#detective asshole ( gavin )

[airbendertendou]

RUN2U! ♥︎ rk900

synopsis : being the resident “ human nurse “ [medic for human officers] means you're on-call 24/7. except no one really needs you and they let you know that.

cw : imagined nines a little monstorous so hes really big and noticeably non-human ; medic!reader except idk anything abt nursing ; cussing ; gavin is mean sorry if hes your fave </3 , a lot of mentions of guns nd violence

song inspo ; run2u by stayc

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

hiring you wasn't the smartest idea, hank thinks. you were sweet ; kind and soft and too nice to deal with the assholes on this team. inviting you to active crime scenes was beyond stupid. allowing you to sit in the back of a car, small, useless medkit in your lap as you wait for the okay.

it's safe — the lost, wild deviant has either run off or is dead! hank shakes his head — they're lucky no harm, has come to you. yet.

gavin scoffs, shoving past you harshly as you hold a chilled ice pack out to him. blinking, you drop the pack, opting to grab a stained cloth instead.

hank smiles stiffly, allowing you to wipe the blue blood off of his face. you let out a sigh as you do so, drooping slightly at the usual mistreatment you recieve. "are you hurt anywhere, lieutenant?"

"not this time," he answers. working with — taking down — deviants was never a clean, easy job. it got even worse when nines joined — he was adament that problems be taken care of. your lips tilt up the smallest amount as you pull the rag away. "thanks, [name]. we're almost done here."

you simply nod, holding in your yawn as the night drags on. heavy, perfect footsteps crunch on the ground until they're standing in front of you. icy, steel eyes peer down at you as nines stares. there's a splatter of blue on his uniform ; on his hands, his gun, his face. you clutch the bloodstained rag in your hands with a gulp, hiding the movement with your bag.

"[name]." he holds his gun out to you, the barrel facing him. "dispose of this."

"i don't—" your fingers tangle deeper into the silly medkit you hold. his head tilts, blue eyes held onto yours as his inidicator turns yellow for a split second. "i wouldn't know what to do with it."

nines allows his arm to go limp, the empty gun falling to his side. "what do you do, then?"

you think you can hear gavin snort — can hear the other detectives laugh at your frozen form. what did you do? what use were you as an on-call medic for people who didn't even need you? "um—“

his indicator swirls again, "[name]?"

"i help," you say it weakly, loosening your grip on your bag. your eyes grow unfocused, blurring as you focus on a tree in the distance. hank angles his body to you as another cop talks to him. "when people are hurt. i help."

"okay," is drawled out as hands fall onto your shoulders. nines watches as hank leads you to the back of his car, the door open as you continue to stare at nothing. your heart rate has went down, but you seem stuck. hank goes back to nines, "cool it with the ten degree, okay? kid's jus' doin' what was told."

he upset you. it lingers in nines' head like an echo. something he did or said made you sad, or angry. he wasn't sure of which yet. looking at you as you sulk in the back of the car, nines thinks to earlier. you cleaned deviant blood off of hank — maybe that would make you feel better?

when your vision becomes clearer, all you see is white. a white suit stained blue in various spots. you blink, looking up until you see a poised, structured face. "yes?"

nines crouches, kneeling until his face is in line with your torso. iced eyes peer up at you as his hands fall to his knees stiffly. eyes dig into him, but all the android cares for are yours. "i... require help."

your lips fall open in shock as you watch this prim, postured detective ruin his suit and his reputation for you. clearing your throat, you take the bloodstained cloth from your medkit shakily.

tender, practiced strokes to his face cause nines' eyes to flutter shut. if he had real skin, it would prickle with chills — the heat from your skin was bouncing into his slowly. nines all but sinks into the feeling ; sinks deeper into the dampened ground.

"are you hurt anywhere, detective?" your voice brings him back. the sound of his title on your lips causes another shutter to flow through him. dazed, nines doesn't even realize his indicator slowly darkening, turning orange with the human emotions he feels. "nines?"

and then your bare hand is on his cheek — nines short circuits.

a bright, ungodly shade of blue colors his cheeks ; his nose ; all the way up to his ears. a livlier, warmer shade of blue than his cold eyes. nines lets out a loud, unneeded stutter of breath.

“no,” he breathes, “i’m okay. thank you, [name].”

——♥︎——

how out of character was he nd don’t lie ): hope this was okay, thank you for reading, ♥︎ if you’d like to be tagged / untagged in any dbh content, let me know!!

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[niighttree]

Now I haven't interacted with this fandom too much, yet. But there is something I would Love to see more of:

Connor is not a soft boi, or well not just a soft boi; He is a TERMINATOR disguised as a soft boy.

Especially when he's just a machine but even deviant Connor, imo, retains this aspect of himself. He's cordial, friendly even and generally quite impassive to people trying to get a rise out of him (coughGavincough) and yeah I imagine after deviating Connor would genuinely embody those things. His personality wouldn't change much in that aspect except maybe becoming a little more sassy, but! He is also analytical, he knows how to be manipulative, he was designed as the perfect detective and if the need arises he can be cold AF. Not to mention he can and will kick most people's ass. Like bro, in the game the guy is shown to be able to take out an entire SWAT team singlehandedly.

Can you imagine how uncanny that would be to witness?

Tbh, I'd love to see a fic from the P.o.v of someone who is painfully aware of this aspect of everyone's favourite android detective. Let's say, someone who ended up on the wrong side of those hands once and would rather never repeat it again. Like our favourite asshole, Gavin Reed. So recommendations are welcome :D

[gaydr0id]

Am I Dreaming?

"Get some sleep, Detective Reed." Gavin doesn't have to look away from his desk terminal to know the voice belongs to his partner, RK900. "You underperform your duties when you are exhausted." 

Gavin snorts. "I just closed a case this morning. I'm performing my duties just fine. Get off my dick you plastic prick."

[Nines does not get off his dick, in fact he gets much more on it.]

Words: 1096

Rating: M (There's sex but it's not very graphic)

Gavin Reed can't remember the last time he got a good night's sleep. Between the nightmares and the ungodly amount of caffeine it takes to get him through a work day he's lucky to get 5 consecutive hours in one night. When he's unlucky he doesn't see his bed for days. 

This week, he's been unlucky. Gavin has gone home to his apartment for a few hours each night to feed himself and his cat but he hasn't bothered laying in bed for four days. Looking over case files until the words blur together feels better to him than staring at the ceiling waiting for something that's never going to happen. 

"Get some sleep, Detective Reed." Gavin doesn't have to look away from his desk terminal to know the voice belongs to his partner, RK900. "You underperform your duties when you are exhausted." 

Gavin snorts. "I just closed a case this morning. I'm performing my duties just fine. Get off my dick you plastic prick."

"Would you like me to accompany you back to your apartment?" offers Nines, ignoring the insult.

Gavin takes a few clumsy gulps of lukewarm coffee from the mug beside him. "Yeah, sure," he relents. Despite his defensiveness he really does need sleep. "This chair's starting to hurt my ass anyway."

"The chair, or your posture, Detective?"

"Shut up," replies Gavin, giving Nines a playful smack on the back of the head. 

The first few times Nines had offered to take care of Gavin he found it offensive. Then one night, about a year ago, after 8 days without seeing his bed, Gavin couldn't refuse anymore. He let the android feed him and clean his apartment while he slept. There was no use in declining after that. Whenever his sleep deprivation gets particularly bad Nines offers to come over and Gavin lets him. Though he's never admitted it, he really appreciates the company. Even if there is always a closed door between them. On many nights Gavin wishes that door would open and Nines would join him in bed. He frequently touches himself thinking about it, even when Nines isn't there.

Gavin tosses and turns for hours, wishing the door would open, wishing for sleep, wishing for anything other than unyielding silence. Even the nightmares seem more appealing than this. Out of pure frustration Gavin blindly grabs the closest object on his nightstand and chucks it across the room. Whatever it is hits the wall with a thud. It may have left a dent but he can't tell in the dark. That was pointless, childish, but he is far past a state of rationality. 

The drumming heartbeat in his ears masks the carpeted footsteps entering his room. Gavin nearly jumps out of his skin when a tall figure looms over his bed. 

"Gavin?" comes RK900's low voice. "Are you alright?"

"Just peachy," Gavin grumbles. 

"Would you like me to stay with you?" offers Nines.

Gavin wants to protest but he can't bring himself to. He has been waiting months for this and he's just so damn tired. All he can do is nod, knowing the android has perfect night vision to view his response. 

The mattress dips as Nines lays down behind Gavin. The android is surprisingly warm as he presses up against the detective. A slender arm snakes around Gavin's body to cup his groin. This time Gavin does jump out of his skin. "The fuck are you doing?!" he exclaims. 

Nines pulls away. "Sexual release can be a powerful sedative in many humans," he explains. "Isn't that why you masturbate before falling asleep?"

He noticed that, huh? 

"Shut up and touch me, asshole.”

The touch is warm and hazy and glorious. Rk900's grip is surprisingly gentle against Gavin's growing erection. He expected androids to be cold and firm but the smooth plastic combined with rubber grips at the fingertips actually creates a fairly pleasant sensation. Or maybe that's just how he wants it to feel. After all, whenever he imagines Nines coming into his bedroom this is what it feels like. Warm and soft like a human would be. Gavin's brain is so foggy he can't tell if this is actually happening. God, he hopes it is. 

Gavin has no self restraint left in his exhausted body. He groans and grinds against the hand fondling him through his boxers. 

Nines chuckles to himself. "With your atrocious work/life balance I suppose you don't get a lot of sexual attention, do you, Reed?" 

The android's obnoxious voice is right in his ear. Despite himself, it sends a shiver down Gavin's spine. 

"Shove it up your ass, Nines." The threat sounds so pathetic falling from quivering wanton lips. 

"I don't have an opening there," Nines returns. "Would you like me to use my mouth instead?"

Of course the prick took it literally. Normally that would frustrate Gavin but right now all he can think about is his cock in the android's mouth. 

"Fuck yes," he answers. 

RK900 repositions Gavin with ease, rolling him onto his back and placing himself between the man's legs. Nines doesn't bother removing the boxers, opting to pull Gavin's penis through the slit at the front. 

Nines takes Reed into his mouth but without spit to smooth the friction, it doesn't feel especially pleasant. 

"Hold on," grunts Gavin, shoving the android's head away. 

He fumbles in the drawer of his nightstand until his hand finally clutches onto a bottle of lube. Once he has applied an ample amount to his shaft he gropes in the dark for Nines to continue. The android does and this time the curves of his warm cavity feel sublime against Gavin's tender length.

"Fuck, baby," the pet name slips out without Gavin meaning it to but he is too tired and too enraptured by sensation to feel embarrassed. 

Gavin loses all sense of time. The blowjob feels like it lasts forever but is simultaneously over in an instant. He is barely aware of his orgasm as it quakes through his body. Nines is saying something to him but he can't make out the words. 

When did he fall asleep? 

When Detective Reed wakes the sun is hanging low in the sky. "shit," he hisses. He scrambles around for his phone only to realise that was what he had thrown across the room the night before. 

Upon retrieving it from a pile of dirty laundry he sees a message from Nines: I told Fowler you needed a day to rest. I have no idea how I'm going to make any progress on the Miller case without your coffee fuelled sardonic comments but I'll try my best.

Asshole. 

[sunwarmed-ash]

🔥Sinful Sunday🔥

Are yall sad the dbh stream is over? I am :( hopefully this fills the void a bit 💙

Chapter 3: Are all the good times getting gone?

Fandom: Detroit Become Human Ships: Hank x Connor x Gavin Rating: Explicit, 🔞Sexual content🔞 Tags: The Eden Club Sequel fic, Consensual Sex Worker Connor, Polycule dynamics, Porn With Plot, Evil Kamski, Drama, Funny, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Threesome - M/M/M, Semi public sex, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Half-Siblings/Twins Preview:

“Mandatory ANGER MANAGEMENT meetings? You’re FUCKING KIDDING right?!”

“Not really helping your CASE here HANK,” Fowler exclaims, frustration of his own close to boiling over. 

“Jeffery what the fuck’s going on huh? Did I piss you off or something? Why are you taking his side? You haven't even heard what I have to say!”

“You punched a subordinate officer Hank!”

Which, is true, but-

“I punched an asshole who was shit-talking an ex-employee on the clock! What happened to due process huh? There were two other people in that room! If you wanted the real story you could have asked either of them!”

“Detective Reed and Officer Chen were in the room,” Fowler scoffs dismissively. “Do you really think either of them can be considered bipartisan witnesses?”

Hank can feel the vein that rests between his forehead about to explode. This can’t really be happening right? Did he slip on the ice out front and knock himself unconscious just to wake up in Bizarro World? 

“What happened with Reynolds’ android case at the Eden club?” 

Hank doesn't know why his instinct demands that as the first line of questioning, but it proves, as always, to be the right one, because Jeff's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. 

“...What case at the Eden Club?”

[its always free to read my stuff! but tips, coffee, and comments do in fact help me work faster!]

ao3 kofi

[peskellence]

My Friends Call Me Richard

Part II

Explicit Content (18+)

Pairing: Reed900

Tags: M/M, Workplace Romance, FWB, Humour, Awkward Encounters, Eventual Smut

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Read on AO3 here:

Summary: In a bid to improve his partnership (and secret intimate arrangement) with Detective Gavin Reed, RK900 embarks on a noble quest to spice things up. The solution? A new biocomponent.

Word Count: 4K

Tag List: @sweeteatercat @wedonthaveawhile @ladyj-pl @tentoriumcerebelli @negative-citadel @faxaway @moriahadi424 @unicorn4genocide @cptjh-arts

"Detective Reed? May I ask you a question?"

RK900 wouldn't have been surprised if his partner hadn't heard him. He was walking several paces behind, keeping as much distance as possible while still following the same path. His usual jacket was absent, replaced with a loose charcoal hoodie. The drawstring was pulled so tight around his face that it left only a narrow gap through which his eyes peered.

"Detective…?" he repeated, a little louder, attempting to breach the muffling padding around his head.

It was successful. The man twitched, and while the android could not see his face, the subtle contortion of his muscles alluded to a scowl. "What?"

The already irritable man was proving to be in a worse mood than usual. Undoubtedly, this was a consequence of the adverse weather conditions. This had been a concern before they departed, as the human had been unable to locate his preferred outerwear—adamant that he would not leave the apartment without it:

"It's 31 degrees, I'll freeze my ass off."

At first, he had claimed the garment was being cleaned, an event they both knew to be improbable. In the time they had known each other, RK900 could not recall a single instance in which the jacket had been washed.

The next claim had been that his pet had successfully gotten hold of the item, tearing it to shreds. This was a more blatant lie, and while the android wouldn't have usually challenged it—assuming the excuse stemmed from his reluctance to go outside—for this particular excursion, he felt it was imperative for his partner to join him.

As such, RK900 had offered to take a look at the jacket to determine if the 'damage' could be repaired. Presumably, to save face, Reed had secured the first garment available that barely resembled winter attire.

It was wildly insufficient, as evidenced by the ruddy tip of his nose protruding from the hood. RK900 followed its down-turned slope, zoning in on the pavement, determining what the man might be so enraptured by. Admittedly, the sight was pleasant: the iridescent sparkle of crystallised water catching against the sun above.

"For what reason did you choose my designation?" he asked, noting as the soles of his dress shoes left subtle marks against the sleet.

His partner slowed at the question—impressive, given the laborious pace at which he was already dragging his feet. "Your 'what'?"

RK900 frowned, the lack of understanding proving disheartening. Admittedly, the nuances of human speech were something he was still adjusting to. The facilitation of such communications did not form part of his programming, and the conventions proved deceptively complicated.

Assuming his phrasing might be the issue, he implemented a more colloquial approach:

"My name."

"Just say 'name' then, you pompous asshole." 

The belligerence was fleeting as the detective soon began to calm down. Taking a deep breath, he demonstrated the improvements made in emotional regulation since they had partnered. 

"I've already said, no reason. You just seem like a 'Richard' to me."

"That is the part I do not understand. Humans often choose names arbitrarily—unless tied to tradition or deeper personal meaning. It makes no sense that a particular name would feel intrinsically suited to me."

"Oh my fucking God." 

Tempers flared, demonstrating Reed still had a ways to go in maintaining a consistent grip on his behavioural management. Like a mole emerging from its burrow, his face popped out from the cloth, the entirety of frostbitten features now visible. 

"Because you look like a Dick. There, you happy?"

Any concerns regarding the man's body temperature were swiftly forgotten. It was as RK900 had previously suspected: his 'name' carried with it implicit communication of salacious wishes.

This revelation brought with it assurance that these desires were about to be met. With RK900's commercial research, as well as data from the pornographic material on the detective's laptop, it could be safely surmised that his partner would be pleased with the outcome of the efforts.

"Extremely," RK900 responded. "I am certain you will be as well, following the installation of my new component."

Reed muttered something under his breath, vaguely decipherable as a plea for self-termination. The sort of dejected hyperbole that was typical of him when in low spirits. A sour disposition that RK900 was certain would lift soon enough.

As the two reached the end of the sidewalk, they emerged into the centre of a bustling shopping district. Through the crowds sat an extensive strip of retail stores, with one standing out far more than the rest. 

It was defined by bold geometric branding—with a holographic sheen on the signage, illuminated by spotlights that lined the crisp lettering. RK900's anticipation grew, eager to proceed into the establishment. His partner, however, seemed apprehensive—his eyes wide and jaw clenched, torn between awe and anxiety.

From what the android understood, both emotions were normal in response to heightened excitement. In a bid to ease his partner's nerves, he beckoned him closer with a tight nod and a guiding flourish of his hand. 

"Shall we?"

Entering the 'store', they were met with a presentation that was more fitting of a modern art exhibit. A deluge of ostentatious chrome fixtures, mostly nonsensical in shape and design, boxed into a blinding enclosure of iridescent white. The air was thick with incense—orange and bergamot, as his olfactory scanners soon determined. It was likely intended as refreshing but was instead oppressive in its potency. 

RK900 muted the sensory assault with a swift adjustment of inputs. His partner wasn't as fortunate, clamping a hand over his nose to block the cloying scent. 

Following further analysis of their surroundings, he noted the biocomponents filling a series of winding shelves. There was a vast array of options, servicing a diverse range of functions—none of them the one they required.

A flicker of doubt crossed his neural pathways, considering the possibility of misinformation during his research. Fearful his partner might also sense the increasing likelihood of a mistake, RK900 decided to seek assistance from an employee.

Filtering through the customers, it wasn't long until he had established his target. A man stood at the edge of the displays, dressed in a garish cobalt button-down bearing Cyberlife branding. His back was turned as he talked animatedly with two of the patrons—a human female and an ST300. Both seemed unimpressed by his exuberant flailing of limbs and nasally tone of voice.

RK900 approached, and as the couple became aware of his presence, their annoyance shifted to trepidation. The ST300 acted first, performance indicator flashing red as she clasped a protective hand to the small of her companion's waist. The woman offered little resistance as she was ushered back before they both retreated to the exit.

The assistant emitted a strained wheeze as he watched them leave, an arm remaining suspended in the air. Slowly, his raised pointer finger furled into the folds of his palm, and the limb fell limply to his side. 

This wilting posture did not last, as RK900 clapped a hand on his shoulder, startling him to attention. 

"Good Afternoon." 

The man's bony frame locked at the contact—back held uncomfortably stiff. Stunned inactivity soon transitioned into anxious jitters as his head snapped around, bulged eyes fixed on the android.

RK900 soon realised that 'man' might have been a generous descriptor. The assistant looked young—alarmingly so—given the absence of mature supervision. It was autonomy he didn't seem to appreciate, shown by his rapid pulse rate and the sweat gleaming on his forehead.

The longer RK900 studied him, the more he began to fidget. Twiddling the rumpled ends of his collar, calling attention to the misaligned buttons lining his front. Following their crooked trail, the android landed on the lopsided tag affixed to his chest. 

The etchings on it were unfamiliar, characters inconsistent with any known alphabets stored in his databanks. Despite this, he persisted, making an educated guess at the pronunciation:

"ɯɐ̷̜̳͕̗̰̈́͑̋͜͝ᴉ̶̢̻̜͌̌llḯ̴̛̤̒ͅM, I would like to purchase an HR400 Series #5635-9 Penile Biocomponent.”

There was a screech of feedback as his vocal transmitters strained, pushing into previously unexplored frequencies. The sound rattled the windows, reverberating through the store and striking the occupants with a piercing resonance. Of all those affected, ɯɐ̷̜̳͕̗̰̈́͑̋͜͝ᴉ̶̢̻̜͌̌llḯ̴̛̤̒ͅM seemed the most perturbed. His eyes bulged, his mouth slackened into a gaping chasm.

"I, uh—" The words spluttered out awkwardly, each flap of his jaw exposing more of his wired dentition. "Who?"

Clearly, the modulation had left something to be desired. Attributing the human's confusion to this, rather than the content of his address, the android clarified his meaning:

"I am referring to the name on your personnel identifier." 

Following the guiding direction of his hand, the adolescent looked down at his chest, blinking slowly as he studied the embossed lettering. His vacant gaze then ignited with a spark of understanding—and wordlessly, he unclasped the tag, reorienting it by 180 degrees and gingerly refastening it.

RK900's linguistic protocols triggered autonomously, analysing the reconfigured text:

> ROOT ALPHABET IDENTIFIED: LATIN.

> DESIGNATION — 'WILLIAM'

> COUNTRIES OF ORIGIN: ENGLAND, GERMANY.

> MEANING: "STRONG-WILLED WARRIOR."

'William' was far from living up to his title. His pasty body quivered like gelatin, a likeness only exemplified as RK900 pressed on.

"I have reviewed your catalogue prior to my visit. In accordance with my partner's sexual preferences, I believe the 6.7-inch variation in girth size 'medium' would be the most gratifying."

A gasp echoed across the store, loud enough to rattle the exposed rafters above. RK900 identified the source as a middle-aged woman, her daggered gaze locked onto him as she covered the ears of a pudgy child dawdling at her feet. The boy seemed unfazed, gawping vacantly at the smartphone held inches from his face.

The android chose not to dwell on the pair, retaining focus on more pressing matters. "Your website suggests you have several in stock. Please direct me to their location."

William responded as though RK900 had threatened to claim the stock at knifepoint. His face illuminated like a warning beacon as he nervously stumbled through a response. "Sorry, I, uh… it's my first day here…so I don't really…uh, yeah."

The android tilted his head, uncertain as to why the human was discussing the recency of his employment rather than fulfilling its duties. 

William's forcefully plastered smile was strained to its limit. Meekly, he cleared his throat, attempting to oblige the request. "I think they keep that stuff in the back."

The noncommittal response failed to inspire confidence. Nonetheless, RK900 was pleased to make progress—regardless of how sparse. "If you could show us the way immediately. We are eager to test the product."

Reed swore under his breath, shattering his self-imposed silence. His eyes narrowed into slits as he sharply confronted his partner. "Don't fucking say that. Do you have any idea what it sounds like?"

RK900 would have thought the connotations were clear, given the context. He was unable to clarify, though, as William continued to demonstrate a profound level of social impairment.

"Well, I'd love to," he stammered, his spiking cortisol suggesting otherwise. "It's just that I'm the only one on the floor right now. My supervisor's at lunch, and I'm not sure if I'm...old enough to approve your transaction. If you can wait, like, 20 minutes, I'm sure he'll be able to help."

While the remaining address proved genuine, it seemed more like a deflection than a commitment. RK900 felt his patience waning as the adolescent's hapless floundering impeded progression.

Stepping closer, eliminating the space between them, the former Military Unit engaged his Intimidation Protocol—towering form casting a shadow over William, whose pupils dilated fearfully.

"That is an inordinate amount of time to expect a customer to wait."

"O-Oh, is it?" 

The teenager laughed. Or, at least RK900 surmised this was the intent. The auditory rhythms were more consistent with a recent altercation between Detective Reed's feline and an ill-fated pigeon.

"Sorry, I worked in food services before this." As the excuse tumbled out, bright eyes flitted determinedly to the glass-panelled doors at the storefront. "Wait times are, uh, longer there. The kitchen has to prepare the—"

RK900 silently dissuaded William from acting on his impulses. His steely gaze bore down, prepared to utilise force should he attempt to flee.

The inane drivel came to a hasty conclusion. Words died in William's throat, lodged in a tense lump before they were swallowed.

"...It's my first day..." he reiterated, shaky voice laden with defeat. 

He then pointed dejectedly toward the nearby checkout, highlighting the mesh curtain affixed behind the desk. It guarded a concealed doorway that his previous scan had failed to detect. "This way, sirs."

Their experience with the backroom was no less bizarre than what had already been established—albeit in a different respect.

Rather than being assaulted by harsh fluorescents, the stairs they descended were bathed in a peculiar red glow. Upon reaching the foot of the passage, they were met with a set of velvet drapes suspended on a curtain rail. The heavy material quivered, the anchoring rings clattering as trembling hands parted it.

The space beyond came into view, an extensive study in human depravity comparable to the contents of Detective Reed's hard drive.

Lascivious paraphernalia formed the sum of visible décor, proudly displayed on hooks and shelves like household ornaments. As RK900 moved through the space, his optics detected the sheen of polished leather—belonging to garments that tenuously resembled domestic animals, as well as various human professions.

He doubted these clothes constituted proper workplace attire—nor did the accompanying chains and whips serve any relevant purpose.

Amidst walls of latex and gloss, the android discovered some items that more acutely captured his interest. A series of silicone fixtures jutted out like obscene trophies. While disparities existed in size and form, there was a consistent cohesion of design, all items seeking to resemble the same intimate appendage.

His optics adjusted, sharpening focus until one of the objects became the focal point. His primary directive appeared on his HUD, subcommands descending beneath it before one fizzled away, dissipating into a shroud of pixels.

With this came tremendous relief and a marked reduction in stress levels as RK900 realised they had located the item they sought.

William, who stood squarely in the path between the android and his target, hurriedly apologised, "Oh, I'm so sorry; I'll just, um, I'll just get out of your way."

He scampered off, muttering a series of self-deprecating insults under his breath. Reaching an archway signposted as 'Employee Entrance Only,' the assistant hurriedly sought to retreat into the shadows. In his haste, he dislodged a large leather strap from a nearby rack, sending it clattering to the floor.

If RK900 wasn't mistaken, he had seen a distinctive glint of moisture in William's eyes before the teenager vanished from view.

With obstructions cleared, the android closed the gap between himself and the display. Upon reaching the wall, another objective dropped from his optics, leaving only one task remaining before he completed his primary directive:

> PURCHASE HR400 SERIES #5635-9 BIO COMPONENT. 

> ENGAGE IN SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH DETECTIVE REED.

Assuming William had gone to collect their order—but doubtful he would return soon—RK900 sought to use his time productively. He began analysing the display replica, engaging with the tactile feedback that had been unobtainable during his pre-constructions.

He ran a hand across the moulding, studying the vascular ridges, before testing the weight of the appendage in his hand. Pulling his fingers back, he noted how the rubber yielded to the touch. When released, it sprang back to its original position, quivering slightly with retained momentum.

RK900 placed a finger to the tip and sought to repeat the process, this time with greater force. Aware of his partner's affinity for rough handling, he wished to check if the component could withstand the necessary requirements.

Hand poised and fingers splayed, he readied himself to deliver a suitably firm strike. He somewhat miscalculated the force as, upon contact, the suctioned mount of the phallus dislodged—sending the item careening into a rack of intimate stimulators.

Reed watched on, his jaw locked in a tense grit, before he stormed toward the phallus, snatching it from the wreckage. He used it to gesture accusingly at his partner, flesh-toned rubber flopping in tandem.

"Will you stop that? Because I am not paying for this shit if you break it."

While this had not been the intended outcome of his actions, RK900 remained satisfied. He hummed in tune with the faint vibrations of scattered toys before extending his hand to retrieve the display model.

"Not to worry, Detective. It appears the durability of these wares is more than adequate."

There was a distant clattering across the room—this time, unrelated to the parents. William reemerged from his hiding spot, uniform dampened with a series of unsightly patches. He held a small box, fingers clamped around the cardboard in a vice-like grip.

"Sorry I took so long; I—" the sentence aborted as he was forced to take a ragged breath. "I couldn't find the ladder, so I had to climb the shelves. It was really high up. Like, the very top shelf, pushed all the way to the back…"

Another pause followed, this one intentional, as the teenager awaited some form of acknowledgement. RK900 was uncertain what that might be, save a reprimand for his reckless disregard for personal safety.

Determining this matter was not his concern, he strode forward and deftly slipped the container from William's hands. He then studied the contents listed on the package before releasing the tab from one end and peering inside.

After confirming all elements were accounted for, he resealed the box and returned it to its original position in the clerk's frozen grip. "Let us proceed with the transaction."

The two were led to a nearby desk and directed to sit in worn plastic chairs. A concave backrest dug into the small of RK900's back, prompting him to adjust his posture. Reed took none of the same care, slumping into his seat like a dejected ragdoll.

His patience had clearly run thin with the current situation—a virtue he already possessed in limited supply. Undoubtedly, he wished to resolve the remaining formalities of their purchase so they could return home and shift focus to more fulfilling duties.

A rumble shook the table, vibrating the unsteady legs as William proceeded to boot a woefully outdated staff computer. There was a whir of struggling fans, accompanied by frantic clicks as he attempted to trigger some form of response from the frozen monitor.

Once successful, the user interface lagged—a tedium exacerbated by the worker's inability to remember his password. A recovery code pinged to his phone, only to be misentered, triggering a repetition of the mind-numbing process.

Eventually, the store's checkout software was accessed. William appeared sincerely relieved, sighing as he rubbed his blemished temple with the back of his wrist. "Okay, we're in, so all I need to do is take your details, and then—oh."

As was becoming a pattern, the dithering youth trailed off—squinting at the screen and leaning in for closer inspection. He read the system prompt aloud in an insufferably drawn, fumbled monotone. It was as though he was reciting words he'd never seen before with all the finesse of someone incapable of speaking English:

"Ask the customer the following pre-purchase questions in a friendly and…cour-te-ous manner..."

Already faithless in the human's ability to perform his duties, this fumbled delivery did nothing but raise growing tides of frustration. RK900 studied the tasteless clock affixed to the wall opposite, noting as one of the pantyhosed legs struck the half-hour marker. 

Twenty minutes had long passed, and there was still no sign of William's manager. The teenager in question appeared to grow more distressed with every minute, expression falling in line with the text reflexed in his scleras. 

"My employer asks that I inform you of the tan-til-is-ing pleasures of sensational, multi-speed vibrations available at $79.99 with today's purchase." 

RK900 considered the proposition before turning to his partner and seeking input. "Detective? You own several vibrators. I imagine this feature would prove appealing to you."

Reed groaned, pulling the skin of his face taut with prolonged drags of his fingers. "Do you ever think about the things you say before you say them?" 

"While less advanced than other models, I have an extensive computational stage that facilitates verbal feedback. This information is accurate, is it not?"

"I, just, uh. I'll add it to the payment plan," William interrupted, putting an end to the strained exchange. 

As he clicked off the prompt and moved on to the next, his flushed skin drained of colour. It became comparable to the accented grey piping his uniform as his dry lips formed into a tense pucker.

Reed quite aptly summarised the android's sentiments on the shift, grunting despondently under his breath. "Jesus Christ, what now…?" 

The store assistant stared at the screen for a little while longer before he continued. The words were eked out with great reluctance, as though each was causing him tremendous pain.

"Would you like to arrange an appointment with one of our Trusted Cyberlife Technicians to have an—" The subsequent information was muttered so frenziedly the meaning became lost in a jumble of syllables. "—fitted at no additional cost?"

"Repeat that," RK900 instructed, having been unable to decipher the strange utterance.

There was a glossed vacancy in William's eyes that seemed nothing short of haunted. As though he were exploring every decision that had led him to this point and cursing each with mournful conviction. The offending word was muttered flatly, barely escaping his lips.

"Anus." 

"Ahh, I see." RK900 shook his head in dismissal. "We wouldn't have any use for that."

There was an increased urgency to conclude the exchange—as William's pallid complexion shifted to a sickly green. He slipped the biocomponent into a promotional bag before nudging it across the table. "This one is self-install, so if you just—there are instructions in the thing—and, uh, if you keep the receipt."

"We will test the item and provide feedback on its performance." RK900 rose from his chair with fluid precision; the carrier gripped in his hand. "Your assistance is no longer required."

William seemed exceptionally pleased to hear this. The tense hunch of his shoulders lifted as though an oppressive weight had been removed. "Thank you for visiting us today. Your business is appreciated; if you have any issues, please hesitate to contact us."

The android was uncertain if the delivery had been fumbled—or if the dismissive sentiment was intended. He did not have a chance to clarify as the young man stiffly handed over a flier. It was seemingly out of reflex more than conscious thought, with no further words exchanged, gesture omitting any eye contact. 

It had been snowing during their time in the store, a soft blanket that crunched underfoot as they stepped outside. The crisp sounds synchronised to the gentle flick of pages as RK900 deftly thumbed through the booklet. Studying the contents in meticulous detail and sharing them with his partner:

"Flesh tones are the default, but it appears that numerous colour and pattern kits are available for enhanced customisation."

Reed grunted, the sound cutting through the air in a thin ribbon of smoke. Ruddy palms were rubbed together before being shoved callously into his pockets. 

"As it happens, there are several things that weren't outlined on the website," RK900 continued, entirely undeterred by the silence. "Our service representative wasn't particularly effective in informing us of our options..." 

He continued to leaf through before coming across an expansive double spread. Reorienting the page, he curiously studied the detail and texture of the advertised product. 

"Perhaps I should have inquired about the ridged shaft. I wonder if it is too late to include this in our package."  

Reed stopped dead in his tracks. Weathered shoes mounted to the pavement as though encased in thick blocks of ice. His body grew equally frigid, shoulders squared and eyes blown to cartoonish proportions.

"It's fine; we don't need to go back." 

"But it says 'for your pleasure,' Detective." The android attempted to angle the pages so that his partner could see.

"I SAID IT'S FINE— WE'RE NOT GOING BACK."

[gavinisqueer]

"we don't hate Gavin because he hates androids, we hate him because he's an asshole!"

Y'all do realise that we only see Gavin while playing as Connor, the android literally designed to steal his job, right? We have no idea how he acts when he's not interacting with androids, except that he chats with Tina in the break room and plays on his phone instead of working sometimes.

He makes a joke or two about Hank being a drunk, which... He is, and as a detective under him Gavin is right to be upset that his lieutenant is allowed to get wasted instead of doing his job for years while Gavin canonically is gunning for a promotion that he can't get if there's people holding all the higher positions.

[ao3feed-gav900]

To Be Normal

https://ift.tt/QC2IfcH by squaridott “Two Seventeen am, Hank.” Connor answered, “And no, It’s a missing persons case.” “A missing persons case? At two in the goddamn morning?” Hank groaned as he got to his feet, assisted by Connor. The Android could see better now, assisted by the warm, yellow glow coming from the lamp. It was obvious the Lieutenant was exhausted, and if Connor could be, he probably would be, too. “Huh, must be a high-profile person to get them ropin’ in us. At two in the morning.” “Hm, not quite.” Conner hummed, a note of concern in his tone, “It’s Gavin Reed.” ------------------- Gavin Reed is a decorated detective. He'd worked his way up and fought hard to be where he was, so when he goes missing along with several others? It's certainly a shock. Especially when he's later found. But he's... different. ------------------- AKA, Gavin Androidisation AU HEAVILY INSPIRED BY "Adapting to New Norms" BY LunarKnight3 !!!! Words: 7711, Chapters: 5/?, Language: English Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Gavin Reed, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor, Gavin Reed & Gavin Reed's Cat, Tina Chen & Gavin Reed, Chris Miller & Gavin Reed, Tina Chen & Chris Miller & Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Gavin Reed Redemption, Android Gavin Reed, Forced Abortion, Transhumanism, Medical Experimentation, Medical, Crimes & Criminals, Crime Scenes, Stabbing, Body Dysphoria, Species Dysphoria, Species Swap, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), No Beta We Die Like Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Racism, But against Androids, android hate

[honey-beann]

Ruiner, Ruination (RK900 x Reader)

Chapter One: Naming Nines

Series Masterlist

Series Synopsis:

After Gavin Reed, the biggest asshat in the DPD refuses to work with the newest android detective, the only RK900 in existence, you find yourself being offered the opportunity in his stead. Post successful android revolution, with a very recently deviated android partner at your side, will the two of you gain the same level of success as Hank and Connor, or will your different manifestations of humanity, and all of the feelings that come along with it, get in the way?

AKA: Reader and Nines get partnered up and grow closer over a series of one-shots and random cases.

Will you become RK900's ruination?

Chapter Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,579

"Absolutely not!"

The sounds of shouting nearly made you groan as you slumped down further in your desk, trying to ignore the grown man throwing a temper tantrum clearly visible through the glass just a few yards in front of you.

"Sounds like Gavin found out about his new android partner, huh?"

Muttered one of your coworkers from behind you, and you lamented internally at all of the bitching you were going to be subjected to as a result of this mess. Having your desk situated just a few feet across from Detective Reed's meant having to hear all about his newest complaints and disagreements, even if you had absolutely no interest in them at all. Back when you were still considered a rookie just a year prior, you had hoped this had all been a test, and that you would soon be moved to a less bothersome location, but as time went on with no complaints from you, Fowler appeared to have decided that the arrangement worked just fine as a permanent fixture.

You were less than pleased.

Trying not to be as obvious in your staring as your coworkers, you placed your tablet in your lap, looking up from the blank screen every few seconds to watch Gavin push at some other expensive looking object, his eyes wild with an anger you had grown all too familiar with throughout your somewhat brief time here at the station. Needless to say, you were not a fan of Detective Reed and his childishness, and this extreme act of crazed rage only made you all the more aware of how ridiculous and dramatic he could be.

"All this over some android partner?"

You muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes before returning them down to the tablet in front of you, still blank as you tried to look as busy as possible despite your light work load.

Working in the android crimes unit alongside Lieutenant Anderson, Connor, and Detective Reed had been no walk in the park so far, especially not when the first two made such an incredible team. You and Gavin, on the other hand, had been urged to try your best for a few months, before it was ultimately decided that you both worked best on your own. Or, at least, that's what the amicable write up said. In reality, Reed had made it impossible to work with him over the course of just three months, and after that, you had outright refused a partnership. If you were supposed to receive any form of repercussions for this, they never came, and now, watching Gavin rant and rave through the glass of Fowler's office, you were pretty sure that you knew why.

How could anyone truly expect someone to work well with one of the biggest assholes in the entire city of Detroit?

Yourself and the rest of your coworkers watched on for a while, as Gavin continued to argue his case against a potential asset to his one man show of a team, rolling your eyes jointly at his dramatics until finally, Fowler put his head in his hands and exasperatedly motioned for your desk neighbor to leave. Begrudgingly, you watched as Reed did just that, grumbling something under his breath that had your boss glaring at his back as he exited the room.

Everything was quiet as Gavin approached the desk across from yours once more, and everyone tried to look as busy as possible despite the obvious lack of commotion within the usually busy police department.

You relished in that near silence for a few minutes, before suddenly, Fowler's angry voice sounded from just outside of his office door, his glare fixated on Gavin despite you being the only person he was talking to.

Damn, Gavin really had pissed him off, huh?

"Detective L/n!"

He shouted, and you swallowed thickly before standing at once, nodding in his direction to show that you were listening, At the sight of an actually obedient employee, Fowler seemed to calm a bit, although you noted that his hands were still clenched into fists as he spoke,

"How would you like your very own android partner?"

Shocked, you stared at your boss as if he had lost his mind, fighting the urge to ask him if he was sure he had the right person. You were just barely out of rookie status, nowhere near important enough to have earned an android of your own. But, then again, Gavin had blown it, and the unit needed more hands on experts, whether Gavin wanted to work with one them or not, so in the end, you were pretty much the only other option if they didn't want an android going about solving crimes alone.

Swallowing back your various questions and concerns in favor of simply answering the question at hand, you nodded once at your superior,

"It would be crazy of me to say no to an opportunity like that, sir."

You replied as cooly as possible, taking note of the way that Gavin sneered from his seat across from your own as he rolled his eyes at your words. He had called you a kiss ass since your arrival, but truthfully, you just knew when to use the right kind of language with the right kind of person, unlike the incredibly annoying detective you had been forced to call your partner just a few months back.

"Good. Glad to hear there's at least one sane person in the damn Android Crimes Unit."

He grumbled that last part before clearing his throat and speaking up once more,

"Your assigned model is an RK900, the only one in existence. It was originally created as a prototype advanced deviant hunter, but ever since it's... deviance a few months prior, along with the results of the android revolution, employment in a separate area started being considered. You will guide this android in your field work, and maintain a professional relationship with him regardless of your differences, do I make myself clear?"

Shocked to have heard Fowler address this in front of everyone rather than in a private meeting, you nodded quickly and eagerly in response to his words, watching as your boss signed in relief and ran his hand across his face.

"Good. The model was brought by for tuning and integration this morning. He should be by your desk promptly."

Shocked, you opened your mouth to reply, maybe even ask a few questions, but before you could Fowler had returned to his glass enclosure, picking his desk phone up and dialing a number quickly, his shoulders tense and eyebrows drawn together.

Maybe right now wasn't the best time for questions regarding your new android partner.

Sighing, you sat back down once more, trying not to look nervous as you stared back down at the blank tablet on your desk once again.

That is, until a voice, slightly familiar, and somehow also incredibly foreign to you spoke up from your right.

You yelped in response to the sudden sound, jumping in your chair and twisting around to all but gawk at the intimidating man who stood before you.

He looked incredibly similar to Connor, but somehow the slight differences made him seem like a completely different person, and you could tell by the cold expression on his face that they would in no way be sharing similar personalities. Where Connor Anderson, the RK800 model who had deviated nine months ago, was warm and friendly, always ready to ask about your day, this RK900 model was clearly cool and calculated, his gaze consistently disapproving no matter where or who it happened to fall upon.

And to be the subject of said disapproval? It made you shiver before you could even speak up, giving the android in front of you the opportunity to do so first.

"Hello Detective L/n. I am an RK900 prototype built for the purpose of tracking down and dismantling deviants such as my predecessor. That being said, my previous function has been rendered inconsequential due to my status as deviant, and therefore, I have gained employment here, alongside the RK800 model known to you as Connor, in order to support the DPD in the development of android crimes. I understand that you are to be my partner in this task, is this correct?"

You blinked, shocked at the robotic tone of the supposed deviant who stood before you. You stared for a moment, taking in the crisp white jacket that adorned the android's shoulders, and the blinking model number that could be seen on his chest. He was incredibly intimidating, several inches taller than Connor, and far less friendly. It was as if this android felt no reason at all to utilize it's social interaction protocols, and you couldn't help but wonder if that was yet another unexplored area of deviancy.

Slowly, as if unsure of your own actions, you reached your hand out to the android in front of you, clearing your throat as you did so, trying to shake your nerves and muster up the courage to speak.

"I look forward to working with you..."

You trailed off hesitantly, your heartbeat quickening as you felt the unfamiliar chill of the RK900's hand against your own, that gaze never leaving you as your hands interlocked, shaking in greeting slowly,

"Is there something wrong?"

The RK900 model in front of you asked slowly, his words clearly enunciated and incredibly probing as they passed the artificial pink skin of his lips.

"I, uh, I guess I don't know what to call you."

The android quirked it's head in curiosity before it seemed to understand your words, and nodded,

"Ah, yes, your RK800 model-"

"Connor"

You corrected immediately, knowing how much the android in question disliked being called by his model number, your nerves leaving you for the briefest of moments as you stood up for your friend.

"Right, your... Connor"

The RK900 spoke slowly this time, as if testing the way that the sentence sounded in his ears, and you almost smiled at how much it reminded you of his predecessor.

Suddenly, as if he had been enlightened with the correct words to say, the RK900 model cleared his throat, and spoke up again,

"My predecessor, Connor as you call him, goes by a name. This name was given to him upon his distribution, in order to make him more relatable and easy to trust. I was not built to be trusted, nor related to. To put it simply, Detective, I was built for the purpose of destruction, ruination if you will, and that of my own kind in particular. Therefore, I was not given a name as Connor was upon the start of his mission."

You nodded softly, gazed upward at the oh so familiar stranger that stood above you,

"Right, I guess that does make sense... In that case, can we give you a name?"

You asked, tilting your head in question as the android before you stiffened a bit, quirking a brow in response,

"You wish to name me?"

He asked, and you shrugged softly, trying to ignore the heat that was building in your cheeks,

"Well, not exactly. You can pick it if you want to, I just want something to call you that isn't as long as your model number."

Nodding in understanding, the RK900 thought for a moment, before finally reaching what to him was the most logical conclusion.

"I will allow you to choose, since you are so keen on my having a new name to go by as your partner."

You could have sworn you saw the android smirk a bit as he spoke these words, but you shook it off and started thinking hard about potential names for the man in front of you.

This train of thought lasted far longer than you had ever initially anticipated, and eventually, you found yourself groaning out of frustration, hunched over a notepad at your desk two hours after your initial meeting with your new partner.

"Nicholas?"

You offered hopefully, and the man in front of you shook his head for what had to be the one hundredth time that day, that shadow of a smug grin forming on his lips as he met your gaze again from the desk attached to your own, which he had made himself comfortable at shortly after his arrival.

"It just doesn't suit me."

He explained wryly, and you fought to roll your eyes in exasperation as he utilized the same excuse he had been using for the past twenty names. He had a reason to hate everything.

Sighing heavily, you moved to bury your head in your hands, rubbing at your cheeks before you let out an annoyed huff, glaring over at your new partner.

"Two hours in and you're already impossible."

"Oh, on the contrary, Detective."

The android's response was immediate, long and drawn out as he leaned forward so his elbow was on your desk rather than his own, his smirk predatory in a way that made you almost feel frightened as you swallowed thickly while desperately trying to come up with a new name.

"I think I am being quite cooperative. I mean, I've hardly said a thing about that untouched work load of yours."

He finished teasing, and you shot him another glare, as you stood to pace before your shared desk space.

"Well fine then, if a regular name doesn't work, how about something different?"

You asked exasperatedly, and the RK900 leaned forward towards you in what appeared to be mock anticipation,

"Different you say? Go on then Detective, what do you have in mind?"

You thought for a moment, struggling to think of anything, before finally, your eyes fell on that glowing model number upon his jacket, and finally it hit you.

"Nines,"

You breathed out the name as if it were a prayer, and the android in front of you seemed to hum in response, watching you intently as your gaze moved to meet his own once more, challenging and unwavering.

Just what he was hoping to see.

"I like it."

He said after what had felt like an entire minute of deliberation, and you whooped victoriously and jumped excitedly about the small office in response to those three short words, your grin wide and splitting your face in two.

He watched, annoyed by your strange actions, yet somehow also entertained by how improvised and sudden all of your reactions felt to him.

Were all humans like this? If so, this job would get exhausting very fast.

Eventually, you slowed back down and had the sense to look a bit bashful as you sat across from the RK900 - 'Nines' once more, clearing your throat awkwardly as you started to look at your completely empty tablet for what felt like the one millionth time that day.

"I do hope you know that tablet has been depleted of battery life, Detective."

Nines' voice was laced with a bit of humor and cruelty as he spoke, and you groaned internally upon being caught.

You couldn't find the correct words to respond with, so instead you turned your face away from the man sitting on the other side of your desk, trying to focus on anything else but this near stranger who was supposed to be your partner sometime in the near future.

How were you ever going to make it through this with your sanity?

AO3 Link

Series Masterlist

[heiko-goes-detroit]

Why Gavin Reed Isn't A Brainless Asshole

Very short exposition of the facts in honor of @treeffles And whoever wants to read it.

Well, let's see: the following points constitute a basic approximation, but they can be developed more extensively. They also admit subsequent nuances.

1 – The information offered to us about the subject is partial and limited. The premise is manichaean: they present us with a subject from whom only unpleasant characteristics and behaviors have been selected, compared to other characters that cover a broader evolutionary arc. Throughout the game we can see that everyone can choose various actions, which change their behavior and interaction with respect to the android reality. Not so in the case of Reed, whose gameplay is not as extensive as the rest. He is a character deliberately projected to be "the bad guy."

We can accept the decision that the program has made for us (which, if we think about it, is a small scam comparatively speaking), but if so we must also accept that it is not his fault, he have been designed that way.

Therefore, there could be many possibilities to see other facets of the character, which they are deliberately stealing from us. That being the case, I decide to consider that these possibilities exist. The opposite is meekly accepting the story that the creators have decided that I have to validate as the only possible reality.

“The ones who push the limits, discover the limits sometimes push back." – Gerard Butler

2 – We are not taking into account his background as a worker in a society in which artificial intelligence is severely affecting unemployment figures. What impact has this had on his life, on his family, on his education or lack thereof? It's easy to see him as the "bad guy" without knowing anything about his life and past, especially when his opponent is a cute boy with an initially docile demeanor. The most naïve conclusion would be that Reed is a bastard who abuses a poor boy, but we are letting ourselves be carried away by biases and prejudices.

If we stick to what we just have in front of us, we have the option of considering that we don't know enough about Reed and his background, or his life outside or inside the precinct to conclude that he is an asshole, all the time and for any reason. And for his part, Connor is not a poor boy: the thing which arrives at the precinct is an overdeveloped AI, a highly sophisticated set of machinery with a human appearance. Nothing else. Gavin's initial reaction is no worse than that of Hank and other characters, with the aggravating circumstance that he is not allowed to deal with said machine other than a few specific moments within the precinct. He can't change his mind about Connor because he doesn't have opportunities. Within this scenario, his aversion is predictable and reasonable. Gavin has done nothing wrong beyond his very human aversion to the possibility of being replaced in the future by an an airy toaster.

3 – General conclusion: there is not enough evidence to affirm that Reed is a brainless asshole. In fact, no one becomes a detective without some degree of experience, discernment, and training. We can choose to judge him by the limited features that have been presented to us, that is, what we know about him (which is really little) or to go off the rails that have been imposed on us and consider everything we do not know (which is a lot).

Not to mention that even when we stay within the “Reed is a horrible human being” bias, we can keep in mind that no one is irredeemable: Gavin can open up to the reality of other circumstances as they change over time. Redemption is within everyone's reach, although personally I think he has done nothing wrong. Otherwise, I would be the worst person in the world for all the times I've yelled at my laptop xD

That being said, whoever has something to ask, add or object to, can shoot. Everyone is welcome :)

[enkisstories]

Detroit Police Department, Central Station (In one of the AUs where Daniel gets reactivated to work as a janitor at the DPD)

Daniel: "Hey, meerkat... Heard tell you bit off more than you could chew."

Gavin: "Obligatory "You should see the other guys" reply."

Daniel: "Coffee?"

Gavin: "Hand!"

Daniel: "You wouldn't even have to ask."

Gavin: "Good. Now I know you can't fucking run after the ones who did this, brandishing a stolen service pistol."

Daniel: "Why, I'd never do that!"

Tina: "We know. You'd use John Phillips' gun. But run after them you would."

Daniel: "Wait, you, too?!"

Tina: "Let me put it like this: When I found Gav with those injuries, I first assumed you two had had an argument."

Daniel: "You patched Gavin up? Thank you for looking out for him for me!"

Gavin: "Hey! That's MY boyfriend! And that's MY alibi girlfriend! For you two's information. Are you dipshits even listening?! Hey, there! This is the office bully calling! You can't just ignore me!!! I'm not dead yet!!!"

Tina: "If you ask me, this makes our arrangement actually easier."

Gavin: "Danny... I know you not just killed John, but also that before the betrayal you'd have killed FOR the Phillips. And they were assholes. For Tina and me, you must stop killing."

Daniel: "Because you're the bigger assholes, check."

Gavin: "C'mon, this isn't a joke!"

The fingers grasp more tightly now. Daniel Phillips is, after all, Gavin on the other side: He has a beef with Connor, is afraid to lose his place in the herd and is an unapologetic android supremacist. There is the chance that Danny cares for his humans like one does for pets, but wouldn't dream of making big concessions for them. In fact, had Daniel found Gavin first, the detective wouldn't have beeen 100% certain if his android love interest wouldn't have mercy-killed him.

But the moment of anxiety passes and Daniel nods. If he allows his whims to drive him, lets his frustration get the better of himself again, then he'll lose his new family more finally than if they were dead.

Extra: Closeup of their coffee mugs:

For Tina I picked the red one in CAS because that's her second favorite color. Then I saw the inscription in the game and found that it fit even better.

Gavin's (held by Daniel here) has ice cream cones all over it, only on closer inspection the "ice" is all cats. Definitely something he'd own!

[dad-fckr]

Since someone asked about Hank and Hankcon, how about Gavin and Reed900. What do you like about Gavin and Reed900?

Hey anon!

Okay so Gavin:

I'm annoyed with cage for how two dimensional he made Gavin when he really did have the potential to be so much more than 'the mean asshole guy' of the game. Though ill admit I do enjoy Gavin how he is in canon (cancel me folks i honestly idgaf, its a pixel man).

When it comes to Gavin, when you look at him a little deeper than just 'bully' you realise that honestly? I really do think he is a skilled detective and is damn good at his job. I feel like theres so much you can build on from him, and from what ive seen in little details in the game close ups/freecam stuff it's clear his relationship with Hank is actually a lot deeper than what we got in the final game.

He's a stinky wretch with what i believe to be complex issues and i love he <3

Now as for reed900, it's once of those ships that can be super versatile and thats what makes it so fun. You can have fucked up dark themes around Nines doing the worst to Gavin, or soft themes of them both learning how to get along. Nines works well to investigate a Gavin redemption arc that cage never gave us.

I also think it's interesting to investigate Nines dealing with a human that is difficult and stubborn. I think both can share similar traits in a way, particularly when it comes to themes of weakness and vulnerability.

[sunwarmed-ash]

Thank You For Your Patience!! (Sinful Sunday Post)

As a thank you for being patient and sweet while I sorted my life out, I'm gonna post 4 lil Sinful Sunday snippets today! These will NOT be posted to ao3 until their debut! Get em while they're hot

Part 1: Brothers- Hankconvin, Elijah & Gavin

Chapter 3 Preview: 👀

“Mandatory ANGER MANAGEMENT meetings? You’re fucking KIDDING right?!”

“Not really helping your CASE here HANK,” Fowler exclaims, frustration of his own close to boiling over. 

“Jeffery what the fuck’s going on huh? Did I piss you off or something? Why are you taking his side? You haven't even heard what I have to say!”

“You punched a subordinate officer Hank!”

Which, is true, but-

“I punched an asshole who was shit-talking an ex-employee on the clock! What happened to due process huh? There were two other people in that room! If you wanted the real story you could have asked either of them!”

“Detective Reed and Officer Chen were in the room,” Fowler scoffs dismissively. “Do you really think either of them can be considered bipartisan witnesses?”

Hank can feel the vein that rests between his forehead about to explode. This can’t really be happening right? Did he slip on the ice out front and knock himself unconscious just to wake up in Bizzaro World? 

“What happened with Reynolds’ android case at the Eden club?” 

Hank doesn't know why his instinct demands that as the first line of questioning, but it proves, as always, to be the right one, because Jeff's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. 

“...What case at the Eden club?”

Hank scoffs, his bad feeling only compounding with that verbal confirmation. 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Jeff! Something’s not right! And this won't be the end of it, mark my words.”

“Anderson,” Jeff starts, but Hank interrupts, because he needs to be damn sure the Captain hears him this time. 

“And if you won’t help me, a lot more people are gonna get hurt.”

“Hank…” Jeff sighs, frustration clear. But under all that bureaucratic red tape, there's desperation, for Hank to understand why his hands are tied. “There’s nothing I can do.” 

“Why are you protecting him, huh,” Hank asks before channeling every bit of his intimidation into his body language and slapping his hands onto the man's desk. Its the only way to keep a bullpen of nosy on lookers from suspecting his next words “Does he have something on you?”

The way Jeff went hauntingly quiet, even for a millisecond before years of police and miliatry training took over and hardened off his features, Hank knew then there was something really fucked up about all of this. “Alright Jeff,” Hank exhales, pushing off the desk. “I’ll play along. But if you can’t be helpful, at least stay out of our way.”

Bullpen

Hank comes flying out of the Captain's office in a fit of rage which can only really means more bad news. Gavin’s already standing, intent to follow because he knows that stride pattern. They are leaving, where, he doesn't know yet, but Gavin knows he’s expected to follow.

“Yeah that’s right bitch, run after Daddy,” Reynolds jeers into his mug, gaining laughs from the two other piss poor uses of tax payer money, Officers O’Malley and Corporal Jordan.

Gavin ignores him, for the sole reason there are too many witnesses present for him to get away with shooting the man’s smirk off his face. Hank’s body language screams the talk with Fowler didn't go as hoped so plan B is about to be put into affect.   

---

“Hey, you okay,” Gavin asks the second they are both in the safety of Hank’s car. 

“No,” Hank exhales, opening the glove box and pulling out the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept refilled for Gavin. He takes two out before handing one to Reed. “Something big's going on Gav.”

“What did Fowler say,” Gavin asked, pulling out his lighter and lighting Hank’s cigarette. 

Hank takes two full drags before answering. 

“Unless we get hard evidence, we’re on our own.”

“Phcking asshole,” Gavin frowns before shoving his own cigarette between his lips. 

Hank shakes his head. 

“Reynolds’ got something on him too.”

Gavin’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. 

“He say that to you?”

“He couldn't say that to me.”

“What the phck is happening in the world?”

“I don’t know,” Hank sighs, “but we can’t tell anyone else about this.”

An uneasy feeling begins to build in his gut when Gavin clarifies, 

“Not even Connor?”

Hank crushes out his half-smoked cigarette before starting up the car. 

“I don't know yet...”

“We’re going to need help Hank. From someone with access to our resources but not employed at the DPD. More importantly, it's gotta be someone we can trust.”

Hank looks like he might be considering it, before a nasty frown stains his face.  

“What if it puts him in danger?”

Gavin is sure it will. Taking care of Reynolds behind the department's back will put a target on all of them. But, 

“I think even Connor would agree more information makes him better at his job.”

“Alright,” Hank exhales heavily as he turns out of the parking lot. "Alright...”

ao3 kofi insta

Read the other 3 here!

[trlvsn]

adding to the previous post about why phoenix getting his badge back makes sense and he would not, in fact, be too old for that shit*, i feel like people underestimate beanix in general. phoenix doesn't just become an entirely different person because he loses his job, that is by far not how people work and aa4 proves that, it states again and again that we are not who we work as (klavier gavin the rockstar with a passion for the law and the truth, ema skye the detective with a passion for forensics, kristoph the asshole etc etc), and when it comes to phoenix wright, that is especially true. losing his badge and gaining a daughter knocks sense into him and shifts his worldview for the better, not for the depressing worse!! he literally starts seeing through people and understanding tells, he sees the system for what it is, he investigates (also I believe that it's his edgeworth moment bc miles also starts adopting phoenix's courtroom habits in aai, so phoenix having that every suspicious nook and cranny attitude is funny to me) (anyway) he grows as a man!! sure, those years are dark, sure, he is hurt and fallen, but the passion in him never dies and i stand by that. people think it does because they think it's passion for law, but phoenix is not a lawyer at his heart, he is a savior who chose law as a tool. he doesn't have clients but he is doing his best to help a girl have a good dad and a good life, he is pulling the entire legal system out of despair with his bare hands like he would do for people, so of course, after some thoughts and soul-searching, he decides that hey, this law thing can still be helpful for me to be me. it's not a necessity, but it makes him a better mentor, and who is a mentor if not a savior and what is a phoenix if not an undying fire that did not ever, ever, i tell you, give up, because giving up means letting someone or something important in his life down!! this bitch is unkillable body AND soul. bye

* - quoted the anon but in a /pos way

[peskellence]

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".

[ao3feed-gav900]

Lost between Stars

https://ift.tt/u7a0TB6 by byami Even in this curled-up position, Gavin could see the muscles under the black armor-like layer of skin. The long tail twitched as if the alien had registered Gavin's voice. This gave him a glimpse of the powerful hind legs, as well as the long claws on what could be described as its feet, that looked as if they were made of polished obsidian. The detective’s experience told him that a blow from the tail could break bones without any problem. No wonder the unknown alien had been able to injure Officer Brown in his turnout gear. But that only piqued Gavin's interest even more. “Ohh, the dangerous monster is awake, mhm?”   ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ When Captain Fowler orders him to watch the unknown alien, Gavin doesn't expect to find the alien so fascinating ... and sexy. Gavin knows he is attracted to danger but whenever these blue eyes soften and the alien touches him, his heart beats faster than usual. But this alien is their prisoner and even attacked Hank's unit - but the temptation is great. In addition, the alien seems very interested in him ... or is it just trying to use Gavin to escape? Words: 12636, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900, Elijah Kamski, Original Chloe | RT600, Tina Chen (Detroit: Become Human), Captain Allen (Detroit: Become Human), Chris Miller (Detroit: Become Human), Jeffrey Fowler Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed, Original Chloe | RT600/Elijah Kamski, Tina Chen & Gavin Reed, Tina Chen & Chris Miller & Gavin Reed, Chris Miller & Gavin Reed, Captain Allen/Gavin Reed, Captain Allen & Gavin Reed Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alien Planet, Alien/Human Relationships, Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Xenomorph - Freeform, Teratophilia, Alien Culture, Size Difference, Upgraded Connor | RK900 is Called Nines, Being Lost, Prison Sex, Weapons, Fights, Spaceships, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Fluff and Humor, Marking, Scenting, Scent Marking, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Half-Siblings, Good Elijah Kamski, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, Bottom Gavin Reed, Sexual Tension, Shapeshifting, Longing, Forbidden Love

[puffinparty]

Another snippet hope you like it!

Gavin sat at the bar watching bar goers grind, drink, and laugh as the music thumped through speakers. There was no band on tonight but Gavin had needed to get out of his apartment. The walls had felt like they were closing in on him and no amount of cat purring seemed to be helping his spiraling. The siren call of slipping namelessly into a crowd and the numbing kindness of a drink was too much to bear and a small part of him he wouldn’t give the time of day to also hoped that he might see a familiar looming musician. The bartender gave him a familiar nod of her head as he returned to his corner of the bar and lit up a cigarette. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you those things cause cancer, Detective?” A smooth voice asked, sliding into the empty seat beside Gavin. The bartender placed his drink on the bar and he could see the barely concealed smirk as she turned away from the two of them.

“Keep it down asshole. I don’t need everyone knowing that.” He grumbled as he looked over their shoulders. He took a drag from his cigarette when he was satisfied no one but the bartender who was absolutely listening in with a little smile as she cleaned glasses.

“Why wouldn’t you want people knowing you’re a cop? No honor in serve and protect?” Nines snorted as he plucked the cigarette from Gavins fingers and brought it to his own lips inhaling deeply. Gavin was distracted for a moment watching the way his lips wrapped around the object and he could practically feel the phantom press of bodies and the familiar heat curling deep in his belly. He looked quickly away taking a fortifying sip of his drink and resolutely ignored the gleam in the other man's eyes. He had never had someone look at him like they wanted to eat him whole and laugh in his face at the same time, or at least not the way Nines did it. 

“I definitely was never an idealist, never thought cops were out to save anyone or anything but college wasn’t in the cards for me without the Detroit PD and I had nothing else going for me so cop it was.” Gavin sighed, “I don’t want to hear shit about being a class traitor or a narc I’m just here to listen to music.”

“You are a class traitor though.” Nines said and smirked triumphantly when Gavin shoved his shoulder and grabbed the cigarette back to take a drag.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah piss off,” Gavin said and pointed a finger in Nine's face, “But I’m definitely no narc and no snitch though. Now shut up the band is coming on.” 

Nines turned like Gavin did to watch the stage as the band came on and began to strum their opening chords and Gavin thought the conversation was over, “So how’d you get the scar?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Gavin said not taking his eyes off the stage as Nines laughed, “I’m ignoring you.” 

“So how did you get the scar,” Nines asked and Gavin could hear the smirk in his voice. Gavin groaned in response, tossing back the rest of his drink and resolutely ignored the question. He wondered how they had gotten to this point flirting at the bar for all to see without Nines needing to be preforming that night. Gavin swallowed the question of whether Nines had come here to see him, he had long since learned that people didn’t seek out his company because they liked him. 

An hour later Gavin found himself in the familiar position of being pressed up against the wall of the bathroom. Nines' large hands pressed his hips backwards and the rest of his body quickly followed, drowning all of Gavins senses in the other man as he grasped roughly at the short hairs at the base of his neck, tugging and drawing small noises from Nines. Gavin slipped quick fingers under the shirt Nines was wearing so he could draw blunt fingernails down his stomach eliciting a shiver from the other man and dark eyes met his as they panted quietly trying to catch their breaths, their faces only the barest of inches apart.

THANK YOU THANK YOU ABSOLUTE ANGEL I WAS HAVING A HORRIB;E DAY YOU WANNA SHOW URSELF HUH JHGJHGJHGJGF