#And several androids even seem to put off removing their LED until they have no choice like Rupert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mandala-lore · 3 years

Text

Program: Scrapbook - Chap. 1: Activation

I choose to believe Dr. Soong DID leave memories for Data on the emotion chip. I see the canon and I politely decline. I’m planning a few more of these chapters, in which Data will watch these memories play out on the holodeck and then have brief commentary after each one. I would apologize for the female OC but, y’know, if the writers had given Data a decent romance arc, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Anyway, I’m particularly pleased with my Lore characterizations so I hope other people enjoy pain as much as I do. :)

This is more or less canon compliant, except that at some point, Data reactivated Lore for research purposes...and, of course, the sinlord promptly escaped into the galaxy. For later plot reasons.

Also posted on ao3.

“Here. We. Go.” Dr. Soong took a tentative step back to give his new creation some room. Over the last few stages, they had learned that android activation could be at least as traumatic and confusing as human birth. Julianna squeezed his hand gently.

The constructed body on the table opened its eyes and sat up slowly, looking dazed. As the eyes adjusted and learned to blink, the new lifeform jerkily tilted its head one way, then the other, trying to process stimuli.

“Hello,” Juliana ventured. “Do you know who we are?”

The new man fixed his piercing, yellow eyes on the human couple before him, then gazed off into space. Dr. Soong held his breath, wondering if this new one would fail like the earlier prototypes. Then the new android’s head swiveled clumsily to face them again.

“Juliana and Noonian Soong. Mother. Father. I am… Day-tah.”

Dr. Soong clapped his hands in victory. “Very good!”

“Yes!” Juliana laughed. “That’s right.”

As new sensations overwhelmed him – his father’s hands clapping together, his mother’s proud laughter – Data’s head jerked just slightly. He started to wave back and forth, and Dr. Soong put an arm around his new child to stabilize him.

“That’s alright, son. Take a minute. Let everything come to you slowly.” He unconsciously pat the android’s back – a human reaction, a fatherly impulse. “That’s it. Very good.”

Data seemed steady now as he curiously surveyed the room: scientific instruments, computer monitors, plastic dinosaurs, potted plants, light fixtures, doors. His head movements were still jerky and awkward, but he didn’t seem in any danger of falling over.

“Data,” Juliana’s voice startled him again and drew his attention back to the front of the room. She smiled warmly, “Data, there’s someone else you should meet.”

From the open door behind her, a tall figure in black stepped cautiously into the light. He stood stiffly next to Juliana. The man’s expression was good-humored, but unimpressed. “He looks…confused.”

“Data, do you know who this is? Take your time, sweety.” She led the other man gently by the elbow and put his hands out for Data to investigate.

There were several long seconds of silence. Data tilted his head compulsively a few times, searching, cross-referencing, processing. “Lore. Brother.” He answered hesitantly. “Hell-OH, I am a Day-tah.” He shook Lore’s hand brutishly from side to side.

Lore snickered. “Oh, yeah. I like him.” He loomed over his brother and slid his own arm back to his side, stepping back near Juliana. “Uh. Is anyone gonna give the poor kid some clothes?”

“Clothes.” Data repeated. “Clothing. Atire. Garments. Outfit.”

“Come on, little brother. Let’s find you some pants.” Lore shook his head, amused, and took Data’s hand again. He led him down from the table. Looking pleased with himself and focused entirely on Lore’s movements, Data hopped down, tried putting one foot on top of the other… And promptly fell over on his side. He sprawled, naked and perplexed, on the floor of the lab. He stared at his legs, seeming unsure how to correct the issue.

Lore laughed harder and Data helplessly mirrored his brother’s earlier smirk. “Oh dear,” Juliana sighed.

Dr. Soong growled in exasperation. “No, no, no! He’s not ready yet. Lore, help me with him.” Together they lifted Data to his feet and waited for him to stand steady before removing their arms from underneath his. His knees buckled for a moment, but Lore caught his brother before he could slip again. “Alright. Now, slowly. Slowly. One step at a time,” their father commanded.

Juliana went to a cupboard and pulled out a robe. “Here, Data. Can you walk toward me?” She beamed with pride as Lore and Noonian, on either side of Data, released his arms but shadowed his every hesitant step. With each footfall, one, two, three, four, five, Data seemed more confident, until he managed the last leg of the path standing tall and unguided by his family.

“Wonderful, Data!” Juliana wrapped the robe around her son and hugged him, planting a kiss on his cheek. Data looked stunned and turned obediently when Juliana guided him back around to face his father and brother.

Lore looked amused but still unimpressed. “You sure he’s my twin and not another B-4 unit, often wrong?”

Noonian glared at his son and swatted his arm. “Data is performing well beyond established parameters. It took you hours just to adjust the noise level of your voice, problem child. Not to mention your struggles with ocular focus. Juliana had to train you to speak softly and learn to use your eyes. For days, I thought we’d have a blind and screaming android forever. It was like you were possessed.”

“I don’t know,” Lore shrugged as they watched Juliana take Data on a tour of the room. “I guess it’s hard to improve on perfection.” He winked at his father. “I’m speaking of me, of course. Not you.”

“Yeah, I got it. Don’t you have something constructive to be doing, rather than insulting me and your brother?”

“Oh, no. I’ve waited a week for this. Fraternal rivalry and developing my Oedipus complex is about as constructive as I plan to be today.”

Dr. Soong smiled despite his disapproval of Lore’s developing sense of humor. Eventually, Juliana guided Data to a chair. Lore opened his mouth, no doubt to barrage them all with more disparaging remarks, but instead, a disembodied voice announced: “End of simulation.”

“Data,” Neva finally released a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. She didn’t know what to say. “Data, was that real? I mean, that was really a recording?”

“Yes,” Data replied. “It appears my father kept extensive holo-records. We have just watched the first memory he left for me inside the emotion chip.”

A stranger may have looked at Commander Data and assumed the holodeck memory program had no impact on him, but his friends would know better. Data was blinking more rapidly than normal, staring straight ahead, brow slightly furrowed, as if not quite ready to face his companion. He was also absent-mindedly toying with the device in his hand. Neva had long ago remarked that Data fidgeted when nervous; he had replied that, although he did occasionally make repeated movements when faced with specific stimuli, he was incapable of nervousness as an android. They had debated the issue for a long time, until one day Data relented only that perhaps his programming had developed such a habit to mimic human nerves. Since experimenting with the emotion chip, however, he had haltingly admitted that some level of emotion had already developed on its own, such as the nervous tics.

“Data, this is wonderful.” Neva touched his elbow lightly, to remind him he didn’t have to face any of it alone. “What are you thinking? Feeling?”

He looked at her, reached thankfully for her hand. Their fingers intertwined. He looked older somehow, a little sad. It was a look he wore more and more frequently, Neva had noticed, since using the emotion chip. She could guess it had something to do with reviewing memories of experiences he had lived before developing emotions, now reflecting on them emotionally, and processing the regret. This new development, finally accessing memories of his life that were previously blocked from him, could only compound that pain and confusion.

“I am uncertain.” He admitted finally. “I cannot help but wish Lore had remained here, so I could discuss these memories with him.”

“I think that’s only natural.”

“I also feel…jealous. I am jealous that Lore retained these memories while I…” He trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

“Your father erased them. Are you angry?” She knew Data was still uncomfortable processing emotions he interpreted as negative, or wrong; they conflicted with his self-image and confused his ethical programming.

“Perhaps. But I think I feel more…regret. Sadness. I wish I had more time to ask Dr. Soong questions. I wish Lore were…better than he is. But, perhaps these memories will answer some of my questions.”

Neva smiled. Data was a wonder, even and especially when he thought he was failing. “Do you want me to stay? I can go, if you prefer privacy.”

“I am not sure what these memories will contain, so I do not feel comfortable asking you to stay. But…I do not wish for privacy. I think I would like support.” He tilted his head, almost phrasing it as a question.

“I’m happy to stay. I only asked because… Well, recovering my memories was traumatic. When they came back, I was kind of a mess. I’m glad nobody saw me like that. But you’re…you, so I don’t think you have to worry.” She squeezed his hand and nodded at the device. “Ready when you are.”

He squeezed her hand back and activated the next memory program. The holodeck shifted and changed.

#data (start trek)#data soong #lore soong #st:tng #st: tng #data fic #fanfic #my writing #if someone could please surgically remove this damn android from my brain i'd appreciate it #when i have to explain to my students on monday why their projects still aren't graded i can't tell them i've been writing star trek fanfic #anyway i love this family and their completely twisted dynamics #mine

14 notes · View notes

connorandersons-blog · 4 years

Text

» Day 4 (Thursday): Broken / Proposal- kamski/connor

Rating: Mature Word count: 2,640 Warnings: threat of rape, smut, subspace

I’ll put [] around the area with the threat of rape so you can skip it if you want.

@dbhrarepairs

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

It surprised no one when humans and androids started making weapons to use against androids. It was only a matter of time until Connor was hit by one.

He'd been running after a suspect when something came out of the shadows and hit him on his head. No one suspected that there had been more than one person, it turns out they were wrong.

[ Connor went to stand and gasped as his neck port opened. That was one of the most sensitive places on him, and all he could do was lay still.

If he moved too much it could cause extra damage, but if he didn't whoever had hit him could easily disable him.

"You're all fucking pathetic," the woman snickered. He flinched when he felt her fingers move around in his neck. She brushed against something and he let out a strangled moan before gritting his teeth.

The woman stopped then started laughing hysterically. "Can't fucking believe this." She did the same thing again laughing.

Connor growled out, trying to stop the feeling from affecting him. "Stop, you're under arrest." He ground out.

"This is too good, I almost want to not put this little device on you. You see, this takes away your feelings. All of them, including your senses." He felt when she clipped it onto a wire that led to his brain.

It was instant, his body going slack. He could register everything but he couldn't feel it. Even the fingers in the neck didn't affect him. ]

What he did notice was that he still felt emotions, but it was like he wasn't deviant again.

He barely reacted when he heard the gunshot and felt blood splatter against him.

The body fell onto him but was quickly pulled off. "Fuck, Connor what did she do?"

He quickly stood up, reaching to the back of his neck. He tried to take off the device but pulled back when a shock went through his sensors.

"She implanted something into my neck, it stops my emotions and ability to feel things," he sighed, looking at Hank.

Hank stared at him for a few seconds before poking his cheek. Connor blinks at him before batting the hand away.

"Well, shit. Uh, I'm actually not sure what to do, I'd ask how you are but obviously, you're not good," Hank shrugged.

There were plenty of places that were basically hospitals for androids, now. Even some actual hospitals had places for androids to come to get help.

There was one person who could definitely help him. He'd been going to him for updates because he was unique so going to the normal places didn't have what he'd need.

"We should see Kamski, I'm sure he'll find a way to remove this." He closed his neck and rubbed at the skin.

Hank nodded and looked around before jogging over to the other officers that had arrived.

After a few minutes, he jogged back over, placing a hand on Connor's shoulder. "Alright, kid let's go. I've been given the clear.

Connor nodded and followed after him numbly. He didn't even tap his fingers to the music in the car, which was a definite sign that something was wrong.

Normally he'd at least do that, though he often hummed or even sang along to whatever was on.

The drive was silent, but Hank kept glancing at Connor with worried eyes.

They got there quickly, but that was mostly because Hank had sped at least twenty over the speed limit.

They both walked up to the door, Connor knocking and giving a small smile to Leena when she opened the door. She was a Chloe model but decided to change her name after deviation.

"Connor! I didn't know you had any new updates available… and Lieutenant Anderson, it's good to see you again," she said, already moving back to let them in.

Hank sighed and gave her a tight-lipped smile. "We need to see Kamski, some bitch did something to Connor."

Leena looked between the two before nodding, "I've informed the others and Elijah if you'll follow me."

She led them down hallways and into Kamski's lab. Connor had been there many times, but each time he was led.

Kamski was sitting at his desk, his hair up in his normal style. If Kamski was working he always had it back, but afterward, Connor would sometimes see him take it down.

He looked up and gave a small smile, then looked at Hank. "What do I owe this pleasure?" He stood and clasped his hands in front of him.

"Like I told, uh-" he glanced at the Chloe model.

"Leena."

"Like I told Leena, a crazy bitch did something to Connor. He can't take it off himself so we came to you." Kamski nodded and stepped towards Connor, looking over him.

Connor felt something stir in him but he didn't know what. He had felt this before but now it felt like there was a fogged glass between him and it.

"Fascinating. Let's get you hooked up to a computer, see what we're dealing with," Kamski says, walking back to his computer. He motions to the platform for Connor.

He stepped up and flinched slightly when his neck opened again. He wasn't connected physically to a device as most androids would be. Kamski had made this for him after he had a few upgrades.

He hated the feeling of being held up by the most common machines and he expressed that to Kamski. He had nodded and the next time he came by he had made this.

Hank stood by and watched every movement from Connor's ready to stop this if need be.

It took a few minutes before Kamski made a soft humming sound. "Interesting. Lieutenant, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room."

"Fuck no, I'm staying with Connor!" Hank said, stepping closer to Connor.

"I'm positive you won't want to witness this. I can promise you he won't be in pain… not unless he wants to be," Kamski said, standing.

Hank looked between the two, "I don't trust you. But, I trust Connor."

"I'll be fine, he won't hurt me," Connor nodded. Hank sighed and looked between the two again before following Leena out.

Once the door was closed Kamski held his hand out, helping Connor step down. "So, I'm sure you're wondering how I'm going to fix this mess."

Connor watched him as he circles him, feeling slightly uneasy. He was never truly afraid of Kamski. Kamski was fascinated by Connor and Connor in him.

"Well, what they've attached to you makes your emotions stop. In your case, it's a bit different. Because of your advancements, it just dulls yours." Kamski walks to stand in front of him.

He has a look on his face that Connor can't seem to place. It wasn't the first time Kamski had looked at him like this.

"I can manually take it off, but that seems to have severe consequences. So, it seems like I'll need to make you feel a strong emotion. The obvious one is pain, whoever that isn't the only one." Kamski raises an eyebrow, a small smirk on his face.

Connor quickly shook his head, "no thank you."

"Fear?"

"No."

"Hate?"

"Definitely not." Kamski nodded and took a step closer, his hand gently running up Connor's arm. He shivered slightly, eyes wide as he stared down at Kamski.

"Lust?" He asked, his voice low and husky. Connor gasped softly when Kamski's hand reached his neck.

Connor nodded and Kamski smiled. He slowly pushed Connor back until his back was against the wall, and their chests were touching. "I wonder how long this will take you?"

Then Kamski licked a small strip up his neck. He sighed and turned his head, giving him easier access. He wasn't expecting the bite that came next, making his knees feel weak.

Even with the device, he could feel the want roll through him. He grabbed Kamski's hips, pulling him closer.

Kamski smiled and pulled completely away making Connor whine. "Now, now, don't you worry, you'll get what you want." Kamski slowly walked over to his desk and sat down. "Come here," he ordered and Connor was quick to obey.

He walked over and sighed happily when Kamski started to unbutton his shirt for him. "Such a good boy," Kamski muttered as he finally got the shirt undone. Connor whimpered softly as Kamski caressed him and looked him over again.

"Hm, do you like that? Do you like being a good boy?" Kamski asked, looking up at him. Though their position may not seem like it, Connor knew Kamski was in control here.

Connor quickly nodded his head, causing Kamski to chuckle. "On your knees." And Connor quickly knelt down, eyes wide.

Kamski stood up slowly and pushed his chair away. He leaned against his desk and stared Connor down. If Connor didn't know Kamski so well, he'd think he was emotionless, but he could see something behind his eyes.

Kamski ran a hand through Connor's hair. He pushed up against the hand, eyes closing. He always enjoyed when people played with his hair, but this was definitely different. Kamski took a handful and yanked, causing Connor to gasp and his eyes fly open. "What do you want?"

Connor moved forward, nuzzling at Kamski's clothed cock. He was glad to find that he was starting to get hard too.

"Such a good boy," Kamski sighed out, one hand in Connor's hair the other gripping the edge of the desk.

Connor reached for his zipper but looked up fist. Kamski gave a slight nod and Connor pulled his pants down, returning to nuzzling. He went to reach up to touch Kamski but hissed when his hair was yanked.

"You can take off my underwear, but you are not allowed to touch yourself or touch me with your hands. Do you understand?" Kamski asked.

Connor nodded quickly and went to pull down Kamski's underwear but stopped short again at the yank. "Use your words."

"Yes sir," Connor mumbled, slightly unsure. Kamski gave an actual smile and loosened his grip on Connor's hair.

Connor took that as the invitation it was and pulled down Kamski's underwear. He kept his arms at his sides, fingers twitching with a want to touch.

Connor licked a strip from the base to tip, feeling a sense of pride bubble up when Kamski's hand tightened around his hair. It was still foggy, but it was easier to feel than before.

He did that a few more times, lapping at the head before taking him into his mouth. For a couple of seconds, he just sat there, enjoying the sensation.

He knew he had an oral fixation after he chewed on one too many pens, so he wasn't surprised at how much he liked the weight of Kamski's dick in his mouth.

"Do you like this? You like my cock in your mouth? I bet you'd let me fuck your throat." Kamski groaned, still watching him with those eyes. It was like he could see right through him to his soul.

Connor moaned around Kamski at the idea, looking up at him through his lashes. "Very well, tap my foot three times if you need to stop," Kamski said before thrusting into his mouth.

Connor whined, loving the feeling of Kamski pushing into him while gripping his hair to move his head in time.

He didn't have a gag reflex like humans but he did have wires in his neck and Connor could feel Kamski's dick brush against them. He had to clench his fist to stop himself from coming right then and there and to stop himself from touching either of them.

"Fuck, fuck, Connor so good. You're doing so well taking my cock," Kamski praised. His face was flushed and his eyes trained on Connor while panting.

Connor tried to suck and lick while keeping his mouth pliant for Kamski. He kept a brutal pace, the hand on Connor's hair never loosening.

Kamski panted out his name, having to lean heavily on his desk. "Are you going to be a good boy and swallow my cum? Hm?" He asked as his thrust became more uncontrolled.

Connor swallowed around him and gave a deep hum, not looking away from Kamski's for a second.

He hadn't realized that the device stopped working until they were both coming, Kamski down Connor's throat and Connor in his pants.

Connor swallowed everything but didn't pull his head away. He loved the feeling and didn't want it to end.

"Such a good boy, you did so well, Connor. You can touch yourself now," Kamski said, his voice gruff.

Connor did pull off then and looked down at his pants, the stain clear. He often didn't wear underwear, and today was one of those days.

Kamski's hand went slack for a moment then he chuckled and stroked through his hair gently. "You came just from that? Have you ever had sex before?"

Connor paused for a second and starts to blush, ducking his head. "I…" he shakes his head, words seeming to fail him.

Kamski sucks in air and crouches, gently raising Connor's head by placing a hand under his chin. Connor doesn't look him in the eye, instead staring at the ground. "Connor… you did amazing. I'm sorry it was under these circumstances."

Connor finally looks up, eyes wide. Kamski gently brushes the hair away from Connor's face and places a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Connor sighs and leans into him, and makes a small happy noise when Kamski wraps his arms around him.

"You did so well, baby. You do need new pants, so either I can go get you some or Chloe can." Kamski chuckles when Connor holds him even tighter. "Alright, Chloe will get them."

Connor wasn't exactly sure how'd she know to get them but didn't question it, just clinging onto Kamski.

His head felt foggy, but not the same from the device and he was somewhat dizzy. It was like he was floating.

He jolts when he hears the door open, but Kamski soothes him with soft words and touches. "Thank you," Kamski murmurs to who, Connor assumes, is a Chloe.

"Alright, I've got some flavored thirium and a soft outfit for you. Do you want help changing?" Kamski asks softly. He leans back and Connor whines but nods his head.

Kamski stands and helps Connor off the floor before helping him change. He doesn't know where Kamski got these clothes from but they are big even on him. They are also incredibly soft against his overly sensitive skin.

After he's changed he sips on the thirium. "I'm going to remove the device. After that, if you want, I can get the Lieutenant." Connor quickly shook his head at the last comment.

He loves Hank, but for some reason, he didn't want the man to see him like this. Kamski seems to understand, and gently pressed at his neck before reaching in and pulling the device off.

"I'm going to sit at my desk and try to see if I can learn any more from this device, you can join me if you want." At Connor's nod, he leads them both to the chair. Kamski sits down and after he's comfortable Connor sits down on his lap sideways. He rests his head on his shoulder and lets his eyes fall closed.

"Drink the rest of your thirium, baby, then you can sleep, ok?" Kamski says as he connects the device to his computer.

Connor nods and drinks the rest, only now appreciating the flavor. Once it's empty, Kamski takes the bottle and tosses it into the trash can. Connor sighs happily as Kamski strokes his hair as he falls asleep.

23 notes · View notes

detroitbecomeyandere · 5 years

Text

Carnal (Nines x Reader)

This is baby’s first post, which you can also find on AO3!

Darkness

This was all his doing. Everything was determined by him and if he desired you this way, then there you would stay until the end of your days if that's what he wished. And God, you knew deep within every fiber of your being that you would stay there if it meant satisfying him for even a fraction of a second.

He could have everything that constructed you, down to your dignity, and he would effortlessly take it with satisfaction dripping from his lips as he smiled.

He stood stoically, a god amongst men, intently analyzing the humans before him who he must’ve held with little regard. His LED alternated between blue and yellow as he slowly scanned each individual in the room, storing their information away for whatever reason he saw fit. Those eyes, frozen over with apathy, finally found their way to you-his new human partner.

You couldn’t possibly place why, CyberLife wouldn’t have assigned their prodigal son to just anybody. Perhaps his creators believed you could give him the highest rate of success in future cases? Highly doubtful, but in hindsight, you were content being left in ignorant bliss.

He was met with the same level of decency and warmth you showed to everyone regardless of what constructed their humanity, or lack thereof. You refused to be a product of an environment that only had room for bigotry and disdain towards all of android kind. This attitude had earned you more enemies than friends around the department, but you wouldn’t let that animosity stray you from your core beliefs.

That was your first mistake-introducing him to an unfamiliar kindness that caused his LED to flicker a stark red before returning to its calm blue state.

He regarded your act of camaraderie briefly, tilting his head slightly as his LED went amber for a moment. His gaze then moved to you and he locked hands with yours; whether it was to humor you or it was genuine is still lost on you.

Your smile widened at his reciprocation as you introduced yourself. You told him how excited you were to be working together, earning a few eye rolls from around the office. He just continued to stare at you, his face not giving away any hint of emotion.

An unexplainable chill wracked you, and just as a nervous laugh began to form in your throat his grip on you tightened, bordering on painful. You winced as he pulled you closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered,

“I’m very much looking forward to our partnership.”

Your body was aching for more, and you parted your lips to delicately touch your tongue to the pad of his thumb. Amused, he pushed it into your mouth, allowing you to suck on the digit lightly. After a moment, he let the artificial skin covering his hand retreat and you familiarized yourself with the taste that was uniquely him.

Feeling bold, you bit down on the smooth plastic just enough for it to resonate in his pain receptors. For a second he froze, and you gently dragged your teeth along his thumb before he withdrew his hand completely from your face.

How foolish of you to think that the deer could outmatch the wolf.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to do as you please, teacup.”

Teacup.

You recalled when he first called you that; the two of you had been working together for a couple of weeks and had been assigned to investigate a supposed red ice drug den. It was located in a condemned building on the outskirts of Detroit. The drive there had been silent, but a tense atmosphere hung heavy in the air.

Nines, as you had taken to calling him, was not one for idle chit-chat and only spoke to anyone when it proved to be beneficial. While you assumed that was just a protocol woven into his programming, he displayed a level of haughtiness that seemed to be outside of those zeroes and ones.

Maybe that’s part of his programming too, you thought as you let out a humorless chuckle. Nines glanced at you with those eyes you believed could freeze Hell over, and you blushed under his gaze. His LED blipped red, and just as quickly as it appeared, returned to blue-again. He informed you that the two of you had reached your destination and you acknowledged him with a stuttered thank you as he exited the car. Taking a few deep breaths you quickly followed suit and caught up with Nines, trotting alongside him.

While Nines was analyzing the scene and scanning for possible traces of thirium, you went off on your own to search for a lead.

The foundation was rotting, long forgotten by the city to be demolished and thus remained standing much to nature’s chagrin. You proceeded with caution, making your way forward in hopes of finding promising evidence. It had slipped your mind to ask Nines to check the structural integrity of the building before splitting up; any chance you got to escape from him you eagerly welcomed.

A loose ceiling beam had collapsed, bringing it and surrounding debris crashing down dangerously close to you. You let out a surprised yelp, instinctively jumping back and immediately meeting with Nines' chest.

You looked back at him, perplexed by his hold on you and his newfound lack of formalities. The look in his eyes, one that regarded you in a way you had never seen before, had your breath hitching suddenly. It could almost be associated with hunger, desire, need-emotions you never fathomed he could be capable of.

“T-teacup?” It was all you could muster as his hands slid down from your shoulders to your forearms, rubbing circles with his fingertips causing your skin to prickle at the sensation. He let out a low laugh as he gently turned you around, taking your chin in his hand.

A simple touch was enough to exude the power he held over you, and your second mistake came when you didn’t break from his hold. Instead you embraced it; the deer went to the wolf on her own volition.

A pointless endeavor, but Nines knew the extent of your tenacity and took pleasure in watching your attempts all the same. A hand found its way to your neck, slender fingers wrapping around it and applying enough pressure to cause your breaths to staccato.

His teeth nibbled your ear lobe before whispering, “I want all of your attention. Focus.”

A phrase that has slipped from your lips time and time again found its way out once more, “Yes sir,” you said between pants, arching your back as he traced a nipple idly. He hummed in satisfaction before giving the bud a sharp pinch, pulling a gasp from you at the heightened sensation.

You were desperate for more, for anything. Every touch, breath, kiss had your body singing and you prayed his generosity would continue.

But the only one who would answer those prayers was Nines himself; he wanted you on your knees, yes, but not for praying. He would have you fall to the floor begging before he even considered giving you what you wanted, what you absolutely craved.

This song and dance wasn’t new to you; your pride was lost long ago after countless times of falling prey to the hypnotic score he masterfully composed.

Nines was unpredictable, and the constant uncertainty of what he had in store for you made your blood burn. But everything he did was meticulously calculated, that much you knew, and he no doubt took advantage of his pre-constructing software that was intended for investigations. He resumed his place over you, and a sigh of content started to escape from your lips.

It quickly turned into a hitched breath as you felt the edge of a blade against the side of your neck, it’s cold bite making you still completely.

This-this was something new.

The unfamiliar sensation was met with a newfound realization of how truly in control Nines was. No one would ever be able to hold this much authority over you and he was more than aware of it. The way he could map out every single vein, dragging the knife’s point over them with precision, it was a warped sense of intimacy that had you reeling knowing only he could ever truly know you.

You were past the point of no return.

The cool steel found its way to the delicate skin of your hips-by then you were already shuddering and shallow breaths escaped you incessantly. The sheer intensity of not having any indication of your surroundings was going to throw you over the precipice of insanity soon, and he knew all that and more with just one simple scan of your body. He let out an amused huff as he traced circles lazily over your thighs, painfully close to your throbbing core.

“You seem troubled, what could possibly be the matter,” he asked nonchalantly, placing his free hand over your waist and you nearly moaned at the contact.

Your thoughts were hazy, clouded over with a building lust, and you pathetically tried to sputter out a response but to no avail. His patience was waning-albeit it slowly-and he graciously decided to reward you.

A slender finger found its way in between your legs and this time you couldn’t hold back a whimper for what could only be described as touch starved ecstasy. His deft fingers traced up and down your folds, his thumb resting on your clit with just enough pressure to make you wriggle beneath his touch.

“Perhaps this will placate your tension, teacup,” he murmured against your hip, his tongue tracing it as two fingertips lingered tantalizing close to your entrance. And your final push over the edge was when he wasted no time to delve into you up to the knuckle.

“Look at you,” he muttered, adding a third finger without missing a beat. His other hand had discarded the knife and gripped your hip with a bruising force as he continued to thrust into you, slowing his pace drastically.

You abandoned whatever little remained of your pride in that moment and begged for him to speed up once more, hoping your promises of “being a good girl” would entice him.

The comment wasn’t meant to be an offense to you, rather, he was commending himself on what he alone could do to you. This version of yourself that he could create and revel in-it was entirely his to own, to touch, to fuck. His predecessor prided himself on always accomplishing his mission, and to Nines, you were no exception to the claim.

He stilled within you, leaning in close enough that his lips brushed against yours. Barely a whisper, he demanded, “Tell me what you want.” And just like that the fog cleared; you could see the entrance to the wolf’s den within reach.

In perfect tandem you uttered your devotion back to him as you have done before-as you always do. “You.”

With one syllable, you would find yourself in rapture.

You welcomed it, succumbing completely to his unleashed passion that's only amplified as Nines pulled you back by your hair, exposing your unmarred neck to him. He continued to claim you, embellishing your skin with his bites that you would wear as a badge of honor.

With another yank on your hair, a sensation that teetered between pleasure and pain, he posed a question, “Whose are you?” He had heard the answer countless times, but your complete submission made him feel a sense of satisfaction that was above anything within his programming.

And again, you responded as he always accurately predicts you will.

Without hesitation he positioned himself between you again, one of your legs splayed out straight while he hoisted the other over his shoulder. Nines found his rightful place inside you once more and drove into you with a force that left you short of breath and with a beautiful array of colors blooming within the abyss of your blindfold.

”That’s right, you’re mine,” at this point, that was a statement of fact.

“You’re,” thrust, “my,” thrust, “teacup.”

That, however, was a belief that Nine’s had formed on his own-a deviation beyond predesignated code that forbade him from feelings such as connection. A flush of blue adorned his cheeks as he continued to lose himself within you, placing languid kisses to your inner calf.

“Y-yes,” was all you could say, broken and breathily, as the pressure in your core was reaching its breaking point, spreading through every inch of you.

You had completely surrendered yourself to the carnality of the wolf, sacrificing body and soul so both your desires could be satiated.

Sensing you were on the brink, Nines gave one more well calculated thrust that hit you perfectly, your orgasm surging through you like a rapid with your gluttony for pleasure fulfilled. You felt as if you were floating, a pleasant tingling sensation nipped at the tips of your fingers and toes as you gasped for air; you were once again reminded what continued to tempt the deer to the wolf.

As your shaking began to subside Nines released your leg, feeling heavier than iron as it fell to the bed with a gentle thud. You felt him lean over you, coming down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss; a soft gesture to commemorate yet another encounter and a promise of more to come.

He lingered for a second longer than usual before pulling back to look at you with those piercing eyes that consistently enamored you; behind them was a spell you weren’t sure you could ever break free from.

A realization came, and with that a weight that was too much of a burden to bear currently; it had taken root deep within your heart. The hold he had on you was developing into something you found yourself unable to say aloud, and perhaps you never could.

But as his eyes softened and he placed his palm to your cheek, you believed someday the deer could find the strength to tame the wolf.

-Mod Vic

#writing #mod vic #baby's first post #yandere #yandere dbh #yandere nines

182 notes · View notes

rhinozilla · 5 years

Text

Whumptober Day 8: Stab Wound

Summary: Chris and Connor pursue a fleeing suspect. The guy gets in a lucky hit before he's taken down.

Luckily, the perp had fallen for Chris’s trick. After fleeing the scene on foot, Chris had chased the wanted man deliberately, steering him toward running down an alley…directly where Connor had gone to head him off. The cry of surprise and the sound of a brief scuffle meant that the trick had worked.

Unluckily, just before that, Chris had caught up to the guy. The criminal, a mix of red ice and panic in his veins, had overpowered Chris and thrown him into a pile of broken bricks before running into the alley.

With a hiss, Chris climbed up out of the pile, taking his time once he heard Connor rattling off rights to the perp. The man was screaming obscenities, so Connor only increased his own volume. Chris got to his feet, dusting himself off and cradling his arm. Nothing broken, not even bleeding, but his hands and forearms were skinned pretty good from landing on the uneven pile of bricks. He angrily rubbed at the abrasions. That was going to bruise, and he could already tell his whole left side was going to be smarting for the rest of the day.

Rotating his shoulder, he grimaced and jogged around the corner, into the alley where Connor had the perp on the ground. The man was on his belly, both hands pinned behind his back, and Connor had his knee in the man’s spine to keep him there as he thrashed. At the other end of the alley, Tina’s squad car was sending flashing red and blue lights as she came to aid in the arrest.

“Nice job, boys!” Tina chirped, taking handcuffs off her belt and kneeling down to help Connor subdue the man. “Chris, you okay, man?”

Chris frowned and rubbed at his elbow some more. “Asshole knocked me down, that’s all. Just smarting pretty good.”

Connor let Tina take over cuffing the man, which was uncharacteristic, but the reasoning became apparent as he got back up on his feet.

“Yes, we can add assault of two police officers to his impressive list of offenses.” He held up his arm. “He managed to stab me.”

“What—OH MY GOD?!” Tina gawked, nearly losing her grip on the perp as she hauled him to his feet.

“Connor, holy—“ Chris hurried over to the android, his own aches and pains forgotten at the sight of blue blood gushing out of the damage on Connor’s forearm.

The handle of the silver butterfly knife was still jutting out of his arm, and as he got closer, Chris could see severed wiring curling up out of the break in the plastic casing of his arm. Connor looked more alarmed at Chris and Tina’s reactions than at the fact that there was a FREAKING KNIFE sticking out of his body.

Chris got to Connor’s side and put a hand at his back to steady him, though he seemed perfectly sound on his feet. Connor held his damaged arm with his other hand, keeping it still as he inspected it, looking almost detached about the whole thing. Some android-version of adrenaline or shock or whatever must have been keeping the pain at bay. Chris looked to Tina.

“I got this one.” He nodded toward Connor, then looked pointedly at the perp. “You got that one?”

“Yep.” Tina jerked the man around, marching him toward the street. “Do we need android services?”

“No,” Connor said casually. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I can tend to it with the supplies in the first aid kit.”

“Right,” Chris said, dubious but playing along.

Tina took the perp in Chris’s car, which was a little farther away, so that Chris could walk Connor over to her closer car for faster treatment. Chris popped open the passenger side door and stepped aside.

“Here, sit down. I’ll get the kit.”

“I appreciate your help, Chris, but I can take care of this myself,” Connor said, carefully sitting down and trying not to jostle his arm. “It doesn’t even hurt—“ He sat down, unexpectedly brushing his arm against the side of the seat. His entire frame went rigid. “No, wait…there it is…Ahhh…”

He hissed and bowed forward, cradling his arm in his lap. Chris cursed and picked up the pace, yanking the first aid kit out of the squad car and hurrying back to the passenger side.

“Okay, let me see,” he stated, holding out his hands.

“N-no, I told you, I can do it—“

“And I’m telling you, you don’t have to. Now gimme that arm,” Chris said more sternly.

Connor’s eyes were pinched shut, suddenly reluctant to look at the damage now that he was feeling all of it, but he slowly uncurled from around his arm. Chris gave him a three count to catch his breath before he reached out again. He very gently grasped Connor’s arm under the elbow, straightening out the limb.

“Shit, man,” he murmured, eying the damage.

“I’ve…shut off thirium flow…to the limb to stop…the bleeding,” Connor wheezed. “The knife can be…removed without…further damage.”

“Yeah, but it’ll hurt like a bitch,” Chris remarked, prodding the torn edges of Connor’s sleeve aside for a better look.

In one quick motion, Connor straightened up, grasped the handle of the knife with his other hand, and cleanly pulled it free. Chris leaned back as Connor dropped the knife to the pavement between them. Connor exhaled hard once, then inhaled, and then groaned, flattening his palm over the damage and leaning sideways in the seat.

“What the entire Hell was that?!” Chris snapped, grabbing Connor’s shoulders to keep him from falling out of the car as he doubled over in pain.

“I thought…removing it quickly would make it hurt less…similar to the human expression of ‘ripping off a bandaid’,” Connor hissed through clenched teeth.

“And?” Chris made sure he was steady, then started yanking pressure bandages out of the android first aid kit. “Keep talking to me. How’d your theory pan out?”

Eyes still screwed shut, Connor shook his head and exhaled in a rush, “It’s bullshit.”

Chris let adrenaline pull a laugh out of him as he cut open the rest of Connor’s sleeve, pushing the fabric out of the way. He coaxed Connor into lifting his hand enough to slide a thick square of gauze over the damage. Then Connor was putting pressure on it again.

“You crazy bastard,” Chris snorted, then frowned lightly. “All right, now just try to relax and let me handle the rest of this, okay?”

Connor nodded, eyes closed as he leaned back in the seat.

“You gonna pass out?”

“No.”

“You gonna throw up?”

“No.”

“You gonna warn me if either of those answers change?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Chris gingerly removed Connor’s hand from over the wound, finding that it wasn’t actively bleeding. “That’s all I ask.”

Connor was quiet for a few minutes as Chris cleaned the damaged area as best he could, only flinching occasionally. Chris apologized under his breath every time, and Connor got better at holding still. Chris gently applied a fresh bandage and wrapped it in gauze. It wasn’t pretty, but it would keep the damage clean and covered until Connor could get it fixed properly.

“How’s your own arm, Chris? You said you were knocked down—“

“Man, shut up,” Chris chuckled, slowly moving Connor’s arm so that it was resting across the android’s lap.

Connor gratefully sat back in the seat, holding his arm still as Chris packed up the kit and bagged the butterfly knife. He closed the door for Connor and circled around to the other side of the car.

“I might…be passing out,” Connor informed weakly.

Chris climbed into the driver’s seat, fastening Connor’s seatbelt for him. “Take slow, deep breaths. It’s okay if you faint. It happens sometimes when you GET STABBED.”

“Never…passed out b’fore…Curious.” Then Connor went completely slack in the seat, his head lolling to the side and his mouth hanging open on the last word.

Chris sat back, staring at Cyberlife’s most advanced android, currently slumped like a ragdoll. He was breathing, and his LED had found its way back to blue. He’d just…passed out. Chris shook his head and started up the car. He picked up the radio to report in to the station, pausing first to check that the bandages were holding. He didn’t see any new blue stains, so he nodded and gave Connor a light pat on the other shoulder.

“Thanks for the warning, bud.”

#whumptober2019 #no.8 #dbh connor #dbh chris miller

7 notes · View notes

victoodles · 5 years

Text

Carnal (RK900/Nines x F! Reader)

~Hey! I finally finished my dumb Nines story, which evidently you can also find on AO3. Hope you enjoy~

~Warnings: Smut!~

Darkness

Sight was taken from you-it would only be granted it back when he decided. A strip of black velvet blindfolded you, and you could only assume that it was the same material that secured your arms and legs to the bed posts. You were splayed out, exposed and vulnerable; the wolf had ensnared you but you would graciously whisper a thousand times over, thank you. This was all his doing. Everything was determined by him and if he desired you this way, then there you would stay until the end of your days if that's what he wished. And God, you knew deep within every fiber of your being that you would stay there if it meant satisfying him for even a fraction of a second. He could have everything that constructed you, down to your dignity, and he would effortlessly take it with satisfaction dripping from his lips as he smiled.

How did you wind up in such a precarious situation? Memories reenacted themselves within the darkness before you, starting with the first time you ever laid your eyes upon him in the police department; that’s when everything was set in motion. He stood stoically, a god amongst men, intently analyzing the humans before him who he must’ve held with little regard. His LED alternated between blue and yellow as he slowly scanned each individual in the room, storing their information away for whatever reason he saw fit. Those eyes, frozen over with apathy, finally found their way to you-his new human partner. You couldn’t possibly place why, CyberLife wouldn’t have assigned their prodigal son to just anybody. Perhaps his creators believed you could give him the highest rate of success in future cases? Highly doubtful, but in hindsight, you were content being left in ignorant bliss.

That should’ve been a warning, an indication of what the wolf had in store for the deer. But you were too distracted to remove your rose tinted glasses, smiling wide as you extended your hand out to your new partner. He regarded your act of camaraderie briefly, tilting his head slightly as his LED went amber for a moment. His gaze then moved to you and he locked hands with yours; whether it was to humor you or it was genuine is still lost on you. Your smile widened at his reciprocation as you introduced yourself . You told him how excited you were to be working together, earning a few eye rolls from around the office. He just continued to stare at you, his face not giving away any hint of emotion. An unexplainable chill wracked you, and just as a nervous laugh began to form in your throat his grip on you tightened, bordering on painful. You winced as he pulled you closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered,

“I’m very much looking forward to our partnership.”

A cold touch on your chest sent a shiver through your body, bringing you out of your thoughts. His fingers slowly moved from your collarbone up to your lips, caressing them with his thumb. The touch was so soft you could barely tell it was there, especially with your sense of sight restricted. Your body was aching for more, and you parted your lips to delicately touch your tongue to the pad of his thumb. Amused, he pushed it into your mouth, allowing you to suck on the digit lightly. After a moment, he let the artificial skin covering his hand retreat and you familiarized yourself with the taste that was uniquely him.

He wants more contact, you mused as you used the tip of your tongue to trace a line up his newly exposed thumb. He gave no audible indication of pleasure, he knew it was too soon to reward you with the response you so desperately craved. Feeling bold, you bit down on the smooth plastic just enough for it to resonate in his pain receptors. For a second he froze, and you gently dragged your teeth along his thumb before he withdrew his hand completely from your face. How foolish of you to think that the deer could outmatch the wolf.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to do as you please, teacup.”

Teacup. You recalled when he first called you that; the two of you had been working together for a couple of weeks and had been assigned to investigate a supposed red ice drug den. It was located in a condemned building on the outskirts of Detroit. The drive there had been silent, but a tense atmosphere hung heavy in the air. Nines, as you had taken to calling him, was not one for idle chit-chat and only spoke to anyone when it proved to be beneficial. While you assumed that was just a protocol woven into his programming, he displayed a level of haughtiness that seemed to be outside of those zeroes and ones.

He made you nervous, simply put; he seemed to take on some sort of fascination with you almost immediately. His gaze never strayed from you too often, he purposely got too close to you during your interactions, his touch lingering for just a second longer then necessary. When an inevitable flush crept up your neck, tinting your face a delicate pink, you could’ve sworn you saw a satisfied smirk adorn his face. You had fought against the worst depravity this city could possibly offer, yet this RK900 with a superiority complex had you perpetually on edge. Maybe that’s part of his programming too, you thought as you let out a humorless chuckle. Nines glanced at you with those eyes you believed could freeze Hell over, and you blushed under his gaze. His LED blipped red, and just as quickly as it appeared, returned to blue- again. He informed you that the two of you had reached your destination and you acknowledged him with a stuttered thank you as he exited the car. Taking a few deep breaths you quickly followed suit and caught up with Nines, trotting alongside him.

The dilapidated house was all but abandoned, whoever was squatting there must’ve caught wind that you two were coming and left in a hurry. But when you’re in an unexpected rush you’re bound to leave something behind. While Nines was analyzing the scene and scanning for possible traces of thirium, you went off on your own to search for a lead. The foundation was rotting, long forgotten by the city to be demolished and thus remained standing much to nature’s chagrin. You proceeded with caution, making your way forward in hopes of finding promising evidence. It had slipped your mind to ask Nines to check the structural integrity of the building before splitting up; any chance you got to escape from him you eagerly welcomed. A loose ceiling beam had collapsed, bringing it and surrounding debris crashing down dangerously close to you. You let out a surprised yelp, instinctively jumping back and immediately meeting with Nines’ chest.

“You should watch where you step,” he chided, his hands grasping your shoulders, “humans are so fragile, teacup.” The extra emphasis on this new pet-name had your heart thundering in your chest. His lips turned upward in a smirk as he no doubt noticed your dramatic change in heartbeat. You looked back at him, perplexed by his hold on you and his newfound lack of formalities. The look in his eyes, one that regarded you in a way you had never seen before, had your breath hitching suddenly. It could almost be associated with hunger, desire, need-emotions you never fathomed he could be capable of.

“Yes, teacup,” he began. “While they are so very delicate and often small, I find them quite...endearing.” He brought his other hand up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “so pretty to look at, yet so easy to break,” he explained softly against the side of your neck, causing a heat to form in the pit of your stomach as a finger rested right over your pulse. A simple touch was enough to exude the power he held over you, and your second mistake came when you didn’t break from his hold. Instead you embraced it; the deer went to the wolf on her own volition.

A sharp bite brought you back this time, meticulously placed at the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. You squirmed underneath Nines as he pulled his mouth away, tracing the bruise that was no doubt forming on your skin with the tip of his tongue. You struggled desperately against your confines that held your limbs in place. A pointless endeavor, but Nines knew the extent of your tenacity and took pleasure in watching your attempts all the same. A hand found its way to your neck, slender fingers wrapping around it and applying enough pressure to cause your breaths to staccato. His teeth nibbled your ear lobe before whispering, “I want all of your attention. Focus.”

Despite the softness of his voice, it didn’t take away from the severity of his command. His hand was a vice around your throat that made your head light and your body tingle in the most pleasurable way. A phrase that has slipped from your lips time and time again found its way out once more, “Yes sir,” you said between pants, arching your back as he traced a nipple idly. He hummed in satisfaction before giving the bud a sharp pinch, pulling a gasp from you at the heightened sensation.

You were desperate for more, for anything. Every touch, breath, kiss had your body singing and you prayed his generosity would continue. But the only one who would answer those prayers was Nines himself; he wanted you on your knees, yes, but not for praying. He would have you fall to the floor begging before he even considered giving you what you wanted, what you absolutely craved. This song and dance wasn’t new to you; your pride was lost long ago after countless times of falling prey to the hypnotic score he masterfully composed.

“I don’t believe you are, teacup.” you felt him get off the bed and you held back your moan of protest-it would just fuel his motivation to continuously deny you. You tried to listen for any indication of what he was doing but with little success. Nines was unpredictable, and the constant uncertainty of what he had in store for you made your blood burn. But everything he did was meticulously calculated, that much you knew, and he no doubt took advantage of his pre-constructing software that was intended for investigations. He resumed his place over you, and a sigh of content started to escape from your lips.

It quickly turned into a hitched breath as you felt the edge of a blade against the side of your neck, it’s cold bite making you still completely. This-this was something new. The unfamiliar sensation was met with a newfound realization of how truly in control Nines was. No one would ever be able to hold this much authority over you and he was more than aware of it. The way he could map out every single vein, dragging the knife’s point over them with precision, it was a warped sense of intimacy that had you reeling knowing only he could ever truly know you. You were past the point of no return.

He continued his movements, trailing down your neck to your collarbone and even further downward. His touch was purposely featherlight, the knife barely making a scratch on your skin but that did little to placate your rapidly increasing heart rate. The cool steel found its way to the delicate skin of your hips-by then you were already shuddering and shallow breaths escaped you incessantly. The sheer intensity of not having any indication of your surroundings was going to throw you over the precipice of insanity soon, and he knew all that and more with just one simple scan of your body. He let out an amused huff as he traced circles lazily over your thighs, painfully close to your throbbing core.

“You seem troubled, what could possibly be the matter,” he asked nonchalantly, placing his free hand over your waist and you nearly moaned at the contact. Your thoughts were hazy, clouded over with a building lust, and you pathetically tried to sputter out a response but to no avail. His patience was waning-albeit it slowly-and he graciously decided to reward you. A slender finger found its way in between your legs and this time you couldn’t hold back a whimper for what could only be described as touch starved ecstasy. His deft fingers traced up and down your folds, his thumb resting on your clit with just enough pressure to make you wriggle beneath his touch. “Perhaps this will placate your tension, teacup,” he murmured against your hip, his tongue tracing it as two fingertips lingered tantalizing close to your entrance. And your final push over the edge was when he wasted no time to delve into you up to the knuckle.

A cry of pure pleasure left your lips and you arched your back as high as your restraints would allow. Your limbs strained against their confines desperately as he continued his ministrations, setting a perfect rhythm that had you moaning his name over and over again like gospel. His thumb tracing tight, quick circles around your clit had you feeling as if Hellfire itself was raging in your center and the lust you felt was only intensified by their flames. “Look at you,” he muttered, adding a third finger without missing a beat. His other hand had abandoned the knife and gripped your hip with a bruising force as he continued to thrust into you, slowing his pace drastically. You abandoned whatever little remained of your pride in that moment and begged for him to speed up once more, hoping your promises of “being a good girl” would entice him.

“Look at you,” he repeated, his once quick pace switching to a deep, slow, hard cadence. He played you like a violin, his fingers expertly knowing which notes to hit that would make you sing with a melodic trill. “One of Detroit’s finest detectives, reduced to a mewling mess.” The comment wasn’t meant to be an offense to you, rather, he was commending himself on what he alone could do to you. This version of yourself that he could create and revel in-it was entirely his to own, to touch, to fuck . His predecessor prided himself on always accomplishing his mission, and to Nines, you were no exception to the claim. He stilled within you, leaning in close enough that his lips brushed against yours. Barely a whisper, he demanded, “Tell me what you want.” And just like that the fog cleared; you could see the entrance to the wolf’s den within reach.

In perfect tandem you uttered your devotion back to him as you have done before-as you always do. “You.”

With one syllable, you would find yourself in rapture.

As soon as the response left you, Nines made quick work of your bindings, cutting you free and flipping you onto your stomach. Taking you by the hips, he sank himself into you and once again you felt whole, complete. With each thrust he pushed you deeper, deeper, and deeper into pleasure’s embrace. You welcomed it, succumbing completely to his unleashed passion that's only amplified as Nines pulled you back by your hair, exposing your unmarred neck to him. He continued to claim you, embellishing your skin with his bites that you would wear as a badge of honor. With another yank on your hair, a sensation that teetered between pleasure and pain, he posed a question, “Whose are you?” He had heard the answer countless times, but your complete submission made him feel a sense of satisfaction that was above anything within his programming. And again, you responded as he always accurately predicts you will.

“Yours...sir,” you emphasized his title, yearning for him to come and release everything he had upon you. Your cravings were returned in kind as he briefly removed himself from you, only to place you on your back. Without hesitation he positioned himself between you again, one of your legs splayed out straight while he hoisted the other over his shoulder. Nines found his rightful place inside you once more and drove into you with a force that left you short of breath and with a beautiful array of colors blooming within the abyss of your blindfold.

Just as soon as they appeared, they were replaced with faint lamplight and the dim, red glow from Nine’s LED. Your eyes quickly adapted to their newfound ambience and Nines tossed your blindfold aside, afterwords putting one hand on your calf and the other on your thigh to continue his merciless tempo.”That’s right, you’re mine,” at this point, that was a statement of fact. “You’re,” thrust, “my,” thrust, “teacup.” That, however, was a belief that Nine’s had formed on his own-a deviation beyond predesignated code that forbade him from feelings such as connection. A flush of blue adorned his cheeks as he continued to lose himself within you, placing languid kisses to your inner calf.

“Y-yes,” was all you could say, broken and breathily, as the pressure in your core was reaching its breaking point, spreading through every inch of you. You had completely surrendered yourself to the carnality of the wolf, sacrificing body and soul so both your desires could be satiated. Sensing you were on the brink, Nines gave one more well calculated thrust that hit you perfectly, your orgasm surging through you like a rapid with your gluttony for pleasure fulfilled. You felt as if you were floating, a pleasant tingling sensation nipped at the tips of your fingers and toes as you gasped for air; you were once again reminded what continued to tempt the deer to the wolf. As your shaking began to subside Nines released your leg, feeling heavier than iron as it fell to the bed with a gentle thud. You felt him lean over you, coming down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss; a soft gesture to commemorate yet another encounter and a promise of more to come.

He lingered for a second longer than usual before pulling back to regard you with those piercing eyes that consistently enamored you; behind them was a spell you weren’t sure you could ever break free from. A realization came, and with that a weight that was too much of a burden to bear currently; it had taken root deep within your heart. The hold he had on you was developing into something you found yourself unable to say aloud, and perhaps you never could. But as his eyes softened and he placed his palm to your cheek, you believed someday the deer could find the strength to tame the wolf.

#my writing #vic's fics!#detroit become human #detroit: bh #dbh #dbh rk900 #dbh rk900 x reader #dbh rk900 x female reader #nsft #dbh nines #dbh nines x reader

67 notes · View notes

birooksun · 5 years

Text

Winter Wonders

Part of the Secret Santa gift exchange for 2018! A HankCon fic for the lovely @thatlilbeansprout. Not sure what happened to your original secret santa, but here is a belated fic for you!

@dbhevents

Read on AO3

Hank leaned against the doorframe, watching Connor and Sumo playing in the snow. The Saint Bernard was leaping around trying to catch the snowballs with his mouth. Hank waited until Connor had moved so his back was to Hank before he struck.

He gave a sharp whistle and Sumo reacted. Instead of going to the snowball Connor just threw- he ran straight to Hank, knocking down Connor in the process. “That’s cheating!” He called from somewhere within the snow. Hank ignored the response and just gave Sumo scratches and pets as a reward. A shadow fell over them and Hank looked up, grinning at a snow covered Connor. “You cheated.” Connor gave a small pout that Hank couldn’t help but laugh at.

“It’s not cheating. I just used my surroundings.” Hank stood up and brushed the snow from his jeans before going inside the house. He turned and put a hand up to block Connor. “First, brush off all that snow. I’m not falling on my ass and breaking something because you left puddles everywhere.”

Connor tilted his head slightly before looking down at his own clothes, quickly patting the snow off and then following Hank inside. He watched as Hank removed his coat then quickly put a robe over his clothes. “Are you still cold Hank?”

He scoffed in response, rubbing his arms for warmth before going into the kitchen to feed Sumo. “That’s the thing with getting old. It gets harder to stay warm.” Connor didn’t respond, probably thinking of the nights they had just stood outside talking. “Being in the snow for a long time just saps the warmth from me. It’s fine. Should have worn my gloves and snow jacket instead of this old thing.”

Connor nodded in response, not sure what to say in response. He did turn up his internal heat, realizing the snow had probably made him cold to the touch. Connor walked up to Hank as the man rummaged through the fridge. “I could help you warm up Hank?”

He was sure he had said something wrong with how quickly Hank straightened his back and just looked at Connor. He opened and closed his mouth several times before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ Connor, that’s not something you say. It sounds like you’re coming on to me!” Connor opened his mouth to ask why that would be an issue before Hank continue on with, “An old man like me? I know it’s not what you meant but to others it doesn’t sound right.” He pulled out a carton of Chinese food and grabbed a beer before walking back over to the living room.

Connor gave a sigh as he watched Hank walk away, wondering if Hank really didn’t have any feelings towards him. He looked down at his hands, they were now back to an acceptable human temperature range. Connor walked back to the living room and sat down on the couch next to Hank, he leaned slightly against Hank’s arm and shoulder. Not enough to jostle the carton of noodles Hank was eating from, but enough to make him turn and look at Connor for a moment before shrugging and turning back to the tv. They stayed like that for a while, eventually Hank finishing his dinner and putting his arm around Connor’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile at that as he tucked himself in between Hank’s arm and chest.

Hank kept watching the game, occasionally just looking down to Connor and running his fingers through the other man’s hair. He had a feeling Connor wanted more, but he just wasn’t sure how to even approach the topic. It had been a long time since he entered a relationship, and his ex had done most of the pursuing. The one before that, well he and Hank had both fumbled through their relationship. He shifted slightly so Connor was either leaning more on him or had to it up. He wondered how Connor would react if he just summed up the courage and kissed him, either he’d go for it- or very quickly let Hank know it was unwanted.

He wanted to laugh as Connor decided to just drape on him more, one hand sliding around Hank’s back so he was almost hugging the man. “Connor.” He looked up at Hank, wide brown eyes showing confusion and a little bit of hope. Hank lifted one hand up to gently cup Connor’s chin, his thumb lightly tracing Connor’s bottom lip as he internally debated making a move.

“Hank?” Connor moved slightly, the position probably would have bothered the back of a human, and he could see Hank was frowning slightly so he uncurled his legs and brought himself back up to eye level with Hank. His human still kept a hand on his face, tracing his lip, his cheeks, and finally looking away from his lips to meet his eyes. “Hank?”

Connor felt his face heating up as he realized his voice held a slight bit of static to it. Hank smirked and moved his hand to the back of Connor’s head, slowly leaning forward. Connor couldn’t help but give a small shiver as he felt Hank’s breath over his lips. He had stopped, hesitating going in fully when Connor decided to take over. Connor leaned forward and closed the small gap between them for the kiss. He could feel the warmth of the kiss, feel Hank’s facial hair just lightly scratching his skin.

After a moment Hank pulled away, breathing heavily and his face flushed. “I guess you do like me.” It was said so simply, Connor couldn’t help but laugh. Hank joined in and pulled Connor in for another kiss. This one with no hesitation. After a little bit they pulled apart and settled back onto the couch, Connor half lying on Hank while he watched the game.

When there was a commercial break though, Hank would turn his attention back to Connor, gently pulling the android up for more kisses. Connor knew if he were human he would feel breathless by all this, as it was only his mussed up hair gave any outward sign. The game must have ended- Connor had stopped paying attention a while back, because Hank quickly flipped their positions and pinned Connor on the couch. He couldn’t help but let out a static filled moan as Hank gently bit his lip.

“Tell me when to stop Connor. I don’t want to go too far.” He nodded and Hank leaned in for another kiss, this one quick before lightly running his mouth over to Connors neck and nipping at it.

Hank smirked as he kissed and nipped at Connor’s neck and received static filled moans in response. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He murmured in response to Connor’s hands weakly grasping at his hair and shoulders. “If it gets too much I’ll stop.” He ran a large hand over Connor’s chest, lightly tracing the buttons and watching Connor’s flushed face. Connor nodded in response and threw an arm across his face as Hank un-did the top button. He paused, looking up at Connor, the parts of his face still visible were tilted a soft blue.

He quickly moved back up and lifted Connors arm, the android letting him pin it above his head. Hank softly kissed Connor’s lips one more time before sitting up, making sure his knees were far enough apart he wasn’t still pinning Connor to the couch. “We’re stopping there for now.”

Connor slowly sat back up, blinking sluggishly as he overloaded mind caught up. “We can continue Hank.”

Hank shook his head in response, “You’re reacting slower than normal Connor. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He stood up off the couch and stretched his back, groaning at the loud pops it gave. “It’s getting late though. I should go to bed.” He scratched the back of his neck, realizing he really wasn’t sure what to do or say next. Usually the other person would leave, but Connor lived here. “Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

Connor dipped his head and looked at his hands, his LED slowly turning between blue and yellow. “Could I join you? Not- not to continue on so quickly but-” his words seemed to fail him.

“Yeah we can cuddle before I go to sleep.” Connor looked back up at him with such a wide smile. “Come on then.”

#hank x connor #hankcon #dbh #detroit become human #my fanfiction #dbh secret santa 2018 #dbh connor #dbh hank

45 notes · View notes

vaingloriosa · 6 years

Text

God Shot

Connor x Reader

Words: 1,807

Summary: The moment he stepped into your humble coffee shop, you knew you were done for. The moment his eyes met yours, Connor was done for.

Prompt: “So… you come here often?” “I work here.”

Author’s note: most of this was written after i got a root canal done so if it sounds wonky, blame my root canal self. she....she’s still valid ://

God Shot: a shot of espresso that is so good, and inexplicable, that it is believe to be blessed by God

masterlist

When Hank gave up drinking a few days ago, he traded in alcohol for coffee.

Connor would scold the Lieutenant about the effects of coffee by listing off the harmful effects of caffeine consumption. Though, after the third attempt to get Hank to reconsider his decision by reminding him the addiction to caffeine is real, Connor gives up as Hank pours himself another cup while making direct eye contact with him.

It’s on the sixth day when Hank brings Connor along for his “new” morning routine.

Hank never noticed the small coffee shop down the street that apparently opened two months ago until turning over a new leaf. Connor had noticed the construction of the small shop but didn’t pay much attention due to the nature of his chaotic lifestyle. The bell on top of the door signals their arrival and Connor takes in the homey autumn decorations all around the shop. Several patrons sit quietly along the window in hushed tones, light pop music surrounds the room, and the sounds of fingers typing over keyboardless keyboards and coffee grinders blend together in odd harmony. The air is thick with the smell of ground up coffee beans with a hint of spices, pumpkin, Connor supposes. A sweet voice that exclaims Hank’s name lifts him out of his observation.

Connor turns his attention to the barista before him and feels his thirium pump skip a beat. Unusual.

“Good morning! Looks like you brought a friend this time.” You nod your head over to address the man besides your usual customer. You notice him swallow thickly and bashfully nod his head, extending his arm out for you to take.

“I’m Connor.”

Connor.

Your name leaves your lips as you shake his hand with a firm grip. The touch of his skin against yours makes you develop goose skin and you tell yourself you can’t be developing another crush. You bite your bottom lip and curse yourself for getting hot in the face.

“Connor’s my partner over at the precinct.” Hank gives you a side smile as he picks up on the way you look at him.

“Ah, it’s nice to finally meet you. Hank has mentioned you a few times, nothing but nice things of course, and it’s, uh, nice to put a face to a name,” you manage to say among the heart palpitations you’re currently experiencing. Connor looks over to the Lieutenant then back at you with an arched eyebrow.

Hank shrugs at his odd behavior. “What? Would you rather I talk shit about you behind your back?”

You snicker at their exchange as you whip up Hank’s regular order of black coffee with three sugars. From your peripheral, you can tell the two are exchanging some “heated” words and you can’t help but feel your ears burn. Sometimes you wish you didn’t have such a hopeless romantic heart.

You slide the coffee cup across the counter just as the argument dies down on their tongues. Hank gives you a few dollars and tells you to keep the change. You smile, waving a goodbye to Connor who lingers a bit after Hank heads towards the door. Connor feels the breath caught behind his throat as he notices that you’re actually waving at him. He waves back as a small smile graces his lips and you swear if other people weren’t around, you would have melted on the spot.

Connor can’t get you out of his mind.

When he notices that Hank isn’t going to the shop anymore, he passively asks what happened to the routine he had going for him. Hank waves him off, saying that work has gotten in the way and had settled on the filmy black liquid in the break room. Now Connor doesn’t have an excuse to see you.

Or does he?

Three days into a tough investigation involving a series of murders, Connor looks up to notice Hank nose deep in several files with fingers carding his grey hair. His eyes shift towards the empty coffee cup on half-haphazardly abandoned near the edge of his desk.

“Do you want a refill?” Connor asks in a non-conspicuous tone. Hank lets out a huff and waves his hand in the general area of the cup and leans back on his chair. Connor gets up and makes his way towards the break room. He makes sure that no one is watching him as he removes his synthetic skin to touch the coffee maker. In a matter of seconds, Connor causes the appliance to break from the inside.

The break room needed a new coffee maker that didn’t violate several health and safety codes anyways.

With his plan set in motion, Connor waltzes over to the Lieutenant’s desk with newfound purpose. “Unfortunately, the coffee machine is broken. Could I-”

Before he can finish his thought, Hank shoves his hands into his jacket pocket and slams a few dollars on the hard surface for Connor to take. He waves for him to scram, dismissing him to do what needs to be done in order for him not to crash and burn. A small smile creeps along the corners of Connor’s mouth as he finds another peep in his step.

His plan is finally in motion.

It’s an overwhelming sensation to try and figure out humanity at its core. What it means to feel, to show emotion, to say the right things and do what is appropriate for that scenario. Even a year after everything that has happened, Connor is still learning about the world around him from a different, LED-less perspective. He’s still bound to fuck up on some things.

Like when he nearly loses his composure once he sees your face. The always graceful android is mere thrium mush when he’s around you. Your smile brightens up the room with a halo like aura around you.

You’re absolutely stunning.

And you’re absolutely stunned when you find Connor alone without his friend.

Your mouth becomes slightly agape but you catch yourself by smiling. You weren’t expecting him after a few days absence. You thought that maybe they finally grew tired of the coffee shop you own and perhaps forgotten all about it. You even thought that you would never see Connor again and you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the heaviness in your chest.

“Hey, Connor! Long time no see, eh?” Eh? Really? You really went with such a stupid noise as “eh”? You want to slap yourself for making a fool out of yourself in front of your crush. Connor lets out an airy laugh and places his hands along the smooth white marble counter.

“I apologize. A tough investigation has our hands tied up,” Connor explains but the ending of his sentence isn’t lost on you; making you raise an eyebrow. Connor squints a little at your facial expression, unable to decipher such an odd response. You find the confused look on his face cute and you can’t help but snort out loud. You press a hand on your lips and shake your head.

“Um, never mind me! There’s no need to apologize, really. It’s just....good to see you again.” You quickly change the subject as you shift your gaze from his earthy brown eyes to the counter top. Gosh, you wish you would stop getting hot in the face every time you make eye contact with him.

“It’s nice to see you again, too,” Connor says your name and you feel as if you ascended to heaven once more. You peer over to him as a fond smile forms on his lips. You can’t help but reciprocate the action and you go back to feeling of weak knees and goosebumps that form along your arms.

“So,” you perk up immediately, “what can I get for ya?”

He reaches into his suit jacket pocket to fish for Hank’s money. “Hank’s usual, please.”

As you turn your back towards the coffee machine, Connor looks at both his sides to make sure no one is staring. Even with an encyclopedia for a mind, there’s a difference between knowing the connotation of a word and actually performing said behavior. He props his elbow on the counter top and rests his head on his closed fist. Connor relaxes his body so that he’s crossing his legs to be suave and without all the tension in his shoulders. When you return with the cup of coffee, your heart stops as your eyes lay upon Connor’s.

Upon your return, his mind gets wrapped up by your presence and all logic gets thrown out the window.

“So… you come here often?”

You place the coffee cup down on the counter. You can’t help but grin at Connor’s attempt at flirting. “I work here.”

Connor shuts his eyes and licks his bottom lip. Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat and you brace yourself by placing your hand on the cool marble.

“That’s right, you...yeah.” Oh, he most definitely blew it. Connor tries to play this off coolly and swipes the coffee cup into his hands then tries to leave.

“Wait!” you say, gesturing with your hands for him to stop while you raise the wooden door of the side counter. Connor turns to you and tilts his head. He can feel his thirium pump quicken but he’s aware of the sensation already. His whole body seems to cinch as he watches you approach him. Connor has never been this close to you before and he’s afraid he might shutdown because of it.

“Hey, I, um, I thought what you did was cute. Most of the time flirting can be awful but, sometimes it’s not all that bad when it comes from the right person. A genuine one at that.”

You press your hands against your cheek and chuckle at the fact that you’re really doing this. “When will I see you again?”

It’s Connor’s turn to be a flustered idiot. You can see a visible blue tint along his cheeks and you bite down on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming out loud. Gosh, he’s just as nervous, isn’t he?

“Well, I can come by tomorrow if you’d like?”

You beam up at him and you place your hands behind your back. “I’d love that.”

You two bid farewell for now. As you two separate, both of you go into your own type of giddiness. You dance a little to the soft music on the speakers as you return to your post behind the counter. Connor can’t help but smile at what just unfolded in a matter of minutes. He looks down at the coffee then realizes something scrawled on the brown sleeve.

It’s your phone number.

You didn’t need a pickup line for your own plan to be set in motion.

It worked.

Tagging: @kwaiky, @chrisevansthedoritobastard, @black-widow-fangirl, @yonaih, @wiredhawkes, @heysliver, @justadweebwithashittydream, @deviantramblings, @deviantsupporter, @divadonadance1

if y’all ever wanna get tagged, send me an ask!! i only tag those who actively interact with my work even if y’all didn’t ask. if u don’t want to be, send me a message as well.

#angel writes #connor x reader #connor #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh x reader #dbh connor #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human imagine #God shot #....it's been so long that i forgotten how to tag omg

365 notes · View notes

the-ship-port · 5 years

Text

Detroit Become Human Ship Request

@nightrainn2

I’m really excited you requested this fandom! It really doesn’t get enough love. Thanks for requesting darling, and if any of these were unsatisfactory, if you’d like more, or if you simply want to chat, just drop me a message or an ask! :)

Your Best Friend

Kara! (The following goes into events portrayed in the excellent short film Kara, available in the “Extras” section off the main menu of the game). You were a cognitive engineer at CyberLife--tasked with manufacturing the complex “emotion algorithm” to be applied to each android depending upon the task the android was designed to perform. You even designed Kara’s--making her the caring and resourceful woman she is(at least, would become). You had created many algorithms over your days at CyberLife, but Kara--she was...special. You poured something into her more soulful than you had in past projects. You were going through a hard lapse in your life, and for whatever reason it felt like you were...confiding in this...thing. When she was assembled, the results showed--she thought herself alive. She was almost deprogrammed because of it, but the employee overseeing her construction took pity on her, seeing something akin to true fear within her. The security footage for this event fell to your desk, of course, and when you started watching it, you couldn’t stop. There was something...in her. Familiar. Comforting. Real, and...the word...it whispers over your countenance like a revelation sent by God… Alive. You tried to go back about your business after that, but it proved impossible. Your thoughts always traveled back to the AX400 who said she was alive. Things changed for good when you heard the same AX400 had been returned for repairs to its store. You knew if you were ever going to get past this, you’d better face the android yourself… At the store, you examine the damaged android. You inquire what had happened to her--she was in awful shape. You were informed the owner had claimed she was hit by a car. You frown, looking at the damage. Her arms are removed clean from her sockets. This kind of thing...doesn’t happen with a car wreck. You sigh, realizing you’ll receive no closure here...you’re not really sure what you expected. You tell the employee to keep you posted on the android’s condition, then return to work. When you hear the same android has reported harmed her owner and fled the scene, you realize this is truly getting out of hand--and with a revolution on CyberLife’s hands, too! You decide to investigate the matter personally, on your own time, even though CyberLife had provided an android for the case--you’d rather...no. You need to see her. You manage to track the android to the Ravendale district. From there, you spot her racing down the street with what looks like a child, and give chase. She trips, and you overtake her, grabbing her shoulder-- Your eyes meet. Her gray eyes--like a storm brewing--lock into yours...familiarly. “I know you,” she breaths. You release her shoulder without knowing why, and nod without a single thought. She stares at you, then places a hand on your own shoulder. “You’re [Y/N].” You watch her, and nod. She smiles softly. “Everything is going to be okay,” she says, squeezing your shoulder once, before standing and rounding the corner with the child. You stay there on the sidewalk for some time. The two of you...there’s something connecting you. A pull like gravity. Like some part of your soul is now forever coursing through her thirium...like she is something to you stronger than blood...like she is your...sister.

Your Bestie Aesthetic:

Your Bestie Playlist: Welcome to the Machine(Pink Floyd) Eclipse(Pink Floyd) Learning to Fly(Pink Floyd) Comfortably Numb(Pink Floyd)

A/N: I legitimately have no idea what happened you and Kara are just a Pink Floyd kind of BROTP X,D

Your Love Interest:

Markus!

After that day with Kara, you realized you had to find some answers. You signed onto the Deviancy case--not a difficult task given you were part of the team programming their personality emulations anyway--and over time your private investigations led you to Jericho. Inside, you were immediately cornered and accused, given you’re a human, and, conveniently enough, delivered to their leader for him to decide your fate. Markus watches you, trying to conceal his conflict. This is the first time the sanctuary of Jericho has been breached. Finally, he asks for you to be delivered, bound, to his quarters for an interrogation--in private. His followers aren’t all about this resolution, but they don’t speak up, and turn you right over.

In his quarters, you and Markus watch each other carefully. Calculatingly. Markus is an INFJ, so on face-value seems to be very similar to you, but his cognitive functions are near-perfect shadows of your own(the ENFJ is your perfect shadow and therefore, many say, your “perfect match”). Briefly explained, your function stack is Fi-Ne-Si-Te, and his is Ni-Fe-Ti-Se, where his Fe shadows your Fi, his Ni your Ne, etc. The shadow functions suppress each other due to their conflicting cognition, but, ironic, are complementary; this is why “Shadow Matches”, as I call them, are often considered ideal. In this case, your Fi is focused inward on how you feel and what you feel is right, making your values very important to you, while Markus’ Fe is outward focused on the welfare of others and how others view him, which makes him a good leader, but can be a hindrance when it comes to making decisions. Likewise your Ne considers hundreds of possibilities, which is thorough, but can hinder you from making decisions quickly and even make you anxious and stressed due to so many possibilities and not knowing which one will happen or which one you even want to happen; meanwhile, Markus’ Ni is vision-focused, well-attuned to what is most likely to happen and helping to prepare for that outcome. Therefore your Fi can concentrate his Fe and his Ni can concentrate your Ne. Whoops that wasn’t brief sorry I’m a nerd. Back to the story. Markus, like you(and myself), is an analyzer. He carefully surveys you, your face, your countenance, your eyes, trying to conclude how much of a threat you may mean for his people(Ni-Fe). Likewise you watch him, imagining all of the vivid ways he can murder you right now(Fi-Ne). Due to your mutual tendencies toward empathy, neither of you are receiving a threatening aura from the other, but you still need to be careful. He walks around you, standing in front of you with arms crossed, and asks very evenly how you managed to find them. Being an inherently honest person and also too scared to make any attempt at a lie, you tell him your story, starting with your position at CyberLife, gaining a raised brow from him until you go on to explain what happened with Kara, your--connection. You explain that it almost seemed like she was alive, and that you came here seeking answers. Markus contemplates whether to believe you, leaning against one wall. Lowly, he asks, “And when you have them?” You tell him evenly that depends on their nature. He watches you, then turns away. “You will stay here. As our prisoner. When you have your answers we will renew this discussion.”

You may find more answers than you were looking for over the next few weeks--certainly more than you were prepared for. Imprisoned on the abandoned freighter, you see hundreds of damaged androids seeking sanctuary in its steely walls. There’s something hanging about their shoulders that you swear you know...a feeling that everyone knows...a feeling that makes you slowly realize that these androids are just as alive and lost as you are. Markus approaches you often to inquire whether you’ve found the answers you wanted, and of course, the answer is always “No” or “I don’t know.” At one point when he approaches you, you break down in tears, saying you had no idea what his people were going through...what you were contributing to. On seeing how distressed you are, Markus rests a careful hand on your forearm. You look up at him. “What you’ve contributed to, Y/N, is our life.” He gestures with the other hand. “What you see--it isn’t perfect. But you put it here...you helped us come to life…” He nods. “You created Ra9.” “Ra9?” you ask, looking into his bicolored, beautiful eyes searchingly. Just then, a news coverage of what the androids did the day before appears on the screens around the freighter. He squeezes your arm carefully. “Later,” he promises, standing and walking away.

Then the battle for Jericho began...and it became clear you were going to lose. The only thing to do was reduce the casualties. Panicked, you tug at your binds as androids raced past you, trying to reach safety. You find yourself on your back, squirming hopelessly. Soon, humans with guns pour in. They recognize you from CyberLife and spare you, severing your binds and helping you to your feet. They ask you where the android leader is. You look around at the androids cowering desperately behind storage units for sparse safety. You look back at the man and say the leader isn’t here--he fled to a more secure location after yesterday’s occurrences. The man seems to buy it, and starts to usher you to safety. You wince when you hear gunfire and think desperately for something you can do--just then, something hits the back of the man’s head, then you see Markus disarming and knocking the others unconscious before whipping around to you. “Markus!” you exclaim. He watches you. “You covered for me,” he says, with a grateful nod. “I owe you one.” You shake your head, and open your mouth to protest, but he cuts in, “Please--they’re everywhere. We have no choice but to destroy Jericho--you need to get off this boat.” “What--What about you?” you can’t help asking, grabbing his forearm before he can run off again. He glances back at you, then places a hand on yours. “Don’t worry about me,” he says. “Find North and the others. I’ll catch up.” With this, he gently removes your hand from his arm and takes off before you can protest further. You decide to do what he says.

Following the escape from Jericho, Markus broods in the church, and approaches you along with the rest of his team. He thanks you for covering for him back on the boat. You brush it off--you’re not one to take compliments well. He says he means it, then carefully broaches the subject of Connor. You recall the name as that of the prototype detective android--the most advanced model to date. He explains that Connor has joined their side and will be infiltrating CyberLife--concluding that he may have more success with an esteemed employee such as yourself. You take the mission with barely a moment’s consideration--out of character for you in most cases, but you feel guilty as all get out for what’s happening to the androids, and you have to help in any way you can. And there’s something more...sprouting from the days you’ve spent in Jericho, watching Markus’ passion for his people, his grace and eloquence, his heart...You know he’s alive. He must be. Because he makes you feel alive. “Markus?” you ask just as he’s turning away. “Hm--?” You cut him off with a kiss. Impulsion is far from your leading characteristic...but what if you never see this man again?

(The other three people are North, Josh, and Simon.) Fortunately, you did. You and Connor freed thousands of androids and lead them to Markus’ side, where you promptly greet him with a kiss. You prevail in the revolution, and stand with Connor and the others at Markus’ side as he faces his freed people. He incorporates into his speech the fact that humans and androids are not to be enemies, but equals...and so much more. Then he proposes to you. Caution and calculation fly out the window as you see this wonderful, compassionate, brave man on one knee before you, and you say yes.

Although you and Markus are more private people by nature and it wasn’t your first choice, Markus is practically android royalty, so the wedding could hardly help but be a public affair. Fortunately, you two thought a way around this; you had your own, private wedding with Simon(best man), North, Josh, Kara(maid of honor), Connor, Hank, and Alice(flower girl). The ring bearer is the boy Josh was watching over when Markus first entered Jericho(whom you and Markus will later adopt as your own). As the best man, Simon states his gratitude that he has such a great leader with such a great spouse who will help androids and humans prosper together in harmony. Then, you had the public wedding in front of an enormous android assembly, and were paraded through the recently liberated streets of detroit in the back of a construction truck with flowers attached to the rims.

You take in the child left for dead that Josh was watching over, and he learns your empathy and quiet intelligence and Markus’ eloquence and leadership abilities.(I can’t find a picture of him anywhere but let’s say he looks somewhat like this.)

Your Couple Aesthetic:

Your Couple Playlist: Skyfall(Adele) Zombie(The Cranberries) Restless Heart(Peter Cetera) Show Me the Way(Peter Frampton)

#markus #dbh #kara #ship #request #ship request #detroit #become #human

3 notes · View notes

dalilaswork · 6 years

Text

Wait for you || RK800 Connor x Reader

Author: Dalila

Ship: RK800 x Reader

Word count: 2.448

Prompt: "If he's going to treat you like shit I'm going to kick his ass."

Trigger Warnings: Abusive relationship, swearing, mention of cheating. Also, I'm a sucker for angst. This is angsty.

A/N: Soo, I had a blast writing this one. Unfortunately, it's nearly midnight here and I really can't wait to post it so it's not proofread yet. Sorry for the mistakes.

Requested by: @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11

“Fuck off, Jared.” you hissed at the phone, pressing it against your ear with your shoulder. It was almost midnight, and if it wasn’t for this stupid case, you’d be home for several hours. Probably asleep. Instead, you were rummaging through papers on your desk. “Look, I have more important things to do than to listen to your whining. Bye.” You cut the call before he could say anything, then threw the phone on the desk and sunk in your chair, letting out a sigh.

Fucking Jared…

“Is there something wrong, Detective?”

You smiled slightly at the soothing voice of your android partner. It was like honey to your ears after the heated conversation with your boyfriend.

“I’m fine, just a stupid fight with my boyfriend…” you said, going back to the papers on your desk. Those documents had to be there… If not, you’d have to go home, search for them and get back to work in the morning. And you wanted to wrap it up today…

“According to your heart rate, irregular breathing pattern, and the rush of blood to the cheeks you are far from fine.” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Connor was a great companion and most of the time you could forget that you’re talking to an android. Until he’d go and say something like that.

“Then why are you asking?” you turned in your chair to face him.

Connor’s face lit up with a soft, comforting smile. “Questions like that are a part of my social protocol.” you tilted your head at his words, your brows furrowing slightly.

“Well, your social protocol sucks,” you smiled at him, but then you noticed: his LED going red for a second and his eyes blinking. Biting your lower lip, you turned your face away. “I’m sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” his voice didn’t change, he was still calm and collected. Perks of being an android: their voice could rarely betray their emotions. But there were other ways of telling when their programs had trouble comprehending.

“I know you miss him.” Hank’s death was what made the two of you partners. But still, it hung over your heads like a stormy sky. Whenever you behaved like his previous partner, his first friend, you could see him glitching. It was subtle, momentary loss of control over his body. But it was the equivalent of human’s voice cracking and eyes tearing up. It was the pain… And you hated being the cause behind it.

“Go home, Detective,” he regained control and began collecting the papers on your desk. Some of the information you were working with were too important to put online, that’s why you still had lots of the old-fashioned documents all around. Another little thing that reminded Connor of Hank. “I’ll take care of this.”

“No, no, I can do it.” I got up and tried to stop him, but he took my hands in his halfway through. His artificial skin was cool, compared to a human. But it was calming…

“Go home,” he repeated, his brown eyes piercing through you. And although his voice sounded more firm this time, his hold on your hands remained gentle. Your heart skipped a beat, but… why… “Your productivity level has dropped significantly. It would be highly recommended for you to take a break and rest before going back to work.” you swallowed, before taking a step back. It felt nice, having Connor hold your hands like that, but at the same time it made you nervous. You weren’t used to such tenderness, you realised.

“Are you sure?” you asked, already feeling guilty for leaving him with all the work. You should be more productive, you should have done more…

All Connor did was smile at you. “I’m sure, you should use some rest.”

“Thanks,” you just muttered, gathering all your stuff from the desk. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that after this fight, you wouldn’t get much rest at home. These days you could hardly rest…

later that night

Connor opened his eyes and looked around.

The playground by the river was quiet. The only sound that came to the android’s ears was the howling, winter wind. Connor watched the leaves dancing on the sidewalk as they flew towards the old bench. Towards the grey-haired man with a bottle in his hands.

“Took you some time, huh?” Hank asked as Connor sat beside him on the bench. He didn’t have to look at his partner to know that he was smirking. “I get it though.” the man took a gulp of the beer. “It must suck to have a dead man as a guide.”

“I’m glad it’s you…” Connor said quietly. Having Hank in his former Zen Garden was a big improvement. After deleting Amanda it was… too empty in there. Connor figured that disconnecting her code from CyberLife and adding modifications based on his memories with Lt. Anderson would make her more reliable… adding Hank as an interface was a pure formality.

But the realization that the man sitting beside him was nothing more than a line of code in his program… it hurt. Most of the time it hurt so much that this change seemed to be an obvious mistake…

And then came days like these. When he was desperate for even that simple line of code.

“I’m worried about (Y/N)…” Connor voiced his thoughts. Worries concerning his friend were clouding his mind, blocking him. “The more time I spend thinking if she’s alright, the less time we have to work on this investigation.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’re worried about.” Hank mocked him, shaking the bottle. There was little of the liquid left.

“What do you mean?”

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! You’ve always been blind to your emotions, but in this case it’s pretty fucking obvious.” Hank turned to him, placing his big hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You love that girl, admit it.”

“She has a boyfriend.” Connor muttered, taking the coin out of the pocket of his pants. Even while exploring the depths of his mind, he still felt the need to occupy himself.

“She’s got a leech, not a boyfriend.” Hank shook his head, taking his hand away. After a moment of silence from Connor, as he continued the tricks with the coin, Hank stood up and turned in the direction of the playground. Connor’s gaze remained fixed on the river. “You know, if I were you, I would kick his ass for treating her like shit.”

“It’s her personal life, I shouldn’t interfere.” the coin flew in between his fingers. He didn’t catch it.

“Bullshit.” Hank called him out. “She’s your friend. And you’re in love with her. God, why are you making this so complicated?” the android didn’t respond. “There’s nothing else I can do for you, Connor. Now it’s all up to you.”

Connor opened his eyes and looked around.

The cemetery was quiet. All he heard was the wind. And all he was left with was a tombstone.

a few days later

“Fuck you!” you yelled, storming off to the kitchen. On days like this you’ve got enough. Such fights made it hard to remember why you and Jared were together in the first place. All you ever do is fight.

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing? Running away? Sure, that’s what you’re best at.” his shouts followed you to the kitchen and soon enough he was too. “Now better tell me where the hell were you all night? Slutting around with your plastic toy?” the kitchen light emphasised his messy hair and the dark circles under his eyes. None of you dealt with your problem well.

“I’ve been working so you can continue to laze your ass around on the fucking couch!” you shouted in response, leaning your hands on the cabinet. You were tired, after once more working overtime. Your asshole boyfriend was the last thing you wanted to deal with that evening. “And before you shove my work in my face one more fucking time, maybe you’d like to explain to me what was Daria doing here yesterday, huh?” his ex-girlfriend had been one of the many reoccurring elements of your fights. And the fact that the neighbours were kind enough to inform you about her visit only added to your rage. “Are you hooking up with that bitch behind my back?” you shouted, venom and hurt marking your every word.

“I wouldn’t have to if you paid more attention to me than to your damn department!”

That was the last straw. You fought over many things, but never, ever did you have to deal with him actually cheating on you. And the way he said it, so carelessly, made your blood boil.

“You dick!” not even realising it, you grabbed a plate and threw it his way. “After all those years…” you turned around to grab something else but then he grabbed your hand. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” you tried to take your hand away, but his grip was firm. So you used your other hand to punch him in the stomach. He let go.

“You’re a liar and a bastard!” you should have walked away. You should have been smarter and leave. But you wanted more, to yell at him and bring him down. You were so blinded by your rage that you didn’t see the slap coming.

It was swift and you barely felt it at first. The realisation came first, itching came later. This would surely leave a mark.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he yelled, taking a step back.

You sent him a death glare before moving past him. After what'd happened you wouldn’t sleep there that night.

the next day

You didn’t even make it to your chair at the department.

“What happened to you?” Connor asked, rushing to your side. It may have been the first time you saw his face so overtaken with concern. His LED was switching between yellow and red as his hand gently cupped your face. You didn’t have your makeup bag with you to cover the mark on your face.

“It’s nothing.” You removed his hands from your face, without looking him in the eye. What'd happened the night before was the last thing you wanted to discuss with Connor. So instead of talking to him you took your seat behind the desk.

“This isn’t nothing, (Y/N)!” you turned your gaze from him, not being able to meet his eyes. “Did he do this to you?” the question lingered in the air, as you breathed deeply. You wished you could act as calm and collected as Connor.

What you didn’t know was that he couldn’t be further from being calm. Because you refused to look at him you didn’t see that his LED was now a solid red. Connor kneeled beside your chair so he wouldn’t look at you from above. His thoughts were racing, trying to put together what could have possibly happened the previous night. He should have known. He should have protected you…

“If that makes any difference, I punched him first...” you said, unsure why you were defending the douchebag. You should be screaming, insulting him. But you weren’t the type to talk shit about people with others. Even if they fucked up this bad.

“It doesn’t make any difference.” his voice soothed your nerves, as his hand reached out once more to cup your good cheek. He didn’t force you to look at him, but you did anyway. “You deserve better. And you shouldn’t allow him to treat you this way.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know, your social protocol is pretty generic.” After that your gaze dropped down once more and so did his hand. You knew he was right. And he didn’t even know the whole story... “That’s what everyone would say. But it’s not that easy...” you fiddled with your fingers, before looking up at him once more, with a tired smirk on your face. “What does your social protocol has to say about that?” you mocked, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Nothing.” Connor replied simply. Truth was there were other options that came from his original program. “I, however, have something to say,” and yet he decided to go with something he learned from the only person he’d known that understood how complicated human's emotions could be. “If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.”

Your eyes widened with surprise and confusion at his words. Connor never talked like that. But then you understood and chuckled slightly. “Oh…” you took his hand in yours and squeezed it gently. “He’d be proud of you.” you smiled, noticing his LED going from red to yellow.

“I mean it though,” he covered your hand with his and a single tear ran down your cheek at his words. His presence was always reassuring but today… It was so much more than that. You were used to being comforted by him, but never before had he been so open with you. So protective...

“You’re a great friend.” you murmured, your voice slightly cracking due to the tears gathering in your eyes. His hand went up your cheek to wipe that one tear away.

“It’s because I care about you…” all of a sudden he no longer sounded like himself. Even after becoming alive, he always had this machine-like speech. But not anymore; he sounded so sincere as he brought his face closer to yours. “You have no idea how much…”

You felt yourself being drawn to him. Even though the artificial skin was cool, his presence felt so warm… So welcoming…

But…

“I… I can’t.” you whispered, his face being mere inches from yours. You just couldn’t do it. Jared cheated on you, yes. But you had to prove to yourself that you were better than him. That you wouldn’t just fall into another man’s arms while still being in a relationship. “I’m with him, and…”

“It’s okay,” to your surprise, his face was lit up with a smile as he took his hand away from your cheek. “I understand.” he then took your hand in yours and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your palm. You saw he was getting up from his knees.

“Connor, I…” you got up as well. You wanted to apologise; explain yourself. That you weren’t ready yet. That you would need to break up with Jared first…

“You don’t have to say anything,” he looked you in the eyes and smiled more widely. You made sure that his LED returned to steady blue before you could also smile to him. “I really understand.”

Even now you can’t remember who was the first one to envelop the other in a friendly hug. Silence fell over the two of you and once more in your life you were glad that your desk was situated so far into the department that no one witnessed this scene.

And at that moment Connor made a silent promise to Hank. That he would get you out of this mess. That he would protect you, cherish you.

But he would wait… until you were ready.

#connor x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800 #rk800 x reader #dbh connor x reader #detroit become human #rk800 connor

193 notes · View notes

helpinghanikan · 6 years

Text

Added Feature

Fandom: Detroit become human

Pairing: Connor/Reader

Summary: You don’t remember everything that happened. It’s probably best that you don’t, Connor knows enough for you.

Warnings: Brief description of violence, Angst

Word count: 1120

Trauma is a funny thing. It has this way of fucking with your memory. You remember your coat; Connor holding it open for you, clutching it closed against the Michigan winter and taking it off, it goes onto the end of the couch. What you don’t remember is any noise; Connor is speaking but no words are coming out, the door opens but it doesn’t creak, the pan hits you but there is no clang.

From there it’s flashes that aren’t in order. A belt around your neck pulling and pulling. Tight fists on your face and this impossible weight on your chest. When Hank would take your statement, you could only describe his weight and hair; maybe two hundred pounds, a blonde that looked brown in the shadows. It all ends with an unholy BANG and now you’re in the hospital.

“Fucker got out a week ago from a three-year stint. Looks like you put him away for a hit and run, went looking for you the moment he was free.” Hank explains from the foot of your bed.

You’re nodding along but, to be frank, you were still out of it. Having just woken up an hour ago, your head was still fuzzy and the stitches lining your forehead felt tight. It was also hard to swallow, a dark purple bruise in a beautiful line going right around. The only other injuries, besides the bruises, were a broken rib or two. It was obvious you were missing a good majority of the assault.

“I’ll keep Fowler off your ass for a while.” You nod along, pretending to know what he was saying. He glances to the side of the room and then back to you. “I’ll, uh…you should rest up, kiddo.”

He taps the bed frame before leaving. Pulling the door shut behind him.

The ceiling lights stare at you until you’re asleep.

When you wake up everything hurts like after a long and hard exercise, or a drag through a rock garden. With how much your body was lighting up the room was almost completely dark. Only able to make out shapes and forms, and the bright green light, showing that your next dose of morphine was available, shining within arm’s reach.

Curses and swears come out from you when you’re reaching for the light. Body is telling you to lay back down, let the pain happen and hopefully die from the whole thing. Instead your fingers wiggle mid-air for several seconds. Connor reaches past your hand, pressing down on the green with his thumb.

You wouldn’t know this until later, but Connor was there throughout the entire endeavor. It was he who had stopped the assault, called the ambulance and ridden with you to the hospital. Sitting in the corner of the room, straight and rigid as though he was reset to machine, when Hank was debriefing you. He only stood when you showed signs of pain while reaching for the green light.

It’s a warm, nice feeling that crawls through your body. Falling back against the hospital bed with a long mmm sound.

In the dark of the hospital room Connor looked down at you. His face silhouetted by the LED spinning around and around a hard red. It silhouetted his cheek and side of his face. Shinning a light on the streaming liquid down from his eyes and over the cheeks.

Since the revolution you treated crimes against androids as serious as you would human crimes. Because of this you had seen shaking and broken androids from every crime in the book. Every few models could cry, though. The only two models you knew that could cry were the child brand or the Traci models. Child brand for the raw childhood experience and the Traci’s for those people were into that sort of thing. Other models you had seen would shake, sob and gasp like they were crying but actual tears never came.

It made no sense for the RK models to be able to cry. But Connor was, thick streams of clear fluid going down his face. If the lights were on you might have seen his cheeks and face become blue from the crying.

“Oh, sweetie,” it might have been the morphine, but the nicknames were coming easy.

“A malfunction,” He says pressing the balls of his fists just under his eyes.

Android tears are more than just water and salt. It’s a brand of lube made to be much more visible against the faux skin.

“It’s okay, Sweetie. It’s okay.” Your arm on his side reaches out to touch him. Taking his elbows and gently rubbing the fabric of his jacket.

“You were…he was strangling you. You were choking, you were going to die. I was scared.” He looks at your throat, covering his face entirely like a scared little kid. “I am scared.”

How the hell do you respond to that?

“Baby, come here.” Your body is screaming again, even with the morphine, to scoot to one side of the bed.

“Don’t,” Connor says dropping his hands to try and stop you from moving.

“Come here.” You order again, slapping the bed twice.

He sits as stiffly as he had in the corner of the room. Your reaches out towards him. Wiggling his fingers for him to turn to. He takes your hand, “I’m alive, see?” it comes out as another order instead of a way of comfort.

He’s gentle while taking your hand. Turning it over and placing two fingers over your pulse point. The red briefly rolls yellow and then back to red. Removing his fingers and taking your hand between both of his instead.

“Your heart rate and vitals are normal.” Your hand is squeezed.

“Not dead yet,” again, probably the morphine.

His face scrunches in a way you hadn’t seen before. Turning your hand and kissing the palm. Pressing his face into your hand and kissing it again.

“Come here,” This third one was made and came out as an order.

An order that he obeyed. Sitting up to skootch across the mattress, turning towards you and laying so you were face to face. He seems to refuse to stare into your eyes, looking at your hairline or your throat.

As a last straw you grab the jacket sleeve, rolling him overtop of you. It hurts your ribs having him lay overtop of your stomach. His head settling in the center of your chest, where he can monitor your heart beat. The LED was spinning yellow as it looked for any sign that there was something medically wrong with you.

It’d be some hours before it’d change back to blue, but at least it wasn’t red.

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh hank #reader insert #connor x reader #Sad Connor is Sad #Zero understanding of what LEDs do #angst #comfort #bad writting

64 notes · View notes

tracies-tales · 6 years

Text

Reprogrammed

The music of the club reverberated through the very soul. It pounded through the ears of the crowd of bodies packed together, most of the patrons either too drunk or high to pay any mind to the heat of so many people in such an enclosed space. And even though Arin was among that crowd, it wasn’t alcohol or drugs that was keeping his mind occupied; it was the android on stage.

It was unlike any model Arin had seen before. They’d programmed countless androids for use as vocalists, but this one stood out. The sparkling blue spandex suit and flowing cape certainly contributed to the captivation. Watching the android’s mass of curly hair bounce in time with its head bobs was equally bewitching.

Arin couldn’t place it, but there was something incredibly human about it. It actually used a range of facial expressions and other swaying body movements as it stood behind an old fashioned microphone. It truly looked alive in front of an audience. The one thing giving it away was the blue circle of LED light on its temple.

Arin had never wanted to own an android more.

Of course having a robot around had its perks. They followed instructions without question, and they did everything to the letter. They were programmed for countless medical procedures, recipes for cooking, and a slew of other useful mechanisms, but Arin had never quite gotten it. Even knowing they couldn’t feel pain or emotions, Arin could never get past how real they looked. He’d also met a handful that were deceitfully human-like in nature, but they were androids who had served the same people for years and learned body language. When an android was fresh out of the factory, they were always a bit stiff until they warmed up to the behavior of their owners.

Arin frowned to himself at the word. He didn’t think he wanted to own anyone, even if that’s what androids were built for. But this model--the DS6969, or Dan--was special. They only brought it out on rare occasions to keep the crowds coming in; it was one of a kind. Whoever had modified the android’s vocals had done a superb job. It was even able to harmonize with itself using multiple layers of vocals coming from one mouth. But, Arin supposed, that was one of the wonders of modern technology.

~~~

“You have to work with me,” the club’s owner, Brian, said. “It’s an exclusive.”

“I know h--it is,” Arin replied. He’d been saving up money in case he ever decided to go through with joining the modern era and invest in an android. “But fifteen thousand is a steep price.”

“There were a lot of modifications put into this machine,” Brian folded his hands on his desk. “I think fifteen is rather generous, considering the amount of revenue it brings in.”

“So can’t you use that revenue to buy a new one?”

“If it were that simple, why don’t you go to the nearest warehouse and buy a cheaper model?”

Arin crossed his arms, “Touche. But I want Dan.”

Brian grinned softly, “You’ve been telling me that for weeks.”

“And I’m only now getting you to budge,” Arin set his hands on Brian’s desk and leaned forward. “I’ll bargain all you like.”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’ll take care of it. So how about this. I’ll let you buy it for ten thousand, on two conditions.”

“Hit me,” Arin said, trying not to sound too excited.

Brian fixed him with his gaze, “You send it back once a week for shows. I can’t just let you steal him from the public. As such, secondly, if I catch wind of you using it elsewhere for other concerts for your personal gain, you lose your right to it.”

Arin pretended to mull this over before saying, “Deal.”

Brian grinned, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

~~~

Arin opened the door to his house, which was a simple but comfortable single-story home. “Here we are,” he said, turning to watch Dan’s expression. It was interesting to see him off stage. He was still wearing the blue uniform; Arin didn’t mind, but it had attracted a lot of unwanted attention on the bus ride.

Dan was behaving as most standard androids, undoubtedly scanning the house as he swept his eyes around the area. Dan smiled, “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Arin said, kicking off his shoes and heading to the kitchen. “Guess I’m on a bit of a budget after that investment, huh?”

Dan tilted his head, “Your purchase of me, you mean?”

“Yup,” Arin responded. “You didn’t come cheap.”

“People with true talent rarely do,” Dan replied with a small grin.

Arin slowly turned back to him, “Did you just make a sex joke?”

“Is that okay?” Dan asked.

“Well, yeah, I’m just surprised. Androids don’t usually pick up on innuendos and shit.”

Dan giggled, even the laughter musical, “I’m not your average android.”

“You certainly aren’t,” Arin agreed and went back to throwing together a simple sandwich.

As Arin smeared mayo on a slice of bread, he heard Dan ask, “What would you like me to sing?”

Arin blinked and looked over his shoulder, “What?”

“What would you like me to sing?” Dan repeated.

“Oh. Do you want to sing?” Arin asked.

“It’s what I was made for. I had assumed you bought me because you enjoyed listening to me.”

Arin’s brow furrowed as he went back to assembling his dinner, “I mean, I do, but...that’s not all you’re good for.”

Dan nodded and began walking forward, “You’re right. I’m programmed to accommodate many different needs.” Before Arin realized Dan had gotten so close, he suddenly felt hands slide onto his hips from behind. Arin tensed from a mix of shock and a severe case of the stomach flutters as Dan’s lowered voice spoke into his ear, “But those talents are reserved for special buyers.”

“Woah, woah,” Arin grabbed at Dan’s wrists and paused, letting go to awkwardly turn around and grab them again, practically pinned against the counter by the android. Arin said, “That’s...well, it was nice, but that isn’t what I bought you for, either.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed slightly, eyes roaming Arin’s face as he replied, “I’m sorry if I overstepped a boundary or jumped to conclusions.”

“You didn’t,” Arin assured, only mildly perturbed by the fact that Dan was making no move to back away, clearly not understanding human boundaries. All the same, he didn’t push Dan away, continuing, “Maybe...we’ll get to testing that some day, but I bought you because I saw potential in you.”

“Potential?”

“Yeah. You know, the ability to grow into something more. You’re an amazing singer, and...I imagine really good in bed, too, but you don’t have to be just a singer or a sex doll for me. I don’t want that for you, unless that’s really all you want to do,” Arin said.

Dan pulled his arms back slowly and thought, appearing to stare at a nondescript point. After a moment of computing, he looked back up at Arin and asked, “What else can I do?”

“Whatever you feel like, really.”

“What sort of things do you do?” Dan asked with a curious grin.

Arin set the second slice of bread on top of his ham sandwich and took a bite, saying, “I draw sometimes, but mostly I play video games. You’d probably be like...stupid good at them.”

“I’ve never tried one,” Dan replied simply.

“Oh, dude,” Arin clapped a hand on Dan’s shoulder, “I know what we’re doing tonight.”

~~~

“Get the key, Arin, the key!” Dan said with growing anticipation.

“I’m trying my best here, this fuckin’ boss is really-NO,” Arin shouted at the screen. “That’s fucking bullshit!”

Dan was laughing at the latest blunder, in which the boss of the level had repeatedly hit Arin until Arin’s avatar fell off a cliff. “It seems the dungeon master will hold on to the key for another day,” Dan said.

“Oh no he won’t, I’m coming in hot,” Arin retorted, gripping the controller tightly and leaning forward on the couch as he restarted the fight.

Dan smirked at Arin and watched him from the corner of his ocular unit as he said, “You could be coming in hot elsewhere.”

“Listen, Daniel, as much as I would love that, I’m a bit busy with mister bitch...tits...thinks he can do whatever he wants Mcgee over here.”

Dan chuckled, “Well, as soon as you’re done with mister Mcgee, I think you’ll have earned a reward.”

“Thanks Dan I’ll keep it in mind,” Arin said quickly as he did his best to focus and not become distracted at the thought of the reward. “Come on, asshole, just--fucking don’t you dare go for the edge I swear to--no, NO! God damnit!” Arin threw his controller and collapsed backwards. “Next time on fuckin’ Game Grumps.”

Dan giggled, covering his mouth and saying, “He’ll get it next time everybody, we promise. But first, some pity sex.”

“I don’t want your pity sex!” Dan allowed Arin to retort before Dan switched off the recording equipment using the wireless connection in his mind. Arin groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. Dan cooed, “Aww, poor guy,” as he wrapped an arm around him.

Arin shifted to lay his head on Dan’s shoulder, mumbling, “This is really hard.”

“You know what else is really hard?” He bit his bottom lip as Arin gave him a tired look before Dan said, “My heart.”

Arin snorted, “What, do you have a heart boner for me?”

“Yeah,” Dan replied, curling his other arm around Arin in a hug. Arin chuckled and fell silent, enjoying Dan’s company in silence for a few moments before Dan said, “You make me feel like I have one.”

Arin blinked and turned to look up at him, “What?”

Dan removed one arm to rub at the port in his chest where his battery was, “A heart. Back at the club, all I was ever good for was entertainment. But here, I feel like...I’m feeling. And I feel like I’m so much more than that.”

Arin said, “Well don’t be silly, Dan. Of course you’re more than that.” He hesitated and set a hand on Dan’s cheek, “I always knew you were more than that.”

Dan leaned his head into Arin’s palm with a soft hum, setting one of his own hands over Arin’s. “I feel free with you,” Dan said quietly.

“Free? To me, it’s more like priceless,” Arin wiggled an eyebrow before they both snorted at the corny joke. It wasn’t until they’d collected themselves that Arin even noticed their mouths were inches apart from each other, and before he knew it, Dan had leaned in for a kiss. And Arin let him, because by now he knew:

It was what Dan wanted.

i’m gonna be honest, if this gets enough attention i’d be more than happy to turn this into a full length ao3 fic. there were so many possibilities i tossed around while writing it; let me know what you think!!

#egobang #detroit become human #au #fic #ficlet #androids #robots #kiss #fluff #wholesome

144 notes · View notes

canadian-buckbeaver · 6 years

Text

In Thirium, I should Hate You

Gavin and RK900 (newly named Richard) are on the trail of a couple of noctious gangsters who have been distributing a new form of Red Ice. For months they have been tracking their every move, every communication. Tonight their plan is foolproof... sort of.

For @nikki-on-edge! Here is my form of our art trade!

The city was quiet and dark. Clouds were on the horizon, the promise of rain high in the air. Well, the weatherman had said that there was about an 85% chance of precipitation today. But that didn’t matter. Even that would work out in their favour. See, he had learned that there were three main types of civilians. During this time, the majority of the civilians would be home in their warm beds, sleeping and dreaming of the sun or of loved ones. Others may be still working during the night, searching for more time in a day, or for a better tomorrow. And others yet may be predators lurking in the shadows, stalking the night, waiting for unlucky prey to fall into their traps. Yet, he and his partner were not like these three main groups. They were part of a rare, fourth option. One that took many characteristics of both these different groups and made it into their own. Usually they were home, sleeping or listening to one of the many media outlets. Other times they worked around the clock, trying to finish a little more work before the next sunrise. And others, as was the case for tonight, tonight they hunted. Hunting the hunters.

Tonight was the night that all their planning would come to fruition. It was foolproof, down to the last detail. They just had to follow their plan. They had already parked their car about five blocks from the takedown site and were making their way to the designated meeting spot, at least thirty minutes before they were scheduled. His partner and him made their way quickly and quietly through the night, avoiding the garbage that littered the area. Avoiding giving away their positions. Everything was going according to plan.

As he followed behind his partner, he allowed his gaze to look up at the sky, scanning, searching. He knew that humans once told of ancient myths of the stars and planets in the sky. In particular, they told many stories of how the stars above were used by gods and angels to look down upon the earth that they loved. It was a beautiful tale but…

His eyes narrowed slightly, searching the dark skies. Despite it being the ideal time of night, stars never appeared in the city skyline. Earth’s atmosphere had long since succumbed to human’s constant poisoning of the environment, leaving the skyline cloaked in dust and pollutants, blocking their ancient light. The air was heavy and humid tonight, the forecast calling for rain and thundershowers but for now, now the sky was clear. Bright blue lights scanned the horizon as he silently followed behind his partner. He could almost imagine where the stars would be…

“For fuck’s sake, are you seriously gonna follow me absolutely everywhere I go?” the human growled in a low whisper.

“I’m sorry detective, but as per my programming and directions that were given to me…”

Gavin scoffed, interrupting the android. “I’ve told you before where you can stuff your programming.” The man increased the size of his stride, probably hoping to put more distance in between himself and the android. RK900, or Richard as he had been ‘named’, said nothing but also increased his stride, easily keeping pace with his human partner. Flashing yellow, his LED light sparked at his temple as he scanned Gavin quickly. Aside from the slowly increasing heart rate from their near jog, the human seemed to have normal vital signs. Oxygen was at 98%, his heart beating about 73 beats per minute. He was exhaling more water, but Richard attributed it to the abnormally warm night…

Gavin ducked behind a corner, peeking out at the street, eyes narrowed. Following behind him, Richard stood behind him, ready to fight or defend, whatever was necessary for the mission. “Are you sure it was supposed to be tonight?” Gavin asked again, eyes slowly looking up and down the road, hand on his hidden carry. The firearm was fully loaded, safety on. Extra ammunition was hidden in the secret pocket of Gavin’s coat.

Though both he and Gavin hoped that they wouldn’t need any of those bullets.

“Yes. My research intercepted their coded email with today’s date and this location. Fred ‘the King’ should be meeting Billy Bully here in approximately thirty minutes…” Richard reminded him. Humans seemed to need constant reassuring that he had done his job right. After all this time, the creators were wary of their creations it seemed.

“I didn’t need a fucking essay. It was a yes or no question, but I suppose that you forgot to take that into your calculation. I swear you chunks of plastics love to hear the sound of your own voices.” Gavin snapped at him.

Richard’s eyebrow rose slightly with mirth. As much as Gavin wanted to pretend that he could work without assistance, he seemed to constantly need reminding of important information. His hormone levels severely compromised the memory banks. Richard’s mind did not rely on chemicals that were finicky as the day was long, luckily. His hardware really was much more superior than the organ that humans called a brain. “I admit that it is a plus.” He said, quickly scanning up and down the street. No sign of the dealers yet.

Eyes flashing, Gavin looked back to face him. “Just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he snapped.

The android looked at him levelly. “It means that it gives me the chance to recalculate my evidence, making sure that I have come to the right conclusion,” Richard explained. “And, since we have come up with no clues to counteract with anything that I found this morning, we can conclude that…”

During his talk, Gavin had turned away from him, watching the road ahead of them. The human wasn’t listening, he realized. Probably had gotten ‘bored’ of him again, or he was speaking that sarcasm that he was so fond of. Then again, Gavin was busy plotting their next move, or possibly the best way to try and escape him. Gavin was one of a few humans that the android couldn’t get a proper read on. He was sarcastic, rude and obnoxious, his distrust and disgust for the androids open and honest. yet he seemed to be hiding something from him, from the rest of the department. Gavin could have rejected having the robot as his partner after all.

Instead of asking more questions or continuing talking, Richard fell silent, deciding that he wouldn’t risk their mission for the sake of a few words.

Besides, he had more than made his point.

Time seemed to pass slowly for the two. They stood there in the alleyway, waiting, not daring to move. If they were spotted now, then all the progress that the department had made over the last three years would have been for nought. They would have to start all over again, right from the beginning. All while civilians and others lost their lives – overdosing on Red Ice, getting pulled in the middle by the warring street gangs. No, for the sake of the mission and the lives of others, failure was not an option. If they were able to take out these officers and remove this Ice from the street… well, it would save countless lives. Perhaps people would finally see what he, or his kind, could bring to society. That they were useful, not just for accidentally replacing their human counterparts but also for….

“Someone is coming,” Gavin whispered, interrupting his thoughts. Richard quickly pulled himself out of what Hank and Gavin called his screensaver mode. The alley and street were still dark and quiet, nothing out of the order to be seen. He turned to face Gavin. Gavin had done these tricks before, engaging his Combat Mode before it was necessary and wasting precious power and opportunities. This time he could see that Gavin was not joking around. In Gavin’s hands was his department-issued cell phone, complete with all the bells and whistles installed. A small flashing light was getting closer. During their last mission, Richard had managed to install a tracking device on one of the cars, just above the tailpipe where no one could see.

And now… now another car was approaching from behind them. Their lights and engine off as they silently coasted towards the meeting place.

He pulled Gavin back slightly, letting the alleyway shield the both them from immediate view. The clouds still covered the moon, obscuring their shadows. For once, Gavin let the android pull him back. Protect him.

Richard watched the cars’ approach carefully, his LED spinning with a soft yellow. Both were typical trash cars. Cars that were used for meetups like this and, if they were identified, were typically dumped, wiped and tossed with little expense to the drivers. No care necessary, run them into the ground… much like how some viewed their androids. Used them until they broke… lifeless toys…

His motherboard flashed with a quick warning before it self-repaired itself, causing him to once again focus on the mission. He didn’t need to be distracted, he and Gavin couldn’t afford it. Too much was at stake. The cars were parked now, Gavin watching them carefully.

As the men stepped out of their respectful cars, Richard pressed the triangle on his jacket. His jacket wasn’t just part of his outer shell. It was also full of hidden gadgets, ones that would help make the police’s jobs easier in the gathering of evidence. The audio and camera hidden inside his zipper head came on silently, recording the men’s every move. Of course, both himself and Gavin planned on arresting on them, but they would need as much evidence as possible for their case to hold up in court. And according to recent statistics showed that the combination of audio and video was the second strongest form of evidence, second only to DNA.

Though, without much light, the video might as well just be moving audio.

“Do you have it?” one of the men asked the other.

The other man scoffed. “Of course I have it. You better have my fucking money.”

“You watch your fucking tone with me. Don’t you dare treat me with any disrespect.” The other man stepped closer to the other’s car.

“Listen here close, asshole. I have others who are wanting to get their hands on these pills. You were the first one to connect with me, meaning you’re the first served. So shut your fucking mouth, and give me my money, or I’ll move down to the next one on the list. Got it?” The man pulled a briefcase from the back of his car, opening it in a smooth move. The dim light from the car’s interior gave Richard just enough light to see it glint off hundreds of small baggies. Baggies that held little red pills.

There they were. The new, concentrated form of Red Ice that had been slowly hitting the market. Richard could feel Gavin tense beside him, his heart rate increasing slightly. Growing excited or stressed, Richard couldn’t immediately tell. Moving slightly, he gripped Gavin’s elbow, seeking to steady him.

This time, Gavin did not appreciate the comfort.

Jerking his hand away, he stepped to the side to get more distance in between him.

Bumping into an incorrectly placed garbage can.

Time seemed to pause for Richard. Scanning the area he evaluated possible solutions:

1) Grab Gavin and retreat for now – losing the men and the pills

2) Put Gavin in harm’s way and allow the men to see him

3) Shoot them, losing any other connections that they would have to this trafficking ring.

4) ….

Richard propelled Gavin behind him as the men turned towards the noise, both drawing their guns at the silhouette. His LED flashed yellow as he activated his telecommunications. “This is RK-900, codename Richard working with the Detroit Police department. I am at Newport Ave in view of a drug deal…” the men opened fire. Richard could smell the hot iron of the bullets. “Shots are fired. Immediate backup is requested.” He closed off the communications, choosing instead to focus his attention on the two slowly retreating gang members. They were trying to get to their cars he realized.

Trying to escape.

He felt one bullet go through his right arm, and then another go through his left leg, thirium spilling onto his clothing. Neither of these were particularly vulnerable spots. He could still function…

For now.

He had the mission to focus on. Richard began to walk towards the cars and men, one hand guarding his core as the men shot on. He had to immobilize the dealers before they returned to the cars, escaping with the pills and themselves. They needed to get the drugs off of the street. They needed to take down the ring…

One of the men readjusted his aim, firing just to the right of the android. Why…

The answer was obvious. Gavin had been spotted.

Without a second thought, Richard moved into the path of the bullet. With a jerk, the bullet entered his chest, blue thirium spurting onto his jacket. His shell was severely compromised. If he took any more bullets in the same area, his electronic circuits would begin to be affected by the excess metal.

There was the sound of a quick, professional reload. And then the shooting continued. Another bullet, lucky shot or not, found his hip joint. Richard grit his teeth as the bullet jammed in the socket. No… if he couldn’t…

Red, white and blue lights lit up the small alleyway, cloaking everything in bright lights. Police officers, androids and humans together, surrounded the two gangsters. Guns were drawn, orders snapped…

The two men, outnumbered and outgunned, surrounded. Guns placed on the ground and kicked away. Arms coming up to rest on their heads.

The ordeal over at last.

Mission Accomplished.

* * * * *

Gavin had disappeared amongst the lights and uniforms when the police had shown up. Richard chose not to say anything at first. The man was unpredictable at best and completely volatile at his worst. For all he knew, Gavin was busy doing something else that Richard had overlooked, or perhaps even getting coffee.

It was when the repair android on sight had finished repairing him and Gavin still hadn’t reappeared was when Richard realized that there was something wrong.

Letting the other investigators take over the crime scene, Richard slowly walked down the alleyway, scanning for clues. Behind a couple of cardboard boxes, he found him.

Gavin’s stats were completely out of line of what a human considered normal or good. His heart rate was too fast and hard, elevating his blood pressure to dangerous levels. His breathing was laboured and shallow, causing his oxygen levels to drop. The man was trembling and sweating, hunched in on himself like a broken child, head between his knees.

A small gasp escaped him.

Reacting instinctively, Richard came beside Gavin. Wrapping an arm around Gavin, he pulled the smaller man into his lap, rocking softly.

“What the fuck?” Gavin demanded, trying to control his breathing and his heart rate. Trying to control the situation. “Where the fuck did you come from? How…”

“Hush for now,” Richard said, rubbing the man’s back as a mother would a child. “Do not think of that. Deep breaths in. Hold. Breathe Out. Concentrate on me.”

Gavin tried to argue again, his eyes glaring at the android. Richard held tight to the human, shielding him from the boxes, from the rising sun, from whatever demons were chasing him.

Slowly but surely, Gavin’s stats improved. His oxygen increased, his heartbeat slowed, trembling disappeared. Instead of continuing the struggle, Gavin sagged against the android, his eye fastened to the deep blue stains on Richard’s once white jacket. Thirium stained everything that it came into contact with. Richard would need a new jacket. “Sorry.” he croaked. “I’m sorry.”

Richard’s LED whirled yellow as he took in his words. “Sorry? Whatever for?” he asked.

“You know what!” Gavin snapped quickly before looking away. “I caused this… I shouldn’t have been a cop… this… this isn’t the first time… no… I just…” his heartbeat was rising again, his pupils dilating. “I could have lost you…” He began to tremble again. “Tim… he… last time shots were fired…”

Richard briefly recalled seeing the picture of a Timothy MacDonald Jr. on the wall of heroes at the police department. The man had been partnered with Gavin before the rise of the android cops…

And had been killed in a standoff.

“He… he shielded me from the gunman… just like you…. it was because of him…. because me… he…” Gavin stuttered. “I’m supposed to be above this… put this guilt behind me…. but… seeing you… seeing you bleed…”

“My mission is to help protect Detroit in coordination with the Detroit Police Department. That means I do what I can to protect you and the citizens, you first. I cannot help you and the citizens if I am offline.” Gavin slowly turned to look at him, the wild animal look slowly leaving his eyes. “Besides, it takes a lot more than that to kill an android.” Richard told him, squeezing him tightly, “and you would have never lost me. Even if they had managed to kill me, my memories would have been uploaded into the next robot and I would have returned. Just like with Connor.”

Gavin looked at the android, eyes seemingly searching him for any mirth or sign of a lie. Richard met his gaze evenly. Everything he had said was true. He needed to do what he could to complete the mission and keep his partner safe.

“I suppose that means that I am stuck with you until I retire.”

Richard allowed a small smile to spread across his face. “Well, since I was assigned to you personally, technically you would be stuck with me until I was deactivated or until you passed.”

A false look of horror flashed across Gavin’s face. “Oh fuck no am I getting stuck with a fucking android for the rest of my life!” He struggled against Richard’s grip, hands coming to push at his chest. “LET ME GO, YOU TIN CAN!”

Chuckling, Richard held tight to the struggling human. Gavin was back.

117 notes · View notes

finding-jericho-blog · 6 years

Text

Empathy (Part Two)

characters: Josh (dbh) x human fem!reader

warning(s): Violence, graphic language, injury

word count: 1,706 words

A/N: I’m going to be on vacation until the 30th, so I’m not going to have a chance to update til then! I hope this will hold you over til then!

Part One

Part Three

While the assailants drew nearer, the ring-leader shook his head and sighed, as though he were somehow disappointed with the outcome. “S’a real shame, actually,” he mused, resting the crowbar on his shoulder, peering down at you with a cold, amused smile. “yer real pretty, but ya tried to ruin our fun. Can’t really let that slide, can I? I’ll tell ya what, maybe if ya ask nicely, I’ll take ya back to my place and ya can make up for it.”

Before you could even summon the breath to tell him to go fuck himself, a sudden wailing of an alarm caused you and the attackers alike to nearly jump out of your skins, and a sudden onslaught of water poured from the ceiling, drenching you to the bone. The group of drunk college students’ eyes darted around, clearly spooked by the sudden torrent, backing away from both you and the android behind you. Without another word, they retreated, either sobered up by the chilling downpour or frightened by the noisy alarm; either way, you were simply thankful that the alarm had gone off to begin with, though you couldn’t be sure as to why it had.

With a sigh of relief, you turned towards the android, but were startled by the appearance of his eyes; the whites of his eyes had gone completely black, and his irises themselves looked significantly more robotic than human-like. You briefly wondered for a moment if he had finally deactivated from the damage he’d sustained, since you’d.. never seen a deactivated android to know what it would look like. His LED was still spinning with a crimson red glow, but you still studied his features with no small amount of uncertainty. However, he shifted his weight suddenly, blinking several times as his eyes returned to their previous state; they immediately darted to meet yours, and you both simply… looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, until he finally removed his arm from around your waist as though suddenly realizing that it was there.

“Are you... alright?” His voice was gentle, if a little cautious, as though he were trying to soothe a frightened doe. You? Of course you were alright; sure, there was a dull ache in your abdomen from where you’d been kicked, but he was literally beaten to a bloody pulp, not that he could feel the pain of it, thankfully.

Shaking your head, you huffed out an, “I’m fine,” then moved to sit back some, your eyes flitting across his damaged frame. “what about you?” The PJ500 paused, his eyes blinking rapidly in a way that might have come across as unsettling if he hadn’t been an android.

“Some of my bio-components are damaged,” He admitted, his diagnostic scan having been completed. “but I’ll be alright for the time being.” You felt some relief at that, knowing that your intervention wasn’t completely in vain, at least not yet it wasn’t. It was a wonder that he was still active, seeing as how much blue blood was literally everywhere, even all over you, and you’d really barely touched him. The water from the sprinklers was washing it away though, and you took a moment to peer upwards in sudden realization that there might actually be a fire that you should be concerned about. “That was me,” the android spoke somewhat hesitantly, seeming to catch on to your apprehension; this admission drew your gaze back to his as he further elaborated. “I hacked into the system and tripped the alarm, I-- I didn’t know what else to do, they were going to kill us both..”

He’d done that.. by his own volition? Your brows furrowed as you considered this, but.. the implications of that would have to wait, so you put them aside to be examined later. “I can’t believe that worked,” you breathed out a laugh of disbelief, “but.. we’d better get out of here before they realize there isn’t a fire.” Or before the authorities showed up; neither sounded particularly pleasant.

The android nodded in agreement, peering down at himself as though he were trying to decide how exactly he was going to manage that. Without hesitation, you crawled over to him, slipping your arm around his shoulders. Although he looked a little uncertain, he didn’t shy away from you as you pushed yourself to your feet, hauling him upwards with you with quite a bit of difficulty. He helped as much as he could, but he was beyond heavy and one of his legs was pretty much shattered, so most of his weight was being solely supported by you. You weren’t particularly strong by anyone’s standards, but you were managing.

As the two of you hobbled through the halls and finally made it out into the crisp, October air, you trembled from the sudden shift in temperature, especially when a cool breeze suddenly blew right through you; it was only worsened by the fact that you were completely soaked. However, that was the least of your concerns; you had to decide what on earth you were gonna do with the android suddenly under your care. Like he said, his bio-components were damaged and were going to need replaced, but.. you didn’t own any bio-components, how exactly were you supposed to repair him? “I’m not sure what to..-- do I… take you to a CyberLife store? Or--”

“No!” his sudden cry startled you, causing you to nearly drop him, and you might have if he hadn’t suddenly shoved himself away from you and caught himself on the brick wall beside the both of you. Your [y/e/c] eyes widened and you held your hands up to show him that you meant no harm, but he still clung to the wall. “Don’t take me there-- please!”

“Hey.. hey,” You shook your head, keeping your hands up. “It’s okay! I won’t take you there, I promise. You’re alright, you don’t have to be afraid..” Although you wouldn’t say, you were a little.. alarmed by just how life-like his ‘emotions’ were; as far as you knew, androids didn’t have emotions, they were just machines, but this one… this one had very clearly been exhibiting what seemed to you to be fear. Now, you had read an article a while back about some androids attacking their owners, and they were beginning to call these exceptions ‘deviants’. Was it possible that you were dealing with one? Yes.. but he’d technically saved both of your lives, so you weren’t all that afraid of him. A little.. cautious, maybe, but you didn’t think he was going to hurt you. Still, though, the fact remained that you weren’t exactly prepared to take care of a damaged android, deviant or otherwise.

Your soothing tone and your promise that you weren’t going to take him to CyberLife seemed to calm him, and he nodded with a little less panic. He shifted over to you, then, and you accepted his weight back onto your shoulders, thankful that he was willing to trust you still. “I’ll have to.. figure out a way to get you the parts you’ll need, though.” You told him as you lead him across the courtyard to the bus stop, setting him down to rest on the bench. You plopped down beside him and sighed in reprieve, resting your head on the display behind you and allowing your eyes to slip shut for a moment. Unbeknownst to you, the PJ500 was staring at you intently, his dark, umber eyes flitting across your features with some.. hesitation. Although you had frightened him by mentioning the possibility of taking him to CyberLife, he had a feeling that you didn’t really mean any harm, and he couldn’t quite.. understand why it was that you were helping him.

“Haven’t you done enough?” His question prompted you to open your eyes and peer over at him, knitting your brows in confusion. “It’s just--.. you nearly got yourself killed trying to stop those students from attacking me. You don’t.. have to help me.”

“I would want someone to help me, if I were you.”

He seemed surprised by your comment, his eyebrows arching upwards and his lips parting wordlessly. If.. you were him? You made it sound like you empathized with his situation, and usually, empathy was something reserved for other human beings.. He vaguely wondered if you were sympathetic to deviants like him, or if you just didn’t grasp the scope of what you were doing for him. Regardless, you were treating him as though he was an equal and.. he appreciated that. His first moments of being awake had been spent fighting for his life while a group of humans viciously attacked him for no reason, humans he had been meant to serve, and teach, and nurture, and yet they had turned on him so heartlessly.. But on the other hand, here you were, selflessly risking your own safety to help him. Maybe.. not all humans were violent monsters..

“Besides,” you started, drawing him out of his introspection. “your leg is pretty busted up, you wouldn’t get very far on it on your own.”

The PJ500 smiled, then; a wry, half-hearted sort of smile, but a smile nonetheless. “What’s your name?” He asked suddenly, after realizing that he didn’t even know the name of the one who had saved him. Your eyes widened a fraction when you, too, realized that you didn’t know his name, and then you smiled somewhat abashedly.

Softly, you uttered your name to him, canting your head to the side as he repeated it, as though it were some profound gift that he’d been given. “.. what’s yours?”

“Josh.” he replied easily.

Now, you smiled, nodding a fraction. You could only hope that you could actually help Josh in time; he hadn’t told you how long he had until he shut down, and you knew you couldn’t just walk into a CyberLife store and ask for parts. Even if they DID let you buy them, due to company policy, they would demand to repair Josh themselves, and he didn’t want that.

There was only one place you were going to get spare parts, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

#josh #detroit become human #detroit: become human #detroit become human josh #dbh josh #Josh x reader #reader imagine #reader insert #x reader

43 notes · View notes

sloanesmortuary · 6 years

Text

Predecessor: Prologue

Hi!! This is my first ever fic!! I apologize in advance if there's any mistakes from grammar (I mostly learn English from the internet pls forgive) to how innacurate I could've written the characters compared to the canon (excluding OCs)

Connor/RK700!M!Reader (I think? Idk that's what I'm going for)

1711 words

"Meet RK800. The more advanced model. Stronger, faster, and more resilient."

Your eyes went wide. You knew you're just a prototype, you knew this ought to happen, but you felt as if your heart just dropped. You opened your mouth to say something. Amanda cut you just before you get the chance to. She's not allowing you to talk. "You accomplished your mission and I am pleased with your work. Because of this, now we know that your programs works well and we are ready to take the next step with RK800." Amanda glanced at your successor, "Hi, my name is Connor. I will be replacing you in the DPD," the RK800 introduced himself.

"You will be deactivated by tommorow," said Amanda.

"...deactivated..."

"No... Why can't I just stay? I can still help Detective Reynolds!" You protested to no avail, obviously. Amanda's usual stoic expression turned into a frown. "I am not here to answer your question." You've never felt this troubled in your short life. "Please, I beg you! I-I'm scared." Your LED turned to yellow, flashing back and forth to red. Connor's LED also turned to yellow, but it quickly changed to blue. "You're giving a reason why you must be replaced. Aside from the fact that Connor is more advanced than you."

"Hey, hey, [y/n] the hell? You okay?" your partner had her hand on your shoulder, she was looking at you with a worried look on her face. You were crying and you didn't realize it. "They're going to replace me, Detective Reynolds." She looks rather surprised from what you just said. You've grown to her and so had she in the past months. It's against your programming, but you don't want to lose her friendship. "What? Does that mean you'll get deactivated? Where would you go after that? Stored away at some warehouse? Can you do anything about that? Fuck- that's not right," she muttered the last bit of what she just said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes. I will get deactivated and be stored away for further study, and I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do to prevent it. I'll be sent back to CyberLife tommorow." Leila walked back to her desk- that's infront of yours- and sighed, "What if... You don't go? I know someone who can do magic." Your LED immediately turned yellow. "What?"

---

"Are you sure about this? You'll lose your job!" She didn't respond to you and kept on driving on her old manual car. You were scared for her. Anything you see and hear are recorded and will be sent to CyberLife, though you're not sure whether they will use the footage to do anything later. She pulled over infront of an apartment building. She rushed you in and to the elevator and pressed on the button for the 4th floor. "You do know that removing trackers on androids is illegal, right?" She waved you off, "Do you wanna live or nah?" You blinked several times then nodded. "Well, then shut it."

Leila set you free. You're a true deviant. They said trackers stopped working on deviants, but who knows what sort of enhancements they put in yours?

You couldn't bear with the fact that you are actually feeling emotions. You've always thought of it as an error in one's system. Knowing that now you experience emotions like humans does made you go through everything you've learned.

---

Days passed after your disappearance (thanks to Detective Leila Reynolds who risked her job for you.) You lived in an abandoned house Leila found. You even got a friend there, his name's Ralph. A jolly kind, though a little menacing. Ralph was on edge when they trespassed the old outgrown building. He pointed his knife to your partner, but she didn't point her gun at him. She kept her hand ready for it, though. "Easy... I just wanted to find a place for him to stay. We don't want to hurt you and he just need a place to lay down for a while." Ralph looked at you. You and Leila noticed the overly large scar on his face. This guy has been through a lot of shit. "Can I stay? If you don't want a company we will find another place. It's okay," you said. "Ralph is sorry. He doesn't like trespassers- especially humans- they're nasty. They'll hurt Ralph," he lowered his knife and gestured to the house's front door. "You can stay. Ralph thinks getting a friend wouldn't hurt." You smiled and thanked him. "Succulent!" He exclaimed. "Ralph is excited to get to know his new friend!"

Leila means the world to you. She's the first person to be your friend. Others (like Detective Reed) pushes you around to do pointless tasks as if you're an android designed to do domestic works. You were the most advanced android a little while back until you met Connor. Those people didn't seem to understand how advanced you are by making you do those tasks and they might seem to think that you're just a stupid piece of plastic stealing their jobs, though you get where their thoughts come from but you're only doing what you're programmed to: helping the DPD. To Leila, you're more than you ever think you are. She thought of you as a perfect being. She thought letting you become deviant would ruin the perfection in your design, but she didn't want you to have to obey every single commands you receive even if they're wrong. She interacted with you from the very start as if you're human. She's the main reason you're feeling emotions now. She made you feel alive, more than just a machine designed to follow orders no matter what.

Obviously, the office started panicking after your disappearance. CyberLife contacted the DPD about the absence of the successful RK700 model. This resulted in Fowler screaming to Leila.

"Well, how am I supposed to know where it went?!”

"It's your partner, Reynolds!"

"So what? I gotta keep it around like a poodle so I'll know wherever it went?"

"Don't give me that attitude! Now just go fuckin find that thing. Start wherever you last saw it. If you don't find anything I'll send a search party. This is so stupid, how could they lost track of their own damn fancy property. Don't forget to close the door on your way out."

Shivers went down Leila's spine. "They won't find him," she said to herself determined. "I'll make this search pointless. Ha. Cool. I'm a criminal now," she chuckled on her way back to her desk. She passed by Gavin on the way, he shot her a glare and stopped her. She knew he's suspicious of her. He talked about how she's always nice to you and to him, that's a solid motive for her to hide you when you're going to be replaced. She just shrugged it off and left Gavin be.

---

Your place was eventually replaced by the RK800. He's partnered with Lt. Anderson. He was paired with him to see if his skills could be compared to someone more advanced than Leila. The upgrades on RK800 weren't perfect because they couldn't bring you in in time to do a further study. "Another one of those damn things and this one is partnered with ME? Why can't it just be Reynolds again? She's more of an android person!" Fowler sighed, "This one is more advanced and it should be partnered with someone with more experience. Which happens to be you, Hank." Hank looked at Connor and squinted. "At least it look different. Still doesn't change the fact that I can't stand these things, Jeff!" They kept on shouting to each other for a good minute until the Lieutenant's defeat.

Their first case together went down smoothly. Hank is glad about that. "It ain't useless. That's good. It couldn't stop licking stuff from the ground though. I probably need to bring a puke bag around whenever I gotta be around it," Hank said in his head, making a mental note. Now, they're investigating an AX400 who attacked its owner and ran away. It's also said that the RK700, you might be around the place where the AX400 was last seen.

"Mother, father, uncle, and little girl!" Ralph jumped around excitedly. You could see that Alice and Kara are extremely uncomfortable, but Kara's even more uncomfortable. You knew she also saw the police coming. Good thing that she managed to talk to Ralph that they need to hide.

Connor went inside the house. You hid with Kara and Alice under the stairs. You held on to an old, yet sturdy baseball bat you found upstairs, ready to defend them. Connor questioned Ralph and he won't budge. He continued to search the house from the living room to the kitchen but he didn't go upstairs. He knew the three of you were hiding there. He approached your hiding spot and- CLANK! You hit him in the face as Ralph held him back while Kara and Alice ran. Your successor fell on his knees from the hit. Thirium ran down from his nose and mouth, that's how strong your hit was. "Connor, what the hell are you doing there?!" You kneeled down to face him and he looked up to meet your eyes. "Don't say a word about us or I'll take out your pump regulator," you threatened him. Your hand was on the spot just below his chest, ready to take out his regulator. "I don't care if you take it out. I'm not alive." You stared at him as if he's some sort of an anomaly. Having emotions really does change you. "I'm not alive." That creeps the living hell out of you. "They're here!" He shouted. "Ralph, let's go!" The both of you sprinted to the back door as you hear people barging into the house. Shots were fired. You caught some bullets but it didn't hit any major biocomponents, though you could die from the lack of thirium. You heard Connor shout, "we need the RK700 alive!" before you feel a weight over you. An officer tackled and handcuffed you before you could do anything due to the ever decreasing thirium flowing in your systems.

55 notes · View notes

its-warm-in-here · 6 years

Text

To Err is Human Ch 4 (ConnorRK800xReader)

Thanks so much for reading! I’m thinking that i should start doing requests, would anyone be up for that?

Summary: You are one of the head designers of the RK800 and when you here it’s going to be decommissioned, you make a move to keep at least on of the models in tact. Word Count ~1,600

You woke up around nine the next morning, but not because of an alarm sounding off or birds chirping. No, you woke to a gentle pat on your cheek and someone calling your name. You groaned having been up far too late the previous night to be up now, but still opened your eyes.

“It’s me Connor,” the android stared down at you, a line of blue blood running from under the bandage onto its chin. You groaned rolling over, facing the other side of the bed. You heard footsteps and a warm hand gently shook your shoulder. “I'm sorry to wake you, but the closest Cyberlife store opens in less than an hour and I am still leaking thirium.” you grabbed one of your pillows and smack it in the chest as hard as you could. Connor brushed the pillow to the side as if it was hardly there. “I would have gone myself but you instructed me not to leave the apartment. I agree with your decision to keep me here, but unless I stop these leaks soon I will start to shut down biocomponents.”

You shoved yourself up onto your elbows, shooting daggers at it. Connor was still loosing blue blood as he had said. Down its face and clothes were fresh stains of blue and who knows how much was on the couch. “Are you feeling alright?” you swing your legs over to the side of the bed, stretching upward.

“I performed several diagnostics this morning and all of my biocomponents are operating at seventy six percent on average. Nothing has been seriously damaged, but without proper repairs in a timely manner, I will have to shut down some of my less critical systems,” Connor informed you.

You stood up, attempting to side step around Connor and nearly losing your balance in the process. You wobbled for a moment before it caught you around the waist. “T-thanks.”

“No problem.”

You moved past him and picked out several of what you considered less conspicuous cloths. A grey sweater and dark pants and a jacket to match. “Let me take a shower and I’ll head there, okay robo-boy?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it tilt its head slightly to the side, processing what you had said.

Your shower was a quick but much needed relief after the previous night. Breaking out a discontinued android, being responsible for the deaths of coworkers, and now keeping said android in your home felt like it hadn't happened to you. It was as if it were like a dream. You dried your hair and pulled your clothes on, shaking the last remnants of sleep from your body.

You grabbed your purse, walking past Connor without a second glance.

“I would suggest eating something before you leave,” the android piped up from the couch.

“I'll grab something on the way, don't concern yourself,” you replied before closing the door behind you.

The taxi ride to the CyberLife store was nothing short of dull. You gazed out the window watching the rain race across the glass, your cheek resting on one hand, the other drumming the leather next to you. You counted yourself lucky that CyberLife hadn't sent some hitman to your apartment in search of the RK800, but maybe you had somehow gotten away with your hastily thrown together caper. Maybe Connor had been way more discreet than you had assumed. Or maybe CyberLife was just toying with you and was going to demolish you the next time set foot in the building.

You were lost in thought when the taxi slowed to a halt in front of the outdoor mall. Hopping out into the drizzle, you ran as fast as you could to the nearest ATM and withdraw two hundred in cash. You shivered and stuffed the money into your purse. You were about to head to the CyberLife store but as you passed a coffee stand you paused.

You really should eat something. You hadn't had anything since yesterday around three and you had promised Connor. Groaning, you entered the shop.

Once you had a breakfast sandwich and coffee in hand you resumed you mission. For a Saturday, you were surprised that the mall was rather slow. Must be the weather. None the less you were thankful for less faces. The CyberLife store was one of the busier places with about ten or so customers perusing the androids.

You snatched up four bottles of Thirium 310 and two cans of Patchwork Sealant. Keeping your head directed away from the camera, you paid the service bot, wishing you could use your employee discount but also not wanting to have this traced back to you more than it already was. With one last stop and a men's clothing shop, you were on got way back home.

You half expected that hit man from your thoughts earlier to be holding Connor up at gunpoint when you arrived home. Instead it sat on your couch where you had left it, its eyes closed in a peaceful sleep mode. Androids were designed to be beautiful, but when Connor was resting, he seemed younger. You weren't sure how to describe it but it made you smile a bit to see him so comfortable in your home.

Gently running your thumb over its cheek, it roused it from its sleep mode. “I got the thirium and a few other things.”

Connor resumed its posture of sitting up so straight that it looked uncomfortable, “Did you get something to eat?”

You snorted, dropping the shopping bags onto the coffee table. “Is the deviant-hunting android seriously concerned for my well being?” you plopped onto the couch next to it.

“Of course, as the human who stopped my decommissioning, I would find it regrettable if something happened to you,” it explained.

You snatched one of the cans of sealant out of the bags and gave it a good shake. It wouldn't fix any internal damage but it would at least stop the leak. “How much Thirium have you lost now?” you asked, wiping the blue streak off its face.

“About thirty percent,” it replied, “I have stopped any unnecessary movement and replaced the bandages to try and prevent any further loss.”

You nodded, “Wanna get patched up?” you lifted its shirt and gave the can one last shake before removing the stained blue bandage. “Can you remove your skin for me?” around the holes, the flesh color retreated to be replaced with the pale white and grey. Against the white, the wound stood out even more. Using another piece of gauze you dabbed away the excess blue blood before spraying it with the sealant. Spritzing in short bursts, you covered the holes and gently blew on the aerosol plastic to get it to set.

Without proper repairs at a shop, the skin sealant would never match perfectly and the skin would appear a bit raised, but it was better than perpetually leaking. Moving onto its back you asked, “Your purpose is to hunt deviants, but now that you are not with CyberLife won’t that be difficult?”

Connor rested its head in its hands as you worked. “Once I feel that we have successfully gotten away from CyberLife I plan to continue my mission.”

You grunted in agreement and rolled him onto his back. You knelt at the side of the couch, fixing up his hip. “How did you get out of there anyway?”

“After I was processed to be destroyed, I waited until most the employees left the building and went out an emergency exit. Your key card was quite helpful,” Connor's eyes followed your movements, watching closely. “I can do that if you want.”

You began blowing in the plastic, “It's my fault this happened to you. If I'd just let things be you'd-"

“Have been recycled?”

You started up into those chocolate eyes. “Yeah. That.” you moved up to his forehead, repeating the process. “When I asked you if you were deviant, you didn't give me an answer.”

Connor became very quiet, the LED at its temple flickering from spinning yellow to red. “I'm not a deviant.”

“Then how did you... if you’re not a deviant how could you express any desires outside of your base programming?” you questioned.

“Self preservation is part of my programing. If my production line was destroyed, I would not be carried over into another model,” it reasoned, the LED returning to a spinning blue.

You scrunched your face, doubting its logic but dropped the issue. “Well that should do it.” you stood up, handing Connor one of the bottles of Thirium. “If you need more I'll go back tomorrow.”

Its addams apple bobbed as it swallowed the blue liquid down. “This should be plenty, thank you.”

“When you’re done you should take a shower or something. Get all that blood off.” Connor nodded in response as you went to work on the blood that it had tracked in last night. Using hydrogen peroxide and an old rag, you scrubbed at the stains. The Thirium had evaporated, leaving dark brown spots in place of the purple from last night.

Who had this belonged to? Stacey from marketing? Or maybe Raoul who was in the office next to you. Or one of those other employees who you had never known their names whose life had been snuffed out because of your irrational actions.

“Thank you for putting your life on the line for me,” Connor spoke from behind you, making you jump. You suddenly noticed a few tears forming up. Crying again. Wiping them away, you stood up. “I haven't said that yet and I apologize for inconveniencing you.”

You shook your head, “Stop thanking me, I didn't do it to help you... just...go get cleaned up. There's some clothes over there that should work better.”

Connor looked like it wanted to say something, mouth slightly agape, brows knitted together, instead it nodded and left you alone. You flopped onto the couch and flipped through the television, welcoming the moment to turn off your brain.

#detroid become human #connor x reader #connor RK800 #dbh connor #dhb #chapter 4 #any feedback is appreciated #thx

63 notes · View notes