#detroit become human fanfic

[thingsaday]

This Detroit Become Human Crack-Taken-Seriously fic has been haunting my brain for a while & I don't have the energy to write it so we're doodling it instead~

AU where Zlatko (mad scientist guy) isn't discovered until after the revolution, and manages to get his hands on Connor. Before Hank & the DPD can rescue him, Zlatko manages to transfer Connor's program into that of a Canine Android. (Insert some angsty lines about "following his partner around like a dog" despite his deviancy)

Following the transfer, Connor has to try to get Hank's attention & communicate his identity despite no longer being able to speak or interface with humanoid androids. Possibly with the time pressure of being deactivated once the investigation is over. Much angst and humor ensues!

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk and if anyone writes this I will eat that sh* up please and thank you

[meanqueenkream]

“A strange blend of awe and delight unfurled as she observed the beautiful shade of azure bloom across his bashful face. He’s blushing blue? How cute weird…”

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Getting Hurt While Protecting Them (Deviant Edition)

Request:No

Warning:Burns, Zlatko’s Death, injuries, blood,cursing

Characters:Kara,Alice,Marcus, Connor

A/N:This is the deviant version of a post I did a while ago which is linked here

Deviant Kara + Alice

You came with Kara and Alice to Zlatko’s house where you met Luther and Zlatko, after the mans true intentions were revealed and you tried to keep Kara from losing her memories,but Luther was instructed to take you away and he did so. After freeing yourself with the help of other androids in the basement you made your way to where Kara was having her memories erased. As you were trying to figure out what to do, Zlatko found you and the two of you bagn to fight. You had thrown a water body between the two of you to distract him and gotten wet in the process, when he grabbed on of the snapped wires, which allowed Kara to fall to the ground and retain her memories, you sustained a nasty burn. You powered through it despite the shock in your body and knocked him out with a near by pipe before grabbing Kara.

“Are you okay?” She asked as you pulled her up.

“We can check later, we need to find Alice.”

After doging both Zlatko and Luther you both managed to find Alice and in a remarkable turn of events Luther swapped sides and rose up with the experiments in the basement to kill Zlatko.When the four of you finally got a chance to settle down in an abandoned amusement park, Kara checks Alice and then goes straight to you.

“You are hurt, did Zlatko do this?” She questions, the caoncern is evident in her face.

“Yes and no, I was dumb and threw a bottle of water in a room full of electrical appliances,so he took his shot,” 

She pauses searching for the right words to say before running water over it it and wrapping it up to the best of her abilities.

“Thank you…you saved Alice.”

“No, I saved my family.”

Deviant Marcus

Marcus didn’t make a habit out of trusting humans, but you had helped pull him from the android graveyard and help piece hisself back together again with your own two hands and he knew he could trust you.He knew that at anyone you would put your life on the line for the safety of another androids whether they had deviated or not, and you had in the past, not to mention you treated his goal almost as seriously as he did.

The incident happened when you joined him for a hesit of thirium and biocompenents, he had been shot in a vital component during a chase. You took his arm over your shoulder and helped him escape, but in the process of fleeing over a gate you were bit in the thigh, your jean shorts soaked in your own blood the wound seeping blood the entire journey back to Jericho. It was here, after he assessed the other adriods and you finished helping others replace their components, that he noticed you were wounded.He places a hand on the wound, his eye scanning it with a look of concern.

“Why didn’t you get that taken care of?”

“Others needed their components replaced,” You respond shrugging as he removes his hand, the artificial skin covered in an alarming amount of your blood, “I didn’t sit down until just now, so I never got to it.”

The moment you finish speaking, he hoists you up on a broken interface and takes a closer look. After inspecting it, he cleans the wound and bandages it up, all the while he is telling you how human and stupid it was.

“You’re not even listening are you?”

“Half-way, that’s gotta count for something,” You smirk as he looks up at you.

“Why didn’t you just leave me there?” His eyes narrow as he asks you the question, as if expecting something different than what you say.

“Well,” You sigh dramatically, “Jericho just wouldn’t be the same without Markus, the big, bed, fearless android leader, now would it?” You tease, nudging his shoulders as you slide down and off the interface.

You only chuckles a little and shakes his head.

Deviant Connor

Hank wasn’t answering his phone and everywhere you and Connor turned androids,devaint or not, were being executed in droves. No where was safe until you and Connor stumbled across an android named Markus who gave Connor a single mission: to collect soldiers for the andriod army. You refused to leave Connors side as he carried out said mission and he had no choice but to let you. An android entering a human made it much less suspicious anyways, and it worked up until the second model of Connor approached. You could always tell the real Connor, for the longest time he didn’t believe he had a lick of human emotion or deviancy in him until it was nearly forced out of him.

You watched in anticipation and fear as Hank had the gun trained on you, then Connor, then Fake Connor. He wouldn’t let you move an inch, assuming you were a replica to,as he questioned the two androids. You didn’t think twice when you stopped infront of your Connor when you heard the gunshot.You didn’t even stop to look where the bullet when when Hank shot the right Connor as you turned around and gave Connor a once over, looking for any kind of injury that would indicate he was damaged. 

It wasn’t over yet, with all the commotion and the trouble in the elevator before hand the three of you had to move fast. And move you did, you made it to the frontlines with Markus and had the honour of standing beside him as you watched history unfold infront of your eyes. Overtime, Connor had developed a habit of observing his surroundings visibly but now he is dead still and his hand gun equiped is steadily rising. You gently hold the gun in your hands and call his name, your voice prying him from Amamnda’s grip. The alarm of nearly killing you sets in, and as he looks to where you have the fun pointed his LED flashes red. Your shirt is covered in blood, with the adreanline of a possible Civil War on your hands you hadn’t noticed that you had been running around with a bullet embedded in your side.

The moment the standoff had ended, Connor rushed you to the hospital where you were taken care of. He sat on the bed next to you, his LED pensively blinking as he stared at the ground, before he finally spoke, clearly still trying to wrap his processors around what had happened in the past 48 hours.

“You let him shoot you…”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Why?” When he asks this, he turns to face you his eyes scanning your face for any signs of unwell mental stability but he finds none. You’re heart rate is normal, your respiratory rate is pristine, no signs of PTSD or early truama, yet you’re lying in a hospital bed with a hole in your side.

“Because I didn’t want you to die, Connor.”

“He was aiming for a non-vital component in my body, I had a 96% survival rate even if he shot me.”

“I didn’t like that 4%.”

“Oh…thank you.”

“You can thank me with a kiss,”

Hank walks in the room hears this and laughs talking about how someone owed him 50 bucks and a bottle of booze.As the two of you share a gentle kiss.

[urfavbooblover]

Hi:) can I request a dbh connor x reader fluff? It can be anything you are comfortable with, I only carve for a cute, , nervous, blushing Connor :’)

Hi! Thank you for your request :) I apologize for this late publish, i was taking a quite long break but i still hope you’ll be happy to read this and enjoy it, i had much fun to write this cute imagine btw!

Blushing mess || Connor x gender neutral reader

Warnings: slight cursing but just fluff

(remind me if I missed any)

- Detroit become human masterlist link -

Y/N’s pov:

I was awoken from my sleep, by my annoying alarm, as i rolled onto my other side, reaching out my arm and lazily turning it off, letting out a groan of frustration. Another day of work was waiting for me and i was already not having it. So much shit has been going on lately and it seems like everyone is expecting way too much from me.

I’m surprised Hank is pretty understanding when it comes to my situation, usually he’s a big jerk but we built a good and steady friendship, which lead us to being great work buddies if i’m being honest. He can still be a pain in the ass sometimes.

I sat up on my bed, my mind wandering off to think of one special person. Well, he’s not a person, Connor is more likely a machine, one of the androids to be exact. He has been assigned to work with Hank but they don’t get along very well, i’m full of hope it’ll change any time soon though.

I felt a smile forming to my face, just thinking about him. Connor is probably one of the main reasons i still enjoy work, don’t get me wrong i actually learned to like my job, he just makes it a lot better. I couldn’t help but feel interested in him, he’s not just good looking but i started a liking in his personality too.

I reached a different type of motivation for this day and decided to get ready and have some breakfast. I didn’t notice how fast time was moving forward, so that’s when i rushed out of the house and grabbed some coffee on the way to my working place.

Arriving at the police department central station, i got out of my car, reaching the entrance. I walked in and took a sip of my still warm drink. I greeted my coworkers as friendly as i could be and finally took my seat across from Hank.

“Morning Y/N”, he spoke, gazing up at me from his computer. “Good morning Hank.”, i replied in a somewhat really nice tone, noticing he wasn’t in such a bad mood today. Kind of suspicious if you ask me.

“Oh good morning Y/N. It’s nice to see you again.”, i heard a familiar voice saying, seeing Connor back at Hanks side. “Good morning to you too Connor. It looks like you’re being positive, huh?”, i said, my eyes never leaving him. I’m not quite sure but i could bet i just heard Hank letting out a scoff.

“If Lieutenant Anderson hasn’t told you yet, we got some news for one of the deviants, it seems like he has been spottet somewhere and we’re about to investigate the location. I did a good job myself.”, Connor explained and earned an unamused glance from Hank, who wasn’t too happy about Connor’s own praise.

“Well, sounds great! You guys should inspect and move forward then. I probably got lots of work to finish here.”, i said, expressing the last sentence in a bored tone. “Actually, we want you to come with us on the mission today.”, Connor replied, trying to hide the fact, that his lips formed into a small smile.

“Yea. More like you. It was your idea Connor.”, Hank stated, letting out a huff. He was obviously exposing him there. “What? Uh, maybe i just don’t mind some help.”, he defended himself, blocking off any accusations, even though his face was slightly flushed. Androids could in fact blush, they’re designed so much like humans, it’s crazy.

And I myself couldn’t help but grin at the situation in front of me. “It’s alright guys, i’m glad to come with you. I rather be out from this place anyways.”, i stood up, waiting for them both to return the act, so we could go.

____________________________________________

On the ride to the spot, it was mostly quiet. Connor was the only one who began to talk a lot, explaining everything about the deviant he found out and it was honestly interesting, but i could see from the passenger seat that Hank was annoyed by hearing all of this again.

it didn’t take too long though and Hank finally parked the car. I took a look out of the window, seeing an old house, the color was already coming off and it seems like the people living there didn’t care much about it.

After my small inspection, i opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. Hank was on his way to the front porch, as i heard another door close behind me. I turned my head, to find Connor right next to me. Was he waiting for me the whole time or why was he still sitting in there?

“The deviant is supposed to hide here. I just know an old couple is living there.”, he spoke up still looking forward, his gaze fixed on the house, before he decided to lock eyes with me. I almost forgot how beautiful they looked.

“Well, makes sense then, that no one took care of it.”, i responded, quickly turning my attention back to Hank, where i was about to walk off to anyway, but i was stopped when i felt a hand gently wrapped around my underarm. “I should mention, Y/N. You look very pretty today.”, Connor nervously smiled at me. I wasn’t even able to respond, cause he was gone in a second.

I don’t think i would’ve ever expected this. He couldn’t even keep the eye contact, was he that nervous? Little did i know, he was practicing how he was going to confront me about it the whole car ride. I like this side of him though.

I was so stuck in my mind, i didn’t even notice anything around me, till- “Y/N! Are you coming now!”, Hank screamed me out of my thoughts. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, realizing they’re both waiting for me. I jogged up to them, my eyes landing on Connor who was grinning from ear to ear.

“You need to-“, “Pay attention, yea yea. I literally just zoned out for a second, it’s not that deep Hank.”, i interrupted his sentence, cause i already knew what he was going to try to lecture me about again. He only sighed at me in response, as i slid past him to enter the house.

“And now? Where is everyone?”, i asked in confusion, us three standing in a completely empty, old fashioned furnished house. “Yea, if you would’ve paid attention earlier, you would’ve known by now.”, Hank responded in his usual sassy voice. “Oh come on Hank, just inform me, instead of going on with ur childish games”

“Nobody responded to our knocks, Y/N. They didn’t open the door, so Hank kicked it in.”, Connor replied instead, a soft expression on his face. I gave Hank a weirded out look, as he shrugged his shoulders. Who cares if he was even allowed to do any of this, i just quickly wanna get this over with.

“Okay, you know what? I will search everything down here. You two, go upstairs.”, Hank commands, already walking away from this scene. I spun around, taking a look at Connor, who watched Hank closely with narrowed eyes.

“Let’s get going, Connor.”, i said, preceding to get up the staircase. He followed shortly behind, as his voice could be heard really close to me. “Hank is pretty hotheaded. He’s somehow always mad at everyone.”, “He got a very short tempter. It’s like he’s always mad at the world.”, i replied.

Connor nodded his head, before i decided to enter one of the rooms. My hand had a tight grip on my gun, that my belt was holding, but it wasn’t needed, the room was just as empty as the rest of the house.

Connor scanned the entire room as he suddenly crouched down, reaching out his arm. I watched as his fingers touched the blue liquid on the floor as he took a taste of it. I’m used to him doing this but i still scrunch up my face every time. “The androids blood is still fresh, he must’ve been here just a few minutes ago.”, he said.

My eyes were wide, interested in what he had to say. “And maybe he saw the cop car and us approaching the house. He probably fled cause he was too afraid to face the situation.”, Connor added to it as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Well, wouldn’t you do the same.”, i said with a slight smirk on my face, to which he was taken back. A nervous expression was painted all over his face once again, making my smile just grow wider. “I guess you’re right, Y/N.”, he replied, in a soft voice.

He had such a warm and welcoming look on his face as his eyes were fixed on me. You could say i was melting right on spot, trying not to show it too much. I could see his led on his face turning yellow for a moment, meaning he was just scanning me.

He quickly looked away though, now staring at the ground, which gave me the opportunity to silently watch him. He hasn’t said anything about what he has found out. Was I showing signs of anxiety? Most definitely.

“What’s wrong Connor? Are you nervous?”, i boldly asked, making him raise his head. “Nervous? Oh i was just-“, “You don’t have to lie to me, Connor.”, i chuckled, taking a step closer to him.

His cheeks were flushed and i could swear my heart was racing at this point. I’ve never had a guy being this cute, i also never had something going on with an android, nor have i ever felt anything for one. But with Connor it’s different.

And i wasn’t the only one who was all up in my mind, Connor seemed like his thoughts were overflowing. I may regret this forever now or my future me will be thankful i did this, when i decided to reach for his hand. My fingertips touched his skin as i grabbed his soft hand, my thumb slowly moving over the back of it.

His face was only turning into a deeper red tone and i wasn’t even able to read it. His eyes turned even softer if that’s possible and they were staring right into mine. My knees felt weak, but at least they could still hold my weight, right?

Connor on the other hand looked like he didn’t know what to do at all. I was in charge of the situation, which i myself couldn’t believe with a man like him. But it’s not like i didn’t enjoy any of this. Instead i moved closer to his body, till i could feel his breath, till our lips were only a few inches apart.

Soon to be, there was no space between us left anymore. Our lips finally touched and i was taken by surprise of how good his lips felt on mine. Connor’s lips moved smoothly against my own, my hand moving to the back of his head. I gently took a hold of his wrist, guiding his hand to my waist, placing it right there.

I didn’t know that androids could have such soft lips, due to my lack of experience with them. Connor probably hasn’t had any of them yet, but he’s even cuter this way. I never would’ve thought, that i would make the first move.

The kiss lasted for a good while, but someone just had to ruin it. “Hey guys, have you found-“, Hank rushed into the room, cutting off his own sentence when he saw the scene in front of him. We broke apart real fast as i spun my head around, facing the disappointed Hank.

“Hank we can explain-“, Connor tried to talk, but was now the one to be cut off. “Really?”, Hank said all bored, shaking his head. I could hear out the sarcasm though, he wasn’t mad at us for doing this. “And i thought this would never happen.”, he continued. Right, he was just mad it didn’t happen any sooner.

[scapegh0st]

One-Way Mirror (Gavin Reed x Reader)

Summary: Both Gavin and Reader suck at feelings Content: NSFW 18+, gn!Reader, smut, angst, hurt/no comfort, fingerfucking, dirty talk, friends with benefits, unresolved feelings, unrequited love, basically just angsty smut Word Count: 1.6k read on ao3

You love him.

Or at least you think you do.

Sure, Gavin Reed is the resident asshole of the Detroit Police Department and he can be hard to swallow—both figuratively and literally—but he's something more to you. He's an enigma that you want to—need to—figure out.

You glance up at him from your kneeling position, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other between your legs. His head is thrown back and his bottom lip is between his teeth. You think he’s pretty like this, with his eyes shut and that screwed-up look of pleasure on his face.

When he’s like this, he doesn’t notice you staring—doesn’t make some dickish comment like “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” It’s one of the few times he’s actually quiet—besides the soft muffled sounds coming from his mouth. 

You don’t think he loves you back. You really just think that he’s incapable of love, incapable of being more than this.

He lets you see him like this because you understand him—because you get him. He can call you as many names as he likes and you always shoot them back— dickwad, douchebag, asshole. He likes that about you, you think—that you can match his energy.

Your lips wrap around the head, tongue swirling around like you have to taste every inch of him. He lets out a groan—if he could sink right through the mattress, you think he would. He’s melting and you know that you’re the heat that molds him.

“Fuck… ” he mutters, one of his hands running through his hair and the other gripping your head. He doesn’t push you—he knows better—but he knows you like when he grips your hair. You hum around him before taking him deeper into your mouth.

He’s like water in your hands, slipping through despite how much you try to cup them and keep him there. He’s always two steps away even when he’s right here.

He pulls you off of him, his eyes open and he looks down at you. He’s panting and the wrinkle between his brows deepens. “I don’t wanna finish like this,” he says, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “Come on, get up here.”

It’s not a demand or an order like he usually gives you, it’s something more blurred—his voice is gentle, not full of spite and a lack of sleep. He’s asking you, letting you deny him even though he needs this. You need this.

You push yourself off the ground and join him on the bed. He’s on top of you in seconds, yanking your pants down your legs–your belt makes a clinking sound when they hit the floor.

There’s this glint in his eyes that you only see when he’s hovering over you. You know it’s probably nothing– just a trick your mind is playing on you–but you swear it means something, that this is what he can give you. It’s not quite love, but it’s enough. It has to be enough.

One of his fingers fills you, drawing a sharp exhale from your lungs. He adds another and your hand clasps over your mouth, drowning the sounds into your palm. He grins that cocky grin that would usually piss you off in any other circumstance—but he’s proud of himself and you're okay with letting him have this. You’d let him tear you apart if he asked.

“Yeah? You like that?” He questions, his own type of pillow talk. “I don’t even have to do this—you’re always ready for me like the good whore you are.”

You should feel insulted—you don’t. Instead, you respond with a muffled moan and a slight head nod. He seems to like that answer as he adds a third finger. 

Your free hand grips the sheets and you feel like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground. If heaven was real, you were sure this was it.

“Nobody else makes you feel this good, do they?”

No, they don’t. Nobody else makes you feel like they’re holding your head underwater and that you trust them enough to pull you up for air when you need it. Like sleep to the freezing. Something so good but so wrong.

He pulls out his fingers and you whine, eyes snapping open to narrow in frustration at him. He just laughs that god-awful laugh that you love despite how much it grates your ears.

“What? Is something wrong?” You can hear the smirk in his voice—he’s so smug and you want to fucking throttle him.

You open your mouth to fire back but you’re swiftly shut up by his cock filling you. He’s never gentle when he’s fucking you—it’s hard and it’s fast and it pulls you apart. You’re not sure you ever want him to fuck you any differently.

Your eyes find his face as his hips piston into you, grunts escaping his throat. He’s not looking at you— he never does. You’re always watching him and he’s never seeing you. 

His eyes are closed and you wonder if he’s imagining someone else. Someone more pliable to what he wants. You’re made of stone—he can chip away but he never can mold you into something easier to hold. You’ll always have sharp edges—he grabs you like he doesn’t care if he slices his hand.

You close your own eyes, trying to think of someone else. An old hookup. Your last Tinder date. That new android detective, Connor—you know Gavin would hate the thought and you can’t do that to him, not even subconsciously.

Gavin’s presence in your head is overbearing. Every choice you make somehow leads back to him, from your choice of clothing to the life-or-death decisions you’re forced to make each day.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Gavin grabs one of your hands and interlaces your fingers. It’s so… intimate —you don’t know what to think. His hand in yours makes this real—at least to you. It tells you that he’s aware of you for once, that he’s not just fucking a hole— he’s fucking you and he’s conscious of it.

He slams into you again, his head coming down to the crook of your neck. You can feel his breath against your skin, soft pants as he thrusts in and out. “Fuckin’ hell,” he groans, the fingers of his other hand digging into your hip. “You’re so good for me.”

You want it to mean more than it does to him. You could be good for him, you think, you keep him grounded yet you share the same misery—the same reliance on caffeine and these exchanges of endorphins. Maybe you could make him happy, outside of the serotonin he receives when he’s filled you. You’d dote on him; dress up for him, make him a lunch for work, and have coffee ready for him in the morning. It’s a pipe dream and you know it.

“You’re so fucking… fuck… you’re so tight,” the words stumble from his lips as they usually do—he’s close. 

Your free hand reaches down to play with yourself, to bring yourself right to the edge with him. If he asked you to jump, you’d ask how high.

His mouth presses against your neck, his teeth hovering over your carotid. He holds your life in his mouth and you trust him with it despite all the signs warning against it. He’s fire and you’re gasoline.

“I’m gonna–” his hips start to stutter. “Fuck.”

You tumble over the edge with him, legs quaking where they wrap around his waist. He collapses onto you, knocking the air from your lungs—it’s suffocating and you love it.

He lets go of your hand and pushes himself up, sliding out of you with ease. He sits back on his knees, hands on his thighs as he catches his breath. He raises a hand to drag over his face, wiping away the sweat. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s not really here with you. You wish he was.

His eyes shift to the wall to his right. He never looks at you straight when he’s done—you wonder if he regrets it.

You wish he’d just lay down beside you and pull you close. That he’d kiss your head and promise you things he’s not sure he should. He won’t and you’ve accepted that. This is what he can give you and you’re fine with that. You can savor him better like this—if he gave into you, you’re sure you’d eat him whole.

He slides his legs out from underneath himself, one of them resting on its side on the bed and the other pulled to his chest. His arm rests on his knee, his knuckles pressed against the side of his face. You’d paint him like this if you knew how.

“Well,” his eyes flicking in your direction but focusing on anything that isn’t you. “I’m gonna shower.”

He gets up and heads towards his connected bathroom. You wanna reach out and stop him. You wanna ask why he won’t look at you–why he can’t look at you. He acts like you’re the sun—he orbits around you without ever staring at you too long. You might burn him if he does.

“Gav,” you croak out, the first word you’ve said since you've entered his apartment. 

He looks at you like you’re the weight on his shoulders—familiar but unwelcome. Or maybe he’s the weight on yours. You aren’t sure.

“‘The fuck you want?” he asks. You know he doesn’t mean for it to come out so rotten—that’s just the way he talks and he knows you understand. But it hurts you this once.

You love him. 

You want to tell him—it’s on the tip of your tongue like a word you can’t quite find.

“Don’t slip, dumbass,” you answer with a cheshire grin—it’s forced and you know that he knows.

 It’s better that you don’t .

[sludge-saturday]

guidance

pairing: connor rk800 x gn!reader

summary: fresh out of the revolution, connor is still adjusting to his deviancy. his very existence has given the word "life" an entirely new meaning, and he is experiencing some inner turmoil surrounding his true purpose now that he has free will. will you help him navigate these complex feelings?

tags: comfort, fluff, upset connor

warnings: none!

word count: 1,483

a/n: HUGE THANK YOU to @thiriumstains for submitting this request!! for the purposes of this fic, deviated androids can cry when their systems are overloaded with information, and mimic human-like sleep behaviors when going into sleep mode! i hope you enjoy :]

☆ as your keys jingled in the door handle, you could hear the vigilant barks of your golden retriever and hear the sound of his paws trotting up to the doorway. connor, with similar dog-like reflexes, started getting up from his place on the couch as soon as he heard the clamor from the entrance to your shared apartment. opening the door you excitedly greeted your furry friend as he jumped on you, licking your face in appreciative excitement.

☆ "y/n, welcome home!" connor said. eager to assist, he takes some of the bags out of your arms and sets them on the table. like the gentleman he is, he helps you out of your jacket and hangs it on the hook next to the doorframe. you turn around to look at him, feeling refreshed just by the sight of him after a long day away. and, just by looking into connor's eyes, you can tell he feels similarly. with this shared glance of cherishment, your bodies are like magnets with the way they move toward each other for an embrace.

☆ "i've missed you so much." connor sighs, resting his head on your shoulder. his grip on you was strong, as if he was finally finding solace after running from something stronger than him. your bodies lingered in their positions for a moment before you both pulled away, connor's hands squeezing your arms before dropping to his sides. you studied his face unconsciously and realized that something looked amiss about the way he looked. his cheeks were glistening and his eyes looked glossier than normal. "connor," you started cautiously, afraid of upsetting him. "are you feeling alright?"

☆ connor's eyes widened slightly, a micro-expression that most wouldn't notice, and he straightened his posture. he felt as though he had been caught doing what he wasn't supposed to. the truth is, he didn't know what was happening to him. he has only been deviated for a few weeks, and this was the first time since then that he's felt so... overwhelmed. but he couldn't tell you, the thought of doing so only amplified the sensation. trying his best to maintain his usual calm and collected appearance, connor unknowingly gave you a sad smile. "all of my systems are perfectly functional," he lied. "what makes you say that?"

☆ looking into connor's eyes as he tilted his head to the side, you saw more than he was letting on. his gaze looked pained, specifically the kind of pain that you feel you must hide for the sake of others. neither of you knew what deviance would hold for connor, but you were determined to help him through everything. "i don't mean to pry, but you look upset. don't feel obligated to tell me anything you don't want to, but i want you to know that i'm here for you." you smiled gently at him to punctuate your message.

☆ shame continued to bubble within connor, steadfast and and committed. he didn't want you to see him like this, but, deep down, he knew he couldn't keep this at bay any longer. all it took was one blink for tears to drip down his cheeks once more, and your heart clenched at the sight. connor's hand flew up to wipe his face, embarrassed that he couldn't control what was happening to him. actually, it was quite frightening for him.

☆ "i'm sorry, i-" he whispered, eyes cast downward. the tone of voice in which he spoke revealed just how out of control he felt. "i don't know what's happening. my optical units- my eyes- they don't need additional lubricant." it was concerning, to say the least, watching the usually composed android unravel like this. you reached out and pulled him close to you, making a silent promise to yourself that you were going to take care of him. "what's wrong, connor?" you knew that you were gonna have to coax him through this, that he needed guidance through this uncharted territory.

☆ "i don't have a mission," he spoke, just above a whisper. taking his frame in your hands you turned him to face you, his face was perturbed and his eyes still lowered. "what?" you softly urged. his teary eyes met yours with a look of disbelief. "...i don't have a mission. what am i supposed to do without a purpose to fulfill? without a goal to meet?" connor's voice shakes. "my entire existence has been ruled by objectives. i was activated to serve as a tool for humans to use, and i was okay with that. but now... now-" he covered his face with his hands, leaning forward as a heavy sob shook his body.

☆ your hand instinctively reached to rub his back as he wept, your touch letting him know that he didn't have to go through this alone. he wasn't used to this: to not having feelings, to people wanting to know how he's feeling in the first place, it was all too much. he's never experienced this kind of input running through his circuitry before. "do you want to talk about this?" you said, continuing to rub his back. he lifted his head back up to eye level, looking so, so broken.

☆ he didn't want to, he couldn't admit that he needed help. all he'd known was how to be the help others needed. how was he supposed to accept it for himself? connor stayed silent, staring at the ground as more tears rolled down his cheeks. in an act of immense courage, connor nodded, and that was all of the confirmation you needed to try and lead him into the right direction. "the truth is, us humans, we don't know what we're doing either. we may seem like we already know what our futures have in store for us, but some of us, not all of us, know deep down that tomorrow is never promised."

☆ connor sat and listened. he didn't interject, become distracted, or avert his gaze as you spoke. "it's more than okay to not know what your destination is yet, what's most important is that the journey is savored. part of having human-like qualities is to doubt, to question, and to be unsure." you paused, getting up from the couch to move toward your shared bedroom. you reached out your hand to him, knowing how much he's valued physical touch since he deviated.

☆ "and don't forget, you still have duties you can fulfill at the precinct. no one's gonna take that away from you." you said, walking the two of you through the doorframe. "but you also don't have to be tied to that place anymore if you don't want to. its your decision, in the end." you moved to your dresser and rifled through the drawers for pajamas to wear. connor did the same, itching to get into more comfortable clothes. you both faced away from each other as you changed, but the conversation did not cease.

☆ "it will take a lot of getting used to, this freedom. i'm not doubting that. but i want you to know that i'm gonna be here for you the whole time." you finished changing and moved towards the bed. "even if you think you have no one, you'll have me. got it?" you affirmed, peeling the blankets back. nestling inside, you patted the spot next to you on the bed. "come," you beckoned. "i'm sure you're exhausted." connor walked over, still silent, and slid underneath the covers.

☆ you smoothed a hand over his hair as you two laid side by side, facing each other. "the beautiful thing about this is," a yawn overtakes your sentence. "you are now the director of your own destiny. no one gets to tell you what to do anymore. its up to you to decide what you want your mission to be." your eyelids grew heavy as your hand slid down to rest on his side protectively. "this is your life, connor. you have the power to choose how it unfolds for yourself."

☆ your eyes fluttered, fighting the creeping, persistent grasp of slumber. connor noted this, and, with the same small voice he spoke in before, he whispered: "thank you. i... need time to process... and reflect... but..." he paused again. "thank you." connor shifted his eyes from looking down at the mattress to meeting yours, but yours were already closed. aching to join you and to finally release this burden for the time being, he began the process of entering sleep mode.

☆ taking in his last moments of wakefulness, he couldn't help but wonder: did you hear him? his eyes were closed, but he felt the mattress shift as your dog jumped on the bed to snuggle between you two. as he laid there, counting down the seconds to sleep, he swore he could have heard the ghost of a voice float through his auditory processor. "always." it said.

[inkk-ubus]

I couldn’t get singer Connor being like a siren to Hank out of my head🎶⭐️

I’m curious, what do u guys imagine Connor’s singing voice to sound like? I feel like he’d have that breathy, smooth, jazzy/r&b sound. Similar to Sade and maybe some Jeff Buckley songs🤭

Inspired by this fic!!

[thisfanisgonesorry]

Pls.pls.pls if requests are still open and if you feel like it, I need more Norman Jayden🥲man's frustratingly underrated (like wth?)

yes yes yes!! thats what im saying!!! i love him so much why is hr such a niche fandom >:( p.s excuse this being an unfinished kinktober draft from last year yikes :sob:

tags: m!sub, smut, canon deviance. intox / drug play (tw!), car sex, creampie, use of triptocaine, i think thats it :P

🌧️—

The gravel on the road rattled under the wheels of his car as he drove down the backroads. A laser-focused glare, his hands twitching on the steering wheel as he tried to focus. A light pang of guilt, a grim frown. He pulled off to the side, hidden behind fences and facing train tracks. The slight sludging sound of the car’s wheels sinking into the mud.

The car came to a slow stop as the rain pittered on the roof, blurring the windows from prying eyes as he fiddled with the blue vial. He groaned, pulling the metal bar under his seat and pushing it all the way back, then pulling me onto his lap.

“Sorry to take you out here.” He mumbled, as his hands brushed up and down my skin. His lips glided across my collarbone with a low groan. 

“S’okay.” 

“Hotel room ain’t safe f’us..” He trailed off, mouthing softly at my shoulder and neck in an attempt to be apologetically reassuring. His mouth pulled away with a short and shaking inhale, he leaned back and fiddled with the vial.

He opened it with a pop of the lid, one finger pressed against the opposite side of his nose and he gave a sharp inhale, snorting half of the vial and leaning his head back onto the headrest with a shaky sigh. “That’s the stuff.” He mumbled before holding towards me. “You wanna hit?”

I took it from his hand and held it to my nose, inhaling the last half while tilting my head backwards, slumping down into his arms, going partially limp and letting the vile slip out of my hands and onto the floor somewhere to be incriminating evidence at a later date.

“Thank you, baby.” I crooned, leaning into him and letting my lips brush against his neck. He let out a breathy moan and nodded into it, holding me tightly against him.

“Just keep kissin’ me, gorgeous, gotta let it hit.” He rasped out gently, sinking into the seat as I took control. His hands kept running up and down my sides, and he reached down momentarily, spinning the dial for the chair to lay less upright.

He loved the weight, laying down with me on top of him and letting us sink into the chair. He was limp, slumped against the fabric of the carseat. His eyes glazed over as he tried to enjoy the feeling, what little strength he had left he used to support my body that was lazily draped over his.

It only took a few moments to settle in. I sighed, shuffling around to grind into his hips lazily, waiting for the sudden renewal to hit me like a train. His breathing was ragged as he shuffled his hips, unbuckling his belt and trying to tug them down.

“I missed you.” He breathed, tugging at our clothes with a fervour to get them off. His shirt was thrown over the back of the seat and his pants pulled to his thighs, his hands fiddled between the hem of my shirt and my waistband.

I drew my hands to pull down my shorts with a lazily hum. “Missed you.” I lifted my hips, brushing my nose against the top of his head as I kicked the fabric to the floor. “So bad.”

My position made him nuzzle his face into the curve of my chest. His body trembled as he took off my shirt, throwing it in the backseat, and his mouth exploring the expanse of my torso.

My fingers laced through his hair, with a smug grin, his lips wrapped around the nub, earning a choked moan. “Cold?” He hummed, feeling them harden under the rain-clad air. I huffed in dry amusement, reaching behind me to turn on the heat, the air blowing through the car. “Smart.” He mumbled, not disconnecting from the skin.

His fingers danced across the flesh, short groans eliciting from his throat as his mouth stayed preoccupied. He dipped down, rubbing the insides of my thighs before grazing higher, and rubbing two fingers between the folds. His thumb running circles with a hazy look of adoration.

He tilted his face upwards, taking in the look on my face as he sunk his fingers deep, lazy circles on my clit. I nodded blankly, my hands digging into his hair, tugging at the locks to hear the lewd sounds that left his mouth. Both as vocal as the day is long. 

“Please, let me fuck you.” He asked softly, his fingers pumping and curling softly, feeling the wetness drip into his palm. “Please.”

His voice was breathless and pitchy like a child about to break into tears, low whispers of pleads filling the air as his fingers curled. My mind was too far away, too distant to fully distinguish the words from the slight ringing in my ears from the perfect way he pushed into my squishy spot that was calling his name.

My nails dug into his shoulders with a vacant nod, and he nodded back slowly. “Come on, say it.” He whispered, needing that vocal permission; “Tell me you’re here, gorgeous.”

“I’m here.” I sighed at his slowed movements, my body slumping slightly and head resting forward on his shoulder. “Yes, you can—” My body tense but languid at the same time, feeling everything all at once jolt through me as my mind ran hurdles to balance it out.

“Yeah?” He breathed with a lopsided grin, taking no time to shimmy his hips into place.

His hand tightly wrapped around his cock as he rubbed the tip between the wetness. His hips bucking as he slid himself up and down. I nodded, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered whenever his needy tip brushed against the entrance.

He slid in with a breathless groan, feeling the warmth, it was almost overwhelming as the chills covered his body. “Oh, fuck.” A small sigh as his body writhed against the seat. He pushed deeper and deeper. 

I bit my lip, hovering over him until his hands gripped my waist and pulled me down into his lap. An atypical rhythmic pattern of sloppy movements, moving my hips back and forth, audible grunts drawing from his throat.

My senses slowly started to come back to me, shuffling my knees to his sides and beginning to move myself in time. His throat constricted tightly and silent pants for air were all that were audible as his lips chased mine, but never connecting.

“You feel so good, so damn good.” I praised as I moved my hips so he’d nudge where I wanted him to. “I missed this.”

He vacantly agreed, his hips rolling desperately as he watched me slowly fall and then rise on him, his head lolled to the side as his lips ghosted my skin, my cheek, my jaw, my neck. “God, please use me.” He whined, wanting more, more, more.

I shuffled my knees again to support my weight, my hands on his shoulders as I slowly dragged myself up the space of his cock, then moving down harshly. On each downstroke, the soft tip would roughly hit the spongy spot inside, a blissed out moans from both of us filled the compact space.

His body trembled, his arms loosely draped around my waist and spine, his mind reeling with the bruising pace that shook the car. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” I slurred out, head lolling to the sides like I didn’t have the strength to hold it up. “It’s been too long.”

“Yeah. Has.” He responded simply, words bouncing around his skull in an attempt to form sentences like a DVD screen saver. His back would arch, pressing into me, before he’d slump back down into his comfortably languid state.

“Help..” I whined, pulling at his hands to help me fuck myself on him, my knees buckling at the exhaustion that strung itself through my body. He picked up quickly, his hands digging into the soft skin above my hips, digging his nails in and moving me in time. His body almost perked to activity at the request to do something besides lazily dragging his lips across my skin. 

“That’s it, use me to get off, fuck.” A strangled moan dragged from his pink lips, swollen and slightly bruised from the way he tried to muffle himself and tried to press love on my skin. He was half mindless, too content to think; Why would he? His dream girl sitting on his lap, feeling higher than heaven.

The build up was overwhelming yet slow paced — an innate inability to relax enough to feel it due to the way high stakes euphoria spiked every inch of the body between my toes and my fingers.

My fingers dug into his hair and his eyes were glued on me, astonished by the view. A light golden hue in the car from the overhead light, the pitter-patter of rain on the roof, the blowing huff of the heater, and his girl perched on his lap like a prize.

“Fuck me like ‘m a toy, gorgeous.” He whined, jerking his hips to meet my thrusts, his words slurred and coming out like ‘gorjus’, “I’m close.”

His hips jerked in time with my downstrokes, and my hips rolled against his before they separated. The space between our thighs was a sticky mess, and I moaned in agreement. The train tracks rumbled in the distance as I felt elated, like I was floating on air.

My body was taut, my stomach clenched and my pussy squeezing him tightly. He let out a choked groan and I ran my fingers through his hair, cupping his face. “I’m gonna cum—” He warned.

His thighs clenched as he tried to hold it back, but he didn’t stop the tight grip on my waist, I didn’t stop the way I moved on my knees. “Me too.” I whispered. HIs head buried into my neck with a whimper, mouthing at the skin with tender kisses, something to keep his mouth busy to keep himself from the imminent.

His cock twitched as he felt the warm, wet space strangle him, he knew it was close, too close to keep fighting it back, tears pricking his eyes as he let out choked moans. “Where you want it?” He begged, barely able to get out the words.

“Anywhere.”

A sob clawed at his throat. “Please, inside— god, inside, I want it inside.” 

He felt the rhythmic pulse around him and his head threw back, thrashing against the headrest with a low groan. The train tracks vibrating, the loudness of its approach counteracting the ringing in my ears as my back arched, my rigid body pulling away from him as I dug my nails into his shoulders as grounding.

The bright light from the larger vehicle riveted into the cabin, a white glow that illuminated him, the jaw slack and knitted brows, arched upwards and creasing his forehead as he tried not to clamp his eyes shut.

“Norm—” Almost silent cries left my throat, muffled by being so close to the tracks, and as the train droned past, he forcibly pulled me into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me into his chest and burying himself into my neck.

His moans vibrated through me as his hips jerked with vigour, before pushing to the deepest point, “Oh, fuck, I’m—” With that same pitchy whine, stammering wildly, his cockhead twitching as he felt his release wash over him like cold water. 

Our bodies melted together, limp and tired, sweaty and engrossed in each others presence. Head resting on each others shoulders as the hum of the heater broke the silence between our pants for air. It was like a sudden crash, hitting all at once and now the exhaustion set it quickly.

“D’ya wanna turn on the radio?” He mumbled awkwardly with a kiss to the shoulder, shuffling his body to keep the embrace. A long silence filled as the 8-track played, the guitar instrumental playing us out as we set ourselves in the embrace, uncaring of the world outside, uncaring of being perceived, and uncaring of the bite the cold air brought.

The return of the Thin White Duke. Throwing darts in lovers’ eyes — here are we, one magical moment. Such is the stuff from where dreams are woven.

[extollwest]

twinkling;

notes: inspired by detroit: become human, as you might guess from some of the hints within the text. started writing this as a oneshot, but figured it might become a longer fanfic in the future ;) btw back on my hyper-descriptive writing grind. let me know what you think!

Thick crystals of white obscure your vision, resting upon the delicate parapet of lashes viciously protecting your glazed eyes from the tumultuous, unforgiving cold. You blink once and feel the blood within your fingertips gelatinize and thicken, scrunching your digits and attempting to feel your nails dig into the soft flesh of your reddened palm.

With a second blink, the glassy image of a sliding entrance echoes in your brain. The metal framing scrapes against the concrete floor, lapping at the shallow waters of a murky puddle below. Your gaze focuses on the image trapped between the enameled glass, bright blue and white, and flashing with unfamiliar logos and slogans that burn into your mind from the scorching hot LEDs.

Join us for a better tomorrow.

“Miss?” rings from behind you, in front, right, and left. The tenor surrounds your hazed bubble, dipping into your cerebral cortex and drawing your eyes into unfortunate focus. The ambiance emerges clearly, assaulting your perception with the metropolitan symphony of motor engines and public chatter. A sharp pang within your brain urges you to groan, pink mittens grazing at your sore temples as a face emerges beneath the surface of your milky white breath.

“Is everything alright?” the young man in front of you speaks with a bureaucratic concern, his forehead forming even folds whose detail somehow sends your head into another frenzy of pain. However, there is a charm to his mannerisms, and you haven’t failed to notice how his eyebrows scrunch and release when met with the cold, white crystals. They melt on the slope of his forehead, cascading droplets down the cheeks. Is he smiling?

“Yes,” you reply squeakily, forcing your dominant arm to flex and fix the tote hanging off your puff coat. You congratulate yourself on the impulsive purchase you made years back as a side-thought. “Yes. I’m alright, thank you. I’m just tired, just here to do shopping. Do groceries, y’know.”

His skin is milky white and carefully speckled with brown moles. They rest upon his temples, cheeks, and nose like little constellations, and the visual makes you think of your last summer in Texas, right before you moved to Detroit. The sky was clear the night you received that call, and the wet grass tickled your calves.

The memory, albeit warm, makes you wince and suddenly you realize that the greyish sunlight behind the stranger’s head begins to vanish behind the tall city horizon.

The cold starts to seep through your thick layers, nipping at your skin harshly as you squeeze the linen in your palm. You need to get home.

“Thanks for the concern,” you nod politely, and the man mirrors your mannerisms. You catch a glimpse of his fading smile as you cross the street, and when you turn around his outline disappears behind the white flurry, overpowered by the fluorescent colors of the ‘24/7’ sign of the supermarket.

As you navigate through an unfamiliar neighborhood with the weight of this week’s groceries resting upon your shoulder, you’re momentarily overcome with serenity.

[too-attached-to-fiction]

hot off the press | Detroit: Become Human

Read on ao3

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,336

Summary:

Humans, Connor realized, had a tendency to attach themselves to non-sentient objects. Officer Wilson and Officer Chen had taken the liberty of naming the copy machine with blocky, crooked felt stickers. They insisted to Connor that he refer to the machine as ‘The Titan’. Even Hank, who acted as if he was above the officers’ antics, called it by its assigned name. They treated no other machine or android with this sense of care or humor. ~~~ Connor tries to understand the nuanced relationship between machines and the officers at DCPD.

AN: I refuse to believe that Connor is the most chaotic being in the precinct. I also refuse to believe that the officers are cold to each other, given their proximity. Were it not for janitorial androids, a Roomba would have been included in this as well.

Humans were contradictory. Connor had known that since he'd been commissioned. They were unpredictable, so he had to be prepared for every scenario he could possibly encounter while working at the Detroit City Police Department. 

Before he deviated, most of his colleagues were kind, but distant. They seemed to be wary of the idea that an android had been created to do their job. Connor understood why they felt threatened, but the way they expressed their feelings often made him wonder if they preferred for him to stay out of their social spaces altogether. 

His programming hadn’t prepared him for their social nature post-deviancy. The officers had warmed, slowly, following Hank’s lead. But Connor knew not everyone would accept him, or what he represented. 

What he found odd, though, was their affection for non-sentient objects. Overall, they were suspicious of Cyberlife and the androids, but they praised any machine that fulfilled it’s purpose - without talking back. 

While most of the files in the precinct had been digitized, Connor had learned that not everyone preferred reading off of tablets; namely, Captain Fowler and Lieutenant Anderson. Paperwork was mostly filled in by hand, then scanned and uploaded by the copy machine. 

The copy machine. Singular. 

The copy machine, like the humans, was entirely unpredictable. It had been bought when Detective Reed was an officer, at least five years prior to Connor’s arrival. It made noise even when no one was near it. Considering how often people used it, the machine had worn faster than other models that had been on the market at the time it was bought. Connor had suggested at least once that they should replace it. 

Hank said the machine didn’t need replacing. Detective Reed had scowled and asked how Connor would feel if they replaced him. Connor hadn’t bothered to explain to Reed how deviancy altered the process of replacement.

Humans, Connor realized, had a tendency to attach themselves to non-sentient objects. Officer Wilson and Officer Chen had taken the liberty of naming the copy machine with blocky, crooked felt stickers. They insisted to Connor that he refer to the machine as ‘The Titan’. Even Hank, who acted as if he was above the officers’ antics, called it by its assigned name. 

They treated no other machine or android with this sense of care or humor. Captain Fowler steered clear of using the Titan, as he had his own printer and scanner in his office. 

Despite the officers in rotation changing the decorations on the wall above the copier to match upcoming holidays, the Titan was growing old. IT had called in a mechanic at one point, who had, point-blank, told Captain Fowler that the Titan was on its last legs. It would be cheaper to replace than to repair, they’d reasoned. Upon hearing this, Fowler had glanced to the bullpen. The officers had argued that they should get a say in the equipment they used and uncharacteristically voted unanimously to keep the copier. From that point on, Officers Chen and Wilson were the de-facto repairmen for the Titan, which broke approximately once a week. 

When the Titan inevitably printed blank pages or produced a crumpled sheet of paper, other members of the force would watch in mild amusement and embarrassment as their coworkers opened up every possible component to assess the problem. The first time Connor had witnessed the repair attempts, Hank had put an arm across Connor’s chest and shaken his head. 

“It’s easier if you let them do it,” Hank had said. 

“But what about the decrease in productivity?” Connor had asked. 

“We’re not the only police unit in Detroit,” Hank had replied, snorting into his coffee as they watched Chen baby-talk to the Titan as Wilson hissed and swore and poked its buttons. Officer Lewis, Chen’s partner, stood nearby, unhelpfully suggesting solutions that Wilson promptly ignored. Wilson pulled his fingers out of one of the crevices of the machine, which were covered in ink. He waved to Connor with a grin before smearing said ink on the linoleum around the copier. 

Connor had glanced back at the windows of Captain Fowler’s office and found that the captain was also amused, if not a little irritated, by the antics in the bullpen. The captain made no move to leave his office. Instead, he closed his eyes, pinched the crease in between his eyebrows, and heaved a sigh.  

Inevitably, Chen would force Detective Reed to join Wilson in examining the ink cartridges. She never made Hank or Detective Collins participate in this weekly ritual and seemed to find a large amount of joy from making Reed help them in resuscitating the copier. Reed listened to Chen more than his fellow detectives and officers. Theories of the two dating had circulated with no definitive conclusions. At the very least, Chen had Reed right where she wanted him, and gleefully abused that power for this specific activity. 

“May I ask what the point of this is?” Connor had quietly asked Officer Lee on another occasion as they watched Chen and Wilson carefully arrange office supplies in a semi-circle in front of the copier. 

“It’s easier if they let their freak flags fly here than while on patrol,” Lee hummed. 

Freak? Flag? 

“Yeah, even highly intelligent people have the need to act stupid every once in a while. That’s why Fowler lets us do this, anyway.” 

After many compliments and prayers, the Titan was plugged in again and almost always, it went back to being functional. 

And Reed would swear up and down that he wasn’t going to be dragged into next week’s ceremony as Chen and Wilson cheered, and they’d all disperse, back to their desks. 

A new copier was arriving, Fowler announced at the morning briefing. He’d mentioned to the higher-ups that it was ridiculous that they could find money in the budget for multiple androids and not enough for an updated copier. Connor wondered, absently, if a civilian had witnessed their activities and complained about the use of their tax dollars.

Reed sighed in relief. Lee and Lewis had taken it upon themselves to comfort Wilson and Chen by patting them on their backs. Hank grumbled into his first coffee of the morning, and Connor found himself wondering what would replace the weekly spectacle of watching no less than four of Detroit’s finest attempt to fix a copier. 

The department mourned for a full day. Fowler called another briefing the next morning and said that they were allowed to name their patrol cars, but they could not personalize them for security’s sake, Lewis. The offending officer had slumped in his seat and told the captain he had no sense of humor. The captain had stared back at Lewis until he’d apologized and dismissed himself from the rest of the briefing. 

Less than 24 hours after the briefing, a name had been tacked onto the coffee machine, complete with a post-it note with a smiley face on it covering the small screen. Someone had had the bright idea to call the small appliance ‘Joe’. 

Connor quickly accessed the surveillance of the bullpen and discovered that Detective Reed had been the last one in the break room. 

“Did you name the coffee machine?” Connor asked when he found Reed alone in the bathroom. 

“Nope.” 

“I saw the footage.” 

Gavin glared at him. “Tina wouldn’t shut up about the copier.” 

“But why-” 

Connor was cut off by the sound of footsteps and Gavin quickly covering Connor’s mouth. When the footsteps got quieter again, Gavin stepped away. 

“Don’t say a word,” Reed threatened. 

“I won’t,” Connor promised. 

Reed relaxed slightly. “Good.” 

Upon further research, Connor learned that the tradition of naming things was not uncommon amongst humans. The Titan and Joe were two out of many. 

When Joe broke for the first time, Connor became the one who fixed it. The humans cheered. And although he couldn’t understand their attachment, he found he didn’t mind indulging them if he received a round of applause in return. 

[precursor-ao3]

Chapter 7 (Part I Finale) of Deep Blue is live on AO3 and Wattpad!

[No preview this time, we're going in blind for the last chapter of Part I!}

Click Here for AO3 Click Here for Wattpad

[bitter-goodbyes]

Shameless self promotion <3

Connor started as the cat bumped her head against him, large amber eyes peering up at him, before tentatively running his hand along her back. A purr erupted out of her, and he quickly forgot about the case they were working at the moment. Gently picking her up and allowing her to settle down, he left to find the Lieutenant. He needed to show him his new friend.

Or: Author decides Connor needed a cat, so gives him one!!!

@detroitbecomeonline

[meanqueenkream]

POV: When Connor’s protective instincts for someone he cares about kick in.

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Getting Hurt While Protecting Them

Prompt: How do the Detriot Become Human characters react to you getting hurt while trying to protect them

Request: No

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, Mentions of abuse (Alice & Todd), mentions of blood, injury,

Characters: Kara, Marcus, Connor, Hank

A/N: This is something I had sitting in my writing binder for a little while and I thought I'd just go ahead and shore it here lol, if you come across it than please enjoy and leave feedback! The Deviant version will be next in line!

Kara

It was during a visit to your brother Tod's house, you were their to drop off some money. You knew he was addicted to the new drug on the market, Red Ice, so you had offered to help him pay his bills and hand him some money to take care of Alice in hopes that he would get back on his feet. As you were getting out of the car you heard a scream and rushed in to see a frightened Alice hiding behind Kara, a high Tod in front of them with a look that you weren't to happy about. He raised his hand to swing and before he even layed a finger on her you were in front of Kara taking the blow. You could almost hear the wind displaced by his handd as it swung down on your cheek,hard. As the sting of the slap subsides and the warmth of blood pooling to the surface of the area begins the taste of metal hits your tongue and you spit it out into a stray napkin giving your brother a vicious glare. As you turned and made sure Alice was okay, Kara examined you. As you turned to her to ask if she was okay she nodded, perplexed almost. You couldn't help but notice her LED flickering as she looked at you.

Marcus

You were a friend of Karl's, and made it a point to frequently visit him. Always kind, the type one would expect Karl to hang around, you encouraged Marcus to act freely and of his own accord rather than the order of others. One night, Leo - Karl's son- came around asking for some money. You offered it but on the orders of Karl, Marcus prevented you from funding any of the activities Leo got up to. Already not a fan of the android, Leo ignored him and took to trying to guilt trip his father instead while advancing closer to him. Marcus stepped between the two of them causing Leo to pause in his steady advancements towards his father. Leo, aggravated by the androids interferance, shoved Marcus out of the way but Marcus wouldn't have it. Before Marcus could even caculate the outcomes Leo to a step sending a large part of his body into a rage withdrawal induced punch. You, at the last few moments stepped between them takin the blow instead. Quickly realizing his mistake, Leo turned tail and rushed out of the area down the stairs and out the door while Marcus checked Karl's vitals.

"Why did you do that?" He questions once he is satisfied with what he had examined.

"I coulnd't very well just let the prick hurt you now could I?"

"Hm..." He doesn't respond, as if he is registering something.

Connor

Chasing Deviants was always a work out, it was better than the situation at hand though. A Deviant andriod had a knife held to Hank's throat while his 'friend' was running at Connor. You knew you needed Connor so when you realized what the deviant was going for, Connor's Thirium pump, you dove right in front of the attack. The hand sunk into your flesh leaving you out of breath right before its hand dug deeper into your skin and tore a sizable chunk from your stomach leaving you in pain. With the deviant distracted however, Connor was able to pin it down to thee ground and hand cuff it with the spares Hank had given him. At some point, to cope with pain, you had sat down and Connor came over to you and helped you up helping you head to the EMTs, the entire time his face looked off.

"Why are you looking at me like that Connor?"

"You are hurt, that deviant was not going to hurt you. "

"It was going for where your thorium pump is, we needed you functioning fully."

"I have several minutes before I cease to function without my Thirium pump, you did not need to interact in a way that was detrimental to your health."

"Instinct Connor, it was instinct to help us all okay? Just take it as face value, I sacrificed a chunk of my body to catch some Deviants and keep you safe."

"Besides, isn't that kind of trauma the thing that causes deviancy in androids?"

"I have no signs of deviancy."

"Sometimes I wish you did..."

Hank

You and Hank had partners for years and with Connor, injuries to humans such as yourself are more than prone to happening. He just came home from Jimmy's Bar, heavily drunk, when he was called to ,and entered, the crime scene. A deviant suspect snapped and engaged in a fist fight with it's owner before fleeing into the basement where it was now cornerd by you, Hank, and Connor. To save Hank from a long winded speech and the rest of the office from Hank and Fowlers less than civil disagreements, you stepped in front of Hank getting between him and the deviant. It took every chance and engaged in a fightt with you forcing you to take several blows before you could pin it down with the help of Connor. Seeing you bruised and bloodied was enough to sober him up, and the moment you three were back in the car he sent a long drawn out lecture about just how stupid your descision was.

"Do you have any idea how fucken stupid that was? What if that thing beat ya to death?"

"How about a thank you for saving your drunk ass from a deviant and Fowler?"

A beat of silence is followed by a sharp fatherly glare as you smirk and speak again.

"No? You just gonna ignore that?"

Hope you liked it! Feel free to request stuff!

[urfavbooblover]

I was wondering if you could bless us with something that’s Markus from Detroit? My life has flipped upside down the past few weeks and could use the pick me up 🖤

Hey thank you for your request! I’m so sorry that i published this so late, i’ve been on a break and only saw this now! I hope you’re doing better though and that you’ll still be happy about this imagine, even though it’s quite short :))

Paint shop || Markus x gender neutral reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

(remind me if I missed any)

- Detroit become human masterlist link -

Y/N’s pov:

“Damnit”, i cursed quietly to myself, standing in front of my shelf, my hands holding the tubes of my acrylic paint. They’re all empty, just as i was about to finally get back to finish my halfway done painting. How could i forget about this? I didn’t think twice, instead i immediately got dressed and ready to go buy some new ones.

As soon as i stepped outside, i was hit by the nice weather. I took in a deep breath of some fresh air before glancing down at my watch. I had enough time to take the lounger route, going for a nice walk, i thought to myself and made my way to the paint shop.

I arrived after a few minutes, opening the door to the shop. “Good afternoon!”, i greeted, seeing my favorite worker was here today. “Oh hey, Y/N!”, she replied, a big smile on her face. My eyes moved away from her for a moment, landing on an unfamiliar man. I never saw him around, or else i’m sure he would’ve already caught my eye.

“So, what are you searching for today?”, the cashier asked, snapping me back to reality. “Uh i just need some new paints, they’re empty once again,” i let out a small laugh, reminding myself i was here not even two weeks ago, to get some acrylics already. On top of that do i visit this shop at least twice a week.

“Oh i’m sure you know where to find them.”, she pointed out the fact that i know where everything was. “Of course!”, i smiled back at her, looking at the unknown man once again. He had a package in his hands and i wondered if he was interested in the same hobby as i am.

I made my way past him, making quick eye contact before standing in front of the shelf. Just a few seconds later, i picked out everything i needed, returning to the cashier. “Found everything?”, she kindly asked, expecting no other reply than yes from me.

We had a small chat and i eventually paid, existing the shop afterwards. My attention was fixed on my phone, causing me to bump into someone and dropping all my stuff. How usual.

“Fuck! I’m sorry.”, i said, looking up at the person who of course happened to be the guy i just saw in the shop already. “No it’s okay, i was standing here, blocking your way.”, he apologized, making me shake my head in disagreement. “I understand but i was literally all caught up on my phone. It’s my fault.”, i explained, eventually going down to pick up my stuff.

The man kneeled to the floor, helping me throughout it. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”, i softly smiled at him. “Nothing to thank for miss. At least your phone is whole.”, he said, telling me his name right after. “My names Markus by the way.”

“You’re right. I’m Y/N.”, i introduced myself back, the grin never leaving my face. I’m shocked how easy i can hold a conversation with him, i’m not so good with strangers i must say. “Oh, that’s a nice name, Y/N.”

That’s the first time i’ve heard this i thought as i could feel the heat forming in my cheeks. It’s coming from this attractive man on top of that. “Why thank you Markus. I really appreciate it.”, i spoke up, looking into his green eyes, that shined very beautiful in the sunlight.

“You’re welcome miss/sir.”, “It won’t be a problem to ask for your number no? I gotta get going and i’d love to catch up with you sometime again.”, he continued, tilting his head slightly to the side, keeping the eye contact.

My lips parted at this, my eyes falling on his hand that was already holding his phone towards me. “Oh that’s surely no problem! I’ll definitely find some time to meet ya.”, i responded, typing in my number as a new contact.

“Great! I’ll see you around, Y/N.”, i watched his face brightening up, before he turned around to leave. “See ya, Markus!”

I watched him a few more seconds and was just about to get to the path home, throwing a last glance into the paint shop. There she was standing. The cashier almost laughed at me, giving me a look to let me know she just witnessed the whole situation. I just playfully rolled my eyes at my friend, walking back home.

____________________________________________

Later at night, i laid in my bed as i was focused on the laptop in front of me. I heard a buzzing sound next to me and couldn’t help but immediately check from who the text was.

‘Hey Y/N, i don’t know if you’re still awake, but how does next Saturday sound?’

My lips turned up, happy that Markus hasn’t forgotten about me already.

[dbhstruggleposting]

Detroit: Become Human OC posting!🧡

I will try and fit everything into one decently sized post, but I'm MEGA AUTISTIC about my own OC, so lol! Some context: Finn was made before I even owned DBH, and before I saw anything related to DBH. He's actually originally a TF2/COD OC, but he's become just a DBH OC. He's a RP OC, specifically for a plot post in-game events (Failed Revolution, Deviant Connor).

!!!ACTUAL STUFF BELOW CUT!!!

Name: Finnigan 'Finn' Ryan

Age: 25 (12/24/2013)

Gender/Sexuality: Cis Male, Bisexual

Physical Appearance: 5'10", pale white with freckles across his entire body, green eyes, curly/fluffy ginger hair, Sleeper Build (strong twink)

Fun Facts: Has a very expansive CD collection! Owns a male betta fish named Sail! Him and his brothers all have names with double letters! He's a retro game/music nerd! Allergic to Pineapple but eats it anyways!

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Lore!🧡

Born and raised in Ancorage, Alaska, Finn used to be a quiet shy kid who spent a lot of time taking care of his twin younger brothers Matthew (Matt) and Maxxwell (Maxx), before moving to Detroit, Michigan and getting into street racing and drugs during college (weed, he's clean now, but still likes to drive real fast). He graduated with a Masters in Criminal Justice and joined the Dertroit Police Force as a cop/detective, specifically working on civil and family cases Pre Android Revolution. In all that time, he avoided androids due to his mild phobia of them, a result of strong Uncanny Valley feelings, and preferred to work without any Android interference. Despite his fear, he ended up purchasing a cheap domestic Android, which he named Micha. He treated Micha like a science project, keeping him deactivated at all times to allow Finn to literally fiddle with the Androids insides, trying to understand the mechanics and code. It was a bad attempt to combat his fear and only made it worse. Post Failed Revolution, in which Hank dies, he's offered the opportunity to work with Connor in Hanks place. He takes the job, convincing himself it'll pay better, and he can work on his phobia if he's directly partnered with an Android. During the first mission, he feels out of place and anxious, having to shoot a deviant to save Connor. He's borderline terrified of Deviants, of how *human* they are, and almost immediately regret taking the job. The regret gets worse and worse as each case seems to result in nothing but him and Connor in danger. He yells at Connor, gets frustrated at himself, ect. Even so, he and Connor get closer and closer. No longer does Finn feel gross looking Connor in the eyes. Hell, he starts to *like* being around Connor. Only after a bunch more cases, some drunken/sleepy rambling, and a run-in with Gavin and Kamski does he realize he is, in fact, in love with Connor.

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ANNNND I DONT WANNA RE WRITE THE WHOLE ROLEPLAY PLOT HAHA I MIGHT POST ABOUT IT OCCASIONALLY THO CUZ MAG IS SO GOOD AT WRITING AND I LOVE THE PLOT SO FAR!!!💙

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A silly character sheet made by https://x.com/cparrisart/status/1475535559984656392?t=C0mS8IXcyrh4209yGACaWg&s=19

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I WILL be self-indulgent. I literally made Finn and started the role play BEFORE I even knew the actual plot of DBH!🧡💙