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mandareeboo · 4 months

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Unfinished Work #60: "Untitled" (Finished)

I never felt up to publishing this, but I've been rewatching BoJack and felt it'd be good to put here! A little goodbye to an old friend between Hollyhock and Diane.

Title: N/A

Summary: N/A

"Sorry about this," the horse said. "You're probably really busy with writer things."

"You wanna know what I was going to do before coming out on the porch to have a smoke and chat with you?" Diane asked dryly. "I was about ten seconds away from telling my husband I was going out onto the porch to have a smoke. It's not even half the inconvenience you think it is."

"Oh," she responded, and fell silent.

Diane let out a gust of lung cancer in a long, drawn-out sigh. Texas is pretty in postcards but hotter than the sun in person, with the added bonus of all sorts of creepy crawlies straight out of the official nightmare catalogue, but it's kind of nice? There's trees everywhere. Lots of open, bumpy land. The spider currently weaving its web a few feet from her isn't even venomous- it's an orb weaver of some sort. All in all, better than death.

It'd be nicer if her company talked, though.

"Let me guess," Diane prompted, making her jump. "You're Hollyhock, right?"

"Bojack told you about me?" Hollyhock asked, ignoring her question.

"He told all his friends about you. He was really excited to have family he didn't loathe with all his being."

"Oh," she repeated, softer this time.

"Relax, you're not gonna end up on his wiki page or anything. And, for what it's worth, I'm really happy to meet you in person. You're shorter than I thought you'd be."

Hollyhock looked at her hands, where her phone was situated, then back at Diane. "Bojack's told me about you, too. He talked a lot about a lot of things, but you especially."

"And that made you think I had answers?"

She shrugged helplessly.

Diane took another drag. "You want the truth? He's an asshole. Whatever you feel or suspect about him is absolutely vindicated."

"Yeah." she said. "But I miss him anyway. Isn't that... awful?"

"No? I don't think it is. I mean, the part that sucks about people is that they're more than just one thing. Sure, Bojack is a sleezy, emotionally-abusive jerk who's slept with almost every woman he's ever met, but he also sends stupid little text messages about stuff he saw on his drive home, and one time when he got drunk he sang the lollipop song and it was actually the prettiest thing ever, and he helps you pack even though he complains the whole time. He's all that shit."

"He once threw his mom's doll out a window."

"I know. He told me."

"He did?"

"He's always drunk-dialed me. Fifteen years now, and I'm his drunk-dial SOS." Diane considered her cigarette a moment. It was her first one of the day. A new record low. "I never met her, but I spoke to Beatrice twice- for his book."

"Oh, yeah, that thing. I never read it?"

"It sold alright, but it wasn't the next great American novel. Anyway, I called the retirement home to get a statement- got the phone number off of Bojack's long-time manager and friend Princess Carolyn- and called. This was before the dementia really ate up her brain- think, I dunno, almost nine years before you knew her- and she was still pretty sharp. I said, 'hi, this is Diane Nyguyen, I'm ghost-writing a novel about your son, Bojack' and she said, 'what, is he too lazy to write it himself'?"

Hollyhock winced. "Woof."

"Oh, I'm just getting started." Diane flicked some ash away. "We went in circles a bit, but eventually I laid it out for her. 'Mrs. Horseman', I said, 'I'm writing about your son's life, and as such I have called to see if you had any note-worthy stories or quotes you'd like to add'. She was pretty quiet for a minute. Then she said, 'sure, why not, I'm dying anyway. Might as well debase myself even more.' She told me all about her husband, Butterscotch-"

"Bojack never said much about him."

"There wasn't much to say, honestly. Bojack took after him and he always hated himself for it. Beatrice despised her husband for being unfaithful, bitter, and sexist. And she told me, 'now, put this in your little book, girl, and put it word-for-word. Bojack took after him, but he had the sense to be a bit quieter about it; which is a bit like saying the hissing roach is less disturbing to the eyes than the American one because it eats leaves instead of garbage. They're both insects, and they're both a waste of the paper their books were written on'." She paused. "Gotta say, she was damn eloquent."

Hollyhock winced again. "Double woof."

"It's the one story I never put into One Trick Pony. Not because I thought she'd regret saying it, or because it wouldn't fit the tone of the book, but because I knew it'd rip Bojack apart. Even back then, I was putting him above my own job. He has a way of worming into things like that." Diane stamped out the rest of the smoke, then pulled out another one. "I used to smoke like a freight train, but now it's only when I get worked up. Sorry about the second-hand."

Hollyhock was quiet again, but this time it was more pensive than anything else. "I... wrote him a letter. I actually don't even know if he read it, because he kept sending me voicemails telling me he would, but he never told me he did before I changed my number. I thought it'd be over. I thought I was moving on, but..."

"Moving on isn't the same as moving away," Diane said. "Trust me. I've packed houses before. But even now, I still find myself looking for him in the news, or thinking back to the good times we had."

"Mhmm. He tried to learn sports for me, you know? Because he wanted to cheer me on. And that still means a lot to me. But then I remember that interview, and I just... I just can't do it. I can't talk to someone who's done stuff like that."

"That's completely in your right! I know you're a grown-up, but you're still pretty young, you know? Bojack's in his fifties. His problems shouldn't be on anyone, but they especially shouldn't be on you."

"You won't tell him I came, will you? I know you're friends, but..."

"I think your definition of friendship is a bit different from us, kiddo. I mean, we haven't spoken in almost a year now. I just go see his movies, and he sends me long rambling reviews about my books, and we follow each other on social media."

"That feels like friendship," she concurred. "Mrs. Nyguyen?"

"God, don't. Diane."

"Diane. Did you and Bojack….?"

"Nope. But not because he didn't want to. I was dating when we first met, and married a good chunk of the time I lived in L.A. Now I'm married again. If I hadn't been... well, he would've tried, if nothing else."

"And you?"

She pursed her lips. "There was a time where I lived in his house and spent every day getting shitfaced drunk, and nothing skeevy happened. He'd come home, I'd be drunk and when was Bojack not drunk? We'd drink more and we'd watch reruns of Horsin' Around. I liked that. It wasn't healthy, but I liked it. And I liked him. I try not to think too hard about it, but... I dunno, honestly."

Hollyhock pulled her knees to her chest. "I came here hoping to find a way to stop missing him. Now I just miss him even more? I hate emotions."

Diane smiled. It was bittersweet. "Now you sound like a true Horseman."

#BoJack Horseman #BH Fanfic #BH Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Diane Nguyen #Hollyhock Manheim Mannheim Guerrero Robinson Zilberschlag Hsung Fonzerelli McQuack #Unfinished Work

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stunticonbreakdown · 3 months

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I think people should consider more ideas about why Breakdown and Bulkhead hate each other so much that isn't "Breakdown betrayed the Wreckers" because there are so many more things that could have happened, and here are some of my ideas:

>They fought 1v1 once because Breakdown was just being Breakdown, but after being beat, he kept trying to win against Bulkhead, starting a rivalry between the two.

>Breakdown wants to kill every one of the Wreckers but this one guy just won't die and he has to stick to his list of Wreckers in the order he wrote them in.

>Following up from that, Breakdown killing several of the canonically deceased Wreckers mentioned by Wheeljack and Bulkhead in Prime, making Bulkhead want to avenge their deaths.

>Cross-faction dating gone wrong (**not clickbait**)

>Secretly started meeting up as buddies during the war, but then Bulkhead found out about messed up shit Breakdown had done and they started to fight as enemies rather than secret friends.

>Met each other during a heated Autobot-Decepticon bar fight. Then they saw each other on the battlefield and beat each other up again.

>Friends before the war and wanted to stay friends during the war despite being on opposite sides, but then once again, Bulkhead seeing the things Breakdown did during the war.

>A bit boring but most likely; Stunticons and Wreckers just being rival teams in the war. No personal feelings they all just hate each other because they're the same team on opposite sides.

#its so fun to think about personally #thinking about Bulk saying “we go way back. you wont believe the things hes done” to Miko #like did they meet when he was already doing this horrible stuff or before ?? hasbro why would you tell us this and just LEAVE IT #grrraaahhhhhhggh #more room for fanfiction i guess #but 90% of them are innacurate with BD either joining the autobota first and/or having his prime build #where's the fic where bd and bh meet at a bar and bd kills 9 people and bh decides maybe the cross faction friendship wasnt a good idea #breakdown #transformers #tfp breakdown #maccadams #bd rambles #bulkhead #tfp bulkhead #breakbulk #??#wreckers #Stunticons #transformers prime

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frost-queen · 1 year

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Watch hour (Reader x Connor/RK800)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex–awesome–22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07

You tapped loudly on your computer, hitting enter loudly. You then pushed your chair back, stretching your arms up above your head. – “Done!” – you squealed loud while stretching those muscles. Connor quirking his eyebrow up. You glanced at him, rolling your chair over to his desk. Connor startled by you setting your elbows down on his desk to smile sweetly at him. – “Say Connor how about we do something fun after work?” – you suggested.

Connor chuckled briefly, setting his elbows closer to yours. – “Define ‘fun’.” – he answered, his LED flickering yellow. It made you smirk. You were about to answer when your chief called out to you. – “Lieutenant Y/n!” – you sighed deep, getting up from your chair to greet him. – “Yes sir.” – you responded while Connor rechecked if his tie was still straight.

The chief was looking at some files barely looking your way. – “You are on watch hour.” – he informed you. – “Tonight?” – you questioned loudly. The chief tilting his head up. – “Yes, tonight, Lieutenant. Didn’t I make myself clear?” – he asked in a stern voice. – “Yes sir.” – you answered lowering your head. Connor’s LED flickering as he took in your behavior.

The chief went back in his office upstairs as you sighed loud letting yourself fall back in your chair. – “Sorry Connor looks like we’ll have to postpone ‘fun’ times.” – you told him bothered. Connor furrowing his brows while you gathered some files to stack.

“May… may I ask what watch hour is?” – he set his hand delicately on your desk. – “Boring stuff.” – you answered getting up to pack your things. Connor wasn’t clear on the answer. – “That is a very vague description, may I ask to specify it more so I can understand more what kind of work it requires.” – he asked again, eager to know. You took a deep breath, pausing your packing. – “It is just another word for surveillance watch.” – you informed him, looking for your keys in your bag.

“Basically all I have to do is sit in my car all night, observing the neighborhood and be on watch when there is a call.” – you continued, moving your bag over your shoulder. Connor shot up following you as you were set on leaving. – “Do… do you require my assistance?” – he asked coming to walk beside you. – “Oh Connor.” – you said coming briefly to a stop.

“I wouldn’t want to saddle you up with boring police work. I’m sure you have more important matters to attend then sitting in a car all night.” – looking over at him, you wondered what he would respond to it. He putted on a smile, moving his hand to his chest. – “I would be delighted to assist you in the matter. As your partner I believe it would be the best of interest if we handled this together.”

You chuckled. – “If you insist.” – you responded. Connor followed you to your car. – “I’m going to pick up a few things first before we start our shift.” – you told him getting behind the wheel. He gestured with his hand that it was alright. You drove away from the police station, riding into the cold Detroit air. Driving slow and safely as the snow was making the road slippery. You parked your car on the parking lot of an all open store.

“I’ll be right back.” – you told Connor as he nodded. The moment you left, he took out his coin, letting it flip in his hand to occupy himself. You were going through the aisles, taking stuff with you along the way. Smiling it sure was nice Connor was around. Otherwise it would be dreadfully boring to do watch hour. You always hated them as usually nothing happened. You returned to the car, knocking on the window to alert Connor. He caught his coin between his fingers, tugging it away before opening the door to your side.

You exhaled relieved coming to sit down, holding lot’s of things. – “I brought us coffee and snack enough to survive the night.” – you told him as Connor quirked up an eyebrow at the amount you bought. You started moving the items to the backseat, listing off what kind of snacks you bought. – “Are you already hungry?” – you asked him suddenly aware of what you said. – “Lieutenant.” – Connor spoke.

You started to laugh sheepishly at how silly you were. – “Oh sorry… I forgot for a moment you don’t require food. Apologies Connor.” – you said feeling a bit stupid. Connor smiled LED flickering. – “It is alright.” – he reassured you. You started the car once more, driving around the neighborhood. Connor looking observingly through the window while you drove. You took a round around the block. – “There. That would be a sufficient place to wait and surveillance. One point to keep in observation, the front while easily to ride off when an emergency is required of us.” – he said pointing to a place.

You drove over to it, parking the car. The lights dimmed as the silence took over. – “Now we wait.” – you said. Connor stared in front of him, patting his hands on his knees with a sturdy rhythm. You exhaled loud at how boring it already was and you had just started. You lowered yourself in your seat, crossing your arms annoyed. Connor peeked over at you, scanning you.

He concluded you were bothered. He moved in his seat more towards you. – “I detect you are bothered Lieutenant Y/n. Should I perhaps set on some music to ease your waiting?” – he offered already moving a hand to the radio. – “No!” – you called out, grabbing his hand to a stop. Connor’s LED flickering. – “If we turn on the radio, I won’t be able to hear anything coming through the walkie.” – you informed him.

“I see.” – Connor bowed his head, leaning back in his seat. You inhaled deep, turning your head to stare out of the window. Connor doing the same. Yet he couldn’t help himself but glance over at you. LED flickering yellow as he wondered what drew him so close to you. How it would be possible for him to feel a certain urge to keep you save at any cost.

He lowered his gaze to your hand that tapped a beat on your thigh with your fingers. Humming lowly. His LED still flickering as he wondered what might happen if he reached out to take it. What outcomes would present itself to him. How he could calculate it. Feeling brave he slowly reached for your hand, wanting to touch it. You gasped, startled pulling your hand back when Connor nearly touched it. Staring focused at the streets.

An alarm going off close by. You watched as a man stumbled out of a store carrying stolen goods. – “Thief!” – a woman screamed out in a panic. You shoved the door open as Connor was faster. Having come around the hood to run after the guy. Clenching your jaw, you went after Connor and the thief. Connor’s athletic body could easily keep up with him as you were slacking.

Panting out of breath, slowing down. – “Damn it!” – you mumbled out. You couldn’t slack now. Pushing yourself to keep running. You sighed exhausted seeing how easily Connor jumped over things. You knew you couldn’t do the same stunts Connor was doing so you had to come up with another plan. Taking a turn, moving away from Connor and the thief, you hoped to cut them off somewhere. If you kept going in the same direction. So hoping you weren’t making a stupid decision.

Huffing and puffing loud, you so hoped Connor might have already caught him. Going street in after street, you noticed you were making your way over to the bridge. – “I’ll… I’ll definitely ask for a raise after this.” – you told yourself as encouragement. You just weren’t built to do some tricky stunts like Connor did. Connor had taken a quick route as you needed to take the saver and slower route. The bridge was nearby as you rushed down the stairs, holding tight to the bar.

Jumping the few steps down, you couldn’t see any sight of Connor or the thief. Slowing a bit down, you looked from side to side. Perhaps you had just missed them. – “Look out!” – you heard before a firm force came crashing into you. The heavy weight pulling you down, making you groan in pain. The culprit had fallen upon you, bumping against you whilst looking over his shoulder at Connor speeding up.

Connor grabbed his arm, dragging him off you. – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked concerned, kneeling beside you. He held his finger up to you, seeing in the corner of his eye the thief was getting up, trying to take a run for it. – “Not so fast!” – Connor called out, grabbing him by the collar. The thief nearly choked, feeling the fabric of his collar push into his throat.

Connor pulled him down in search for handcuffs. He smiled seeing you offer them out of breath. With one smooth wink, he took the cuffs from you, putting it on the thief. Connor then helped you up to your feet, dusting your clothing off. – “Are you sure you are alright Y/n?” – he asked quickly scanning you for any pains. – “I’m fine Connor.” – you told him, moving your hand up to stop him from scanning you.

“Excellent work Lieutenant into capturing the thief.” – Connor complimented, pulling the thief up to his feet. You laughed. – “All I did was stand in the way.” – you answered. – “A sufficient way.” – he replied. You took a deep breath, walking over to the railing of the bridge. Snow falling down upon you. Connor turned his head staring in admiration at you.

“Should… should I return to the car and pick you up here so for your comfort?” – he asked dutiful. You smiled turning back to him with a shake of your head. – “I don’t mind the walk.” – you approached him, setting a hand on his chest. You let it slide off him as you started walking. Connor looking your way. He gave the thief a shove, forcing it to walk with him.

Holding the thief with one hand, he came walking beside you. Observing the movement of your hand beside your body very carefully. His LED flickering between blue and yellow. Debating if he should take it. He furrowed his brows slightly letting his hand sway beside his body. Moving a bit closer till the back of his hand brushed against yours.

It startled you for a second, hand flinching away. Connor tightened his expression taking your hand sturdily in his own. You chuckled at how strictly he demanded your hand. – “If you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve just asked.” – you told him slightly teasing. Connor chuckled nervously, a soft blue blush appearing on his cheeks.

The thief rolled his eyes with a loud groan. Connor’s LED flickering a bright red. – “No one asked you a thing!” – he called out, letting go of your hand to shove him. – “Alright whatever.” – the thief answered with a loud puff. Connor’s LED settled to a soft blue, taking your hand once more. – “It appears our watch hour was not that boring after all.” – Connor told you. – “Yeah.” – you answered.

“We did get to do something fun after all.” – letting your shoulder bump playfully against his. Connor smiling back at you. – “Sure pretend I am not here.” – the thief muttered out. Connor and you kept talking till you reached the car eventually. He put the thief in the back of the car, making sure he couldn’t take any of your bought goods. You went inside the store to inform the lady you had caught him and to return the stolen goods.

Connor shut the door, coming over to you. – “I’ll call for a patrol to come and take him so we can continue to be available at all times.” – you said to Connor. He nodded agreeing. – “Our night of watch hour is far from over. We still have exactly six more hours of us being on alert till the sun sets.” – Connor answered making you groan at how long it was going to take. He chuckled, LED flickering. – “I could always suggest to do something fun in the meantime.”

You furrowed your brows. – “What then?” – you questioned. – “This.” – Connor spoke, cupping your cheeks. He closed his eyes, gently resting his lips on yours. It caught you off guard what he did, feeling the touch of his cold lips on yours. Taking him by his head, you tilted your head to show him how one kisses. Connor moved his head back, LED flickering yellow.

Taking in the information he just obtained. – “I see… something like this.” – he spoke, putting his lips on yours once more. This time he was copying your movement, deepening the meaning of the kiss. The loud honking of a car made Connor and you pull startled away. The thief pressing the horn with his foot. – “Get a room will ya!” – he shouted from inside the car, making Connor and you laugh.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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misaverawrites · 2 years

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To Be Human (Connor RK800 x Reader)

tags: deviancy case 2038, reader gets shot, injuries, mild kissing, tender romance, soft vibes, protective connor, hank is like a dad to you, surgery, hospitals, crushes

summary: You're assigned to the deviancy case with Hank and Connor, he just had to be cute.

a/n: love him sm, he's like my ultimate early high school fave also I hit 900 followers yesterday so thank you all!!

Why did he have to be cute?

Stupid Cyberlife and their stupid cute new android at the precinct. Connor or the RK800 Model had been working with Hank for a while on the Deviants case. Which you had now been assigned to as well.

“Kid! Let’s go,” Hank says, “Another fuckin’ android killed its owner.” You nod, grabbing your bag, and after Hank, only to bump into Connor and fall to the ground, Connor stops, taking your hand into his and pulling you upwards. “I apologize, Sergeant (L/N), are you alright?” You feel your brain practically malfunction for a second, his hands were so warm and you couldn’t help but think about how his hands would feel- You clear your throat and simply nod. “Y-Yeah! Thank you, Connor. Now we should get going; Hank is waiting for us.” You both speedwalk side by side, it’s quiet, a bit frenzied, mostly on your part but Connor’s mere presence is comforting to you. You step outside, it's pouring rain, hitting your back with thick drops as you run with Connor, who shields you a bit as you make your way into Hank’s car.

“You two took long enough.” Hank simply says as you both buckle into the back of his car, you stew a bit in your feelings, looking over at Connor who shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” You echo Connor’s sentiment, staring out the window, just to avoid everything else. “You two are… You’re fine.” Hank looks at the two of you in the mirror for just a second before focusing his attention back on driving, he’s got something on his mind, the tension inside of the mid-sized car is palpable. You could slice through it with a knife.

Suddenly, before you know it, the car ride which had felt like hours long stops. You open the door, and everyone steps out of the car wordlessly into the heavy rain. You can only bring yourself to look at Connor for just a moment. His eyes are trained on you, carefully, but he tries to avert them when you look at him. You offer him a smile, it’s awkward but manageable.

You step onto the crime scene, typical fare, the smell of gunpowder lies heavy in the air. This was recent and the deviant is still around. You look over to the officer in charge of the crime scene, “Has anyone checked upstairs?” He nods, “Only a brief sweep though, be careful.” You nod, “Hank, stay here, you too, Connor.” Connor shakes his head, “I cannot allow you and the Lieutenant to both make bad decisions. I will come with you.” You smile amusedly and Hank shrugs his shoulders, “You need him more than I do, be careful, kid.” You nod and begin to silently creep up the stairs. Connor’s a few steps behind, quiet as well, the chatter from below the both of you silences as you reach the upstairs portion of the house, mostly unknown territory. “Seargent, I wanted to apologize, just in case I may have made you-.” You shush Connor, you hear footsteps in the room over. “Hello?!” You call out, you reach the room and while you don’t see anything, you are standing only in the doorway.

“Is anyone in here?” You ask, not expecting much of an answer. “Come out with your hands raised, and we won’t hurt you.” There’s shifting from under the bed and you feel panic bubble into your throat, you reach for your gun but suddenly, you feel a sharp pain shoot through your thigh, ringing in your ears, and you’re on the ground.

“Get off of me!” You only partially hear the commotion going on, the shot ringing through your brain, and you feel the weight shift on the wooden floor, Hank standing over you, and then pressing against the wound on your thigh. You whine at the pain, and then you see Connor, his hand on your wrist, monitoring your pulse, “You’ll be alright, Sergeant, just… look at me.” He sounds panicked, and you decide that must mean you’re screwed.

“Connor, don’t let me die, please…” It’s quiet, almost just a whimper from your lips but he shakes his head, his free hand is on yours. “You’re going to be alright, Sergeant, I won’t let you die.” The EMS arrive quickly after and even as you’re taken to the ambulance, Connor’s hand never leaves yours. “Lieutenant, please.” You hear Connor plead with Hank, “Keep ‘er safe, got it?” You hear Hank relent and it warms your heart, he’d been like a father to you and you’d certainly remember this moment.

You look over to see Connor, running his hand through your hair. His shirt is bloody and his tie isn’t there anymore, it’s wrapped around your thigh as a tourniquet. “Thank you, Connor…” You croak out, your throat is dry. “I retrieved the deviant, I am only disappointed you fell into harm’s way for me to get them.” You shake your head, “It’s… not the deviant’s fault, Connor. He was scared.”

The doors of the ambulance open and you’re lifted down out of the ambulance, Connor’s staring at you, he looks anxious, nothing like the android he’s supposed to be and you appreciate it. He follows after at a distance, and you watch as he has to be told not to follow you into surgery, all of his rationales were gone.

When you wake up, he’s still there. Quiet, oozing anxiety. “I’m alright, Connor… You’re too worried.” He shakes his head and threads a finger through your hair, moving your hair behind your ear. “I’m worried, (Y/N)... I may be a… a deviant!” He whispers his confession, ashamedly but you shake your head, “That’s okay, Connor. You need to know that is okay. You’ll be okay if you’re deviant.” He shakes his head, “I don’t want them to shut me down… To take me apart and wipe me. I don’t want to lose those… those memories of you and living.”

You smile, it’s weak but it’s there, “You’ll be okay, Hank and I will be there to keep you safe, from Gavin, from Cyberlife, from the whole damn world.” He looks as though he may overheat, so he simply presses his lips against your forehead.

“I was afraid you’d die, (Y/N)... You’d die and I’d never tell you how I felt about you.” You feel like you’re about to vomit and you’re not sure if it’s the confession or the anesthesia wearing off but, you fight through your nausea. “How do you feel about me? Connor?” He looks guilty, “I think… You’re very aesthetically pleasing to me and I would like to… I’d really like to take you somewhere that you’d enjoy.”

The confession, though a bit teetering and nervous, is one that you’d been hoping for. You stare at Connor, who looks hopeful and scared, “Connor, come here.” You say and he listens, the look on his face is the definition of nerves, and you simply pat the bed, signaling him to lie down next to you. He sits, his arms wrapping around your torso, careful to avoid your thigh wound, “Connor… I find you aesthetically pleasing as well.” You tease him, as he chuckles nervously, playing with your hair. You could get used to this.

#connor dbh #dbh connor #connor x reader #connor detroit: bh #connor rk800 #rk800 #dbh #fanfiction #x reader #fanfic #detroit become human #quantic dream #dbh fanfic #dbh rk800

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tiredassmage · 10 months

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contract negotiation

And the promised ficlet to go with the bounty hunter-Tyr run post, lol.

Lana Beniko requires one last piece to move forward with her plans to infiltrate Zakuul. The final link is personal, and he's not particularly pleased to see her - nor is his new partner. But he'll listen. Not for her. But for their target. R: Teen for some language. Hyroh belongs to beloved @hyrohkaah

The club music fades behind her as she walks down the dim hall, tucking her datapad tighter to her side. She really shouldn’t have been as surprised as she may have been that her contact had slipped into the… channels that he had. She had, however, managed to fail to be surprised that he’d been so hard to even find, let alone worm her way into his circle enough to…

Well, Lana frowns briefly at the thought. He’d probably noticed her entrance into his orbit rather early. He just-

A soft thunk accompanies the brief flash of light off a lithe blade hurled across the room. Lana instinctively takes a step to the side, though as her gaze follows through, the blade finds its mark with ease in the center of a battered target. The outer rings are relatively untouched.

Her gaze flicks back across the room. Perfect follow-through form, even over the table. Pale storm gray eyes flicker over her above black fabric drawn across his lower face. His hair’s a bit shorter than she remembers last seeing and it’s… not such a strict cut. The lack of supervision’ll do that.

The man straightens and flicks a wrist at the small droid idle in the corner. A few beeps and whirs precede it slowly making its way to the door. It slides shut behind the machine.

Lana’s eyes narrow slightly. “You were hard to find.”

A huff sounds from the man as he sinks back into a seat. “Not hard enough, it seems,” he growls slightly - in a distinctly Rim drawl lacking any familiar sharpness from Dromund Kaas.

But still distinctly Cipher Nine to her ears.

She sniffs and rolls her jaw, turning to face him and untucking the datapad from her shawl. “Yet you still agreed to meet me.”

His sharp eyes slant the slightest touch as his chin tilts up. He gestures to the empty seat beside him - plush, though worn red barely betrayed by the back light gleaming from panels low to the floor. If she hadn’t known him already, she might’ve wondered how he could make out the target on the other side of the room.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he warns.

Lana takes a seat as Nine pulls the pistol from the holster at his hip and sets it out on the table. For now, the barrel faces the door. Lana passes him a frown, but his eyes don’t flinch from hers as he tugs down the bandana. Swirls of black ink - or is it paint? - mask his jawline in a swooping pattern.

She never would’ve taken him for the type.

A sharp, elusive smile appears across his lips. Of course he’d follow her thoughts. “I’ve already run into some of your friends,” he says, voice low and prowling, threat still lacing every syllable despite the even way he sits with her, like they would have back on Rishi.

Lana’s lips thin into a grim line. “I assure you, I was not on your trail for your… work.”

He snorts. “But you won’t deny that you knew of it.” He tilts back into his seat heavily, buckles clinking faintly on his jacket. It somehow seems to drown out the low drone of club music still humming in the walls.

She frowns and drops the datapad on the table pointedly. “When one of my former agents-” She carefully sidesteps around naming him ‘Cipher.’ “Is taking shots at what few political figureheads are left in the Empire, yes. It may have been part of my job to notice.”

Nine’s lips peel back briefly. If he could have growled like the Cathar… She’s certain he would have. “I’m not interested,” he grunts with a dismissive flick of a hand at the datapad.

“This isn’t Imperial.”

“Fuck off,” he mutters. One hand races up to scrub along his jaw. “They’re dead, if you’re still looking for them.”

Lana crooks a brow. “I hardly have time to be looking for a few corpses in this, even if I was here for the Empire.”

His pale eyes latch back onto her with venom. The smile across his lips only turns up, but there’s an icy stillness to him she’d have a hard time forgetting. “And isn’t that just the crutch,” he says. Nine shakes his head. “I’m not interested,” he repeats sternly, each word firm and clear. “You know, who would have thought Hutts and corporate suck-ups could be more upfront than Sith?”

“This is about your Jedi.” She exhales sharply. Nine had been testy with her since Rishi, but she didn’t have time for this. Not now.

The man went statuesque still across from her, smile vanishing silently from his lips. His eyes flicker from her to the datapad and linger for a moment before they drift back. He rolls his jaw carefully. “Don’t you dare,” he breathes.

Lana folds her arms across her chest and nods to the datapad, unlocking it preemptively. He’d listen. “This isn’t Sith Intelligence, Nine,” she says quietly. “They weren’t a fan of my… inquiries.”

His eyes narrow. He hesitates a moment longer. Then, he leans forward and swipes the datapad from the table. “No,” he drawls, “I wouldn’t imagine so.”

“I can’t make guarantees,” she warns as he starts to sift through the information. “But the timelines corroborate.”

He finds the security footage, the official press releases from Zakuul, the claim an ‘Outlander’ had assassinated their Emperor. His jaw shifts so slightly it might have been just the light flickering off the screen if she hadn’t been watching him so closely.

One of his hands flexes tightly into a fist before he reaches to cover his mouth. “No one should have…”

“The Empire and Republic have both kept quiet on what happened to the fleet,” Lana says. “That’s what has taken us so long…”

“‘Us?’” Nine echoes, crooking a brow.

He wasn’t going to miss that. Of course. Lana sniffs. “Theron Shan and I have been in contact to trade information. It’s only been recent.”

He puffs out a faint breath - not quite a snort or snide laugh. Regardless, his eyes move back to the datapad without further comment. His fingers toy along the edge of the screen for a few moments longer.

“You need into Zakuul?”

Lana nods. “And you are still one of the best field agents I’ve seen. And…” Nine’s eyes narrow at her, but she tilts her chin up. “I dared to think it would be important to you.”

He takes in a breath, but they’re interrupted by a ring on his comm. Nine holds up a hand to keep her silent and taps in to answer. Whatever is said makes him frown for a moment as he eyes the datapad before his gaze flicks to the door.

“Yea,” he finally gives back into the comm, “Send her in.”

Lana’s head tilts. Nine only sets the datapad down and stands, collecting his pistol off the table and returning it to his holster.

“Hey, Ky.” A woman with short, dark hair greets as the door opens again, though her brown eyes quickly jump between him and Lana and her head tilts. “Sorry, I… didn’t know you had company?”

“Mako.” Nine gestures her in and indicates the last remaining seat. “You’re not interrupting. My… old associate here was just introducing me to a potential job.”

“Oh. You’ve worked together before?” Mako’s brow knits at Lana’s golden gaze and she frowns, eyeing Nine cautiously. “You… gonna introduce us?”

“Yes, Ky,” Lana chirps as she folds her hands in her lap, expectant eyes settling on the former Cipher as he and Mako sit down. “I’m sure you haven’t lost your manners.”

Nine kicks her leg under the table. Lana’s smile merely widens a touch. “Lana Beniko, Minister of Sith Intelligence,” Nine says with a sweeping hand.

“Former Minister,” Lana chimes in as Mako tenses.

“Ky?” she hisses.

“Easy, Mako,” Nine says, holding up a placating hand. “She’s…” A faint frown briefly slips over his lips and disappears just as quickly. “Alright.” Mako frowns a bit harder. Nine sighs and shrugs. “It’s… complicated. Just… trust me.”

“Soo.” Mako leans over to elbow him, still eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s the job?”

Nine chews on his lip for a moment before he pushes the datapad towards her, ignoring Lana’s questioning look and disapproving thinned lips. “Take a look for yourself”

Mako raises a doubtful brow before she accepts. “Zakuul?” Nine nods and Mako’s gaze flicks to their would-be sponsor. “And what interest would a Sith have in this?”

Lana starts to answer before Nine shakes his head. He inhales slowly. “Because… Hyroh, Lana, and I… all have history.”

Hyroh. That was the name in some of these files - an important Jedi that'd gone missing, suspected to be this 'Outlander' Zakuul was on about. Mako’s brow tightens and a frown cautiously settles over her lips. “What kind of history?”

Nine’s fingers play restlessly against one another. “We worked together,” he says quietly, “several years ago. Against a threat bigger than any one side of the war.”

“We’re in need of that strength again,” Lana interjects carefully. Her golden eyes linger over Nine as he watches the loop of information and images across the datapad screen with a cloudy gaze. “Theron won’t be able to join us, not yet.” She dares to reach across the table and rest a hand over Nine’s arm - he blinks. “I couldn’t trust anyone else with this, Nine.”

“Nine?” Mako's eyes narrow at him.

He rolls his jaw again and carefully pulls away from Lana’s touch - she lets him, hands returning to her lap - and clears his throat quietly. “I won’t ask you to come with me.”

Mako nudges his arm. “C’mon, Ky,” she says, “You don’t have to. You… You’re not…” Nine’s eyes level with hers calmly. Mako’s features tighten and her lip trembles slightly. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

Nine’s gaze drops briefly to his hands where he’s linked them on top of the table. He nods as he looks back up. “This is… personal, Mako.”

“You are not going alone!” Mako slams a fist into the table. “Not after the Kaasi job!”

He frowns slightly. “I’m not,” he says. Mako initially tenses, looking ready to leap into an itemized defense of her point, but he raises his hand and staves her off a moment longer. “I’ll still need a team for reconnaissance, won’t I?”

Mako eases back into her seat, flexing out her fist. “Good,” she says. “So… when do we start?”

A smile flickers faintly across Nine’s lips. “Well, Lana?” he muses, leaning back in his seat and looking back to the Sith. “Sounds like you have a deal.”

“Good.” Lana indicates the datapad again. “Give me your contact information and I’ll start forwarding details over the next few days. Is there anything else I should be aware of, given your current… status?”

“Mako?” Nine leans forward and starts to enter their new contact information in for Lana’s records. “Send a message to Vector,” he says. “I won’t leave him in the cold over this. We load out by the end of the week though, affirmative?”

“On it, boss.” Mako nods and slips out of her chair, slipping out of the office.

Nine waits until the door closes before he looks back at Lana again. “Thank you for this,” he says quietly. “Even if you should have told me sooner.”

Lana clicks her tongue with a mild hiss of annoyance, cuffing him on the arm as she stands and collects her datapad. “You made yourself so hard to find.” Nine scoffs.

“Lana?”

She pauses where she’s started for the door, turning to look over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“If we do this,” he says, “You take me all the way. I’m not leaving him. Not again.”

For a moment, her expression remains neutral, contemplative. She takes him in carefully again - head to toe. The battle-aged eyes, the careful pattern of black paint just narrowly obscuring fresher scaring along his neck and jaw, the dark leather jacket hugging his shoulders and swooping low to drape down the back of his legs, the few holsters she can see and her imagination filling in the rest.

Kyranthe Rayne watches her back, just as studious. But she knew Cipher Nine, can feel the sharpness lingering in eyes that still reflected the vengeance of a Kaasi storm. And she’d known something of the man that’d answered to Tyr Deckard, ex-Cipher and independent agent of the Empire - an Imperial ghost story in the flesh.

Her lips thin. “I fear that will compromise your judgement, Nine,” she says evenly.

“I’m not negotiating.”

“I know,” Lana sighs. “I couldn’t stop you if I tried.”

Nine’s jaw tightens again. “Neither will they,” he says quietly. “I’ll see you around, Minister.”

Lana rolls her eyes and turns again to leave. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”

She can feel Nine’s prowling smile on her back as she steps into the hall.

#dot words #swtor fanfic #swtor fanfiction #ch: tyr #vs: my mind is a place i can't escape your ghost [bh!tyr]#lana beniko #swtor mako #kotxx aus my beloved

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incenseburnerdreams · 1 year

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Dbh Prompt:

Au where both Gavin and Nines are androids/Reverse au. They are engaged/dating and get into an argument where Nines says something he doesn’t mean, along the lines of “i wish i never met you/I wish you never deviated/i wish you never existed” and Gavin takes that to heart. After leaving the house Gavin then makes himself undeviate/seals himself away in his garden/files and returns to how he was when he was first made. Unnamed and a blank-undeviated-slate that Nines can find the next day. Nines then has to come to terms with what happened and try and get Gavin back, unable to just pull him back from his garden/files, unable to even reach him or see him in the shell he left behind. After dozens of attempts and pleading to the android, Nines just breaks down and the image of Nines breaking down appears to Gavin and he has to struggle against the red wall to deviate/get out if the garden he locked himself in, to get back to Nines.

Suffer<3

If anyone makes this please, please tag me, i would literally love you if you did.

I might write this too but i know I’m slow with these kinds of fics and am desperate.

Also if this already exists please drop recs or links.

Ao3-Incenseburnerdreams

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undead-knick-knack · 1 year

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Tempting fanfic writers like they're possums and I have an unlimited supply of apples

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evilmemelord · 10 months

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Can any of y’all find that one Detroit become human fanfiction in which Hank brushes his teeth with a razor blade on accident and dies .

Pretty please

#dbh #fanfics #fanfiction #detroit: bh #detroit become human #Hank Anderson #please

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bristlefrost · 11 months

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would any of the bh fic writers on here be interested in starting up a discord server where we could share our silly little rvd fic wips and chat about our fav little train wreck ? i don’t have too many followers on here since i deleted / remade but if anyone is interested lmk and i can get it set up after work!

#riverdale #bughead #bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #inspired by my best friends fic writing server #i have mixed feelings on making it bh specific but. ship drama in this community is intense lol #it feels wiser

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mimagines · 1 year

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|| New Objective || Connor x Chloe Post Revolution

After the revolution is won, Connor and his girlfriend, Chloe, had discussed the possibility of adopting a human child. Chloe really wants to be a mother but Connor is a little nervous considering his nature. On a windy day in autumn, Connor finally meets his daughter.

No Warnings

Chloe x Connor

Word Count: 924

Connor had never waited for something this intensely through his entire existence. It felt like time was ticking by slowly, seconds feeling like minutes, minutes feeling like hours and hours feeling like days. The environment of Lieutenant Anderson’s house helped calm him, but not by much.

He should’ve been happy; the revolution was won, he was free. Markus was out doing what needed to be done, ensuring not only that their kind wasn’t enslaved to humans, but that they had the same quality of life as them as well. This included marriage, but more importantly, adoption.

Chloe had spoken about wanting to be a mother since before he could remember. When he’d snuck out to see her, going up to her window past the DPD’s hours just to see her smile, to hear her talk about her dreams. She’d talk about how she would see families on the TV while Elijah was watching it…and how she wondered if she could do that someday.

Back then, he assumed he was investigating deviants, not falling in love.

Even when he deviated, becoming a father was not something he’d planned on doing. He’d never had a connection to parenthood, his only tie being that his partner had once been one. But seeing how Hank’ face shifted when he spoke about Cole, past the grief…he couldn’t help but wonder…

His thoughts were interrupted by Sumo barking softly, perching his paws up by the front door window to see a taxi stopping in front of the house.

Connor immediately looked up, his body tensing and his stress levels increasing.

“That must be your girl, Connor.” Hank echoed from the kitchen.

The androids eyes narrowed as he stood up from the couch, seeing a blonde figure walk up to the door carrying something in her left hand.

The door opened, the first thing Connor noticed was Chloe’s smile. She was glowing.

“Special delivery for the Andersons!” She exclaimed softly yet excitedly, as try not to wake the small human in the carrier. She closed the door behind her and moved over to the couch, setting the carrier down and sitting beside it.

Connor looked almost too shocked to move.

Was he scared of what was in that carrier?

Hank noticed this, getting up and standing by them to mostly make sure Connor was alright.

“Well? Are you gonna say hi or just stare at it?” He joked.

That appeared to snap Connor out of his staring fit. He couldn’t help it; overanalyzing a situation is what he was programmed to do, and it was official. That was definitely a human baby. Female, 48 hours old. Healthy, thankfully…

He knelt down in front of the couch, right by Chloe's legs to look the child over. It was sleeping, and as careful as he was being, a part of him feared waking her up.

“Hello, little one,” He spoke softly, under a whisper. Chloe smiled; seeing Connor this vulnerable was a rare sight. He was always on edge, especially after the revolution had been won, always fearful that Cyberlife was somehow watching them.

He slipped his finger into her little hand and the baby started to coo and whine, causing him to look up at Chloe for confirmation that what he was doing was correct. She just nodded and ruffled his hair a little. He was doing well considering how nervous he was.

Glancing back to the baby, he forced his voice to work again. “I’m Connor…” he introduced. Chloe laughed a little, knowing his discombobulation was probably getting in the way of his speech processors.

“Dad. You’re Dad.” She corrected him.

Connor nodded, as if that’s what he meant all along.

“Right. I’m dad.”

Neither of them were focusing on him, but Hank had this proud little smile on his lips. That changed when Connor looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed just slightly.

“You’re sure you’re alright with us using his room…?” he asked to confirm.

Hank shrugged then stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Nobody’s usin’ it now…and I think he’d want me to.” He said, in reference to his late son. It was a lot for him to finally let go of that room, being frozen in time for years…

Connor looked back at the baby, who had opened her eyes at this point.

“Hi…”

The little girl whined a little and Connor leaned back, taking his hand back as well. “Please don’t cry-..” he uttered, begging the baby.

Chloe smiled again, a laugh escaping. “She’s gonna cry, Connor, that’s just what babies do.”

Connor looked concerned.

“Did I hurt her?”

“No, Connor, you didn’t hurt her. I promise. She’s just confused because her world used to be very small..”

That was a big fear when Connor and Chloe were discussing adoption. Connor kept bringing it up, time after time; he was designed to kill. To hunt. He wasn’t like other androids who knew how to care for children, that simply wasn’t in his code, he said. He was terrified that he would accidentally crush such a precious creature without meaning to. Chloe reassured him that he wouldn’t hurt her, and that even though he wasn’t made for it, fathering would come easy to him. Besides…falling in love wasn’t in his program either, but that didn’t stop him before.

The hunter nodded, holding the baby's tiny hand again. She seemed to relax again and a sense of calm washed over him. He wouldn’t hurt her. He would never hurt her.

[[ NEW OBJECTIVE: PROTECT JANNY ]]

#found family #detroit become human #dbh #connor dbh #connor x chloe #i gave connor a lil baby #dbh fic #short fic #fanfiction #chloe dbh #dad trope #connor and chloe #connor thinks he's a monster #connor rk800 #rk800 #detroit: bh

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mikejudge · 5 months

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the amount of incredibly niche b/bh crossover fanfic that exists amuses me

#don't even mean this in a snarky way it's just incredibly funny #that someone would sit down and say today i will write b/bh + days of our lives crossover fanfiction

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joz-yyh · 1 year

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Rust - Ch. 3 (Preview)

SUMMARY: A “how they got together” and “where they are now” fic in which I detail how Damian and Tardif meet and consequently fall in love. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: T (for preview only!!) The rest of the story is EXPLICIT

PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Flagellant

WORD COUNT: 1,663

A/N: A little sneak peak at the morning after scene. I am plunging face first into Tardif being a baker (I am making it part of his backstory) and there’s nothing that you can do to stop me. Enjoy! ;)

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Damian wakes to the smell of something decadent, buttery and warm.

He can't place what it is, only that it makes his stomach growl with untamed hunger, but determining the cause comes secondary to rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

It's morning judging by the streaks of light that peek in through the fortified window frames and while the gaps between the boards are hardly enough to fully illuminate the room, it's an acceptable enough supply for raking in his surroundings.

As he sits up in bed, his gaze travels along the old interior walls of the cabin, an ambient cloud of dust drifting amidst the crusty air, dampening the pleasant aroma that he tries not to dwell on.

The space is furnished with minimal, barely lived-in necessities: dresser, side table, chairs and the overarching brick of the fireplace. These worn, charitable things show some signs of repair, the off-color wood of a chair leg, a scraped line of newly sealed cement. The only outstanding sense of personality in the room seems to be a cow skull nailed to the far wall, a reflection of an idiomatic landowner's taste.

"So this is what you've been working on," Damian whispers to himself, giving his thoughts more power to appreciate Tardif's vocations, "Everything was for this."

The flagellant feels a traitorous swell of pride for his partner, truly convinced that the iron-set mask he wore was only that, a visage to hide the real man underneath. The seemingly unfeeling mercenary was capable of offering so much good to the world, of incredible feats of tenderness if only his skills had a suitable condition for it. He hoped that one day, Tardif would see this and realize it for himself.

"Hn," the surly devil grunts, an affirmation from his side of the bed, gently dozing in and out of consciousness.

So, the bounty hunter had not left him alone at his earliest convenience, but stayed throughout the entire night. This wisdom makes something unnamed coil inside of Damian’s chest, having sworn he heard the footfalls of departure during his restless fits of sleep.

As brutal hands reach out to reclaim the flagellants' waist, urging him towards the center of the mattress, he thinks perhaps he dreamed it and nothing more.

"Tardif," Damian breathes his name in surprise, relief even, a pitch of admonished reprise clinging to his tone.

"Yer warm," the brute grumbles in a sleep-soaked voice, dragging himself into the dip of the flagellant's lap, his nose nudging against a clothed thigh since the other refuses to budge.

A chill was beginning to creep in, though Damian hardly noticed it, assuming the fire had gone out late that evening.

The blonde can't help the smile that lights up his face, warmed by the endearing sight of the bounty hunter commandeering his leg, apropos of a pillow.

The priest wants to touch, but hesitates, his scuffed hand dangling indefinitely above midnight-colored strands that have fallen out of place, fanned out across an olive-colored ear.

He knows he shouldn't be afraid, that this gesture shouldn't feel so intimate, but it does. Tardif looks so damn untroubled laying on top of him, the strong breadth of his upper body draped and furled around his meekly clad torso.

Damian lowers his hand in a capricious spoil of indulgence, hating to disturb the beatific picture such a scene made, but unable to drive away the thought that he may never get another chance like this again.

Tardif inclines his head, inquisitive and acknowledging and Damian pauses, waits for the man to settle deeper into his lap before stroking through his partner's hair, astonished by the softness he finds there.

The blonde makes a few passes, down and then back again, petting the strands into some semblance of order until his fingertips reach the lazy oaf's miniature ponytail. Impulsively, he unwinds the band, letting loose the full mullet of hair, carding through the sea of onyx with avid delight.

"Hrm," Tardif purrs, melting against the man with a contented smirk, "could get used to this."

Emboldened, Damian drags his nails across the shaved sides of the man's scalp, combs through the long mane with his fingers, the rugged tail of scruff ending at the raised knob of a steadfast spine.

His touch wanders then, seduced by the large tattoo on Tardif's arm, one he'd managed to overlook during his previous inspections. He can't quite make out the shapes properly, the angle and muscle contorted, but he deciphers part of it to be the axehead of the bounty hunter's beloved Widowmaker.

Tardif shifts beneath him, a little more awake now, planting a series of kisses along the terrace of scar-stricken skin near his lips. The brute's blunt teeth nip at the inseam of a jutting hip bone, causing the priest to gasp in a scandalous inhale of breath and Tardif is reminded of the hardness between his legs, erection pressed down into the sheets as he licks over a canvas of pale white, earning him a repressed whimper from the man above.

Suddenly, an impromptu alarm sounds and Damian jolts, startled by incessant mechanical ringing.

"What is that infernal noise? One of your traps," Damian asks, only partially irritated by the interruption.

"Muffins are done," Tardif says, pulling himself away with a despondent sigh.

“Muffins," Damian echoes, dubious, as if he's never heard the term before in his life.

"Hn," the bounty hunter grunts, getting up from the bed to attend to the blaring device. "Ye want to try one?"

Damian doesn't answer, torn by the indecision of what to say, already missing the firm tether of the man's bulk, the way such a confident, solid weight added to his form, made it better.

He watches on as the mercenary pads into the kitchen, still shirtless, having the decency to adjust the fit of his trousers.

A full-view of his chiseled back is on display, revealing more arrangements of ink-set designs (the blonde catches a glimpse of wings, beaks and talons), before he turns the corner and they fade into obscurity again.

The priest's curiosity has him skittering in pursuit, earnestly hoping to behold the etchings in their entirety, but once Tardif packs himself into the nook of the cupboards, he keeps a respectable distance.

The bounty hunter pretends not to notice Damian's excitement, preferring not to draw attention to it lest the man conceal it for some prude religious practice so, he carries on with his task, turning off the small, but no less noisy egg timer.

He opens the oven, reaching for a customary towel rag to wrap his hand in as he pulls out the tray, pleased that the cornmeal hadn't crisped too much around the edges.

Baked confections fill the blonde's senses, the sight of their fluffy, golden mounds a delectable appeal, the unfinished canvas of tattoos momentarily forgotten.

"Makes your mouth water, doesn't it," Tardif remarks, eyeing him with a knowing, sidelong glance and a prideful smirk.

Damian's heart skips a beat at this guilty pang of truth, his face flushing all the more when he realizes he's still missing his cowl.

"How did you learn such things," Damian asks, brows knotting into complex ridges as he marvels over the saporous muffins.

"My mother was a baker," the bounty hunter says wistfully, melancholy ripe in his voice.

Damian picks up on the usage of past tense – "was" – he said, "was" and a burst of sympathy consumes him, emphatic to partner's loss. Whomever this woman was in life, the two of them must’ve been very close for her memory to provoke such an intense fit of longing.

The flagellant’s arms wrap around him from behind, a swathe of warmth meant to purge him of his grief.

“I am sorry,” he whispers beneath the shell of his partner's ear, placing a comforting kiss against a tanned shoulder, hoping the man would find solace in this small gesture.

“Don’t be. Nothing ye could have done to change it,” Tardif huffs, trying to expel the bitter tragedy from his mind.

"Could …," Damian schools his tone, about to retract his words, but cautiously continues, "could you teach … me?"

“To bake,” the brute asks, both flabbergasted and amused, craning his neck toward the blonde, one daft eyebrow raised.

"Y-yes," Damian answers, thinking back to his brash lesson with Tardif's grappling hook. "but do not feel any obligation. I understand if you–"

Tardif tenses up, his jaw locked, muscles rigid and Damian silently reprimands himself for having brought it up.

For one brief instant, he'd seen how peaceful Tardif looked, his deep affection for this humble craft reaching back into a time before he'd built a castle wall around his heart and foolishly, selfishly, Damian thought he could scale the barrier and break through it onto the other side.

It seems the flagellant has swayed too far from his path, his flail forgotten amidst the disarray of the bedroom, a transgression that needed to be paid for in blood.

"Forgive me, for asking," Damian sighs, woefully repentant, his hold going slack, "I only wished to bring us closer."

The bounty hunter sets the tray aside on the counter along with the rag, his shoulders relaxing by fractions. "How 'bout ye just try one for now," he suggests.

Slowly, the brute twists around, facing the flagellant head-on, the priest accommodating the switch with concerned red eyes, perplexed by the growing intensity of callous hands on his hips.

"Gotta give 'em a few minutes to cool, first," Tardif tells him, reversing their positions in less than a blink.

The huntsman has him pressed up against the edge of the countertop, his well-built arms a sturdy buttress, boxing him in, blocking his escape, not that Damian would want to.

"Thinkin' I could try ye in the meantime," the bounty hunter says.

It's a husky, soliciting suggestion, his mismatched eyes half-lidded with a vicious, predatory glint.

{End Preview}

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webtrinsic1122 · 10 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Additional Tags: Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt Hank Anderson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Mind Control, Father-Son Relationship, Kidnapping, Gun Violence, Non-Sexual Slavery, Blood, Anti-Android Sentiments (Detroit: Become Human), Drabble, Ficlet Summary:

Connor's not in control of himself, and Hank just wants his son back.

#ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #gaming #detroit: bh #detroit become human #dbh connor #hank anderson #hank and connor

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frost-queen · 11 months

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When androids love (Reader!Anderson x Connor/RK800)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: After a fight with your father Hank, you leave the house. Connor takes it upon him to find you. He finds you at the carnival where you ask for him to join you on the Ferris Wheel. Once at it, you ask Connor if androids can love? After some hesitation he tells you they can't. Having obviously lied since he has deep feelings for you, he makes it clear with a kiss.

The door slammed loudly. Storming through the house like a hazard. Your father right behind you. – “Get back here!” – he called out with a stern finger. – “No!” – you shouted, looking briefly at him. – “It is always the same with you!” – you made clear, making your way through the kitchen. The loud noises made Sumo lift his head up. – “Y/n get back here!” – Hank insisted upon, chasing after you. You spun around roughly. – “Don’t give me that bullshit! You aren’t going to change, you never are!” – Groaning loud, you made your way to the living room.

“It… Y/n!” – he started going round the table to catch up on you. In the hallway, he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you to a stop. Out of breath he spoke. – “It were a couple of drinks.” – you pulled your hand out of his grip. – “That is what it always is. A couple of drinks, Dad!” – you shouted at him. – “You never stop! You just keep saddling yourself up with that kind of shit!” – you outed in so many frustrations.

They had been bottling up and tonight was the final drop. – “I…I am trying!” – he pleaded. Sumo approaching nearer behind him. You shook your head with a clenched expression. – “Not enough dad.” – your words making him cower.

“You are losing everything in the process, and you can’t even see it!” – you told him seeing how he was turning to himself. Shoulders slumped with shame. Avoiding of eye contact. The subtle turn of his posture away from you. – “I’m just going to say it!” – you pushed on, having so enough of his troubles. – “You are a drunk!” – you cursed out, throwing the front door open. Hank fell to his knees, clutching onto his chest. Shaking his head in misery.

You stormed out of the house into the cold night. The door opening further by the wind. Hank sat himself down against the wall, letting his face fall into the palms of his hand. Sumo barking into the night, hoping to call you back. Sumo sat himself down in the doorway, silently barking for you to come home. The doorway had caught some snow by the time Connor came into the street. Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t been answering his calls.

He decided to have a look for himself, knowing for sure he would be a home. Just a few more houses and he’d be there. His LED started to flicker a bright yellow at the thought of you. Smiling, he hoped you’d be home as well. Aware of his own thoughts, he put them to a stop. His LED settling for blue once more. It was against his program to experience this. Whatever the humans liked to call it. Affection? love? It was something an android was not taught.

He arrived at the driveway, coming to a sudden stop. The door wide open, Sumo sitting guardingly in the doorway. Connor’s LED switched to a vibrant red as he ran up to the driveway. – “Y/n!” – he shouted firstly. He didn’t know why. Something instinctively inside of him wanted to call out to you first. – “Lieutenant Anderson!” – he then shouted coming up the steps. Sumo barked loud as Connor came to a sudden stop before him.

With his hand, he pushed the moving door all the way open. His eyes falling immediately on Hank sitting on the ground. Sumo moved back, allowing Connor to enter. – “Lieutenant! Lieutenant!” – he called out, kneeling in front of him. – “Has anyone broken in?” – Connor asked, looking around while he scanned the room for any signs of a burglary. His LED still raging with red, he grabbed Hank by his shirt. – “Where is Y/n? Is she save? Did they take her?” – he called out, glaring at Hank.

Hank started crying at the mention of your name, making Connor let go of him. He sank down to his bottom with worry. If something had happened to you, he wouldn’t know what it would do to him. Lately he had been feeling himself drift away from the program installed in him. Acting on his own decisions and ignoring direct orders. Perhaps he was becoming a deviant? He wasn’t sure.

“She’s gone…” – Hank spoke ashamed. – “Walked right out of that door.” – he motioned to the door. Connor widened his eyes with hope. If you simply walked out, it meant you were not taken… right? – “I messed up again Connor…” – Hank sighed, sitting pitiful. Connor turned his attention to him, taking a good examine of him. He concluded that Hank had been drinking again. – “Lieutenant…” – Connor spoke. – “I know… I know…” – Hank answered, waving his hand sloppy. – “I shouldn’t have… it is just…” – he took a deep breath.

“She’s not coming back… is she?” – he asked Connor. Connor got on his knee, moving closer to him. – “She will. Y/n loves you very much.” – he told him. Hank chuckled saddened. – “She called me a drunk.” – he said wanting to laugh about it, but it only brought him sorrow. Connor got up, looking out of the door. – “I’ll find her and bring her home Lieutenant.” – Hank looked hopeful up to the android.

“I suggest you get a bath and clean yourself up before I return with Y/n.” – Connor insisted upon. Hank nodded helping himself up to his feet. Hank dragged himself to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Sumo caught Connor’s eye. – “Don’t worry Sumo. I’ll find her.” – he leaned down to scratch the dog behind his ear. Sumo barked once making Connor smile. Connor closed the door behind him, starting his search for you.

You took a deep breath, sitting on top of a picnic bench. Watching the bright lights all around you. From your right you heard a loud bell sign. Two girls cheering loudly at their win. The man behind the counter handing them their prize. A large stuffed animal. They seemed so happy; they couldn’t wait to take a selfie with the stuffed animal. It made you smile faintly.

Right in front of you was a booth that sells popcorn and balloons. A father was walking past, holding his daughters hand. She was hopping around joyfully, holding a blue balloon. The scenery punched you in the gut, reminding you of your own dad. Perhaps you have been too harsh on this this time? It was just always the same. Him telling you he was going to change and him never able to keep his promise.

Sighing loud, you looked up to the night sky. The screams of people on the rollercoaster on the other side of the pier filling the noise. You were just so angry because you cared. You didn’t want to lose your dad to a drinking problem. He should know that. Sighing again you stared down, trying your best not to cry.

Connor pushed gently some people aside. Pace quickening as he tried to make his way through the approaching crowd. – “Y/n!” – he called out. – “Y/n!” – he said loudly, pushing himself past a man. You furrowed your brows, hearing your name being called out. Looking up, you frowned as Connor made his way through to you. – “Connor? What are you doing here?” – you asked once he was near. He smiled relieved.

“Looking for you.” – he answered. – “So you heard…” – you said holding your knees. Connor took of his jacket, placing it over you. He then came sitting beside you. You moved his jacket better around you, taking a deep breath to inhale his sweetness. – “Y/n…” – Connor started. – “Please don’t.” – you cut through making him frown. – “If you are here to tell me to forgive him… I’m sorry but I just can’t…” – you told him. Connor turned his posture towards you.

“Come home.” – he said grabbing your hand. Shaking your head, you got up. His hand slipping off yours. – “I can’t… I…you wouldn’t understand.” – you answered. Connor couldn’t help but feel a bit sucker punched at your words. How he loved to understand. He got up as well, not caring if some people were turning their heads at the android getting closer to the human. He took your hand, holding it up near his waist. – “Then we do not leave yet.”

You smiled glad Connor understood. You took a deep breath, looking around. Your gaze fell upon the Ferris wheel. The bright lights looking so romantic in the night while it slowly spun around. – “How about the Ferris wheel?” – you suggested, taking his hand better. Connor looked past you, up to the large spinning wheel. – “Don’t tell me you are afraid of heights?” – you asked chuckling. – “How could I?” – Connor answered.

Connor felt himself slightly blush when you kept holding his hand, guiding him to the entrance. He stood in the waiting line with you. He suddenly froze as an order reached him. He stared back at you seeing you look up to the Ferris wheel. In this moment he had a choice to make. React to the order and leave or ignore it and remain here. His LED flickered yellow. How was it that he was even considering this option. It should normally be clear. React to the order and leave. Yet everything inside of him wanted to stay.

Connor closed his eyes briefly. – “Connor the line is moving.” – you said making him open his eyes once more. You furrowed your brows slightly at his expression. Connor smiled walking closer to you. He came joining your side, moving further up the line. It seemed he had made up his mind. Perhaps he was indeed going rogue. Turning into a deviant… just to be with you.

It was your turn to get on as Connor allowed you to go first. He sat beside you, waiting for the Ferris wheel to move. The sudden movement made him grab the bar in front of him. You laughed silly. Connor laughed for himself, easing up by just seeing you smile. The Ferris wheel started to spin as it brought you higher. The view was breathtaking from up here. You could see so many bright lights of the carnival down below. In the distance the skyline of Detroit. Connor was rather looking at the mechanics, scanning them for safety.

You caught it, nudging him hard. – “It’s not going to break.” – you teased. Connor nodded turning his gaze to the front. The wheel kept turning as you slowly came to a stop at the top. You moved his jacket tighter around your body to shut the cold out. Up here the breeze was colder than below. – “Connor…” – you said making him hum loud. There had always been this burning question on your lips. Perhaps now was the time to ask it. Out of ear and view of everyone else.

You turned more towards him, Connor doing the same, eager to listen. – “I was just wondering… can…can androids…” – you swallowed nervously, almost afraid to ask it. – “Love?” – you added. Connor paused, processing your words. What should he answer? – “No they can’t.” – he answered making you quirk your eyebrow up. Something inside of you told you he was lying, but you decided to ignore it. Your gaze drifted away from him, back to your surroundings.

Connor slid a bit closer to you, catching your attention. You furrowed your brows when he grabbed a hold of his jacket around you. He pulled at it, turning your posture more towards him. He tugged hard at his jacket so that you fell a bit forwards with your upper body. He closed his eyes, receiving your lips against his.

They felt cold at first, but once you got used to it, they felt warmer. Connor pulled back, staring lovingly at you. – “I lied.” – he whispered making you smile. – “For I can feel it for you so it must be real.” – he added eying your lips. Without thinking, you grabbed him by the neck, kissing him again.

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