#I’m working on the Bernard fic and want to burn everything

[simpscripts]

Every time I try writing it just seems like every ‘the’ ‘you’ ‘and’ words feel like the only fucking words on the page. Then I try only adding one of each at most in every sentence and then it just sounds like a weird demented poem.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis is sad at the beginning of the story and Harry makes him happy. We hope you enjoy this more niche rec list! If you do, please remember to reblog and spread the word.

Happy reading!

1) Leave This House And I’ll Burn It Down Along With Myself | Mature | 6845 words

“So I’m simply your guest, am I?” Louis asks, before leaning up and kissing Harry.

“Nope. You’re not,” Harry mumbles into his mouth, and he tries to ignore how Louis’ body arches against his, “you’re not even my living partner. You’re the princess I captured and now I’m going to keep you here, in the forest, all for myself.”

2) I Know You Have A Heavy Heart (I Can Feel It When We Kiss) | Explicit | 17643 words | Sequel

Note: This fic only has smut mentions, but the sequel has BL smut.

In which Louis is spending New Year’s alone in France but he’s definitely not running away, and Harry is a french florist with an ever present smile who cares a lot. They meet a cold night in the outskirts of Paris.

3) Flowers of Flesh and Blood. | Mature | 16478 words

"Baby," he coos, "I'm never gonna let anything happen to you," he says it with so much truth, making Louis' breath hitch as he eyes Harry. "I'm sorry that...that I couldn't protect you-before. Before us."

4) (Quiet Like A Fight) Fingers Laced Together | Mature | 17480 words

Note: This fic does not have BL smut, but has BL mentions and vibes.

The one where Harry is gifted a hybrid and it’s a whole new world for the both of them. 

5) A Grocery List Pinned In Blue | Not Rated | 19839 words

AU. After eight years, Louis finally has everything he's wanted. Except for Harry.

6) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 word

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

7) Bloom | Explicit | 24887 words

When they first meet at Harry’s flower truck, Harry falls hard but Louis’ unavailable. Only before long, Harry reignites a spark that Louis thought long forgotten.

8) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets Harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

9) Brooklyn Saw Me | Explicit | 38537 words

In the cold and unforgiving city of New York, Louis doesn’t have a home and Harry wants to give him one. But as their heartstrings become increasingly intertwined, and the snow continues to fall, home is getting harder and harder to find.

10) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50786 words

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

11) Tug-Of-War | Explicit | 63000

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

12) And Down the Long and Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words

Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis’ past finally catches up with him.

13) Cold Little Heart | Teen & Up | 194589 words

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child.

A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham. Louis really could use the help.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[simpbur]

hello! i would like ur 40 song wiblur playlist

anon thank you so much for asking <333 while it would’ve been easier to just drop the link i have so many thoughts about everything so i explained why every single song has its spot on this list which was IMMENSELY fun for me

(also: if anyone does want the link i can provide both apple music and spotify but if u would like the apple music link i’d rather it be through dms or an ask off anon that i can make private!)

another also: i bolded all the songs for ease of perusing if you don’t want the director’s commentary and bolded + italicized the ones that i think fit Very Well

another another also: wrote the second bit of this on my laptop and the keyboard is p funky so if there are any typos or things that do not make sense i will try to fix them asap haha

saint bernard by lincoln: this is one of those like. Dream SMP Songs that i added because it fits into so many different relationships and plot lines and arcs but i think there’s some connection to c!wlbur somewhere out there. idk i asked my friend and he said to add it so this one goes out to him

amnesia was her name by lemon demon: ghostbur song ghostbur song! mostly comes from this lovely animatic

o valencia! by the decemberists: okay this is one of those songs that only really has one lyric that fits but is an absolutely banger so it’s here anyway. you’ll also notice a trend of quasi love songs that i relate to c!wilbur’s perception of l’manburg and i think this song shows this in a really cool way, esp with the chorus (‘and i swear to the stars i’ll burn this whole city down’ is The Line)

achilles come down by gang of youths: another one of those Dream SMP Songs. i think this fits better with c!tommy but i like it too much to remove it. this is a somewhat common trend with the earlier songs on this playlist (i’ve been building this thing since january, for reference)

brave as a noun by ajj: another Dream SMP Song. i think certain verses fit better than others when it comes to wilbur’s character but that ones that work really work

harness your hopes by pavement: a song that is one here for vibes alone. i have no idea what these lyrics mean. all i know is that i heard it, thought of c!wilbur, and put it on the playlist. thank you all for being here

evelyn evelyn by evelyn evelyn: sad-ist made this a tommy and tubbo song (as she should) so it’s validity on this playlist is questionable but folks used to compare it to wilbur and tommy’s relationship during the pogtopia arc and i think some points were made there

the execution of all things by rilo kiley: i’m so excited to get here because this was the first song i put on the playlist that i think really works and i thumb nailed an animatic for the last verse and november 16th so! i think it’s a good l’manburg song and the last verse has some good ghostbur lines (‘and lately you’re all alone with nothing left but sleep/but sleep never comes to you, it’s the guilt and forever wakefulness of the weak’)

i’m just your problem from adventure time: this ones a bit tricky since at is my favorite show of all time and i cannot detach this song from its in-show context very well but there is a very cool animatic with this song that landed it a spot on the playlist

man burning by josh ritter: almost became an animatic but the audio i wanted to use (which i recorded at a josh ritter concert and it’s just him and his guitar and there’s echo and it’s very haunting and pretty) has my stepbrother singing in the background and i could not edit it out so. that will probably not happen. but anyways the only hole i would pick in this song is that it’s mostly about self sabotage which isn’t really applicable but i think the imagery is cool

mamma mia by abba: here me out. here me out. this is another song that fits so well and i have spent so many hours thinking about this and somewhere there is a note on my phone explaining how every single line relates to c!wilbur’s entire arc from founding l’manburg to the resurrection (made when we thought gbur was going to get resurrected in january) and just. the metaphorical ‘you’ is l’manburg does this make any sense (another almost animatic except now that wilbur’s actually back it might become an actual animatic)

the other side of paradise by glass animals: no idea why this is here other than being a Dream SMP Song. it’s good tho

infinitesimal by mother mother: they saaaaay it stared with a big bang but they saaaaaaaay it came out of a small thing latelyyyyy i’ve been feeling like a big bang You Know

curses by the crane wives: had a thing drawn out for this song showing the comparisons between c!wilbur and c!niki because of the chorus and i think the last two lyrics of said chorus are the best thing about this one

lonely eyes by the front bottoms: gotta admit that i have no idea how this song got on here but i’ve come to associate it with ghostbur based on vibes alone. it’s a friendly song he’s a friendly ghost it works. the other tfb song coming up fits a bit better methinks

king of new orleans by better than ezra: not to put better than ezra on my c!wilbur playlist but like. something about the whole ‘tasing something up to let it fall’ motif makes me think

get me away from here, i’m dying by belle and sebastian: another almost animatic song (there’s a trend here). not only does the story told in this song work i like the lines ‘play me a song to set me free/nobody writes them like they used to so it may as well be me’ in relation to my l’manburg

montgomery forever by the front bottoms: certain bits and pieces of this song fit so well, specifically the chorus and those bits in the last two choruses Yeah (’montgomery forever and ever and ever and now they’re blowing it up/(x2)/as you started laughing and crying and trying to explain how all you want to do is leave’)

don’t look back in anger by oasis: out of all my almost animatic songs, this one got the furthest. the animatic, which I got pretty far in thumbnailing, was about wilbur and tommy and kind of drawing comparisons between their characters, also about the revolution in general. maybe i’ll finish that animatic one day idk 

snow by ricky montgomery: i wish i had a link for this so bad but!! saw art on twitter!! with the lyric ‘bury me six feet in snow’!! and went ahfsdjfk!!

burning pile by mother mother: a Dream SMP Song. also a jam there’s no real specific connection for this one but i think it could fit in a couple of ways

rounds by the oh hellos: in the same position as snow except it was on tumblr..... @ whoever made this comic i saw these lyrics in your brain is massive and your art is incredible

lovely by mt. eddy: on here for vibes alone. there’s something in the lyrical content too, but my thoughts in that regard are not very fleshed out

adventures in solitude by the new pornographers: ah yes..... the song that prompted this all...... this is a beautiful and incredibly well written song and if you’re going to listen to any song off of this playlist i’d encourage you to listen to this one. it’s place of here is mostly cause of the chorus but the imagery in the verses could all represent a part of c!wilbur and i’d love to explore that more

caught in the middle by paramore: obligatory paramore song. i think it got on here because limbo = ‘middle’ but i’m not quite sure. on the verge of being deleted if i can find a better pmore song

delicate by damien rice: one of the oddest songs on this list and i am well aware that it sticks out like a sore thumb. a song that’s on here pretty much because of one lyric, which is ‘and why’d you sing hallelujah/if it means nothing to you’ which i related to both eret’s betrayal and how my l’manburg is hallelujah yknow

bang! by ajr: almost animatic song. i think we all know what the bang is here

somewhere only we know by lily allen: ik i said don’t look back in anger has the most potential to get made into an animatic but this song might actually take it place. on par with adventures in solitude in terms of how pretty of a song it is, and probably even moreso. it’s kind of turned into a ghostbur song in my head, and makes me cry like an infant child every time i hear it

a pearl by mitski: i cannot defend this song’s place on here past the line ‘it’s just that i fell in love with a war and nobody told me it ended’

eight by sleeping at last: the official c!wilbur song needs a spot on here <3 if i can dig up the clip of cc!wilbur talking about this song in relation to his character i’ll add it but until then yeah <3

always by rilo kiley: no idea why this is on here but it fits well!! could not tell you why!! banger!!

celebration guns by stars: it’s a hauntingly beautiful song about war, and kind of one of those that necessarily isn’t about wilbur but moreso his place in the story? idk how to explain it but yes

passerine by the oh hellos: it’s. it’s from the . the fic. yeah h

oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place by bright eyes: added this after the real resurrection and i think it’s because fo the imagery? also the last verse

we are beautiful, we are doomed by los campesinos!: all i have to say is ‘i cannot emphasize enough that my body/is a badly designed, poorly put together vessel/harboring these diminishing, so called vital organs/i hope my heart goes first, i hope my heart goes first!’ has always made me think of pogtopia era wilbur :(

dead weight by jack stauber: no real connection other than eret played this song during a break during the ghostbur’s january ‘resurrection’ and i heard it and went :0

point me at lost lands by tired pony: gives me season on l’manburg vibes..... i love how free and passionate it sounds and that's p much the only reason it’s on this list haha

ghosting by mother mother: added this five seconds ago because i could not BELIEVE it was not on here. ghostbur song. mans sang it on that one stream with the reverb and everything. the lyrics ‘i will be kind and i’ll be sweet/if you stop staring straight through me’ hit particularly hard back when everyone thought that ghostbur was actually wilbur in disguise 

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Dear Santa...

Bernard x Reader

Prompt: Part of my fic trade with the amazing @grungemetalbaby <3

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

It was late. You knew that. Technically, “late” would have been about three hours ago. Now, the sun was teasing the horizon and your eyes hurt more than you would care to admit, but Christmas was coming, and fast, and that meant someone had to respond to all of the letters that came to the North Pole for Santa, and that person was you.

It wasn’t that Santa himself didn’t read the letters. He did. But he certainly didn’t have time to respond to all of them by hand, which was where you came in. Besides, you had better handwriting anyway.

You didn’t need sleep, right?

When it got close to Christmas like this, you longed for the warm summer months when the letters to the big man were only a trickle. Around November, though, things picked up, and because some of the other departments got busy, help was short for the letter-writing department. In fact, for the past few days, it had only been you sitting alone on your stool. And with piles and piles and piles of letters coming in every day, it didn’t look like you were going to get a break anytime soon.

You couldn’t remember a time you had ever been this tired. The words were starting to bleed into each other, and everything was getting blurry, so you yawned for what felt like the hundredth time before putting the cap on your pen.  

“Someone’s up early.”

“Early?” You mumbled, looking up at the figure standing in the doorway. Bernard was there. Or at least, you figured he was, but you weren’t sure if you could believe your hazy vision at this point.

“It’s 5am, (Y/N),” he said softly, tilting his head. Concern slowly spread over his features. “Have…have you been up all night?”

“Maybe?”

Bernard walked closer, standing beside you as you got up from your stool. Maybe you stood up a little too fast because the world was spinning. “Woah there, take it easy.” He reached out and held your arms until you stabilized. “I’m taking you to bed.”

“Bernard, I’m fine! I can do a few more! I didn’t realize what time it was, but—”

“Absolutely not! You’re exhausted! You’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours! You need sleep!” There he was: the bossy head elf you couldn’t help but have feelings for. Did he know you had feelings for him? Certainly not. He was the head elf, the top of the pyramid, and you were in a department that was so understaffed this holiday season that you were the only one left in it. But seeing him get this protective over you…it lit a little yule log in your heart.

“Sleep would be…nice…” You murmured, yawning into your hand. You swayed a bit as you did, so Bernard did what had to be done and picked you up off of the ground, despite your protests.

“Listen, if I let you walk back to your room, you’re not going to get there in one piece. I owe you one. You really stepped up this last week.”

“Don’t mention it…” You tried not to fall asleep against his chest, but it was impossible, and before you knew it, he was setting you down on your bed and blowing out the lantern inside your door. You didn’t know what you had done to deserve someone like Bernard looking out for you, but you were glad you had him when you needed him most.

***

It had been a few days since Bernard had carried you up to your room. You saw him around a bit, whenever you dared to leave the writing department. He’d sent a few more elves down to help you, so you didn’t feel so bad about abandoning your post in order to stretch your legs some. It was still tiring work, though, especially when one of the elves from the mail room brought down three more giant sacks filled to the brim with letters.

So, seeing nothing else to do about it, you buckled down and got to work, reading each letter carefully and sending back a response, making notes for Santa about the wishes of each child that wrote to him.

After a long day of writing, once again, you were the last elf left in the writing department. And that was how Bernard found you, pen in hand, face down on the desk.

He sighed softly and walked closer to where you were sound asleep. He almost didn’t want to wake you. So, he let you sleep for a little while, gently moving your hand so he could get at the letter you were writing. You were almost finished with it.

Bernard slowly slipped it out from you and picked up one of the other elves’ pens, writing up a few paragraphs and then signing the letter.

You had a whole stack of them sitting next to you, so once he was done finishing up the one you couldn’t, he grabbed another and set to work. And then another. And then another. Before he knew it, the sun was coming up over the horizon and light was streaming through the window.

Eventually you stirred from your sleep to find Bernard sitting next to you, tapping a pen against his lip. He didn’t notice you’d woken up for several minutes until he looked over to check on you and found you smiling at him sleepily.

“What are you doing here?” You yawned.

“I came to check on you and…got carried away.” He pushed his stack of finished letters towards you and you smiled in disbelief. “I can see how you’d end up here all night.”

“Well, I almost out-worked the workaholic of the North Pole, so—”

“Let’s call it even. And maybe get some sleep? Both of us? Sleeping on that desk can’t be good for your neck…”

“That sounds good.” You nodded and rolled your head around, attempting to get the crick out of your neck. A few hours in your bed would definitely do you good.

Once you got all of the new letters in order, Bernard walked you back to your room and the two of you parted ways, although, you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemed to linger on you for just a few more moments before you closed your door behind you…

***

It felt like it took Christmas years to roll around, but after a few weeks, the day finally came and went. Santa made his flight across the world and landed safely back at the pole. As was tradition, all of the elves threw a massive party on Christmas night, once they were finally free from work. You were more than eager to attend.

You put on your coziest sweater and curled your hair before heading down to where all of the other elves were gathered. Confetti was tumbling down through the workshop, people were hugging and laughing, celebrating another successful Christmas.

Once you had joined the excitement, it didn’t take you long to wade through the sea of elves to make it to the refreshment table, where there were more cocoa and cookies than you could count. You snagged a snickerdoodle and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, (Y/N), glad you came down. I…know this isn’t exactly your scene…” Bernard scratched the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he was wrong. Your job in the writing department had made you…a little less socially inclined than your elvish peers. “You deserve a little break after all of the all-nighters you pulled this year.”

“Just doing my job.” You shrugged, cheeks burning at the sudden attention from the Head Elf of all people. If there was anyone at the Pole who knew anything about overworking themselves, it was him.

“You went above and beyond. Believe me, I should know. Next year, we’ll have waaaay more elves in the writing department. I promise. I told Mrs. Claus about the shortage, and she trained up five or six new recruits for you.”

“You did that for me?”

“Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?” Bernard laughed, shaking his head. “I’m the Head Elf. It’s my job to take care of you.” His expression softened and he reached out for your hand, which you gave him. “Even if it wasn’t, I…I wanted to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking into your eyes. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever seen him so laid-back. Usually he just about panicked himself into a stroke, but the post-Christmas week or so, he seemed to chill out a little more. “We’re going to actually have some free time coming up, so I was wondering if…maybe you’d like to spend some more time together?”

“I’d like that.” You smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. Something moved above you, so you looked up, and when you did, there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging there. Heat flushed your cheeks as red as holly berries.

“Mistletoe…” Bernard murmured, looking up at where your eyes were fixed. “Would it…be okay if I…”

You didn’t let him finish his question, instead closing the distance between you and pressing your lips against his. He kissed you back eagerly, his lips tasting of candy canes and Christmas cookies. You grinned against him.

Something told you this would be a Merry Christmas indeed…

[iatasbcl]

You Were Born

Pairing: Deviant!Connor x Reader

Summary: It’s Connor’s birthday and the two of you take a trip down memory lane.

A/N: I didn’t feel motivated enough to write on the 15th so here is a late birthday fic for my boy!! Prepare yourself for some tooth-rooting fluff and shitty references, Enjoy!

W.C: 2K? I think

Monday, August 15, 2039

The first thing Connor noticed was how abnormal the silence surrounding the Andersson household was. His home wasn’t one known for quietness nor peacefulness, it disconcerted him how he couldn’t even hear Sumo’s familiar barking that he heard every time he came back from work. The lights were out too.

The atmosphere sent him spiraling into the worst possibilities, was everyone attacked? Were you hurt?

The thoughts terrified him, but he moved towards the door nonetheless, he knocked once, twice, thrice. He touched the doorknob and it turned with ease, the door let out long creaks as he tried his best to look in the dark, he, unfortunately, was not equipped with night-vision optical units.

Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong —

“Surprise!”

As soon as the word hit him, the lights were on and his eyes immediately adjusted. The inner decor was covered with birthday decorations, a big ‘HAPPY ACTIVATIᵛᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵈᵃʸ’ sign hung between the living room and the kitchen. It was your font; you probably didn’t take the size of the banner into account.

Most of the people he knew were there; Hank, Sumo, Nines, his friends from Jericho, and even Gavin. And you, who was smiling at him with the adorable smile he loved so much.

You closed in on him and pulled him into a tight hug, your lips pecked his cheek and you whispered, “Happy birthday.” Into his ear.

—

The party wasn’t over the top, as most of the people here were exhausted from another tiring Monday.

“It was ____’s idea.” Said Hank with some blue whipped cream covering his mustache, “They managed to gather everyone today, took a whole lot of convincing bring that rat-man.” Connor now knew that was Gavin’s nickname.

He appreciated it, you gathered everyone he loved in one room for him on a weekday, nonetheless. You and Hank made him cake shaped like a cartoonish robot with blue frosting, it was a bit messy, but it looked perfect to him. He appreciated the sentiment behind it even though he couldn’t taste it.

—

“Then I yelled ‘Fuck da police’” Said a weirdly drunk Gavin, Connor wondered where he got enough booze to become this intoxicated. He locked everything away for Hank’s sake.

“Detective, you work for the police.” Was Nines’ coolly response.

“Yeah… Fuck ‘em.”

“Nice,” You interjected, taking a sip of your drink “So, you’re saying where you were 15 you stole a car, crashed it, stole another car and yelled ‘fuck da police’ in the face of the office that was arresting you?”

“Yeah… it was awesome” He slurred.

“I feel like I should be surprised but I’m not.” You nodded to yourself.

—

“Hey, Markus?” Connor noticed the alcohol in your body slightly increased as you swayed next to him, “Is it true? Is Warren an android?”

Markus blinked at your sudden question; Connor gave him an apologetic smile.

“I can’t confirm nor deny that.” He chuckled.

“That’s a yes, Gavin you own me 20 dollars.” You ran to where the said man was.

—

Everyone had left as it got late, Nines accompanied Gavin to his home, Markus and the rest of Jericho went to the airport to catch their flight and a rather tired Hank retreated to his room.

It was just the two of you know, he did what you advised him to do if you slipped and drank too much. He made you coffee and gave you water, it didn’t take that long for you to begin to sober up.

“I am dating a one-year-old.” You muttered to yourself, sobering you liked questioning your life choices.

“I am technically designed to be in my late twenties or early thirties.” He corrected and you groaned, “Yeah, yeah.”

For the first time in the last hours, it was quiet. But this felt pleasant.

“Do you… wanna open your presents?”

Presents were a common part of birthday parties, given in celebration of the person’s birthday. He did receive gifts and cards from the attendees that he was curious to see.

And so, he did. He and you sat next to each other on the comfy couch and began to open the gifts.

The first one was a physical copy of the book ‘I, Robot’ by Isaac Asimov. He was surprised to see it was from Gavin, of all people. “Aw, he really loves that book,” you said, “Do you think you noticed you reading a lot in the precinct?”

Reading was another hobby he picked up, he enjoyed how relaxing it was.

The second one was from Nines, it was a mug with a Saint Bernard on it, it looked just liked Sumo. He smiled; he was going to use it for his thirium.

You were smiling too, like you felt happy for how loved he felt right now.

The third one was from Markus; it was a portrait of him. His Art always managed to take Connor’s breath away. “Damn, we gotta hang that over the fireplace.”

North gave him a custom-made knife; Josh wrote a birthday card that thanked him for his help with their cause and Simon gifted him a little cactus.

Hank’s gift would’ve knocked the air out of his lungs if he had to breath. Most wouldn’t call it a spectacular gift, but it meant a lot to Connor. It was an antique coin, similar to his dear one he lost a while ago. He flicked it into his other hand, testing the waters as they say. He knew how Hank found his habit irritating and yet he got him a new coin, a beautiful one too.

“Okay, show off. C’mon open mine.” You ushered and he noticed how you started to look anxious, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course, just open the thing.” You pushed the wrapped box towards him, and he nodded.

It was a scrapbook, made of polaroid pictures of him and the people around you. The first page was from the first time you met, the Carlos Ortiz crime scene. He remembered how Hank scolded you for taking a picture of this piece of shit instead of working. You did not care at all.

Friday, November 5, 2038

-Welcome to the team, Mr. the android sent by cyberlife

The next page included a picture of him and Hank in the car while you drove to Kamski’s place, he remembered it being rather… dull. You didn’t talk much nor did Hank.

Tuesday, November 9, 2038

-Going to visit Mr. I live in the mountains while the whole world burns, this should be great. Also, Connor is listening to heavy metal lol

He did mean it when he said he would like to listen to music, heavy metal has been one of his favorite genres ever since. His grin only grew wider when he saw the next picture. It was taken in Hank’s house, a shot of the TV displayed him standing behind Markus and the thousands of androids in front of them.

Friday, November 12, 2038

-This dork literally joined a revolution and won… what a power move

also hank is tearing up but he threatened to break my camera if I took a photo ):

“Hank cried?” He asked and you immediately nodded, “I told you he’s a softie… he was happy you were alright.” Right, he was almost killed beforehand by his ‘evil twin’ as you said, it made sense for him to worry.

He flipped the page and a wave of happier memories hit him. Things were still hectic since the revolution ‘ended’. Many evacuated the city despite the peaceful approach that Markus took, their fear was irrational yet understandable. This meant most of the resident of Detroit were androids.

It wasn’t bad but the evacuation only meant many humans still refused to acknowledge the fact that androids were alive and in time would be their equals in the eyes of law. It lowered his spirit a bit.

Hank wasn’t having it, at all. He decided to take out the old Christmas decorations he had and invited you over to help decorate the house. It wasn’t even December, yet you rushed here.

This one was of Hank scolding him and his counterpart while they tried to put the star on the tree.

Monday, November 29, 2038

-Life is great, Connor and Nines just tried to put Sumo on the amazing (decorated by me) Christmas tree

Androids really are superior to us

He chuckled at your comment and continued. The photo was of him in a ‘casual’ suit that hank gave him. It was your first date since you asked him out. You were going to watch movies at your place.

Tuesday, February 14, 2039

-Taking this one because Connor looks nervous… and cute.

You snickered, “Do you remember how nervous you were? It was so adorable.” He shook his head, “Yes, my stress level was a bit high. You failed to mention the date would be in your apartment and not out before I borrowed this from Hank. I didn’t want him to feel bad about it and I ended up looking overdressed.”

You chuckled, again. “Well, you still looked perfect.” Your loved complimenting him and it always made his face heat up, he bit his lip and proceeded.

The next one was of him standing in Hank’s bathroom with his LED gone for the first time since his activation, it took a lot of courage to be able to let go of what he was made for, be it that little spinning device. You and Hank were with him every step of the way.

Sunday, April 3, 2039 -My boy is accepting himself

He teared up a bit, the support he got from you and the others was heart-warming, to say the least. He held your hand and gave it a quick peck.

The following one featured a hug between him and Hank. He had received gifts from both Connor and Nines, the former gave him a card with a heartfelt message while the latter gave him one that simply said, ‘You are an efficient parental figure.’ It was impressive since it came from Nines, who still struggled with his lack of a social program.

Saturday, June 19, 2039

-Father’s Day with our fav grumpy old man.

After that was him in shorts and a tank top from last month. He stood next to Sumo with a box of fireworks in his hands. He didn’t participate with the celebration since he wanted to make sure Sumo would be okay, you stayed with him.

Monday, July 4, 2039

-Happy 4th of July! Connor, your legs were made for these shorts- god bless Cyberlife.

That night did end up being… Interesting because of his choice in clothing. He did end up wearing them a bit more since then.

He flipped the page and realized the rest of them were empty. “I didn’t realize this was why you insisted on taking pictures of me with your polaroid camera.” You shrugged.

“It wasn’t in the beginning but… I wanted to capture those moments you know? Keep them with us forever.” You moved closer and snuggled with him, “You can fill it up if you want. I know you can see any memory you want anytime but… I guess this is just a sappy way of doing it.”

“No,” he interjected, “I appreciate your gift and the meaning behind it. I also wish to have many more pleasant memories with you and those around us.” You hummed with a smile then yawned. You put your head against his shoulder and soon drifted off.

He noticed your Camera on the table next to him, how convenient. He slowly reached for it and used it to take a picture of the two of you. You looked breath-taking to him, with your peaceful face and soft snoring.

Something about this felt… right. He felt like he finally belonged. Like he found his place, his family, his love. This was ‘it’ as some would say.

Monday, August 15, 2039 -I am happy.

[kianraidelcam]

IT’S HERE. Day 6: “Panicking” for @whumptopia‘s RoboWhump 30 Day Challenge! I originally posted a preview of it which kind of didn’t happen...oops. This idea ran away from me. Full explanation for that in the link! Tomorrow’s prompt is “Temperature Regulator Damage” and I am researching how computers react to the cold. Full fic under the cut for those who prefer it! Reblogs are love!

Connor would later describe it as feeling as if he lost all control.

Red blood. Blue blood. Spilling over, combining into a macabre purple. Playing over and over again in front of his eyes. His fault, his fault, it was all his fault. Breath quickening, eyes searching for a danger that wasn’t there, systems scanning even though he didn’t tell them too. His thirium pump pounding in his chest, elevated past what was considered optimal. It hurt, why did his chest hurt, there was nothing wrong but everything felt wrong. He almost ruined everything and they know, they know it is all his fault and they’re coming.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

That couldn’t be right. He had what Hank called a gut feeling. He was in danger, danger, danger.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^80%}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

Connor grips his hair, pulling on the synthetic strands, while his chest heaves for air he doesn’t need ( air air where was the air ). A tingling sensation begins to fill his limbs, starting with his fingers before filling his hands, before weighing down his limbs with a static lead. Sumo, he needed Sumo. Hank’s dog always lowered his stress levels and if he could just get the warnings appearing bright red in his visual field to stop, he could find the danger, he could see the danger.

“Sumo,” he rasps into the empty living room, distantly aware that his voice echoes with a mechanical reverb brought upon by his systems working overtime, “Sumo, come.”

He waits for the clacking of nails on the hardwood floor, for the heavy panting from the Saint Bernard to announce his presence. Nothing comes. The only sound that echoes through the empty home is his labored breathing, his fans kicking into overdrive. Connor’s legs give out and he tumbles to the floor in front of the couch.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

{REVIEW MESSAGE FROM LT. HANK ANDERSON: FRIEND}

{Taking Sumo to the vet. Try not to burn down the house or shoot anything while we’re gone.}

That’s right. Sumo had an appointment at the veterinary clinic today. But that had been at 11:30am and his internal clock told him it was currently 2:47pm. They should have been back by now, what if something happened? There could have been a car accident, an ex-convict with a grudge could have happened across the lieutenant, anti-android activists could have recognized him as the police officer with an android partner. There could have been a robbery gone wrong, Sumo could have tried to cross the street at the wrong time, things could have spiraled out of control like he was now.

{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}

{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}

{THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR UNSTABLE}

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^90%}

{PROBABILITY OF SELF-DESTRUCTION: HIGH}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

Hank could be gone, what if he was gone, Connor wasn’t ready he wasn’t ready. And he can still feel the danger approaching like a freight train, ready to completely destroy him once it hit. Hank, he needs Hank, he needs his friend, his partner, his father.

{CONTACTING LT. HANK ANDERSON}

{CONNECTING…}

{CONNECTING…}

{CONNECTING…}

“Hey, Con. What’s up?”

The Lieutenant’s gruff voice sounds in his head and Connor’s systems immediately offer an analysis on the man’s tone. Calm, not out of breath, low levels of stress. There’s the faint sound of jazz music playing in the background, along with Sumo’s signature panting. Evidence suggests they are in the car, perhaps on the freeway. The relief that courses through his wires is even stronger than the relief he felt upon seeing Hank the day after the revolution.

“Connor, you there,” Connor can’t bring himself to respond, opting to scan the room yet again, “Jesus, can androids even fucking pocket dial?”

He must subconsciously switch his phone call to match his vocal unit because Hank is suddenly speaking, concern seeping into his tone, “Hey, kid? Is that you breathing like that? What’s going on?”

Everything, he wants to say. Something or someone is coming for him, even if he can’t say what. He feels like his needs to deactivate his skin and tear off his plastic chassis because here is static that won’t go away underneath it, bringing him down and rendering him unable to even get up. His memory files are playing back images of blood, both red and blue, that he spilled and it won’t stop. Gunshots echo in his head, almost drowning out Hank’s voice, along with screams sounding off in a rusted ship. Too much , Connor wants to say.

“I-I-I...I can’t,” is what he manages.

There’s a pause, then a curse on the other line before Connor’s auditory unit’s pick up on the sound of the engine revving. “Yes you can. I need you to talk to me, what are your stress levels at?”

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^90%}

{PROBABILITY OF SELF DESTRUCTION: HIGH}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

“Ninety percent…” Connor’s voice is hardly a whisper.

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

Connor’s shaking his head, despite knowing Hank can’t see him, “I-I’m home… I don’t know what’s wrong… they’re coming…”

“Shit...take a deep breath, Connor. Who’s coming,” Hank’s voice is like a tether, promising to secure him back to the ground.

“I don’t know, Hank, I don’t know. I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on with me,” his respiration rate picks up to 60 breaths per minute, “What’s...what’s happening?”

{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^95%

{STRESS LEVELS CRITICAL: STASIS RECOMMENDED}

“You’re having a panic attack, Connor. I need you to take deep breaths and focus on my voice, okay?” Hank’s voice is low and steady, with a calming inflection. The part of Connor that is still capable, still logical, offers him the reasons why. Low, even tones helped to calm distressed people, building a sense of security and trust. His systems also offer him a definition for panic attack.

{PANIC ATTACK: A sudden episode of intense fear/anxiety that triggers severe physical reactions despite a lack of danger or apparent cause. Panic Disorder common in adults between the ages of 20-25}

But he wasn’t human. He’s a machine. He wasn’t designed to be capable of having a panic attack.

He must voice these thoughts out loud because Hank is suddenly speaking again in the same, reassuring manner, “You weren’t supposed to feel emotions either, but here we are. It’s alright, the feeling will go away soon. I want you to breathe with me, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Connor hears the exaggerated breathing and makes a few attempts to mimic it. It feels as if his ventilation biocomponents are stuttering, hiccuping their way through his imitation of a breath. He can’t breathe, he doesn’t need to but he can’t fucking breathe where was the air?

{STRESS LEVELS CRITICAL}

{PLEASE SEEK A CALMER ENVIRONMENT}

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

His snort would be derisive if it didn’t sound so choked. He’s home, it is supposed to be the safest, calmest place he had but he could feel the walls closing in. Threatening him. Trapping him. Suddenly, the open space of the living room leaves him feeling claustrophobic, imprisoned, trapped. He ignores Hank’s questioning and surges to his feet, static forgotten as he sprints to the front door, nearly ripping off the doorknob in his haste to get out, to escape.

It’s pouring outside, Detroit currently in the rainiest April they’ve had since the invention of androids. The rain soaks him in seconds, slicking the hair to his artificial skull and drenching his clothes. It feels nice and cool against his overheating body and he falls to his knees on the lawn. Connor’s fingers grasp at the grass, digging through old leaves and dirt. He’s always liked the rain. The way it washes the earth clean, making the smog of the city disappear for a couple hours. The way the world seems new, painting the soft greens and blues in more vivid colors. The way it smells fresh and how everything feels softer.

Rain is good. It’s nice. It paves the way for new life.

{STASIS RECOMMENDED}

The prompt flashes in his vision like a neon sign. A failsafe against self-destruction Josh designed to assist deviants with their new, stressful lives, it gave them a way out that didn’t involve slamming their heads against whatever hard surface they could find. Once his levels reached 98%, his systems would automatically be forced into stasis, but at anything 80 or above, the prompt would flash until their levels either lowered or they powered down. Powering down, out here in the pattering rain, seemed like a better idea with every drop that touched his skin.

Connor disconnects the call with Lieutenant Anderson, despite the yelling coming from the other line, and he lies on the ground, looking at the gray sky. His limbs were once again replaced by static, terror threatening to wash him away. Images flashed over and over again and he wanted nothing more than the nothingness of stasis. He can feel the failsafe urging him closer and closer to the coding that induced stasis in androids.

Josh should be proud. He did his job and he did it well.

{INITIATING STASIS IN 3}

{2}

{1}

{GOODNIGHT RK800}

{MODEL RK800}

{SERIAL #313 248 317 - 51}

{BIOS 8.7 REVISION 2221}

{REBOOT…}

{STRESS INDUCED STASIS}

{LOADING OS…}

{SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...}

{CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK}

{INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK}

{INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK}

{MEMORY STATUS… OK}

{ALL SYSTEMS… OK}

{READY}

{STRESS LEVELS 20%}

Connor blinks, his LED switching from the calm blue of stasis to a puzzled yellow as he stares at the ceiling. He didn’t remember changing into dry sweatpants or putting on Hank’s police academy hoodie. He didn’t remember grabbing a blanket and laying down on the tattered, old couch. And he certainly didn’t remember Sumo coming home, even though the old dog was now laying on his chest, breathing heavily on his face. The RK800 looks around the room, brown irises searching until they land on a grizzled, older man sitting on the recliner, eyes intent on the TV screen playing the Detroit Gears game  across from him. “Hank?”

It’s like a bullet goes off in the room from how high the man jumps, beer spilling from the bottle in his hand. “Jesus fucking christ, kid! Warn a guy before you scare the shit out of him next time.”

“Apologies.” Hank sets the now empty bottle on the glass table, still cursing as he wipes his sticky, wet hand on his pants. He looks at Connor with tired eyes, blue eyes nearly glowing in the darkened room. Connor checks his internal clock; 11:32pm. “How long have you been home?”

“I got home ‘bout five minutes after your shiny plastic ass hung up on me. Speaking of which, don’t you,” Hank points a finger at the android for emphasis, “ever do that again. Thought you went and shut down on me.”

If Connor were sitting, he would look down at the floor. As it is, he touches his chin to his chest and stares at the sleeping dog, unable to make eye contact, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

The human heaves a sigh and Connor can hear the sound of skin dragging over stubble, “Don’ apologize, kid. Shouldn’t have said that. You just scared me is all. I came home to find you passed out on the lawn, staring up at the sky. I thought you had self-destructed or some shit.”

“Josh designed a program to induce stasis in case my stress levels ever got too high,” he offers as a way of explanation.

Hank nods, snapping his fingers to get Connor to look at him, “Yeah, that’s what Simon said. Speaking of which, he left some solidified thirium for you. It’s shaped like fucking animal crackers, when the hell did that start happening?”

Connor ignores the question, raising his eyebrows at Hank’s statement, “Simon was here?”

“Yeah, well, I thought something was wrong so I called him over to help. Not as young as I used to be, Con, no way I was going to lift your metal ass back inside. He helped me get you inside and explained what happened after connecting with you.”

He looks away from the Lieutenant, watching the muted game instead. “So,” Hank says.

“So?” Connor questions.

“We gonna talk about what happened?”

Connor sighs, a habit he picked up from the man, “I don’t know what happened. I assume it was an error or malfunction.”

There’s a pause in which the Gears score and Sumo huffs softly in his sleep. Then, a napkin bounces off the android’s head, bringing his attention back to the Lieutenant. Once Hank is sure he has his attention, he speaks, his voice gruffly affectionate, “You know, for a walking supercomputer you sure are a fucking dumbass.”

“Lieutenant?”

“You had a goddamn panic attack. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it happens,” he raises his hand to stop Connor as the RK800 opens his mouth to protest, “I know the symptoms well enough by now to recognize one when I see..hear it.”

A frown finds its way onto Connor’s face, eyebrows furrowing, “It was…” he trails off, unsure.

Hank nods in understanding, “Overwhelming?”

“Yes. It felt like I was in danger, but I couldn’t find the reason why, then my systems went into overdrive.”

“Works the same way in humans, Con. Welcome to living, it fucking sucks,” Hank kicks his recliner back into its original arrangement, putting him into a sitting position, “But we can learn what triggers them in you, and how to make them shorter and less intense. You ain’t fucking doing this alone.”

Connor lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “How?”

“Shit, well...you know I’m bad about talking about my feelings but I ain’ half bad at listening. And I’m guessing it’s going to be trial and error. But we’re gonna see if what works for humans works for androids. Breathing and grounding techniques that I learned might help. Also, Simon told me to let you know he’s invited you to a support group he has going on at New Jericho. A lot of Tracis and military androids are supposed to be going to it.”

His stress levels decrease at Hank’s words and he offers the man a soft, half smile, “Thanks, Hank. I...appreciate it.”

The Lieutenant pats his legs, calling Sumo. The big dog sighs before lumbering off Connor and padding toward his owner’s side. Connor sits up, catching a box Hank tosses at him once he’s fully up. “Here, eat your fucking blood cookies, ya vampire. Here you are, going off on me about what I eat and then you go and stuff your face with blue shit.”

“The difference between thirium and what you eat is that thirium is necessary to my function, and therefore, considered ‘healthy’ for an android. Fast food, filled with grease and sodium, is not.”

“Hey, Con?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck off.”

[jui-imouto-chan]

Finding His Way Home

Part 1/?

—This is the story that destroyed some members of the New Era Discord and created the “Suspended Fic” channel. I just cleaned up the story and added padding.) This is not the happiest fic, just in case you’re wondering.—

•

Cole and Connor were almost inseparable. Connor taught the younger a plethora of things, but that wasn't to say that Connor didn't learn from him, in return. Cole was like Connor's guide to the world around him, a teacher of the idea of humanity.

It wasn't entirely intentional, but the two opened each other up to so many new ideas.

Cole adored Connor, eyes lighting up like stars as he looked up at the android. He did his best to have the android with him wherever he went. And he always had excuses prepared to keep Connor around for as long as he could. He'd ask for assistance with his homework and for Connor to cook certain foods for him, helping the android with the cooking because all he wanted was to spend time with his older brother.

He got the other to tell him bedtime stories, to tuck him in, to smile at him.

("Hey, Connor, did you know? The last thing you think about is what you usually end up dreaming about!" "No, I didn't know that. What an interesting tidbit." Connor knew, but he was more than willing to humor the eight year-old. "So, can you smile at me before you turn off the lights? I wanna see you smiling when I fall asleep!" Connor couldn't stop himself from smiling anyway, a blue blush dusting his cheeks lightly. "Of course. Anything for you, Cole.")

Connor would come up with excuses to be with him, too. Coming over to work on files they already finished, talking about Hank's health, making sure Cole didn't burn himself trying to surprise his father with breakfast.

Hank would always invite Connor to live with them, even willing to move to a larger house if it meant that the man would stay. But Connor always politely refused, a soft smile with a hint of sadness spreading across his lips. Connor would always return to Cyberlife. He'd walk off into the dark of the night, taking a small piece of Hank's heart with him.

Cole was always reluctant to let Connor leave. But he'd let him anyways, since he knew the android would always come home.

...Until one day, he didn't.

He'd gone and hadn't come back, and suddenly, two pieces were added to what the android took as he left. Pieces of Cole and Sumo.

Cole thinks to himself that Connor didn't ever return, but in a way, he did. It just wasn't...him.

He looked like Connor. He sounded like Connor. He was even named Connor. But he was not, in any way, actually Connor. That was not his older brother.

He didn't smile the way Connor did, not as often or as brightly. He didn't light up when Sumo approached him, nor did he even move to pet the large dog. Connor used to always have treats in his pocket, the best he could manage to get for the St. Bernard.

Cole missed Connor so much. The Fake Connor never hugged Cole, and it took Cole longer to convince him to tell stories, and the other simply read them from books with a flat tone. Cole gave up on him, not willing to go out of his way to spend time with the imposter, and vice versa.

Even Hank was uneasy around the Fake Connor.

Connor would ask so many questions, childlike in his naivete, despite his appearances. When he’d be the one questioned, he’d rattle off information until someone told him to stop. The Fake Connor was quiet and to the point.

Cole just wanted his Connor back.

Cole...

Cole just wanted his older brother to come home.

As a revolution began sweeping over the city of Detroit like a fresh spring breeze, Cole began to encounter plenty of androids. The nine year-old even met the leader of the androids, the one who spearheaded the revolution, Markus, during one of the days his father took him along to the department.

Through Markus, Cole met Alice, alongside her parents, Kara and Luther. He’d also met the others in Markus’ circle, like North, Simon, and Josh. And another android, one who Cole always did his best to avoid looking at and interacting with.

Hank trusted the androids to keep his son safe while he was away, so Cole had ample time to forge bonds. Yet, there was always a distance he kept between himself and the others.

It was yet another day spent in front of New Jericho, a cathedral that had been modified heavily to become a perfect home for the androids that had needed one. Sumo panted at his feet, tail swinging back and forth.

Cole felt someone settle beside him on the bench. Their eyes met, brown meeting blue.

“You know, Cole, I really like dogs.”

Cole nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, I know, Luther.”

Behind the large figure of the man sat Alice, who was peering at Sumo with adoration and awe overtaking her face.

“Can I pet him?” she asked, still looking and sounding the same age as when he’d first met her two years ago. He was almost older than her now, which was a strange concept.

He let amusement control his tone as he told her to go ahead.

She was petting the dog enthusiastically, to which Sumo responded with happy little noises and flopping down to expose his belly.

It was five minutes before she gave her last pat to Sumo’s fur and settled back on the bench. The three of them chatted while Sumo busied himself with sniffing something nearby.

The dog’s head perked up suddenly, which was caught in Cole’s peripherals, but ultimately ignored.

And then Sumo took off, and Cole felt dumb for letting his grip on the dog’s leash become lax. Calling out goodbyes over his shoulder, he dashed after his St. Bernard, barely dodging people walking past until he reached the grassy area that Sumo was now stopped at.

While making his way over to the dog, he found himself tripping and tumbling to the floor.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked, one so familiar that he felt himself tremble slightly. He grasped at the grass, trying to ground himself.

He looked up, then looked away. He would not fall for brown doe eyes; he would not fall for the gentle, concerned tone. Cole wouldn’t let himself--

“‘M fine.” he muttered. He could hear Sumo’s panting grow louder as the furry beast approached.

“Oh, is this your dog? He’s very cute!”

Sumo picked up his pace, chasing affection.

Cole went to get up, ignoring the hand offered to him.

You don’t matter to me.

You don’t....

His eyes darted up towards the other’s face. He stared into eyes glimmering in the sun, so full of emotion. Cole felt tears prick at his own.

Cole reached up, fingers brushing gently against the synthetic skin of a cheek.

Confusion was written all over the other’s expression. He looked down at him curiously.

Cole felt warmth grace his fingertips, felt warmth swirl inside his chest.

Then Sumo snuffled his side, bringing him back into the moment, and the warmth dissipated into an empty cold.

“You….” Cole almost whispered, voice weak. “You aren’t him, are you?”

The android scrunched his eyebrows in worried puzzlement.

“I’m not… who?”

Cole felt a new heat start up inside of him. Burning anger that made him bristle in rage. Memories flurried past him in a blizzard of hurt, his teeth grit and fist clenched in fury, his eyes flooded with tears.

Cole remembered sitting on the porch with Sumo, an excited sparkle in his eyes as he eagerly awaited his brother’s arrival home.

He remembered the smile dropping as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon.

He remembered his father pulling him inside as the stars blinked into existence.

He remembered fighting with his father every day, trying to wait. Because his brother would come home.

After days became weeks, became months, became years, Cole remembered his father, half full bottle in hand, breaking both of their hearts in a single slurred sentence.

“I don’t think Connor is coming back, son.”

He remembered denial, he remembered despair, anger at himself, at his father, at Connor, and that anger all swelled in him with each fast breath that lifted his chest.

Then everything rushed out of him when his lungs forced him to breathe out.

Cole felt nothing. He was shaking, he was upset.

“No, I’m sure you just look like him. Androids have plenty that look the same, right? Maybe you’re just another of his same model. That’s probably it, yeah. Y-yeah. I’ll go, now.”

With a quivering hand, he grabbed Sumo’s leash and walked off, ignoring the way the RK800 behind him hesitated, a hand lifting to weakly reach out just as his back turned.

Cole didn’t say goodbye.

Why would he?

Connor hadn’t.

(“Don’t say goodbye, Con.” Hank told the android before he left, one night. “Even if you get lost on your way, you’ll always make it back home.”

“What should I say instead?” Connor asked, seemingly trying not to smile at the word ‘home’.

“How ‘bout ‘see you tomorrow’? We say that in class every day.” Cole suggested, swinging their clasped hands.

Connor patted his head. “I can’t say I’ll be here every day, that’d be lying.” Cole pouted at him. Connor’s LED rolled yellow as he thinks for a moment. “Alright, how about, ‘see you soon’?”)

He forced the numbers written on the other’s jacket out of his head.

(“313,” Connor began.

“248!” Cole said back.

“317,” They finish together, Cole giggling happily.

“Number 51.” Hank added, looking over the back of the couch.

“My name is Connor,” Cole imitated Connor’s voice as best as he could, “I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”

Hank barked out a laugh and Connor pushed at Cole gently, as though he were offended at the cute mockery, the younger sticking his tongue out at him.)

That android was not his brother.

Cole refused get his hopes up dashed again.