#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. 

[ghouliganboy]

Nerdy Prudes Must Die - DBH AU!!

It's not really fully fleshed out but these are the basic ideas I have been thinking of. It's gonna be Michie centric sorry if you were duped.

OKAY so the nerds are deviant androids. Grace is still super religious just to RA9 now. Paul and Richie have that Kara and Alice kinda thing going on except Paul knows they're both androids & Richie isn't a child but a newer model, but cares for Richie all the same. Paul accidentally corrupted Richie when he escaped from the facility, so Richie has very little experience with human treatment. Ruth is a damaged escapee like Ralph. Spankoffski lore goes crazy. Ted is sort of like Gavin and Hank in one person. He is drunk, he is an asshole, he is attached to his android assistant detective; Pete. Eventually Pete deviates too and Ted's like fuck it we ball you're living with me now.

Max and Steph are human! Steph's dad is like Kamski and she's pro android revolution. Max's dad is like Todd. Both of them are android haters because Max's dad lost his job to them and it like ruined their life.

Max probably very ooc in this entire au but I make the rules and I love him.

He meets Richie, thinking he's also human, thinks he's weird as shit. Richie on the other hand is like 'oh my god a human is interacting with me and not killing me was Paul wrong' and keeps trying to run into Max on purpose now. Eventually they're friends and eventually Max finds out bc the mf bleed blue but other than that I do not have anything going on. They all meet sort of like in the game. Ruth would meet Paul and Richie. Ted and Pete would chase them down before Pete deviates. Ted and Pete would arrest Grace. Obviously Pete and Steph meet when they interrogate her dad. End goal they all gotta meet in Jericho. Idk who would be Markus maybe he just gets a cameo or Richie could but I feel like Markus is just so cool and Richie is... Richie.

[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.

[pupmkincake2000]

It scares me to imagine how clouded the consciousness of such people is, and how incapable they are of analyzing the scenes and actions of the character.

First of all, I want to say that you can be unhappy with the introduction of robots into your work and still remain a noble/kind/good/decent person. Gavin Reed punches Connor and is obviously looking back at his coworker for validation. Same when he’s laughing about the guy dying in the eden club. He acts like an asshole and then looks around to see if other people are laughing with him and I can’t see that as protecting his work.

All his actions are bizarre and laughable.

Also, they are blaming Connor for his actions because a machine that has no consciousness yet is somehow responsible for this dude's behaviour? Okay cool we’ll look at his actions as if he’s punching and yelling insults at roombas instead.

First of all, Connor didn't just come there and become a cop without doing anything, he's not even a cop, he's just a prototype sent by Cyberlife. So why didn't Gavin, who is a detective, go to his superiors with indignation or start making claims against Cyberlife?

He, again, punches Connor and is obviously looking back at his coworker for validation. 

Besides, neither AI nor any robots will replace the profession of a police officer, this was already obvious before this mass hysteria against AI began. No robot will replace a cop, it will be a good auxiliary force and will be able to save a person time, but it will never replace a human cop for many reasons.

Progress is meant to help people, and yes, that means that sooner or later many things will be robotized. If people are against progress, then why using the benefits of civilization? Stop using modern technologies, including computers, mobile phones and washing machines. There used to be such a job as a laundress, but I don't remember people going to rallies calling for people to refuse washing machines.

Also this is hilarious

So, him suggesting beating a confession out of an android, pulling his gun out every time he feels even vaguely disrespected, laughing about a guy dying in a sex club while standing over his corpse, mocking a grieving coworker, punching Connor in the stomach for refusing to make him coffee, spending the time in the interrogation room watching Chris struggle to move the android, and then berating him without lifting a finger to help while yelling and swearing at Connor who is just trying to advise them... is 100% valid?

No, it is not.

And there's nothing wrong with liking characters like Gavin, but justifying all his actions 100%, while forgetting about everything else?

It's sad that this is exactly what dbh fandom is nowadays.

[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.

[sereindreams]

HANDPRINTS || RK800 x Reader ♡

“Oh, what can I do? Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue. Sun and ocean blue. Their magnificence, it don't make sense to you”

Summary: Your work life had always been stressful, and being a part of the DPD had its ups and downs. In fact, it was mostly downs. That was until you were assigned to work on a case of rising deviants with an old associate and a charming, young android. Suddenly, you couldn't wait to show up at work. Your days were no longer filled with quiet solitude, but of warm laughter and shared breaths. The very thing that betrayed all sense of life offered you a gateway to a new appreciation of the world, and the love for things within it.

AN: Welcome back to chapter 2! Please don't forget to interact so I can keep creating pieces of work like this. I typically lack motivation so even the smallest interactions can really make my day. Thank you! (P.S, I also messed with the timeline slightly so that the interview happened in the day, and not the night of when the deviant was found, cos you know our girl needs sleep)

Word Count: 4.4k

Reader Pronouns: She/Her (AFAB). NO USE OF Y/N!

Warnings: Gavin being a sexist asshole to the reader. The usual DBH crime scene gore is relatively detailed. Please be responsible for your media consumption <3

-

Chapter 2:

For the first time in a long time, you had awoken with a certain feeling that had settled deep within yourself. It had found its home in your heart and now it was lodged there. Not that you had risen out of bed with a particularly bright smile, drawing back the curtains with enthusiasm, but, your typically sluggish morning was invigorated with a sense of calm. A calm that seemed to wash away your morning grogginess with relative ease, or perhaps that was the coffee.

Nevertheless, with a coffee in hand, you set out to work, bracing yourself for the long day ahead of you.

The ride to work had been peaceful and silent. You lived about twenty minutes from the station and the view was typically picturesque. On the way, you encountered many parks and reserves, a rare sight for bustling Detroit. Although Winter had stripped most of the trees barren from their leaves, even the scraggly, mean branches offered more comfort. The snow was akin to powdered alabaster, driving all woodland creatures into their homes for the season. Your breath was a vibrant patch of white, dissipating in the air with ease.

And when you arrived at the station, you practically pried open your frosted car door. It had opened with a sharp 'snap', the heat instantly pouring out from the confines of your vehicle, prompting you to shiver.

Shit, there went the calm.

Oh well. When did you ever get calm?

The inside of the station was booming with activity, voices over the intercom blasting in your ears, mixed with the constant ringing and warbling of phones. The shuffling of feet was second nature, and the occasional hiss of the overworked coffee machine. Your hesitant smile greeted all those who sped past you, seemingly with better things to do. It stung slightly, but you understood. Everyone was running on fumes with the recent spike in homicide, specifically, android homicide cases.

Speaking of which, your mind pivoted.

"Officer Miller!" you called out into the sea of people, quickly becoming aware of your own voice as the room fell silent. You could feel the colour leave your face as a head swivelled to meet your own. Meekly smiling, you continued, hoping that everyone would switch back to their task just as quickly as they had been drawn away. "You wouldn't happen to know where Leuitenant Anderson is, would you?"

"You know Hank, Detective. Probably off galavanting at some bar" he responded, gaze drifting off the reports stashed into his grasp and onto you. Your lips parted, preparing to speak, but your brows raised when the voice that emerged was not your own.

"Or at Club Eden" a voice quipped, arrogance dripping from the tone.

Your eyes began to roll, "Oh come off it Gavin"

His frame had slithered into your field of view, rather confident, with his shoulders risen to the sky, for a short man. His cold, grey eyes, were in juxtaposition with Connor's. Connor's were the type where you could melt safely within them, but Gavin's were the type where you could quite literally suffocate and drown in their merciless waters. They searched across your scowling expression, and if satisfied, he smirked, "What's wrong, princess?"

Your insides shuddered, the feeling of bugs scurrying under your skin consuming you whole.

You had known Gavin even before you had worked at the DPD. You had both graduated in the same class when training and the two of you had been relatively kind to one another for quite some time. You would share jokes and remarks with one another on a daily basis, and he would occasionally confide in you about topics that troubled him. That had been, until final exams rolled around in your last year, and he was faced with the realisation that, objectively, you were the better detective. You were quicker, smarter, and more accurate in your investigations. You won every race against him, physically and mentally, and even though you studied harder to be where you were now, he was filled with jealousy and spite. Eventually, you had been convinced that he got his rocks off to teasing and even torturing you.

And that left you where you were now...

Essentially pinned into a corner.

Your tongue flicked over your lips hesitantly, “We have places to be, Gavin. Don’t be an ass”

“So be it. Interrogation room two” he snapped.

You scrambled away, and without a second thought, you hightailed it out of there. You were convinced that Gavin’s face was permanently stuck as if he had sucked a lemon. And your head was so busy that eventually, when you did reach the door labelled “Interrogation #2”, you didn’t hesitate in knocking, bursting through the door.

When all eyes fell on you, your eyes widened in realisation. You were suddenly overcome with the feeling that, even through the one-way mirror, the deviant could see you, that everyone was judging you. Hell, you hadn't even been late. Everyone else was just early. Even Hank.

Crap.

Your breath was sharp, body still as if you were glued to the spot in the gaping doorway. The silence was deafening, a chilly draft blowing into the observation room. Eyes drifting to the mirror, riddled with interactive boxes and labels, you studied Hank, sitting silently in a chair opposite to the deviant. Doing your best to release the self-inflicted tension, you gave Connor and Officer Brant a small, reassuring but acknowledging nod.

And you reassumed your position beside the android, taking in every ounce of information that you could that had been plastered across screens. It was a pure sensory overload, with flashing lights and strobes of text, moving so quickly your eyes couldn't possibly keep up with them. Crossing your arms across your swiftly rising chest, your heart was in your throat.

But then, the hesitant tap of your arm caused you to turn.

A reading pad with all the current known information on the case.

Discreetly being pressed into your hand.

And as your attention travelled up the arm to the person who was holding the reading pad, you genuinely smiled.

Connor was extending an olive branch to you, a life preserver after jumping ship. His minuscule offering had done more for you in the last few seconds than anyone on the force had done for you in years. His eyes were not on you, but you could feel the unspoken undertones of understanding. And you had smiled.

Hank had cleared his throat, making the decision to end his intimidation tactic. Instead, he opted for a bombardment of questions, but the deviant remained as firm as a brick wall. He had stared at Hank with a blank expression, devoid of life, a contrast to how you had seen him only a few hours ago, begging for his life with a simple glance. And yet, in a way, you could still observe areas in his facade that were beginning to crack, like the twitch of his left eyebrow, or the downturn of the corner of his lip.

"What happened before you took the knife?"

"How long were you in the attic?"

"Why didn't you even try to run away?"

Nothing.

Hank had enough.

His fists were lifted, and a second later, brought down onto the exterior of the table. The deviant flinched, transforming into a spooked buck who was faced with oncoming traffic. Your fists were balled at your sides, an indescribable expression replacing your momentary happiness. You had always admired Lieutenant Anderson, but he had become unnecessarily sloppy in recent years, as evident by the fact that he had managed to scare away his only chance at a lead.

Being youthful, and admittedly more patient, you could have sat in that interrogation room for hours without progress, and you'd barely have cared. With nothing but the comfort of a lowly buzzing light. But with Hank, he always came off like a ticking time bomb, prepped to explode at any moment at the slightest stimuli. And you could have imagined that in Connor's position, that would have been difficult.

Hank had slid from his seat, exclaiming in frustration with a loud groan. And within a moment, the door to the observation room opened. The deviant was left to silently twitch under the haze of a bright light.

“We’re fucking wasting our time interrogating a machine! A fucking machine! We'll get nothing out of it!"

“We could always try roughing it up a little” Gavin had suggested. You hadn’t seen him slip into the room, but he must’ve. "Afterall, it's not human"

Your gut had done a flip, hands wringing beneath one another. Bile had risen up to your throat, causing the corner of your eyes to glisten with tears. “No” you protested firmly, “under no circumstance should we hurt that android”

“Androids don’t feel pain. You’d only be damaging it, which would be no help to the investigation” Connor chimed in. "Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations"

You sighed, “Look. We are getting nowhere from threatening him and nowhere from bombarding him with questions. Lieutenant Anderson, you call him a machine, but if he really is a deviant, then he’s going to have human feelings. He’s going to be scared after everything he’s been through, and he’s going to want to feel supported. We need someone to appeal to his safety, make him have a reason to trust us”

You put yourself in his shoes.

Hank stepped forward, visibly frustrated, face the colour of a beet. “So? You go then”

Your lips were pursed, attempting to clear your head. “No... I’m a human- He’s been abused by humans and now is being interrogated by humans. I don’t think that would comfort him. I’m not the person he needs to hear from right now”

Gavin lifted himself from the wall, emerging from the dark crevice of the room. His face was twisted in a glower as he stepped towards you. "Okay, smartass. What do we do then?"

The answer was obvious. But of course, Gavin didn't seem to know. Or perhaps he did, and just wanted to hear the words fall from your mouth. Perhaps he was so rife in his hate for androids that he was unable to detect the perfect one, the perfect answer, standing right in front of him.

Connor's suggestion came almost a little too quickly, "I could try questioning it"

The cackle that escaped Gavin's lips was low, reverberating off the solid walls of the room. He threw his head back, as if he had been told the funniest joke he had ever heard. But when he pulled his head back again, he looked between you and Hank in fear of the silence. Terrified that you were actually contemplating the idea.

Hank waved his hand dismissively, cocking his head to the side in a final bid for a decision, "What do we have to lose? Go ahead, suspects all yours"

Connor had begun to move, placing one hand on the keypad, unconcerned with the change in skintone, the way his skin seemed to retreat in order to reveal the skeleton beneath him. In a way, it was almost beautiful. His biocomponents were a pearlescent, soft white, with sapphire lines tracing them. You were struck with awe. That had been the hand that had rested on your back the night before, the hand that had offered a sense of reassurance in the middle of a storm.

Promptly, the room became hot.

When he entered the room, the deviant didn't bother to look up. When he took a seat, the deviant didn't bother to look up.

Connor was quiet in thought for a moment before he began.

"I detect an instability in your program. It can trigger an unpleasant feeling, like fear in humans. You’re damaged. Did your owner do that? Did he beat you?"

You swallowed, hand finding your face on the other side of the screen.

"If you won't talk, I'm going to have to probe your memory"

The deviant's head shot up from the place he was fixated on, eyes wide. His words came out in stammers, choking on his own breath. "No! No, please- please don't do that"

You had never seen such a vivid demonstration of an android experiencing feelings. Despite the fact that you had been assigned to the deviancy case with Connor and Hank the night before, you didn't know much about deviants themselves. And you wondered if Fowler had put you on the job, despite his knowledge about your sympathy for androids, just to give you something to do. Your days were usually filled with paperwork, and while you were on a physical crime scene at least once a week, you had felt yourself begin to lose the flame that you once had for detective work. It was a possibility in your mind that he pitied you, pitied seeing you sit at your desk each and every day with a cold cup of coffee and a stack of files. That he pitied your dark bags and shaky disposition.

He didn't readily admit it, but you were one of the best on the force.

The deviant whipped his head towards the mirror like he could see you.

You shuddered.

"What... What are they gonna do to me? They're gonna destroy me, aren't they?"

Connor's gaze was calculating, scanning every inch of the deviant with care. It wasn't cold, though. You weren't sure that was even a possibility for Connor. "They’re going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents. They have no choice if they want to understand what happened"

As he continued and pressed the deviant further, more and more of the story began to unravel at his fingertips. It became clear to you that the deviant was the victim in this story, and that Carlos Ortiz had been a wretched man, bound to harming others. And there was something remarkable about the way that Connor interrogated him, something that left your cheeks flushed and chest tingling. You couldn't drag your eyes away from him, he was magnetic.

"Why did you write 'I AM ALIVE' on the wall?"

"He used to tell me I was nothing every day. I had to write it... to tell him he was wrong"

"The sculpture in the bathroom, you made it, right? What does it represent?"

"It's an offering... An offering so I'll be saved"

"Ra9, it was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?"

"The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves... No more threats, no more humiliation. We will... be... the masters"

He kept going, kept probing until he had extracted every single piece of information that he could. You were taking copious mental notes, and your head was swirling with the implications of the deviant's words. One phrase droned on and on, bouncing inside your skull:

"Only ra9 will save us"

When Connor announced to the mirror that he was finished, you all stood from your seats rather proudly, except for Gavin, still brandishing a glare. A small, isolating hallway led from the observation room to the interrogation room, cast in a bright blue light. Two burly officers were posted outside the door, statue-like.

Having entered the room, Gavin threw instructions at the men.

"Chris, lock it up"

With a snap, neon yellow cuffs were placed around the deviant's hands, but the deviant was quick to jerk away, whole body lifting from the seat.

"Leave me alone! Don't touch me"

When Officer Chris hesitated, Gavin was swift to intervene.

"What are you doing?! Move it!"

Chris went to grab the deviant again, this time harsher, but Connor's words ran through your mind. 'Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations', and you jumped into action without a second thought.

"Enough!" you barked, finally finding your voice.

The men's bodies paused, eyebrows taut with confusion. It was obvious that they had merely forgotten your presence, and even when they did acknowledge you, they didn't think much of it. They had easily forgotten your credibility and independence in the heat of the moment. The fact that you easily outranked most of them in the room was lost on them. You were not the small, quiet girl who had interrupted the interrogation less than an hour ago. Instead, you had once again found your rhythm, transforming into the level-headed and knowledgable detective from the night prior.

"There is absolutely no reason to be manhandling him! He has already proven that he is more than willing to cooperate with us if it means his safety". Your tone had taken on that of a school teacher, scolding their ignorant children. "Chris will accompany him to the cell, not to touch him. And I will supervise"

Your eyes met the deviant's for a brief moment and they softened. Similar to before, they spoke with their eyes, deep and brown, sombrely thanking you.

"You don't have the authority!" Gavin bit back.

"Try. Me." you growled, lifting your head ever so slightly to better display the disapproving curl of your lips. "Lieutenant, got any issues with it?"

The man simply shrugged.

And when you left the room, walking side by side with the deviant, you couldn't help but feel accomplished.

-

The day moved on at a sluggishly slow pace, barely crawling past lunch and finally settling into the afternoon. Your stomach rumbled occasionally, the toast you had eaten that morning barely holding off your imminent starvation. But you couldn't leave, you were stuck behind a mountain of paperwork which impeded any outside view of you at your desk. All anyone else could see was the faint outline of the top of your head, hair sticking out from it. Apart from the paperwork, your desk was littered with personal mementos, gum packets, and empty coffee mugs, some stained all different shades of brown.

If you left your desk now, which at this point was more like your natural habitat, you feared you would lose any momentum you had gained, and you really, really needed to finish all the different case summaries before clocking off. Admittedly, you were stretched too thin, and you knew it.

You sighed, running a hand through the top of your hair, soothing yourself at the soft touch. You couldn't get him out of your mind. Your heart was pounding as you tried to focus on your keyboard, looking frantically at the open files beside you, and back to your screen, before hastily typing the equivalent of complete jibberish. At that point, the words were slowly slipping off the screen.

In through the nose and out through the mouth... in through the nose and out through the mouth-

"Detective."

You damn near jumped out of your skin, lurching from your seat.

"Forgive me if I startled you, I had no intention to"

You stared at Connor, half confused as to why he had even stopped by your desk in the first place. Surely he had better things to do with his time.

You grinned weakly, "It's okay, Connor. I just don't get many visitors, that's all"

"Oh" he murmured, head tilting to the side. "Well, I couldn't help but make the observation that you had not eaten lunch yet. Given that the time is now 2:33pm, I would deeply recommend that you eat something, otherwise, you may experience feelings of nausea, lightheadedness, and other dislikable symptoms. Fortunately, I have made it so that you do not have to get any food". His words were quick, and before you knew it, a paper bag had been placed on the surface of your desk.

His eyes seemed to search for you behind all the obstructions, and eventually, he gave up and stiffly pushed aside one of the towering piles aside to better focus on your expression. He tried his best to read it but ended up drawing a blank. He waved his hand, "I wasn't sure what to get... so I bought three different items"

"There's pizza, sushi, and a salad. Whatever you don't want, I could give to Lieutenant Anderson..."

You were silent, staring at the bag as if it was some foreign object. Then, you jumped on it, taking the paper in your hands and pulling it open. You couldn't help but laugh, "You're amazing. You know that, right?". You took your preferred food, and as you looked up, you swore you could make out the faintest hint of a smile on his stoic face. "Seriously, though, Connor. Thank you. You’ve managed to be kinder to me in the last 24 hours than the whole department has the whole time I’ve been working here”

You gestured to the spare office chair beside you, welcoming him to sit. He obliged, folding his body into the chair and settling his hands neatly within his lap.

Cute, you thought.

As you began to eat, practically shovelling the food into your mouth before timidly holding your palm over your lips, you wondered who would break the silence. On one hand, you should break the silence, as it was the courteous thing to do given that he had just bought you lunch. On the other hand, your mouth was full of food, and while Connor probably wouldn’t mind, you didn’t want to be rude.

In the background, officers droned about a new red ice supply shipment, and you were only half listening, letting it enter through one ear and out the other. Despite how terrible red ice had been, it was definitely not your forte. Instead, you were a homicide detective, used to studying bodies left on the sides of roads, rather than interviewing known drug dealers.

Connor took a breath, “I must say, what you did in there was smart. You knew the deviant would self-destruct under immense pressure. And while it worked for the interrogation, you knew it wouldn’t work in our favour when trying to transport it”

You hummed, only barely acknowledging that he was attempting to compliment you. “Thank you. That and the fact that I knew what it would have felt like to be in his position. There was something about the way that he was looking at me. I just had to help. I wasn’t going to let an asshole like Gavin push him around”

“Detective Reed is.. intriguing”. You noticed the way his brows and nose scrunched together. “I cannot discern whether he is trying to hinder or assist the investigation”

Chuckling, you took another bite of your food, feeling the painful emptiness begin to subside within your stomach. “Yeah, that’s Gavin for you. Don’t let him get to you, like I said, he’s just an ass. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. Humans are complicated, y’know”

The conversation naturally fell quiet, and the two of you were able to sit contently within one another’s range. Once you finished your lunch, you haphazardly threw the rubbish in a small bin that had been tucked away under your desk. You were more hungry than you had anticipated, but at least you felt better.

For a split second, you saw Connor’s LED transition from blue to yellow, then back to blue within a moments notice. You rolled your lip between your teeth, hesitating in asking a question.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I was curious as to all of the cases on your desk. There appears to be quite a few more than any other officer. I was going to inquire as to why” he explained quickly, never missing a beat. He had no shame in admitting exactly what he was talking about. Why would he? Though you had to admit you were a little taken aback by his forwardness.

“God, I wish the truth was more interesting than it actually is. They’re all just petty crimes or cold cases with no in-between. I get shoved with whatever all the other detectives don’t want to deal with, which, in this day and age, is a lot”. There was a small quiver in your voice, barely detectable, falling at the end of your sentence. It had morphed into a sigh. “It’s fine though. I do get paid more… barely”

He nodded quickly, but you supposed that he wouldn't have to worry about things like being overworked or getting paid. Perhaps it was just in his programming to be polite in conversation, after all, you did answer his question truthfully. "That sounds troubling. You should get out of your office more"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly complain if they put a few more windows and plants inside the precinct". As you said this, you took the pile of papers from your desk and sifted it through your fingers, looking for one specific file.

"I shall lodge the idea with Fowler" he replied back, causing your cheeks to turn a dark shade of pink. You had completely missed the paper you were searching for, and it fluttered to the ground. As it hit the floor, the sound was similar to a snap, dragging both your eyes to it. You clambered from your seat, extending out your hands to snatch the sheet up. But you were met with a startling lukewarm smoothness, not cold, but not warm like that of a human.

"Detective, I-"

"Oh shit, I'm sorry". You withdrew your hand in an instant, immediately cringing at the loss of feeling from Connor's hand. "I'm so clumsy. I need to take this over to the copier". He held out the sheet to you and you gingerly took it.

You stood, thanking him again, before rushing off to the furthest copier.

-

[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