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leviskokoro · 3 years

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Dorm Leaders as Dads

📝 :: special thanks to @rrasado for giving me the idea to write this!

🌹┆𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒

I’m guessing he might’ve only become alright with having kids around his late 20’s to early 30’s as he worries about being a good father.

Being strict is a given considering he was raised but as Riddle is much older, he’s learned to heal from the wounds his mother dealt to him and become more lenient. Among the dorm leaders, he’s the one who is constantly trying to improve so that he doesn’t become like his mother.

Always tries to be there for his child, wanting to be the best parent for them as he knows that being a parent is a huge responsibility.

Takes parenting very seriously and does whatever he can to be a good father. Probably the most serious about this.

His child would end up being a very polite person who always tries to do what is right.

🦁┆ 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑

Yeahhh uh good luck asking this one for kids because it’s gonna take a while. I’m guessing he’ll only be fine with it around mid to late 30’s. He’d have to really love his spouse to actually consider it first.

He’s pretty lax with rules when it comes to his child, but still shows them he cares by actually making the effort to spend time with them. When his child has achieved something, he’ll make sure their efforts are rewarded.

He’s definitely a bit protective because he doesn’t actually want his child to face the same prejudice he got as achild. Talk shit about his child and you will regret it.

Probably not a very good father at first to be honest but he’ll try. He’s a quick learner and genius so he’ll be able to develop into a good father later down the line.

The child will end up a bit spoiled but confident and intelligent.

🐙┆ 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎

Hmm I feel that Azul may be a bit focused on his business but he’ll comply with his spouse’s wishes if they ask. Possibly around mid 20’s

Immediately tried to plan out his child’s life so that they’d have a direction but his spouse likely said that it might not be too good of an idea. He kept it as a backup plan for them, in case they need it. Then, he made sure to research absolutely thoroughly about parenting. His parents didn’t play a big role in his life so he wished to be better than that.

Tweels are the child’s uncles, you can’t convince me otherwise.

Azul is not too strict but not too lax either. Sometimes he’ll be a bit busy with Mostro Lounge but still always makes sure to save some time for his child everyday. He will likely also teach the kid how to protect themselves as he doesn’t want them to be bullied like he was.

The child would grow up to be intelligent and cunning, possibly more so than their father. If they wished it, they could inherit Mostro Lounge too.

🦦┆ 𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐋-𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐌

Would probably want kids as fast as possible, might bug his spouse for one a lot. I’m thinking early 20’s would be when they get a child.

Spoils them to the fucking max that his spouse might have to stop him at one point. No, children usually don’t own entire zoos at the age of 2. No, children usually don’t wear clothes made of the most expensive fabrics money can find—

If Jamil is still somehow around, he might become the godfather of the child.

He’s still a great father despite being a bit over the top with his affections and will always be there to support his child with whatever they wish to do in life.

Their child ends up being more spoiled than Leona’s but is pure and good-natured, very much like their father.

👑┆ 𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐓

I take it that like Azul, Vil will be a bit focused in his line of work but it will be easier to convince him to have kids as someone who seems to be quite good with them. I’d say early to mid 20’s will be when the child is conceived.

Vil is already quite the strict mother figure to those around him and he’s not too different to his own child. He fusses and worries over them and their wellbeing a lot. But— he still makes sure they can be independent and confident.

So, as a child actor, Vil has plenty of experience on what it’s like to be one. However, he doesn’t wish to push that onto his child as there’s a lot of bad things he’s experienced in the industry. To protect them, he makes sure to keep their identity a secret to the public.

He makes sure that he supports his child despite his busy schedule and makes for a wonderful and supportive father. Their efforts will never be unnoticed by him because he knows how it feels to have your efforts wasted.

The child grows up to be confident and strict but also bright and charming.

🔧┆ 𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃

Probably around his 30’s. I don’t know if his heart would be ready for the responsibility of taking care of a child until that age. It just takes so much energy.

Awkward as hell about it and even tried making android nanies for the child to take care of the child instead of him because he’s worried he would mess up. His spouse would probably reassure him that he’ll be alright and that they’d help him along the way.

If he can’t make android nannies for the child, he’ll make sure to make robot pets so that the child is never lonely even when he’s busy with something.

Even if he’s awkward, Idia tries his best for the child and hopes they see that.

The child grows up to be a bit socially awkward but loveable and a gamer.

🐉┆ 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀

Considering we don’t seem to have an exact age for Malleus, I’ll just say he’s probably chill with kids whenever you’re comfortable.

He’s a great father considering he’s already had experience raising Silver and has Lilia to guide him along the way.

The only downside to him is that as the King of the Valley of Thorns, it’s likely that he’ll be the busiest father among the seven dorm leaders. But worry not, his duties can’t hold him from being a wonderful father to his child all the time.

The child will have many guardians as they grow up like Lilia (the most prominent one), Silver, and Sebek.

Since the child is royalty, they’ll likely grow up to be regal and elegant with grace that rivals the Witch of Thorns herself.

#twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #idia shroud #riddle rosehearts

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callmemythicalminx · 4 years

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Birds and the Bees 4- DBH Connor x Reader

Can be read as a stand alone!

Fandom: Detroit:Become Human

Warning: Talking ‘bout sex, Awkwardness

Summary: Now that you and Connor have been doing ‘The Devil’s Tango’ for a few months now, you’ve noticed something recently that seems too insane to be true. It’s time for you to see if it’s actually possible.

A/N: I had to write another part of BATB for my first fanfic back after being away for so long. You guys really love this series and it’s one of my favourites too. Every since finishing part 3.5, I always wanted to add more as there’s definitely more ideas to be told with Connor and his innocense. I feel like this might be the last one, but who knows, I might write more in the future...

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What. The. Fuck!

This is actually happening. The stick in your hands confirms it- you’re pregnant. For the past two months, you’d noticed that you’d missed a few periods, nearly every morning waking up with a trip to the bathroom to throw up and your tiredness had been getting worse everyday too. You’d had initial ideas that it might just be stress or your irregular cycle making you feel ill, but eventually you had to come to the absolutely insane idea that you may actually be pregnant with Connor’s baby.

You’d tried to put off taking a test because your mind refused to believe this could be happening. Not that you don’t want a kid, you’d love to have little versions of Connor and yourself running around. But you want kids much further in the future. And also, there’s the teeny tiny odd question of how the hell this has happened! You’re human. Connor is an android. For this exact reason, the two of you haven’t been bothering with protection with all the sex you’ve been having, as you’re both clean and your boyfriend is infertile- or so you thought.

You don’t even know how he’s going to react to this. Will he be happy or sad? And how is everyone else going to react? Yourself and Connor have only been dating for over a year, so it’s much too soon to be having children. You take in a deep breath, sighing as you move your hands down to your stomach.

“I don’t know how you got in there little Floobie, but here you are. God, I hope your Daddy is gonna be okay with this”.

You walk into the living room to see Connor seated on the couch trying to complete one of his puzzles, the stick containing the proof of your future feeling like a burning weight in your sweaty palm as you approach him.

“Connor? I- I uh- I have something I need to show you” You announce, breaking him from his deep concentration as he stares at the pieces in his hand.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? You look really pale and I can detect your temperature rising rapidly”.

You let out a short laugh, walking forward to rest your free hand on his arm as you take a seat beside him. “I’m fine Connor, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve just found out some big news”. He opens his mouth to question you, but your worried look has him stopping short. Instead of telling him, you decide to instead place the test in his hand so he can see it for himself.

As you move to do so, a million thoughts race through Connor’s mind. Are you sick? Are you leaving him? Are you finally gonna get a dog and you’re putting a collar in his hand? With trepidation, he opens his palm as your closed hand begins to open, his eyes flickering quickly as he tries to figure out what you’re about to give him. When the light weight of the stick falls into his hand, his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and he tilts his head slightly to the side. You hold your breath as he brings the test closer to his face, his face tilting (nearly touching his shoulder now) as he inspects it.

You wait for a reaction, a smile or a frown, anything. But he just continues to look at it. You begin to fear the worse when he finally looks up at you and-

“It’s not working”.

You copy his earlier movement as your own head now turns in confusion, looking at Connor's oddly very calm face.

“What-what do you mean? I just used it. I just used three of them actually to make sure it was right”.

“So you are ill then? Y/N, darling, you should have just come to me, you didn’t need to waste your money buying these things. I am quite advanced with this sort of health observation, thanks to Cyberlife, but you already know that. Which is why I don’t understand why you’d-”.

“Wait, hold on Connor, what do you think this actually is” You ask, incredulously.

“Um… A thermometer. As I said darling, it’s quite easy for me to simply look at you and take an accurate reading of your temperature, in fact I’ve noticed recently-”.

“Connor I’m pregnant”.

He stops for just a moment. Then…

“Oh yes, I already know. Like I was saying, I’ve noticed recently that your bodily readings have been different than usual these past few months and on more than one occasion, I have detected that you’ve been sick in the mornings and hid it from me. I was getting so worried that I just decided to do a full body scan while you were sleeping one night and that’s when I realised there was new life growing inside you”.

“Connor… I-I… You... You knew I was pregnant?! W- why didn’t you tell me?”.

“I thought you already knew? Because of your periods? When a woman discontinues having a monthly release of blood, is it clear to see that she’s pregnant with new life. That and you haven’t been buying any new sanitary products or telling me to go out on calorie hauls everytime you go through that specific time”.

You breathe a deep sigh, of both relief and shock. In fairness, you probably should have realised Connor would have been able to sense you were pregnant- he is the most advanced detective android there is. You guess that your disbelieving of the possibility of this happening also overlooked the fact that your boyfriend is a robot genius.

“If you already thought I was pregnant, did you not question why I hadn’t told you?”

He looks away sheepishly, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I thought this was something that women just deal with on their own, the male doesn’t really do much in most cases of animals. The female is the one who cares for the baby with her body, the male is just there to protect and keep them both safe. So I thought it was just a way for you to keep ‘the bun in the oven’ to make sure you’re looking after it okay”.

You blink. You blink again. Then you let out a small laugh and bury your face in your hands shaking your head. That has to be the weirdest thing to come out of your boyfriend's mouth, even after everything he’s said these past few months. When you look back up at Connor again, you see him looking at you, head titled again and you let out another laugh, leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

“Oh Connor… We’re not animals, even though we do act like them sometimes, especially rabbits,” You let out another small laugh, while Connor smiles nodding in agreement “, Couples bring their babies into the world together, supporting each other. Granted the woman does do pretty much all of the work, but the man doesn’t just ‘protect’ and keep them safe, though it is appreciated. They help keep the mother healthy, comfortable, relaxed, loved- like you will right? You do want this baby don’t you Connor?”

“Of course, this is what I’ve wanted since we first made love”.

“Wait… what?”.

“Well, ever since you told me that sex is primarliy to create new life, I have been questioning Cyberlife about installing a new function within me to make me fertile. Though I have been quite enjoying our love making, I still haven’t been able to get the thought out of my head that we haven’t been doing it properly. So thankfully, Cyberlife agreed, on the grounds that it will be a good step in the right direction of progressing human-android relations”.

“So when did you become fertile?”.

“About half a year ago, maybe more”.

“Jesus, Connor, we’ve been having so much sex, it’ll be a wonder if I’m not pregant with twins”.

“I know, I’m surprised it took that long for you to become pregnant. And, statistically speaking, twins are only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, and there are many contributing factors. Sex can contribute to some extent, but it in our case it seems to have helped massively. Just last night, I did a scan again and saw that there are in fact two life forms inside you- how did you know darling?”

“Only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, eh? Well, that’s- WAIT WHAT?!?”

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

“What the fuck?! Twins” Hank utters as he places his half eaten burger down on his arm rest.

To be honest, it probably wasn’t the best idea for you and Connor to tell him that you're having two children at this specific moment in time, eating the food that you had brought him for dinner to help ease this situation. The smarter thing to do would have been to tell him before, then give him the burger and drink from his favourite takeaway to calm him down. But as you sit there next to Connor with guilty smiles on your faces as you look at a horrified Hank who looks like he’s gonna be sick, you definitely know you should have told him sooner.

“Wait, wait, wait, how is this even possible?! You’re an android and Y/N’s human, how does that work?”

You begrudgingly reply “It’s a long story”.

Connor however has no shame and immediately launches into re-telling the story of how you two began having sex. You have no power to stop him as you know this story is getting told no matter what because he is Connor afterall, so you simply sit back and stare down at your wine glass in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Every once in a while, you’ll look up and see Hank growing progressively more green as your boyfriend retells how he first asked about sex and then anal, and then your many different sexual escapades including the one where he was in a meeting with Amanada, and then finally how you got pregant. Connor, still as innocent as ever, goes into great, unneeded detail not realising that this isn’t something he should really be telling his dad. Even Sumo looks sick, paws nearly over his ears as he lays at your feet.

Finally after some time to reflect on what has just been said to him, Hank, looking equivalent to a cucumber in colour and looking faint, mumbles “So you two rabbits have been doing it everywhere huh?”.

As Connor happily nods in response, you sit in shame, taking a much needed gulp of wine, then another as Hank takes a big sip of his own drink.

“We even did it on your desk.

Wine. Soda. Everywhere. Again.

*Sigh*

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A/N: I realise a year later that I wrote the reader to be drinking alcohol during this... while she's pregnant. Don't drink if you're pregnant fellas, my dumbass forgot that 😌

#dbh connor imagine #dbh connor x reader #DBH #detroit connor #detroit become human #detroit become human connor #detroit become human connor imagine #detroit become human connor x reader #writtenbyme #connor x reader #dbh hank #dbh imagine #dbh x reader #detroit become human hank #dbh connor

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toxictigertonic · 3 years

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I'm bored so here are some ideas I have about my DJSS and NJ gijinkas, and just them in general

DJ SubSup:

- I'm not sure whether I want to believe the orb is a helmet or a head, but it still exists with human DJ! I either like the idea that he takes off the helmet and it's kinda like smoke that forms into a head, or the glass heats up until is basically explodes into light and glass shards which then reform into a head. He doesn't like people watching him do it so he usually excuses himself if he wants to switch over

-He can change his appearance when he forms the human head, he usually switches around hairstyles and facial hair (because who has time to wait for your hair to grow out?). I have a doodle of him with very long dreads in a half up half down style

- Like a lot of people I believe the orb changes colors to show different emotions, but that color change takes place in his hair when he's got the human head. Most of the colors are pretty easy to guess, pink is embarrassed, red is angry, yellow is happy, simple. The odd ones are black for ill/out of it and white for startled. They don't shift a lot unless the emotions are really strong.

- Freckles. Very sparkly freckles that get brighter/sparkle more intensely when they're excited or embarrassed. The stars in his hair also sparkle more with these emotions, and you bet your ass J points this out to him and makes him even more flustered

- A weird one, but something I thought would be an interesting touch is that their tears float around their head instead of running down their face. They don't cry too often but it cheers them up when a certain dad of 5 k-pop sons tries to catch the floating tears with a tissue

- He's an alien

- His alien species is taller than humans on average. He uses his size changing abilities to be around 6'8" to 6'10" most of the time, but he's naturally 6'1". Not short by any means but he's short for his species and it makes him not feel not so great. He only trusts J to see him at his actual height

- Temp changing abilities too because why not? He runs colder on average but can heat up pretty substantially for a nice warm hug

- Dad bod, no more rock solid abs for Nova he has a tummy

- I whole heartedly believe the massive ego is a front to cover up his insecurities, J helps him work through a lot of these insecurities

- They adopted the Sayu team + Sayu herself, they were just like "How'd these kids get here? Welp they're my children now" *teaches them about astronomy*

Neon J:

- He is also covered in freckles, but his do not sparkle :( (They are still good though, all freckles are good in my books)

- I say it was probably an explosion that forced J to become a cyborg with the amount of full body damage he'd have taken. Instead of being converted into a cyborg, he now has massive scarring on his back due to being farther away from the explosion

- No more thin waist J he was in the navy and the mans a jock. Twink J is OUT Hunk J is IN

- Nova brought J out of his shell when it came to performing in front of people, so he will absolutely dance in public if he's excited about something

- If it's android head J he gets to keep his synthesizer because I love it when funky war vet dad sings

- Also if we're talking android head J the lights all around his body get brighter when hes embarrassed or excited, especially the ones on his cheeks, simply because mans gotta blush somehow. If he didn't, how would Nova tease him about it?

- A lot of energy, he has to have it if he wants to keep up with his kids

- Speaking of 1010, he's absolutely their dad 100%, and a great dad at that. He hugs them all in one big group after every concert and tells them how proud his is of them. Those are his boys and while hes a little strict sometimes, he would do anything for them

- He was very anxious when he invited Nova to function as their second parent, simply because he didn't know how either group would react. Nova was happy to be their second dad, and while it took the boys a little to warm up to the idea they have embraced dadNova into their lives (because I'm a sucker for happy families)

Uhhhh not sure if this even makes much sense or is well put together or hell, is even in character for both of them but my head hurts too much to care, please enjoy my dumb little ideas while I play more Fallout NV

#this ship makes me very happy #they deserve to be happy i wont take criticism on that either #just two parents with their multiple kids #J realized he was getting 5 more kids to be a dad to and almost lost his mind #nsr #no straight roads #neon j #djss #nsr neon j #nsr djss #no straight roads neon j #no straight roads djss #dj subatomic supernova #headcanons

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connorandersons-blog · 4 years

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Convin 27: Gavin teaches Connor how to ice skate

Winter Prompts

Pure fluffy cuteness!!!

Hope you enjoy!!

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Connor had never gone ice skating, never had the chance with the whole revolution. So now it was a year later and Gavin had insisted on it.

A year ago he would have laughed at your face if you even thought of telling him he'd consider Gavin a close friend. He'd probably deck you and then make sure you're ok mentally if you told him he would be absolutely and completely in love with Gavin too. Yet here he was, staring at the rink.

It wasn't like he was scared, but there were a lot of people, humans, and androids all skating around. Some we're good at it, even little kids were spinning around at dizzying speeds while others fumbled and slipped, falling down. At least he wouldn't be the only one skating for their first time.

"You'll be fine! Hey, don't worry so much, you'll fall at least once but that's only natural." Gavin bumps their shoulders as they laced up their skates. He hadn't known Gavin took skating lessons when younger, but ended up doing it just as a hobby. He still loved it and skated every year, having his own skates.

Connor shook his head, tying off the strings before leaning back up. "You know I don't like falling." He hated the feeling, he hated the rush of wind around him as the ground got closer and closer.

Gavin frowned and looked up at him, putting a hand on his knee. "It won't be like that. It's like if I just pushed you over right now. Sure your ass will hurt and you'll be a little cold but I promise it won't be that bad. I'll be right there too, I'll try to catch you or pull you up if you do fall." He thumb soothed circles through Connor's thick winter pants, and Connor took in a slow calming breath.

"Ok, thank you. I can do this, I'm the most advanced android in the world, this should be a piece of cake." He tried to stand and wobbled, but Gavin grabbed his arm with a chuckle.

"Yes you are. Walking will feel weird, I'll tell you that. Most of the time you take the guards off once stepping into the ice, but don't wanna lose em so that's why I said to leave them here."

"You don't have to explain everything." He did have the internet at his fingertips.

"If you're going to learn you're going to learn correctly, even the basics." Gavin carefully led them over, getting onto the ice first. "Now, it's going to feel slippery, but you have to trust yourself."

Trust himself, yeah, that was totally the easiest thing in the world. Not like his body had been taken over even after he deviated, so he could very easily trust himself.

He put one foot on the ice and whined when his foot easily slid even when he didn't want it to. "I-I don't know, Gavin. I'm not sure I can do this."

Gavin took his hands, easily stepping closer. "Con, I've got you. This is the hardest and scariest part. Do you trust me?"

He didn't even have to think of his answer, not anymore. "Of course I do."

"Then trust me with this. Once you start gliding you'll love it. Just gotta get past the hard parts." Gavin gently pulled him and Connor let his body be moved onto the ice. He wobbled and would have fallen right on his face if Gavin didn't have a hold of him. "There you go! Scariest part is done, proud of you."

Connor flushed blue and stared down at his feet. Well, he would have if Gavin didn't let go of one of his hands to tilt his chin up.

"Second rule, don't stare at your feet. It won't help and can actually make it worse." Gavin smirked, taking Connor's hand again and pushing to skate backward. He did it so effortlessly, but Connor felt like he'd fall into a split if he moved an inch while being pulled.

"You're too good at this. I bet you can do those spins and jumps," Connor glanced at the people quickly moving around the rink and the person in the middle doing perfect spins.

Gavin shrugged and kept pulling Connor, glancing back every now and then to make sure he wouldn't run into anyone. "Yeah, but I'd rather be doing this."

Connor went to duck his head but remembered the rule. He kept his eyes up and therefore on Gavin who was staring right back. "I'm glad we're doing this, even if I can't move my feet."

Gavin snorted and slowly slid to a stop. "Ok, I wanted to get you a little more comfortable, time for you to actually skate."

"No, no, no, I like this. Please don't let go," he gripped Gavin's hands, pulling himself closer.

"I won't let go, you've got this though." Gavin moved them so they wouldn't be near the edge in the way of the kids and adults clinging to the railing. "Make sure that you keep your knees slightly bent at all times when skating. If you lock your knees you'll fall. Lean on the inside of the skates and keep your legs shoulder-width apart for now."

Gavin kept hold of Connor but pushed and pulled him into the right position. He had his back straight, stomach in, and shoulders back. "Start by moving the right boot off to the side and use your toe area to push away whilst maintaining the majority of the weight in the left leg.

Your right leg should push out to the side, not the back. The left leg does not move direction, its job is to glide. Stand there and I'll show you, ok?" Gavin slowly let go of Connor, making sure he was steady before going a bit away. He easily pushed forward, exaggerating his movements. "See? Normally you hold your arms out to keep your balance at first, but I'll hold your hands I'd you want."

Connor nodded, reaching out and gripping Gavin's hands. "Yes, please. I can… I can do this." He pushed forward and promptly slipped, crashing into Gavin who just laughed. "Shut up," he sighed.

"It's fine! Come on, you can do this. Just be confident." Gavin pushed a little bit so Connor was standing back.

It took a while for Connor to get a hang of it, but once he did he was gliding along. Gavin skated beside him, still holding his hand. "See? Knew you'd be good at this." Gavin smiled, letting go to do a small spin.

Connor rolled his eyes and took his hand again when offered. He only fell on the ice twice, but it wasn't too bad. Standing up was a pain, though.

Gavin pulled him into slow spins, ignoring the people that skated past them. "Shit, watch out!" Gavin called out but a bit too late. Someone ran straight into Connor, pushing him forward and making both of them fall to the ice.

"I'm so sorry!" The person called out but Gavin waved them off. Connor tried to push up and get off of Gavin but his hands kept slipping on the ice.

Gavin huffed and laid still for a second. "Teenagers."

Connor hummed and finally found friction, managing to wobble to a standing position. "I'm sure they didn't mean anything by it. Need a hand?" He wasn't sure he was stable enough on the ice to actually help, but he'd at least offer.

Gavin shook his head and stood up with much more grace than Connor. "Yeah. Seems like it's clearing out, though." It was getting a bit later and the families had taken their little ones home.

Connor hummed and interlaced their fingers again, this time they just took their time gliding on the ice, their shoulders bumping.

Only a few couples were left, but neither Connor nor Gavin wanted to leave the ice yet, didn't want this moment to end.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Gavin said, eyes trained forward even though there really wasn't anyone to run into.

Connor glanced over at him, tilting his head. "Of course, anything."

"Would you come to Christmas with me? I normally just work that day, but my family insisted I come home and… I haven't seen them in a long time. Hank can come too, but I really want you there." They slid to a small stop and Connor tugged on his hand until they were facing each other.

He hadn't expected this, for humans, the holidays were special no matter what they celebrated. He knew it was common for children to bring home partners or those they considered family.

Connor was going to just spend the day with Hank, making sure he was ok. It was a hard holiday for him, understandably.

"You don't have to! My parents can be a lot, there's plenty of drama and my brother will probably bug you, but he's… he means well. We always end up having fun, and I, I just want you there with me. But you really don't have to come, I get it if you aren't ready or don't even care about the holidays. I, or you could be working, which I should have thou-" Gavin started to ramble but Connor cut him off.

"Gavin, I'd love to. I'm not sure Hank will be willing, but I'll ask. And you have a brother?" He had no idea, it wasn't in his file. Now that he thought about it, there was very little in his file, and absolutely nothing about his family or that they even existed.

"Oh, yeah. Um, you should probably know now… Elijah Kamski is my half-brother."

Connor was pretty sure his jaw was on the ground. The creators of androids, of Connor, was Gavin's brother. Huh. "Oh. That's, wow, that's a bit shocking."

Gavin chuckled and nodded, fiddling with Connor's hands. "Yeah, he doesn't talk about me either. You saw him, right? I don't know all the details but uh, he did mention you when I was invited."

"Yeah, he made me do the 'Kamski Test' which wasn't very fun." He still could feel the gun in his hand as he pointed it at Chloe, but thankfully couldn't pull the trigger.

"Yeah," Gavin winced, "sorry about that. He's a bit eccentric, always have been."

Connor nodded, that would make Christmas very interesting. "That's ok, is he bringing anyone?"

"Oh! Yeah, he's bringing Chloe. I guess you don't know but he kept the original Chloe and fell in love, she deviated and stayed with him."

"Aw, that's sweet! I'd be honored to meet her." He had thought she'd been destroyed, but it made sense that Kamski would have saved her.

Gavin nodded before a grin spread across his face. Connor squinted, knowing Gavin was up to something. What he didn't expect was to be spun before being pulled flushed to Gavin. "I… Connor, can I kiss you?"

His eyes widened as he processed what Gavin had said. Then he burst into joyful laughter, nodding his head. "Yes! Fuck yes, oh thank god."

Gavin beamed and cupped his cheek, leaning forward to gently kiss him. They broke about quickly but pressed their foreheads together. "Wow, I didn't think you'd say yes."

Connor shrugged, putting his hands around Gavin's neck. "I've kind of been madly in love with you for a bit. I know, I was surprised too. Can, can I still come to Christmas?"

"Yes! I love you too, I had no idea how to tell you. I didn't want to lose you as a friend, and I didn't want you to hate me. Can we date? If you want?"

Connor pressed forward, stealing another kiss. "I'd love to, this is actually happening?"

Gavin nodded, letting out a shaky sigh. "It is. Magic of the holidays or whatever. Not to be cheesy, but this is the best gift I've ever been given."

Connor snorted and shook his head fondly, but knew what he meant. "Yeah, God, this is amazing. Do you want to get hot chocolate or something? I'm sure you're freezing by now."

Gavin shrugged but started to guide them to the opening in the railing. "Sure, does this count as our first date?"

"I wouldn't mind that," he'd gladly take all the dates with Gavin he could get. "I love you."

"I love you too."

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ancient-bruises-ancient-moon · 4 years

Text

ok SO I got an anon I wasn’t gunna respond to but I'm enjoying a vegan chocolate banana cookie dough thc/cbd infused smoothie I invented so fuck it, let’s do this

this isn’t gunna be eloquent at all and I hope what im intending to say comes off correctly. may not, my brain is mush- but here we go!

so last night/technically this morning I reblogged a lot from this brilliant intersexism blog. (highly recommend giving a follow!) which led to...a bizarre ass anon this morning (I'll make another post linking to her blog so ya’ll can follow. she doesn’t need to deal w/ this post after everything else she deals w/ on here- unless u want to ofc!! hi ur cool! ANYWAY...)

I don’t remember the exact wording but it was something like “so ud rather have sex w intersex ppl over trans ppl??”

ummm. I literally never said shit about sex w/ intersex ppl?? like, ever.

was that supposed to be some huge “gotcha!!” ??

‘cause it didn’t work, at all.

1. my body is not a democracy

2. why r ya’ll obsessed w sex as validation

3. ur rly gunna ask me, essentially, if I'd rather be intimate w a deranged narcissistic reality denying manic OR a person with an intersex disorder...and u rly think I'm gunna be like OH NO I’D RATHER HAVE SEX W A MANIAC???

like...it’s rly not ab sex at all but did u RLY think that was gunna work in ur favor somehow?? and if u did, why did u think so? could it be bc u use intersex ppl as pawns for ur arguments but then don’t actually consider them ppl that can be in loving and intimate relationships? do u rly think this is activism? do you feel no shame?? you should be fucking embarrassed. this is so embarrassing for you.

something ya’ll don’t realize: I worked at a center that offered therapeutic services, std testing, & peer activity groups for lgbtiapqbdsmnlmnop folxxxx

I know how ya’ll speak to your therapists, to your peers when you think no one is listening, I watch ya’ll take credit for things u did NOTHING for, I've watched your violence against anyone who disagrees with you (INCLUDING about tv show characters...like, come on..) Adult trans women using fake IDs to try to get into youth events...and then get MAD AT ME when I have to kick A WHOLE ASS HALF DRESSED MAN GRINDING ON THE FLOOR out of an event for CHILDREN... this is beyond just Tumblr. you’re also like this irl. and often, somehow, even fucking worse.

I had far less intersex clients BUT ya know who wasn’t throwing tantrums, being violent, trying to take credit for things they didn’t do, starting fights, sneaking into events to get near minors?? my intersex clients! NOT ONCE. AND let’s be real...my intersex clients had good fucking reason to be furious and there were absolutely times that I would not have blamed them in the slightest for slapping tf out of someone...but they didn’t. not once. (ngl tho if they did I would have “not seen” what happened tbh bc I am a very responsible adult lmao- I can say this now bc I left the field so it matters not at all for my career)

ya know who would stay after hours, silently crying in rage bc of the shit trans clients said to them? my intersex clients (the big one was trans ppl telling them they’re lucky they get to ~~choose~~ their sex)

ya know who took the time to use open activist hour to build presentations to teach the LARGELY ENTIRELY INEPT staff (myself included, more below) about intersex issues so the people who come after them can get better help than they were able to receive?? I'll give you one guess.

I left academia and working in the field w/ ppl bc of my experiences at this place & the direction this tender gender trender shit is taking academia. Intersex people deserve so much fucking better than even having to HEAR this bullshit. I would only go back into the field to work with women & intersex individuals. Probably as a volunteer though, but I digress

I worked there when all these new words were coming out too like demisexual android identified diaper baby or whatever the fuck lmao and the trans clients would be FURIOUS when anyone didn’t know wtf it meant

and in contrast our intersex clients were constantly explaining shit to staff/interns/volunteers about their conditions that they should never have had to explain TO THE PROFESSIONALS WHO WERE THERE TO HELP THEM. and I can’t even lie and pretend I fucking knew much, I didn’t. I was hired without even knowing i’d be working w intersex clients- I just needed to show I knew some trans buzzwords. but I put in the time to learn, I read every book any client recommended, any article they emailed me- but honestly that STILL ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH!!!! I should NOT have been hired!!! MY BOSS should not have been hired!!! Actually, the only staff members that actually deserved their job was an gay intersex man. OT but he was so cool and smart and hilarious and like FUN ANGRY like idk how to explain that better lol he was good at getting u pumped up ab shit & good at getting ppl worked up enough to DO something. The only other staff member who actually cared and knew anything was a lesbian woman (of course) but she had recently had a baby and became so afraid for the welfare of her wife and daughter that she went along w trans shit that she KNEW was delusional and unhealthy bc we SAW these trans clients being violent on the Regular. we were legally obligated to call the cops several times. she wasn’t wrong to be afraid but I do think she should have tried to work elsewhere if she could no longer do her job with integrity but that’s a conversation for another day.

agh im just gunna end this post now bc I can rly go on and on but I'll leave the post with this question that I'd very much like an answer to:

how can we as activists be of better service to our intersex sisters? this issue is becoming more and more pressing and I can’t sit back and do nothing for them anymore. does anyone know of intersex only orgs that need volunteers or have suggestions?? PLS LET ME KNOW. I won’t go back to where I was but there’s GOTTA be SOMETHING I can do for the intersex community. let’s figure it out <3 this issue very seriously needs the attention of radical feminists tbh so...let’s do something.

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the-sheep · 4 years

Note

ID GO ABSOLUTELY BONKERS IF U TYPED OUT HIS ENTIRE HISTORY FBFBFBFB i would like 2 see it..........

alright right right

This ended up being A HUGE POST so all info is under the cut.

Unless you’re on mobile, in which case, enjoy scrolling.

It all starts on flight rising. Well, Heart starts on FR. It REALLY starts with my webcomic/animated series.

It wasn’t well drawn or animated at first, but it steadily got better. One of the plot holes, back in 8th grade, was “who created priscilla and Jake?”

It was mostly summed up to “Penny made all the bots its all simple” but i was a middle schooler and i needed a complicated (and edgy) story.

Thing is I had already made Fandragons of a good chunk of my ocs on flight rising.

I bred two dragons to get my main characters, so why not just use them?

Christy Suggested the name Cavet, and I liked it.

Yeah this is my first digital image of him as a human and he DOES NOT LOOK RIGHT

no necklace, no beard, orange eyes…

horrific.

So I made human designs for them both, but Chrysanthemum remains forgotten, not even canon to Mechanical Fury anymore.

Here’s old art of her and Cavet back before she got wiped out from existence.

the art is bad btu the Heart gimmick is there

Here’s him in his second image ever. The one that pretty much defined his design.He also quickly gained a husband

Anyway he quickly morphed into a villain several time more dangerous than the main villain

He’s responsible for the deaths of not ONE, not TWO, but THREE children.

Two his kids, one the younger sister of a character that one of the dead kids liked.

One of his dead kids got his own story, the other was literally a main character.

Chloride, (Charlie) in all his glory, lucky enough to get resurrected as an android but after finding out he’s not who he thinks he is, has to attempt to live a normal Human life… when his two best friends are paranormal investigators, his love interest having lost their arm and their only remaining sister to the main villain.

He originally found out he was an android by finding his own blueprints, hearing his Mom cry about it, and then cutting open his face (for his signature scar) and running off.

Running into Cavet’s husband, Nathair Liu. He stitches him up, know all about robotic n all that but he is.

also a secondary villain….

youtube

I hate the art in this video but its not my worst.

(Video was Vendy’s debut, too. tho Vendy was more Nate(logan/mind/princi/whatever)’s kid than Cavet’s)

Okay i’ve gotten off track.

Yeah at this point I was really loving Cavet, on FR, and wrote an entire long story between him and Skittles based on the events of Mechanical Fury.

This was where I got the idea for reincarnation.

I needed an explanation for why the same character was in two different universes, and it was perfect. In fact, it lead to an amazing way to end it.

But what is in control of all this? What does he see in the in between?

Well, Death was packaged with two other red herrings to keep people from thinking she was more important than them from the start, when in fact, she was. One of the plot points is that Cavet dies. He continues causing havoc, but nobody can figure out why or how. he doesn’t have a body.

Except he does. Death.

She was scary, but that was just her, she was a literal robot grim reaper. Nobody suspected she was spreading a virus to make robots susceptible to Augap’s control everywhere she went. Not even her. Cav liked hanging out in the AI scape, AKA the robot afterlife or virtual heaven.

What a fun way to make a real grim reaper.

I never really kept track of the transition from “cute robot char” to “cute real god char”

and i guess it never happened. Heart still thinks of her as she was, as cute little Litty. Except when she’s not. He gave form to the literal concept of DEATH. And became her friend. She still calls him Papa, sometimes.

In any case, Cavet’s doodles started being more and more revolving around his angst with the reincarnation.

in fact, i had a few character in the same boat as him, as I had made a couple dragons into MF characters as well.

I called them The Artifacts. It didn’t seem rounded out with only four, so I added a 5th. To give me more leeway in case I make a character i like enough to bring with them.

and turns out. I did.

I was sad enough about Cavet losing the love of his life, betraying him, creating a rift between them with his descent into obsession.

So he came with them.

They’re inseparable.

after a few lives of getting revenge on him for killing his sons and some adult humans and a BUNCH of robots, (not even counting his crimes in the vampire life he committed because he thought he lost Liu forever) Soul revealed to him something about Heart’s 6th life, which Mind doesn’t remember.

But he was there.

Long story short, he was Captain Shuggazoom. Yeah 10 lives of stuff he forgot before he started remembering his past lives. Messed Heart up.

ANYWAY BACK TO DEVELOPMENT!

I went around, making original characters to fill in Heart’s lives. I put him in a LOT of stories, but a notable one is My Old Ask Blog, @ask-musical-monsters

In which Heart is our lovable Tweedle, Bean.

He’s the bird. (this is also the blog where Willow was made!) (also a character i referenced when putting antauri on the baldi blog)

I still hadn’t abandoned MF so Bean has a lot of influence from Cavet.

I REALLY liked bean. It occured to me here-ish that Heart isn’t constrained by being my oc. He can be whoever he wants and nobody will care.

So of course I immediately declare him purple guy. No drawings of him, but I know I said he was purple guy at some point. Also at this point in time I started organizing the lives by number order, and making a simple arc for Heart and the others to follow.

1000 lives.

I made a brief description of heart’s 1st life, but made it purposefully very superfluous so i can change it whenever i want. All i know is he had albinism, and a desire to live forever.

That summer I got an amazing idea. I would take advantage of the Baldi’s basics trend with a ASK BLOG.

It was a mathematically calculated success. I did as many things as possible to generate more audience. MAIN thing being posting as often as possible, and being REALLY funny.

But knew I wasn’t going to like adding to the ask blog if i didn’t like the main character

I already knew he was going to be Baldi, but I wasn’t sure exactly how to characterize him either.

Turns out making him heart solved both of those problems. He’s always been Heart.

And Princi has ALWAYS been mind.

Even if they don’t always show their artifacts, they always were the same people as all these other things ive made. They have a DEEP connection to both each other and me.

At some point, I re-re-discovered SRMTHFG. The first few seconds I saw SK I knew he was Heart. It was so perfect it scared me.

HE EVEN DOES THE POSE!!!!! RED EYES!!!! AAAH!!!

I got an idea for a storyline based on formless and regret and monkeys… so.. uh

Anyway that kinda brings us to today, where the events of the blog have happened based on Heart things, and i can play around with Heart as much as I want.

And Willie’s next life? Well, 23 is my favorite number. It’ll be cool, but I’m not sure how. All I know is 23 wears a striped shirt, and is a vamp again.

In summary, Heart is the most important character I’ve ever made, and I will never come close to anybody as wonderful and as complicated as him. He’s the greatest formless, the best villains, the heroes, and one character i want to hold out for finding irl.

I love them even in scribbles i find on bus seats, in fanart of him, love her in songs i hear, in flowers i see in the wild.

Whoever they end up being, it’s safe to say I’ve fallen in love with Heart.

If you want me to describe his in universe story, I’ll need a seperate post.

Other Heart Resources:

The Spreadsheet

The Playlist

#heart id tag #long post #baldis basics #my singing monsters #mechanical fury #fnaf #the mind electric #srmthfg #hfytus #IM SORRY IF THIS ENDS UP IN THE SRMTHFG TAG SHOWOFF

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selfships-in-spanish · 5 years

Note

UH YES HI HELLO CAN I GET ALL THREE ROBO BOYS AND ONA GETTING IT ON BC CONNOR, 60, AND RICHARD ?? WITH ONA ? FUCK YES, BRING ON ALL THE ROBO DICKS - filth anon 🍆

JFORGHFASD FILTH ANON!! I MISSED YOU AROUND HERE MY FELLOW SINNER. WELCOME BACK MY FRIEND!!!! But jesus fucking Christ, Ona is about to get thoroughly fucked by three very horny robots. RIP her pussy.

Also MILLION APOLOGIES for taking this long but the horny braincell didn’t want to cooperate. AT LAST! IT IS HERE! :D also a bazillion thanks to @tinmiss1939 for being such a sweetheart and helping me out when english also didn’t want to cooperate. I love you girl ❤️

But this is filth. Pure, unadulterated smut for your reading eyes :D enjoy!

Whoever had the idea of making a field day for the police station as a fundraising with activities and such, was both a genius and a sadist. Especially in summer.

It was hot, you could hear the bugs chirping and people seeking the shadow of trees and tents if they were not engaging in any activity, cool drinks in hand. The water-gun fight was a godsend, helping those who were battling to cool down under the unforgiving sun.

But Connor thought it was absolute torture to be involved in the water-gun fight. Not for the fight per se, he actually loved spraying water directly into Detective Reed’s face, but because he had to fight against Detective Boix.

Detective Boix who is a complete drenched mess.

She’s laughing, ducking behind a barrel while another officer tries to soak her even more. Connor cannot remember the name, and right now he couldn’t care less. All his processing power is currently occupied with preconstructions about sneaking behind her, aim with an unmatched precision, soak that patch that is resisting so bravely, making her turn around so he can add even more water to her front and–

“If you continue with that train of thought, you’re going to self-combust.” Richard, the RK900 that was found, awakened and deployed on the DPD, spoke behind him. He was close too, and judging by his red LED, he wasn’t fairing better.

“The same could apply to you.”

“I still have more processing power.”

“All that mighty power goes south when dear Detective Boix is near.” another voice identical to Connor spoke on their left side. This was the RK800-60, the version generated to confront Connor at cyberlife tower. He liked going by the name of Killian, trying to distance himself from his double and his upgraded model. It gave him a sense of self.

Richard looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a glare that clearly indicated “that is utter bullshit and you’re not immune either”. He would never admit to his bratty predecessor that he, indeed, had certain malfunctions when the detective was near. He was designed to be superior than them, faster, stronger, more resilient…

Killian and Richard heard Connor produce some sort of noise, a mix between a whimper and grinding metal. They looked at him, a little bit concerned, and then at Connor’s hands gripping tightly the gun. If he added a little bit more pressure, he would break it. His eyes were glued ahead, watching Ona squealing and then laughing again when Tina aimed right at her butt.

Ona was wearing shorts that hugged her… assets rather nicely. Her legs were on display, honey skin glistening with water. If the three RK prototypes focused on the freckles and cute moles sprayed on them like constellations, nobody could blame them for that.

The sound of footsteps alerted them, but they were more focused at the view in front of them. Ona ducked another water spray and aimed her water gun, hitting Tina right on her stomach. The droplets moved down her skin, their eyes following the paths and even preconstructing where would they end up. The RKs knew the footsteps belonged to a male, judging by the way the person moved, and as their processors detected, they belonged to a coworker. A young male.

Without looking away, the three androids raised their water guns and with deadly accuracy, sprayed the poor soul who thought they could sneak on them. They heard a yell and colourful curses, their victim stomping away.

“Fuck you, you plastic pricks!” Gavin shook the water off his face, blinking rapidly as Richard’s jet hit him right in his eyes. Connor hit his torso, while Killian soaked the front of his jeans, leaving Gavin to feel very uncomfortable every time he took a step.

“That’s what you get for sneaking behind three state of the art androids, you fool.” Hank laughed while making his addition to the soaked mess that was Gavin. He aimed to his shoes, knowing they would do squeaky noises until they dried. He walked over the three androids, chuckling to himself. “I know better than to try to soak you three, but I must tell you that you look creepy as fuck right now. I suggest moving your asses and join the battle and stop ogling our darling detective over there.”

Connor gasped, slightly offended. “I am not ogling!” At least he had the decency to slightly blush.

“We are merely assuring Detective Boix is alright, should she need reinforcements.” Richard knew Hank was staring at him with his bushy brow raised and giving him the “oh really?” face. He had to try.

“Oh yeah? Then why not assist her now? She clearly needs help.” Hank nodded in Ona’s direction.

Ona ran away from the combined power of Chris and Tina, laughing and blindly shooting jets of water. Somehow, Chris managed to get a Super-Soaker model with way more water capacity; he could drench you in seconds.

“I guess I’ll have to be her knight in shi–” Killian took a few steps forward until Connor shoved past him, Richard sprinting behind him. He cursed and ran after them two, not wanting to be the last to arrive.

Hank looked at the three of them, crossing his arms and chuckling. “State of the art my ass.” He went back to the forgiving shade of a tree where Fowler and her wife and kids were chatting with Ben, who was being victim of the kid’s water guns. Hank saved him and sprayed them lightly, making them squeal.

Meanwhile, Ona managed to escape from Chris and Tina and took this opportunity to go refill her gun and take a breather. It had been a long time since the entire precinct had a good time. With the whole android revolution mess, the changes that came after and everything… it had been chaos, stressful. Everyone was on edge, everyone was confused and trying their best, so this was truly an opportunity to wind down and forget about the stress for a while.

She entered the visitors locker room behind the courtyard where they were having their fight.

Detroit’s high-school lended their facilities, the trackfield and locker rooms too, to the DPD’s fundraiser. Even the kids helped with some decorations and they proudly showed the artwork, making sure no jets of water hit the decorative paper garlands and banners. Richard would make sure the murals survived, he still didn’t know how to react with the fact that some kids decided to draw him, but he would protect it.

Ona hoped nobody was there; she just needed a little bit of quiet. She sighed blissfully, smiling as she felt the cool air caress her wet skin, and walked to one of the multiple sinks while opening the water-guns’s refill chamber. The sound of water splashing inside the empty plastic filled the locker room, the sounds of children giggling and screaming muffled and in the distance. She looked at herself in the mirror, letting out a soft laugh at her appearance. Her t-shirt was completely drenched and her white curls were glued to her forehead and face, some droplets falling down. She thanked whatever deity that was there that she decided to wear a bikini, knowing Chris and Tina had a massive competitive streak and would absolutely target Ona.

She did not hear the door of the visitors locker room opening and closing, too busy thinking about strategies to fight back against Chris and Tina. Once the water-gun was filled to the brim, Ona closed it and left it on top of the sink, stretching her arms and back like a cat, even letting out a sigh when some parts popped into place. She was suddenly hit by an ice-cold water jet on the last dry spot on her back.

Ona let out a loud shriek, jumping and bumping her hip on the sink. Colourful curses followed while she went for her water-gun, turning around to see Connor, Killian and Richard standing right there with Connor’s water-gun raised. He had the decency to look a little bit guilty about it. Ona left the gun back on the sink.

“Me cago en la leche, you scared me!” She had her hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating wildly while the other one cradled her bruised hip.

“Sorry Detective.” Connor lowered his arm and kicked at an imaginary stone. Ona marvelled at the completely human reactions he had sometimes.

“You are not sorry at all, Connor.” Killian crossed his arms, smugly smiling at Connot for being scolded.

Ona sighed, ignoring Killian and Connor’s guilty face for a second and noticing Richard way more silent than he already was.

“Everything okay there, Richard?”

He stood into attention, nodding, but all he could process was ‘wet shirt, bikini top, wet skin, freckles, wet translucent shirt…’.

“Yes Detective Boix, everything is functioning at its optimal—“

“He’s about to fry his CPU.” Killian stopped Richard mid sentence, trying to stifle a laugh at Richard’s murderous expression thrown at him.

“What?” Ona gasped, stopping whatever action Richard may have done. She ran to his side, carefully grasping his uniform jacket. “Oh my God Richard, did something happen? Did water get in someway? Do we need to take you to a Cyberlife technician? If it’s this bad we need to take you to one.” Ona went on and on, alarmed at the led spinning violently red.

The three androids internally cooed at her, her distress making them feel appreciated. Richard tried to say something but all his processing power was focused on to not accidentally overheat and the wet white t-shirt that clung to her snugly, not leaving anything to the imagination. Now that she was closer, he could see her glistening skin, feel the warmth of her body, and he honestly was only a good little android trying so hard to be a good little android.

Killian wasn’t a good little boy scout like Connor or Richard. He was a handsome devil and he knew it. He approached them and stood right behind Ona. Grinning, he let his lips brush her ear as he spoke.

“This is solely because Mr. ‘Faster, Stronger and more Resilient’ is having his processing power go south.”

Killian made Ona jump and gasp as he tugged her t-shirt back, tightening and gluing itself on her body. Her bikini top pattern became more apparent and Richard let out a soft frustrated sound, raising his hands but not daring to touch yet. Killian chuckled, sending pleasant shivers down Ona’s spine.

“You have been a bad girl, Detective,” Killian sneaked a hand around her body, exploring her belly and toying with the hem of her shorts. “A bad, bad girl, teasing us three with such indecorous clothing.” Killian knew it was a very cheesy line, but Ona’s sharp intake of air made him grin, knowing she was getting on with the program.

On the corner of his eye, Killian saw Connor silently move, walking to the visitors locker room entrance and locking the front door. The click of the lock felt as if a rubber band snapped. Richard dropped the plastic gun to the floor and grasped her face in his big hands, pulling her to his lips. Ona’s little moans were engulfed by Richard, her hands desperately holding onto him on his passionate onslaught.

Richard knew humans needed to breathe and Ona was not an exception. He let go of her lips, feeling her pants on his wet ones. Killian wasted no time, he let go of her to turn her head to him, crashing his lips into hers hard. He was demanding, hungry, needy, desperate, and Ona couldn’t help but be consumed by the pure lust he emanated.

Her moans fueled him further, his hands touching and grabbing all the flesh he could. Ona felt Richard go to his knees, his warmth disappearing momentarily. He unfastened her trousers and pulled them down, looking up in time to see Killian give her a moment to breathe. She looked down and whimpered, her blown pupils swallowing her green irises. Richard was a sight to behold, all disheveled and visibly affected, opposite to his usual composed and perfect self.

Connor sat down on the bench close to them, enjoying the show in front of him, for now. Killian was always impatient, wanting to go quick and dirty, while Richard wanted to take all the time in the world to make sure Ona wouldn’t be able to even lift a finger. He was patient, alright, but her heaving chest and arched back was bewitching him.

Maybe he accidentally projected some of that eagerness to join in the fun, because Killian looked right at him while leaving a sloppy trail of kisses on her neck, perfect teeth nipping the soft skin. Connor frowned, not entirely happy with that.

“Don’t leave marks, Killian. At least not on visible places.” Killian groaned, upset that Connor discovered his intentions. He loved to mark her up and let everyone know she was his, to see her flesh react to his actions. It was such a treat to hear her sweet moans.

“Party pooper…” Ona could feel Killian’s whispered words on her neck, his tongue following after.

Richard busied himself with her thighs, kissing the droplets away and following the pattern of freckles on her skin. He took one of her legs and lifted it gently, placing it down on his shoulder. He left a trail of more kisses and soft brushing of lips, raising goosebumps on its wake. Richard’s hands traveled up until he found the strings of the bikini bottoms, toying with them. He decided to leave them on, for now.

Ona’s leg trembled, followed by a whimper, and Richard decided it was time to do what every single biocomponent was begging him to. Slowly he traced a finger on the bikini hem, travelling up and down until he hooked it and pulled the fabric to the side, just enough for him to see what he was looking for.

She was a soaked mess, her juices dripping out of her. Richard licked his lips in anticipation.

A soft mewl tore itself out of Ona’s mouth, her hands going immediately to Richard’s head and gripping his hair tightly, the moment Richard’s tongue shyly lapped her up. He gave kitten licks, enjoying her squirming and trembling thighs, and pleasedly sighed when he buried his face between her legs. He loved to be surrounded by her warmth, her scent, her taste… and to pull the most lovely sounds from her lips. Richard decided he could be bolder, lick a stripe up and busy himself with her clit that was begging him for attention. The response was immediate. Ona moaned loudly, a curse following after as the hands tightened their hold and pressed him even closer to her.

Connor loved watching Ona get eaten out by Richard. He was meticulous, he always gave everything to it and left Ona an absolute mess. But her fucked out expression was a treat. He could feel himself constricted in his clothes, his biocomponents begging for fresh, cold air. He could wait. Okay, scratch that, he couldn’t, her moan made that patience fly out the window.

The sound of Connor’s belt buckle being undone made Ona look to the side, letting out a soft mewl when she saw Connor touching himself while focusing all his attention on her. It felt exhilarating, to have these three gorgeous, brilliant men (who happened to be the most advanced prototype androids ever made) having their way with her and enjoying every damn second of it. Killian didn’t like how her attention was on Connor, and he made sure she knew by biting her exposed neck. Connor’s growl made Ona wetter, which in turn made Richard let out a pleased groan at the feel of her juices coating his mouth and chin.

“I said no visible marks, Killian.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t deny how much it turns you on to see everyone look at you green with envy.”

“I don’t like to cause distress to the Detective.” Connor stopped his hand, a cutting edge on his words.

Richard had enough of his predecessors’ bickering. With regret, he tore himself apart from her sopping wet cunt and smoothly stood up. He could hear Ona mutter a breathy curse at the sight of his glistening mouth, his tongue unconsciously swiping over his lips. Killian knew he got himself in trouble judging by the angry frown the RK900 unit sported. Richard shoved him away, making him release the detective’s body so he could sit her next to Connor. Reaching behind him, he took out his issued handcuffs.

“You are being a brat,” Richard grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him to the bench behind them. “On the floor. Now.” One would be wise to not question Richard, even less when he was horny.

Killian thought about spitting a retort, but Richard’s angry scowl made him rethink his life choices. He obeyed, sitting down.

“Hands behind your back.” Killian put them and pitifully whined when Richard blocked his perfect view of Connor making Ona sit on his lap after getting rid of Ona’s shorts. He had the beautiful sight of her ass in front of him, full and plump.

Connor knew how much he liked it, so after Richard finished cuffing him to the iron bench leg, Connor grabbed a handful and squeezed, making her whimper. Killian groaned, really wanting to do that himself.

“Don’t you dare break them.” Richard warned him as he went next to Ona and Connor.

Connor busied himself with peppering her neck with soft kisses as he played with her ass, grabbing her with both hands so he could grind his cock up at the same time he pushed her down. Ona wrapped her arms around his neck and began moving on her own, pressing down desperately, needing more. But Connor wasn’t going to move along soon, loving the feel of her bikini bottom’s fabric on his cock, so she had to take matters into her hands. Literally. With an annoyed grunt, Ona unglued herself from Connor and grabbed his cock, positioning it right where she wanted it. With her other hand she pushed aside the slippery fabric of her bikini and sank herself down. Connor moaned out loud, his cock twitching at the burning sensation engulfing him.

The three androids loved when Ona rode them. She took what she wanted, riding them with wild abandon. And right now Connor let himself be used. She had been played with by them, teased, edged, and now she really, really needed to have her brains fucked out. Connor helped her when he was able to gather his wits, thrusting up at the same time she went down. That made her moan out loud, a breathy “fuck yes” whispered out right after.

The sight was maddening for Killian. He had the most perfect view right in front of him, he could see the jiggle of her ass as Connor pounded into her, Connor’s cock disappear in that wonderful tight heat… he felt himself throb inside his trousers, probably staining the front of his dark jeans. Ona let Connor take the pace now, falling to his chest and taking what he had to offer. She turned her head, hair plastered on her forehead, to Richard. Her coy smile invited him to join them both. And he couldn’t refuse, not when that mouth was so tempting and open, letting the three of them know how much she was enjoying it.

Richard unbuckled his belt and lowered his trousers enough to free his aching cock. Ona was both surprised and pleased that Richard decided to forgo underwear today. Richard stood astride the bench, feeling Ona’s warm breath on the exposed tip. She let her tongue playfully lick the tip, using the rocking motion of Connor’s hips to let her tongue taste more of him.

Connor decided to slow down a bit, to grab her hips and pull her down so he could slowly grind up to her. Ona moaned softly, closing her eyes at the feel of Connor hitting all the right places. The feel of her plush lips kissing and and brushing along Richard’s cock made him mutter a curse, biting his lips and using all his willpower to not thrust into her mouth. Ona liked to tease, the three of them knew it all too well, and now it was Richard’s time to suffer it. She slowly wrapped her lips around the tip, applying the lightest of suctions, while her tongue shyly curled around it. Connor kept moving, watching enraptured as Ona took more of Richard’s cock inside her mouth. Richard was made to be bigger, more intimidating, and their designers made sure every part of him matched. So it was always a wonder how Ona managed to take him all in.

Killian’s fingers twitched, itching to just break the handcuffs and join them. He would show them. He would teach them how to thoroughly debauch her and—

“Don’t you even think about it, RK800-60”. Richard’s growl made him freeze, like a deer in headlights.

Connor’s eyes had a dangerous glint too, watching Killian like a hawk. But while Richard was distracted, Connor took that opportunity to tear Ona away from Richard’s cock with a wet pop and take off her soaked t-shirt. He was hypnotized by the way her breasts bounced, and he needed to see them without any clothing in the way. Connor pushed aside the bikini top, and he cursed when he saw the perky nipples begging him for attention. But what made him lose it was the visible tan line. It fascinated the three androids, but it was Connor’s weakness.

A hand on Ona’s back of the head reminded her of the aching need in front of her, and while Connor was still distracted, she inched closer to take Richard back inside her mouth. She tore away one of her hands holding her in place to grab whatever was closest to her hand and urge Richard to take what he wanted. She could take it, and right now? She needed it.

Richard could never deny her anything, and he began moving his hips to a comfortable rhythm until her hand tugged at him again. Connor regained his senses and started moving again, bouncing her on his lap while his hands squeezed her breasts. But his hands weren’t enough, he needed more, so he bent until his lips brushed her skin, kissing and nipping the tan line until his mouth engulfed a nipple. Ona moaned around Richard’s cock, and Connor could feel her walls tightening on his. By the mess Ona was making between her legs, Connor knew she was close, and judging by the way Richard’s hips stuttered on his perfect rhythm, he needed more than her mouth. Connor sneaked a hand between them, his thumb rubbing her slippery clit. The reaction was immediate.

Ona arched her back, making Richard’s cock slip out of her mouth. She moaned without a care, rocking her hips. Connor kept playing with her nipples and found himself with a mouth full of it, making him groan pleasedly, when Ona wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him closer, lost in the onslaught of pleasure Connor’s thumb was making her feel. Thank God he didn’t need to breathe.

Connor kept snapping his hips up, but he was losing his perfect rhythm as he felt his own orgasm approaching. It felt as if every single biocomponent was on fire, burning with electricity that pooled down his groin. Connor chased that euphoric sensation, the slapping of skin against skin echoing inside the locker room and only arousing him more. Ona kept moaning his name as she felt herself be close, bouncing on his lap. Connor knew by the way Ona said his name, breathless and as if she was devoting herself to him, that he could not stop now.

Ona cried out one last time, her nails digging into Connor’s skin as she went still, feeling herself dissolve into a pleasured puddle. Connor followed her, letting go of her nipple and groaning into her feverish skin, feeling her squeeze his cock and milking him dry as he buried himself deep inside her, moaning a mixture of curse words and her name. Their panting felt loud in the now quiet locker room. Connor searched for her lips, whispering a soft “I love you” just before he kissed her reply away, a content and sated feeling washing over him at her “I love you too”.

Killian softly cursed at the mess that trickled down her thighs, the sight right in front of him, as Richard helped her get up after letting her bask in the afterglow on Connor’s arms. Still dazed, Ona let herself be guided by Richard’s hands, using him as support as her legs were threatening to give out. Richard softly kissed her lips, so sweetly at first, just a chaste press where he enjoyed the velvety feel of her lips on his. He kept kissing her slowly, taking her breath away by the passion behind every swipe of his tongue, every nibble. The hand that was on her back slowly made its way down, caressing the naked flesh until Richard squeezed her buttock, making her giggle and prompting her to lift her leg up. Richard’s hand caressed her flesh and held the leg in place while he kept kissing her.

“You are just plain cruel. Both of you.” Killian kept staring, hypnotised. He licked his lips, squeezing his bound fists in frustration. Richard made sure Killian could perfectly see the globs of cum trailing down Ona’s thigh, and like the saucy little minx she was, Ona spread her cheek further, knowing it would only drive Killian up the wall even more. He could see her pleased smirk. “So fucking cruel.”

“You deserve it for being a brat.” Connor spoke from the bench, already tidying himself up and tucking his now soft cock inside his pants. He got up and sat down on the bench Killian was cuffed to. “And for that, you only get to watch.”

“Oh, c’mon! You have to be kidding me!” in his frustration he tugged against Richard’s handcuffs again, which made Connor lean in and coldly warn him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If this is cruel for you, we haven’t even started then.”

Killian swallowed hard at Connor’s phrasing—he didn’t need to swallow at all he was an android for fuck’s sake! But Connor’s angry frown, the freezing cold stare he gave him… Richard was down right terrifying, but Connor knew how to exactly exploit your weaknesses, and right now Killian was his target. Connor distracted him long enough so Killian didn’t see Richard hauling Ona up and walking them to the nearest locker, resting her back on the cold metal. Her pleased groan as Richard filled her echoed around the locker room. Richard chose to undo a few buttons of his shirt earlier and Ona took that opportunity to sneak one of her hands under the layers of clothing Richard wore like armor.

Richard set a fast pace, already too pent up to take it slow. Killian could only watch and listen. The absolutely filthy but arousing squelching sounds of her filled up cunt only served to rile him up further. Ona opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on Killian’s one as she rested her head against Richard’s neck, panting against his exposed skin and sending pleasured shivers down his spine. Killian unconsciously mimicked her, opening slightly his mouth too to help his biocomponents cool down as he panted. After a perfectly spot on thrust from Richard, Ona’s eyes closed as she moaned loudly, biting his skin to quiet herself down. She kissed the abused flesh, apologising for being harsh, but it spurred Richard on, pressing her harder against the locker and thrusting into her with wild abandon. Ona’s legs squeezed his body, a dead give-away of how she was close again. The three androids always made sure to take advantage of Ona being multiorgasmic, and right now it wasn’t an exception. Richard kept pistoning in and out, whispering to her ear all the praises he could think of, and letting gravity help him in filling Ona up. Richard sneaked a hand between them, much like Connor did earlier, and rubbed his fingers against her clit in the same rhythm his hips were snapping into her.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck– I’m so close, so close!” Ona was feeling light-headed, drunk with pleasure. Her nails dug into his jacket hard enough for Richard’s sensors to feel the pressure, mewling softly into his skin, as her other hand gripped his short hair and tugged. That made Richard let out a pleasured grunt as he shoved harder his hips against hers.

Richard jerked his hips a few more times until he went completely still, pressing her body against the locker with his body. He let out a low groan, his big hands squeezing her heated flesh, as Ona came around him, crying out his name. She could feel Richard’s cock pulse inside her, filling her up to the brim and adding more to the mess left by Connor. It was sinfully perfect.

Ona sighed, content and sated. Richard carefully let her down, not missing his chance to run his hands up her legs and caress her ass, holding her close to him when her legs trembled. She couldn’t help but to snicker, resting her sweaty face on Richard’s chest, not believing they sneaked off to have some sort of a sex-marathon in the middle of work hours.

Honestly, it wasn’t the first time it happened. But it still made Ona feel a little bit guilty. Just a little bit.

“Are you alright?” Richard whispered in her ear, kissing her neck as he still held her in his arms.

“My legs feel like jello. And I’m sticky.” Ona didn’t want to look down. “And I need to clean up ASAP.”

Connor and Richard looked at each other, an idea already forming in their heads. They both glanced at Killian, who stared at them back. That wasn’t going to end well for Killian and he knew it. When those two played masterminds and he was the victim, it wasn’t fun. Usually.

“I think someone may be able to help you with the cleaning.” Connor stood up, dusting off his clothes.

“After all, you have been obedient. You deserve a reward.” Richard kept kissing her shoulders, following the trails of freckles.

“Let’s put that tongue to good use, shall we?”

Richard helped Ona walk over Killian, who was eagerly awaiting her with his mouth slightly open and eyes glued to Richard’s cum trickling down her thighs. Killian licked his lips, ready to blow her mind with his devilish tongue. He unconsciously tugged at the handcuffs.

He’d never say it out loud but he fucking loved this.

When Hank finds them later, going on their merry way to join the water-gun fight once again, he completely ignores the red mark on Ona’s neck, having an idea of why they disappeared for so long. Also, Richard forgot to button up the last button of his shirt.

Hank snorted, taking a sip of his beer. Kids. Let them have their fun.

#dbh #detroit become human #rk800 #rk900 #rk800-60 #ficlet #lemon

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avidfanficwriter · 5 years

Text

Two Drunken Fools (Chapter 1)

Characters: Tony Stark x OFC.

Warnings: So flippin many. Cursing, Alcoholism, depression, suicidal-ness(?) (I’m blanking the word), Smut, Pain, Will update as chapter arrive. Honestly, it’s messy. SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR AND ENDGAME

Ratings: M.

Summary: When Tony fought Thanos, he thought that was as bad as it could get. He'd walk away with a bruised ego, a stab wound and the kid in tote. It didn't end like that, it never does for Tony Stark. His world fell. The kid's gone, Pepper's gone and he's in dire need of help but refuse to let anyone know that. Instead he cures it the only way he knows how: booze and seclusion. Until he discovers he shares shocking similarities with someone else whose curing their own pain the same way.

Author’s Note: I HATE Absolutely freaking HATE chapters 1 and 2 but i give up. it’s pathetic, I know but I have a shit ton of other stuff written for this and the first two chaps aren’t getting any better. No matter how much I re-read and judge. I probably should get a beta, now that I think about it. Anyway, if you don’t like the first two i don't blame you, I hate them.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4.

"When I'm done half of humanity will still be alive."

Of all the things, Tony has heard or been told, he never considered Thanos' threat to be the one that would haunt him.

He never considered the possibility that he would lose either... but he had. The Avengers lost.

The day he lost has started to haunt him, he second guesses every choice he made and his mind is filled with Thanos... again. After New York, the battle, the wormhole and Nuke, he didn't think it could get worse. He saw a threat and he new they would need to protect the world. Thanos had only showed him a glimpse of the destruction he would bring. What he actually did was much worse. He took the world into his fist and squeezed until he felt victorious.

There's the sting in Tony's abdomen where Thanos impaled him that has phantom pains but it's Thanos' voice that he can't forget. Every day he wakes, it's the first thing he hears.

Thanos, the villain, the monster, the boogeyman who hides in children's closets had won. He followed through with the threat to rid the world of half human life but it's not the threat Tony wishes Thanos' would have acted on, he threatened to kill him, said in a gritty voice: "I hope they remember you." and Tony accepted it. He knew in that moment he was going to die. Only it never came. Thanos abandoned him, gathered the infinity stones and turned people to ash. Death would have been easier than living, buried six feet under with his flesh rotting and clothes turning to dirt would be easier than living with the knowledge that he let the world down. If he would have managed to stop Quill from reacting foolishly or stopped Strange from giving Thanos the stone, maybe they would've won. Maybe he would have succeeded but Thanos didn't allow him.

The gaping wound to his abdomen should've killed him, he deserved that. He should have went down with pain coursing through his body, blood seeping through his clothes and his body going cold but the world was to cruel to let Tony finally rest. He watched everyone around him disintegrate and he stayed. Tony remained in tact with his body bleeding and pain having yet to invade his mind. It should've killed him, plain and simple. Tony wanted to die, He longed for death but it never came. Everyone was gone, he was on a unknown planet and there was no telling who was still alive on earth. Did Pepper survive? Did Natasha? Was Steve---

Tony Stark deserved to die.

... but he hadn't.

Even as he was in a foreign spaceship suspended in the solar system with no food and water, an android as his only means of company and an infection infection running rampant throughout his body. He lived. Survival was harder to accept.

He lost Peter, a fifteen year old kid, he took under his arm and swore to protect. Tony looked the kid's aunt in her eyes and promised he'd be safe. He let her down.

The final nail in the coffin was, losing his heart, his everything, his reason for living. The light at the end of his tunnel was gone.

When Tony makes it to earth after days of being suspended in space, sickly and skeleton like with crusted lips and a heart beating far to slow, it's Steve who helps him from the ship. Wrapping his arm around his waist and silently forgetting everything from their turbulent past.

"I lost the kid." Tony forces out with a scratchy throat and dry eyes. He doesn't remember whose surrounding them or who else is there to greet him but he can remember the feeling of dread seeping off of the Captain.

Steve is quick to respond, not an ounce of hesitation as he meets Tony's eyes. "Tony, we lost." He corrects.

"Is... is Pep..." Steve nods before Tony has a chance to finish the question, his eyes solem and Tony's heart audible drops.

Tony lost the kid, held him as he turned to ash and blamed himself but there was still a tiny part of him that hoped Pepper was safe on earth, waiting for him to come back. Discovering she wasn't, created more pain than the blood infection and stab wound could have ever made. Pepper was taken from him, taken like everyone else. He wasn't there when death kidnapped Pepper, he didn't get to hold her in his arms, cradle her body close to his chest and promise her she would be okay. She died waiting for Tony, alone and scared.

Thanos took away half the population but he also managed to destroy Tony. He cursed Tony, forced him to live knowing he failed. He was right, the world would remember Tony Stark, the would remember him as the one who let humanity down. The man who had the opportunity to save everyone and wasn't able to do it. Everyone died because he couldn't do what needed to be done. Everyone died and he lived. Because Tony always lives and everyone he loves eventually leaves him.

Tony turns to drinking when the pain is too much to bare, he considers jumping off the roof but some sick twist of fate doesn't let him walk off the balcony. He drinks anything he can get his hands on because it helps just enough to get him through the day, the moment he's released from the hospital he goes home and downs a bottle of scotch. Then another and another. It cuts off his emotions, shuts down the parts of his brain that yearn for Pepper. Yet once the alcohol wears off, it all comes back with a vengeance. Memories fill his brain, loving kisses, the feeling of fingers running through his hair, smiles, her laugh or how she felt beneath him. No matter how much he drinks, the torment and emptiness of his heart can't be cured fully. She's always there, haunting him. Reminding him of how he failed and who he was before everything happened.

Iron Man is tucked away in a closet, piling with dust while FRIDAY is ordered to not let anyone in unless he okays it. Not a soul is allowed inside his home. He wants to be left alone, he can't handle the shame that fills people's eyes as he passes or the whispered conversations whenever his presence is around. Everyone knows, he failed. Everyone blames him.

Happy is the first to arrive at his door with a bag of cheeseburgers from fifteen different fast food restaurants, he knocks, jiggles the handles and calls out for his boss. Tony ignores him. Rhodey is the next, his hand slams against the solid door and he spares no expense at bribery. Vegas, he offers, like the old times. Tony ignores him. Natasha shows up, slamming her palm against the door much like Rhodey had only she demands to know what is going on and why no one has seen or heard from him in two months. She is treated the same response.

Tony has FRIDAY send over paperwork informing Natasha and Steve that they are now officially in control of whatever is left of The Avengers Compound, there is a short typed note from Tony simply saying: "You deserve it now."

Three months after the decision has been made official and is announced to whoever is left of the population, Steve makes an appearance at Tony's door saying something, he doesn't care enough to listen anymore. He's drank to much, spent too much time wallowing in self pity and still slightly angered at the great Captain America. He's forced to endure pain, carry it around with him while Steve Fucking Rogers walks around with his head held high and smile on his stupid face. Steve leaves after just five minutes, his hands buried in his pockets and his eyes aimed at the ground. Voicemails start after that, Happy, Natasha, Rhodey and Steve. They all eventually start to sound the same.

Happy: Boss, are you doing okay? What are you up to? Do you need me to get you anything? Boss, there is a meeting today, you should be there. Tony... You can't live like this. ...The world needs Iron Man. They need you, Tony. Pepper would want you to continue.

Natasha: Tony, I can't do this, I can't run a company. Tony, you need to come back, I need you to come back. Pepper would have wanted you at the helm.

Rhodey: Tony, you have to get out. You can't lock yourself up in your house and just give up. Pepper wouldn't want this. There is still so much left.

Steve: Tony, Look... I uh.. I get it, okay. I know what you're going through. You just have to think about who you're doing this for. Think about Pepper.

Voicemail after voicemail goes unanswered, he can't even bring himself to listen to them anymore. They all want something from him, run the company, show the world he's still here, the team still needs you but no one even noticed Tony needed something once upon a time too. He needed Pepper, needed friends and needed support. Tony needed them once and they left him, betrayed him and beat him down. Why would he believe them now? Why it would be any different now?

Tony can't remember when he did it but eventually he disconnects his cell phone, deletes his email account and puts Friday on lockdown (mostly because he knows she's been sending people updates on him). He eventually becomes a prisoner in his own home, cuts off from the world and the people. Every so often he checks the cameras in the compound out of boredom and possibly because he misses his 'friends.'

A few overheard conversations between Rhodey and Nat from his security feeds in the compound lead him to believe the teams Bird is on some Warrior mission serial killer style. Natasha is doing a better than he expected job at the helm of the compound, Steve tends to lurk in the shadows when it comes to the business but he resides in the compound and usually eats dinner alongside Nat. Rhodey is still actively involved in the military occasionally popping by to check up on things. Tony is stuck watching as they move on, continuing with life all while he doesn't get the privilege to. He has moments where his fingers dance across the keyboard or pad of phone, the phone numbers he knows by heart all scream out to be dialed. He could call Happy or Rhodey, even Banner (whatever he's up to now, he's the only one who hasn't been at the compound lately. He overheard Natasha say he was off being a doctor in some foreign country again) Tony also gets threatening close to starting a conference call with whoever is inside the conference room. It'd be so easy to press the call button and talk to someone, anyone. He never does. The first month of watching the feeds included witnessing Natasha come to terms that she was interacting with a build-a-bear, one who also happened to steal a few things from her office. Tony has a list of all the things, he's noticed the racoon taking and leaving money in place of. The second was trying to decipher where Steve spent his time outside of the compound but other than a bag of fast food he brought for Natasha, he's still at a loss. Months pass and the only interactions Tony's had with the team are one sided, video shots of their lives without him. Tony witnesses Natasha fire another round of employees they no longer deemed necessary with Steve standing by, he'd cross his arms over his chest and put on his signature stoic facial expression. Rhodey, meets a girl but it doesn't last long. Steve joins a group but has yet to say what for, he mockingly hopes it's one that helps him remove the stick from his ass.

It's late when he turns on the camera in Natasha's office, a glass of vodka and coke swirling in his hands as he props his feet up on the coffee table. He's running out of alcohol and desperately needs to order another six cases when he accidently clicks the icon for the security feeds, instead of changing it, watches it. The alcohol will still be there tomorrow and his bank account will still have money for it. Natasha is a blonde now with shorter hair, she has a stack of files in front of her. Steve is standing besides her, another firing spree Tony assumes. He watches her fire a young man and as he leaves he notices a sudden a shift in Natasha's behavior, she looks to Steve with weary lips: "Should we?" She asks in a gentle tone.

Steve nods, tightening his jaw. "He's not here. He's not coming back." They're talking about him, he knows it. The mood always shifts whenever he's brought up. "She's been doing a little of everything but... they're gone."

They're greeted by a young woman with curly brown hair in a white blouse, tight pencil skirt and six inch heels. He vaguely remembers her, she was an assistant to someone or on loan from SHIELD, he doesn't remember exactly. Their first meeting replays in his head, she asked for a signature holding a large stack of papers towards him, he thought she was a fan and it turned out to be an embarrassing encounter he hoped to forget. After he signed the document and let his mouth run with sarcastic comments about being asked to sign things because of his fame only to be told it was official business, he was redder than his iron man suit and she walked away smirking.

"You're being let go." Natasha informs her.

The brunette nods.

"It's temporary."

Another nod.

"You'll be paid for the first year of your absence."

Another nod.

"You were an asset to the company, if things change..." She means if things every become normal again. "I can guarantee you, you'll be brought back. A complete reinstatement."

Tony sets his glass onto the coffee table and for the first time in months, asks FRIDAY to turn on. "Who is that, FRIDAY?" He asks ignoring the greeting the A.I. gives him. The screen changes wiping away the security cameras and replacing it with her glowing picture and file. Her image takes residence on the right side of the screen and everything they have on her is displayed before him, employee records, position at the company, an entire database of information about her is before him. Wren Granger, he reads at the top of the page. Her name triggers the few memories he has of her, she worked for the Avengers, behind a desk with a smile that made you feel as though you'd known her for years. She'd attended a few parties at the Stark Tower but kept to herself. They had few interactions together but she never seemed the tiniest bit interested in him, her eyelashes didn't flutter when he came around nor find any excuse to touch him like most woman. She simply did her job and went home.

The first conversation they had that wasn't business related was at a party, years before everything happened. He was looking for Rhodey, ready to mock him over his insistent retelling of his adventures when he spotted yet another unfortunate soul being forced to listen to Rhodey's tales. Tony refills his drink and rushes to save the young lady.

"Rhodey, you're torturing the poor woman." Tony says swiftly joining them, resting his hand on his longtime friends shoulder.

Rhodey opens his mouth to respond, a wise crack at the tip of his tongue but the woman beside him beats him to it. "I beg to differ, Mr. Stark, it was just getting interesting."

"See, Tony..." Rhodey says a smile stretching across his face. "Somebody appreciates my stories."

"It's not all that fascinating," Tony quips. "He's been telling the same story for a week."

The brunette cocks her head and gives a dramatic gasp. "Is that so, Mr. Rhodes?" She asks with a smirk.

Once again, someone else who beats Rhodey before he has a chance to speak, it's Tony this time. "Don't feel to bad for him, he's just upset that the world only tolerates War Machine. Iron man is their preference but they settle for second best in time of need." She tries to fight her chuckle by covering her mouth with her hand but the sounds of laughter leak through causing Rhodey to scoff and walk away annoyed. He grabs his drink and shouts a quip about War Machine being better as he heads to the other side of room.

"Oh no." The woman chuckles as she watches Rhodey leave.

Tony leans against the counter alongside the brunette and lets his eyes trail along her body. She's traded her usual pencil skirt for a pair of tight black jeans and a flowery blouse. "Which of these lovely prospectors do you plan to mooch off of?" He asks with a sly smile and cock of an eyebrow.

"I suspect you've taken yourself out of the equation?" She asks without missing a beat.

Tony jerks his head towards her and lets out a surprised breath, "Yes... why was I in the equation?" He asks, a cheeky grin now plastered on his face.

"Not originally but I figure why close all doors, huh?" She asks with a smile as she meets his dark brown eyes. "Besides wouldn't you be the best to mooch off of considering you're the billionaire?" There's a small shrug of her shoulders as she relaxes against the wooden counter behind her.

"Wise decision." Tony remarks. "But I'm taken."

"That's true." She smiles. "I've heard Steve Rogers is nice."

Tony turns his nose up, "Capsicle?" He leans closer hovering his lips near her ear. "You'd have to devirginize him."

Full of shock, she turns to face him eyebrows furrowed with her lips press tightly together. Her dark green eyes fall back to the Captain whose engaged in a competitive game of pool alongside Sam. "Well, maybe not. It might get a bit awkward when I don't call him the day after."

Tony chuckles, nearly spilling the drink he's holding. "Tony Stark." he says offering her his free hand.

"I know, I work for you." She says with a smile, accepting his hand in a firm handshake. "Wren Granger."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Granger."

"You as well, Mr. Stark."

"Tony, please."

"Tony."

They keep each other company throughout the night, talking for hours about any little topic that sparks interest. Wren doesn't ask about his time as Iron Man or his life as a billionaire, she has simple questions or comments that only people who really want to know someone ask. It's easy to talk to one another, the conversations flows and doesn't feel stressed. It's comfortable, something Tony hasn't experienced in a long time. As the party dies down and the guests begin returning home, she glances at the watch on her left wrist and says that she should leave as she has an hour drive.

"An hour? You don't live in the city?"

"No, Not at all." Wren shakes her head almost insulted by the indication.

"Where do you live? I can get someone to drop you."

She nods, "I don't think you or I need that type of talk surrounding us." extending her hand to shake his. "Besides, I'm actually out of the city, rural area." Tony flinches at the comment and she notices his discomfort. "Not a country boy, i take it?"

"City boy, born and raised."

"Shame." She tsks him and stands. "It's nice break from the chaos that is the city. We get a lot less alien invasions." She winks at him with a smile. Tony chuckles quietly, at the remark. The noises that came with the city life, is what makes his home, a home. "If you ever manage to make it out there, in the quiet that is, you're more than welcome to stop by for a drink." She says straight faced. "Quiet can do you some good, it's a nice break to get away from all the noise and people."

The offer runs rampant in his mind as if it was offered just yesterday, he watches Wren leave Natasha's office, clutching a manilla folder to her chest. At the time, when she mentioned him coming out for the quiet, he thought nothing of. It was a friendly offer. Now, it felt like a calling. He can claim it's because he's severely lacking from human contact or slightly hungover and curing the hangover by drinking more and his mind isn't working at full capacity, or it's much simpler, he wants to talk to someone who isn't artificial and doesn't have a ulterior motive behind their words. He ponders the idea, when they met she treated him like he was a person maybe she'd do the same now. Everyone else tried to fix him until he longed to strangle them or share ways he can get over his loss. She could be different. There was no judgement when they first spoke.

He writes down her address, just in case and pins it to the fridge. Just in case, he thinks. If it really gets to him, he'll visit.

The ache in Wren's chest is raw, flesh eating and nausea inducing raw.

Everyone is gone.

The bad guy won.

The Avengers lost.

In an instant half the population was gone, wiped away from the world as if they never existed. Friends, family and lovers are gone. In a blink of an eye, they disappeared with a gust of wind.

The world feels empty now, those that were lucky enough to survive wish they hadn't. No one had time to prepare, they didn't have the luxury of a final goodbye or a warning that this would happen, it just did. Not many knew how to cope with the sudden loss, the trauma and pain resides deep in their chest unable to be cured. No funerals, no bodies and no final resting grounds. Ash in the wind. The world was at a standstill, abandoned cars rest in the middle of the roads, toys left untouched and groceries left to rot in the hot sun. Time seemed to stop.

Everyone hurts and most people blame the Avengers. The world's mightiest heroes were suppose to protect them, save the world but they let it down instead.

A year ago, Wren worked at the compound, her position wasn't of any importance but she had a way with words and could talk anyone into anything. When a business went awry, Wren Granger was your girl. A few sentences stringed together and the deal was back in place. The day it all happened, the day people disappeared without any explanation Captain America strode into the compound for the first time in years, defeat written on his face sporting a bearded jaw and glossy eyes while the building echoed with gasps. He ordered a meeting, standing before everyone in his uniform, the white star in the middle of his chest was absent, his fingers bloody and his suit looked darker. He explained what happened, omitting most of the classified details. Thanos had arrived to earth, threatened to cleanse the world and succeeded. He wiped out half of the population. The next order of business he asked, "Where is Tony Stark?" No one had the answer.

It would be a month before Tony would miraculously be found, "He was injured in a remote area." was the official cover story but there had to be more to it. There always was.

Tony was once again named the official boss, after it was discovered Pepper Potts had also been taken. Tony's health improved but he disappeared.

Days passed and Natasha Romanoff, a beautiful redhead with an attitude that could scare a 210 pound man and boy next door Steve Rogers were announced as the new boss. It should have gotten better but it didn't, employees were cut, costs were cut and within three months Wren was forced to move on. Natasha promised in a year, she'd be brought back if things returned to normal. If there was a normal to look forward too.

One year passed and the world was still broken and her job never came back, the Avengers weren't rallying up for round two and Iron Man let alone Tony Stark still hadn't shown up in public again. It was public knowledge that the loss of his fiancee Pepper had hit him hard. Rumors swirled that he was on the deep end of a depression, two pills away from ending it all. Wren didn't blame him for doing so, she'd lost people too. It's difficult to move on when you can't mourn any specific area except for a large wall that stretched for miles with names etched into it. It was personal, not an area you could make your own. It was covered in dead flowers, tattered teddy bears and letters from loved ones.

Wren started drinking six months after her job was gone when everything became to much to handle, little things would spark ripples of anger. Misplaced keys, grocery stores not being stocked, a rude comment she'd overhear and the neurons inside her brain would fire up creating a alter personality that attacked with anger. She drank to stop it all, the pain and the anger. It was easy. She fought it with a crooked smile and another bottle of alcohol.

He came next. Tony Stark, that is.

Wren was sitting at her dining table working on her latest jewelry design, it seemed her hobby as a teenager had paid off since being politely let go. A knack for making customized bracelets and necklaces had provided a substantial amount of pay. Requests came online shortly after for pieces engraved or in tribute to a lost loved one. The current piece beneath her small fingers with light blue nails was for a woman who lost her daughter, she asked for her birthdate, birthstone and a small pink heart on the necklace. The roar of an engine startled her, the necklace slipping between her fingers as she stood up. Her home was far enough away from civilization that no one would just be simply passing by, in order to get here, you had to look for it and in order to find it, you had to know where to look. The image of Tony Stark approaching the front door, with a case of Guinness in his left hand and his hair slightly tousled as if he just awoke with pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes felt like a dream. She pinches herself before moving from the window, this can't be real. Tony Stark is hiding? Gone? Scared? Missing? Lo-- the doorbell startles her again, it's followed by a short pair of knocks. Her lower lip comes between her teeth as she approaches the door, a shaky hand reaches for the lock, unlatching it and slowly twisting the door knob.

"Hey." He says as if this is a normal occurrence, like it's not unusual for him to be at her door in the middle of the afternoon. "I was in the neighborhood." He blatantly lies.

"Hi." Wren says in a whispered tone and her eyes grow even wider. "Uh...Come, come inside."

Tony sat across from her on the brown couch, his sunglasses discarded on the counter in the kitchen while his fingers danced across the glass bottle of beer. He's wearing an AC/DC t-shirt that is tightly stretched across his chest, it's the first time she's seen him in person in years, probably since anyone has seen him in person. His hair is longer, unkept and littered with greying strands and the whites of his eyes are bloodshot, his jaw is held hostage by months of unshaved facial hair. He looks broken. Nothing like the man who could throw out a sarcastic remark like he was a pitcher for a baseball team, the man whose eyes crinkled when he laughed or was rumored to obsessively work on new projects. Mr. Stark sits before her, unrecognizable. He's a different man but she's a different woman now to. Everyone is different since it happened.

"This place is nice." Tony remarks as his eyes explore the home. He's seen better, undoubtedly, he's made of money. He owns a better home than this. His homes are in the cities full of people and tall buildings, millions of dollars put into the home with remarkable electronics while Wren's is secluded from civilization, surrounded by trees and wildlife, the closest grocery store was nearly two hours away and her closet neighbors were miles away. She has a broken bathroom sink, a window that never completely locks and a floorboard in the kitchen between the counter and fridge that squeaks every time you step on it, she knows he's pulling the comment out of his ass. Tony's been locked up for so long, he's forgotten what nice truly means.

"It makes do." She says with a small shrug.

Tony nods, bringing the bottle to his lips. He still hasn't explained why he was here or where he's been and he doesn't know if he can even begin to. He hadn't left home in a year, hadn't interacted with people in over a year but here he was.

"Did you actually stop at a grocery store and pick this up?" Wren asks nudging the case of beer with her foot. It's sitting on the glass coffee table covering a assortment of magazines and papers, she has yet to pick up.

"Yes." He nods. "Didn't want to show up empty handed."

"I like scotch too." Wren mentions with a smile. "In case you're ever in the neighborhood again." For a brief second, a smile crosses his face. It almost passes for real but his eyes give him away. "How are you doing Tony?" She asks interrupting the silence that encapsulates them. It's a difficult question, one that managed to escape her mouth before she had a moment to think of the consequences. Tony could answer with another fake smile or gather what's left of the beer and decide he's being called away.

There's a pause in the conversation and a hitch of his breathe before he answers, "I'm fine." His reply surprises her, she didn't expect an answer. When he poses the same question to Wren her answer is far from polite.

Her intent was to lie as he did but what comes out is not a fib, "I"m terrible." Wren mutters. "Fuckin terrible." She glances around the living room, shame written across her face. "I'm drunk, don't mind me."

"It doesn't help, does it?" Tony asks after another round of silence.

"No... Not really."

"No..." He repeats.

"You live here alone?" He asks even though FRIDAY already told him that answer.

She nods. "Me and my shadow."

"Must get lonely."

"I make do." She shrugs her shoulders. "The quiet--"

"--can do you some good."

"Is that what you needed?" Wren asks reaching out to grab another bottle of beer, one for her and one for Tony. It's a question in place of the one she really wants to ask, 'what are you doing here?' is on the tip of her tongue but she refuse to give it a voice. "Quiet?"

Tony opens the bottle, tossing the lid onto the table and relaxing his posture on the couch once again. He kicks a leg up on the coffee table, slides his arm across the back of the couch and stares at Wren whose legs are dangling off the arm of the loveseat. "I don't know anymore." He whispers, dropping his head back. "I think... I just needed somebody..." For the first time in years, Tony lets the truth out. He's got tears welting at the corners of his eyes, a knot forming in his throat and his suave personality he's had on display for his entire life is crumbling before a woman he barely knows. "who didn't know me... before." He lets out with a deep breathe. Wren simply nods and takes another long sip of her beer.

Tony leaves around midnight, alcohol on his breathe and his heart feeling a little less heavy. "It gets dark out here." Tony says surprised when he steps outside of the small house, glancing up at the sky.

"Yeah, no tall buildings to make it seem like it's always day. You can see the stars too." Wren says with a smile.

"I'll see you." Is the last thing Tony says as he leaves.

Neither Tony or Wren have any idea how to explain the last few hours of their lives, Wren is still in shock that Tony showed up at her door when she lays down in bed while Tony is still trying to piece together why he arrived there in the first place. He'd come across the post it note with Wren's address when he slipped in the kitchen and knocked off the papers stuck to his fridge. It was the only piece of paper that fell directly in front of him, rightside up and caught the little light he allowed into the house. He didn't plan to go there neither was he intending to but his legs went on autopilot and before he knew it, he was in the front seat of his car, driving to her home. Leaving his house for the first time in a year was easier than he would have thought. The world didn't care about him anymore. His car left the garage unnoticed, his appearance at the grocery store went unnoticed. Tony Stark was nothing to the world now.

Wren created a spark in the deepest crevice of Tony's chest, he felt relieved to speak to someone who didn't judge him. She didn't see him as a pompous ass or billionaire who would only think of himself. The time they spent together felt like two old friends catching up over a beer. It was relaxed. He didn't suspect that she would rush off and tell the media about his reappearance into society or find a gossip magazine to sell the dark tales that were Tony Stark.

Maybe she could become a much needed friend in whatever world they're forced to reside in.

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

["Android Girl" in the background intensifies]

I'll most likely sink with this ship, I'm afraid. I therefore makes it my task to bring the ship another sickfic, and even if it's kind of the same as before, it's still different in its own way I think. It's kind of OOC here, this much I'll admit, but I got carried away and couldn't stop. It's been a while since I've allowed myself to go wild and far, so this was a bundle of fun and I hope someone else appreciates it!

yeah boi it's another sylvgrid sickfic what ya gonna do 'bout dat

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Tastes Like Iron

Summary: There is a turning point in Sylvain's life and vision of the world around him. A point that just so happens to take place in the middle of a college corridor.

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Modern AU, pre-timeskip personalities) Ship: Ingrid/Sylvain (pre-relationship)

Wordcount: 2.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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It’s early in the morning when Ingrid comes up to him, emerald eyes staring right into his soul. She looks angry at him (when isn’t she? She always seems to be angry at him for a reason or the other, this won’t change soon), footsteps heavy in the echoing corridors. It’s not a sight he hasn’t seen before, frankly: they’ve been like this since they were children, only their appearance and buildings around them changing over the time.

It’s a dynamic that feels comfortable, though, so Sylvain is starting to wonder if he isn’t feeling better with this company around. This is a real paradox in itself: who likes to get scolded?

He’s on his way to class when she bumps into him directly, as she always does to convey her words to him. She takes his scarf in her hand, gets his face nearer to hers (it’s kind of awkward, but he likes it), fury raging in her stare.

“Hello, Sylvain.”

Yet, her frowned eyebrows aren’t of anger, or at least, not as much as one would have thought would they not know Ingrid personally. However, Sylvain knows better than that, knows her better than he’d let on; and guesses this isn’t just going to be about skirt-chasing tendencies he’s trying to keep in check anyway.

Blame it on the butterflies.

“Oh, hi, Ing,” he tells her as he musters the best grin he can give her right now. “What’s up?”

He keeps a coughing fit in as not to prove the point she’ll inevitably present him with.

“Well, I’d like to know what’s up with you, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” that fit escapes from his throat anyway. A few passers-by stare at them, but Ingrid seem not to give a single damn about that, so he focuses back on her.

“This. You absolutely know what I’m referring to, Sylvain. Quit granting me for dumb.”

Well, what can he reply to that? She’s already had him figured out, as she’s always done. This is getting tough, but he’s always liked having a challenge, hasn’t he?

“What’s ‘this’, huh? I’m afraid I don’t understand!” But he coughs again and his head feels stuffed, heavy on his shoulders, and he can only hope he’s doing a decent job at hiding how it really is on the inside.

“Stop taking me for a fool.”

He may have known her since they were children, but that doesn’t prevent Ingrid from surprising him and play him like a fiddle. It’s something she has that people who have tried dating him for his heritage doesn’t have: honesty, frankness, an insight into who he is aside from his surname. There’s no point wallowing in that misery, because he knows where he’s going to end up anyway, and spending time with his childhood friend is worth more than what his family wants him to be.

And it’s because Ingrid has known him since she was a little girl that she does the thing nobody would have in the middle of a corridor like that: put the back of her hand on his forehead, keeping his weight in balance as her frown deepens. He’s spotted for sure.

“Have you still not seen a doctor, Sylvain?! Take your health more seriously than that, you’re going to infect everybody in the school!”

The way she says his name with heavy insistence, a manner unique to her shall he add, as if she was putting a seal on it to enforce her speech, hurts in a strange, agreeable way.

“I thought you’d be the kind to scold me for not attending class.”

“Urgh, don’t try and smooth-talk me out of this! Go back home before you get someone else sick!”

He shrugs.

“If you insist then…!”

Without a forewarning, his focus having shifted from retaining the cough in to sounding convincing in his, a fit breaks out in his throat, making its way outside, as he finally stumbles out of her grasp. His body falls forward, hands almost failing to catch him before he can entirely meet the floor. It hurts deeply and seemingly doesn’t stop, until he feels something in there wanting to exit.

Kneeling in the middle of a corridor, Ingrid’s hands wrapped around his chest, he puts a hand against his mouth as the trembles racking his chest push against his palm. The thing who wants out eventually does so, spilling between his fingers, and it doesn’t feel like harmless phlegm having formed because of the infection.

When the fit lets off, Sylvain glances at the contents of his hand, only to realize how deep he’s gone.

Red slips off from his fingers, some dripping onto the floor, and he suddenly feels much sicker than before. No injury has ever made him react this way.

He glances at Ingrid, panting, to notice her expression has changed from concern to horror. Her mouth is in a sort of awe as she gulps, her hands moving on their own to put his back against the wall while her stare doesn’t let go, eyes trying to search for an answer.

“This is it,” she says with a trembling voice trying to sound steady. “Sylvain, you’re seeing someone, even if you don’t want to.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to go against that anyway.

Sounds and images alike grow distant, even Ingrid’s voice as she speaks into her phone with vigour and a sense of urgency, even the irritating noise of his own cough. He’s drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his skin in front of his eyes, the shift in temperatures never letting go and biting harder every time. Pulling his knees against his chest, wrapping his arms around his lap, he’s waiting for the moment where the tempest will calm down and allow him to make a run for his life.

The tempest never soothes and, instead, Ingrid’s eyes try digging into his with a sense of desperation, the phone now gone and maybe not even calling anymore.

“Sylvain, can you hear me?!” She asks with her hands on his shoulders, slightly shaking him in the commotion.

He nods while in the midst of a coughing fit, that phlegm escaping again.

“Thank goodness…” She whispers to herself, before she changes gears entirely. “How the hell were you still standing…?!” She muses as she puts her hand on his forehead again. “It’s risen too… You’re the biggest of fools, Sylvain, do you know that?!”

“Was… aware of that by now…” He tries laughing, but it only comes out as forced. “Keep telling me that…”

“Then apply them, once and for all! Where do you think that brings you?! What the hell is going on in your head?!”

Ingrid looks aside before her glare comes back, eyes shimmering, and the world disappears behind her. Her voice echoes in the distance, yet so near him, anguish painted all over the picture he can make out of her with his tired eyes.

“Why do you always scare me so much, you jerk!”

His breath is stolen away, lungs locking for a solid moment before he can exhale again. The hands on his shoulders weaken.

“I’m tired of cleaning after your mess, skirt-chasing or not! Even if I tell you crystal-clear, even if I insist on having you finally behave properly, you never take anything seriously and I always have to be behind you so I don’t end up losing you in the long run”

Her finger brushes against his face, right under his mouth, and she shows him a red stain left on her skin.

“This, Sylvain. Do you see it? Do you even know how much hassle you’d avoid for yourself if, for once, you’d take things seriously? If you just listened, we wouldn’t be there!”

“W-well… It’s only my business, right…? I don’t know why you get so worked up for me… Is it because we’re friends…? Are you in love…?”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear that dying voice of yours!”

“Oh c’mon, that’s kinda mean…”

“Healthy people don’t cough up blood, you fool! Stop talking about it as if that was just the cold it was two weeks ago!”

“Still… My business, not yours, Ing;” His flirtatious tone is nowhere to be seen.

“It’s my business too because I don’t want to lose you!”

Her voice breaks, a part of his heart follows.

“… I don’t want to lose someone again,” she mutters as her gaze lowers. “Especially not like that.”

The rest of his heart crumbles under the weight of the feelings it stores endlessly.

He musters what strength he somehow has left, brain almost entirely numbed by a fever blurring his sight and rendering his touch inaccurate, and pulls her against his chest, asking for no cue. There is a puddle of blood in the back of his throat, but he tries smiling if not just for her, and realizes in his daze just how much he’s fucked up.

“It’s not usual for you to lose your composure so much… Ing…” He whispers, the ring of classes beginning drowning in his swimming vision.

She doesn’t reply, her heart almost against his, their beats never matching.

“I’m sorry for worrying you so much, Ing…”

His consciousness is dimming as he sees dots appearing in front of his vision, but not having to retain spitting blood on her.

“Didn’t realize until now… that it mattered to someone…”

Everything disappears before him before he knows it.

When he eventually comes to, Sylvain is surprised he’s still actually part of the living world. It’s no better than being a corpse right now, considering his entire body stopped responding efficiently. There’s no distraction when his vision is mostly a black blur, so he has the time and peace of mind to think about how, yeah, this has been a fiasco and he can only blame himself for it. Not like he’s ever blamed anything but fate, the order of things, the world’s strange whims and himself. His business, not his, after all.

It should have only affected him, but then Ingrid burst into his secrecy, and the entire order of things got taken apart.

His eyelids are heavier than shields and barely open at first, but they eventually allow the light to enter his sight. It hurts at first, worsening the pounding headache settling under his skull’s surface, until he gets over it and observes the change in scenery: this isn’t the corridor where he last spoke to Ingrid. In fact, aside from similar neon lights, it feels different: the smell isn’t the same, the air isn’t the same and, if he glances with how little his neck can move, he can conclude that the furniture isn’t the corridor’s.

Not that it wasn’t a dead giveaway all along, considering he’s lying in an actual bed and not against a wall, and that there are familiar emerald eyes looking in his direction.

“I… Ing…?” His voice sounds worse than before, it’s like he’s still half-asleep.

“Sylvain,” she replies with a calm voice, her usual stern tone, and he can’t help but smile. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” He continues glancing around. “What’s this place…? I don’t recognize it…” He still has the urge to cough, even though it’s less violent than before. That’s a nice change of pace.

“The hospital. Don’t worry, you won’t be here for more than a day or two.”

“…makes sense.”

The silence following this is only short-lived, as Ingrid picks the ball back up merely moments after, just enough to allow him to cough a little more.

“You’re lucky your life wasn’t directly threatened by what’s festering inside your chest. I was surprised myself how fortunate you’ve been with this.”

“I wouldn’t exactly describe being sick… as lucky, Ing…”

“At least you’re recognizing you are, now. It’s progress, I suppose.”

“How can I deny it when I’m like this?”

“You can’t, and that’s a good thing.”

She doesn’t look as angry as she did before, but he can still tell she’s got a problem with something. Most likely him.

“Wait, you’re not in class…?”

“I’d like to officially inform you that you made the professor sick with your germs. Fortunately, he was prevented from making class by the collective efforts of Mercedes and the other professors. Which brings me to the point I wanted to discuss with you…”

Here it comes.

“Can this please serve you as a wake-up call, once and for all?”

Huh, that’s less painful than he expected it to be.

“Oh…”

He’s too tired to play pretend and too conscious of her feelings to pretend like he doesn’t know what she’s referring to. It’s been years since he’s started taking less and less things seriously, to the point his own future is something he’s not worried about for a long time, and he’s just realized how harmful this has always been. He’s something more than his heritage, this he now knows for sure, but this wasn’t the way to go.

This has never been the way to go around with this, and Ingrid has always been right; but he’s been too deaf to hear her until now.

“I finally see why you’ve been so insistent; or so I think…” He’s not sure of much anymore.

“To say that I had to see you cough up blood to hear you say that…” She sighs. “At least, I can hope this means I won’t always be to be behind you, right?”

“Yeah… Sorry for worrying you all the time, Ing…”

“You better be sorry!”

The small laugh she tries to contain is the cutest thing he’s heard in ages.

“Still… Thanks for always having my back. I don’t thank you nearly enough…”

He’s still weak, this much he can tell by how low and gravely his voice sounds, but he’s grateful and doesn’t want to close his eyes if it’s for her to vanish by the time he awakens.

This, in itself, reminds him of how much Glenn’s death had an impact on Ingrid back then; and he cannot help but hate a part of himself for failing to notice that before.

After all, if he wants to win her heart over, he has to take in account her feelings, right? It’s only normal, he has to work more on that.

“I have to say,” she continues leading their conversation, “you’ve made an effort, recently. I see you flirting with anything that moves less than usual.”

He blinks. He’s surprised, but she’s right: he’s been less preoccupied with girls, recently, but he didn’t think it was actually noticeable. Blame it on the butterflies again. Right now, they’re rampaging throughout his abdomen.

“I just wish you’d be more careful to your actions and yourself, that’s it. I won’t be there to keep you in check, one day, you know.”

“I know… That’s why I didn’t want you to worry, but I guess I couldn’t prevent that…”

He coughs again, the iron aftertaste never letting go, but never coming back either.

“How bold of you to assume you could stop a friend from worrying about you.”

He wishes they were more than friends, but he’s a coward and she’s too good for him. The irony: she’s the one girl he knows doesn’t hold an interest in him only for his bloodline, and yet she’ll never be more than his childhood friend because she knows him too much to accept dating him, even as a joke.

The red he sees creeping on her cheeks has to be a feverish delirium.

“Anyway, I hope this bronchitis will make for a good lesson,” she scolds him again.

“Yeah, same,” he replies as he looks back to the ceiling. He hopes the blushing he senses on his own face is hidden by the splotches of fever he could see in the mirror this morning.

His eyelids flutter without his consent, and he sees her less and less per second, having run out of strength to keep himself awake.

“I should let you rest at last,” she eventually says as she begins getting up, which is when he notices her hand leaving his. His skin feels cold again, hair on his arm rising underneath clothes he wasn’t wearing earlier today.

“But… Will you be there, when I’ll wake up…?”

His question, his façade slipping up and shattering to the ground in its fall, makes her stop in her stead and, instead of facing the door, she turns her head in his direction.

“I’ll try my best. I can’t always be behind you, right?”

“I get it… Have a nice day, Ing…”

“Goodnight, Sylvain,” she tells him as the door opens and closes.

It feels soothing to go back to sleep.

#bad things happen bingo #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #ingrid brandl galatea #sylvain jose gautier #sylvgrid #sickfic #blood cw #bronchitis #light angst #pre-relationship #au: modern #au: college #bthb 2 #otp: never would and never have

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douxreviews · 5 years

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Star Trek: The Next Generation - ‘Inheritance’ Review

Data: "I find I am having difficulty separating what would be best for her from what would be best for me."

By nature I love brevity: Eh. What's here isn't bad. It's just a shame what's not here is wildly more interesting.

Here we have an example of one of TNG Season Seven's better ideas, although it's kind of uninspired in its execution and it all gets wrapped up in material that's less interesting to watch. I mean, the central principle is interesting, and there's a lot you could do with it. Data is one of the show's most beloved characters, and his past is shrouded enough that you can get away with a lot concerning it. And to have Data's 'mother' be an android herself is kind of fascinating. But it's at this point in the progression of ideas that 'Inheritance' falters.

Picture with me, if you will, a very different version of this episode. It starts much the same way, as Data discovers who this woman is and figures out their relationship. Then, at the end of the first act, he discovers that she is an android. He finds the chip in her forehead and watches the message from Dr. Soong. Then he talks to his friends about what he should do, and they give him differing advice. It's this that the episode spends the bulk of its time on. It's a fascinating moral question, and there are no easy outs or obvious right answers. Data makes a decision, and the episode refuses to tell us how to feel about that decision, and whether it was right or wrong. Or, maybe even more interestingly, he doesn't tell her, and she finds out anyway. She becomes angry, and maybe in the end he even wipes her memory of the incident to make her happy again.

My point, as I hope you see, is that this question and this problem facing Data is the most interesting thing in this episode, and I would have really enjoyed a thoughtful exploration of it. Instead, 'Inheritance' makes the baffling decision to spend almost its entire runtime on this mystery. And we aren't even fully informed what the mystery is until near the end, because the moment we are made to question who she is is the moment we begin to figure it out for ourselves. That takes up well over two thirds of the episode, along with the technobabble problem that absolutely nobody cares about in the slightest. Then, finally, it spends approximately five minutes barely scratching the surface of its intriguing moral quandary, before it has Data make a decision, tells us it was the right one, and ends.

This is one of the many signs that this season gives us that the TNG writers were losing their groove. They still came up with interesting ideas and concepts, but when it came time to execute them, they wound up hitting the same old story beats, with the same old twists and tired cliches. It wasn't that they couldn't tell stories anymore, it's that they couldn't tell new stories anymore. Every new thing became an old thing very quickly, and they could no longer see the potential in their stories. It's a sad thing, but TNG needed to end. It was just about done.

The actual beats of the episode were pleasant enough to watch, but they weren't particularly interesting and they certainly didn't captivate me like the best episodes of TNG do. Everyone's performances are just fine here, although Brent Spiner's Dr. Soong hologram feels way too jovial for the information he gives Data. It would have worked better had he been more solemn. I thought Fionnula Flanagan as Juliana Soong was quite good; I believed her in her role as Data's mother, and would have gone on believing it had they gone the straightforward route. William Lithgow as her husband is capable in his fairly useless role, with a subplot that barely exists about his belief in Data's abilities because he's an android.

If this episode had been made in the golden age of TNG Seasons 3-5, it would probably would have been among the show's great morality plays. Instead, here, it opts to play out the least interesting approach, and falls flat as a result. Unfortunate.

Strange New Worlds:

The planet we visited was called Atrea IV. It never shows up again, and the technobabble problem with the core is its only distinguishing feature.

New Life and New Civilizations:

Juliana Soong is a new and improved sort of android, with tear ducts, emotions, and aging. It seems unlikely that nothing ever happened to make her discover who she was, but I guess that's the suspension of disbelief here.

Pensees:

-Brent Spiner really does get to play a variety of characters just by doing his regular job on this show. He's kind of like the Tom Cavanagh (The Flash) of Star Trek in that way.

-Yet another concert aboard the Enterprise-D. I'm honestly surprised the crew hasn't heard every piece of music ever written yet. Maybe they have, and that's why they always look so bored in most of those scenes.

-Honestly, how do they keep coming up with new technobabble problems to use? Like, do they just have some 'Science Problem' generator where they fill in the blanks to get a new one? Like, 'The *optional particle* of *something that's in space* is *verb ending in 'ing' that sounds bad*, and we need to *science action* the *science material* into/out of the *thing in space or part of the thing in space* by recalibrating the *part of the ship*!'

-I have no doubt that somebody has brought Juliana back in a novel to tackle the untapped wealth of material this episode ignored. In fact, I'll go check Memory Beta right now.

-Never mind. The only thing anyone ever did with the character happened after her death.

Quotes:

Juliana: "He's dead?" Data: "Yes." Juliana: "I had no idea it would hit me so hard." I like her performance here.

Geordi: "That's life, Data. Part of being human is learning how to deal with the unexpected. To risk new experiences even when they don't fit into your preconceptions."

Data: "I am incapable of embarrassment. Please continue." His delivery here cracked me up for some reason.

Data: "I have been told that my playing is technically flawless, but no one has ever described it as beautiful." Juliana: "It was. Really." Data: "Are you certain you are not saying this because you are my mother? I have noticed that parents tend to exaggerate when it comes to their children's accomplishments."

3 out of 6 science materials.

---

No matter where CoramDeo goes, there he is.

#Star Trek #Star Trek The Next Generation #TNG #Lt Commander Data #Star Trek Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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rk800downloading · 6 years

Text

“Save me” Chapter 16 - Reader x Connor

Disclaimer: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME!! ❤ Pretty close to the end now guys, thank you so much for all of your support - I am so happy this fic has made it this far!! ❤

* DISTURBING CONTENT WARNING! * Read at your own discretion!!

Previous Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” You replied, untying your apron.

“Just me.” Tim opened the door, a grin wide across his face. “I know you said you didn’t want any presents for your birthday, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Tim!” A smile broke through your pretend pout as you hopped on your bed, sitting crossed legged. “Thank you.”

He sat down beside you, handing you a small card. “It’s not everyday you turn 18.”

You glanced at Tim once more before carefully opening the envelope. The card itself appeared to be handmade; it was construction paper full of scribbles you weren't exactly sure what of - but you thought you saw at least a dog and cat.

“Did you draw this?” You asked, giggling.

Tim playfully rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m good at housework, not drawing.”

You laughed again, taking your time to admire the work he had put into the card before opening it.

Sparkles, and a neat bundle of 100 dollar bills fell out, resting on your lap.

“You’ve been working so hard since we had that talk of moving to Detroit.” Tim placed a comforting hand on your back, gently rubbing. “I knew you were really close to what you needed - and I wanted to help.”

You opened your mouth, words refusing to come. “How-” You looked up, back down, and then up again. “How did you-?”

He pointed to his temple. “It’s pretty easy to pass for a human when you don’t have an LED. I took on a few graveyard shifts, labour jobs - I don’t have to sleep like you do.”

You shoulders began to shake, your eyes feeling hot.

“Tim- I can’t- I don’t- I don’t know what to say or how to repay you-”

“Then don’t say anything.” He grinned again, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Follow your dreams - move to Detroit. That’s all I need.”

---

Deep breath in.

You looked at the orphanage in the distance - how its deteriorating cobblestones begged you to walk down them - begged you to return to the past.

Connor’s fingers reached back from the passenger seat and intertwined themselves with yours.

“Does my hand still calm you,” He smiled, “my love?”

You saw Hank grinning in the rearview mirror. “That’s cute and all, but stop. I still have trauma from seeing you two making out.”

“From when you spied on us at the park?”

“For the last time, I was not spying!”

You smirked at their banter, gaze still lingering on your childhood home.

The moment you stepped out of this car you would be forced to remember what you had tried so desperately to forget. Your childhood, the massacre, Tim - the old Tim, the new GOR. You would have to face it all - but you wouldn’t be alone.

You had Hank, and you had Connor.

You finally let out a deep breath, a bright smile spreading across your face. “What’s the plan?”

“Uh,” Hank froze, caught off guard from your sudden enthusiasm. “Well, what is the plan Connor?”

Connor folded his arms across his chest. “We came here because it was our only lead - we don’t know if Tim is actually at the orphanage, but we should proceed as if he is.” He faced you. “Can you remember the layout of the building?”

You closed your eyes, trying to visualize your childhood home. The memories came easily.

You remembered the orphanage well - every room, every nook and cranny - every secret. If Tim was hiding, you would find him.

“The building is three stories tall with two basements.” You started, speaking confidently. “The main floor is the living room and dining area, everything upstairs is bedrooms, washrooms, and offices. The first basement is the kitchen, and very bottom is laundry.”

Connor nodded, eyes crinkled. “Very thorough. You never cease to amaze.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Hank turned from the driver’s seat ruffling your hair, before leaning forward on the wheel. “Huge ass orphanage though. What if he escapes before we find him?”

“Tim is badly damaged - combined with the fact that he’s an outdated model means there is a high probability we can sneak up on him so long as we stay quiet.” Connor answered.

“Tactical espionage.” A mischievous look spread across Hank’s face. “I like it.”

Connor’s gaze narrowed for a moment as he gave Hank a look. ”I propose we go to the kitchen first.”

“You think he’s cooking red ice in an orphanage where he murdered children?” Hank grimaced. “Seems about right.”

“The blood red ice never stopped circulating even after authorities took control of the warehouse and apartments.” Connor brought a fist to his mouth, expression pensive. “Making red ice would be simple for an android - basic chemistry, like making acetaminophen - aspirin. Other than ingredients-”

“Oh, he’s got plenty of those.” Hank coughed.

“Other than ingredients,” Connor ignored the remark, “All he would need is a vent and a heat source.”

“A vent…?” You bit your lip. “Why?”

“An organic solvent is needed in order to dissolve all the ingredients - a common one is gasoline.”

Hank scoffed. “Oh, he needs a vent so he doesn’t blow himself up from gas fumes. Too bad he thought that far ahead.”

Connor faced Hank, tilting his head. “Your retorts are top notch today.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hank threw his arms in the air. “I’m a little on edge right now.”

You gave the man’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before returning to the matter. “The kitchen would be perfect. It’s large, meant to be able to cook for all the children at once. There’s a huge vent and even a natural gas stove.”

“Then it’s decided.” Connor grabbed the door’s handle, pausing for a moment. “You’ll have to lead us though.”

There was no hesitation in your mind. Only focus, determination - you wouldn’t let your old feelings get in the way.

No matter what.

You exited the car, opening Connor’s door and offering your hand to him. “Leave it to me! I’ve got this.”

His eyes were soft as he accepted your gesture. He stepped out of the car, pressing your body into his the way you taught him. “I know you do.”

“But one last thing before we take this show on the road.” Hank walked around the car to meet you. The corner of his mouth tugged into a apologetic grin as he grabbed your hands, placing the cool metal of a gun in them. “Do you know how to use one?”

“No...” You muttered quietly, staring at the foreign object. It weighed heavily in your fingers, but lighter than you guessed the weight of killing someone would feel.

“I’m sorry,” Hank’s voice was somber, “but I need to know you can protect yourself incase something happens.” He adjusted your body into a firing stance; your dominant arm locked, grip firmly around the gun, other arm supporting.

“This is the safety.” Hank spoke, clicking a little metal piece down. “The gun is now live and pulling the trigger will fire a bullet.” He quickly flicked the piece back up. “Make sure this is always up unless you’re ready to potentially take a life.”

Hank’s words settled deep in your chest as he pulled a small holster from his coat pocket, clicking it around your hips. He placed the gun in its rightful spot, locking it in with a snap of a button.

His blue eyes pierced you. “Don’t take it out unless you absolutely have to, okay kid?”

You nodded, gulping down the thick feeling in your throat. You hoped you wouldn’t have to.

“Okay.” Connor spoke, his gaze steeled as he looked you. He uncrossed his arms, fists forming at his sides. “Let’s go.”

---

Thorns of overgrown rose bushes scraped at your legs; their blood colored blossoms led you - winding and turning until you reached a familiar gate, ‘Rosewater Orphanage’ was painted on wood above.

“Holy shit,” Hank murmured as he gazed past the metal bars.

The orphanage was even larger than you remembered. The shadow of its massive presence loomed over you, swallowing you whole. Ivy had grown up the sides of its brick wall exterior like a parasite; it wrapped itself around the pillars of the front door’s awning, framing the dozens of dirty, neglected windows. Cracks had worked themselves through the worn cement of the walkway, up and across the remnants of children’s paintings that time and rain had forgotten to wash away.

Connor opened the gate, his footsteps soundless as he led you to the double doored entrance. He pulled a gun from an underarm holster that his leather jacket had concealed. With a small nod, Connor pushed open the door.

It opened with ease, groaning as the sickening smell of iron welcomed you.

The click of Hank’s flashlight revealed a nightmare. Blood had soaked into the wood of the foyer - staining, dirtying, ruining whatever blissful reminiscence you had left. Memories of children snapped under your feet as you proceeded into the rust colored room, the feeling of nausea growing with each crunch.

“They never cleaned up the fucking crime scene after?” Hank whispered angrily, pulling his shirt to cover his nose.

“The records say they did.” Connor paused, his LED spinning red. “I can see some faint traces of dried thirium on the floor - an android was involved.”

Hank screwed up his face. “Were we still doubting that this is Tim’s faul-”

“No - there’s no one else it could have been.” You kept your voice low and sharp as you tiptoed around the decay. “Follow me.”

The further you walked into the orphanage, the darker it became. An oppressive weight pressed against your lungs, threatening to suffocate you. You kept your eyes forward, leaving the dust and dried blood in your peripherals. You knew that if you looked too much - if you thought too much - your numb facade would crumble.

You crept into the dining room, the stench of rot even stronger than the blood; the carpet had become molded, the remains of spilt food and drink saturating it. Curtains were shredded and sullied, china dish cabinets knocked down. You almost tripped over the steak knives that had been stabbed into the floorboards.

The door to the basement was a thick metal, blue and tired. You pressed lightly against it, and then harder - It wouldn’t budge.

Hank sighed softly. “Classic.”

Connor attempted to fiddle with the door, hands dropping in defeat. “Is there another way?”

“No.” You bit down, forcing your brain to think. “But there could be a key in George’s office on the first floor. He always had spares of the important keys.”

“We’d better try it.” Hank frowned as his light illuminated scattered dolls - frayed and abandoned. “I wanna get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Me too.” Your voice shook as you tore your eyes away from the cracked porcelain faces that you once adored. You turned, footsteps swift as you headed back to the entrance and up its grand staircase.

At the end of the first floor’s hallway was a single, lonely door. You put your fingers around the handle.

You hoped that when you opened the door, you would see George sitting at his dignified oak desk. You hoped that he would pull down his round spectacles, and smile - saying your name when he realized who had come in. He would ask if you’d gotten in trouble again, and you’d say that you hadn’t - you just needed help with a crossword.

But that was in the past,

and this was now.

You opened the door, and all you saw was the desk - a desolate desk, an empty room lacking an owner. You walked forward, drawing a line through its dust with your hand, finding once forbidden drawers. You always wanted to figure out what secrets were held within its wood, but never had the cha-

QUACK, QUACK, QUACK - DUCKS GO QUACK!

A loud noise rang throughout the room, draining the blood from your face. You spun around to find Hank’s foot atop a blinking, blaring toy.

MOO, MOO, MOO - COWS GO MOO!

Connor rushed for the toy, muzzling the noise in his jacket.

BAH, BAH, BAH - SHEEPS GO B-

You heard a crack, and then complete silence. Connor pulled the toy from his jacket, a plastic farmer decapitated in his hands.

Your heartbeat echoed through your ears.

Your stomach was in your throat.

You shakily looked to Connor, who stood frozen in place other than the hand that halted you and Hank from moving.

Seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for a signal.

And you didn’t dare to breathe.

You only strained to hear - searching for a creak, or a rustle of clothes - but all you could hear was the static in your head, getting louder and louder.

It was deafening,

unbearable.

And then finally, Connor spoke.

“If Tim was here, he definitely heard that.” He lowered his hand, gently placing the toy to the ground.

You collapsed, legs weak from the adrenaline.

“But I didn’t hear anything after the noise - no movements.”

“Fuck me! I’m sorry.” Hank exhaled, resting his hands on his knees. “That scared the shit out of me.”

You held a hand over your chest, finally managing some words. “You didn’t hear any movement? Is Tim even here?”

“I don’t know.” Connor kept his voice hushed. “Stay quiet though - we can’t let down our guard.”

“Right.” Hank heaved in one last deep breath before standing upright. “And I’ll make sure to watch where I fucking step.”

“Probably a good idea.” You muttered jokingly, using the desk as a support to help you stand. You began rummaging through the keys, reading their IDs aloud. “Laundry, laundry chutes, electrical, washrooms one, two and three, bedrooms…”

“But no basement, right?” Hank smirked.

You ran your fingers through the keys again, carefully, attentively - shaking your head no at the results.

Hank clicked his tongue, a look of irritation spreading across his face. “So, what's our new plan? Have Connor shoot off the lock again?”

“I already considered the possibility.” Connor leaned against a wall. “I inspected the door earlier. The hinges aren’t exposed and the lock is a deadbolt - I preconstructed 567 scenarios before deciding the thought was useless.”

Hank spat. “Fuck.”

“Wait.” Your eyes gazed over the keys once more, an idea formulating in your head. “The laundry chute…”

“What?” Connor’s LED spun red as his brows furrowed.

“The laundry chute!” You looked up from the desk, pointing to a small door on the wall. “There’s a cupboard like this for laundry on each floor that all connect to the same chute - and I know that I’m small enough to climb down it. I could climb down to the kitchen and unlock the door.”

You could see both Hank and Connor tense up, hesitating.

“That’s a little fucking dangerous, don’t you think?” Hank’s jaw clenched. “What if you fell?”

“I’ve actually climbed it before, as a child - part of the reason why the chutes have locks on them now.” You admitted unwillingly.

“And what if Tim is there, in the kitchen?” Connor’s temple hadn’t stopped flashing red. “It is physically impossible for Hank or I to come down that chute with you.”

“The chute cupboard is practically right beside the basement door - and you said it yourself that there’s been no signs of movement! Tim might not even be there.” You refused to back down from Connor’s glare. “I can do this. Let me help.”

Hank placed a hand on your arm. “It’s not about that - we just don’t want to put you at risk.”

“How many times have you put your life at risk for the people you love?” The words slipped out of your mouth - your feelings exposing you. “Give me the chance. I’ve been a coward since this whole thing started - but we need to catch Tim, for my sake, for yours and Connor’s - to make Cole proud, to avenge my family and the exploited androids - the android that gave his life for me!”

You clutched the key tight in your hand.

“Wait for me by the basement door, and come in as soon as I open it.” Your voice was just above a whisper. “Let me do this.”

You could see their eyes wavering, confliction painting itself across their faces.

“If Tim is there I’ll just do a little...” A small smile formed at your lips. “Tactical espionage.”

“That is not reassuring.” Connor scoffed at your bad joke.

You held up the key again, eyes pleading. “Well?”

“If you do encounter him…” Hank stood defeatedly, reaching out his pinkie finger to you. “Promise you won’t try to be a hero - promise you’ll just run to the door and unlock it.”

You smiled again, wrapping your pinkie finger tightly around his.

“I promise.”

Next Chapter: CHAPTER 17

#detroit become human #detroit: become human #Detroit: BH #dbh #detroit: connor #detroit connor #dbh: connor #rk800 #RK800 Connor #connor x reader #fanfic #hank anderson #dbh: hank

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thirium-fiction · 6 years

Note

What breed of dog are Connor Kara Markus (Ralph?) And Alice's favorite ???

A/N: You don’t understand how much I loved writing this. I got to talk about dogs! I got a lot of the information from various sources and based their favorite dog around their personality. So, I guess this is also what breed the characters would be if they were dogs? Idk I just love dogs

Connor –

The Affenpinscher

Known to be quite curious and loyal himself, the android would be most attracted to the Affenpinscher breed. He’d be fascinated that although despite its smaller size, the dog would be fearless, tending not to back down from a challenge. Affenpinschers generally are quite animals, but when they’re excited, nothing can stop its spark and fire. Connor couldn’t help but fall in love with the animal at first sight, not hesitating to run to Hank and ask if he could keep it. After numerous amounts of facts on why the dog would be beneficial thrown his way, the older detective would reluctantly nod his head, allowing the android to have it. The android would immediately search through a database of names that could fit the little canine. Eventually, he decided on Amalie (meaning hard working, industrious, laborious and curious individual).

Fun fact: Described by the French as the “diablotin moustachu,” or mustached little devil. But, the German ‘affen’ is for monkey/ape, while ‘pinscher’ is terrier which directly translates to Monkey Terrier.

Kara –

The Golden Retriever

How could she not fall in love with this adorable pooch? Golden Retrievers are known to be great therapy dogs, especially towards a younger audience. Of course, this meant that she had another aid to help her out with Alice! This breed tends to become sad and even depressed when left alone for long periods of time so Kara always made sure that between her, Alice, and Luther, someone would be giving the animal some love. The pooch is able to bark loudly at strangers, but once they physically interact with another, they become friendlier. These dogs can easily adapt to new environments and are easy to train, making them one of the most popular breeds. The animal tended to get into so mischief with Alice at times so Kara and Luther decided on the name, Rascal (another name for a trouble maker).

Fun fact: Golden Retrievers are used for search and rescue teams because of their keen sense of smell and tracking abilities.

Markus –

The Siberian Husky

A Siberian Husky for sure. These canines are intelligent and affectionate without being needy. They tend not to be aggressive, but they are territorial. Despite being intelligent however, Huskies aren’t as eager to please humans as other breeds, making them more difficult to be able to train. This breed needs knowledgeable owners who are ensuring that they are socialized and trained throughout their lives. Used for sledding, these Arctic animals tend to work in packs to carry out a deed. How fitting that Markus also works in groups? Huskies have the tendency to wander away from home, causing them to be lost. Markus knew he found the right dog when he noticed the different colored eyes that it had. One an icy blue while the other was a deep brown. The android had to choose the name Champ for this pup (short for Champion).

Fun fact: Huskies sleep curled up with their nose touching their tail. This is known as the Swirl.

Ralph –

The Irish Wolfhound

An introverted Irish Wolfhound for an introverted android? Uh, yes! Despite its giant size (up to seven feet on its hind legs), these canines are very docile creatures. They are one of the oldest breeds known which causes confusion in the exact origin of how they came to where they are today. Not only were they used to hunt wolves, but they were also used to battle humans as well! Both Ralph and the dog were intimidated by each other at first, not knowing what to do. But, as time passed, they both grew to love each other. Even more so when the animal fetched succulent dinner for Ralph! In the beginning, the android was just going to name it ‘Dog’ (he didn’t know he actually had to give it a name), but he decided on the title Wanderer.

Fun fact: Irish Wolfhounds are described by the Irish proverb, “Gentle when stroked, fierce when provoked”. Makes sense that Ralph was so attached to it!

Alice –

The American Cocker Spaniel

How could she choose only one dog? There’s so many! But, if she absolutely had to, she had to choose the American Cocker Spaniel. She watched ‘Lady and the Tramp’ once and she knew that she wanted to have her own Lady. Lucky for her, the Cocker Spaniel are happy, cheerful dogs that are great with children. Like the Golden Retriever, this breed does not like to be alone as well. Good thing that Alice will constantly be playing with it 24/7, even when its tired out! This dog is definitely a barker despite its sweet nature, but still has a soft personality that does not work well in harsh environments (which caused the young girl and the young pup to be attracted to each other immediately). Alice would be up all night, reading ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ to the puppy, ignoring bedtime rules. And of course, she just had to name it Lady. Now, she had both Rascal and Lady to play with!

Fun fact: Cocker Spaniels love toys. They will even go to great lengths to obtain more, including destroying their old one.

Bonus! Gavin:

#detroit become human #connor x reader #markus x reader #kara x reader #dbh ralph x reader #dbh alice

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spirit-of-the-void · 6 years

Text

Connor rk800 x Reader (Halloween Party!)

AN: *me reading the notes* glad to see people are just as thirsty for the android as I am, guess I have to make a part two lmao

Summary: An annual Halloween party is being held at the reader’s house for those in the office not stuck working for the best day of the year. Connor, of course, is expected to go and dress up. Just some random Connor x Reader fluff for you all, possible smut next part!

Part 2

“Get a move on, Connor!” Hank called impatiently as he walked toward the ridiculously decorated store front, “Jeez, usually you’re so eager to follow me everywhere!”

Connor sighed, removing himself from the vehicle with an uneasy look at the store. It was a seasonal thing, one that only appeared at the beginning of September and was gone by November first. Skeletons climbed the Halloween related name and various displays were seen in the store front. He knew for a fact that you would have loved to come there and browse--it was a shame you were busy with errands related to the party.

Connor himself saw this task with a grim determination. He desperately wished to not disappoint you. He wanted to meet your standards with this, despite Hank claiming vehemently that there were no standards. This was Connor’s first celebrated Halloween, and he was torn between taking it as seriously as his instinct demanded, or just...having fun with it. He knew you wanted the latter, so he would try to make an effort.

Connor adjusted his tie, a nervous habit, and followed Hank into the Halloween store. They were immediately assaulted with eerie laughing and cackling, lighting flashing from a corner with moving displays. Connor could smell plastic and latex, various chemicals made for flog machines and the facial makeup required for the holiday. He took a moment to scan, noting various “spooky” signs, costumes, and other Halloween-esque trinkets. And candy. Good lord, how much candy did the expect human children to consume in one night?

Hank saw the hesitant look on his face, patting him hard on the back, “How about you try on a few costumes and see which one you want to go with your vampire shit?” When Connor nodded, Hank let out a sigh, “Try not to be so uptight, kid. Have a little fun with it!”

“I will...certainly try,” Connor replied with a tilt of his head, watching as Hank shuffled over to the fake fangs and face makeup, grumbling all the way. Connor himself felt no ill will toward the holiday, but...his nervousness about how he would present himself to you was making it quite challenging. Not that he blamed you, it wasn’t your fault he was so, as Hank put it once, smitten with you. He just...felt things for you, and he wanted to be as mysterious and sexy as you claimed vampires were.

So he thumbed through the clothing racks, looking at costume after costume. He found himself smirking at some, and the more he looked the more he relaxed. He found enjoyment seeing all the ridiculous things people were willing to wear for the thirty first. Fun could be found in this, he decided, in the playing pretend. Werewolves, wizards, naughty nurses...just about naughty everything. If there was an occupation, there was a “naughty” version of it for woman. How very sexist. Although, he did find a very not safe for work male cop outfit, which consisted of only an officers cap, cuffs, and booty shorts. That had him chuckling a bit.

He paused, pulling the outfit off the rack and snapping a quick picture, mentally sending it to your phone with the words, “On a scale of one to ten, how pissed would Gavin be if i sent him this with a note saying ‘ here is your Halloween costume?’”

He had no sooner put the ridiculous article of clothing back when you sent your reply.

‘Connor, sweetie, as funny as that is, i value your life way too much to let you do that lol’

He smiled, enjoying your use of the word “Sweetie” far too much for his own good. Before his inner mechanisms could start overheating he picked out a few things from the rack, heading to the dressing room to try them on. Just as he closed the door to the small room he saw Hank walk up and sit on a nearby stool to wait for him to come out. Connor would happily admit that a few of these costume choices were outright silly, but damn it they wanted him to have fun so he would.

First costume he came out in was the most ridiculous one, and he thoroughly enjoyed Hank’s look of shock and sharp wheeze of a laugh.

“Oh my god, kid,” He sounded like he was choking on his own breath--he coughed quite a few times before continuing, “I would never in a million years let you into polite society looking that stupid.”

Connor smiled crookedly, seeing the bright red fabric of the crab costume in the mirror and shrugging once, “Are you certain, Hank? A vampire crab is quite unique.”

Hank groaned in pure agony, resting his head on his hands, “Connor...”

“You’re sounding a bit crabby, lieutenant, are you sure you’re alright?”

Hank groaned so loudly Connor was sure the whole store heard it.

~ ~ ~

“Oh no, boy-toy must be messaging you.”

You were sitting cross-legged on a stool in your kitchen with Chris and Kelsey, two other officers from the station. You had paused for a moment in decorating cupcakes to read a text, feeling your face light up at the sight of Connor’s name with a little dog emoji next to it pop up. Every time he messaged you it made your heart pound like a caged bird searching for release. It was silly, you knew that, but your attachment and feelings for Connor had grown so genuine it was almost embarrassing.

You stuck your tongue out at Chris, “His name is Connor, Chris, and he isn’t a toy.”

Chris was grinning, slowly trying to decorate a cupcake to make it look like a mummy, “Yeah but when I use the ‘crush’ word or the ‘lover’ word you turn bright red.”

Sure enough, both those terms caused your cheeks to flush, making the two laugh. You just couldn’t help it, thinking of Connor in a romantic way...your body betrayed you every time.Even in front of Connor sometimes you had to play off flushed cheeks and a racing heartbeat in one way or another.

“Shut your faces,” You hiss, waving a tube of frosting threateningly, “I’m armed and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Kelsey giggled, wiping a bit of frosting onto your face, “Oh come on, there’s no reason to be embarrassed. It’s adorable, we’ve all had crushes.”

You duck down a little, staring down at the cupcakes before you as you mutter, “It’s more than a crush you heathens.” And you weren’t lying--you had never felt this way about anyone ever. It was so overwhelming it was almost hard to tolerate in every day life. A crush could be ignored, a crush could be handled. What you couldn’t handle was the urge to kiss Connor’s mouth every time you saw him.

You saw both of them soften their expressions considerably, Chris giving you a comforting pat on the head as he replied, “Be that as it may, we’re still allowed to tease you. You two have been flirting for months now and we all reached a point where we couldn’t take it anymore,” He rolled his eyes, “I don’t know who’s more oblivious, you or him.”

“I’d say him,” Kelsey said with a smirk, setting about making another batch of frosting, “His poor little android brain can’t handle how gorgeous you are, (Y/N).”

You bit your lip a little, a nervous habit. Part of you was really hoping they were right. You wanted Connor to share your feelings so badly you couldn’t stand it. Most times when you felt romantic affection towards someone who you were unsure felt the same way, you squashed those feelings before they grew. But with Connor...they grew. They grew and grew until you had no control over it.

And it wasn’t just how handsome he was. Seeing him take care of stray dogs, listening to him talk about the mechanisms of androids and the concept of androids feeling emotion...you loved all of it. You looked forward to seeing him every day. His crooked smirk sucker-punched you in the gut each time he showed you it, and those puppy-dog eyes...

You sank down in your chair, looking at the text and opening the picture attached before your friends noticed you getting flustered again. What you saw made you cackle aloud anyway, making the two look at you in confusion.

In the picture was Connor in a crab costume, smirking with Hank sitting with his head in his hands in the background. The message included? “Hank seems a bit crabby today.”

Oh no, you bit your lip and smiled what you knew was a dopey grin--he was charming your socks off, you couldn’t help it. He looked bright eyed and adorable in the plush costume, and you were glad to see he was having a good time. Connor was such an unbelievable dork, and that very fact made your heart start pounding again. You loved that about him.

“Oh no,” Chris groaned, “We lost her again. What did robocop send you this time?”

You giggled hysterically, holding up the photo for the two to see. Kelsey looked like she was about to die.

“Oh my god, can i have that framed and put up in the office?” She wheezed, holding her sides, “Just for Hank in the background. That poor man, it’s killing me.”

You laughed, holding your phone out of reach of the two, “No way, this treasure is mine!”

While they complained in various ways, you typed out a swift reply, cheeks warm as you did so.

“Oh my god, Connor have I ever told you what an absolute dork you are? Gotta say I approve <3″

The heart emoji felt strangely risky to you, which was silly and childish to think about. Letting out a light sigh, you pocketed your phone before you could get distracted again, taking a quick look out into your living room. You’d happily admit you’d gone all out. Creepy lights, cobwebs, skeletons...this holiday was practically the only one you enjoyed due to having no family.

When you were with the people at the station that cared about you...it felt like family.

Chris saw the dreamy look on your face and sighed again, “Oh good god, she’s spacing again. We seriously need to get you laid, (Y/N).”

If you had been drinking something, you would have spit it out.

Kelsey giggled at your flustered look, an evil twinkle in her eyes, “Isn’t that where this night was going? What better way to have Halloween? Confess your love, get that good android di--”

“Gah!” You covered your ears, face flushed so warm you were sure you were on fire, “Stop! There’s no way Connor would ever want to do that...!”

Chris let out a low rumble of laughter, sounding almost sinister, “When he gets a load of those thigh highs you have planned and that butt snuggled in those shorts--”

Kelsey interjected, “Ew, when you talk like that you sound as thirsty as Gavin...!”

“Sorry sorry,” Chris laughed, “I just know she’s going to be a snack.”

You placed your head in your hands, feeling how warm your cheeks were from blushing. You weren’t deep enough in denial to say you hadn’t thought about it, hell half the reason you chose to dress that way was...well...to see how he reacted. It was easy to flirt and appear confident on your exterior, but this in reality made you jittery and nervous. You wanted things to work out with Connor, you wanted validation in a way.

Could Connor feel those attractions toward you? God, you hoped so.

“Look at that thirsty expression,” Kelsey tsked, “Girl you’ve got it bad.”

“I’m...not thirsty...” You muttered, not sounding convincing in the slightest.

Chris chuckled, finishing up the last cupcake with a satisfied look, “Do we even know if Connor has a dick?”

“Oh my god--” You started to groan.

“He has a tongue and ten fingers that aren’t broken,” Kelsey interjected with a shrug.

“Oh my god...!” You squeaked, “Kelsey!”

“What? Dicks aren't everything.”

The two dissolved into cackles, and you resisted hitting your head on the counter to clear your thoughts. This is why it was so hard to stay composed around Connor, these two were bad for your thought process in every way. Lusting for the oblivious boy was so not where you wanted to head with your feelings, but it didn’t take very long. He was just....so much. of everything. Not to mention you in general had been comfortable in your sexuality. But with Connor, the added feelings of romance were somehow more flustering.

As if on cue, your phone went off again, and you quickly pulled it out. Sure enough, his familiar name was in your notifications. You wasted no time opening his message, a bit disappointed to see no picture this time, but his words made your heart pound.

“You’ll be happy to know, I had quite a bit of fun today. Hank and I also managed to settle on an outfit for me. I will keep it a secret for now...But I can’t wait to see what you think. See you tomorrow evening, (Y/N).”

You held the phone to your chest, biting your lip with anticipation. How the hell were you going to wait a whole day to see what he had picked out for his vampire theme? God, maybe you were as thirsty as they said?

Either way, maybe that whole day was enough to gain some semblance of composure.

AK: I hope yall caught the funny ass crab suit reference i made ;) I have big plans for the next part

Tagged: @bethanystan

#Connor rk800 #connor #dbh connor #detroit become human #dbh #connor rk800 x reader #connor x reader #Halloween Party #halloween party part 2 #spirit writes #spirit writes fanfic

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