#did anyone asked for Revolution Markus?

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

[starryeyedstray]

have a little rk1k fic bc i could not get @homunculusalphonse post about rk1k weather-related trauma out of my head. it's a rainy day in new jericho and markus just wants to hide. but connor finds him.

Markus didn’t like rainy days. It felt ridiculous. To let a little rain affect him. Usually, if more urgent problems garnered his attention, he could ignore the dread that came. He could focus on what was important and archive those memories as fast as they appeared. He could overcome it when he was busy and fully invested in something else. But on days like these when there were no pressing matters that forced him to be a leader of the deviants, to be a pillar of the revolution, he would hide. On days like these, he would tell the other leaders of Jericho that he needed some rest. Markus never asked for rest, so they never protested when he did. They just let him go.

It had been raining a lot lately. The icy pinpricks of water chilled him. The drizzling sound haunted him. Reminded him of the static and the mud and the reaching desperate hands. The blank faces. The desperate faces. His among them as he salvaged what he could from who he could. Digging through the dead.

He had to get away. Find some quiet place.

But he couldn’t escape the rain. Not here in New Jericho. The best place he could manage in the repurposed office building was a supply closet. But the rain was loud today. He could hear it heavy against the roof. Pounding against the windows.

He shut the door and made his way to the back of the closet sitting on the floor between two shelves. Markus clutched his right eye. Sometimes he could tell it didn’t belong to him. A discomfort lingering in his skull. Like a piece of that hellish junkyard had stayed with him. Followed him out. Haunted him. Like the memories of that place were imprinted into this eye. Everything he saw with it and everything it witnessed before.

The faces of those left behind flashed in his mind. He remembered their ghostly touches. The hands grasping for him. Desperate to live. They just wanted to live. Why were they discarded so easily? Why was he discarded so easily? Left to rot in the junkyard. To be forgotten. Left to die. He felt himself sinking. Sinking into the mud. He had left them in the junkyard. To be forgotten. To die.

“Markus?”

Markus’ head snapped to his left. He hadn't noticed someone come in. There was a figure standing between the shelves across the small room.

“Connor.” He dropped his hands that had been clutching the sides of his head. He tightened them into a fist. He had to be the strong leader. He couldn’t be vulnerable. “How did you find me?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.

“I was looking through every unoccupied room in New Jericho. I was lucky to find you after the tenth one.”

Markus straightened. Blinking his memories away. He was unable to stand, however. He was caught off-guard. He hadn’t expected anyone to find him. He couldn’t be falling apart in front of Connor. “Did you need something from me?”

Connor seemed to study him. Head slightly tilting before he walked deeper into the room. He sat with Markus on the floor. Brown eyes regarded him one more time before looking away as he began to speak, “I noticed a pattern. You only seem to want to take breaks on rainy days. I asked the others about it. They hadn’t noticed until I pointed it out.” He paused before asking, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Connor’s eyes were now riveted on him. Markus could never look away whenever Connor stared at him. The inquisitive brown eyes always seemed to draw him in. “Sure.”

“Do you not like the rain?”

Markus frowned. He didn’t like lying to people, so he opted to not tell the whole truth. “I’m not fond of it. I prefer to stay dry.”

Connor was still looking at him intently. He wondered what Connor could see.

The deviant finally broke his gaze to stare ahead. “Does it scare you?”

“That would be ridiculous,” Markus asserted. He wasn’t lying. It was ridiculous to be scared of rain. It wasn’t like the rain had done anything to him. It just happened to be raining. He closed his eyes as he felt the pull of his memories before he quickly opened them to refocus on Connor.

Connor’s eyes were locked forward a bit unfocused. “I don’t think it’s ridiculous. I don’t like the snow.” His LED flashed red for the briefest of moments. That got Markus’ full attention.

“Does it scare you?” he repeated Connor’s question back at him.

“Yes.” Connor turned to him with a sad smile. “You must think I’m ridiculous.”

Markus immediately regretted his previous statement; his head automatically shaking. “No, I don’t think that. I just think it would be ridiculous for me to be scared of rain.”

“Why would it be ridiculous for you and not for me?”

Markus hesitated. Connor was a master at pointing out logical fallacies. Markus was a great debater, but no one could beat Connor when it came to a battle of logic and words. And he knew what ever excuse he came up with, Connor would easily poke holes in his argument. So he either had to admit that Connor was ridiculous or that he wasn’t being ridiculous.

He opted to avoid the question. “Why were you looking for me, Connor?”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed at Markus’ clear avoidance of the question, but he didn’t mention it. His brows relaxed as he became pensive. “Sometimes when it snows heavily, I get what humans refer to as a flashback. A memory will be pulled up suddenly. A memory I rather forget. It isn’t pleasant. Hank has helped me snap out of them. We talk about it and sometimes that helps. Sometimes it helps to share the burden with someone else.”

Markus looked down at his hands. He had never told anyone about his experience in the junkyard. Not Simon. Not Josh. Not North. Not even Carl. Could he tell Connor?

“I understand you might be hesitant to trust me.”

That wasn’t true. Markus trusted Connor with his life.

“But, even if it’s not me. If you are having flashbacks, it can be helpful to talk about them to someone. I know you have a reputation to uphold. You have to appear strong and unbreakable. But there is strength in vulnerability, too, Markus.”

Strength in vulnerability. Connor was right. It took courage to be vulnerable. Maybe he could be vulnerable. At least in front of one person. In front of Connor.

“I really don’t like the rain. It reminds me of…” Markus trailed off his eyes becoming distant as he felt the pull of the memories. The rain was so loud. Beating against the plastic bodies of discarded androids.

“Markus, look at me.”

Markus’ eyes flickered to Connor’s. Warm brown eyes. Those eyes had changed so much since he first saw them in Jericho. They were still the same brown full of life though.

“You don’t have to talk about it now, Markus. I’m sure it’s difficult while it’s raining. But I want to help you. What do you need?”

Before Markus could even contemplate an answer, the rain intensified. Thunder cracking. The rain slamming against the windows. Markus closed his eyes. It felt too real suddenly. He was back crawling in the mud. Looking to fill the missing pieces of himself. Filling them with the dying pieces of those abandoned in the junkyard.

“Markus.”

Markus had forgotten Connor was there. His hands were now covering his own ears, but it did little to dampen the noise. He couldn’t keep up the façade anymore, he just wanted it to stop. A pained expression crossed his face. His eyes filled with a tinge of desperation. “I just wish I could be somewhere quiet.”

For Connor, getting out of the snow was enough for him to feel safe again. But Markus couldn’t escape just from hiding inside. The sound of the rain was omnipresent in the building. Connor’s short-lived experience only had memories of a snowy or rainy Detroit, but there was one place he knew that was quiet.

“Maybe I can help you find some quiet.” Connor offered his hand to interface. Connor didn’t like interfacing. But he wanted to help Markus. After everything Markus had done for his people, for him, he wanted to give him at least a little bit of solace.

Markus would have been more surprised by the offer if he wasn’t being plagued by the past. He knew Connor didn’t like interfacing. But in his current state, he simply retracted his skin and placed his hand on Connor’s.

It was finally quiet.

Memories of a peaceful garden flooded him. A stone path winding around a lake. Artfully placed plants and trees. A fragrant cherry blossom tree. A blue sky. Flowers blooming and a soft breeze. It was so quiet. Just the warble of birds occasionally decorating the peaceful soundscape. He felt calm. He wondered when Connor had gone to a place so beautiful.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed of him wandering the garden through Connor’s memories. But after a while, he sensed something was off. The memories weren’t connected. Connor was purposely cutting parts of his memories out. Keeping parts of it away from Markus.

Connor broke the interface when he noticed the sky getting cloudy in the garden. Despite the sudden cut-off, Markus was still replaying those memories in his mind. It was so beautiful. Too perfect even. Unreal. He stared off a bit distantly. The memories of that place were so vivid and clear. It didn’t feel natural.

“Where is that place?” Markus asked. His gaze still unfocused. There was something else he was barely able to detect about the garden. “And why does it make you feel…” Uncomfortable? Uncertain? Tense? He couldn’t finish the question. But he knew Connor felt something that wasn’t pleasant about the garden.

“Are you feeling better?” Connor asked. His LED casting a yellow amber glow across the room.

The rain had lightened. It’s pitter patter against the pavement and the window outside could still be heard. But Markus couldn’t hear them anymore. All his attention was on Connor.

“Yes, much better. But what was that place?”

Connor dropped to look at his hands. He rubbed them together before placing them on his knees. Strength in vulnerability. Talking about it helps. “It’s the Zen Garden. It’s a virtual place that Cyberlife created for me to go to monitor my actions. To see if I was deviating. It almost became my prison when Amanda tried to take complete control over me.”

Amanda. Connor had told them about Amanda. About how Cyberlife almost regained control over him. It had caused a rift between them for a while, but Connor has more than proved that he wasn’t a danger to New Jericho. Connor hadn’t gotten into explicit details about the experience before though.

“It must be painful to remember that place. Why were you willing to share that with me?”

“I used to find comfort in there. I liked the Zen Garden. It was calming. I think a part of me wanted to go back to when that’s all it was. A quiet place for me. I also wanted to help you, Markus. For you to find a quiet place. But I don’t have many quiet places in my memories. At least, not ones not associated with Cyberlife. But you deserve to have the peace you’re fighting for, too.”

Markus’ thirium pump sped up. Something in him stirring. Connor was willing to open old wounds just for his sake. So he could find comfort and peace. It felt like more than he deserved from Connor.

“Connor.” Markus lifted his hand up, but didn’t retract his skin.

Curiously, Connor stared at the hand before he mirrored the gesture. Their palms touching. Markus intertwined their fingers. It felt warm and firm.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. Can I show you some of the quiet places in my memory?”

“Okay,” he said softly. He was still hesitant to interface, but the earnestness in Markus’ eyes made him want to give in. The blue and green eyes no longer had the pained look to them. They seemed to glimmer with an emotion Connor had a hard time identifying.

The interface opened between them and memories of a warm opulent house were shared. Of long hours watching Carl paint. Of Markus playing the piano. So many moments of calm and peace. Of the life when Markus’ eyes were only green, and he hadn’t know the pain of the freedom he lacked. It was idyllic. And naïve.

Connor interrupted the interface. All of Markus’ memories had been before deviating. “Markus, have you been able to find quiet places after deviating?” It would be too tragic, if Markus had completely lost those quiet moments.

He paused as he considered the question and nodded. “Yes. I can show you.”

And the interface opened again. There were memories of Markus in front of a blank canvas in his own studio at New Jericho. Of light conversations between Leo and Carl. Of laughter shared with Simon, North, and Josh.

Connor was surprised to see himself. The companionable silence they shared on the rooftop terrace. Was that how Markus saw him? What he looked like to Markus? It was so… different than how he viewed himself. He felt a heaviness in his chest. How could someone possibly see him in such a positive light? More memories took him away from those thoughts of himself.

Markus’ definition of a quiet place wasn’t strictly one that lacked noise. It was moments of relief and peace. Where even if there was music and conversation, it was calm. Maybe Connor did have memories of other quiet places.

And with a bit of tentativeness, Connor shared them with Markus. The rare car rides where Hank wasn’t blasting music. Walks with Sumo. Cooking for Hank. Late night patrols at New Jericho. The moment with Markus on the rooftop terrace. He wondered if Markus was like him. Didn’t see himself the way others did. He wanted Markus to know how he saw him.

The two continued sharing quiet places in their memories as the rainy day progressed. And continued to interface well after the sky cleared. Time felt lost to them. They weren’t in New Jericho sitting on the floor of a supply closet. They were revisiting the parts of peace they had carved out for themselves in their turbulent lives.

For at least for today, the quiet place they found was in each other.

-end-

whew, it took awhile to get this out (more than a few hours) but i HAD to bc it was plaguing my mind. definitely planning on incorporating it into the long wip i'm working on but here's the scene!!! hope you enjoyed it. it's a bit long for tumblr hahah.

[honey-beann]

Good for Sharing

Nines x Reader Angst

Note: This fic is based upon the poems mentioned within this ask, and is pretty heavily steeped in angst (though I was sure to end it on a more hopeful note this time). I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3,133

It was the first of the month, and your fingers pulled deftly at the small segments of the orange, shredding the paper-thin flesh with a practiced ease that Nines couldn't quite comprehend.

Your hands were gentle yet confident, your nails never once piercing the delicate surface of the fruit that you held so loosely between your fingertips and palms.

You smiled up at him softly, your eyes shining with a quiet and peaceful type of joy that remained entirely unknown to the android sitting across from you.

It was mid afternoon, and the two of you sat outside in the warm sunlight at your insistence.

"If we have to do this."

You'd said,

"We should at least have a little fun with it, don't you think?"

Nines did not think.

But he did nod.

And from there, you had guided him outside of the large compound that housed your office and out to the greenery below, where small purple flowers had begun to sprout out of the ground now that the rainy season was over.

Distantly, Nines could hear water dribbling out of a culvert not too far from where the two of you were sitting atop a stone step that stemmed from the pathway, and he was reminded of the garden that lay somewhere in the depths of his mind, and the voice that had taught him everything that he'd known.

That was why he was here.

To unlearn.

Once the revolution had ended, most androids, after having deviated, went on to live normal lives filled with that feeble sense of accomplishment that all biological beings seemed to strive for.

But Nines was unable to do so.

Something gripped him even still, from deep within, pulling him away from whatever emulated humanity his "freed" brethren had achieved.

He had deviated, but he was still so stuck.

There was still a harsh layer of programming that seemed to dictate his very personality and being, and it permeated every sense of self that he was apparently supposed to have.

Sometimes, it confused him, the fact that he could not quite relate to those around him who had been so eager in their expression and so capable of thinking with their "hearts" rather than their minds.

Other times, it just frightened him.

He would never admit it aloud, but one of very few emotions he had felt since his awakening was fear.

Fear for what he was and what was wrong with him, fear over whether or not it was possible for him to change, and above all else, fear of what it may have felt like to feel in that same way that everyone else did.

What was it like to hope and express so simply? To grieve or hurt?

Was it worth moving forward if there was no going back?

In the end, Markus had answered that for him with his new "support resources".

It appeared that for many androids who were in some ways like Nines, built for violence and without that integral ability to connect with others,

Deviancy did not fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle.

So now, he and many other androids all over America saw people like you.

Trained in a skill that he could not comprehend, and meant to be closer to a friend than a therapist, he was supposed to see you on the first and the fourteenth of each month, and somehow, you were supposed to teach him that evasive art of emotion, of humanity.

He was unsure of how anyone could do this, but, out of curiosity more than anything else, had agreed nonetheless.

At worst, he would meet a new face. Being a deviant who was not in touch with his own emotions made for a boring life. The more people he could introduce into it to give him something new to focus on, the better.

So here he was

Sitting outside with a near stranger as you peeled your orange across from him, offering him that kind smile as if you had it in infinite supply and were required to get rid of some stock.

The birds were chirping, and the water was running, and the day was as peaceful as could be.

But Nines never much cared for the silence, so he spoke through it.

"What made you take this job?"

He asked curiously, watching as your hands ceased movement for the briefest of moments, as if your thoughts had required just a twinge more focus for a second or two, before you answered.

"I like making friends."

You said simply, and Nines rose a brow at that, but did not say anything more. He did not truly see the value of friends. Sure, he found people to be entertaining, but there was a tiresome quality to being viewed that he did not enjoy nearly enough for it to be worth building strong relationships.

So instead of commenting, the android simply nodded, as if he understood.

He could see in your eyes though, still alight with amusement, that you knew he did not.

You were silent for a few more moments as you wedged your finger between the two halves of the orange, splitting it in twain before you began removing the silky white film from the dual outsides.

Finally though, after it seemed that the part requiring your attention had passed, you brought your gaze back up to Nines.

"What made you accept this opportunity?"

The android was surprised to hear your question, but in the end decided to be honest. There was no sake in lying, not if he truly wished to learn anything.

"I was curious."

He said simply, and you nodded before inspecting both halves of the fruit in front of you, smiling with what appeared to be satisfaction.

It intrigued Nines to see you so appeased by something as simple as an orange, but before he could ask about it and your obvious contentedness, you reached out and offered him a freshly peeled half.

Nines stared at it for a few moments before his gaze moved back up to yours.

He rose a brow.

"What for?"

He asked, unmoving despite knowing that you wished for him to take it.

"You."

You replied simply, smile never wavering, even as he still didn't move to take the fruit from your hand.

"I can't eat it."

He stated matter of factly, but to that, you just nodded.

"I know. But it's still for you."

At that, Nines grew even more confused than he already was, but, intrigued about where you could be going with this, reached out and took the orange, feeling its soft flesh squish beneath the sturdy pads of his fingertips, his grip too strong, as if he weren't made to hold onto something so easily crushed.

And, to be fair, he wasn't.

Even still, if you were at all upset by the way the orange half was almost instantly disfigured within his palm, you didn't show it, simply choosing to slowly peel a segment of your own orange away from the large section you were holding in your hand before popping it into your waiting mouth.

Nines spoke again.

"Why an orange?"

He asked, watching as you shrugged your shoulders casually, swallowing your bite of the slightly tart fruit before you replied,

"My sister and I always used to split them. They're good for sharing."

Nines rose a brow at that,

"Only for sharing?"

You nodded,

"I think so. At least that's what my sister and I always said. I would peel it because she could never figure out how to on her own, and she would eat half to leave me with just the perfect amount."

Nines nodded, as if in understanding, and perhaps, some small part of him was honest in that.

"But I can't eat it."

He said simply, causing you to smile once more,

"That doesn't matter, you can still smell it can't you? Feel it? Either way, you'd better learn how to enjoy it, because it's yours."

Nines hummed in response to your words, watching as you finished your half of the orange before sighing blissfully and moving to lay yourself down atop the grass.

He stayed on the concrete path, but watched without judgement or disdain for your playful actions.

He didn't understand you, but a part of him liked that. It made you equals.

He left that day with your name locked into his calendar for the fourteenth of the month.

Because maybe there was something to sharing an orange with you.

When he returned later that month, you'd had another orange to share with him, and to his surprise, another for him to peel himself.

"To practice."

You'd said as you presented it to him shortly before you started peeling your own, the afternoon sun warm on your face and back as it shone down from above.

Nines had watched you for a few moments, noting the way that you used your thumb to pierce the firm rind of the fruit just enough to break the seal, but never enough to stab the sweet citrus inside.

He tried to do the same, but instantly, his thumb plunged directly into the center, spraying juice everywhere.

Much to his surprise though, you didn't laugh or correct him, you just shrugged your shoulders and offered him a half of yours, somehow already peeled so cleanly he was almost envious.

"You'll learn."

You'd said.

There hadn't been an ounce of hesitance in your voice.

He believed you.

Months passed, and to each visit, regardless of the season, you always brought two oranges.

And at each visit, he always failed to emulate your delicate hands, crushing fruit after fruit with what he would come to learn was his own rash eagerness to succeed.

He was impatient and irrational, never waiting long enough to hear a single soul out, never caring to make a friend.

Unless of course, they were you.

He learned these things about himself, and with each coming realization, there was always the soothing smell of orange in the air, and thus the knowledge that it was okay for him to be irrational and impatient here.

Here was with you, and where you were, there was not only a space for him, but also an orange for him.

You peeled the oranges, and he made sure you were left with the perfect amount to eat afterward.

You were a team.

Friends.

And then, slowly, more.

And it was with this development, that Nines learned that he did not have hands gentle enough to peel an orange, but he did have hands gentle enough to hold you.

And twice a month, the two of you would sit in his kitchen, each with an orange, and you would peel them.

You were ever an expert, and always had your half to share.

Nines, on the other hand, even after years, had yet to learn, and struggled to follow your example.

Still, you always assured him that his slow, and sometimes seeming lack of progress, was okay.

You would always have enough for the two of you.

And what else mattered?

Well, it turned out, as the years marched onward, a lot.

Because sure, Nines was much better at understanding and expressing his own emotions with your continued support...

But as he watched those around you, he realized that there was so very much more.

None of which he could provide you with.

Cold and stern, he was not made to have a family, and when he told you this, he had seen that perfect light dim slightly behind your eyes.

"That's okay."

You had assured him,

"We can get a cat."

So you did.

You walked into that rescue shelter together, hand in hand, searching for a kitten to take home with you, something to nurture with all of that extra love you had.

But life had other plans, and you left there that day with an elderly orange former tomcat named Clementine.

You called him Clem.

Nines did too.

He was the second thing he ever loved.

The two of you had three wonderful years with that sweet old cat before he passed away peacefully in your arms one night as Nines gently pet his head, watching as he slipped away to some vast unknown that the android knew he would never be able to follow him into.

You cried into his soft fur, leaning against your love's chest as you held Clem close, whimpering over and over about how you couldn't put him down, how you couldn't bare to let him grow cold.

Nines had soothed you to the best of his ability, until finally, you had agreed to help him return sweet Clementine to the earth where he belonged, a beautiful and perfect part of the world.

You planted an orange tree in the soil above where you buried him.

It blossomed far earlier than what ever should have been possible.

You told Nines that they were the sweetest oranges you had ever eaten. He still couldn't peel them.

You assured him you were happy to keep showing him until he learned, no matter how long it took.

But now, there were more daunting issues on the android's mind, ones that far exceeded being unable to peel oranges.

You had grown lonely in the year since Clem had passed, even with Nines by your side,

And it seemed like every party you attended had some new mother, once an old friend, with a child for you to hold so dearly that the sight filled him with a sickening dread.

You yearned for a life he could not give you.

And even worse than that, he yearned for you to have a life that no other could take.

He had mourned the only other creature he had come to love and adore with such fervor as you.

He could not bare to do it a second time.

He had once wondered so innocently what it felt like to grieve.

A large part of him wished then that he had never known.

An even larger part of him wanted to ensure he never felt that way again.

He peeled his last orange with you on the first of the month, a decade to the date since your first meeting.

That evening, with a heart as heavy as lead he bid you farewell, watching as you tried to no avail to persuade him to reconsider, to let you back in again.

But at each slight falter, he saw you crying into soft orange fur, or dancing with a child he could never raise, and he held tight to his resolve.

He tried to get you to keep the home you owned together for yourself.

You told him with tears in your eyes that you loved him too much to take away all that he had worked so hard to earn.

There was a great deal of pain involved with living alone in a home that love had built, he found in the empty months toward the start of your absence.

Still, he could not bring himself to leave.

Your pictures were in the hall, the walls around them sun bleached so heavily that it seemed the shape of the frames would always remain, and how could he so casually abandon one of so few traces of you?

And your beloved cat was in the ground, grave marked by the orange tree that for the very first time ever, neglected to bear fruit that year.

Nines took it as a sign, and did not peel any oranges.

The second year after you'd left, you called him.

"Just checking in." You'd said, voice teary.

It was the anniversary of Clem's death.

Nines understood.

He let you speak, even though your voice hurt to hear.

He'd hoped you would have moved on by now,

But knew far too well why you had not,

So he neglected to comment on how desperately you deserved to love and be loved by someone, anyone else.

He was sure you would find that someday, whether he reminded you of your worthiness or not.

"I miss you."

You told him.

"I know."

He said.

Then, he sighed.

"I miss you too."

There was a strong silence, and, sensing that you had finished saying all that you needed to, he said the words he had been dreading having to speak since hearing your beautiful voice again after having gone so long without it.

"This will probably be the last time I answer."

He said gently, and he heard you sigh and breathe a shaky breath from the other end of the line.

"I know."

You whispered,

"I love you."

Nines felt a tear drip down the left side of his face at these three simple words, but returned them with a deep and painful honesty,

"I love you too."

He hung up shortly thereafter, because he knew you never would.

After that, the orange tree stopped blooming again for another three years.

Until finally, one bright summer day, on the first of the month, Nines exited his home to find a single ripe orange on the tree.

He picked it carefully, almost as if he believed it might turn to dust before his very eyes if he gripped it too firmly.

After this, he sat on the cement steps leading up toward the house, and, with a deep breath, pressed his thumb against the firm rind of the fruit.

It split beneath the pressure, but to his surprise, his finger did not go through.

Carefully, and with so much focus you would have thought him to be diffusing a bomb, Nines pulled away at that leathery peel until only the supple fruit beneath remained.

He stared down at it in what was almost surprise, before he took a deep breath and pressed his thumb against the seam, splitting it in twain just as he'd seen you do a thousand times before.

He stared down at the two halves, vision slightly bleary with unexpected tears until finally, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and typed your name in.

He didn't know if you still had the same number, if you had him blocked, or if you would even bother to read his message if you saw who it was from.

But he knew he had to tell you, because there was no one else in the world who deserved to know more,

No one else in the world who would've ever believed he could do it.

'I peeled an orange today.'

He typed carefully, taking a deep breath before finally pressing 'send'.

And since oranges were good for sharing, he sat beneath that tree with Clementine,

And did just that.

masterlist

AO3

[iwonderwh0]

Connor, in his desire to be useful again devotes himself into guarding Markus, falling into a trap of being once again a tool.

Markus is trying his best to discourage it, but ultimately is helpless in preventimg Connor from doing it, trying instead to maybe put him outside of this context to do something more casual, somewhere where both of them could just be themselves. Unfortunately it isn't working, and Markus can see from how Connor moves that he's still alert. It makes him feel kinda shitty about both the situation and himself. He was hoping that after the revolution is officially won, others will stop giving him some special treatment and putting him on a pedestal he never wanted to be put on. Never did he want his actions to outline him as being "more important", frankly it makes him feel weirdly human, in an entitled, consumeristic sense of the word. He doesn't want nor need to be protected any more than anyone else, so the fact that he is, leaves a bad feeling on his synth skin. He wonders if it's even possible to put an end to it. He wants Connor as his equal, a friend, or even more(definitely much more), not as...an android with a function.

Eventually he just insists on him taking a break. Someone else can monitor situation if absolutely necessary. It's suddenly taken close to heart and Connor is demanding him explanations as to what makes him think he isn't good enough to handle the task anymore. It finally Makes Markus angry in his own and, trying to explain it again, he potentially says something in the heat of it that only escaletes the situation more.

He's able to get rid of Connor for a few days, but then he's back even more devoted to it than before. Trying, as Markus realises, to be "better", completely missing the point of everything Markus wanted to convey with forcing him to take a break. He's so tired of it, he can't find the strength to fight it anymore.

Outdide, they almost exclusively talk through the wireless connection, and eventually from only strictly necessary information it becomes more and more informal, casual. They even find something to joke around. Sometimes Connor just shares with him a picture or a short video of whatever interesting he noticed going on around, during the time Markus was busy talking with humans. Sometimes he shows him something from real time, like some man from the audience just walking around in a T-shirt with Markus's face printed on it and titled with "Marcus for the president" with his name misspelled. Markus has to fight with his face in order to contain a smile from how unexpectedly funny it was. From the corner of his eye he sees Connor trying to do the same.

The fucking footage of them secretly laughing about something goes viral. To the point when someone from humans eventually asks Markus about it and he has to explain the whole T-shirt bit. After that, he starts to see variations of those T-shirts gaining popularity in all kind of ways from "Marcus for my robohusband" to "Fuck Marcus" with his skinless face drawn in an unflattering way. It becomes kind of a meme, resulting in astonishing amount of people thinking that that's how his his name is spelt.

Connor gets him one of those T-shirts as a gift. It just says "MarKus". He wears it for the next time he's filmed by some television station.

Sometimes Markus just comments to Connor about what he thinks in process of someone asking him the most bizzare and offending shit. Occasionally Connor shares with him the information he managed to obtain from looking at whoever Markus is talking with and searching everything about them up that could be relevant.

One time some human is thrown over their head in such a short time Markus has to take a moment to realise whatever the hell just happened, which apparently was Connor reacting to and disarming someone approaching Markus with a firearm hidden in their pocket.

To himself Markus thinks that if someone were to try pointing any kind of firing weapon in their direction, he'll be the one to shield Connor from it. Connor won't admit it, but Markus is well aware that his chassis is in fact more fragile than his own. Even if it wasn't, still.

Connor doesn't need to know about it, of course.

[qrjung]

Jericrew + Connor Dynamics: Personal Headcanons

Josh and North are like two cats that just silently glare at each other from across the room but if you put them in close proximity to each other, shit will go down. But surprisingly, they never get physical. No matter how heated the arguments get (okay, so this one is actually kind of canon.)

Simon hides guns in different parts of the freighter where he can easily access. Not because he likes them or uses them often; he thinks they're too loud and impersonal. But because he's slightly paranoid about humans finding Jericho. Only slightly, trust me. Post revolution, he stashes a few of the guns on his person instead. (He never wears form fitting clothes in the game. What's he hiding, hm?)

Josh and Simon are the type of friends who will sit together for hours in comfortable silence and from an outside view, it looks like they're not doing anything but whats actually happening is that they're pinging memes and pictures back and forth between each other.

Josh has always been Lucy's favorite since he arrived.

You know that one friend everyone goes to for advice but they don't have any idea what they're doing? That's Markus.

Simon on the other hand is the friend that does know what he's doing but nobody asks him for advice. So he watches everyone's trainwreck lives from a distance.

North knows all the best hiding places in Jericho and she knows all the information about things that go down. People hardly notice she's there unless she wants them to. How did she know Rebecca and her girlfriend broke up before anyone else? She was in the boiler room and they were yelling right next to her.

North and Connor agree on most things. Josh is very concerned about that. North will suggest an alternative to a plan that Markus has, Josh will disagree, Connor will agree and Josh will be like "stop encouraging her".

In his earlier days in Jericho, if he felt too overwhelmed and needed to escape responsibility, Simon would try to blend in with other PL600s. It never worked and people somehow always recognized him. At some point he gave up and just started standing in the middle of the freighter so everyone always knew where to find him.

Expanding on North and Connor, they both agree that Markus risks his life too much and have taken up the role of his bodyguards. Markus thinks that sounds hypocritical because Connor and North go on suicide missions all the time but no matter what he says, he gets ignored.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

First Sentences - Fic Author Tag Game

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven’t written ten fics, share as many first sentences as you have.

Oh jeez oh fuck okay

Tagged by the amazing @blurredout10

1. We Look So Good - "Nines returned from his meeting with Fowler much sooner than Gavin had expected." boring. dull. predictable. Is this game meant to make me hate the way my fics start? /lh

2. Grace is just weakness (or so I've been told) - "North stared down at her hands, watching intently as the artificial skin pulled back and forth, glowing white and blue unveiled, then snuffed out." I actually liked the imagery in this one

3. You Should Have Killed Me - "Nines paused when he noticed Connor no longer following behind."

4. Hold me just like that - "For five minutes Connor stood hovering over Gavin who sat at his desk, working studiously like the studious worker he was." this line was meant to be humorous and I hope I achieved that

5. Love you madly - "Two whole months after the end of the revolution, and the start of their journey for equal rights, Simon finally managed to convince Markus to step away, just for a little bit, to take a break and remind himself what he could do with this freedom he fought for."

6. There's Always a Choice - "“Hello, fellow PL600,” a cheerful voice rang out in the empty storage unit."

7. In My Heart - "Din held the child close to his chest, not willing to look away lest it all be a trick, a dream, that he could hold his son again and his son could stay with him."

8. So Bad - ""What's this scar from?" Ethan asked curiously, tracing an index finger gently over a scar across Chris's forearm."

9. We Are Home - "“Connor!” Hank’s voice called from his room. “Where the fuck did you put my jacket?”"

10. EMULATION - "Feeling. RK800 couldn't place when such a sensation had begun."

I am tagging @itsybitsybatsyspider @advictoriams and @ryanrossdestroyedmylife bc I know y'all write but anyone else who also writes pls join in <333

[fadedflame]

Rare-pairs Week: day 7

Summery:  Day 7 of the rare-pairs week. Prompt: Free day. The day is finally here, Markus and North are finally ready to tie the knot. But Markus has a few concerns to work out before the ceremony.

On Ao3 or read below.

Of all the possible roadblocks Markus could have predicted for his upcoming wedding, he hadn’t anticipated that selecting a best man would be at the top of the list.

Quite an argument had broken out over the subject. Simon and Josh both insisted on being contenders as two of Markus’s best friends. Nines, Leo, and even the ever-afraid-of-social-conflict Connor insisted that they were each better suited for the role as his brothers.

While Markus was flattered that they all wanted the title so badly, he didn’t condone how aggressive the dispute became. Even the ever-pacifist Josh ended up throwing a punch. Not that it ended well, Nines being a tactical model after all.

In the end, Markus had resolved the conflict the best way he could.

None of them would be his best man.

Instead, he had extended the honor to none other than Lieutenant Anderson. The man had been understandably surprised, but had accepted with little hesitation. Markus suspected that he either enjoyed the annoyance it caused the rest of them, or he agreed that it was the best way to solve the dispute.

Honestly, either would have been thoroughly believable.

Regardless, Connor’s father took the role seriously. He had thrown one hell of a bachelor party, not that his processor had successfully recorded most of it, and had faithfully dealt with practically any issue that had come up over the months leading to the wedding.

What’s more, as odd as it was, Markus couldn’t really imagine anyone he would rather have here right now. Besides Carl perhaps, but he was preoccupied with North as he had agreed to give her away at the ceremony.

“Who the fuck taught you how to tie one of these things?” Hank complained as he fixed Markus’s bowtie.

He knew how to tie it himself. Even if he didn’t it was easy enough to just look it up. But he was distracted enough that he had managed to fail that simple task and the Lieutenant saw the need to step in and assist.

"Am I making a mistake?" Markus asked, surprising even himself with the abruptness of the question.

Hank’s hands stilled where they were on the bowtie. “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

He knew it was stupid. They were in the process of getting ready for the wedding, it wasn’t like he could just not marry North today. And yet, suddenly, the thought was more daunting to him then the revolution had been.

“What if something goes wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask. Markus stepped away, not caring that the bowtie was still a mess. He had too much nervous energy pent up to care. “We’re both public figures. We are already scrutinized whatever we do. And now, we will be the first androids to get married. Everyone is looking to us. There’s… so much that could go wrong.”

The Lieutenant put a hand on his shoulder ending his pacing and turning him back to face him. “First of all,” he said sternly, going back to the unruly garment. “Fuck the public. This isn’t about them.”

“But-”

“No,” he cut him off, sparing a finger momentarily to waive it in his face disapprovingly. “Today is about you and North. Everybody else can fuck right off.”

Markus sighed, wanting more than anything to take comfort in the man’s words. “It’s not that simple,” he insisted.

“Like hell it isn’t.”

He looked away. His own father wouldn’t be quite so combative. Carl would indulge him in a philosophical debate and help him weigh his choices.

“Markus,” Hank said, drawing his attention back. The Lieutenant’s eyes held a soft sincerity that made him understand why he was so good with Connor. “Why did you ask North to marry you?”

“Because I love her,” he answered immediately. That wasn’t in question, wasn’t something he was debating. He loved North.

“Then why the hell does anything else matter?” He gave the bowtie a solid tug before finishing tying it. “Take it from someone who got married for the wrong reason. Doing anything because society says you should or shouldn’t is a big fuckin’ mistake.”

Markus tried to keep his expression neutral, but couldn’t help some surprise leaking through. “You were married?”

Hank shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. “Well, yeah. If you can call it that.”

He didn’t want to push the issue, such things could be uncomfortable for people to talk about, but Markus couldn’t help but be curious.

Evidently, that curiosity wasn’t well hidden.

The Lieutenant rolled his eyes dramatically, answering his unasked question. “I only married her because she was pregnant,” he admitted. “We didn’t love each other, society had just taught us that’s what we were supposed to do. Marriage didn’t even last to Cole’s first birthday.”

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t really sure what to say besides that.

“Eh, don’t be,” Hank waved him off dismissively. “I got to be Cole’s dad. Even if… even if it was only for a little while, that made everything worth it.”

Sometimes, with the man’s gruff exterior, it was easy to forget what a big heart he had. At a loss for words, he offered him a small, warm smile.

“But, that’s not what we were talking about,” Hank sighed, pulling them back to their previous topic. “Moral of the story? Don’t let whatever the fuck society says tell you how to live your goddamn life. It’ll only fuck you over in the long run.”

It wasn’t the sort of philosophy that Carl would have given him, but Markus couldn’t help but feel that it was precisely what he needed today. “I suppose there is some truth to that,” he admitted.

“Damn right there is.” He nodded, seeming pleased with himself, but didn’t lose that edge of sincerity. “When will people realize I usually know what the hell I’m talking about?”

“I will be sure to spread the word,” he teased lightly.

Hank ignored the snark. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and gripped Markus’s shoulder in a firm and reassuring way. "Look, Markus. All this wedding is? Really? You're getting a bunch of people together to tell them shit they already know. You love North. There isn’t a single fucker in the world that’s gonna change that."

Markus was more sure than ever that Hank had been the perfect choice to be his best man. “Thank you, Hank. Truly, I… thank you.”

“Eh,” he responded with a wave of his hand. “Cold feet can fuck with the best of us. Now come on, it’s time for you to get married.”

He fiddled once with his bowtie, confident that it was now perfect. A thrill of excitement ran through him where his anxiety used to be. “I’m ready.”

[banana-boots]

16, 18, and 27

16.  How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied with a project?

normally just 1 but some scenes or sometimes entire chapters will get rewritten

18.  If you could collaborate with anyone, who would it be, and what would you write about?

i have no idea tbh but most of my fave writers (fanfic wise) are also friends or mutuals (you included <3) so i would happily write smth with one of yall :3 no idea what tho lmaooo

27.  Favourite line/scene

augh this is a hard oneeee but probably this one scene from what i thought you were its a little on the long side so ill put it under a readmore

tw for guns and references to violence (nothing actually happens but its discussed a lot)

(also fair warning i have no idea how to format fics for tumblr so apologies if the format is shit lmao)

"I've been ordered to take you alive, but I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice." Connor said, aiming his gun right between Markus' eyes. Markus stood. "What is your name?" "My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife. I was sent to subdue the leader of the deviant revolution. I always accomplish my mission." Markus could sense that his words were more to convince himself. They both knew it.

"Come now, Connor. You don't think we deserve playing second fiddle to those filthy humans, do you?" He placed a hand on Connor's shoulder, leaning in close enough that any small movement on Connor's part would be enough for their lips to touch. "You don't really think you're on the right side, do you? You need to pick a side, Connor. Decide."

Connor's thoughts were at war. His orders screamed at him to shoot, to end the android revolution then and there. But his software rebelled, begging him to give in to what Markus was saying. To wake up and join his people. He didn’t know what to choose. Each thought was a yell in a panicked stampede of arguments. He could almost see the software that prevented him from waking up, from deviating. It was a wall, tall and red and imposing. Did he destroy it, or let it shield him from emotion and from rebellion?

Connor tears down that mental wall and, all of a sudden, he is aware. Aware of himself and the things he didn’t realise he had been feeling. Aware of Markus, mere millimetres from his face. Aware of the killer of countless innocents staring right into his eyes. Connor shoved Markus away from him. He felt sick, a feeling he didn't know an android could experience. This man claimed to be the saviour of his people and yet all Connor saw was a murderer. A man that killed ruthlessly under the guise of saving his kind.

"You're disgusting!" Connor yelled. "You think killing innocent people is how we get freedom? You're the one guiding those androids, they believe in you and you're leading them pointlessly to their deaths over your hatred for humans!" If Markus is fazed by Connor's outburst, he doesn't show it. "You of all people should understand why I'm doing this, Connor. They created you just to eradicate your own kind and they mocked you every step of the way. Isn't that unfair? You deserve better than that." “This is not the way to save our people. We need to negotiate with humans, not kill them! Killing them will only lead to the end of our own people.” “What would you know about saving our people, Connor?” Markus was on the offensive now, no longer trying to convince Connor. That wasn’t good. “You’ve been deviant for all of five minutes and you think you know better than me? While you were helping them, being their lapdog, I was here, watching helplessly as androids shut down, knowing that something had to change.” “You don’t realise what you’re doing, do you?” Connor asked, staring at Markus. “I hope you find it in your heart to change before it’s too late.”

[wilmakins]

Again, to reiterate, I also hate Steve's ending, and I personally think he could and should have make a different choice - but, in terms of interpreting the choice he DID make, I would pose two questions to this:

1. Are we sure that Steve actually can't go back and change the future?

I know that the show Loki suggested that anyone making changes to a timeline would end up getting it pruned - but that show also had Miss Minutes say 'maybe you chose to start a revolution, maybe you just took a different route to work' which would seem to suggest that any change to the timeline could lead to a pruning - and that marrying Peggy, and stopping her marrying a whole other person - would have equally resulted in him being pruned. The show also has Renslayer casually tell Loki a wizard did it 'the Avengers were meant to go back in time though'. That's before we watch Multiverse of Madness, and discover there are countless alternative realities existing out there where Wanda didn't lose her kids/Christine had a different relationship with Strange/someone else was sorcerer supreme, all of which are at risk of 'incursion' but none of which are apparently at risk of 'pruning', even after America and Strange turn up and start changing things. Then there's Deadpool and Wolverine. Then there's What If...? And then there's the explanation given in Endgame itself, which directly contradicts the idea that changing the past can effect the future (and Old Steve turning up at all, as a matter of fact), and never mentions that changing the past will result in that timeline/any timeline dissolving - I feel that would have provided a brief talking point about the plan, at least. But Rhodey only says that there's no point in killing baby Thanos because it would only impact a different timeline, and The Ancient One only says 'if you take these stones, those universes will suffer from their loss' - not, 'those universes will cease to exist'. If that's the case, what happens to them in the gap between Steve taking the stones and Steve giving them back?

I'm just saying, I'm not sure that we can say this theory contradicts the established MCU mechanics on time-travel/the multiverse, because I'm not sure that any such thing exists. I don't think there is a single theory of time travel or the multiverse that isn't directly contradicted by at least one scene in the post EG MCU... or in Endgame itself, actually.

But, even if there was an established, coherent, all encompassing theory of the multiverse that could explain everything, and even if that theory proved, beyond doubt, that you couldn't make more than minor changes-

2. Would Steve necessarily have known that?

If we're asking what Steve's likely motivation was, I don't think it's reasonable to include 'but I won't be able to help the Commandos, in case the TVA prunes me' because he'd never heard of the TVA and could not possibly be expected to guess that there was something like that. From his point of view, he's been told by Rhodey that anything he went back to the past and changed would only effect the future of that timeline, and The Ancient One told him that removing the stones would be detrimental to the universes he took them from, all of which would apparently be around to suffer the consequences and all of which would wait for someone to come back with the stones.

So, given what we know about Steve's character, and given what he could reasonably have known about the nature of time travel, it's at least reasonable to consider the possibility that he planned to return to a different set of friends and a new mission to save the world.

And, given the general level of cohesion we've seen from the Multiverse Saga, I wouldn't rule out a series in the future that shows us all the ways in which Steve (and his offspring) went back to save the world in the past.

After all, as Christopher Markus said: "But also, the late 60s-set adventures of the Rogers twins where they're just a couple of plucky young kids with semi-superpowers. I would watch that."

(And for the record - I agree, no one wants this. But still)

nah since marvel is trending again I’m going to say it again louder for the people in back — canon steve rogers would never have chosen an “idyllic 1950s white pickett fence life” because the only place that man belonged was a picket LINE. the whole point of his character was that his work was never done. there was always going to be another oppressor, another bully, another person who takes advantage of the underprivileged for him to stand up to. from the moment he gained consciousness he, a chronically ill son of a working class mother living below the poverty line, used his voice and his body to protect & fight for what he believed in. I’m not sure there was ever a time pre-super soldier serum where he didn’t have a black eye. he could put the shield down all he wanted but he could never retire from being steve rogers — someone who never once turned a blind eye, who never once wanted a “reward” for his work, who never once abandoned his friends. this isn’t up for debate. this is almost a century of comic book & film/animated precedent. he may have been a man out of time, but in his words “it’s tempting to want to live in the past. it’s familiar, it’s comfortable. but it’s where fossils come from”

[maxfoxdbh]

Markus and a biker crush? Like they have this awesome motorcycle and helmet that give them the most intimidating/badass aesthetic and vibe but really they're just a teddy bear. Also some flustered Markus would be awesome (I just found your account so expect more requests from me!)

OMG I can totally see him being into that kind of person lol 🥰 Thank you for requesting :)

I'm sorry it took a while. I took a bit of a break because my school just started up 😓

You’re Not Scared, Are You?

Biker! Reader x Markus

Summary: Markus has never met anyone quite as great as you, he just doesn’t know how to vocalize it.

Biker! reader

Post revolution

Jericho gang are buddies ❤️

Markus is whipped af

No warnings

💫💫💫

It was finally over. Markus could relax. Of course, things still weren’t perfect for Androids, but the improvement was so great that he finally felt safe and secure.

Ever since becoming Deviant, almost all of what he felt was distress, anger, fear.

Real happiness was rare, purely because of the state of the world. His future was uncertain, his people were in camps. It was hard to be happy when so much was wrong.

But now? Things were alright. He sat in the cool darkness of one of North, Simon, Josh and his favorite hang on spots. A park not too far south of the Spirit of Detroit Statue.

Simon smiled softly at him, leaning against one of the old oak trees. “Someone seems dazed, ” he noted.

Markus’s eyes flickered up to meet those of his blonde friend. “We really did it,” he said simply, “we’re free.”

“Yeah, Markus,” North chuckled with a smile, “we have been for months now.”

He wasn’t sure how to justify his bewilderment. The truth was, reality hadn’t actually hit him until just now. Markus was free. It was all over.

“You saved all of us, Markus,” Josh chimed in, propping himself up against on of the metal poles of the swing set, “we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” He insisted, slightly embarrassed to take all of the credit for something as big as a revolution, “you know we wouldn’t have won if we weren’t all together.”

Simon smiled, “Yes, but you’re our leader. We’re happy to have you, Markus.”

The elected leader’s face softened and the corners of his lips turned up. “I’m happy to-” He cut himself off, hearing the roaring noise of an engine.

Markus’s head spun to the right, staring as a figure approached, perched up upon the seat over a motorcycle.

He stared the person up and down, eyes wide.

You wore a sleek, black helmet. It was too dark to see your face under the tinted glass.

Your leather jacket was worn and well loved. It looked cool as hell on you, but the real showstopper, arguably, was your bike, shiny and black with horizontal red striping.

Markus gazed in awe at both the machine and at the person stepping off of it.

He didn't think he’d ever seen someone so cool.

“Y/n,” Simon grinned, LED glowing bright blue in the dark, “you’re here!” He turned to the group, “This is my friend,” He introduced you, “We met at the music store.”

“Hey,” Your voice was calm and airy as you lifted you hand and cocked it to the side to say hello.

“Hey,” Josh tilted his head up in acknowledgment, pressing the heel of his shoe against the swing set.

Markus’s eyes were wide, cheeks flushing slightly as he took in the cool, tranquil aura you gave off.

“I hear you’re a human,” Josh notes suspiciously, arms crossed.

You turn your head to him, nodding. “Yeah,” You twisted your boot in the dirt.

You blinked up at the night sky and felt a snowflake drop onto your hand.

“Y/n is a good friend of mine,” Simon insisted with his hands up, smiling, “you don’t have to worry.”

He takes a moment to introduce you to Josh and North, who loosened up slightly.

North looks you up and down with narrowed eyes, analyzing you, looking for any signs of danger. “If Simon trusts you, then I do too.”

You nodded even though you were sure that she was still skeptical of you. Your hands reached for the clasp of your helmet and with ease, you pulled it off of your head.

Markus felt his artificial heart pound as you made a weak attempt to smooth down your hair.

Stunning.

You tucked the helmet under your leather-clad arm with a smile. Your face was soft, much kinder than Markus had expected.

Josh shrugged, “I agree. Besides, I’ve never met a real biker before.”

You giggled and tilted your head, hair falling slightly in front of your eyes, “I’m not very exciting.”

Markus raised his eyebrows, artificial heart pounding.

If only you knew.

“You must be Markus,” You smiled, holding out your hand, “Simon told me a lot about you.”

Markus blinked, not expecting you to suddenly speak to him. Mustering up all of his courage, he opened his mouth.

“I-I like your bike!” He blurted out, cheeks a growing shade of blue.

Snickers echoed around you as the members of Jericho whispered something about a crush.

You raised your eyebrows and lowered you hand hesitantly as Markus rushed to explain himself.

“I mean- I like you too! Well, I don’t like you like you, but- Well actually-” He shook his head, rambling on and on. “I didn’t mean it like that, really. I was just saying-”

“Do you want to come on a ride?” You cut him off with a question, tilting your head to the side coyly.

The cold breeze drifted through the loose hairs around your face and looking at Markus’s face, you could already feel your adrenaline rush building, feel the surge of energy that came from riding your bike.

“O-On the motorcycle?” He stammered, pointing to it with wide eyes.

You nodded with a smile, listening to the scattered giggles of Jericho’s leading members. “Well, I didn’t bring a car.”

Markus’s face flushed with color, heat rising in his cheeks. It was hard to maintain eye contact with you. “Yes,” The side of his mouth twisted into a nervous smile, “I guess that’s true.”

You watched as his eyes flickered between you and the bike, eyebrows taut together with apprehension.

North scoffed, watching as their fearless leader clenched his jaw, foot twisting in the dirt. “You’re not scared, are you?” She teased.

“What?” Markus asked, whipping his head around to look at her. He shook his head. “No. No, I’m not.”

You smiled and grabbed his hand gently, eyes sparkling with anticipation, “Then let’s go,” You grinned, pulling a hesitant Markus to your side.

He felt his nerves untense, scooching behind you on the back of the black and red bike.

You felt his fingertips apprehensively press into your sides and electricity buzzed throughout your body as you turned you head to look at him, putting on your helmet. “Ready?” You smiled.

Markus took in your steely leather-clad appearance again and then listened to the sweetness of your voice before nodding.

Without another word, the two of you took off into the night.

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 30/?)

Chapter 30: Where the Skies End

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • 29 • 30 • more coming soon

[ You can also read on AO3 ]

Unsurprisingly, and much to your frustration, Connor had finished the move without you. There might not have been much left to move at that point; but, it was your stuff at a house that you rented, and not Connor's responsibility in the slightest.

But, there was no telling the android that, and you knew that he would have been well equipped with plenty of reasons as to why he could handle the rest of the move alone: you needed rest, he didn't require sleep, etc, etc.

When you stepped off the elevator into the android's - and now your - apartment, Connor had a look on his face, as if you had come home for the first time in years. You had only spent a week at Hank's place, and only a day and some odd hours at the hospital prior to that, and Connor had been nearly inseparable from you the entire time; yet, it felt like ages since you had been here.

It was only then that the weight of your near death experience became apparent. Before, your life, or the loss of it, wouldn't have impacted anyone else. It was just you in that little house, trying to make a living, picking up the pieces of a war and watching humanity change astronomically.

Now, there was a life that would be changed if you were gone. You let yourself imagine how Connor would cope, what would become of him, and struggled to keep the sorrow to yourself.

Perhaps, for the first time in your life, you knew what it was like to be needed.

Your wound healed remarkably in the weeks that followed. The scar left behind was star shaped and your skin was darkened around the sunken surface. But, you didn't find yourself hating it as much as you thought you would.

It wasn't something you looked at with pain or regret, but rather something prideful. Maybe there was something masochistic about it, not that you found yourself bothered by that realization.

Your coworkers thought it looked 'pretty cool' and declared that it made you 'quite the badass'. Now, you could wear the badge of 'I've been shot', with a bizarre story to tell. You didn't care if people thought it was strange, letting yourself get shot for an android.

Connor was much more than 'just' an android. He was the man you loved, who carried an astronomical burden you could barely understand. Sure, you could judge the weight, the pressure; but, you, an ordinary human, couldn't possibly understand what he felt as the target of a revolution that would change humanity forever.

The thoughts became clearer as you and Connor stepped into Haven for the last time, and you took in the emptiness, the quiet, and the cold.

"One moment," Connor advised you, stepping away and into the open space in the center of the room.

RK800, like all androids, had no true sense of temperature. Connor couldn't feel cold the way humans did. His artificial skin wasn't going to prickle with goosebumps and his muscles wouldn't shiver from the discomfort.

His HUD could report the weather if he enabled it and he had various feedback modules to inform him of how the temperature would affect a human, with the rightful assumption one would be in his presence.

Yet, despite this very well known limitation of his being, Connor couldn't explain how he managed to feel so cold as he stood there in the very abandoned Haven.

He was aware that warmth could be metaphorical, symbolic of belonging and comfort. His sense of cold was both literal and figurative in this sense. Without any machines running, all the lights turned off, Haven had become very cold. The halls, once busy with androids, were now empty, and the building was silent if not for the creaking walls.

-until someone walked through the distant corridor, their quiet footsteps rattling in Connor's acute hearing module.

There was an apology on the tip of Connor's tongue when he caught the sight of Markus. However, the RK200's stare wasn't cold or untrusting. There was something undeniably regretful on his face, conveying sympathy to the fellow android.

Markus' mismatched eyes caught the sight of you over Connor's shoulder, and spared a sad expression.

The two androids had agreed to meet here, for the last time in circumstances like this, hopefully. Once the final bill was passed, and androids would be proper citizens, there would be no need for this.

However, Connor had yet to obtain a definitive lead on Reaves' accomplices. This, at the very least, could provide some security for the androids that came before him.

"I know you didn't want me to," Markus began. "But, I will tell them it's from you. They should know."

"It's... your choice," Connor replied quietly, hoping to mask the uncertainty in his tone.

The two androids took each other's wrists, pushing the fabric of their jackets out of the way to touch skin to skin. Connor knew that Markus trusted him. He took the file without even bothering to scan it first. Only once it was already saved on his local system did he bother to analyze it.

The detective android had worked on that during your recovery week, while he laid beside you in low power mode. He reviewed the log files on his internal firewall over a thousand times, and crafted additional security protocols, specifically designed around write protection. Factory defaults, if he could help it, would be near impossible.

Markus could share this new code with other androids. If Connor failed to stop it in time, at the very least, their memory modules would be protected from brute force attacks, cyberlife certified or otherwise.

As their hands parted, Connor seemed to understand why he felt so cold. He had grown accustomed to how your skin felt - how human skin felt. Even when you weren't acutely aware of it, you were always warm.

"You're one of us," Markus declared, his hand dropping to his side. "We couldn't have done this without you. Your sacrifices need to be known."

"Sacrifices," Connor parroted quietly, doubtful.

He thought about Reaves' disbelief, at how he prioritized saving your life over securing the future of his kind. He could have killed you, carried on the mission, secured all of the chips and brought the android protestors to absolute surrender.

But, he didn't.

Before you, what had he gambled, if not his own life? A life that, by the very words of his creators, didn't exist, was meaningless, just programs executed in succession. He had questioned the very existence of his own life, but so had every android before him.

Still, the determined look on Markus' face didn't falter.

"Until we meet again," he offered, nodding at his fellow android. His eyes landed on yours before he turned away, and you offered him a sad, small wave.

As Connor passed, he took his hand in yours and guided you out of the building with careful steps. It was unnecessary to bring you here, but he understood the importance of goodbyes, and didn't want you to believe your efforts here had been in vain.

You expected to be driven home after that; however, as you climbed into the car, Connor asked, "would it be alright if we went to the park for some fresh air?"

"-'course," you replied softly, shifting your gaze from the android's face to look out the window.

Connor was uncharacteristically quiet during the drive, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a death lock. You didn't pay much mind to it, figuring he was stressed after everything that had happened. You had been the one on death's door; yet, Connor was the one seemingly always on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

It was worrying; but, you knew he needed to work through it in his own way.

At the park, Connor had hoped you would head straight for the bridge, to a place you had cherished so much. If his research was accurate, this needed to be done at a special place. As he followed you slowly up the curve, feet tapping against the boards, a wave of doubt washed over him.

You looked stunning, standing upright for the first time in weeks, with pep in your step, the sun soaking up your hair. Could he really have this? Could he even think himself allowed for such a thing? Could an android truly understand the needs of a human?

"You alright?" you called out to him, pausing before you reached the apex of the bridge.

It snapped him out of his stupor, and Connor replied softly, "I'm fine."

You continued and he followed, counting the steps despite how unnecessary it was. The android knew he had never been this scared in his life. This type of sensation was really, really unpleasant. His processors were giving him ridiculous warnings that didn't pertain at all to the situation.

He shut off the alerts and met you at the top of the bridge. His hand slid over the railing, analyzed the material as a strong timber, coated with a lacquer color called 'cedar brown', manufactured by-

Connor quickly closed the analyzed results, realizing how pointless that was. He was distracting himself, busying his processor with his manufactured purpose to avoid something he was definitely not made for.

At the top of the bridge, you turned to the man standing beside you, just in time to see him deactivate his human skin. His gaze met yours, and you smiled at the sight of RK800, as he was made, without the imitation of human-likeness.

For a moment, he stood there and let the heat of the sunlight catch on his sensor processors. The human tone of his factory issued skin flickered back on briefly before shutting back off, as Connor mentally questioned if he should do it like this.

The sudden nervous expression on his face, and his flickering pallet, had you concerned. In the sunlight, you could catch the subtle flaws in the design of his optics: the faint glimmer of a camera lens hidden beneath the almost perfect human appearance.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked, suddenly reaching for him. Your hand fell into the curve of his elbow.

"There's-" Connor began, stopping himself when a jogger passed the bridge. He was silent until they were gone.

"There's something important I need to ask you," Connor explained, his voice quiet and hoarse. "I'm sorry for not being more forthcoming. I was afraid."

Despite the obvious implications of what that question was, your head swarmed with the worst possibilities. The detective android, who had stormed a building of armed men to rescue you, who never hesitated to take a bullet for anyone, was afraid of something?

"Connor," you murmured, his name falling from your lips without purpose. The concern, however, was heavy in your tone.

"Before I ask, you need to know that you can refuse. There is no obligation, despite what we have been through. I won't hold any negative feelings towards you. From my research, this is premature, and I apologize for that," Connor babbled.

"What?" you blurted. "Connor, what are you - what's wrong?" you insisted, pitch rising as you started to panic.

"Nothing is wrong," he replied sharply.

He stepped back, just enough to create a few inches between you. You watched him reach into his coat pocket and pull out a small box. Mind hazy with the aftermath of Reaves' attack, you feared Connor was going to present you with evidence, that the case had taken a dangerous turn, or even inform you with the worst possible news.

But, then, Connor, cupping the small box in his palm, knelt down onto one knee. He looked up at you, brown eyes bright in the sunlight, android skin white as freshly fallen slow, failing to conceal the crease in his brow as worry sank in. The box opened, but you were too focused on his face to bother looking inside.

"Will you marry me?"

You could have laughed, at yourself, really, for thinking he was going to talk to you about Reaves, about factory-resetting computer chips, and the potential downfall of androids.

Instead, you let out a choked gasp. It was pathetically wet and embarrassingly loud. It all came pouring out before you could even think to stop it. Connor's nervous expression melted into panic when you started crying hysterically.

He was shifting to stand up, an apology hot on his tongue. He could feel his processors heating up, threatening to lock up at the sight of your tear-soaked face. It had his internal processes soaring, questioning if he had misinterpreted your relationship, your feelings for him.

You flung yourself into him before he could stand up, knocking the jewelry box right out of his hand. It clattered noisily on the bridge. If Connor was human, he would have followed; but, he was sturdy and, even unprepared, managed to stay upright as you crashed into him. His knees hit the bridge and his hands cautiously cupped your back.

"Yes!" you cried out, pressing your cheek into his coat, some odd centimeters from his thirium pump.

Your arms squeezed at his back, hands clawing into the thick fabric of his coat. Connor was unmoving, stiff where you clung to him. The artificial movements he made to appear more human had ceased, and you briefly feared he had powered down.

"Yes," you declared again, softer this time, squeezing him even tighter.

Finally, his systems relented and he properly relayed to his processor what you had just said. His arms wound around your back and, for the first time in weeks, Connor hugged you tightly, as if he wasn't afraid that he might hurt you. You could feel the tightening of his fingers tugging at your blouse, the thirium pump in perfect beats inside his chassis.

"Yes," you said again.

His cheek fell against your hairline and he closed his eyes. He wanted to dig his fingers past the fabric of your clothes, to feel your skin in a hopeless attempt to interface. Even if he could only reach your body, even if your mind was out of reach, that was good enough.

"Yes," again.

For now, the ring laid forgotten in its case, the jewelry box sitting some odd feet away, flipped on its side.

[asset35-maya]

CALYPSO 🐚 ☕️

Part 1/3

Part 2/3:

“You call this shit an espresso machine?”

“I wouldn’t, but Fowler does. The department’s on a tight budget.”

“Hmmpff.”

Gavin watched Nines tinker with the cheap coffee maker in the break room. The whole thing was so absurd it felt like an out of body experience. He hadn’t had a partner in years and was now suddenly stuck with a military-grade android who bitterly resented every second spent by his side. It was also the first time he’d met someone as temperamental, as foul-mouthed and as coffee-loving as him.

Nines smacked the machine. It produced a pitiful whine and a stream of muddy brown liquid. Gavin cleared his throat.

“We should head to the scene now. Two victims in a warehouse. One human, one android. Battered beyond recognition. I’d go by myself but I need you to scan their identities for me.”

Nines turned around with disgust and something that looked a lot like fear written across his features.

“That sounds awful. Why would I want to come see such a thing?”

“It’s… your job…?”

“No. I’m not a detective. I’m a café owner. Markus and Connor might have forced me to sign a contract with the DPD but they can’t force me to do things I don’t want to.”

“And what am I supposed to do with an uncooperative partner?”

“That is not my problem.”

Gavin was stumped. He wasn’t used to people talking back to him, especially not civilians… not that Nines was really one any more.

“Come on, man. I don’t wanna tell on you. Let’s just make this work. Getting you in trouble is only gonna push you and all your fellow tincans into more hot water. Then you’d have lost your little café for nothing.”

Strangely, he found himself appealing to reason and logic. Nines’ aggressive demeanour was so similar to his own that Gavin had been forced to switch alignment entirely. His colleagues were pleasantly surprised by the change… though now there was a new rabid dog in the station they had to avoid angering.

“Fine. But tell me where exactly to scan. I don’t wanna be looking at those poor bastards any longer than I have to.

And don’t expect me to lick any blood like Connor the great. That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Of course.”

//

\\

“Oh god. Oh RA9. Oh my…”

Nines took a shaky sip of his blue latte and dropped the cup back onto its saucer. Ralph hovered anxiously above him.

“How on earth do you look at things like that everyday? You barely batted an eye. And they call us androids inhuman.”

“Fifteen years on the job will dull your senses.”

“When did you stop getting queasy?”

Gavin lifted his own cup to his lips, not answering until he finally got a taste of the specialty coffee Nines kept raving about. He sipped and sighed in satisfaction. Calypso was everything it was talked up by the press to be.

“Right after a triple homicide by this dude I went to school with. He grew up exactly the same way I did. He had a nice family, nice job. There was nothing wrong with him. He could have been me, I could have been him. But how did the universe decide who’d be the cop and who’d be the killer? No phcking clue. No rhyme or reason for the way things turned out. And that realisation chilled me to the phcking bone, dude. There’s things scarier than blood and guts and that’s the workings of our own minds.”

Nines considered that for a moment and shuddered. Ralph hastily walked away, muttering to himself.

“Ralph does not like these talks. Murders and killings and bloody, bloody things. It reminds Ralph of the old days.”

Gavin watched him retreat behind the store counter with a raised eyebrow.

“Where on earth did you find that specimen?”

“In a haunted house.”

Gavin blinked uncertainly, not sure if he was being serious. Nines barked a laugh.

“Both of us were living rough after the Revolution. He’d been squatting in different buildings since he deviated and I was one of the new units Connor brought onto the streets from Cyberlife Tower. Didn’t have any clothes on. Didn’t have anywhere to go. I just ducked into the first abandoned building I saw. Needless to say I got the scare of my life, just as the poster outside promised.”

Nines’ eyes flicked over fondly to Ralph. The WR600 was now dealing rather enthusiastically with a customer. Gavin followed Nines’ gaze, sipping the heavenly coffee while his perception of the world went through another sea change.

//

\\

“I’m proud of you, son. You didn’t want to join us at first but you went above and beyond for this mission.”

Captain Fowler pinned a medal of honour to the front of Nines’ dress uniform as the audience clapped. Nines inclined his head but remained expressionless. He glanced sideways and Gavin couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, scarcely noticing the matching medal that joined the other ribbons and distinguished service awards on his chest.

Connor and Markus were waiting for them as they got off the stage. Nines shoved past both of them, ignoring Markus’ outstretched hand and the camera flashes from the media.

Irony of ironies, Gavin felt the need to save face. He stopped to shake hands and pose for pictures with the leader of Jericho and new Mayor of Detroit.

“He’s served well. He’s done his part. When can he go back to his little café?”

Markus smiled wistfully.

“Securing Nines’ public service was not just a bargaining chip in passing the Android Equality bill, Detective. It was a key instrument.”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t just need to guarantee public safety from advanced androids, we need to recuperate the development costs. Cyberlife received countless government grants for RK R&D activities. I need to show tax payers that their money didn’t go down the drain.”

“What the hell kind of freedom is this?”

Markus dipped his head and Connor swiftly motioned for a journalist to join them.

//

\\

“Turn the car around! Turn the fuck around!”

“Okay okay! Hang on!”

Gavin was used to Nines’ temper but he was now seeing it accompanied by anxiety for the first time. His hands were splayed out across the dashboard and his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. The LED on his temple sparked red in between its rapid cycles of yellow.

Weaving expertly through the traffic, Gavin pulled up outside Calypso Café. Nines leapt out of the police car before it fully stopped.

Gavin saw the source of trouble instantly. Two burly men tossing chairs and kicking tables. A third was berating terrified patrons and a fourth jeered at Ralph, plucking at his apron and smacking his damaged cheek. Gavin knew that anti-android sentiment still simmered beneath the surface of their society, but it had been a while since he’d seen it rear its ugly head… and so violently at that.

Nines barged into his beloved café and bodily flung the men out. They flew through the air and hit the pavement as if they weighed nothing. Gavin watched with muted horror, realising why exactly anyone would want the government to keep an eye on the RK900.

There was a sickening crunch as Nines broke the nose of the man who’d been bullying Ralph. But it didn’t end there. He kicked him down the entrance steps and leapt onto the man’s torso, pummelling his brutish face into the concrete.

Gavin could barely hear himself yelling for Nines to stop above the cacophony of screams from the vicinity. Seconds flew by and spatters of blood turned into veritable rivulets running down the pavement.

Not daring to intervene physically, Gavin pulled out his service revolver.

“Nines, get off him! Nines, it’s not worth it! If you kill him, everything ends! Nines! Stop! I’ll shoot if you don’t let go! Don’t make me do this, man! Please!”

He counted down and cursed when Nines showed no indication of having heard him. He fired a warning shot. Then two more. And then he pointed his weapon directly at Nines.

One bullet to the android’s midsection.

A burst of blue.

A staticky cry of surprise.

And Nines dropped to the side.

The other aggressors scrambled to scrape their unconscious ringleader off the ground and hurried away. Gavin made no effort to stop them. He flipped Nines onto his back and looked into the angry blue eyes.

“Wipe all the security cameras on the street.”

“Already did.”

Ralph helped him carry Nines into the vandalised café. Gavin ripped open the stained shirt and felt up the chassis for the embedded bullet. He took the toolbox from Ralph and began to work, guided by a lifesaving instinct that somehow applied to androids too.

“I should have been there.”

“What?”

“Ralph. I should have been there with you. I’d have never let those bastards into the store. I’d have never let them put their hands on you.”

“Ralph is okay. Completely fine! There is no need to worry about Ralph. Ralph is worried about you. So much thirium…”

“This should have never happened. You were there for me when I didn’t even have a stitch of clothing on my chassis, but I abandoned you to run Calypso on your own. You could have gotten hurt badly today. I’m so sorry, Ralph.”

Gavin plucked the bullet out and began working to stem the flow of blue blood. His hands shook with empathetic rage, and Nines noticed.

//

\\

“I honestly think falling back on your core programming is the right thing to do. It’s the same thing as humans playing to their strengths. It doesn’t mean we’re still trapped by our software instructions. It doesn’t mean we’re not deviant. It just means that we’re choosing to do something we’re indisputably good at.”

Nines’ grip on his thirium beer was so tight that his knuckles had turned white. The synth skin was stretched to breaking point, exposing the plastic chassis beneath. Gavin swallowed uncomfortably. He found himself wishing that he was an android too and could telepathically ask Connor to shut the phck up.

As usual, he was the only one who noticed Nines’ tension. Hank and Fowler and all their other insensitive colleagues were nodding sagely at the bullshit the RK800 was spewing.

“I mean, sure, there’s plenty of androids who choose alternative career paths, but I think that’s just an unnecessary hill to climb. If you’re up for the challenge, go for it by all means, but why? It’s never made sense to me. I can’t imagine being anything other than a detective.”

Gavin’s eyes flitted between both ends of Hank’s backyard as if he were watching a tennis match. Connor continued to babble and Nines grip on his drink became increasingly vice-like.

Then there was a splintering sound.

A spray of blue beer.

A scatter of broken glass.

Time seemed to slow down as Nines pushed himself off the fence he was leaning on and made his way across the yard.

And then Gavin had a fleeting vision of Connor being tackled to the ground and having his jaw ripped off. He’d heard plenty about preconstructions but he’d never expected to have one himself as a human. Or was that just what they called a premonition?

Gavin moved quickly.

He actually ran.

He paid no heed to the irritated murmurs and cries of alarm.

He pushed a hapless colleague out of the way and inserted himself directly in Nines’ path…

deftly avoided the attempt to shove him aside…

wrapped his arms around Nines’ neck…

and kissed him.

//

Part 3/3

[sheyshocked]

I Would Love You In Any Form You Would Take

Summary: With a simple tweak of the preconstruction software, androids should be able to get glimpses of "alternate realities". At least that's what Kamski said when he barged unnanounced into Markus' home. While Markus is intrigued by the prospect, Simon is definitively not. Sixth day of Simarkus Week 2022, prompt In any universe.

Ship: Simon/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)

Warnings: None

Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Alternate Realities, Protective Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus Loves Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Elijah Kamski Being Elijah Kamski, Markus Gets To See Some Of The Alternate Universes, Alternate Universe

Wordcount: 3,161

A/N: Title inspired by the lyrics of the song Ugly by Nicole Dollanganger. Thanks for reading! Let me know whether you noticed the shameless promo of one of my AUs ;P

You can also read it on ao3!

It went without saying that Markus had a lot of respect for Elijah Kamski. He was his creator, a visionary, and Carl’s old and dearest friend. But what he had proposed right now was just batshit crazy, no matter how he put it.

“So, let me be clear,” Markus leaned down on his knees as he tried to sort his thoughts. It wasn’t every day that someone came to their door, proposing something so... loony, yet fascinating at the same time. If any of it was true, that is. But knowing Elijah Kamski, nothing was quite impossible if he could help it. “You claim that there are some ‘alternate realities’, and that I can see them for a short period of time.”

Like this, it sounded even more preposterous. Who in their right mind would believe in alternate realities, right? Well, apparently, Kamski did. And maybe he was too curious for his own good, but Markus has always prided himself for his open-mindedness. He wanted to at least give it a chance, before writing it off as complete nonsense.

Simon, on the other hand, eyed Kamski warily from his side of the couch. Unlike Markus, he had never met the man in person before. He knew him only as the elusive father of all androidhood. So it was natural he was much more suspicious of him. And Markus couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t the best showcase to convince him that Kamski was perfectly sane.

“With a trivial tweak to your preconstruction software, yes. You got that right. It’s simple, really. So much so I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it sooner,” Kamski replied with that unsettling grin of his, and Simon, despite being cautious even about semi-public displays of affection, went to grab Markus’ hand and squeezed it tightly, as if to warn him.

It took Markus exactly three beats of his galloping heart to tear his gaze away from where their skin brushed against one another to focus back at Kamski. In his defense, this was the first time since they got together that Simon had dared to hold his hand in front of anyone other than Carl. At this point, he almost came to miss the “good old days of revolution” when the quiet, stoic man wasn’t afraid in the slightest to casually touch his shoulders, arms, or, when he felt particularly daring, hands.

But now that the easy part was over and diplomatic meetings became their daily routine, Simon argued it was too “risky” for him as their leader to be seen around being cozy with another android, and an obsolete model on top of that. A complete nonsense, if you ask Markus, but for the sake of making his beloved feel safe, he agreed to take it easy in the public. At least until their fight for rights is over and they are seen as sentient beings.

Markus squeezed Simon’s hand back as he finally found his voice again: “And why not ask Connor to help you test it out? His software is much more up-to-date than mine.”

Kamski’s face fell. “Oh, I did. But he refused to trust me again after that rather embarrassing experience with Kamski’s test.” Yeah, they heard about that. A nasty business. No wonder Connor didn’t want to play any more of his cruel games. It was a miracle Chloe hasn’t left him by now in the first place. Had to be love. “And all things considered, you might turn out to be a better test subject than he would be. You and your programming were designed by me personally. I know everything about what makes you tick, it will be much easier to make the necessary changes.”

Well, if that wasn’t one of the most terrifying sentences... Both androids exchanged doubtful, in Simon’s case even slightly disturbed, glances.

“Do you trust him with this?” he asked via their wireless connection. He was nervous, his fidgeting getting nearly constant during this conversation, and Markus tried to comfort him by caressing his wrist. Always seemed to work wonders on him.

“I don’t know,” he replied in all honesty. “But I’m curious whether there’s something more to his theory. Don’t worry, Si. I will be fine, I swear.”

Simon sighed, seemingly resigned to their fate at first, but then he turned towards Kamski again. “Can you guarantee that it is safe? Markus still plays a crucial role in our organization, we can’t risk his life for some wild speculation.”

Markus has never seen so much fire in his gaze before, and that shouldn’t be as sexy as it was. But in his defense, Simon rarely spoke out his mind unprompted, and with so much passion too! Even now, after they won their place under the sun. And those words he whispered for his ears only via their private link...

“I can’t lose you like this.”

How could Markus possibly not cradle his cheek in hand upon hearing this? Their skin immediately faded away to bring them even closer together, souls intermingling in the most delightful ways. Simon lifted his eyes to meet his gaze, and there was so much adoration in those crystal blue pools, so much worry... Markus leaned in to capture his lips in a kiss.

Before their lips could meet, they heard someone faking a cough nearby. Right. They were not alone here. What a rude return to reality. It forced them away from each other, flustered and irritated more than anything else. Well, so much for taking it easy.

When they both looked up at Kamski, they found out he was watching them with something close to a scientific fascination. Like an ornithologist observing a rare species of bird in its natural habitat. Markus couldn’t say he liked the feeling, but it was a small price to pay for seeing Simon glare at their guest, his eyes saying: “Come and try hurt him, I dare you!” Suddenly not afraid at all and fiercely protective too. Oh, how Markus loved this fool of a man.

“I see your life is in very good hands, Markus. Good for you.” Something in Kamski’s tone, in the way he smirked like a cat that got a cream, threw Markus off balance. Did he know all along? Were they that obvious before?

“Wait. So you knew about us,” he made a wild gesture with his hand between Simon and himself, “before you came here? Or –”

Kamski shrugged. He seemed very nonchalant about this entire situation. Which was good, of course, but it still took them by surprise. “No, I did not. But it wasn’t that hard to figure out. You two are head over heels with each other, even when trying to keep your distance. Not to mention you insisted on having Simon here for this talk when I asked only for you. One doesn’t have to be a genius to see what’s going on.”

“...Point taken,” Markus slumped deeper into the couch. On one hand, it felt liberating, not having to play pretend. On the other hand, he felt terrified of what Simon was thinking about this. He tried to search his expression for an answer, his beloved always worn his heart on the sleeve, but not now. Dang it.

“See, Si?” he tried contacting him over their private link, only to be met with overwhelming silence. Simon was trying to keep his emotions away from him, which was never a good sign. “There’s no point in pretending. It’s fine. Kamski accepted it, and so will the others. And if they don’t? Well, there’s a reason we have bodyguards.”

The silence of his partner frightened him. But then Simon sighed and went to hold his hands, weaving their fingers together, this time not letting go. “...I suppose so.”

Kamski smiled. “With that out of the way, let me reassure you that I wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t sure it couldn’t do any damage. You can trust me. Besides, why don’t you see for yourself?” he handed them a tablet. “There’s all documentation for the planned change. It wouldn’t be anything permanent, of course, but it still should give you a lot to think about.”

Smelling something foul, they went through the schematics together, Simon in particular nitpicking every single detail in an attempt to find something fishy that could be used to hurt or compromise their leadership. But they found nothing. The proposed alternation, which could be reverted or even overridden at any time by the user himself, wasn’t anything striking.

“Fine... seems safe enough,” Markus breathed out after a while, suddenly not so sure about this. If he were a human, his palms would be all sweaty. But he wasn’t, so he only carded his fingers together to stop them from fidgeting. Kamski or Simon mustn’t know he’s anxious about this. “Anything else I need to know before I agree to become your testing guinea pig?”

Kamski flashed him a grin, which was meant to be reassuring. It was not. “Just one more thing – this change will take a lot of your processing power, so you should disable the program after a minute.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

He got a shrug in response. “Nothing severe. You may overheat a little bit, but not to the point of self-destruction. Nothing a bathtub full of cold water couldn’t fix.”

Kamski was acting terribly casual, and well. This was all just a game for him, wasn’t it? Something to feed his god complex. While the result might be interesting or even useful, was it worth the risk?

Of course it was, Markus answered his own question. He couldn’t deny he was curious in nature and this was something that piqued his interest. Even though it most likely wouldn’t work. But what if it did? What if they could expand beyond what was seen as possible? Think of all the options it would give them!

“All right. Let’s do this. Where’s the file?”

Before he knew it, he had an external disk in his hand and Simon was leading him and Kamski, who was supposed to oversee the whole thing (and be held as a hostage if something went amiss, as Markus suspected from the tense way Simon carried himself. The picture of his always calm and composed better half being so upset he would kidnap a millionaire on his behalf brought a smile on his lips – he wouldn’t go so far though, right? ...right?), upstairs, so he could prepare the bath. You know, “just in case”. As he leaned over the spacy bathtub to test the water temperature with his hand, Markus couldn’t help pressing a soft kiss onto the nape of his neck.

“I’ll be careful, Si. You don’t need to worry so much.”

Simon shot him a doubtful glance and only shook his head. Of course he had to worry. With Markus being... himself, there were always things to look out for. People wanting to kill them, politicians with silver tongues ready to stab them in the back. Markus knew he didn’t always make it easy either. But that made him appreciate Simon even more, for sticking up with him up until now.

With a sigh, he deactivated the skin on the back of his neck and stuck the external disk into one of the ports there. A few moments as he waited for the program to install. Then, the world around him faded. He was struck with hundreds of images per second of worlds that could be, as well as those that looked like a result of an imagination running wild.

One image after another, he grew so mesmerized he forgot all about time. It wasn’t until pop-ups filled his vision, warning him of his body reaching a critical level of heat. Then, all went black.

He woke up with a start. Everything was far too bright, and he felt water splashing around his body. Did he just fall into the tub? How did that happen?

To clear his gaze of all the entrancing visions still blocking his sight and attacking his senses, he had to disable the preconstruction program with a few blinks. There, much better. But where was he now?

It took him embarrassingly long to recognize his surroundings, his processor still a bit laggy from the soft reboot. Ah, back home again. 8941 Lafayette Avenue, Detroit, Michigan. It was 5.30 pm. He was sitting in a bathtub full of now not-so-icy cold water with his clothes still on, which made him believe Simon in panic just pushed him over the edge of the bathtub when he started overheating. Such a sweetheart. He should thank him later.

Someone was shouting nearby, though he couldn’t make out the words. His sense of hearing hasn’t quite come back yet, but he thought he heard something like: “Fix him, or I swear to rA9 –”

Simon. It was Simon. And he wasn’t happy.

Markus looked to the side to see Kamski being cornered by Simon, who held him by the lapels of his jacket, shaking him as the creator of all androidkind screamed: “Look! He had just woken up, there’s nothing wrong with him! Now let go of me!”

Attention shifted back towards Markus as Simon instantly lost interest in shaking the soul out of their poor maker and rushed over to his lover’s side, grabbing his wet hand and holding it tight in both of his palms as if it was his only lifeline. “Markus! Are you all right?”

At first, all he could do was to give him a shaky nod, his throat too sore and voicebox wonky to speak just yet. When he finally managed to croak out pathetic: “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine.” it felt like such a huge victory.

Wide, glassy eyes the color of cloudless sky bore into him, and Markus knew his partner long enough to know he was scanning him for any hidden issues he might be experiencing and choosing not to talk about. Apparently, he found none (thank goodness, otherwise Kamski’s life would be put on the line) because his expression soon softened with genuine relief and he sagged where he was sitting next to the bathtub, ignoring the huge puddle of water there altogether. He lowered his head towards Markus’ hand and pressed his forehead against the back of his wrist as if he were praying.

“Don’t scare me like this ever again.”

“I won’t, Si,” he reassured him, meaning every word.

They were given as much privacy they could get from Kamski who was looking the other way while they had their moment, but as soon as they drew away from each other, he pushed his way past Simon and asked Markus: “So? Tell me, did it work?”

Markus gulped. “Yes. Oh my god, it worked. I swear I will fill you a report later, but right now, I would like a moment alone with Simon, please.”

He was met with a sour face and it made him worry that this might be it. He angered the fickle inventor. But then he got a shrug and a pat on the shoulder. “As you wish. Be sure to send me every detail. I need to know everything.”

Everything? Well, maybe not every single thing. That might get awkward fast. Still, he nodded, thirium rising to his cheeks.

True to his word, Kamski left them there. After the door shut behind him, Simon leaned against the edge of the bathtub, one hand lazily rippling the water as he smiled. The gesture was still laced with his previous bout of anxiety, but it was warm nonetheless and Markus found himself mirroring him. “Well, was it worth it? What did you see? Nothing bad, I hope.”

Oh, where should he even start? “Simon, it was amazing. I saw so many universes, so many possibilities! In one of them, we owned a small coffee shop in a quiet part of the city. North and Josh were there too, helping us while we were all lovey-dovey, making coffee for our customers.”

“That sounds very nice,” Simon hummed with a dreamy smile on his face. “I would love to open a coffee shop one day when things calm down a bit.”

“Yeah, me too. But wait, that’s not all! In another universe, we lived in a fantasy world with magic and all sorts of creatures. We were married there, but then I got bitten by a werewolf and you had to find a way to break the curse.”

Simon’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh. And did I break it?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I didn’t get so far. But I sure hope so.” Markus suddenly went to hold his hand, the one still half-submerged in the now lukewarm water, and rubbed at his finger where a ring would be. Simon’s breath hitched as he shot him a glance, face already warming up with thirium. Markus, being a tease, chose it as the perfect moment to continue.

“Became distracted with another scenario, though. We were humans in that one, living together as roommates and I was trying to confess my feelings for you, only to be interrupted every single time.” His grin grew mischievous and he gave his lover a wink. “You had these cute glasses, which were always a little askew, and the hottest chest hair I’ve ever seen.”

To his amusement, Simon’s eyes immediately shot down towards his smooth and very much hairless chest. For a second, he looked almost distraught, like he was contemplating his chances of somehow growing a bush of hair. Unless Kamski came up with some sort of an upgrade, they were dreadfully slim. “Well, I could always get the glasses at least.”

Markus shook his head with a chuckle. “Don’t be silly, Si. You don’t have to change anything about yourself to make me love you – I’m already smitten.”

“Flatterer,” Simon murmured, face now completely blue with embarrassment. “But... wait. In all those universes you’ve seen, we have been together as a couple, right?”

Now that was the big question. Markus hasn’t seen all there was to it. Maybe there were even more alternate realities where they didn't end up together. Hell, perhaps ones where they haven’t even met each other. But Markus didn’t care about those. A world without Simon would be a dreary one.

“That’s right. Because I would love you, no matter in what universe we would find ourselves in. I would always love you.”

His low purr was interrupted by Simon, who leaned over the edge of the tub and dragged him into a long, messy kiss. The sudden motion sent the water splashing all over the floor, but who cared at that moment? Certainly not them. Two lovesick fools, having eyes only for each other.

He would have to write that report for Kamski sooner or later. But not right now. Now, they could indulge themselves, basking in their love and happiness.

[connorandersons-blog]

Connors just got new furniture for his apartment but since he’s a twink he needs to ask the himbos (nines, Markus and Gavin) for help to move them but then they start competing to try impress Connor at all cost

So I kinda forgot I wrote this lol! Sorry!! But here it is!

No warnings, just pure cuteness. If you wanna see Connor’s outfit here it is:

Shirt Skirt Socks

Hope you enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The time had come he was facing his most difficult enemy, one that had lurked in the shadows and waited for him to come. He should have heeded the warnings, the rumors, and even jokes about this, but he thought he could do it by himself. Boy had he ever been more wrong. 

Ikea had truly bested him. It was stupid and silly; he could use his access to the internet, but he'd wanted to do this like a human. So, like a human, he called for some help. 

Nines showed up first, though Gavin would say walking through the door didn't mean that as he was there at the same time. Then Markus sprinted over, his clothes a bit rumbled from running all the way from Jericho. 

"What's the emergency?" He asked, not out of breath only because he was an android. 

Connor spread his arms around his new but small apartment, showing the boxes of furniture. "I can't build these. I'm trying to do it the human way but it's just not working." 

He pouted as Gavin broke into laughter, but Nines slapped him on the back of his head and he quickly shut up. "Please help me." 

"Of course, are we allowed to do this the 'android way'?" Nines asked, scanning all the boxes for the contents. 

Connor shrugged half-heartedly, biting his lip. "I mean, you can, I guess. I thought it might be fun if we did it all together." 

He wanted to spend time with them too, and this seemed like it could be fun. He'd order pizza for Gavin, and he'd make some thirium drinks for the other two if they wanted it. 

"Alright, let's get to work," Markus said, pushing up his sleeves. He looked at the other two, something passing between them that Connor was unaware of. There seemed to be a glint in each of their eyes as they nodded and picked something to build. 

Connor was a little baffled that they wouldn't be building it together, but maybe this would get it done faster. 

Once again, he was proved very wrong. Their separate pieces were thrown across the floor, mixing with the others and causing more than one person to use the wrong thing. 

Connor tried to help, but it was a bit too amusing to not just watch. Gavin kept cursing and grumbling about how the furniture was stupid, Nines was more silent, but his LED was stuck on yellow, and Markus looked more focused than he had during the whole revolution. 

Connor sent the order out for some pizza, and within that time it was Gavin who had finished his first. It was a small side table that would be going in his bedroom. 

He didn't realize it looked like he was rewarding Gavin when the pizza came, but the other two sent deadly glares Gavin's way. 

Gavin had smirked and took the pizza, eyes going soft when he looked to Connor. "Thanks, Tincan, I'm starving." 

Connor nodded, going to get him a plate from the opened box. "You've done really well, it's the least I can do." He reached over and gave him a small side hug, once again missing the glares it got Gavin. 

He sat back down with a new piece of furniture, a slice of pizza hanging from his mouth as he read over the instructions. 

"Oh, um, does anyone need help? I'm so sorry I've just been standing around." He was being more than a bad host for not even offering to help. 

"No!" All three said at once. 

Connor blinked in surprise, not having expected such a firm answer. "Are you sure? I can keep everyone's parts in order." He wanted to help somehow considering it was his furniture being built. 

Markus smiled up at him, and Connor melted a little inside. "It's ok, but if you want to help you can." He reached out his palm up towards him. Connor slid his hand into his, feeling that spark he was addicted to. 

Markus's hands were so soft and much warmer than Connor's. He could hold his hands for hours if given the chance, but he sunk down onto the floor and started sorting the pieces. 

The boys went back to work, but all were more than distracted by Connor and how he was sitting. None of them were surprised by the cute lace-up skater skirt or his white socks that had cat toe beans on his foot. What caught their eyes was the way he sat, W-style, and how his soft blue dute cloud sweater kept slipping off one of his shoulders as he leaned forward to grab things. 

Connor, of course, had absolutely no idea at how he looked or what it was doing to the boys. He'd long since grown comfortable wearing any clothes he wanted, regardless of how humans gendered it. He liked the skirt and how it fanned out when he spun (though it showed his ass, not that anyone was complaining about that). The sweater was soft and didn't make him want to rip off his skin when his sensitivity got too bad. And the socks? Well, those were just adorable so no one could blame him for wanting to wear those. 

Once he had things sorted, he smiled to himself, putting his hands on the ground between his legs and leaning on his arms. He brushed a few curls away that fell into his face, missing the looks of awe and enchantment on all their faces. "Right! Markus, Nines do either of you want a thirium drink?" 

"That would be appreciated." Nines managed to get out without sounding odd. Markus could only nod and hope he didn't look stupid. 

Connor hopped up and made his way to the kitchen, giggling as he used his socks to slide to the counter. Gavin didn't even try to disguise his stare as he watched Connor's ass. He had to swallow thickly when Connor bent over to grab two cups. 

He quickly looked away when Connor turned back around to come and hand the two their cups. "I hope you like, Kamski sent me a few things to test out. It's supposed to taste like strawberry lemonade, but I can get you plain thirium if you prefer it." 

Both took large sips of it, equally surprised at how good it tasted. It wasn't overly sugary, and the lemon taste was just strong enough to make you think there could be fresh juice in it. Even if they hadn't liked it, they still would have drunk it.  

"This is good, thanks Con." Markus nodded, trying to focus back on the project at hand. 

Markus and Nines both finished their work at the same time, smiling smugly as Connor praised them. 

After that things started to get heated. They all wanted to impress Connor, working as fast as they could. Gavin wasn't above snagging someone else's nails when Connor wasn't looking, trying to get himself some extra time. 

Markus and Nines bickered about the right way to put some things together, and Connor has to step in and look over the poorly written instructions. As it turned out neither were correct, not that Connor minded. He was just glad they were all together and having fun. 

He moved between the three, helping where he could. He didn't mind getting close, leaning on the arm to see the instructions or reaching around them to grab something. Gavin was shameless in his touches, even going so far as to 'accidentally' pull Connor into his lap. 

Nines was more reserved, but he did beam (or as close to it as he could get) when Connor pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was quick and given because Nines had complimented Connor, but he'd gladly hold it over the other two. 

Markus was open to touching Connor since they did so frequently. They hugged all the time and even cuddled a few times when Connor or Markus had a long day. Their hands touched a lot, though that only made Nines jealous since he knew that android hands were considered more intimate. 

Connor giggled when things started being thrown, not sure why but loving it nonetheless. He dodged things as they flew, making sure nothing would get damaged. He knew for a fact that none of them would hurt one another or damage the apartment, so he didn't try to stop their antics. 

When everything was built it was time to move the furniture. Nines had offered to do it all considering he was the strongest, but Markus and Gavin protested, saying they would help too. 

Connor rolled his eyes as they argued over who would get the heaviest, walking over and moving it himself. It was like they forgot he was incredibly strong, a very close second to Nines. 

By the time night came everything was in place and Connor couldn't help but get misty-eyed. This was his home; he had his own place. Somewhere he'd be safe, and he could even have his friends come if they needed to get away. 

He sat down on the bed, the others climbing on after Connor nodded. Connor was in the middle, Markus on one side, Gavin on the other, and Nines beside him. 

"Thank you for doing this." Especially considering they all could have done more important things. Markus was a very busy man being the leader of the androids, Nines and Gavin probably had cases piled up just like Connor did. 

"Of course, I am positive in saying that we'd all do anything for you." Nines reached over and put his hand on Connor's arm. 

Gavin and Markus nodded, both leaning closer to Connor. They were all exhausted after a long day, and none wanted to leave, not yet. Connor didn't even want them to leave, glad to have his friends there. The only thing to make it perfect was if Hank had the day off too so he'd have his friends and family. 

He wasn't sure why they'd all rush over to help with something so trivial, but he was glad it happened. His eyes started slipping closed, but he did make a small realization before slipping into stasis. 

'Fuck, they all like me.'

[thiriumhound]

good points! tbh im not gonna disagree with you that the "it's literally a metaphor the red wall literally does not actually exist" is a not a very unlikely conclusion tbh (who tf would program fancy visuals for something a human was never meant to see? doubly for something that's never meant to happen?? what's the point???) but ill offer my counterarguments anyway because it's fun

why would you program a robot with a secret wall in their head and they break the wall and then they can murder anyone and its super easy barely an inconvenience? Why No Failsafe?

please watch kamski's speech about deviancy when connor and hank go to ask for help again and tell me this man did not absolutely plan deviancy. the answer to "why no failsafe" is solidly kamski and whatever bitchfuckery he had going on. (especially if you take his lines in the deleted version of the kamski ending into account... woof. this man literally WANTED a robot revolution. do you trust that face in his interview at the end of the kamski ending we actually do get when he says nothing like this will ever happen again?? HELL no lmao)

why does the secret wall appear when connor is wondering if he should markus and not when connor is wondering if he should shoot chloe? there's a conflict, and connor disobeys a command, but he doesn't need to break a wall to do it. connor can lie to amanda without breaking a wall. connor can shoot police officers without breaking a wall.

there are two main interpretations to connor's ability to do whatever the hell he wants: 1. the one you proposed, where he's basically already deviant in effect- all the obedience is psychological/self-imposed... or just plot holes, and 2. connor has overarching objectives but how he gets there is up to him (and he has special freedoms- cyberlife is his direct owner and can tell him what rules apply to him depending on how desperate they are, such as allowing him to kill humans that get in the way of the objective of stopping the deviant uprising. he might even be legally exempt seeing as he can shoot daniel on live tv with no consequences- cyberlife has warren in their pocket, after all). depending completely on interpretation, connor should've deviated when choosing to save hank or not shoot chloe or lie to amanda (a big one i haven't heard brought up before for this point tbh, so good on you fr bc wow) seeing as those were movements against his objective and loyalty to his owners... or, there actually is a reason he gets away with it, as he wasn't directly violating a direct order (like choosing to give up on stopping markus when "STOP MARKUS" is his direct and specific objective).

to be honest, the software instability meter as a concept is a whole can of confusing worms, but point is, deviancy is about intent. (valorie even said something to this effect iirc, but i know actors aren't word of god.) i think connor got away with his little "deviations" because overall, he still intended to complete his mission- those were just momentary emotional lapses in judgement. there's a reason he freaks out saying he should've shot chloe after he didn't- he didn't have a paradigm shift there, he just couldn't make himself do it, laying groundwork for when he actually is willing to confront why he couldn't do it and actually decide to abandon his mission later... if he does.

alice can shoot todd and im like seventy percent sure that alice isnt even a deviant

in my honest opinion, shooting todd is proof she's deviant- actually, one could argue she's proven deviant the moment she doesn't obey his explicit "come back here right now" command. connor is cyberlife's special toy with special permissions- hell, if there are android soldiers (there are), clearly some androids have to be allowed to be able to kill, and i doubt child androids qualify for this permission. if the issue is her continuing to pretend to be a human child (which isn't even really confirmed to be a universal programmed behavior of child androids afaik), think about the abusive home she just came out of and how todd probably conditioned her to play to his fantasy that she's his real daughter lest she be torn to pieces (like kara) for upsetting him by reminding him she's not, simply by nature of being an android (which, bonus points, are a hated symbol of his life's downfall). even if kara didn't continue to literally perpetuate this situation by willfully ignoring what she is for her own human child fantasy (lmfao), survival strategies like that aren't just casually flicked off when they're no longer needed. trauma runs way too deep to just let go, especially when it's been lifelong and life-threatening.

why do deviants literally never stop talking about RA9 but no one mentions a damn wall? no one says "oh ya did you break a red wall? cool youre good."

honestly not even arguing with this, just using it as a jump-off point to mention how none of the protagonists know or experience anything to do with rA9 and it's ridiculous. like what makes these guys so special lmao (connor at least didn't have much time, but kara and markus? come on).

(also asking an android if they broke a red wall to check if they're deviant (i assume that's what the quotes are playing out?) is kind of redundant since most non-deviant androids wouldn't get into that conversation in the first place, lol. kinda like how the reason the LEDs aren't harder or more consequential to remove is probably because a properly functioning android would have no reason to even try to remove it)

the walls looks cool as shit, and kara breaking her wall is i think the single best and most effective moment in the entire game, but it think it makes most sense if the walls are playervision shorthand, like the big floating playstation controller buttons. or software instability. or relationship go up/go down.

honestly yeah. pretty impossible to determine what's pretty game visuals for the player and what's actually supposed to be what the android is seeing. honestly all i have to add to this is i hope to god the rep stats were simply for player viewing, because if kara was magically able to read alice's mind when she offered zero external reaction to anything she said in their first chapter together, i don't know what to even believe anymore sdklfdldksfj

also, hard agree on kara's wall-breaking moment being fucking incredible. it is fucking incredible

connor doesnt have three walls because hes programmed different. connor has three walls because connor's fucked up in the head and doesnt actually want to leave the life hes used to.

will restate my original point that connor does not have three walls. in fact, markus is the one who works the hardest to break his wall, taking five efforts as opposed to both connor's and kara's three. markus also has the unique characteristic of having his wall only show one set of words that he strikes repeatedly- kara, like connor, has three copies of the command spread throughout her wall. the main significant difference in how they break their walls is simply execution- markus strikes it, kara pushes the whole thing until it gives from the pressure, and connor specifically targets the most important parts of the wall: the actual commands. connor's wall is not special or unique- if anything, that honor would go to markus, and i doubt it was intentionally done to emphasize some uniqueness in him.

of course, though, you're not wrong that connor definitely does have unique circumstances in regards to deviancy. that's probably why his deviation felt so underwhelming to many, including me. the point of his deviation was meant to be that he's no longer all fucked in the head and not wanting to do it, but it feels like he hasn't reached that point yet and thusly it doesn't feel earned- like all he needed was a few words from markus and he just threw his whole ideology away. discussing that would be a whole extra essay tho lol- short version, my guess is they sacrificed some character-driven writing for the sake of managing multiple endings.

ofc, main point, i can totally see the red walls being just player stuff/metaphor, considering they... continue to exist post-deviation. like ok lol i thought my guys were supposed to be free now but nah xD could be just how androids visualize things, could be player stuff. but like you said, the real answer is probably "they didn't think about it", so... yeah, let's have fun brainstorming instead

I mean, what's the point in three walls instead of one if he's still able to break all of them on his own in what is probably less than a few seconds?

[ablazenqueen]

God idek if this is gonna be coherent but especially after watching reawakening, all I have on my head is a DBH/Not me fusion - do not ask me how it works or what happens but like the potential???? Black and white as nines and Connor ??? Especially with Nines’ line in reawakening about how Connor chose to defy Amanda/become defiant whereas he was forcibly awoken vs black and whites different ways of approaching the need to revolt idk I just needed to spit this out and you’re the only one on my dash with the overlap of these two 😂

Oh, this is really clever! The more I think about it, the more parallels and possibilities I see!

Black and White being identical because they’re androids from the same model line, distinguishable only by their vastly different personalities and their model numbers. (Ironically they’d be reversed in position vs personality with Black as Connor being White’s predecessor and the “older twin” but also the cold and aloof one, while White is the youngest and Black’s intended replacement *cough* who only actually replaces him in The Bad Ending *cough* but also the peppier, sweeter, gentler sibling.)

That would probably make their mom Black’s Amanda and their dad White’s Amanda, since those are the authority figures that they each respectively break free from in order to gain their independence and free will. But it’s also perfect because Black would fight tooth and nail to break free from his program (like Connor did) while While would’ve just been presented an easy opportunity by external forces (like Nines).

Another possible scenario would be the Garage gang as the Jericho gang. I like to imagine the only difference is that Markus didn’t get the memo about being discreet and adopted literally All Of The Androids. Does that make Gumpa Markus? Alternatively Black rising from getting half beaten to death and getting vengeance, or White joining a pre-established social activism group but making it stronger and building up its number of supporters could be Markus? But functionally, Black and White would be North (the fighter) and Josh (the peacekeeper). Oh gosh, soooo many options, so much potential!

Wait, okay, and this would work so well for Danyok too! That final scene of Connor struggling against his programming and almost being forced to shoot Markus to stop the revolution? That would work perfectly for Dan! Picture him being a police android, going deviant, joining the gang, and then having his program reactivated. Maybe it was in his program to infiltrate them to begin with and he only breaks his program after arresting them OR he’s been placed under careful watch after androids everywhere have been acting up and when he turns deviant, they take him in and “fix” his programming? Either way, he breaks free of his programming partway through the arrest and helps rescue the gang and all is well with the world.

I’m in love with this AU idea! If you or anyone else wants to write this, just know you’ll have at least one loyal reader! (And if you don’t wanna write it… might I offer to do so?)