#i am unfamiliar with most anime so thats off the table
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Finally decided to meet some people at the convention nearby next month but now i must come up with a cosplay or something in uhhhh a few weeks
#whoops#could recycle teen titans raven but my hair cannot purple by then even if i have the right cut#i am unfamiliar with most anime so thats off the table#all righty people whats a low effort cosplay for a brunette white bitch with some gothy undertones#throw em at me#probably dont have enough free time for armor but hair and makeup and a bit of sewing is doable
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Just Like a Human
Detroit Become Human fanfic
Authors note: hey guys! It’s been a fat minute, but I’m back with a fanfic here for Detroit Become Human. This is a tickle fanfic, don’t like it don’t read.
Summary: Connor becomes fitted with touch sensors in attempt to better his investigation and human connection skills, though when a drunk Hank discovers his new sensitivity, things get a little out of hand.
I do not own Detroit Become Human
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Connor woke quickly and easily, as always. Blinking several times, he sat up, the tuft of hair swinging back down onto his forehead. All systems normal. Except.....
What?
Before now the table under him was nothing more than a mild pressure, signaling he was supported by a solid object. But now...
Cold. It was cold.
He hissed lightly and quickly stood, rubbing the backs of his legs to relieve the sensation. He jumped at the feeling of his own hands. How do humans put up with this?
Recently Connor had a revelation. Interacting with humans was hardwired into his system with little to no explanation why, though it seemed like the sense of physical touch was very important in most interactions. It made sense, humans are pack animals. They need contact to function, as well as sensation to tell them about the environment around them. So, hoping to understand and connect better with humans, he asked CyberLife to install more in detail sensors. They gave him a strange look when he claimed to “want to feel what humans feel” but didn’t argue and immediately set off to design new sensors and program in responses akin to that of a human response, the only difference being coded rather than chemical.
He stood marveling at the new sensations for a moment. The light touch of his clothing against his skin, light wind generated from the facility’s air conditioning, even his own eyelashes, hair, and the artificial tongue in his mouth, all was so unfamiliar. Things that weren’t anything more than a pressure were now individual, and all of these had names. It will take awhile to get used to this.
He exited the facility for the presinct, smiling in whimsy at every new sensation. The crisp late autumn air sent a shiver down his metal spine, the wind whispered through his hair, and the snow crackled beneath his shoes. He picked up a mound of the snow with his bare hands, staring at them as they began to ache from the cold. “Wow,”
It took him longer to reach the presinct doors than he’d like to admit, everything was so facinating now. And the small cat in the alley was so soft, he now understood why humans enjoyed their company. He walked into the building, still distracted by wonder and grinning like a child. The air in here was so warm! He has to inform Lieutenant Anderson about this upgrade! Walking to the desk, he took the long way around, dragging his knuckles along the wall and feeling them bounce over every crack.
Hank Anderson heard the footsteps approaching from behind. He spun in his chair, cocking an eyebrow at his detective partner.
“You look happy.” He deadpanned, tilting his head slightly when Connor nodded excitedly. “I got a new upgrade from CyberLife to better understand humans. I can feel everything now, just like you, lieutenant.” Hank stared in confusion, standing. “Wait, what? How? I thought androids couldn’t feel anything.” “Normally yes, but CyberLife saw no harm in fitting me with new sensors, as I am a prototype. I now am capable of feeling all physical input.” Hank circled him, looking for differences. The only one he found was Connor’s hand fiddling with the fabric of his coat rather than the coin he usually spun on his fingertips. He nodded thoughtfully. “Do we have a case?” Connor shook his head, Brown eyes loosing some excitement. “For once no, not today.” “Then if you’ll excuse me,” Hank trailed off, starting to make his way towards the doors. Connor fell into step with him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was warm too. “Where are you going lieutenant?” He shook off the hand, continuing to walk as Connor failed to follow. “To get drunk off my ass, what else?” “Lieutenant, this method of stress relief is not good for you-“ He stopped himself as Lieutenant Anderson held up a hand as he walked, mimicking the movement of a talking sock puppet.
Six hours twelve minutes and fifty-two seconds.
Thats how long it took before Connor decided that Hank may want some company.
He had wandered into several bars around Detroit, none of them contained an intoxicated Hank Anderson. He did, however, learn just how uncomfortable bar stools are, and why the phrase “don’t let the door hit you on the way out” came to be (Connor made sure to add the preferred exiting speed for androids wandering into human-only bars to his memory.). Naturally, Connor became worried. The only place left to check would be his home, though after last time Hank may not want to see him there ever again. But, he was worried and determined, a potent combination that lead him to the conclusion of it would be better to know. The sun had set at least an hour ago, leaving the streets dark aside from the pale glow of street lamps against the snow. The last few taxis of the night splashed past in the slush as he walked, newly forming ice cracking beneath his steps. Snowflakes fell lightly from the sky, Connor shaking them free from his hair and face once they seemed too many. In hindsight the bus would have been faster, maybe even more comfortable. The cold became tiresome after youve become used to it. Though, if he did take the bus, he wouldn’t have seen Hank sitting on a park bench under the shelter of a tree, taking long sips of some amber booze straight from the bottle.
He approached in a calculated manner, not knowing for sure what state his human friend was in. Hank looked over once he was close, giving him an expression of dazed confusion before realization.
“I don’t suppose that upgrade turned you into a search hound too?” Connor rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to him and regretting it immediately when he was met with the unpleasant sensation of melted snow. "Just worried, Lieutenant.” He winced. Hank huffed at that. He tapped the bottle against the arm rest of the bench, staring off into space. He thumped his head against the back, favoring the sky over the lit up bridge before them. “So,” Hank started, “why the upgrade?” Connor perked up. “Well, you see, I was hoping it could help me better understand humans.” He got a side glance. “What does that have to do with the mission? I though everything you did was about the mission.” He shrugged. “I suppose it was a hope to better connect with deviants as well. And to understand you better too.” “There isn’t much to understand.”
They sat in silence for awhile. Connor remained relatively still while Hank fidgeted, Connor nearly reached for the coin he fidgeted with when Hank spoke again. “So you can feel everything now?” He nodded. “Yes, anything a human can feel, so can I.” “Then aren’t you cold?” He nodded again. Hank looked towards him. “Can you get hurt?” “Yes.” “That might be a problem.” Connor laughed, though he understood why it would be a concern. “I will be able to sympathize with those who have been hurt if I have as well.” Hank hummed and took another sip, going to offer some to Connor before stopping himself and bringing it back to his lap. “If you can feel what a human does, that doesn’t mean you’re going to go off to those girls in the Eden Club are you?" "No. That is not an interest of mine.” Hank nodded again. “Do you ask this because you were interested in them?” The human nearly choked on his drink, turning to face Connor fully. “What? Fuck no!” “Are you sure?” “Yes!” Connor chuckled. “You seemed fairly interested when I pitched you the case we were assigned there.” Hank gave him a look, “Smartass.” He chided, jabbing an elbow into where Connors ribs would be. Connor jerked to the side, squeaking, surprised by his own actions. Hank wasn’t too far behind.
“Uh, Connor,” he started slowly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Did they calibrate those sensors right?” The android furrowed his eyebrows, looking at where the contact was made. “I believe they did, and I wouldn’t say it hurt per-say but I can’t seem to find a word in my new sensory index for the particular sensation.” Connor sat back again, falling back into a relaxed position while Hank leaned forwards towards the android. He reached out slowly, watching the other and gently poked into the same spot. Reeling again, Connor jumped and covered the area, staring at Hanks hand with newfound nervousness. Hank began to smirk. “So you have no idea what this is?” “I’m afraid not, Lieutenant. Or at least if I do I don’t remember.” Hank thought for a moment before standing.
“Alright, stand up, I want to try something.” Connor hesitated but complied, standing slowly. “Arms up.” “Lieutenant, I’m not sure what his has to do with-“ “Arms up.” He raised them above his head, clasping a wrist in one hand and resting both on top of his brown hair. Hank circled him, settling for standing behind him. He waited for a second before darting his hands to the detectives waist, digging in with skittering fingers. Connors response was immediate, slamming his arms down into his sides and curling in on himself, cracking a grin with a yelp followed by strained giggles. He stopped moments after, waiting for the other to compose himself. “What.....wha- why..?” Hank chuckled. “They made you ticklish.” Connor made a face, arms still wrapped around his middle. “They made me what?” “Ticklish.” He reached out to give him a few more playful pokes, Connor desperately tried to escape each one. “Yknow, the thing that humans do to other humans to make them laugh. Against their will, but they laugh.” Connor managed to grab Hanks wrists, holding them away from him. “I do not understand,” he started. “Why did I laugh? Why do I feel compelled to escape when I know you are not hurting me?” Hank shook his hands free again, putting them in his pockets. “I don’t know, I’m not a biologist. But they were accurate in completing your request.” Connor nodded, cautiously resting his arms at his sides. The android seemed to become distracted, thinking, tuning out the world around him to contemplate the new sensation. Big mistake.
Hank lunged, knocking Connor to the ground and straddling his hips. Connor nearly attacked in response, though couldn’t as he felt fingers back at his ribs, drumming lightly while the thumbs drilled into where the lower set should lie. He shrieked before dissolving into laughter, arms clawing uselessly at the snowy ground trying to find a hold. He noted the alcohol on the humans breath, probably contributing to Hanks sudden friendliness. Hank was determined, switching spots frequently. He squeezed at his sides and hips, scribbled nails across his stomach, and scratched lightly around his neck and ears, smiling at every new sound. Connor struggled, squirming, having given up on getting away in favor of trying to cover sensitive areas. He shook his head wildly, shaking neatly combed hair loose, artificial tears forming in his eyes. “N-no! Please stop!” He cackled, beginning to kick his legs trying to find purchase against the Icy floor. Hank scooted back lower onto his legs, keeping him from kicking as much with his weight. He reached behind himself, scratching at Connors knees. He screamed loudly, arching his back before falling back into desperate giggles. The Lieutenant quickly flipped himself around to face his friends legs, hovering over them rather than sitting down to better reach. He grabbed one of the kicking limbs and raised it up, scribbling fingers behind the bend of the knee. He was surprised when Connor lurched upwards, wrapping his arms around Hanks waist and hugging tightly, laughing into the back of his melted snow soaked coat. He re-adjusted so the death grip around his waist wouldn’t hinder him, pulling one of connors knees up to his chest and trying to claw off the shoe flailing at the end. Connor kicked wildly, begging into the mans shoulder blades. “Please, no! Not my feet! Pleahehese!” But to no avail. The shoe fell with a crack against the ground, nails finding the soles immediately after. The AI jolted, letting go and falling backwards again, laughter going silent and wheezy though he had no lungs, clutching his face in his hands which seemed to be blushing blue. Seeing his friend had had enough he let go, shuffling to the side to kneel beside the stunned android. He laughed lightly as Connor hid his face in his hands, obviously still grinning underneath.
“How’d you like that, eh?” He asked, ruffling the now messy hair that was beginning to become soaked from the snow. Connor sat up, running a hand through his locks, a feeble attempt to straighten them out. “That was.... interesting.” Hank huffed, rolling his eyes. The investigator gave the human a light punch in the arm, rubbing the feeling out of his sides. “I still feel a mixture of panick and euphoria. Is this normal?” “Yeah, I think so.” Connor nodded, making a mental note. Hank grinned, almost striking again before Connor turned to him, blinking curiously.
“You said this was a phenomenon in humans?”
"Yeah, why?"
"Are you ticklish, Hank?”
Hank couldn’t remember another time he had ran so fast.
#tickle#tickling#tickle fic#fluff#detroit become human#connor#hank anderson#dbh connor#dbh hank#cute
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