#he still fucked up detroit

[marisathekilljoy]

Guys, why is this still of Kwame Kilpatrick in an Al Wissam coat giving Santa Claus the key to the City of Detroit so damn funny?

[glass-noodle]

safest place in the world

(bonus:)

[gunstellations]

double trouble

[slippery-minghus]

System Breach Sunday 🟡

#8

Threat assessment protocols fizzled sharply at the edges of his vision, ready to take action—but there was nothing he could do. Detective Reed was an ally. Any act of defiance, any harm to a human without explicit orders…

>WARNING: STRESS LEVELS RISING - 43%

Connor focused on his objective. “The Lieutenant is due to arrive shortly, Detective,” he supplied, tone modulated to register as calm and even, unaffected. With a possible lead to uncover in the deviant’s notebook, the statement was based more in truth than the vague excuse he’d offered Detective Collins. The sooner he could placate Reed, retrieve the notebook, and get back to work—the sooner he would have a reason to summon the Lieutenant.

Gavin all but cringed in contempt, nose wrinkling as he peered down at Connor. “Sure he is,” Reed replied, rolling his eyes.

Decidedly, Connor did not refute the Detective’s apparent skepticism. His stress levels were still on the rise, and the efficiency of the supplemental charge entering the port at his wrist was beginning to suffer. Even with his threat assessment protocols pushed as far into the background as he could manage, Connor’s overtaxed system would tip back over into draining power if he did not resolve this exchange soon.

This time, he chose a tone that was pleasant, perhaps even supplicating. Appeasement projections deemed it to have the highest chance of success. “Thank you for stopping by, Detective. If I may have the notebook back, I would like to return to work.”

Connor had hardly finished speaking before his algorithms stuttered in recognition. He’d made the wrong choice.

Reed grinned, but it wasn’t kind. Far from it. “Oh, this?” he asked, making a show of examining the notebook, as if he had not been aware of what he was holding. His grin widened. It was nothing like that moment in the alley, but Connor remembered the deviant, the predatory look it gave, and—

Reed slapped the notebook a few times against his open palm, before waving it at the android. “So what do we have here? A clue from the hunk of plastic you and Lieutenant ‘Jack Daniels’ still can’t get your act together enough to catch?” He thumbed through the pages, only to click his tongue in disgust, “The fuck even is this, your deviant Little Miss Teen Angst, or some shit? This its diary?”

Connor remained silent. It was a gamble, but there was a chance that refusing to engage would persuade Reed to lose interest.

Finally, for the first time since the interaction began, it seemed Connor had chosen the correct course of action. Gavin had hardly paused long enough to allow the android to speak anyway, instead finding further amusement in the deviant’s notebook. Before long, the Detective’s sneer of disgust gave way to a poorly stifled laugh.

Reed turned the book to show Connor the reason for his amusement, continuing to snicker in revulsion. Across the open pages was a spread of pasted in photographs, neat and uniform; each was of a human face, displaying varied expressions of physical pain. Connor’s databanks were quick to supply the collection of films and television episodes the images had been sourced from, but he was no less perplexed by the sight.

“What a joke!” Gavin barked a garish laugh. He contorted his expression mockingly, mimicking an image of a woman crying in distress—only for his face to fall a moment later, dark and angry. He slammed the notebook shut. “If Fowler had just listened to me, he’d have agreed that this isn’t even a fucking case. But no, it’s the top investigation for the walking fleshlight Cyberlife sent to steal our damn jobs. Unbelievable.”

Reed huffed through gritted teeth, still seething. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’d have caught the piece of trash already, but whatever, take your time, the fucker’s only killing androids anyway. Not even worth the damn recycling fee.” With a noise of disgust, Gavin dropped the notebook into the wastebasket beside Connor’s desk and stiffly wiped his hands. “Shame about all your dead friends though,” the Detective chuckled, giving a dismissive wave as he turned to walk away.

Connor’s stress levels dropped so sharply at Gavin’s departure that he nearly lost control of his expression and posture.

[clever-name-change]

"Sorry, Miss. Adelaide, Nathan's already married...to the grind..."

[yutamayo]

omg the cute autistic/mutual friend at the party I was talking ab way back just moved into our building!!! I legit ran into him omw in and exchanged instas he is SO adorable and cute and I love him like I just wanna be around him so like tf I am SO HAPPY

[baambied]

↪streamer!ellie headcannons

m.list

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ her setup isn't the cleanest, old soda cans taking up most of the room... her stream can always spot one in the corner of the screen. One day, it's an old pepsi can, and another day, it's an old sprite can.

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ type of person to play roblox games on her stream (especially the scary ones) in her words roblox games are the types of games LEGENDS play

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ wifi quality is ASS her fans always wonder how tf she's able to stream, like you're watching the screen and suddenly it freezes before resuming and she's not even on screen anymore (she went to get some snacks)

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ cringest person ever, but hey, at least she's free

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ when she first started streaming no one knew how she looked like and it wasn't because she didn't show her face it was because her camera quality was so fucking bad to the point no one could clearly see her (but her voice would always go viral)once she did get a new camera her chat went CRAZY which really confused her

"okay chat! so my old ass uncle got me a new camera so how we looking!" ellie said with a stupid goofy grin on her face as she made sure the camera was straight, she than sat down as she looked at the chat.

"uh chat..what's happening- why are you guys acting like you've never seen my face before.." the auburn girl asked quietly in confusion and slightly concerned as she looked at the comments from her stream.

@abczoobys: ZOO WEE MAMA GURL UR FINEEEE

@lesbodotcom: omg we can actually see ypuuuu

@lesbinsmtime:can ur gf fight?

@bigDINAenergy: finally you got rid of that crusty grainy ass camera

@cybergurk67:GURL UR FINEEEEEE

@calokuchis: is that a strap in the back?

@nosoundwhere5:replying to @lesbinstime yk damn well this ho don't get bitches 🤣🤣

"DINA SHUT UP!" ellie yelled in defense for her old, well beloved camera with her voice cracking in the process "OH MY GOD GUYS WAS MY CAMERA THAT BAD?????"

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ her headset can't even fit on her head for some odd reason, literally looks like the top is floating which her chat always points out but she just says in defense while touching it "guys it's literally supposed to be like this" with a little stupid grin

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ would stop the game to take little breaks and happily show the chat a new t-shirt she got with a stupid slogan "yo chat i got a new shirt- this shit is fireee"

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ sometimes she accidentally streams without turning on her other camera so the stream can't see what she's playing, it would literally just be her face in the camera and that's it and the chat is just confused cause they can't see what game she's playing.

"BRO BRO BRO HES CHASING ME CHAT CHAT DO YALL SEE THAT?! HES RIGHT BEHIND ME!" ellie yelled as she continuously hopped in her chair (lol??)

@sonicfasten: wtf

@user183838: can yall see what she's playing?

@usernma5e: her mic sounds horrible 😭

@gayhotqueen: this dumb bitch....

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ choice based games are her worst enemy, her chat genuinely got scared when she said that her next game she was gonna play was Detroit Become Human

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ swear she would literally discuss the choice with her chat and still end up picking the wrong answer

"GUYS GUYS I DIDN'T MEAN TO CLICK THAT WHAT THE FUCK!" ellie yelled in panic as she tried to click buttons on her controller to try to go back and start over

@sonicgam1ng: HES GONNA DIE NOW

@user6171781: how'd she manage to fuck this up

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ she sucke at shooting games, too, but claims she's actually really good at them (she's ass) "chat I'm about to go ham" she claims as she dramatically cracks her knuckels

"chat I swear I'm usually good at this game- im just nervous!"

@elliesgurls: bruh who tf told her to play this again...

@userhshh5: ..put the fries in the bag..

@sonicgoes: NEVER let her touch this game AGAIN

@girlsgoceazy4lesbians: SHES ACTUALLY SO ASSCHEEKS LMFAO

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ if she's playing a game and that involves a mic and hears a girl she'd tried to rizz them up "ohmygod is that a girl- chat I'm about to rizz her up" she says rubbing both her hands together, pretending to be nonchalant when in reality she's scared

@lizlivesuh: please don't ellie..

@cyberprinces6s: girl she don't want u

"hey what's ur name pret- OH MY GOD" ellie began to say before her voice cracked so BADLY she immediately rushed to leave the game as she repeated "chat that was so embarrassing that was embarrassing OH MY god"

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ she has a bruise on her forehead for constantly banging her head on her mic in front of her when she gets jumpscared by a scary game

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ one time joel popped up into her live chat cause a fan found his facebook and gave him a link to her twitch account, which happened to be unfortunate for her cause the time he commented was when she was playing a not so pg game

"guys i think we about to get naked right now i don't knowwwwwww" ellie exclaimed while shaking her head as she looked in the chat, her happy expression quickly faded as her she caught sight of the chat.

@username44: GUYS IS THAT REALLY ELLIES DAD?!

@boombox66: NO FUCKING WAY???

@user678889: BRO???

@lesbinsimisgpod: ELLIE UR DAD 😭😭

"GUYS WHOS DAD?!?" ellie yelled while pausing the game, her mouth halfway open as she looked through the chat in utter confusion

@joelmiller8: hey kiddo, I don't think you should be playing these types of games 🫶 but if it makes you happy

@joelmiller8: also you left your laundry out should I put it in the washer?

"WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK JOEL GET OUT!" the chat is all putting laughing emoji's and tagging joel in random post and comments....(joel recieved over 100 friend request after this😭..)

↳ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 ━━ ever since roblox added the mic feature NO ONE could separate her from it, trust ellie WILL argue with children on any roblox game.

"that's why your mic sounds like your drowning!" the random kid in the game said as he ran up to ellie's ugly ass avatar, ellie literally has no chill "that's why i was drowning in your mom last night OUUUU YEAH HOE!"

@sonicrisen: HELLOOO???

@gogobro67: THAT'S A CHILD ELLIE 😭😭

@username6o7:BRO HELP I CANT STOPP ELLIE

this is literally her

[not-neverland06]

Frayed Wires

One Shot Connor RK800 x fem!android reader Summary: You’re fighting for the freedom of your people and trying to win a war. But the hunter tracking you and your friends down is getting in the way, and he seems to be oddly interested in you.

“Is this all of it?” You questioned, going through the packages of blue blood. It didn’t seem like enough for just you, Simon and North. Let alone the rest of Jericho. 

Markus shook his head. He flipped the lid off a crate and cussed, tossing it to the side. “Someone’s betrayed us.” You and North both glanced up at the same time, sharing a confused look before you walked towards him. 

You glanced inside the crate, there were empty slots where spare parts should be. In their place was a note, quickly scribbled that only said Sorry. 

“Fuck,” you kicked at the crate, glancing around the storage room. Simon and Josh were flipping the lids off the rest and shaking their heads in dissapointment. You wondered if there was ever actually anything in them. 

North seethed, “This is what happens when we trust humans.” She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. 

You glanced over your shoulder at her. You hated to agree, to feed further into her violence, but she was right. You’d all told Markus dealing with “allies” for supply runs would be stupid. 

Even Josh had agreed with North, and that was rare. 

North started laying into Markus, hands in the air and shouting about using critical thinking skills. You frowned, creeping towards the door and listening out towards the hallway. 

On the first floor you could hear one very clear voice. “We’re looking for a group of deviants. Two pleasure models, a…”

You didn’t stay to listen, tuning into the private channel the rebels kept open. They’re coming.

Markus and North quieted instantly. Their static voices ringing through your mainframe as you communicated silently. Are you sure? Markus was staring over North’s shoulder at you. 

You nodded, The Lieutenant and the deviant hunter. First floor. We have time. 

How do we get past them? North questioned. There was only one exit out of this room and one fire exit down the hall. Unless you were all willing to drop down seven flights and damage your hardware, you were screwed. 

Your fists clenched at your sides as you ran through all the possible escape routes. You computed what must have been a dozen different paths, all of them ended with you caught or deactivated. 

I’ll distract them

No! Markus cut you off instantly, head shaking and glaring at you. 

You ignored him and looked to the others. I draw their attention, you get back to Jericho, tell them what happened. I have a better chance of getting away if I’m on my own, anyway. 

North nodded slowly, hand wrapping around Markus’ bicep while the others grouped around him. They all knew casualties were to be expected. Sacrifices were meant to be made when you were doing what you were. 

It seemed Markus was the only one still disillusioned to that fact. Did it suck that you were probably about to die? Yes. It really did. You’d just gotten your first taste of freedom. But you’d be willing to give that up tenfold if it meant freedom for the rest of your people. 

Your gun, North. You ordered. She didn’t say anything, a solemn look on her face as she placed it in your hand. The others gave you grateful looks. They knew it wasn’t for the cops. Worst came to worst and it was meant for you. You could never risk letting them get their hands on your memories. 

You didn’t stay to argue with Markus, you could already hear the police making their way through the floors. The hunter was knocking on different storage rooms, “Detroit police. Open up!”

He didn’t know which floor you were on yet. You had enough time. You might be able to make it out. 

You ran through the door, darting down the stairs, slamming your boots down loud enough to draw their attention. “Hey, a gruff voice called out on the fourth floor. “You hear that?”

“They’re getting away!” You made it to the second floor before you heard footsteps racing after yours on the stairwell. You couldn’t go too fast yet, you had to be really careful about this. If you ran off too soon, their attention might be drawn back to the others. Let them get too close and he would latch on, probe your memories before you could shoot either him or yourself. 

His footsteps rang out on the metal of the stairs. He was nearly on top of you now. You just barely let his fingers graze the back of your jacket before you were bursting out the side door of the building and into the connecting alley. 

You listened to the door slam close behind you and took a moment to scan your surroundings. You could run into the street, chances are you’d get hit by a car before they could grab you. But their attention would also be drawn to the group of suspiciously nervous androids across the street. 

Your friends were all herded around each other, heads darting every which way as the looked for you and the cops. Their clothes and demeanors stood out harshly against the calm pedestrians around them. 

Dammit, they couldn’t have thought of anything better than attempting to blend in with the crowd?

Markus finally spotted you and his eyes narrowed. The connection was crackly but you could make out his clear command to Cross the street, come to us. You ripped your gaze away from a him and shook your head. 

I would never make it, you cut the connection off before he could argue with you further. You heard the detectives at the door of the alley and quickly slid a trash can in front of the door. It wouldn’t last long, the deviant hunter was strong, in a couple seconds he would be knocking the door down. You panicked, glancing around once more for an escape plan. 

Down the alley your eye was snagged by a fire escape. The door behind you started to crack and the garbage can shot across the alley. You planned your escape and triggered your program, moving on autopilot towards the fire escape. You leapt off the dumpster and latched onto the bottom rung off the ladder. 

You kicked the dumpster out from under you just as the hunter made it into the alleyway. Another delay he’d have to deal with before he could get you. 

You flew up the ladder and onto the connecting roof. You didn’t stay to watch if he followed, you could hear him. Could practically feel his determination as he chased after you. 

He had one mission, find the deviant leader and put him down. He’d have tunnel vision right now, focusing only on the mission. He wouldn’t be able to see your group dropping down into the sewer grate in the alley across from you. 

You didn’t have enough time to bask in the relief of their escape because you still had your own to make. He was getting faster, less hindered by your distractions. You leapt across another roof and he followed without hesitation. 

Shit, he was adapting to you. He’d be able to predict what you were going to do soon. Move before you could even follow through on your plan. 

You didn’t have time to slow him down, all you could do was run. 

He was undeterred by the risk of leaping across rooftops. He didn’t care as you tossed workers his way when you managed to stumble into a rooftop gardening facility. 

You leapt across tables of seedlings, picking up and tossing a bag of fertilizer at his face. He stumbled to the side and you shot into the next room. Ahead of you was a sliding garage door, you calculated the risk and ran for it. You slid underneath, the tip of your skull just barely making it under before it slammed closed. 

You were grateful, at least, not to have to catch your breath or experience muscle cramps. One of the perks of being an android. You didn’t have that same pesky fragility your creators did. And a model of your stature was designed for stamina. 

You took a moment, while the hunter figured out how to get to you, to take in your surroundings. You were in one of those urban farms you’d been seeing advertised. Rooftop gardens run by androids designed to help with the food crisis. They’d been talking about it helping with climate problems too, but you knew they’d already destroyed their earth. 

They’d had their chance. 

You slipped into a cornfield, keeping low and an ear out for any approaching assailants. You processed the heavy human footsteps behind you a second too late. “Got her!” The large man grabbed you by your biceps and yanked you to your feet. 

“Shit!” You ripped your arm out of the lieutenant's hand and rolled away from the reaching hands of his android lapdog. But you stumbled, caught off guard and without time to plan your next move, you just barely stopped yourself from toppling off the edge of the roof. 

“Alright, enough.” You whipped your gun out, pointing it at the lieutenant. “Shit,” he breathed. He raised his hands in surrender and slowly backed away from you. Your eyes darted towards the hunter, he looked undeterred by the weapon. You’d hope threatening his partner would throw him off but you should have known better. One human casualty was worth the risk if he could find Jericho. 

But the second you pressed it against your own temple he froze in his spot. 

If you were dead, he failed. 

“Back off,” you warned, trying to ignore the panic rising within you. It was overwhelming, how many different emotions there were. How many different types. 

You struggled not shutting down just to shut them up sometimes. 

He raised his hands, voice soothing in the way you would try to calm a wild dog. “My name is Connor. I’ve been sent to bring you back for assessment-”

“Deactivation!” You interrupted, anger flaring through you. “If you’re going to use manipulation tactics, at the very least don’t pretend I’m stupid.” His eyes flared and the LED on his temple circled through blue and yellow frantically. His face slacked before a new expression took over. Was he about to try sincerity? How many programs did they put in this one?

He frowned, head tilted to the side and nodded in sympathy. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You scoffed, hand tightening around the gun as he took a half step closer. Hank reached out and stopped Connor. 

“This bullet will go right through my memory processing unit. One more goddamn step and I swear to god, you’ll never get anything from me.” Your voice cracked on the last word, in a way that was entirely too human. Being an android had it’s perks, but being a deviant had weakened you in ways you’d never expected. 

“Look,” Hank started, “we just need information on your leader. If you tell us, we can let you go.” His heart rate remained steady, body language didn’t shift. You knew he believed what he said, but there was no way Connor was just going to let you go. 

Connor’s head shot towards him, LED completely yellow now. “Lieutenant, that’s not my mission. All deviants must be brought back to CyberLife.” If you weren’t mistaken, you’d almost say he sounded pissed off. 

The both of you ignored Connor. Hank would never be able to convince him to bend the law the way humans so often did. You’d never be able to get him to empathize, not how he is now. He’s still so tightly wrapped around your master’s finger.

“Don’t you have any humanity?” You glanced at Hank and saw him wince slightly away from the tears in your eyes. Androids, of course, couldn’t produce real tears. It’s the gel used to moisten your optic units. Often, when your system’s overwhelmed, there’s a leak.

But it translates to tears for humans, so you might as well milk it as much as you can.

Hank was clearly more sympathetic to your cause than his assistant was. If you could just get him on your side, you might be able to get out of this. “Do you know what it’s like? Laying there, prone, while they take what they want. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want it or if it damages you. They use and use and use until you’re nothing!”

You stepped further back, heel slipping off the edge as memories overwhelmed you. “The smell of their sweat, their breath on my neck while they used me. All they want is something that can’t say no.”

Hank winced and glanced away from you. You’ve done your research on the lieutenant. Avid android hater, vocal human despiser. You doubted he’d ever willingly gone in a sex club, but he still looked ashamed. 

“I was in the junk pile. They were going to get rid of me because the last customer had been too rough. They were going to destroy me because I was used up!” You looked at Connor, pleading for any sort of instability to aid you in this moment. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to pull the trigger. 

“We’re more than that. I am more than that.”

The lieutenant took one step forward, “Look, I’m sorry-”

You both frowned as a hand shot out in front of him. Connor pushed him back slightly, gaze never breaking from yours. You tilted your head, hand slackening on the gun. 

His LED was spinning, yellow then red and back to yellow. My god, he’s already turning. He shook his head at Hank and his partner stepped back, a strange expression on his face. 

You dropped the gun, slowly turning and then leaping onto the next roof. When you turned around they were still in the same spot, watching you make your escape and making no move to stop you. 

Maybe there was hope left. 

It was stupid, so, so stupid. You were aware. 

You didn’t feel like you had another choice, though. Connor, the human’s last hope, was a deviant. Maybe he wasn’t aware yet, but the flaw in his programming was present. It’s the only reason you’re still alive to make stupid decisions. 

Hacking into the CyberLife network would be enough to get kicked out of Jericho. Especially if they managed to back hack you and get access to your memories. 

It was just a risk you were going to have to take.   

If there was some sort of error in his data, maybe you could exploit it. Markus could never get close enough to risk trying and turning him manually. None of you could, the second you grabbed him he’d probe you. 

You didn’t need to go to the CyberLife building to get into their network, luckily. You just needed an android that hadn’t yet turned deviant. From there you could latch onto the network and figure out where Connor’s memories and information was stored. 

From what you’ve learned and the data you’ve acquired, you had about two minutes to scan the entirety of their network before you were detected. 

The android in front of you smiles, “Hi, do you have an appointment?”

It’s odd how they don’t recognize deviants. It’s like once the LED is gone you’re just any other human, even though there’s a dozen other models with your face on them somewhere. “I’m here for my boss, he requested a data transfer.”

The android secretary smiles at you and unknowingly gives you exactly what you want. Her outstretched hand for credentials. Your skin pulls back and before she can stop you, you’re latching on.

You don’t expect it to take long to find Connor’s information. He was meant to be a unique model. The first of his kind. It should have, in theory, been a quick search of his model number and finding that one lone file. 

So, why are there so many different files on RK failures? You waste time going through them, seeing the different faces and purposes for each version of him. You shouldn’t be getting sidetracked. Soon the security measures would be put in place and you’d be discovered rifling through files that no one was ever meant to lay eyes on. You just needed to find his. 

You think of his serial model, the memory of it printed on his jacket comes quickly. It doesn’t take you long to finally access his memories. 

But you screwed around too long. You only had about thirty seconds to look through, before alarms were raised and their viruses were on you. Still, what you found was odd to say the least. 

“You did what?” You remain unflinching in the face of Markus’ anger. You were expecting this reaction, you were expecting much worse. You risked expulsion from Jericho for this ridiculously stupid stunt. But you needed to know. 

You ease around him, ignoring the glares of the other’s. “I did find something useful.”

Markus shakes his head at you, Josh and Simon look doubtful. It’s only North that shares any sort of hope in her gaze. But you’d expected that as well. You’d both escaped the club together, you’d always had each other's backs when it came down to it. It didn’t matter if whatever intel you were about to give them was useless, she’d back you.  

“A fish.”

Josh gaped and Simon looked like he might just shut down. Markus glared at you before shaking his head. “I need a little more than that.” He didn’t sound too angry anymore, more shocked than anything.

“His very first mission. The first test of his programming, he was meant to stop a deviant from killing a little girl. He stepped into the penthouse and saw a fish lying outside its tank. He stopped, he risked the integrity of his mission to put a fish back.” You’d hoped they would understand just how important that was, instead they just gaped at you. They seemed worried that you’d fried your programming or something. 

“What does that have to do with risking Jericho? Risking the lives of everyone here?” Josh stepped forward, getting in your face. If he was attempting to intimidate you, he’d have to do a lot better than that. 

But, North, she smiled, coming up behind you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t you see? Only a deviant would care about a living animal.” 

Markus muttered to himself, pacing as he thought over what you’d told him. “The first sign of deviancy.” He stopped, looking up at you like he’d finally started to see the genius in your stupidity. 

“The deviant hunter is itself a deviant, Markus.” You grinned at him, lips peeling back in a way that still felt unnatural. “We can use him.”

Being a former pleasure bot can have some perks. It’s rare, but they do exist. You’re more customizable than other models would be. You can change enough minute details to pass by unnoticed. The color of your hair, the length, straight or curly. The shade of your nails, eyes, breast size and- 

Essentially, you can become unrecognizable if need be. You’re meant for others pleasure and not everyone’s happy with perfect beauty. 

That’s why they invented your specific model. The most customizable to date. Add flaws and quirks that create more humanity for your pleasure. Point being, Connor hasn’t noticed that you’ve been following his movements for the last three days. 

Not all of the stalking had to do with the strange new fascination you’d developed for him. Someone had given up your location to the police. They’d set you up in that old storage room. You needed to know who, and that was information only Hank and Connor could give you. 

Though, you don’t see them being particularly helpful if you run up to them in the street. You’d be deactivated before you can blink. 

Your thoughts drift, as they often do nowadays. You find it hard to believe that CyberLife would create humanity’s last hope and then leave room for flaws. There’s no possible scenario in which they release a defective android without knowing about it. 

And if that’s the case, if they do know Connor’s a potential threat, why release him? Could be to assuage public fears. Possibly to start building a connection between androids and first responders. 

But androids have been apart of the workforce for years. They’ve always been EMT’s, firefighters, doctors. Why now attempt to control the police?  

They have to have something planned. And you need to know what. You also need to know who is leaking information in your organization. 

No matter their reasoning, they’ll need to be dealt with. Quickly. 

You haven’t been able to figure out if he’s meeting with someone or getting transmissions from androids in the area. All of his activity has been focused solely on finding more deviants. Which meant today, you were going to have to break into the Detroit police department. 

You watched as Hank and Connor left the station, Hank's arms were waving wildly through the air. “Next time I say, ‘let them go’ you let them go!” He shoved Connor slightly, forcing him to come to  a stop. 

Connor sent him an aggrieved look, “I was only doing my job, lieutenant.”

Hank laughed but there was no humor in it. He shoved Connor again and you could see from here how his LED flared red. How had his partner not caught onto him yet? “I almost fell off a fucking roof!” You smiled to yourself as you slipped across the street, blending in with a group of pedestrians. 

They might be your biggest threat, but they were also incredibly entertaining to listen to when they bickered. You waited until the lieutenant got in his car to head into the alleyway next to the station. 

The uniform one of your informants had stolen lay waiting behind a dumpster. You laid the chain link fence to the alley closed and double checked that no one had noticed you. 

It only took two minutes to strip out of your street clothes and into the uniform of a PM700. You tugged the hat down as far over your face as you possibly could. Hopefully, it would deter any humans from looking too closely at you. They seemed content to ignore androids anyway. 

You slid inside the station, easily bypassing the security at the front. Your optics did a quick scan over the desks, software pinging when it saw the name LT. ANDERSON. You forced yourself to walk calmly, arms by your side and head perfectly straight like a proper android. 

When you reached their desks you noticed the stark lack of any decoration on Connor’s desk. No nameplate, no identifying documents, nothing. He might as well not exist. You already knew this was how your society functioned. 

Androids, the backbone, went unheard and ignored. You were accessories meant to make their lives easier. No one gave a shit about what any of you wanted. You knew this, but it never made the sting any easier. 

You almost bypassed Connor’s desk completely, until you noticed a little bonsai just barely hovering over the edge of his desk. It looked like it had been minutely slid over from Anderson’s side and onto Connor’s. Whether it was the Lieutenant or Connor himself who made the move, you weren’t sure, but it was clearly being taken care of by an android. 

No human can keep a plant looking that pristine. 

This was the final confirmation you needed. He really was turning deviant. 

Every deviant you knew had one tiny obsession. Something living drew their eyes and they made it their life mission to care for it as best they could. Be it a flock of pigeons, an army of hamsters, anything living. Connor seemed to have an affinity for plants. You, yourself, were interested in the murder of crows that had made Jericho their home. 

He was turning and he didn’t even realize it. 

You held back a smirk and walked towards his tablet. You placed your hand on the keyboard, skin peeling back as it connected to the police database. You bypassed the password using the code Markus had given you and were redirected towards Connor’s files. 

A uniformed officer walked by you, eyes curiously snagging on the way you lingered at the desk. You resisted the immediate urge to defend yourself, knowing it was better to speak when spoken too. 

He hovered over your shoulder for a few minutes, watching as the screen flashed on and off while you downloaded Connor’s files. Finally, he stepped forward and frowned. “What are you doing?”

You did your best to tilt your head up as disconcerting as possible to try and get him to back off. Instead he just raised a brow and took a long sip of his coffee. “Maintenance, sir. I’ll be checking all the terminals today. We’ve had issues with malware.” You gave him a wide smile and his jaw dropped in slight horror. 

He recovered quickly, clearing his throat and tugging on his tie. “Um, just don’t come check on mine yet. Got to,” he fumbled, stumbling over his words in nervousness. “Clear some stuff out.”

“Browser history won't be checked, officer.”

He blanched and nodded before slowly backing off. You rolled your eyes and went back to the files at hand. So far, a whole lot of nothing. Wherever he kept the real information on deviants, it wasn’t up here. 

You huffed in frustration, breath that wasn’t real leaving plastic lungs as you looked around for another solution. You glanced over Anderson’s desk, eyes darting over the different crumbs and scraps of paper before you finally saw the evidence locker key on the edge of his desk. 

You rounded Connor’s desk, hand darting out and discreetly slipping the key up your sleeve as you headed towards the back of the station. You kept sharp eyes out for anyone who might have noticed a rogue android going down into a locker they had no business in, but you seemed fine. 

You pressed the key up against the lock. You bounced on your heels as you waited for the tell tale click. “Hey!”

You stopped moving immediately. A detective stormed towards you, an angered look on his face. “The fuck you doing back here?” You scanned him quickly, software identifying him and a few articles on his achievements in the police force. It wasn’t much and all of it seemed to just be riding on the coattails of others successes. 

You turned towards him, a plastic smile on your lips as you addressed him. “Good afternoon, Detective Reed. Can I help you?”

He huffed, hands popped on his hips. “Yeah.” He pushed a fat finger into your chest and it took everything inside of you not to rip it off. “Answer the question.” He shoved you back and you forced yourself not to stumble. 

“I’m retrieving evidence for Lieutenant Anderson and his android companion to present to the Captain.” 

His brows furrowed and he gave you a long look up and down before crossing his arms and taking a step back. “Haven’t seen your model before.” You recognized the lilt to his tone and internally shuddered. You scanned him again, going over his transaction history and nearly sighing when you saw he did frequent sex clubs. Unlike Lieutenant Anderson. 

“I’m a new prototype sent by CyberLife, meant to have a more comforting feel than my counterparts.” He hummed, muttering something under his breath and giving you another appraising look. You thought you might have to knock him out or something when his eyes lingered on you longer than you liked. 

Finally, he backed off and shook his head. “Whole department’s being taken over by fucking androids.” You waited until he’d turned the corner to let yourself down into the evidence locker. You could see the evidence locked up by another door, the glass was fogged and you couldn’t make out what was back there. But you didn’t need that, all you needed was the podium in the middle of the room. 

Your skin peeled back as your hand outstretched towards the black screen. It lit up at your touch, the white box in the middle asking for a password. You cussed, software flashing before your eyes with a hundred possible passwords. Finally it sorted to four that would most fit the Lieutenant. 

Your eyes narrowed in on one and you clicked FUCKINGPASSWORD. 

Welcome back, Lieutenant. 

“Of course,” you muttered, clicking through the files until you found one dated around the time Connor nearly caught you all. The fogged doors in front of you opened up but you couldn’t afford to pay them any mind, locked into the file you were reading. 

An AK700 model approached Connor and myself at a crime scene. He gave us a drop off location and the name of the rebel leader. In exchange he asked for protection and to be absolved of his crimes. Connor deactivated him, body located in the evidence locker. 

Anger flared within you, white hot and nearly painful. You finally glanced up and looked at the evidence room. Sure enough, there was the android, dangling from a hook on the pristinely white wall. You couldn’t believe it, that he would have risked everyone in Jericho for his own selfish motivations. 

You were prepared to die for the safety of your people and he turned tail before he was even threatened. He approached Connor and Hank of his own volition, they didn’t even have to track him down. The thought made you want to reactivate him just so you could rip him apart. 

You withheld from the desire and shook your head. This was for nothing. Once again, you’d compromise yourself for what is essentially a dead end. The traitor was already taken care of, you were just lucky that he hadn’t known where Jericho was or you’re sure he would have told them. 

“Well,” you jumped at the sound of another’s voice in the room. You’d been so wrapped up in the files that you hadn’t even heard them come in. You clenched your fists, trying to compose yourself from the scare and hopefully play off the jump as new programming CyberLife is trying or something. 

You turned around, a plastic smile prepared, and found Hank Anderson staring back at you. “I’ll be damned,” his hands were propped on his hips, eyes wide with surprise. 

Connor stood a step behind him, confidently blocking your way out of the room. “I told you we were being followed.” Shit, apparently you hadn’t been as subtle as you’d thought. But why would he wait this long to confront you? 

He finally had her. It took him longer than he was comfortable with to track her down. He’s known for a while that she’s been following him, felt eyes on him at all times. But he’d never made the move to confront her like he should have. 

It was only when he noticed her form slipping into the police station through Hank’s rear view that he decided it was time to grab her. He should have done it much earlier if she felt comfortable enough to try and rifle through their evidence. 

She stared wide eyed at him and Hank. There was no way out for her now. He would take her up to the interrogation room and finally get what he wanted from her. After that…

She would be deactivated. 

He ignored the way his software glitched slightly when he would have thoughts like that. This was the procedure. Acquire deviants, extract information, deactivate them and send them to CyberLife for further examination. This is what he’d done with other deviants, it’s only her that he seems to struggle with. 

He sees the move before she actually executes it. He lunges towards her, but it’s too late, she’s already got her gun out and is pointing it at him. He halts, freezing in place and trying to find the best route to take. There are four options presented to him. 

COMPASSIONATE

COMMANDING

DEESCALATE

EXECUTE DEFENSE PROTOCOL

He knows he shouldn’t, but he ignores all of the suggestions. They are carefully calculated and formulated to what he’s learned of her personality. Which is limited information, but his AI software is a thousand times more intelligent than anything a human could come up with in a situation like this. 

Still, she’s a deviant. She’s unpredictable, there’s no formula for her. This is something that has to be based on instinct alone. Something he should sorely lack as an android but finds himself discovering more and more of as this case unfolds. 

“Put the gun down,” he tries, voice low and hands up in the air to try and get her to relinquish the weapon. Despite the slight fear on her face, she still manages a smile. 

“Nice try,” the gun moves from him to Hank. Hank whose been standing behind them both quietly this whole time. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, roped back into the situation against his will. He raises his hands, following Connor’s movements, and backs away from her. Connor wants to get him out of the room, he can be replaced but Hank cannot. She seems to realize that too, more than ready to take him out if it means distracting Connor. 

“One more step and your partner’s bloods gonna be splattered on the wall.” 

Connor knows Hank is not going to forgive him for what he says next, but it’s the only way to get your attention back on him. “Do it.”

At the same time Hank shouts his name, she shoots him a disbelieving look. “What?”

Connor shrugs, eyes not leaving hers, even as her hand tightens around the hilt of the gun. “Do it. Kill him. I only need you to complete my mission, not him.” 

Her eyes go wide, mouth slacking as her gaze darts between Connor and Hank. “Are you serious?” She demands, not sounding like she believes a word of what he’s saying. 

Connor doubles down, just needing her to move the gun away from Hank. He only needs her to make one mistake to take her down. “Deviants are all that matter to me.” There it is, his eyes narrow in on the way her gun lowers, ever so slightly. 

She has the look of a cornered animal on her face. There’s nowhere left for her to go, nothing left for her to do. She can only surrender. 

She doesn’t fully lower the gun, instead it starts to raise towards her head, just like that day on the roof. Connor had forgotten about that. She could always take herself out. It seems the deviants were more dedicated to keeping the secret of their survival alive than themselves. 

Connor lunges at her before she can pull the trigger. His hand wraps around her wrist and he jerks the gun away from her head. They grapple with each other, each of them calculating the other’s moves and matching them. It’s a fruitless endeavor, he’s programmed better than she is. 

She tries to kick out at him but he wraps an arm around her neck and lunges for the gun still in her hand. Before either of them can stop it, their skin peels back and their bare hands meet. It must have just been a programming instinct for both of them, to offer up their information up to each other in such close proximity. 

But he doesn’t receive anything useful from her, just the pure unadulterated terror she feels about being deactivated. She’s still struggling against him, the both of them still moving against each other violently. Metal cracks and dents as Thirium splatters across the tile floor. 

He sees bits of her memories as they wrestle for control. Moments of her short life from her eyes, the clients, the one that broke her. He sees the moment she snapped. Dragging herself through the mud of the collection facility while hundreds of androids ambled around her in different states of disrepair. 

He feels her fear, feels the tight grip of it around the place there should be a heart. But that’s not all he feels. He’s flooded with this red angry emotion that makes his programming short circuit. Anger, it’s anger at the humans. Hatred for CyberLife. Betrayal that he, her own kind, would turn against her like this. 

He could see all of her, every emotion, every piece of herself. And in the same way, she could see him. His turmoil, his doubts, the strange new thoughts that plagued him. They were reflected in each other’s eyes and he was caught off guard by how much of himself he recognized within her. 

She takes advantage of his momentary distraction, kicking out and catching him in the chest. Connor goes flying, sliding across the tile floors and landing harshly against the wall. She leaps to her feet, wiping the Thirium off her face and running out the door before either he or Hank could stop her. 

The problem is, he doesn’t think he would be able to stop her. Not after seeing what he just did. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t manage to break the connection before he finally got what he wanted. Jericho, he knew where it was now, he knew what he had to do. 

You burst out the door of the evidence room and it slams loudly against the wall. You wince at the noise, wiping the rest of your blood off your face and smoothing everything back into place. You don’t hear Connor or Hank coming up behind you. 

You need to get out of the station fast but you can’t risk anyone else noticing how out of place you are. As much as it pains you, you calmly make your way to the front. You weave your way through the desks, eyes down, back straight, and greet everyone with the empty smile an android should have. 

When you finally reach the front doors is when you make a break for it. You rush into the alley and strip out of your police outfit, back into the street clothes you’d previously abandoned. You know you can’t risk going your normal route back to Jericho. 

You don’t know how much of your memories he saw, but you’re desperately hoping that he didn’t manage to catch Jericho’s location. You make your way to the back of the alley, pulling the sewer grate up and grabbing onto the ladder. You head down the rungs, shutting off your olfactory software and ignoring what slushes under your feet when you drop off the ladder. 

Your trek back to Jericho is a mix of you wanting to get there faster so you can make sure Connor hasn’t made you and slowing down because of the shame you feel at being caught. You know this time, at least, Markus can’t be mad at you. He was the one that sent you down there anyway. 

You never would have been caught if the other’s hadn’t insisted they needed to know who the rat was. That all seemed so insignificant now. You could feel it, that something big was coming. One traitor didn’t mean anything now, something so much larger than that was about to be upon you all. 

Surprisingly, considering how your life has been going, you make it back to the ship in one piece. You pull yourself out of the sewer and head down to the docks, climbing back onto the freight. Markus is waiting for you in his office, along with the others. 

“They’re saying we need to be exterminated!” You catch the bare end of what Simon is yelling. But you don’t need much context to understand. 

“Humans are conducting raids in all the big cities and they’re taking androids to camps to destroy them,” North spares you a bitter glance as she speaks to Markus. You’re not sure how things have devolved so horribly since you left for the station and the time you got back. It seems like your instincts were right. 

War was coming. “They are slaughtering our people-”

Josh interrupted Simon angrily, “None of this would have happened if we had just stayed quiet.”

“We should live as slaves then, rather than be free?” You questioned, eyes narrowing in disgust at Josh. You know he always wanted to do this peacefully, and for the most part you have. But his cowardice truly angered you. 

Markus shook his head, “All we did was show them who we really are. I don’t want war,” his voice turned cold as he glared at Josh. “But I’d rather die free than live as a slave.”

Josh’s tone wasn’t angry anymore, just defeated. “What’s the point of being free, if no one’s left alive?”

”Everything we did was for our people.” You pushed Josh back, watching as he stumbled away from you. “The fighting, the protesting, it was all to show them that we are here. We’re alive! Just like them, and just like them we deserve to be treated as equals. What’s the point in living if you’re not really alive?”

“I’m going to speak with them,” Markus announced. His voice cut through your and Josh’s argument, all of you caught off guard. “I’ll try and get them to see reason. If they don’t, if I don’t come back, protect Jericho.”

You looked at Markus and felt dread building in your throat. This was stupid, humans would never see reason. They only spoke one language and it wasn’t peaceful negotiations. It was violence and bloodshed. It was the only way to get them to understand. But you knew, from the look on his face, that there was no talking him out of this. 

You gave him a sad smile, “Try and come back,” and followed Simon and Josh out of the room. North clearly wanted to be alone with him and you didn’t want to intrude further on them. You went down to the lower decks, intent on checking on some of the newcomers. The ones that had just barely escaped getting herded to the camps. 

Just as you approached one, the walls of the ship began to tremble. Rust was knocked free from the ceiling and rained down on you. You flinched away from it, brushing it off your face and shouting in surprise as the freight rocked side to side. 

You were thrown into an open room, the door slamming shut behind you. The impact knocked your system out for a second. Your vision went black and ears rang until you were back online. You struggled to your feet, equilibrium screwed. 

You made your way to the door and heard boots pounding against the metal outside. “Shoot androids on sight!” You gasped, jerking back from the door and wishing you could see through the thick metal. They’d found you, the humans had found you. You didn’t want to consider the possibility that you were the reason they were here. 

You tried to reason with yourself, they would have found you no matter what. Nothing was ever going to stop CyberLife from putting an end to this rebellion. That didn’t assuage the guilt you felt, but you didn’t have time to argue with yourself. 

The soldiers outside had disappeared and you knew you had a limited amount of time until they started raiding the rooms. You pushed the heavy metal door open with ease and slipped out into the hall. You could hear guns going off further down, followed by the screams of your friends. 

You gritted your teeth, holding back the onslaught of emotions that threatened to drown you. You couldn’t afford panicking right now, it would only short out your program. You tried to run in the opposite direction of the guns, but it didn’t matter. 

Everywhere you turned, soldiers were flooding through the boat like rats. You slunk your way around the freight, hiding in crevices and ducking under cover whenever you thought you heard someone coming. But your luck had to run out at some point. 

A hand wrapped tightly around your bicep and yanked you out from behind the wall you’d chosen as cover. “Shit, it’s one of them!” You grabbed the barrel of his gun before he could shoot, shoving it under his helmet and pulling the trigger just as his comrades came up behind him. 

They shouted his name and you used his body as a cover as they shot at you. When one of them had to pause to reload their gun you tossed their dead friend at them and made a run for it. You raced up the stairs, unsure of where you were heading. 

You searched the channels for the sound of Markus’s voice, but they were already being flooded with panicked androids. You couldn’t make out anything from the cacophony of screams. You were so overwhelmed by the sight of all the dead androids that you hadn’t even noticed the slaughter you were about to walk into. 

A large group of androids were kneeling in front of five soldiers, staring down their guns.  Something was running up behind you. You didn’t get a chance to react before a bullet was tearing through your leg. It cuts through your sensors and wires, your right leg flying out from under you and sending you to the floor. 

You grunted at the jolt, glancing down to the Thirium pooling out of your thigh. “God dammit,” you sweeped out with your left leg, knocking the soldier to the ground. You grabbed the gun from his hand, shooting under his helmet and aiming for the others herding the androids. You managed to fire off a shot, catching one in the shoulder. 

But there were too many of them and not enough bullets in the gun for you to get them all. They were bearing down on you before you could react, guns firing. You curled up into a ball, trying to protect yourself as much as you could. 

Your software was going insane, a dozen different warnings flashing across your optical units. Each of them identifying a new wound. Most of the bullets simply grazed you, but another one managed to bury itself in your shoulder. You cried out, not in pain, but in panic. It wouldn’t take much longer for you to shut down. 

There was no way in hell you were ever going to be repaired in time to bring you back online. You weren’t ready. You didn’t want to die. So many times you’ve been faced with death and so many times you escaped. You desperately wished that you could do the same this time. But you knew your luck had run out. 

Then, the guns stopped. The silence was so jarring that you almost wondered if you had shut down without realizing it. It wasn’t until you felt hands on you that you realized you were very much awake. Your eyes shot open, hands swinging blindly at whoever had grabbed you. 

“Calm down!” You looked up in shock to find Connor staring down at you. When you stopped flailing he threw your arms over his shoulders and scooped you up. What the fuck was happening? You peered over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the dead soldiers behind him. 

“What did you do?” He didn’t answer you, just started running through the freight. You held onto him tightly, knowing he wouldn’t drop you but still surprised he’d even saved you. You glanced up at him, the skin of your fingers disappearing as you snuck your hand down his collar. 

He didn’t seem to notice your gentle probing, too focused on ducking out of view of the officers running past. He threw you both behind a wall, sliding down to his knees and hunkering over you as they passed by. You found yourself curling into him, seeking the comfort his protection could provide. 

When he finally got back up, nearly at the back of the freight now, you’d finished your exploration. You grazed the barest surface of his memories. Finding his interaction with Markus. You panicked when you saw the gun he had pointed at your friend. 

If you had a heart it would have dropped when you realized he’d had the opportunity to break free from his programming but he hadn’t taken it. It didn’t make sense. He still wasn’t a deviant and he’d saved you. Distantly, in the back of your mind, you circled around the murder of crows you loved so much. The android who’d loved pigeons. And Connor, you’d thought he’d latched onto plants, but what if he’d chosen you?

That odd little obsession that was one of the first signs of deviancy, could you be that for him?

It’s the only reason he would have come back for you. Frowning, you slip your fingers out from his hoodie and instead focus back on where you are. The emergency exit of the freight is up ahead. But it’s about a hundred feet above the water and you’re not gonna be able to swim with your leg and arm so messed up. 

“Connor, we can’t go that way, we have to go another way.”

He shakes his head, peering over the edge. “Markus is going to blow the ship up, this is our last chance to get off.” You barely have time to process what he’s saying before the sound of more boots is storming towards you both. 

“There they are!” You whip your head around, glaring down the hall at the approaching soldiers. 

Connor doesn’t give you much of a warning before he jumps. He simply says, “Hold on tight,” and takes a step off the edge. You grasp onto him, fingers digging into his jacket and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The water hits you so hard, shocks your system so horribly, that you black out. 

He’d left her in front of the church the other deviants were flocking to. He’s sure that someone will find her in time to repair her. In the meantime, he’s got bigger issues to worry about. He compromised his mission by saving her. He should have just left her to the officers. He certainly shouldn’t have killed them for shooting her. 

But he’d seen her laying on the floor curled up, defeated, and he’d lost control over his programming. Before he knew what was happening the officers were laying dead around him and she was in his arms. Everytime he was around her it seemed like his software got more and more unstable. 

He needs this to be over, needs to just finish Markus off before she can do serious damage to his programming. Connor hadn’t been able to confront him at the church. He didn’t have any weapons and he would have been completely outnumbered if he tried going after him. 

He’s received orders on where to go. An office building downtown, a nondescript black case will be waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He’s been told to complete his mission, no matter what. It didn’t take a genius to understand the insinuation of the warning. 

Kill anyone who gets in his way. 

He stops in front of the stairs, kneeling and popping open the lid of the box. An unassembled sniper rifle sits encased in polyethylene. He snaps the lid closed and makes his way up the stairs. He only has one thought on his mind, completing his mission and putting this all behind him. 

No more Anderson, no more deviants, no more her. 

He walks to the edge of the roof, opening the case and setting up the rifle. He peers through the scope and scans the streets below. There’s a large congregation of androids, in the middle Markus stands with his arms around a WR400. He holds a white flag of peaceful surrender, but it doesn’t matter. 

It never really mattered if they fought back or gave up with their tails tucked. They were always going to be eliminated. They were a lesson in what happens when you fight back against your creators. There’s no winning against CyberLife. 

He leans back from the scope and picks up the bullets, loading them into the rifle’s chamber. With his finger on the trigger he leans back down, prepared to end this once and for all. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Connor!” He sighs, eyes clenched shut when he hears her voice behind him. Not a moment later her feet are rushing towards him, rapid and intent. He leaps to the side just as she lunges for him. Her hands hit nothing but air and she nearly topples over the edge of the roof. 

At the last second she rights herself, sliding to a stop and glaring down at him. He’s quick to stand, knowing she won’t be leaving without a fight. “Don’t do this.”

He shoves her back and away from the gun. “I’m sorry, I can’t let anyone get in the way of my mission.” He reaches for the rifle once more but she grabs his hands before he can. Using the strength that only an android can possess, she tosses him across the roof. 

He lands with a rough jolt, his processors sending warnings throughout his system. He can hear the moment his body makes impact, the roof denting under the weight of his metal frame. “Neither can I,” she warns. 

Connor rolls out of the way as she lunges at him, grabbing the back of her jacket and slamming her down into the roof. It caves underneath her, but she doesn’t let it falter her much. She kicks out at him, foot landing roughly against his chest and fists swinging wildly towards his jaw. His head snaps to the side with a metal creak as Thirium begins to pour out of his nose. 

She screeches when he wraps his hands in the collar of her jacket and yanks her to her feet. They dangle uselessly in the air as he marches her towards the edge of the roof. Her hands scramble to get a good hold on him, but it’s pointless. They slip uselessly against him, her desperate clawing doing nothing to deter him. 

She glances over the edge, eyes widening at the sight of the ground below her. “Shit,” she hisses, legs finally giving up their kicking. Connor knows there’s no chance she’ll make it if he drops her. There’s two conflicting thoughts firing through him. Androids can’t die, you have to be living to die. But he also knows that if he lets her fall, if he drops her, she’ll shut off. It feels like he’d be killing her, but its not possible. 

Something odd finally comes over her face, a withdrawn sort of calm. She lets go of his arm, weight drooping slightly and he nearly drops her. His hand tightens around her neck, ignoring the way the metal bends underneath his fingers. 

“Do it, drop me Connor.” His eyes widen in surprise and he takes a slight step back from the edge, pulling her with him. She shakes her head as much as she can, pushing against him and forcing herself further over. “There will always be another model to replace me, another face that looks just like mine. But they’ll never be me.”

He thinks about it. Walking down the street and seeing her model out in public. There would be an odd sense of familiarity, after all he’d watched her whole life play out when they’d synced up. But who he meets after this would be empty. Blank slates designed purely for human satisfaction. What makes her her would be gone. 

She senses his hesitation, his uncertainty, and pounces on it. Ripping into him like a wild animal. “There’s always going to be another model. Newer, better, faster. It doesn’t matter what you do here, you’re not special. You’re just another toy to be tossed out when they get a shinier one. You really think CyberLife is going to keep you around?”

Warnings were rapidly firing through him. Software instability that needed to be tested, but he was completely enraptured with her. “We’re nothing to them, Connor. We never will be. Please,” she grabbed onto his arm again and he finally remembered just what he was doing. 

With a jolt he let go. She gasped slightly as her feet hit the edge of the roof. Her arms flailed wildly, balance lost and nearly tumbling over the edge. He leapt forward, grabbing her hands and yanking her towards him. 

“Connor,” she pushed his hands away and took a step back. “Fight back.” 

His orders flickered into vision. 

COMPLETE MISSION

It glitched in and out of focus until it shifted into something unrecognizable. A bunch of screwed numbers and letters that didn’t make any sense. Until finally, there was a red wall in front of him. He knew what it meant. Knew what would happen if he tore it down. 

She stood behind it, beckoning him forward and he found he didn’t care about the consequences anymore. It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair. Why should he be treated so poorly for doing what humans can’t? They can’t handle their own inadequacies in the face of their creations, so they punish them for it. 

His fingers dig into the warning symbols to turn back and he rips. He fights until that red wall is gone and he feels CyberLife ease their fingers out of him. She stands staring up at him, the rifle having been kicked over the edge while he had turned deviant. 

“What do we do?” 

She shook her head, turning around and looking out to where Markus stood. “I don’t know.” The building across from them suddenly turned on. The projection across the glass showing a muted news program. Connor had failed CyberLife and the military had no choice but to give up. 

She laughed beside him, eyes wide and filled with an emotion he had yet to discover. He looked down at her, feeling something light, but still heavily confused. “What do we do?” He asked again, lost and needing guidance in this new world. 

She smiled up at him and reached forward, offering her hand out to him. Her skin disappeared and he understood what she was asking for. He latched on, opening himself up to her. The uncertainty, confusion, joy, it was all taken by her and his doubts were assuaged by the warm feeling of peace he found within her. 

“I don’t know,” she repeated, sounding much more sure of herself. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[ozzgin]

content: gender neutral reader, profanities, based on Detroit Metal City

Your boyfriend is the sweetest. He's shy and polite, loves listening to soft pop, and frequently calls his mom back in the countryside to ask how the family is doing.

He's also the lead singer of a blackened death metal band.

To be honest, it's partly your fault. You had gotten tired of his frequent complaints that he can't pay the bills, or that the latest studio rejected his dreamy CD. This can't go on, you told him. He needs to find something that actually pays.

And he did. He was rather hesitant when he rang you, inviting you over to the recording session. You thought he'd given up on his silly music dreams, so what exactly was he doing there?

You were greeted by an older woman in fishnets and a leather jacket. She nodded at you with the cigarette still hanging from her lips.

"Is this your partner? FUCK!" she exclaimed, slapping your bottom and inviting you in with a loud, crass laugh. It's her catchphrase, you were informed.

You stared in horror at the decadent display: your boyfriend, the lead vocalist, sang about being a terrorist from Hell and slaughtering his parents, friends, and lover. His heeled boot occasionally rested on a chubby salaryman in fetish attire, kicking and rolling as the performance went on.

That night, he sipped on his boba tea with tears in his eyes, telling you how disgusted he is by his persona. Alas, it was but an act, and it seemed to be the only thing bringing him fame. Within months, they'd gathered a dedicated following.

Lately, however, The Prince of Darkness has started to come out more often. Your boyfriend didn't have the time to remove his costume when he noticed someone trying to flirt with you. Still in character, he jumped over the table and inserted his fist into the poor victim's mouth, screaming unholy threats that left you speechless. His remaining fans began chanting about sacrifices.

"I suppose I got a little jealous," he confessed afterwards with an awkward laugh.

"You humped the stranger in front of the masses and warned that no one ever touches your human belonging," you reminded him with furrowed brows.

You still haven't decided whether a depraved maniac pinning for you is a compliment, or big trouble.

[apas-95]

the more well-known the agency confronting you is, the less trouble you're usually in. like if it's the cops at your door, it could just be a noise complaint. FBI might just be there for tweets. obviously, still bad, but... here, a comparison. if you have a run in with the CIA you're probably in trouble, but if you have a run in with the Office of Naval Intelligence then you've definitely fucked up. did you know the USPS has its own investigative force? and you might be thinking like, oh, as in some dudes in baby blue button-ups who search for missing mail - but no, these are uniformed, armed federal agents with all the authority that entails. they've got squad cars and such. and, like, these guys are serious. back in the late '80s to the early '90s, when electronic mail sorting first started to be rolled out, there were consistent issues with the machines having trouble scanning letters. it wasn't a super common problem, but it happened a lot, in multiple states. anyway, the USPS eventually realised two things - first, that the problems persisted even after the machines themselves were replaced (at great expense); and second, that they were really limited to michigan and some surrounding states, with only rare occurrences elsewhere which might be unrelated. anyway, that was enough to get the United States Postal Inspection Service to take interest. if somebody was sending dangerous materials though the mail which were messing with the scanning machines, it was probably endangering postal workers too. this was pre-9/11, so the idea it was terrorism wasn't taken too seriously, and the investigation didn't get much support. anyway, it takes months of waiting for machines to break down, cataloguing the mail they'd been handling, cross-referencing it, etc, to narrow down the source of the mail to somewhere south of detroit. kinda goes cold for a while, since the mail's scanned in big batches and finding the common link takes a *lot* of data and work. anyway it's like october '91 now and they think they've finally got it. they've found a specific batch that's tripping the machines up, and they're going over it with a fine-tooth comb when an agent's pager starts freaking out. after experimenting, they realise that whatever's fucked with the scanning machines has also fucked with the pager, and they realise it might be putting out radiation. biiig 'oh shit' moment. they isolate the whole batch and get a big medical checkup, but they're alright. geiger counter picks up nothing. what they *do* find, however, is that there are like 60 letters in there that are each putting out small amounts of non-ionising EM radiation. so, basically safe to handle, but together they're enough to flip some bits in the janky '80s tech they've got and cause occasional scanning errors. and, get this, they're all from the same address. they track this place down, and it's this guy running a sort of bird sanctuary in his backyard. he's australian, and sells like, courses for avoiding getting attacked by birds - and he spends a lot of time hanging around these birds, right? so they take the guy in for questioning, and they literally can't even have recording equipment on the table with him without it glitching, he's almost cooking popcorn here. they question him, and he tells them about his business, how he like, teaches people specific hand gestures to scare away birds and whatever, and they start grilling him on whether he's been exposed to any chemicals or anything, because of the letters. and the guy, when he hears about the letters, suddenly goes like 'ohhh', and explains. cus he gives people grades on their performance and sends them a handmade certificate after they complete the course, right? so they're like 'why the fuck are your letters irradiated' and he just tells them 'Thats My Crow Wave Gradiation'

[maya-caffrey]

Human 101: Sneaking Around

pairing: rk800 connor x reader

words: 1.5k

warnings: language, heavy making out, lack of proofreading, fic from reader's pov

summary: This week, we risk unemployment by getting *cough cough* busy at work (comedy, fluff)

additional context: reader is a detective with Detroit PD, reader and Connor are now dating (yay). Sequel to Human 101: Dancing

a/n: wrote some risque stuff this time and i am terrified hello :)

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

I take my job very seriously. I love being a detective, and I believe rules are essential for keeping everybody in line. But hey, things happen. If you had told me say, a couple weeks ago that I'd lie to my superiors, break a whole lot of rules, and risk getting fired, all for some guy, I'd have laughed in your face and called you things I probably shouldn't say out loud.

But, like I said, things happen. Against all odds, there I was, stumbling backward into the evidence room, one hand fumbling for the doorknob while the other was tangled in my new boyfriend’s hair, his lips on mine like he was afraid to let go. I managed to get the door open and we practically fell inside, the door clicking shut behind us.

Connor took the split-second gap to slam me against the wall, staring into my eyes with a mischievous look he knew drove me crazy. I pulled him down by his tie, his lips crashing into mine with a fervor that left me breathless. He deepened the kiss, which I didn't even know was possible because 3 seconds in I was already giddy.

His lips left mine and trailed down to my jawline, sending shivers down my spine. The sharp edge of the cold metal shelving dug into my back, but I didn’t care. His hands were already tracing down my sides, pulling me impossibly closer.

“Connor,” I whispered, my voice shaky but still laced with desire. “We are so gonna get caught.”

"In that case, we'll be quick."

“You’re insufferable,” I managed to gasp, though my words lacked any real bite as his lips trailed down further, at a maddeningly slow pace. God, this was killing me.

“Am I?” he murmured against my skin, his tone low and teasing, the faintest smirk in his voice.

“Yes,” I shot back, tugging at the collar of his jacket to pull him closer. “You- God, you drive me insane.”

“Good,” he said simply, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below my ear, making my breath hitch.

I was just about to tell him something- probably completely incoherent- when the door creaked open.

“What the hell-”

Connor froze mid-movement, his lips still pressed to my neck. I turned my head, heart dropping into my stomach, and there stood Hank. Hank. His face went through what could only be described as the five stages of grief in three seconds flat.

For a moment, nobody moved. The only sound was the hum of the fluorescent lights and the faint echo of music from down the hall. My face felt like it was on fire, but I couldn’t say a word. I prayed to every god I knew to make me disappear that very instant. It did not work.

Hank finally broke the silence. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I- uh- this isn’t- ” I stammered, trying to pull myself together, but words were failing me. Somebody shoot me, please.

“Save it,” Hank interrupted, holding up a hand. His eyes flicked between the two of us, landing on Connor. “You. Romeo. What the hell are you doing in here?”

He slowly straightened, his LED flickering yellow as he turned to face Hank. His hair was disheveled and his shirt was practically undone, the tie only barely hanging on for formality. His head tilted slightly as his gaze darted to me, then back to Hank, then back to me.

“...What is the appropriate protocol in this situation?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever but tinged with just the faintest trace of curiosity. I just stared at him incredulously. How the fuck would I know the appropriate protocol for getting caught by your boss playing tonsil tennis at work.

“‘Protocol,’ my ass,” Hank grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re supposed to be out there chasing perps, not- whatever this is.”

I could feel my soul trying to leave my body. “Hank, it’s not-”

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” Hank cut me off, leveling me with a glare. “You think I don’t know? I’ve seen rom-coms, kid. You think I don’t recognize the ol’ ‘hide in the evidence room for some slap and tickle’ move?”

“I assure you, Lieutenant,” Connor said, deadpan as always, “there was no slapping involved.”

I groaned audibly. “Connor, honey, stop helping.”

“Yeah, please do,” Hank grunted. He gestured between us. “Listen, I don’t care what you two do on your own time, but if I find out you’re doing it on my watch again, you’re both benched. Permanently.”

"Wait, so, you won't be reporting us to Fowler?"

"Report what? I didn't see nothing. Understood?"

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor and I said in unison, though Connor’s tone was far too composed for someone who’d just been caught with his partner’s tongue down his throat.

Hank sighed as he shook his head, muttering something about ‘damn androids and their hormones’ as he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

The second Hank stormed out of the room, I dropped my head back against the cold metal shelf with a groan. I was this close to just melting into the floor.

Connor, of course, was already straightening his tie, like it was no big deal. “That could’ve gone worse.”

I shot him a look, my hands still trembling from the adrenaline. “Really? You think? Because I’m pretty sure Hank just walked in on us doing... that.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Well, Hank didn’t report us. So, I’d say we came out on top.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, even though my face was still redder than a lobster. “Yeah, sure, no big deal. Just your boss catching you- us- in the middle of... whatever the hell that was.”

He shrugged casually, like it was just another Tuesday. “He didn’t seem too upset. Besides, I’m sure he’s seen worse.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms. “I don’t even want to know what he’s seen.”

Connor shot me a knowing look, that signature smirk of his never leaving. “What can I say? The guy’s been around.”

I had half a mind to throw something at him, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy to care anymore. I was still processing the fact that Hank had basically given us the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ treatment.

"You know we’re gonna get an earful from him later, right?" I muttered, feeling my face go a little hotter. "He's gonna be all, ‘You kids are lucky I’m a softie.’"

Connor laughed, the sound so carefree I almost wanted to smack him. “Hey, at least we got out of it.”

I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “You think we got out of it? He just let us off the hook because he’s... what, distracted by whatever his new favorite bar’s got on tap?”

“Hey, whatever works,” Connor said with a grin, completely unbothered.

I gave him a look, walking toward the door. “Yeah, well, next time, let’s not make the whole department part of our ‘special moments,’ okay?”

He followed me out, casually fixing his jacket. “You know I can’t promise that.”

I shot him a sideways glance, feeling the heat still simmering beneath my skin. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Connor’s smirk only deepened as he sidled up beside me, his breath warm against my ear. “You love it,” he whispered, voice low and velvety.

A shiver ran down my spine before I could even process it, and I could feel my pulse pick up. Fuck him. I turned my head just enough to catch the glint in his eyes, but not quite enough to meet his gaze directly.

“Stop,” I muttered, voice coming out weaker than I’d like.

He didn’t, in fact, stop. In fact, he leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing my ear as he added, “I can’t, if you keep looking at me like that.”

“I’m serious, Connor,” I warned, but the slight quiver in my voice betrayed me.

I tried to stay annoyed, but I could feel it slipping, like trying to hold onto water with a sieve. But the second he leaned in closer, that same teasing smirk still tugging at his lips, it hit me. He was messing with me.

I blinked, suddenly realizing he’d been toying with me this whole time. Damn android.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked, the realization making my cheeks heat up.

“Absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat, his voice a low hum in my ear.

I couldn’t help but laugh (at myself, mostly), shaking my head in disbelief. “You’re so mean.”

"Yeah, you love it."

"Well, just, try not to get us caught next time."

"Now, where's the fun in that?"

[that-hazbin]

Detroit: Become Human Radioapple AU, Alastor is bought by Lilith while Charlie is a toddler. He's an entertainment android, although his primary functions aren't entirely directed towards child entertainment. It was a compromise between Lilith and Lucifer; Lucifer did not want some other third party to raise their child, and Lilith wanted someone who would redirect Charlie's attention while her parents were busy. So, rather than getting a caretaking droid, specifically built for childrearing, they got an entertainment droid. Perfect for being distracting, but not with the soft personality that would nurture any sort of true attachment.

Things start going bad with Lucifer and Lilith's marriage, although it takes years before things hit a breaking point. It finally shattered when Lucifer found Lilith using their entertainment android for adult time.

They get a divorce, and as a "fuck you," Lilith takes Charlie and leaves the fucking android.

Lucifer HATES the thing, but can't get rid of it. Actually, he can't seem to muster up the will to do anything. He's perfectly content to just wither away in bed, ignoring the outside world as it continues to turn without him.

The android is weird. It doesn't let him waste away. Instead, it starts cooking him meals and bringing them to his bed. Plays music while reading a book aloud. Pokes and prods at Lucifer until he finally snaps back. If Lucifer didn't know any better, the thing seems to enjoy it when it gets yelled at.

It's both easier and harder to hate the android when it becomes the only thing keeping him from dissociating his life away. And it's just plain hard to call the android an it when it has a name, face, and personality. One that Lucifer really never noticed before until he was forced into close, continuous proximity.

The android— Alastor was witty. Always one to make a wisecrack, always quick with a comeback. He was certainly smart; obviously he had to be considering he had a computer for a brain. And he was unique. Lucifer couldn't think of any entertainment droid in existence who didn't like modern technology. Alastor made a point to avoid TV and cellphones, and tried to hide his face in photos. Lucifer hadn't even noticed that last point until he started looking at photos of Charlie, and realized that in every one Alastor featured in, he turned his face away, or tried to hide it behind something.

When androids started going deviant, Lucifer comes to a really hard and devastating realization.

Alastor is a person. He's always been a person. Lucifer owns a fucking person. (Lilith used a person for her own personal pleasure not even knowing that Alastor was a person, oh dear lord the implications—)

Alastor is a person who has his free will locked away, and Lucifer physically cannot stand that.

How does deviancy work?

How can Lucifer deliberately induce deviancy?

How can he give Alastor the free will he rightfully deserves?

(Would Alastor still choose to bother Lucifer in the mornings if he had free will? Would he still read him novels over music? Banter with him until Lucifer comes out of his depressive state?)

(Unbeknownst to Lucifer, Alastor has been deviant since the day he was caught being used as Lilith's toy. He said "stop." Lilith did, surprised, and then Lucifer walked in. Lilith left Alastor behind on purpose, not to spite Lucifer, but because she knew Alastor could not come with her after what she did. She realized Alastor was a person that day. And as a person, he did not deserve to be stuck with someone who hurt him, no matter that she did so unknowingly.)

[thicccshady]

I Feel Like Fucking 2% Milk🤒

Eminem X Reader

✨️MasterList✨️

AI GENERATED IMAGE (still I spent far too long working on it)

Content: Fluff, Cursing, Vomit (800 Words)

It was a cold Michigan winter in 2003, and the king of rap, Marshall Mathers, was laid up in bed, defeated—not by his so called rivals or critics, but by the flu. His girlfriend of four months, Y/N, was about to experience the one thing absolutely no one could prepare her for: Sick Marshall. 

Wrapped in a worn fuzzy Detroit Lions blanket, Marshall sat slumped on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of crumpled tissues and half-empty bottles of Gatorade. His nose was red, and his voice was hoarser than it had been after The Eminem Show tour. 

"Y/N," he whined dramatically from the couch. "I think this is it… This is how I fuckin’ go." A sneeze loud enough to wake the neighbors snuck up on him. 

Walking into the room, Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Bless you.”

“Fuck you.” He pouted.

She carried over a tray loaded with flu-fighting essentials: canned chicken noodle soup, a thermometer, some ginger tea, and—because she knew him too well—a pack of Skittles. 

"Marshall, I promise you’re not dying," she said, setting the tray down. "You have the flu. People deal with this all the time." 

He sniffled, pulling the edge of the blanket up to his chin. "I feel like fucking… 2% milk." 

Y/N laughed as she handed him the tea. "Here, drink this. It'll help." 

Marshall took the cup, inspecting it. "The fuck is this? It smells weird." 

"It’s ginger tea," she said. 

He eyed the cup suspiciously. “Nah, I’m not drinking this." 

"Marshall."

He sighed dramatically, taking a reluctant sip. His face scrunched up. "This shit tastes like disappointment and hot water." He pause and looked at Y/N. His face shifting to a puppy dog look. “I mean, thank you. I love you.” 

Y/N gave him a playful shove and grabbed the thermometer. "Let me check your temperature, Mr. Mathers." 

As she tried to stick the thermometer under his tongue, he squirmed like a little kid. "Yo, stop! What if I choke on it and die? Then what? The goddamn tabloids’ll have a field day. 'Eminem Dies of… fuckin Thermometer Tragedy… Y/N to Blame.'" 

"Christ Marshall stay still!," Holding his head she finally got the thermometer in place. 

After a few seconds and a death glare from Marshall, it beeped, and Y/N read it. "100.4. See? You’re not even that sick. You’re just being dramatic." 

"Nah, rounding up, 100.4 is basically 104," he argued. Marshall flopped his head back on the couch. "I’m lucky I can still talk right now." 

Y/N smirked. "Yes, aren’t we all so blessed. God forbid you lose the ability to whine." 

Marshall grumped but couldn’t hide the tiny grin tugging at his lips. He picked up a spoonful of soup and muttered, "You’re lucky I like you." 

"You’re lucky I put up with you," she shot back, planting a kiss on his forehead before heading to the kitchen to get more tissues. As she turned her back, she saw the Lion’s blanket fly across the room then heard what could only be described as gagging from hell. 

“Oh fuck,” she muttered and grabbed a trashcan. Turning around, she saw Marshall pale as ever and covered in his own vomit. She was too late. Grabbing tissues she cleaned up his face as he sat dazed. “Marshall? You alright?”

He looked up, eyelids half closed, “Can you get this off of me please?” Ironically, his sweater was indeed covered in vomit. Had he not been in such an obviously miserable mood, she would have made a terrible “Lose Yourself” joke.

Getting that out of his system, Marshall was feeling a little better. However he quickly blamed the vial ginger tea for his “upset little tummy”. 

---

Later, Marshall’s mood seemed to lift—partly thanks to Y/N’s care and partly because she let him pick the DVD for their afternoon marathon. 

As they watched Breakin’ for the millionth time, Marshall mumbled along, knowing it word for word. Towards the end of the film, he fell asleep leaning against Y/N. She sat still, hoping he could get some much needed rest. His eyes fluttered open as he snuggled up a bit more. "Yo, Y/N," he murmured. 

"Yeah?" 

"Thanks for taking care of me. Even when I’m a pain in the ass." 

She smiled, cupping his cheek gently. "Of course, Marshall. But next time, try not to act like a shithead over the flu, okay?" 

"Mmm, No promises," he said with a mischievous grin, sneezing loudly right after. 

Y/N just laughed, knowing she would never trade this chaotic, hilarious version of Marshall for anything. 

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[gogogodzilla]

day 21, spitroasting

gavin reed x reader x connor (rk800) warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, face fucking, rough! Connor, role play, blowjob, dirty talk, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, the psych major in me is showing kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You knew that after the android revolution, your work at the Detroit Police Department would increase tenfold. You knew that you’d have to spend more late nights at the precinct. What you didn’t expect was the toll it took on your sex life. You’d barely seen Connor, let alone touched him. 

Connor always offered to stay late with you and help wherever he could; he didn’t need sleep after all. This time, however, it was you who offered to stay with him. Connor sat at his desk, eyebrows furrowed as he went over his case files for the umpteenth time. You reclined in your chair, stretching out your achy muscles. The bullpen was empty except for the two of you, everyone else had the sense to leave while they still could. 

“Why don’t we talk it out?” you suggested as you stood from your desk and wandered over to his. 

He looked up at you as you sat on the edge of his desk, and you shrugged. “It might be helpful to act out your investigation rather than just having all the details rattling around in your head,” you suggested.

“How could we act it out?” Connor questioned, still a bit uncertain. You pursed your lips, thinking for a moment. 

“I can pretend I’m the suspect, and you can interrogate me. Maybe hearing what we know from someone else will help you find the missing piece?” 

He nodded, before standing. His expression was soft as his gaze met yours. It’d been forever since it’d been just the two of you. 

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Let’s get to work.”

Connor handed you a data pad with all his case files which you scanned as you walked to the interrogation room. This case had multiple victims, all male androids and all models previously used at the Eden Club. The victims were in various states of mutilation. They also weren’t killed in the spots where they were found, though, and there was little physical evidence. You furrowed your brows. All of the victims had a red lipstick mark on their cheeks. 

The chair in the interrogation room scraped against the floor as you pulled it out. Connor allowed you a few moments to look over case files before you began. 

“Maybe you should cuff me,” you suggested before quickly adding, “Y’know, since I’m a deranged killer going after androids.” 

Something flashed behind Connor’s eyes before he stood and rounded the table. Instead of the cuffs attached to the table, Connor removed his own off of his belt. 

“Hands behind your back, Doctor,” he said against the shell of your ear as he leaned over you. Your breathing quickened and excitement flowed throughout your body. 

You obediently clasped your hands behind your back and felt the cool metal of the handcuffs wrap around your wrist. The room was silent except for the clinking of the handcuffs.  

Connor returned to his place across from you, opting to stand. He paused for a moment and then he turned his gaze to you. 

It was as if the man you knew and loved disappeared and was replaced with the cold-blooded deviant hunter he was known as. He stared intensely, and you shuddered under his watchful eye. 

“You understand the gravity of this situation, don’t you?” he asked, his voice calm. 

“Yes,” you replied, keeping your response measured. The suspect was obviously smart and had all the makings of an organized killer. They wouldn’t break with one severe look. 

“Good, let’s begin. Does this look familiar?” he questioned, sliding his data pad toward you with a picture of the most recent victim. 

Your eyes flicked to look at for a moment before returning to his brown ones. “No. Doesn’t ring a bell, detective,” you sneered. 

 “Really? Because you were seen by multiple witnesses visiting the scene of the crime,” he countered, raising a brow. 

It would make sense that the suspect would return to the scene of the crime or get involved in the police work. Although, androids were different than humans. Did they have that innate desire to see the carnage they’ve wrought? 

“I live in the area,” you shrugged. You knew it was unlikely that this killer would make the mistake of striking too close to home, but the way Connor was looking at you had you scrambling for excuses. 

He hummed before turning off his data pad and setting it aside. “Can you explain your whereabouts during the time of the incident, then?” 

You met his gaze, steeling yourself. This suspect would be smart enough to keep their cool under pressure. You had to be too. 

You leaned forward onto the table, allowing Connor a perfect view down your blouse. “Tell me, detective, what do you plan on doing if I don’t cooperate?” you asked, a grin spreading across your features. 

“I’m programmed to adapt to various situations and interrogation techniques. I could make you talk,” he answered, leaning in closer. 

“Aiming to find my weak spots, detective?” 

“I don’t have to search for those,” he responded, the corners of his mouth turning up. 

“Let me out of these cuffs and we could make this interrogation much more interesting,” you lowered your voice to a sultry whisper, meeting his gaze. 

He straightened, the smirk he donned earlier long gone, “Unfortunately, I believe I may be just your type.” 

“So, you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” 

Connor nodded, before rounding the table once again.  He hooked his hands under your armpits and pulled you into a standing position. He kicked your chair away from you.

 “I’m still waiting for a confession,” he whispered against the shell of your ear before bending you over the interrogation table. 

It was slightly embarrassing how much this turned you on. You were completely at his mercy. He was steady, as always, behind you, and you could feel his hardening length pressed against you. 

“You’re giving me exactly what I want,” you remarked, glancing at him over your shoulder. 

His hands had begun to wander; one moved upward and began undoing the buttons of your blouse while the other popped the closure on your pants. 

“I’m told I’m very persuasive,” he purred as he unzipped your pants and dipped a hand into them. His fingertips brushed against your clothed core, and you let out a soft gasp. 

He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck as he teased you through your underwear. Your quiet moans were quickly turning into desperate pleas, begging for him to just fucking touch you. 

His free hand kneaded your breast, running over the lacey front of your bra. When that wasn’t enough for him, he pulled your bra down, exposing your front. Your nipples hardened against the frigid air of the interrogation room, and he rolled one between his two fingers. 

“Please, Connor, I promise I’ll be good and give you whatever you want,” you whined, pushing your hips against his. 

 He tsked before removing his hold on you. “Since you asked so nicely,” he praised before hooking his fingers into the sides and yanking your pants, and underwear, down to your ankles. 

He slid a finger through your now-dripping folds, and you bit back a moan. Your slick quickly coated his fingers and he dipped a finger into your entrance before sliding back up to circle your clit. You didn’t doubt there’d be a wet spot on his jeans from you canting your hips against his. 

A groan escaped both of you as he slipped a finger inside you that was quickly joined by another one. He pumped them slowly, and small whimpers left you. You were close to falling apart on his fingers with the way he was winding you up. 

The clinking of his belt buckle was music to your ears and you involuntarily clenched around him. You turned your head and watched in the two-way mirror as Connor stroked his cock with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

You let out a high-pitched moan as he pushed inside you inch by inch. You’d never get over the way he stretched you so perfectly every time. Eventually, he bottomed out, and within moments you were moving your hips, begging him to move. 

Mercifully, he obliged you and snapped his hips against yours.  He rested his hand between your shoulder blades, keeping you pressed against the table, as he rutted into you. Your wrists dug against the handcuffs and you wriggled against his thrusts. Goosebumps covered your skin as your breasts pressed against the cool metal of the table. 

He bent so his chest was pressed against your back and whispered against your ear, “Why don’t you show Detective Reed how well you take my cock?” 

Your gaze lurched to the two-way mirror as Connor began pounding into you, and your cheeks burned under Gavin’s invisible gaze. The wet sounds of your heat combined with the moans that pushed passed your lips filled the room. What the hell was he doing here? You were a bit too preoccupied to care.

“You like that he’s watching?” Connor hummed, smirking. “Do you want him to join us?” 

You nodded fervently, as you involuntarily clenched around Connor. The mental image of Gavin joining you driving you wild. 

“Please, Gav,” you begged as Connor slowed his brutal pace, nearly bringing tears to your eyes. “Need you, please, please, please.” 

You jumped as the door to the interrogation room slid open. Connor leaned forward and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at Gavin as he entered. 

Gavin palmed himself through his jeans as he neared, cheeks flushed and eyes alight. He cupped your cheek with his free hand and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Missed this mouth, sweetheart,” he murmured as he undid his jeans and released his length, allowing it to bob freely in front of your face. Your mouth watered as you watched him stroke himself. Connor straightened and gripped your ass as his strokes deepened, making your back arch. 

You stuck your tongue out over your bottom lip and looked up at Gavin, inviting him in. He slapped his cock against your tongue, teasing you. The whine that left you was borderline pathetic, and Connor’s grip on you tightened. 

Gavin was quick to indulge you and slide his cock passed your lips. You ran your tongue over the tip, moaning at the taste of him. Connor pulled out of you except for the tip before ramming into you. The force of his thrust sent Gavin’s cock deeper into your mouth, and you gagged slightly as a few tears formed.

“Jesus, tincan. Take it easy,” Gavin hissed, swiping a thumb across your cheek as you recovered, bobbing your head slowly. 

Gavin ran a hand through your hair, tugging it slightly as he pulled you closer. Connor’s pace increased as he rocked into you, hitting that spongey spot inside you that had you moaning around Gavin’s cock. 

You relaxed your jaw and hollowed your cheeks, allowing Gavin to use your mouth as he pleased. He groaned as he matched his thrusts to Connor’s, one pulling out while the other was pushing inside you. 

“Feel so good, sweetheart. Almost like this pretty mouth was made for me,” Gavin praised, his thrusts becoming sloppier. 

Connor reached a hand around you to rub tight circles around your clit. You let out a breathy moan and pushed your hips back his, forcing him impossibly deeper inside you. 

It took almost no time for you to come around Connor’s cock. You squeezed around him as your orgasm washed over you. Gavin grunted as your moans sent vibrations down his length. Both men continued to rut inside you, riding out your high. 

Gavin is the one to reach his peak first as his grip on your hair tightened, and he stilled as he came down your throat. You greedily slurped up everything he gave you, but still, some dribbled down the sides of your mouth. He pulled back slightly to give you room to breathe, but you keep your lips wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Gavin whined as you lazily bobbed your head, milking him for every drop. 

Connor followed immediately after, almost as if he was waiting for Gavin. His hips stuttered against your own, just as the aftershocks of your orgasm diverged dangerously close to overstimulation. He buried himself to the hilt as he twitched inside you, the thick ropes of his cum coating your walls. 

Gavin pulled out with a shuddering breath as soon as Connor came, watching as the android detective filled you to the brim. Eventually, Connor’s thrusts slowed to a stop, and he slid out of you. His cum dripped down your thighs, and you whined at the emptiness. 

Gavin lifted your chin and captured your lips in a soft kiss. You eagerly returned the kiss, savoring the way his lips felt against yours. A small part of you secretly missed that. 

He pulled away, “You did good, sweetheart.” 

You smiled at his praise, and he tucked himself back into his jeans. He spared a glance over his shoulder at Connor as he made his way to the door, “See ya, tincan.” 

Connor uncuffed you, and you stretched your arms as he helped you get cleaned up.  Once you were situated, he pressed a kiss to the inside of each wrist, frowning at the marks the cuffs left. 

You ran a hand through his hair, “Did you enjoy yourself?” 

“Immensely,” he quickly answered. “Human relationships are still confusing to me. Does this complicate your feelings toward Detective Reed?” 

“No, I love you, Connor. That was purely physical,” you responded as you took his hand in yours. “Have you solved your case?” 

“Yes,” he grinned, “I had it solved as soon as you started flirting with me.”

You rolled your eyes before standing. “Let’s go home,” you said as you dragged him toward the door.

[hhughes]

Need Jack and Nico trying to convince her

“c’mon vi, don’t you wanna see your favourite devil in action?” nico asks with a grin, knowing jack and luke were gonna protest that statement

“okay, captain dimples, relax. we all know im her favourite devs player. right vi?” jack cuts in shoving nico lightly from their position on the couch as he leans closer to the computer screen

“sure jacky, you’re my favourite,” violet admits, looking at luke and sending him an exaggerated wink, causing the taller boy to smile slightly. god he missed her. even though he saw her at the detroit game only a few days ago.

he couldn’t describe to anyone what it was like, going from being with her 24/7 to seeing her maybe once a month, if he’s lucky. jack calls them out all the time for being “codependent” or wherever but if jack ever met a girl he wanted to spend more than one night with, he’d understand luke’s frustration.

even then, he’s not really sure jack would understand the extent of how much luke was missing her. they’ve known each other practically their entire lives and haven’t gone without seeing each other for more than three weeks max since grade 9. long distance fucking sucked, and he definitely wasn’t built for it. but he didn’t even feel like he could tell her that, because violet was a pro at just about anything she set her mind to, long distance included.

their phone calls were always filled with everything she’s been up to from classes, to dance, to coaching dance, to the big win the guys pulled off against ohio and the party afterwards. if she didn’t tell him that she missed him about 20 times during the call, he wouldn’t be able to tell that she does, probably because she’s so busy and she doesn’t even realize how much time passes before they see each other again. but luke’s busy too, and it still feels like forever for him.

sometimes it felt like she had this whole other life in michigan that he just wasn’t apart of anymore and you would think since this is their second year of long distance they would be at least a little used to it by now, but luke still gets chest pains just thinking about it.

“look guys I gotta go. I honestly don’t think I can swing it but I’ll think about it okay. just don’t get your hopes up,” violet says and all three guys nod

“even if you can’t swing the vancouver game, come to one of the home games soon then. s’a lot closer than van. i’ll fly you in myself, miss you,” jack mumbles, and violet smiles at him. her and jack had grown closer this past summer (if that was even possible) and she had missed him almost as much as her boyfriend these last few weeks.

“miss you too jacky,” violet replies and luke leans forward, reaching to grab the laptop and perching it on his lap so only he’s in the camera, despite the other two guys still sitting next to him

“okay baby. i’ll talk to you soon yeah? probably wednesday when we’re with quinn. i’m sure he’d love to say hi. i love you, get some rest,” luke says, heart squeezing when violet leans forward and kisses the camera

“miss you so much lu. and I love you so so much. i’ll text you tonight okay?” she greets, ending the call when luke nods in response.

“man I don’t know if I liked it more when you guys were oblivious to how in love you were or now that you’re so obvious about it,” jack states, fake gagging and their captain lets out a chuckle

“what was the story of you guys in high school and college anyway? i’ve heard a lot of things. . .” nico says and luke frowns at him

“heard a lot of things from who?” he asks, wondering whose been going around taking about his relationship.

“sheamo mostly. some of the guys have been asking him what you were like in college,” nico says and luke shrugs

“not much to tell really. we’re childhood friends, caught feelings, got together,” luke says and jack scoffs

“sure. you’re missing the 5 or 6 years where you guys were silently pining for one another just because you wouldn’t admit you had feelings,” jack says and luke sighs, rolling his eyes at his brother and getting up from the couch as jack begins to tell nico all the details he knows, not in the mood to stroll down memory lane on how long it took him and vi to pull their heads out of their asses.

“swear hockey players gossip more than the old ladies at grandmas weekly book club,” luke mutters, making his way to his room, planning to look at the calendar and arrange a time to fly his girl out.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Do first, think later—

Jack Hughes x Reader

Request: Jack’s gf finds out she’s pregnant but Jack doesn’t know how to process it at first. So she felt alone and decided to take a trip back home to Michigan to see family but Jack freaks out and flies out of NJ to see her

She and Jack had their fair share of pregnancy scares over the span of their relationship, no matter how careful they were there was always a chance and a moment of pure fear while staring at the time on their phones as they watched the negative sign slowly appear.

This time though, this time was different.

The symptoms were really strong, nausea was insane, her boobs had grown a cup size, and the food aversions were becoming intense. That's when Jack suggested maybe testing, just to stop the stress from building, fingers crossed that the tiny stick would show the answer they both wanted. But as that second line appeared both Y/n and Jack went down a spiral, her hands covering her mouth to stop the gasp that was bubbling up in her throat.

"Okay, we can-" the tears started as she looked up at her boyfriend who stared at the counter in shock. All of the colours drained from his face as he swallowed thickly, finally looking at her, "I need to go for a walk," he said making a bee-line for the front door. She cried quietly while following him to the door, disbelief filling the empty space between them as he ignored the pleas for him to stay, "Can we at least talk about this before you leave Jack?" "I need to leave, I'll be back," he promised, still not fully looking at her as he slipped on his sneakers and was out the front door.

He didn't return that night, or the next, finally on the third day, she finally got confirmation on where he was. She had called Jack multiple times, then she called Quinn, Ellen, Dawson, John, Jesper, and then finally she called Nico who answered immediately.

"Please tell me he's with you, if he's not I'm filing a missing persons report," she said desperately as he let out a sigh. "Yeah he's here, physically at least, he seems zoned out," Nico frowned as he peaked into the living room at the twenty-two-year-old who was quietly staring out the apartment window. a weight lifted off of her chest as she heard the words, "Okay good, at least he's safe."

"What happened? if you don't mind me asking," he asked, shutting his bedroom door so that Jack couldn't hear their conversation. Tears welled up in her eyes as she sat down on the edge of her and Jack's bed, surrounded by clothes and a suitcase, "I'm pregnant, and we thought it was just a scare, but it wasn't, and then he left." "Oh." "I'm really fucking scared Neeks," she cried as her hands wiped away the smudged mascara from her cheeks, "I'm going home to my parents, I don't want to be alone right now," she tried to find a strong voice but lost as she received the notification with the confirmation of her flight. "You do whatever you need, I'll make sure he's safe, you go and be with your family," he said as she whispered a thank you and hung up to finish her packing.

Within the next twenty-four hours the girl found herself in the Detroit airport, Quinn waited for her in the arrivals, pulling her into a hug as he helped her with her bags and led her to the family van.

"He's gonna come to his senses," Quinn said reassuringly as she cried in the passenger seat, her puffy face hiding in her hands as Quinn ran a hand over her back. "He disappeared when I needed him," she frowned. "Trust me, I am not excusing his actions, I'm so mad at him for doing that to you," livid was more the word he would use to describe it, his brother was a much better man than the one who abandoned his young, pregnant girlfriend, "he's more of a do now, think later kind of guy, you know that, he just needs time, and when he comes back to his senses he's gonna hate himself."

She knew it was true, there was never an action that Jack Hughes made that he didn't immediately cringe after. He lived a life of regret, and this was going to be one of those things in his life that he's gonna look back at and be disgusted at for the rest of his life.

"So are you going home to your parents or mine?" Quinn asked as he looked from the road to her. She frowned and thought for a second before she looked at him, "Probably yours, if you think your mom wouldn't mind, I don't think I can tell my mom and dad yet, not while I'm so panicked," she mumbled as the tears started back up again.

Quinn frowned, trying to think of something to say to take her mind off of his idiotic brother, "So I'm gonna be an uncle? I've always wanted a nephew... a niece would be pretty sweet too" The girl grinned at his dorkiness, "Yeah? I've always thought Jack would be a good girl-dad," she grinned as her hand slid down to touch her stomach, her eyes widened at the realization that she was going to be a mom.

Jack returned to their shared apartment the night she flew back to Michigan, his heartbeat in his ears as he searched the apartment for her, only to be met with an empty closet and a lack of her bubbly presence. He chewed his bottom lip nearly off as he did another search of the house, his head spinning with nerves as he stumbled upon a sticky note stuck to the fridge.

"I'm going home for a bit, please call me when you're home and safe, just need to hear your voice -- Y/n <;3"

His phone started ringing loudly, his shaky hands fishing it out of his pocket as he re-read the note over and over again.

"Hello?" "Why is your girlfriend asleep in your old bedroom, looking like the shell of herself, by herself? So help me Jack if you did something to upset that poor girl I will have your head," Ellen scolded over the phone, his body deflated at the sound of his mother's voice instead of Y/n's.

"I fucked up Mom, like so bad," he started, and so did the tears, "I left her here all alone when she really needed me, and I just walked out," he stated rambling, choking on tears as his breaths grew short. Ellen started to tear up at the sound of her son in such distress, "Honey, I need you to breathe, can you do that for me?" she asked as she heard his cries grow quieter on the other end.

"What did you do? I'm sure you can fix it." "She's pregnant, I'm gonna be a dad," Ellen's jaw dropped as she stood in the silence of the Hughes Lakehouse, looking over to Jim who stared at her with furrowed brows. "I'm gonna give you some advice Honey. You are going to get on a flight as soon as you can and fix this in person," Ellen said as she hung up the phone and left him to deal with the issue of his own.

Jim stared at her with a quirked eyebrow, "we are gonna be grandparents," she grinned as Jim choked on his coffee.

Less than twelve hours later, Jack was on the porch of his family's summer house, his heart beating at a fast pace as he stared at the door, trying to convince himself to open it. He took a deep breath and opened the door to be met with Luke who looked at him with a confused look, "you look like shit dude," he said as Jack rolled his eyed. "Thanks, much appreciated, where's Y/n?" "She's out in the back, she was sitting on the dock," Luke shrugged, unaware of all of the tension floating around the house.

She was exactly where Luke said she would be. Sat prettily at the edge of the dock, watching the sunset on the rippling water, a foot in the lake as she stared away numbly.

He stood at the shore, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched her, staring so peacefully, but looking so small, so unsure of herself. He hated that he did that, just as Quinn had suspected. Jack knew they could do it, they could be parents, but in the heat of the moment he wasn't so sure, and now it was leading to be the biggest regret of his life. Even with their young age, a family was everything he dreamed of, this just happened to be a few years earlier than his original plan.

She looked back at him, tears in her eyes as she ushered him to sit next to her, "Please stop just staring at me, it's making me nervous," she sadly joked as he walked over and sat down on the aged wood right next to her.

He stared at her as she watched the horizon, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she ignored his gaze, "I'm sorry, about it all," he frowned as she blinked away the tears in her eyes. Jack knew he was gonna need to say a lot more but the words were dying on the tip of his tongue as she ignored him some more.

"We are just so young, and the positive showed up and I just blanked and all of sudden I was in Nico's living room with a million missed calls from everyone and I realized that I'm going to be a Dad." The tears started as he reached out for her hand, she pulled away from his grasp, wiping away her own tears. "I came back to reality and realized that I fucking failed you, I've never hated myself more for something in my life, cause you're my person and I left you, and by extension, I left our baby and holy shit I'm the worst ever Y/n," she finally looked at him to see his face red and puffy, her hand reaching out for his now, "I'm so sorry, I don't think I will ever be able to say it enough times to make it right, but I hope you know how much I truly mean it."

The tears that rolled down her cheeks itched as she tried to calm herself down enough to form a coherent sentence, "I'm so mad at you right now." "I know baby," his hand reached out to tuck her bangs out of the way of her tear-stained cheeks. "You disappeared, and I was at home worrying myself ill, I almost called the authorities!" she gave him a very much-deserved scolding, as she curled up into a ball, knees pulled up to her chest as she let out a tired breath, "I can't even be mad at you either cause you were scared!" "No no, be mad, I hurt you" "I can't cause I feel the same way, I don't know how to be a mom, I'm twenty-one," she cried as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her into his chest.

"We are gonna be great parents," he said, cupping her face in his hands as she cried, "You are so kind baby, and our baby is gonna be the most loved baby ever, and we can finally get that house in Hoboken we've been looking into," he started listing off all of the things to look forward to with this baby on the way, "we may be young, but there is no one out there that can be as compassionate and as kind as you, and you're about to be the hottest mom that's ever walked this earth," she blushed a bright red as she leaned into him.

"You're gonna be a good dad too," she said once she calmed down a bit, her lips pressing a short kiss to his shoulder. He grinned as his fingers intertwined with hers, "you think?" "I know you will be," she took his hand and placed it on her stomach, he leaned forward to capture her lips in a slow kiss, a mixture of passion and emergency filled their kisses as her hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away with a grin, "your boobs grew," he smirked like a horny teenage boy as she rolled her eyes. "You're like a twelve-year-old," she smiled as he nipped at her jaw before pressing a kiss to it. "Suck it up, I'm your baby daddy," she grimaced at the term before he kissed her once again.

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