as if the sight of you alone was enough to erase the bloodshed memories of the day.
His gruff voice, rough, scratching against his throat muttering out a simple "You're awake." It sounded guilty, he knew it was his fault after all, after you admitted to him in one of the many arguments that nightmares plague your mind from his absence. He couldn't help but blame himself.
"I was waiting for you.." her voice was soft and quiet, barely breaking through the room's silence.
His eyes soften further, guilt clear in them and he makes his way to you. His footsteps heavy on the floor as he gathers whatever strength so he can reah you.
He kneels infront of you and places his head in your lap, wrapping his arms around your waist, he lets the day melt off his shoulders now that he finally reached you. Your smell invades his nostrils and he remembered how truly horrible it was to leave you this morning.
"I am sorry My love... I am sorry for making you wait so long." His voice was so vulnerable, so soft, as if his hands aren't stained with blood.
You lift your hands and cup his face, your soft fingers a vast contrast to his leathery burned skin. You trace his face and he let's out a shuddering, shaking breathe. It was clear you had quite the effect on him sadly it wasn't enough to change his mind.
He looks up at you, his eyes pleading for something he himself does not quite know either. He searches your face— for forgiveness? He's not sure either, whenever he's with you he doesn't know anything but the feel of your warmth against him.
"I am just glad you came back in one piece..." you wanted to argue, you truly did. But the way he looked at you, it was only going to hurt you both if you were to argue now.
You lifted his face and he followed, letting you push and pull him as you please. You bring his face till it's right infront of yours and you lean in, closing whatever distance is left between you.
He's so soft and gentle with you, as if you're one of god's angels themselves, that if he were to truly take any semblance of control you would be tainted — destroyed — And he couldn't bear that. So he molds himself into something he is not, forces his body into submission, turns his instincts to kill and punish off just for you.
His hands, trembling as they are, reach for you —hesitant. They hold your face so gently you mistook them for a ghost's hands. He doesn't break the kiss no, he let's you control it all so when you do break it he stares at you with such lovestruck eyes.
You got caught off guard by the look on his face and your face flushes and you look away, he lower his hand to your chin and gently turns your head back to him. "God... you're beautiful."
He admires you for a moment longer before you hear his rough voice speak up again. "So beautiful that I'd mistake you for one of god's angels. You're truly a blessing I never truly deserved..."
You let out a small breathy chuckle he feels pride spread inside him at the sound of it. "Did I marry a priest... or a poet?" You tease and he smiles.
He pushes a stray unruly hair behind your ear and you both sit there, both enjoying the small quiet moment between you both.
"Let's go to bed, I truly cannot pretend that I am not tired any longer..." He smiles and stands up, just when you were about to stand up you feel big burly hands underneath you scooping you up into his chest.
A small gasp escaped you as you looked up at your husband's face and smiled, resting your head on his chest where his heart slept in his chest and close your eyes, knowing that now you are safe.
(CW: He breaks into your house? Other than that, him being an ass but still fluff)
———————————————————————————————————
The trial was exhausting, to say the least.
The constant shift of balance in the lanes made you wonder if it would ever end, but thankfully your team defeated the other team's patron. Your team wanted to go out to get drinks to celebrate, but you politely declined. All you wanted right now was to collapse into bed and let sleep take you away. As you dragged yourself back into the hideout and up the stairs to your room, you paused as your hand held onto the door knob. You could hear something…someone? Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear what sounded like snoring. You slowly opened the door to find a massive shape covering the entirety of your bed, which would have terrified you, if not for the small beam of moonlight that revealed who this intruder was.
“Damn it, Drifter…”
You rubbed your eyes tiredly as you sighed. The Drifter had been a constant pain in your side since you arrived in New York. No matter what side you were on during the ritual, he always seemed to make it his mission to irritate you. And now, he was passed out in your bed. You close the window he had opened to let himself in, before moving to his side. His hat was tilted down over his face, with his blood stained hands behind his head. Even sleeping, he looked smug.
“Drifter, come on.” You murmured tapping his shoulder. But there was no reaction.
“Come on, man. You gotta get up-“ you shook his shoulder a bit more. Nothing.
Irritation was clouding over your drowsiness. You put both hands onto his shoulder and shook more aggressively.
“Drifter-!” You hissed out, trying not to wake any others in the hide out.
Suddenly, he shifted, stretching out his arms and nearly scratching your face with his claws before you backed away. He yawned, revealing his sharp fangs in the dimly lit room, before he turned over to resume his rest. You sighed, this wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Reluctantly, you took a spare blanket hanging off one of your chairs as you trudged back down the stairs.
The city lights twinkled through the massive window overlooking New York, as you made your way over to the couch by the fireplace. The warmth from it and its occasional crackle or snap was somewhat comforting, you thought to yourself. You hoped you could get somewhat of a decent sleep without messing up your back, as you pulled the blanket over top of you and closed your eyes. Slowly, you began to relax, and you could feel yourself drifting away…
But that peace only lasted for about half an hour.
You’re not quite sure what awoke you, the slight swaying sensation, or the smell of dried blood. But as you opened your eyes, you found yourself being carried back upstairs by the vampire. You all but jolted up, preparing to scramble out of his hold, but he just held you closer in response.
“Easy there~” he drawled, his voice rumbling through his chest and against your cheek. “I’d been waitin’ for you all night and where do I find you? Lookin’ all pitiful on the couch.”
He chuckled, making your face flush.
“Just put me down, alright?” You murmured back in reply, your voice still thick with exhaustion. “I’m too tired to deal with your shit right now.”
He grinned as he shook his head, amused.
“You really think I’m gonna let you go now? Nah, darlin’ you’re all mine tonight.”
You could barely get another protest in before he kicked your bedroom door open, as he unceremoniously laid back down on your bed with a satisfied sigh. You, still held against his chest like an iron maiden, tried to squirm your way out with no luck.
“You best get comfortable-” He said, leaning close to your ear so his beard brushed against the side of your face. “We gonna be here for a looong time~”
He chuckled again to himself, ruffling your hair with a massive hand, before continuing to keep you in a locked embrace. Despite your initial irritation, you began to feel exhaustion start to creep in once more, as the gentle rise and fall of Drifter’s breathing lulled you towards sleep. It was strange, seeing him like this. You were used to his bloodlust, the way he pestered you for hours on end. And even with this annoyance, there was almost…affection behind it? You yawned quietly, unconsciously curling up a bit closer as your eyes became half lidded, before closing altogether completely.
so let's say, theoretically, somebody was writing a hurt(? I guess) fic about doorman where he gets his ass kicked.
...or like. half his face ripped / melted off...
who would you like to see help patch Doorman up 🤍
Drifter
Victor
Pocket
Mina
Infernus
Other (comment)
Voting ended onMay 6
NOTE: I BASICALLY JUST INCLUDED CHARACTERS I HAVE SEEN PEOPLE SHIP WITH DOORMAN FREQUENTLY + FAVES OF MINE IN THIS BECAUSE I HAVE A VAGUE IDEA OF HOW I WOULD WRITE THESE CHARACTERS
Imagine if apollo and Graves graduated, but about a year after the ritual, Apollo's father died abd he was forced to ascend to king. But a few months after, Graves dies as well from a magick mishap. Tbjs leaves apollo alone with nobody, the two people ge loved most are dead...
But what if Graves wasn't really gone?
Anyway, I've been having fun writing! I've got two chapters on my doc so far!! Woo!!!
