Why...? Bruce had asked himself that very same question about a thousand times by now. Every time one of the League members gave him that look, the one of mild distaste and disappointment. Of disgust hidden beneath the shadows nestled in the corners of their faces.
He asked himself "Why?" every time he made a suggestion only for it to get overruled or ignored until they absolutely had to take the advice, and then he never got even so much as a "You were right, sorry," or a "Thanks for looking out for us." in return.
In fact, most times this happened, the League attributed the idea to one of their other members. Not Bruce. Never Bruce. If they ever even took his suggestion up front they would only do so quite reluctantly, and even then, it was a matter they did not linger on.
Needless to say, they kept their distance. Walked to the opposite side of the hallways whenever Bruce passed, pouring over the debrief files and paperwork. If he entered the mess hall for coffee, all noise sapped from it as all present members inside awkwardly adjusted to his oh-so-offensive presence.
He only grit his teeth, used to it by now, and carried on.
Sometimes, Bruce wondered if the sudden burst in noise after he'd left a room was because they were simply waiting for him to leave, or if something substantial had actually decided to be made the topic of conversation at that exact moment in time. If Bruce was said topic.
He knew what the answer was. He didn't have to sugarcoat it to himself.
He asked himself "Why?" every time, and then proceeded to ignore that question and the myriad of possible answers, burying the sour taste on his tongue behind his iron mask. He knew why. It was written all over their faces whenever they looked at him.
They thought he didn't belong here. He wasn't one of them. He had no powers of his own, just sheer determination, a fortunate plethora of useful resources, and more than a few mental illnesses fueling his desire to make this world a better place.
And something about that seemed to...scare them.
Or maybe it was more accurate to say that they were disappointed by it all. That someone who had the means but wasn't obligated to had chosen this path, rather than had some meta power thrust upon them and become obligated out of sheer responsibility, or some kind of birthright. Not that it couldn't be argued he had a form of birthright in and of itself (one could argue everyone on Earth did), but they clearly seemed to restrict Bruce's to Gotham.
Almost as if to say "It's your circus, you deal with it."
They were too stubborn to realize nor care where the funding for the Watchtower, and the League itself, mainly came from. Though he had heard in passing that they all assumed it was solely Oliver's doing, maybe a little from Ray. It could make sense until you did the math. Oliver didn't even have the capital anymore to fund half of what was required to keep everything running smoothly day-to-day. He gave up a sizable portion of his wealth a few years back and wasn't planning on regaining it, as far as Bruce was aware.
And Ray, being one of the nicer members who didn't look at him like he were a ticking time bomb--though still had eyes filled to the brim with concern besides the small kindness he showed, and was always trying to egg Bruce into a conversation about therapy--had only contributed minor amounts here and there. Most of his funding went towards medical programs across the country and sometimes abroad. It wasn't exclusive toward the League.
Not that they cared to figure that out. Oliver usually laughed it off uneasily, avoiding Bruce's gaze. Ray gave them all a strange look at any mention of funding, and usually clasped a gentle hand on Bruce's shoulder as if to comfort.
So hearing the words that Arthur just spat at him made a small flame inside of Bruce begin to burn into a raging wildfire, one long overdue.
Why are you even here, kid? Go home.
Why?
Why?
He could tell them why. List off every single thing they've done so far to ridicule and minimize his presence, rattle off every time he gave tactical advice that was ignored or reluctantly implemented without so much as an acknowledgement his way. Give them detailed records of every time they talked about him as if he wasn't even in the room, like they'd completely forgotten how diverse the security and surveillance on the tower was. Because they dropped all pretense of caring whenever it came to Bruce. Because being in his presence was such an offense to them.
He could do all of this. The boiling blood in his veins urged him to. He could set the record straight with a brutal tongue lashing, aimed right at Arthur and the four others standing idly behind him, giving Bruce their trademark stares.
But he wouldn't. He forced his heartbeat to calm and let the anger cool within him, the only visible give away for his anger the rolling close of his fingers into fists for exactly four seconds before he opened his palms and turned away.
Because, despite what the members of the League thought about him, or his place on this team, or how much they didn't want to admit they needed him-- the world needed the Justice League.
And he was going to make certain they were there for whatever future threats awaited them.
Tags: Canon Divergence - Teen Wolf (TV) Season 2 || Pack Alpha Derek Hale || Summer Vacation || Slow Build || Scent Marking || References to Knotting || Come Marking || Tent Sex || First Time Blow Jobs || First Time || Outdoor Sex || Skinny Dipping || References to Kate Argent || Getting Together || Underage Drinking || Stiles Stilinski is Part of Derek Hale's Pack || Background Relationships
For the @sterekreversechallenges Reverse Quickie 2026 based on Asyndetonic's beautiful art! Go see the full image on AO3!
Summary & Excerpt:
The Argents had decided to leave Beacon Hills after Gerard's death, which meant there was room for Derek to breathe for just a second and recover with his whole but still fractured Pack. They were one bad day from breaking again so Derek did the only thing he could think of to try and keep them together.
He took them to the cabin.
---
Or Derek and Stiles connect over the summer while Derek builds a Pack.
“ the house was amazing—almost too good to be true. the only problem was one adrian chase. not only did the man hold a grudge against your masked self, but he also wanted the house, and your game of push and pull ended up revealing your knowledge of his secret identity, consequently exposing your own. hence the agreement: you wouldn't interfere with his vigilante ways, and he'd let you keep the house. but it seemed like a rival could be as persistent as a shadow because you always found your ways back to each other. ”
cw: rivals to friends to lovers, no use of y/n, spidey reader, tension (like... every kind i think), slow burn-ish, violence, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, yearning, bickering.
tags may change.
notes: hitting the post button with fear.
You smiled to yourself at the thought of scaring the man following you.
Call it corruption, call it hypocrisy. Being around him had turned you into someone who dealt with his thirst for violence like a parent did with a grumpy child. You knew what he was capable of, what he was hiding when the masks were down—ironically. So, when you felt the warning creeping up your spine, as if all of your senses gained one focus and told you he was there, you didn't stop walking towards the bus stop. It was right outside the pet store you worked at.
He knew that too, it seemed, since your body felt his presence almost as soon as you closed the door behind you.
You didn't look up as you crossed the street and sat on the bench, still looking through the photos you had taken with your camera today. They were part of a small present to celebrate Halloween that you decided to take upon yourself to make for the pet owners.
Your smile only grew when the sequence of this big German Shepherd trying to jump over your camera appeared.
“Hi!”
You looked up from the camera and met Adrian Chase’s grin without letting your own fall.
“Hi!”
“Hi,” He repeated, a bit nervous, then tilted his head and asked if you didn't “happen” to be, well, you— “Because I think I saw you last week.”
“Really?” You asked. “Where? I don't remember you.”
“Oh, we didn't meet. I just saw you.”
You nodded with a hum, thinking that if he approached someone who didn't know him with this sentence, they would rightfully be scared.
“Where?”
That was exactly what he wanted to hear.
“See, that's the funny thing!” He exuded enthusiasm, gesturing and resting his weight on his other leg. “We were both looking at the same house that day! I was talking to Mrs. Miranda right after you left, so I saw you there. What a coincidence that I saw you here again, right?”
“Oh,” You raised your eyebrows, not exaggerating your surprise this time.
This was only the second time Adrian Chase decided to speak to you out of his Vigilante suit. It had been almost a year since you became acquainted with each other, but the only other time you had been this close to him unmasked was when he came into your workplace to warn the staff that the bowls of food and water that you left for stray animals outside were empty.
You see, Adrian Chase was the kind of person who had the best memory for certain things, and the worst for others. That by itself is pretty normal, but he would say an absurdly wrong statement with the confidence of a professional teaching you the subject sometimes. So, you didn't expect him to put the pieces together and find you there after a whole year without seeing your face.
You continued. “I really liked the house.”
“I know,” He nodded. “That's why I wanted to talk to you. You can't buy it.”
“I’m renting it for now.”
“Yes, for now. But then you'll buy it if you really like it.”
“I guess…” You roamed your gaze around before looking at him again. “I don't know.”
“See?” He clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment. “That's why I should buy it. I already like the house a lot more. You like it a normal amount. Which is fine! Everyone has a house that matches them perfectly, you just haven't found yours yet.”
A laugh of incredulity bubbled out of your mouth like a wheeze.
“You can't be serious—” You paused, refraining from spitting out his name in irritation. “Dude.”
He was confused. “I’m being serious. What makes you think I’m not serious?”
Checking your watch with a head shake, you learned that the bus was only a minute late. Could you shut Adrian Chase up before it got there? You hoped so.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to find another place just because you want that one,” You shrugged. “I happen to be seriously involved with that house too.”
“No, you don't.”
“Oh, and you know that how?”
“I… I just need it more than you do.”
Oh, please.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
You hummed, nodded, and let your gaze wander away again.
The thread of advantageous knowledge you thought had wrapped him around your finger was beginning to thin quickly. You knew he wasn't joking. Buying the house? Did he have the money? If he did, would he really try to convince you to go live somewhere else? No, he couldn't, since the renter was ready to send you the contract. Then… He knew, somehow, didn't he? Probably had called Mrs. Miranda and got told the house wasn't available anymore.
You looked back at him, aware that he had, not once, looked away.
“I will let you have it—”
“Really?!”
“—If,” You lifted a hand to shut him. “You tell me why you need it more than I do. The truth.”
He looked at you like he was in trouble.
“The truth?”
“Yes.”
“And then you’ll let me have it?”
You lied. “Yes.”
There was no way this man would tell you the truth, because it was probably something near your own. He wanted a place where he could be by himself completely, with no risk of getting his loved ones involved in the vigilante business. You didn't know much about Adrian Chase’s personal life, but you knew he had a present mother. He was probably aware of how dangerous it was to go back home as Vigilante with an elderly lady there and wanted his own place.
That didn't mean you didn't like the house more than he did, however. You had a large dog who needed a place to roam freely—the apartment you shared didn't offer an ounce of that—, not to mention how every other aspect made everything so perfect. The location could be nearer the city, sure, but that was part of why the price was lower. It had everything you needed, with the exception of a kitchen table. It even had a large balcony at the back, facing a stream that divided the house from the woods.
Adrian Chase was not going to take that from you.
“Uh…” He blinked. “I work at home, and I need the space in the basement. For my workshop.”
Oh, right. How could you forget the basement? It was the perfect place for your gear, where you could develop your synthetic web, patch up your suit—and yourself—all without the risk of getting caught.
“Oh, yes, it's a nice basement,” You agreed.
His eyes sparkled. “So you get it?”
Behind him, the warm light of the sunset was suddenly blocked by a large vehicle casting a shadow over the two of you.
You cheered internally at the thought of getting home to keep planning your future life and sign that contract.
“I get it,” You got up, adjusting the strap of your bag and taking the money you had separated for the bus in your back pocket.
The way he grinned almost made you feel bad, but it had been too many times before that he tried to shoot you for you to care if he had to find another house.
You grinned back.
“Which is why I can't let you have it.”
“Can you fucking believe that?”
The reply was barely amused.
“I can, yeah.”
Economos, John, was rarely in the mood to talk on the phone, but Adrian made it impossible sometimes. First, there was the animal trivia. He never answered the questions correctly, despite insisting that he was an expert. Second, there was his obsession with Spidey—who he once described as a ‘venomous asshole’—that John would only judge him more for if it was one-sided. Something between those two was weird, even if he supported Spidey following Adrian around to stop him from killing whoever whenever, for whatever reason he came up with.
Now, there was a new twist in the life of the local busboy.
“And then she left!” Adrian almost shouted from the other side of the line.
John leaned back on his chair, eyes still watching footage from cameras on his monitor.
“Adrian, you have enough money to buy a mansion, fuck, two mansions, I don't fucking know. Just let this girl have her house and buy another one.”
“I already told you I can't use that money— Jesus fuck, Dave, I’m on my break!”
John ignored the argument unfolding on Adrian’s side of the call and opened a new app to order dinner. It was getting late and the chips he had an hour ago had done nothing for him.
“Adrian, get—”
He ended the call.
“—in!”
“I am getting in, or are you deliberately blind?” Adrian asked as he passed by Dave with a scowl.
Only because his break was over in that exact second, of course. Why would he obey him otherwise?
He picked up the sanitizer and cloth, thankful that this wasn't a busy night at Fennel Fields because he had a headache causing him stress. A headache named you.
He couldn't believe he let himself be fooled by appearances. Wasn't he supposed to be smarter than that? An instrument of vengeance?
Well, if he was being honest, you did seem like an innocent citizen, so there was no need to think so hard about you. But that was before you tried to outsmart him and be an ass. Now, that was the sole reason why your smile was imprinted in his mind. You seemed so understanding before destroying whatever hope he had to get the house he wanted.
“Jackass,” He muttered, frowning at the table he was cleaning.
The hours passed rather slowly after that, but the momentary distractions helped to make him feel lighter when it was, finally, time to clock out and drown his sorrows in justice.
He changed quickly, but was as careful as always with the suit. It was a real beauty, and he had just patched it up under his ribs the night before and washed it clean. It felt like driving a new car. Kinda. Maybe a scooter. Adrian never had a scooter.
Putting his visor down, he grinned.
“Oh, yeah.”
He felt confident as he walked around the neighborhood, but never let his attention waver from any sound or sight. There were men he had been looking for a few days now, hoping to catch them before his rival—the reason why they managed to leave the other two times—did.
Spidey was even worse than you, but Adrian would bet that you would get along. It was that whole sense of superiority she possessed and shared with you. He didn't get her stupid excuse to let people get away with things like doing graffiti. “It was an abandoned building crumbling down, and they just drew a little heart!” Pfft, so what?
Ads liked her when they met one time, and Adrian had seen her kick ass with that little ninja turtle cosplayer that couldn't get a decent job and followed the 11th street kids around, so there was definitely something wrong with her. Attracting people who were rivals? Suspicious.
He couldn't stand her.
He couldn't wait to see her again.
It was weird to… expect. He didn't know what to call it. Definitely not excitement. He didn't like how she corrupted his system with her nuisance. It was all about You can't just kill everyone, Vigilante this, and Go work on yourself before you talk about me like that again that. Ha! Please! As if she were all that! All Spidey did successfully was annoy him and edge him non-sexually.
Still, he expected.
Adrian groaned at himself, stopping in his tracks and taking a deep breath.
“What the fuck,” He threw his head back, closing his eyes for a moment and then shaking his head until this virus sensation left him.
“The hell are you doing?”
He was quick.
In one second, his gun was pointed at Spidey.
She was quicker.
When he fired, she dodged it like flies do when you want to kill them really, really bad, you know? Making you wonder how they're so fast? Unbearable?
“It's nice to see you too, buddy,” She came closer, passed by him, then continued on her way.
She was never scared to turn her back to him. Believe Adrian when he tells you that he checked it multiple times. It was as if she knew he was coming, and what he would do every single time.
But one day she wouldn't. One day, he would catch her, and she wouldn't escape him. He couldn't wait!
“I’m not your buddy,” He bit back, lowering the gun. “You're a horse in my shoe.”
Spidey stopped and turned around.
“A what?”
“A ho—”
“It's ‘a pebble in my shoe’.”
Adrian frowned.
“So? A horse is more inconvenient than a pebble.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “Then I must be a big inconvenience, Vigi.”
“Don't call me Vigi, either!” He pointed an accusatory finger. “Only my friends can call me that.”
“And after all the murder attempts, you still don't consider us a little close?”
“It's not attempted murder. You're getting in my way all the time, and I’m trying to get rid of you because you think you're sooo good. Guess what? You're not!”
“I’m not?”
“No.”
“Catch me, then.”
He laughed and waved a finger. “Nope. I’ve played these games before. You always tell me to catch you, or shoot you, and then you dodge it, or you shoot webs at me— Which by the way—!”
She raised her hands in surrender when his voice grew louder.
“—Sucks so bad! It's like I have gorilla glue all over my suit. What the fuck is that? It takes so long to remove them.”
“You remove them?” She asked, confused. “Like, with a knife?”
“I have special tweezers.”
“How are tweezers special?”
Adrian opened his mouth but hesitated before coming up with an answer.
“That's none of your arachnidium business.”
Spidey didn't seem to care about his attitude. She scratched the back of her head with a hum and asked:
“Are they bedazzled, or something?”
“Why the fuck would I bedazzle my tweezers?” Adrian was offended by the question. “The texture would be so inconvenient.”
“You never know what a person’s favorite textures are, so I don't assume.”
“My suit is my favorite texture,” He said. “Duh.”
“Right, right,” Spidey nodded and gestured as she came closer again, scanning and circling him. “Otherwise, why would you make it like that?”
“Exactly,” Adrian rolled his eyes. “At least you know something.”
A chill ran over his arm, so soft it took him a moment to register it wasn't the wind, and his gun was pointed at her head again in the blink of an eye.
“Don't touch me, you weirdo.”
“I just poked your elbow with my pointer,” She lifted her finger, acting as if he was being ridiculous. He knew that tone well by now. “Put that down. Stop wasting your bullets.”
“It's not wasting if I hit you.”
“Then hit me,” She said with a shrug.
Adrian sighed through his nose, lowering the gun.
Another win for her. Damnit.
“You know, a spider-woman hunting me would be kinda hot if you weren't the biggest pain in my ass.”
“It’s not me who’s hunting—”
A loud bark interrupted her sentence.
Adrian ignored their argument to rush towards the dog with a smile on his face. It was rare for dogs to approach them like that, especially one wagging its tail and placing its paw on Adrian’s open hand so lovingly.
“Oh, what a good boy,” He said, exaggerating his caring tone. The dog responded by getting up on his back paws and trying to attack him playfully.
“Vigilante, get the gun away from him.”
He laughed through his response with a head shake.
“I’m not gonna shoot the dog. I love dogs.”
He could hear Spidey sigh out loud behind him, but she was close and perched beside him only a second later. She had the habit of falling into positions easily like that. Not that Adrian had thought about it. And if he did, it would be because he needs to know things like this because knowing your opponent well is an advantage.
He let himself observe her as she studied the dog like she didn't understand it—because she's fucking weird—before going back to petting it.
Adrian wished he had a pet sometimes. He had Eagly, but he was a friend, not a pet. You take care of these things in different ways—even if Eagly could be the biggest baby sometimes when it came to food. A dog would be nice. Loyal, like him. But they all died at unpredictable times, and people didn't like it when you got sad about it. It wouldn't fit Adrian to let himself be sad like that after training to become untouchable.
So, he cherished the small moments.
“Your owner is gonna be so sad when you die,” He thought out loud to the dog.
Spidey’s head snapped in his direction.
“Seriously, put the gun away,” She said it again, pushing his armed hand.
He frowned at her. “I’m not going to shoot an innocent animal. Jeez.”
“You could do it accidentally. And then what?”
“I don't accidentally kill things, Spidey,” Most of the time.
“Can you just be careful for once?”
Adrian ceased his movements completely.
There had only been one other occasion when her voice sounded like this—irritated and upset—and that was the night when they first met. She didn't manage to stop him from killing a criminal, and lost it.
He smirked. She was worried about something that she couldn't control again.
Him.
“I’m not going to shoot the dog,” He repeated.
It’s true. He wouldn't shoot it. But pushing her buttons until she understood that she couldn't pull his strings anytime she wanted felt so, so good.
He turned his attention back to the animal and scratched behind its ear. What breed he was, he didn't know. His specialty was owls, at the moment. But it was fluffy, so much so that he couldn't spot the teal collar around his neck until he felt it.
He gasped.
“His favourite colour is teal, too!”
Despite her clear irritation, Spidey scoffed.
“Dogs can't see teal, Vigilante.”
He frowned. “That's not true.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What the fuck?” He asked, perplexed, and began reading the tag on. “That's so sad for our boy. Oh, it has a phone number. We can return him to...”
The words died in his mouth as he recognized a pattern. He blinked and reread the phone number to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
No fucking way.
His eyes widened at the same time as his smile did, and he let out a cackle of pure disbelief.
“Tybalt?” He said the name on the tag as if the dog was going to answer.
His ears lifted in attention.
Standing, Adrian threw his head back with another laugh, placing his gun back in the holster. This was too good. Oh, what a banger of an evening. No dead criminals yet, but a win nonetheless.
“What are you doing?” Spidey asked when he picked up the dog that didn't do more than put his tongue out.
“Taking the furry baby home? Didn't you see he has an owner?”
“There was no address.”
Adrian shrugged and walked away.
“I know the owner. I mean, I don't know the owner, like, intimately, in case you try to figure out who I am through our relationship.”
“I won't.”
“Good,” He resumed his steps. “I’ll just take him home and call the number to—.”
“What?”
“What what? That's how you return lost dogs home, Spidey.”
“You can't enter a house like that!”
“I’m not going to enter! I’ll… wait there. You can come with me. Wait, no. You stay. I’ll be back soon.”
Spidey would probably love your shitty sense of humor and decency. Adrian couldn't have that.
“Look at my arms, full of Tybalt,” He marched down the street like he had won a prize. “He loves Vigilante.”
There was no denying that the animal was comfortable with him, but it was not enough for the fun police in carbon fibre to leave him alone.
She stopped him again by catching up and pulling his arm.
“Can you just let me take him home?” Adrian fixed her with a look. “You need to relax, girl.”
“Not like this. I won't let you break into her house.”
“I told you I’m not! Do you want me to leave this dog in the middle of the street to get stolen or run over?” Adrian asked. “And you call yourself a hero. Pft. What would Superman say?”
He giggled at his own joke.
Spidey once mentioned that she and Superman were ‘buddies’ that fought together in Metropolis one time, which is absolutely ridiculous, and even if it was true, Adrian would think the same thing because... Superman out of all people? Please.
He was making the turn around the block when it came to him.
Spidey bumped straight into him and Tybalt when he turned around abruptly. Then, she gestured and scanned him up and down as if to ask what he was doing.
He was sure.
“You know her.”
“Who?”
Despite the irritation growing within and making him impatient, he let Tybalt down carefully and told him to stay, which he did.
Then, he took the gun, pointing it at Spidey.
“This again?”
“You know her. His owner,” He pointed at Tybalt.
The worry, knowing it was a woman who owned the dog… What else did she know? What if you were her friend? What if you told Spidey about meeting him? That would put Spidey only one acquaintance away from his secret identity.
“You're her friend.”
Spidey scoffed. “I’m not her friend.”
“Her girlfriend, then?” He squinted, then lowered the gun. “I’m not homophobic, just so you know.”
“I don't have a girlfriend, Vigilante.”
“Then how do you know her?”
“I don't know anyone,” She stretched one hand out to scratch behind Tybalt’s ear, not looking at Adrian. “So drop it, okay?”
“I don't believe you. You're always lying to me.”
Now, she looked up.
“I don't lie that often.”
“You said you wouldn't let me break into her house. I didn't even say anything about the owner being a woman.”
“And your instinct was to pull out the gun?”
“Yes.”
“Did it not cross your mind that maybe I’m just assuming it?.”
He shot back, offended. “You never, ever, say something accidentally. Tell me the truth.”
He lifted the gun again.
“Or I’m not missing this time.”
“I already told you—”
BANG!
After the trigger was pulled, the world spun faster.
Tybalt cried, running away, but as soon as Adrian tried to follow, he was pulled by the arm again, except this time he also had his hand twisted with enough force to make him groan and drop the gun.
Before he could try anything with his other hand, it was attached to his back with what he knew to be web.
“You—”
“Shut up!” Spidey kicked the back of his knee.
Adrian fell to his knees, feeling Spidey attempt to attach his other hand to his back. He fought against it, pulling until she rolled over his shoulder and onto the ground. Then, he threw his body on top of hers with as much force as he had, earning a small groan, and straddled her lap, trapping one of her arms as well.
“Why are you so mad? I always shoot at you.”
She punched his face with her free hand and tried to push his weight off of her.
He quickly took one of the knives he kept by the small of his back, placing it against her throat. She was panting more than him for some reason.
“What the fuck was all that for, Spidey?”
“Says the one who shot at me.”
“I always do that!”
“But you scared him. I need to go after him.”
Aha!
“For your girlfriend, isn't it?” He arched his eyebrows. “I knew it—”
“I don't have a fucking girlfriend, Adrian.”
“—The moment you said—” His smile faded. “What?”
“Let me go after the dog.”
“What did you say?”
“Let me go—”
“Not that.”
The silence that came after was enough to understand that he didn't mishear it.
He pressed the blade down with more force and leaned closer, inspecting her mask as if he would find something there that he hadn't seen before.
“Why did you call me Adrian?”
“I didn't.”
“Yes, you did. Fuck, it's so hard to intimidate you with one hand.”
He adjusted his position over her, feeling her arm squirm between his inner thigh that pressed it against her hip, and pressed it harder.
“Why did you call me Adrian?”
“It slipped! Why do you care?”
“Because… I don't know, you answer first. Who's Adrian?”
She hesitated again.
Yeah, that was enough.
“Tell me who you are, or I’ll gut you.”
“You won't do that, Vigilante.”
“Well, my knife is making out with your neck,” He quickly gazed down and saw there was already a small cut there, with little blood on the blade. “How are you going to get away from that?”
“I always do.”
He inhaled sharply. It was there again, her sense of superiority making his blood run hotter with anticipation.
“You know who I am.”
“I don't.”
“Yes, you do. Why do you keep denying it? Actually, I get it, it's one of those tactics where you refuse to tell people what you know. Been there, on the torture side. But you just called me Adrian as if you knew something you shouldn't, so I have to take you out.”
“Because of that?” She squirmed again, grabbing his wrist with her free hand. “Are you insane?”
“Are you going to tell me who you are?”
Silence.
“Suspicious pause. I’m gonna cut your throat now.”
Instantly, his vision turned black, as if something had jumped on his face.
“What the fuck?!”
He tried to reach for his visor, but ended up screaming when Spidey twisted his hand again.
There were spots of light in his vision, but not enough to see properly. He felt a strong pull at the elevated collar of his armour, by the conjecture of his neck and shoulder, understanding that she was switching their places. Instinctively, Adrian locked his legs around her and pointed the knife at her direction, but she was quick to immobilise him by pushing his hand to the concrete floor.
Adrian tried to lift his hand, failing miserably. Huh. That was new. How strong was she?
He blinked, trying to find a spot in his blindness to bring her into focus, beginning to notice the metallic aroma of blood coming from somewhere.
She lifted his visor for him. Her voice was low, but heavy.
“If you come after me, I’ll kill you, Adrian Chase.”
Oh!
“You've never threatened me before. Like, in all seriousness.”
“I know.”
He let his head fall to the ground and sighed.
“I think I’m getting turned on for some odd reason, so can you just tell me who you are and go away?”
“You're literally wrapped around me.”
He ignored that.
“I know we fight,” He continued. “But I won't hunt and kill you if you tell me who you are, unless you're a bad person. Promise.”
All he received in response was the lack of one. Disheartening.
Adrian pulled her even closer then, ignoring how she pressed her other palm beside his head, resisting it.
“It's really mean of you not to tell me, you know that, right?” His gaze went from side to side over her face, but he couldn't find her eyes under the mask at all. “I’ll make sure to find out myself if you don't. I already know your girlfriend.”
Spidey groaned.
“You're such an idiot.”
“I’m not an idiot, you're an idiot. I didn't stalk you out of respect for the incognito lifestyle, but now I have to find you and kill you for knowing mine. Thanks a lot, Spidey.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth when she removed the mask enough only to see that, wondering if he had seen the slope of her lips before, because they looked familiar.
“Do you not have the rest of your face?” Adrian asked. “Is it a condition? Cause that would totally make sense for a spider-human.”
“Sorry.”
The warmth in her tone made him swallow.
“For what?”
“For what I’m about to do. It's just a precaution, it won't kill you, or change you.”
He blinked. “Huh?”
She came even closer then, hovering her mouth over his neck for a moment that freaked him out a little.
His eyes widened when sharpness sank into his skin.
Tybalt had always been a good dog.
The night you found him, you cried—both of you. He was nothing but a puppy in a trash can, screaming for help, and you were an emotional mess for witnessing something like this. He was put there on purpose, and if it weren’t for your strong senses, you might not have heard him through the rainstorm.
You were also lucky to be roommates with Tania. Sure, the apartment was small and sort of shitty, but she could've thrown a tantrum about you bringing and keeping the dog. She didn't, though. Tania was not only understanding of the situation, but she was also supportive.
You felt bad for leaving her at first, but she had said a thousand times that it was okay. She could afford rent, and was looking for a new roommate already. Of course, you meant to keep an eye on her and help around while she didn't find someone—it was not a stretch in a place like Evergreen. So, when you found a place for you and your Aussie, you celebrated.
Now, you were screwed. Fucked, even.
Maybe you had forgotten to close the door, or maybe Tania had accidentally let Tybalt out—it happened one time, and she freaked out badly—but he found you. Not just you, he also found Vigilante. Worst of all, he seemed to love the guy.
You had squinted, sighed, and shaken your head with disappointment at the sight. Vigilante was acting like finding Tybalt was Christmas morning and the dog was his present. And Tybalt was jumping, sniffing his face and wagging his tail like he had just met his new best friend.
Traitor.
Tybalt had always been a good dog, yes. Which was why you were so worried when Vigilante got close to him with the gun, when he found your phone number and put the pieces together, when he got close to the truth.
All because of that damn house you both wanted.
“Tybalt!” You called now, swinging from tree to tree as you looked for him in the dark woods.
He had run away when Vigilante shot at you, and though it had been only a few minutes since then, you were scared for him. He had never heard a gunshot from up close like that, and he was a fast dog. The combination wasn't good.
“Tybalt!”
You gasped and turned your whole body around when your ears picked up the sound of a whimper, evidently your dog’s, and hung onto the web vine that dragged you forward. Then, you let it bring you back like a swing, and leaped.
There he was, beneath a rotting log leaning on another tree. As soon as you touched the ground, he barked nonstop, terrified.
You removed the mask.
“Hey, Tybalt,” You said, softly.
His entire demeanor changed once he recognized you. He whimpered once but bolted.
You knelt and let him sniff your face with his casual enthusiasm.
“It's just me,” You told him, caressing him with both hands. “It's okay. That jerk didn't mean to scare you.”
He did, though. He scared both of you.
It was easy to predict Vigilante by now. He was always ready to shoot first and ask questions later—though you noticed he became a bit more careful around you with time—but he knew too much now.
So, when you came back to where you left him, with Tyablt walking with you, you ignored the whining.
He was mumbling something that you didn't catch, because the venom from your retractable fangs was still paralysing him.
“What was that?” You asked, coming closer and tilting your head.
He had managed to move just enough to spin slowly from where you hung him by the feet, green eyes locked on you as he did, which meant the venom was wearing off. At least you managed to find him before he could break off the web-cocoon wrapped around his upper body.
Now… How to convince him not to hunt you down after this?
“I’m sorry for immobilising you, Adrian Chase,” You began. “Really, I don't like biting people like that but you’re too bloodthirsty. First of all, I wasn't going to do anything about your secret identity. I’ve known about it for ages, and the only reason why I didn't tell you is because we aren't friends and I don't care."
You waited but there was no answer, obviously, so you continued.
“Also, I promise that the venom won't do anything to you. It's not a drug, or anything freaky that will alter your insides, or poison you. So don't worry about that.”
Okay, what else?
“And… Oh, yeah. I am Tybalt’s owner,” You gestured towards the dog with a smile under your mask. It vanished right after. “If you try to do something to him, I won’t hesitate to kill you. Causing him pain will do irreparable damage to my person, and I will become vengeful, find you, bite you again, shelob-wrap you, and find wolves so I can feed you to them.”
Adrian Chase spun into sight again, with unintangible mumblings this time.
Hoping he would understand, you came closer and stilled him with a hand on his webbed chest. You had unintentionally hung him high enough to face him at your eye level, thankfully.
“Can I remove your mask? It's a bit hard to understand.”
“Yssh!”
You grimaced with a hiss at the sound. Oh, that venom hit people really hard, didn't it? You had forgotten.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Because a ‘no’ would probably sound like ‘orrn’, or something. “How do I…”
Vigilante had never removed his mask in front of you, but it was seamless around his collarbone. You decided to pull by head, trying not to grip his hair in the process.
Now, Adrian Chase looked strangely soft under the weight of the poison—and being upside down for a few minutes. There were no signs of stubbornness in his eyes, only exhaustion. His mouth and jaw barely moved, as if he was waking up slowly.
“Sorry,” You whispered.
As much as you disliked him, you meant it. You truly didn't enjoy the thought of being paralysed from the inside out, much less causing it to other people.
“It's just hard to talk to you without getting shot all the time.”
He rolled his eyes. Barely.
“Look,” You took a deep breath. “I really, really hate that I’m telling you this, but I need that house. I need the space for me and Tybalt. I’ve been working my ass off to get to a point where I’m comfortable with only one job and my own place since forever, so… Leave me alone, okay? I told you what would happen if you tried me and it wasn't a joke.”
“I…”
His speech was scant, returning slowly, but you were patient.
“Know… You.”
“And I know you. But I won't do anything about it. I promise.”
“Li… ar.”
“I’m not lying this time.”
He scoffed.
You scoffed back.
“What do I have to do for you to trust me?”
He scoffed again, causing you to roll your eyes, but you understood it.
Trust. What a joke.
But one thing about Vigilante that you were certain of was that he dealt badly with deception, which you related to, even if you did lie to him at times—necessary times. The thought of asking for the truth, placing your beliefs into what someone was saying just to find out it was a lie could be your last straw too.
So, you told him the truth.
“I found out who you were the week after we met, Adrian Chase,” You explained as he began to breathe through his mouth. “I never told a single person, never stalked you, and never tried to get something out of it. I just don't care about it enough to expose you. You're the one who's been infernizing me, anyway.”
It was like a button was pressed somewhere.
Adrian Chase let out a scream so unexpectedly that you leaned back with wide eyes. It looked like he was finally above water, eyes blinking hard and taking large breaths.
“Oh, my fucking—” He cried the words out with what you could guess was relief in his hoarse voice, interrupted by his own cough. Then, he set his angry gaze on you. “You fucking liar!”
“Adrian—”
“How the fuck can I trust you?” He asked. Snarled desperately, rather.
“I just told you the truth!” You asked, offended, then muttered. “Not like I’m the one who made things between us this hostile.”
“Yes, you did!” He flicked one of his wrapped wrists to point a finger at you. “You’ve been stopping me from doing my job since day one! You’re ruining my reputation!”
“I haven't stopped you from doing your job as Vigilante, only from killing random people!”
“Random people can be bad!”
“Not all of them are!”
He shut his mouth, still looking exhausted but also annoyed.
You sighed through your nose, wanting to keep raging on. You had this problem sometimes, becoming the meanest in the room just to win the argument. But what could you say now, anyway?
He wasn't completely wrong, either. At least, not in his mind. You knew how Vigilante operated, and by stopping random deaths, he began to see you as an inconvenience.
“If,” You said after a long pause. “I let you be Vigilante the way you want to, you’ll leave me alone?”
He hesitated.
“Is that a real option?”
“It can be.”
“Huh,” He looked away in thought, then back at you. “You’ll let me kill all of the assholes?”
You bit the inside of your cheek.
Would you?
Tybalt got up on his back paws and sniffed Adrian Chase’s curls from the height he could reach, always curious.
“Sure,” You decided, watching your dog attempt to slap Adrian’s head. “Just leave me and my house alone. And my dog.”
“I already told you, I won't hurt the dog,” He whined and squirmed in the web wrap. “Even if it's yours.”
“Okay. Do we have a deal?”
“What? No,” He frowned. “Not yet. You need to let me see you.”
“You already know who I am.”
“But it's unfair. You do all this shit to me, and I can't even see your face? Harsh.”
You rolled your eyes because you knew he meant it, and removed the mask, grabbing his arms.
“What are you— Wait!”
You pulled his body down with enough force to rip the web. Or so you thought, because a whole branch fell on top of Adrian Chase, making him groan, and you gasp loudly.
“Shit, sorry!” You picked it up and threw it away. “I didn't mean to do that.”
If you had to guess, you were doing a terrible job at convincing the guy that he didn't have to worry about you when it came to his safety.
“Didn't hurt,” He groaned. “It's the web that's annoying me. What is this shit made of? It can't just be regular web.”
You tilted your head with a face that said You got a point, but didn't elaborate. Instead, you knelt and gripped the wrap from the seam at his chest and pulled hard until it began to rip.
Adrian Chase moaned loudly when he could finally lie on the ground like a starfish.
“Oh, I’ve never felt this much relief before,” He closed his eyes, then opened them to look at you. “And I’ve had my toes tortured before. Toe, actually. Just one. I’ve never been the same.”
You nodded with a worried expression, wondering what he could possibly be talking about.
His expression slowly softened into that confused, tired state again, without the exasperation.
“Do you hunt your prey like this?”
“What?”
“Do you,” He mumbled, pointing at you, then let his hand drop. The venom had really tired his body. “Hunt your prey like that? Bite, wrap, eat?”
“Dude,” You frowned. “I eat like a normal person.”
“What?”
“I eat food. Regular food.”
“Oh… That's less gross. But also boring because you're a spider-human.”
You shrugged. “Better than having to hunt to eat.”
“I thought you were going to eat me,” He looked at you up and down from the corner of his eyes with suspicion. “We didn't even mate, so that would be greedy.”
Oh, of course. Of course he thought you acted like female spiders that eat their partners due to sexual cannibalism.
“Some spiders actually eat them before mating, so.”
Panic rose in his face as soon as you said that, and he got up on his elbows to look at you.
“You're gonna eat me, then fuck me? That's so illegal,” He told you as if you didn't know. “We were just reaching an agreement, but I think I’m gonna have to kill you now.”
“I’m kidding,” You told him. “I mean, it's true, but I told you I don't do that stuff.”
He leaned closer from where he was lying down, watching you.
“You don't have more eyes?”
“No.”
“Not fuzzy like a tarantula?”
“As fuzzy as your next human.”
“Okay,” He dropped to the ground again, thinking out loud. “Why am I so tired?”
“It's just the venom. It makes you tired. But it's wearing off, don't worry.”
“You've said that a lot. ‘Don't worry’. ‘Sorry’. It's very unlike you.”
“I know,” You said. “But I wasn't lying. I know how you feel about drugs. I didn't want you to think this was going to do something to your body.”
“Well, that's good, because I was debating killing you for that. Imagine if I let a drug package with legs swing around and bite people?”
“I don't do that, Adrian Chase. You're only the third person that I ever bit.”
“Stop calling me Adrian Chase. That's weird. Just say Adrian.”
You nodded.
“Do you want me to walk you home?”
He was taken aback by the question.
Honestly, so were you. Why would you ask Vigilante of all people if he wanted to be walked home? That was weird.
“I have a car.”
“Right,” You nodded again and got up, looking around embarrassed.
Adrian didn't move from his spot on the ground. You took it as a win. You didn't know if you could fully trust him yet, and you doubted that he wouldn't try to attack if he desired. He always did, no matter how many times he lost.
“I could drop you off, though.”
“And see where I live?” You squinted, smirking. “Don't think so.”
He laughed a HA, pointing at you. “You got me there!”
Right after, the smile fell. “But I could still find you.”
“I thought we promised to leave each other alone?”
“Yeah,” He said, as if it disappointed him. “All this time, and I didn't get to beat you in a fight. This must be what blue balls feel like. I wouldn't know because I don't care about sex like that. I like it special. What about you? Wait, no, don't answer that. We’re not friends. I don't want us to bond.”
You raised your hands in surrender, then turned around to leave.
“Wait,” Adrian called. He was resting on his elbows again. “Promise me you’ll let me be Vigilante.”
You threw your arms around impatiently.
“I already did.”
He studied you, then removed one of his gloves and offered you his pinky.
You sighed a chuckle, tired but not any less amused by the action. You hadn't sealed a promise like this since you were, what, twelve?
You perched, forearms resting on your thighs.
“Is that how you seal all your deals?”
“Is that a sex joke? I told you we’re not bonding.”
It was probably really late in the night, because your sense of humour was getting vulnerable, making it hard to suppress a smile. You let your head fall with a small one, then removed your glove and entwined your pinky with his.
You looked at him intently.
“I promise to let you be Vigilante.”
He looked back the same way, even though his eyes gleamed with exhaustion.
“And I promise to leave you alone for good.”
You tightened the grip when he was ready to pull away.
“And my house.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, you can have the house.”
“And my dog.”
It hit right where you intended.
“I won't shoot your fucking dog!” He whined angrily.
You laughed this time, making him pull his hand back with an annoyed huff.
“See you around, Adrian.”
With his goodbye, you heard your name leave his mouth for the first time.
hope you enjoyed it!
also "why TYBALT" because benvolio is too long idk tybalt is such a dog name
sqq in my fic, in the mushroom body: i am doing an absolutely phenomenal job pretending to be just some random guy while befriending binghe right now
lbh, speaking to the camera: yeah, its really obvious that he's shizun. i'm enacting an elaborate twelve step plan to bring him back to me and make sure he stays forever. so far it's working
Can I request Murphy smut with a virgin!reader? She's from alpha station like Clarke and Wells, and he's been teasing/slightly bullying her since they've been on the ground. They get trapped together during some acid farm or nasty storm and Murphy makes some lewd jokes bout passing the time only to find out reader's a hardcore virgin who hasn't even had her first kiss yet. Major corruption kink on Murphy's end.
After screwing her stupid Murphy's like "you're mine now."
𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑫 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑴
A/N: here you go lovely! <3333 I hope you love it.
The sky split open in green lightning, the crack of thunder nearly swallowing your gasp as Murphy shoved you into the old shack just before the acid rain began to fall. The rotten wood groaned under the sudden assault, but it held.
“Great,” Murphy huffed, kicking the door shut behind him and bracing it with his back. His hair was plastered damp to his forehead, his sharp eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Guess it’s you and me, princess. Alone. For hours.”
You folded your arms tight, trying not to show how flustered you were. “Better than dying out there.”
Murphy smirked, stepping closer until you felt the heat radiating off him. “Depends who you ask.” His tone dripped with mockery. “Could be worse though—at least you’ve got me to keep you entertained.”
Your stomach twisted. He’d been teasing you since you hit the ground, always calling you “princess,” always smirking like he knew how badly he got under your skin. But now, with the storm raging outside, you had nowhere to run from him.
Murphy noticed your silence, his grin widening. “What’s wrong? Don’t like being stuck with me? Or are you afraid of what we might do to… pass the time?”
You scoffed, cheeks heating. “Don’t be gross.”
“Oh, I’m not being gross,” Murphy drawled, crowding you back until your shoulders bumped the wall. “I’m being honest. We’ve got hours. Nothing to do. No one to interrupt.” He leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “Bet you’ve thought about it.”
Your breath caught, your pulse racing. “I haven’t.”
That only made him chuckle darkly. “Liar.” His eyes flicked down your body before snapping back up to your face. “Unless…” He tilted his head, studying you. “Wait. Don’t tell me…” His grin went razor-sharp. “You’re a virgin.”
Your stomach dropped. You froze. That tiny, flickering pause gave you away.
Murphy’s jaw slackened, then his grin turned wicked. “Holy shit. You are, aren’t you?” His voice dipped lower, husky with disbelief. “Haven’t even been kissed yet, princess?”
You turned your face away, embarrassed. “Murphy—”
“Fuck.” His laugh was low and incredulous, his hand sliding up the wall beside your head. “That is… delicious.” His smirk sharpened. “Here I was, thinking you were just playing hard to get. Turns out you’re all sweet and untouched. Waiting for someone to ruin you.”
You swallowed hard. “Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” Murphy’s voice was a growl now, his thumb brushing your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t talk about how badly I want to be your first? Don’t tell you how fucking hot it is that no one’s had you yet? That the first time you moan, the first time you beg, the first time you scream someone’s name—it’s gonna be me?”
Your knees nearly buckled at his words. “Murphy…”
He groaned, kissing you hard before you could say more. His mouth was demanding, filthy, everything your innocent imagination hadn’t dared to picture. His tongue slid against yours, pulling a breathless sound from your throat.
“Fuck, that’s your first kiss, isn’t it?” Murphy muttered, lips dragging to your neck. “Christ, I can feel you shaking. You’re mine now, princess. All mine.”
His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against the hard line of his body. You gasped, the evidence of his arousal pressing into you making your head spin.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his forehead resting against yours. “If you want me to, I will. But if you don’t…” His hand slipped down to your thigh, squeezing hard. “…I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”
You whimpered. “Don’t stop.”
That was all he needed.
Murphy’s hand shoved into your pants, fingers finding you wet and needy. He cursed, his teeth biting into your shoulder. “You’re soaked. Fuck. Little virgin pussy aching for me already.”
Your head tipped back against the wall as his fingers teased your clit. The storm outside was nothing compared to the thunder in your chest, the lightning in your veins.
“Murphy—” you gasped, clinging to him.
“Say it.” His lips dragged against your ear. “Say you’re mine.”
You were too far gone to resist. “I’m yours—”
He groaned like the words undid him. His pants were down in seconds, and then he was pressing against you, lining up at your entrance. “Gonna hurt for a second, princess. But fuck, you’ll thank me after.”
And then he thrusts in.
Your cry was swallowed by his mouth, his tongue sliding deep as he bottomed out in one rough stroke. The sting had you trembling, but his hand was already on your clit, soothing, coaxing.
“Shit,” Murphy hissed, buried to the hilt. “So fucking tight. Can barely move. Perfect little virgin cunt squeezing me like it was made for me.”
Tears blurred your eyes, but the pleasure was sparking fast, drowning out the ache. You clung to him as he began to move, each thrust harder, deeper, filthier.
“Look at you,” he groaned, kissing you hard. “First time, and you’re already cock-drunk. Bet no one else could ever fuck you like this. Bet you’ll never want anyone else.”
The pressure built fast, his dirty words fueling the fire until you were crying out, nails digging into his shoulders.
“That’s it, princess. Cum for me. Cum on your first cock.”
You shattered around him, your body clenching so tight he swore viciously, driving into you harder until he spilled inside you with a broken groan.
He collapsed against you, panting, his teeth sinking into your neck as if to mark you.
“You’re mine now,” Murphy whispered fiercely, voice wrecked. “No one else is ever gonna touch you. You hear me? You belong to me.”
The storm raged outside, but in that little shack, Murphy had already claimed you—body and soul.
"This is embarrassing," Clu sighs. He and Tron each take one of Flynn's arms, hoisting the user to his feet. He's dead weight, drunk and laughing and no help at all. Tron can sense Clu's annoyance as other patrons of the EoL point and snicker. Tron adjusts his hold on Flynn, protective.
"You can stay," he says. "I've got him."
Clu raises a brow. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Tron says. "I'll make sure he gets back to the portal in time."
"Alright." Clu extracates himself from their Flynn-sandwich. "Just don't let him fall in the sea."
Flynn swats at his program, grumbling. Tron keeps him from tipping over. "That happened—one time."
Clu snickers, side-stepping the user's swipe. "Be careful. Both of you."
"Yeah, yeah," Flynn grumbles.
Clu returns to the bar as Tron steers Flynn towards the exit. Programs in the crowd gawk and laugh, and Tron can't really blame them. They're an odd sight—the System Monitor half carrying an impaired user through a club. Still, the crowd's laughter is good natured. They part to let the pair pass.
Once they've finally made it in the elevator, Tron leans against the back wall, holding Flynn against his chest. It's nice to have the user to himself, behind closed doors.
Flynn seems to agree. His head lolls against Tron's shoulder now that they're still. His breath is warm; it tickles Tron's circuits.
"Hi, Tron," Flynn murmurs, sleepy.
"Hi, Flynn."
The user presses closer, looks at Tron with glassy eyes and leans in for a kiss. He tastes like the drinks he downed earlier, and he's all but buzzing with energy. Tron holds him tighter as the elevator plummets. Flynn hums into his mouth.
"You're hot," he sighs.
"My temperature is within standard parameters."
"Was that a joke?"
"Maybe." Tron tries not to smirk. "You're drunk."
"Nuh-uh," Flynn says, insulted. He hiccups. Then sighs dramatically, dropping his head back to Tron's shoulder. "Oh man, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, but this might be a bad time."
Trepidation prickles up Tron's spine.
"Oh? What's that?"
"Mmmm. Ok. But promise—you'll be honest with me. No matter what."
"I promise."
Flynn looks up at him with big, sad eyes. Completely earnest.
"Would you still love me if I was a gridbug?"
Tron doesn't know what he expected.
"Of course," he says, deadpan. "You already act like one."
The elevator doors open. Flynn squawks as Tron scoops him up and carries him away.
Good question, @outlasttrials-reagent05329067 !! (I hope it's okay to @ you, this felt better suited as a post than a reply)
How would the hybrid prime assets react to their favourite reagent(s) smelling like other people? :
Just a small note, I do not do x reader stuff often, but I don't fully consider reagent stuff to be x reader, it depends though; I'm fine doing scenarios with the characters reacting to things with reagents, but I likely won't do any like "short reagent" or "trans reagent" or anything that is particularly focused on the reagent being more of a character if that makes sense??
Leland Coyle :
- very aggressive and territorial. Pissed about this
- 100% taking it as an insult and an injustice
- sniffs you very aggressively at first, probably growls a bit too
- you're getting pissed on, sorry. That's how dogs mark their territory and that's what he's doing!
- he does not ask either, you're getting jumped
- does not care if you find it disgusting either, you'll need to wait till he calms, until then you're forced to stay as you are, his scent has to stick after all
- he'll probably also shock you with his cattle prod for a while as well. Revenge or whatever
- if the scent is someone he recognises he's going for them. They're getting bit (if he can bite them anyways, he'll probably still try even if he can't tho). Also gets really paranoid about it, accuses you of plotting against him with others
- this man has anger issues and is pissed at you for a while even after "correcting" you
Franco Barbi :
- pretty territorial as well, upset
- sniffs loudly and aggressively, bites you upon first sniff
- calls you a whore, probably accuses you of not thinking him good enough. Something something "you'd be so lucky"
- starts grooming (licking) you (the way rabbits show dominance)
- also "chinning" you (rubbing his scent glands on you). It's how rabbits mark things as their property
- will not give up. May even throw a tantrum if you try stop him
- if he recognises the scent it's even worse. He will be even more pissed about that, also incredibly insecure. Thinks he's not good enough or that you hate him, not that he'll say it
Mother gooseberry :
- sort of depends how she sees you, but overall pretty protective
- sniffs LOUDLY
- Bears have a great sense of smell and they rely on it a lot, so she's a little peeved by it. Sort of feels (smells) like there's a whole 'nother person in the room
- probably forces you to wash it off. She prefers your actual scent, as protective as she is. If she can't wash it off then she'll replace it with her own
- rubs against you like a tree to scent you
- keeps you close, perhaps sees it as you being in danger. Treats you like a child who's been with strangers, asks you a lot of questions and pushes you for answers if you don't give them
- if it's someone she recognises she might actually be calmer about it
- futterman probably calls you a whore
- if you and her have a sexual relationship she's more likely to push her scent onto you and to "punish" you. If she sees you as her child she'll be more motherly about it, but you're probably still getting punished, it'll just be in a different way
Liliya Bogomolova :
- bothered. Very territorial of her "followers"
- sees this as you rejecting her and her faith, sort of like some form of blasphemy (? Unsure of the right term, I am not religious myself)
- doesn't need to, but she will hold you in place to sniff you. It's quiet but she's pressing her nose directly against your skin
- likely hisses a few times
- starts rubbing against you aggressively and preaching at you
- probably stabs you a few times
- leaves lots of claw marks on you too
- forces you to pray for forgiveness and treats bathing you like it's a baptism of sorts
Otto & Arora :
- Arora doesn't necessarily notice, but Otto does
- he's offended, as is she when she finds out you've been with others
- they're slut shaming you even if you didn't sleep with anyone
- Otto sniffs very loudly just to make a point. He's holding you by the scruff like a cat when he does so
- they bicker briefly on if Otto should scent you or if you should be bathed
- in the end it's both. You get bathed and then Otto ensures you smell like him and Arora
- he does this by rubbing against you and then giving you one of auroras pieces of clothing to wear
- you have no choice here, any protests are being treated like a misbehaving pet barking or scratching, aka you're getting tutted at and told off
- if it's someone they know or recognise they'll probably pretend to bring you to them and leave you there. Like how parents sometimes pretend to abandon their kids when they misbehave
- very disappointed that you're hanging out with "lesser" people as well. Lesser is. Anyone who isn't them quite frankly
Someone once said "I'm balancing my feral tendencies and intellectual pursuits" and that's how I think Herbert feels when he's romantically interested in someone 😅
