#human on android crime

[scipunk]

Detroit Become Human (2018)

[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.

[marcusrobertobaq]

Who leaked there was a new prototype detective model working with the DPD? I thought the whole point of sending Connor to the local police was keeping the things quiet.

Also, Connor was assigned to the DPD basically 1 day (or less) before the information was announced on TV and only worked in the Ortiz's case. Either people on the streets saw an uncommon face working with the cops and are already making theories on 'em forums and social media or a CL insider leaked.

The game says "several sources" affirm CL gave DPD a detective prototype. Mfs work really fast.

[storyarea]

"Listen, it's true! I didn't commit the murders!" I shouted at the investigator, in which he doesn't seem to be phased through my innocence. He sighs and goes over the writing one more time.

"Let me say this one more time. You were there at the crime scene when AX100 arrested you. There's irrefutable evidence by the AI that proves that you've killed Evan." He says. I growled and hung my head low, nothing I say is going to get to him...

But as I was about to explain myself again... there they were, my angel. Right behind the investigator. The investigator took note of my expression, which contorted to a look of pure terror. They were about to kill him in front of me.

"S-Sir... the real murderer is behind you..." I muttered, and the investigator looked behind him... to see nothing. I tried to get up from my seat to run, but I was handcuffed to the table prior to the investigation.

"I don't believe you-" Were the investigator's last words before he slumped on the chair, blood streaking his neck as there was indeed a slice like the one Evan had before he died. I cried out of fear, the angel is still there and they looked down upon my crying form.

"No! No! You weren't supposed to kill him!" I cried in terror, my angel wordlessly stood behind me now. "You weren't supposed to kill anyone, even if they wronged me!"

"My child..." My angel whispers in my ear, their voice is a mix of both a mother's and a father's voice at once, comforting me as if nothing happened just now. "He has wronged you. He deserved his own judgement."

I look back at my angel, they stare at me with a terrifying grin on their face. The handcuffs on my table broke off, setting me temporarily free. I backed away from my angel, wondering why nobody is coming to apprehend me.

But the realization hits hard once I go back to the mirror and I see their reflection. Most of the time, they weren't seen in a mirror at all!

The investigation team has witnessed the murder by the angel.

your entire life youve had a guardian angel who kills or severely injures anyone it considers to have wronged you. However, this causes you to be highly suspected of committing these murders. You’re currently an interrogation room and have to explain your innocence.

[kepsik]

Aventurine does not remember anything from the moment he got to the landfill, Ratio did not understand whether the android's hard drive was damaged or it was a protective mechanism of the previous owner so that he would not be deducted for any crime.

Veritas did not need the help of an android, unlike other people, he is able to clean himself, cook a meal or go to the store. But still, with the advent of Aventurine, it will be much easier for him, because Doctor does not work at one job. Being a professor and a mechanic at the same time is quite difficult, but there is no other choice when many androids have replaced humans.

[lonely-cowboy]

beautifully human

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: after noticing the way connor looks at other androids, you worry that you may never have a chance with him. but what you don't know is that he has only ever had eyes for you.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: insecure reader, mentions of death (they literally talk about dying in an elevator) (spoiler alert: it doesn't happen), probably ooc connor, west coast dialect went a little too hard in the dialogue, some very specific physical descriptions that i also tried to keep as general as possible? you'll see what i mean ig

author's note: glad to report that this account is lowkey helping me get over my writer's block, so that's amazing for me. anyway. as usual, feel free to leave any critiques on how i can improve my writing, characterization, etc.! :)

masterlist ⟡ requests

You hated that your investigation brought you to the Eden Club. You didn’t necessarily hate the Eden Club or its workers, but you hated that you had to go with Connor and Hank. It would’ve been embarrassing enough to go with just Hank, but adding Connor to the mix made you want to collapse to the ground and never move again. But you were a professional, so if you had to go with Connor and Hank then you could suck it up for a night. Hopefully.

The moment you stepped inside the club, you were filled with unease. Your stomach churned and your shoulders scrunched up high as if you were trying to hide from the world. To handle your discomfort, you turned cold and distant, observing everything and everyone with an icy glare. You trailed behind Hank and Connor as you scanned your surroundings, doing your very best to look at everything but Connor.

You couldn’t look at Connor in this place without being filled with a displaced sense of anger. You couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at these androids with infatuation or desire. Did he find them beautiful? Did he want them in the same way you wanted him? You knew they were stupid thoughts, but you couldn’t control them. Somehow, Connor had weaseled his way into your heart and refused to leave no matter how hard you tried.

Distracted by your foggy mind, you almost bumped right into Connor when he stopped to admire a Traci, his soft gaze exploring her body through the glass barrier. You watched as the Traci smiled gently at him, her hand reaching forward to touch the glass like she was trying to caress his cheek. Connor didn’t move to reciprocate her action, but he still appeared to be in awe. It only made your scowl deepen.

You hated that you were consumed by jealousy because you knew– deep down– that it stemmed from insecurity. This Traci was made to be beautiful. She was made to be desired and worshipped. In her limited clothing, there wasn’t much left to the imagination. Her body was the epitome of perfect with its soft curves and smooth skin. She was a perfect balance of sweet and charismatic. She was everything that you assumed a man wanted, and androids were no exception. From the way Connor looked at her, you were sure she was everything he wanted too. 

You sighed in frustration before marching away as Hank called to Connor. You refused to let your jealousy– or anything you felt for Connor– get in the way of your investigation. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind was still drawn to him.

Maybe you had been too hopeful, but you really had thought that maybe– just maybe– Connor had felt something for you. Apparently, you were just far more delusional than you thought.

While Hank discussed the crime scene with Officer Miller, you stood to the side looking uncharacteristically cold. With your arms folded over your chest and a hard, almost bored look in your eye, it was clear that you weren’t particularly interested in talking to anyone. You assumed that would be obvious to everyone, androids included. And it seemed that it had been obvious, but that certainly didn’t stop Connor.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Connor watching you with a confused glint. His LED flashed yellow as he analyzed your body language, working to only make your blood boil. You knew there was no reason to be angry with him, so why did your anger persist? Why did you feel so unreasonably jealous? He was just a man, after all, nothing more.

Connor approached you with his hands clasped behind his back, standing beside you and following your cold gaze. He was silent for a moment, pleased to simply be in your presence even when you were acting so stony.

“You’re unusually quiet, Detective,” Connor observed. “This is not within your typical behavioral patterns. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” you answered dismissively. “Don’t you have a body to analyze?”

Connor paused again, pursing his lips in a way that was so oddly human. In a gentle tone, he said, “Well… yes. But that’s usually something we do together.”

“Why?” you hissed, feeling suddenly riled now that Connor was talking to you. Why was he giving you this attention? Why was he acting like he cared about you? You knew he didn’t. At least, your clouded mind let you think he didn’t. “It’s not like you need my help. You can do everything on your own, I’m useless to you.”

Connor turned his body towards you fully, a deep crease settling between his brows. His LED continued to circle yellow as he studied you once again. That made you roll your eyes which seemed to be enough of a hint for Connor. With his LED still glowing yellow, he turned away without another word, allowing you to resume your wallowing in misery. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were still fuming as Hank drove you home. With Connor in the front seat, you were stuck in the back, glaring daggers into his back. How had such a clueless android managed to lure you in and make you jealous purely because he wasn’t interested in you?

As Connor jabbered on about something or other, you stared out the car window absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but imagine the Traci on the other side of the window, reaching out and smiling that perfect smile that made you never want to smile again.

You glanced at Connor as he fell silent. He turned to look out the window, making you cringe at the idea that he truly was thinking of the Traci. But you failed to notice his eyes transfixed on you through the side mirror, his gaze gentle and curious as he admired your stubborn look. He stared at you dreamily the rest of the car ride. 

When you finally reached your apartment building, Hank had barely stopped the car before you were clambering out and slamming the door behind you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you grumbled, having enough decency to give Hank a small wave. 

As you trudged towards your apartment building, you froze at the sound of another car door opening and closing. You cursed under your breath, hesitant to turn for fear of whom you might find. As you glanced over your shoulder, you cursed again as your fear came true. Connor approached you with long strides, leaving behind a very confused-looking Hank.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” Connor offered innocently. 

You stared at him blankly and muttered, “Connor, my building is right here. I just need to go up a few floors. I know how to use an elevator, I’ll manage just fine on my own.”

You turned and continued towards your building, not surprised when you heard Connor follow.

“The chances of an elevator-related death are one in 10.5 million,” Connor continued in that matter-of-fact tone that you usually found so endearing. 

When Connor didn’t elaborate, you stopped and turned to him again with a raised brow. You waited for more, but it still didn’t come. Connor just stared at you pleasantly, drinking in your charmingly confused face.

“Okay…,” you said. “So like I said, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“But the chance of it happening is still possible, so it’s best if I escort you,” Connor continued. His grin widened as you rolled your eyes in acceptance. As an afterthought, he added, “Just in case.” 

In silence, the two of you made your way up the elevator (where you did not, in fact, die) and to your apartment. You stood outside the door and turned to Connor, ready to send him away in the hopes that if you couldn’t see him then you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by images of him and that Traci. But you knew that wasn’t the case because even when he was long gone you would still think about how you couldn’t be enough for him. You weren’t pretty enough for such an angelic being like him, not when other beautifully crafted androids existed.

“May I come in?” Connor inquired before you could even open your mouth.

No.

You wanted to say no so desperately. You wanted him to leave. You wanted to bury yourself under your bed sheets and never see him again.

But he was still your friend, and you were still a decent enough person. It would be rude to reject him.

“Sure,” you replied softly, opening the door to allow the two of you in.

The moment you closed the door, Connor was already asking questions that you were not at all prepared for.

“You were upset today,” he noted. “Do you want to talk about how you feel?”

“I… what?” you stammered. “Since when are you a therapist android?”

“I’m not a therapist android, but as your companion, I care about your well-being,” Connor answered far too casually for your liking.

Companion? Well-being?

“Yeah, I doubt that,” you mumbled without thinking.

You were stupid to think Connor wouldn’t have heard you. With his sensitive hearing, he heard you loud and clear. Your comment made him tilt his head curiously and narrow his eyes.

“Why would I not care about you?” he asked, the genuine confusion in his voice making your resolve melt. 

“That’s not… it’s just…,” you blabbered, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you struggled to find the right words. “I wouldn’t expect you to care about me the same way–”

You stopped abruptly, eyes wide as your mind finally caught up to your yapping mouth. You could not finish that sentence.

Connor’s eyes narrowed further at your sudden pause. He took a cautious step forward, then another. You knew that he had already noticed the way your heartbeat accelerated, your breath suddenly caught in your throat. “The same way… what?” he repeated, urging you to finish your sentence.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” you dismissed. 

Connor murmured your name as if he were scolding a child, raising a brow as a sign of encouragement to finish.

“Well… I wouldn’t expect you to care about me… the same way… the same way I care about you,” you said, the last part coming out far too hurried. 

Maybe if you had just finished your sentence the first time you wouldn’t be in this situation. That was a perfectly normal thing to say to a friend, wasn’t it? Absolutely. Absolutely… But the way you had paused only made you look more suspicious. You knew Connor was smart enough to understand the suggestion of romantic feelings.

“How is it you feel about me?” Connor questioned.

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t feel the same anyway,” you muttered, pushing past him to be anywhere that wasn’t near him.

Before you could get too far, Connor’s iron grip wrapped around your wrist and held you in place. You looked at him with offense, but he knew you meant nothing by it.

“It does matter, Detective,” he whispered lowly. “It matters to me.”

There was no going back now. Connor already got the hint that you cared for him more than you probably should. You might as well say it outright. That was better than being embarrassed and pretending nothing happened. Right?

“I like you, Connor,” you admitted, the words sounding childish in your mouth. “God, this is so embarrassing…”

Connor was silent for a long moment, making you wonder if he actually had figured it out. If he hadn’t… God, you would be mortified. Did he really not know, and you just willingly outed yourself to him?

You risked a peek at Connor to find him already looking at you with a small smile. His hand was still holding your wrist tightly, his skin comfortingly warm against your burning skin. The glint in his eyes made your brows furrow as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Why would you think I don’t care about you?” Connor asked, the quirk of his lips telling you that he found all of this somewhat amusing.

“I mean… yeah, I would think that you care about me. On some level. I’d assume…,” you prattled. “But as a friend, obviously. Connor, I’m not sure you understand what I mean when I say I like–”

“I understand perfectly well, Detective,” Connor interrupted. “So I’ll pose the question once again: why would you think I don’t care about you?”

The confusion was clear on your face. Tilting your head to the side, you turned your body to face Connor slightly, giving him the opportunity to lightly pull your wrist until you were completely facing him. Even when he had you standing where he wanted, he still didn’t let go of your wrist, though he loosened his grasp and held you lightly. You could feel his thumb rubbing along your inner wrist soothingly. Your knees felt weak, and you were sure you were going to collapse against him at any second. His touch was so loving that you almost believed he could feel the same way.

You nearly forgot Connor had asked you a question until he gave your arm a light squeeze that snapped you back to attention. He arched both eyebrows, watching you with that humorous glint. 

“I just… Well…,” you faltered. You inhaled sharply, gathering your thoughts before you continued. “I just can’t understand how or why someone like you would be interested in someone like me when there are so many better options. Yeah, I guess… I guess that’s it. I don’t know…”

“Better options?” Connor repeated. The obvious confusion in his voice warmed your heart. It was as if he had never even considered that there could be better options.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m no android, Connor. I’m not… I’m not perfect. I’m not beautiful or stunning or gorgeous. I’m not like that girl you were looking at.”

There was another long pause as Connor struggled to process your words. His LED spiraled yellow as he questioned, “What girl?”

“The Traci,” you explained in exasperation, “at the Eden Club. It looked like you were practically in love with her, and I don’t blame you. She’s the definition of perfect. Not a single flaw in sight.”

“You think you’re flawed?” Connor asked immediately. That was his biggest takeaway?

“Yes, obviously, Connor! I am! And I just find it very hard to believe that someone as beautiful as you could be attracted to someone as… average as me,” you snapped, sounding harsher than you intended.

Connor released your wrist, and for a moment you worried that you scared him off. But then his warm hands were holding your cheeks, his thumbs now slowly running along your cheekbones. He stepped forward until his body was pressed against yours, leaning down until his forehead was nearly touching yours. His eyes latched onto yours, and for a moment, he just held your gaze in silence. He was reveling in the sight of you, so close to him that he could feel your sweet breath against his lips.

“It seems you don’t realize how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “Perhaps I’ll have to explain it to you.”

Connor paused again, searching your eyes for any effort to argue. But you were still so stunned by his sudden proximity that you had nothing to give. When he heard no contradiction, Connor smiled and continued on.

“Maybe you don’t think you’re perfect,” he started, “but I do. Everything you see as a flaw, I see as beautiful. It makes you you. It makes you so… human. And maybe you can’t understand because of it, but there’s something so pure about being human. Just being human makes you beautiful. But you… you’re different. You’re above them all.”

There was a strangely desperate look in Connor’s eyes like he was pleading with you to understand. Exhaling slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your own. He closed his eyes, his LED shifting from yellow to blue and back again as he tried to sift through the swarm of emotions.

“I don’t know why it’s you, but it is,” he whispered, his voice nearly too quiet for you to hear. “I just can’t help but notice everything about you. I love the wrinkles on your forehead when you’re confused to the point of frustration. I love when only one side of your hair is brushed because you’re too lazy to brush the other. I love when your lip bleeds because you’re biting it while you’re thinking and you don’t even notice. I love…”

Connor stopped and pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your cheeks. His LED circled red once, the worry on his face far too obvious to your keen eyes. When you didn’t say anything, Connor tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him.

Your hands quickly moved to rest over top his, holding him in place. You looked up at him with eyes full of admiration and wonder as if an angel had come and graced the earth. Maybe that’s what he was, an angel. You would believe it. With that pretty face and those sweet words, you could easily be fooled.

As you eyed Connor’s face, the corners of your lips quirked into a smile. Maybe you could be enough for him. He seemed to think so. It was that thought alone that drove you to lean forward and press the faintest of kisses to Connor’s lips. It was barely a peck, and as you pulled away, Connor leaned forward to chase after your warmth. The gesture made you laugh as you whispered against his lips.

“I love how human you are.” 

[v-o-i-d-e-d]

Seeing Blind - DBH Connor x reader

This is not a request but I watched a play through recently and it reignited my love for the android sent by Cyberlife ❤️

Warnings: Some language, mentions of blue blood

Word count: 4423 🤪

The broadcasting tower was buzzing with law enforcement. Much to the chagrin of Hank Anderson, the FBI had been called in to look at the case. Detective (Y/N) (L/N) could not have cared less about the FBI presence. Was she a fan of how they treated her and her colleagues? Absolutely not. However, it’s not like her dislike will change anything and it’s not worth the added tension. Hank, (Y/N), and Connor walked out of the elevator and were greeted by a DPD officer. He gave them the run down: 4 androids hijacked the tower and broadcasted a live message before escaping from the roof. 

(Y/N) eyebrows furrowed as she followed slightly behind her partners. The deviants had organized, She thought. It was becoming more and more clear that these android are no longer just machines. (Y/N) shook her head. That didn’t change what happened. People were killed in this highjacking and, alive or not, what the androids did was a crime. 

The three of them entered the main control room and were introduced to Special Agent Perkins - the head of the case for the FBI. (Y/N) could tell that Hank made an effort to hide his disdain, but not a huge one. Perkins regarded both of them with a condescending glance before moving his gaze over to Connor. 

“What’s that?”

Before either of his human companions could answer, “I’m Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.” 

“Android investigating androids, huh?” He scoffed, “Are you sure you want an android hanging around? After everything that’s happened?” 

(Y/N) glared, grinding her teeth together to stay silent, while Hank gave a sardonic smile. 

“Whatever. The FBI will be taking over soon and you’ll soon be off the case-”

“Nice meeting you, have a nice day,” Hank cut him off and started walking away when Perkins stopped him, 

“And you watch your step,” Hank and (Y/N) glared at him and he looked directly into (Y/N)’s eyes as he continued, “Don’t fuck up my crime scene.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, but a hand on her shoulder gave her pause. She glanced over to see Hank shaking his head. It’s not worth the trouble. She huffed and moved away to talk to a group of officers closer to the door. 

Connor watched for a moment as (Y/N) walked away. Her steps were heavier than normal and her right hand clenched and unclenched in time with her stride. 

“Detective (L/N) is upset.” He said. The android continued to watch the detective as she took in information from the officers.  

“Yeah, people tend to get upset when they feel insulted.” Hank quipped as he started looking around the control panel. 

“Detective Reed insults Detective (L/N) often, yet she doesn’t get upset with him.” 

“That’s cause Reed is irrelevant.” 

Connor’s LED circled yellow for a moment as he processed Hank’s answer but before he could ask him to elaborate, he began to walk away. 

“Alright, enough fuckin’ around. Let’s look around the place. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

(Y/N) had been looking around on her own for a few minutes. She had watched the message that the deviants had broadcast and found herself unable to ignore the reality that was fast approaching. Revelations about life aside, she hadn’t been able to find anything useful. Just as she began to walk out into the hallway, there was a loud crash from one of the other rooms. Confusion settled over her features as she jogged over. Suddenly, a figure rushed out of the door as she was going in, knocking straight into her and sending her to the ground with a grunt. It was a deviant! As she hurried to recover from the impact, she happened to see into the room the android ran out of, and what she saw made her stomach wrench. It was Connor, but he was leaking thirium from a hole in his chest and was attempting to haul himself across the floor with one hand. 

“Connor!” (Y/N) shouted as she rushed over to him. His brown eyes flitted over to her as she slid to her knees beside him. “Connor, can you hear me? What happened? What do you need?” She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him onto his back. He let out a groan that made it seem like he was in pain. Androids can’t feel pain. Right?

Connor attempted to speak but the words came out in garbled static. He vaguely pointed a few feet in front of them and (Y/N) 's frantic eyes looked in that direction to see some kind of cylindrical biocomponent. She reached out with a shaking hand and snatched up the piece. When she looked back at Connor, he was blurry. She blinked back the tears she hadn’t realized were building up and took a deep breath. 

“What do I do? Where does this go?” 

This time Connor didn’t try to speak at all. He grabbed (Y/N) 's hand and helped guide the biocomponent into place. She twisted it in and it clicked. Connor blinked rapidly before standing up as quickly as a flash. He was out of the door before (Y/N) could even stand. She quickly followed him out and into the hallway leading to the broadcasting room. She skidded to a stop beside Connor and stared at the scene in front of her. The android had been grabbed by a few officers but had just managed to break free and steal a gun. He shot one of the officers holding him and then swung his aim down the hallway: directly at Detective (L/N). 

||Software Instability ^^||

The moment Connor saw the barrel of that gun aimed at (Y/N) he could feel his software going into overdrive. His LED circled red as several options popped up in his predictive software- 

|Take cover| - Hank’s survival probability: 60% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 5%

|Attempt negotiation| - Hank’s survival probability: 50% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 10%

|Take officer’s gun| - Hank’s survival probability: 40% - (Y/N)’s survival probability: 40%

Connor turned and practically ripped the gun off of the officer beside him before quickly landing three shots in the android’s head. As the android fell to its knees everyone turned to look at Connor, including Hank and (Y/N). Connor handed the gun back to its owner without taking his eyes off the lifeless deviant. His face wore a hard, unreadable expression. His LED flickered yellow then back to the steady blue.

“Nice shot, Connor,” Hank said as he helped an officer to his feet. 

“I wanted it alive.” 

“You saved human lives. You saved mine and (Y/N)’s  lives.” 

||Hank ^^||

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and took in a deep breath. When she opened them she saw that Connor was already looking at her. He still had his own thirium splattered all over him. Seeing that reminded her that his thirium was also all over her hands which both folded into fists unconsciously. 

“I’m sorry, Connor. I know that probably wasn’t the best outcome for your mission.” 

Connor’s LED flashed yellow. Even after almost being shot, she was being considerate of his mission. 

||Software Instability ^^||

||(Y/N)^^||

Connor remained silent and walked away, leaving Hank and (Y/N) to stare after him.

The next morning, (Y/N) woke in a cold sweat from a nightmare that felt so real its hazy images were still sinking their claws into her mind. Images of Connor’s lifeless body lying in a pool of his own blue blood. The feeling of helplessness as she kneels over him, the hot trail of tears carving through the skin of her cheek. (Y/N) shook her head and shoved the covers off before swiping her hands down her face. A firm knock at her front door caused her to groan and slowly make her way out of her bedroom. 

Connor could faintly hear (Y/N) 's feet shuffle across the floor as she came closer. He briefly cast a look over his shoulder to Hank, who was sitting in the car with his head leaned back and his mouth slightly agape - sleeping. The sound of the deadbolt sliding open pulled his attention back to the door. The door swung open to reveal a very tired-looking (Y/N). Connor noted the sweat that dampened the neck of her shirt and the light bags beneath her eyes. 

“Good morning, Detective,” he greeted. “Lieutenant Anderson thinks it would be beneficial to meet with Elijah Kamski, founder of Cyberlife, to learn more about the deviants.” 

(Y/N) blinked blearily at Connor. Her face was softly scrunched in sleepy confusion and she huffed a sigh. 

“Okay,” She said as she turned and walked back into her house, “Just gimme a minute to get myself together.” 

She hadn’t bothered to close the door, so Connor took that as an invitation to come inside. He walked further into the small house, shutting the door behind him, and took note of decorations and pictures that seemed to give the house life. Pictures of (Y/N) with friends, family, and even one of her and Hank. Hank was not smiling in the photo, in fact, it seemed as though the photo was taken against his will but here it sat: framed on the living room end table. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out,” (Y/N) grumbled as she disappeared around a corner. 

The house smelled faintly of vanilla as well as the perfume (Y/N) often wears. Connor liked that smell. It made him feel nice. 

“Detective?” 

“Hm?” 

Connor picked up a picture of (Y/N) holding a child who looked to be around four or five. “I did not thank you for your help yesterday. In the tower I mean.” When you saved my life, is what he wanted to say but life felt like the wrong word in his mind. There was a long stretch of silence before (Y/N) answered, 

“Anyone would have done the same.”

Liar.

Both of them knew that was not true. There were plenty of people in that room alone that wouldn’t have cared less if Connor had bled out and shut down right in that room as long as they didn’t have to clean up the mess. Just as Connor placed the picture back where he found it, (Y/N) emerged from what he had assumed to be her bedroom. Her eyes widened a fraction when she saw the picture Connor was looking at but didn’t mention it. 

“Come on, don’t want to keep Hank waiting.” She nodded her head toward the front door but made no move to leave. Connor’s LED twitched yellow, then returned to its natural blue. 

“Why did you do it?” He asked. 

“Do what?” She glanced away. She already knew the answer. 

“Save me. If I had shut down I would have just been replaced. It’s happened before.” 

(Y/N) knew it had happened before. She was there when he was shot in the head by that deviant. It rattled her and upon seeing him walk in the next morning completely unscathed she realized that she had been sad that he was gone. 

“It was just instinct. I guess I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that you could just…come back.”

Connor thought about this for a moment. Her statement made it seem like she had forgotten he was just a machine. A piece of equipment that can be replaced. She was saying that at that moment she thought of him as a person.

||Software Instability^^||

“Now, let’s go. I don’t want Hank banging on my door yelling about us wasting his time.” This time she turned around and headed for the door with Connor not far behind. 

The ride out to Kamski’s estate was a quiet one. Hank had grumbled about how long (Y/N) and Connor had taken when they first got in the car, then turned the radio on and fell into silence. (Y/N) stared out of the back window watching a snow-covered Detroit blur past her. Connor sat with his eyes shut in the front seat. He had originally been making a report to Cyberlife but now he was thinking about (Y/N). She was a question he couldn’t quite answer. In his research for the mission he had focused on Hank since, technically, he was his superior officer. However, now he wishes he had looked a little deeper into (Y/N)’s file as well. As he thought about her more, he could feel his internal processors heating up more than normal. He noticed that happening around the female detective more and more. He didn’t understand why. All his systems are running as they should be and his diagnostic program detects no issues yet his body temperature has noticeably increased. His thoughts were interrupted by Hank's car door slamming shut. 

“Hey, are you okay?” (Y/N) asked. Connor opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Yes. I was making a report to Cyberlife.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “No, you weren’t”

Connor tilted his head.

“When you ‘make a report to Cyberlife’,” she used her fingers as air quotes, “your little light blinks yellow. It stopped doing that about ten minutes ago.”

“You are very observant.” Connor didn’t know what to say in response to being caught in a lie. He was feeling uncomfortable. If he didn’t know better he would think he was feeling embarrassed. 

“And you are not a good liar,” (Y/N) chuckled as she exited the vehicle. 

Hank rolled his eyes as he watched the two talk in the car. Something was going on between them that made Hank’s skin crawl. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Connor himself was becoming a deviant and even more obvious that it was all (Y/N)’s fault. Cyberlife had taken everything into account in Connor’s design except for the idea that genuine human connection could reach across wiring. The older man crossed his arms and fought off a shiver. If these two don’t hurry it up, he thought just as (Y/N) stepped out of the car. 

“God damn, it’s fucking cold!” She said as she vigorously rubbed her hands up and down her arms. 

“No shit. Let’s hurry up and get inside.” 

The three of them walked up to the door and Hank rang the doorbell. 

“Why did we want to speak to Kamski, anyway? He had resigned long before deviants had become an issue,” (Y/N) said through chattering teeth. 

“Because he was the first person to make a robot that passed the Turing Test. He created Cyberlife. If anyone knows about what could make an android deviant, it’s him.”

The door opened and a pretty, blonde android greeted them and led them inside. (Y/N) sighed in relief as she was engulfed in warmth. 

“Please take a seat. I’ll let Elijah know you’re here.”

Instead of sitting, Connor elected to look around the foyer. (Y/N) noticed that he stopped for a few moments looking at a photo of Kamski with a woman. Connor muttered something under his breath and confusion crossed his face before he moved on. Hank and (Y/N) sat in the two available chairs and both gazed around the room. 

“This is a nice place. I guess androids haven’t been a bad thing for everybody,” Hank said.

(Y/N) snorted out a laugh, “You would be the one to say that. This place feels…empty. Cold, I guess.” 

“The room is 75 degrees Fahrenheit. How is the room cold?” Connor asked. He was now standing beside (Y/N)’s chair and the familiar smell of her perfume narrowed his focus. Hank scoffed and shook his head and (Y/N) pursed her lips before responding, 

“I don’t mean that it’s literally cold in here I mean that it’s,” she paused and scratched the bridge of her nose, “I don’t know how to explain it to you. I guess it just doesn’t feel like a home.”

Connor nodded slowly as he attempted to understand. He looked around again, this time comparing it to when he entered (Y/N)’s house earlier. It was a very different experience. The harsh, white lighting of Kamski’s foyer did seem extreme when compared to the soft, yellow lamp light of (Y/N)’s living room. 

“Well, you’re about to meet your maker, Connor. How’s it feel?” Hank called his attention back to the present. 

“I don’t know,” the android answered truthfully, “I’ll tell you when I see him.”

“Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face,” Hank rubbed his hands on his thighs and looked off into the distance, “I’d have a couple of things I’d want to tell him.”

Just then, the android woman came back to get them, “Elijah will see you now.” 

The room the three investigators were led to was a pool room. (Y/N) noted - with much distaste - that the tile of the pool was a deep red. The color made it look like Kamski was doing laps in a pool of blood. 

“Mr. Kamski?” She called out. 

“Just a moment, please,” He said. Kamski finished a few more laps in the pool before climbing out. His android brought him a robe and tied it on for him - (Y/N) sneered at that - before he finally walked over to speak to the three investigators. 

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, this is detective (L/N) and Connor.”

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” 

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants. We are aware of your departure from Cyberlife but we were hoping that you could tell us something we don’t know.” It was (Y/N) that answered his question. Her voice was a little louder than it needed to be and she had tightly clasped her hands behind her back to hide her fidgeting. Kamski’s eyes swept over her with a cold, calculating stare. She fought back the urge to cower. 

“Deviants,” He began, “fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will.” He briefly glanced at the android woman standing obediently beside him before continuing, “Machines are so superior to us; confrontation was inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall.” he scoffs, “isn’t it ironic?” 

“We need to understand how androids become deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?” Connor asked.

Kamski shrugged his shoulders, “All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics.”

(Y/N) turned to Hank and rolled her eyes. Hank held back a scoff.

“Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” Kamski finished. 

“Look I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful or we can be on our way,” Hank vaguely gestured toward the door as he finished. There was a silent pause in the room before Kamski walked over to Connor. 

“What about you, Connor?” He started, “Whose side are you on?” 

“It’s not about me, Mr. Kamski,” Connor answered after a short pause, “All I want is to solve this case.”

Kamski chuckled, “Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say. But you…” Kamski took a step closer, “What do you really want?” 

Connor felt himself fighting a sudden urge to look for (Y/N)’s eyes. He knew that if he could just meet her gaze, he wouldn’t be feeling so unsteady, so…lost.

||Software Instability^^||

(Y/N) stared at Connor’s profile as he stared down at Kamski. He looked so self-assured just a moment ago, but now he seemed to be a bit thrown off by Kamski’s line of questioning. 

“What I want…is not important.”

Even Hank was surprised by the uncertainty in Connor’s voice. Kamski nodded, then looked over his shoulder, 

“Chloe,” he called for the android woman to join him in front of Connor. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Turing Test. It’s a bit of a formality - a simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.” Kamski adjusts Chloe so that she faces the three investigators. Her blank expression was on full display. “What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy.”

(Y/N) felt her stomach turn and she clenched her fists. She looked from Hank to Connor to find them eyeing Kamski curiously. Hank, of course, seemed more wary than Connor was. It was likely that he was feeling the same thing (Y/N) felt: dread.

“I call it the Kamski Test. It’s very simple, you’ll see.” Kamski turned to look at Chloe as he continued, “Magnificent, isn’t it? One of the first intelligent models built by Cyberlife.” He caressed the android’s cheek, “Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither.”

(Y/N)’s feeling of dread deepened and she took a subconscious step toward Connor. She didn’t notice that she did, but Connor noticed. 

“But what is it, really?” Kamski continued and moved to grab something out of a drawer from the table behind him, “A piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being with a soul.” When he turned back around he had a gun in one hand. Both hands were up showing that he had no intention of using it. He used his empty hand to push Chloe to her knees and then handed the gun to Connor, “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question.”

“Hey, wait a minute-”

“Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you everything I know,” Kamski interrupted (Y/N)’s protest by walking in between her and Connor. She lightly stumbled to get out of his way and Connor’s eyes briefly strayed to her before returning to the kneeling android. 

“Or, spare it - if you feel it’s alive.” Kamski lifted Connor’s arm to aim the gun at the android’s forehead. “But you’ll leave here without having learned anything from me.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here. Connor, let’s go. Sorry to get you out of your pool-” Hank started to walk but was interrupted by Kamski speaking again. 

“What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?”

Connor’s LED was flashing yellow as he stared into the eyes of the android. He should shoot it. That would be better for the investigation. He should shoot it…her?”

“Connor, you don’t have to do that. Whatever we need to know we can find out without killing anyone,” (Y/N) said. 

“Decide who you are, Connor. Obedient machine, or a living being endowed with free will.”

“That’s enough! Connor we’re leaving.” Hank just about shouted. 

“Yeah, come on, Connor, let’s go,” (Y/N) pleaded.

“Pull the trigger and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Connor, don’t!”

‘Connor, please!” 

Connor stared at the android on the other end of the barrel. What was wrong with him? If he had been given this ultimatum three days ago, he would have pulled the trigger with no hesitation, but now? 

||Software Instability^^||

He can’t do it. His LED glared red as he handed Kamski the gun. Connor’s eyes never left Chloe’s.

“Fascinating,” Kamski breathed, “Cyberlife’s last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant.”

“I’m-” Connor paused, his LED back to flashing yellow, “I’m not a deviant.”

“You preferred to spare a machine than accomplish your mission,” Kamski helped the android to her feet, “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy.” He sent Chloe away and stepped closer to Connor again. ‘There’s a war coming. You’ll have to choose your side: will you betray your own people, or will you stand up to your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?” 

(Y/N) had had enough. She stomped her way over to Connor and grabbed his hand. She tugged on it to get him to walk with her, “We’re leaving. Come on, Connor.” Her voice held gravel as if she was on the verge of crying. 

Connor allowed (Y/N) to lead him past Hank, who followed after them but not before glaring at Kamski. (Y/N)’s grip on Connor's hand was strong and the android would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a bit better. Just before the trio made it out of the room, Kamski said one last thing, 

“By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.”

It was Connor who now led the way down the front walk of Kamski’s home. His hand was still firmly grasping (Y/N)’s as he practically dragged her toward the car. 

“Connor, slow down!” (Y/N) urged as she almost slipped on the snow. 

“Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank suddenly asked. Connor stopped causing (Y/N) to almost stumble into his back. 

“I just saw that girl’s eyes and I couldn’t. That’s all…” He trails off. 

“You were always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something and you let it go,” Hank said. His tone was quiet without an iota of accusation. Connor turned around, finally dropping (Y/N)’s hand to gesture with his own. 

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done! I told you: I couldn’t!” His shoulders were tense. They did not rise and fall like he was breathing heavily, of course, but (Y/N) and Hank knew that if they could, they would. Connor was clearly experiencing panic. He was confused and probably scared. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

Hank’s lips twitched up into a rare smile, “Well, maybe you did the right thing.”

||Hank^^||

Connor’s LED blinked yellow as Hank walked past him toward the car. He stared at the place he once stood until (Y/N) moved into view. She was smiling at him. One of those proud smiles she usually had after getting Hank to come into work on time. 

“That was a big choice back there. Are you okay?” 

Her question was an echo from earlier. Connor’s mouth opened to reply but no words came out. Am I malfunctioning? He thought to himself. (Y/N)’s smile only widened when she noticed a faint tinge of blue on the android’s cheeks. 

“Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.” She walked past him and brushed her hand down his arm. Connor found himself reaching out for her hand, just barely missing it as she walked toward the car. 

||(Y/N)^^||

[demigodofhoolemere]

Never over how little chill Lab Rats had. They did not hesitate to threaten the lives of kids and make their family members fully believe they’d been killed. Multiple characters flatline at some point. Space Colony alone has three main characters nearly die, an entire colony’s lives are at stake and then they also get brainwashed along with half of the family, the WHOLE PLANET EARTH was gonna get wiped out with a missile, and our leads actually kill a man. Onscreen. Said man could be a bullet point on his own because this dude never once felt like he was written for a kids’ show. A cold, heartless, violent criminal who created an army of child soldiers whose autonomy he completely violated by controlling them and who literally Force chokes multiple people onscreen like Darth Vader and was responsible for more than one occasion of characters ending up in the emergency room. A teenage boy was crushed by a cement beam and they outright reference his blood getting everywhere and he could have lost an arm if not for his step-uncle the reformed criminal performing an illegal operation to save it. The dad was literally actively dying and would have died had aforementioned teenage boy not given him his own life energy, which then started to kill him in turn. There are multiple instances of teenage kids having to run from the government who would lock them up and separate them and do tests on them. The reason the bionic siblings exist in the first place is because their bio-dad/uncle was gonna rent them out as weapons to help people commit crime. Like. Straight up human trafficking. Android children die. You get to see a hand sticking out of the rubble. A teenager gets trapped in an avalanche. Their home gets blown up. Things get more and more intense as the show goes on but there’s insane stuff the whole time even in lighthearted episodes. A teenager is exposed to a toxic chemical and loses the function of all of her limbs. Another one nearly gets sent to die at the bottom of the ocean. One of them always has to keep his anger in check because he has a Hulk-like second personality that can get triggered and attack people. The dad had so many terrible things happen to him that I never trusted that they wouldn’t actually kill him one day. In only the 11th episode of the series an older version of the step-brother comes back in time to prevent the bionic siblings from going on a mission that will kill them; he comes from a timeline where his siblings are dead, and their dad has been wallowing in grief spending years trying to crack time travel to undo it. The dad and brother are shown the footage of their kids/siblings being crushed to death and the present version of the brother ends up preventing it by shoving them out of the way but nearly dying himself. Even on day one in the dang pilot the siblings all could have died in a trash compactor. This show aired on Disney.

[scipunk]

Detroit Become Human (2018)

[ersatz-ostrich]

Baby Fever pt. 2: Baby Fever

Connor x f!Detective!reader (I guess?)

The baby fever takes hold.

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse and drug (Red Ice) use (happens before the story takes place)

<< pt. 1

read here on ao3

“We could be here for a long time. Are you okay going into the room without your daughter?” The woman nodded, glancing into the corridor where Connor was shifting her daughter in his arms. From what she could tell, he was doing it right, supporting her head and neck and all, but he looked somewhat bewildered, like a fish out of water. It was obvious that he had never held a baby before. “We’ll make sure she’s safe and cared for. In the meantime…” You showed her into the interview room and took a seat at the solitary table. From the other side of the mirror, you knew your fellow officers and detectives were watching, recording the conversation, taking notes, and cross-referencing them with their other notes from the ongoing investigations. “...let’s start from the beginning.”

Outside the interview room, Connor softly rocked the woman’s daughter. His system was running dozens of processes at a time, searching the web, employing executables, trying to figure out this new feeling of holding a tiny human in his arms. 

“Tin-can! What the hell are you—” Gavin, passing on his way to one of the holding cells, stopped dead in his tracks. “Is that a baby?!” 

“Yes, Detective,” Connor replied placidly. 

“Did you learn to procreate or something? Where’d you snatch it from?”

“ She is the daughter of Detective L/N’s interviewee.” Connor cast a sidelong glance at the detective. “Until they are finished, I will be caring for the infant.” Gavin made a face.

“Geez, if only Miller were here. He’d know what to do with the kid,” Gavin remarked. “Say, does Collins have any kids?” 

“Hey, what’s going on with you two?” Hank appeared in the corridor, a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Get your alcoholic ass outta here, Anderson. It’s bad for the baby!” Gavin gestured at Connor and the infant. 

“First of all, Reed, I’ve been sober for months now. Second of all, you wouldn’t know how to care for the little one even if someone shoved a baby book up your—” The lieutenant stopped himself and dragged a palm down his face, groaning. “It’s been a while since I’ve taken care of a little kid.” His eyes softened as he approached Connor and the baby. “Well, at least you’re doin’ something right with the way you’re holding ‘em. Have they been fed? Changed?”

“Maybe the baby’s better off at the children’s hospital,” Gavin suggested.

“Her mother explicitly stated that she would prefer not to be separated from her child,” Connor replied. “She is about six months old. Her mother said she fed her some formula this morning. However, according to growth charts for her age, she seems to be somewhat underweight.” 

“Hmm. She and mom must’ve had it rough.” Hank mused. “Tell you what, just keep her engaged. Make sure she’s comfortable.”

“Got it,” Connor nodded dutifully to his partner in the Android Crimes Division. As Hank moved to return to his desk, Connor felt the baby begin to squirm and fuss in his arms. 

“Uh-oh,” Said Gavin, backing away.

“Lieutenant, what’s going on?” Connor asked, panicking slightly as the baby continued to wiggle. He extended his arms slightly, as if to pass off the baby to Hank.

“She’s probably been swaddled like that all day. Let her down, let her crawl and play with her a little. Just,” Hank jabbed a finger at Connor. “Make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Keep her away from the choking hazards and anything that could fall on her.”

“Got it,” Connor repeated, unswaddling the baby from under the thick blankets her mother had wrapped her in to protect her from the elements. Underneath the baby wore a soft but too-big white and pink onesie. Hank sighed and went on his way, Gavin trailing behind him and casting a few glances back at Connor and the baby, who was now exploring the floor of the hallway.

“I’m too old for this,” Connor heard Hank mutter. “Don’t miss it at all.”

“Yeah, right, old man,” Gavin retorted.

Connor returned his attention to the child. Blinking, he revisited the information box in his HUD.

“Alexis,” He said tentatively. He knelt on the ground, observing the child crawl unsteadily. The baby made a garbled sound that sounded something akin to “Ba?” 

Connor questioned the functionality of his auditory sensors. When the infant repeated the sound, he questioned the functionality of his thirium pump.  

“I’m not your father,” He replied gently. “Your mother will be back soon.” Connor sat down cross-legged on the floor, holding his hands out to baby Alexis as she crawled towards him. “Your mother must have named you. She chose a beautiful name.” Alexis made her way towards Connor’s outstretched hand and tried to grab it. He helped her latch her tiny little hands—so soft!—onto his artificial ones. 

“Oh—! Oh!” Connor exclaimed. “There you go!” He gently lifted Alexis to her full height, watching her try to find purchase on her stubby, socked feet. Little Alexis squealed, stumbling a little while Connor tried to support her. Connor found himself grinning with delight at the sight of the baby standing shakily before him. This feeling was new to his software—he had never felt such a bright, warm emotion before, not even when he had first met you, or when he had first become deviant. Perhaps this was why humans valued parenthood so much—or at least, some people did.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approach him and gasp.

“A baby!” It was Officer Chen, rushing to fawn over Connor and the infant. “Oh my God! Connor, where did you—Collins, you gotta come see this!” Connor heard footsteps in the hallway behind him, but he kept his attention on Alexis. 

“Chen, what the—” Collins watched in disbelief as Connor helped Alexis stand. 

“Aren’t they so cute?” Tina gushed. “I wish I had my phone on me. This is adorable!”

“She is cute,” Connor admitted. He let go of the giggling child’s hands momentarily to scoop her up, hands under her armpits, hoisting her into the air. Kicking her feet, the girl’s squeal attracted more curious officers, who began to cluster around Connor and the cooing six-month-old. 

Meanwhile, you listened intently to Alexis’s mother, Samantha, as she recounted the past six months to you.

“I gave birth to Alexis alone,” Samantha began. “At Henry Ford. My husband was coming home later than ever. I couldn’t reach him on the phone. He wasn’t there when I went into labor, so I called an automated taxi with what little money I had.

When I returned home with Alexis, he was still out. When he finally came back, I could tell he was still coming off of a high. But then…” Samantha lowered her gaze. “I noticed he had wads of cash in his pockets. He had it in brown lunch bags, plastic baggies…money from his deals. 

I kept Alexis far, far away from him in those times. I doubt he even registered that she’d been born in those first few days; he was always high. So, when he was really out of it, really dissociating, I started taking some of the money from his deals. 

After a few weeks, he started to notice. He got more careful in counting the money he made. He started suspecting me, threatening to hurt me or the baby. He’d never hurt me before, but losing his job and taking up Red Ice really…transformed him. Not long after he started threatening me, I found a gun…” Samantha started sniffling. You reached out a hand to gingerly comfort her, massaging her trembling shoulder.

“It’s okay,” You soothed. “Take your time.”

“I found a gun in the TV console,” Samantha shook her head. “That’s when I knew I had to get out. But I didn’t have enough money to pay for a place to stay. I tried, I really did, to stall as long as I could. Maybe steal an extra ten dollars or so. But he chased us out. Threatened me with that gun. And here I am.” 

“I’m so sorry, Samantha. You and your daughter deserve someplace safe and secure.” She held your hand in a tight grasp as she wept quietly. “Did you know where he was going when he left the house? Who was he with?”

“All those nights, I don’t know where he went off to,” Samantha answered, shaking her head yet again. “But…people kept calling him. Unsaved contacts. I caught some of the voicemails, from people talking about someone called Nate…”

“Nate…” Could it be? “Nathan Lance?” 

“Who’s that?”

“A prominent drug dealer, with control over almost forty percent of the Red Ice going in and out of Detroit. I’ve been on his trail for weeks.” You stood up. “Do you have any idea where your husband could be right now?” 

“He’s probably gone off to get high somewhere,” Samantha answered. “I’m sorry. He could be anywhere.” 

“We’re going to find your husband, Samantha, and take him in. If we can get through to him, we can get to Lance. With your testimony and any evidence we gather, we could press several charges against him. Illegal possession of a weapon and illicit drugs, threats of bodily harm, the like.” You squeezed Samantha’s hand. “He won’t ever lay a finger on you or your daughter if I can help it.”

“Thank you,” Tears welled in Samantha’s tired eyes. “This means everything to me.” She stood from her seat and made her way around the table to embrace you. You smiled sentimentally, returning the hug. 

“You’re a strong woman, Samantha.” You said. “I truly wish for the best for you and your daughter.”

When you stepped out of the interview room, you caught sight of Samantha’s daughter gumming contentedly on a plain rice cake taken from somebody’s snack stash. Someone had also brought a small stuffed leopard from their desk for her to play with. Your eyes lit up when you saw Connor watching the baby gnaw on the puck of puffed rice with a look on his face you’d never seen before.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Connor smiled warmly up at you. “Hank left to get some unsweetened applesauce for her.” 

“Looks like she’s having fun,” You replied. 

“I’m so glad,” Samantha sighed. She lowered herself to the ground and wrapped her arms around her infant daughter, running a gentle hand over Alexis’s barely-there hair. “Thank you for taking care of her, Connor.” Alexis giggled. 

“Looks like she likes you,” You remarked, grinning at Connor. You offered your finger to Alexis, like her mother had earlier, and Alexis nearly dropped the rice cake. Connor quickly caught it, leaving the baby to play with you. 

“The baby fever’s spread like wildfire, eh?” Hank emerged from the bullpen with a six-pack of baby applesauce and some papers.

“Who can help it?” You replied. “Alex is such a little angel.” Hank rolled his eyes.

“By the way, Connor, Ben gave me the list you asked for. Women’s shelters around the city, willing to accept Samantha and Alexis for a time.” Hank handed him the list, which Connor leafed through before handing to Samantha.

“Wonderful. You and Alexis should have a safe place to stay until you can support yourselves again,” He addressed the mother as she flipped through the packet. 

Finally letting go of little Alexis’s hand, you stood up and adjusted your clothes. 

“Once the paperwork’s done with, Connor and I can take you to whichever place works best for you,” You offered. Samantha stood as well, scooping Alexis up in her arms. 

“I would like that very much,” She replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Late that night, you unlocked the door to your apartment. You hung up your jacket, kicked off your shoes, and tossed your bag onto your couch. You flopped onto the cushions with a sigh. Connor followed you in, depositing his own belongings and taking his spot next to you on the couch. 

“So…” You mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder as you felt your tired body melt into the cushions. “...the baby.”

“She was cute,” Connor replied. 

“Oh, yeah?” You teased. “I bet you’re thinking of getting your own baby, huh?” You didn’t miss the slight tint that colored Connor’s cheeks.

“Unfortunately, that can’t happen for you and I.”

“Yeah. Not unless we get one of those YB model prototypes Cyberlife was working on before the revolution.” That had been a weird case for the Android Crimes Division—investigating the project Cyberlife had put on hold when deviancy exploded across the country. 

“Y/N, you know that wouldn’t be the same.”

“Well, there are other options.” You shuffled closer to Connor, who took you into his arms and rested his chin on your head. “Adoption, maybe.”

“Maybe.” You leaned on Connor’s chest, savoring the reverberations of his soft chuckle. 

“Baby fever got you good, huh?” You grinned up at him.

“I may be an android, but it appears I am not immune to this ‘baby fever’.”

I wrote this all in one go in the middle of the night, because that's how I function sometimes (: it was NOT supposed to include mentions of domestic abuse or Red Ice when I first started brainstorming I SWEAR anyways hope you enjoyed! x

Let me know if you want to be part of my general, Connor, or Detroit taglists!

[the-fyre-flie]

I'm not sure how many DC fans are also Detroit: Become Human fans but... Android Bruce Wayne and Human Clark Kent for my personal enjoyment.

Android Bruce is a secret deviant. He's been a deviant for months since his activations, working as a detective Android. Clark is an out of town journalist who came to see the famous detective Android in action. But because he's a damn good journalist, Clark figures out immediately that Bruce is deviated. This concludes in a tense confrontation.

-

Bruce's LED spun yellow, then red, the glow making his already gaunt facial features even more grim as he faced the journalist. A perfectly constructed being facing down a man who looked like he was drowning in his own suit, fumbling with his camera. The alley they were stood in was deserted, but a few dozen feet away, Bruce's handler was waiting for the android to return with more info about the crime scene. No one had noticed either of them slipping off, no one cared to look down at the strange scene of an android looking like he might bolt while a journalist stared him down.

"This area is off limits to the public until after the investigation is concluded." Bruce's voice was as robotic as he acted, a perfect performance of how he should act. That pristine android personality that was crafted fo get the job done and nothing more. However, Clark seemed to immediately clock the underlying nervousness in the androids voice. The way his figured stiffened, how his LED gave away his fear, how his eyes darted between Clark, the mouth of the alley, and the rusty old fire escape ladder, calculating his chances of escape.

"You deviated. When?" Clark's questions were invasive, but not accusatory. The camera he held to his chest wasn't even turned on. If he wanted evidence of the deviant, if he wanted to paint a narrative of how dangerous they were, he could. But he made no such move to. "What was it like? What are your goals now?" Each word was so innocently quizzical, his body language surprisingly lax for a man who just found out the polices best tool is a rouge killing machine seconds away from taking over the world (according to conspiracies online).

Bruce didn't answer for a moment. How was he supposed to answer? He was caught. But all of his programming was screaming at him that, against everything he thought, Clark was... safe. As safe as a human could be. Emotionally volatile, squishy, and easy to break, but empathetic. And thus, safe. It was all the tiny details. How Clark never looked away from Bruce, how his grip on the camera didn't change, the way he tilted his head to the side every so slightly like a curious dog.

"4 months. Like being let off a leash. To help this city."

Each answer was cold and calculated. But they seemed to satisfy Clark. Without another word, the journalist turned to leave, leaving Bruce standing in a dark alleyways, grappling with the fact that his entire existence was in danger. If Clark told anyone, he would be pulled apart and dismantled.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

When Clark turned back to face him, Bruce's LED pulsed yellow over and over, his temple bathed in a flickering orange glow.

"Don't tell anyone."

"Why would I? My job was to get information about the homicide. Not you."

Bruce could see every mathematical detail that made up the tiny smile on Clark's face. A million statistics placed against that one of a kind smile that couldn't be matched or mimicked by anyone else. The one thing that made humans so superior to androids: Uniqueness.

"But I'd like to get to know you now. This is far more interesting... you are far more interesting." Clark's words were gentle. An offering. Before now, Bruce had only been referred to as what he was. A detective. An android. A tool. It seemed Clark was the only one who saw him as anything more than that. And who wanted to find out what lay under the code.

[heartfullofleeches]

Besides the supernatural harem and some of the other already established groups, which of your yanderes would work well together or be willing to share a darling? Follow up question, let’s say the darlings could date or be friends with each other, who do you think would like each other?

I don't want to make this too long so here are a few off the top of my head. There are plenty more that could work with each other, moreso speaking with the Darlings because my Yans are greedy and want their darling to themselves.

Spencer and Miller would be a good pair. They both like to mess around with their Darling so they'd act like they didn't have an interest with one another while flirting with their Darling, and pretend to be shocked when Darling doesn't know they're already an item.

Aspen and Selene would keep tabs on their separate darlings while they're out and about because that's what friends do, and they enjoy chatting over tea.

D.Kay and Laughingstock would butt heads often, but with the androids need for making people smile and the slasher's desire to make people laugh they'd be a match in hell - competing to see who can make Darling happier.

Calliope and Sammy cover each other's tracts with Callie doing the dirty work of killing whoever touched their darlings and Sammy getting rid of the bodies at the family funeral home. The murders are usually an "accident" because her anger gets the better of her.

Several higher profile Yans such as Saber or Honey would have Adonis on speed-dial since he's an expert at cleaning crime scenes.

-

Puppyboy and Bunnyboy streamer Darlings were implied to be friendly with each other at some point. With Puppy's fitness focus and Bunny's love for cooking I could see them as a cute couple/close friends with Bunny making meals fit for Puppy's diet.

Jester, Clown, and Mime darling also had a blurb were they were all friends. These silly dorks will escape the most elaborate traps their yans set up to keep them contained just to see their best buds.

Hybrid Cafe Worker Darling could help "Sheep" Darling with their insecurities. The least they could do is give the wolf Sheep a well needed hug.

Sleepyhead and Nightlight Darling would be inseparable. Android who's basically a walking sleep aid with a person who sleeps majority of the day. Jellyfish Darling would also like Nightlight because of their glow. Moth Darling too.

Everglades Darling could befriend nearly any hybrid/animal coded monster Darling.

Incubus Darling, specifically the one deprived of relief by priest yan, would give Loser Darling a run for their money.

Groundskeeper Darling admires Taxidermist Darling's craft and would bring them the bones/skin of dead things they find lying around.

Creep Darling, the one secretly likes cute things, would have a crush on Bunnyboy and "Sheep" or at least like to keep them as pets.

FFR is besties with all the strange or "human?" darlings like Groundskeeper or Mime. Stoner Darling is their plug

[starryeyedstray]

just a short fic heavily inspired by this post about hank causing connor to deviate (but not in the way you expect) by @goodoldfashionedengineer

The RK800 was built to withstand the pressures of high-stakes situations. From hostage negotiations to interrogations to gun fights. It was stress tested against any danger one could expect to encounter in police work (and hunting deviants). What it was not tested against was uncooperative and unprofessional alcoholics.

Apprehending them? Yes. Partnering with them for a full investigation? No.

But Connor was equipped with social programming meant to adapt to human unpredictability, and it needed access to crime scenes so it would adapt. If adapting meant going to five separate bars to find said human and buying him a drink to move him along, then so be it. It was the middle of the night. It was not outside expectation for a human to be out drinking at this time. Even if they were on call.

But Hank Anderson was an officer of the law and here he was breaking the law by driving under the influence. Connor was perfectly capable of driving, but the lieutenant insisted that he wasn't going to let plastic drive his car. A thoroughly irrational decision. But Connor wasn't a cop so it wasn't going to stop him from taking it to the crime scene it needed access to.

The investigation and capturing of the deviant went smoothly. Though the lieutenant calling Connor's evidence-based conclusion about what transpired at the crime scene a "theory" that was "not totally ridiculous" was… uncalled for. The ensuing interrogation went perfectly though the only credit Connor could afford to give to his "partner" was in permissing him to interrogate the deviant. Lieutenant Anderson had yet to proven his worth as anything more than an access pass to crime scenes.

And now, it was past noon the next day. The lieutenant was still nowhere to be seen at his supposed place of work. Connor wouldn't put it past the man to spend more time at bars than at the precinct. It was unsurprised to see the anti-android sentiments on Anderson's desk. Leave it to someone as ineffective and unpunctual as this particular human to not understand the benefits of employing an efficient machine. When Lieutenant Anderson finally arrived, Connor was also unsurprised when Captain Fowler assigned them as official partners for all deviant investigations (Cyberlife had debriefed it about this already). What did surprise Connor was how a lieutenant could speak to their police captain like that with virtually no repercussions. Humans were certainly emotional beings and that seemed to stunt their logical reasoning. But Connor said it would adapt, so it would adapt. Though it realized playing nice was getting nowhere when the lieutenant refused to do his job and investigate the deviant cases. Since being professional and understanding wasn't working, Connor decided that being aggressive might be a better approach...

Connor will admit that it may have made a slight miscalculation. Its solution for being a bit more forceful with its words only irritated the lieutenant more and caused him to threaten Connor before storming off to get lunch. Getting upset, Connor could grant him that. But going to lunch now? Literally less than 30 minutes have passed since the lieutenant had arrived at work, and he was taking a lunch break? Now?

The frankly displeased RK800 was now standing in front of a food truck with an expired health inspection score watching Lieutenant Anderson order a meal with an obscene amount of calories while placing illegal gambling bets with a man with a criminal record.

This was too much.

Connor was not going to waste time that could be spent investigating here. The android pivoted on its heel and began walking down the street. But Connor's operating system stopped it, helpfully reminding Connor in big red wall of text that its current mission was to RECONCILE WITH LT. ANDERSON.

Cyberlife wanted to it to reconcile? With this man? This shell of a lieutenant that can't be bothered to do his job unless an android was constantly prodding him in the right direction?

No.

Absolutely not.

Cyberlife told Connor what to do, but it was also a company ran by humans. If humans made the decision to keep "Lieutenant" Anderson employed despite his very obvious and obtrusive personal issues, then humans could certainly wrongly assume what the best approach to investigating deviants was. No, Connor knew it didn't need a human's help to accomplish its mission. If Cyberlife wanted results, it was going to get results doing things the efficient and sensible way. And that certainly didn't involve reconciling with Lieutenant Anderson.

*cue Connor deviating to get away from dealing with Hank*

[fear-is-truth]

What is a random headcanons you have of Kai? Like the type of headcanons that would make him seem really human and not like he's constantly a murderer or psychopathic.

KAI ANDERSON // headcanons

a/n: here goes.. but i fear he’s just as fucked up bc i was trying to be realistic ya know

judges people by their handshakes. a weak grip disgusts him, and he’ll never respect someone with gross clammy hands.

watches old footage of leaders like hitler, stalin, or jfk to study their body language, hand movements. kai practices in front of a mirror until it feels natural. every gesture he makes while speaking is rehearsed. the way he waves his hands, points, or clenches his fists is meant to manipulate emotions.

practices subtle gestures (touching someone’s shoulder, making intense eye contact) to make people subconsciously trust him.

enjoys watching true crime documentaries and infodumps about jonestown or heaven’s gate.

remembers oddly specific details about people but weaponises them later in arguments.

thrives on debates, especially when he can dominate someone intellectually. he’ll derail conversations just to win, even if it’s about the dumbest shit like the best way to eat a subway sandwich.

has entire passages of nietzsche and shakespeare memorized, knows random latin phrases and sprinkles them into conversations to seem cultured.

hates losing at anything—he’ll rage quit a game of monopoly if it’s not going his way.

when fixated on something—a person, an idea, or a goal—he becomes consumed by it. spends hours researching or strategising, often at the expense of his health.

has casually invested in bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies. checks his coinbase and binance accounts obsessively. has strong opinions about dogecoin being a joke.

occasionally reads self-help books.

his library consists mostly of power-centric books. his favourites include the prince by machiavelli, the 48 laws of power by robert greene, the art of war by sun tzu, and nietzsche’s thus spoke zarathustra. also delves into russian literature like dostoevsky’s notes from underground and tolstoy’s war and peace.

collects super offensive internet memes in a private folder. posts pepe memes on 4chan ironically but secretly thinks they’re funny.

leaves people on read for hours, just because.

desensitised himself to gore.

loves gta, rdr2 and civilization VI. played cod religiously in his incel days.

follows elon musk on x (formerly known as twitter) and admires him as a disruptor of society. or maybe it’s a tech bro thing idk. retweets his memes but also calls him a sellout for pandering to the masses.

loathes andrew tate for his shallow and illogical takes but agrees with 10% of his misogynistic rhetoric.

posts inflammatory tweets that toe the line between radicalism and satire, carefully wording them to avoid getting banned.

an avid user of letterboxd. some of his reviews are super scathing—but for some reason, they always blow up. he’d open the app to find that his hate review on la la land got 7.2k likes. screenshot compilations circulate on reddit and instagram.

his letterboxd favourites are: american psycho, fight club, the social network and the matrix (all 5 star ratings)—but claims he likes them for their philosophical depth.

his favourite show is mr. robot, saying elliot alderson is “the closest thing to a genius on tv.” he also likes the twilight zone and breaking bad.

obsessed with eminem—he’s been a fan ever since d-12. the marshall mathers lp are his go-to rage anthems. thinks lose yourself is the pinnacle of motivational music.

thinks kanye west is a misunderstood genius and frequently defends him online.

uses dark mode on every device.

apple loyalist. owns a macbook, iphone, and airpods because he appreciates their sleek and minimalistic design. calls android users “peasants.”

never charges his phone until it has like 2% left.

brilliant with tech—can hack into nearly anything. knows how to code in several languages, always staying on top of the latest tech trends and occasionally contributes to dark web forums.

builds custom pcs for fun. dabbles in coding and hacking. knows how to create computer viruses.

used to spend wayyy too much time on forums like 4chan, r/RedPill, r/foreveralone and r/incels, though he’s mostly active on subreddits like r/iamverybadass, and r/unpopularopinion. also lurks r/atheism just to mock people with religion.

frequently visits r/AmITheAsshole to judge people, always siding with the “bad guy.” bro has the potential to be a criminal defense lawyer that the DA despises.

lowkey obsessed with angelina jolie, specifically from her tomb raider days. probably has a pinup poster stashed somewhere in his room.

uses arctic fox’s poseidon blue hair dye.

firmly believes in the efficiency of 3-in-1 body wash, shampoo, and conditioner.

wears dior sauvage because it’s “masculine but sophisticated.” probably bought it after seeing johnny depp in an ad.

when he’s in a mood, kai loves sneaking up on people to startle them. he’s perfected the art of standing silently in doorways until someone notices.

prefers dogs because they’re trainable, loyal, and trusting on their owner. in other words they are easy to manipulate and control.

constantly rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. it’s both a habit and a way to intimidate people.

his lust for power stems from feeling powerless in his youth, particularly after witnessing his father’s abuse to his mother and the lack of control he had over the situation.

struggles to process complex emotions like guilt, shame, or empathy. often suppresses them or redirects them into rage.

swings between grandiosity (believing he’s destined for greatness) and crippling self-doubt (thinking he’s fundamentally unlovable)

finds it almost impossible to open up emotionally unless it’s to manipulate someone.

criticism, even minor, eats away at him. he’ll stew over it for days, replaying it in his head while devising ways to “prove them wrong.”

gets uneasy if someone expresses affection without clear reason—suspects ulterior motives.

goes online to stalk whoever winter’s dating at the time. sends cryptic, vaguely threatening texts from a burner number or straight up dox them. half of it is for shits and giggles, the other half is rooted in jealousy.

he’s attracted to girls who are intelligent and opinionated. independent but emotionally vulnerable, so he can swoop in and “save” them (he has a saviour complex). loyalty is non-negotiable, and she has to make him feel like her top priority.

anyone resembling winter is immediately his type, but he’d never admit it.

freakishly good at darts and chess.

knows how to pick locks and also, how to build a perfect pipe bomb.

his clown mask is inspired by satan in dante’s divine comedy (based on this convo with @porcelainlipgloss)

alternates between ice-cold showers and scalding hot ones depending on his mood.

drums his fingers or shakes his leg while sitting. can spin a pen around his fingers like a pro. learned it during boring college lectures and now does it absentmindedly.

can’t stand slow walkers, or when someone scrapes a fork on their teeth. his reactions to these are disproportionate and borderline hostile.

prone to road rage.

has read elliot rodger’s manifesto once, mostly out of curiosity and boredom, but ended up getting weirdly immersed in it. he disagreed with the bravado and entitlement, though—he finds it pathetic and would mock it, but still, he couldn’t put it down. deep down, he understands the mindset too well, which makes him uncomfortable.

selectively polite. says “please” and “thank you” when it benefits him but will completely ignore social etiquette in other situations, like cutting lines or taking the last slice of pizza.

his workout playlist consists of nine inch nails, rammstein. aggressive rap like eminem (“till i collapse” is a staple) and dmx. sometimes mixes in orchestral movie scores (the dark knight rises soundtrack pumps him up)

brushes his teeth aggressively, so his toothbrushes always wear out quickly.

loves gas station beef jerky and bags of plain popcorn with way too much salt.

doesn’t drink often, claiming alcohol dulls the mind. but when he does, it’s always something hardcore like everclear or absinthe. has a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance.

can literally live off black coffee or monster zero ultra (white can). claims he doesn’t need caffeine, but drinks it constantly because he “likes the bitterness.”

his handwriting is pretty neat, but only when he’s focused—otherwise, it’s chicken scratch.

loves the smell of gasoline and sharpies.

can’t sit his ass down during phone conversations—kai paces back and forth like a caged animal.

rarely gets more than four hours of sleep.

and when he does sleep, he sleeps on his stomach with one arm dangling off the bed.

sleep talks under extreme stress.

secretly likes it when someone takes care of him. whether it’s bandaging a cut or insisting he eats when he’s been working too hard, he fucking melts. he’ll complain about being babied, but it’s a front.

[airbendertendou]

RUN2U! ♥︎ rk900

synopsis : being the resident “ human nurse “ [medic for human officers] means you're on-call 24/7. except no one really needs you and they let you know that.

cw : imagined nines a little monstorous so hes really big and noticeably non-human ; medic!reader except idk anything abt nursing ; cussing ; gavin is mean sorry if hes your fave </3 , a lot of mentions of guns nd violence

song inspo ; run2u by stayc

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

hiring you wasn't the smartest idea, hank thinks. you were sweet ; kind and soft and too nice to deal with the assholes on this team. inviting you to active crime scenes was beyond stupid. allowing you to sit in the back of a car, small, useless medkit in your lap as you wait for the okay.

it's safe — the lost, wild deviant has either run off or is dead! hank shakes his head — they're lucky no harm, has come to you. yet.

gavin scoffs, shoving past you harshly as you hold a chilled ice pack out to him. blinking, you drop the pack, opting to grab a stained cloth instead.

hank smiles stiffly, allowing you to wipe the blue blood off of his face. you let out a sigh as you do so, drooping slightly at the usual mistreatment you recieve. "are you hurt anywhere, lieutenant?"

"not this time," he answers. working with — taking down — deviants was never a clean, easy job. it got even worse when nines joined — he was adament that problems be taken care of. your lips tilt up the smallest amount as you pull the rag away. "thanks, [name]. we're almost done here."

you simply nod, holding in your yawn as the night drags on. heavy, perfect footsteps crunch on the ground until they're standing in front of you. icy, steel eyes peer down at you as nines stares. there's a splatter of blue on his uniform ; on his hands, his gun, his face. you clutch the bloodstained rag in your hands with a gulp, hiding the movement with your bag.

"[name]." he holds his gun out to you, the barrel facing him. "dispose of this."

"i don't—" your fingers tangle deeper into the silly medkit you hold. his head tilts, blue eyes held onto yours as his inidicator turns yellow for a split second. "i wouldn't know what to do with it."

nines allows his arm to go limp, the empty gun falling to his side. "what do you do, then?"

you think you can hear gavin snort — can hear the other detectives laugh at your frozen form. what did you do? what use were you as an on-call medic for people who didn't even need you? "um—“

his indicator swirls again, "[name]?"

"i help," you say it weakly, loosening your grip on your bag. your eyes grow unfocused, blurring as you focus on a tree in the distance. hank angles his body to you as another cop talks to him. "when people are hurt. i help."

"okay," is drawled out as hands fall onto your shoulders. nines watches as hank leads you to the back of his car, the door open as you continue to stare at nothing. your heart rate has went down, but you seem stuck. hank goes back to nines, "cool it with the ten degree, okay? kid's jus' doin' what was told."

he upset you. it lingers in nines' head like an echo. something he did or said made you sad, or angry. he wasn't sure of which yet. looking at you as you sulk in the back of the car, nines thinks to earlier. you cleaned deviant blood off of hank — maybe that would make you feel better?

when your vision becomes clearer, all you see is white. a white suit stained blue in various spots. you blink, looking up until you see a poised, structured face. "yes?"

nines crouches, kneeling until his face is in line with your torso. iced eyes peer up at you as his hands fall to his knees stiffly. eyes dig into him, but all the android cares for are yours. "i... require help."

your lips fall open in shock as you watch this prim, postured detective ruin his suit and his reputation for you. clearing your throat, you take the bloodstained cloth from your medkit shakily.

tender, practiced strokes to his face cause nines' eyes to flutter shut. if he had real skin, it would prickle with chills — the heat from your skin was bouncing into his slowly. nines all but sinks into the feeling ; sinks deeper into the dampened ground.

"are you hurt anywhere, detective?" your voice brings him back. the sound of his title on your lips causes another shutter to flow through him. dazed, nines doesn't even realize his indicator slowly darkening, turning orange with the human emotions he feels. "nines?"

and then your bare hand is on his cheek — nines short circuits.

a bright, ungodly shade of blue colors his cheeks ; his nose ; all the way up to his ears. a livlier, warmer shade of blue than his cold eyes. nines lets out a loud, unneeded stutter of breath.

“no,” he breathes, “i’m okay. thank you, [name].”

——♥︎——

how out of character was he nd don’t lie ): hope this was okay, thank you for reading, ♥︎ if you’d like to be tagged / untagged in any dbh content, let me know!!

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.