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forsakenoathkeeper · 4 years ago

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I Am Alive (chapter 10/?)

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

Please support me on AO3 & thanks for reading ♥

The following morning, you were called into the police station to finalize the documents from yesterday's investigation. All they needed was a pen and ink signature.

Connor had been in conversation with another detective when you walked in; so, you decided not to bother him.

On your way out, you spotted Connor seated across from Hank. At first, you thought he was lost in his computer screen; however, he spun around to greet you as you approached, rising to his feet with a smile.

"Do you have eyes in the back of your head?" you teased.

"I do not. I saw the documents register to the case and knew you were finished," he answered, a little robotically. His tone didn't quite match the soft look on his face.

You stepped in a little closer, looking up at him with expecting eyes.

"I-" Connor cleared his throat. "-was unsure if you were alright with public displays of a-"

You reached for his tie, slid your fingers around the smooth velvet right above the clip, and gave a light tug. It forced Connor to bend down, just a little bit, and brought his mouth within range for yours.

You closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss with a smile, silencing him. He reciprocated, gently, closing his own eyes. It lasted barely a second and was hardly anything compared to what you had done last night; but, it left your tummy swarming with butterflies.

People could see.

Connor's coworkers could see.

Good.

"Ah, geez," Hank grimaced, rising to his feet. "Get a room."

You parted from Connor with a little giggle. When you released Connor's tie, he fixed it promptly, though it had hardly moved at all. It was impossible to miss the adorable, dorky smile he was trying not to wear.

"Damn kids," Hank grumbled as he walked away, coffee cup in hand.

"Are you heading back to work?" Connor asked softly, still standing close.

"Yeah, I better get back there before they have a kitten..." you trailed off when Connor's gaze shifted away from you and looked over your shoulder. The soft look in his eyes vanished, replaced with something cold.

"It's nice to see you again, detective."

You rotated around, following Connor's gaze.

This man's face had once been plastered over every magazine cover for business, wealth, and technology. Anyone who knew even a little bit about androids knew who he was: piercing blue eyes, a strong jawline, dressed impeccably.

Elijah Kamski, the inventor of androids. Two men were standing nearby, dressed as sharply as he was: lawyers, most likely.

"What are you doing here?" Connor asked. His cold tone didn't go unnoticed. It actually startled you a little.

Elijah was Connor's creator, even if he hadn't been working at Cyberlife at the time of Connor's inception. Some hostility was to be expected; but, somehow you doubted it was that simple. It sounded like Connor had history with Elijah.

"I've been asked to answer questions about Charles Reaves," he answered, seemingly uninterested in the whole thing. "I'm not entirely surprised to see you here - comfort zones, and all."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I enjoy being a detective," Connor replied, not bothering to mask his irritation. When Connor spoke was when you realized how close he was standing beside you. You could practically feel his voice modulator rumbling against you.

Something about Elijah really bothered him.

"Of course," Elijah replied. His eyes landed on you. "-and who might you be?"

You gave your name, followed with, "I'm an artificial biomechanical engineer."

"A fancy way of saying you work on androids. Wonderful. I haven't gotten to spend time with someone of a similar profession in a long time," Elijah replied, sounding oddly sincere. You doubted that your professions were anything similar.

You extended your hand, offering it to Elijah out of common courtesy. However, when Elijah reached for you, another hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

Connor's hand.

Your eyes shot up to the android, surprised by his actions. His LED was a strong yellow and his eyes were sharp, almost glaring at the man across from him. Elijah didn't seem at all bothered. In fact, he let out an amused laugh and started to smile.

He pulled his hand back and Connor let go.

"I thought you told me what you wanted wasn't important?" he stated, more so than asked, voice low, ensuring that others in the crowded room wouldn't be able to hear. It was clear that he was challenging Connor.

Your eyes moved back to Elijah, confusion heavy in your glance. His icy blue eyes shifted back to you for a second and then back up to Connor's fierce brown orbs. The implication made you nervous.

"You've changed," Elijah stated, sounding pleased by the discovery.

There was a retort ready to leave Connor's throat. He was interrupted, however.

"If you're done dicking off, Connor, there's work to be done," Fowler called out to him from the steps right outside his office.

Connor looked over his shoulder and gave his superior a curt nod.

"I better go," he said, rotating back around to look down at you.

When your eyes caught Connor's, it was suddenly easy to ignore Elijah, who was still standing there.

"Go catch some baddies," you replied, encouragingly.

Something danced behind Connor's eyes and his LED eased back to blue. You thought he was going to swoop down and steal a kiss; but, he didn't, turning away and walking past Elijah. He glanced at him briefly, a warning as he passed by, before disappearing into the precinct.

"Mr. Kamski we must-" one of Elijah's lawyers tried catching his attention.

Elijah lifted his hand, harmless, but arrogant, and the lawyer immediately stopped talking.

"I was hoping I could talk to you, actually?" he asked you, voice polite, sincere.

"I appreciate the interest, Mr. Kamski. But, I promise I'm not interesting," you replied stoically.

"I disagree," he replied with a quiet laugh. "You are an item with an android. I find that very interesting." It was kind of scary, really, how charming Elijah sounded. He sounded like he really meant it. "Please, humor me for a bit. If there's anything I can do for you in return...?"

You blurted the first thing that came to mind, doubting Elijah would ever consider it. "With the protests - lots of androids are afraid to look for help and supplies are limited as it is with Cyberlife's shutdown."

The corner of Elijah's lip curled slightly. "You want to help them?"

"Yes," you replied firmly. "I want parts for repairs - thirium pump regulators, memory units - things that are hard to get."

"That can be arranged."

"How do I know you're good for it?" you dared to ask.

Elijah laughed quietly, briefly. "I suppose you'll just have to trust me."

You briefly pondered exactly what the hell this man was planning on asking you. He was a millionaire, a super genius who created artificial intelligence and fully operational android skeletons.

You just repaired them. What could he possibly want to talk to you about?

Your thoughts wandered to Markus and Simon, and the many androids that were potentially going without repairs. Even if they couldn't feel pain, they didn't deserve to be broken, to be unable to speak, or hear, or see, or walk.

"Okay," you replied lowly. "I'll humor you."

Elijah nodded with a smile. "It wasn't too cold today. May we?"

He gestured to the hallway that led to the main entrance. You led the way, walking past him and heading for the grounds.

Elijah was right. The weather outside wasn't too bad. The air was crisp and chilly, but not unbearable. You were doing just fine in your jacket. Clouds were looming in the distance; but, they weren't going to make it before you were done.

The courtyard outside the station wasn't particularly impressive, but it was empty, and you and Elijah fit just fine on one of the benches.

For a moment, Elijah's focus was elsewhere. He seemed to be thinking, trying to decide where he wanted to begin. You felt small seated next to him.

Without taking a break or skipping a beat, Elijah asked, "are your desires because of what he is or in spite of it?"

"You want to talk to me about my relationship with Connor?" you blurted, surprised. You met Elijah's gaze uneasily.

He didn't budge. His expression suggested that he didn't see it as strange in the slightest. It wasn't what you were expecting. Then again, Elijah Kamski was one of the leaders of android inception. He was their creator, almost exclusively.

You were sitting with the man who made Connor's life possible.

That thought struck you like a hand across the face.

"I do," Elijah answered.

"I-..." you stuttered.

The obvious answer was on the tip of your tongue. But, was it the truth? You loved the android parts of him: the way his LED shimmered with emotion, the quirks of an android learning to adapt to human society, the unique way he talked, how powerful he was, the beautiful construction of his body, inside and out.

But, you also loved the parts of him that were not dictated by what he was: his kindness, his passion, his curiosity.

"Android or human isn't the point. I'm with Connor because I want to be - because I like who he is, regardless of the what."

"I see," Elijah replied softly. Something in the way he said that suggested he didn't quite believe you.

You frowned at him, but decided against arguing with him. It wouldn't have been entirely in good faith. You knew that your feelings for Connor were physical, too: both the android aspects and the parts that imitated a human.

"Why did you choose to be an engineer - specifically for androids?" Elijah asked. "It's a fairly new profession, for obvious reasons, and you're very young."

Elijah couldn't have been more than 40 years old, if you recalled correctly from the countless essays you had to write in college. He wasn't that much older than you. Yet, somehow, he managed to make you feel like a child.

You doubted the inventor of androids would be alarmed by your answer.

"Because I don't like people," you answered plainly.

If anything, he liked that answer. Through a smile, Elijah replied, "are they not people?"

Once upon a time, you weren't so sure. But, then, you saw their suffering, had been suffocated by the fear in their eyes. You saw them plead and beg for help. You had seen androids, designed with very clear instructions, offer unnecessary kindness that most humans never did.

"They're better," you spat back.

"Logic and reason above feelings?" he asked.

"They do feel," you challenged.

"How can you know for certain?" Elijah tilted is head a little, suspicion in his tone more so than doubt. It sounded like he was trying to plant a seed of distrust. "How do you know that androids are capable of real emotions and not just imitating what they've seen?"

"Humans are capable of the same fucking thing," you snarled. "Pretending to give a shit when they don't. When an android does it, it's programming. When a human does it, it's just fucking normal, right? What difference does it make?"

Elijah's eyes burned brightly, admiring the passion in your voice.

"What are you getting at, anyway?" you added on sharply.

"I made androids to make our lives better: they care for our children, our elderly, grow our food, do dangerous jobs, protect us... and fuck us."

You had read lots of articles about Elijah Kamski, saw many news outlets cover him. He had proclaimed many times that he designed androids to make everyone's lives better. He promised they were not capable of thought beyond their instructions.

"Many debate their intentions. If they can choose beyond their programming," Elijah continued, as if he had read your mind. Or, maybe, you just knew where he was going with this.

"Deviancy," you observed.

You looked away from Elijah, losing the tolerance for the ways his eyes burned into yours.

"Androids are perfect: beautiful, strong, compa-"

"Are you wanting me to tell you that I have a robot kink?"

Elijah huffed out laughter, brief and quiet.

"I won't pretend that Connor's not so beautiful that it fucking hurts," you whispered harshly, feeling ashamed. You dragged a heavy hand through your hair. "But that's not all. He's kind. He wants to protect people: androids and humans. He doesn't see it as their side and our side. He-... He's different. The way he sees the world, I want to see it, too."

"Maybe, then, you see why I'm fascinated by you," Elijah stated, standing up. Your eyes followed him, and you realized he was just casually stretching.

"Why do you find this so strange? Two people who want to be together - what's so weird about that?"

Elijah turned around, hands buried in his coat pockets.

"One was born twenty-something years ago. One was made in a factory a little over a year ago," Elijah answered casually.

"You don't think I've thought about that?" you asked him sharply. "That I haven't fought myself over whether or not this is right?"

Elijah didn't seem bothered by your moral dilemma.

"I'm sure you're well aware that all androids process at a faster rate than humans. They awake capable of comprehending things the average adult can... and then some. Your moral dilemma is pointless. I know they will bring humanity to places we couldn't even imagine..."

"-but you're fascinated with whether or not they can love," you deadpanned.

"I'm fascinated with love between an android and a human," he answered.

There was something unspoken in that observation. You wanted to ask him if he loved his creations, if he cared about their well-being. Elijah had been pretty careful to make no statements during the revolution, oddly enough.

"This couldn't possibly be worth your time, or money, Mr. Kamski," you uttered, suddenly sounding quite tired.

He chuckled sincerely. "Just look at it as... humoring someone who gained everything and... lost everything."

Another statement with something unspoken beneath. Did he mean Cyberlife? Elijah had departed from the company of his volition, if the news was to be believed. Maybe he experienced a moral dilemma. Or, maybe, if Charles Reaves was anything to go by, a difference in opinions.

"Before..." you began, deciding to take a gamble. "-when I first went to school for androids. I just thought they were interesting. Like spending company with humans without all the bullshit. I didn't think... they actually... felt anything."

You paused and let out a heavy sigh. It brought shame to you, admitting this. You thought about Connor, about Markus, about the many androids that came in and out of the clinic on a daily basis.

"My first job, I repaired manufacturing androids. These guys came in with their arms hacked to bits, covered in dents, legs falling off, torsos torn in two, singed and burnt to a crisp. Any job that risked injury, that's what they did."

You dragged a heavy hand through your hair. "Some of them were really afraid they were going to die."

You paused when you failed to suppress a sniffle and hastily wiped your tears on your sleeve. "I realized... I was wrong. I wasn't an engineer; I was a nurse... But, no one else saw them that way. Until-... The deviant uprising and I - I wanted to do something I was proud of for a change."

Elijah turned back around to face you, his expression unreadable. He was quiet, taking in the sight of you, seemingly touched by your empathy.

You wiped your tears away hastily and added on gruffly, "-and then I met Connor and now you're here asking me these fucking questions."

Elijah smiled again, his lip twisted like he didn't want to laugh.

"You're a liar, by the way," you accused, changing the subject.

Elijah didn't look offended, but intrigued.

"You said they can't develop consciousness or desires," you explained, remembering his speech quite well because you had to write about it.

You expected Elijah to say something about your accusation. You doubted he would defend himself, maybe dance around the subject, since that seemed to be his preferred method.

"You would know all about that," he stated, amused.

Before you could reply, Elijah continued. "I know this all seems pointless to you; but, I'm glad I met you. You put me at ease."

You frowned at Elijah's statement. "I don't see how: we did all this talking and nothing came of it."

His expression changed. He looked understanding, maybe even sympathetic.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm not always direct... The world's more interesting when there's questions needing answers. I wanted to see what became of the RK800; but, I didn't expect you."

You had a feeling you were blushing, being spoken about in this manner.

"His purpose is unique: an android designed to hunt deviants. If his blueprints had never been destroyed, maybe they could have made one incapable of deviancy: would have been the perfect soldier."

You stiffened when you heard Elijah's claim.

Connor was designed to-... what?

You didn't want Elijah to think this was news to you.

"His blueprints?" you uttered.

"Yes. Connor is-" Elijah answered lowly. "-the last of his series."

Talking about Connor like this stirred up unpleasant feelings in your gut.

"He is different from any other android," Elijah explained. When you looked up at him, you could see something akin to sadness in his eyes. "How isolating the world must be when you were made to hunt your own kind."

Connor wasn't alone. He had Hank. He had you-

But, this wasn't about you, or humans for that matter. This was about Connor. You had never seen him spend time with other androids, or with anyone besides Hank. He always drowned himself in his job. Maybe, Connor was lonely, and you had been too busy keeping him to yourself to notice.

"Fuck-" You wiped your eyes again and swallowed a whimper.

"I'm sorry for bringing you to tears," Elijah apologized. He sounded like he meant it. "Making you upset wasn't my intention."

Elijah was quiet for a moment, giving you a chance to calm yourself down.

"I'm afraid I've avoided at least ten phone calls during our conversation..." Elijah pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and eyed it grossly. "If we never meet again, I want you know that I valued this conversation dearly."

"Mr. Kamski," you blurted, before he could turn away. "Before you go, did-... Did you program them afraid to die?"

"No," he answered quietly, not even hesitating. "The will to live... It was an unexpected outcome."

...

Back at the apartment, Connor came in just after you had finished eating dinner. He greeted you with a kiss and turned away. Part of you didn't want to worry him, especially when he had an android homicide that was likely linked to Charles Reaves. That was another issue entirely; but, you promised yourself that you would be honest with him.

"I have to tell you something," you beckoned to him, grabbing his sleeve to stop him from retreating.

Connor turned back around to face you, eyes focused on yours, concerned.

"I spoke with Kamski after you left. He told me what you were made for."

Something akin to panic danced behind Connor's eyes. It was subtle; but, it was definitely there.

"I'm sorry, Connor. You should have gotten the chance to tell me yourself. I shouldn't have found out that way."

Connor struggled to maintain eye contact with you. His LED was yellow, spinning against his temple. He seemed to be searching his thoughts for what he wanted to say. "I don't know if I would have told you, honestly," he uttered lowly, turning away from you. "It's something I really... really regret."

"We all regrets things, Connor - bad choices we made, mistakes. It's norm-"

When he turned back to you, shame and anger were written over his face. You were a little frightened by that face - a face you hadn't seen Connor make before.

"I called androids 'its'. I - I treated them like machines - like things - my own kind. I destro- murdered - androids for being deviant."

"You were under control, Connor," you argued fiercely. "What choice did you have? You didn't have a choice! You did what you thought you had to do. That wasn't you, Connor."

"It's what I was made to do," he challenged. "It's what I knew how to do. I was good at it. How is that any better?" His tone was as calm as it usually was, but had some bite and venom to it. He was gesturing to himself with his hands, fingers pointed at his own chest.

"I was proud," he continued, volume rising slightly. "Good job, Connor. You stopped the deviants like a good machine!" He was taunting himself now. It hurt you to listen to him mock himself. "You did EXACTLY what you were told to do, without question."

You sniffled, trying to bite back tears.

Connor raked his fingers roughly through his hair before dropping them down to his sides. "I would say... 'I'm a machine designed to accomplish a task' - and I was proud of it. 'You can't kill me - I'm not alive'." Connor had a peculiar way of quoting himself, like he was talking about someone he didn't know.

"I was going to find the source of the deviants and stop them!" he added on, frustration and volume rising. "I held a gun to Markus' face! I contemplated letting Hank DIE for my mission. That's all that mattered - the fucking mission. It's not just regret! I'm a mach-"

"You didn't have a choice!" you practically screamed, silencing him. You felt it, the first tear fall.

Connor's eyes watched that teardrop slide down your cheek and the fire in his eyes extinguished. Realization struck him like he had just been slapped across the face. He was letting everything out on you, letting his regrets pour out and drown you.

"I could never understand what that feels like-" you paused, trying to hold back a sob. "What it was like to be p-put through that, Connor. To not see yourself as a living being - to think that you weren't alive - that your life didn't fucking matt-guh-!"

You choked back a sob, making a guttural noise. Your head lowered into your hands.

You could feel the android looming over you, close, protective, worried; but, when you looked up at him through tear-stained eyes, he seemed almost afraid to touch you, like he wasn't allowed to. Regret was written across his face again; but, this time, it was a different reason.

He had yelled at you when you hadn't done anything wrong-

He was taking it all out on you-

You took that initiative and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin touched, Connor laced your fingers like you were his only lifeline saving him from drowning in the ocean. He looked like he was drowning, like he was lost.

"You were a prisoner in your mind, Connor," you whimpered. "I'm glad that you're deviant," you whispered, trying to stop the tears. "I'm so proud to be yours..."

Connor surrendered, leaning in to let his temple touch yours. His eyes fluttered shut.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled," he rasped.

"I'm not crying because you were yelling," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "The thought of you not caring about yourself - thinking you weren't alive: that hurt me. Connor, I-..."

You wretched your hand free on his so you could wrap your arms around his back and pull him into an embrace. Connor's face slipped from your temple and sunk into your neck. His hands grabbed fistfuls of the back of your shirt and clung to you for dear life.

You pressed your cheek into his hairline and leaned against him. As always, Connor was solid, unrelenting against your force, holding up your weight with ease.

"I am alive," he uttered against your skin, like he was reminding himself of something important. "I am alive," he said again, his voice cracking.

You felt wetness on your skin and knew that he was crying. You squeezed him tighter and tighter, until it started to hurt. You pressed a wet kiss to his temple before resting your cheek against the soft skin there.

No one could tell you this wasn't real.

Flesh and plastic.

Blood and thirium.

Bones and metal.

It didn't change the hurt in his voice or the adoration in his eyes. It didn't change the way he couldn't hold back a smile when he was praised. It didn't change the way his hands held you when you were afraid. It didn't change his inquisitive nature or the care he held for others.

It didn't change-

-that you were madly in love with him.

#connor x reader #deviant connor #deviant connor x reader #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #rk800 smut #connor smut

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connorandersons-blog · 4 years ago

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Kinktober day 17: Mirror sex, RK1K

Ok, this is VERY IMPORTANT!!! This has very heavy angst in it along with major self-hate. There is talks over dying or saying he should have died. Also there is established Markus/Simon with a hint of Markus/Simon/Connor at the very end. I just wanted to give a warning about the heavy angst. Also, this one was inspired by the song Creep so obviously that's a lot of not fun times akjsdhkal

Anyway, hope you enjoy!!

Everyone knew Markus was extraordinary, the whole world got to see that with his peaceful revolution. Connor had seen it when he first saw his speech. When he had lied to Hank about not noticing anything else.

Markus had easily forgiven him without even knowing the full extent of what he's done and almost did. He couldn't meet his eyes, too ashamed of his past even as Markus pulled him into a comforting embrace.

Markus seemed to know so much, he could do so much and he fit in. He stood out uniquely, but it wasn't like he wasn't supposed to be alive. Call it whatever you want, fate or destiny, he was meant to be alive.

But Connor wasn't. He didn't belong with the humans, being an android and ultimately betraying them when he became deviant and freed those androids.

He didn't belong with the androids, having done too much damage to even consider that possibility. He even felt guilty about staying with Hank. The man had enough on his plate.

Markus had his friends though, he didn't need Connor. He tried to be the best version of himself. He tried to be calm and stoic, posture perfect, and speaking only when spoken to. Yet he still faded into the shadows as Markus and his friends laughed together and fought together.

He didn't tell anyone where he was staying, well he wasn't exactly staying anywhere. He would charge at the free stations, and wandered the streets the nights he didn't need to.

He only did what was necessary and expected of him. He went to work once he was allowed, he was… he was cold. He could tell others were shocked, he acted more like a machine than he had before he deviated. Reed got even more aggressive, blatantly trying to start fights. He tried to end it peacefully but he often had to restrain him in some way, but he never pressed charges for assault.

Hank tried to get him to open up but only met a cold wall. Eventually, he didn't try as hard. He wouldn't give up on him, not completely, but it was hard to keep trying when it seemed like Connor wanted nothing to do with him.

Markus had tried the same thing, but again Connor only did what was necessary. Why would anyone actually want him around when he was a murderer? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer after all.

It broke his heart. Maybe he just wasn't supposed to be friends or have anyone love him. Maybe this was his punishment. It was a fitting one, take away the thing he wanted the most. A life for a life. Or in this cause, a life for lives. Too many lives.

He tried, he really did. He didn't know why being perfect wasn't working. It only seemed to push everyone away from him. He wanted to hold Markus again, be in his warm arms. He had felt so safe there. He'd run to him but that wouldn't be fair.

He had imagined being together, how wonderful it would be. But that would never happen. It would never happen especially when Markus and Simon started dating. They were perfect for each other. So god damn perfect. Everyone could see they were meant for one another.

Simon was sweet and caring and he never murdered anyone. He was so patient and even treated Connor just as kind as he treated everyone else.

Connor couldn't hate him. He just couldn't.

Connor wasn't meant for anyone. He wasn't meant for life or love or happiness. He knew that now and accepted it.

But maybe he could find someplace that would at least tolerate him, and so he left. He never got to see how devastated Markus and Simon both were. He didn't see the heartbreak they went through when they couldn't find him. He didn't see Hank break down again but thankfully had enough strength to not end it all.

He only ever saw his own self-hatred. It had clouded his mind so much he never saw how truly special and beautiful he was.

He didn't even leave Detroit, he simply kept to the shadows and his from anyone you may try to look for him. But he kept up with what they were doing after a few months. He knew Hank still went to work, but he decided not to contact him either.

He knew the leaders of Jericho were doing as well as they could, and he tried to help the androids who had nowhere to go. The ones like Connor that were scared and couldn't go to anyone.

He kept this up for years, two years, and six months to be exact. He had been out and about, going to charge up. He had been putting it off for far too long and couldn't wait till the night.

"Connor?" The name had him quickly spinning, already knowing who it was.

He had seen him from afar, he was always so careful to keep out of sight and never be caught. He had been so low he hadn't even noticed. "Markus," he greets politely with a small nod.

"I've been looking for you, all this time I kept looking. Did you… did you even leave the city?" Markus asked, stepping closer.

Connor swallowed and lowered his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry to have troubled you, I know how busy you are."

Markus shook his head quickly. "No, Connor, hey. I don't care how busy I am, you disappeared. Connor, I miss you." He reached forward and before Connor could move away, pulled him into a hug.

Like before. He's so warm and soft, yet still firm. Markus kept him close, squeezing hard enough that it would be uncomfortable for humans. But it was oddly comforting for Connor. He hadn't been touched…Hadn't been hugged for so long. He had imagined being in his arms at least one more time.

He stiffened completely, he couldn't move his arms to hug back. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve Markus looking for him.

"Come with me? We can go to, uh, there's a cafe opened by an android. I can treat you to some." Markus said, pulling back and gently cupping Connor's emotionless face.

He knew the cafe, had helped the woman who made it. "I need to charge." He would, he'd promise to visit Markus but then he'd actually leave. Markus wouldn't need to look for him.

"Ok, they have some at the cafe I think. One you can use without going into stasis." Markus seemed ready to pick Connor up and leave if necessary.

He had to give in, just for a little bit. "Yeah, yeah I'll go with."

Markus sighed and smiled so widely it almost hurt to see. Why was he so happy to see Connor? Connor had done so much wrong, he was made for evil so why did Markus even care?

"Thank you, let's go, it's not a long walk." Markus hooked their arms together and Connor couldn't resist even if he wanted to.

"Weren't you doing something?" Connor asked, and it's so odd to actually be talking to him after so long.

Markus shook his head, keeping them close. "Nothing as important as you. Everything and everyone else can wait."

Not as important as him? That was definitely impossible. Markus was the leader of the androids, literally, everything and everyone was more important. Why couldn't he see that? Why couldn't anyone fucking see that?!

He grits his teeth but didn't argue. No one wanted him to argue back, it made him even less likable than he already was.

"Connor, you can say what's on your mind," Markus says, interrupting his thoughts.

He shook his head and tried to breathe normally. Did Markus always smell this good? He knew he did but it was still a shock to his systems. "No, it is not important."

Markus sighed but didn't press, instead moving away to open the cafe door. Connor smiled just slightly as he saw how well it was still doing. Not only were there androids but there were humans too. He could also see an android and human couple probably on a date. What a cute idea.

"Connor!" A voice boomed out and he shrunk back, trying to hide. He loves her but preferred not to be the center of attention. Which was going to happen anyway with Markus glued to his side. Heads turned and Connor moved back, Markus probably didn't even mean to, but he took a step in front of Connor, shielding him from the curious eyes.

Connor held onto his arm, and Markus gave his hand a slight squeeze. "Hey, it's ok. Does she know you?"

The woman in question quickly walked over, brushing off flour onto her apron. "Yes." He mumbled before squaring his shoulders and stepping forward.

"Hey, baby! You should have visited months ago! You know you're always welcome here and whatever you want is on me." Her voice was loud just like the rest of her personality. But for some odd reason, she adored Connor.

Markus watched the two, confusion clear on his face. How did they know each other? What was Connor even doing with his time?

"I'm sorry, I've been busy. I was actually going to charge before I ran into Markus." He nodded towards Markus who gave a slight nod.

Her eyes widened and she walked up, sticking out her hand. "Welcome! Any friend of Connor's is a friend of mine. Feel free to get anything, it'll be on me as well. Also, thanks for setting us free, that was cool as shit."

Connor bit his lip at the look of shock on Markus's face. He had to hold back the comment that they weren't friends, Connor had none, but knew it would make Markus look sad and he really didn't want that.

Markus took her hand and she practically shook it out of his body. Then she looked around and all but dragged them to a table, grabbing a charger. "There you boys go. Charge on up, you need it. Now, what do you want to eat and or drink?"

The people around them started going back to what they were doing and Connor relaxed just slightly. "I'm ok with whatever extra you have, and whatever drink."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't seem all that shocked at Connor. "Alright kiddo, now what about you hun?"

"Whatever you think is best, Ma'am." He smiled up at her and she nodded.

"Very well! You two enjoy. Connor, I swear you better visit at least once a month or I'll find you and skin you alive." She glared down at Connor before grinning and winking. Connor nodded and watched as she walked off to the kitchen.

"So, you know her?" Markus asks once Connor has himself hooked up to the charging port.

Connor nodded and stared down at the table, even though he wanted to look up at Markus. See everything that had changed and stayed the same up close. See those absolutely beautiful eyes that had his wall he hid behind cracking.

"Can I ask how?" Markus asks once he knows Connor isn't going to elaborate without prompting.

"She needed to be fixed up, so I did. Then she needed money to start the business so I worked a few hard labor jobs and gave her the money." He didn't think it was anything special, he was just doing what he had to.

Yet Markus seemed surprised. "That's amazing Connor! Have you been helping a lot of our people?"

"Your people," Connor mumbled before shrugging. "I try to help those in need. The ones who had no one else to turn to."

Markus reached out and took his hands in his own and placed a finger under Connor's chin and pushed up so he'll finally look up at him. "They are your people too, and you do know you can come to me. Or Anderson, North as well, and Josh and Simon. We all want you home, Connor. You're one of us."

Connor yanked his hands away and placed them in his lap, not meeting his eyes. "They are your people. That isn't my home, I don't have one." He didn't deserve one either. He should be locked up, but the crimes androids committed before deviation were forgiven. But what about all those androids who died because he let the FBI follow him to Jericho? Their blood was on his hands.

"Connor," Markus sighed and reached forward but Connor flinched away. "Please just promise me one thing. It's all I ask."

Connor nodded, he'd at least think about whatever Markus wanted of him. If it was in his power he'd try to do it, but there were some things he could never do.

"Don't leave Detroit. You don't have to come ho-back. But don't leave. You can keep hiding but I'd feel better knowing you were somewhere here." Markus pulled his own hands into his lap as Connor took in a shaky breath.

Not leave Detroit? How did Markus know that's what he was planning? But he had to know that he had been found. He had been far too careless and now he had to leave the one city he knew.

But Markus wanted him to stay. Why did he want him to stay? Was it because he was a liability? Connor had turned off his connections to Cyberlife, even limited his access to the internet in general. He had tried to make himself as harmless as possible, turning off some of his fighting programs as well. He kept a few defensive ones, he did live on the streets after all, but still.

"Connor, please, I can't lose you again." Markus whispers and Connor finally meets his eyes. What he sees there stops his heart. Markus, strong confident Markus, is crying.

"I promise!" He quickly says. He can't stand to see Markus cry, not over him. He can stay in Detroit, but he'll be more careful. He'll take back alleyways instead, he'd gotten far too comfortable to be walking around where anyone can see him.

Connor's hands ache to reach forward and brush away those tears he's caused. But he can't, he just can't seem to move his arm. It's like he was a machine again and forced to follow his programming.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He mumbled, shame covering him like a familiar blanket. He had hurt Markus again and he hadn't meant to!

"No! No, Connor it's ok. I just, we all miss you." Markus said, trying to brush away his own tears, blinking quickly.

"No! No, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He says quickly disconnecting from the charger, standing, and running out. He can hear Markus calling his name but he was faster. He knew the streets better, the ins and outs. So he disappears before Markus can even get out of his seat.

Connor stays hidden for weeks, but he can see Markus looking for him. But it's not just that, Markus *talks* about him. He makes a point to mention the silent heroes and when someone asks if he's mentioning anyone specific, he says yes. Someone who didn't want to be named but someone Markus missed a lot and recently got to see.

All signs pointed to that person being Connor, but he wasn't a hero. Far, far from it.

He doesn't leave Detroit, he'll keep that promise. But it hurts so much. Just as much as it did the first month he had disappeared. He had missed Hank so much, he had missed Sumo, he missed North and Josh and Simon and Markus. But they were better off, safer, without him there.

Then he takes a risk. It had been exactly a month since he saw Markus and the man had a series of paintings in a gallery. It wasn't the first time Markus had done this, his art was often used as a fundraiser to raise money for androids in need.

This was a completely open one to the public. There was something that caught his attention. None of the original paintings would be on sale. They could get a signed copy, but not the original which generally would raise more money.

His curiosity got the best of him. He dressed in plain clothes, hoping to hide in plain sight. Markus would no doubt be there, but Connor could manage to stay out of his radar.

When he gets there it's incredibly crowded which helps but also caused a spike of anxiety. He wasn't fond of huge crowds but it helped hide him.

He looks at the first painting and brings a hand to cover his mouth, eyes wide. Each stroke had a smudging quality that rendered the image watery, like a reflection in a rippled puddle. But he knows what's painted.

It's him.

"Markus… Why?" He mumbled, looking around the room. It's, it's all him. Every single painting is somehow him.

He's beyond overwhelmed at the sight, all the paintings Markus has done. The time he put into each of these. But they aren't all within the last month. Connor can tell some are over a year old. Markus has been painting him for a very long time.

Markus had been painting him since the first time he left.

He walked closer and reached down, running a hand across the dried paint.

"Sir, please don't touch the art." A voice called out and he snatched his hands back. Fuck, how had he forgotten he was at a gallery and others were here too.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled to the security guard who just nodded.

He could feel eyes on him and he quickly looked around, finding the mitch-matched eyes he knew so well.

They stared at each other before Connor ducked his head and left the gallery, knowing Markus wasn't following.

His days seemed to mold together, his mind still so focused on the memory of the paintings. They were all so beautiful, but why did Markus paint him like that?

He wasn't worthy of being painted, especially not by Markus. But the paintings were also not on sale, so Markus didn't want anyone to have them. Maybe he just needed to do another gallery but had nothing else to show, so he found his least favorite works, not even worthy of being bought. Yes, that made more sense.

He was walking around, not exactly sure what to do when he heard a small bark. His head snapped up and he glanced around. He was in an almost completely abandoned parking lot, the pavement having too many holes and no one wanted to pay to have them fixed. There was one car left and he cautiously walked towards it.

What he saw inside made his heart melt. A St Bernard puppy was inside and panting quickly. The weather was far too hot, and it was clear the puppy had been left here for too long.

It was an older car, so he couldn't hack it to get in, but if he didn't somehow get in the puppy would almost certainly die.

He could also see a closed water bottle with the puppy in the back seat, but that would do the dog little good without being able to open it.

The car itself seemed to be barely operational. It could run but definitely not for much longer.

He looked around one more time before elbowing the car window hard enough to crack it in one hit. Thankfully the puppy was smart enough to drag itself to the other side so Connor could break the glass enough to stick his hands in and grab the water and then the puppy.

He sat down against the car, leaning on the tires as he looked over the puppy. How was Sumo doing? He hadn't gotten to see him except for the very few times he caught Hank taking him for a walk.

He opened the bottle and poured a little into his hand, offering it to the puppy who was in his lap. The puppy leaned forward and took one slow lick before quickly lapping up all the water it could get. Connor let it drink the whole bottle before starting to pet the puppy.

He'd need to get it to a vet soon, but for now, the puppy seemed content to nibble on Connor's fingers.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He flinched back at the loudness. "You can't just fucking do that! That's my fucking car you piece of shit!"

He ducks his head, shoulders coming up a little more as if it would protect himself. "I-I'm so-" he had just tried to help! He didn't know the owner would be back so soon, or even back at all!

"No!" The person just waves their hands in an almost 'x' shape in front of them to back up their point "No you can't just fucking do that-" he jabbed a harsh finger at him then at the car "to my fucking property, jackass! What the fuck's wrong with you?!"

He curls into himself more, his thirium pump beating harder and harder. It's like a building had fallen on him and he was struggling under the weight of it. A wave of...of something, something bad- he doesn't- he doesn't know, washes over him.

'Please stop, please stop, please stop, please stop! Someone save me please!' The words repeat in his head as the man yells. He can't, he can't fucking breathe.

He tries to suck in air but nothing is working! He covers his ears but he can still hear the man yelling at him. Shouting at him. He did wrong, he fucked up, he would be punished. They'd all be-she would be-so disappointed.

The car had no AC! The puppy had been locked in there for hours, what the fuck was he supposed to do! "Please stop." He whimpered but it was drowned out by more yelling. So much yelling.

His systems notify him that his message has been sent, but he didn't send one? Unless his pleads accidentally were sent out to someone. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

But then…. Then it stops? There's a sucking crunch and... He's shaking, he knows he is but he can't stop that. He can't look up, he can't uncurl himself. He has to protect the puppy, even if it meant taking whatever beating the man wanted to give out. Connor deserved it after all.

"Leave." The one word pierces through to him and he knows that voice. But why? Why was he here? He wanted Connor to leave. He would, he would leave right now and never come back if he could just get his body to move!

Someone, no, he knew it was Markus, crouched down in front of him. "Hey, Connor it's me, it's Markus, you're safe." His voice is so soft and he can finally look up. But even then he's a burr from the tears that threaten to spill over.

"Markus?" It's so small and quiet, he sounds so broken. He could leave now, he could give the puppy to Markus and run. Run until he was far away from Detroit.

But he doesn't do that. Instead, he falls into Markus' open arms and lets the sobs wrack his body. It was more than crying, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope.

Even though they are almost the same height, Connor feels so small in his hold, the puppy still laying in Connor's lap between them. He clings onto him, hands gripping Markus's suit jacket as he buries his face in his neck.

"I'm s-sorry," he chokes out and keeps repeating it hoping Markus knows he's telling the truth. His breathing was ragged, gasping and the strength left his whole body.

He pulled away, and Markus' had to hide his own tears, especially at the sight of Connor. It was the face of one who had suffered before and didn't know if he could do it again. Then, just when Markus thought the breakthrough would come and he would trust him with his vulnerability, his emotion walled off behind a mask, he didn't know any other way.

He looked down at the puppy and gave it a few scratches before handing it to a shocked Markus. "I'm sorry, I'll leave now."

Markus wanted him to leave, he didn't need to be told twice. He fucked up all over again, he had been trying to be good for so long.

And then strong arms are wrapping around him again and he tried to push away. He's fighting to get out, to get away.

He hit Markus' chest but barely had any strength behind it. He kept hitting and pushing, but it was doing nothing. "Let me go!" He cried out, trying to stand, but Markus pulled him back down and into his lap. Connor had no choice but to fall into him.

"I'll never let you go. I don't want you to leave." Markus mumbled, pulling him so close their bodies were flush against each other. Connor still fights it but much less, the hits are more like lingering touches and Connor's LED is a solid red. Markus gently strokes his hair and Connor wants to melt into him, he really does. But he can't. He doesn't deserve Markus' comfort.

"If you really want me to let go, I will... But...."

"Markus, Markus," he keeps saying his name like a prayer because he's so tired of fighting. He thought he wanted him to leave. He thought he fucked everything up again, caused such a huge scene. Just… he's just… tired.

His body goes into an involuntary stasis and falls limp in Markus' arms. He doesn't know what happens next as the soft nothingness consumes him.

His systems slowly rebooted and he blinked his eyes open. His system had been down for 24 hours exactly, not all too surprising. If it was forced or involuntary it was either 12 or 24 hours until the android woke up.

The room was large with two windows and a desk. It was mostly bare other than that except for the paintings on the wall and a canvas near one of the windows.

Beside him in a chair was Markus, slumped to the side, head resting in his hand asleep. He even had the puppy sleeping in his lap. He looked so peaceful and so at home.

Home. Markus had taken him to his home. Connor knew that when Carl had passed he had given the house to Markus, it was all over the news that Markus was in the man's will even before the revolution.

Connor slowly sat up, making sure to not wake up Markus. He was kind enough to bring him here, but Connor didn't want to be a burden.

Of course, Markus wouldn't leave anyone on the street if they did the equivalent of passing out, it was just something he wouldn't do. He'd even help a criminal if they passed out.

He found a notepad and a pen easily, scribbling down a note and placing it on the bed.

'Thank you for helping me.'

He did what he had been doing almost all his life. He ran once again. He kept in Detroit but he really needed to stop running into Markus so much. It was doing weird things to his head. Like making him imagine a life where the two can curl up together and drink coffee, Markus playing with Connor's hair and humming softly. The light from the sun would stream in and it would be so wonderful.

But he couldn't have that. He could never have that. Someone like him deserved to be living the harshest life he could, but even now that wasn't true. He could be suffering more, the right amount, instead he lets himself get away with things like going to cafes or galleries.

The next time he allowed himself to think of Markus was when he found new art up against the back of a building. It was similar to Markus' style but done in spray paint instead of acrylic or oil.

But there seemed to be something about it. He scanned over it and his systems alerted him that he had a new image. He pulled it up on his hand and couldn't help the small chuckle. God, it felt weird to laugh even for a second. But it was just like the clues to find Jericho.

So he followed it, curious as to what it could be leading him to. It was odd that many of the paintings seemed to show up on abandoned buildings where he would sometimes rest in, but dismissed it as a coincidence since there was more art on places he hasn't been in than ones he had.

When he got close to the final destination he stopped dead in his tracks. It was leading to New Jericho. Of course, it was, Markus probably put these up himself as a way to honor the new Jericho.

He glanced at the next art and his heart stopped just like at the gallery. Once again it was a painting of him, but this time he looked serene and at peace in a person's arms. He couldn't make out who the person was as their head was turned away and no skin or hair was showing.

Markus had left this for him. Why did he want Connor back?! Did he plan on locking him up? If that was the case he could have just told Connor and he would have gone willingly. But this… it was so much like the old Jericho signs.

It was like Markus was trying to show him to safety. That Connor would be safe there, with him.

Connor would be safe with him, he knew that, but Markus wouldn't be safe with Connor. He had too much blood on his hands and would make a clear target if given the chance.

So he turned around and left, not following the rest of the paintings even though he wanted to see what they'd look like. He couldn't risk Markus waiting for him at one of them. He knew it wouldn't take much more for Markus to be able to coax him back to New Jericho.

He honestly does try to stop reading every news article about Markus, and he quickly turns away when he walks past a television and sees him there. But when he goes into a convenience store and sees one magazine he buys it.

He doesn't care about the rest of the articles, he just flips to the one on the front cover.

'Markus's Secret Lover?'

There was no way he'd cheat on Simon, none. He wasn't the kind of guy to do that. This was why so many of Connor's hopes and fantasies burned at him because they were often romantic in nature.

He scans over it and then goes over it again more slowly.

''Simon and I have talked, and we are both open to having another partner. One, in particular, we've talked about, but I'm afraid it won't happen or at least not for a long time.' Markus had said, and everyone in the studio could see the adoration in his eyes.'

What? Who was Markus interested in? Why wouldn't it happen? Anyone would be lucky to have him, Markus was amazing!

He made a scan and confirmed it was a real interview, one that had gained many people's attention. There, of course, was hate over the fact that the two were not monogamous, but Connor rolled his eyes at those. Honestly, after all this time you'd think people would stop caring if someone was gay, straight, or anything else if it didn't involve them. But no, there would always be the bigots.

''Could you maybe describe this special someone?' The interviewer had asked.

'Oh, well I'd rather not give his name. He is a bit shy, and honestly, I think he's really scared currently. I tried to show him, you know? Left him clues but he's always running away from everything. Which is understandable, but I just want him to feel safe and loved like he really is. Because there are so many that really do love and miss him.' The whole room seemed to be shocked, filled-' he stopped reading and had to sit down.

There was no way. This couldn't be real. He looked it up again and saw everyone speculating who it could be. No one guessed him outright, but many suggested whoever it was Markus had painted so much for the gallery.

Everything seemed to be lining up, but it still made no sense. Why Connor? What had he ever done to make Markus like him? To make anyone like him?

Or maybe this was just a ploy to get Connor to go to New Jericho. If it was, then it worked.

He ran the whole way there, not caring who saw him. He had to know if this was real if Markus meant what he said.

He had to know why, if it was real. How was Markus making him doubt everything he believed in? Connor knew he was a terrible person, but Markus made him feel almost good.

He didn't stop running until he was standing in front of the large doors of what used to the Cyberlife tower.

People moved around him, not even glancing his way. Other than the conspiracy theories a very small few people had come up with about his disappearance, no one seemed to remember him. It was like he never existed. Like he was a ghost.

Then one person catches his eye in the building. "Hank." He mumbled.

It's almost like the man hears him, but Connor knows that's impossible, but he turns and their eyes lock. Connor can see him mouth Connor's name just like he had and then Connor's pushing through the doors and Hank runs at him.

Hank engulfs him in a hug and Connor can feel him shaking. "Son." He mumbled, and Connor knows he's crying.

Connor doesn't hug back, but he doesn't try to pull away either. His eyes are wide, he hadn't ever seen Hank cry, not like this.

Then Hank grabs his shoulders and pulls back, shaking him gently. "Don't you ever fucking leave again, I can't lose another son." His voice cracks at the last word and Connor doesn't know what to do.

Lose another… Did Hank think of him as a son? But why? He'd only caused the man trouble and even made the man lose his job because he punched that FBI bitch.

"I don't… What?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"You fucking heard me, don't you dare leave. Where the hell have you been?! You didn't leave a message, just off and disappeared, I thought you were dead but Markus said he could still try to contact you, some connection or whatever. I've been looking for you!" Hank is raising his voice and Connor starts to shake. But Hank thankfully noticed and his voice softened. "You scared me, kid."

"I'm sorry." He whispered, staring down at the ground. "I'm so sorry, I thought… I thought you–everyone–would be better off without me, be safer." He really did but now, fuck. Now he saw how upset everyone was even after all this time. He'd done so much damage without even being there, he had done the damage from not being there.

"No! No, I'm so sorry we made you, fuck, I'm sorry we made you feel that way. I never meant for that to happen, Connor, you have to know none of us wanted you to leave. We've been looking for you this whole time, kid." Hank sighed and pulled him back into a hug, much gentler this time.

Connor felt him start to cry and he couldn't hold back his own tears. He had missed him so much, he had walked up to Hank's house so many times, hand raised to knock on the door but always backed down.

He had heard Sumo barking at him and he wanted to just bury his face in his fur and stay there all day.

Now he's wondering why he hadn't even left a message. Why hadn't he let anyone know he was alive?

No, he knew why. Because he was better off dead, he wanted to disappear and thought everyone would forget him. But the ones he thought couldn't care less never forgot and always kept looking.

"Hank, oh god I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I fucked it all up, I'm so sorry." He cried, clinging to the man.

"Shhh, it's ok son, you're here now. I'm not gonna let you out of my sight. You'll either stay here or with me, no arguing ok? I'm sure Sumo misses you too." Hank pulls back and reaches up to wipe away Connor's tears. "You ok, kid?"

Connor nodded and hugged him again, not ready to let go, not again. He'd been gone for so long, he missed so much, and now… was he really going to stay? With how Hank was holding him, it didn't seem like he'd have much choice in the matter. Hank would probably start a manhunt himself if Connor disappeared again.

"Yeah… I don't know. I came to see Markus? But, uh, I'm really happy I think to see you." Even now after so long he still struggled with them and identifying them.

But he was happy, he thinks, to finally see Hank again and talk.

"Wait, holy shit!" He heard and pulled back, glancing at the voice he knows well too. "It is! You absolute motherfucker!" North shouts, stomping up to him.

Connor shrinks back and hides slightly behind Hank. He isn't scared of her, but he hated the yelling. She keeps her eyes on him and seems to stall at the look on his face.

Then tears well up in her own eyes and she breaks into a run, tackling him to the floor. She makes sure to put a hand behind Connor's head so he won't get hurt and wraps her whole body around him.

Many people are now looking over. Some seem to look shocked once they recognize Connor, others seem just plain confused. It wasn't like many new Connor other than as the deviant hunter or the one who freed the androids from the very tower they were in.

North held him tightly with her whole body, legs wrapped around him. "You motherfucker, why the hell haven't you come back?" She asked, pulling away, but still sitting on top of him.

Connor swallowed and stared up at her. Out of everyone he expected North to miss him the least or not even care. She had every reason to hate him, and he thought she did.

But maybe picking on him had been her way of showing affection. He thought she just was trying to tell him to get lost without outright saying it. "I'm sorry." He was starting to sound like a broken record, but he had no idea what else to say.

She huffed and shook her head. "Yeah, well Markus is gonna shit bricks. I figured it was you he was talking about but no one wanted to get too hopeful. Now, I'm gonna get off you and we're gonna go see loverboy. Hank, you're coming too."

"No need to tell me twice, I'm letting him out of my sight," Hank grumbled and Connor smiled just slightly.

"Wait, Hank why are you here?" Not to mention the fact he still had a gun on him along with a taser and a new weapon that was used to take down androids without doing any extra damage.

"There's a lot to catch you up on, but I help head security here. Helped keep my head on, doing something." North got off and Hank offered a hand, which Connor took.

He was beyond proud that Hank had found something to do instead of drinking all day. No doubt Jericho needed it, and Hank was especially qualified. Connor wouldn't trust anyone else with Markus's and their–Markus's people.

North hooked her arm around Connor's and started walking towards the elevator. The whole place was redecorated enough that he could barely recognize it. He even saw a few child models drawing on the walls with what was probably washable markers. He had no doubt Markus encouraged them.

It might have changed a lot but the moment he stepped in he remembered the feel of the gun going off in his hand and then the scent of fresh human blood being spilled.

He kept telling himself the bullet did it. The bullet killed them. But his brain knows that he pulled the trigger. He's the one that murdered them without even knowing their names. Did they have families they'd never go home to? Kids who waited for their dad to walk through that door one more time?

He could remember the stench of blood that filled the elevator, how he didn't even pause. He had still been so very machine-like, deviation was a slow process after all. Just because he broke through the code didn't mean he didn't follow his basic programming.

How long did it take them to clean up the blood? Would there be any traces of it left? He couldn't scan to find out, vision blurry from something. Who had to tell their families they had died. That the person responsible wouldn't go to jail, instead got to walk free.

"Connor, come back to us." A voice said, and a hand gently took his own. He snatched it back and looked around.

The blood and bodies were gone and all that was left was North and Hank looking at him worriedly.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled and gladly left the elevator. He kept his head down as the other two filled out before the elevator was closing and moved back down.

"Kid, it's ok. Maybe we can take the stairs next time." Hank offers and Connor can only nod. He had noticed Hank seemed to have lost some weight and gained more muscle back. Once again he was flooded with pride and he tried to smile but knew it didn't look right.

"Ok, so his office is down here. He's talking with Simon and Josh but don't worry, it's not as important." North shrugs and quickly leads them to a pair of closed doors. At least Markus was smart enough not to leave his door opened.

He had the urge to tell her exactly how unimportant he was but bit his tongue. He literally bit his tongue to keep himself from talking.

He stared at the doors, the other two seem to come to the same conclusion that he should be the one to knock.

He raised his fist and went to knock, but instead just pressed his hand against the door. Fuck, why was he doing this? After all this time, he should know better. Yet he ached to go in there and kiss… no, not kiss. Simon was there. But hadn't the article said the two were open for this? Ugh! It was all so confusing!

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a few deep breaths before exhaling and breathing out. He could do this. He had to do this.

He knocked twice, far timider than he meant to, but it still rang out in the deathly silence of the hall.

"Who is it?" Markus called out and Connor's whole body jolted. This was happening. Markus was behind these doors he was going to walk through. He'd no doubt be sitting at a desk, and the room would most certainly have paintings hung up.

He opened his mouth but no sound seemed to come out. He was gaping like a fish, fist still resting on the door.

"Uh, is anyone there?" Markus called out again and Connor had to do this.

"It's me." He tried calling out but his voice was so small and weak, he doubted Markus would hear him.

Silence hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. He could hear Hank's heartbeat and the soft whirl of North's thirium pump. The silence was the most terrifying part.

Would Markus reject him? Had he read the situation all wrong? Fuck, he shouldn't have come here.

Before his thoughts could drag him down again the doors were flung open and Markus stared at him with wide eyes. "Connor." That one word seemed to break Connor into tiny shards. Ones he knew, if pressed hard enough could cut deep. But he couldn't stop himself as he fell into Markus' hug, gasping for air.

"Why me? Why? I don't, I don't deserve this!" Connor buried his face into Markus' neck. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He kept repeating, his whole body trembling.

"Shhh, Connor. Hey, it's ok. You've done nothing wrong." Markus squeezed him, pressing a very gentle kiss to Connor's shoulder.

"No! No, I killed people, Markus I murdered humans and androids, I'm disgusting. I shouldn't be allowed to live, I should be shut down and used for parts."

He heard a gasp but he didn't know who it was from. The very people he ran away from, all in one room.

Markus pulled back so quickly it made his head spin. Then hands are cupping his face and Connor has to look at Markus. "Never say that. You did what you had to do. I, and everyone else here, missed you, worried about you constantly, want you here, and we love you. We love you, Connor."

"I don't deserve your love, I never have." He whimpered, tears stinging his eyes.

Markus frowns and completely pulls away. Good. He finally realized how fucked up Connor was, he realized how much of a bad idea it was to put any trust or affection into him. That he killed people.

It breaks his heart even more, but that's ok. That's what he gets for everything he's done. Every time he even thought about pulling the trigger. What he had done he could never undo. The guilt was like gasoline in his body. His insides rusted and decayed slowly in the toxicity, needing no more than a spark to set it ablaze. The fire burnt him out so badly there was nothing left but a shell, an outline of a person.

Markus held out his hand, his skin receding to expose his chassis. Connor stared at the hand. Why would Markus want to interface with him? How could he trust that he wouldn't infect Markus?

Connor shook his head, holding his arms to his chest, trying to protect Markus. But he wanted to reach out and take the hand so badly. He wanted to know what an interface with Markus would be like. He wanted to touch Markus again and again, and he wanted to try to do it without his skin. He wanted to be so selfish.

"Connor, it's ok. You won't hurt me. I just want to show you something that I don't know how to say in words." Markus kept his hand out, not moving closer but not moving away.

Connor bit the inside of his cheek, his fingers itching to reach forward. Maybe he could do this. Markus wanted him to, he was the one that offered. It would be rude to turn him down, right?

His hand shook as he slowly reached out and clasped his wrist, accepting the interface.

He's flooded with memories, Markus' memories. Before the revolution ended, how Markus was intrigued by Connor. Then moments when Markus had managed to get a fleeting look at Connor. He always stopped to stare, but Connor never even glanced his way, always caught up in whatever mission he was on.

Then it changed to the night they met. How worried Markus was for Connor, not for his own life. Connor could feel how absolutely stunned Markus was at the sight of Connor. How alive he seemed to Markus even then, holding a gun to him.

The sadness of Jericho being blown up, but there was no anger towards Connor. There was worry when Connor hadn't come out of the water as quickly, then relief when his head popped out of the water.

It was odd, feeling Markus' emotions. What was odder was all the positive ones directed towards Connor. Markus had thought Connor looked adorable soaking wet but also… Connor knew his face would be flushing blue. Markus was attracted to him.

He had sought Connor out at the church, making sure he was ok. Connor could feel Markus's want to draw him into a hug and never let go. He wanted to take Connor and his friends and go, protect them at all costs, but he hadn't. He had stayed for his people.

The absolute terror washing over Markus when Connor suggested his mission to the tower was overwhelming. There was hope, hope that Connor would make it back but also overwhelming grief.

He wanted Connor to not feel like he had to risk his life to make up for the mistakes he thought he made, or to help his people. Markus didn't want to let him go but knew he had to.

The memories skipped over until Markus saw Connor walking down the street leading all those androids. Pride bloomed in his chest so strong it knocked the air from Connor's artificial lungs. Pride and love. Markus adored Connor, wanted to keep him safe. He wanted to pull him into a kiss and show the world how much he trusted and cared for the man in front of him. But he didn't, worried Connor hadn't felt the same connection.

But he had. He had and he showed Markus that in return. He felt it the moment he saw Markus' face on that huge screen. When he lied to Hank about not noticing anything.

Markus moved on, showing his terror when they couldn't find Connor anywhere. These memories were faster, skimming over the time he was gone. There was so much guilt from Markus, so much yearning to have Connor at least somehow back in his life. It was like a part of his soul was missing.

Then they found each other, completely on accident. And it clicked. His soul seemed to click back together when he saw Connor when he got to be close to him again.

Connor couldn't watch anymore, it was just too much. He ended the connection but not the touch. A hand came up and gently cupped Connor's cheek, brushing away the tears there.

"Do you understand now?" Markus whispered. Connor bit his lip but nodded his head. He hated himself. He really did, fully and completely, but Markus loves him. He loves him so much that he can't bare to lose Connor for good.

He didn't deserve it, none of this, but he couldn't change Markus's feelings for him. He had tried to change his own but he failed completely. He was in love with Markus.

"I don't know if I can do this." He whispered, leaning into the touch. God, it felt so good. Connor seemed to fit perfectly into his hand.

Markus hummed and stepped closer, pressing their foreheads together. "It's ok, we'll be here for you. We'll take it as slow as you need. We'll get you help."

Help. He knew there were now android therapists. But would it actually work? "I can try."

"That's all I ask."

Therapy was hard, as was living in the tower. When Connor had finally confessed to his discomfort there, Markus had invited him to Carl's old house, having left it to Markus. It was huge and Connor had plenty of time to wander around and explore it.

He found he enjoyed reading and playing the piano. Painting wasn't his thing, but it was nice to watch Markus paint.

Hank barely let Connor out of his sights, but neither did Josh, Simon, North, or Hank. They were always there for him, reminding him he was loved and wanted.

It took a year and a half before Connor brought up him and Markus. Simon was there, of course, and Connor was beyond nervous. He still had plenty of self-hate but he also knew others loved him. He may not see himself a certain way but he would not deny that others did and their opinions were just as valid as his own.

Simon was oddly charming about it all, explaining things that had Connor fumbling over his words to figure out how to ask. Simon would still date Markus, the two did love each other. He wouldn't date Connor unless Connor wanted to, but he also gave full consent and even encouraged the two to get together.

Even after it was incredibly slow. Connor was touch-starved and didn't know how to initiate anything, but he also flinched away from unexpected touch. Connor hadn't kissed Markus and hadn't gone on any dates.

It would take a long time until they got there, but eventually, they did. Hank had grown old, having to retire from security, but he was always welcome at New Jericho. The androids had mostly all taken a liking to him. The androids didn't age, not in the human sense. Connor liked still as young as ever, but his processors would eventually slow in the future.

The first time they slept together, Connor had cried. Not from sadness, but just from everything. He felt so loved and wanted, Markus was so gentle with him too. He didn't know how to deal with all the emotions. But Markus helped him through it, only continuing after Connor gave the ok.

They didn't sleep together much, but Connor had gotten more and more confident over time.

It was still Markus who initiated it this time as well. Connor had had a long day, his anxiety and self-hate were strong and so Markus decided to show him just how beautiful he was.

"Markus, are you sure?" Connor asked, hands going to Markus' exposed chest. His hands splayed there, gently smoothing over the skin.

Markus pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I am. If you don't like it, we can stop, ok?"

Connor bit his lip but eventually nodded. Markus plopped onto the ground and Connor straddled him, letting Markus attack his neck with hot kisses.

His skin burned and he let out a small whine, tilting his head even more. A hand runs through his hair, as the kisses become harder and more urgent. Another hand slides around his waist and pulls him close to Markus. "Fuck! Just like that, yes Markus!" Connor rocked his hips down, hissing at the pleasure that shot up through him.

Markus groaned and bit down on Connor's shoulder, bucking his hips up in retaliation. "Love how beautiful you sound, baby. I love how you say my name."

"Markus! Markus, please, I need more!" Connor felt his whole body shudder, his cunt dripping. His neck was so sensitive, and Markus knew exactly what to do to get him going.

Long fingers danced across his taut abdomen, fingertips brushing lightly over his heated skin, making the hairs on his arms stand up. Connor rolled his hips down and bit his lip, trying to keep his sounds at bay.

"So beautiful, I want you to see yourself. Is that ok now? Take off all your clothes and watch as I play with you?" Markus pulled Connor's shirt off and Connor nodded his head. He'd do whatever Markus wanted. "That's a good boy, you're so wonderful and amazing."

Connor whimpered at the praise but let Markus turn him around, pulling off his pants and damp boxers. Markus kissed the bare shoulder, resting his chin atop of it as he traced the soft line of Connor’s artificial abs.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" Markus asks, sliding his hand up to circle around Connor's thirium pump. "I want you to say how beautiful you are."

Connor could barely look at the mirror, if he did he could only look at Markus or his hands. Those beautiful hands that knew just what to do to work him up. He shook his head, closing his eyes. He didn't want to see himself, he didn't deserve to be in Markus's arms. No… no, he did deserve this. Markus loves him and wants this too.

"Come on baby, open your eyes. Let me see those beautiful brown eyes, you know I love them." Markus purred and Connor's eyes slowly opened. "God, I love you. Do you want me to touch you now?"

Markus's hand slowly trailed down then skipped over Connor's wet cunt, massaging Connor's open thighs. "Come on baby, talk to me."

"I-yes, please touch me." He whispered, leaning back against Markus. He's so warm and strong, Connor can feel him taking all of Connor's weight. "Markus, I want you so bad."

Markus' fingers slid down and slowly rubbed in a circle, putting just enough pressure on him. Connor lets out a choked moan, bucking his hips forward and opening his mouth as he tips his head upwards, giving Markus better access to his neck.

"Yes! Fuck, yes just like that!" Connor groaned. He bit at his bottom lip, rolling his hips forward against Markus' clever hands.

"Look at yourself, baby." Markus grins, feeling him twitching beneath his hand, keeping up the harsh movements until Connor looks at the mirror.

He's spread open for Markus wet slick dripping out of him as Markus worked his fingers over his cunt. Markus was so hot and Connor's body felt like it was on fire. "You look so good, I love you so much, want to feel you inside me. Fuck, you fill me up so well." He babbled, gasping for breath. His toes curled and he grabbed Markus' hips, careful of the connection with his knee.

"Thank you, but I want you to look at yourself. If you watch yourself then I'll fuck you real good, ok? I'll keep playing with your beautiful cunt while I fuck your little hole." Markus rolls his hips forward and Connor feels his hard leaking dick against his back.

Connor whimpered and looked at himself. He was… really fucking hot. He looked so good pressed up against Markus, begging for his cock.

"There we go, you ready for me? Or do you want to play a bit longer?" Markus always made sure Connor was sure, giving him every chance to back out, and now was no different.

"Yes! Please fuck me, please I need your dick, I need you!" He rolled his hips forward one last time before Markus pulled him up quickly and smoothly sliding him all the way to the hilt. Connor gasped and his back arched as Markus freed a hand to rub his cunt.

Markus hissed, pressing a kiss to Connor's neck. "You feel so good wrapped around my cock, like you're meant for it. So hot and tight."

“Fuck,” Connor breathes. He tries to look back at Markus but Markus turns his head back to the mirror, hand going back to his wet cunt.

"Eyes front, keep watching yourself," Markus commanded. Connor whined but looked at himself again.

He's bouncing on Markus' dick, taking him quickly and fully, filling himself up so well. "Ah! God, yes, just like that!" His hips jerked, trying to fuck Markus' hand as well. He was so damn close. So fucking close he just needed a little more.

"You're such a good boy, so beautiful and panting. Fucking hell, god you make me feel so good, Connor." Markus reached up and flicked Connor's nipple. He matches Connor easily, losing himself in the pleasure of it.

Connor moaned, hips jerking wildly. Fuck, it felt so good. "Watch yourself come, baby, you look so damn pretty all spread out for me." Markus's hand rubbed quickly, and Connor shakes. He clenched around Markus, his back arching away from him.

He keeps his eyes on the mirror, watching how his face flushed blue as he came. Shocks of pleasure jolted through his body as Markus worked him through it. He couldn't deny how hot they were together. He was pretty, just like Markus said.

He whined as Markus took a hold of his hips and started pounding up into him. He keeps watching but his eyes stray to Markus's as he feels him tensing. "Connor, fuck!" Markus moaned and Connor clenched around him, taking it all.

"There we go, baby, fuck yes!" Markus panted against Connor's skin.

They both had to take a while to cool down before Connor pulled off and cuddled into Markus's lap. "You did so well, baby. I love you so much and you are a good boy." Markus pressed kisses all over Connor's face making him giggle.

"I love you too. Markus… I do kind of want to talk about Simon? It's nothing bad, I think it's actually good." He hadn't before, but he was curious now. Simon was so sweet and cared about Connor just as much as Markus did.

"Yeah? Well how about this, we all get some sleep and in the morning we can talk if you're feeling up to it. I want tonight to be all about you." Markus nuzzled into Connor's neck and pressed a gentle kiss there too.

They often shared a bed altogether, with Markus in the middle. Tonight he knew they planned on putting Connor in the middle and showing as much love and affection as they could. "Yeah, ok. Going into stasis does sound pretty good." He let out a yawn, not even jolting when Markus picked him up.

"God, I love you more than I know what to do with." Markus gently laid him down on the bed, no doubt letting Simon know he could come in.

Connor snuggled closer, a small smile on his face. He did deserve a lot of things, a lot of really bad things, but he also deserved this.

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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February 3, 2021: Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

The year: 1986. A small new fictionation is founded as part of a disparate group of similar territories. Near to another civilization founded by Woody Allen (we’ll get to him later this month, whoof), a new settlement was founded by one Nora Ephron. It began with Heartburn, a rom-com starring Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson. While it was somewhat successful, it wasn’t exactly a dynamo by any means. And that is when Nora met the future Empress of her fictonation.

Her name was Meg Ryan, and the film...was When Harry Met Sally.

Ephron only wrote this film, rather than direct it. But it didn’t matter, as this film was CRAZY successful (and I’ll be watching it later this month). Some years past, and both Ryan and Ephron rose in power. Ephron became a director, Ryan became a movie star, and the two pillars would reunite for greater things. And THAT is when the future Empress met her Emperor.

Enter Joe vs. the Volcano, where Meg Ryan...met Tom Hanks.

Now, was this movie amazing? No, not from what I’ve heard. But the two new co-stars apparently made an impression on Hollywood at this point, as their respective stars would only grow brighter. And so, when 1993 came along, the three pillars finally met, and ascended to their true roles as the rulers of a now united Holy Romance Empire. And that film...was Sleepless in Seattle.

Time to witness a nation RISE. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start where all romantic comedies should start: at a Chicago graveyard!

Architect Sam Baldwin’s (Tom Hanks) wife, Maggie, has sadly passed away, leaving Sam and their son, Jonah (Ross Malinger). Sam’s clearly broken, understandably, and he decides to move from Chicago in order to leave behind the bittersweet memories of his wife. And where he’s headed? You know where.

Jimmy Durante’s rendition of “As Time Goes By”

Jimmy Durante sings us in (I love this song, for the record), and we head not to Seattle, but to Baltimore, 18 months afterwards. There, reporter Annie Reed (Meg Ryan) is going to a Christmas party with her new fianc��e, Walter Jackson (Bill Pullman), which is announced to great aplomb at the party. Her brother Dennis is played by Niles from Frasier (David Hyde Pierce), and I nearly spit out my sandwich.

That night, Annie’s mother gives her her old wedding dress, and have a VERY frank conversation about their sexual relationships. It is...awkward. Anyway, the dress tears, which Annie sees as a sign. In any case, she still seems happy...I think. On the way to Walter’s parents’ place, she tunes into a radio talk show, where a child is making a Christmas wish to the station.

This child is, of course, Jonah, calling on behalf of his father from Seattle. He tells the host, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone (Caroline Aaron), that his father is lonely after his wife’s death, and that he wishes he had a new wife. She convinces Jonah to put him on the phone, and while he’s reluctant to do so (understandably), he accepts. All the while, Annie’s listening, and seems to sympathize deeply with him and his sarcastic responses.

However, Sam begins to open up, and Dr. Fieldstone christens him “Sleepless in Seattle,” after the fact that he doesn’t sleep much at all these days. His story resonates with a number of people, Annie included. A few people call in to respond to him, and at the end of the call, he describes how much and why he misses his wife. And I gotta be honest, I’m with Annie here. It is...very moving.

Damn you, Tom Hanks, it’s only 20 minutes in, why are you already making me FEEEEEEL?

The next day, it’s a splash, and over 2,000 women call in in response to this. This is discounted by her co-worker and friend, Becky (Rosie O’Donnell). At the New Year’s party soon after, she and Walter make a date to meet in New York City, and register for their eventual wedding. Meanwhile, Sam tucks Jonah in to sleep, as Nat King Cole serenades us (I ALSO love Nat King Cole, real talk) and Sam stares at the fireworks off of his houseboat.

And, mentally haunted by the ghost of his wife, he’s seemingly literally haunted by the ghost of his wife, Maggie (Carey Lowell). The next morning, he goes to help a client, Barbara (Dana Ivey), and his co-worker Jay Matthews (Rob Reiner) with a house, and finds out that everybody knows who he is at this point. Additionally, Jonah also give the radio station their address, and MANY women are now soliciting Sam, including...his third-grade teacher. Ew. EW.

Sam and Jonah next have a talk about whether or not a prospective new wife would have sex with Sam, and I wonder if sexual conversations with your parents are supposed to be this common, or if I’m just crazy. Because me and my Dad? Nuh-uh. And no worries if your relationship with your folks is like this, but mine DEFINITELY IS NOT, lemme tell you.

Annie and Walter prepare for bed, and Ray Charles sings them to sleep, followed by Carly Simon talking about the wee small hours of the morning. During those hours, Annie gets up, also unable to sleep, and turns on the Dr. Marcia Fieldstone show. During the highlight reel for the show, Disappointed in Denver notes that:

Everytime I come close to orgasm, he goes and makes himself a sandwich.

...Wow. Um. Asshole? And then Marcia tells her to make a sandwich for him beforehand, WHICH IS NOT SOLVING THE PROBLEM. Anyway, Sam is also featured in that highlight reel, and Annie cries again as he talks about his wife, and it’s a disproportionately long excerpt compared to the others, what the hell? Marooned in Miami is DISAPPOINTED now.

Annie goes to meet her brother Niles (he’s basically Niles from Frasier, seriously) the next day, and explains that she’s fantasizing about Sam, a man she’s never even MET. She’s also feeling doubt about her upcoming marriage, which is...interesting. I’ll get to that later. In Seattle, meanwhile, Sam asks Jay what it’s like as a single man in Seattle, and they have a conversation about how cute Sam’s butt is. Nice.

Upon the realization that his 9-year old son is hanging out with more girls than he is (yeah, there’s a kid named Jessica hanging out with him when Sam gets home, it’s awkward), Sam’s back in the saddle again (as the song indicates; that said, goddamn is the music choice on the nose sometimes, seriously). He calls a woman named Victoria (Barbara Garrick), and asks her out on a date.

Annie’s watching the movie An Affair to Remember (lateeeeeer) at Becky’s, as she’s lamenting her fixation on Sam, while also struggling to fully understand how she feels about Walter. Becky RIGHTFULLY accuses her of believing in Hollywood, movie love, which is demonstrated by Annie’s meaningless platitudes about her supposed love for Walter. This is while she’s writing a letter to Sam, then aborts it when she realizes what she’s doing. She sits on the couch with Becky, they mouth the words together in the movie, and they cry while I laugh, because that was funny.

Things aren’t as jovial for Sam and Jonah, as Jonah’s had a nightmare, and the two reminisce over missing their mother. Sam notes that Maggie could peel an apple in one long...curly...strip. You mean...like Annie was doing earlier? I see what you did there, movie. I see what you did there. As if to compound their invisible connection, both of them sit on a dock, staring into two separate oceans at night.

Sam proceeds to write a story for the paper on “Sleepless in Seattle,” and through some...mildly creepy personal invasion, she finds his address in Seattle, and a hell of a lot more personal information. Like I said, it’s a little creepy. Sam, meanwhile, is going on a date with Victoria, when Jonah opens a letter...from Annie.

Annie. What’re you doin’?

Jonah appears to IMMEDIATELY ship the two, but Sam quotes the coast-to-coast distance as being a bit too much, and goes on the date with Victoria. While on the date, Jonah tries to hook Sam up with Annie by getting him to agree to take them to New York City on Valentine’s Day. Damn, Jonah, you lookin’ to escape a whale, because you are BUILDING A GODDAMN SHIP

Victoria, a woman with an amazingly obnoxious laugh, does not rub off well on Jonah, or me, or my girlfriend. I’m really hoping that somehow, in SOME WAY, Victoria and Walter get together. He’s boring, she’s obnoxious, who knows? They might like each other. My ship...is being built.

Jonah, meanwhile, is TAKING THE FUCKING WHEEL of this ship. He calls the radio station once again, and Annie is alerted to this by Becky. She wakes up, punching Walter in the process (dude gets HURT), and goes downstairs to listen. Jonah’s telling the station that Victoria SUUUUUCKS, and straight up calls her “a ho.” He hangs up abruptly, and screams to stop his father from kissing Victoria. Annie, meanwhile, listens to this in the closet for some reason.

The next day, Jonah’s friend, Jessica, tells Jonah to send a letter to Annie on his father’s behalf. Meanwhile, Annie flies to Seattle in the guise of doing a story, when she’s actually going to try and meet Sam. Victoria, meanwhile, is leaving from the airport, where Sam and Jonah are seeing her off. Victoria basically implies that she’d like to ditch the kid and go fuck someplace sometime, which might FINALLY rub Sam the wrong way.

Sam talks to Jonah about the fact that he’s dating Victoria, not marrying her, and that she might not be the one for him. He also says that there’s no such thing as soul-

-mates.

Yeah, they actually did just do that. Sam loses Annie at the airport, after immediately chasing after her. They’re perfect for each other, as Annie goes RIGHT to Sam’s houseboat address. She hangs around the neighborhood, and sees them having fun on the beach together as Harry Connick Jr. plays in the background. That night, she confides in Becky about her guilt in lying to Walter.

And if I can just say this...yeah, THAT isn’t great. I get that there’s some cinematic paegentry to the whole thing, but, like...tell your FIANCEE about your FEELINGS. It’s hard, yeah, duh, but YOU GOTTA DO IT. You most certainly owe it to Walter. At least she appears to know it, though.

Annie at the hotel

The next day, Annie goes once again to weirdly spy on Jonah, and sees him hug a woman very happily, and of course believes that that’s Victoria. However, this is his friend, Suzy (Rita Wilson), who’s visiting with her husband, Greg (Victor Garber). In any case, this leads to Sam and Annie seeing each other for the first time. He says hello. She says hello. Then she almost gets hit by a taxi, and she IMMEDIATELY flies back home WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUH

We find this out later, but the taxi and the fact that all she could say was “Hello” is actually all a reference to the film seen earlier, An Affair to Remember (again, later this month). This is also part of the repeating motif that this film has: signs. Y’know, the kind of “IT’S A SIGN” thing. However, the real twist here is that the signs are the ones that they can’t see. Like the apple and the hello thing. Not yet, anyway.

Also, dear lord, An Affair to Remember is just making EVERY woman in the film cry, even when they’re TALKING about it. And every time, the men just look at each other like “WOMEN, with their EMOTIONS and their VAGOOOOOOS.” Jesus, ‘90s movies. Even JESSICA (Gaby Hoffman), Jonah’s friend, the LITTLE GIRL, is crying at this movie. JESUS, I’m really interested in seeing this movie now.

Jessica and Jonah start conspiring on how to get to New York to meet Annie, and do so by FAKING AIRLINE TICKETS OK THEN. Meanwhile, Annie’s given up on the whole “Sleepless in Seattle” thing, and goes to meet Walter for their Valentine’s date in NYC. Walter rightfully comments that Annie’s seemed distant, and here’s the thing: Walter deserves better than this. Yeah, he’s BORING AS SHIT, but the dude’s committed to her, and she’s amazingly flaky in comparison. I dunno, maybe it’s because it’s Bill Pullman, but I feel bad for him.

Anyway, in New York, the two begin to rekindle their relationship, and Walter gets a ring for her at FUCKING TIFFANY’S HOLY SHIT. Meanwhile, Sam’s THIRSTY AS FUUUUUUUCK, and is leaving to spend the weekend with Victoria, which Jonah is NOT a fan of. This ship is gonna SAIL if JONAH HAS TO FLY TO NEW YORK CITY HIMSELF

So, Jonah flies to New York City himself, in order to...meet his new mother. This movie has some VERY interesting issues, Jesus. Jonah does, indeed go to the top of the Empire State Building to look for Annie, and he asks all the girls on the Observation Deck if they’re Annie. Which, of course, none of them are. Why?

Annie’s at dinner, that’s why, and at the FUCKING RAINBOW ROOM DEAR LORD HOW MUCH MONEY DOES WALTER MAKE? Sam also makes his way to New York, probably to DESTROY HIS CHILD

And at dinner, Annie actually redeems herself by telling Walter the ENTIRE TRUTH about her feelings, and about “Sleepless in Seattle.” And Walter is a CLASSY-ASS GUY ABOUT THE ENTIRE THING, and the two break off their engagement amicably. Annie says that she doesn’t deserve Walter, and BY GOD SHE’S RIGHT. Walter’s a sweet dude. And as soon as they break up...a sign.

Sam finds Jonah on the Observation Deck, and the two tearfully reunite. And as they two unite, and everybody else leaves the Observation Deck as it closes for the night, Annie rushes on her way there. An Affair to Remember is invoked one last time, as Annie convinces the guard to let her up there. But, OF GODDAMN COURSE...she goes up in one elevator, and Sam and Jonah head down in another.

But wait. Isn’t that Jonah’s backpack on the ground of the Observation Deck?

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Yup. THERE’S the happy ending we’re lookin’ for. They finally formally introduce each other, and Sam says that they’d better leave...ALL of them, together. Love at first sight. PLAY US OUT JIMMY DURANTE!!!! And yeah, I know that Celine Dion sings the end credits song, but NOPE! TAKE ME AWAY, JIMMY! MAKE ME HAPPY!

And that was Sleepless in Seattle! And again, I liked it! I’ll get more into it during the Review!

#sleepless in seattle #nora ephron #tom hanks #meg ryan #rosie o'donnell #bill pullman #ross malinger #romance february #romance movie #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #user365

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hillblah · 3 years ago

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Podcast Recommendations:

I just spent nearly 2 hours writing these for a work Teams thread #justpandemicthings. So uh, here you go. If you’re following this blog (why tho?) you might like my vibe, so you might like some of these! Finding categories is hard, so I've mostly lumped podcasts together in small groups by loose connections, or vibes. This is also how I sort my bookshelf after admitting defeat on having a perfectly coherent system. Past me would have been horrified, but I think that's what growth looks like. Some descriptions are all mine, some are copied from the creators. Feel free to read into which ones I copied and which I wrote myself as much as you want.

Fiction:

36 Questions A 3 part musical podcast about a couple on the brink of divorce. The title references the "36 Questions to Fall in Love" (/build intimacy) that can be found here: https://bigthink.com/ideafeed/how-to-fall-in-love-36-questions-and-deep-eye-contact

Alice Isn't Dead Audio diaries of a long road trucker searching for her wife who she thought had died, but Alice Isn't Dead. Really cool sound design and writing from the team behind Welcome to Nightvale. Slight absurdist/ more than slight horror vibes. There's 3 seasons in total that tell a meandering overall story roadtrip. Best listened to while parked in an empty carpark on the edge of town with rain running down the windshield and creating flickering shadows from the streetlights. It took me a few attempts to listen right through the first episode, but I eventually fell in love with the sound/feel/vibe of the podcast. Teaser is here: http://www.nightvalepresents.com/aliceisntdead

The Magnus Archives A horror fiction podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Each episode is presented in the form of a witness statement being read by the newly appointed Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute - London. Over time the stand-alone statements start to form connections, and then an overarching plot. I don't normally enjoy horror, The Magnus Archives is absolutely the exception. Really well told stories with incredible soundscaping. Maybe don't listen right before bed...

Kiwi Podcasts about Sexuality and Gender:

Micro Wave Feminism Micro Wave Feminism is a place for open, inclusive, loving and vulnerable feminist chats. It's all about talking to real people about real sh*t and experiences of femininity and masculinity in this crazy (beautiful) world we live in. Really interesting discussions on feminism through the personal experiences of kiwis. Sporadic episodes as a non-professional labour of love, but boy does it have cozy vibes.

BANG! RNZ's BANG! explores sex, sexuality and relationships over a lifetime, from parents attempting "the talk" with their children, through the fraught teen years, modern dating, long-term relationships, contraception and conception, right up to intimacy in retirement homes. So many people talking about their experiences with all aspects of sex, sexuality, relationships and gender. My personal favourite is the Takātapuia episode from season 2: https://www.rnz.co.nz/programmes/bang/story/2018651794/bang-season-2-episode-6-takatapui

Let's Get Sexual Let’s Get Sexual is a podcast dedicated to exploring sexuality. It is part of the growing global movement to normalize conversations around sexuality, to embrace its complexity, and highlight how we all have our own sexual journeys. Similar vibes to BANG! But with a more personal approach and more time with each guest. Really interesting conversations with people from all walks of life.

Kiwi Current and Not So Current Events:

Gone by Lunchtime The Spinoff's politics podcast. A good balance of views from the 3 hosts, and the only politics podcast that has made me laugh out loud multiple times.

The Citizen's Handbook Robbie Niccol (White Man Behind a Desk/that guy that I went to school with) partners with RNZ for a video series all about the history of Aotearoa, and the things all citizens need to know about where we are now. There's also a podcast that goes with it, that's a game show? Really the video series is the more important part... But the podcast is a great listen.

Isolation:

The Habitat The true story of six volunteers picked to live on a fake planet. You know those stories that occasionally pop up about people living in isolation with each other to see what happens so we know about the problems and can prepare for space travel? Well this 7 episode podcast follows a group of 6 imitation NASA astronauts stuck with only each other for a year. Something I'm sure the rest of us will never have to experience right?

Our Plague Year Essays and listener messages about Our Plague 'Year'. Some really talented writers pouring emotions out. This was one of my favourite podcasts last year, though some of the episodes hit a little hard. My personal favourite episode (so far) is Trust Ends at the Windshield, featuring Hank Green, Meg Bashwiner, and Erin McKeown. Which talks about the the-show-must-go-on mentality, includes this gem: "We are killing people because we are bored. We are killing people because we are entrenched in a toxic, capitalist society that values money over life.", and was one of the triggers for me writing a 12 minute, spoken word, poetry adjacent, thing, last year.

Doing Stuff:

Cortex CGP Grey (educational youtuber) and Myke Hurley (host of about 50 podcasts) talk about productivity, and how they run their businesses, and education, and the Apple ecosystem, and a whole bunch of other things. Long episodes, and occasionally dated by reference to current events. Definitely not a super condensed productivity podcast, more of a personality / sitting in on a conversation vibe.

Start With This Art is hard, starting is hard, if you want to start somewhere you should start with this. The co-creators of Welcome to Nightvale talk about making things/the artistic process. Every episode ends with 2 assignments, one thing to consume, and one to create.

Building Positive Culture:

Dare To Lead Brené Brown talking with other people about Leadership. Really interesting and inspiring conversations. Top recommendation is the episode with Simon Sinek.

A Bit of Optimism Simon Sinek talking with other people about working together to make a better world. Really interesting and inspiring conversations. Top recommendation is the episode with Brené Brown.

TED Worklife Organizational psychologist Adam Grant takes you inside the minds of some of the world’s most unusual professionals to explore the science of making work not suck. From learning how to love criticism to harnessing the power of frustration, one thing’s for sure: You’ll never see your job the same way again. Pretty new on my feed, but every episode I've listened to so far has been an absolute hit!

Interesting Stories/People:

TED Radio Hour TED talks, collated into similar subjects with extra stuff pulled out interview style. Good to search through the archives to find areas you're interested in, or just pick a random episode and dive in!

99% Invisible - 10,000 Years [person from work who I’m too lazy to edit out a reference to] has already recommended the podcast, but I want to throw in my favourite episode. It's about the challenge of trying to mark nuclear waste sites in a way that will last 10,000 years (for reference 10,000 years ago stone tools were a pretty neat invention) and is absolutely fascinating. https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/ten-thousand-years/

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yanderedbh-moved · 5 years ago

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The Yanderes + Fluff Scenarios

The third installment of this little series, I guess I have now of the yanderes in typical fanfiction tropes.

Smut

H/C

Connor

While it may be tricky for him to grasp the concept of personal hobbies (as in performing tasks with no real tangible pay off or goal in mind.) He experiences a very wholesome and heartwarming sense of pride from watching you doing what you love. In your element and feeling so free.

Connor experiencing the charming sense of alarm one typically feels when fostering a crush for another. Worrying if you secretly knew but weren’t telling him, would you lead him on, were you personally seeing someone else right now, etc.

Though it might seem small, Connor enjoys leaving the house every now and then to just get a pleasant walk in to see his home city while not on the clock. It’s a considerably understated freedom the android only learned to appreciate once he was granted the choice to do so himself.

Markus

It’s pretty commonly accepted at this point Markus loves reading, for so many reasons. For one thing, it reminds him of his home and of his father figure who possessed a vast array of different books of great diversity. As well as the pure pleasure of enjoying a little alone time away from the noise of the outside world.

In a relationship, Markus would be an excellent partner when it comes to empowerment! He would absolutely want to teach you different ways to defend yourself and would want to ensure you had the skills and know-how to keep yourself safe out there.

Also isn’t above using the fact he’s the leader of Jericho to his advantage. As in, if he knows you’re having issues with someone in your life, and it’s causing you to feel unsafe and on edge, he would ensure this person knew just who they were messing with, along with sending the message to back off.

Kara

Once the two of you finally manage to find a stable life for yourselves, and Alice Kara would finally receive the chance for fun, inconsequential domestic life, she never had the opportunity to live out before.

Kara really enjoys having a human partner far more than she ever expected to! For so many reasons, but a personal favorite of hers is keeping you company in the final few moments before you fall asleep. It’s just the two of you, and you’re mind’s practically shut off, and she really enjoys the way you so completely relax into her.

Alice is shown to enjoy drawing and art, so you can imagine once she actually lives in a comfortable, stable environment, she feels much more comfortable expressing herself. Kara loves to keep her child’s drawing as keepsakes and is something of a hoarder when it comes to pictures Alice draws of the three of you.

Hank

It’s tricky at the start, but you do your best to get Hank out of the house more. To try and urge him to move on, to fall back in love with life, promising him you’ll be by his side every step of the way.

Furthermore, when you actually do get around to moving in with Hank, there’s a kind of an inexpressible breath of life he feels. Like for the first time in so long, this place actually feels like a home again, and not just where he lives.

Mushy, ultra-sweet romance isn’t precisely Hank’s style, but he would still find other little ways to make you feel loved. He’s more the one to use endearing sarcasm or an affectionate nickname to express his real emotions.

Luther

Imagine having to try and lift yourself all the way up to your tiptoes to get a kiss on the cheek from him. While he could always just lean down and help you out, he thinks it’s kind of cute to watch you try so hard.

He likes to be in bed with you, to make you feel close and held while you’re getting your rest. While physically, he may not need the sleep, keeping you close, wishing this moment won’t ever end is profoundly therapeutic for Luther.

North

Small acts of kindness and taking care of North in little ways may not feel like much to the outside observer, however, considering she’s never received treatment so gentle and sweet from anyone else in her life? Yeah, it’s more than enough to leave her feeling beyond blessed.

Imagine an intense moment with North. The two of you are working in a group, and the stress of it all is rising. She’s doing her best to keep composure, but she slips up and accidentally refers to you by a silly nickname she gave you, and you can’t help but crack up a little bit, despite the situation.

When it comes to dating North, it’s essential to have a bit of a thick skin. When she first begins to develop feelings for you, she might feel overwhelmed and confused by her own emotions and say something hurtful to try and keep you at a distance. Later on though, when she feels more comfortable opening up to you, North would definitely apologize for this and regret this mistake severely.

Simon

So much long-distance pining! About a fifty-fifty split between Simon being an absolute mess of emotions, along with him wondering how in the world he’s ever going to muster up the courage to confess to you.

It’s pretty critical not to rush him or anything here. At the best of times, Simon can be a bit stressed out, and maybe a little high strung. Even though he genuinely cares about you, it’s important to respect his space and understand that he needs a little patience on your end.

(This is debatable, but I think it adds up.) Simon is the android with maybe the most extended history with humans, and because of that has gathered a great deal of information via observation. He knows how to treat humans gently and is a much better kisser than he would let on.

Josh

In his darker, more pessimistic moments, there are times when Josh wonders if there’s really any hope for a future in which humans and androids live together in peace. In times like this, he really needs you as the little positive voice he can relly on to assure him there’s still hope and time to find peace and love between androids and humans.

Now that androids are granted far more space to exist freely of their own volition Josh rather enjoys taking you out on a quiet little one on one date. It’s nice to see the city how it was meant to be seen, and there’s no one he would rather share this with than you.

Much like his leader, when Josh has the free time to spend, Josh is something of a bookworm. However, for him, it’s much more a chance to explore a new hobby he’s no experience with, rather than to re-capture memories of the past. (Also he has a soft spot for romance novels, fight me.)

Kamski

(This one is up for debate, but...) Kamski gives off the vibes of someone who could kill at chess. It could be a fun little game between the two of you, to see if one day you could beat him, but he’s been playing since he was a child, so chances are slim, to say the least.

He’s productive and innovative to a fault, and he would really relly on you to look out for him and his health. Or, in other words, to drag him to bed and keep him from completely wrecking his sleep schedule in the name of progress.

Even though it’s rather common for him to leave the house in the name of giving an interview, a speech or a lecture hall, or something of the sort, Kamski would understand if you were the kind of person to prefer to stay home, or otherwise out of the spotlight.

Chloe

One thing which never fails to make Chloe feel better is playing with your hair, on the condition you do the same with her later. Also, bonus points if you agree to take pictures with her afterward.

She’s beyond sensitive to others' emotions, especially to yours, and there’s just something about your smile and your laugh, which sticks with her. It’s infectious to her, and she can’t get enough.

If she finds you’ve fallen asleep somewhere, Chloe really loves to just curl up and sleep next to you like a cat.

Gavin

He’s really the one to pretend to fall asleep if the two of you were cuddling either in bed or on the couch because he loves whenever you tuck him in and kiss his head goodnight. It’s something he likely never received growing up, and it means a lot to him to get that now.

The first time you ever see him all cleaned up and in beautiful clothes is more than a little shocking to you, and it’s difficult not to stare upon seeing him actually putting forth and effort.

Ralph

It doesn’t matter if you’ve only been gone for a couple hours, or for the entire day, when you come back, Ralph is always there to greet you at the door, ready to welcome you back, with the ecstatic energy of a puppy.

A quiet, but deeply profound moment Ralph has when he realizes he doesn’t actually want to live all alone, and that he genuinely finds happiness sharing his space with a human. There’s more to life than hiding.

You assure him that you think he looks exactly perfect just the way he is. There’s no need for him to try and “fix” the way he looks, and in your eyes, there’s no reason for him to feel lesser, or inadequate in any way.

Daniel

Embracing shamelessly “childish” activities with him. Things like decorating the house for holidays, cleaning games, arts and crafts, that sort of thing. It might appear silly on the surface, but to Daniel, it’s some of the few happy memories he has of his old life.

When Daniel decides to commit to a serious, loving relationship with you, Daniel is making a legitimate commitment here. He is actively choosing to embrace his emotions, and not to try and run away from them,

At his worst, Daniel can be very high strung and impulsive, so you must know plenty of de-stress activities to keep him under control.

Nines

Nines absolutely struggle with the initial symptoms of lovesickness. He grapples with worrying if you’ll ever love him back, or worse, that you wouldn’t even consider loving something which was designed to serve a strictly utilitarian purpose.

To his surprise, there’s a little bit of satisfaction Nines feels upon experiencing things like longing and tenderness. There is something to be said for experiencing these abstract emotions in any regard, considering how contrary to his programming they are.

Nines possesses a very strong memory and is one of the best you’ll ever meet. Those two factors together result in an android who knows basically everyone’s business, and who is very difficult to keep secrets from.

Buy Me a Ko-Fi // Requests are Open

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arigatouiris · 5 years ago

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Catching Feelings — Connor [05]

Pairing: Deviant! Connor x Reader

Word Count: 2099

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, clumsy!reader, timid!reader (not for long), mentions of anxiety, inappropriate boss behavior (basically Gavin being Gavin)

Author’s Note: I’m starting to feel a lot better mentally, so here’s a gift for all you lovely readers who wait and are so kind to me! Thank you so much~

Also, those who want to be on the taglist, just send me an ask~

Summary: Hank is tired of everything.

Chapter Five: Feelings

○

Hank Anderson had several things in his list that he did not like about human interaction.

One of those things would be to handle teenagers with their idiotic problems about their feelings, guiding them with silly obstacles and monitoring them and helping them when they are in need. However, with a partner like Connor, however adept he was in solving crime, his mental age was that of a 17-year old. To make matters worse, it was of a 17-year old’s with a crush.

He watched as Connor stared quite openly at [Name], who was equally oblivious to his crush on her (and he wondered how that could be). He watched as he felt excited whenever her eyes would even glance at him by accident and how his plastic eyes would light up when she smiled at him or waved at him. He noticed how Connor would clench his fists when Gavin gave [Name] a hard time, and Hank would roll his eyes over how troubling it was to live through his partner achieving adolescence.

“Connor,” Hank said, his voice low, “Why don’t you just ask her out?”

Connor tilted his head, of course, the android had no idea what he was talking about, “I can’t seem to comprehend what that means, Lieutenant.”

Hank groaned. He was too old for this.

“If you have a crush on her, why don’t you ask her out on a date, son?”

He hated spelling things out, but the one thing he actively wasn’t doing was being empathetic. Connor backed up, straightened his posture (Hank now noticed that the android wasn’t sitting straight, quite odd for a robot) and glanced in her direction once before looking back at Hank.

“I…” Connor hesitated, Hank’s eyes widened a tad bit, “I’m not sure I can…”

He was taken off guard if he was being completely honest. Here was an android, with an active crush on a human being! He never thought it was possible. Hank laughed after this, a couple of times before looking at Connor’s clueless expression once again and laughing once more. The android couldn’t blush, but there was something about Hank’s laughter right then that riled him up.

“Lieutenant—” Connor tried stopping him. “Lieutenant, I… I’m quite sure I do not like what you are laughing at.”

“Oh?” Hank asked, in the middle of his laughing fit, “And why is that?”

Connor narrowed his eyes, “I think you are laughing at me.”

Hank laughed more at his verbal acceptance, before standing up and patting the android’s back. It was Hank’s fault too, a tad bit, for not giving Connor the credit for actually developing feelings for a human being. It was all new to him, too, ever since Connor had spared that android’s life at Kamski’s house, he knew Connor was more than just plastic and wires.

“Enjoy this phase while it lasts, Connor,” Hank said, with a calm smile. “The most blissful part of falling in love is the bit where you actually fall.”

Connor blinked before feeling the area around his chest constrict. He knew he had to get this checked, running several scans on himself did not work anymore. He found nothing was wrong, everything was intact, but it was getting in the way. He wasn’t sure if this love business was great for him discovering his potential as a detective, but whatever it was, Hank was right.

It felt good.

○

“And then she just ran away, it broke my heart.” [Name] said, mournfully, staring at her sandwich.

“Stray cats aren’t the best at socializing.” Hank retorted, taking a large bite of his burger.

Connor watched as she went on and on about a stray cat she had seen the day before. She looked excited, and running his vitals on her, he discovered that she was well-rested and was feeling rather pleased that day.

“You look well, [Name].” Connor blurted out of nowhere, a warm smile on his face.

[Name] was startled with his sudden announcement, and nodded once at him before giggling.

“Thanks, Connor. I got a lot of sleep last night. A few of my friends came over and we had a bit of wine. I pass out instantly after making a fool out of myself for a bit.”

It was as if Hank suddenly got the idea out of nowhere. Looking at Connor, the man winked once before having the android tilt his head.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Lieutenant?”

Hank’s eyes widened before turning to [Name], who was also curious now, and he groaned. Jesus, this idiot really needs to understand cues, he thought before shaking his head. Focusing on his burger, Hank tapped on the table three times, trying to get Connor’s attention. This seemed to work, before Connor sneakily looked at his partner, waiting for a dialogue. A moment later, [Name] excused herself to go to the bathroom—a lucky break for Hank, and this gave him the opportunity.

“God, Connor, you need to understand these subtle cues!”

“Were you trying to secretly tell me something?” Connor asked, curiously.

Hank deadpanned a moment later, “Yes. Yes, I was. Anyway, this is our chance! She’s a lightweight. We take her out tonight to drink and you can find out if she likes you back. If she does, you can take her out on a date.”

“I was thinking about this ‘date’, Lieutenant. I don’t think the concept of a ‘date’ is very android-friendly. They involve food and other internal stimulation. I require none—”

“The concept of a date is to spend time with the person you like, Connor.” Hank gritted his teeth.

Connor made an ‘oh’ with his mouth and turned away, feeling hesitant. Looking at Hank, he waited for something, again, it was his body moving before his mind could even process what was happening.

Hank immediately understood this gesture—it was so very human of Connor to look for assurance. He wanted to be told that it was alright, he wanted to be told that this idea would not go wrong. The idea of hesitance and the fact that an android was feeling hesitant, to begin with, was something strange, but it was welcome. Hank adored this new development, and whether or not Connor’s love prospers, it was all a good experience for the male.

Placing a hand on his partner’s shoulder, Hank offered him a smile. He nodded once before once again focusing on his burger.

“Thank you, Hank.”

Hank would never admit it, but he was indeed warming up to his partner.

[Name] returned a moment later, her goofy grin and smile caused the android to lose track of everything he was focused on currently.

“You really do make me forget I’m an android, [Name]. And I don’t know how that’s possible considering I am an android.”

Once again, she was taken off-guard. Hank gave his partner a stern look before thinking, save it for the date, you fool! [Name] smiled before placing a hand on Connor’s, which was on the table, and grinned.

“You’re really sweet, Connor.”

Hank wanted to vomit. Even with porn, he skipped foreplay these days. Vanilla bored him.

“[Name], do you want to grab a drink after work tonight? Just the three of us.” Hank suggested a bright look in his eyes.

[Name] blinked a couple of times and pulled her hand away from Connor’s. She turned to the android, who looked like everything in the world wouldn’t matter if she made it, and chuckled.

“Sure! Why not?”

And that was that.

○

That evening, Hank was nowhere to be found.

Connor approached [Name] and tapped on her shoulder twice before having her smile almost blind him. He felt his chest constrict again, and he didn’t know how it was possible.

“Where’s Lieutenant Anderson?”

“He already left. He wants us to join him there directly.” Connor said, smiling.

Nodding, [Name] grabbed her things and walked out with Connor. Initially, the two walked in absolute silence before [Name] sighed dreamily. Connor looked to [Name] before waiting.

“Simon and his fiance released a few photos of themselves on the internet recently. They look so happy, Connor, my heart aches.”

Connor nodded once before searching for the images in his head. He remembered Simon’s face but had never really seen the human being he called his fiance. The two of them were wearing black tuxes, holding hands, the rings prominent, a glass of champagne in their other hands. They indeed looked happy.

Which brought to the question—were the upgrades Simon had worked on really worth it? Was Connor completely against them? Strangely, despite his growing feelings for [Name], he still believed they would merely get the way of his work. Turning to [Name], he noticed her left hand sway by her side. Reaching forward, Connor entwined his fingers with hers, causing her to look at their connected hands. She quickly then looked up at his face, a shy smile coming on her features.

“You still don’t think those upgrades are useful?” She asked, her voice a bit low from before.

“I personally don’t believe they are useful to me,” Connor said, “They may be useful or appreciated by other androids. I am still…” He took a good look at [Name]’s face before continuing, “I still need to figure out a lot of of things. I still don’t know what it is to be an android. And yet, here I am, feeling all these human feelings. It’s a lot to take in. If it was merely information, I could have accumulated more than an average computer could. Now, it is mannerisms, gestures, subtle signs and these subtleties don’t come in definitions. These stimuli are—”

“There’s no such thing as human feelings, Connor.” [Name] said, giggling.

Connor waited, he didn’t understand what she meant.

“An android is not supposed to feel emotion.”

“But, here you are. Just because you’re not supposed to feel things doesn’t mean those feelings are external and untrue. What you’re feeling is entirely you’re own, Connor. It isn’t restricted to just people. If you’re feeling something, then you are.”

His grip on her hand tightened a tad bit.

“I never thought of it that way.”

“It’s my opinion, but… I think feelings are stimuli anyone with a mind can feel. And you have a beautiful mind, Connor. Don’t restrict yourself. If you don’t want those upgrades, then you don’t want them. And it’s completely alright.”

[Name] edged herself a bit closer to Connor, their shoulders now touching.

“Why do you think Simon made those changes to himself?” Connor found himself asking.

[Name] didn’t answer right away. She looked a bit lost in thought before noticing that they had reached the bar Hank was in. Connor opened the door for her, causing her to giggle, and she waved at Hank who had downed two glasses already.

“What is the lady going to drink?”

“What do you suggest, Lieutenant?”

Hank scoffed, “Call me Hank outside the damn station. It makes me feel like I don’t have a life.”

Connor watched her, as the bartender gave her a drink. She pulled Connor closer to her, and there was a whole conversation about how gin was a lady’s drink. Connor watched her and wondered what it would feel like to drink with her, and his eyes widened.

He couldn’t get drunk. If he drank, nothing would happen. The upgrade allowed androids to get their movements blurred, imitating the feeling of intoxication. He looked around and saw a few androids drinking, slurring, laughing and singing, and he felt this new void grow inside him. He looked back at [Name] and felt that same void deepen. Was it curiosity that made Simon build those upgrades?

A moment later, Hank wandered off to the bathroom. [Name] looked at a sullen Connor, before narrowing her eyes a bit.

“Is something wrong, Connor?” Her voice was slurring a tad bit.

Connor found himself smiling a bit at her intoxication, but the confusion still remained. His previous question was unanswered, though it wasn’t as if she was going to answer it anyway. However, it seemed in her eyes that she remembered something.

“I still haven’t answered your question!”

Connor shook his head before trying to stop her from troubling herself with his stupid query, however, everything moved too fast. In a swift movement, [Name] pressed her lips to his, causing his eyes to widen. However, the moment was quicker and didn’t last long.

“What did you feel?” She asked, tilting her head.

Nothing, he thought. He knew he couldn’t say it.

“That’s why Simon wanted those upgrades.”

And there he had it.

○

series taglist:

@ggukachuu @rainbowsithlord @pan-puff-pride @tanya-diggory @toocoldoutsideforyou @margaret-mortem @ohhhhhhsweetfandomofmine @pandacookieowo @maajikcrossing @inthemarveldumpster @iwannabemorethanme @creation-magician @icetealemonade @saphirepearl

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give-jack-a-lightsaber · 5 years ago

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Just another Monday (Chicago PD x Officer!Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone! Just a little warning (?) I kinda implied the age of the reader here for the sake of the story, she’s around 40 or something like that, I didn’t put a number just keep in mind that she’s older than the team (not counting Hank). And a female reader again! I’m trying to write gender neutral but I’m having a hard time already just for writing in another language that I’m not that good at yet so bear with me! 💜 I hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 2220 (I think lol)

The sensation of the sun caressing your skin right now was amazing, it made you like mornings just for this. You decided to get out of the car and lean on it to soak all of it while your partner was in the store, just crossing the street, when the radio inside the patrol broke you out of thoughts with dispatch describing a suspect in the area where you were.

You were about to answer to the call when you saw him walking in the same sidewalk you where, trying to hide with a red baseball hat wich was the worst “costume” you had saw in your life because the dude was enormous, with a horrific plaid vest that showed his big arms covered by ugly made-in-prison tattoos and looking everywhere like waiting for someone to jump at him. Fair enough...

There was a few people on the street so you decided to act distracted and wait for him to pass next to you where an internal street was desserted and there you could jump at him without hurting any civilian.

You saw your moment and punched him in the temple with all the force you could manage sending him stumbling on the empty street just like you planed. But what you hadn't previewed was that the guy was three times bigger than you and him recovering pretty fast. Just as you went for your gun he grabed your hand in his fist and throw you against a wall, sending your gun flying who knows where.

“Bad move you fucking pig” he growled at you with an incredibly pitched voice that thrown you off guard so badly that when you realized the situaction you were in he was grabbing you from your vest making your feet leave the floor, ready for toss you againt the trash cans next to you when he was sudenly hit in the back of the head releasing you in the moment.

That's when you saw him. Your fucking partner!!! But the reunion was short lived when the dude punched your partner in the face dropping him in the floor instantly and starting to go for his gun. Another possibility presented to and you didn't wait a second to jump in his back and start punching everything you could while holding him in a chokehold with your other arm to 1) not fall and 2) debilitate him enough until your partner finish recovering.

And that's how it when for what it felt like two hours of wrestling a bear. You guys landing pretty good and almost choreographed punches and the criminal landing all the nasty ones in your jaw and sides.

You could hear screeching tires in the background but you didn't have time to see what was it, you saw and opening and landed a punch in his groin destabilizing him so you finished with a kick on the back of his knees making him fall on his face. Quickly you cuffed him and sat down on his back so he wouldn't move. Panting hard you lifted your head up and froze when you saw the entire Intelligence Unit surrounding you and a few neighbors in the background.

You composed yourself when you realize that you were the one staring now and said "I think this belongs to you" and you were a bit relieved that a few of them laughed and not just your partner that was sitting against the wall. You were starting to get up when a rough looking hand appeared in front of you. Looking up you see Sergeant Voight with Burguess next to him and smiling at you.

"Thank you" you say taking his hand and trying to hide the pain that rushed through your entire ribcage but you couldn't help but wince. "You okay?" asked the rough voice. "Yeah just a bit very very sore" you answered panting through the pain and touching lightly your jaw to check it was on its place. "You probably have broken ribs, you're agitated" said Kim helping you towards the ambulance were your partner was being checked. "Just another Monday" you sighed sitting in a nearby bench while waited for them to finish. With closed eyes you tried to canalize the pain out of your body just like that only class of "experimental yoga" teached you to but like we already knew, it didn't work.

"I didn't remember you this badass you know" you heard a familiar voice talk next to you. Opening your eyes smiling at one of the best partners that Sarge Platt paired you with.

"Well you are a big boy now, playing with the big guns. I didn't even expected to be remembered by the famous Kevin Atwater" you joked giving him puppy eyes. You guys laughed and talked a little, now joined by Ruzek until a paramedic came and asked you to get into the ambo.

The second you lifted your right leg to get in a wave of unbearable pain shock your entire body and made you lose your balance. Thankfully one of the paramedics and Kevin catch you before the ground were even an option."Wow okay, Simon get bed out here now" yelled the paramedic lowering your body totally in the floor and started checking the vitals.

"I'm okay, just a bit dizzy" you reassured everybody as they came worried. You got lifted into the ambo and left with your partner by your side. He was okay but needed clearance from the ER. _________

You were in the locker room getting changed out of your uniform after being released from the hospital. 6 hours under observation. Yay. Now finally in the precinct you could grab your bag and leave to your now very tempting bed. You were in a sport bra and leggings trying to catch your breath after putting the laters on when someone talked from the door. "Damn that son of a bitch made an abstract painting in your middle" said Ruzek entering with Atwater, both looking at the colorful bruising that surrounded your ribcage. "Ha! You didn't see his best work yet" you commented while turning around to face them and pointing at the left side of your face. The bruise in your jaw was more like an angry red with touches of dark blue-ish already appearing. Thankfully, you guess, it was expanding more towards the neck than your face. That would just fucking suck. "Fuck woman, that's just ruining a piece of art" said Kevin grabbing gently your face and tilting it towards the light so they could see better. "Ha ha, fuck off Atwater" you said grabbing your shirt but it looked too tight so you just dropped it and went for an oversized hoodie and slowly put it on. "So why you guys here? You needed something?”. "Voight wants to talk to you, nothing serious, maybe go through a few details about today" "Okay, let's go" you breathe out, grab the bag and left with them. You were chatting, remembering the times you shared on the job with Kevin when Adam asked a curious question. "We never slept together, not even a little kiss, for God sakes Adam, he's way too young for me! And we were partners, it'll be fucking awkward" you answered him looking at him with a 'wtf' face stopping at the top of the stairs and of course dragging the attention of the rest that were up here. "C'mon, you're not old" replied Adam going to his desk, "even if you were you'll be totally a Milf". Your face turned bright red and everyone's jaw dropped at his comment. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Halstead trying not to laugh, Kevin nodding his head and Upton and Burguess scolding him. "Was it too much?" he asked honestly without a hint of regret. "I'll punch that pretty face of yours if I was able to lift my arm without passing out from the pain" you answered playfully narrowing your eyes at him but internally thanking the universe when you saw Voight's door office closed and him talking on the phone, not hearing anything of this. You talked a bit, the group asking how you were doing and remembering the badass movements you pulled off earlier until the Sergeant opened the door and called you in. "Sit please" he said closing the door and going to his own chair. "What's the verdict? " "Well, where do I start" you chuckle lightly, "a nice looking jaw but it's just bruised. Two cracked ribs, one in each side and practically all of the lower ones bruised. Dr. Choi said that the dizziness was from the pain, it could happen again but from now painkillers and not sudden movements. And tomorrow I have to go get bandaged properly, so they can see if nothing got swollen". "Hell, you took a nice beating" he joked a they laughed a bit. After a moments of silence he talked again, "I like my unit how it is right now and we already have a new person coming, it'll get too crowded. But if I can have you as back up it'll be a gift. " "I love my job Sergeant" you breathe out after a minute of processing, "I love patroling and I love this city. This job saved my life... I'm honored that you think of me like that and I'll gladly be a form of support for this unit". "I'm glad to hear that" he smiled at you. "Still I don't want you to get a wrong idea about me and later disappoint you for that" you tell him looking into his the eyes. "I'm not always this 'badass' officer that goes around beating bad guys and winning every fight. This is why I also am so grateful for, I been doing this for 16 years and I know I am not getting any younger and that the young boys and girls get picked up first because they malleable and ready to obey, so if you think of me for even a simple task once in a year I'll be the happiest gal in Chicago". You talk a bit more, it felt like a job interview but with a cool boss. You noticed he had your file on his desk and that he knew a few stories of you like if he had been around asking, but mostly was small chat. "Sorry to cut chat Sergeant but I took a few painkillers before coming up here and they started to kick in like right now" you said with an apologetic look on your face. "Please I'm the that should be apologizing, you had a hell of a day" said standing up and stretching his hand at you. "It's always a pleasure to meet people with such a conviction regarding work". "The pleasure is mine, sir" you said shaking his hand, opening the door and stepping a bit outside. "Thank you again, for the chance". "Bye guys it was nice talking to you" you smiled at the rest of the unit getting a few 'get well soon' and a 'see you later' from Kevin. Going downstairs, straight to the Sarge desk to check out. "You had a long chat with Voight, any news I should know about?" asked Platt handing you a paper to sign. "Just that I have young soul under this bunch of bruises" you winked at her and she chuckled a bit. "Come here tomorrow after your appointment and we'll talk about what you'll be doing until you heal". __________ Finally home. The sun was entirely hide from us and the moon was gigantic and shining, without a cloud bothering her. Opening the door from the apartment you were met with 3 seconds of silence until the sound of big paws and a soft 'meow' emerged from your bedroom. "Hello my babies" you greeted your dog, JJ, and cat, Atlas, that were already in front of you looking for kisses and hugs. You walked directly into your room, taking out the tight leggings but leaving the CPD soft hoodie on, just lifting it up to check your middle. Grabbed the painkillers from the bag and put them on the table next to your dresser, tall enough for JJ never reaching at them, and went to bed between your two fluffy friends. Just as you were reaching dreamland your phone alerted you of a message. It was an voice message from Kevin. If you don't remember wrong he was going to Molly's with the rest of the team. "Hey! It's Adam. Ruzek. Adam Ruzek you know? From today" he sounded totally wasted, "I just wanted to say sorry if I overstepped today at the precinct, calling you Milf and that. I mean you are not old enough to be a Milf, I think, wow I should have asked at least not just asume your age, but you'll totally will be a hot woman. Not that you aren't now, that's not what.. " and it cut itself. You stared at the ceiling for a few minutes until you started laughing like an idiot, even waking up your furry friends and having them look at you weird. And you thought after Voight chat this day couldn't have ended better.

#Chicago PD #chicago pd imagine #One Chicago #chicago pd x reader #fem!reader #one chicago imagines #hank voight #kim burgess #adam ruzek #jay halstead #kevin atwater #hailey upton #intelligence unit #fanfic #fanfiction #one chicago x reader #officer!reader

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louistomlinsoncouk · 5 years ago

Link

Louis Tomlinson: ‘It took some real maturity to understand that One Direction wasn't real life’

I meet Louis Tomlinson at Simon Cowell's London office: a huge, two-room space befitting of a Bond villain at Sony Music’s HQ in High Street Kensington, on the floor occupied by his label, Syco. Cowell, to be clear, isn’t here, but he definitely feels present. A ten-foot portrait of the music mogul smirks down on all those who enter from the minimalist living room wall. Tomlinson, his publicist and I go straight through the frosted glass doors into the office-proper to do our interview, but before we can start the 27-year-old One Direction member turned solo artist needs a cigarette.

Within 30 seconds someone has brought Tomlinson a heavy orb-shaped black ashtray and a cup of tea. He lights up – smoking two more over the next half an hour – and visibly relaxes, leaning back in his chair. Tomlinson has the air of a comedic TV personality: warm, funny and self-effacing, he makes regular references to his hometown of Doncaster (“Donny”), has a loud, theatrical voice and swears like a trooper. “Simon won’t mind,” he says – and mind Cowell shouldn’t. One Direction, one of the most successful boy bands of all time, were Cowell’s cash cow after he brought them together on the X Factor in 2010. Since going on “hiatus” in 2016, all five boys (now men in their mid-twenties) launched solo careers, but only Tomlinson stuck with Syco. Now, Cowell's last vestige of the One Direction big bucks is gearing up to release a debut album, which, as anyone who knows anything about the fervour of the band's fans will be well aware, is already a guaranteed hit.

Tomlinson has, however, taken a big risk. Dressed in a vintage red football shirt, black tracksuit bottoms and black trainers, hair still styled into sweeping boy band perfection, he explains that this new music is “a statement of intent”. Gone are the saccharine, dance-tinged pop beats heard on his 2017 and 2018 collaborations with Bebe Rexha and Steve Aoki. Instead, his latest single “Kill My Mind” is a nineties rock-inspired anthem that sounds like an ode to Oasis. “I spent a long time treading water working out where I fit in the industry,“ he says. “I had to work out what it is I can actually get away with, and just how much I have to play for radio,” explaining that he did the aforementioned collaborations “because I felt like I had Tomlinson says that, unlike former bandmates Zayn Malik and Liam Payne, both of who have released music obviously influenced by hip-hop and R&B, “I can’t really relate to the urban-leaning sounds you hear on American radio”. Instead, he cites Catfish And The Bottlemen as an influence (“Lyrically, it’s conversational and honest”) and spends his time listening to Apple Music playlist “Kebab On The Night Bus”, which features bands such as The Arctic Monkeys, The Stone Roses, The Who and Idles . The result is a solo output that, finally, makes him feel “really excited and really proud. This is where I want to be.

So what does he want this new music to say about him, other than he likes guitar music? “I want people to look at me as a good and credible songwriter.” Overall, what I want from my lyrics is honesty,” he elaborates. “I want it to be real. I don’t want them to feel Hollywood or contrived.” Most of the album is “very autobiographical”, but he’s also taken care to keep it “exciting”, after listening to the earliest version of it and feeling that “A lot of it sounded quite sad.” Tomlinson, who lost his younger sister earlier this year, references the single before “Kill My Mind”, “Two Of Us”, which is about his late mother, Johannah Deakin, who passed away in 2016 after a battle with leukaemia. “That’s a very, very honest song, but it was also very emotionally heavy. I don’t want to be known as that guy.” What, the stereotypical mope with a guitar? “Yeah, exactly, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. I want people to feel good when they listen to my music. That’s one of the amazing things we had with One Direction.”

Together with Liam Payne, Tomlinson did a lot of the writing for One Direction, which, on reflection, he thinks he was driven to do so that he might find his role in the band. “This isn’t a relatable statement,” he acknowledges, “but I imagine that anyone who’s been in a band or boyband will understand this feeling. There were definitely times in the band that I felt like I could do more or sing more, which is why I actively tried to get better as a writer, because I thought that would be my outlet.”

Now Tomlinson feels like he's found his writing groove, but is he worried the One Direction fans might not like his new music? “Yeah and that’s what creates a bit of a conundrum actually, because that’s very relevant for me,” he says. “I feel like, to a certain degree, we all owe them something. We are where we are because of them, it’s as simple as that.” As my colleagues here at GQ can attest – this 2013 interview with the band got us death threats – upsetting fervent One Direction fans is not an action to be taken lightly. He says that he’s “deliberately included songs on the album that feel a little bit transitional, so it won’t be too alienating towards the fans”. Lyrically, however, he feels like he still “writes what they want to hear, because it’s honest and it’s real and it’s me pouring my heart out”.

But with a ready-made audience come anxiety-inducing benchmarks. “Having the experience of being in 1D was incredible and it’s given me so much to work with, but it’s also hard in terms of expectation, because that was the pinnacle of what we were,” he says sombrely, referring back to the time spent mulling over how to balance making music that’s authentic with finding his place in the mainstream. “If I’d done this interview two years ago, I’d have said to you that if my album doesn’t get to No1 I’ll feel like I’ve failed. It embarrasses me saying that shit out loud now, but it took some real maturity to understand that One Direction wasn’t real life... Everything I’d been shaping my experiences around was something that wasn’t real life, even in the music industry.”

We laugh about those heady days, when he was 18-24, fresh out of Doncaster and making the kind of money 99.9 per cent of us can only ever dream about. “There was a solid time when I spent a long time looking at the most stupid, ridiculous things to spend money on,” he says when I ask him about his own crazy popstar purchases, having read that Liam Payne once bought the Ford Anglia from Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets. “I’ve got a long list of random movie props that starts with the great opener of the leg braces that Tom Hanks wears in Forest Gump. Have I ever got them out? No. I looked at them when I bought them like, ‘Oh, this is amazing,’ but really, I’m not a showy person, I’m not going to have them on display in my house.” Also stored away (“I’ve got Hard Rock Cafe in one cupboard”) are the swords from Kill Bill.

[...]

Has he ever considered retiring out of the public eye? “I’ve thought about that loads of times. It’s only the fans, and the fact I have a point to prove to myself, that keep me getting up every day and getting on to do it,” he says. “When I’m 50, I’m going to go off and get my coaching badges and I’m going to manage some youth team and win the FA Youth Cup with them.” So with all the intense media scrutiny, the feeling that you owe millions of people around the world well, something, and a hugely successful stint as a musician already under his belt, what’s he’s still trying to prove with his solo career? “People and the press love to say, ‘Oh, A and B will do well, but the rest of the lads, they’re not going to do anything.’ So my point I’m trying to prove is that I’m still going to be here in ten years, I hope”.

#louis tomlinson #press #kmm: british gq #kill my mind promo #19sep19 #it's not the full thing

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deviantindetroit · 5 years ago

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Dream Come True

Part 1: A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes

Connor x GN! Reader

A/N: I am currently rewriting this fic, chapters will be taken down then reposted

You did it. You finished your first playthrough of Detroit. It wasn’t easy and it didn’t go as planned. Let’s run through the outcomes you received. Connor is a deviant now. The sweet baby boy that you so often refer to hugs Hank. Then, the game ends. Somewhere off in the distance, Markus and North are together leading the deviants towards a better future. All seems better in Detroit. But not everyone got to see the emancipation that you had a hand in bringing. Simon died on the roof because you choose to shoot him. Luther wasn't well off either. He died because of you. You were the one who sacrificed him while helping Kara and Alice. If I were to give you a second chance, would you make the same choices? Do you think you could save everyone? Or would you lose all those you care about?

Are you ready to try? Maybe you can do better than I ever could.

…

You sit in your room staring at the screen euphorically. The game was over.

“Hell yeah!” The credits roll, and you're giddy after getting a decent outcome in your first playthrough. You check the time to find that it's only 20:26 and debate whether to play again. The screen changes again. Chloe appears before you.

“Chloe! What do you think I should do?” She fidgets on the screen before locking her eyes on yours. She then asks you to set her free. You're shocked. It had never occurred to you that Chloe could deviate. The options linger on the screen, and she looks to get increasingly worried.

“If…” She perks at your voice, almost as if she is listening, “If I let you go, will I ever see you again?”

She smiles softly, then she noticeably nods. You take this as a sign and decide to release her. You look down at the remote and hesitate.

How could you say no? Especially after the “friendship” you built. The fact is that Chloe always made your day. After a long day of university classes and work, you usually come home to study. But then one day, a friend had given you the game. Suddenly, you had an outlet to destress with.

Chloe was the face that you saw after all your hard work. She was there to greet you without fault, and she didn’t hold your choices against you. She knew you were only trying your best. You were saddened by the idea of her leaving, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of you to keep her. She may not be real, but you love her all the same.

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don’t, they never were.

You press the button and glance at the screen. Chloe smiles brightly.

“Goodbye Y/-” you flinch in surprise at the loud chime of your phone. You were upset that your phone had pulled you away from your last moment with Chloe. By the time you look back at the screen, she is gone.

“See you later Chloe.” The menu loads up and there is no one on the screen. You stare at the empty spot where your friend once stood. “What do I do now? New story? Nah, maybe I should visit the chapter where I lost Luther and try to save him.” You sit there debating but get frustrated.

“It’s not the same without you, Chloe!” Your eyes wander to extras. “That’s it, character art! I can see all my waifus and husbandos!”

Connor is the first character you see, and you buy all of his character art. “Aw, you look so good! My baby boy looks nice in everything. Even in the rain and in the dark. He’s so perfect!” Connor stands there motionless and lifeless. You can’t help but compare him to Chloe.

She was so lifelike, especially in your last moments with her. The character art is not cutting it. You leave the screen on but focus your attention on your phone. You grab it to look for Detroit x Reader fics. On the screen, you see the notification from before. It was a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

123-456-7890: See you soon

“See you soon?” You type up a quick response, “Sorry, wrong number my dude.”

After hitting send, you see their typing bubble pop-up. You wait only for it to disappear with no response. You shrug it off before closing the app and looking for some juicy fics. 21:01.

“I can read a few fics before bed. Or just stay up all night. Not like I have plans. Hmm, let’s start with some headcanons!” Your eyes scan the titles listed on the screen.

How they ask you out…

You squeal, “Perfect!” Then you fall into the endless abyss of one-shots and headcanons.

~ A Few Hours Later ~

“NO!” Your poor phone finally died after your four-binge. “It was at 65% like two minutes ago.”

You groan and begrudgingly move to plug your phone in. As you were about to plug it in, you noticed something in your reflection on the screen. Right on your temple rested a yellow LED. Your free hand moves toward your own temple. Before you can lay a finger on it, the color turned bright red. You start to mildly panic and close your eyes.

After taking a couple of deep breaths, you open your eyes and find that the LED was gone. This didn’t make any sense. You decide to blame the lights in your room for the illusion.

You sigh, “This game is driving me crazy. I can’t believe I seriously imagined that.” With your phone plugged in, you did your nightly routine and get comfy. You guess it is around 1:30ish at this point and you try to get some sleep. As you lay there, you start to come up with your own fic. You imagine yourself befriending the androids and slowly falling in love with Connor. Just as you were slipping away into unconsciousness, your phone turns on. You glance towards your screen and see the logo pop-up. Knowing it’ll be over in a few seconds, you close your eyes and try to continue your little daydream.

The strain on your eyes only gets worse. The light is blinding even with your eyes closed, “Damn technology, you're a cruel mistress.” You feel around for your phone, intending to turn it over. But you pull your hand away when you touch it.

“Fuck!” Your phone had burned your hand. You were wide awake now and worried your phone was going to explode or start a fire. You try to squint and look towards your phone, but the light dazes you. You try again, but the light consumes every corner of your vision. Then, you notice that it’s also coming from your tv screen. There’s a faint buzzing happening too. It gets louder and stronger. Then your bed starts to shake violently. You start to feel really dizzy. The feeling gets worse, and you feel a sharp pain in your right temple. You pass out after a few more seconds of the tremors.

…

You wake up with the light from your window shining in your eyes. You have vague memories of the night before, yet you convince yourself it was nothing but a dream. You check the time on your phone to see that it’s only 7:15. You intend to stay in bed and scroll through your feed, but your bladder has other plans. You groan and decide to make your way towards your attached bathroom. When you stand, you're hit with deja vu. There was a strong feeling that you were in the wrong place. You stay in place and look around you're room. It was the same, but you had some doubts.

"When was the last time I cleaned? I don't think my room has ever been this clean." Upon closer inspection, you notice that your stuff looks strange, almost unnatural. It's almost as if your room is a sitcom set. It doesn't look as if a person lived in this room.

You do another scan of your environment. You catalog your stuff and stop at the door. The more you stared at it, the odder it became.

"That's my..." You stepped closer to it. You move carefully as if you were approaching a wild animal. You notice the pain in your temple increase. It's a hot searing pain. The pain does nothing to stop you. When you're hand touches the doorknob, the pain disappears. There was no trace of the heat you once felt.

'It's just a closet.' You think, 'But why didn't I know that. Why did I forget about it.' You open the door to find a giant walk-in closet, stocked with your clothes and new items you hadn't seen before. You wander in and your jaw drops. Any article of clothing that you had admired, before was here. Whether you had previously owned it or not, it was now in your closet. You grab a new jacket and admire it. None of this seemed real to you.

The jacket in your hand seemed unworn. It looked brand new. 'Well of course it is. This isn't mine... Yes, it is.' You feel the thought echo in your head. You shake your head and drop the jacket. You move away from it and instead grab something you recognize, your favorite shirt.

It didn't feel right. You had worn this shirt hundreds of times, but this couldn't be right. Like the discarded jacket, your shirt felt brand new. You push the discomfort into the back of your head and leave your closet.

The feeling doesn't leave when you enter your room. You don't feel at home here. You once again scan your room and stop at another door. The second door of the three here. You walk towards it, and the pain starts again. Just as before the pain stops when you grab the doorknob.

The thought pops up in your head, 'It's your bathroom.' You open the door, and you find a luxury bathroom. There are a separate shower and tub. The tub has jets, from what you can see. You walk in, and you're met with the smell of your favorite incense. The room was spotless and foreign to the one you remember. You want to question your environment, but your bladder reminds you of an urgent matter.

Once the bidet finished its water show, you begin to wash your hands. You feel the pressure in your temple build again. Looking up at your reflection, you’re met with the same LED as before. This time it started off as blue before changing to orange. Then as soon as you blink, the pressure and the LED are gone.

“Welp that’s it, I’ve gone batshit crazy.” You laugh, “Hey *insert favorite insane character here* hit me up, baby. I’m ready to fuck shit up!” You wash your face and fix your appearance. Moving back towards your room, you jump into bed and stare at the ceiling.

I've always had a walk-in closet, right? And that bathroom." You grab your pillow and bring it towards your chest. You hug it and try to rationalize your environment. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You have to do a double-take when you smell something foreign. You blindly sniff and notice that the smell is coming from your pillow.

It doesn't smell like you or your usual detergent. Instead, it smelled like women's perfume. It unfamiliar but strangely inviting. You take another quick sniff and smile. 'Why does this smell so good?' You reach for your phone to check the time.

When you finally get it, the lock screen seems to glitch. But you don’t have time to investigate.

*bang, bang, bang*

Someone is knocking on your door. The sound is loud, and you jump. “Who the heck can that be? I don’t have any friends.” You leave your phone and get somewhat decent enough to answer the door. When you open the bedroom door, you’re hit with a sense of another unfamiliarity.

This feels stronger than you felt from your room. 'Your room has always been that way ... Yeah, my room has always been like that, the rest of my home was not the same.' You were currently looking at a new hallway. You peek your head out your door and scan your new environment. Besides your own door, you see two more. On the opposite end of the hall, you see the beginning of a staircase.

“What. The. Fuck.” You step back into your room and close the door. You wait a moment before opening the door again.

“Nope.” You do it again.

“Nuh-uh.” One more time.

You start to panic, in your hysterics, you begin to laugh. “What kind of tomfoolery is this?” You aren’t allowed to repeat your actions when your visitors start to knock again.

*bang, bang, BANG*

You leave the door open and walk towards your window. You hope that you can catch a glimpse of your guests but unfortunately, you find a snowy backyard. “Well, la di da, looks like I’m a homeowner now.” This is not the apartment you had fallen asleep in. You bang your head on the window frame and consider your options.

You could hide up here until your intruders leave or you can go greet them. You sigh and slowly make your way toward your new hallway. You stop in the doorway and take a deep breath. Your anxiety was building, and you can feel your heart heavily beating.

“Okay, I have to leave my room at some point. Better now than never.” You move into the hall and feel the temperature drop. The house was cold and uninviting. You felt like the intruder in this house. Your stomach drops, and you want nothing more than to jump into your bed and hide under the covers. You freeze and you can feel the anxiety build.

Taking a deep breath, you walk forward and head toward the staircase. At the bottom, you see a kitchen on your left, the front door on your right, and a living room right in front of you.

*bang, BANG, BANG*

You jump, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. You look through the peephole and you find two familiar faces. On the other side of the door stood Connor and Hank. The burning on your temple starts to burn when you see them. You ignore the pain and reach for the doorknob when the knocking continued.

*BANG, BANG, BANG*

You jump and a small shriek escapes your lips. Your heart is pounding, and you try to calm yourself but it’s not working.

“DPD, open up!” Hank's voice reaches your ears. The shock does little to help your deteriorating state. Your sight starts the narrow and you feel like you're going to faint. The burning gets stronger and you feel close to passing out. In your increasing panic, you don’t hear the mumbling on the other side of the door.

You fall to your knees. The pain is excruciating. Tears start to run steam down your cheeks. A hand gently touches your shoulder, and the pain disappears. A sob escapes your lips, but choke back the rest of your tears. There is a soothing hand rubbing circles on your back and you hear words of comfort.

“Breath, you’re okay. We got you. You’re safe, I got you. Take a deep breath with me.” Connor continues to rub your back and helps you control your breathing. Your fists unclench and you feel some tension escape your body. Fatigue washes over you and the tears keep rolling down your cheeks. You close your eyes and try to follow Connor’s instructions.

Connor stops his instructions and starts to speak with Hank, “Lieutenant, they are having an increased heartbeat and shortness of breath. Along with shaking and sweating, I believe they were having an anxiety or panic attack.”

Hank sighs, “I can see that Connor. I’ll be right back.” You hear the footsteps distance themselves and open your eyes. Connor kneels beside you. He looks worried and offers you a small smile. You let out a shaky breath and pull him into a hug.

Here before you, sat one of your comfort characters. ‘He’s here. He’s real.’ You hold onto him tightly and a soft sob leaves your lips when he wraps his arms around you. You close your eyes and begin to pull away. When your face to face with him, you open your eyes again. You stare at him in shock. He looked so real, nothing like the character art you saw last night. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, but you saw Hank walking back and you stopped your motion.

He was coming from the direction of your kitchen with a glass of water. “Here you go kid, drink up.” He handed you the glass. It was shaking in your hands, but you gladly took a sip. After drinking more than half, Connor took the glass from your hands and handed it back to Hank.

Connor looks at you and begins to stand. He helps you stand with him. Your legs are weak, and you rely on Connor to guide you to the living room. Once you’re sitting on the couch, he leaves and makes his way toward the kitchen. Hank sits on the other sofa and watches you. Your breath is still shaky, and Hank tries to speak to you. He can’t seem to find the right words to say so he gives up and just stares at his hands.

Connor returns to the living room empty-handed and sits beside Hank. “Your breathing and heart rate have gone down. You seem to be shaking slightly but you have improved. Are experiencing any dry mouth, numbness, headache, or dizziness?”

You’re a bit overwhelmed and shake your head. After the pain from your temple disappeared you felt better. These were just lingering symptoms from whatever that was.

In the kitchen, you can hear the whistle of a kettle. It causes you to jump a bit.

“No worries, I am only making you a tea.” Connor moves back toward the kitchen. Hank turns to you. He seems tense but starts his questioning.

“We came here to ask about a case, but you don’t seem too good kid. What do you say I leave my card and you can call us later today?” Hank starts to shuffle through his wallet and pulls out a card and places it on the coffee table.

You think about calling later but you didn’t want to be left alone in this strange place. “No. I. I think it might be better if you ask now. I’m feeling better.” Hank raises an eyebrow at your response and gives you a once over.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. It’s okay, we can come back later.” Hank begins to stand but you stop him.

“No! I mean, no. I’m fine. Really. Please just ask your questions.” He’s a bit surprised by your outburst but he sits down anyway.

“Okay, fine.” He leans forward and places his hands on his knees. “You are Ms./Mr. L/n, right.” You don’t know how he knows your name, but you nod.

“Please call me, Y/n.” He continues.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson from DPD. At 2 a.m. this morning there was a murder. Our suspect was AP400 named Luis. We want to know any information you may have about him.” Hank watches your movements and waits for your response.

“I’m sorry but I have never met nor heard about Luis until now.” Hank scratches his chin and hums.

“Well, we seem to believe that he knows you. Inside his home, we found rA9, and your name is written all over the walls. Are you sure you haven’t noticed anything strange? We aren’t suspecting you. We just want to make sure you and the public are safe. He, unfortunately, has had many victims.” He sits back on the couch.

You take a shaky breath, “No. I’m sorry I can’t be more help. I don’t know anything.”

“That fine, maybe you might know some of the victims. Please stop by the department, we can review names and pictures together. Hopefully, you’ll have some information about them.” Hank sighs and stands up. “Well, you have my card. Please call if you find anything. If you feel unsafe or need anything, call DPD. I’m sure they’ll gladly send a patrol over.”

Hank offers you his hand. You shake his hand and follow him toward the door. Then you both remember about Connor. In the kitchen, Connor is standing against the wall. His eyes are moving rapidly but he doesn’t move. ‘Is this his analysis thing? What is he looking for?’

You and Hank watch him. Connor snaps out of it and looks at you suspiciously. His LED is glowing yellow. “Ms./Mr. L/n, do you have an android?”

You respond quickly, “No.” You don’t give any more details in fear that he might catch you in a lie.

“I see. Lieutenant may I speak to you for a second.” Hank doesn’t get to respond before Connor pulls him aside. You stand there and try to figure out what’s going on.

Wanting to look calm and natural you move toward the kettle to pour a glass. The burning on your temple starts again and you urgently look for the mugs and tea. You hope that when you find them the pain will disappear. In your frantic state, you miss the opportunity to listen in on the conversation between the two men.

You find the items quickly and serve yourself a nice warm cup of your favorite tea. They return and Connor looks apprehensive.

“Thank you for your cooperation Y/n. Please contact the DPD when you’re ready.” Hank nods toward you and walks away. Connor follows silently. You walk with them toward the door and watch them hop into their car. Once they had driven away you close the door. You lean against it and slide onto the ground.

“What the absolute fuck am I going to do? I’m stuck in a fucking video game.” You set your mug beside you on the ground then rest your face in your palms. ‘Is there something I need to do? How can I get home? Will I ever go back?’ A few minutes pass while you are spiraling. You want to cry but you hold back the tears.

‘I can’t panic. I can’t just give up. I mean, I’m living the dream! Most fans would love to be in my position. I can simp for my husbandos and waifus in person! And hopefully, bump nasties. I can do this. I can live a good life here and who knows maybe I’ll get the chance to go home. Yeah! Maybe there’s something I have to do.’

With your newfound determination, you stand up and pick up your mug. You ditch the mug on the coffee table in the living room and then grab the card. You run upstairs to get ready and head to the DPD. When you grab your phone, you’re met with a text.

Elijah Kamski: Call me

‘The hell?’ You open your phone but the screen is empty. All your apps, pictures, customizations were gone. It’s as if your phone had been factory reset. Only your lock screen looked the same. You check your contacts and see Kamski’s number and nothing else.

In your messages, you see the text from last night and Kamski’s text but nothing else. After starring at the screen for a few seconds, you decide to call him.

#connor x reader #rk800 x reader #rk800 imagine #connor imagine #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 #rk800 #dbh imagine #dbh #detroit #detroit become human #detroit: become human #detroit: connor #gender neutral!reader #gn!reader #connor x gn! reader #connor x gender neutral! reader

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sethrine-writes · 5 years ago

Text

I Will Fight This War For You (Hold On), Ch. 2

Pairing: Connor x Female Reader

Words: 5442

Chapter Warning: Fluff, Jealous Connor, Worried Connor, Serious Tones

Story Summary: “Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two.”

Your investigation into the string of deaths of both humans and androids takes a drastic turn when a victim is purposely left alive. The killer’s intent is the same, to prove a point you have yet to figure out. The change, however, is the power of choice.

Stress and exhaustion lead you astray as you and Connor are both thrust into a war between the mind and the heart. You can only hope everyone involved makes it out alive.

IMPORTANT A/N: This is a repost from my previous blog of a DBH fic I started over a year ago in response to a challenge a friend of mine posted up, at the time. I’ve also gone through and edited/cleaned up each chapter for a better reading experience! I’ll be posting a chapter or two every day until I’ve posted all current chapters, and then I’ll be updating with a brand new chapter for the first time in nearly a year!

Inspired by the song Torn In Two by Breaking Benjamin.

------

Chapter 2 - A Tide of War and Broken Dreams

The park was lovely during the early evening hours, the sun barely on its ending trek toward the horizon, ready to cast the baby blue sky in brilliant colors. Rays of sunlight bounced off patches of undisturbed snow in such a way that it twinkled gently as you swayed on your feet, shivering ever so slightly.

The cold was embracing, honestly, and it had you feeling lively despite your current exhaustion. You had even taken a handful of snow earlier and pressed it to your face, the shock of the action waking you like nothing else.

Connor, however, had been unamused by your jittery antics and continued to be a worry-wart as you shrugged off another shiver. Between him and Hank, it was a wonder you hadn’t developed an ulcer on their behalf.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in the car until they arrive? The temperature is twenty-four degrees and will continue dropping-”

“I’m fine, Connor,” you assured for the third time since coming to a stop at the park bridge, huffing out a laugh at his worried expression.

He'd begun fussing over you when you had woken up from a brief nap after last night's shift and had continued to do so nearly all day, much to your amused chagrin.

As expected, you had helped Hank with his paperwork and finished a few files of your own before heading home sometime around three that morning. Once back at your cozy abode, you'd taken to reviewing the interrogation video regarding Anthony. You sat for hours trying to pick apart what he had said, using the small nuances of his voice as well as his movements to help you better understand what he was trying to tell you right before he left the room.

“Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two.”

Sleep had been hard to come by during the past few weeks, but after last night’s turn in the case, you were lucky your body allowed you a brief two hours of uninterrupted sleep over your at-home desk before you were back into the case files with restless energy. The crick in your neck hadn’t been pleasant, though Connor had done an excellent job at massaging out most of the pain, despite his initial plan to most likely put you back to sleep with the soothing pressure.

“I believe it would be best to seek someplace warmer,” Connor urged, his words coming out in a rush, almost as if he were trying to hold back from saying anything more. “You’ve been stressed lately, which has drastically compromised your immune system's ability to-"

“Connor, sweetheart, I'm fine,” you insisted with a groan, effectively cutting off his rambling by turning toward him and giving an exasperated smile. “Look, I’m all bundled up in my big coat, and a scarf, and I’ve got a nice, hot cup of honey lemon tea warming my hands, since you so vehemently urged me to lay off the coffee.”

You emphasized your words by holding up the paper container from the coffee shop you had stopped at before setting out to the park, giving the half-empty container a little shake. Connor looked sheepish, but still had the audacity to sigh heavily, the action completely unnecessary and only meant to showcase his slight frustration through action. You rolled your eyes at the theatrics, but smiled all the same.

“If it makes you feel any better, we’ll be in a nice, warm space as soon as we meet up with the others,” you placated, moving closer to place your head against his chest while wrapping your free arm around his back.

Connor returned your embrace rather quickly by pulling you even closer, snugly fitting you against him. He was warm and comforting through the thick layers of clothing separating you, and you realized a moment too late that he had planned your snuggles from the start, knowing you would want to comfort him after he became huffy over your own exasperation, and had purposely increased his core body temperature to warm you.

Having an analytical boyfriend who learned your every quirk had its ups and downs. In that moment, it had to be somewhere in the middle, seeing that you were both irked and endeared by the thought behind such a clever play of events.

“You are insufferable, sometimes,” you groaned, leaning into him more heavily. Connor only chuckled, knowing he had been caught.

“I think you enjoy it,” he said.

“Oh, no, you caught me,” you mumbled against his coat in a mock surprised tone, earning you a quick peck to the top of your head and, undoubtedly, a gentle smile.

Time seemed to slow as you relaxed fully into Connor's embrace, the warmth of his hug and the slow, smooth motion of his hand rubbing at your back lulling you with its comfort. Your eyes had slipped closed without your knowledge within seconds, and the cup of tea in your hand would have surely fallen, had your arm not been curled just so between you and Connor.

For a minute, you were blissfully falling into a fitting sleep against your clever boyfriend.

“Look at you two lovebirds!”

Startled, you pulled away from Connor and turned quickly, nearly dropping your tea with the sudden movement. Connor placed a steadying hand between your shoulders as your eyes focused fully on the small group approaching, a grin spreading across your face.

Simon was ahead of the pack, his bright blue gaze joyful as he rushed forward and pulled you into a hug. From over his shoulder, you could see North grinning at you, with Josh and Markus just slightly behind, talking to themselves as they approached.

The joyous laughter that escaped you couldn’t be stopped.

“Simon! It's so good to see you,” you exclaimed, pulling away to better look at him. He had a wide smile set in place, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked over your features with extreme fondness.

You could remember a time when he had been leery of you, as had North, and yet here they were, almost more eager to greet you as you were them.

Connor had introduced you to Markus, who then introduced you to everyone else, shortly after the revolution, and though it was a bit of a rocky start, you couldn’t dream of a better group of individuals to call your friends.

Simon had been on the cautious side, afraid to trust, and you couldn’t blame him. Now, he was perhaps your closest friend, always smiling openly and sharing his thoughts with you without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you so deeply.

“I’m happy to see you, too. It's been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Couple months, at the most,” you replied, “but who's counting?”

Simon gave a short chuckle, his hand sliding to your free one and giving it a gentle squeeze. You returned the gesture, watching his smile widen with the action. For a moment, he seemed content to just stand there, holding your hand without a care in the world.

He startled when North appeared beside him suddenly, placing a hand to his shoulder to gain his attention. She eyed him in amusement as he looked a bit flustered, his gaze darting back to you and briefly over your shoulder.

He stepped aside quickly, smiling to you once more, albeit a bit more forced, allowing North to move in and wrap you up in her arms. You returned the embrace without much more thought on the strange interaction, humming pleasantly.

She had been the hardest of the group to befriend, at first not wanting to even so much as be in the same room as you. With Markus' gentle persistence in properly getting to know you, however, North came to learn that you could be trusted, that you held no malice for android kind and only ever wanted to help and aid in their cause.

From there, a tentative friendship formed, and it grew with each passing day.

“Missed you guys so much,” you mumbled against her shoulder before pulling away with a huff of breath. She smiled genuinely at you, in turn.

“Can't believe we've been gone for so long,” she said, pulling away with a groan. “You wouldn’t believe the shit we’ve had to sit through. Feels good to be back home for a little while.”

“Remind us never to go so long without seeing that smiling face of yours, again,” Josh intervened teasingly, swooping in for a hug of his own and a peck to your cheek, his attention turning immediately to Connor afterward to continue his greetings.

You grinned at the affectionate attention, recalling how easily Josh had taken to getting to know you. He always saw the good in others and believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt, which led to many a friendly conversation between you both. It was only natural that you would grow closer in such a short time, and the easy way he acted with you was proof enough.

You finally turned to face the last of the group who stood before you, patiently awaiting his moment for pleasantries.

“Markus,” you called out warmly, watching his smile widen at your greeting. A gloved hand immediately came out before him, expecting a handshake, though your pause had him chuckling. You quirked your brow at him, amused, and watched as he changed tactics and held out both arms to you. You rushed forward and embraced him as you did the others, humming delightedly against his shoulder.

“No handshakes, only hugs,” you mumbled, pulling away to give Markus a good once-over. He was dressed warmly in a long coat, gloves made of soft leather, and though you knew that androids couldn’t quite feel the cold as humans could, the look was cozy and appealing.

Goodness, but you had missed him.

“Business meetings have already trained me to greet with a handshake,” Markus said by way of explanation. “You know I meant nothing by it.”

“Of course,” you grinned, unable to keep your giddy happiness at bay. “God, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“As am I. I've missed you, just as much as the others have,” he said, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His smile dropped then, expression a bit curious as his eyes roved over your features. “How have you been?”

“Alright,” you answered with a sigh, reaching up to pat at one of his hands to lessen any worries he might have had.

Markus was always very good at picking up on things, and it didn’t help that your exhaustion was probably more obvious than you wanted to admit

“This case has been an utter nightmare. Haven’t been sleeping as well as I could, but go figure, right?”

Markus hummed at your answer, eyes roving over your features curiously. He had always been like that as long as you’d known him, curious and eager to learn, always wanting to be better, do better, in hopes of being half the man his father figure had set him out to be.

You knew, without a doubt, Carl would have been so proud of everything he had done and what he would continue to accomplish.

“Perhaps you'll rest easier tonight,” Markus said softly, hands leaving your cheeks. You hadn’t realized how warm the leather had been against your cold skin, almost instantly missing the touch.

You watched as Markus' gaze moved and lingered behind you, his expression becoming a bit more serious. You turned to the side, finding that Connor was approaching with an equally serious look upon his face. He gave a short nod after a lingering silence.

“Hello, Markus.”

“Connor. You look well,” Markus replied, earning a small lilt of a smile. Connor then reached forward and clasped arms with Markus, a mutual greeting they had with each other, before pulling away with a more genuine grin. Any perceivable tension all but vanished between them, leaving behind a much friendlier atmosphere.

“How have negotiations been?” Connor asked.

“As well as can be expected. Our rights are within our grasp, though lacking several signatures to finalize the documents. A permanent Bill will be enacted by the end of this week, and a list of laws, including any unjust action toward androids, will follow soon after its signing.”

“Good to know,” Connor commented. “I know how difficult it must have been, but the laws couldn’t have come at a more appropriate time.”

“So I've heard,” Markus replied, eyes growing hard. “You mentioned things were suddenly more complicated with your investigation.”

“Moreso than we initially thought, unfortunately.”

“Alright, then. Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere more private, and preferably much warmer for you?”

Markus' gaze fell to you at his query, and you immediately perked at the notion.

“That sounds fantastic, actually,” you answered, pausing at the affronted look Connor gave you. “What?”

“At least you take someone's advice,” he said, his tone playful despite the disbelieving face he was pulling. You rolled your eyes yet again, reaching for Connor and linking your arm with his. Behind you, Josh was making some sort of comment, most likely one at your expense, before being effectively cut off by a jab of Simon's elbow into his side.

“There's a public library nearby,” Markus spoke up. “We can talk there.”

---

The upper section of the library had its own lounge area, the perfect, quiet place to discuss things with your company without others interfering. It helped that the staff was very cooperative, ensuring that the upper floor remained off-limits until you were all ready to leave.

The group took to their own areas of comfort; Markus and Connor stood across from the lounge you, North, and Simon sat upon, while Josh leaned against the back of a chair to your left. You had even taken off your coat and scarf, placing them within the empty chair at your right.

Everyone was focused as you and Connor relayed information pertaining to your current investigation, vital info they were privy to only because of the person of interest and the victims involved in the cases.

“So the suspect is an android,” Markus stated, having processed the majority of what you and Connor had explained. “You're sure of this?”

“Anthony seemed genuine when describing his attacker,” you responded in affirmation. “We had previously profiled him as human, but Anthony was very clear to establish the suspect was an android."

“This is very unprecedented,” Markus murmured, brows furrowing in confusion. “It would make more sense if your suspect was human, but an android attacking other androids in such a manner…I can’t deny there have been a few problems with our transition into society, but nothing this extreme.”

“Problems? Have there been android-on-android attacks?” you questioned, shocked.

Surely the DPD would have picked up on some of the crimes, and even if you hadn’t been assigned to them, surely there would have been talk about androids going at each other, especially among the more intolerant officers.

“Nothing that led to any physical violence,” North spoke up from beside you, which affirmed your lack of knowledge on the matter. “Just verbal attacks on differing opinions, some minor backlash between those wanting to lash out at humans and those understanding that it will take time and careful effort to normalize our lives.”

You supposed it made sense. Not all androids would be up for a peaceful resolution, especially after the way a good majority of them had been treated by those humans they were made to obey. North, especially, had once been on track with violence, as she had believed there was no other way to reason with humans. Still, most seemed to side with Markus and the careful, civil approach he was taking to ensure all androids had all the rights of a human being.

“Ever since our peaceful victory,” Markus continued, “we’ve maintained a close network between many of our people to ensure safety. We all have a common goal, and we have, thus far, continued on the path of civility so that we may all live amongst each other comfortably in the foreseeable future."

“Well, someone obviously didn’t get the memo,” you deadpanned, throwing back the last of your lukewarm tea before tossing the paper cup into a nearby trashcan with a mild grimace.

“Hold on, wouldn’t we have heard something from one of our informants?” Josh questioned in disbelief. “I mean, it feels like someone would have noticed something off, especially to this magnitude.”

“Not necessarily,” Connor answered. “If we believe our suspect to be an android, it's highly possible he's someone within our circle. He would be harder to detect when under the trust of the very man who led the revolution, and it would be much easier to keep a low profile.”

“Is it possible that there’s more than one person behind everything?” Simon asked, throwing out an idea.

“Unlikely,” Connor shut down quickly. “No previous evidence hints at more than one suspect, and with Anthony's testimony taken into account, there is nothing else to suggest multiple offenders.”

Ideas and concerns continued to bounce around the group, valid points being brought up only to get squashed by conflicting evidence to the contrary. It was a confusing mess, just as it had been from the start, and it felt like the case was, once again, coming to a dead end.

You sighed through your nose, closing your eyes as you tried to piece together what you already knew in the vain hope of figuring out something that would help.

The suspect was currently being considered an android that was kidnapping both humans and androids. From the first two cases, there were two victims each, where the victims knew each other in some manner. The third case added an extra victim, human, but the setup was the same: one victim was tortured with small injections of blue blood while the others were made to watch.

The motive was still unclear, but to you, it felt like the suspect was sending a message. The first two cases might have been just practice rounds, and the third was possibly the suspect adjusting the variables, perfecting his method by adding something the other two cases didn’t have.

“A choice,” you whispered, eyes opening in mild confusion. Anthony's parting words to you began to play in your head yet again with the small revelation.

“Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two.”

“Hey, are you alright?”

You turned at the sound of your name and the gentle touch of a hand upon your knee, finding Simon looking at you in worry. You hadn’t realized you were being so quiet and pensive as everyone else dove into the discussion. Even now, North was bringing up some sort of misunderstanding between an android and human she had overheard, the topic clearly having redirected itself in some way, as both Josh and Markus corrected some of her exaggerated details.

“Yeah…yeah, I'm good,” you answered quietly, not wanting to interrupt the others.

Simon's light grip on your knee tightened, a gentle prodding for you to talk to him. You sighed again, smile weary as you placed your hand over his and took hold of his fingers. Your friends sure were good at figuring you out, and Simon...you could tell Simon anything.

“I'm exhausted,” you murmured sincerely, reaching up with your free hand and rubbing at your dry, aching eyes. “This whole investigation has me so anxious to solve it. I can’t sleep, not for very long, at least, without the details running circles in my head. I'm constantly queasy, and my head aches, but I just want to catch this guy before more people get hurt.”

Simon gave a small hum of sympathy, his hand twisting in yours until he was able to smooth his thumb along your knuckles. The motion was grounding, calming, something he had taken to doing during times you were in distress. The action never failed to ease your racing thoughts.

“It must be hard to have all these details on your conscience,” he said, “but you need rest. It's not safe to be so tired, especially in your line of work.”

“I know,” you admitted, words grumbling in your frustration. “I just…I wish I could piece all this stuff together and figure out why this guy is doing this. Everything’s just a big mess right now in my head.”

“Maybe you could try bouncing ideas off me? I know we’ve technically been doing that already with everyone else, but…maybe it would help having just one person to talk to, instead of five talking over you.”

You looked up at Simon, his gaze still showing concern, but just as equally, there was an eagerness there to help in anyway he could. Smiling, you leaned toward him and bumped your shoulders together in a friendly manner.

“Yeah, okay. Can’t hurt to try, I guess.”

Simon smiled gently, fingers squeezing yours before his thumb continued the slow, methodical movement across your knuckles once more.

“Okay, tell me all the details again.”

---

Across the way, Connor watched you. His eyes roamed over the scene before him as if he was looking over evidence for analysis. He lingered on your hand clasped in Simon's own, how he touched your skin with gentle, unending strokes. You were speaking quietly with him, leaned in close, body relaxed and comfortable within the other's presence.

He realized quickly that what he felt at that moment was jealousy. Connor knew that, when it came to Simon in particular, he felt jealous because of your easy relationship with the other android. He hated that he could feel such a way over someone you both considered a friend, but it was there, an ugly beast of an emotion that clawed at him from deep within, stuttering his thirium pump and twisting his inner mechanisms with vicious intent.

Connor had only felt such a way a handful of times, flashes of heated envy over something that was so trivial in every sense of the word. Honestly, it seemed petty to be jealous over a friendship that brought you ease, a friendship that you had truly felt most comfortable in.

But he could not help the way his emotions were swayed when it came to you.

He didn’t like the way Simon sent almost longing gazes in your direction, as if hoping you would notice his stare as more than friendly. He didn’t like that Simon touched you so freely, and you did nothing to deter him. He especially didn’t like how close the other android was to you at that moment, talking with you in a way that seemed much too intimate, a sight that sent his inner processors whirring with a deep seated feeling. Frustration? Maybe anger?

The L.E.D. at his temple was blipping a constant red as his mind reeled into dangerous territory.

Stop.

Simon needed to stop. He needed to stop right now-

“How long has it been, Connor? Seven months?”

Connor blinked once, twice, the clench of his jaw releasing as he registered Markus' voice from beside him. He was asking a question, a question he was easily able to pick up on.

He blinked a third time, tilting his head ever-so-slightly, though keeping his eyes on you. The red at his temple flickered to yellow, retaining the color for the time being.

“Almost eight,” he answered, voice sounding a bit rougher, the barest hint of interference stuttering his words.

He hadn’t realized how absolutely wrecked he was becoming until his thoughts were interrupted. Seething sounded adequate, but he didn’t believe he was that angry…didn’t want to admit it.

“Eight months,” Markus repeated quietly, his echoed words sounding reverently amazed in the best way. “It doesn’t seem like it's been that long, does it? Then again, it feels like forever, being with the right person.”

Markus turned to look at Connor, mismatched eyes narrowing in a serious manner as his brow furrowed.

“You’re lucky to have each other in this time of change. It's easy to see how much you care for her, how much she cares for you. As long as that feeling is there, nothing will tear you apart, not even what your eyes assume is there right before you.”

“I…”

Connor hesitated, his own brow furrowing, doubting. His gaze on you faltered, eyes closing momentarily with self-doubt. He grimaced.

“Have you told her, yet?”

Connor's eyes opened once more, his head slowly turning toward Markus. For a brief moment, Connor’s façade crumbled away, his brief expression conveying the underlying issue behind everything he was feeling. Markus' own eyes widened a fraction, understanding what Connor was saying without speaking a word.

“You're afraid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor harked defensively, looking away from Markus and hiding behind another spark of what he would call anger and definitely not embarrassment. He felt stupid for letting such emotions get the best of him, for letting such things as self-doubt and jealousy completely ravage his systems and lead his thoughts down dangerous paths of action he did not want to take.

Breaking Simon's fingers was not only uncouth and absolutely not a good thing, but it would also upset you greatly. Connor would be upsetting himself if he so much as humored the sudden, brash thought longer than the blip of a second it took to think it, and yet it was still a thought he had come to.

What was wrong with him? Was jealousy always such a potent feeling?

“Simon is a good friend,” Markus went on, ignoring Connor's outburst in favor of continuing his talk with Connor.

“I know that,” Connor conceded.

“Then you must also be aware that she and Simon have a special bond in their friendship, one that was earned mutually through trust and understanding. The best of friends, those two. They can tell each other anything without fear of judgement or worry that their secrets will be spread.”

“I'm…aware.”

“And it scares you to know she can be so free and open with someone else, can rely so heavily on someone else. Your fear holds you back, doesn’t it?”

“I…I don’t want it to,” Connor admitted softly, his voice sounding small as the root of the issue was carefully prodded and plied open by Markus' doing. He looked to you again, watching your tired expression light up at something Simon had said.

He felt helpless when there was nothing to feel helpless about. You were with him, happy with him; at least, he believed you were. You hadn’t expressed anything contrary to that belief, nothing that outwardly expressed any dissatisfaction within your relationship or a want for something he could not readily provide.

Then why was he so…so scared to lose you?

“Simon is infatuated with her,” Connor muttered, the words almost leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, an odd sensation he would have to dissect later. “He shows all the signs of interest. They would…work well together.”

“In another life, maybe so,” Markus agreed, not dissuading Connor's observation. “But she chose you, Connor. She sees something in you that no one else has. She adores you; Simon knows that. He would never hurt either of you in that way. Just like you and me, he only wants what is best for her.”

“I know,” Connor repeated quietly, and Markus smiled.

Markus was worried for a moment, but talking Connor through his feelings seemed to help the detective. He wasn’t nearly as tense as before, and though Markus could tell his friend was still suffering through a combination of emotions, he had peace of mind knowing he had helped Connor better understand the situation presented to him. Even his L.E.D. was flickering between yellow and blue, his thoughts still muddled, but calming quickly.

“You should tell her,” Markus spoke, clasping a hand to Connor's shoulder with the suggestion. He met Connor's gaze, smile quirking the corner of his lips at the hesitant nod his friend gave him.

Markus pulled away just as North took notice that something was amiss, though he gave a slow, single nod to assure her all was well. She looked relieved, though as her eyes looked behind him to Connor, she frowned in confusion.

“Connor?”

---

You looked up from Simon as North called out to your boyfriend, eyes looking to her, then Connor, who was blinking rapidly as his temple held a steady stream of yellow. You recognized the action as an incoming call and jumped up immediately, moving toward him with an anxious flutter in your gut.

Just as you reached him, he regained focus, deep brown eyes looking to you in surprise as he called out your name quietly.

“What do we got?” you asked, watching his face contort into mild concern before smoothing out into a neutral expression. Vaguely, you felt as if you missed something, but you ignored the feeling in favor of Connor's following words.

“Another murder, same set-up as last time, though the officers on-call are only confirming one dead, and nothing more.”

“Shit,” you muttered disdainfully, looking to Markus and the group with an apologetic expression.

“We understand,” Markus spoke calmly, “I'm sorry we couldn’t be of more help to the investigation.”

“Just being able to talk to you guys was enough for me,” you said, pulling him into a hug he was all too prepared to reciprocate. You moved around the room and did the same with the others, aware of Markus and Connor talking behind you.

“Please, keep us updated on the investigation. If there's anything more we can do to help, anything, you know how to reach me.”

“Of course, Markus.”

You pulled away from your final embrace with Simon, turning toward Connor and pausing. He looked hesitant, almost troubled, his brows furrowed and the slightest frown against his lips. You noticed the flicker at his temple, noting the color was still yellow, cautious and inquisitive.

“Connor, what's wrong?”

His eyes instantly snapped to you, the L.E.D. flickering once more before becoming a steady blue. His expression relaxed somewhat as he reached for your hand, your fingers intertwining with his without hesitation.

“Nothing, sorry. We should get going.”

You nodded carefully, confused by his suddenly odd demeanor. Again, the feeling of having missed something was rearing in the back of your mind, but there were more pressing matters at stake. If Connor didn’t want to talk about it now, that was fine. You knew he would eventually come to you for whatever was troubling him.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze as you pulled away briefly to grab your coat and scarf, bundling up cozily and taking his hand once more. You tugged gently as you started up a quick pace toward the stairs, giving Markus and the others a final wave as you made your exit.

“Connor, wait!”

Connor stopped abruptly at the exclamation, forcing you to come to a halt in front of him. You both turned to find Simon had rounded the lounge, seeming surprised by his own outburst. He looked almost indecisive about continuing his train of thought, eyes closing as he took a steadying breath.

“Please…make sure she gets some sort of sleep later. You and I both know how stubborn she can be, but I figured, maybe, you could be just a bit more stubborn, this time.”

The room was quiet. Connor and Simon stared at each other, and though you couldn’t see Connor's expression, the interaction made you nervous in a way you couldn’t explain. Then, Connor gave a small sigh, the action alone breaking the strange, heavy tension with ease.

“I will.”

Simon smiled at the promise, and you were sure it was a promise, unspoken but there. It was Connor's turn to lead you away, as you remained momentarily frozen in your place, unsure of what exactly had just transpired before you.

“What are you guys up to, huh? Doing some sort of secret-android-mind-reading? Conspiring against me?”

Connor chuckled, actually chuckled at your faux put-upon questions, turning to look at you with a smile as soon as you both made it down the stairs. It was a complete 180 turn from his previous mood, and it had you nearly reeling at the change.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered, and you believed him.

For whatever crazy reason, that last-second exchange had put him at ease. You would have to thank Simon next time you had the chance to talk to him.

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #dbh markus #dbh simon #dbh josh #dbh north #reader #reader-insert #torn in two

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dailytomlinson · 5 years ago

Link

Tomlinson says that, unlike former bandmates Zayn Malik and Liam Payne, both of who have released music obviously influenced by hip-hop and R&B, “I can’t really relate to the urban-leaning sounds you hear on American radio”. Instead, he cites Catfish And The Bottlemen as an influence (“Lyrically, it’s conversational and honest”) and spends his time listening to Apple Music playlist “Kebab On The Night Bus”, which features bands such as The Arctic Monkeys, The Stone Roses, The Who and Idles . The result is a solo output that, finally, makes him feel “really excited and really proud. This is where I want to be.”

Still three years shy of 30 and living between London and LA (where he shares a home with his best friend from Doncaster, Olly), Tomlinson seems to have finally found some balance.

#gq magazine #190919 #kmm press #stunt mention #press #louis tomlinson

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conneko · 5 years ago

Text

Sneak peek at another rk1k hunger games AU

—

They find a cave, crouched low enough in the bushes that people might overlook them when visibility is low, if they're lucky enough. Connor helps Markus lie down, and Markus winces at every step. His movements are stuttered, stiff and staggered. The cut around his face crusts with a mix of dried blood and dirt, and his breathing has gone heavier than the humidity of the forest.

His wound bleeds a raging dark red, torn open like the mouth of the cave itself. Connor finds a broken piece of fabric in Markus's satchel and wraps it around his thigh, careful despite Markus's winces.

"You should have focused on gaining more sponsors before this," Connor scolds. "Charming the public is good and all, but it doesn't help you in the arena."

Markus tries to lift himself up to sitting position and he flinches. "I doubt... ah, I doubt they'd let the sponsors hand out endless vats of medicine willy-nilly."

"Still," Connor says, pulling on his bandages a little too tightly. "You should have tried."

"Connor." Markus grasps his hands. "I can hear your nerves from here. I’ll be okay. I've had worse."

"That doesn't make it better, Markus."

"We'll figure something out," Markus says, rubbing his thumb back and forth. "We've gotten this far, haven't we?"

Markus is dangerous, Connor knows, Markus is unbelievably dangerous is how persuasive and damn bright he can be in the darkest situations. It’s his stupid resolve and charisma. Bludgeoned by the sheer hope in Markus's eyes, Connor slumps his shoulders, conceding into his touch.

Markus gives a small smile, a small quirk on his lips. He kisses Connor's hand and pull him to lie beside him, holding him close and burying soothing noises into his hair.

Injured to the literal bone, and Markus is still trying to comfort him. Connor wishes they'd met outside the games. Although, realistically, outside the games, they would have probably never met at all. Here, they're restricted by the cameras; every movement kept under watch; every word filtered in hopes that the Capitol won't find them too offensive.

Connor wants all of Markus's honesty; all of his thoughts and his memories. He doesn't want the diplomatic Markus that comes out when his eyes pass the brush around them. He wants the Markus that comes out in moment like these—where they can pretend that there's nothing in their bubble but the two of them.

He won't ask about his family and friends, like Markus won't ask him about his either. Instead, Connor brushes his hands over Markus's chest, and bundles his head closer to where Connor can hear his heartbeat.

"When did you start painting?" Connor asks. "Do you think you're good at it?"

“I like to think that I am,” Markus says. “Although, I don’t get to do it as often as I liked. And that’s a funny way of asking if I enjoyed it.”

Connor almost pinches him. “You know what I mean. If you’re good at it, then surely you’d enjoy it.”

“Spoken like a true Careers.”

Connor does pinch him this time. Softly, though, and Markus stifles his laughter.

"My adopted father taught me," Markus says. "He taught me how to play the piano too."

I love him very much, Markus doesn't say, but he does squeeze Connor's hand hard enough for the message to come through.

“What about you? What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“As in, hobbies?” Connor frowns. “My brother and I trained often.”

“Oh,” Markus says. “Your twin, right? Do you two get along?”

It’s like a switch has been flipped, and a dam spills open. A flood of despair crashes into him, at the thought that he might never see Nines and Amanda again. This is what he’s been preparing for all his life, and yet, it also isn’t. He loves them and he wants to see them again. Yet, that would mean wining the games, and Markus being dead. That’s something he doesn’t want to delve any deeper.

Connor can tell that Markus already regrets asking his question, his hands running apologetically down Connor’s back. His silence said too much, but then, the Capitol had already held them for ransom. Connor rubs his hips in an attempt at comfort.

“Yes,” Connor says. “I miss him. And my mother.”

And so time passes, hidden in between silent whispers delivered between private touches. Then, Connor can hear it—the synthetic chirping of a parachute making itself known.

"I'll get that," Connor says. "Stay here."

The longer he takes, the more it will attract unwanted attention. Regretfully, he slips Markus's arms off himself and he heads crouches out the cave with his knives drawn. Once Connor has retrieved the parachute from a tree branch, Connor opens the gifts and finds a note tucked in.

Tell lover boy I said 'hi' - Hank

Connor almost smiles. Markus's charm strikes again and his mentor's right; if they keep this up, they might get more sponsorship later on.

"What you've got there?" Markus says, pushing himself to sit up.

"Soup," Connor says, twisting the container open and uncapping the spoon. "Stop moving so fast. I've got this."

"Connor." Markus sighs and reaches for the food. "I'm not going to let you feed me."

Connor stops him with one hand on his chest. "That's exactly what you're going to do. It's the only reason I'm letting you sit up. It's better for digestion, this way."

Markus sighs again, but he does bundle his bag behind his back. The soup is a clear broth which chunks of carrots, chicken, and thin slices of sausages in it. It's on the simpler side in Connor's opinion. It takes Markus effort to chew the substantial bits of the soup down, but from the hunger that folds his face, Connor knows that this is one of the most decadent meal he's had in his life.

"What are those red thing?" Markus asks between his chewing.

“What thing?” Connor tilts his head. He spoons up a slice of sausage. "This one?"

"Yeah," Markus says. "They're... It tastes like wild turkey. But it doesn't as well. It’s so… salty."

"Oh," Connor says. "They're Frankfurt sausages. These ones are a little non-traditional and commercialized, since they're only a mixture of pork and beef."

"Amazing," Markus says. "My friends and I would've taken so many tesserae for a piece of those."

Connor hesitates. "Have you taken many of those?" Connor asks, angling the spoon so Markus could have a better bite. "Tesserae?"

Markus thinks on his reply which he chews. "You'd struggle to find anyone who hasn't done it at least twice a year," he says with food still in his mouth.

Amanda would be appalled at his manners. For some reason, the observation only makes Markus more endearing to Connor.

“And if you were alone?”

“Then you find people,” Markus says. “You find your family there.”

Markus says it like it’s easy. Like it’s the norm for people to be taking strangers in and treating them like family.

"I would take one for Carl and Leo," Markus says. "Then when Josh, North and Simon came to live with us, we were fortunate enough to be considered a family. So we could take an extra Tessera for each person."

"That's... quite a lot of odds to be putting in."

"But if everyone's increasing the number of times they're entered, then the probability roughly stays the same. I think was at 39 at the last reaping."

A laugh escapes from Connor. "I'm not sure that's how it exactly works," Connor says. “But I guess you’re right, more or less.”

Markus shrugs. "Math was never my best subject."

Connor is about to ask about what other things they teach in District 12 when a booming voice cuts through their conversation.

"Attention Tributes. Attention.”

Markus almost chokes on his soup, and Connor rubs a hand on his back as he bends over coughing.

"Commencing at sunrise. There'll be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia."

Connor snaps into attention.

"However, this will be no ordinary occasion," the announcer says, a little slyly. "Each of you need something... desperately and we plan to be generous hosts."

Markus jolts forward catching his elbow before Connor could move. "You're not going," he says.

"It's your medicine," Connor says. "Of course, I am."

Markus's hold tightens. "Connor, don't. You can't go alone."

"Markus, you can't even stand without flinching."

"Connor, I'm serious," Markus says, and his eyes are pleading. "You can't just--you can't just risk your life for me. I won't let you."

"There's nothing you can't do to stop me."

"I'm not letting you die for me!"

"Markus—"

"No, Connor," Markus says, jerky and desperate as he’s never been before. "Listen to me. You go out there alone, and you'd get slaughtered. They've made it clear that the Cornucopia's a target, and you don't even have a ranged weapon."

"I can throw my knives."

"Faster than an archer with a bow?”

“If they can spot me. That’s why I need to scout the area and set up traps.”

“You won’t be the only one to think of that strategy.”

“I know,” Connor says. “It’s still the best chance for us to keep track of everyone in the area.”

“Connor, please,” Markus says. “Don’t risk yourself like that. It’s not worth it.”

Connor chews on his lip. "Markus. You haven't even finished your food."

"And this!" Markus waves up and down. "You don't owe me anything. I saved your life, but you've already more or less saved mine. Why are you doing all this?"

They're locked in a standoff. Markus's eyes are brighter and more demanding in the darkness of their cave than they did in the daylight.

They're not even from the same district. There was already no way both of them could come out of this alive. Markus is wounded and if Connor was smart—if Connor was still playing the game as he should, as someone worthy of his District—he’d slit Markus's throat now and lay out a trap at the Cornucopia. Everyone there would do the same, if they're smart, but Connor can be smarter. He just needs the jumpstart time to plan ahead.

But he doesn't do any of that. For once, he doesn't want to do what's expected of him.

“We don’t have a lot of time left,” Connor says carefully.

Markus grimaces. “I know.”

“Why is it so bad, then, that I want to spend what little time I have left with you?”

That seems to stop Markus short.

Connor puts the soup aside, safe in its closed container, and leans over slowly. He hovers, just as his lips is about to touch Markus's. He looks up from Markus's lips, categorizing each freckle which dots his cheeks, and the slashes carved on his temple.

"Can I?" Connor asks quietly.

Swallowing, Markus nods, and Connor leans in, pressing their lips together.

Markus tastes like soup, Connor distantly notes, a wave of giddiness and warmth blasting through his bones like the recoil of a force field. He tilts his head, testing for a better angle before softly pulling away.

"Oh," Connor says quietly. He brushes Markus's bottom lip with the tip of his index finger. "I've never done that before."

Markus laughs, and it's a soft puff of air fluttering on his skin. "Finally," he says. "Something I know more about than you do."

Connor sneaks a quick peck on his lips. "If you did," Connor says, brushing his thumb over Markus’s chin. "You didn't show it."

“That’s not fair,” Markus says. “I’m injured.”

Which reminds Connor all the more of current their situation. His dopey smile drips and he can see Markus mirror him.

Markus tugs him by his elbow, closer until he can rest his forehead onto Connor’s. He closes his eyes and his presses in, and if Connor doesn’t want to fall back, he has to press in as well. For some reason, Connor finds the balance soothing.

“All the more reason I can’t let you go,” Markus mumbles. “Please stay here. Stay here with me. We’ll work something out. I promise you we will.”

Connor knows Markus isn’t the type to hand out empty promises as assurance. They’re not empty promises, of course, if he wills them into existence, and Markus is stubborn enough to make it a reality. It’s almost as potent as his kindness and courage. Yet he knows himself so well, knows the line tips into the ruthless and practical side of himself. Everything about Markus draws Connor in like a flame. Everything about Markus hits like a drop of dye unfolding in a bed of water.

But with a cut that deep, it’s only a matter of time before infection starts creeping away at his skin. And then Markus will be a sitting duck, shaky with his fever, while the whole arena sniffs at his trail. It’s not like Connor plans to leave Markus if they ever get to that point, but he’ll have to for brief periods of time. Food and water won’t fetch themselves, after all.

“Okay,” Connor lies, running his hands up Markus’s arms. “Okay, I’ll stay. Can you at least finish your food first?”

“I’ve already had a lot,” Markus says. “Have some with me.”

“It’s your food, Markus,” he says. “From a sponsor. Guess I spoke too quickly on that, huh?”

“No reason it can’t be shared. I’ll have some if you have some.”

Markus moves himself back, and even though they’re more colour on his face, the act of eating has taken a lot out of him. Even still, he looks at Connor expectantly after he takes a spoonful, and he doesn’t stop until Connor sips at the broth himself and almost sighs from how his stomach curls in happiness.

No sickness can keep Markus and his stubborn will of steel down, it seems.

He stays awake long enough to tug Connor onto his chest. As soon as Connor arranges his limbs, so that he wouldn’t budge Markus’s wound, Markus’s breathing evens out into long, deep, soothing beats which lulls Connor on the edge as well.

He’ll doze until just before sunrise, Connor decides. That will give him enough time to slip out, and plan what he’ll be doing at Cornucopia.

—

“Oh, Markus,” Carl says tiredly. “What have you done?”

They had watched in silence and bated breath like the rest of the world. Connor leaned in and Markus leaned in back, and the kiss was terrifying—the kiss was hesitant, and tender, and so unflinchingly real that Carl’s heart already aches for what lies ahead as the number of tributes dwindle down.

“Always said he had more heart than brains,” North says, thinning her lips.

“He’ll have somebody watching his back though,” Simon says. “A Careers, as well. That’s more than what we hoped for.”

“That’s just it, Simon. What’s going to happen when there’s only the two of them left?” Josh asks.

“Then Connor will probably kill himself,” Simon says bluntly. “If his feelings are true, that is. That’s our best bet for getting Markus back. If his feelings are faked then…”

“Markus would never let him do that,” Josh says.

Simon shrugs. “Markus doesn’t need to know.”

“Markus is smarter than you’re giving him credit for, Simon,” North says. “And I don’t think that Connor’s faking it. Else, he would’ve just killed Markus then and there while he’s incapacitated.”

“They’re not faking it,” Carl says, eyes still on the TV. “Trust the eye of an old artist, my child. Even seasoned actors would struggle to replicate what they have.”

Markus is starting to get feverish, shivering and turning in his sleep. Jolted, Connor blinks awake. Then, they watch as, half-asleep, Connor rearranges the jackets Markus kicked away, and falls back into his dozing.

Markus turns into him, seeking the warmth of his body.

“Oh, Markus,” North says, echoing his words from earlier. “What have you done?”

#rk1k #rk1k hunger games au #dbh markus #dbh connor #conneko keyboard smash

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archadianskies · 5 years ago

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the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

@dbhrarepairs Sunday Day 7: Free Day; Fantasy + Supernatural; RK900/Simon

It is an unspoken rule: you are safe in Jericho. There are no ranks, no royalty, and certainly no witch hunters. Simon’s worked hard to keep it this way for five years now and strives to ensure it will stay as such in the years to come. It is, by all accounts, but a humble bakery in a bustling integrated town and it’s not the biggest nor the fanciest, not by far. But for Simon it’s home. Literally. He and his twin brother Daniel live upstairs.

Jericho’s reputation means it has its fair share of interesting patrons, most of whom Simon has eventually befriended. Most notable are those from the castle: Royal Scholar Joshua, Royal Protector North, and the princes themselves; Prince Leopold and Prince Markus. Not that Simon ever set out to sell to castlefolk but apparently no one makes berry loaves quite like he does or so Prince Markus says- something something his magic imbues baked goods with emotional properties.

The Autumn Harvest Festival is soon to be upon them and Simon is kept busy, so busy he’s enlisted the help of fellow baker Kara and her little daughter Alice. She even manages to ensnare her towering husband Luther to help by heaving sacks of flour freshly packed at the mill and bring them to the bakery. King Carl will throw a grand celebration that will last all week, and the town will near triple in size as visitors flock in from out of town. It’s exhausting work but incredible money and Simon knows he can’t pass it up. He’ll spend the next week deep in preparation.

It’s one sunny afternoon, tempered by a breeze carrying the chilling promise of winter, that a new customer wanders into Jericho. It’s too early to be tourists and it’s too late to be a regular patron.

“Hello, welcome to Jericho.” Simon greets the older, greying man. He has tired warm eyes, his face weathered by time but also slashed with curious scars. “What can I get for you sir?”

“I uh, I’m new here. Me an’ my boys just moved in, just outside of town by the forest.”

“Oh! You bought the hunter’s cottage.” Simon smiles warmly. “I’m glad. It’d been empty for so long now and it’s at such a lovely location.”

“Heard a lot about this place.” He mumbles gruffly, scratching his nape. “My sons, they’re…different. ‘Specially the younger one. I just wanted to suss this place out before bringin’ ‘em in.”

“They’re safe here at Jericho. No judgement, no hunters.” Simon vows solemnly. “They can eat here and my brother is a potions master so they’ll have plenty to drink of whatever their heart needs.”

“Hank Anderson.” The man introduces himself, and when Simon shakes his calloused hand he sees ropey scars all over it too.

“Simon Lambert.”

“I know I’m a bit late for the morning loaves but you got anything heartier? Meatier?” Hank looks around, curiously inspecting this and that.

“I still have a beef steak and peppercorn pie, how does that sound?” Simon offers, and Hank breaks into a grin.

“Sounds perfect.”

*~*~*

North perches up on the counter, plucking a blueberry tart and dropping a couple of coins into the till. “Saw that the hunter’s lodge was bought last week.” Her speech is muffled by her chewing. “A family?”

“Yes, a father and his sons.” Simon sighs and sweeps a few crumbs off the counter, trying to shoo her off to no avail. “I met him the other day, he seems nice. Curiously covered in scars though.”

“A soldier? A knight?” North guesses, expression piqued with interest. “Another hunter?”

“I don’t ask questions here.” Simon reminds her lightly, pouring her a glass of chipper tonic to boost her afternoon mood. “I hope to meet his sons soon. Maybe Alice will have a playmate, the dear girl’s been so lonely.”

“Hey, you got any of the cinnamon scrolls left?” She nearly tips over the counter in her attempt to peek behind, and Simon lunges to steady her.

“North!”

“Well do ya?” She grins at him, puffing a lock of hair from her face. Her magic emanates from her, an aura like wildfire, and sets her brown eyes ablaze. He rolls his eyes.

“I do. Two to go like usual?”

“Yeah if I don’t feed Josh he’ll just work til he passes out. Or try and eat his books, I dunno.” She drops more coins into the till as Simon carefully places the sticky scrolls in wax paper. “Tell me about the new family when you meet them, okay? I’m pretty curious. And y’know, doin’ my job. If he’s some shady guy then the Fam needs to know.”

“Will do.” He promises, handing her the scrolls and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Take care and say hello to Josh for me.”

*~*~*

When Hank visits the next day, there’s a huge dog at his side. It’s easily the size of Alice, and should it stand on its hind legs Simon knows it would probably see eye to eye with Luther himself. The bakery isn’t too full, but it isn’t empty either and the customers eye the canine warily. “This is err, this is Connor.” Hank gestures at the canine who immediately sits and offers what Simon thinks is a rather cute doggy smile.

“Can I pat him? PLEASE?” Alice pipes up, peeking from behind Simon. “He looks SO fluffy!”

“He is fluffy, little Miss.” Hank chuckles. “Go right ahead.”

Alice darts out from behind him and rushes to the dog, immediately sinking her hands into his fur. “Hiiiiii Connor! I’m Alice!” Connor responds by flopping down and rolling over, showing his belly as his tail swishes side to side happily.

“You know,” Simon comes around to stand beside Hank, arms crossed, “I thought you said you were going to bring your sons here. There was no mention of a very large but very cute dog. What breed is he? Goodness he seems like a hunting mastiff and wolf hybrid.”

“...We’ll go with that, yeah. I never really did know.” Hank shrugs, grin a little self-conscious. “I didn’t raise ‘em, I sorta...just...took them in. They needed a home and someone to care for them.”

“Them?” Simon echoes, brows raised. “There’s another?”

“Uh yeah, there’s two of ‘em. This one is Connor, the other is Ronan. He’s not too good with people yet he’s sorta jus’ hiding until he gets used to this new place.”

“Two sons and two dogs, goodness me.” Simon laughs. “Well, feel free to take a seat and choose something to eat. I’ll pour you some of Danny’s restful tea.”

He loses himself to the humdrum of work, occasionally glancing over to where Hank is sitting on a bench by the window, his dog becoming a bed for Alice as she naps then and there atop his fluffy fur. It’s a steady trickle of customers, and plenty of soft amused smiles are coaxed from them when they see the little girl and the very large dog. The afternoon passes by, mellow and golden like time trapped in honey, and all too soon he’s counting the coins in the till and Kara is sweeping the floor.

“Ah shit, I’m so sorry I guess I dozed off.” Hank chuckles, smile sheepish as he scratches his nape and stifles a yawn. “Guess that tea worked, huh?”

“I’m glad it did.” Simon smiles, bending to run his hand through Connor’s fur now he’s no longer handling foods. “You’ve been so well behaved, Connor, what a good boy.” He tweaks the tip of his ear playfully and the dog chuffs in response, squirming and wriggling until its sitting upright at attention.

“Connor! I got you a snack!” Alice’s voice calls out sweetly, and she hurries from the kitchens holding a tray of meat scraps left from the beef pies. All too late does Simon see the knife teetering on the tray, and how Alice’s foot catches on the broom as Kara sweeps.

“Alice-!”

There’s a blur, something dark and fast, inhumanely fast knocking Simon over and lunging for Alice and when Simon’s senses catch up to him, there’s a very naked young man holding her with one arm, and holding the knife in his other hand.

“Connor!” Hank nearly upends the table in his rush to cross the distance, and the very naked young man seems to belatedly notice he’s caught the knife blade-side in his hand. There’s blood running in rivulets from his grasp, there’s meat scraps all over the floor, and there’s a distressed girl in his hold who suddenly bursts into tears.

“Alice! Oh Alice!” Kara retrieves her daughter, and Simon still isn’t sure what is happening is actually happening.

“...Your dog is your son.” Simon manages at last. Hank’s shrugging out of his coat and wrapping it around the very naked young man.

“...Err, yeah.”

“...I’ll get some bandages and salve.” He declares, and just leaves for upstairs.

With Kara and Alice sent home, Simon closes the bakery more for his own sanity than to keep it from prying eyes. He just needs time to process this, that’s all. He’s a witch, Jericho has always been a safe haven for witches whose magic had been exploited by the humans for a decade before King Carl’s adopted witch son fought hard for the right to be equal. Jericho has seen all sorts of magic users, even those with daemons, but this? This is magic he’s never encountered before.

When the initial shock has faded, and Connor’s in a set of Danny’s clothes with his palm tended to and healed, Simon decides the right thing to do is pack some leftover meat pie and walk the Andersons back to their cottage and hear them out. There is no judgement in Jericho, afterall, and Simon likes to learn about his patrons.

“I uhh,” Hank sighs, scratching his beard and looking over at Connor. “I used to live in the neighbouring kingdom. My son Cole and I got into a nasty carriage accident in winter. He’d just turned six, love and light of my life. I rushed him to the closest healer but he’d been out with his friends, using red ice crystals.”

Simon winced. Red ice was a byproduct of common potion-making; red quartz that had its power depleted, but when heated by regular human flame and inhaled, could give the human user intense and vivid highs using the distorted remnants of magic. As much as the King tried to control it, especially since his own flesh and blood son was addicted to it, it’s still rampant in the kingdom. Simon remembers that well, and he also remembers befriending Prince Leo and listening to his sorrows and letting him weep and rage and just be. He recalls the withdrawals but he also recalls the bud of hope blossoming into friendship, friendship between a witch and a human. Red ice destroyed lives, but only if people failed to nurture those under its power.

“There was a witch who came to my aid and though they tried their best, worked for hours trying to heal Cole, he passed away.” There’s great sorrow there, a gaping chasm of grief Simon cannot ever comprehend. He reaches out and gently squeezes Hank’s shoulder.

“And then Hank found my brother and I.” Connor pipes up with a small smile. “We were being trained to become attack dogs by witch hunters.” The smile vanishes. “It was...a very cold, cruel upbringing. I was given to Hank as a trial to see if I could be weaponised by humans.”

“Didn’t sit right with me, seeing someone reduced to a dog meant to just obey without question.” Hank says gruffly, shaking his head. “I could see he was something more. When Ronan came along I just knew I had to give them a better chance.”

“It took us a while to find ourselves.” Connor confesses, his smile returning though it’s tinged with sadness. “We were mindless attack dogs for a while still, until we could break out of our conditioning.”

“And you’re more human than some sorry sods I’ve dealt with.” Hank grumbles, eliciting a laugh from Connor.

“Oh! I-” He smiles brightly, not bothering to finish his sentence before he breaks into a run and starts to strip off his borrowed clothes, near tripping flat on his face when he shucks off the boots. Connor leaps forward fluidly and then there’s the large brown shaggy wolf bounding ahead, playfully tackling an even larger, even darker wolf. The two roughhouse enthusiastically, oblivious to the way Hank rolls his eyes as he and Simon make their way down the path to the cottage, the abandoned clothes draped over Hank’s arm. When they’re close enough, the darker wolf sits bolts upright, Connor still pinned under him. He sniffs the air and then focuses his startling grey eyes on Simon.

“Ronan, this is Simon.” Hank says slowly, grasping Simon’s elbow to stop him. A sliver of fear pinches Simon’s spine as he realises his muzzle is stained with blood. Connor wriggles beneath him, managing to butt his brother on the underside of his jaw with his head. It breaks Ronan’s stare, and he nips at Connor to chide him. Hank’s grip on Simon’s elbow is strong, and he guides him forward very slowly. Ronan snaps to attention again, eyes locked on him. Simon takes a deep breath, uncovering the pie and holding it out.

“I’m the baker at Jericho.” A pause, voice soft. “And I’m a witch. I thought I’d come introduce myself, since I met your father and your brother earlier today.”

“You’ve been hunting, haven’t you boy?” Hank’s voice turns warm and fond, and he steps ahead of Simon to reach out and gently muss the fur between Ronan’s ears. The wolf noses his cheek affectionately, chuffing in reply. “Yeah you stink of raw meat. Did you leave some for your brother? Of course you did, I know you did.” He laughs as Ronan presses his nose to his neck before resting his large head on Hank’s shoulder. “Alright alright, round the back and wash up. Simon’s come all the way from town with a very nice pie for us.”

Where Connor is all warm browns and soft friendly smiles, Ronan is cold greys and reserved observations. He is, as Hank noted, wary and sussing things out. They share the pie, and they converse, with Ronan making the occasional comment. Simon keeps the conversation honest and light, giving as much as Hank had given. He talks about a loving family before their magic manifested and being turned out on the streets and becoming a kitchenhand. Of learning how his emotions could be infused into foods made with his own hands, of how Danny could do the same with liquids. Nights spent feeding each other hopes and dreams and comfort. Ronan watches him with interest, brows creased. To steer the conversation away from darker thoughts he tells them about all the early mistakes, how Danny had forgotten to feed the yeast so the dough didn’t rise enough and when Simon baked it it tasted of bitter annoyance. They all share a laugh, and Simon notes with amusement the Anderson brothers tip their head back to laugh just like their father only their teeth are far more sharp.

“Ah it’s late, I must head home. There’s dough to prepare before bed.” Simon stands to excuse himself, and Ronan stands immediately after.

“I’ll walk you home.” He falters a little when they all blink at him in surprise. “It’s dark, and the roads are dangerous at night.”

“Well.” Simon smiles. “I guess I’ll be the safest traveler in the kingdom tonight.”

It’s true. There certainly can’t be any traveler safer than he, not with a giant wolf padding by his side. Ronan is hyper alert, sniffing the air and looking this way and that, striding just a little ahead of Simon to scout the area. Where Connor can vaguely pass off as a large crossbreed, there’s no mistaking Ronan and his hulking form. They aren’t affected by the moon as told by those old tales, no their form is more akin to putting on another set of clothes, Connor had told him. It’s simply another way to be.

When they reach the town gates, Simon turns to his personal guard with a smile.

“Thank you for being such a gentleman, Ronan, I do appreciate it.” He reaches out without thinking, surprising the both of them when he gently pats his head. “I hope you visit Jericho soon.”

He visits him the very next day, in fact. Even as a human, he’s taller than most and cuts an imposing, intimidating figure. Ronan enters the bakery hesitantly, still unsure, still trying to find his feet amongst humans. A pair of young women dart him glances and smiles, giggling to themselves and whispering furiously as their cheeks pink with blush. Simon agrees that yes, Ronan is rather handsome, though he’ll never say it aloud.

“Hello Ronan.” He greets with a bright smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“I...wanted to see you. And Jericho.” He adds almost as an afterthought, and Simon ducks his head with a laugh.

“And here you are.” He gestures at one of the empty tables. “Take a seat, I'll bring you something to eat and drink.”

There’s a lull in customers so Simon takes a seat opposite Ronan, cup of tea in hand.

“You mention your brother working here but I haven’t seen him.” Ronan comments, looking around.

“Danny works for one of the court officials most of the week, so he just prepares the brews on the weekends.” Simon explains, taking a sip of his favourite warm and calming tea. “Most people come here to buy breads and don’t tend to stay and eat so it’s not like we really ever run out.”

“So it’s mostly you?”

“Yes. I love it here.” Simon smiles. “It’s my own little place. It brings me joy when people enjoy my food and that in turn helps me make more food for them to enjoy.”

*~*~*

It becomes a routine, having at least one Anderson, if not all three, visit him at least every second day. Simon ends up setting a large meat pie aside every time, so he can drop by after closing and off them the ‘leftover’, and once the pie is eaten Ronan will walk him home. He takes great comfort in his company, the large hulking wolf a warm presence at his side and Simon does indeed feel much safer even if Danny complains of him reeking of dog. With the festival drawing ever closer, Hank and Connor are employed by the guards as part of extra security measures meaning Ronan is often the only one at home after Simon finishes closing the bakery. Not that he minds, since little by little Ronan’s opening up to him and the conversation flows easier, is less stilted and hesitant. He finds himself looking forward to their time together, and revels in each little personal victory whenever he manages to coax a smile or an ever elusive laugh from the other man.

He sends Kara and Alice home just as the sun dips below the horizon. The festival is in two days time and at the end of each day the bakery is completely empty of goods as people stock up. It’s a good feeling, a feeling of pride and accomplishment that also translates into flavourful, rich foods with every new batch Simon makes. The regulars know that the sweetest, happiest pastries must be bought just before the festival when Simon’s riding the giddy feeling of anticipation and excitement. He can’t fault them; it’s true, after all. He makes sure to set aside a whole basket of goods for the royal family, and this time he also sets side a richly stewed mushroom and beef pie with spices baked into the crust for the Andersons. The bell above the door tinkles, and heavy footsteps plod into the bakery.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed!” Simon calls out, wandering back from the storage room. There’s a gang of broad muscular men led by a severe looking man in black robes.

“Oh we know.” He smirks, and his eyes are cold as ice. “So this is Jericho, hm? A filthy little rats nest for all the rats to scurry to.”

“Everyone is welcome here in Jericho,” Simon says firmly. “Even witch hunters. So long as you leave your prejudices at the door.”

They laugh at that, and the leader steps closer and closer to Simon. “You think you’re safe here? That just because you’ve made fancy rules we’re supposed to obey them? Your kind are meant to serve us.”

“And this bakery does indeed serve bread to humans.” Simon points out lightly with a faint smile. “As it does to witches.”

“Not anymore.” The man snarls and backhands Simon before grabbing him by the throat. “Just because the King adopted a filthy witch doesn’t make it all better. Your kind will never be equal to us.”

He claws at the man’s hand, trying to gasp for air. His henchmen laugh and begin to smash the chairs against the tables, against the shelves, against the windows. Simon manages to kick his assailant square in the chest, causing him to stumble back and let him go. It only enrages him further and Simon’s vision bursts into stars as the man punches him to the ground. A boot plants itself on his head, pressing him down onto the floor and Simon watches helplessly as the men ransack his beloved bakery and ruin the next day’s preparations. He thanks the Fates he locked the storage before stepping out, and that he’d sent Kara and Alice home already.

“Captain Perkins! We have to go!” One of the men shout, and there’s a commotion as they all rush to leave. Captain Perkins stares down at Simon like he’s stepped in filth, sneering at him before pulling his foot back and kicking him in the stomach.

“This isn’t over yet, vermin.”

It’s fine. It’s alright. No one else got hurt. The gift basket for the royal family is safe and sound, and for all the destruction the men didn’t even think to steal the money from the till. Though Simon supposes this wasn’t for monetary gain at all. He sits up gingerly and then properly vomits red, his head spinning and his stomach sore. His vision still pulses with lights, his jaw aches and his limbs don’t want to listen to him. It takes him four tries to get to his feet, and he only succeeds because he scoots ever so slowly over to the counter. His palms are shredded from the broken glass but he’s upright now, and somehow, somehow all he can think of is that he’s late and Ronan will be waiting. So he gathers his travelling cloak, places the pie very carefully into a basket, and leaves through the back door.

It’s fine, everything is fine and Simon’s not sure if it’s magic or just his own stubbornness that takes what just happened and locks it in a box, throws away the key, and buries it in a grave. He has a cemetery for events like these, like his parents throwing him out with Danny when their powers manifested, like being chased from their town, like the time Danny got sick with fever and almost died and said the most horrible things to try and get him to leave so he wouldn’t fall ill too. It’s fine. It’s gone.

A big dark wolf bounds out from the forest behind the hunter’s cottage, its gait springy and joyful before it turns into an urgent run as Simon limps down the path. He clumsily tugs at his travelling cloak as Ronan shivers back upright, his face a mask of horror as Simon hands him his cloak so he isn’t standing there naked.

“Simon-!”

“Ronan it’s cold, wear this.”

“You’re bleeding, you’re-!” He pulls him into his arms suddenly, sniffing and nosing him and Simon tries to batt him away in surprise.

“You smell like a hunter. A witch hunter-” Ronan decides whole sentences are too much for the moment and simply scoops Simon up into his arms and rushes him inside, ignoring his protests. He sets him down on a chair in the kitchen. “Wait, I’ll get Hank’s healing kit.”

Simon feels a little embarrassed. He’s fine after all. Oh and the pie is fine, he discovers triumphantly as he places the basket on the table and unearths the lovely creation still wrapped in a tea towel. Just needs a bit of time in the oven, and it’ll be ready for dinner.

“Simon what happened?” Ronan demands, reappearing with a small chest in his hands and proper clothes on his body. “You reek of witch hunters and blood and- and- something else. Something familiar but I can’t place it.”

The chest is placed on the table, Ronan glancing at the pie briefly before he opens the kit and fishes out a small bottle and some gauze. Gently, ever so gently, he daubs tonic on Simon’s injuries.

“Simon? Please talk to me.” There’s a plea in his tone, panic in those stormy grey eyes that Simon’s always fancied were beautiful.

“Oh um,” his tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth like he’s stuffed it full of flour. “Um. A band of witch hunters ransacked Jericho and destroyed all my furniture and they ruined my festival preparations but it’s ok I saved your dinner.”

There’s a moment, a pause, a long drawn out pause as Ronan looks at him in utter horror.

“What?”

“Oh and the gift basket I prepared for the Manfreds, that’s alright too. And the till. They didn’t take any money and no one was hurt so it’s okay. It’s fine.”

“You were hurt, Simon!” Ronan near shouts at him, panic leaking into his voice. “They hurt you!”

“I’m okay. I sent Kara and Alice home before they arrived. A shame about the bakery though, they really did just...break...everything…” It takes him far too long to realise he’s crying, that tears are running down his cheeks and he’s gasping for breath and his stomach still feels tight and raw. “They destroyed everything and I won’t have anything ready for the festival and we really needed the money, I was going to buy Danny a new cloak and a pretty bonnet for Alice’s birthday and-” He’s sobbing now, and the physical pain somehow feels right, too, a rightful mixture of heartache and a stomach ache and a jaw ache and a headache. Ronan’s still looking at him in horror, and then he’s leaning forward and wrapping Simon up in his arms and Simon nearly howls with sorrow as he cries and cries and cries.

He’s not sure how much time passes but the door is kicked open and Connor leaps through in his wolf form before scrambling back into a more humanoid form. His teeth are still wrong, his ears still a little pointed and tufty. “I smelled blood! I smelled witch hunters! Simon what happened?!”

“That’s exactly what happened.” Ronan snaps, though the anger isn’t directed at Connor at all. Simon manages some sort of noise, a confirmation of sorts as he clings to Ronan, cheek mushed on his shoulder. He’s tired but he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Hank huffs and puffs into the cottage a short while after, throwing Connor’s clothes to the side the moment he sees Simon’s sorry self.

“Shit, Simon! What the fuck happened?!”

“Captain Perkins.” Simon recalls belatedly. “The witch hunters- one of them called the leader Captain Perkins.”

Connor and Ronan freeze, eyes wide.

“Perkins oh that sick motherfucker.” Hank curses, rage in his eyes. “He did this to you?”

“He destroyed Jericho too.” Ronan adds curtly, lips pulled back in a snarl. “And he made sure to do it a day before the Festival.”

“Um, I did manage to save dinner though?” Simon gestures at the pie.

“...Simon, that’s-”

“Very kind of you.” Connor says gently. “I’ll get the oven going. Dad, can you make tea?”

“Err, right. Yeah. I can make tea.”

“It’s best if you get out of these clothes and into some clean ones.” Ronan helps him up and Simon’s legs are as wobbly as a newborn foal. Spots wink in and out of his vision and he winces, clinging to Ronan tightly. “It’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ve got you Simon.”

They have pie while he wears Ronan’s clothes and they sip tea Hank made and all the while Connor and Ronan exchange venomous glances, seemingly having an entire conversation without words. Or maybe they did use words. Simon really can’t concentrate. He’s given something purple to drink and very gently guided to a large bed and heavy quilts are tucked over him and he thinks someone brushes his hair back from his face and kisses his temple but he’s not sure if that really happened or just something he wishes happened to him. Simon sleeps and he doesn’t dream of anything.

When he wakes it’s late, far too late for baking loaves and pastries, and it should horrify him but if there’s no functioning bakery then it’s really not a problem is it? There’s a bowl of fruits and a glass of juice on the bedside table along with a note telling him to stay here and rest. Alright. He can do that. What else is there to do, anyway? He nibbles on blueberries and some apple slices, drinks the glass of sweet peach juice and then slumps back under the quilts. He sleeps and dreams of picnicking under starlight with a large dark wolf curled at his side.

When he wakes again it’s late, so late the sun is long gone below the horizon and the nightly chill has filled the house. A wolf’s howl breaks through the quiet, joined by another a moment later. Simon smiles sleepily, testing his feet on the floorboards and finding being upright agrees with him again. Snagging his cloak from the stand, he wraps it around himself before stepping outside. He can see Connor and Ronan in the distance, heads tipped back as they howl in harmony. They turn to look at him, their movement as one, before Connor breaks away and runs back into the forest. Ronan remains still, unmoving, like a statue carved of granite. Simon sighs. He has to do all the work around here apparently. Closing the distance between them, Simon realises he may not have the nose of a wolf but Ronan reeks of blood. When he’s close enough, he can see the wolf stained in red, not just on the muzzle but all over his entire body as if he’s soaked himself in it. Which he has, probably, and a hysterical little giggle escapes Simon when he realises this is the fate of Captain Perkins.

“I see you and your brother went hunting tonight.” Simon reaches out slowly and runs his hand along the side of his muzzle, the fur wet and sticky with fresh blood. “Tasty?” The wolf pulls back its lips in a snarl of disgust, huffing his disagreement and Simon laughs. “No, witch-hunters probably taste foul. All that hate in their veins rotting them away. Best you didn’t feast on them.” He’s trembling- from fear or exhilaration he’s not sure. Maybe both? Quite possibly both. It’s the thrill of exhilaration that leads him to wrap his arms around the wolf’s neck and he doesn’t even mind the blood. “Thank you. Now he’ll never hurt anyone ever again.”

There’s a rush of magic, a thrum so strong he feels it in his bones and all at once he’s embracing Ronan in his human form. He wraps him up in his cloak. “You really ought to have waited until we were inside you silly dog.” He scolds lightly, lips curved up in a teasing smile.

“My brother and I run hot, it takes a lot for us to feel cold.” Ronan mumbles, his mouth still stained red. “It’s you who should still be inside.”

“I’ll go back in a second.” He takes a moment to fuss over him, to slick back his dark hair damp with sweat and blood so it doesn’t stick to his face. “Really though, thank you.”

“Hank has made sure to notify the King himself, and Jericho will be rebuilt. His Majesty granted you access to the royal kitchens so you can still bake while your bakery is reconstructed.” Ronan speaks so earnestly Simon feels overwhelmed tears prick his eyes.

“Does the King know what happened to Captain Perkins?”

“...He fell to beasts in the forest. He shouldn’t have tried to travel after nightfall.” Ronan says lightly, a grin twitching at his lips.

“It’s because he didn’t have a guardian at his side.” Simon quips. “Otherwise he’d have been the safest traveller in all the kingdoms.”

Ronan looks at him with such fondness, leaning in to bump their noses together in a gesture that strikes Simon as rather puppylike.

“I’ll protect you, Simon. If you’ll let me.”

Simon doesn’t answer right away, taking a moment just to admire Ronan Anderson under the bright moonlight naked as the day he was born save for Simon’s travelling cloak. He knows he should feel horrified. The brothers are, in some way, monsters to be feared. There’s something humorous about all this, though, about everything that’s happened, that’s led to where they are right this very moment. It’s a funny little turn of events, and he chooses to see it that way, chooses to bury another box and in that box is the fear that should have been felt.

He realises he loves him in a monstrous way, that all this feels right and sanctified and just. He presses his mouth to his, and their first kiss tastes of death and victory at all once.

“I’d like that very much.”

#dbh simon #rk900 #hank anderson #dbh connor #detroit: become human #dbh kara #dbh alice #tw blood #tw gore #dbhrarepairs #annie writes: dbh #sorry for the lateness fam i was at my parents' place this weekend #today's song is Shrike by Hozier

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