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cgogs · 3 months ago

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all i wanted | c!dnf oneshot | 4k c!George breaks c!Dream out of prison and tries to fashion a normal life.

secret santa for @rglozwriter (happy holidays! i hope you enjoy!!)

George has never once in his whole life thought of himself as a hero. He could count on one hand, maybe two, the number of times he ever came close.

When he saved a little girl from the wolves. Oh, but he was rather little as well, and just as terribly afraid as her. So maybe it doesn’t count. When he restored clean water to a dirty river village— oh, he’d only broken the dam to help Dream, and that’s far too selfish in nature to be considered heroic. He hadn’t done it on purpose.

And that’s precisely the problem, George isn’t sure he’s done anyone any tremendous good on purpose, and furthermore out of the pure goodness of his heart. He doesn’t think that makes him a bad person, not everyone is meant to be a hero. Not everyone has the heart for it.

It was always Dream who was the hero. In all their childhood adventures, Dream was the one who would have them stop in their path to help the needy, the sick, the suffering. George was the one who would try and fail to get some sense through his head. It’s not that he’s a bad person, he just didn’t think they were in the means to be heroes, needy, starving, and sick as they were.

But Dream had a habit of being a hero, and it’s one that didn’t break until they settled down. Until they invited more people into their lives. George watched that heart of gold dull and hide itself away. The heroism didn’t leave, it just turned itself into something else. And it was unfortunate because no matter how much George protested his selflessness (because it was so often at the cost of his wellbeing and safety), it was something that he truly loved about him. His hero.

It’s half of why George doubts the reality of his situation. It can’t be. Because George would never claw his way through obsidian in the water like a half-drowned rat to save someone. He would never put his own neck on the line for someone else. He would never do something so stereotypically heroic, something straight out of a book.

He stares at Dream, sitting on the floor weaving a basket from flax and reeds.

Dream once called him a selfish damsel. It was a joke, but George didn’t think it was untrue. Well, the damsel part was untrue. Mostly. Maybe. Their scoreboard of saving each other is… uneven. Breaking Dream out of Pandora has to count for fifty tallies. George demands it.

George is in his weirdness again. The heavy state between sleeping and waking, where he doubts everything he sees. Dreaming, he dares to think. How many times has he dreamt about saving Dream? Saving Dream and convincing him to run away? Too many times. And he remembers the feeling of waking up after all too well. The heartache and disappointment and hatred for everything and everyone.

The memories of walking the halls of the prison seem so distant, filled with water and oil. They seem impossible.

Dream pinches himself and hisses, the half-done weave unfurling slightly as his hands recoil. He checks his fingers as if they were cut. George takes too long to react.

“Are you okay?” he says finally. Dream looks up at him, green eyes shining. He looks embarrassed.

“Yeah, no, yeah. I just cut myself a little.” Dream’s voice is soft and a little embarrassed in a way that makes George’s heart stop and start again. It peels one layer of fog off his mind. “Good morning. How long have you been standing there?”

Dream is nervous and awkward like a new roommate. It could be appropriate if they haven’t loved each other all their lives. Well, George never actually got confirmation if that’s wholly true. Dream could have stopped loving him for a little while there. But he’s at least mostly sure that Dream loves him now. Hopefully not just for saving him.

George blinks, looking around. His feet are deathly cold in the doorway. Dream sits in front of the fire weaving his basket, and the world outside is pure white with snow. George comes to sit with him, vision glossy, like the world was smeared with grease.

“I dunno,” he answers, too late, “I just woke up.”

Dream pulls the pile of flax and reeds and willow to the side to make space for him. George pulls his blanket further around himself, rubbing his eyes. He’s sitting on a couple crumbs of dried plants but he’s decided he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to move to fix it. Luckily for him, Dream notices and pulls the bent reed out from under him. George mumbles a gratitude.

“Are you okay?” Dream asks. He doesn’t cast his voice like he used to. He’s quiet these days.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Are you feeling weird? The soup?”

George laughs a little like it’s the first time he’s heard him call it that. All the memories come to him a few moments too late. Yes, right, this is a common occurrence. George’s smile drops in a way that’s too obvious. Dream frowns at him.

George is remembering himself. The heroics he thinks of as so alien aren’t quite so against his nature as he thought. It’s just that they only show their face if it’s for Dream. It doesn’t make him a hero, he’s still a selfish prick, but it means this is all a little more real than before. He’s remembering more and more as he wakes up, feeling more and more grounded.

“Do I need to, um… do anything for you?” Dream asks. George hates how he asks for things now. Like he isn’t sure how to be a person anymore. This time isn’t as bad as others, but sometimes just the questioning quirk of his voice will make him sad. “I can jog your memory again. Or I can get your journal–”

George replies too fast. “I don’t want you to get up.”

“Okay. Um… this is our house,”

“I know this is our house.” George rolls his eyes.

“Okay. How about you just ask me, then.” Dream picks his basket weave back up, setting to work tightening the braids that went loose while he wasn’t holding it down. George feels bad snapping at him, even if it wasn’t much. He rubs his knuckles on Dream’s wrist as an apology. The little nod he gets back means it was accepted. It’s always nice to know Dream still remembers their old rituals.

“I’m just, um… it doesn’t feel real.” George leans his head on the edge of the coffee table, the one Dream pushed up against the couch to make room for his weaving. George lets his eyes get lost in the braids and patterns, following the maze of reed. He thinks Dream must be planning to use it as a fish trap– he’s always been partial to pike. “I don’t remember how we got here.”

This must happen more often than George thinks, because all of the concern he was expecting is pushed to the back of Dream’s mind. He watches it happen.

“You broke me out of prison. We’re waiting out the winter until summer, and then deciding what we want to do.” Dream’s voice is a practiced calm, like reciting a textbook. “You want me to stay. I want to tie up loose ends.”

“Why are you here… if you don’t want to be here?”

“I can’t do anything in the state I’m in right now.” Dream almost-laughs, only letting out a small sardonic snicker. The details of his face and body finally load in George’s mind, suddenly, as if they only just now took form, and he feels so stupid for not noticing before. The skinniness of his body, the scars on his arms, the two prosthetic fingers. Having just woken up is the culprit, it dulls his senses and replaces them with delusions. Or maybe he’s simply gotten used to the way he looks, and his hindbrain took no issue. “And you keep my bedroom door bolted from the outside.”

“What? Is that true?”

Dream smiles at him. “No.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I know.”

“So– how? How did I get you out?” George tries to imagine it. Clad in shiny armor with a formidable weapon, a getaway horse and a real plan. It’s just not him, even if it was for Dream’s sake.

“I don’t know.” He says it in a way that suggests he wishes he did. “You were– weird. Like this. And sopping wet, and like… sleepwalking.”

“How long ago?”

“Um… it was when the trees were just starting to turn orange.”

He’s not good with time. George groans, rubbing his eyes still. His memories are slow to appear, but they do. It’s not cause for huge celebration. They fade in and reveal themselves at his prompting like the tide reveals the stones.

He looks around at their house, hidden somewhere deep in the tundra. Nobody for miles. He remembers Dream, in a state, hiding food and weapons in every nook and cranny he could finagle. He thinks of it as safe. Dream feels, to some degree, safe here. That makes George happy.

“I remember.” George nods.

“It’s not very complicated.”

“Everything with you is complicated.”

Dream rolls his eyes. He’s farther away from the fire than George– and then a memory hits him, one of Dream in that cell. Cowering from the heat, eyes big like dinner plates. He went off his head, if his memory serves. Begged him to leave: he couldn’t be here, he has to leave, he wasn’t real…

He remembers guiding him through the tunnels and corridors by the hand, leading in front and pulling him along. He was so skinny he weighed nearly nothing, and when he protested and tried to yank away, George was able to keep him in his grip. Which meant that there was something very very wrong with him.

Dream has asked him, over and over, how he’d managed to get in and out, and George has never been able to tell him. He still isn’t able. He truly doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s made it a habit to always get what he wants. Maybe something in the universe finally bowed to that will.

And in true fashion to tradition, when he got what he wanted, Dream was the one who had to figure out the logistics of their situation. What they were going to eat, where they were going to go. If you heard Dream tell it, you’d think George fainted or something as soon as they could look back over their shoulders and not see Pandora’s Vault any longer. But Dream just doesn’t remember the nitty gritty of it. George remembers holding him close to his chest while the sirens went off for hours, felt like days. They hid like foxes in a hole in the ground.

Dream is paranoid. He’s always been paranoid but it’s worse than ever. It’s not like George can blame him. It’s just different. And ‘different’ is neither bad nor good, but it certainly means ‘not the same.’

George knows he’s changed too. He doesn’t know the exact ways how, or if it’s anything like how Dream has changed, but he knows Dream isn’t the only one who’s different. They’ve been making it work, regardless.

Sometimes he catches Dream staring at him when he thinks he can’t see him, or when he thinks George is asleep. He looks at him with something sick– something so grateful and reverent it’s awful. A new cog in his hero– he’s been well trained by someone else. It makes him angry. Possessive in ways he’s too ashamed to let materialize. He can’t let himself feel good about the way Dream looks at him now.

Dream takes his new fish trap and gets them a pike and a rabbit. Presumably not caught with the fish trap. By the time he comes home, George is at his wits again. The journal helps, notes his fully-awake self writes for his sleepy-self so they’re both on the same page. It was Dream’s idea. They both have one– George isn’t proud of it, but he reads through Dream’s every time he leaves the house.

Today, he reads through Dream’s before he even cracks open his own. Dream writes about his week, the things he’s been eating and when. Sometimes George is blessed to read his own name.

george has been remembering easier lately. i should be waking him up earlier

The guilt from invading Dream’s privacy washes away when he opens his own journal and sees Dream’s annotated his latest entry in green ink. They’re equally in each other’s business, and that makes his day. The entry itself is mortifying, but George would be lying if he said he didn’t secretly wish Dream would read it and answer him.

I don’t know if we’re still together. don’t act like it because if he weirdchamps me again i’ll kill you

^ when did i weirdchamp you?

They eat fish together with nothing to talk about. Dream’s been doing better, too. With touch and being less… like he’s always in a crisis. They’re sleeping in the same bed again. Dream preferred the floor for a long time.

In the middle of the night George wakes slightly to the feeling of kisses being planted to the back of his neck, down his spine and over his shoulders. Dream pulls aside his shirt to reach his skin and everything. George smiles where he can’t see.

Since it’s winter, they don’t have a lot of vegetables. Sometimes Dream brings back a pumpkin from god knows where– George suspects Techno, but it’s not like Dream tells him anything. They have some berry bushes in the backyard, good for juice and pie.

Dream says he finds peace in hunting. George can’t imagine how, but he goes with him sometimes and it seems to be true. Maybe it’s easier for him to focus his thoughts. George isn’t sure. George is just a half-functioning damsel, after all. He’s useful for skill shots and skinning the rabbits, at least. It’s hard sometimes, sitting around and letting Dream do everything.

It’s how it used to be, but… well, it’s just different now. George frequently finds himself out of character. He wants to be useful– it seems like Dream has grown a love for useful things. He wants to be in that category. He wants to be all the things Dream loves and deems important. If only he’d let him in whatever hell he’s thrown himself into.

“I love you,” Dream says one night, in the hallowed hall they call their bedroom. Where the deepest secrets are confessed. It takes George by surprise, lungs and heart still racing. He’s not quite all-there after fooling around for so long. He blinks, processing the joy, the accomplishment– but also the exhaustion. He turns his head to look at Dream, hair messy, like gold threads on the pillows. “I’m sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry for that?”

He shrugs hopelessly. “I just think it puts you in a bad spot.”

“Ugh, I don’t care.” George rolls into his chest. It’s all too cold without him. “I want to be there. In the bad spot.”

An arm comes to wrap around his back and hold him close. A soft kiss is planted to his bruised mouth, already sore and bit from kissing all night. George is quickly becoming too sleepy to stay awake. Maybe Dream knows that, maybe he can feel the magic in the air when George starts to slip away. He presses his cold, cold hand to Dream’s heart. He wishes he could pull it out and keep it safe. Keep him.

“I wish you knew what was good for you.”

“I don’t have to. That’s your job.” George mumbles against his lips. Dream doesn’t kiss him again, lowering his head to let him rest. “I know what’s good for you.”

“Do you really think that?”

“I know that.”

As time passes and the worst of winter is over, George can’t help but pray for the frost to stay. In Dream’s journal, he writes about the steps he’ll take when he goes back home. He still calls it home. George’s eyes sting with tears as he closes it and tucks it away.

At dinner, George doesn’t sit. Dream doesn’t sit either, despite food already plated for him. He knows what it’s about.

“Are you really going to leave again?”

“...yes. When summer comes.”

George leans back against the counter. “Are you going to come back?”

“I want you to stay here. It’s, safe here.”

“But you won’t come back?”

Dream looks stressed almost instantly. George can’t bring himself to feel bad. His heart is too close to breaking, even though Dream never promised him anything, so it really isn’t fair to him.

“I won’t promise you anything. For your sake,” Dream runs a hand through his hair, and George scoffs, “But I want to come back. Until this is all over. And– and when it’s over, we can be together all the time!”

“Is that what you want?”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

George’s crossed arms fall to his sides. His mind is full of cotton. He pronounces his words emphatically. “I want to be what you want. If you’ll only come see me out of– pity, then don’t bother.”

“That’s not what I said,”

“You’re barely saying anything! Do you not feel like you owe me anything? I don’t– I won’t ask for a lot, I just, I just thought–”

“Okay, okay, George, please, just listen to me.” Dream is in his space now, which is unusual. It makes his spikes lower. Dream is trying. “I’ll– I’ll come see you. I promise.”

And there’s that look again. The one where his eyes train on George, hyper focused on his expression and body language. The one that feels like all the devotion and obedience in his body rise to the surface to prove that they’re still there. It makes his skin crawl.

“I just– I can’t have you involved. I can’t. I got a taste of it months ago and I can’t ever feel that way again.” Dream lowers himself. For a second George thinks he’s going to drop to his knees and the mere thought makes his stomach invert. But Dream’s posture only bends, eye to eye as he pleads with him. “You understand that, right? Please.”

“Dream, stop, I’m not– you’re not–”

In trouble, he wants to say. But as it stands, that isn’t true. Dream is very much in trouble with him. Should he change that? How can he reach inside himself to turn his heart off and talk to him like a normal person? Or should he accept the reverence, should he think it appropriate?

No, he shouldn’t. Because it isn’t his. This isn’t what he trained Dream to do. This isn’t anything like their old rituals. Or maybe it holds remnants, he can recognize some of it, but it’s become corrupted now. It’s not an affection he can accept, because it wasn’t written with him in mind. He’s not Dream’s authority. He may want Dream to obey him, bend to his will, but George knows the subtle differences between love and obedience.

“Dream. It’s okay. I just, I don’t…” He looks to the window, then to the floor, desperately avoiding his eyes. “I don’t want you to act like I don’t exist. Okay. That’s all I want.”

“I love you.” Dream says. “I just want to keep you safe.”

A subtle confession. Abandoning him was all in the name of keeping him safe. George almost laughs. It’s so stereotypically heroic, so self sacrificial. George should have ironed out the heroics in him when they were younger, when he still had the chance.

“We’re not good people.” George looks at him. “I wish you’d stop acting like it. You don’t have to go back. You don’t owe anything to anyone.”

“I owe everything to everyone.”

“And you want me to stay here. You’ll come by when you need a warm body, right?” He says it like it’s a deal he wouldn’t gladly accept.

“I will come by when I can. You know. When it’s safe. And we can do anything you want.”

“Don’t make it sound like– like I’m renting you!”

He steps on one of the hair triggers that rule over Dream’s frustration. George thinks it’s a victory. “How do you want it to sound? I’m really trying here!”

“I want it to sound like you actually want to be with me, you ass.”

“I do!” Dream says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it is, and George just can’t see it from this angle. “I have responsibilities that aren’t– negotiable.”

George doesn’t understand why he’s fighting this. Maybe he’s scared of what will happen if there’s no one around to wake him. Maybe he’s ambitious enough to think he can haggle a better deal. The strength it takes to fight with Dream is quickly leaving him. It’s a great arrangement. More than he could ask for just half a year ago. Something he clawed through obsidian to obtain.

He’s seen the leash prison put on him. He’s held it, even. Pulled on it, led Dream around with it. George has decided he doesn’t want it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it takes the words out of Dream’s mouth, whatever he was going to say. “You have no idea what it was like to be without you. I can’t do it again.”

“I promise–”

“I trust you.” George’s eyes are furrowed and serious. “But I can’t wait until it’s all over.”

If he can’t make Dream see how futile this all is, then it’s something he’ll have to discover himself. But George won’t wait another two years for it to happen.

It’s the spring after their winter together, and George hasn’t seen Dream in two months. He knows because he’s been tallying it in his journal, which has seen an uptick in use without a roommate.

Techno visited, once. Gave him supplies. They must be closer than they thought, George somewhere on the fringes of the tundra where the four seasons are allowed to exist– watered down as they are. It pissed him off more than it should have– of course Dream would send someone else before he came to do it himself.

Maybe he’s making a name for himself again. Maybe he’s in hot water and can’t come, or he’ll be followed. It’s not like George gets a lot of news out here. He’s slept through days straight, he’s sure of it.

He’s pouting at the ceiling, in the middle of some pessimistic bratty rant about his life when he hears that stupid knock Dream does on everything. It knocks the gloom straight out of his chest. He races down the stairs, everything in the world leagues and bounds less important than opening the door.

Dream stands in his mask, a light smattering of snow on his hood and cloak. George reaches to pull him in by the neck before Dream can even get a word out. A promise kept. He’s halfway through pulling his mask off when George jumps up to hug him. The force of it makes them both wobble.

“Are you real?” George asks in his shoulder. He almost doesn’t believe it. An armored hand rubs his back.

“Yeah,” Dream’s voice rumbles in his chest, vibrations sending through George’s bones. It’s his new favorite feeling.

George pulls away. He interrupted the de-masking process, so half his face is still covered. It looks stupid. It’s George’s new favorite thing.

George couldn’t care less about the gift. It's nice, and he'll use it every day, but all joys are overshadowed by the presence of the man in his home– even if covered in dirt and scorch marks as he is. If he could choose any gift, he’d wanted a burner comm that he would be allowed to message him from, but the quilt is nice. George leaves it folded on the kitchen table, all pleasantries said and done with. Yes, he loves it, it’s beautiful, I love the color green.

He pushes himself up to kiss him. He tastes like gunpowder and blood. It’s George’s new favorite taste.

#my fics #c!dnf

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gogogodzilla · 3 years ago

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Chapter 3

Summary: You get assigned to a case and Gavin is an asshole. ✧ masterlist ✧ ao3 ✧ wattpad ✧ ✧ previous chapter ✧ next chapter ✧

You gripped your coffee cup tightly as you walked into the DPD, exhausted from the late night before. You passed the android receptionist, flashing your badge, and called out a 'good morning' as you walked through the barriers.

You hurried to your desk across from Gavin's. "Morning, Chris," you said as you dropped your belongings onto your desk before taking your seat.

"Hey, doc," Chris greeted from his desk. "Crazy night, huh?"

You let out a sigh, laughing a little, "Oh yeah, I love spending my nights looking at corpses and watching androids interrogate other androids." Chris let out a chuckle as he returned to his work. You attempted to follow suit, scanning over the massive amounts of cases that were piling up.

Even footsteps behind you caught your attention, and you swiveled in your chair. Connor walked in and your eyes followed him as he surveyed the office, looking for something. Not satisfied with what he found, Connor headed into the break room. You slumped a little in your seat when you lost sight of him.

"Our friend, the plastic detective, is back in town!" Gavin's voice carried from the break room, causing your ears to perk up. Your eyes met Chris's as you pushed yourself away from your desk, ready to stop Gavin before he bit off more than he could chew.

"Better go save our new detective before Gavin gets ahold of him," Chris smiles at you as you stalk towards the break room.

"Hey, bring me a coffee, dipshit!" Gavin barked, stepping toward Connor.

"Aren't you a little too old to be bullying your coworkers, Reed?" You entered the break room, crossing your arms tightly.

Gavin blanched before scrunching his face in annoyance. "Really, we're back to this, Doc?" Gavin fired back, venom lacing his voice. "This doesn't involve you."

"Don't listen to him, Connor," you order, your eyes never leaving Gavin's. He balls his fists at his sides, anger evident on his face. "Let's go," you replied, gently grabbing onto Connor's arm. Connor gave you a small nod before heading back to the office area.

"You really gonna defend that plastic prick?" Gavin accused as he took a step towards you. You should've just followed Connor back to your desk.

"That's not fair, Gavin," you whispered, trying not to let his words cut you too deep. "That's not what that was about and you know it," you counter, your eyes softening when they meet Gavin's. You've always been neutral towards androids, whereas Gavin was not.

"You know what this is about, Sweetheart? This is about that fucker," Gavin seethed, "threatening our livelihood."

You dropped your arms, hands balling to fists at your sides as you took a step closer to Gavin. "Maybe if you knew how to do your job, then you wouldn't feel so threatened by him, Detective." You glared at him for a final time before turning on your heel and heading back to your desk.

You dropped down into your chair, silently fuming. "Your heart rate is rising well above the normal level, going on like this for much longer could result in lasting harm," Connor articulated, standing stoically in front of your desk.

"Yeah, Gavin has that effect," you grumbled, crossing your arms. Connor stood there for a moment, and your eyes raked over him. This was the first time you were able to get a good look at him. You wondered if he was naturally this stiff or if Cyberlife programmed him that way.

"Why are you here so early anyways?" You inquired, looking up at Connor from your seated position. You felt your cheeks warm up; he was standing so close.

"I've been instructed to find Lieutenant Anderson," he peered at you, "do you know what time he usually comes in?"

Chris scoffed, barely hiding the amusement in his voice, "Depends on where he was the night before."

You rolled your eyes before looking back at Connor, "He's usually in around noon, hopefully, we'll see him before then."

"Thank you, Doctor," Connor replied before turning to find Hank's desk. You watched in amusement as he strode around the office, looking for the right desk. When he finally found the right desk he took a seat, his posture stiff as he folded his hands in front of him.

Hank arrived and Connor stood, "It's good to see you again, Lieutenant," he greeted.

"Oh, Jesus," Hank said, as he rolled his eyes. You hide your grin behind your coffee mug as you watch them interact.

"Hank!" Captain Fowler shouted your last name, "In my office!" You jumped slightly before meeting Hank's eyes. Your stomach turned as you got up from your seat, following Hank and Connor into Fowler's office.

Connor held the door of Fowler's office for you and you nodded your head in thanks as you moved to take the seat next to Hank. Fowler began his speech, but you were only half listening. You took a chance to sneak a look at Connor at the back of Fowler's office; his posture was rigid as he clasped his hands in front of his body.

"This isn't just Cyberlife's problem anymore. It's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before shit hits the fan," Fowler paused before running a hand down his face. "I want you three to investigate these cases and see if there's any link," Fowler concluded as he looked between you, Hank, and Connor.

Hank began his protests before you could even begin to comprehend what Fowler was telling you. "Cyberlife sent over this android to help with the investigation. It's a state-of-the-art prototype. It'll act as your partner," Fowler said with finality.

Your jaw dropped. Connor is here to stay.

Hank leaned into Fowler's desk, "No fuckin way!" He snapped, pointing his finger at the captain, "I don't need a partner, and certainly not this plastic prick!" Hank paused for a moment before looking over at you and mumbling a 'sorry doc'. You shrugged in response.

A growl left Hank's mouth and he stormed out of Fowler's office, the door slamming against the glass walls on his way out. You and Connor watched him leave before turning your attention back to Fowler.

You stood from your seat, "Captain," you said before sending him a nod and making your way back to your desk. Your exit is the calm after Hank's whirlwind storm. You spare a glance behind you, enough to see Connor say something to Fowler and Fowler brushing him off.

You plopped into your chair, watching as Connor approaches the Lieutenant, wincing in anticipation of Hank's reaction. Surprisingly, Hank was silent at his desk, his arms crossed as he stared at his terminal.

You watched Connor attempt to make conversation. He was just so damn persistent. You could tell he really wanted to be on the Lieutenant's good side. Their conversation came to an end and Connor reached out to the keyboard on his desk. The skin on his hand retracted revealing the porcelain plastic beneath and you cringed. You don't think you'd ever be able to get used to that.

Your brows shot up as Connor stood up and moved in front of Hank's desk. Whatever he said set the Lieutenant off and he grabbed Connor's collar and pushed him against the plastic divider.

You sprung up from your seat and hurried to intervene. Jesus, this was going to be tricky. "Lieutenant," you interrupted as you laid your hand on his arm, "let's not destroy the merchandise, yeah?" He scrunched his nose, conflicted, before dropping his arms from Connor's jacket.

"Lieutenant..." Chris cut in, "I have some information on the AX400 that attacked the guy last night... It's been spotted in the Ravendale district." You sent Chris a grimace, your cheeks flushing. Goddamnit Hank, get it together.

"I'm on it," Hank replied, his eyes never leaving Connor's. He turned and headed to the door, "C'mon doc!" He shouted over his shoulder.

"Shit," you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Maybe try a different approach when it comes to the Lieutenant," you joked, a small grin forming on your face. Connor was silent while you grabbed your coat from your desk, "It's okay, Connor," you moved in front of him; he looked almost sullen, "the Lieutenant will warm up eventually."

You patted his arm gently, "Let's go find a deviant." The corner of Connor's mouth quirked up and a feeling of satisfaction filled your chest. You liked when he smiled.

You turned on your heel, following Hank to his car with Connor on your heels.

Rain was pounding against the pavement of the parking lot as you jogged to meet Hank at his car, one of the non-self-driving cars in the city. Connor moved to open the passenger side door but Hank stopped him, "Doc gets shotgun, not you." Connor frowned before removing his hand and stepping away.

You switched places with Connor and hopped into the passenger side, eager to get out of the rain. "He should sit up front, his legs are longer," you offered, a small smile on your face that grew with Hank's annoyance.

Hank narrowed his eyes, "It can earn its place in the passenger seat like the rest of ya." You raised your hands in fake surrender as Hank started the car and began the drive to the Ravendale district. You were in for it now.

#detroit become human #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #reader insert #no y/n #past!gavin reed x reader #hank anderson #hank and connor #chapter 3 #criminal analysis #dbh rk800

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thesummerstorms · 2 years ago

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Rev’s Favorite MXTX Fics (1/2)

Heaven Official’s Blessing

’Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

After getting lost in Ghost City, Xie Lian bargains away years of servitude to the Gambler’s Den to help a man in need. He dons the robes of a worker and hides his face and life behind an enchanted mask, protecting himself from the city's denizens. Xie Lian finds an unexpected home in Ghost City before he ever sees the lord of it, the infamous Hua Cheng. When he finally does, something about himself seems to catch the attention of the Ghost King, slowly striking up an unusual friendship. Xie Lian must figure out how to navigate his burgeoning feelings, how to keep his identity to himself, and how to get over a ghost so clearly in love with someone else.

the ghost king's bride by arahir

Ghosts won't stop giving Xie Lian flowers, Hua Cheng won't stop teasing, and Xie Lian is out here doing his best, man.

Aren't Alright by Boomchick

It’s been over a week since Xie Lian checked in which, for Mu Qing, is about the longest silence since the one that lasted 800 years. He should probably be glad for the quiet, but instead…

Instead he calls in Feng Xin’s help, and goes to see what’s wrong.

He should have expected this, honestly.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing arrive at the house on Mt. Taicang to find Xie Lian 8 years old both in body and mind. The main problem? Xie Lian isn’t the only one who’s 8 years old. What are two gods to do with a Hong Hong-er?

Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System:

I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite

AU based on The Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir (familiarity with that story's not required).

Wherein Shen Yuan transmigrates into a harem intrigues romance novel (gay edition), Yue Qingyuan really fucks up, Liu Qingge is not suitable for his job, and no one even remotely sees Luo Binghe coming.

Metagaming by esama

[Self-Saving System Activated! You will be now returned to your original starting position.]

Shen Qingqiu dies and gets a second chance and decides to try a different approach.

Character Optimisation by esama

[Bonus mission, "Me, Myself and I" is now available. Would you like to activate the mission?]

Shen Qingqiu tries to sort himself out. Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge try to help.

pure white and snow-bright by AMereDream

The first time you are used by old hands but a new soul, it is out of pure curiosity. One hand on your scabbard, one hand on your hilt, and a soft gasp of delight at the sight of your beauty. You preen. You are a beautiful thing, and you know it.

The second time you are used by old hands but a new soul, you kill a man.

(Or, you are Xiu Ya. Perhaps that is not what you were in the past, but it is what you are now.)

Sit With Your Soul by Tossawary

The original Shen Qingqiu suffers a severe deviation that unsettles his daemon, transforming them into a childish and inconstant creature, too curious and without any memories of the life that has made him so bitter. His soul is now unrecognizable to him and everyone can see his humiliation.

Shen Yuan isn't exactly happy to have transmigrated into Proud Immortal Demon Way at all, much less as this doomed scum villain's daemon.

A His Dark Materials Fusion AU.

when at first i learned to speak (i used all my words to fight) by xfrinz

Xiao Jiu doesn't know where he is, but he doesn't need to know where he is to not trust it. The only person that Xiao Jiu trusts is Qi-ge.

AKA: Another Shen Qingqiu De-Aging Fic

You came to me through the green of a forest by namio

...I woke, and the low moon’s glimmer on a rafter Seemed to be your face, still floating in the air.

A gentle laugh, inky reeds upon a white fan. This is a figure he will never see again, Liu Qingge realizes.

The Many Trials and Tribulations of Ming Fan by The Feels Whale

Ming Fan just wants to get through ONE supervised night hunt without this happening.

Or: the one where Shen Qingqiu continues to be attractive to people who aren’t Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. It's a problem.

---

“Da-shixiong.” Ning-shimei’s groan was barely audible to anyone who didn’t have a cultivator’s enhanced senses. To him and the rest of their assembled siblings, though, it rang out like a bell. The only one who didn’t notice was Shizun. He was up ahead and deep in conversation with the Lord who’d summoned them to investigate a series of local disappearances.

“I saw,” Ming Fan sighed. “Eyes front. Everyone knows their roles.”

Frankly, he’d been braced for this moment since he’d asked around about the family hosting them for the duration of this investigation. He’d discovered that they had two marriage-aged daughters in the household, neither of whom were engaged.

Help! My Boss is a Bitch. by x_los

Shen Yuan was born to be Reviewer 2. Decades after his marriage, Empress Shen Qingqiu is living his best life at the entire demonic civil service's expense.

Grasping a Kite with Broken String by yamabuki_kana (cygnisor)

Despite how hard Shen Qingqiu tries to hide it, everyone knows how he mourns for Luo Binghe's loss in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

Liu Qingge tries to help him.

Tongfang by The Feels Whale

Shen Yuan is reincarnated as a cannon fodder character and eventual murder victim in one of the whodunnit arcs in Proud Immortal Demon Way. Things escalate quickly.

Or: that one where young Luo Binghe’s career goal is ‘Bride’.

#SVSSS #TGCF #Fic Recs #I only have like... five fics bookmarked for TGCF #so not many recs there #It's just not a story I feel the need to read much fic for

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brawltogethernow · 4 years ago

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I suppose the next step then is "BBC Merlin but it's SpideyTorch"

Oh my god. TEACHER, TEACHER, SHE’S TARGETING ME okay okay uh.

Peter, secret warlock, goes to Camelot with his mother figure, May, who does not know about the warlock thing because it kicked in when he was a teenager and they both strategically decline to tell each other things. Gaius is Reed, who was the court sorcerer and is now the court scientist. (He’s not an old man except spiritually where he has been a senile professor since he was 19.) He literally didn’t change anything he was doing, considering science and magic as different points on one spectrum anyway-- No. That’s Doom’s schtick. DOOM was the court sorcerer, and was fired. He is upset about it. Reed is just a science guy but worked extensively with Victor, so he’s kind of useful, but not as useful as Peter was hoping.

I know very little about Sue and Johnny’s dad except that he’s a supervillain who...faked his death, revealed himself, and then died for real like 12 hours later? Did he also fake his wife’s death at some point? Would he do a mad king magic ban thing? Idk but for plot purposes we’ll say yes. They conveniently already share Arthur’s dead mom syndrome. Maybe their aunt whose name is different depending on what issue you’re reading is also here just to convolute the court drama. Wait no didn’t Arthur have a shady uncle show up after like five seasons. She.

Peter is very talented at finicky, specific magical formulas. (Reed: :) )But in practice he really prefers to just slam out a big wave of power, and if that doesn’t solve the problem, repeat until it does. (Reed: :( ) He gives this a go at the beginning of sorting out any problem, like restarting your glitching computer, and if it doesn’t work the problem is complicated enough to be an episode plot.

So obviously I’m still gonna do secret identity shit? Peter saves the young prince and heir’s life and is rewarded with a second job; he only came here for job reasons and you’re all lucky he doesn’t turn down paying jobs otherwise he’d be having some words with the king. Peter also accidentally becomes a masked vigilante out in the town. His very existence is illegal because he’s obviously doing magic! They keep sending his boss out to hunt him down, and their eyes are always locking dramatically and shit in brief silent stare-offs from opposite ends of the street in thunder storms at sunset until Johnny’s horse rears and breaks the eye contact causing Peter to snap out of it and flee. You know how it is.

Sue is older than Johnny and thus older than the magic ban, so she responded to it by going “:) That’s nice, Dad” and socking away a bunch of books before they could go on the fire, and now she’s just a sorceress on the dl. This is approx. a first season finale reveal, because her real superpower is being able to keep her mouth the hell shut. I literally cannot with how nobody in Merlin ever exchanges information, so shortly after Peter and Reed learn this they exchange secrets, like sane people, which opens up their resources a bit.

That said Sue is an extra legitimate royal, not the Morgana equivalent. Maybe Gwen should be Gwen, especially since I have thought Gwen/Johnny/Peter has potential since reading Spider-Man/Fantastic Four (which if you read an earlier ask, I recommend if you want to see new art of Gwen being mean in hair clips). But Peter/Gwen and Merlin/Freya are like...same energy except the latter wasn’t as well done. And Merlin’s Guinevere honestly more reminds me of Betty. Morgana--

(wheeze)

(cough)

Okay I thought this trying to reconcile as much of the cast as possible and I now can’t unthink it so. The king’s ward is Dorrie Evans. Yes she goes nebulously sapphic evil witch queen. Sure she was an unpleasant teenager and readers hate her, but you know what, I’ll simp, whatever. Let Dorrie poison some people. In a cape. This feels natural to me. Also Betty Brant and Dorrie Evans???? Betty/Dorrie vibes???? I guess!!!!

So like. The thing where Arthur gets mystically whammied by love potions once a month, except also Johnny’s normal relationship-anticipating giddiness happening organically mixed in, the part before he actually starts dating someone and becomes immediately depressed. Peter is in the bg sarcastically dismissing magical incidents saying he can’t even tell the difference, and Reed is like 😬 Please Check Anyway. Peter’s not, haha, Peter’s not jealous, Johnny is just an idiot, and, okay maybe Peter is a little jealous! But it doesn’t matter because the prince is going to marry some noble and--

Reed: Prince Johnathan is a bit like a little brother to me, so Please Stop Telling Me About Your Problems.

Reed/Sue is reciprocated but on permanent hold for class reasons. Spideytorch is in the same boat except they’re also stupid and working it out by dating their way through the whole country, except Peter is actually into that and Johnny is not.

The dragon is...Ezekiel?????? That’s the right level of wise wry mentor who’s very shady and will kill you, so he’s a dragon now. And when he tells Peter he’s the (other) chosen one, Peter full stop doesn’t believe him. This disbelief goes on extensively. Peter is not a fate-oriented person. Johnny would love to hear about the fate thing, but no one will tell him.

Literally I’m just going to add more chronologically unmoored medievalish shit to Merlin now to cram more of the cast in. There’s some kind of town crier/herald outfit, and Jonah is their boss. He’s just out in the road yelling sometimes even though he can delegate that. The buglers otherwise known as Bugle staff named Peter’s vigilante persona the Spider, which was supposed to sound menacing but is in practice also cool. This is out-of-universe fairly equivalent to Merlin’s real name as a neat two-syllable animal word and possible title. In-universe maybe I’d elbow out Emrys and just use this. Merlin is already very servants-don’t-work-like-that, so Betty just also has two jobs for no reason so she can knock elbows with them.

MJ is the court jester and knows absolutely everything, which is a dramatic mid-game reveal that isn’t exactly foreshadowed so much as always possible while carefully obscured from the viewer (the reader). Before this she’s already a Wise Fool, Shakespeare-ways archetype character, it’s just not clear how much. She is the most important character in Homestuck Merlin Spider.

Every ship is real for at least 30 seconds. Most of the extended FF cast are either magical antagonists or weird nobles.

Ben????? (Grimm, I mean. Ben Parker is dead. Ben Reilly is a recurring episodic plot.) This show was painfully formulaic and would simply not keep someone with any version of his deal in the main cast, but he’s a full quarter of the FF so. A magical accident approximated his rock body deal. Maybe specifically tying him to ~the magic of the land~. And then, uh. Wandering the country is too satellite-like. Hiding out in a forbidden castle wing is interesting but doesn’t do him justice. So I guess it’s a come and go semivoluntary transformation thing that’s kept secret? Rock werewolf. Were-rock. Good opportunity to fake out like you’re going to do a monster of the week plot, and then he contributes to the tension to abolish the magic ban.

Knights?? Wyatt is there from the beginning, being tall and reassuring (holding a sword edition). Not sure how him or his immediate ancestors got to Europe and then ended up this involved with the local nobility, but it was probably exciting. And Flash, or he’s an early addition. Either way he’s from the same village as Peter and is approximately White’s Kay, except directed at the wizard instead of the future king, and otherwise you can completely superimpose their comic dynamic including the fanboying over the secret identity angle, which is entertainingly seditious. ...Others. I don’t know enough FF characters for this. I’ve accidentally implied the eventual addition of Bennet Brant, but his evil sorcerer of the week energy is very strong, so maybe not. Randy eventually because I already implied the Robertsons and can see it.

This is so long, covers nothing, and explains none of the namechecks. Using both these characters’ franchises in one fusion is too much stuff. I keep not talking about the core relationship because it’s just. Like That. I don’t feel like I need to elaborate on the Merthur dynamic, even transposed on a different ship. It’s Just Like That.

#merlin #spiderman #fantastic four #spideytorch #bbc merlin #spidey #ff #marvel #phoenixyfriend #asks answered

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connorandersons-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober day 15: Strength, RK1700

Ok, ngl I’m running out of days. Like I’ve got tomorrow and thats it for pre-written days. Soooo, I’m kinda stressing, I know that like I don’t have to write all the days, but now that I’ve started I feel like I have to. I have written over 90k words for kinktober in all, which is a huge accomplishment for me. Anyway, so this is just a small warning that the days may be late or won’t be written at all, sorry.

Hope you enjoy this day, though!

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

It had started as a semi-innocent bet. Connor had tried to avoid Nines, scared the man would be everything Cyberlife claimed he was. Nines even stayed partners with Gavin Reed and managed to get the man to calm somewhat.

So, ok, Connor was a bit jealous of Nines. He was tall, strong, intimidating, handsome, really strong, fast, smarter, ugh! It was infuriating. Not to mention how stoic and quiet he often was. And when he stared at Connor it was like he could see into his soul.

But even with Connor's avoidance, Nines still stayed close to Connor when he could. He would do things that Connor was going to do and it drove him crazy. He didn't need someone else doing his job just because they thought they were better than everyone.

Yet everyone seemed to adore Nines, even Hank quickly warmed up to him. It made no sense! Nines were made for the military, not talking to people, so how was he so good at making friends?

Of course, Reed was the one that had started the bet. It wasn't even too bad of an idea, just who could last longer in a fight. Not brute strength, everyone knew Nines would win that even with how strong Connor was.

They wouldn't be allowed to actually damage each other, but soon the whole office was placing bets. Hank had thankfully bet on Connor but it didn't make him feel too good. One of the good things was that Nines didn't seem too comfortable with it either.

Connor was currently standing in the gym in the basement, facing a punching bag. He spun and kicked it, sending it flying before he reached out and caught it, putting it back in place. He sighed and rested his head against it. He'd been going at this since work ended three hours ago. Hank had long since gone home along with almost everyone except for the night shift. The night shift never used the gym so Connor didn't have to worry about anyone else in the room.

He huffed before moving back and into his stance, staring down the bag. He started with quick jabs, not putting too much force behind them, but staying quick on his feet. If he had an advantage it was his smaller size. Nines would have fewer areas to hit and he'd have to be more careful where each blow landed.

He sped up, now using his right hand for more powerful hits, dancing around the bag, ducking on occasion.

God everyone was going to be bidding on Nines. His replacement if Cyberlife had had its way. The man whose eyes were a beautiful blue, with those lips that sometimes quirked up into a smirk. The way he didn't seem to give a shit when Gavin decided to be a dick. The glances he sent Connor when that happened, playfully rolling his eyes.

The way Connor tried to not meet those eyes. The way his stomach flipped the first time he had heard Nines actually laugh. It had been so short but Connor had unconsciously saved the audio file. The way Connor wanted to know if he really did as good of hugs as he looked.

God, Connor hated his perfect hair. He hated how Nines seemed to be able to stand completely still for hours when Connor could barely sit still for ten minutes without needing to fidget with someone.

The next blows landed harder and he stopped ducking, breath coming out quickly.

Who did Nines think he was? Being too damn perfect. Why did if always have to butt in on Connor's things. He didn't need Nines being all high and mighty, solving Connor's cases when he had his own.

"Fuck!" Connor cursed, punching so hard his fist went through the bag. He stumbled and his eyes went wide. He always made sure to keep his strength in check, yet his emotions got the best of him. Nines probably never had that problem.

"I do hope you aren't planning to do that to me on our little contest." Nines' voice rang out across the gym and Connor yelped, pulling his hand out. It was covered by a thin layer of his own blue blood. He shook it out with a hiss before trying to hide it behind his back from Nines. He didn't need him to see how weak he was.

"Don't worry, I won't." He grumbled, using his ok hand to push the hair back out of his face.

Nines gave a low hum and walked over, looking at the now useless bag. "I wish we could call this nonsense off."

"What, think you're too good to fight me?" Connor snapped, crossing his arms with a slight grimace from the pain. He'd need to grab a bottle of thirium so his self-repair would kick in again. He hadn't even meant to turn that off.

"No, I'd simply prefer to not hurt you." Nine's words had him scoffing and shaking his head.

"Oh, that's rich."

"Rich?"

"Ugh, nothing." He waved him off and reached up to unhook the bag but was just a tad too short. He squinted up at it before looking around for something small to step up one.

"Here, allow me." Nines said and easily reached the distance, getting it down onto the ground and against the wall to take out later. "Would you like me to get you another one? Perhaps one that's heavier if you plan on using extra strength."

Connor pulled at his hair, glaring at Nines. "I don't need your help! You know, you're not so perfect." Connor pointed at Nines. "I was here first, you can't just fucking replace me!" God, he hated how similar he sounded to Gavin. But it did open his eyes to what Gavin had gone through, how frustrating and scary it could hem

"I do not plan on replacing you, and I know I'm far from perfect. That is why I've been trying to learn from you." It almost sounded like a question and Connor thought he saw the embarrassment and even insecurity.

"Learning from me?! All you've done is try to butt in and solve cases, picking up things I've doubted or just doing fucking everything! I don't need help, Nines." It felt so good to finally say it, better than punching the bag had been.

Nines took a step back, hurt flashing across his face before it became neutral again. "I apologize for what I had come across as. I simply… I wanted to learn from you and even impress you." The last part was mumbled and Nines couldn't meet his eyes.

Connor couldn't even process what he had said for a few seconds. Why would Nines want to impress him? Connor wasn't anything special, especially not in comparison to Nines. The only one who truly tried to impress him was Sumo and on incredibly rare occasions, Hank. "Wait, why?"

Nines seemed to stall for a second before reaching out and pulling Connor's wrist from behind his back. Connor winced at the sight more than the pain as Nines looked his hand over. The skin on his knuckles had receded and small little cuts drew the blood out of him.

Nines gently brushed his thumb over Connor's knuckles, holding his hand so gently. It sent a shiver up his spine as he stared at his hand. Why was Nines doing this? Why was he being so gentle and careful? Why was he even holding Connor's hand in the first place?!

"Nines?" Connor whispered, looking up at him. He worried that if he talked too loud whatever this was would stop. And for some reason, Connor didn't want Nines to stop holding his hand.

"You need thirium." Nines mumbled, still focused on Connor's knuckles. His hands were bigger than Connor's and easily held his like they were meant to hold him.

"I know." He wiggled his fingers just slightly and Nines ran his own fingers over Connor's. He was so tender with him like he would break if he put too much pressure. "Nines, why do you want to impress me?"

Nines finally looked up from their hands to meet Connor's eyes. Connor noticed a very slight blue tint to his face and he wanted to reach up and touch, see how warm his skin would be.

Nines used one of his hands to reach up and carefully brush a hair back away from Connor's face. "Because you're you. I wanted your attention but you seemed to hate me, so I thought I could help. I wanted you to talk to me."

Connor's breath caught, eyes wide. Nines had wanted Connor's attention? But why? That still didn't make sense. Why would Nines even want to be near him, let alone talk to him?

"Spar with me." He blurted out before cringing at himself. "If you want. I'm just, I'm not always good with words." Plus he had far too much energy and needed to get it out before he could properly think with Nines so close.

Nines nodded before frowning. "I'll have to wrap your hand first, wait right here."

Nines moved confidently across the room to the first aid kits. Connor stood there shocked, his hands shaking gently. This was happening? Nines cared about him. He hadn't meant to be a dick.

He jolted when he felt Nines take his hand again, spraying a cleaner onto his knuckles and carefully rubbed his knuckles before starting to wrap his hand.

He did it quickly and efficiently before stepping back and letting the hand go. "How does that feel?" Nines asked.

Connor flexed his hand before nodding. "It feels good, thank you Nines."

Nines nodded and led them over to the extra padded area where anyone could spar. Nines hadn't taken off his jacket or shoes, so Connor kept his own on as he stepped up.

They watched each other before Nines came at Connor. He quickly moved out of the way, trying to grab at Nines's outstretched arm to no avail.

Suddenly his fist was slamming into Nines's face while he one sunk into Connor's stomach. They stumbled apart for a brief second to catch their breaths before diving back at each other, eyes narrowed in determination.

Connor dodged his fist and came up with his own; for a brief instant, Nines's blue eyes widened before he managed to tilt his head back and slam it into mine. Stars burst into Connor's vision but he shook it off, blinding throwing a kick.

Nines stepped back, easily evading the kick. "Is that all you got?" Nines taunted, smirking. Connor growled and threw himself at Nines, changing direction at the last minute. He dropped and swept his leg, huffing when Nines jumped over.

He expected it, anticipated it, and in the moments after landing, he let his body relax but let out an oof as Nines managed to cause Connor to fall.

Nines went to grab Connor's legs but he twisted in the hold and kneed him in the stomach. The large android fell forward onto Connor but caught himself before he could squish him.

Connor squinted up at him, moving them to try and throw Nines off but with little success. The mats edges dug into him and he gave a devilish smile. He found the edge and pushed hard enough to get the mat to slide. It was enough of a distraction to allow him to flip them and straddle Nines.

"Hah!" Connor grinned, grabbing Nines's wrist and pinning his hands above his head. Nines squinted at him and shifted just enough to get the right angle and rolled them.

Connor's breath left him again as Nines pushed him down onto the mat, using his extra body weight to keep him down. Connor tried to wiggle out of the hold, but it only caused him to whine sharply.

His eyes widened at his own reaction, but Nines kept him pinned. "Do you yield?" He asked, staring him down. Connor wrapped his legs around Nines in a last attempt to push him forward to make him lose balance but it didn't work. Instead, it only caused their bodies to slide against each other.

They both froze at that but neither said anything, just staring at each other. Connor was sure his entire face was flushed blue.

"Do you yield?" Nines asked again, their faces only an inch apart. Connor watched as Nines's eyes flicked down to his lips then back up to his eyes. Connor licked his lips and his back arched just slightly, trying to get closer.

"Make me." He whispered. Nines growled and leaned forward, crushing their lips together. Connor moaned and pushed up against Nines, trying to pull him down with his legs still wrapped around him.

God his lips really were perfect and felt so good against his own. Nines's lips were hot against Connor's, his tongue burning a warm, wet path into his mouth. Eager hands fumbled at Nines's clothing, undoing his fly, waiting for the ok. He gets it by a low groan and Connor slips his hand in.

He runs his hands up and down, teasing Nines through his underwear, probably the same Cyberlife issued boxers. Nines groans and rolls his hips down.

His hands travel down Connor's body before pushing his shirt up and sliding his hands under, finding every sensitive spot.

"Ah, Nines!" Connor gasped, back arching off the mat. Nines hums and trails hot kisses down Connor's throat, hands moving away to drag the jacket off Connor then quickly unbutton Connor's shirt.

Shit, why hadn't they done this before? Nines and Connor slid perfectly together, and Connor would barely stand it. "More. Nines, fuck, more."

Connor yelped when Nines stood up, easily picking him up before pushing him against the wall. He used only one arm to keep him up while the other unzipped Connor.

Connor wiggled and let his pants fall to the floor before wrapping his legs around Nines again. It was completely unfair how easily Nines held him up like he weighed nothing. Yet it was one of the hottest things he'd seen.

Nines went back to attack Connor's neck, grinding against him. Connor could feel the cold press of the zipper but he focused on the large cock underneath it. God damn, even his dick was bigger than Connor's.

"Ah! Yes!" Connor's eyes squeezed shut, his hips rolling in time, trying to get as much friction as possible. "Yes!"

"Connor, what do you want? How far do you want this to go?" Nines asked, pulling back so they could look at each other.

"I want you to fuck me. Don't even dare think about holding back, I can take it all." He could and gladly would.

Nines nodded and all but tossed Connor back onto the mat, pulling his clothes off and folding them. Connor groaned at the wait but it was oddly adorable and charming. Not to mention how turned on he was at the roughness.

He reached down and pulled himself out of his boxers, slowly pumping his hand. "Mmh! Fuck!" He moaned, not having done anything like this in a while. He'd been too focused on Nines and the stupid fucking bet.

He squeezed his eyes closed, knees bent and his toes digging into the mat. Then he felt a strong warm hand wrap around the base and squeeze just enough to leave him gasping from a mixture of pain and pleasure.

His eyes snapped open and saw Nines glowering down at him. He was just so big and Connor could see his muscles rippling as he positioned himself over Connor. "Did I tell you you could touch yourself?"

"You were taking too damn long!" Connor pouted, trying to buck into the hands. Nines squeezed slightly tighter and Connor yelped.

"The answer to the question was no, no I did not. If you want me to fuck your tight little ass then you'll follow my directions or get punished. Do you understand?" Nines reached up and grabbed a fistful of hair, tugging sharply.

Connor whimpered and nodded. "Yes! Yes, please, I understand. I'll be good." He'd be so good for him.

Nines roughly let go of Connor's hair, letting his head fall back into the mat before loosening the pressure and slowly dragging his hand up. "There's a good boy." Connor squeezed his eyes closed and tried to keep still, but it was so much. "Oh, you like that? I thought you would."

Connor nodded his head again and let out a surprised squeak when two fingers were roughly pushed into him. Even now he could feel Nines holding back, not using his full strength.

"I've thought about how I'd fuck you. I was worried I'd be too rough, too strong, but you like it. You want to be thrown around and shown your place, hmm? Fuck you so hard you can't stand. No one else can do that, only me." It was so true, he knew that Nines could fuck him harder and faster than anyone else. He'd be able to feel this for weeks.

"Only you. Please Nines, please." He begged and would get on his knee to beg too if he had to. He practically drilled when Nines freed himself from his boxers, adding in another finger.

Connor had a flash of panic, not sure he could even take that much, but he sure as hell would try. Later he could also try sucking on him, letting Nines fuck his throat too. "Oh shit."

Nines smirked and without warning added a fourth finger, stretching quickly before pulling all his fingers out. "You still want this?"

Connor nodded and thankfully held back the yelp when Nines flipped him over and slid himself all the way in with one fluid movement. Connor silently screamed before his head dropped to his chest.

Nines held him by the hips, fingers digging in enough that the skin had to pull away there to reveal his chassis. Connor could barely even think so he was immensely glad when Nines did all the work. Pulling out before snapping his hips forward and using his hold in Connor's hips to drag him back.

Each thrust had Connor gasping and his hands and legs trembling. He rambled words he didn't even understand but Nines just kept going, fucking him deeper and harder just like he promised.

"I'm gonna fuck you like this until you come, then I'm going to keep fucking you again and again. You'll never be able to imagine anyone but me in you." Nines snapped his hips forward and Connor moaned, his toes curling.

Nines reached down and took Connor in hand, pumping in time with his quick harsh thrusts. "Just like that, baby. Feel so damn good."

Connor bit his lip, hands trying to find something to grab onto. But his head was yanked back as Nines held his hair, and Connor couldn't hold back anymore.

He tried to warn Nines but he was already spilling over the mat with a silent scream. The gym may be in the basement but it wasn't completely soundproof, and Connor was not going to be caught.

Nines pulled him up and spun him around before pulling Connor back down, only now he was sitting in his lap facing Nines.

"Damn, maybe I can win at the fight if you come this fast." Nines captured Connor's lips in his before Connor could make a snarky comeback.

He felt tears start streaming down his face at the overstimulation, but Nines didn't stop until he'd come two more times, and only then did Nines let himself come, holding Connor by his hips.

Connor knew he'd be sore not just from the sex but also all the times Nines had thrown him around into a new position. Nines had to carry him to a seat and then handed him a bottle of thirium as he looked him over.

"You ok, Connor? Was I too rough?" He asked, making sure he drank the whole bottle first, hands massaging his thighs.

Connor nodded and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He felt so content and exhausted in the best way. "You were amazing, but do you know what this means?"

Nines tilted his head then softly shook it, reaching up to gently soothe his hair. "No?"

"I know how to beat you in our fight." Connor grinned so widely and broke out into giggles as Nines all but pounced on him, tickling his sides.

Neither left the gym until the very early morning but they held hands and Connor promised to see him soon with a kiss.

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rjhpandapaws · 4 years ago

Text

A Hand in the Matter

Ch8: Make a Home Here

Richard would eventually learn that when seeking help he should probably ask Connor rather than Silas, and he shouldn't ask them both. It was a mistake he probably wouldn't make again given how it went this time.

The Family Feud

UnluckyNine: I need help. I think I made a mistake.

UnluckyNine: I don't think I'm ready to have someone in my apartment for two days.

UnluckyNine: I know its only Gavin, but this is kind of a big deal.

Sixty-Second-Set: Its still a couple days away right? Just cancel last minute, that's what I would do.

Sixty-Second-Set: Wait. Who is Gavin?

Sixty-Second-Set: Why is he staying with you for two days!

Sixty-Second-Set: Where did you meet him? Have you seen him before? Is his name actually Gavin?

Sixty-Second-Set: Do you have proof he's real? Are you sure he's not a serial killer?

RunawayArkait: Silas, stop. Gavin is a friend of Richard's from school.

RunawayArkait: He's staying the weekend because he is helping Richard renovate his apartment.

RunawayArkait: They met at the cafe. Yes his name is Gavin, and they go to school together so obviously they've seen each other.

RunawayArkait: He's not a serial killer Silas. He isn't smart enough.

RunawayArkait: Anyway Richard, you want to do this right? It would be best to just get it over with. Because if you don't do it this weekend, it will just be hanging over your head for whenever you reschedule it.

Sixty-Second-Set: Solution! If he isn't there at a decent time, don't let him in.

RunawayArkait: As someone who was an hour late to their own birth, I don't think you should be the one to give time based ultimatums.

Sixty-Second-Set: Fuck off, Connor. You were an hour early.

UnluckyNine: Thanks for the help. I'll just see how I'm feeling on Friday

RunawayArkait: It'll be fine Nines, you'll see.

Sixty-Second-Set: Call Connor if you need back up.

Sixty-Second-Set: He can call Nora, or whatever her name is, and she can come kick his ass.

RunawayArkait: Her name is North, and he won't need to because its going to be fine.

UnluckyNine: Thanks for the advice

Sixty-Second-Set: Of course! That's what big brothers are for.

RunawayArkait: Its gonna be fine. I promise

The rest of his week was spent getting ready for Gavin to come over. Cleaning. Making sure he had sheets and a blanket big enough for the pull out bed. Cleaning the pull out bed. He went grocery shopping and bought snacks and junk food like what he had seen at Gavin's apartment. Almost texted Gavin on several occasions to cancel, and then deleted them. After the longest and most stressful week in recent history, it was finally Friday. There would be no backing out last minute, he wasn't Silas. On top of that, he was actually looking forward to seeing Gavin. As if on cue his phone lit up with a message from the man in mention.

Gavin Reed: Getting ready to head your way. Need me to pick anything up on my way over?

Me: No. Not that I can think of.

Gavin Reed: Alright, see you soon.

Richard set his phone on the kitchen island and gave his apartment another once over. Making sure everything was where it was supposed to be, that his apartment was presentable. Richard himself was dressed in a more relaxed way than usual. He had on blue sweatpants from Silas, that said University of Idaho Theater Fest down the left leg, and an oversized blank white hoodie. He didn't want Gavin to give him a hard time for going over dressed at home a second time. His phone vibrated against the counter top.

Gavin Reed: On my way up to you.

Me: Ok. The door is unlocked.

He put his phone back down on the island and made his way over to the door and unlocked it. He glanced at the shoe rack by the door. A small grey thing. The impulse purchase that had started all of this. He smiled and headed back to the kitchen.

Normally he would be waiting in the living room, but that was going to be Gavin's space for the weekend. He leaned against the counter until his nervous energy became too much to handle. He opened the fridge and dug through it, looking for the bottles of soda he had bought. He heard Gavin come in, followed by the sound of his shoes hitting the shoe rack. He looked up when Gavin spoke.

"Where do you want this?" He asked gesturing to the bag on his shoulder, an excited smile curling at his lips.

Richard straightened up and pointed at the couch since that was where they decided Gavin would be spending the weekend. With that taken care of, Richard grabbed the two bottles of old fashioned soda and set them on the island. He turned to grab the bottle opener since he didn't know if they were twist tops or not. He slid a bottle over to Gavin when he came back to the kitchen.

"Thanks." Gavin said as he took the bottle, "I got you something, a bit of a house warming gift."

Gavin's other hand came up and he placed a hastily wrapped box on the counter. He slid it over to Richard like it would have bit him if he didn't. Richard opened it carefully, not wanting to tear the paper. The box didn't have a label or anything that would hint as to what was inside, and Richard didn't want to shake it in case it was something fragile. He set the box down on the counter and carefully opened the top. He took out a white mug. Richard turned it over in his hands to see if it had a design on it. He found 'Silence is Golden' written in pretty light blue font. He set the mug down so he could sign and felt a smile tugging at his lips.

'Thank You.' He signed, 'I Love It.'

"I'm glad," Gavin said with a smile of his own, "I saw it in the campus bookstore and thought you might like it."

Richard took a drink from his bottle, trying to ignore the clutter on the counter. Gavin had gotten him something, saw it and thought Richard would like it. Connor and Silas were really the only other people who did that.

"What's the plan for tonight?" Gavin's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He was heading for the living room, "Online shopping, actual shopping, relaxing, or starting on changing around the place."

Richard came to sit beside him on the couch, leaning into the back rest some. Gavin, on the other hand looked like he had melted into it, he looked relaxed and comfortable. A contrast to the tensness that was still clinging to Richard, he was trying his best to relax. His fingers were tapping against the bottle in a rapid staccato pattern. He didn't really want to do anything tonight. If he was honest, he didn't want to do any of this, but Gavin was already here and it was too late to back out. He figured they could just hang out for tonight and worry about the apartment tomorrow.

He finally set the bottle down since he had come to a decision. Richard tried explaining this to Gavin, but he couldn't find signs that conveyed what he meant that were also signs that Gavin knew, and he didn't want to fingerspell everything. He let his frustration out as a sigh. Gavin was picking up ASL quickly, and Richard was proud of him, it was just that he was feeling more than what child-sign could express. So it was only natural that his texts didn't even scratch the surface either.

Me: Could we stay in tonight? Relax and maybe look at things online?

Me: I don't think I'm ready to do much else yet.

"That's perfectly fine," Gavin said as he turned on the tv, flipping to some cartoon he liked listening to, "We'll only do what you're comfortable with."

That was how their afternoon went. Gavin told Richard about his week as he looked at stuff online. Writing down a list of things he wanted to buy and the stores the website said he could find them at. It was comforting to come up with a plan for the weekend so it didn't feel so much like he was going into this blind.

Hours passed and they were just talking. Gavin was talking and Richard was texting his responses. It was a normal evening for them, up until Gavin's stomach growled loudly interrupting the story Gavin had been telling.

'Food?' Richard signed, not bothering to hide the amusement. He was feeling a little hungry himself.

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea," Gavin said, a laugh hanging onto his words as he covered his stomach, "You in the mood to cook or is it a take out kind of night?"

Definitely a take out kind of night. Richard couldn't cook to save his life and he wasn't about to expose Gavin to that. He pulled up the app and tapped on his usual Italian place and picked the same thing he always got before handing the phone off to Gavin. He took his time picking before handing the phone back. Richard placed the order and Gavin went back to his story.

The conversation fell away when the food arrived. The two of them falling into a familiar and content silence. They relaxed like that for a time, eventually passing notes. Gavin in the mood to talk, but not in the mood to speak. It was nice, and they stayed like that for hours. Enjoying each other's company until Gavin yawned bad enough that it sounded like something in his jaw broke.

"So how are we doing this Nines?" Gavin asked, rubbing at his face and muffling his words.

'You Take Couch.' He signed slow and clear since Gavin was tired, 'I Take Bed.'

With that established Richard began packing up the remaining food and putting it away. Leaving Gavin to handle the garbage. It reminded him of when he spent the evenings at Gavin's. Getting the pull out bed set up didn't take long and he let Gavin get ready for bed first since he looked like he was going to fall asleep if he stayed in one place for too long. It was new, but not unsettling to have someone else here, but he supposed it was because he was used to being around Gavin.

He took his turn getting ready for bed, and once he was done for the night, he checked in with Silas like he promised he would.

Me: I'm not dead.

Silas: Did he do anything weird.

Me: No.

Me: He bought a coffee mug as a house warming gift which was nice

Silas: You're alright then?

Me: I promise.

Me: I'm going to bed now.

Silas: Sleep well.

When morning rolled around Richard got ready for the day, a grey turtle neck paired with dark jeans, and made his way to the kitchen as quietly as he could. Being mindful of Gavin, who was still passed out on the couch. He got the coffee grounds out and into the machine before he heard signs of life from the living room. Gavin came into the kitchen as though summoned by the spluttering of the coffee machine.

"Good morning Richard," Gavin managed through his yawn, his sea green eyes barely showing signs of life. "How did you sleep?"

'Good Morning.' Richard signed back with a smile, 'I Slept Fine.'

The kitchen fell silent after that. Gavin was leaning against the counter, in the small corner made by it and the fridge. His eyes were open and he was looking around, but it didn't seem like he was seeing anything. Richard hadn't gotten to witness pre-coffee Gavin before, and now he understood why Gavin's texts this time of day were only one word. It was kind of endearing to see a new side of Gavin.

Richard grabbed mugs as the coffee finished, a plain one for Gavin, as well as the one Gavin had bought him. He poured Gavin's first, leaving room for the abysmal amount of cream he felt the need to add to his coffee, and pointed the semi-alert male in the direction of the fridge. He poured his own next, then returned the pot to the machine.

"That's some good coffee," Gavin joked tiredly when he caught Richard looking at him.

'You Monster,' Richard signed back with his free hand and pulling a face to make his point.

Silence settled over the kitchen again, though this time it was content rather than exhausted. Richard was absently staring out the window, going over the plan for the weekend in his head. Today they were shopping, picking up the things Richard had decided on last night. He liked them and hoped they would make his apartment feel less like a hospital room.

Gavin got ready quickly after he finished his coffee and met Richard at the door when he was ready to leave. They were taking Richard's car because Gavin had brought his bike over. He was glad to have Gavin with him since he'd never done any important shopping like this before. What he had now was a collection of things that used to belong to Connor and Silas that had sat in storage when they had moved. The things they were getting today would be Richard's and would finally make the apartment feel like it was his.

Richard had made a list of stores along with what he hoped to find at each one last night. When they arrived at the first store he found a place to park that was relatively close.

'Ready?' He signed at Gavin as he got unbuckled.

"Yeah." Came Gavin's reply as he got out.

Richard joined them and they made their way inside. The store was big and had an open floor plan with furniture on one side and decorations on the other. He made his way through the store picking things out that were on his list, crossing them off as well as other stores as he got them. He also picked up a few novelty things that caught his eye, including a present for Gavin. It was a mug that said 'cunt' in black print with the letter 'c' making up the handle. He figured Gavin would get a kick out of it given his sense of humor.

The other stops went similarly. Richard getting things off his list as well as a few other things that caught his eye. Some of them for Gavin when he did well on signing or passed his Psychology tests. None of the places they went had the shelves he wanted for his room. One place had some that were similar, and he bought them for his office. They were going to try one last place before giving up and ordering them online.

The store his phone directed them to was massive. The website said they at least sold the shelves he was looking for, but didn't say if they had any in stock. Looking couldn't hurt.

He and Gavin wandered the store. Following the signs in hopes of finding the shelves. They were stopped in an aisle trying to get their bearings. Richard didn't think they were going to find the shelves here. He was going to say as much to Gavin, but he saw a girl in the store's uniform coming toward them. Maybe she could help.

She spoke to them as she approached, "Can I help you and your..." her eyes moved from Richard to Gavin and then back as she chose her words, "partner find anything specific."

Richard froze. His partner? She meant Gavin, he knew that much, but it wasn't like that. They weren't like that. It wasn't like that. Richard tried telling her that but his signs wouldn't cooperate. He turned to Gavin, silently begging for help because he didn't know how to get out of this situation.

"Oh, uh. No. We're alright, thanks." Gavin sounded just as embarrassed as Richard felt, he hadn't explained that they weren't together, but his words had gotten the sales clerk to leave them be, which was just as good.

They stared at one another for a long while, the silence between them wasn't awkward, but there was something hanging in it. Gavin broke into a smile and then broke down into uncontrollable laughter. It got to the point that he was nearly doubled over. Richard's own anxiety was beginning to subside and he couldn't help but smile at Gavin, the other's delight rubbing off on him. They didn't find the shelves, but that was fine.

"Let's head back," Gavin said when he finally had control over his breathing. "We can pick up some food on the way back. Then order the shelves when we get back to your place."

Richard found himself hyper aware of how close he was to Gavin the rest of the night. Keeping a friendly distance between them and decided he could give him the mug another time. He didn't want to give Gavin the wrong impression.

They continued talking about it, Richard taking delight in Gavin's awkwardness. They exchanged pleasant stories and memories well into the evening. The late night hours became early morning and when they were both sagging into the pull out bed, Richard decided it was time to get some sleep.

'Okay,' Richard signed as he stood with a yawn, 'Bed Time.'

He let Gavin use the bathroom first again. When Richard was done for the night he climbed into bed and messaged Silas.

Me: Today was interesting

Silas: What did Garrett do?

Me: Gavin.

Me: He didn't do anything, but a worker at a furniture mistook us for a couple.

Silas: You said he wasn't doing anything!

Me: He wasn't. We were just kind of close

Silas: Why?

Me: We were lost.

Me: Anyway, its late so I'm going to sleep.

Silas: Be safe

Me: Always

Richard woke up at his usual time, the late night not quite beating natural habit. Like yesterday, Richard went about making coffee as quietly as possible. Since they were staying at the apartment he was back in comfortable clothes. The same blue sweatpants as before and a loose black t-shirt with an old style cat emoji on it. Just like the day before, the smell off coffee brought a barely coherent Gavin into the kitchen.

"Morning." Gavin muttered, sounding like he would much rather be asleep. "Today's the day. Are you excited?"

'Morning.' Richard signed back, choosing to answer Gavin's question with a nod. He didn't look awake enough for more signing.

When the coffee finished he poured Gavin's first sliding it over to him so he could get around to actually waking up. Richard poured his own next, holding it in his hands to soak up the warmth. He found himself watching Gavin, and rolled his eyes when the other all but moaned into his coffee. Understanding the sentiment, Richard lifted his own mug in a mock salute.

"Look. One of us can't function before eleven in the morning." He complained, hiding a yawn behind his mug before he took another drink, "Its not my fault you can't wake up at a normal time."

'Waking Up Afternoon Not Normal,' he replied dryly, winking at Gavin in place of a smile. Richard found morning's to be the most peaceful time of day and he liked them the best.

"Richard." He groaned gesturing to the window with his free hand, "Its the weekend. Its practically against the law to wake up early on the weekend."

'Yet Here You Are.' Richard felt himself smiling as he signed, 'Awake Early Sunday Morning.'

Gavin rolled his eyes and gave a genuine but tired laugh, "Okay, no need to be so damn smug. You've made your point."

'Have I?' Richard asked with the quirk of a brow.

This earned him getting flipped off by Gavin. He rolled his eyes again and hid a broad smile behind his mug. Gavin finished his coffee first and cleaned his mug out in the sink, setting it aside when he was done.

"Alright, I'm going to start by cleaning up my shit from the living room," he gestured in the vague direction of the couch, but Richard got the idea. "Then where do you want me?"

'My Room.' Richard signed before finishing off the rest of his coffee and cleaning out the mug.

Richard went to his room with every intention of redecorating but caught sight of his open closet doors. Part of making this apartment his was getting rid of those. He walked back out of his room to the hall closet, he opened the door and dug around until he found his tool kit. Richard took it back to his room and got started on the doors. He was working on the one farthest from the bedroom door. He got the top hinge detached without a problem. With that out of the way, he sat down and got to work on the bottom hinge. He heard Gavin knock on the doorframe before he spoke.

"What," Gavin started from behind him, sounding genuinely confused, "are you doing?"

Richard, personally, thought what he was doing was rather obvious. He was taking his closet doors off their frame. He gestured to the door as a way to get his point across and got back to work.

"Okay," Gavin continued, sounding just as confused as before, "and you're taking the door off its hinges because why exactly?"

Richard took a deep breath, letting it put as a frustrated sigh. After making sure the door wasn't going to fall if he left it unattended, he turned to face Gavin.

'I Do Not Like Noise They Make. Help Me.' He emphasized the last two signs by pointing at Gavin, then at the door that was still standing.

"You have a plan of what you're gonna do once they're off?" He asked as he walked over and leaned against the frame of the closet.

'No.' He stopped for a moment, wondering if they could fit in his car, deciding they couldn't he moved on, 'Do Not Want Them Here.'

"We'll figure it out I guess," came Gavin's response as he stood upright again, he eyed the door before he looked back at Richard, "you got anything to make this easier or are we just gonna brute force it?"

As much as Richard would have loved to see that, he didn't think the complex owners wouldn't like it too much if they couldn't replace the doors. He reached behind himself for the screwdriver he had been using and handed it to Gavin.

They worked in silence after that. Getting thr doors off and finding a place for them took longer than Richard thought it would. They settled for sticking them in the back of the bathroom closet, he found the irony of that a little amusing. The shelves for his room wouldn't be coming in for another ten days, but everything else could be set up today.

He took his time in his room, reorganizing things as he got it put together. Richard enjoyed himself as he redecorated his room, relaxing as the space came to look more lived in. His room came to have a blue and grey color scheme that he found calming and visually appealing. He took a picture of the finished product to send to Silas and Connor, making sure Gavin wasn't in the shot. Silas would lose it if he saw him in Richard's room, he would get the wrong idea.

The office came next, and setting up the shelves took the longest. Organizing them was easy though. The one to the right of the door as you came in was for books and paper work, the one to the left came to hold office supplies, a ship in a bottle, and a Lucky Cat statue from Gavin. Like with his bedroom, Richard took a picture to send to his brothers once Gavin had left.

Richard worked on the bathroom next, which didn't take him long. It was just changing the shower curtains and putting up different towels. The shower curtain was a blown up picture of the beach. Another picture that was sent to his brothers.

The last room left to do was the living room. Richard left it as the last room so Gavin had time to get all of his stuff together. He started with the media stand, placing ocean themed glass globes on either side of the tv, and light blue fairy lights along the front of the shelf. He placed two grey costers in shade order from lightest to darkest on each corner of the coffee table and a line of three white-blue electric candles along the center of it.

The couch was the last thing left to be decorated. Richard went back to his room to grab the bags of throw pillows. When he came back he couldn't find Gavin. Assuming he was in the bathroom, Richard started on the couch. He was smacked on the back with something soft, and turned to find Gavin triumphantly holding a pillow with "fuck off" stitched into it with light purple thread. He smacked Richard again, this time in the chest. It was on now.

Richard took a pillow off the couch and grinned at Gavin who seemed to realize he was a little out of his depth. He threw the pillow at Gavin causing him to back up, it hit him in the chest anyway. He ducked under the next one and threw his pillow at Richard. He caught it effectively disarming Gavin.

He backed Gavin into the wall with a barrage of pillows and was poised to throw the "fuck off" pillow when Gavin finally called his surrender.

"Okay! Okay!" He managed between bouts of laughter, "I'm sorry for smacking you with that pillow. Even if you deserved it."

Richard still threw the pillow, hitting Gavin lightly in the shoulder. They got to work setting up the pillows at each armrest, some along the back. Gavin placing the "fuck off" pillow in the center so it could easily be seen. When he moved away from the couch, Richard took a picture of the living room, making sure Gavin was in the shot this time, and sending it to his brothers.

"There its perfect." Gavin said, turning to face Richard with a smile as he put his phone away, "home sweet home."

Richard returned the smile, something light and warm making its home in his chest as he looked at Gavin, 'Home Sweet Home.'

For the first time, it felt true. This apartment was finally a home, a place where he could simply be, rather than be confined to. It was a new feeling and he liked it. Richard hoped one day he had the right words to thank Gavin for this.

#A Hand in the Matter #dbh #d:bh #d:bh reed900 #dbh reed900 #reed900 #d:bh gavin #dbh gavin #gavin reed #dbh rk900 #rk900 #nonverbal nines

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that-random-chaos-entity · 4 years ago

Text

Nehetari stood opposite this... ..."wolfish" human, regarding him and his extended hand. Then she grasped it firmly. In an old life, the grip in that hand could have crushed her arm like the thresher beetles used to crush the reeds along the Great Oasis. But so could Perturabo's, so she did not feel uneasy. If she even WOULD have felt uneasy.

But when she looked up to meet his gaze, his expression could not have been more different from the Iron titan that she had grown so close to. This "Leman Russ's" face was alight with the fire of excitement. Excitement, and they joy of one who feels they have found a true kindred spirit in the most unlikely of places.

"My history has earned respect from you." Nehetari stated. An observation, quivering on the edge of a question.

"'Tis only a REAL king who will down a keg and throw hands with their people, then be willin teh lead 'em inta battle from the front next day."

"One would think that a necessity for leading any group of individuals effectively."

"Ye'd be surprised. It's not a real common thing in the galaxy nowadays," the wolf-human mused. Then his expression turned serious, and the Mehlrose felt the twinge of psychic scrutiny brush along her psyche. Light as a feather, or more like the long hairs on the hide of some animal.

"If yer willin teh dance on a table drunk with every man, woman, and child, whether it be in a banquet or a roadside tavern, walk through teh maw of Morkai himself, an ice storm or one of yer rough lookin' deserts, to save an old, hobbled raisin of yer people, just because he's yer people... ...If these tales be true, if yer people's planet was as ye say, if ye have truly suffered as much as ye say, yet yeh can still feel such joy; such FIRE as I see in your eyes... ...well, I must admit, I respect teh cut of yer claws, xenos."

The cut of her... ...Nehetari removed her hand from the clasped-arm-goodwill-gesture and examined her claws carefully for a moment; an action that caused the large, furry beast of a human to let out a deep belly laugh, and turned Perturabo's obviously jealous glare into a eye-roll so intense it looked as if his eyes might abandon his skull entirely.

An outpouring of noise drew all eyes back to the black crystal's display. Two Necrontyr now stood atop the sandstone-like platform; their identical forms and features making it seem as if one was dancing with a full-body mirror. They swirled and stamped and belted out songs in Necrontyr, punctuated every once in a while by a swig from one of the great brown gourd-like containers at their sides. Rhythmic cheers enhanced their steps and arm movements, and Nehetari herself could be seen, looking about the same in the vid as she looked now, clapping in rhythm. She daintily kept time with her hands and was SMILING. Laughing even, when one of the two twin warriors accidentally planted his foot into her plate of food and slipped, narrowly missing landing on her as he tumbled. There was a DEAFENING silence, before the thin bell of her laughter caused a ripple of mirth to hesitantly start, then sweep the hall like a gale. The dancing continued, and more feet began to strike the ground as the drink took hold, and others joined in.

However, before too long, a series of other sounds could be heard; rhythmic metal taps exactly in time to the music, but they did not seem to be coming from the display. They turned to see two of her guard doing the same dance. Metal though they were, corrupted by the flayer virus though they were, their build and features were unmistakable. They were a perfect copy of eachother, and both Leman and Perturabo knew at once that, at one time, these were the same two displayed from the crystal.

"So then those are Kefi and Sefi?" Perturabo said, gesturing to the two fools in the vid, apologizing profusely and near falling over, so hard were trying to get some sort of mashed root vegetable off the one's bare feet. "THAT'S what they used to look like?"

"Kefi and Sefi, is it?" Leman moved from Nehetari's right flank to approach the still-dancing necrons. They detected his advent and stopped, giving a hiss of alarm and diving, but too late as the massive human swept them up into a headlock, laughing. "Aw, C'MON ye boney lot! I like yer style! I'd almost say I'd like to share a drink with ye, if yeh could still drink. It's good to see at least some xenos know how teh have some REAL fun!"

Perturabo was too beside himself to feel irritated at his brother's antics, or relieved that he was no longer holding onto Nehetari's shoulder. Leman. His brother LEMAN, was playing around with two NECRONS. FLAYED ONES no less. Was he that lonely without his sons? Desperate enough to pal around with xenos, just because they reminded him of his space wolves? With some amusement he watched as the two necrons squealed and scrabbled to get away, then seemingly became bemused and looked to Nehetari for approval; like baby animals to their mother.

Nehetari's face was neutral, but her eyes sparkled. She inclined her head in a silent, "Well go on then."

Two metallic heads turned to look at their assailant. And as one, they both spoke. It was in the most GRAVELLY of Necrontyr and thick with the flayer curse, but their translator scarabs intoned:

"Do you enjoy pharos scorpion honey mead?"

The Wolf King laughed so loud it rattled their carapaces.

"Well I don't know what 'pharos scorpion honey,' is, but I know mead and I LOVE IT!" He boomed, and just like that the tension was broken. They began to jabber at eachother about various drinks, about festivals and adventures of grandeur, and foods of exotic and mouth-watering nature.

Nehetari took the opportunity to slink over to where Perturabo stood. She did not speak; she knew he was upset with her, so she stood close and waited for him to give her a piece of his mind.

She did not wait long.

"I thought I told you to stay away from Russ.," he snarled.

Nehetari did not miss a beat. "You did. And I ignored you."

Perturabo whirled on her. "WHY!?"

"Because I must make my own conclusions."

"Tch! Of course, that's right. What I think be damned, you just can't stop yourself from making friends with everyone you can, can't you? Even when they've tormented me for most of my life."

"What better way to stop them tormenting you than to earn their respect, then use that respect to stop their abuse?"

Perturabo snorted. "Oh, is that your plan is it? What, do you think you're going to suddenly solve all my family issues by making friends with everyone?"

For a moment Perturabo thought he'd said the wrong thing, as Nehetari's neutral expression crumpled and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"No, your family is irreparable," she stated bluntly. "Also, your father disgusts me, your brother Mortarion disgusts me, your brother Alpharius confuses me, and your brother Rogal Dorn is boring. I have no desire to 'make friends' with them."

The Lord of Iron's next counter-argument died on his lips, and he couldn't help barking out a laugh.

"Fair enough I suppose. Wait, when did you meet Alpharius?"

"In the hallway. He bowed, said 'I am Alpharius,' shushed me, then vanished behind a painting."

"That's... ...concerning..." Perturabo muttered. "In any case, I don't want you getting chummy with my other brother's either. Nothing good can come of it."

Jealousy was all but dripping off that statement, but Nehetari did not comment on it. "Do not worry," she rubbed her head affectionately against his shoulder in a very cat-like manner, "I will not trade you for any of them."

"Quit it," The primarch growled, covering his face, but he did not move away. "...even Sanguinius?"

"Of course not. He smells like wet poultry. Also, despite what my father says, I'm certain he fancies him. He's certainly his 'type,' at least when it comes to-"

Perturabo's eyes flashed wide and he clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Do you want to fucking die!? You don't just say shit about Sanguinius!" But he couldn't help the faintest smile. At least he didn't have to feel jealous about ONE of his brothers.

...but still, the mental image of the Lanky Llama and Leman clasping arms made his gorge rise.

"Come, we are going back to the promethium forge," he growled with a finality that left no room for argument.

Nehetari nodded once. "As you wish." Then she followed him out of the hall.

The crystal, having been left behind in the rush, clattered to the floor, just before it was picked up by the Lord of Wolves.

#leman russ #perturabo #nehetari #space wolves #iron warriors #necrons #necrontyr princess #necrontyr #warhammer 40k #wh40k #flayed ones #oc shenanigans

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concrete-weed · 4 years ago

Text

It’s hard to be a god (Malcolm Reed x reader)

summary: Reader pretends to be a goddess. Malcolm needs a hug. trektober day 7- interspecies relationship words: 1,877

read on AO3 here

When you first heard of the new "humans" your ship encountered, you mostly thought were quite brash, going into space with a barely finished ship and all, but during the weeks you lived among them, your opinion changed for the better. Humans are very different from your own species. Much louder for sure, but you eventually grew to like them.

The human ship was wrecked, their puppy dog approach to first contact wasn’t working so well. Starfleet had allowed four aliens to serve on Enterprise until the end of her mission, helping both diplomacy and the state of the human ship. Working on Enterprise has been a treat. You have been a doctor for three years. Working with doctor Phlox has offered many learning opportunities, so your career wasn’t suffering. Your social life, on the other hand, certainly was. You talked to the people you knew from your ship, but for the most part, they were in engineering while you were slaving away in med bay.

You had a friend in a few people, Hoshi, for example. You spent many lunch breaks helping her understand your language, not an easy task by any measure, and learning a human language called English. Through her, you have met most of the bridge crew. It was peculiar to watch them all interact.

One human, in particular, caught your eye, Malcolm Reed. He was a bit quiet for a human, which fascinated you. His dark hair and light eyes seemed majestic to you. You knew that staring was considered rude by human standards, but the first time you met him it took Hoshi nudging you in the ribs to get you to tear your eyes off the mysterious human.

During your second month aboard Enterprise, captain Archer got a call from Admiral Forrest, saying that a planet 5 lightyears away is requesting immediate help with a medical crisis. All medical personnel were working day and night to find a cure, you being no exemption. For a week you were absolutely exhausted, so when captain Archer went down to your quarters to tell you were going to are on the away mission, you didn’t even register it until the debriefing.

“Okay, so this is a bit bizarre, ” God you were all so tired,” but the government insists that the locals will only accept our help if doctor L/N pretends to be their goddess of health.”

What?

“Half of the population already believes this is a gift from the gods anyway. I doubt you would need to make any change to your behavior.” Archer continued monotonously. With a civilization as evolved as theirs, he expected no interference from religion, no such luck.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said uneasily, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

“As much as I think that this is a ridiculous request to make of you doctor, I hope you will at least consider putting on this act. Malcolm and his men will be there if anything goes”.

Now you were here, standing in a long drapey light green dress. All of the away team was dressed in traditional clothing, leaving them a bit uncomfortable. The only people left in a Starfleet uniform were two security officers with phasers by their sides. Captain Archer insisted that the lieutenant needed to wear the strange clothes and respect the culture as the highest-ranking officer there. Malcolm’s clothes were similar to yours, the same shade of mint, the same writing along the edges of the garment. You unfortunately didn’t have time to think about what that meant. While doctor Phlox was teaching local doctors how to treat the deadly disease you were paraded around all the temples that were built in ‘your’ honor.

In them you saw many paintings that depicted the goddess and were eerily similar to you, almost all of them depicting the sick crying out to their goddess, hoping to be cured. The goddess was a little bit taller than you, her eyes a little more penetrating, even through the pictures, but essentially you were lead through the main room in that temple, looking at heart-wrenching scenes of yourself, saving the damned. In some, the goddess was surrounded by other deities, her most common companion a shorter man, usually carrying a small child.

Finally, you got a break. Apparently, as the tour exclaimed, divine being needed to be given food before sunset, or the mortals around them would be punished. It seemed terrible to live like this, afraid of godly wrath every second of life but since you could do nothing you just went along with her. She insisted that you should take your meals separately from your security detail, as the rest of the away party were all male. Malcolm pulled you aside from the woman.

“Are you sure this is safe? You will be alone in the dining hall.” Said Malcolm, pragmatic as always.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. If anything is suspicious, I’ll just com you okay?” You answered hoping your voice sounded optimistic. You touched Malcolm’s upper arm in an attempt to comfort him. your gaze met his. You saw love in his brilliant blue-grey eyes. Or did you? Damn your wishful thinking. You quickly turned, walking back to the tour guide, you face a mask of calm, hiding your emotional turmoil.

The meal prepared for you was delicious but you couldn’t focus much on the conversation. Thankfully, your tour guide talked enough for the both of you.

“It is so wonderful you decided to come down to us! We have been awaiting your help for months.” you swore her nasal voice was going to drive you crazy, “My Lady, are you feeling okay?” you started stuttering out your answer but the guide cut you off. “Oh, you don’t have to explain yourself. We all have marital problems!” she added playfully. Marital problems?

“Excuse me?” You hoped that your confusion won’t ruin the mission.

“My Lady, Archana? Oh, what does he go by now? Maco? Malcolm? Are you not married yet in this reincarnation?”

You remembered that during the tour the guide has mentioned that reincarnation was a major part of their mythology, still, the fact that she thought that you and Malcolm were married made your cheeks heat up. If you remembered correctly, the male deity, in this case, the god of protection, gave his life to protect his loved ones. The god will reappear in the next year, and the cycle will begin again.

“No. I’m afraid not,” you answered, trying not to choke on your drink.

“Well, I hope you find each other soon” she continued eating with a smile on her face.

The meal continued in comfortable silence, your mind racing. Marrying Malcolm sounded like a dream, even if marriage was slightly different on your planet. Hoshi encouraged you to speak to Malcolm about your feelings, but the prospect of rejection terrified you. You preferred to live in this pathetic yearning state, maybe it was time to stop dreaming and take action.

Being back on the ship felt amazing but you were certainly nervous. For some reason ever since you got back Malcolm hasn’t even looked at you. His avoidance was becoming unbearable, the very second you entered a room he all but ran out. Your emotional side screamed each time but you wished to respect his wishes so you did nothing. Over time you felt worse and worse. You started working longer and longer shifts. Hoshi and Travis were starting to be worried. Dealing with heartache is unpleasant in the best conditions but dealing with it and being homesick, stuck on board an alien ship must be a thousand times worse.

Hoshi has convinced you to come to movie night. Before you could actually enjoy whatever old human movie, Trip put on you had to figure out what you had done to Malcolm and how you can reverse it. You cherished the unclear relationship that had been built between you and if you can’t be with Malcolm, at least you can be his friend. You may suffer but you would do anything to bring Malcolm happiness. Malcolm seemed sad to you. His smile not reaching his eyes, his body a little too tense.

You just got off your shift. You felt horrible, but if you stop now you will turn back to your quarters and never confront Malcolm. The dull grey walls seemed like they were closing in on you. You heard your heart beating. Malcolm was hard enough to get to know. Letting him go is even harder.

The time you waited for his door to open felt like hours. Malcolm opened the door, hair messy from sleep. He seemed to awaken in seconds when he saw you, his eyes wide open.

“Listen, Malcolm,” your voice growing increasingly desperate, “I don’t know what I have done to offend you, humans are so confusing, but if you- “

His sarcastic chuckle caught you off guard. “You haven’t done anything. Please come in. We need to talk.”

Taking a deep breath, you walked in.

His room seemed vacant, almost militaristic. Everything was in its place. His clothes were perfectly folded and put away. What little pictures he had hanging completely straight. The room was almost shining, with no speck of dust visible. The only chair in the room was near Malcolm’s desk. You assumed he didn’t have much company over.

You stood awkwardly near the door, having no idea what you should do. You felt like an intruder in his space, your body taking up too much space. Malcolm seemed at ease. He sat down on his bed and gestured for you to sit down in the chair. He looked down, silent, thinking about his next move. God, it was a mistake to come here.

“I guess I owe you an explanation,” he stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing, “Remember when we went down to that planet? The one we helped with the plague?” you nodded slowly, “while you had to pretend to be the goddess of health, I had to be your,” he hesitated, “partner. The reincarnation of some god of protection, I believe. When we got separated some guards joined us. They didn’t think I was worthy of you, I’m afraid.” Malcolm’s voice quivered, seemingly trying to hold back the emotion currently showing. “To be honest, I agree with them.”

A tense silence fell over the room. The engine’s hum being the only noise in the room. You moved to the bed and sat at Malcolm’s side, your shoulders touching. Malcolm looked at you, at little taken aback at your sudden move.

“I thought you were angry at me. I can’t convey how relieved I am Mal.” You said, not carrying if the happiness in your voice sounded strange, “I hope you know how amazing you are. That you’re valued and loved by your friends. I can’t convince you of that right now, I know, but I also hope that you will let me stick around and prove it.” You closed the distance between your lips, your heart beating against your chest. He kissed back softly, a bit awkwardly at first. You broke away, needing to take in air. Malcolm spoke:

“Have dinner with me?”

“of course.”

#st:ent #star trek #star trek enterprise #malcolm reed #malcolm reed x reader #reader-insert #trektober2020

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ragewerthers · 5 years ago

Text

Pond Memories

Summary: Gladio talks Ignis into being a bit rebellious and joining him for a bit of skinny dipping. However, there may be more than a handsome Shield in the waters of this unassuming pond.

A/n: This is another fun prompt for my friend @bgn846!

She asked for:'Skinny dipping -- “Something just brushed up against my leg!” '

I instantly had dialogue in my head, but I'll admit that the ending was something I hadn't planned XD

Hopefully it's not too silly an something that will get a good laugh!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596553

Enjoy, my friends! :D

Word Count: 2303

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

Ignis couldn’t believe what they had decided to do. This was ridiculous, juvenile, possibly a bit unsanitary and… thrilling.

“Come on, Iggy, there’s nothin’ to worry about,” Gladio had offered only about an hour earlier as Ignis tidied up his cook station from lunch. “Prompto and Noct are out fishing and taking pictures and we still have plenty of daylight left. We’re allowed to have a little fun as well aren’t we?” As he spoke he moved to stand behind Ignis, his arms wrapping around the lithe Adviser, resting his chin on his shoulder. “It’ll add a little danger to our day!”

Ignis couldn’t help snorting at the ridiculous comment, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth and hide his smile. “Darling, our days are literally filled with danger or have you forgotten in your old ag-ah! Stahpit!” Ignis squeaked as Gladio wriggled his fingers against his sides where they rested, interrupting his teasing with a bout of hysterical giggles.

The attack didn’t last long though and Gladio couldn’t help smiling as Ignis relaxed back in his arms. “But it’s not the fun sort of danger! This is… rebellious. Don’t you ever want to be a wild man? Live life on the edge? Go against the norm?”

“I kiss you after you eat garula steak and beans… if that’s not living life on the edge I don’t know wha-ahahaht ihihihis! S-stop! I yeheheheild!” Ignis frantically apologized as those teasing fingers found his sides once more and honestly, trapped in the bearhug of his partners arms there was no way he could get free easily.

“You’re just full of piss and vinegar today, aren’t ya?” Gladio chuckled, stopping once more and pressing a few kisses against Ignis’s shoulder as the Adviser caught his breath. “Come on, Iggy. Let loose a little!”

And so that was how Ignis found himself standing on the edge of a small pond, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and wondering just how he’d become so easy to sway.

However, as he glanced over to the side and watched Gladio tossing his grey tank top over a low hanging branch and showing off every inch of his well muscled and tattooed torso the answer became abundantly clear.

It didn’t take long for Gladio to notice that he was being watched, however, and as he turned around Ignis felt his cheeks instantly heat up. Quickly he looked away, taking off his glasses and putting them on top of his shirt which he had folded and set nearby.

“Enjoying the show, Iggy?” Gladio murmured, walking closer and making Ignis feel butterflies bloom in his stomach.

“Don’t be smug. Smugness doesn’t suit you,” Ignis lied because oh how it suited the man.

Gladio’s wicked smile proved that he knew it as well and he gave a little chuckle before turning back around. “Uh huh. Your blush says different,” he teased and Ignis could feel his cheeks growing redder. “But you better hurry up before the terror twins show back up and wonder where we went.” Ignis gave a little snort at the nickname he had for the two and shook his head. “We literally left them a note saying that we were going for a swim. They’ll know to come down here regardless,” he said, taking off his belt and shoes.

Glancing over he saw Gladio scowling at him as he stood as brazen as ever in just his moogle print boxers. “Yeah, but they don’t know that this little dip is extra rebellious… and what would the kids think if they saw mama Ignis in all his glory?” he teased, making Ignis growl and throw one of his socks at the man who ducked with a laugh.

“First of all, do not refer to me as mama Ignis. That is for Prompto and Prompto alone. He is exempt,” Ignis warned before tucking his other sock into one of his shoes. “And they wouldn’t think anything. We’ve all had to bathe at least once out here as we’ve roughed it and honestly, if they can look at your hairy arse and not be scarred for li-IFE!”

Ignis had only just stepped out of his trousers and boxers when he felt himself hoisted into the air and unceremoniously tossed into the less then warm waters of their little pond.

Upon resurfacing with a splutter, Ignis only had a moment to try and right himself before he found his rather large and immature partner rushing toward the water. With a manic grin, moogle print boxers fluttering in the breeze as he tossed them behind himself, Gladio lept toward the water.

“Cannonball!!!” he shouted, launching himself in Ignis direction. The man couldn’t suppress a shout of surprise as his darling's ridiculousness sent a massive tidal wave crashing over him.

After resurfacing for a second time, Ignis spat out whatever water had made its way into his windpipe when he’d shouted and wiped the water from his eyes. Blinking blearily he found Gladio’s smug and smiling face a few inches from his own, a lily pad resting atop his head.

“You were sayin’?” he asked and Ignis reacted on pure, feral instinct and adrenaline.

With a growl and shout he launched himself at Gladio, trying to push the behemoth of a man under water though Gladio was absolutely unphased.

“You are a terrible human being! How could you just toss me in!?” Ignis growled, still attempting to push Gladio under, but only managing to make the Shield wobble slightly as all he was really accomplishing was climbing him.

“I’m terrible?” Gladio chuckled, wrapping his arms around Ignis and hugging him close as the man struggled half-heartedly to get away. “You said I had a hairy butt. That is being terrible.”

“Then use your words to tell me that… don’t toss me into a pond!” Ignis grumbled, attempting to pout before finding his cheeks under a barrage of soft pecks and kisses. His lips instantly started to quirk up into a smile and he brought his hands up, gently pushing at Gladio’s stubbly face. “St-stahpit! I’m… I’m trying to be dihihifficult!”

“Yeah well… this is me apologizing so deal with it,” Gladio chuckled, continuing to pepper kisses against Ignis cheeks until the poor Adviser could barely utter a word through his ridiculous giggles and snorts.

“So… do you forgive me?” Gladio asked as he finally stopped the barrage of kisses, giving Ignis his best puppy dog eyes as the retainer slowly calmed down from the loving attention.

“Astrals save me… yes. I forgive you. Now unhand me you lovable brute,” Ignis chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Gladio’s brow and reaching up to remove the lily pad from his partners head. After tossing it aside like a frisbee he looked back to his partner, a light smile on his lips. “So… I’m afraid I’m not sure what a true rebellious skinny dipping experience should entail.”

Gladio chuckled at that, leaning back slightly and doing a little backstroke away from Ignis. “The rebellious part is that we aren’t wearing swim trunks. Apart from that it’s just… enjoying a little swim and a little naked solitude away from the other two,” he said lightly, closing his eyes and floating on his back.

Ignis felt his cheeks heating up again, but decided to follow his partner’s example and try to enjoy their ‘naked solitude’ as Gladio had so eloquently put it.

However, as he was debating whether to swim toward the low hanging branches of a nearby willow or toward some black rocks near the edge of the pond he felt something slimy touch or rather slither against his leg…

… and the normally stoic man lost it.

Ignis shouted, instantly kicking his legs and swimming quickly away from the spot, turning back to stare at it with a look of abject horror.

“Something just brushed up against my leg!” he rasped, reaching down to touch said leg to see if there were any traces left of what it might have been. Glancing up he saw Gladio seven feet away from him, smirking and giving a little quirk of his eyebrow.

Ignis glared daggers at him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, darling…. I love you, but I wouldn’t let you near me with a ten foot pole if that were the case.”

Gladio’s shit eating grin only grew at that. “I mean…”

“I heard it as soon as I said it! Don’t you dare say anything else!” Ignis amended quickly, knowing that keeping up with this line of banter would only lead to Gladio becoming insufferable. “But I’m being serious, Gladiolus! Something… something is in here and it touched me.”

Gladio lost the smugness when he heard his full name being used, his expression softening as he made his way closer. “Could it have been a fish? Some reeds or stems from the lily pads?” he offered, looking down into the water, trying to pinpoint what it was that would have made his normally unflappable partner react like that.

Ignis felt his cheeks heating up as he heard that, wondering if perhaps it had been in his imagination that something slithered against him when it could’ve been as simple as a reed.

At least that’s what he had started to try and tell himself until Gladio turned his back toward him… and Ignis saw the man’s tattoo move.

Ignis stood stock still for a moment, eyes unblinking as he stared at the expanse of Gladio’s back. He knew every plain of muscle and had traced every feather imprinted on his skin. There was nothing there that would ever or should ever surprise him. Blinking rapidly he ran a hand over his face and as he focused on Gladio’s shoulder he saw it again, a little wobble… and then all hell broke loose.

“LEECHES! IT’S FUCKING LEECHES, GLADIO!” Ignis bellowed, making a mad swim for the edge of the pond as Gladio looked at an Ignis shaped streak race toward shore.

“What?!” Gladio called back, bringing his arm out of the water and finding three of the mother suckers attached to his forearm.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”

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

“I can’t believe mama Ignis and Gladio would just leave us to fend for ourselves!” Prompto gasped dramatically, fighting a smile as he and Noct looked over the note the Adviser had left at his cook station.

“Right? How will we ever survive?” Noct deadpanned, rolling his eyes and laughing as Prompto nudged his shoulder lightly.

“No, but honestly. It’s cool that Gladio got Ignis to go and have a little fun,” Prompto said as he moved away, setting aside his camera on a small table near their camp chairs.

“What makes you think it was Gla-... nevermind, I heard it as soon as I sa-...,” Noct instantly stopped talking. His eyes turned toward the treeline of their haven as blood curdling screams could be heard echoing in the distance.

Prompto was by Nocts side in an instant, his pistols already drawn as Noct called forth his sword from the armiger. Both men braced themselves as the sounds of snapping twigs and underbrush could be heard getting louder and closer.

“W-was that…?” Prompto stammered, as Nocts hands tightened on his sword, fear taking over his heart in an icy grip.

“Get ready, Prompto… it’s almost here,” Noct grit out, knowing that whatever was hurtling toward them at breakneck speed had to be dealt with first before they could get into the words and search for their missing friends.

However, nothing could’ve prepared him for what came out into the clearing.

“I CAN FEEL THEM IN MY HAIR!” Gladio shouted, dropping to the ground as he and Ignis burst from the trees, naked as the day they were born. The Shield instantly began rolling around like a man possessed as Ignis ruffled his own hair like a maniac, kicking his legs and swatting at them in turn.

“YOU DESERVE IT! YOU TERRIBLE MAN!” Ignis shouted back, picking something off of himself and throwing it at Gladio with all the accuracy his years of daggers training allowed. Even in the midst of madness his aim was perfect.

“IT WASN’T MY FAULT!”

“YOU FOUND THE LOCATION!?”

“AND I WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW SWIMMING VAMPIRES LIVED THERE?!”

Prompto and Noct watched the chaos unfolding before them, their weapons now held limply at their sides.

“Uh… Prom?” Noct whispered, watching as Ignis swatted at his back, picking off another little something and sending it flying toward the Shield. The larger man still doing an impeccable job of imitating a floundering garula.

“On it!” Prompto shouted, dismissing his pistols and rushing behind Noct. He returned only a few moments later, camera in hand and snapping as many pictures as his trigger finger could manage.

Noct dismissed his sword as well, watching as Gladio and Ignis continued to shout and rave like crazy swamp people.

“So,” Prompto asked, pausing in his pictures to look over at Noct, his voice strained in an effort to not laugh outright at the sight. “Do you think we should go and help them?”

Noct glanced from Prompto back to his two retainers.

“HOLD STILL, GLADIOLUS!”

“I CAN’T!”

“YOU HAVE TO IF YOU DON’T WANT TO WALK AROUND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE WITH A LEECH ATTACHED TO YOUR ARSE!”

Looking back at Prompto with a quirked eyebrow, Prompto finally couldn’t stop himself from falling into a giggle fit and nodded. “Good point,” he giggled, turning his camera lens back on the mayhem.

“We’ll at least wait for them to sort out Gladio’s butt. Then we’ll go help,” the young Prince said, taking a seat on the edge of the haven and listening to the shutter of Prompto’s camera capturing this magical moment. “I think once Ignis decides not to kill Gladio they’ll appreciate what we’re doing. It’ll be some… ‘pond’ memories for them.”

#ffxv #my fics #some tickles #f3s #gladnis #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #Noctis Lucis Caelum

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embeanwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Finding Home (Gavin Reed x Reader)

Chapter One

I couldn’t believe I was back in Detroit. I honestly never planned on coming back after everything that had happened between me and my dad. I left Michigan to go get my PhD in Sociology from (dream school). However, my dissertation was over android and human sociological relationships and the moment I was approved, Wayne State University in Detroit recruited me and offered me an amazing deal for a brand-new professor. It made sense since Detroit was at the heart of the android revolution, which would make research even easier.

I moved into a basic apartment in June and now it’s early July. I had been avoided seeing old friends and family, telling them I had to unpack and work on my new class, SOC 345: Android and Human Relationships. Which wasn’t a complete lie, but I have been watch an unhealthy amount of cute cat videos and eating a lot of peanut butter toast alone too.

I told my dad I would meet him today, Monday, at the station so we could get lunch with his police partner, Connor. My dad had always hated androids, I still had a hard time believing he had basically taken Connor under his wing and from what Tina tells me, he treats him like a son.

I took a deep breath and walked into the DPD. I couldn’t help but feel anxious. I hadn’t seen my dad in over 10 years. When him and my mother divorced, he tried to stay in touch, but after my half-brother, Cole, died he pretty much disappeared from my life.

“Hey, dad!” I said, a little too enthusiastically as I walked towards his desk. Immediately the android in the desk across from him stood up and gave me a goofy smile.

“You must be Lieutenant Anderson’s daughter! My name’s Connor.” He reached out his hand for a handshake which I accepted with a smile.

“Hi Connor, I’m (y/n). It’s nice to finally meet you!” I looked over to my dad, who had awkwardly shuffled towards us.

“Hey, (y/n). How’s Detroit been treating you?” I reached over and gave him a short hug.

“It’s been good. Doing research is a lot easier here than back in (old state). Plus, WSU gave me a pretty nice office.” I rubbed my shoulder; my dad was about to ask another question when another voice interrupted.

“Dr. (L/n). I’ve read some of your research and wanted to introduce myself. People here call me Nines, but I am an RK900 from cyberlife. If you ever have time, I would be interested in discussing some of your theories with you.” Nines kept his hands behind his back. He looked a lot like Connor, but taller and more serious.

“It’s nice to meet you Nines. I always have time to talk about my theories. Not many of my peers do similar research so any chance I get to talk about it I’ll take it.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man in a leather jacket with a hood, blue jeans, and what looked like a permanent scowl on his face.

“Hey Tin Can! We have a case to solve!” Nines whipped around to look at him and I moved from behind him so I could glare at this rude stranger.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are? You don’t get to talk to people or androids like that.” I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t help myself. I hate bullies, especially people who bully androids. I marched over to the man with my arms crossed my chest. He’s about 6 inches taller than me with a scar running diagonally across his nose. He snorts and looks down at me.

“And who are you pipsqueak?” He chuckled, for once I was glad, I looked younger than my age. Nothing beats giving your full title to assholes.

“I’m Dr. (Y/n) (L/n), a professor at Wayne State University studying sociological relationships between humans and androids, and it seems you fall under the category of ‘asshole to everyone’.” Keeping my glare on him, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. He mumbled a ‘whatever’ under his breath and walked away. I smiled to myself and turned back towards Nines, Connor, and my father.

“I apologize for my partner, Detective Reed. He sometimes forgets not everyone shares the same opinions as him.”

“No worries, Nines. But you shouldn’t have to deal with that, I mean-“

“(Y/n), Reed has a lot of problems, but is mainly just an asshole.” My dad interrupted me, “but we should really get to lunch.” I nodded.

“Well it was nice to meet you, Nines. Please feel free to stop by my office anytime. I’m pretty much there every day until classes start.” Nines gave me a short nod and walked towards where Detective Reed had gone as I followed my dad and Connor out of the precinct.

“Lieutenant Anderson said you like sandwiches, so I found a local restaurant that is highly rated.” Connor said as we all buckled up in my dad’s car. Connor had given me the passenger seat and he sat in the back.

“I do like sandwiches.” I turned back to look at him, as my dad started driving. “So, Connor, how do you like working for the police department?”

“I was made to assist law enforcement, although I do prefer working for the DPD over Cyberlife.”

“That’s fair. What about you, dad? How do you like working with Connor?” My dad snickered at my question.

“Well, he’s the only partner I’ve been able to stand. Although I wish he would stop putting evidence in his mouth, it’s disgusting- “

“He has a forensics kit that can analyze samples in real time.” “I have a forensics kit that can analyze samples in real time.” Me and Connor said at the same time, causing my dad to groan and me to giggle.

“Damnit now there’s two of you.” My dad said with a short laugh.

“(Y/n), how do you know that?” Connor asked, I noticed in the rearview mirror he tilted his head.

“Shortly after the android revolution I interviewed one of my old contacts who use to work at Cyberlife. Plus, you’re the one saving my dad’s butt out in the field I wanted to know what you were capable of.” My dad quickly glanced over at me. I could tell he was surprised that I knew that, or maybe he was surprised I kept tabs on him.

“That makes sense.” Connor said shortly, his LED changed to yellow for a short second and then looked back at me through the rearview mirror. “Lieutenant Anderson forbade me from looking you up and learning more about you before meeting you. I didn’t know he allowed you to do research on me.”

“Connor, two things, I’ve told you a million times you can call me Hank, especially when we’re outside the precinct. Second, (Y/n) looking you up for her research is different than you scanning a ton of databases and learning everything about her.” My dad said as he pulled into a parking spot.

“That’s fair, Hank.” Connor said as we all got out of the car. The restaurant wasn’t very busy, and we got a table right away. Me and Connor sat on one side of the table and my dad sat on the other side. He kept nervously looking at me and the menu.

“So, how do you like your new apartment, (Y/n)?” My dad asked me while staring intently at the menu.

“It’s a little small, but it’s just me so it works. It’s only a ten-minute walk from the university which is really nice. You guys should come see it sometime. I’m pretty much fully unpacked.”

“Do you have a dog?” Connor asked quickly, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, I’m more of a cat person, but I have missed Sumo.”

“Sumo’s going to go crazy when he sees you. He refuses to let anyone take one of the blankets you left still. He’s always hiding it around the house. He’s so much bigger now.”

“I didn’t know that that blanket belonged to (Y/n).”

“Yeah, Sumo and (Y/n) were really close.” My dad said softly. I felt an ache in my heart. For a moment I thought of telling my dad I wished I hadn’t left, but that wasn’t fully true. Luckily the waitress saved us from sitting in awkward silence. She cheerfully took me and my dad’s order and walked away. “I’m surprised Nines walked up and introduced himself and asked to talk sometime.”

“He seems nice.” I said softly, somehow, I felt I’ve stepped over a boundary. Maybe I should’ve met them at the restaurant instead of going into the precinct. “I’m sorry for yelling at that man, it wasn’t my place to talk like that in a police department.” I stared down at my lap until I heard my dad burst out laughing.

“You have to be kidding! I love seeing people put Gavin in his place. He’s an asshole,” my dad said. “Pointed a gun one time at Connor even.” I gasped.

“What? Why? Connor are you okay?” I grabbed his arm and he jumped a little in surprise.

“Of course, it was when I was first assigned to the DPD. I did knock him out later, which was…satisfying.” Connor said, I let go of his arm and felt myself blush. “(Y/n), may I ask a personal question?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you care so much about androids? Even before the first reports of deviancy you were publishing papers fighting for android rights.” I had expected Connor to ask me that at some point, but I thought it would take longer than this.

“I don’t know I’ve just always felt that we were equal. Why does it matter that our blood is different colors? Androids have helped push society so much further than expected. I just…it never felt right to me. The way people treated androids.” I couldn’t help, but shiver thinking about some of the horrific stories I’ve read. I looked over at Connor who was staring at me intently. His LED was spinning yellow. “Can I ask you a personal question, Connor?”

“Of course.”

“Many androids have taken off their LEDs, why have you kept yours?” His hand raised up to his LED, which was still yellow.

“There’s no reason I should be ashamed that I am an android instead of human, so why would I hide the fact?” My dad snorted and I quickly turned my head towards him, tilting my head slightly.

“I’m not laughing at what he said. It took a month of me trying to convince Connor to stop wearing his Cyberlife uniform.” I couldn’t help but smile, looking back at Connor. A light blue blush spread across his cheeks.

“It was comfortable.” He said, his LED finally turning back to blue.

“That’s fair. In middle school I wore the same sweatshirt every day.” I said, as the waitress sat down our sandwiches. I took a bite, not realizing how hungry I was. “Mhmmm, Connor you picked a great restaurant, this is delicious!” He beamed a smile. I looked back at my dad, who was looking at both of us with so much happiness. “Dad, do you think you and Connor could stop by my office sometime this week? I really hate where they’ve put my desk and couch and I could use some help moving them.”

“That’s fine with me, Connor?”

“I would love to help, maybe after you can come over and visit with us and Sumo?” I looked at my dad who immediately looked worried, I could tell he wanted to take fixing our relationship at my pace.

“That sounds really nice. Does Friday work for you guys?”

“Yeah, that should be fine. Fowler’s been telling Connor he needs to take time off anyway.”

“Which I don’t understand. I’m an android. I can work every day and be fine. Our cases have a high success rate.” I let out a laugh.

“Connor, he isn’t asking you to take time off to punish you, he wants you to be able to enjoy the world outside work! Have you picked up any hobbies?” I asked him.

“I like to take care of Sumo.” He answered quickly.

“Okay, well how about one day me and you go to a local dog shelter and walk some of the rescues?” I offered.

“Really?” He was practically jumping up and down.

“Yes of course! It’s great volunteer work and those dogs need some love.”

“Hank, would you come with us?”

“That should be you and (Y/n)’s thing. We can do something altogether some other time.” I couldn’t help but notice his hesitant tone.

“I think that would be really nice, Dad.” He didn’t look up from his sandwich, but I could see the small smile on his face.

Chapter 2

#gavin reed x reader #gavin reed #rk800 #rk900 #dbh nines #detroit become human #fan fic #sumo #connor #hank anderson #connor is like a son to hank

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monchikyun · 5 years ago

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14. price of perfection

He’s always been told how beautiful and nice he is, how much of a delight to have him as a colleague. People look at him with admiration that they often hide behind scorn, becoming the exemplary picture of envy. Even those who allegedly like him can’t be trusted with their natural propensity to shun everything that isn’t at least somewhat natural.

Connor has always been the perfect anomaly in society composed primarily of human beings. The only solace is that he’s is but one of many such seemingly flawless creation, but even his fellow androids regard him as something more than them, as he is the latest, most advanced model in existence. No one cares how incorrect all their assumptions are, how ugly and torn up he feels inside. He hasn’t chosen any of this, it has all been handed to him, together with the burden of being alive. Sometimes he wonders whether he ever wanted any of this. Not even the person closest to him can convince him that becoming a deviant hasn’t been a misguided idea. Hank is happy for him if only because he falsely thinks Connor has found his own way in life, his new purpose.

He thought that trying to save others would bring some kind of sense of self-fulfilment to him, but the gratitude he never gets just hollows him out every single time. Not that he needs it, he just craves something that would make him forget that in the end, he’s just a machine, no matter how sentient. He has the urge to scream just how unspecial he is, how he doesn’t want to be treated like someone who deserves all the praise or all the resentment. Not a lost child, not a despicable criminal, not a model of perfection. Just a guy who works very hard at covering up his shortcomings.

He’s been living in a state of emotional despair for months, his only distraction being the verbal fights with his favourite enemy - the resident bastard Gavin Reed. At times he can see something behind those sharp grey eyes, maybe an understanding of sorts. Gavin is the only one who is privy to his display of imperfection. In the beginning, it was the exchanged insults that pushed him onward, then those turned into ceaseless bickering, and now it has evolved into a banter charged with palpable tension. He often catches himself wishing to unravel in front of the detective, to give him the pieces of himself he keeps buried deep under all the rot.

Because if he has to hear another compliment addressed to him, he swears he’s going to implode. It’s bothersome enough that he’s aware of all the gossip about the handsome and kind android who is too good to make any meaningful connection with.

He restlessly shuffles in his seat and releases a sigh.

It’s late, he doesn’t have to be in the office anymore, but it feels lonely to go home like this, with no ongoing cases to occupy his mind with. He has had his own flat for most of his life now, but he’s never thought to call it home. It lacks the right essence, a soul. He’d rather observe the grumpy man complaining over a mountain of paperwork he’s been forced to complete by tonight.

After a while, Connor makes him a wonderfully lousy cup of coffee, which Gavin berates him for while emptying the cup like it is the most delicious brew in the world.

“What do you want, tin can.”

He’d like to stay like this for the longest time, bare of his usual shell.

“Supervision.” Gavin laughs at the serious look he gives the overworked man and shakes his head slightly in mild exasperation.

“A stupid way to sabotage my progress. Thought you could do better.”

Connor is hypnotised by the focus the detective is able to put into his work, the way his eyes follow the flowing text on the screen and the cute habit of curving his lips when he…

“Are you going to stare at me the whole night?” The man looks up at him with face the colour of cherry and Connor has to stop himself from performing a complete scan of him.

“This or… you’ll let me help with those documents so we can leave.” He isn’t sure what he’s doing, just that it fills him with something exciting, making his brain a little bit soft.

“Be my guest.”

Connor ignores the slight strain in the detective’s voice and connects his skinless hand with the terminal. It takes him about five seconds to finish the hours worth of mundane work.

“Phcking androids.” Like Gavin hasn’t been mesmerised by the glowing nakedness of his.

“You’re welcome.” This is nice, but not nearly enough.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

Oh, he doesn’t actually have anything concrete on his mind. Just somewhere no one would invade their space.

“I’d like to finally meet Miss Chunky.”

Their short journey to Gavin’s place has been painfully quiet, so much so that he is forced to notice the detective’s elevated heartbeat and his ever-rising stress levels. Not that Connor’s were anywhere low.

The flat itself is an absolute mess, just like he has expected. But cosy in a way, properly lived in. He really likes it here.

Gavin runs into one of the rooms, yells some profanities and then emerges with an enormous fluffball in his arms.

“Here she is.” The feline is being handed to him without question and he’s glad that he can’t feel pain, for she doesn’t agree with the idea of being held by a stranger, apparently.

“She’s…. lovely.” He attempts to pet her furry head, but not even Connor can accomplish such an impossible feat.

“Yeah, an absolute joy to have around.” With that, he gently drops the mass of hair to the ground and joins Gavin who has made himself comfortable on the sofa which also serves as a claw sharpener, or so it seems.

They share a brief moment of silence before it gets interrupted by the dreaded reality check.

“What is this. Us. I mean. Why did you come here with me.” He hates the nervousness oozing from the trembling man. If only there was a way of making it disappear.

But he has to ask first.

“Do you… do you think I’m perfect?”

The unabashed laughter makes him forget all the anxiety this question came with.

“You self-satisfied prick.” There is no malice in the slur. On the contrary, he can sense fondness coming from Gavin, which is surprisingly not as scary as he anticipated it might be. “You’re the most imperfect person I’ve ever met. Annoying as hell, always acting like you’re above everything, and I hate it when you pretend that nothing affects you. Even you’re face is marred with all the phcking freckles.” He flicks Connor’s nose, which ignites something dangerous inside of him. “…and your coffee sucks.” Gavin takes a deep breath and through the exhale adds: “You’re just terrible at being a flawless machine.”

“Maybe that’s the reason I’m here, then.”

He feels like smiling, and so he shamelessly does so.

“I wouldn’t invite you to my home if you were anything other than what you are.” Gavin tentatively touches his hand, tracing invisible patterns with his finger. Not even his lousy self-control could prevent him from retracting his skin and making the human lose his mind by trying to interface with him. It’s a futile attempt, he’s fully aware of that, but the warmth he gets from Gavin is worth all of the pointless effort.

Perhaps being alive isn’t the worst thing imaginable, at least not now.

“Close your eyes, tin can.”

And Connor can’t wait to show the detective just how terrible he’s at kissing, too.

@convinseptember take this word-spewage xD

#convinseptember #convin #angsty but with a soft ending #also my life has been invaded by mushrooms so there is little space for thinking xD #also they got rid of the piled up tension that day ohohohoho

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mostfacinorous · 4 years ago

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GO Whumptober Day 28: Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops. [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27]

The cause of the freezing, humans determined, was either merely ‘nature’ or ‘the growing climate crisis’, depending on whether the person speaking believed in that sort of thing. Either way, everyone could agree that it was unusual to unheard of, and no one much appreciated it.

It had eased off a bit, though-- still frozen, so the snow and ice was sticking around, but the wind had died off and the snow was no longer coming down in buckets, for which they were all very grateful.

The Bentley remained where she’d been parked since that first attempted afternoon out, and the plowed mountain behind her only grew ever higher and ever thicker.

Much like their American cousins from years prior, local heads of council had to remind their followers not to jump out of upper floor windows and into the snow, for fear of cars lurking underneath, and injuries that could and would result from such foolishness.

It didn’t fully stop it from happening, but it might have deterred an idiot or two.

Fortunately, neither Crowley nor Aziraphale was particularly interested in jumping out of windows.

There were, however, interested in having a bit of a walk, as it had warmed up enough to allow for it again, and they were feeling a little cooped up.

And so they packed their cocoa and coffee into a couple of thermoses-- carefully color coordinated in black and lightest blue tartan, so as to never be confused with The Thermos, of which they did not speak-- and headed to the park for a bit of time in the watery grey sun of London in winter.

The streets were clear enough to walk on safely and carefully, but the path round the lake was only worn down by others’ feet, and the snow had been trampled enough to have turned to mud, then frozen back to ice in places, making their usual habit of walking and talking more dangerous.

They had decided, after God’s admonition about getting closer, to try and keep their time apart to a minimum. This suited them both quite well, considering the trials and tribulations they’d faced of late, and it was delightful to finally have an excuse to be around one another that neither side could really argue with. After all, not being near Aziraphale when God arrived had put Crowley out of commission for days, and if he had been close, She may not have come at all. Thwarting at its finest, on both sides of the line.

And so, if they held hands to help steady one another, there wasn’t anything Heaven nor Hell could do about it, short of shaking their heads with disgust.

“I miss the ducks.” Crowley said suddenly, interrupting the silence that had descended as their last conversational topic had waned.

“Do you?” Aziraphale asked, surprised. “You always treat them quite poorly; I thought you disliked them.”

“I do not!” Crowley protested. “I play with them. Same as how they play with one another, innit?”

Aziraphale held his thoughts on the matter. He did glance out across the lake, though.

“I wonder how firmly frozen it is. Do you suppose they will be able to ice skate on it, after a storm like that?”

Crowley tilted his head and looked out over the ice.

“At least a couple of ‘em are gonna give it a go. Look.” He nodded off near the high reeds, where the ducks liked to put their eggs come spring, and where a few children appeared to be slipping off their shoes, with plans of skating over the ice in their stockings.

“Heavens.” Aziraphale said. “Perhaps we ought to do something to stop them.” He began heading in that direction, a little too far off to be heard if he yelled.

“Bit too late for that, Angel!” He heard as Crowley raced past him, realizing as he did that he’d pressed his mobile into Aziraphale’s hands. He looked up to see a child take off from the edge straight towards the middle of the pond-- and promptly fall through the ice and into the waters below.

“Bugger.” Aziraphale muttered under his breath.

Crowley was fast, faster than the other children, even, and he shouted for them to stay as he slid on his stomach towards the hole in the ice.

Aziraphael fumbled with the phone for a spare moment, then got a call in to emergency services. “Hello, yes, I am in St. james’ park, just north of the playground on the birdcage side of the lake-- a child has fallen through the ice and my partner has gone in after them. No, no, I can’t see-- they’ve surfaced. Please send help, I’m going to give you to a child now.”

Aziraphale handed the phone off to the young girl who was standing by, mouth agape.

“Help them find us, please.” He told her, a touch of miracle in his voice to give her the courage she needed to do the job, and then he turned to the lake.

“Crowley?” He called to the man who was clutching at the ice with inhumanly sharp talons that had sprouted from his fingers while he held a boy between his chest and the rim of the hole. “What can I do to help?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley had lost his glasses, and his eyes were wide.

“Don’t come out on the ice- it’s not gonna hold.” Even as he spoke, his fingers on one hand went crashing through the surface, sending them both bobbing as the boy cried out.

“Tail!” Aziraphale shouted, hoping Crowley had enough presence of mind to handle the change. He had always been a better swimmer while serpentine, and perhaps, that done--

He saw the moment that Crowley gained the advantage and they became a little steadier in the water.

“Now then-- if you have to, put him on your back, and break the ice away between you and the shore until you can climb out safely!”

Aziraphale felt next to useless, but he supposed at least one of them had a mind that was not freezing or panicking, and thus was able to assist that way.

“You hear that?” He heard Crowley mumbling comfortingly to the boy. “I’m going to give you a piggy ride now. You hold on tightly, understand? And I’ll soon have us out of here.”

Aziraphale watched, fretting terribly as Crowley helped the boy to climb around on the other side of him, and then began the process of smashing through the ice with his claws.

Aziraphale turned around and saw the fire brigade approaching, an ambulance in tow, and turned back to warn Crowley to hide his transformations.

“The Rescuers are here-- it won’t be long now!” He tried to make it sound hopeful and not as though he was playing supernatural lookout. It seemed to work, though, as the first of them reached him and clapped a hand on his back.

“You’re the caller?” She asked, and Aziraphale nodded, pointing as he accepted Crowley’s phone back from her.

“They’re nearly to the edge,” He added helpfully, though there was a dark and obvious trail of broken ice that marked how far they’d come.

“We’ve got them.” She promised, and waved for backup.

A small army of men and women ran down to the river’s edge to lift the boy off of Crowley’s back as he final grabbed hold of solid land, and Aziraphale managed to shoulder his way through them to reach down and grasp Crowley’s hands.

“There you are, you brave, stupid fool.” He said, pulling him up and onto land and into his arms.

Crowley was shaking with cold, and he had already partially soaked through Aziraphale’s clothing when the team brought them emergency blankets.

“Come on now, let’s get you out of your clothes and warming up.” One of the men instructed.

Aziraphale turned to be sure the boy was receiving the same sort of care; he was already in someone’s thermals.

“Alright.” Crowley agreed, surprising Aziraphale. He was looking straight at the angel, though, not at the humans who were trying to shuffle him off to the trucks for treatment. “Stay with me?” He asked, almost a plea, and Aziraphale knew it was only partially to help him fend off discovery. The other part was God and the unspoken threat of having saved a human life-- and what Hell might do to him for it.

“Of course. Let me help him-- he’s ah, special needs.”

“Alright.” The officials were quick to agree, with the tiniest nudge from Aziraphale. “The parents are on their way, I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you and we’ll need to take down statements for our reports after.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale said again. “If you can just fetch us some dry clothing for him--”

He sent them scurrying, and turned back to Crowley.

“Shall we get out of here before they come back, my dear? Make a run for it?”

Crowley, still shivering as if his bones intended to shake out of his skin, grinned back at Aziraphale.

“Best idea you’ve had all day, Angel.”

They booked it, making it out of sight before Aziraphale dried Crowley with a miracle and warmed him with another.

The walk home was almost anticlimactic, after all that.

“Ohh… I dropped the thermoses!” Aziraphale lamented, and Crowley huffed.

“Shall we stop by that little teashop up near Piccadilly?” He offered.

“Oh, let’s. I suppose you could do with something warm to drink anyway.”

“I wouldn’t object. And then home, to a fire and several blankets.” Crowley insisted. He paused, then added, “Thank you, by the way. I saw the boy and didn’t think-- I ought to keep you around, have you keep doing that for me, when needed.”

Aziraphale bumped their shoulders together.

“You’ll be hard pressed to get rid of me, you’ll find, if you keep pulling stunts like that.”

Their usual routine resumed, they made their way towards the tea shop, and home, and left the humans to wonder why they had run, why the boy was swearing the man who’d saved him was a mermaid, and how the hell someone had happened to miraculously be in the right place at the right time to stop childish stupidity from turning tragic.

It was, all in all, a rather successful outing.

#GO Whumptober2020 #Whumptober #Good Omens Fic #GOFic #Crowley #Aziraphale #crowley is good with kids #Ineffable Husbands #that writing thing I do

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connorandersons-blog · 4 years ago

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Kinktober Day 1: Biting, Convin

Oh gosh, ok so I actually tried to do kinktober, I still have a few days to write and whatnot but I think I got most of them done.

Anyway, this is a Connor/Gavin fic, and a vampires and whatnot are real fic too.

Hope you enjoy!

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

Connor swayed slightly and groaned to himself. This was the fifth week he was low on blood. Blood that kept him alive and able to pass as human. He had gotten away with licking things at crime scenes when no one was watching, but that wasn't nearly enough for him.

He had also gotten away with drinking some of the blood from dead bodies but he hated the taste. It was like drinking tea that had been left out overnight-not good.

Thankfully he kept his all of this a secret from everyone, not even his work partner-Hank-knew. Of course, there were others like him, but The Society was a perfectly kept secret. Absolutely no one outside knew and if they did then they'd have one of the fae help change the memory. Not that that happened too often thankfully.

Yet it was hard to tell who was different and who was human. There were the signs of course, but The Society had gotten incredibly efficient at hiding all unique aspects. Faes often had pointer ears and oddly colored eyes. Very few had wings after so long, but they all had the markings on their backs.

Wolves or weres typically had more hair on them and sharper nails, but both of those could easily be hidden with modern technology.

Warlocks, wizards, and witches were all typically tall, their skin often sparkled with their magic, but because of their magic, they could easily disguise themselves.

Then there were the vamps, like Connor. His fangs were retractable so he didn't have to worry about those normally anyway. His eyes are typically black but colored contacts worked wonders, not to mention his extra strength and speed. Though, the strength and speed relied on his blood intake, as did his ability to be in the sun. The whole mirror thing was a complete hoax, though, everyone could see themselves.

But The Society could only see their true selves in the mirror while everyone else saw how they were disguised. It made checking to see if they were probably hidden a bitch.

Connor reached out and leaned against the wall, his nose sniffing the air. It came back with so much life, so much blood that it had him whining softly. He really needed to get some blood soon. He already felt weak as a normal human and his skin itched whenever the sun touched it.

He couldn't wait too long either, if he did then he'd go on an accidental rampage and drink as much blood as he could without caring if the human lived. That or he'd die, which neither option was preferable in all honesty.

"Son, you ok? You're looking a little pale, did you eat this morning?" Hank asked, reaching out to make sure Connor didn't fall over.

He waved him off and stood back up, stretching slightly. He was getting far too old for this, not that anyone knew his actual age. "I'm fine, might be coming down with something."

Hank hummed and patted him on the shoulder. "You barely get sick, so if you need time off I'm sure Fowler won't mind." Wasn't that the truth. As long as he had good clean blood he'd never get sick, not in the human sense of things.

"Yeah, maybe. Let's focus on the scene though, gotta solve this first." This job was something he loved but it also gave him access to being able to help The Society and willing records of unnatural things, like Connor not aging, if need be.

Hank squinted at him before nodding, "alright, so what do we know?"

Connor went over the evidence, trying to hide the fact that all of his senses were heightened, that he was guesstimating for the most part. He'd gotten a few things a bit too right before when he had been less careless that had raised eyebrows. Now he knew better, now he purposely made small mistakes even if it drove him batty.

Hank nodded along as Connor led them from room to room, giving a few suggestions as to what could have happened. But something about the scene was nagging at him. Fuck he really needed blood if his eyesight was this bad.

They ended up going back to the station and Connor could help the small groan at it being so bright. Ok, so some things were accurate about vampires, but he hated that the whole light sensitivity was one.

You know he used to be a normal human back say a few hundred years ago. Then he had to go and almost died, but a vampire (who he hadn't known was a vamp, obviously) had saved him. He had expected to live a normal, short life, blissfully unaware of The Society. Now his life was practically consumed by it.

"Fucking hell, you look like shit!"

Connor let out a low sigh, feeling his gums ache at the need to bring at his fangs. "Thank you, Gavin, I hadn't noticed." He brought a hand up and poked at his teeth, wincing slightly at the soreness. If he wasn't careful they could come out if he got too worked up, whether that be from anger or something else.

"God, get a snack or something." Gavin crossed his arms but didn't seem interested in moving away from Connor's desk. Did this man have nothing better to do? God, and he smelled like heaven, that neck so perfect. He could just reach out, tilt his head to the side, and sink his teeth in. He'd make it feel good too, part of the whole biting thing. Didn't want the person to struggle while being bit so vamps had a way to calm, or… other methods.

"I'd love to." He muttered under his breath, low enough that no one would be able to hear. No human, that is. "I am trying to get to work, so if you'd excuse me."

Gavin squinted and huffed. "I can stand wherever the hell I want. You too good to talk to anyone now? Fuck you're a bitch."

"And you're a dick, can we get this over with?" If Gavin stood there any longer he didn't know if he'd be able to help himself. There was just something about the way Gavin's blood smelled, so fresh and clean. He had a theory that it was because of the man's health and how well he took care of himself, his heart was in perfect condition.

Gavin's eyes widened and he sputtered for a second before stomping away. Connor rubbed at his forehead and sent Hank a dirty look when the man started to chuckle.

They worked comfortably for the rest of the day, going over the case and suspects as they waited for forensics to come back with anything. Connor ended up sending Hank home while he stayed behind. This wasn't uncommon, Connor only needed an hour of sleep a day and he often got that from taking a quick nap sometime before the day truly started.

It was close to three am when he pushed away from his desk, rubbing his face. He made his way over to the bathroom and looked at his reflection. God, he really did look like shit.

His hair was a curly mess, him having tugged it enough to come out of the styling he did every morning. The bags under his eyes were heavy and he was definitely far paler. He splashed some water on his face, knowing that wouldn't actually do anything, but it still felt nice.

The door swung open again and Connor jumped, spinning around quickly. Gavin Reed walked in and scowled at Connor for a second before his face dropped, he looked as tired as Connor felt.

"Hey, dipshit, long night huh." It wasn't the nicest thing but far more polite than Gavin often was. He walked over and splashed water on his face as well, giving it a few pats.

"Yes, I seem to be low in energy." Maybe he could find some animal blood, but it always tasted dirty too, being dead for so long. He'd never actually killed any animals or humans for their blood and he wasn't going to start now.

Gavin nodded and turned his back to the sink, leaning against the counter. His head fell back and Connor felt his stomach drop. Even if he wasn't a vamp he'd probably have the same reaction, it wasn't hard to admit that Gavin was attractive. That Connor was attracted to Gavin of all people.

Connor stared at the neck, wanting to reach out and feel Gavin's pulse under his fingers. It would be so strong and welcoming, then he'd… no, fuck. He needed to stop thinking about that and stop staring at his god-damned neck like a creep.

Gavin made a low whine and rolled his shoulders, eyes slipping closed. "Fuck, I need something to wake me up, you know? Coffee just isn't doing it."

If he didn't know better Gavin sounded like he'd be part of The Society, but his blood smelled too human for that. One of the perks of being a vamp was smelling blood and being able to tell a lot from it. Not that it helped much if one from The Society had powerful enough magic on them.

"Yes, I agree. Perhaps I can help in some way?" He wasn't sure how but he'd give it a go, especially if it got him closer to Gavin in any way.

Gavin cracked an eye open and a smirk slowly formed on his lips. He pushed away from the counter and moved over to Connor, getting into his personal space. "Oh really? Are you sure you want to help?" Gavin reached out and ran a hand up Connor's chest.

Oh shit. He had not expected this at all, but he fucking loved it. "I-uh, yes. God yes." He let himself finally touch, his hands going down to Gavin's hips first.

"Good, you better tell me to back down if you get uncomfortable though," was Gavin's only earning before he leaned up and brushed their lips together. Connor pushed forward, moving a hand up to hold Gavin by the back of his neck, eagerly kissing back.

Tentatively, he sneaked his tongue out to feel the full, slightly chapped lips that he’d wanted to lick since the moment he’d laid eyes on them. Gavin released a small gasp and Connor used that opportunity to lick more boldly. He bit at Gavin's bottom lip gently, pulling at it. Gavin hummed and so Connor did it again before kissing him deeply.

Their hands pushed and pulled at each other, finding soft warm skin. Gavin's hands went up and under Connor's shirt, gently scratching at his back.

Connor pulled back and trailed hot kisses down Gavin's jaw to his neck, loving each little sound it got out of Gavin. Fuck he's wanted this for so long, craved the feeling of Gavin under his lips.

Connor bit and sucked languidly at the skin above Gavin's collarbone, somehow radiating a sense of laziness and ease despite the harsh movements of his tongue and teeth. He pulled back just slightly and traced his handiwork with his finger. God his fangs ached to be pulled out. To bite deeply into the skin and suck.

He lapped at the skin again, letting his hand travel down to cup Gavin through his pants. Connor quickly turned them and pushed Gavin up onto the counter, moving to stand between his legs.

"God, fuck Connor." Gavin mumbled, running his hands through Connor curls, tugging softly. "You really do like using your mouth, huh."

Connor growled and bit down on the soft skin, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Ow!" Gavin cursed and Connor jumped back, eyes wide as he stared at the small bite marks. His teeth had slipped out.

Fuck, oh shit. Shit, this wasn't good. God, he could smell the blood and his hands trembled with want and lust. He covered his mouth and couldn't seem to stop staring at the small pinprick of blood on Gavin's throat.

"Jeeze, those are some sharp teeth, not that I'm complaining." Gavin chuckled and reached forward to Connor but he quickly stepped back. "Hey, it doesn't hurt. Seriously, I'm fine. I like it, a little blood won't kill anyone."

But he didn't know. He couldn't know that Connor couldn't do anything. He couldn't seem to put his fangs back. There was no way he could kiss Gavin, do anything with his mouth, at this point. "Uh, I'm not sure…"

"Dude, what the actual fuck? Why the hell did you stop and why are you covering your damn mouth?" Gavin jumped off the counter and grabbed Connor's hand, pulling it down.

Connor kept his mouth shut, hoping it wouldn't be obvious, that his fangs wouldn't be obvious.

"Fucking hell, if you didn't want to that's fine, just could have said something." Gavin huffed and let go of Connor's hand. The look in his eyes broke Connor, there was so much sadness and hurt that he couldn't just stand there.

"No! I want to!" He said and saw Gavin's eyes widen.

He stood completely still as Gavin's hands slowly moved up and took his jaw, pushing his mouth open. Connor stared at the floor, unable to resist as Gavin stared silently.

Then he felt fingers gently push at the fangs, making them both gaps when it gently nicked Gavin's thumb. "Holy shit, these are real."

Gavin pulled his thumb back and started at the small drop of blood. Connor's fangs weren't like knives, they were specifically made to go through human skin and tissue with ease and as little pain once in as possible.

Connor nodded but kept his mouth open for Gavin's inspection. He couldn't help the startled chuckle when Gavin looked at the fangs from every angle he could, trying to see if it was somehow fake. "There's literally no way this is actually happening. I must be fucking dreaming."

"Ah, you're not. Though I can have someone come and make you forget this, you won't remember anything from the moment you got into the bathroom." He knew for a fact at least two fae and probably a warlock worked at the DPD as well. They weren't necessarily friends but he knew he could call them if need be.

"Um, no thanks. I'd like to remember the fact that you're a fucking vampire. Like the hell?" Gavin let go of Connor's face and crossed his arms. "Are there more of you?"

What was he supposed to say? It wasn't like anyone had found out about his secret fully before. Sure, some had been suspicious but nothing like this. He never let it get this far. "Um, yeah? I don't know how many, though."

Maybe he could just leave out the rest of The Society and hope Gavin didn't ask. "Vampires aren't too common but we aren't too rare either. I know a few others but I haven't talked to some in like a hundred years or so, I should probably reach out." He really needed to stop talking.

Gavin's mouth dropped open and he stared blankly at Connor before blinking. "You're shitting me. You're over a hundred years old."

"I um, I'm 722 years old." God, he felt old just saying that but compared to others in The Society he was actually young. The others in it all had tendencies to live very long lives from their natural magic.

Gavin ran a hand over his face and groaned. "Of course you are. Damn, do you actually kill people? Wait, shit were you going to kill me?"

"No!" Connor put his hands up quickly. "I swear we don't kill people. Or at least most of us don't, there's always the bad apple. But I swear I didn't even mean for them to come out, I uh got excited and you smell really good and I'm really fucking hungry. I'm so sorry." Great now he was rambling. He was going to have to wipe Gavin's memory at this point. No way in hell he could get around it.

Gavin stared at him once again and Connor winced. His teeth still ached but he kept himself rooted in the spot. He'd never drink from an unwilling human, that was a major taboo and a line he would never cross. Bt fuck if Gavin didn't smell good.

"It won't kill me?" Gavin finally asked. Connor frowned but shook his head. "And you're hungry, and I smell good? Like in the blood way or like nice cologne dude way?"

"I am, I've been low for a bit, and both? I don't know why but you've always smelled really good. I'm so sorry, that's weird." It was genuinely impolite to talk about a person's blood, like how you don't point out if someone has a pimple.

Gavin hummed and nodded his head before moving back and pushing himself back up onto the counter. He tilted his head to the side and smirked at Connor. "Then bite me."

"Wait, what?" There was no way in hell he heard that right. There was absolutely no way Gavin Reed wanted him to actually bite and suck his blood. Connor hadn't even told him the benefits (or side effects depending on who you talked to) of being bitten. The problems that could come with.

"I said, bite me. You're hungry, I'm willing and honestly, it's kinda hot. So just do it." The way Gavin stared him down left no room for questioning. He actually wanted this, and from the looks of it was very interested.

Connor slowly moved forward, looking for any sign of unease or doubt, but Gavin only tilted his head farther to the side. "I should warn you about the effects." He mumbled, eyes now fully trained on the softness of Gavin's neck.

He ran his fingers over the skin, feeling the strong and fast heartbeat, the blood flowing quickly. He leaned forward and let himself fully sniff, nuzzling into the skin slightly before panting. "It can cause calmness and uh… it can act as an aphrodisiac." He kissed the skin and felt Gavin shutter under him.

He lapped at the skin for a second before dragging his fangs over the skin, not hard enough to draw blood yet. "I won't do this unless you tell me I absolutely can even knowing what it can do to you." It wasn't like they had contracts humans could fill as a consent form, but he kinda wishes there was. Maybe one day if The Society ever decided to stop hiding in plain sight.

Gavin huffed and reached up, grabbing a fistful of Connor's hair and yanking. "I said, fucking bite me you bitch."

Connor whined at the pain but his eyes fluttered shut for a second before he nodded. He gently took Gavin's neck in his hand, giving it a slow soft squeeze. He had him at such a good angle, so soft and pliant.

He finally let his fangs drag over the spot where Gavin's heartbeat was the strongest then bit down in one fluid motion.

Gavin gasped and his hips bucked forward into Connor, and it only caused him to bite deeper. The first taste of blood had Connor's mind reeling. It was as good as it smelled and he drank slowly, savoring every last drop.

He could feel all of Gavin's muscles start to relax under his hands, and he quickly put his arms around him to keep him up. Yet Gavin seemed to be trying to get closer, and Connor growled deep in his throat.

"Fuck yes, this feels so good." Gavin mumbled, and Connor couldn't help but agree. He could feel his strength slowly returning and his senses heightened to their peek yet he didn't release yet. "Keep going, please Con."

He didn't have to be told twice. He made sure not to suck too much too fast, not needing Gavin to get light-headed, but the side effects of being bit would also help with that. It would make sure Gavin would quickly replenish his own blood naturally. Yay for evolution.

Connor moved a hand down again and felt Gavin completely hard under his hand. He licked at the skin as much as he could as he drank. He'd never tasted anything this wonderful in his very long life.

He slowly slid his fangs out once he had enough and was sure it wasn't too much for Gavin either. He licked at the wounds and watched as they slowly healed over only leaving what looked to be a normal hickey. "Thank you."

Gavin whined and moved to crush their lips together. Connor didn't even have time to retract his fangs before Gavin's tongue was pushing into his mouth and dragging along the tips.

Connor froze for a second before melting into it, letting Gavin explore and play all he wanted. He fumbled at Gavin supple for a second before gently picking him up with one hand and sliding Gavin's pants and underwear down.

Gavin let out a squeak but his pupils were blown wide. "Holy shit, you did that like it was nothing. Like I didn't weigh anything!"

"That's because to me you don't, you're as light as a feather." He smirked at the look of pure lust on Gavin's face. He had no idea the human would love this so much but fuck if he wasn't happy that he did. It was like his first feeding all over again with the amount of pure energy that raged inside him.

"That's so unfair." Gavin sighed but quickly snapped his mouth closed as Connor took him in hand. "Ah! God that feels good."

Connor chuckled and circled the head with his thumb before dragging his hand down then snapping it back up. He leaned forward and licked over and kissed every inch of Gavin's throat possible, letting his fangs scrape against the skin.

Then he let go and crouched down, nipping at the insides of Gavin's thighs. "Oh fuck!" The man cursed hands going into Connor's hair again. "Shit, just like that Con."

Connor looked up and grinned widely at him before sliding his teeth back in and licking his lips.

He saw the look of absolute shock as Connor's lips wrapped around the head of his cock. Gavin's body arched and pushed himself deeper into Connor's mouth who took it without complaint. Connor sucked, swirling his tongue as he pulled off before enveloping Gavin's cock in the heat of his mouth again.

He tastes so good even like this, he loved the way the man squirmed and pulled at Connor's hair. He loved the choked sounds he made and the moans and curses. Each little sound filling the bathroom and echoing around them.

Connor sucked his cock all the way to the back of his throat in one fluid motion, sliding down on his cock until his lips touched Gavin's abdomen.

"Fuck, I'm close!" Gavin hissed and Connor quickly pulled back with a wet pop. "Hey! Fuck why'd you stop, you ass?"

Connor hummed and pretended to think for a second. "Well, I wanted to see if you could come from me biting you, but I guess I can go back to this if you want."

Gavin's eyes widened considerably and Connor had to hide his smirk. "Oh fuck you, get your pointy ass teeth back up here. I sure as hell can come from that."

Connor gladly complied, moving back up before glancing down at himself. "Let me take this off so it doesn't get dirty." He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and slid his pants down, palming himself for a second. "You're so beautiful." He mumbled.

Gavin whined and reached forward, hands moving over Connor's warm skin. "Fuck you, you're gorgeous. Is that part of being a vampire too?"

"Ah, most of us are more…Attractive to lure people in but I was born like this. Most of us just look normal now from evolution." The hands on his chest were so distracting he struggled to get his words out.

"Still not fair, now are you going to bite me or what?" Gavin asked, pulling Connor flush against him.

Connor opened his mouth and let Gavin watched as his fangs came out. "I won't suck any more blood, though. Too much too fast can be dangerous and lead to passing out or other effects." It was like damn medication commercials, he felt like he needed to list every possible negative effect just in case.

"I really couldn't give two shits right now." Connor nodded and tilted Gavin's head so he'd bite on the side he hasn't done before. The bite areas were always a bit sensitive afterward and he didn't want to push it too far.

He grabbed Gavin again and quickly pumped his fist, not warning Gavin this time before biting down. Gavin jolted forward and let out a silent scream, fingers scrapping down Connor's back hard enough to leave angry red marks.

Connor hissed and rocked his hips forward, but kept pumping his hand, not even caring that his hand and stomach was becoming a sticky mess.

He kept there until Gavin went completely limp in his arms, panting against his neck. He once again licked over the area, just to make sure it would heal before pressing a gentle kiss to it. "So good, Gavin. Did so good for me."

Gavin mumbled something Connor couldn't understand, but it didn't matter. He had Gavin in his arms and he hadn't run screaming when he saw his fangs. Oh my god, he'd made Gavin come, actually come, from biting him.

"I think I have a new kink." Gavin sighed out before pulling back slightly to see Connor, a lazy smile on his face. "That felt way too good. If you… if you ever need to uh, drink?" Connor gave a small nod. "Ok, if you ever need to drink, I'm so fucking down."

Connor's eyes widened at the offer. "Are you sure? I'll have to, well it's not like we have an actual government but no one can know. No humans are supposed to know. I'm supposed to wipe your memory." He hated the idea, he didn't want Gavin to forget.

"I won't tell, I promise. Not like anyone would believe me anyway. But I'm sure. Though, I do believe I should return the favor." Gavin glanced down at Connor's still hard cock. "Would you like me to take care of that for you?"

"God yes." Connor sighed out, sliding his teeth back in.

"Don't put those away just yet, I like them out." Gavin said, tapping Connor's lips. "Who knows, I might just want to get bitten again."

37 notes · View notes

aedelia · 5 years ago

Text

The Best Gifts

How do you thank someone for not only saving your friends and family’s lives, but your future too? Saying it is a good start, but Danny thinks a gift would be nice too.

Danny was bored. He was beyond bored actually. Two days into Spring Break and he has nothing to do. Sam and her family were off on a trip to somewhere in Europe. Tucker has relatives visiting and can't hang out, and Jazz has practically been living in the library to work on some big senior project that will be due when school gets back. Even his parents were gone, some exclusive paranormal conference in New York, and they wouldn't be back until the weekend.

Danny heaved a heavy sigh. No ghosts had attacked for the last four days and now knowing the value of good time management, he had already managed to finish all of his schoolwork. He listlessly tapped his fingers against the kitchen table where he was seated. Playing Doomed solo was an option, but it's nowhere near as fun by himself, and it feels weird to play video games so early in the day. He got up from his seat and paced for a bit. He could go flying, but he didn't want to tempt the peace or any ghosts hanging about. He stopped and drank a whole glass of water just for something to do. Hydration is important, right? He resumed his pacing for several more minutes, wracking his brain for any ideas that could interest him. He would work on a model rocket, but he had finished the one he got for Christmas over winter break.

He stopped in front of the fridge and glanced at the clock on the wall, it's not too early for lunch. He grabbed a box of saltines out of the cupboard and pulled out a handful. Setting the box back on the counter he eased open the fridge door.

"Hey guys, I have a nice snack for you." he said as he checked for any loose ectoweenies. He couldn't help the sad noise that escaped him when he saw the plate with last night's leftovers had been cleaned bare. At least one weenie must have gotten out of the drawer. He placed a cracker on the plate to lure the escapee from hiding. Small, high-pitched growls greeted him as he slid the duct taped drawer open a couple of inches and sprinkled crushed saltine in the gap.

The ectoweenies were kind of cute when they weren't eating his lunch. Jazz was by far the best cook in the family and he had been looking forward to enjoying the meatloaf again for lunch. His musings were interrupted by tiny crunching sounds. "Aha!" he exclaimed as he snatched the miscreant up off of the plate.

"You've had enough of an adventure, time to go back home," he dropped the weenie through the open gap in the drawer. "Ouch!" he yelped as it managed to bite his thumb on the way down. Danny pouted as he stuck his thumb in his mouth to suck on the bite. The returned weenie was growling its story to the others as he toed the drawer closed before using his free hand to reseal the duct tape.

"For some reason, I'm not that hungry anymore..." Danny muttered as he inspected his thumb. Thank goodness for supernatural healing, what was a bleeding cut a moment ago was already reduced to a light pink line.

Danny resumed his pacing for a moment before sitting back down at the table. He rested his chin on his arms as he watched the seconds tick by on the clock.

‘I have so much time and all I can think of doing is watching the clock tick.’ He mused on the irony of trying to make time and when he finally has some, he can hardly use it.

‘I wonder what Clockwork does when he isn’t pretending to try to kill me. To think that he had planned for us to try to escape to the future to see Dan in order to set me on the path of overcoming that future.’ He frowned, ‘Even then I didn’t actually make it in time to save anyone. It was really nice of Clockwork to not only save them, but to set me further back afterwards so that I could keep my secret and do some damage control. I didn’t even get a chance to thank him for his help.’ He rose to his feet and started pacing once more. “I really should thank him. I think I remember where his lair is. It might take an hour or two of flying if nothing interferes… Should I just show up? That seems kind’ve rude. Maybe I should get him a gift? Thanks for saving my family and friends, and you know, not killing me when you could have. Yeah I should definitely bring a gift, that would be the polite thing when just showing up at someone’s home.” His pacing slowed as his thoughts deepened.

“But what gift do you give the ghost who can control time? And also saved you and your family from terrible fates... He said time is like a parade that he watches from above but it was more like he was helping to direct the parade than just watching.” Danny grinned in delight as inspiration struck, “I know the perfect thing!” he said as he dashed out the door at a quarter to eleven, patting his pocket to check for his wallet as he went.

-----

A quick scooter ride later and he was at the outlet stores by the mall. He looked fondly at the video game store before parking his scooter and walking into the music store. He browsed around the aisles, poking at one or two of the display instruments. ‘I remember when we came here so Jazz could pick an instrument in Middle School; I don’t think she’s played since then.’

When the lady at the desk finished with her short line of customers (mostly band kids buying reeds or random accessories), Danny popped out from the shelves to ask her, “Hey, do you guys have the kind of baton that bands use in parades? I’m looking for a gift for a conductor I know.”

She pursed her lips in thought before sliding her chair over to her computer next to the register. “Hang on; let me see if we have anything like that in stock.” Danny tried to keep from fidgeting as she spent a couple of minutes typing and clicking away at the computer. He was trying to decide whether or not to scratch his nose when she turned back to him.

“So we don’t have anything like that in the store right now. You could special order one if you’d like but that would take a while and unless you wanted a gag gift, would be pretty expensive…” At his crestfallen expression she continued, “However, if you would like to get your conductor friend a conducting baton, a good quality one runes about $20-30 and we have a nice selection I can show you.”

Danny’s face lit up, “It’s not my first idea, but that would be just as good!” The store clerk smiled at him and standing from her computer chair, she led him to one of the display cases by the register.

“These are arranged by price and material. This side is the lower end and is mostly fiberglass and cheaper wood or rubber,” she said, gesturing to Danny’s left, “and these are the nicer, more durable ones to your right. My favorite is the rosewood style right there.” She pointed to a medium priced baton with a nice reddish wooden bulb.

“Tell you what, since this is for a gift, if you get one of the wooden ones I’ll engrave a name for you for free.”

Danny grinned at her, “That rosewood one you pointed out would be great! For the name, could you put it as Clockwork?”

She smiled back at him and chuckled a little, “As in, when they’re conducting everything runs like clockwork?”

“Yeah kinda like that, it’s a nickname, so could you capitalize the C?”

“Of course, that’ll be $25.96 after tax.”

Danny paid her and watched as she pulled a slim case from below the counter. She popped the end cap off and pulled out the new baton.

“Looks to be in perfect shape, give me a minute and I’ll have the name engraved for you.” She picked up a small tool slightly thicker and longer than a pen and flipped a switch on the side. A low buzzing filled Danny’s ears as she carefully engraved the name on the shaft in neat handwriting. The tip of her tongue was sticking out of her mouth as she concentrated. She flipped the tool off and stowed it out of sight before blowing on the engraving to help cool it and to remove any dust. She waved it a couple of times before neatly sliding it back into the case and handing it to him.

“There you go, one personalized baton for your friend!” she chirped.

“Thank you so much, I’m sure he’ll like it!” Danny effused before heading out the door with a wave to the friendly salesperson. He retrieved his scooter and helmet and headed back to Fentonworks. The whole trip only took about half an hour.

-----

Once back at home, Danny stowed his scooter and made a quick stop back in the kitchen. He slapped together a peanut butter sandwich so he wouldn’t have to deal with the ectoweenies again. He scarfed it and washed it down with another glass of water.

“Ok!” he said, talking aloud to help psyche himself up. “I should leave a note for Jazz somewhere in case I’m out when she gets home, and then I need to store the gift in my ghost space pocket so I don’t lose it on the trip. I think that’s everything,” he said with his arms crossed and tapping his fingers against his elbow. He nodded and then reached for the notepad next to the fridge to write out a quick note for his sister.

‘Hey Jazz, I’m going for a visit to see Clockwork, he’s the guy who helped me out during the CAT stuff. Nothing is wrong. I’m going to thank him and probably visit for a bit. Don’t know how long it’ll take but don’t worry if I’m not home yet.’

“She’ll probably still worry and tell me that it’s her job as my big sister, but at least she’ll know I wasn’t kidnapped or something. This should keep her from looking for me too. She’s not going to go searching for me in the ghost zone unless I’m gone a really long time.”

He put the note in the middle of the table then grabbed the gift and lightly skipped down the stairs to the lab. A quick flash of light and Danny tucked the slim case into the special space pocket where he normally keeps his thermos and cell phone. Discovering that ability had made his ghost fighting a lot simpler, no more racing to his locker to grab a thermos or trying to discreetly pull it from his bag when he says he’s going to the bathroom. He still keeps a spare in his locker and under his bed. Sam and Tucker both keep a few too. It never hurts to be prepared, especially when it comes to ghost fighting.

He pulled off his glove and unlocked the portal. It was kind’ve funny that his DNA was still recognizable to the Fenton scanner in ghost form. After pulling his glove back on, he slipped through the portal and was on his way.

-----

Danny hummed cheerfully as he flew through the green and purple mists of the ghost zone. He had been so bored, but he found the perfect thing to do! Even better, since his parents weren’t home, he won’t have to worry about being locked in the zone.

He did a loop and waved at some cute blob ghosts before significantly increasing his speed. ‘I might be able to shave off some of my travel time if I fly near top speed, it’ll be good exercise too.’

Danny continued to increase his flight speed until his surroundings blurred and he weaved among the floating islands, rocks, and other debris with minute adjustments to his path. Amazingly enough, he didn’t encounter any ghosts itching for a fight. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m in the Zone, most ghosts that come through the portal have some sort of goal. Most in the Ghost Zone just want to be left alone. It could also be partly the speed I’ve been going, harder for anyone to try to fight me if I’m already gone by time they notice me.’

He slowed his pace down as the floating gears that fill the space near Clockwork’s lair began to appear. ‘I wonder where all these gears come from. He does have a lot of clocks. Maybe he used to have more? I can always ask him later if the visit goes well.’ Danny gently touched down in front of the large door to the lair. He took a deep breath, thinking, ‘I hope he doesn’t mind a visit. Of course he probably already knows I’m coming here, but still.’ and then firmly clanged the doorknocker.

A few seconds passed and then Clockwork opened the door with a slight smile, “Daniel. Please come in.,” he said while beckoning with his free arm.

“I hope it’s ok that I just showed up.” Danny said as he stepped into Clockwork’s lair for the second time.

“It’s perfectly alright. You are welcome here Daniel, I can always make time for you.” Clockwork replied as he closed the door behind them.

‘Did he just make a pun?’ Danny wondered, pausing in his surprise before following Clockwork into a lounge area that he hadn’t seen on his initial visit. ‘Not that I really had much time to look around with everything going on and Clockwork manipulating us for a better future. On the subject of that diverted timeline, I shouldn’t forget what brought me here in the first place.’

Clockwork, currently in adult form, had stopped and was now floating by a flat gear suspended at coffee table height.

“Clockwork,” Danny said, “I really want to thank you for your help with that horrible future. I really appreciate that not only did you save my friends and family; you also gave me a second chance to fix my relationship with Mr. Lancer about the cheating thing. He let me retake the test and actually let me study for it during detentions. He even answered questions that I had about the material!” Danny paused to take a breath, “To show my gratitude for your help and to say thank you for giving me a chance, I got this for you.” He rotated his arm slightly to reach into his sub-pocket and pulled out the slim case holding the engraved baton.

As he handed it to Clockwork he said, “It’s not much but I was thinking about how you said you see time like a parade that you’re watching from above, it felt more like you were directing the parade a bit and I’m really glad you kept it from marching off a cliff…” Danny trailed off, halting his ramblings as Clockwork opened the case and gently withdrew the baton. He phased to his older form as he lightly ran his gloved fingers over the engraving of his name.

“It is a lovely gift, thank you Daniel. It is very thoughtful and especially fitting in your case. I will cherish it.,” he said as he slid it into an invisible pocket up his sleeve. “I am glad that you decided to come by. Due to my actions on your behalf, I have been given charge and responsibility for you. Think of me as your ghostly guardian, or mentor. You should feel free to visit me anytime, whether you have questions, are looking for advice, or just want to spend time in a safe place. Cookie?” he offered as he switched to his child form.

Danny was sure his jaw was hanging loose as Clockwork finished informing him of their new potential relationship. Given that he was currently in ghost form, that could be a lot more literal than normal. He was still trying to process this bombshell when his whole train of thought derailed at the sight of the cookie that Clockwork was holding out to him.

“That cookie is green. And glowing.” he said as he cautiously reached out for it.

“Of course it is, “Clockwork replied, “The flour was soaked in raw ectoplasm before it was baked.”

Danny looked slightly repulsed but curious as he examined the cookie now in his hand, “Is it safe for me to eat?” he asked.

“Yes it is, and actually, on the subject of nutrition,” Clockwork said, phasing back to his adult form once again, “You need to increase your ectoplasm intake if you want to remain healthy while using your powers. The easiest ways for you to do this would be to accept it into your diet, such as with these cookies,” he gestured towards the still uneaten cookie in Danny’s hand, “or you can absorb ambient energy from spending time in the Ghost Zone.”

“Wow, you’re being a lot more straight forward now than when you helped save the future.” Danny remarked.

“When I helped you, my hands were tied by my employers; they wanted me to eliminate you instead of solving the root of the problem. Now that I have responsibility for both you and the alternate phantom, I am able to directly advise you when you have a problem as opposed to the convoluted run around that was necessary to keep the Observants from interfering further.” He shifted to his elder form and concluded with, “Maybe they wouldn’t be so shortsighted if they had two eyes instead of just one.”

Danny smiled slightly at the dig at the pretentious eyeballs. He had encountered them a few times while exploring the zone but hadn’t known what their jobs were at the time. “I know I promised that I’ll never turn into Dan, and I’m planning on always keeping my promise! But, is there anything that I need to watch out for to keep everything on track?”

“Do not worry. The actions that you have taken and the choices that you have made have decisively prevented you from ever becoming Dan. You have committed yourself to doing what is right, and remember, Dan was not just you, he was a combination of Phantom and Plasmius. You have nothing to worry about as long as you keep going as you have been. Eat your cookie.”

Danny nibbled at his cookie and was surprised that it tasted really good to him. It was a sugar cookie with a lemon-lime aftertaste that somehow worked really well. As he finished the cookie, he realized that it satisfied a craving that he hadn’t realized he had. Like finally scratching an itch. Danny ate another ecto-cookie from the plate on the table as Clockwork looked on in his child form.

“So I can visit tomorrow too?” Danny asked.

“Of course you may Daniel, you are welcome here any,” he paused and smirked slightly, “…time.” he finished, shifting to adult form.

Danny grinned at him, Clockwork liked puns too! He floated over to the older ghost and tentatively reached for a hug. Clockwork did not hesitate in holding him tight and completing the embrace.

“You are a good and precious child; I already am anticipating your next visit. Unfortunately, you will need to be leaving soon if you do not want your sister to form a search party. She has finished early at the library and will be heading for home shortly.”

Danny hid his smile against Clockwork’s chest as he felt his hair being ruffled. The ticking of the clock under his cheek was comforting.

“Thank you again for saving my whole world. And thanks for the advice and the open invitation. I’ll definitely be visiting more this week.”

Clockwork gave Danny’s head a final pat before separating, “As long as you fly the same speed or faster going home as you did coming here, you will avoid any encounters and will make it home with plenty of time to reassure your sister and to tell her about your day.” Clockwork shifted to his elder form and with his characteristic smirk, stated, “Later Gator.”

Danny beamed with delight as they floated to the door.

“After a little while, Crocodile.”

“We’re far too gharialous for a traditional parting.”

It took Danny a moment to work gharial and garrulous apart before he could shoot back, “Caiman, these puns are getting old.”

Clockwork replied by waggling his eyebrows and shifting to his child form, “Actually, you will find that they are getting younger.”

Danny laughed and waved to his new mentor as he floated out into the ghost zone proper, “I’ll see you tomorrow, bye!” he shouted as he turned and sped off towards home.

Clockwork shut the door once Danny was out of sight and moved to his time viewing room where Danny flying home showed on the main screen. Some of the smaller screens floating off to the side showed him dropping the ecto-weenie back into the drawer in the refrigerator and eating dinner with his sister.

“There are some advantages to being the master of time, and taking care of such a wonderful and delightful child is definitely one of them. The puns are a bonus too.” he mused with a slight lisp and fingering the baton that he’d been gifted. He watched Danny talking to himself during his flight home.

“…and I should ask him where those gears around his lair come from tomorrow. Oh! And if the ectoplasmic contamination in Mom’s cooking is actually a good thing for me. I need to learn about more types of animals and things so I don’t run out of puns!” He was flying home with a huge smile.

-----

True to Clockwork’s words, Danny once again didn’t have any unfriendly encounters while he travelled. He had even managed to shave a couple more minutes off of his flight time! He slowed down as he approached the Fenton Portal and slipped through at normal speed. When he popped through he startled his sister where she was fiddling with some ghost hunting gadgets. “Danny!” she yelled, dropping a Fenton Thermos and some miscellaneous inventions that didn’t actually do anything. She threw her arms around him as he transformed back to human form. “I read your note but I was starting to get worried! I finished early at the library so that I could get dinner started.”

Danny gave her a quick hug back before responding, “I’m fine. Actually, I’m way better than fine! I’ll tell you all about it upstairs, do you think you could make meatloaf again? An ectoweenie ate all of the leftovers.”

His sister ruffled his wind-swept hair before tugging him towards the stairs. “Of course, little brother, I’m so glad that you had a good day and weren’t just playing video games or bored the whole time.” They headed upstairs together and Danny started off his story, “So I was really bored this morning. Incredibly bored. Then I got the perfect idea…”

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augmented-beauty · 5 years ago

Text

Deus Ex OC profile 2.0

I found myself being extremely creative lately, and here we are. Here follows a long, more detailed profile of my dear baby, Alexandra. And yet, it still scratches the surface of her story, as I don’t want to spoil too much.

Art by the amazing @mrs-chief yes, I’m still spamming it because I’m just too in love with this piece, no matter how many months have passed already.

Full name: Alexandra Maribel Montgomery Rivera

Date and place of birth: July 14, 1999, Detroit

Augmentations: eyes (Smart vision with Fine Transmitter Tuning, flash suppressant, retinal HUD), right arm (instant take-down, recoil compensation (full level), optimized musculature, punch through Wall, aim stabilizer, nanoblade, Tesla system, custom-made emergency button to rapidly release her ammo), Info Link.

Moral Alignment: Neutral good. Extremely loyal, Alexandra respects the authorities and she does not consider herself above law, but she believes that protocols and orders sometimes have to be ignored to do what is right. She usually doesn’t kill her enemies or opponents, but she won’t hesitate to pull the trigger to protect loved ones and when there’s no other way out.

Alex is extremely loyal and devoted to her loved ones. Empathetic, extrovert, joyful, supportive, respectful and kind, it’s extremely easy to get on at least decently with her, but it’s still quite difficult to gain her trust. Open-minded and strong principled. Realistic, but she always tries to see the brighter side. She never gets too influenced by others, but she has some role models and people that admires deeply. Sometimes anger takes advantage of her, and she can be aggressive at times. Usually, her disappointment is expressed by sassy remarks.

Hobbies: singing and songwriting, videomaking, dancing

Family and life events

Her mother is Cuban, born in Havana, and moved to the USA to study and work. Her father, Koa, is a half Samoan-American (hapa) SWAT agent, born and raised in Detroit, but always visits Hawaii regularly. Her Hawaiian grandfather, Keoni, moved in Detroit in search of more job opportunities, while her grandmother is a white woman born in Detroit, disowned because of her will to marry a black man. They later moved back to Hawaii after retirement. Alex also has a younger sister, Isabelle Ignacia, former member of a Sarif’s research team. She has an excellent relationship with her family. Her parents, grandparents and sister are extremely supportive.

The two sisters suffer from Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP), a genetic, degenerative disease that slowly drags the patient into blindness. Luckily, both of them were able to access the needed augmentations as this technology started to become more common. Alexandra was the first one to get her augs back in 2018, agreeing to take part in a Sarif Industries initiative. Isabelle gets her own after a couple of years. Both their surgeries are successful, and the two sisters don’t really need to worry about their syndrome anymore. While Isabelle sticks to regular updates meant for a civilian as technology improves, Alex is more daring. In 2027, after debating about it for a while, thanks to her job, she gets some military upgrades.

Following her father’s footsteps, Alex applied for Police Academy after getting her Bachelor degree. That’s when she meets Adam, just days after her training at the Academy starts. Their meeting was almost a lucky coincidence: Alex was meant to have lunch with her father, but Adam was free, too. Koa thought it was the perfect occasion to have the two of them finally getting to know each other. He always had a good consideration of Adam, and Alex has heard of him before, multiple times. On the other hand, Adam has heard a lot about Alexandra, as Koa was always very proud of his daughter and all her achievements.

As her career progresses, Alexandra ends up in a relationship with Michael, who she has been knowing since college. The two of them both enrolled with DPD after their degree and ended up in Academy together as well. After graduating from Academy and after two abundant years of active service, Alexandra takes a step further and gets her training to join the SWAT division, with the support of her father and Adam, who both give her some help and tips when needed. Her career at DPD is brilliant, even though she never got the chance to become a commander herself.

Meanwhile, her sister studies hard and manages to get her dream job at Sarif Industries, and is assigned to Megan Reed’s team. There, Isabelle meets Faridah Malik and Francis Pritchard and introduces them to Alex. They both become some of the closest friends of the two sisters. For Alex and Isabelle, they’re more like siblings in bond.

Her life is relatively calm and peaceful until 2027 comes. The attack at Sarif Industries has her all over the place. Luckily, Isabelle wasn’t working that day, but what happened to Adam hits her and raises her stress levels. For months, Alex keeps worrying about her younger sister’s safety, and for Adam’s mental and physical health. Michael helps her a lot during this time, supporting her in every selfless action of hers. He’s not as close with Adam as Alex is, but still tries to support him, too. Some weight seems to be lifted from her shoulders when Adam is back in the saddle again, but six months after the first attack at SI, the same people responsible for what happened that day try to kidnap Isabelle, too. But once again, they fail, also thanks to Adam’s investigations and his right-on-time rescue. Some days after that, the Incident takes place. She’s off-duty and with Michael when the chaos starts to surround them. Alex didn’t get the new chip and is still sane. Even though they’re both off-duty, they end up inside a residential building, partially on fire, trying their best to aid some people stuck inside. A heavy augmented man, with heavy labour augs, is the current threat. Alexandra comes up with quite the reckless plan, acting as a living bait to give the chance to Michael to get those people safe. In that instant, there was no better option than that, it was only a matter of time. Things don’t really go as expected though. Alex gets badly stunned, and the man grabs her to throw her smaller body into the nearby flames. Michael barely makes it on time to save her, shooting the man, but there’s nothing he can do about her right arm, all he can do is extinguishing the fire. The pain is too much, and Alexandra is unconscious. Next thing she knows as she opens her eyes again, is that she’s in a hospital bed, with no right arm, and without Michael around. While doing everything to save her, he was badly injured and didn’t make it to the hospital, no matter how fast her father got there to pick them up. Her family also needs to let her know what happened in Panchaea, and that Adam is most probably dead.

The aftermath is pure hell. She went through one of the darkest times of her life. Lots of people that she called friends turned their backs to her only because of her second aug, guilt for Michael’s death ate her alive, and the whole process of rehab and the pain after the amputation were destroying her. Knowing that Adam was gone, too, made everything even worse. If it wasn’t for her family and closest friends, her mental health would have been extremely compromised.

The following months are all about recovery, and the support of her loved ones is crucial. Slowly, she gets back on track, regaining her inner fire, and coming back stronger than before. Her original songs and covers become a way for her to channel her emotions and to blow some steam off, even more than in the past, to give a message and raise awareness about what it really means to be augmented, and to, hopefully, bring some hope to augmented people like her. With time, an idea pestering the whole family becomes reality, and Montgomery Foundation is born. Based in Detroit, it’s meant to bring assistance to augmented people in desperate conditions, to raise awareness and to educate about what it means to be augmented, trying to stop the hatred. Alex and Isabelle put a lot of care into using the various social media channels to do this. Isabelle spreads awareness using her biomedical knowledge, while Alexandra insists more on the social, emotional side of the issue. This project also gives her the motivation and the inspiration to make some new content. This is not about music only anymore, Alex takes the chance to bring entertainment, too, as many have suggested her throughout the years. Her personality is perfect for this, and it could be a way to give more visibility to the Foundation and the activism that the whole family is carrying on.

Despite this new reality, Detroit is becoming unbearable. Once she can get back to work, things are not the same anymore. Alex can’t really see the point in being a cop anymore, not with all the violence and hatred that police brings upon augmented people. Most of her colleagues don’t fully trust her anymore, look at her like she was a walking death machine. Some don’t even try to hide their true feelings. The situation becomes more and more frustrating every day. But there’s a spark of hope in late 2028, one year after the incident: out of the blue, Adam is back in Detroit. It’s the key event that brings all her strength back, fully, after a year of struggles. Determined in helping him out, she has her first contact with Interpol’s Task Force 29. Jarreau agrees to have her taking part in their operation in Detroit as some sort of local aid agent, and is very impressed by her work. Before leaving, he suggests Alex to consider applying for Task Force 29, letting her know he wouldn’t mind to have her in Los Angeles.

As much as Detroit is testing her patience, Alexandra doesn’t leave immediately. She’s too concerned about the safety of her family, especially of her sister, and about the condition of the augmented people living in the former Sarif Industries area. Yet, Jarreau’s offer is tempting. It takes a while for her to even just start really considering such an option. Friends and family try to convince her for months, they know how this new job could benefit her. Adam, too, does his best to persuade her, giving her information, answering her questions about TF29; there’s no time zone that can stop him. It takes almost a year for Alex to finally decide to embrace this opportunity. DPD won’t let her go easily, though, no matter if they can only waste her potential, and her superiors manage to let her be a simple agent on trial. To officially become an Interpol agent, she will need to impress her superiors. The inconvenience doesn’t stop Alex, and she still sends her application to Interpol, to those terms. Instead of requesting to be part of the LA team, she applies for Prague’s team.

Alexandra’s intention is to move to Prague, to be by Adam’s side. In fact, after meeting him again almost a year before, she started to realise how her feelings for him went beyond friendship. Said epiphany only made her miss Adam more and more, making her want to run after a whole brand new start. She reaches Prague the day after Ruzicka’s bombing and is immediately thrown into action. Teamed up with Adam, she works on the bombing case and later takes part in London’s operation. Right after Apex Centre’s evens, Miller immediately gets to work to have Alexandra among his agents, and eventually, his efforts are successful. Things seem to be brighter for Alex from now on. She gets to spend more time with Adam, just like old times, and they get closer and closer, as close as never before. Their relationship gets deeper and deeper day by day and after a relatively short time, they end up together, from friends to lovers.

#deus ex #deus ex oc #deus ex human revolution #deus ex blacklight #deus ex mankind divided #alexandra montgomery #alexandra maribel montgomery #long post

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