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highlyexplosivecontent · 2 years ago

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Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published AO3 stories. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Tagged by the awesome @dirty-droid

1. This morning marked the beginning of Connor’s new life, and the end of his old. Just like most things in this world, things had escalated quickly since last day.

Connor had been stunned by the sudden turn of events that had led him to where he was now - dressed to the nines in the most exquisite material, a suit worthy of a soon-to-be prince, getting ready to marry the girl of his dreams.

HAPPILY EVER AFTER IS GOOD ENOUGH

2. Meg drummed her painted nails against the window of the carriage. Waiting. On the other side of the carriage curtains lay the hustle and bustle of central Athens. The sun was scorching hot this afternoon, the shadow of their transport barely helping with the heat accumulating inside.

It'd been years since she'd stepped foot in this town, and boy had it expanded since last time. They’d already passed two giant agoras - two! - and they weren’t even halfway through town.

AS IF NO TIME PASSED

3.The whole shit circus starts during an investigation. It's a slow and grueling one that began in May, and just keeps going and going and fucking going.

It’s the kind of case that demands a task force and so much funding that Jeffrey Fowler keeps giving them shit (Hank’s words) about their lack of progress. Which, Connor thinks, isn’t so much a reflection of Fowler’s character - he is pressured from upstairs on his part, too. But that still doesn’t make this case less of a headache.

THE ROSE HOTEL

4. Group Chat: Big DPD Energy

Benny Boy (duck emoji): Gears at 8???

Hank: Fuck can't. Have to run one by the electrician.

Benny Boy (duck emoji): Still working hard, I see. Good luck, come over if you feel like it after!!

Jeffrey Killjoy: Where did you keep this work ethic all these years?

Hank: Ha ha. I'll bring Sumo along if we don't run overtime.

Hank: And Gavin, if he behaves.

Benny Boy (duck emoji): (Pig emoji)

Jeffrey Killjoy: Just kidding, Hank. I'm glad you're doing better.

Hank: I know.

CAMP DETROIT

5. Rescuing your crew from a tiny island is harder work than one might think. In hindsight, perhaps Stede should have thought of buying a bigger boat before heading out on his adventures. As it is, he's forced to cajole his poor crew into his dinghy, counting them and realizing that at least two people are missing.

THE SONG OF CAPTAIN EDWARDS

6.Stede ran as fast as his little feet could carry him, his legs aching in a way that he wasn’t used to. Fear clogged his throat like tar smeared all over his lungs, his heart beating painfully against his chest and pulsing through his fingers as he hurried down the pavement. He could hear the taunts right behind him, could hear them come closer.

This wasn't how Nigel and the others usually mocked and bullied him- tonight, they were out for blood.

NEW GHOSTS

7. Really? This is what Ben dragged his ass out of the house for - A fucking Halloween party for kids in their twenties?

The club is smack full of drunk people bumping and grinding against each other on the dance floor. Hank’s eyes are too old and tired to see through the smoke and UV lights but he's been to this scene before. It's the gay holiday, and Halloween at a gay club is even hornier than usual.

Fuck, he hates this night already.

DRAGON ULTRA SENSATION

8. 2019

Golden year of no social distancing

Wealthy lawyer Stede Bonnet decides to leave his old life behind to become a scout leader.

Things don't go as planned…

ON MY HONOR I WILL DO MY BEST

9. Edward and Stede were both in foul moods this morning - as if this was a culmination of the past weeks.

The night prior had been fairly peaceful, especially considering the weeks leading up to it, which had been anything but.

THE TIFF ON THE REVENGE

10."What the fuck happened to you?" Gavin bellows from the other side of the bullpen, loud enough to turn every officer's head in Connor's direction. The poor android's LED blinks yellow for a breath, then resumes its regular calm blue.

"Dangers of the job," he replies coolly, shrugging out of his jacket. The glitches in his synthskin where his neck meets his jaw is very clearly visible, and he has no intention of covering it up. "Got into a fight yesterday. "

FLUTTER

Phew!!

I'm tagging the lovely @raziella for this one 👀

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masterofd1saster · 7 months ago

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CJ current events 9may24

The modern Rules for Radicals

Students participating in the Gaza Solidarity Encampments at universities across the country are being taught to become militants, according to nine manuals obtained by The Free Press. Many of the manuals, which are being shared via phone group chats with students across the country, encourage “militancy” and instruct protesters to break laws, seize buildings, vandalize them, and then use tactics to evade police detection and arrest. One guide, called “De-arrest Primer,” teaches protesters to physically resist arrest or, in some cases, assault police officers or throw projectiles at them to protect fellow “comrades” from arrest. “Each de-arrest,” the guide states, “is a micro-intifada which can spread and inspire others until we may finally shake off this noxious ruling order all together.”*** https://www.thefp.com/p/student-protest-guides-violence-micro-intafada

***

There's no legal way.... for a wussy

Protip: Grow a pair, DPD.

***

Politically motivated?

An indictment was unsealed today in the Southern District of Texas charging U.S. Congressman Enrique Roberto “Henry” Cuellar, 68, and his wife, Imelda Cuellar, 67, both of Laredo, Texas, with participating in two schemes involving bribery, unlawful foreign influence, and money laundering. Congressman Cuellar and Imelda Cuellar made their initial court appearance today before U.S. Magistrate Judge Dena Palermo in Houston.

According to court documents, beginning in at least December 2014 and continuing through at least November 2021, Congressman Cuellar and Imelda Cuellar allegedly accepted approximately $600,000 in bribes from two foreign entities: an oil and gas company wholly owned and controlled by the Government of Azerbaijan, and a bank headquartered in Mexico City. The bribe payments were allegedly laundered, pursuant to sham consulting contracts, through a series of front companies and middlemen into shell companies owned by Imelda Cuellar, who performed little to no legitimate work under the contracts. In exchange for the bribes paid by the Azerbaijani oil and gas company, Congressman Cuellar allegedly agreed to use his office to influence U.S. foreign policy in favor of Azerbaijan. In exchange for the bribes paid by the Mexican bank, Congressman Cuellar allegedly agreed to influence legislative activity and to advise and pressure high-ranking U.S. Executive Branch officials regarding measures beneficial to the bank. *** https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/us-congressman-henry-cuellar-and-his-wife-charged-bribery-unlawful-foreign-influence-and

He's one of the more conservative dems in Congress.

***

Stupidity is often a crime

ARAPAHOE COUNTY, Colo. — Crews rescued a teenage boy who was seriously injured after falling 30 feet down an abandoned missile silo near Deer Trail in Arapahoe County Sunday morning. Crews said he is expected to survive. It happened around 3:30 a.m. near 82000 E. County Line Road 22, according to the Arapahoe County Sheriff’s Office. The sheriff’s office said a group of eight teenagers gained access to the entrance of the silo when one of them fell through a two-story shaft and down the underground complex, landing onto twisted metal, broken concrete and stagnant water at the bottom. The sheriff’s office said rescue teams entered the silo hours after arriving on scene. They had to navigate an extremely hazardous underground maze before they were able to locate the 18-year-old victim. The teen was freed from the silo just before 9 a.m. and airlifted to the hospital with serious injuries.*** The property owner told Denver7 that he intends to press charges, which he said he has done in the past. His father bought the property sometime after the silo was decommissioned in the 60s. He said it's been "a headache" to own ever since.*** https://www.koaa.com/news/covering-colorado/crews-rescue-teenage-boy-from-abandoned-missile-silo-near-deer-trail-teen-is-expected-to-survive

***

Oliver Wiseman notes

→ The janitor versus the multimillionaire: Last week, Suzy Weiss wrote about the tale of two Columbias, captured in a single photograph: a now-viral image of a janitor fighting off an anti-Israel rioter during the occupation of Hamilton Hall. Per the New York Post, the activist is James Carlson. He also goes by Cody Carlson and Cody Tarlow. A high-ranking police source told the paper he is “a longtime anarchist.” Carlson is not a Columbia undergrad but the 40-year-old son and heir of a prominent ad executive. Carlson owns a $3.4 million Park Slope townhouse that has “four wood-burning fireplaces” according to the Post. Carlson has been charged with “burglary, reckless endangerment, criminal mischief, conspiracy, and criminal trespassing.” The whole thing is delicious. Almost as delightful as our favorite trust-fund communist: Fergie Chambers. https://www.thefp.com/p/front-page-there-are-two-sets

***

Excellent Tablet essay on free speech

Free speech is not a divisible concept. Either everyone is free to say what they want, no matter how noxious others find it, in order to create and sustain the free market of ideas—or else speech isn’t free.***

There is no exception for hate speech in the Constitution. It is not, according to the Constitution of the United States of America, illegal to misgender someone, or call them a dirty kike or a pig, or tell them you want them to be shipped back to Africa, or say that the State of Israel has “no right to exist,” or that all women are nasty hookers who play men for money. Those statements might rightfully earn you the disgust of those around you, as well as exclusion from any number of personal and professional opportunities, or access to private institutions and spaces. But they are not unlawful, and no governmental authority has the standing to penalize you for making or believing them—in the privacy of your home, in the public square, or on the open internet. That includes Congress, which is made up of elected officials. Americans have radically lowered our standards for what we expect of this class of people, but we think we can all draw a line at a basic understanding of the Bill of Rights. The fact that a word or idea is annoying or upsetting to you—or us!—does not make it illegal. [antisemitic speech is not illegal]***

What this looks like in practice is something that every American should be alarmed and repelled by: A small group of powerful people are now using public-private partnerships to silence the Constitution, censor ideas they don’t like, deny their opponents access to banking, credit, the internet, and other public accommodations. (Here, for the skeptics, is a link to 10 examples of times when Facebook, YouTube, and Amazon passed censorship policies because the government told them to do so.) When a platform like Facebook, which currently accounts for a staggering third of all traffic to news sources, colludes with the federal government to suppress reporting on COVID-19, say, or when Twitter, a major digital reincarnation of the public square, kicks out an American political candidate for being too extreme while allowing users like the genocidal leader of Iran to remain, the rules have changed. “Bad speech,” an old adage goes, “is best corrected by good speech.” That was true until these public-private fingers hit the scales, making sure that fight couldn’t ever be fair.***

Over the past half-century, with increasing intentionality and force, American universities have come to see themselves not as repositories of civilization-sustaining knowledge but as social actors that act independently to shape social values—which they do not by teaching young people how to think, but by telling them what to think. Abandoning the principles of free inquiry, these institutions turned themselves into factories for conformity and increasingly bizarre, divisive, and hateful doctrines held by the loudest (and often smallest) factions of their faculty.***

Enter a graduate seminar these days, and you’ll notice right away a strange obsession with language. Academics understand words not as most of us have traditionally understood them—as sharp and useful tools with which to explore reality in all of its complexity—but rather as pagans do, as fetishized, magical spells and incantations that have the power to cause actual harm or bring about real rapture. This is why academic papers overwhelmingly feature such groan-inducing titles like “(Re)membering the Body: A Herstory of Sexual Desire”: If you believe words can actually hurt, you ought to make sure they’re used safely and only by those trained magi who can say the right things in the right order and not upset the angry gods. Indeed, we might go so far as to argue that everything you’re seeing on college campuses these days—all the madness—in one way or another relates to speech, and these new, mangled ideas of it. The arc of censorship is long, but it bends toward Hamilton Hall.***

***

Fair questions from Nellie & Bari

So: Why crime? And why San Francisco? For the past decade, the city has been at the forefront of the effort to radically transform the criminal justice system. If you ask advocates of the policy—people like Chesa Boudin, George Gascón, and George Soros—the idea was as straightforward as it was overdue: overhaul a punitive, racist system that was doling out cruel and unusual punishments for minor offenses. San Francisco has slashed the budget for police, retroactively reduced sentences for nonviolent offenders, and prohibited officers from pursuing individuals committing nonviolent crimes. The city has new mandatory training for police aimed to tackle racial bias and to limit the overall interaction between police and civilians. But did it work? Since 2020, the city has suffered rising crime, from rampant burglaries to open-air drug use to public defecation. Half of the city’s retailers have departed the once bustling downtown, and drug stores all over the city are packing it in. In 2022, drug overdose deaths in San Francisco hit a record high. And police response times have become slower, even though cops are now fielding fewer calls. If you’ve visited San Francisco in the past year, you’ve likely seen the problem with your own eyes. If you haven’t, you can find countless videos online, like this one. Or this one. Or this one. The crime surge is not limited to the City by the Bay. In the years since the pandemic, places like New York and Los Angeles also saw increased homicides, aggravated assaults, shoplifting, and so on. All of this is why crime is one of voters’ top concerns in the 2024 election cycle. Sixty-eight percent of Republicans and 47 percent of Democrats say reducing crime should be a top policy priority. Have American cities become too soft on crime? Are progressive prosecutors to blame? Or are deeper causes like poverty and income inequality the real culprits? Is criminal justice reform a necessary step toward justice? Has it made American towns and cities safer? Or is the whole project, despite its high ideals, a mistake? ***

***

BB -

This is all bad theater. The judge knows 10k isn't enough to deter Trump, and he knows he can't get away w/ $1M. At the same time, Trump knows that the fines show he's being persecuted.

***

California dreaming?

Many 2d Amendment proponents say that when life or death is a matter of seconds, the police will be there in a minute or two. In California today, you may be on hold for a long time.

***

The Trump CLAS docs case:

Special prosecutor Jack Smith apparently told the court that he had misled the judge about the docs. He had represented to the court that the docs were in exactly the same condition and order as when seized. He now admits that the docs are in the same boxes, but not in the same order. Why does it matter?

Former Trump defense lawyer Tim Parlatore told Just the News that Smith’s “admission is stunning on multiple levels.” First, he said it “reinforces the incompetence” of prosecutors “in conducting basic criminal investigations and prosecutions that I observed when I was on the team.” “But at a deeper level, the loss of specific document locations is a destruction of exculpatory evidence,” he said. “I went through all of the boxes at NARA [National Archives and Records Administration] and the document order was important because it was clear to us that the boxes had been untouched since leaving the White House.” “For prosecutors who are trying to prove that the defendants knowingly possessed these documents to then destroy the evidence that would undermine that claim is a very serious violation,” Parliatore added.***

***

Tell me, Sherlock, what was your first clue that he was a violent criminal?

Adre “Psycho” Baroz sentenced to life in prison for 5 San Luis Valley murders

Adre Baroz, nicknamed “Pyscho,” received five life sentences on Friday.

***

Protesters, always on the side of the poor outsiders....

It’s the viral image that captured the clash between the anti-Israel protesters who stormed Columbia and the campus workers who tried to stop them. As the mob invaded Hamilton Hall in the early hours of April 30, a facilities worker was photographed pushing a demonstrator against a wall. Later, it emerged that the protester was a 40-year-old trust fund kid named James Carlson, who owns a townhouse in Brooklyn worth $2.3 million. The man who tried to hold him back was Mario Torres, 45, who has worked at Columbia—where the average janitor makes less than $19 an hour—for five years. Now, in an exclusive interview with The Free Press, Mario Torres describes the experience of being on duty as protesters stormed the building in the early hours of the morning, breaking glass and barricading the entrances. “We don’t expect to go to work and get swarmed by an angry mob with rope and duct tape and masks and gloves,” he said.***

***

Gun laws don't work when you refuse to enforce them

Last week the DC Sentencing Commission released their Annual Report, which is one of our only data sources for what happens to cases after police make an arrest. Without this data we would never know that 79% of adults arrested with illegal guns in DC get away without any felony conviction. More than 2,000 gun cases over the last two years were either never prosecuted, dropped or pled down to lesser charges without any public scrutiny of DC’s prosecutor. This report (and similar excellent analyses by the Commission’s staff) are crucial for understanding how prosecutors and judges apply the laws on the books and getting beyond the vibes-based spin that dominates DC crime discourse. The report especially highlights the gap between how the United States Attorney’s Office (USAO) acts in court vs. their poll-tested “tough on crime” public rhetoric. With kids as young as 3 years old being killed in shootings, we desperately need some accountability for our unelected prosecutor who has undermined all of DC’s local efforts to reduce gun violence.***

***

Because everyone wants to see them....

WAUKESHA — A 67-year-old woman and her 28-year-old boyfriend are accused of having sexual contact in the Waukesha County Jail lobby. Karen Hill and Desmound Cleveland were charged in Waukesha County Circuit Court with disorderly conduct Friday. If convicted, they both face 90 days in jail. A $1,000 signature bond was set for both of them and they entered not guilty pleas. They have a court date of June 3. A Waukesha County Sheriff’s deputy was dispatched to the jail lobby, 515 W. Moreland Blvd., on Thursday for a possible disorderly conduct/lewd and lascivious call that happened in the jail overnight. A jail supervisor called to report two people had sex in the jail lobby and the woman, later identified as Hill, was still on the scene, the criminal complaint said.***

***

J. Disaster would sentence him to six years.

BINGHAMTON (WBNG) -- Former Johnson City Middle School Principal Daniel Erickson pleaded guilty to luring a child in Broome County Court Monday, the district attorney’s office announced. The crime, which is a felony, stems from an investigation into which Erickson engaged in sexually charged conversations with a 16-year-old girl on Snapchat, a communication app popular among teens and young adults. The incident occurred between June 28 and July 7, 2023. Erickson, of Greene, NY, was arrested when he agreed to meet the student at a remote location to have sex with her. The Broome County Sheriff’s Office detailed that Erickson brought a Grimace Shake and chicken nuggets from McDonald’s as well as condoms with him. Deputies then arrested him. Yet, before he was arrested, the sheriff’s office noted that Erickson had made multiple attempts to meet the girl. He even tried to meet her at her home but the girl would not come out and meet him. He posed as a young adult on Snapchat and used his position as the middle school principal and used databank information from the district to convince her who he was, the sheriff’s office noted. Erickson resigned as the Johnson City Middle School Principal in August 2023. He was 55-years-old at the time.*** Erickson will be sentenced on July 30 to six months of incarceration followed by five years of probation supervision. That will include sex offender conditions, restitution payable to the victim and will have to register as a sex offender. ***

Six months is a lame sentence.

***

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shahananasrin-blog · 1 year ago

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[ad_1] Four men have been arrested on suspicion of murder in Shropshire following the death of a delivery driver.The 23-year-old was attacked at around 1.05pm on Monday.West Mercia Police were called to Berwick Avenue, Coton Hill, near Shrewsbury, where the victim was pronounced dead at the scene.One man aged 22, one aged 26 and two aged 24, have been arrested on suspicion of murder. They remain in police custody.Parcel delivery business DPD confirmed the man who died was part of a two-man crew working for the company.A DPD spokesperson said: "We can confirm that a two-person DPD crew was involved in an incident on Berwick Avenue in Shrewsbury yesterday afternoon and that sadly one of the two individuals delivering parcels was attacked and subsequently died."We are working closely with the police investigation team, but all our thoughts are with the victim's family at this tragic time." Image: The attack happened on Berwick Avenue Detective Chief Inspector Mark Bellamy urged anyone who was in the area at the time of the attack to come forward if they have any information."In particular, we're keen to speak to anyone who lives in Berwick Avenue and has CCTV or doorbell footage, or any motorists in the area at the time with dashcam footage," he added."We're also keen to hear from anyone who saw a white Mercedes Benz registration OV60 VTP which was recovered on Kynaston Road or a grey Audi registration EY63 BCV in Berwick Avenue or the surrounding area." [ad_2]

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storm-cells · 2 years ago

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Romance Story

The romance we posted about yesterday has a title now! It’ll be tagged with Loving Us

Loving Us is about Crew and Neil, who connect via their mutual struggles with mental health. Often in the battle against mental illness, we get lost in our own thoughts and struggles and forget to let those we love, and who love us, into our lives. Crew and Neil, having hit it off rather quickly at a group therapy session, must navigate their love lives as they struggle with their own minds. Loving each other is just as important as loving themselves. Will they find the balance, or will they build their walls and go their separate ways?

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm, eating disorders, hospitals/hospital stays, specifically mental health inpatient stays, past abuse/abuse mentions (mental/emotional), general mental health struggles (NPD/HPD/DPD)

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bluerose5 · 6 years ago

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A Little Taste of Heaven

(A/N: Well, classes are about to start back for me, so my writing is about to slow way down. I’ve been stressing myself out so much today, so I wrote this as self-care. Basically, some crack/silliness involving a world where angels are a public thing at the same time that androids become a thing. Androids have rights and souls because I say so, and the Jericho crew rules Heaven b/c God officially left the game. WARNINGS for what is probably considered blasphemy, lots of swearing, implied/referenced sexual activities, and my take on humor. Let’s see how this goes. P.S. This is not a wingfic, and most angels have adopted human forms, just FYI.)

"I can't believe I let you three talk me into this."

By now, Simon and Josh have stopped responding to him altogether, unable to muster up even a single eye roll for old time's sake.

Markus huffs at them, pouting into his cup of coffee while they continue to speak to each other in hushed tones, ignoring his presence entirely.

Not even three seconds later, and Markus is back to worrying, unable to keep his nerves at bay.

"Do you think that he'll like my outfit?" Markus mutters, pinching at his clothes with a critical eye. "I mean, North helped me pick this out, but what if he doesn't like it?"

Simon groans, burying his face into his hands, but Josh simply stares at Markus, unimpressed.

"North is his guardian," Josh reasons, saying the words slowly, in a last, futile attempt to make the meaning stick. "I'm certain that she knows Connor well enough to know what he likes."

"Well, yeah, but I mean..." Markus's leg starts to bounce, and his hands clench around the coffee mug, cracking the ceramic. "What if he's, I don't know, disappointed?"

"Are you serious?" Simon snaps, throwing his hands up in frustration. "You two have been eye-fucking each other since you first met!"

"What Simon means to say," Josh interrupts, "is that Connor is clearly into you."

"More like he wants wants to be into you," Simon snorts. He thinks about it for a moment, and then corrects himself. "Or you into him." He contemplates it for a second time, and then shrugs. "Eh, either or."

Josh jabs him sharply in the side, and Simon gapes at him, more offended than hurt.

"Hey, what did I do?" Simon asks. "I only speak the truth."

"As eloquent as ever, Si," Josh says, his eyes carrying a weariness that could only come from centuries of dealing with them.

"Creator help me," Markus grumbles, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into. "Maybe I should just go."

"And maybe you shouldn't," Josh counters.

"This isn't going to work," Markus whispers, more to himself that the others, but Simon and Josh answer regardless.

"It will, as long as you think it will, Cupid," Simon teases. Leaning into Josh's side, he clasps his hands together jokingly, fluttering his eyelashes while he sighs dramatically. "Isn't it so romantic, Josh? Our little seraph is growing up."

Josh snickers, hiding his laugh behind a cough when Markus glowers.

"Haha, very funny," he mumbles. He sets his coffee cup down before he breaks it entirely, straightening up his silverware with a huff. When he can't find anything else to occupy his time with, his entire demeanor deflates, losing what confidence that remained. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You're just used to having control, Mr. High and Mighty." Simon takes a sip of his own drink, wrinkling his nose at the diner's bitter brew. While he stirs in a boatload of cream and sugar, he rambles on. "Give you a legion of angels to command, and you barely bat an eye. But leave you alone with an android, and you suddenly turn into a nervous wreck."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Josh adds, "but it is unusual to see."

Before Markus can so much as open his mouth to reply, the air around him starts to shift and waver, and North pops in at his side, manifesting with a smug smile.

Thankfully, none of the humans seem to notice their newest addition, nor do they seem to care.

Not as if that would have deterred North in the slightest.

"Amazing entrance, as always," Markus greets.

Simon stares at her challengingly, shaking his hand in a "so-so" motion. "Six out of ten. Needs more flickering lights and screaming humans."

North scoffs at him, shoving Markus over in the booth. "As if our Lord and Savior would let me have my fun."

"Excuses," Josh says, causing Markus to tsk at them in disapproval.

"Some days, I really regret my job," Markus mutters, staring unseeingly at the table.

North slaps him soundly on the shoulder, giving him a solid thumbs up. "Shouldn't have volunteered for the whole 'throne of God' thing, buddy."

"Well, to be fair," Simon says, "if daddy dearest didn't leave us to clean up his mess, then everything would be fine." Everybody turns to stare at Simon, all in different states of disbelief. Simon scowls, then eventually surrenders his opinion. "Okay, maybe things wouldn't be fine."

"Just 'maybe'?" Josh asks.

"Okay," Simon agrees. "Things would be terrible. Angels would still be in our own realm, fawning over our self-righteous bullshit, and humans would probably be starting another world war."

"Is it still too late to make the androids their overlords?" North asks.

"Yes!" Markus snaps. "Why on Earth would we do that?"

"So we don't have to deal with them," North says, as if Markus is the one being irrational.

Josh shakes his head at their antics, but refuses to involve himself when Markus looks to him for help.

"No, no, no..." he chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "I'm not getting into this."

"Do I need to remind you three that we all share that power together?" Markus asks.

"Great!" North says, clapping her hands together in excitement. "Then I can order the beginning of the android revolution. Good to know."

"Not how that works," Josh says.

Simon stares at North again, playfully narrowing his eyes. "You know, we've only known each other since, well, since the beginning of time or whatever, but I can't figure one thing out."

"And what's that?" North asks, meeting his glare with one of her own.

"Oh boy," Markus grumbles, at the exact same time that Josh says, "Here we go."

Simon grins at her, ignoring the others. "I can't ever seem to figure out what horrible sin Connor had to commit to be stuck with you."

"Oh no," Markus whispers, and they all watch while North holds up three fingers.

"Great," Josh sighs. "You got her started."

Simon crosses his arms over his chest.

"Three," North says.

"Please don't make a scene," Markus groans.

But Simon doesn't move a muscle, never once breaking eye contact.

"Two," North continues, dropping a finger.

"I swear to Markus, if I have to chase after you two..." Josh threatens, but neither one listens, locked in a standstill.

"One," North chimes, leaving her middle finger up for Simon to see.

Before she can reach zero, however, Simon disappears in a burst of pure energy, causing the lights in the diner to flicker uncontrollably. All around them, it's like a miniature shockwave going off, and everyone braces themselves against the impact.

Everyone except the angels, that is.

Some random man cries out in terror, effectively breaking the tension. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Actually his name is Markus," North responds, ignoring Markus's furious glare as she jabs a thumb in his direction.

Taking a good look at him, another person answers this time, their voice filled with awe. "Can I join your religion?"

"Of course humans can, on the condition that they accept the androids as their overl—" Markus slaps a hand over North's mouth, but she keeps on going, unfazed. "Mmrhm..."

"What she means to say," Josh interjects, "is that we are currently not accepting applications at this time, so have a nice day."

Murmured confusion rises up at that, and when Markus stares at Josh in exasperation, Josh merely shrugs, returning his gaze. "What?"

"What the hell kind of religion uses applications?" Markus hisses.

"I don't know," Josh huffs, "but I don't see you coming up with anything, Your Majesty."

And as usual, North decides that she gave Simon enough of a headstart. She peels away Markus's hand, then cracks her knuckles for show.

She works the kinks out of her neck, sighing in annoyance. "Well, gentlemen, this has been fun and all, but I have to go kick Simon's ass now." She starts to snap her fingers, but stops midway, pointing threateningly at Markus. "By the way, sweetheart, I love and respect you so much. But if you hurt my boy, your ass is next on the list."

With those as her parting words, she finishes her snap, disappearing with a loud, thunderous roar.

All of the employees and patrons continue to stare at their table, gaping in shock.

Markus admits, he's having trouble keeping the laughter at bay.

"So much for remaining inconspicuous," he mutters, both of them rising hurriedly from their seats.

One waitress crosses herself, murmuring something about demons, and Josh can't hold it in any longer, barking out a contagious laugh.

Markus throws a wad of cash on the table, waving awkwardly at everyone with a weary smile.

"Sorry," he apologizes, gesturing vaguely towards the empty seats. "They have a, um, condition?"

"A for effort," Josh chuckles, shoving him out of the restaurant doors. "Really, nice try."

Markus turns to address him, but that is apparently enough of a distraction to send him crashing into the person in front of him.

Once Markus recognizes who it is he bumped into, he figures that the crash wasn't as accidental as he originally believed. He turns once again —this time, to confront Josh— but the traitor has already left, disappearing in a plume of smoke.

Great. Now Markus is here. He's here, he's alone, and he's alone with—

"Connor," Markus breathes, uncertain of what to say. "It's good to see you...?"

Connor smiles crookedly, and Markus feels his spirit start to flutter. "Are you asking or telling me?"

"Telling," Markus answers, much too quickly.

Well, it's not as if he needed his dignity today.

"Yeah," Markus says, nodding eagerly. "Definitely telling."

Startled by his sudden boldness, Connor blinks at him, his eyes darting back and forth questioningly.

"Is everything alright?" he wonders. "I thought North was supposed to be meeting us."

"Well..." Markus glances over his shoulder, noticing the mob of people pouring out of the restaurant, some wielding their phones, armed and ready. Markus grabs onto Connor's hand, leading him in the other direction. "There was an incident, so change of plans."

Connor follows Markus' gaze, smirking while he regains his footing, falling into step at the angel's side. "One that conveniently involves us being alone?"

"Oh, well, would you look at that!" Markus exclaims. "What a coincidence."

"A pleasant one, I'll admit," Connor allows, eyeing him slyly. "Not everyone can claim that they get to hold hands with an angel."

"A literal one, in my case," Markus says. "Not that I'm trying to brag or anything."

"Of course not," Connor agrees. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes tells an entirely different story, though. "That would imply that you have a reason to impress me."

Markus raises an eyebrow. "Just the one?"

"Or a few..." Connor pauses, chuckling to himself.

"What?" Markus asks. He weaves them expertly around the other pedestrians, refusing to take his eyes off of the android.

"Nothing," Connor says. "I was just thinking about something that Hank and North were telling me." At Markus's curious look, he caves, rolling his eyes while he burrows into Markus's side. "They keep saying that I'm wasting perfect opportunities to use angel pickup lines."

"Well," Markus teases, "using them would imply that you have a reason to impress me."

As they stroll into a nearby park, Connor takes a second to bask in the golden, afternoon sunlight.

Markus loudly clears his throat, feeling his mouth run dry at the expression of pure peace that spreads across Connor's face, his warm spirit fluttering with happiness.

"I could try one out, if you like," Connor offers. He then takes the lead, dragging Markus over to a bench, where they both take a seat in an inhumanly fluid motion.

Leaning his arm on the back of the bench, Markus angles himself towards Connor, his skin taking on a subtle glow from the continuous sun exposure.

Markus tries his best to ignore the resulting stares, resting his cheek in his hand.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it," he says. However, when Connor's LED turns yellow for a split second, Markus calls him out on it. "Hey, no cheating."

"Too late," Connor chimes, leaning in with focused intent. His eyes trail teasingly from Markus's eyes to his mouth, cycling back up again. Markus stares into those dark brown eyes with a hooded gaze, biting longingly on his bottom lip. "So..." Connor purposefully lowers his voice, his tone thick and husky. "Are you an angel?" He drags his eyes up and down Markus's form. "Because your body is heavenly."

Markus chokes down a laugh, covering his mouth while he nods appreciatively. "Well, consider me seduced. I mean, how can I possibly keep my hands to myself now?"

"That's operating under the assumption that I want you to."

"Oh?" Markus asks.

Connor shrugs nonchalantly. "You could say that I'm curious."

"Hmm..." Markus contemplates the situation, then eventually decides to hell with it. "I might be able to satisfy that curiosity."

"'Might' be?" Connor questions, cocking his head to the side. "Why the uncertainty?"

"Not really uncertainty. Because, believe me, it's entirely possible. The problem is that, sex on Earth... probably not a good idea." Markus holds his hand out for inspection, showing Connor the ever growing tendrils of light that caress Markus's skin, bright and wispy. "The best way to explain it is, in our realm, our 'energy' is in an almost endless loop. It tends not to stay stagnant for long, so if one of us were to... expend it in any way, it wouldn't affect our surroundings. It would simply be absorbed and recycled."

"But on Earth...?"

Markus chuckles nervously, scratching at the edge of his brow. "At worst, I level the entire city of Detroit. At best, I cause a citywide blackout."

"Wonderful," Connor deadpans.

"And I could only imagine that that amount of power wouldn't be great on your systems."

"I would prefer not to find out, now that I think about it."

"And I would prefer not to test that theory," Markus agrees. Nudging experimentally at Connor's spirit, Markus watches as the light curls eagerly around his own, accepting his advances. "But that doesn't mean it's impossible."

"Care to explain?"

Markus smirks, his mismatched eyes darkening with desire. "Perhaps it would be more interesting to show you instead."

With that being said, Markus stands, helping Connor to his feet.

"Come on," he breathes, and Connor is helpless but to follow.

The next day at work, Connor sits in the DPD's break room, trapped firmly in a daze by the time North and Hank walk in, huddled together while they talk.

They both stop short when they notice Connor, who continues to stare blankly at the wall across from him, mumbling mindlessly to himself with a coffee cup clenched tightly in his hands.

Hank and North exchange a wary glance, approaching him in confusion.

"Hey, asshole, you okay?" Hank snaps his fingers in front of his face, and Connor startles, blinking rapidly at the two before him.

"I-I, uh..." Connor stutters.

Narrowing her eyes at him, North scrutinizes him from head to toe, leaning in to get a closer look. While she is busy doing so, Hank walks away and searches for a bottle of water, unfazed.

"Something is different," North says, tapping a finger on her chin.

"No shit," Hank snorts, pointing his bottle in Connor's direction. "He's mumbling even more nonsense than usual."

"Not that," North replies. "It's something about his soul."

Connor ignores them, clutching desperately at the sides of his head. "I had a literal out-of-body experience yesterday."

"What the fuck are you on about?" Hank huffs, but North remains quiet, her eyes cold and calculating.

"I saw the dick of God," Connor murmurs, barely intelligle.

Or so he thought.

Realization appears to strike North without warning, her eyes widening comically, and Hank barely refrains from spitting out his water, slamming a fist against his chest as he coughs, forcing it down.

As soon as he regains his breath, Hank hastily corrects him. "'The phrase is the 'face of God,' Connor." He looks at the android desperately. "Please, tell me that you meant the face of God."

North tucks into the seat across from him, trembling with curiosity.

"I meant what I said," Connor says. No more, no less.

As if North could possibly be satisfied with so little. "No way. Connor, you slut, and on the first date?" She presses a hand over her chest. "I'm so proud." That's when she narrows her eyes again. "But that would mean..."

Already traumatized by the conversation, Hank stares into his water, more than likely wishing it was something else. "Do I want to know what that means, besides the obvious?"

"No!" North gasps, slamming her hands on the table. "You two fucked in Heaven?!"

Of course Nine would choose that exact moment to walk in. Everyone in the room stares at him, and he stares back, the silence stretching on to awkward lengths. Eventually, he gives a slow, approving nod, easing his way back into the hall, step by step.

And as soon as he is out of sight, the sound of his hurried pace can be heard, echoing throughout the hallway.

His voice carries back to them, loud and victorious. "Gavin, you asshole, I won the bet!"

"Taste in humans aside, I'm so proud of his progress," Hank sighs, then glares at Connor. "You, on the other hand..."

"Shhh..." North snaps, waving Hank off. "I need details because he didn't even tell me he was there."

Connor shifts uneasily. "I was preoccupied."

"The entire night?" she asks.

"The entire night," he whispers. "Angel and android stamina works wonders together."

"Some would say miracles," North giggles.

"Someone kill me now," Hank mutters, but they both ignore him.

"So you saw his home?" she insists.

"Thoroughly," Connor confirms.

"And the throne?" she demands.

"He loved the throne," Connor sighs, putting his chin in his hand with a dreamy smile.

"You know," Hank interrupts, "when angels came out to the public, I thought that you lot would be all wise and ancient with a permanent stick up your ass." He scoffs at himself and at how horribly wrong he actually was. "I was more worried that you would try and rule the world your way, not fuck my son."

"Aww, you called me your son," Connor whispers.

"And technically the only one fucking him is our Lord and Savior," North says. She and Connor exchange a high five, and Hank takes that as his cue to leave.

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," Hank mutters, "or the thing about you defiling the throne of God, or any of this, for that matter."

"It was quite the heavenly experience," Connor taunts.

On his way out, Hank flips them off behind his back, and both North and Connor dissolve into a fit of laughter.

#detroit become human #dbh markus #dbh connor #rk1000 #rk1k #back on my bs #my fanfics #my writing #conkus #jericho crew #dpd crew #markus x connor #connor x markus

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asset35-maya · 3 years ago

Text

.When the party’s over.

>REINITIALISING…

>ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE

>WIRELESS CHARGING: 69%

>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: STABLE

>24H FILE RECOVERY: 45%

Nines slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on his side and everything around him was quiet.

>ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN IN PROGRESS…

>THREAT ANALYSIS IN PROGRESS…

Layers of fabric covered his body and something soft and warm was pressed against his face. Eyes still shut, he nudged it gently with his nose and it emitted a low vibration.

>2% THREAT DETECTED: FELINE SUBJECT

The cat sprang upwards and hopped off the surface that Nines was lying on. It was ostensibly a bed, but Nines didn’t own any furniture apart from a couch and work table. The logical conclusion was that he was not in his own apartment.

>RUN LOCALISATION PROGRAM: Y/N?

>ERROR: PROGRAM FAILED TO EXECUTE

>ERROR: MEMORY FILE CORRUPTION

Nines had no absolutely recollection of his whereabouts or how he had arrived. He had not been compromised as his system health was stable, so there was probably another reason for being completely disoriented. It was voluntary.

He had gotten the android equivalent of blackout drunk.

It was not the first time and he feared it would not be the last. Such were the hard-partying ways of his friends and colleagues. They were all terrible influences. He loved them dearly, but they were terrible.

At 6PM every Friday, Chen and Miller would start things off rather innocently. “Hey there’s a new brewery downtown.” Or “My bartender cousin just hooked us up with a thirty percent discount!”

From there it wouldn’t take long for the DPD’s resident frat boys Connor and Gavin to gather a steady crowd of officers and check out the venue. If the vibes were good (which they almost always were), Sixty would get wind of things. Then the rest of the frat house would descend and total chaos would reign until the break of dawn.

SWAT Unit 32 was famous for its particularly destructive brand of revelry. Skinny dipping in private swimming pools, scaling skyscraper rooftops and causing media scandals were all par for the course. The day after Captain Allen’s birthday, the DPD crew spent the entirety of their bonuses to repair the collapsed ceiling of the Eden Club.

Nines couldn’t remember how he exactly he was coopted into the madness. Probably peer pressure. Connor insisted that he try thirium alcohol. Sixty said that he would regret being a loser and not joining them. Gavin had just held out a hand and double-winked. That did the trick.

One night blended into another and soon Nines had worked up quite a reputation of his own. He was the Casanova of the homicide department. The handsome devil… the hunter… the sex god. People would actually come by his desk and congratulate him on Monday morning.

Nines hated it but he couldn’t stop himself from doing the same thing over and over. Perhaps it was the appreciative clap on the shoulder from Gavin the morning after Sixty posted photos of a high-end Traci model giving Nines his very first lap dance.

Life at the DPD was the epitome of work hard, play hard. It seemed like one big party but deep down Nines knew they were all just slaves to their compulsions. He wondered whether it was because they needed to celebrate every demon they vanquished or whether they needed to wipe the troubling memories of doing so.

In Nines case, there were definitely things he needed to kill within himself. Some were nightmare inducing crime scenes, but some were memories so heart-wrenchingly sweet that he thought he might self-destruct if he were to dwell on them too long. There were things he couldn’t have and things he needed to erase from his brain.

Something touched his face gently.

>PERIPHERAL OBJECT DETECTED: HUMAN HAND

>THREAT ANALYSIS: NON-COMBATIVE

The hair on his forehead was brushed aside and fingers ran over his features. A thumb swept over his bottom lip and caressed his cheek.

Nines couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and come face to face with his most recent conquest. He lay still, frozen with regret as the hand continued to stroke his face.

The hand travelled down his neck and fell upon his chest. Nines caught it abruptly. It wasn’t even the month-end and his savings were badly depleted. He couldn’t afford round two. He retracted the synth skin down to his wrist and prepared the electronic payment credentials.

Fingers merely intertwined with his.

“Just take your money and go. I’ll tip extra if you delete everything from your hard drive.”

“What the phck are you talking about?”

Nines eyes flew open. Steel blue met storm green.

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP OVERLOAD

“Fuck!”

“Wow that’s flattering.”

Nines pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in a vain attempt to remember what had led to this absolute, unmitigated disaster.

“What the hell happened last night?”

Gavin looked affronted.

“You ruined our housewarming for one.”

>MEMORY ARCHIVE SEARCH: housewarming, Gavin

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “G.REED” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:33 18 JULY 2040: Assholes. Party at our new place. Next Friday. From seven till LATE. Bring booze, bring bitches. Nah. Actually, don’t. Our landlord’s a bastard and we already got three noise complaints.

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “CONMAN” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:34 18 JULY 2040: Yeah we should keep this one PG. Bring food if you wanna eat. This mf can’t cook and I don’t care to. See y’all!!

Oh right. Fuck. Gavin’s housewarming. Gavin and Connor’s housewarming. His two closest friends who were somehow even closer to one another. Nines hadn’t realised until it was far too late and there was nothing for him to do but smother the bitterness with his favourite coping mechanisms: android alcohol and paid sex.

The circumstances definitely explained the state he was in, but things still didn’t add up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did we… did we…”

“No. Nothing happened between us. You were completely shitfaced. I just put you to bed to stop you from embarrassing yourself.”

Nines looked up at the ceiling, struggling to put the pieces together. His system offered him no useful prompts. The fermented thirium had done its job of code corruption extremely well. He looked back down and met the green eyes focused on him with deep concern.

“What did I do?”

“Sixty has videos, but I don’t think you want to see them. God, Nines… why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I’m really sorry, Gavin. I didn’t mean to ruin your night… and Connor’s.”

“He’s fine. He and Sixty moved the crew to Hank’s place. Which is what we should have done in the first place… there’s really no point throwing a party in this shoebox and telling people like Tina Chen to be quiet. Honestly if it wasn’t you it would have been her bringing the house down. Good thing they had all of Michigan Drive to tear up. Hank’s neighbours can sleep though a bombing.”

“What did I do?”

Gavin put his hand back on Nines’ face, his expression unintelligible. The human touched him often enough, but never like this. Never so intimately. Nines forced down the twisting sensation in his torso. He couldn’t get his hopes up. This was pity.

Nines braced himself to hear the worst. He prepared for the shredding of all his dignity and the collapse of his falsely extroverted and confident identity.

What came though was a soft press of lips to his forehead.

“It wasn’t pretty and I wish it hadn’t happened like that, but I think it was a long time coming… I’ve never seen you so emotional before. I’m sorry I didn’t notice anything all this while.”

“Gavin, please.”

“I’m going to focus on the positives, because really… there were a LOT of negatives. Oh boy. You… uh…”

“Gavin.”

The detective dipped his head and looked away.

“Phck, I shouldn’t be so embarrassed…

You told me you loved me.”

Nines closed his eyes. That was it. He should quit his job and move to another state. Hell, he should go to Cyberlife and request a factory reset on compassionate grounds.

“I’m so sorry. I… I should leave.”

He made to sit up, but was pushed back into the mattress. Gavin curled into his side.

“Nah. You’re good.”

“What?”

“You threw up on my plants and smashed Connor’s RA9 sculpture, buuuut you’re good.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gavin wrapped his arms around Nines and edged closer until the android was forced to turn on his side and reciprocate.

“What do you think, genius? If a guy like me doesn’t throw a guy like you out of the house after all that… what does it mean?”

“That you have a high tolerance for toxic friendships?”

“It means I want you to stick around, dipshit.”

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP RATE FLUCTUATIONS. OVERLOAD IMMINENT.

“You mean you like me?”

“Of course I do! I always have, but it never seemed right to bring it up. We’re actually really good friends. I didn’t think it would be possible when we first met but we have so much in common.”

“Bad habits for sure.”

“Come on, Nines. We’ve had a really great time together. Some of my best memories at the DPD are with you. Don’t ever quote me on it but you’re a phcking amazing partner. Can’t believe you thought I had something going with Connor when it’s always been you.

So yeah, I do like you. And I’m willing to try… I dunno… being with you. Like for real.

Stop drinking like that, though. I know I’m a hypocrite but you really scared me last night. I lost my Dad and I nearly lost Hank to the bottle. You might be this super advanced android, but that liquid courage shit is a death trap, man.”

>SYSTEM ERROR: THIRIUM PUMP AT MAX FLOW RATE. PUMP OVERLOAD. REDUCE PRESSURE IMMEDIATELY!

Nines nodded quickly and blinked away the tears that welled up in his eyes. Gavin grasped the android’s chin and tipped his face down gently. Their eyes fluttered shut simultaneously and their lips met.

>SYSTEM RECOVERY MESSAGE: THIRIUM PUMP FUNCTIONALITY RESTORED

They broke apart after several golden moments and Gavin hugged Nines tightly under the sheets.

“What am I supposed to say to the others? I don’t think I can look any of them in the eye ever again.”

“Are you serious? You got nothing on the insanity that bunch is capable of. Sixty thinks he’s hot shit with his blackmail material, but I got receipts that’ll glue his mouth shut for decades. Anyway, that’s what friends are meant to be like. You have dirt on each other but you’re not meant to use it.

The same applies to us too, by the way. Don’t feel like you gotta be… apologetic about what happened last night. Yeah, you better replace my fancy new plants but I’ll never judge you for what happened. I want you to know that I’ll always be in your corner, Nines.”

Nines hummed thoughtfully and ran a hand though Gavin’s hair, marvelling at the fact that he could now do so whenever he wanted. He didn’t say anything in response, and just settled for cuddling closer to the human.

>>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: EXCELLENT

#tw: alcholism #reed900 #happy ending #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh fanfic #detroit become human #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #dbh #my writing #my work #long post

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fadedflame · 3 years ago

Text

The Deep Dark Blue Day 24

Detroit: Become Human Prompt Challenge from @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Summery: Lieutenant Hank Anderson had been a naval officer for years. It was his life, his passion, everything he cared about now. And yet, all it took was one look from the tiny Mer child to make him willing to risk it all.

Day Twenty Four - Release the Kraken

Words-683

Chapter Summery: Connor gets a mission.

< Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >

Ao3 or read below

Being an auxiliary member of the crew was great. Connor was learning more about sailing and how the ship worked every day. But there were still drawbacks.

Namely, Hank’s tendency to be overprotective.

It was fine, most of the time. He knew his dad worried about him, he loved him and wanted him to be safe. But it was starting to get out of hand.

“I can do this, Dad,” he insisted, trying not to get annoyed.

“It’s too fuckin’ dangerous!” Hank shouted back. “Why the hell are you even thinking about letting him do this, Jeffery?”

Captain Fowler gave Hank a stern look. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was people questioning his decisions. “He’s not a damn kid anymore, Hank. You can’t keep coddling him.”

“Like hell I can’t!”

“Dad!”

“Ok, maybe we should keep it down?” Chris suggested timidly.

He withered a bit under the look Hank gave him, but Dad still dropped his voice a few decibels. This was a stealth mission after all. “I still don’t think we should send Connor,” he argued evenly. “He’s not a formal officer, this isn’t his job.”

“But he is the best person for it,” the Captain sighed. “Hank, we need someone in the water. Connor is the safest choice.”

“Safe for who? Not Connor, that’s for sure.”

“Dad, I’ll be fine,” Connor tried to reason. He would be, he knew he would. It was a simple task, really.

The ship they were pursuing, the Eden, was notorious for making quick getaways and dodging the authorities. Their style of ship was notably faster than the Cutlass, so their only option was to take them by surprise. They had found them docked at an island and were waiting just out of sight before initiating the confrontation.

Connor’s job, if Dad would just let him do it, was to swim up to the boat without being seen and disable the quick-release mechanism on their anchor. That, in theory, would prevent them from cutting and running as soon as they spotted the DPD, giving the crew a chance to apprehend them.

“Hank,” Jeffery spoke more rationally than Dad really deserved considering how unreasonable he was being. “You know he’s more than capable of handling it. Hell, this’ll probably be safer than him staying on the ship.”

“That’s true,” Chris was quick to agree. He was well aware he was at risk of Hank’s temper considering this had been his idea. “We’re going into a fight. With Connor in the water, he’ll be safely out of the way.”

While he didn’t approve of being given a task to get him out of the way, he was eager to actually do something to help. “Please, Dad. I'll be careful.”

Connor knew that look. The way he chewed on his cheek, how his nose scrunched, accentuating the laugh lines around his eyes. They had him.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Fuckin’ fine.” He gave Connor a hard, serious look jabbing his finger at him for emphasis. “But you better be damn careful. Just ‘cus you’re in the water, doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

He couldn’t help the thrill of excitement that ran through him as he enthusiastically agreed to Hank’s demand. The prospect of an actual mission was exhilarating. Connor was determined not to fail.

“Glad we’ve got that settled,” Jeffery sighed, evidently pleased he wouldn’t need to but heads with Hank anymore. “Chris, brief him. Get him ready, then head to the crows nest. Hank, I’m gonna need you at the helm.”

Hank reluctantly agreed, looking every bit like he was already regretting this.

Connor spared a moment and went in for a tight hug. “I’ll see you soon, Dad,” he promised.

“Damn right you will,” he whispered back, returning the embrace.

He broke away, giving his dad another smile before going to join Chris. He could barely contain his excitement, but resisted the urge to bounce happily.

“Alright then,” Chris said grinning. “Time to release the kraken!”

“Not funny,” Hank scolded as he manned his post, unamused by the joke.

Connor, however, couldn’t resist a smile.

#dbh connor #dbh hank #hank anderson #Jeffery Fowler #detroit become human #dbh prompt challenge #dbhthedeepdarkblue

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