#Anderson regrets his actions so much
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rubeau-art · 4 months ago
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Anderson in that horrible moment after realising he attacked the wrong person, who was already on a pretty bad way. He crunched some four of Reynard’s ribs and in his blind rage would have kept going if Nina hadn’t snapped him out of i.
He and Nina (not pictured here) take Ren back to their little safe house after this so he can recover.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago
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So the mom friend!reader fic?? What if she’s sick and trying to hide it from the others, especially Aaron, while at work and also still trying being the mom friend 😭🖤
hidden efforts
AWW cw; fem!reader, being sick descriptions, established relationship (aaron and reader are married), fluff <333 continued from simultaneously
despite hand sanitizer and vitamin c, whatever cold spencer had managed to overtake your immune system next. brutally.
you woke up feeling unwell, but it was just a distant pang. nothing major, nothing worth staying home over. but as the day moved forward you began to regret your decision; you barely had the strength to lift a pen. and through the course of the morning, the trash bin hidden underneath your desk had grown dangerously full of tissues.
while you loved taking care of others, you didn't favor being the one being coddled. unless it was by someone with the first name aaron, last name hotchner. but even then, would you be reluctant to admit it.
"hey, do you know what-"
"2:30." you foolishly pushed your voice, attempting to hide the hoarseness within it - to sound as normal as you possibly could.
derek crossed his arms, amused sass in his voice, "i didn't even finish my question."
"but i answered it, didn't i?" you tried your hardest to return a teasing smile, but it was half your best. instead, you fought back a sneeze, prompting your eyes to water and nose to burn.
he nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in suspicion. but he dropped it quickly, moving on.
and for the meantime, you turned back to the waiting work in front of you, forcing yourself to get something done.
"hey."
aaron's voice and sudden hands on the back of your chair caused you to jump in your seat. he quickly squeezed your shoulders, silently apologizing for startling you.
"you ready...?" his voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the contents of your desk, littered with cough drop wrappers and a few scrunched up tissues.
you did your best to block the scraps from his view - leaning forward, discreetly swiping them off side towards the container holding your pens - almost letting a cough escape as you opened your mouth. "y-yeah-"
"what are those?"
"the action reports for-"
"no, not that." aaron reached forward and plucked a wrapper off your desk, holding it up between his finger pads. his lips formed into a pout, "sweetheart, are you not feeling well?"
"i'm feeling perfectly fine."
due to the wheels on your chair, aaron was easily able to maneuver you back, exposing your tissue-filled bin. "then what's this?"
"allergies?" you offered, in a hopeful tone - maybe he'd buy that?
but naturally, your husband knew better, "why didn't you tell me you felt sick?"
"i'm not sick, jus' a cold." you swiveled your chair around, peering up at him.
the back of aaron's hand found your forehead, the scowl on his face deepening at his findings. "i don't think so. you're running a temperature, and now that i have a better look at you, you're rather flushed as well."
"flushed or not, we have a meeting-"
"no, we have a meeting." aaron responded, referring to himself and the others, "you're going right up to my office and laying down."
you gazed at him exasperatedly, playing up that look in your eyes, the one that was nearly impossible for him to say no to. "aaron-"
"nope, i’m not falling for it this time," he helped you to your feet, his hand supporting the far side of your hip as you wobbled vaguely. his eyes darted to the right, taking quick notice of someone walking by, "anderson, would you mind grabbing a water bottle and bringing it to my office?"
"so much for vitamin c, huh?" derek chimed in from his desk, his playful smile also on the sympathetic side.
you rolled your eyes, but allowed aaron to guide you up the few stairs into his office, gratefully.
he insisted you lay down on the couch (and not get up for the life of you), he insisted you keep the lights off, he insisted you use his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.
"we'll head home once this concludes. if you need anything, give me a call, or send a text. i'll be here." aaron brushed your hair away from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on it afterwards. "and, choice of soup is yours tonight."
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dreamxthetic · 9 months ago
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Louis de Pointe du Lac | Jacob Anderson | Interview with a vampire | Bygones
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Two hundred years and counting. That is how long Louis has been on this earth—decades upon decades of ill misfortunes and fleeting 15-minute episodes of contentment and peace. More than two hundred years on this god-forsaken planet, yet your face continues to stalk his thoughts like a drug.
He remembered evidently the way you smiled—how your dimples would quirk as your eyes sheepishly fluttered when he showered you in the dearest of compliments. They were the highlight of his days, and Louis remembered all of it, especially the first date.
It was night out, beyond dark, so much so that the two of you would frequently stumble while trekking to your hidden location beneath the glistening stars. He isn't proud of it now, but looking closer at things, he could have been less ashamed of you and met more frequently within the daytime, but the times were sacred back then, and he was young and cautious. He had to catch you four times that night before insisting on leading the way, and when you reached your goal destination, he covered your eyes.
You had asked him, "What," in return, but he merely chuckled hoarsely and gave you a kiss on your cheek.
Louis smiles…oh how soft your skin was…
It was the night of a many first of the two of you, but nothing could upstage it being the night he confessed to you. A mere six words, double that of the usual endearing three, and yet they changed your lives forever…especially yours. He still recalls how your voice cracked with disbelief and joy when he uttered them to you—how the crickets chirped with applause around you while the moon beamed a light of approval onto you…His most cherished memory. And of course, he could never forget the kiss you be-granted his lips after that, would never forget. It was slow and endearing, the most passionate he had ever been with anyone—most vulnerable: more than with Lestat. You're bodies had intermingled beyond that of just flesh. You had claimed his soul, his destiny, something Lestat only had the pleasure of holding onto temporarily.
He regretted deeply not holding onto you more dearly. He could have fought harder, should have! Sure, the times were cruel to people his kind, and it didn't make it any better that he never held the courage to visit you out of the ours of the damned, but still! You were more than just the love of his life; his actions should have replicated and been in tune with his words—his promises. Louis was young and dumb—but in love, and because of that, your veiled relationship only lasted 3 years. An ironic outcome for how high of a standard he held you.
If only he had gotten you out when he promised…had given you that happily ever after in that cottage. Maybe then…only then would Lestat not have gotten to you—would the world not have gotten the chance to degrade you: your very own family…
But he didn't. He didn't, and that was his greatest regret. Louis was 25 when it happened, cursed that way after that enchanting night with Lestat. You were pushing 30, and it was 6 years after the breakup. He knew that because he never did stop loving you. He stalked you like a personal guardian angel. Though it appears he was an ass at the job because despite seeing you once every week, he still had no clue about the internal war you were waging within yourself. If anything, it only gave his infatuation with you over to Lestat. That is what set things truly ablaze.
To this day, Louis doesn't know what Lestat did to you, nor did anyone he asks, but the morning after, he was there, just standing in front of him with the most brim smile in town, eerie in all its glory. He should have instantly known then that something was wrong, but having been with the unpredictable Lestat de Lioncourt for so long, he merely grew docile to the older's eccentric behavior, something he repented for the next day. It was 2:00AM on 8/5/179 when they discovered the body, a mere year from the new century. Of course, to Louis, this was no big deal, having already deducted that it was one of Lestat's many feeding victims, but when he heard of where the body was located and how they had passed, everything changed. There were only 2 people aside from him that he firmly believed to know that place: You and Lestat. And if Lestat was okay…then…
He had to see for himself. I mean, it could have been literally anybody. But fate wasn't so kind for him to be mistaken this time. It was you.
Your body looked bruised and drained, and at first sight, he instantly thought of Lestat, but your body showed no signs of struggle, and that was a big deal, considering it was hanging from a thin rope. It was damaging to swallow, but you had killed yourself, hanged from the tree you and him had carved your initials into, a wretched sight.
He would never forgive himself for that, even up to this day. You haunted his dreams, both the good and bad. That gleaming smile of yours…It brightened his day and made him mourn for the loss of what could have been if only he was brave enough…
Lestat had once again taken something precious from him, and like the lonely fool he was—is—he continued to remain by him…
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ash5monster01 · 3 months ago
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Hii! I’ve just seen a prompt that goes: “You don’t talk much.” — “I just really like listening to you, that’s all.” and it made me think of Todd Anderson ✨🥰 soo, if you could do something fluffy based on that prompt, it would be great
Enough For The Both of Us
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Pairing: Todd Anderson x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, blabbing, minor sadness, mentions of being shy, lack of friends
Summary: When getting partnered up for class, you’re desperate to make this mystery guy your friend. Yet maybe things work out a little better than that.
word count: 1k
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College was supposed to be fun. At least that’s what you thought. It had been two weeks and you had yet to make friends. Even your roommate had left you behind, finding a group she didn’t bother to include you in. It had become hopeless, that was until your English professor announced an assignment. An assignment that required you to partner up and work on for a full two weeks. A golden opportunity of guaranteed time to make a friend. Yet with just your luck the name placed beside your own on the list is not a female name. Instead you eye the suspicious lettering of a boy named Todd.
Yet you don’t falter, you take it with stride. Boys and girls could be friends right? At least not in your experience but you had also never tried. It didn’t help you went to an all girls school before this. Boys were new territory, something meant to explore once you made friends in college. You’d just have to do things out of order now, which you remind yourself of that as you start your trek to the school library. The very place you had agreed to meet this so called Todd.
He’s not hard to find, a blonde boy with shy eyes who raises a sheepish hand to flag you down. You shuffle towards him immediately, dropping your school books as you sit in the seat beside him instead of across from him. The action makes him blush while you pull out the assignment from class. “Hi Todd, it’s nice to meet you. I’m excited for us to start working on this project together”
“Y-yeah. Me too” the boy stutters, eyes never quite meeting your own as he turns to face his own work on the table.
“I was thinking we could be friends Todd. I need a friend around here and the person forced to work on a project with me is better than any” you tell him, filling in the conversation where he lacks. You figure with his shy nature he won't put up much of a fight. Perfect.
"Okay" he sounds uneasy but you don't give him much time to think about it as you finally organize all the papers in front of you.
"Not to say I'm not cool or anything. I'm really cool, I just haven't found the right crowd around here yet. If I'm being honest I was kind of upset I wasn't partnered with another girl. Not that a boy is bad but it would be nice to have a girlfriend first to talk to about all the boy stuff. Like you're cute, but I couldn’t tell you that" you ramble, not even a semblance of vulnerabilty as you speak. That's why Todd stares at you with such awe, shocked at how easy it is for you to communicate and not regret it after. He had been better, no longer the meek boy he once was, fading like a dying flame but he also was no where near the level of confidence you were.
"You just did" Todd points out, the tips of his ears burning red as he tries not to dwell on how pretty you are. He had thought it had to be some curse that the beautiful girl he couldn't stop staring at in class somehow got partnered up with him.
"I guess you're right, well either way I'm sure you have some guy friends and get what I mean. It's not like we can share every detail of our lives with each other, it's unnatural. We're so different" and as much as Todd wants to disagree, having only been surrounded by boys his whole life he would have to understand.
"Different how?" Todd inquires, other than the obvious gender difference he wants to hear what this gorgeous girl had already deemed of him in only five minutes of her blabbing and him sitting here and silently listening. If he had the confidence of Charlie or Neil he would’ve asked you on a date already, stopped this silly friend train because there was no way he could possibly be friends with someone who looked like you.
"Well you know, boy, girl. I'm outgoing and you're, well you're just sitting here" you say with a serious look that has a laugh escaping Todds lips and betraying him. The minute the sound reaches your ears his face is as red as a tomato, but she only finds the boy impossibly cuter. Curse you for all this rambling about being friends when you really should've been flirting this whole time.
"Okay" Todd agrees after a moment, nodding his head along and trying to look away before you could see just how red his whole body was from this simple conversation with you. To think you hadn't even started working on a project yet.
"You don’t talk much" you state, looking at him with suspicous eyes and trying to understand the entirety of him. What a mystery this boy was.
“I just really like listening to you, that’s all” he finally says with a slight confidence you hadn't thought him capable. The shock of his words makes your nerves buzz inside you. You knew you could talk to much but to have someone speak so fondly of it was different. Mainly you were picked on for never holding your tongue and instead a boy had complimented you on it. A cute boy at that.
"So I haven't annoyed you yet, scared you away?" You ask curiously, hoping he won't say he was just messing with you. It was possible he could still up and leave, request another partner, and you had humiliated yourself.
"The opposite actually. It's nice being around someone who talks enough for the both of us" the sentence reminds him of Neil, a sad smile painting his features as you let the words wash over you. The most he had said directly to you since you had sat in this seat.
"Than this partnership might just work Todd" you grin and he blushes again, liking you hadn't used the word friend. Especially now that he wanted to be much more than your friend.
"Agreed"
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peskellence · 1 year ago
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Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed
Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Masterlist
Read on AO3 here:
Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?
Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut
Word Count: 4.1K
Gavin Reed arrived at the Police Station forty-five minutes late. It would be diplomatic to say that the detective took a 'relaxed' approach to timekeeping. In reality, he couldn't give less of a shit.
Removing his sunglasses, he seated them in his front pocket. An action he regretted almost immediately. The bright fluorescence of the station's lights assaulted his eyes, and the dull throbbing pain in his temple increased tenfold. As he groggily sauntered past the desks, a familiar voice chirped up to greet him:
"Weren't you radioed like an hour ago? How nice of you to grace us with your presence".
"Bite me, Chen"
Tina Chen, the officer in question, smirked at him playfully. A far cry from the despondent glares his colleagues usually greeted him with.
While it was entirely his own doing, Gavin would be remiss to admit that his lack of popularity wasn't isolating. Tina was one of the few people who could deal with his abrasive attitude, and for that he was endlessly grateful. Not that he'd ever admit it to her.
"I'm not the one you have to worry about", Tina warned. "It's the Captain who'll be doing the biting if you don't hurry up".
Gavin dared to glance at the Captain's office, and Tina's warning was quickly affirmed. Fowler stood to attention at the door, one of his hands balled into a fist as he repeatedly tapped the glass. He held up his free hand to flash his watch – a blatant dig at Gavin's tardiness.
"Shit..." Gavin leant himself against Tina's desk, desperately trying to steady himself. Dealing with Fowler was bad enough, but doing so with a hangover was akin to torture. "If I don't make it out of here, sprinkle my ashes on the floors of Bronco Bar".
Tina scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You wouldn't be in the shit if you'd gotten to work on time."
"I wasn't exactly in a rush. This case they've assigned me is bullshit" 
"I'm sure it isn't".
"It is," Gavin asserted, scowling bitterly. "'Android hate crime'. I mean, how the hell is that my department? I don't get why this hasn't been assigned to Anderson and his fucking tin-can".
Tina flinched, her eyes darting nervously to the android Officer sitting a few desks away. "Gav, enough with the 'tin-can'. You can't say shit like that anymore".
"And why's that, exactly?" Gavin demanded, throwing up his hands. "Because President Warren has decided that we all need to kiss and make up? Spare me".
"Don't be such an asshole".
"Why break the habit of a lifetime?".
The banging on Fowler's door increased, to which Gavin groaned. He began dragging his feet towards the office at a torturously slow pace. When he finally arrived, he could practically smell the contempt radiating off his superior. He didn't even bother asking Gavin to sit, immediately launching into his tirade:
"Just once, is it too much to ask that my men arrive when they are goddamn asked to?".
Gavin shrugged his shoulders, helping himself to an available chair. "I got held up in traffic on the way here".
"Don't spin me that bullshit. Did you even bother reading the assignment brief we sent you?".
"Damaged android. Apartment 14D Hartwell Tower" Gavin mumbled, unenthused "I skimmed it,".
"Murdered, Reed. Not damaged", Fowler clipped, seething with annoyance. "In what looks to be a targeted attack. Forensics have already been dispatched to the location. I want you there fifteen minutes ago".
"Why do I have to deal with this bullshit?" Gavin complained, "Get Connor or one of his pals to do it. My department is homicide".
Fowler's entire face seized up. It looked as though a vein might burst through his tightly knotted brow. "This is a homicide. Now do as your told. That's an order".
"Don't start giving me that – This isn't a homicide because no one's been killed. It was a fucking machine".
"That kind of talk might have flown last year, but it sure as hell doesn't fly anymore" Fowler pointed his finger to Gavin in an authoritative manner. "Between you and Anderson, I could write a bestseller: 'Dumbass Detectives and Their Dumbass Disciplinaries'".
Gavin sank back a little but refused to give up. He gave his Captain a cold look, hardening his jaw defensively. "You don't buy into this crap any more than the rest of us. A machine being destroyed isn't the same as a person losing their life. They are completely different".
"It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is that the law would disagree with you, and as an officer of the law, you'd do well to keep your mouth shut".
The finality in Fowler's tone informed Gavin that the discussion was over. He was right, of course. In just a few months, the legal status of androids had shifted astronomically. What had been acceptable less than a year ago would currently be grounds for swift reprimanding - or even dismissal.
No matter how much Gavin tried, there was no getting out of this. At least for now, he would need to demonstrate some level of cooperation.
Fowler seemed contented by the victory over his mouthy subordinate. Some of the tension released from his shoulders, and he leaned back in his chair.
"If you're done with your tantrum -", he said condescendingly "We have assigned an android officer to assist you on this case. Consider it the next step in your tolerance boot camp".
Fowler looked over Gavin's shoulder and made a motioning gesture. Gavin could hear the door slide open, followed by the tap of footprints on tile floors, drawing towards him.
"This is RK900. I'm sure you've already met".
Gavin turned around reluctantly and was immediately accosted by a set of disturbingly bright, intense eyes. RK900 was identical to Connor in almost every way, except it was far more physically imposing. With long legs and broad shoulders, and generally sharper features.
"Yeah, we've met", Gavin replied, making zero attempt to disguise the resentment brimming in his voice.
RK900 cocked its head, LED flicking from blue to yellow. It wasted no time studying Gavin, eyes raking up and down with unwavering scrutiny. Its previously neutral expression morphed into one of cold judgement.
"The fuck are you looking that?" Gavin demanded, to which RK900 wordlessly blinked its eyes, never once letting up. Eventually, it did address him, but only after an uncomfortably long period of silence.
"Apologies, Detective. I was determining how you might have arrived at the precinct this afternoon. Your blood alcohol content is 0.5 times over the legal limit".
Gavin felt his cheeks heat up. He was overcome with a sudden, all-consuming desire to punch the android square in the face. "I took a cab, you plastic asshole".
"My sensors indicate that you are lying", RK900 responded, its tone staunchly neutral. "It is not safe for you to operate a vehicle in your current condition. I am surprised you were not involved in an accident".
Gavin narrowed his eyes, stepping towards RK900 aggressively. "If you don't shut your mouth, you're going to be the one in a fucking accident".
"Enough, Reed", Fowler demanded, to which Gavin ceased his advance. He looked to the floor, feeling utterly despondent at his current situation.
Working with an android was bad enough, but RK900 was the worst of the worst. Gavin wondered how he could possibly get through this without losing his sanity. Not to mention his badge.
"You've been assigned your case and you have your address. Now, get out of my office before I fire you both".
Gavin let out a frustrated grunt as he stormed out of Fowler's office, slamming the door behind him. RK900 nodded to the Captain respectfully before following suit and leaving the room. 
Despite the former's best efforts, RK900 soon matched Gavin's stride. As it walked alongside the Detective, it carried itself with near-flawless composure. "I suggest we take an automated dispatch vehicle, or you allow me to drive. I would rather we make it to the crime scene in one piece".
Gavin struggled to hold his tongue, "Do whatever you want. Like I give a shit. Just don't expect me to stroke your dick because Fowler wants me to play nice".
"I had no expectation that your cooperation with me would involve sexual favours, Detective".
Gavin stalled in his movements as if anchored to the floor. His eyes blew to a comedic size, and he shot the android a look of disbelief. "It's a figure of speech, dipshit".
"Regardless, it seems wildly inappropriate for a workplace environment", RK900 chided, "We have an investigation to attend to".
When they eventually arrived at the crime scene, the entrance to the apartment building was swarming with reporters. One appeared to be feverishly badgering a Junior Officer, mic held a bare inch from his reddening face:
"Is it true that the victim is an android?" The reporter demanded, leaning as far as she could over the police-enforced barrier "– And that this attack is just one in a disturbing trend of recent crimes against android citizens?".
"I, uh, I -" The officer stumbled over his words, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "I don't think I'm supposed to talk about that...".
"Alright, leave him alone" Gavin quickly made his way over to the nameless officer, swinging an arm around his shoulder. He grabbed the top of the reporter's microphone, speaking into it clearly:
"The DPD won't be taking questions. Now I suggest you all beat it. This is a crime scene".
"The people have a right to know, Detective" The second reporter, an android, quickly objected. "Despite the recent declines in android-phobic attitudes, many still believe that we should be treated as second-class citizens: Do the police intend to take these crimes seriously? And to treat them with the same levity that they would for similarly brutal crimes against humans?".
"I said beat it" Gavin repeated, aggressively pushing the microphone away, "Fucking vultures".
The first journalist looked determined to persist before freezing as she caught sight of something over Gavin's shoulder. All colour promptly drained from her face, and she stumbled back on her stiletto heels. Her android counterpart looked equally perturbed, LED flitting to red before returning to normal. They exchanged a look before hurriedly retreating to a nearby news van.
Gavin looked around, confused, and the reason for the journalist's sudden retreat soon became evident. RK900 stood behind him, looming menacingly, with an expression that promised misery for anyone who dared challenge it. Its eyes were locked firmly on the fleeing reporters. Unyielding and unblinking, trailing their movements with disturbing precision. It wasn't until they were securely tucked in the back of the van that RK900 finally looked away.
"I suggest we make our way to the crime scene now," It said matter-of-factly. "We are wasting valuable time".
The nameless rookie, who Gavin still held firmly by his shoulder, began to tense under his grasp. He regarded RK900 with nervous anticipation, sweating profusely. Gavin could have sworn that he damn near fainted when the android finally addressed him.
The sensors in RK900's eyes flickered, LED whirring yellow, "Officer Lewis Andre, you appear to be unwell. Your complexion is sickly and pallid, and your heart rate is elevated."
The officer, who Gavin now knew was called Lewis, yelped pitifully in response. Judging by his skittish demeanour and overall softness of his features, Gavin concluded that he couldn't be much older than twenty. He was undoubtedly fresh from basic training and likely on his first assignment. 
What an assignment to stumble into,  Gavin thought to himself. The poor bastard.
Despite Lewis' blatant discomfort, RK900 refused to relent, continuing to scrutinise him "Your stress levels are indicative of emotional instability. I suggest that you fulfil your duties in escorting us to the crime scene and then excuse yourself so you may consult a psychiatric professional".
"Y-Yes, sir", Lewis stammered, meekly pointing a finger towards the rotating doorway of the apartment building. "The victim's apartment is on the second floor...He was an HR400, a former Traci. Went by the name of Jason".
"We already know this. Show us the crime scene."
The young officer nodded before hurriedly leading the way. Gavin trailed back, allowing the poor boy some space. RK900, unsurprisingly, did not show the same consideration. It kept a half-stride behind him at all times, monitoring him to ensure he didn't run away. 
Lewis was full-on trembling by the time they entered the elevator. As if terrified that RK900 would snap him like a twig for even the smallest act of insubordination. For all Gavin knew his fears were warranted. 
While Connor had his moments, he had always possessed a capacity for basic diplomacy. Namely, an understanding and appreciation for emotion. The fundamental difference with his successor was a ruthless cut-throat approach. As if its 'tolerance for human bullshit' meter had been permanently set to zero.
The elevator door dinged open, and Lewis bolted out with visible relief. "Through this way, Sirs".
He led them to Apartment 14D, the police caution tape making it immediately apparent that they had found the correct location. The apartment door was slightly ajar, to which Gavin peered inside. The room was bustling with the movements of the attending forensic team. As he watched, he was blind-sighted by the sudden flash of a large camera.
RK900 nodded in satisfaction, reaching for the door handle. "Excellent. You may leave now, Officer Andre".
Lewis didn't need to be told twice. He scurried away at record speed, never once turning back. As the remaining two entered the apartment, Gavin regarded his android companion with disapproval. 
"You know, humans generally don't like it when you treat them like shit".
RK900 began to study its surroundings, hardly acknowledging that Gavin had spoken. It ran its hand across a drag-like mark by the entranceway, human skin giving way to mannequin white as it deftly analysed the indents.
Gavin made his own observations, noting the scattered magazines and streaks of blue blood littering the entranceway. There was also an upturned table thrown haphazardly to the side, evidence of a struggle.
"I believe I treated that officer fairly", RK900 asserted plainly. "If he cannot handle the pressures of high-stakes police work, he should reconsider his profession".
Gavin wanted to pin RK900 by its neck and strangle it mercilessly. If it never again made a condescending remark, he would have done his due diligence.
"I'm sorry that people don't pop out of the factory perfect and ready to go", Gavin spat back at the android, expression marred with disgust. "They need a chance to grow and improve. I wouldn't expect you to understand, but a little compassion wouldn't hurt".
RK900 gave Gavin a weak side glance before directing its attention back to the investigation. "That is an interesting assertion, Detective. Especially coming from yourself".
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?".
"It is odd that you, of all people, would assert the need to show kindness to others. Given your history of aggressive and inflammatory behaviour".
Gavin clenched his jaw, the remaining threads of his composure quickly slipping away, "I'm plenty nice, you prick. I just tell things like they are".
"Quiet, please".
Before Gavin could say anything else, RK900 had hunched down to examine a streak of blue blood on the floor. It scooped a sample onto its fingers before placing them into its mouth.
"Ah, Jesus" Gavin looked away, heaving uncontrollably. "Do you have to fucking do that?".
"It is necessary for the investigation."
RK900 licked its lips, removing any remaining traces of the material. It stood back up, smoothing any resulting creases from its well-pressed suit.
"We can see it's blue blood. You don't have to put it in your mouth".
"The data from my internal analysis can provide valuable insight into the case. Namely, it allows me to scan for traces with the same forensic profile".
Gavin threw up his hands. "Well, best of luck with that, because I can't see any more blue blood around. Can you?".
"As it happens, I can. Thirium evaporates after a few hours of air exposure. However, it can still be detected with the correct equipment - such as myself".
"Wow. I'm so impressed."
RK900 studied Gavin, taking note of his exaggerated tone and flagrant eye-rolling. Its lips pulled downwards into something resembling a deep scowl. 
"Your sarcasm does not elude me, Detective. I am also displeased with our current partnership, but rather than waste time with snide remarks, I suggest you listen to me so we may progress our investigation".
Gavin reeled back, surprised by the emotional charge in the android's response. "What did you say?". 
As soon as the android's anger had appeared, it quickly dissipated. Its eyes glazed over, and the lids flickered like frenzied camera shutters, signalling an analysis being completed. The dissonance between RK900's otherwise human-like appearance and its undoubtedly mechanical behaviour triggered something unpleasant in Gavin. 
"There is a trail. Leading from the entranceway and towards the back end of the apartment. The evaporation rate suggests that the attack was finished here".
When RK900 spoke in its zombified state, it was akin to the 'uncanny valley' effect that had plagued Gavin's early childhood. Like that one creepy Christmas movie where the characters looked real, but never seemed to move or behave as they should.
He wondered how CyberLife had succeeded in fucking up RK900's facial articulation so spectacularly. Unless the intention had been to make anyone who interacted with it insanely uncomfortable.
Gavin fought hard to maintain his bravado, folding his arms defiantly. "If the attacked finished here, smart guy, where is the body?".
RK900 looked to the ground and pointed its finger at a series of scrape marks. "The marks here are consistent with dragging a heavy object. It would suggest that the body was moved".
"Oh please, like anyone would be able to move one of those things! They weigh a ton -". 
"Detective Reed. RK900" A voice addressed them, putting an end to the discussion. Gavin soon recognised the voice as belonging to Colton Sanders – an experienced CSI officer who had assisted the DPD in numerous prior cases.
"Sanders, how the hell are ya?" Gavin greeted, reaching out a hand and clapping it on the older man's shoulder.
"I'm surviving". 
"Man, am I glad to see some good old-fashioned flesh and blood. So tell me, what are we looking at here?".
Sanders responded with a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose "Not a lot, I'm afraid. Or too much, depending on how you look at it. The 'droids have combed the place thoroughly, but there are so many potential DNA profiles that it will take us a couple of days to cross-check".
Gavin titled his head curiously "Why so many profiles?".
"I believe this will field your question" RK900 bent down, picking something up from the pile of scattered magazines. It looked like a tablet. Fortunately enough, the screen had already been unlocked. "The victim had recently viewed their electronic diary. It contains a list of names with corresponding dates and times. Document name is 'Clients'".
It took Gavin's mind a minute to catch up, and then he remembered. What Officer Lewis had said outside about the victim's model number.
He barked out a cruel laugh before shaking his head in disbelief. "The android retired from the Eden Club just to wind up becoming an escort? That's fucking priceless".
"Yeah, so with the volume of 'clients'", Sanders used his fingers to make an awkward air-quote gesture. "You can only imagine how much we've got to work with".
"The blacklight is working overtime today" Gavin snorted as his own juvenile statement, before continuing, "Would explain the lack of forced entry".
Gavin placed a hand on the front door which was noticeably intact. Save the police-issue hacking device affixed to the lock. "Seems like our culprit posed as a customer".
"There was another possible point of entry - ", Sanders explained. "But it was more than likely it was a point of exit".
"Where would that be?".
"The window in the bedroom was left wide open. It couldn't have been opened from the outside, but there's guttering that the perp could have used to shimmy down".
"Anything on the drainpipe?".
Sanders shrugged his shoulders. "Can't say, I'm afraid. It's been raining cats and dogs all day, so any DNA evidence that might have been there is long gone".
"It only started to rain heavily at 2:34pm this afternoon", RK900 corrected. "With this in mind, and by comparing the dating of the Thirium traces that I have analysed, it would be safe to assume that the crime occurred approximately 2 hours ago".
"Well yeah, that does line up with the witness reports..." Sanders agreed, "Neighbours started calling the police around lunchtime, citing a domestic disturbance".
RK900 returned its attention to the tablet, swiping the screen a few times before gesturing for Gavin and Sanders to come and have a look.
"With our current time-frame in mind, our culprit is most likely a scheduled client by the name of 'THOD GRAWS".
"I doubt he was stupid enough to use his real name", Gavin clipped back. 
"It is highly improbable, but it will be interesting to see if any of the DNA profiles collected match our criminal databases. There is a possibility that we may find someone known for using the same, or a similar, alias".
"Instead of dicking around with dead leads, how about we check out the body?" Gavin rolled his eyes and turned himself back towards Sanders. "Mind showing us the way?".
"Sure thing...", Sanders agreed, "I'm warning you though, it isn't pretty".
Gavin tutted in dismissal, "The victim was an android. How bad can it be? No blood, no guts, no smell. Come on, Colt, I'm a big boy. I can take it".
Sanders nodded, looking a little deflated. He led the two further into the apartment, towards the bedroom. He hesitated slightly as he turned the doorknob before pushing forward.
Entering the room, the first thing that became apparent was a message scrawled on the adjacent wall, written in black marker pen:
SUCKS COCK IN ANDROID HELL.
"Charming", Gavin mumbled, examining the letters. "We've got a real wordsmith on our hands".
"Detective," RK900 said firmly, demanding Gavin's attention. He followed its gaze to the east side window, and that is when he saw it.
The android was naked. It was strung up on the curtain rail, hands out to either side, forming a T shape. There was a large laceration across its stomach, and it had been mutilated from the waist down. Its eyes had been removed, leaving nothing but two hollow sockets. 
Underneath the window was a bed, which had been stripped of its covers, leaving nothing but a blue-soaked mattress and a series of Polaroid pictures.
Gavin felt his heart sink as he tried to comprehend what he was looking at.
"Jesus fucking Christ", He muttered, unsure of what else to say.
Sanders hummed in agreement before bowing his head in respect "Yeah, whoever did this was one twisted fucker. You might want to take a look at those photos".
Gavin did as directed, and the uncomfortable sinking in his chest only increased. The pictures told a grim story, showing detailed snapshots of the mutilation process. Had it not been for the blood and greyed-out LED, the man in the picture could have been mistaken for an average person. Their postmortem expression seemed to be trapped in a look of perpetual fear. The brow was tensed, and mouth opened, cheeks stained with freshly-shed tears.
Gavin dropped the photos as if they burned to the touch. He had to take a long, calming breath before re-addressing Sanders, "Any luck finding its eyes and...you know...".
Sanders shook his head sadly. "Looks like the guy must have taken 'em. Like a sick prize or something".
Gavin turned to RK900, curious to see what it made of all this. He found the android standing at the wall parallel to the bed, staring intently.
"There is another message", It informed Gavin, not once turning away. "Written in Thirium".
"What does it say?" he asked. 
RK900 paused for a moment, the processing yellow of its LED flitting to red before returning to normal. It slowly read out the message:
I KNOW YOU CAN READ THIS. I WILL NOT REST UNTIL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU FILTHY MACHINES IS RIPPED APART. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT SCRAP.
Gavin fell uncharacteristically silent. The weight of RK900's words hung uncomfortably in the air. Sanders appeared equally disturbed, lips pursed together tightly.
"This is not the first time our culprit has acted violently towards androids", RK900 warned, " - and it certainly will not be the last. If we do not apprehend them soon, I anticipate there will be many more victims".
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ghoulphile · 8 months ago
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here, queer, a lil stoned, and with ghoul rot q/a
do you lean more towards the ghoul be fuckin head cannon or the 200 years of celibacy head cannon? personally i like both but in my opinion post war coop is low key a slut.
if the tv show ever ends up with a season in the commonwealth/goodnieghbor do you think we'd get a live action John Hancock? who's your dream hancock actor? (if you have one)
fav ghoul/coop headcannon?
ps im glad you and your wifey are ok! i really hope yall were able to still enjoy the long weekend!
──★ ˙🍓 ̟
do you lean more towards the ghoul be fuckin head cannon or the 200 years of celibacy head cannon? personally i like both but in my opinion post war coop is low key a slut.
i like both and i def see the thoughts of celibacy (man was in a hole in the ground for some odd years lol) but i do lean more towards him fuckin.
now there's no tender kisses or sweet nothings. just a quick and dirty tumble that leaves you soaked in sweat (maybeeee some regret) as he satisfies urges and nothing more. it would take a whole lot more than that to get him to open up.
if the tv show ever ends up with a season in the commonwealth/goodnieghbor do you think we'd get a live action John Hancock? who's your dream hancock actor? (if you have one)
as much as i would love-love-love to see a live action hancock!!!! i don't know if we will :/
i remember reading somewhere that bethesda has been approached many times to make a live-action fallout and they were never satisfied with the ideas pitched to them.
what made this time around different is that it was a fresh idea set in the same universe which tells me they prefer to have an original story opposed to a re-hash of one that's already been told.
that said, i think it would be amazing to have cameos from the games and i think a lot of people would love it too so i hope they consider throwing us a bone lol.
you know i've never thought about it before, but off the top of my head, i think tom hardy, sam reid or jacob anderson (do not look @ me rn i am going thru it with interview with the vampire ok?!? but they are both fantastic actors), boyd holbrook, james mcavoy or oscar isaac.
there are some others but i cannot for the life of me think of their names rn 💀
any faves for you??
fav ghoul/coop headcannon?
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm 🤔
there’s a lot but ig one of my personal coop hcs (that kind of relates to barb) is that he’s more in love with barb than she is him — not that she doesn’t love him or rather didn’t at one point in time!! but more so she fell out of love with him while he was away at war and by the time he came home, she had already mourned him and moved on. (i.e. the convo where she talks about how she waited every night for news on whether he was alive or not, how she always seems startled by him touching her, how she hesitates to kiss him back etc etc)
and as fallout is based off the 50s divorce was a big no no, so have a baby bc that’ll make everything better (it doesn’t).
another hc attached to that is coop was injured at the battle of anchorage (his talks with bud about the power armor etc also i think i read somewhere that he was honorably discharged too but idk if that’s canon-canon) and was possibly even MIA for a bit which forced her to mourn him and their relationship. only to then be faced with him coming back home very much alive… and she’s not in love with him anymore but can’t leave so she has to make do.
because that man is in love with her so much it’s sickening!!! heart eyes!!! touch is his love language!!! he’s willing and ready to drop everything as soon as he sees her. whereas the first time i was introduced to them as a couple in that scene by the crafts table, and it was revealed that they were married i went oh, he’s into her more than she is him. here he is loving on her and she kind of pauses, hesitates as she decides what to do before ultimately leaning in to give him a quick peck back. and from there on out he’s the one initiating the intimacy. reaching out. and she always seems so thrown off by it when he CLEARLY loves her. idk i’m rambling sorry this got so long lmao.
anywayyyy thank you!! she ended up pinching a nerve in her lower back while riding her motorcycle and couldn’t walk 💀 but the er got her sorted so we were able to relax today 🥰
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roughandroudyways · 10 months ago
Text
I Love You So | Poussey Washington x Nyomi Anderson (OC)
| This is chapter one on my series, please make sure to read the official OITNB warnings before proceeding with this series!
MASTERLIST for this series!
Chapter hyperlinks!
0, 1, 2
AN OVERWHELMING SENSE OF GUILT hit Nyomi as she walked up to the parked white minivan, suddenly regretting all her choices up to this moment. She assumed that was what the CO's of this place wanted to happen - the higher ups designing the place to have that effect. However, she just couldn't push the feeling down.
Once the doors of the van were opened, she quickly took her seat next to a woman who sat... Bored? Nyomi hoped she wouldn't be sat here long enough to get bored like her, silently sending God a prayer in her head. She hadn't even realised she was staring at the poor woman until she turned her head, sending Nyomi a harsh glare, causing her to look away and hug her bag close to her chest.
Nobody in the van spoke, the woman in the front focused on her magazine with her sunglasses sitting comfortably on her face - she looked to be ready for a wait, which didn't send Nyomi much reassurance.
However, another woman soon joined them - a black hair poised woman, who seemed much too full of class to be joining them. The older woman took a seat beside Nyomi, sitting comfortably before beginning to talk.
"My jacket is itchy," she said, pulling at her jacket, causing her bags to hit against Nyomi as she did - evoking a reaction from the girl beside her.
"Yo stop that, you're hitting us." The girl to Nyomi's left quipped, kissing her teeth before looking straight forward again, shaking her head.
"And this will be where you'll be staying," Morello said, showing me inside this cube-like cell, three bunkbeds sitting against the wall, three elderly ladies currently sitting on their bunks, "bunk give is yours," she said, pointing at it before walking off.
"Don't take it personally," one of the older ladies stood, taking my bag and placing it on the bottom bunk, "the races stay separate here - like the old days, only less 'hatecrimey'. She won't help you like she did the other girls."
Nyomi smiled kindly at the woman, thankful for her advice that she assumed would already help her, "Thank you," she replied, nodding her head, "I'm Anderson."
"Of course sweetheart," the woman replied, holding out her hand, "I'm Irma, them two ladies are Taslitz and Jimmy."
I nodded, "Nice to meet you all," I said, shaking Irma's hand.
Irma then sat down, causing Nyomi to go to do the same before an alarm went off, causing the three to stand up by their bunks, which Nyomi followed and did the same.
"It's count," Taslitz said simply, seeing the confusion on Nyomi's face, "don't sit down until we do."
A few seconds later, a guard came in, clicking his counter four times before leaving and going to the next room. Following him were two other guards, who both did the same.
After count was dinner, so Nyomi followed them to the lunch hall and watched them make their way to a long line, hesitantly following them and finding herself a few people behind. Looking around the hall, the girl quickly noticed how decided the room way, cliques forming at tables, the only dividing factor being race - Irma was right.
Receiving her tray from the hispanic ladies serving dinner, Nyomi was quick to smile at the woman serving, offering a thank you befote going to find a place to sit. Not wanting to assume she was welcome to any of the cliques, she found a seat at an empty table at the back corner of the room.
Beginning to eat silently, a woman set infront of Nyomi, causing the girl to take ahold of her tray, expecting the woman to tell her to move. However, she didn't, instead she placed a toothbrush, bar of soap and toilet paper infront of Nyomi.
"Taystee sent me," the woman spoke, looking the girl up and down, "now you have to follow me."
Nyomi nodded, unsure what to make of the action - however, she quickly followed the woman with her tray when she stood, assuming it was the safest thing to do with the woman holding the same complexion as herself. The phrase 'the races stay separate here' from earlier repeating itself in her head - Nyomi didn't want to be on bad terms with the only people she had here.
Once they reached the table, Nyomi stopped, unsure where to sit so stood at the head.
"Sit next to Watson," one of the women spoke, nodding her head to an empty seat.
Nyomi did, placing her tray before sitting down, being mindful of keeping herself in her little bubble of space, making sure not to accidentally nudge either of the women now beside her.
"I'm Taystee," the girl continued, "that's Janae or Watson, that's Cindy - but we call her Black Cindy," she said, nodding her head to the woman who gave her the soap, "that's Suzanne and this is Poussey," she finished, wrapping her arm around the girl to her right.
LINK TO THE NEXT CHAPTER!
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papercutsunset · 1 year ago
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I am BEGGING for more context on how you got tricked.
Oh no! Tall order. You're going to regret this.
So, following the finale of A Future Uncertain, I had a bit of a morality breakdown surrounding Tiff. It wasn't the first time I'd had her do weird, kind-of-fucked-up shit in a fight, but it was definitely the first time I'd had her go that far and think nothing of it in the moment. Previously, she had done the following:
The Dreaming Mind, Episode 2: kicked a horse; got kicked by a horse; died (not really)
The Dreaming Mind, Episode 4.5: concocted and executed a plan to light a bunch of donkeys on fire
The Dreaming Mind, Episode 5: shot the Woman-Spider between the eyes with a dream gun; shot a horeagle in the neck (she knows horse anatomy); made Lewis take off his underwear because he was giving them bad luck
The Dreaming Mind, Episode 6: actively suggested that everyone kick Oneiron in the ribs; also:
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The Endless Forest: put her gun to Duke Reginald Winger's head, told him to eat her ass, and killed him
Violent Delights, Episode 2: Frisbeed a bomb to a bear
(Unholy Water isn't listed because I hadn't written/finished it yet.)
However, in the finale of A Future Uncertain alone, she:
Shot Chip Winger in the side
Jumped out of a second-story window, sprained her ankle, and shot Chip Winger in the ass
Kicked Chip in the teeth and kept his tooth
Watched Chip die
Tried to get shadow vored
Targeted Shadow Chip's crotch with a homemade flamethrower
Shot Centaur Lewis, whose head exploded
Tried to shoot a federal officer
(She's also, like... constantly calling people pussies and cucks, which I think is objectively funny.)
But the fact is that I was looking at these things in isolation, and not in the greater context of story and of Tiff steadily getting worse and more guilty as time goes on and things escalate (see The Awful, Lonely Fall and her conversation with Elton in Nothing But Bones: The Joker Goes To Tim Hortons).
These things are absolutely awful in a vacuum and without the context of what was going on. You have to remember, though: these teenagers are constantly in a fucked-up situation. The Woman-Spider was going to eat them. The horeagle was trying to stomp them to death on a mountainside (also, Lewis took off his clothes). Oneiron was trying to end the world, manipulating a fourteen-year-old, psychologically torturing a different teenager, and was also weird toward women in the past (which is something Tiff and Mark Croft talked about). Duke Reginald Winger was trying to kill Eddy for magic reasons (and also Tiff, presumably just for murder. She couldn't do magic then).
In AFU, Tiff had just been utterly betrayed by Chip. He tried to kill her at a summer camp, kidnapped her aunt and the Andersons and locked them in his basement with an Other One, kidnapped Percy and tried to sacrifice him, got in a vicious fight with everyone except Tiff (who was between dimensions), and tied Mary Mathew to her bed so he could kill her. It also came out (not to Tiff) that he was the one who brought Oneiron back in the first place. More than that, he was trying to end the world by bringing in an eldritch being and its shadow children from between dimensions. Her actions were justified, if a little uncouth.
Kicking a horse for no reason is pretty weird, though, even if it's just a dream horse.
Furthermore (and this is something I learned later, that Tiff didn't learn until the tail end of the This Godless Endeavor finale), there's no way Tiff could have killed Centaur Lewis. A handgun of the type she had can't make someone's head explode (lacks the kind of pressure typical to a shotgun, which will do serious damage to a melon), especially not at that distance. (She's also murderously afraid of horses. I don't know how much more clear I can be about that.)
This, however, did not stop the personal moral panic from setting in. I had, like, a full, several-day moral conundrum about whether or not this fictional character was a bad person, especially for the Lewis thing. Coming out of it, the joke became that Tiff would have to answer for her crimes and that New Greg was very upset with her.
Then it became real ("real"), since Cody decided to do a oneshot called The Trial of Tiff Sheridan. It's called that because he TOLD us it would be a trial.
As a part of this, he asked me which of everyone else's characters Tiff was closest to, presumably so they could be called as witnesses for her defense. She had only met Amy Bones once, so the answer was Mark for Jared; she was presumably close to Drake, given their relationships with Betty, their tendencies toward delinquent acts (and a background canon thing about a documentary), and their bonding over Ruth/Lester; she was presumably close enough to Eddy for him to ask her to go to prom with him (in a group, to be clear); and she would definitely be closer to Darius, who she did science bowl with, than Chuckles the shit clown or Sammas (who she never met, presumably for Darius reasons-- also because Sammas was missing for a while). That's why it was those specific characters.
I was fully prepared to have a defense prepared for Tiff that she wasn't going to use; instead, she was going to advocate for her execution. This did not happen. Cody pulled the wool over my eyes; she got a promotion.
See, this is where the old server would have come in handy. I would have been able to cross-reference messages instead of relying on my incredibly and demonstrably fallible memory. That's the gist of it, though.
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spunkpunx · 4 years ago
Text
I Don’t Share - Kai Anderson
Plot: Reader is the only person who Kai Anderson ever really listened to.
Word count: 1899
Warnings: SMUT, Manipulative reader, Smoking, Blood, Aggressive Sex, Mocking, It’s AHS Cult so it’s gonna be dark, Misogyny
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I walked down the steps, into the basement. The place he dwelled. The dark web was a strange place, full of internet trolls, but something about Kai Anderson was different. Something in his words garnered attention, and now, it was time to find out.
“Hello?” I called out confidently. At this point in my life, nothing scared me, not even death, but my survival was important. After all, what could I achieve from beyond the grave? To be without fear is to be dangerous.
“Who are you?” a voice called out from the sofa. The man sat there was not the man I expected to see, and I was pleasantly surprised.
“Kai Anderson?” I queried, and he nodded. I had expected someone much less attractive, but Kai’s dark eyes, handsome face and fit body were all things that played into my hands. His eyes bore into me as I walked into the room and sat opposite him. he wore sweatpants, and his shoulder length hair was dyed blue.
“Answer my question, bitch,” he snapped at me, but I just looked at him disapprovingly, taking a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it. He glared at my lack of response, but I made sure to take my time before I replied.
“When a dog bites it’s master, they take it into the yard and put a bullet in its head,” I calmly spoke, resisting a smile at the taken aback expression on his face. The surprise soon turned into rage, and he stood up and grabbed me by the collar of my t-shirt, making me jump.
“I don’t even know you! No bitch will be the master of me!” Kai yelled, and I met his eyes with a level gaze. I gave him a look, a look of indifference, and he released me from his grasp. He stood above me.
“Sit down Kai, I’m not speaking to you until you sit.”
“Fuck off.”
I met his eye with a steely glare, and reluctantly, he took a seat the other side of the coffee table.
“Now, I’m (y/n) (l/n), and I came to see you because I need you,” I began to explain. Kai raised an eyebrow. “There’s something about you Kai, that shocks people, that commands attention, but you’re wasting it away sat sweating in this shitty basement.”
He leant foreword in his seat, starting to listen more attentively. It was almost too easy.
“Now I have a proposal, because I need you to realise your potential,” I continued, and he was captivated.
The cult had been running for just over a month. Of course, no one had identified it as what it was yet, but it was coming together as intended. When I first met Kai, I wanted to rile him up and let him lose to wreak havoc on the world, to scare people into action, but after speaking to him, I realised an intelligence more than I had initially thought. It was a waste not to push him forward into something on a national level. Of course, he had been harder to break than I first thought, but eventually I had had him wrapped around my finger using the only weapon women had against men, the weapon that sat between my legs.
Within the ring I took the position of Kai’s right hand and lover, his assistant, and it was widely assumed that I was abused and too love struck by our “Divine Ruler” to realise. As much as they admired him, they feared him. In reality, I was in control. Everything Kai had become was because of me.
I knew I had control at the first “pinky ritual”. As soon as our fingers made contact he dived into the first questions, but by that point I’d already won. He was angry, emotional, irrational. I’d got under his skin. It didn’t take long for me to turn the questioning round onto him, and soon he was spilling his guts to me. Everything about his parents, his brother and sister, every fear, hate, love and regret in his life he gave to me. We had sex and with that he’d given me all of his power.
Despite the impression that the rest of the cult held, Kai was ready to lick the shit off of my shoe if I asked. Of course, that didn’t mean I had absolute control. His ideas were his own, I just gave him a push in the right direction. After the killing of Bob Thompson and his gimp, I had pulled Kai’s mask off and kissed him, hard, to show my appreciation. He pulled our bodies closer together and when he brushed his finger across my lip I could taste the blood on it. From that point on, there was no better sight for me than a bloodied Kai Anderson.
“I don’t share Kai,” I stated, coldly, as he walked down into the basement. I had been sat on the sofa, waiting for him to return.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me,” I spat. “You’ve been upstairs fucking Mrs. Lavender,” I pointed out, referring to Meadow.
“There’s a reason,” he defended himself simply. “She needed to think I loved her so she’ll be willing to die for me. It’s exactly what you asked.”
“I don’t think you understand,” I replied slowly, opening my legs to reveal no underwear on beneath my skirt, and I noticed Kai’s next words catch in his throat. “You belong to me. To this.” I gestured my womanhood. He knelt in front of me on the floor, tracing his hands along my thighs, temptation in his eyes.
“No, I don’t,” Kai spat. I snapped my thighs shut and he pulled his hands away sharply. “I am the Divine Ruler,” he announced, standing to lean over me, taking my throat in his hand and squeezing slightly. I looked him back in his dark eyes coolly, daring him to do what he was threatening to do. Kai didn’t have the strength in him to kill me.
“I made you what you are.” I felt his grip tighten. “You’re nothing without me,” I croaked, my voice hoarse as he cut off my breath. His grip tightened more, and for a moment I almost considered he might go through with it. I saw a tear run down his face and then he let go. He dropped his head, tears running down his face, and I opened my arms to him. He dropped down to the sofa, next to me, falling into my embrace. He buried his head into my shoulder and sobbed, while I stroked his hair, shushing him.
“I’m sorry,” he almost whimpered. I pushed him down of the sofa, back on his knees in front of me, opening my legs. He sighed in appreciation, his eyes darkening with lust. As he reached his hand towards my leg I smacked it away.
“No, you have to beg,” I instructed. He looked up to meet my eye. There’s nothing more dangerous than a humiliated man, he had once said, but here he was, willing to get down on his knees in front of me and beg for my attention.
“Please, forgive me, (y/n). Let me touch you,” he pleaded pathetically. I leant forward and took his jaw in my hand, guiding his lips up to meet my own. He desperately leaned into the kiss, sitting up on his knees to pull us closer. His hand ran along my thigh and brushed across my heat, and when I didn’t pull away he rubbed the rough pad of his thumb against my clit before pushing a finger inside of me. I let myself moan against his kiss. He added another finger and curled them inside of me, swallowing my noises up with his lips. I pulled away from the kiss, panting.
“I want you to show me how much you hate me Kai,” I told him, and he removed his fingers from me, confused. I continued, pulling my shirt over my head leaving me in my bra. “Oh, I know you do. The way I make you feel confused, the way I treat you. I let you know how much of a piece of shit you are and you let me tell you that. What kind of man are you? You hate the way I make your prick harder than anyone else could,” I tease, reaching to grab his erect cock through his trousers. I pull my knees back, showing my full pussy out in front of him and that’s all he takes to snap. He stands up and pushes me down on the couch, kneeling himself between my knees before pulling his shirt over his head. It’s hard not to admire his muscular body. It’s no wonder he could get people to believe he was their god, he looked exactly like one. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, freeing his cock from his boxers and stroking it while looking at me.
“You’re right,” he told me harshly, grabbing my jaw and resting his thumb in my mouth so I kept it open. “I do fucking hate you.” With that he leant forward towards me and spat directly into my mouth. His harsh words were making me drip with lust. Without any warning he plunged his cock into my warmth, grunting and dropping his hands to my grip onto my waist and the flesh of my stomach. He pounded into me relentlessly, letting out small moans of pleasure. I panted, and when he hit a spot inside of me I let out a breathy moan. I felt a sting across my face, realising that he’d slapped me. He moved a hand to my thigh, pressing it back toward my chest. He growled as he hit my cervix, his hands heavy and his grip tight. Kai grabbed my throat and leant over my body to give the most bruising kiss, and as he pushed my legs back, his cock hit even deeper in me. I even whimpered as he mercilessly pounded into me, harder and harder. His kiss travelled, down my neck, and I felt him take the skin between his teeth, leaving bite marks. I took his head in my hands, fingers tangled in his hair, and I connected our mouths once more, tongues and teeth colliding. He let out another desperate moan. Even when he hated me I still controlled him. The room was filled with the sound of wet kisses and skin slapping. I felt the pleasure build and reached down to rub myself, reaching a shuddering climax and clenching around Kai. He let out a groan and swore, pounding into me faster, his thrusts sloppy. He pulled my bra down and grabbed onto my tits, desperately panting and he brought himself closer to finish. I could do nothing but moan and tremble as his thrusting overstimulated me. His breathy moans brought me to finish a second time, a wave of pleasure hitting me and making me shake again. Kai groaned, pushing himself balls deep inside me and spilling hot cum. He collapsed down on top of me and I let him rest his head on my chest, wrapping my legs around his waist and kissing the top of his head.
“I do think I could love you, Kai,” I murmured against his hair, and I had no reason to say it, but I truly meant it.
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rhinozilla · 3 years ago
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Detroit: Become Family 2022 - Prompt 3: Regret
@dbh-found-family
The downside: there was a very vocal group of androids who—a year after the revolution—still despised Connor for his actions as the Deviant Hunter.
The upside: Connor’s relationships among his fellow androids at the DPD’s 7th precinct had been steadily improving.
The downside: the very vocal group of androids who despised Connor had learned where he lived.
The upside: they learned two days later that Connor lived with a police lieutenant who had his back.
The downside: those two days in between.
The paint remover had a strong smell that burned the eyes and the throat, and Connor had insisted that he do the brunt of the work so that Hank wouldn’t be harmed by it.
DEVIANT HUNTER was messily spray-painted blue across Hank’s driveway, along with large, thick splashes of solid blue paint. Along the sidewalk in front of Hank’s house was the same blue paint, writing out the strong condemnation: OUR BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS.
Connor’s jaw was clenched tightly as he scrubbed at the paint staining the concrete. The vandals had been careful enough not to damage Hank’s car or the house itself, but the paint remover was requiring more forceful scrubbing on the concrete than he had anticipated. Still, it was slowly but surely beginning to fade. He would stay out here all day and night if he had to in order to erase the words.
Borrowing a pair of pants from Hank that were already stained with older paint and a faded t-shirt that was only suited for yard work, Connor was on his knees in the grass, protective gloves on his hands and a mask over his mouth and nose as he scrubbed at the stains. Although the inhalation of the remover fumes was not as dangerous to him as it would be to Hank, they were still airborne chemicals that he preferred not to have circulating through his ventilation system.
“Whoa, you’re making progress,” Hank announced himself, coming out of the garage with a hose to help rinse the residue into the gutter.
“Not enough,” Connor grunted, straightening up and rotating his elbow, where the repetitive motion of scrubbing for the past several hours had caused some of his gears and belts to cramp. “But I’ll get it all.”
Hank hummed, screwing one end of the hose to the faucet near the house before uncoiling the hose and walking the other end toward Connor.
“Yeah, the neighbor across the street has a residential security camera. She’s already volunteered any footage that might be helpful in identifying who did this,” he explained, reaching Connor before recoiling. “Shit, that stuff is strong.” He waved a hand in front of his face.
“Don’t breathe in too much of it,” Connor warned, blinking cleaning fluid from his eyes, where the stinging of the remover was agitating him.
“Right. Hey, back up a minute. Let’s give it a rinse,” Hank suggested.
Connor set aside his scrubbing brush, popping up off his knees and standing up. He backed up as Hank stepped forward, screwing on a nozzle to the head of the hose. Connor looked along the sidewalk and the driveway, and his shoulders sagged. Hank was being too generous in calling it “progress.” There was still so much blue to be wiped clean.
So much metaphorical blood.
He grimaced and looked away as Hank unleashed a jet of water on the sidewalk, rinsing away the remover solution and the paint residue that Connor had managed to scrub loose. Instead, Connor’s eyes wandered along the rows of homes across the street and on either side of the Anderson house. No other homes had been vandalized. No other properties looked like they had been targeted. There was no reason for them to be, and it only made all of this blue more noticeable.
His skin prickled with the uncomfortable sensation of being known, his location known, his identity known, his past known. Even though he had never been exactly hiding where he lived or who he was, there was a difference between existing and being perceived in such a…hostile way.
He didn’t like it…and he outright hated that Hank was wrapped up in it. If Connor hadn’t been here, then Hank wouldn’t be spending his day off cleaning paint off of his property.
Connor’s scanners could detect that there was no one in the windows of the surrounding houses watching him, but they easily could be…and it made his skin itch.
He looked away from his periphery, focusing on the areas that Hank had rinsed.
DEVIANT HUNTER.
OUR BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS.
He could still read it all so clearly. The biocomponents in his chest twisted, and his frame felt heavy at the futility of it all.
“Huh,” Hank tutted. “Might need to get some of that industrial grade paint remover. I got an old buddy who works in construction. I might give him a call—”
“I’m sorry,” Connor muttered.
“Nah, it looks like this stuff set overnight. Elbow grease can only do so much, even android elbow grease,” Hank waved him off.
“No, I’m…I’m sorry this happened at all. It’s my fault,” Connor said quietly.
Hank lowered the hose, frowning at Connor. “Hey, we don’t know whose fault this is, but we will as soon as we review that footage.”
Connor shook his head slowly, lowering his mask and folding his arms around himself. “But their hatred of me is causing you inconvenience. Your affiliation with me is causing damage to your property. If I wasn’t here…If I was staying somewhere else—”
“Hey,” Hank said bluntly, and he didn’t speak again until Connor reluctantly met his eyes. Hank’s gaze was firm and narrow back at him. “It’s paint, Connor. It’s no mess that we can’t clean up. Don’t get dramatic on me.”
“Do you regret being my friend?” Connor blurted, dropping his eyes to the sidewalk. “I mean, taking me in and subjecting yourself to this kind of malicious attention…I can’t blame you if you do, this is far more than you signed up for when you offered to let me live with you…Do you regret that?”
Hank was quiet for a long moment, and Connor was too paralyzed with the unpleasant sensation of anxiety to dare to look at him. He could only look as far as Hank’s shoes.
Finally, Hank took a deep breath.
“Do you regret being the Deviant Hunter?”
Connor whipped his head up and looked at Hank incredulously. Hank only raised his eyebrows.
“Do you regret what you did before you deviated? What Cyberlife ordered you to do? The pain you caused? Do you regret that?” Hank pressed.
Connor gawked at him, lowering his arms to his sides. “Of course I do. With every fiber of my being. But my remorse does not do anything to undo any of it. Why would you ask me that?”
Hank pouted his lips before shrugging. “I think we all screw up on the first chance that we’re given. In big ways, in small ways, we all screw up. I think you deserve a second chance. And as long as you regret the way you screwed up your first chance, then I have zero regrets in helping you with your second.”
Connor’s incredulous feeling turned thick with emotion, and it wasn’t cleaning fluid making his eyes burn this time. He hunched his shoulders and looked away.
“Maybe you should…”
A jet of hose water hit him in the hip. He squawked and jumped away a step, looking at Hank.
“Hey, what was that for?”
Hank just squirted him again with the cold hose water, this time right in the chest. “Android training.”
“Ack.” Connor held up his hands against the water attacks. “For what?!”
“Kinda like dog training. Sumo does something I don’t want him to, I’ve got a little spray bottle of water that I’ll spray him with until he learns. I was hoping the same wouldn’t apply with you, but if you keep spouting nonsense, then you’re gonna get sprayed, son.”
“Do you know how insulting that is? I’m—”
Another short jet of water hit him in the stomach.
“Hank, this is not dignified—”
“Then stop questioning my decision to be friends with you. God knows I tried to resist it, but you have been a good friend to me, so I’m returning the favor.”
Thoroughly soaked now, Connor spat out water and spread his arms. “How is this returning the favor?”
Hank just nailed him in the chest again. “I don’t know, but it’s fun for me at any rate.”
“That doesn’t even—”
Hank just kept hitting him with water from the hose, until Connor couldn’t help but surrender to the ridiculousness of the situation, and a helpless little laugh escaped.
The downside: the sidewalk was still stained.
The upside: Hank knew a guy with stronger paint remover.
The downside: Connor was thoroughly soaking wet.
The upside: he had learned his lesson about questioning Hank’s friendship.
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the-red-dragon-queen · 3 years ago
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Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Hellsing Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Alucard & Integra Hellsing, Alucard & Seras Victoria, Alucard & Walter Dornez, Seras Victoria & Original Character (Platonic), Integra Hellsing & Original Character (Platonic), Walter Dornez & Original Character (Platonic), Alucard (Hellsing)/Reader, Alucard/Reader Characters: Alucard (Hellsing), Seras Victoria, Integra Hellsing, Walter Dornez, Alexander Anderson, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Author - Character, The Author, Reader, The Queen (Hellsing), The Doctor (Hellsing), Rip Van Winkle (Hellsing), Schrödinger (Hellsing), Round Table Conference (Hellsing), Various Hellsing Characters Additional Tags: Hellsing Ultimate OVA, Hellsing Organization, Canon: Hellsing TV Anime, Reader-Insert, The Author Regrets Nothing, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Read by the Author, Evil Author Day 2020, Author Runs on Tea and Comments, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, It's fucking Hellsing what did you expect, There's a reason this anime is rated M for crying out loud, Alucard (Hellsing) is a Troll, Seras and the Reader are friends, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, so much swearing, Reader doesn't put up with Alucard's BS, American - Freeform, American Reader, Explicit Language, Action, Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Violence, Gun Violence, Aftermath of Violence Series: Part 4 of Anime Summary:
Okay, you know when I said "I wish I was there"? I DIDN'T MEAN THAT LITERALLY!!! There is QUITE a difference between seeing a Ghoul through a screen and seeing one IN REAL LIFE!! COME ON MAN!! Also, will someone PLEASE tell Fangface to knock that infernal smirk off his face before I do it myself? That'd be great, thanks.
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mnictasbcl · 4 years ago
Text
For you
For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:
June 11th: First argument- first making up @connor-sent-by-cyberlife
Rating: Teen
Characters: Connor, Markus, Hank Anderson
Relationships: Connor/Markus, Connor & Hank Anderson
Additional Tags: First fight, blood mention, Worry, Concern, Guilt, Argument, Injury, Not serious injury, Just ouchy, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, care, First aid, Mention of knife violence, Just a little stab, Making up, interface, Cuddles
Summary: Connor is self-sacrificial, Markus isn’t a fan of this, and they have their first argument.
Luckily, Hank is there to help and teach him a thing or two about relationships.
Story below! Or, read it on AO3
“But this isn’t the Revolution, Connor!” Markus raised his voice.
Connor shook his head, smearing a streak of thirium off his cheek. “I know it isn’t. That doesn’t mean I’m no longer useful.”
“That’s… not what I’m saying. You can’t just run off into situations like that without backup!”
“Yes, I can.” He stared at the ground. “That’s my job, Markus.”
“Some days it feels like that’s all you think about.”
He blinked. That wasn’t fair. He… his job was no longer his sole purpose, of course, but he was still good at being a detective.
“You know what? I—I did it for you.”
The emotions brimming to the surface, combined with the pain radiating from his side, became overwhelming. Connor looked over the other android one more time before suddenly turning, storming away from New Jericho. He thought he could hear Markus shouting for him in the background, but he couldn’t comprehend it anymore.
  _____________
 That had been his morning. Fear, the mission, completing it—and an argument. Now, he was walking down the streets of Detroit, thirium trickling down his side, only one destination in mind.
He rapped his knuckles against Hank’s door. It opened after a few moments, the man half groggy with sleep, but he quickly moved into action upon seeing the android on his doorstep.
“Connor? What’re you doing here? I thought you were spending the weekend with Markus.”
Connor sighed, moving inside, not quite ready to answer questions. He just needed to pull off his coat, take a long, hot shower, and think about things—
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
He startled at Hank’s curse. Oh, right. He’d taken off his coat, revealing the gaping wound in his side.
“Apologies, Li—”
“Don’t go back to that. Just- just sit down,” Hank grabbed his arm, manoeuvring him gently but firmly to the couch, “I’ll go get the first aid supplies.”
Connor sat down without argument, glancing briefly to the Lieutenant as he rushed off towards the bathroom to grab the supplies. He started to feel a little guilty, coming into the man’s home without forethought to call ahead, especially with an injury. The guilt swirled together with the stew of other emotions in his mind, and he groaned.
This didn’t make sense. It was… it was too much, there was no logical pathway to sorting through each thing, and—
He was broken out of his thoughts by a wet nose sniffing at his hand. He chuckled, allowing Sumo to lick his hand.
“Ugh!” Hank’s outburst upon coming back into the room was warranted. Connor had forgotten about the thirium staining his hand, which the Saint Bernard was now licking off with fever. “The pair of you are disgusting, god.
“Anyway, I’ve got the android skin glue stuff. It’s just a surface wound, right?”
Connor nodded. “It didn’t damage any internal components or processors. Just nicked a thirium line.”
He was glad that Hank didn’t question him further quite yet, instead getting to work on the wound. It was only once the bleeding (or thirium leakage) had been stopped, the artificial skin sealing back up, did he begin.
“So… what happened?”
“A suspect managed to outsmart me briefly, with a knife; however, I did succeed in apprehending them.”
Hank nodded. “Right. That’s… kinda not what I meant, son.” His tone softened. “How did this happen? You were spending the weekend with Markus at New Jericho, not doing work.”
Connor frowned. “Yes, but I’m never truly off the clock. There were reports of an anti-android suspect breaking into New Jericho. I stopped them.” His gaze trailed off. “I… We do have some people for that in New Jericho, but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Noting there was more to be said, Hank didn’t interrupt. Shortly after a few deep breaths, Connor continued.
“Word was that they were after Markus. It was unlikely they’d be able to get through the walls of security, but I couldn’t take that chance. They were going to take him away.” The ‘from me’ was left unsaid.
“So…” Hank began. “Is Markus okay, then?”
Connor nodded curtly. “Yes. He’s fine. They didn’t get anywhere near him.”
Hank frowned. “So why did you come here? Not that I don’t love seeing you. But they have much better android care back in New Jericho. And surely Markus didn’t let you walk away looking like that.”
“Is that an insult to my appearance, Lieutenant?”
Hank rolled his eyes. “Nothing wrong aside from the blue blood all over you.”
“That seems like an overstatement.”
“And it seems like you’re trying to distract me from the main topic.”
Connor sighed. “Astute as ever. Fine. Markus was… rather displeased that I suddenly went after the suspect myself, without waiting for any sort of backup.”
Hank groaned. “Of course you did.”
“But I had to!” Connor retaliated in defense. “I’m perfectly capable of taking down one… or two suspects. I was built for this. I took out multiple Cyberlife guards on the night of the Revolution, all fully armed.”
Hank patted his knee. “Look, kid, I don’t think anyone’s doubting your—”
“I’m not a kid.”
Hank took in a breath. “Maybe not literally. But you’re my kid.” That shut Connor up for a few moments. “Anyway. I don’t think me or Markus are doubting how good of a cop you are. But he was right. That’s a dangerous situation to go into alone. Maybe he was worried about you, too, just like you were worried about him. You don’t have any more bodies to hop into, Connor. This is all you got. You have to take it with more safety.” A pause. “Please.”
“Okay. Okay, I’m not disputing that.” He met Hank’s gaze briefly. “I just… I understand he was worried. I was worried. And I did take too many risks. But… I didn’t think this would end things.”
Now it was Hank’s turn to look confused. “What?”
“With me and Markus. He was really upset. He said, he said something like ‘the job is all I care about’. Or like that.”
“A fight isn’t going to end your relationship.” Hank laughed in shock, not unkindly. “You love each other. These things just happen. They’re not pleasant, no. I remember, with my wife…” A faraway look caught his eyes briefly. “We used to get into our fair share of disagreements. But they’re not what define you two. All that was behind your words was worry. And maybe you hurt each other with what you said. You just have to fix it.”
Connor took Hank’s advice in. It was… helpful.
“That makes sense. That… thank you, Hank.” He fiddled with the thick fur on Sumo’s ears. “So Markus doesn’t hate me?”
Hank laughed genuinely this time. “Of course not. In a different sense, do you think I hate you every time you go self-sacrificial on patrol?”
“Maybe not every time. I’d say there’s a 50-50 chance you show resentment after I make a… questionable work decision.”
“Well, I think Markus is a lot more patient than me. And I haven’t disowned you yet.” At Connor’s wounded look, he held up his hands. “I was kidding! Geez.
“Anyway, just… whenever you’re ready, go back over there. In fact, I can drive you anytime today. I’m sure he’s worried sick about you. Don’t want to turn that poor kid grey too.”
Connor laughed.
  _____________
 After showering and finding some clothes to put on, that weren’t stained blue, Connor accepted Hank’s offer to drive him back to New Jericho.
It was definitely the right decision. Not long after they’d pulled away from the house, Connor began to feel impatient to get back there. He’d left Markus alone after an argument, and after the whole threat on his life that morning. The suspects were stopped, but he still couldn’t help but worry.
Thus he was thankful when they pulled up at the location, thanking Hank with a grateful smile and promise to be back by Monday, before rushing out of the car.
Markus was no longer on the outskirts of the town, but he was sure he knew where he was going to be.
He was correct. Walking into the painting studio, he spotted the lone figure of his boyfriend at the far canvas, hands moving in the fluid motions of brush strokes.
Connor approached quietly, but perhaps his whirring yellow LED gave him away to the other deviant, who turned around at once, and seemed to breathe a large sigh of relief.
“Connor, you came back.”
He rushed over to Markus, stopping a couple of steps away from him. “Of course I did. I was just… visiting Lieutenant Anderson.”
“I could tell from the shirt.” He chuckled, gesturing to the baggy old DPD hoodie Connor was now wearing. “But… it’s a relief to see you. There were things I said, that…”
“I did too. I regret it. I don’t value my work over you or anyone else at all. I wasn’t thinking, shouldn’t have just ran out like that…”
“I know you don’t, Connor.” Markus agreed. “I wasn’t thinking either. What you did in the Cyberlife Tower, on the Revolution, with all those androids—it was amazing. So amazing it’s something you can really only do once. But despite the risk… you survived. And I’m so thankful for what you helped bring for our people. That was when I realised, I loved you.
“But that also means you need to be safe. We don’t have to take those kinds of risks anymore. Our people are free. There are, regrettably, individuals such as the attackers this morning who want to steal that from us. But we have the advantage now.” He stepped towards Connor, hand extending in an invitation to interface. “And I can’t lose you.”
Connor accepted the invitation, skin peeling back, white chassis visible and connecting to Markus in interface with a soft clink. He felt a rush of emotions, warm and fuzzy, and he sent back his own, some worry intermingling but overall, love and compassion.
“I can’t lose you either. But I promise, I’ll be safe.” He brought the connection away, arms moving this time to embrace Markus. “Safer, anyway.”
Markus chuckled. “You better be, Connor. Because if you get yourself killed, then I’ll kill you. And then I’m sure Lieutenant Anderson will kill you too.”
“And Sumo.” Connor added with a smirk.
“I don’t know, he seems too pure for that. But… whatever. Just don’t die.”
“Likewise.”
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lancearcherinrippedjeans · 4 years ago
Text
If You Seek Amy
***********
Starring - Kenny Omega, Karl Anderson, Doc Gallows and our wonderful OC, Veronica Rodriguez
Word Count - 2,055
Category - SMUT, tiniest bit of comedy, and a bit of fluff at the end
Pairings - Kenny Omega/OC
Summary - Kenny dragged Veronica out of the bar, the place he took her was DEFINITLEY unexpected, but the night ahead wasn't either.
Warnings - AHEM, SMUT, voyeurism, just the Good Brothers being themselves (insert eye roll)
other author's notes - this was all @adriii-omega's doing. and READ CHAPTER 2 FIRST
***********
all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy
On the other side of the bar was a smiling Veronica and half wasted Kenny Omega. “Why don’t we get out of here? It isn’t as fun as this place I know down the street.” Kenny whispered in her ear. They were sitting at two of the stools in the bar, his arm resting over her shoulders. She looked around and saw Nova and Sawyer playing a game of pool with Trent and Chuck Taylor. “They’ll be fine. If they get mad at you just tell them it was my idea.” he stood off his barstool and held his hand out for her to jump off hers. “Where exactly is this place Kenny…” she questioned him as he guided her to the doors of the bar. He smirked and let out a low chuckle, “You’ll see.”
“A STRIP CLUB?” She raised her brow in confusion. Kenny nodded. “I thought this would be a perfect place to…conversate.” His eyes wandered over her as she looked around at the activity going on. “Are you sure you’re just not here to watch half-naked women dance?” She crossed her arms, clearly uninterested. “What? No, no. It’s not like that at all.” He assured her before grasping her hand into his. “I just…”
“KENNY OMEGA?”
“IS THAT YOU BROTHER?”
Veronica and Kenny turned their heads in the direction the voices had come from. Two familiar bald men approached them and pulled Kenny in for a hug. “What the hell are you doing here?” The taller of the two had asked. Kenny searched for words before looking at you, and then back at them. He seemed to be talking with them using his facial expressions, and Veronica was having a hard time understanding. The shorter one-clicked his tongue before turning to her, “You must be Veronica. My name is Karl Anderson, and this is my tag team partner Doc Gallows.” Anderson smiled at her as he stuck his hand out for a handshake. She accepted it before he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. Over her shoulder, he sent a wink to Kenny making him roll his eyes, and Gallows to punch him lightly on the shoulder. She pulled away from him, knitting her brows in confusion.
“You guys could come over to our table, it’s just us by ourselves.” Doc had offered. Veronica was about to decline until Kenny had beat her to it. She sighed as she pulled out her phone to text Sawyer or Nova, until Kenny came beside her, and took it out of her hand. “Don’t go yet,” He begged, shutting her phone down before putting it in his jeans pocket. “You said you wanted to ‘conversate’ with me, but instead we’re following random men in a club.” She whispered-shouted. “They’re not strangers. I know how they are. They’ll find someone to entertain them within a couple of minutes.” He let her slide into the booth before sitting next to her.
“Where's your guys’ significant others?” Kenny had asked while resting his hand on Veronica’s lap. She looked over at him perplexed. “Oh, they’re back at the hotel with the kids.” Gallows had begun to explain. “So let me get this straight. Both of you have families and instead of being with them…you’re here why?” Veronica couldn’t help but ask. Kenny held back his laughter. Karl and Doc looked at each with a serious expression before bursting out laughing, “You’ve got quite the girl here Omega. Where did you find her?” Gallows asked as he wiped his eyes. Veronica squinted in confusion as a waitress walked over to their table. Her shirt pushed up her chest making Anderson and Gallows straighten up. “Is there anything I could get you guys?” she asked as she looked around the table. “Uhm…no, I think we’re good.” Kenny said blankly not looking directly at her, but trying to get her to leave as fast as possible. “Hey, you’re cute. You got a girlfriend?” She pushed up against the table trying to get his attention. Veronica bit her lip, forcing herself to try not to say anything. “You see…I actually-”
“I’m going to the bathroom.” Veronica slammed her hands on the table before getting up. The waitress moved to the side creating room for her. “Veronica, wait.” Kenny had begun to get up, before she pushed him back down. “Stay. I’ll be back.” She slid past him making him have to hold back his groan from how close she was to him. He kept his eyes on her till she disappeared around the corner to the bathroom. The waitress was still standing at their table batting her eyelashes, and getting closer. Kenny was beginning to get frustrated not just sexually but physically. “Look, I’m not interested. Go find someone else to hump.” He rubbed his hands down his face while she stood with her mouth open. She hid her head and made her way onto the next table.
“Wow, Kenny. Didn’t think you had it in you.” Gallows had spoken. “She was hot. Why didn’t you do anything?” Kenny adjusted himself before leaning back trying to ignore his erection. “Why would you ask such a dumb question, Doc. It’s obvious. He’s got the hots for another girl. Which I understand-” Gallows nodded in agreement. “Couldn’t you tell when she slid past him? He almost let out right there and then.” He joked, making Kenny bite the inside of his mouth. Gallows looked around making sure no one could hear him as he leaned closer to whisper, “Have y'all done it yet?” Kenny’s eyes widened. “N-No. I have only known about her for a week- she’s a coworker for now.” Anderson looked surprised as he glanced at Gallows.
“She’s worth it. Take the risk you brought her here for a reason man. Go for it, or someone else will.” Karl spoke. Kenny nodded, “I’ll be right back.” He slipped out of the booth and made his way next to the area where the bathrooms were.
“Dude, we’re terrible people.” Doc began to laugh, making Karl laugh as well. “We might be bad people, but at least we’re great best friends. We’re helping our boy get some action.”
“That’s not the only reason and you know it.” Gallows chuckled. “Kenny can’t be the only one getting any fun.” Karl shrugged, as they sat back and let their plan unfold.
Veronica had splashed a bit of water on her face before deciding to exit the bathroom. She had stayed there for several minutes looking over herself, and trying to figure out where she knew Gallows and Anderson from - it was at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t seem to quite memorize them. She exited the bathroom before someone pulled her into a dark room. She almost screamed until the light was turned on, and saw Kenny. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? I THOUGHT YOU WERE ABOUT TO KILL ME?!” She shoved him, making him grab the couch for balance.
“Where did you even drag me to?” She looked around and noticed the way the room was decorated. “Come here.” He ushered his fingers in a forward motion as she slowly walked towards him. He pulled her forward, and brought her into his arms. “I just wanted to make sure that we’re good. What happened out there was nothing. She was nothing. I do want to hang out with you, only you. It’s just us now.” She was a bit shorter than him, so he had to look down. “Veronica,” she hummed in response, making a knot in his stomach begin to form. “Do you trust me?” She looked up and nodded as she felt him begin to get hard up against her. She bit her lip, before connecting her lips to his. He felt around with one hand to find the couch, while the other began to slide down her back, and to her ass. He lightly squeezed her before making her sit on the couch. Kenny disconnected his lips from her making her groan in frustration, “You’re sure right?” He asked panting.
“You talk too damn much.” She pulled him back down letting their hands roam, he started to unzip the back of her (technically his) dress letting it fall down her shoulders. They fell back on the couch still connected as Kenny began to grind his hips into hers. Her hands slid down to find their way to his pants. She unzipped them quickly, attempting to slide them off. “I got it, don't worry.” he mumbled while leaving bites on her neck. She could feel herself turn into a puddle as he teased her entrance. “Take your dress off now,” he ordered, making her pout. She wiggled the dress off letting it hit the floor making Kenny take the rest of his clothes off in a rush. She topped him before being flipped over, and having her hands pinned above her head. She felt him slowly begin to enter her before the door was opened then quickly shut again. She nearly jumped out of her skin until Kenny rammed into her with no warning making her gasp. “I think- oh my god. That feels so good.” She breathed out. In the corner of her eye she saw two shadows watching them , but then she shut them again , because the pleasure was way too good right now. Each stroke made her feel closer and closer, and Kenny as well. About 45 seconds later she began to hear mumbling...
“This is way better than porn hub.”
“It’s like watching a Broadway performance, shit I don’t think I can last that much longer Gallows.”
Kenny pulled out, making Veronica turn to the side and release, making someone curse at the other side of the room. “That was…” Kenny tried to catch his breath, until he saw his two friends with their dicks out leaning on the wall. “WHAT? GALLOWS? ANDERSON?”
“I knew someone else was in here.” Veronica shot up immediately regretting it as she now had the image of them together naked, in her brain. “Oh hey Kenny.” Gallows waved as he zipped his pants back up. Anderson sat next to Veronica before she quickly jumped up. “I thought you guys left? WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Kenny tossed Veronica his shirt before pulling his boxers back on.
“Well when we first came we weren’t looking for that much, but then ran into you, and we just knew the sex between two attractive people is something we couldn’t miss.” Karl smiled as Veronica looked at him with disgust, “You know now that I think about it- we basically had a social distancing orgy.” Gallows chimed in, making Anderson nod.
“Yea…. I’m out.” Veronica picked up her dress and exited the room.
“If the sex is that good all the time, I would never leave my house.” Gallows told Kenny as he looked at his friends with disbelief. “Don’t let someone like her get away because of guys like us. You’re Kenny Omega. Tie that down.” Karl patted Kenny on the back before reaching back to his dick. Kenny quickly turned around, “See you later guys,” and shut the door making his way back outside.
“Are you going to get back home safe?” Kenny asked as they walked down the street back to the bar. “For the hundredth time, yes.” she laughed. Her dress was sloppily back on her body with Kenny’s shirt hanging over. “Oh- here you might need this.” He reached into his back pocket and handed her her cell phone. She reached to grab it before he held it over his head, “You got to get it from up here though.”
She rolled her eyes before she stretched her arm to grab it. When she was inches Kenny grabbed her arm , and connected their lips dropping the phone in her purse. “I’ll see you later, Kenny.” Veronica smirked as she pushed hair out from his face. Kenny waved as she walked to their rental car still sitting in the parking lot.
She turnt the car on and “If You Seek Amy” by Britney Spears blasted on the radio station. She smiled as she looked over at the clock. The time read 2:45 AM in bright red letters. “God … what am I going to tell Sawyer and Nova?”
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ahem, hope you enjoyed you filthy animals.
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azems-familiar · 3 years ago
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'mass effect post ending shit' for the WIP game? It sounds interesting.
(Also, thanks for tagging me, but I currently have only one saved WIP and it is titleless)
The child - the catalyst, the intelligence, whatever he - it - is - looks up at Shepard with eyes devoid of anything childlike and gestures with one hand to the path in front of her, as though it’s the entire galaxy spread out before them, as though this isn’t the end of everything she’s been working towards for three years now, as though this isn’t the death she’s been running from since she was sixteen and choking on her parents’ ashes, terrified out of her skin and knowing the only way forward was to fight. She’s been fighting her whole life, on Mindoir and on Akuze and on too many worlds since then to count; the Normandy was supposed to be a break from all the action, even though it likely wouldn’t have been much of one with the upcoming Spectre candidacy. It wouldn’t have been much of one, but still - if not for Saren, if not for Sovereign, maybe it’d feel less like she hasn’t had a moment to just rest since her first deployment. God, she’s so tired sometimes it feels like it’s all she can do just to breathe under the weight of all that exhaustion, all the expectations the galaxy has heaped upon her since the beginning, since she was the only one bothering to listen to the warnings of a race fifty thousand years dead.
Two years in a braid-dead coma, six months under house arrest on Earth forced to sit and wait knowing certain doom was coming and the galaxy was ignoring it - neither of those really count as rest. And a handful of stolen days with Kaidan in Anderson’s- in her apartment (not Anderson’s anymore, and not likely to be hers after this, even with the Citadel rebuilt and restored) are nowhere near enough, not when the entire galaxy rests on her shoulders, no one else willing and able to unite it and fight for it when it matters most.
Kaidan.
Shepard doesn’t have many regrets, how can she? But the thought of her partner, the look of utter devastated desperation on his face as Liara pulled him onto the shuttle and away from her hand - it twists and burns somewhere in her chest, a shard of metal lodged in her heart, aching every time she breathes. (Or maybe that’s the shattered ribs.) Don’t leave me behind, he’d begged, in some kind of horribly broken tone she’s never heard anything like from him before, and damn it all to hell but she can’t quite stop thinking about it. Can’t stop herself from being glad, in some twisted way, that he’s not here at the end, because she’d thought it before the suicide mission through the Omega-4 relay too - she doesn’t mind dying to save the galaxy, not as long as he’s in it. Safe and alive to find some kind of life out there, without her. He still has so much of his life spread out before him; she’s been cheating death since Akuze, maybe even since Mindoir, and it’s only inevitable that it should come for her now.
There’s blood dripping down her arm. Shot in the shoulder, maybe, although the only one she can really feel now is the gut wound that still hasn’t closed up, even with all the pressure she could put on it, staining the ruined remnants of her hardsuit and her blacks with crimson. The pain pulses through her with every too-shaky beat of her heart, and there’s a dizziness making it hard to keep her feet and fuzzing out the tableau in front of her into indistinct, soft-edged surrealism. Maybe this is all a dream, a nightmare she’ll wake up from as soon as she makes her choice - maybe she’s safe in Kaidan’s arms in her bunk on the Normandy, because god knows this hardly feels real. But even as she thinks it, she knows how wrong that is; the entire galaxy is hanging from a thread right now, waiting to see what choice she’ll make, how she’ll bring the galaxy peace, or at least the end of the cycles that have plagued it for a billion years. And the longer she stands here, bleeding out onto a pristine chrome floor, the more damage the reapers are doing to Earth, to the cities she barely knows and will never have the chance to see. (Kaidan is from Earth. So was Anderson. So was Ashley. For them - she will protect the planet that has never been her home.)
:))) it's pretty much exactly what it says on the tin! the mass effect three ending with my Shepard and then aftermath. i'll finish it eventually lol
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crystallinecrimsonmoth · 4 years ago
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Mornin’ Coach!
Author’s note: Heyo, here’s a lil bit of fic to go with a moodboard requested by @carl-sweet-serial-killer ! Hope y’all enjoy! Remember I’m always open for requests for both fic and moodboards if you wanna request them :3 
Negan Miller rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out as he switched on the lights in the gymnasium, yawning and watching as each of the overheard strips lit up one by one. They illuminated the practice equipment he’d set up before going home the night before, everything in its right place where he left it, an air of peace and quiet surrounding it all until the sound of rubber soles squeaking against plastic flooring filled the hallway behind him.
‘Weak form today, Walsh, you and Anderson get up to something that’s making you limp?!’
‘Shut your mouth, Greene, I’m faster than you!’
‘Yeah, right!’
‘Beat you to the locker room, bitch!’
The coach snorted in amusement at the words of his students, wandering down the closed off hallway to follow them all to the locker room. As he put his hand on the door, he heard the familiar squeak and scuff that always came a bit slower behind the rest of the group, pushing lightly on the wood to watch his favourite student shuffle up the corridor with his hands tucked into his hoodie and his hair down since he wasn’t yet in the gym.
Negan watched him in silence through the gap, not expecting him to notice his eye on him. When the teen had passed by without a sound from his mouth, the coach followed behind, waiting outside of the locker room door for them to get ready.
His best six gymnasts consisted of four boys and two girls, an odd ratio in the field of gymnastics but for his little group it seemed perfectly normal. The one student he couldn’t seem to stop watching, though, was Carl Grimes. The kid was perfect on every jump, every move, every twist, and at the end of the day when he took his hair plait out and let his brown waves fall down his shoulders, his coach couldn’t help but admire his beauty.
It was a problem that Negan pushed to the back of his mind. His star gymnast was nineteen, he didn’t need an old man thirsting over him from the side-lines, so Negan kept his gaze away whenever Carl looked back, focusing on one of the other teens when that perfect one stared back at him too hard.
‘Mornin’, Coach!’
The man broke out of his thoughts when Ron Anderson passed by him with a nod and a smile. Negan smiled back, patting his shoulder when he got close enough and leaning off the wall as the group of them entered the main hall. Carl and Michonne passed him without a word, chatting amongst each other while the other four fooled around by the balance beam. With a sigh, the coach followed the two quieter students to the other group.
‘Okay, Hawthorne, you’re on beam, Grimes on rings, Greene on floor, Anderson on parallels, Walsh on A-bars, and Rhee on the horse. Rules are the same as every practice, you know how I feel about foul play so watch your ass.’ He warned the group, waiting for everyone to break off to their respective equipment before he made a beeline for the rings where Carl was chalking his hands.
‘Mornin’, kiddo.’
‘Hey, coach.’ The teen turned to him with a bright smile, his brown hair already braided as he stood between the rings, waiting for Negan to help him up.
Negan did so like he always did, sliding his hands onto the younger’s soft waist and pressing his thumbs into the plump skin. Trying not to get distracted by the silky flesh of his student’s body, the coach lifted him up with ease, helping him grab onto the rings and stepping away to let Carl begin practising.
‘Thanks, coach!’
The next few hours went by without a hitch, each student of his taking their turn at each station and passing his daily tests. Negan hated how his eyes would stray to watch Carl train every time he was distracted, gaze focused on the way his stomach muscles moved on full display in the crop top he always wore to practice.
He wasn’t defined in the torso department, not like Negan himself or the other guys on the team, but the older coach liked him that way. He was slim and fit but still soft, and Negan had seen him put away burgers and fries like a lion would a zebra without putting on weight. The teen just kept on giving him more reasons to obsess over his body and mind, looking like an angel and showing off his skill like a pro.
After three hours though, his need to take a piss was stronger than his desire to watch Carl move on the A-bars like a snake twisting on vines. Standing up, he stretched his arms and yawned, nodding to Michonne.
‘Hawthorne, you’re in charge. I’ll be back in five.’ He told her, disappearing through the doors to find the restroom.
By the time he had finished emptying his bladder and started walking back down the hallway to get to the gym, he could hear voices in the hall, making him wonder if they’d taken a break from practice. He wasn’t a dictator coach, so he didn’t mind them taking breaks if it meant they worked better, but as the voices became clearer he didn’t like what he was hearing in the slightest.
‘Your daddy’s gone now, faggot, no protection anymore!’
‘No stopping us from beating your sissy ass!’
‘He went to the toilet, assholes, he didn’t leave the school. If… you… beat… me… half… to… death,’ Negan heard a thump as Carl landed on the mat after swinging between the bars with each word, ‘he’ll know it was you and he’ll kill you for it.’
Negan smiled at that, leaning on the wall outside of the gym as he listened to Carl to defend himself, not wanting to go in until he was done. He didn’t need him to make his point, he was doing that all on his own.
‘You’re right, he would kill us. It’d be worth it, though, slut.’
‘I think you mean yourself, Ron.’
Ron fucking Anderson. As if he could judge Carl if he were dating Negan when that little shit was fucking his best friend every chance he got. The group seemed to go silent after that, so the coach waited a moment before entering.
When he did, he regretted not doing it sooner. He found Carl swinging on the A-bars to avoid dodgeballs being thrown at his body by Ron and Shane, moving swiftly to dodge each one as they kept coming. The other two gymnasts seemed determined to kill him from what Negan could see, throwing balls constantly while Carl continued to swing between the two bars.
He never faltered, moving with the same ease that made him an exceptional gymnast, but Negan wouldn’t stand by and watch what could turn deadly in seconds.
‘ANDERSON, WALSH, STOP!’
At the sound of their coach’s bellowing, the two bullies halted in their actions, but not before one last ball was launched at Carl. The younger gymnast also stuttered in his movements at the sound of Negan’s yelling, failing to avoid the last ball and taking it to the head.
The man watched in horror as Carl fell from the bars onto the edge of the mat at an odd angle, landing with a thud with his head hanging down far too close to the solid wood floor underneath. Negan ran over faster than he’d ever done for a student, lifting Carl’s head onto his thigh carefully and checking him over for visible injuries.
His heart broke when a pained groan came from the teen’s lips and his endless blue eyes looked up at him, watering already.
‘My wrist, I- it hurts, coach…’
His words forced Negan to look down at his wrists and take in the bruising appearance of his right one. It looked like a closed break and made him wonder how high the kid’s pain threshold was if he hadn’t passed out yet.
Looking up from Carl for a moment, he sent a scathing glare at both Shane and Ron.
‘You’re out of competition season for this. You don’t go near equipment until he can, understand me, you little pricks?’ He hissed, keeping his glare even as they nodded then looking back at Carl with his gaze completely softened.
The teen had passed out now, his head limp against Negan’s upper arm as he breathed softly against his skin. He’d probably looked at his injury and fainted from being so squeamish – after all, the coach had once seen his favourite student vomit at the sight of a dead hedgehog on the running track.
Careful not to move his wrist too much, Negan unwrapped the bandage he kept covering his forearm, not caring much if his students saw the scar on his skin if it meant helping Carl. Securing it around him so his injury was immobilised, the coach lifted the teen up from the ground, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips briefly to prove a point to the assholes that had caused his broken wrist.
He glared at the boys once more.
‘Practice is done for the day. See yourselves out. Come on, darling.’ He sighed down at Carl who was still unconscious, carrying him out of the gymnasium with the intention of heading for the hospital.
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rk-stateoftheart · 3 years ago
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"You're not a monster"
The RK900, or ‘Nines’, as he had been so generously dubbed by the lieutenant, did not respond immediately as his eyes were locked on his hands.
It was such a contradictory statement; clearly meant to encourage him and appease to the conundrum he was facing. But this bid yet another question that had been circling in his head ever since he had been activated and set to a world filled with deviants: how was he not a monster when the CyberLife had created him to be as such? Everything that once made Connor appealing and welcoming had been wiped away from his design. Nines was meant to be frightening and threatening. Moreover, it was part of something that was so undeniably him: ruthless efficiency, even at the cost of lives.
He was not the one to pity himself or to regret things that were never his or will be his to claim, but emotions were an unpredictable thing, and sometimes they even got the best of the carefully crafted rational and logical database. Was it right to wish to have his code rewritten every time he suffered from a setback?
Finally, the slender digits released the white jacket. It was stained with both crimson and fading blue, but the red tone was dominating. The blood belonged to a perpetrator that had pulled a stunt which would have probably cost several officer’s lives, and though he’d been successful in subduing the threat, there was now a chance that the man would never see the light of day again.
If he was built to be a monster, how come it filled him with so much dread to actually harm someone or, to add more weight to the dilemma on his mind, why was he so eager to also follow the original code and look past what was deemed ‘unimportant’ and aim for the heart?
“Am I not?” the android finally broke his silence. His cold eyes found Hank Anderson’s face and he scanned it, reading into all the micro expressions that could pass through. Nines himself, save for his hands that were tightly pressed against his sides, remained as impassive and analytical as ever. He inhaled in attempt to cool down the system a little more. “Have my actions not presented me otherwise tonight, lieutenant Anderson?”
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