a/n: not to sound like a prep but I LOVE HUGS! I tried so hard to be succinct in this one, I know I ramble too much.
Arora
Arora knows how to cordially give hugs. Very polite. She knows exactly how much to relax her limbs to make it seem natural without making it awkward. She knows exactly how long a hug should last.
So her hugs are weird. They are exactly the same, every time.
You tell her that maybe she should use her learning algorithm to learn how to give better hugs, and it makes her laugh because she thinks you're joking.
You are not joking.
She tells you, fine, teach her how to hug.
When you first hug her, she's stiff. She's reading the fine details of the hug. How much pressure you apply, where your hands go, how long it lasts, things like that.
She eventually relaxes and hugs you back, mimicking your habits rather than actually returning the hug.
You do manage to give her advice on giving better hugs, and she also reads one’s mood before the hug.
She’ll always be stiff when someone initially hugs her, but that’s because she’s figuring out how to adjust her return hug. Her return will always be pleasant, but without real genuinity.
Charlie Disco
He loves wrap his arms all the way around you when he can.
Typically, Charlie’s hugs are tight and always full of warmth.
He’s the kind of guy to wait until you pull away. After all, he wants to make sure his friends get the hugs they want.
He’s always quick to reciprocate a hug, typically with a chuckle.
Affection is treated pretty casually with him, so he’s always ready to hug someone, as long as he even vaguely knows them.
(Type of guy to embrace someone, even if he only knew them for five minutes ten years ago)
If he senses that someone might need a longer hug, he’ll obviously give exactly what’s needed. You stay in his embrace and he rubs your back until you’re ready to let go.
A lot of his friends don’t like hugs (cough HEMLOCK & DEX cough cough), so he’s always a little surprised to receive one out of the blue. He’ll never complain though.
Deckard “Dex” Voltaire
Dex doesn’t really do… “hugs.” Very much against it. He also doesn’t let his guard down often.
But of course he still feels the pull towards you. He doesn’t admit it, but he loves you dearly. That pull is always there.
But on that rare occasion where he feels relaxed enough, the most you’ll get is him leaning his weight against you. It’s a big sign of trust for him.
He won’t ever acknowledge that he’s doing it, and if you do, he’ll immediately pull away.
But he hopes that won’t be the case. His mind finally slows down when he’s close to you like that.
If he gets a hug, his immediate instinct is to push the hugger away. Even if it’s his s/o, the instinct takes over.
Then, of course, he’s embarrassed that he pushed you away. He doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t want your affection. He just doesn’t know how to accept it.
Hemlock
Spin hugs, without a doubt. You jump into his arms and he lifts you off your feet and spins. Of course, anyone who isn’t his s/o will get an unnecessarily hard clap on the shoulder. They tell him to stop doing it, and yet he cannot be stopped.
If you stay in his arms too long, he’ll lift you onto his shoulder. He loves to lug you around in the least romantic way possible.
Yes, he can princess carry you. But fireman carrying you is way funnier.
If it’ll irritate you, he’ll do it. Obviously, Hemlock wants you happy, but making you a little irritated is, again, way funnier.
When it comes to receiving hugs, he’ll act like it’s a big deal. Usually, he pushes people off him and tells them not to get sappy.
However the hell he blushes, he’ll do that if you hug him in front of his friends/bandmates.
“C’mon, babe, I got a reputation to uphold here!”
Prophet
The biggest and warmest hugs.
People can be bad at hugs and people can be good at hugs. Whenever Prophet hugs you, it comes to your mind that he might just be a professional.
He’s the kind of guy that you can just sink into once his arms wrap around you.
And the thing is, he loves to hug you. He loves to protect you.
Hugging you in front of others is no problem to him. He likes to let people know you’re close with him.
When hugged by a friend, he’s always pleasantly surprised. Not the type of guy to push someone away unless he doesn’t know them.
Prophet won’t ever pick you up, but if you’re interrupting a conversation for a hug or maybe he just wants to introduce you to someone, he’ll keep his arm over your shoulder after the hug.
He also enjoys pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Call it cheesy, but how can you argue with a man in love?
I need more Royce Hemlock content he's so interesting 😭😭😭 i finished the bad batch a few weeks ago and he's such a freak omg.... And we didn't even get to know what was wrong with his hand
No other sight in the entire galaxy will ever be more satisfying than this.
Royce Hemlock, wide-eyed and on his knees at your request, in your medbay.
His short-winded intakes of air are no match for your own leveled breathing; you’re composed and still, as you loom above him, twirling a small strand of his hair between a finger and letting it fall out of place over his forehead. Create an image of imperfection and disheveledness he never wears and you never get to see.
“Doctor, I do not see the need in kicking me down to the ground like this–”
“Shut up,” You snap back, a permanent scowl etched on your face as you lift his chin. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m sick of it.”
There’s a pout on his face, similar to that familiar neutral expression he tends to wear often, but not close enough. Besides the typical sociopathic, emotionless fascination with the most inhumane things, there's true emotion behind that face at this moment.
“You’re going to address me as your superior,” you instruct, pinching his chin between two fingers. “And you’re going to do as I say. Understood?”
Hemlock takes a few moments to respond before nodding slowly and gulping hard.
“Understood.”
You feign a sweet smile and ruffle his hair, backing up to press your back onto the wall. Curling a finger toward yourself, you tilt your head and wink.
“Crawl.”
He takes his sweet time as if he’s still internally debating himself on the matter. He’s mortified, you see it in the eyes; though that tent in his pants tells you all you need to know.
Once he finally reaches your pelvis, he tilts his eyes up with a spiteful expression as if he hates this. His reputation would be in shambles if someone were to hear your instructions and pitiful coos through the thin walls.
“Open your mouth.”
Yet he seems to resign quickly.
A wad of spit drops onto his tongue.
“Don’t swallow yet.”
He keeps his tongue stuck out for you to examine until you’ve finished.
“You can swallow now.”
He does quickly with your authorization, taking a deep breath afterward and letting his eyes flutter close.
“Lick me,” you sigh out, tilting your head back as you spread your legs. He leans forward and shamefully opens his mouth, licking right over the seam of your pants, where your center lies covered.
The act itself is sloppy and rushed, obscene, brings you only the slimmest bit of pleasure, but he’s ever so obedient, and that itself sends all the heat to rush to your sex. He makes no sound. Not a peep from that throat. You flick the side of his head.
“Won’t you make some noise?” You tease, trying not to smile all sly and satisfied; that’s how you feel, however. He knows so.
“I–” he begins, voice dying with no real direction of thought. You click your tongue.
“If you have nothing to retort with, just do what I ask without “It isn’t so hard to not be a brat.”
“Right,” he answers rather quickly. Swiping his tongue over his bottom lip barely saves him from dehydration while he darts out to
How degrading, you coo to yourself, watching him shamelessly grind his face against your clothes and finally letting out the meekest of whimpers.
You tug on the locks of his hair.
“Louder,” is all you instruct.
He tries, but it’s not enough.
“Little louder.”
You press a thumb onto the pressure point by his collarbone and elicit a long wail out of his throat.
“That’s it.”
A knock on the door startles the both of you. Hemlock turns in horror, the thumping of his heart audible even to you as he lifts a knee off the ground and tries to push himself up.
You press a hand on his shoulder blade, forcing him down to his knees again.
“You haven't finished here yet,” you click your chin down as if gesturing him to look, look at what you’re neglecting.
“I know those voices,” he retorts, voice smaller than you expect. “You know those voices.”
You do; it’s Emerie and your assistant accompanied by melodic steps, getting louder by the second. Hemlock’s eyes widen, pleading silently to you.
In the face of salvation, you lean down and gesture for him to stick his tongue again. As you leave another wad of spit on the tip and have him curl it back into his mouth, you giggle and tilt your head with a begging question.
“Want to greet them?”
His mouth falls agape. You curl it close with a finger.
“Want to show them how good you’ve been for me? How disgusting?”
He shuffles on his knees, rubbing his legs together in an almost vindictive matter. You coo and nod.
“Yeah, you do,” there’s no need for him to answer himself. “You get off on this just as much as I do.”
The door creaks open and the previous conversation dissolves once their eyes lock on the two of you. Their stare dances on your skin and sends you reeling in satisfaction. Your gaze barely lingers on the expressions etched on each of their faces as you shuck nonexistent dirt off your top and stand up straight, the doctor still kneeling ashamed by your feet.
“Sorry for my improperness,” You tell them, no longer paying Hemlock any attention. “Would you two walk with me outside? Dr. Hemlock will wait in here.”
This request might be a little dirty... But instead of making their loved ones excited, what do they do to make each member of the band excited?
How Reader gets members of Dead As Disco excited?
Now YOU get to get them turned on!
cw: very suggestive of course, AnyPOV
(MDNI, this post is NSFW)
a/n: I rub my evil hands together when I get to write NSFW. I actually worked this in backwards order: not because I immediately knew what to do with Prophet, but bc I needed to do the age old “just enter a flow state and see what you've written afterwards.” Enjoy!
Arora
As a “perfect” AI, Arora doesn’t really need to try for anything. She’s programmed with perfect dances. She’s programmed with perfect pitch. She’s programmed with perfect etiquette.
Not only that, but people are always trying to make sure she’s happy. Fans shower her in gifts, Harmony will give her any reasonable demand because they think she’ll go back to what she was meant to do: spying on the band for them.
Because of this, one might think that she likes to be given what she wants. Maybe she likes when you get on your knees and treat her as a goddess.
This is untrue, despite her divinity complex.
Arora hasn’t really ever been given a challenge, so she loves when you tell her “make me.” She loves having to put in the effort.
You intercept her hands, and her eyes narrow. You set the pace and rules, and she learns a workaround to get you going, but truth is, you already have her processors firing.
“Rori, what’s that sound?”
“My cooling fans. They usually only come on when I’m dancing.”
She feels no reason to lie about how much you affect her. She calls you naughty and makes promises along the lines of “when I get my hands on you” and all that.
The truth is, however, that she likes this game. She likes to see you hold out on her, and she likes trying to find a way past your defenses.
Charlie Disco
Charlie loves it when you whisper sweetly in his ear. You come up from behind and let your breath ghost his ear and he’s yours in an instant.
It’s almost silly, how easily this works with him. You once whispered the word “champagne” in his ear just to see if it would work, and it did. He shivered.
When you laughed, he pulled away and rubbed at his ear, getting embarrassed. “It’s a sexy word, okay?”
No sense in letting that go to waste, right?
So you like to whisper in his ear at inconvenient times. You're a menace during rehearsals, because you manage to sneak behind him, and the moment that he isn't playing, you whisper teasingly at him. If he’s chatting with friends, you’ll move beside him and disturb him.
It doesn't matter when you do it, though, he'll always smile. If you do it enough times, he’ll lock you in a hug and kiss you hard, even in front of the others.
This has disturbed practice once or twice, but he always promises that he’ll make you pay afterwards.
Deckard “Dex” Voltaire
Forgive me for thinking that the man who did nothing but play guitar for ten years is touch starved.
Seriously, the only time he ever was touched by someone else since taking Harmony’s contract was when people would install the body mods on him.
He also doesn’t like to beat around the bush. He doesn’t want you to act coy. If you want something from him, just be straightforward about it. There’s no patience for him to play around.
So you have to try a few things. It takes a bit to find something that really connects with Dex.
However, one day while he’s playing guitar, you sit behind him and let your fingers skim across his body. They trail up his arms, down his spine, around his waist and to his chest, where they linger.
However, he stops playing and tells you to knock it off.
“Do you hate it?”
“No.”
“???”
You realize he’s keeping his head turned from you. You catch the blush creeping up to his wear. Oh. Is he getting… excited? You rest your head on his shoulder blade and continue to let your fingers run along his skin. You feel him tremble for a moment.
If you’re doing this while he’s trying to practice (which is almost always), he’ll usually pretty suddenly pull away from you and get up.
You think you did something wrong, but he just sets Ragnarock in its holder before returning to sit beside you. Yes, he’s still blushing. It doesn’t stop him from telling you to do all that again.
You take your time touching him gently. You lay him down and watch him shudder underneath you. You watch his breathing get heavier as he gets antsier under you
This is probably the longest you’ll get him away from the guitar. It’s the only time he’ll stop and pull the music out of his head so he can focus on your touch.
Hemlock
“Oh no, I dropped something!”
You purposefully drop something in front of Hemlock. You bend down to pick it up, and you make sure he sees your ass.
He's behind you in an instant. If he pulls you back against him, you can feel him getting hard.
I think of Hemlock as a simpler man: it doesn't take much to get him going, but he immediately cranks it up to 11 the moment he sees your ass.
He stares, he slaps, he fondles.
Loves when you wear a skirt, either flowy or tight. It just means it’s easier to get to your ass.
If you're particularly short, he'll love that shit, because it means you have to bend over everything. The bartop, a top-loading washing machine, the desk he inconveniently moved beside the bookshelf you like to peruse.
Part of you wonders if he isn't filling his space with gigantic furniture just for that purpose. It's because he is.
He loves seeing you sit places you shouldn't be sitting, like countertops or tables. He'll pin you to them in an instant, if given the chance.
He doesn't care if your ass is firm or flabby, he's grabbing it.
Prophet
I feel as though this guy doesn't necessarily get horny a lot, but he has a pretty high libido, so he's always ready to go the moment you want to.
So, you struggle for awhile, figuring out how to get under this guy's skin. He's always so confident, so on top of things.
You even ask him outright how to get him horny, and it makes him laugh.
“You don't gotta try so hard, baby. I'm always ready for you.”
Does not help your case. Back to the drawing board.
You actually discover the answer by total accident. Prophet picks you up from whatever you're doing, asking if you want to spend the night at his place. He has the day off tomorrow and wants to spend it with you.
You tell him that you need to pack some things first, but he tells you it's unnecessary. “I have a spare toothbrush for you. You can borrow my clothes, if you want.”
It's not until after you two have eaten and are getting ready for bed that you notice a change in Prophet: he's staring, his eyes are dark, and that confident, friendly smirk isn't there anymore. It looks like he's trying really hard to remember something he forgot.
You manage to get him back to the present, and you ask him what's wrong.
He tells you it's nothing, but his eyes wander towards the window as he sits on his bed. Then he tells you that he never noticed how much bigger he was than you until you put on his clothes.
It turns out that he loves to be reminded how much bigger he is compared to you. I mean, Charlie is 6’2”, but next to Prophet, he looks like he's 4’. Dude is tall.
So he loves to see his clothes hang off of you. He loves to stand next to you and see you strain your next just to look up at him. He loves how easily he can wrap you up in his arms. He has you lay down, and he puts his hands on you, and it's almost funny how easily he holds you.
His favorite thing to do is play with the size dynamic. Prophet brings it up a lot.
“I need you to stay still for me, baby. I don't wanna break you.”
How would the members of Dead as Disco get you hot and bothered?
Alright, enough silly stuff. How are these guys getting you off?
cw: obviously very suggestive (so MDNI), but I don't think I talk about anything explicit. Unspecified POV. Got REALLY carried away in Dex's section.
a/n: SEND ME REQUESTS I only have one after this. Do you really want me to make a post about how each member plays Minecraft?
Arora
Her favorite thing to do is to come up from behind and just let her hands wander. She'll rest her chin on your shoulder and smile at you while she does it.
You try to tell her that she doesn't need to pretend that she's doing this to learn something. If she wants to touch you, she can.
However, she feigns innocence because she loves to do that.
"Hm? What do you mean?" Meanwhile, she's done this so many times that she knows exactly where to let her hands linger to make your breath hitch.
She keeps you locked in her embrace until you're trembling, and at that point, it's about how well you beg her to finish the job.
If you don't beg well enough, she might not be inclined to start the main show!
Charlie Disco
Charlie is kissing you everywhere.
He smiles at you and motions you to sit next to him, but the moment you do, he latches onto you like a koala. It's a miracle you didn't see how desperate he was before you showed up.
You're getting pulled as close to him as possible. He's hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he breathes in your scent.
His lips wander across your skin, occasionally letting his teeth ghost and nip at you just to feel you jump in his hands.
He will lick you. Usually in the sexy places, don't worry, but not always.
Typically, it's him asking if you guys can just "get to the good stuff already" so no begging required.
He definitely wouldn't mind if you did, though. Don't let his impatience stop you.
Deckard "Dex" Voltaire
Stuff like this isn't really Dex's strong suit.
(part of this is because I headcanon him as asexual, but hush)
And any non-music related skill is different from his guitar practic habits: He can strum and pluck the strings to his guitar over and over for hours, but if he isn't perfect on the first go for a non-music skill, he's unlikely to try it again. He'll fall back on his guitar skills.
"I already have this. Why try anything else?"
But for all those years he spent hooked up to the city's generator, he forgot that there was a man under The Machine. He forgot that he could sate your desires.
At first he thinks that he’ll try something with his fingers. Touching you, seeing what places make your body stutter.
But he doesn’t immediately get results, and it embarrasses and frustrates him.
You of course try to tell him that you can guide him, but he wants to do it himself. “Just tell me if I’m doing something wrong.” You’re like a puzzle he’s afraid of not solving, and he's refusing any hints.
He can’t use words to get you hot and bothered either. He doesn’t know which ones to say, and he’s terrible at setting the mood (seriously, he’s gonna be crossing his arms and looking the other way as he speaks. Not terribly sexy).
But after thinking about it (and feeling a little desperate himself, not that he’d admit it), Dex comes up to you in private and just starts kissing you. It’s not exactly subtle.
But it’s effective, at least. He kisses you like he needs you to breathe, which ironically puts you both out of breath.
But he likes it, because it's immediate, and he doesn't have to watch for a reaction. He'll know he's doing well when your hands wander, and when you moan against his lips.
He's a rough kisser, but he can be gentle if he wants. However, his goal is always to get you horny as fast as possible, so he'll do whichever kiss does that. Up to your own preference.
Hemlock
Oh, there’s nothing he loves more than to pin you against a wall and make you hump his thigh to get yourself off.
He can’t kiss you, and sometimes that makes him a little insecure.
But there’s nothing more empowering than watching you beg and fall apart without him needing to do a thing.
But he’s for sure pulling his weight. He loves to talk dirty to you. I’d be inclined to believe he doesn’t even KNOW how to do the sweet nothings thing.
Hemlock loves to feel the evidence of you getting turned on through his pants. He acts upset if you leave a stain, but he secretly loves that stuff.
He's normally a very impatient guy, but just to see you fall apart, he exercises as much restraint as possible.
Expect a hand under your chin so he can force your face up towards his. He wants to see every little reaction he gets out of you.
Prophet
He’s the kind of man who could talk a bear down, with a voice like that. It’s warm and it lures you in. He knows that.
So he loves to have you sit in his lap while he whispers all the things he wants to do to you.
His fingers will sometimes wander close to where you want him to touch, but he never fully commits. He just smiles and watches you get all huffy and he makes commentary out of it.
“Are you getting antsy, baby?” His breath would brush against your ear like a ghost.
Only when you ask nice enough does he properly touch you. He doesn’t let you do it yourself. He’ll hold your hands in one of his while he plays with you.
Chances are, even before he gets to you properly, he'll make you come just from the touching and whispering first. Hope you have some stamina to you!
headcanons on what wedding theme each idol would have when they get married?
To Have and To Hold
“I love you more than ever, more than time and more than love.” - Bob Dylan’s Wedding Song
cw: These are so cute you might just explode, so be careful of that. Slight angst (with happy ending) in Arora’s section. Pre-tour timeline in Dex’s section. Mentions of alcohol consumption in Hemlock’s section.
a/n: I’m actually not a wedding girlie at ALL so I asked my friend for help, and dawg, my friend cooked. Not a crumb left.
Arora
Small out of necessity
In an ideal world, Arora would have a big wedding with all of her found family (the band). It would be loud and fun and colorful, because she wants to give you everything she can.
However, no amount of delusion—no amount of mood boards or late night talks or imaginary itinerary—would ever allow that to be real.
At the end of the day, she belongs to Harmony. They made her. If she got married, their stocks would plummet, and her fans would fume with jealousy and betrayal (as if they ever had the right to do such a thing).
So the closest thing that she can get away with while avoiding Harmony’s gaze is a hushed affair backstage.
It’s a greenroom that she and the other band members decorated and surprised you with.
When you walk in, she watches your expression closely. She’s smiling, but she still feels anxious. She’s waiting for that look of disappointment to cross your face.
But how could you possibly be disappointed? You realize that she’s wearing a white outfit for tonight’s show.
She’s been planning this for awhile.
Hemlock suddenly barges in, startling you from your awed reaction. You didn’t even realize that you were near tears until he suddenly, loudly announced himself, presenting a set of matching earrings.
She could never get away with hiding a ring, not under the sharp eyes of her fans and creators. But no one would bat an eye if she had some diamonds sparkling from her ears.
It finally, truly clicks for you what this is. Her own little version of the wedding you two had fantasized about. The closest thing to a dream wedding that reality would allow you two.
Hemlock is the one to officiate the marriage. You don’t know if he’s actually registered to do it, but it’s comforting to both participants to hear the familiar, gravelly voice of Hemlock announce you both as a pair.
Vows are quick, and the kiss she gives you is chaste, but you still feel the depth of her sincerity even in the swift actions that are done before you can properly cherish them.
She’s whisked away before you can hold her close, but that kiss still lingers with you. Her words remain close to your heart long after she’s gone.
It had been quick. One might even call the wedding impersonable, but you know the truth.
Every time you watch her take the stage, no matter how far you are, you can see those diamonds she wears catching the light, glinting her true self through all her fame and glamour.
Charlie Disco
Big and classic
It takes time for Charlie to show preference over one person in his life over another. When he forms a bond, he means it, thick or thin.
In that same vein, he’s a little hard to impress.
This, however, has never stopped your pursuit of him.
Charlie has never been a solo act and he never wanted to be either. He’s receptive.
When you’re alone together, you somehow manage to draw out a special side of him. Everyone knows the warm familiarity of Charlie’s smile and loyalty, but not just anyone knows that specific glint in his eye when he sizes up someone who matches his rhythm flawlessly. You know it well.
It’s a special look he gives you—the way his eyes wander to you when he’s performing, the graceful and subtle way he signs his affections to you when the group conversation drifts.
He’s classic, and with that, classy.
When he proposes, it’s perfect: a night of good food, good drink, and excellent music paired with excellent dancing. You had already been out of breath just keeping up with him, but all the air steals from your lungs when Charlie wordlessly gets down on one knee in the middle of the dancefloor. He sends you a mischievous but earnest wink.
Your wedding is no different from the proposal, just perfect.
There’s an aisle, thrown rice, and live music. He picks your favorite venue and fills the place with enough chairs to make sure everyone you’ve ever loved could participate. He even matches you in a white suit, and yet he keeps his signature lowcut shirt and popped collar. It wouldn’t be Charlie without it.
He feeds you cake and laughs when you shove his slice in his face. While you sit together, he teases guests in your ear, and you both have to hold back your laughter.
It makes you forgive that he got an open bar, resulting in drunken dance offs between you two and the rest of the band.
Against the two of you, they don’t stand a chance.
Deckard “Dex” Voltaire
No wedding - not needed
Just getting to the point where Dex feels comfortable enough to marry you takes ages, but every second is worth it.
Every dismissive look, every shrug, every conversation cut short by his laser focus to his craft… It's all worth it to get to this point.
It always seemed as though he had no one in his corner, so by god, you stayed in that corner through it all. You brought him meals when he wouldn’t pull away from his guitar long enough to eat. You draped a blanket over him when he passed out from exhaustion.
Your little efforts weren’t one-sided, either. More than once, he would mumble about a song he made for you, or play you some melodies he was working on. Sharing his unfinished works is the ultimate show of trust for him.
He silently tells you through this that your opinion matters to him, more than all the people telling him that he’s meant to be a perfect little guitarist.
When you asked how to play the melodies he showed you, he didn’t stop at showing you. He guided your fingers to the strings of his guitar and gently moved your fingertips down the neck. It’s a strangely intimate moment, and that’s when he realizes that he does want to marry you. He wants to spend any moment he can with you.
Dex already knew that he loved you, of course. When he sees you tearing up the mosh pit, you would get him to genuinely smile. You get him to be vulnerable. You make him feel human, and he doesn’t want to lose that.
During one of those nights when he sees you in the pit, he finally gets the courage to do what he’s been meaning to do.
He waits until a break between sets, and then he pulls you back behind a curtain to slip a modest, black iron ring on your finger. You see his hands are shaky and he refuses to make eye-contact, opting instead to return to the stage and pretend he didn’t just rock your world.
There’s no actual wedding. The planning alone would stress him out impossibly more than he already is, and in turn stress you out too. Perfection haunts you both, and you’d prefer those expectations didn’t touch your love for each other.
Instead, you match his wordless approach and leave the paperwork to file a marriage certificate together on his guitar case.
Going to the courthouse together is similarly wordless. The fingers of his free hand move as if he’s still playing his guitar, but you take his calloused hand in your own when the judge pronounces you wed.
Dex takes you to your favorite restaurant afterwards. It’s the longest he’s been without Ragnarock, but today? For you? He makes the effort.
Hemlock
Elopement
It just happens one night when the both of you are partying. The bass is pounding and his blood is hot and so is yours. He stares intently at you before leaning in.
“We. Should. Get. Married.”
You’re a little drunk yourself, but even if you weren’t, you would have said yes. You’ve always wanted to marry him.
So when you say yes, he scoops you up and takes you, kicking and laughing, to a Vegas-style insta-chapel. He takes all of his punk rocker friends and fans with him too.
The classic white of the cheap venue gets totally eviscerated by both him and the company. However, the proprietors know better than to try and bill him for the many, many damages.
The entire event isn’t fancy. The two of you can barely remember it. But there’s no regret from either of you. It’s somehow the perfect wedding.
The whole fever dream of a night becomes a foggy memory of bad decisions and laughter so hard it burns like screams.
You’re pretty sure the ringing in your ears is from shredding whatever instrument inevitably ended up in your hands that night, a discordant and legendary harmony between yourself and your new cheaply anointed spouse.
Prophet
Block party wedding
When Prophet proposes to you, it’s a secret, special moment between just the two of you. He’s a major player not just in the neighborhood, but in the city as a whole. He’s shaped countless lives.
And yet, despite this, he kneels before you like any man would. It’s quiet and it’s so, so intimate.
The party after you say yes, though? It’s anything but. It’s a party that shakes the world.
In regards to the wedding itself, absolutely no expense is spared. Every corner on Dead End Drive is either decked out in bling and lights to celebrate, or blasting fresh beats that reflect the joy everyone has for their resident hero and mentor. The block party wedding is so legendary that the power grid is almost knocked out.
Your wedding outfits compliment each other, but they don’t match perfectly. He wants you to shine as yourself when you take the stage with him.
His vows are deep with the love he has for you. He promises to protect you at every turn. His neighborhood supported him since childhood, and he would show you the same support in turn.
Once you two kiss and exchange your rings, he calls for the party to really start. Dancing and bass and voices in harmony fill the street until well past sunrise.
You know that, with him by your side, the rollercoaster would never stop.
Hello and welcome to my Dead as Disco x reader blog! Feel free to call me Yakuza (yeah... the japanese mafia) or Sherry, if you don't wanna do that. This is actually my first time attempting to regularly post on Tumblr in such a manner, so if my posts look chopped, that's why. You only learn through experience!
Currently no schedule due to motivation issus + feeling out the process. This is my first time trying something like this so be patient, please!
Do's
FemPOV or AnyPOV
I've written fanfiction since probably before highschool. This is just what I'm most familiar with! In fact, I might mess up AnyPOV, but I'll just make sure I proofread those to try and avoid this mistake.
(N)SFW
I an an adult... and I'm only a woman...
Many dynamics!
This is not limited to romantic! You can also request platonic or familial dynamics! (or a secret other thing I missed...?)
Headcanons
This is something I'd like to mostly do! Bulleted points, no strict story flow, just some ideas thrown on the metaphorical paper!
One-shots
This would be a short story with a plot! Longer, no bulleted lists! Feel free to check my AO3 for ideas on my writing. One-shots should only contain one shipped person UNLESS it's a polyarmorous relationship. Just feel free to send a second request, if you want one plotline for multiple people!
Chatting!
I would love to get to know some folks and talk about headcanons. You're free to even disagree with me in the comments of posts, as long as you keep it civil!
Don'ts
Canon x Canon
Sorry, discomachine lovers (I am discomachine lovers...). I just want to keep the sanctity of the blog and keep it for reader inserts only!
Unrealeased Idols
I just don't feel comfortable with them! But fret not, as soon as idols release and I've done their fights/quests, I will add them to the list!
Explicit depictions of drug (ab)use, violence, or gore
I just don't feel comfortable with it :( And I'd rather not misrepresent anything. I will, of course, stay with canon-typical violence, but not any gore. Canon-typical violence will be tagged when applicable!
Problematic topics
Things targeting minors in inappropriate manners is mostly what I mean by this bullet! Will add more when they come up.
MalePOV
For as many times as I've been disappointed by a man, I don't want to return that energy, so I'd rather keep my thumb out of that pie. I'm not a man, and I don't really wanna write for one.
18+ blog!
While not all of my posts will be, I fully intend to get into adult topics, so the blog will be 18+. If I remember, there'll be a warning at the start of each post.
Right to refuse
I maintain the right to refuse to do a request that gets sent in. Sometimes, I'm just not comfortable with a topic, and I don't need to justify myself to people on Tumblr dot com.
Busy life
I work! I stream! My life outside of Tumblr means I won't be online all the time, and requests might be slow. I'll do my best to get around to them eventually, though.
Anti-AI
I am against the use of generative AI. I don't use it for my writing, and I'll warn to NOT feed my writing to AI. Sucks that this warning is even needed, but we live in a new era.
About me art done by me, icons done by lambmortician, post headers are official Dead as Disco art by the people working at Brain Jar Games.
Can I request how Dex, Prophet and Hemlock (separate) will be with a fem lover who is fed up with Harmony's bullshit and how their lover turned out ?
Like, instead of Charlie, it's reader who beats up the guys to bring them to reason.
Thanks
Knock The Sense Into Me
cw: FemPOV. Canon-typical violence. Angst. Relationship issues. Messy timeline in Hemlock's section. VERY long (i’m sorry).
a/n: An excuse to write a fight scene? Three of them?! My only regret is not being able to write four. I didn’t walk you beat by beat through the fights, but I do linger on them more than I should have (another reason this one took forever…). But I kept thinking, how do I end Prophet’s fight without dropping a mic on him??
Deckard “Dex” Voltaire
You really felt betrayed when you realized that Dex had sold out to Harmony.
One day he was with you, and the next day, you had a cold space where he used to be.
He didn't consult you, he didn't warn you. Dex just left you, and it caused a cold anger to wash over you.
It didn't take much for you to hear what they'd done to him, of course. Hell, Harmony promoted how they, as a music label company, managed to provide the city with clean energy with only the energy created from playing the guitar. Dex was on the cover of that.
At first, a terrible and bitter part of you thought that he deserved it. He finally got to be “perfect,” whatever that meant for him.
Your immediate thought caused you to feel guilty, and so you let him go to achieve his perfection. You never got to see him whenever you tried to physically go there, anyway.
However, the longer this goes on, the more you start to lose your friends. They all sell out one by one until you’re the only one who goes to The Encore anymore.
Eventually, the loneliness gets to you. You look out of one of The Encore’s windows and spot the Harmony building looming nearby.
They took everything they could get their hands on. You might as well take back what's yours.
By some miracle, you managed to reach him. You couldn't recall how many people you pushed and fought through to get here, but you finally stepped into the chamber with the city's generator.
The people who gawk and cheer to see a man forced to perform 24/7 notice you and the look in your eyes. It immediately causes them to step aside for you, creating a path straight to the barrier that separated you from Dex.
You hadn't seen him since he left, but you saw him on magazine covers. You saw all the wires and cords that connected into him. Seeing it in person, though…
Your approach and immediate vault of the barrier caused a hush to fall over the crowd near you, which spread with a sense of curiosity to those that couldn't see you until you stepped out into the clearing.
Dex heard the dimming of the noise, and when he lifted his head to see what caused it, his fingers slipped.
He didn't stop playing or anything. He's been at it for far too long to do that. But the next note or two to come from his guitar didn't quite fit into what he was playing prior.
“Dex,” you start, voice cold and firm like steel. He only stares at you. The fact that he keeps playing despite the confrontation irritates you even further. “You enjoying yourself up there? You like seeing them gawk at the freakshow?”
Dex flashed his teeth in a snarl, unhappy with your words. “I don't enjoy things, I get things done. It's the price of perfection.”
Words seem useless. It doesn't matter what you two say to each other, you won't meet eye to eye. Arguments like this weren't uncommon when you two were together, but it felt different, having him hoisted in the air with a hundred wires attached, watching him play even as he argued. It made you mad—yes, at Dex, but mostly at Harmony for turning him into this.
So, you don't argue. You don't throw in his face his old promise to never turn to body mods and never sell out. You don't remind him of the people he left behind.
Instead, you approach, and once he sees, he rears up his guitar. It acts as a signal, and suddenly you have guards and over-eager fans climbing past the barrier to get to you and stop you.
If he wanted to play this game, then you would too.
It was almost as if you entered a flow state when everyone started rushing you. You dodged and countered with ease. You punched, you kicked, you tossed people around with an ease that only came from spite and anger. A need to prove yourself.
For a moment, you feel your hair stand on end, but before you can do anything about it, the lightning strikes. The electricity courses through you, briefly knocking you off your feet. Your limbs tremble as you try to peel yourself off the ground.
Dex doesn’t want to admit that he got scared to see it happen. He wants to push you away, scare you off, but hurting you… It was an accident.
But Dex is an all-in person, so he doubles down. He casts the goons aside and metaphorically steps into the ring to fight you himself.
He swings, you dodge. He throws, you parry right back at him. It infuriates him!
So, in an attempt to end it, he brings his guitar up above his head and brings it down. And in usual you fashion, you dodge it, rolling onto the back of Ragnarock as soon as he tries to pull it up. You use this opportunity to grab onto the cords that connect him to the generator and to Harmony.
Your grab stops your momentum, and you're pulled back towards Dex. Your feet land on his back as you pull and pull and—
BZZT!
The wires are finally pulled out. Dex, used to the constant influx of energy, immediately falls to his knees. You act instantly, pulling out the wires attached to his legs, taking away the things that made him a machine.
He wants to yell at you, tell you to stop messing with things, but he can’t bring himself to do it. A quiet part of him is just happy to have your hands on him again.
You end up having to take him to The Encore yourself. He leans against you and curses at you quietly as you walk him back.
By the time you get him to The Encore, he feels a little more comfortable with holding his own weight, and you sit him down in a booth before sitting across from him.
Knowing that he won’t break the silence, you give him a look. “Talk?”
“About what? You won. Leave me alone.”
“This isn’t about winning, Dex! It’s not always a competition! I just want my boyfriend back.”
Dex looks away because he feels guilty and lost. He hates it.
After a very lengthy silence where he avoids your eye, he finally speaks, still keeping his eyes averted, his fingers moving along to the song playing faintly from the jukebox as if he knew the chords by heart. “I… want you back too. But I betrayed you and everyone else at the first opportunity I was given. I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.”
“Would you do it again,” you ask him, head tilted curiously. When he confesses that, no, he wouldn’t, you tell him, “Then I’m not worried. We… We were all hurting then.”
It was, after all, shortly after Charlie’s death that Dex left you for idoldom with Harmony.
Dex snaps at you. He doesn’t want it to be that easy. “It’s not an excuse! No one else did it! No one else let their grief turn themselves into monsters!”
You move over to his side of the booth and you wrap your arm around his shoulder. He resists, refusing to lean against you. “Dex, no one else is here. They didn’t go immediately, but they all got worn down eventually. That doesn’t make them a monster. It makes them human, ironically. Just… doing what they have to, or what they think is right.”
You can see Dex’s lips purse into a thin line. You catch the look in his eyes. He’s trying not to cry. “I left you alone for ten years.” Unable to help himself, he leaned against you, finally giving in to your embrace. “You waited for ten years… Why? What made you think I was worth that?”
“I love you, Dex. And even if you’re different from the person you were all that time ago, you’re still human. I still love you.”
He made you promise not to tell anyone about how he cried after that. You didn’t have any intention of letting anyone else in on that vulnerable moment. You were just happy to have your boyfriend back.
Hemlock
It was always meant to be you and Hemlock versus the world. The others gave in, but you two stood your ground.
It never was easy to see Hemlock lose all his friends and bandmates to the enemy, but you always held him. You always gave him something to smash. Something to paint.
But one day, Benny suddenly pushes the two of you away. He’d never been the same since Charlie died, but he at least kept up with Hemlock. Those two had been friends since childhood.
So, when he was suddenly gone, Hemlock couldn’t take it anymore. He stomped and yelled and refused to listen to you. You couldn’t get a single word in, and when you kept trying, it only pissed him off more.
He yelled at you. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but the stress and the hurt was too much for him to realize that, in lashing out, he hurt you.
It’s not like he was ever that smart in the first place.
That night, Hemlock stormed off, and then he didn’t come back. You had, at the time, a clawing urge to chase after him and get him to talk it out, but you were hurting too, and so you didn’t.
For a while, you worried that he might have gotten in trouble or hurt.
But then you saw the magazine cover in a bodega you passed by: “Rocker Up” Hemlock exclusive: Toxicmaniac Apocalypse.
Without even thinking, you tore the cover from the magazine and ripped it to shreds. When the stand owner told you to pay for that, you just tossed the money in his direction before storming off.
Harmony! He fucked off to Harmony for fame just because you two had a fight! It infuriated you! It… It hurt you.
But you took a quiet moment to cry in private before storming off to where he usually spends his time—that damn subway.
Of course, anyone can take the subway: it's free. You can see it advertised as you walk down into the sublevel. It wasn't hard to find the platform he was on—you could hear the cheers all the way from the top of the stairs.
Showboating. You thought Aussies were supposed to be more down to earth than this.
You step inside, pushing your way through the crowd to get to the center. It seemed people were kind enough to leave it unoccupied for anyone waiting for the subway train. No one was actually here, but the thought counted, you supposed.
This hadn't been the first time he did this, actually. He would usually retreat into the subway and perform for his fans. Even before everyone all sold out, he would come down and rally people. Whether it was just for music or for some cause, people loved to band together for a shared cause.
And here he was, pretending that nothing changed, pretending that he hadn't given in to the man.
It pushed that anger back to the forefront of your mind.
Hemlock, atop the opposite set of stairs from you, saw you push through the crowd. You were familiar, but it was difficult for him to get a clear view through the crowd.
“Oi! Is that—”
Any kind of smartass remark dies in his throat when you finally manage to break free from the crowd. Of course he recognizes you. How could he forget you? You were the best thing that ever happened to him.
His girlfriend. Or, ex, now. He didn't know where he stood with you, and it tore him up inside.
But then he heard you speak.
“Do your fans know that you sold out to The Man?”
His fists clench tightly. “Say what you want! I've got real power now. I wouldn't call it selling out; it's more like… using my resources.”
“Is that what they call becoming Harmony’s musclehead?”
“That’s it! Everyone!” He points at you angrily. “This girlie’s banned from the subway! Get her out of here!”
Enemies swarm you. Not only fans, but even the riot cops that were meant to be watching Hemlock turn their gazes towards you.
Hemlock thought that would be that. He thought they’d give you a stern talking to, maybe toss you back above ground, but they start fighting you. Swinging, kicking. He wanted to yell at them to knock it off, but how would that look, going back on his word?
Tuning his bass was the only thing he could think to do to ignore you. He wanted to yell, maybe even talk, but he already laid down the law.
It was impressive, just how easily you weaved through the crowd, dodging punches and catching kicks before they could connect with your side.
But this couldn’t last forever. Hemlock never was one to stand back, away from the action. “That’s enough! It’s time for a proper reunion!” He tore through the crowd and leapt, swinging his bass, the blades spinning wildly as he slammed it into the ground where you were.
You dodged, of course. You didn’t miss, however, the way Buzzkill had landed a few inches from where you originally stood. Did he miss on purpose, or was he just rusty?
Hemlock comes at you in the only way he knows how to—with absolutely everything he’s got. He swings wide and you duck under him. He swings down and you slide beside him, giving him a harsh elbow to the side.
You’ve seen your boyfriend fight before, and this wasn’t quite it. Every move was predictable, he might as well be telling you everything he’s doing. You know he hits harder and faster. He fights nastier than this.
But if he’s hoping to drag this out, you aren’t having any of that. You rush him. When he swings, you fall to your knees, sliding under him and hitting the back of his knees, causing him to stumble down onto his knees.
You were up in an instant, bringing a leg up before swinging it down onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him as he fell onto his back.
The force of it caused him to lose his grip on Buzzkill, and you of course grabbed it, raising it over your head while turning towards Hemlock.
Your eyes locked moments before you swung down. Hemlock flinched, expecting a hit, and yet nothing happened. He could hear the blades of his bass still turning, and when he finally registered that his own weapon wasn’t imbedded in his chest, he looked up and saw you holding it mere inches from the flesh of his chest.
That could have been ugly.
But he wasn’t mad at having his own bass stolen from him. No, he couldn’t get over how hot you looked when you were angry.
After a beat, he feels the need to tell you: “You do know this is turning me on, right?”
His inability to take this seriously causes you to scoff as you toss his bass aside.
“Is this really what you want, Hemlock? To be at the beck and call of Harmony?” You bent over him, hands on your hips as you gave him a disappointed look.
“Obviously not! Of course not!” He sits up, his hand skating over the back of his dome. No cracks. That shit is durable. “But what the **** was I supposed to do? Honest change doesn’t happen anymore. You gotta get what you want, however you can.”
It shocked you to hear him say that. He was always so set in his ways. Rallies, petitions, protests, anything that would garner the change in the world he demanded, he took part in it. So what changed his mind now?
You're interrupted from your thoughts when you feel Hemlock take your hand and tug you close. You know that look. He wants you in his lap.
Here? Really? The subway was gone, and so were the people, but was this really the place for that?
You let out a sigh and let him pull you into his lap, straddling him as he held you close.
“I didn't mean to yell at ya,” he tells you as he presses his glass into the crook of your neck. No lips to kiss with, you were used to this. “I just… I got frustrated. Everyone left. What the hell was I gonna do by myself, huh? I look like a dumbass, nothin’ but my bass.”
“Not everyone left,” you tell him as you wrap your arms around him, holding him just as close. You missed him more than you would admit. “You had me. I would have stayed by your side until the world ended.”
His hands, which had been drifting lower and lower, stopped just before he could grab your ass. He sighed as he pulled back to look at you. Hemlock may just be a skull in a jar, but you could sense the regret seeping from him. “I didn't want you to see me like that. Just… givin’ up because life got hard.”
In response, you grab his jar, though his skull still floats freely inside. “You didn't give up. You used your resources, didn't you? That's what you told me.”
He lets out a small chuckle as his skull tilts to the side to avoid your stare. “Bah… you don't need t’spare my feelings. I learned my lesson: no more making you mad.”
That makes you laugh. “Let's go. The Encore is waiting.”
“Oh!” He holds you tightly as he stands up. He always acts like you weigh nothing to him. “The Encore?! I haven't been there in ages!” The man bends down to pick up his bass before he takes you back, refusing to let you go the entire walk back.
Prophet
Prophet actually tried to pretend he wasn't affected by Charlie's death. As he lost one person after another to Harmony, he just smiled and pretended that Dead As Disco wasn't falling apart.
But one day, Prophet comes to you with a deadly serious attitude. He sits you down and gives himself a beat before just asking you outright to join him when he leaves for Harmony.
Not if. When.
It shocks you entirely. You could tell that he wasn't joking. He was leaving, and he wanted to take you with him.
“Are… Are you serious?” It felt ridiculous to even consider it. How could Prophet choose Harmony over the others?
“I have to do this,” he tells you. “It's okay if you don't understand. But I don't want to lose you either.” Prophet takes your hands and looks into your eyes. “Please, baby. Come with me.”
It takes you a moment to wrap your head around it. How could he betray the band? They promised to never sell out. You pull your hands from his and tell him exactly that, and it seems to cause him to close himself off. He already treated that as a rejection.
He expected to be rejected, but a small part of him still hoped.
“I get that you don't want to go.” He didn't either, not really. “And I won't force you. But you're not stopping me, either.”
He gives you one more opportunity. “After today, I’m not coming back to The Encore, but I will miss you.”
“Are you serious?” You grab his hand when he tries to walk away. “You’re just selling out like that? What are you trying to get at?” What did he mean, you wouldn’t understand?
Prophet pulls his hand from yours before he can process that he’s done it. It hurts to push you away, but he does what he needs to do.
He leaves you there in The Encore. Part of you still thinks he'll turn back and say “sike” or something, but it never happens.
Prophet doesn't return the next day, or the day after that. You see him in interviews and magazines as the days pass. That shock freezes over into anger. Each time you catch sight of the eyesore of that Harmony building, your brow furrows harder and harder.
You walk with a quiet but intense purpose. People who see you on the street give you a wide berth just so they don't get shoulder checked by you.
You walked until you made your way to Dead End Drive. You weren't sure if Prophet would be here, but you could at least ask around. God knows you wouldn't get into that Harmony building.
You learn that Prophet runs with some group inside Harmony called Killa Boyz, and he spends most of his time as Harmony's talent agent. He was the gatekeeper on D.E.D. and he remains as such for Harmony as well.
You sit with the others and listen to them talk, not just about Prophet, but about D.E.D. as a whole. How could he abandon this? Even now, people look up to him. They don't see it as selling out, they see it as the next big step in his career. Hearing them talk almost quelled the anger in your heart.
A hush falls over part of the crowd. Spray cans fall silent, chatter is reduced to reverent whispers, and you turn just in time to hear the man speak.
“Look who it is! Miss me, baby?”
“Prophet,” you mutter as you get up, squaring off against him. There he goes, pretending nothing is different. “Playing at being part of the street even though you spend your nights in that cushy tower?”
Your words cause a murmur to spread through the crowd, but Prophet just chuckles, acting as though you told a joke. “Don't forget, this is my home. I grew up here. You saying I don't belong here anymore?”
Instead of answering, you just raise your hands in mock surrender. “Hey, you're the one who said it.”
Prophet's smile falls as he watches you. “You seem to be the only one who's mad. Maybe you're actually just jealous, hm?”
Why is this becoming a diss challenge? You don't want to argue, you just want your boyfriend back.
“Forget about the crowd for once, Prophet. I'm not gonna play these games. Let's go back to the Encore together.”
Now that made him laugh. “You think you can take me? You think it's that simple? It would be funny, if it wasn't so pathetic.”
How could he talk to you like this? It was like he was a totally different guy.
“I'm going to start swinging. And when I knock you on your ***, I'm taking you back to The Encore. No more Harmony, no more gatekeeping.”
His eyes narrow, all that friendly familiarity gone from him. “I’d like to see you try.”
The both of you break out into a fight. The people around you swarm the sides, all desperate to get a good look at the fight, and you can’t help but wish they’d all go away. Prophet is probably acting this way because of all these people.
He always loved to put on a good show.
And your fight ends up as quite the spectacle. Prophet spits words at you almost too quickly for you to keep up, but every time he throws a hit, you manage to parry and counter them all. You’re so locked in that you can feel how tense your muscles are.
One thing hasn’t changed: you’re incredibly nimble, especially compared to him. You slip past all of his attacks, you taunt him. You don’t know when, but the crowd fades away and leaves just you two to tango. When you tease him too much, he scoffs.
“Warm up’s over,” he tells you as he cracks his knuckles, but you’re not done with him.
He gets more aggressive. He’s not waiting for a perfect move anymore. More than anything, he wants to get you to back down, even if that means getting tougher with you.
And when the adrenaline starts pumping too hard, he makes a lunge for you. It’s a sloppy lunge, and you duck under, sticking your leg out and tripping him to the ground. You smile at him as he turns to sit, glaring at you.
Before he can get up, you point at him. “And there you are, on your ***. Guess that means I’m taking you back to The Encore.”
“It ain’t that simple. I’d like to come back with you, sweetie, but I got things to do. You wouldn’t understand.”
“There it is again,” you tell him, narrowing your eyes. "‘I wouldn’t understand.’ Probably because you never bother to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours!”
No, he didn’t. Prophet took on that burden by himself. He thought he could carry it without needing to worry you.
He sighs as he pulls himself up, shifting onto one knee. He gestures you closer, and you oblige, letting him take your hands in his.
“I wanted to keep you from worrying. It wasn’t right to keep you in the dark.” He looks down, his fingers tracing circles on the back of your hands. “I just…” Finally, he looks back up at you. “I wanted to protect everyone, you included. I thought, if I took Harmony’s deal, I’d be able to keep an eye on everyone. Keep the execs from comin’ down on them.”
He finally gets up to his feet, but not before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry for walking away from you. I was doing what I thought was right.”
You purse your lips tight as you watch him unfold to his full height. “Just like you, always wanting to protect others. You’d sell your soul to keep your friends safe.”
“But I left you to do it. How can you forgive that?”
“Probably because I love you.” Plus, you understood what he was doing. Maybe there would be more talking involved at a later date, but for now, you were happy to have him back.
Your quick response gets a smile out of him, and he picks you up in a hug. “You are an angel, you know that? I’m never leaving you again.”
