#˾ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ & ᴄɪɢᴀʀᴇᴛᴛᴇꜱ ̚ ;; ⁱ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁱ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵉ.��� ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

[replicantdeviancy]

undeadunalive asked: "Detective Arkeit?"

@undeadunalive || Prompted Interaction || Always accepting

It was his own fault, being out this late in the middle of the night. The American would blame the change in time zone, though by now he was well aware that it was a poor excuse. How many months had he been gallivanting around Europe alongside the man who had effortlessly stolen his heart? Admittedly, the detective had lost count. Initially, they had gone to Italy, to James' home in the Vatican City, where Connor had immediately fallen in love with the culture & the architecture. As promised, the coffee had been delectable, the atmosphere pleasant & lively. There had hardly been much time to recuperate, as the exorcist's mentor was a demanding sort, & there was always a new case to be looked into. Connor was equally as demanding, & he had refused to allow James to leave him behind. So they had traveled together, to Spain, then France, a small stint in Romania.

Eventually, they had come to the British Isles. There, the priest had managed to get away from his ornery young lover for a time, though not without argument. Apparently this assignment was just too dangerous. Thus, much to his chagrin, Connor was persuaded to remain at their hotel until he returned. It was like slow torture sitting in that room, especially after night had fallen, for as the silence came, the thoughts in his head became too loud. He was worried, though he needn't be. He knew that his lover would be fine, but that didn't calm his nerves.

A late night coffee run with his latest reference material in hand - a book on demonology & unearthly spirits - was just what he needed, though disappointingly, he hadn't managed to find anywhere open to serve his needs. Defeated, the detective had decided to return to the hotel, when the sound of a familiar voice caught his attention. His head turned towards the direction in which the voice came, spotting a figure beneath a nearby streetlight that made his heart skip a beat. Was that— “James? ” Bewilderment suddenly became elation & he turned to make a beeline for the figure, a wide smile warming his pretty, though somewhat ashen features. He hadn't been sleeping well again. Maybe that was why he hadn't questioned the way this man had called out to him. When was the last time James had been so formal? "What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be back until—" His words caught in his throat with a near-silent gasp & the detective stopped short.

Just as soon as that excitement had grown, so did it die as the detective realized, perhaps just a little too late, that this man, whoever he was, could not be the priest. He was too tall, his hair too dark, as the absence of that gentle dusting of gray gave a stark distinction. Besides that, there was just something… off about him. Still, he could have been the older man's twin.

Visage awash with confusion & mild embarrassment, Connor quickly apologized. “I'm sorry, I…” Still several feet from the other man, he made no effort to close the distance, just a little wary. The priest had filled his head with stories of fae & changelings, of various entities in the area who might mimic a loved one. It sounded fanciful - there was more likely a rational explanation beyond midsummer nights trickery. “You look just like somebody I know.” He chose not to explain himself further, forever intent on keeping his lover safe, no matter who or what from. Besides that, what was he meant to say? That this stranger was the spitting image of the holy man he had been shagging across half of Europe & Michigan? Furthermore, there were more important questions. "How do you know my name?" He supposed that he couldn't have remained entirely anonymous here, not after that Selkie business in Scotland last month. That had been an oddly eye opening experience.

[replicantdeviancy]

It was somewhat distressing to realize just how easily this man, who had been a stranger to him not more than a few hours ago, could affect his emotions so deeply without effort, elating him in ways he had never before experienced. How this same man could cut him right to his core, leaving him vulnerable. Was this what it felt? When a connection between two people such as theirs was real? Connor didn't know, but he did realize that there was truth in something he had once heard ; to love someone was to confess that they are ready to be devastated by them. How heartachingly accurate, as the detective knew in his very being that no matter the outcome, whatever the future might hold for them, he would gladly let himself be broken into pieces by this man. Every time they would find themselves apart, any instance in which he discovered another secret never before told, Connor would feel a piece of his heart break. But he wanted it all, to live that bittersweet pain, because he trusted that James would always come back to him & mend him all over again.

He had no way of knowing this. They had only just begun, having met by a fleeting chance of serendipity because of a disturbing case which had just happened to land on his desk. Even so, he believed in his intuition. Looking into those stunning blue eyes so full of apology & forlorn hope, the feelings stirring inside of his chest made him question the nature of his own reality, if there were such a thing as fate. In his perfect world of logic & reason, such flights of fancy were but myth & speculation. But it had been he who was assigned this case, he who chose to pursue a longshot lead in order to find out more information about the deceased, to fill in the blanks. His path brought him to James, to this strange & beautiful man, because of that seemingly unimportant decision.

Imagining scenarios of what could have been if he had never come to that particular church on that particular date was upsetting, especially when the older man looked at him with the most heartfelt longing stare & told him that he was wanted. Without even understanding this fear inside of the priest for things unseen, Connor felt protected, cherished. It was difficult to fathom how sudden & powerful this desire came upon him, but when the priest aimed that cheeky smile his way, how could he ever refuse him? James wanted him , & he was willing to put himself & his heart at great risk to open himself up to the smitten detective. Connor was grateful for that, as he recognized now, after having known the man & felt for a moment what it was to be loved by him, the heartache would last a lifetime. He didn't want James to be the one that got away.

It was said that sometimes, a person can come into one's life & turn their world upside-down, changing them completely. It was a little frightening, being pulled from the mundane comfort of his purposeful solitude, the safety of routine in his unusual little world. The promise of something new & lasting had him endlessly curious. Of course, great care had to be taken as they navigated this thing between them, together. Connor still had to balance the professional detachment & necessary mindfulness of optics when it came to his job, just as he expected James could have to balance their relationship & his standing with the church. They would have to protect one another in more ways than one, but the prospect of time to be taken in careful measure helped quell any anxiety of expectation.

They both needed to allow the other a little grace - the suddenness of this attachment & the potential romance to come presented them with challenges. Nevertheless, the detective believed that they could easily be overcome if the two of them stuck together. "I'll give you all the time in the world," he said & it sounded like an oath spoken from softly pouting, nervous lips. He looked at James with those sweet brown eyes, returning the squeeze of the hand in his. "Just promise that you 'll be truthful with me." It was all that he wanted; sincerity. Decency, honesty. It didn't matter that the priest knew that his companion could spot a lie as easily as he drew breath, because to the detective, it meant so much more that James could feel at ease in candidness. To open one's heart to another was a difficult thing. He imagined that their undeniable connection would be a learning experience. One was never too old to learn new things.

At the suggestion of leaving the restaurant & wandering out into the night to explore, a feeling of relief came over Connor, & he released a small but breathy sigh as his mouth curved gently into a faint yet pleasant smile. Somehow, the idea of ​​​​walking hand in hand under the cover of darkness sounded utterly captivating, & he pictured the two of them traversing the walking path along the Detroit River, enveloped by the brisk night air. He hadn't realized just how much he wanted to be completely alone with this man until then, how the ever-present pressures of social expectation & public scrutiny was a weight pressing upon him. He wanted no barriers between them, no prying ears or looming eyes. A moment of just the two of them, where they could forget the world & simply be.

"You want to get out of here? Then we'll go." He sat up a little straighter, & immediately mourned the loss of that hand upon his cheek as he turned to wave down the waiter & get their attention. At the same time, he was elated that this instance of mourning wouldn't last long, as he'd soon have James all to himself. When their server arrived, Connor was prompted in his request for the check & to have their food boxed up. He quickly produced his card, before his date could so much as offer, ever the little gentleman that he was raised to be, or rather who he strived to become. He looked to his companion with a shy smile. "I'll get this. After all, I'm the one who asked you out. It's only right." He hoped that it was perceived as thoughtful, as the detective would have been the first to admit that he was unfamiliar with foreign customs when it came to dating. He was hardly familiar with American customs in the dating space, having tried it so rarely. But somehow, in knowing just how easily James seemed to decipher him, Connor was confident that he would be understood.

It wasn't long before their dinner was boxed up & set into a plastic bag. The detective squared away the bill & left a generous tip, which he wasn't about to spend the time explaining to his date. All he could think of right then was how eager he was to get out of there, to find freedom in the evening darkness with his companion, where they could be as close as they wanted without anyone near to judge them.

For an unbearable long moment, James had been worried that Connor wouldn't look back at him. Had he managed to truly push him away? Awaken him to the reality of what could happen? If that was what the priest had wanted, then why did those few long seconds hurt? The thought of those deep brown eyes never looking back at him again, never piercing right down into his soul seeing passed all the noise that so few others could see through or even tried to. But then he did, their eyes met again and James was sure he'd felt his heart skip a beat. It just confirmed it, he didn't want to lose this man who had quite literally just wandered into his life and now he didn't want to let go. It was a freeing thought, but it terrified him all the same. To care for someone so deeply, to need them yet know the horrific path they could tread down was a very real possibility. Why not? The Brit had seen it for himself, his own parents had experienced it, fallen to it, and was the very reason that James kept everyone at bay for so long.

Yet there he was, genuinely tempted to pull down his walls for this one man. What was worse? Losing him now and never knowing what could have been or getting a taste of happiness and losing him after all of it? He had more than a few pros and cons for both sides, but as he sat there, staring into those eyes, all he wanted to do was throw the table aside and pull the younger man into his arms where he'd fight both Heaven and Hell at the same time to keep him safe.

And he'd hold himself to that.

"If you're lucky, you'll never have to know about all that..." Maybe there was a chance he could be in his life without playing witness to the horrors James endured on a regular basis? Some seemed more plausible than others, but once that veil was lifted, there was no end to it, it just kept going, more and more things crawling out of the woodwork to the point where if someone had heard the faintest whisper of something, it was likely true, somewhere, sometime. All he could really do was try and shield Connor from the worst of it. "I don't want to hide all of this from you... it's not fair to you and I don't want whatever this is so start on a bed of lies no matter how rosy it might make it look..." He admitted, a slight smile curving at his lips as the side of his thumb gently brushed against the American's cheek, stroking it as his gaze darted between the others' own. "Just... give it time, yeah? It's a lot to take in, and figuring out where to start's like a bloody minefield." Was he really doing this? Was he actually willing to let someone in? Let them into his life? His heart?

"But if you want this, if you want... me, then so be it, because God help me, I want this too. More than I can explain." His voice almost quivered as he spoke, as if his fears were trying to clog up his throat, catch onto each breath that filled his lungs. Then he felt it, Connor's hand against his followed by a question that had his emotions fighting between tears and happiness. "Yeah... maybe it is." His words might not have sounded convincing, but it was all he could manage at that moment, still fighting against the fear that he could lose him in some unspeakable fashion, throwing aside everything he'd held himself in the last thirty years. Those walls were coming down for someone, dropping to the ground and crumbling into tiny pieces while he gingerly stepped over and between them, terrified he'd fall.

"Thing is, you don't need to believe in something for it to be able to hurt you. If it were that easy, the Devil and all his little minions would be out of a job. For the most part, at least. And so would I... now I think about it." He wasn't entirely sure about the United States, but when it came to the UK, he was well aware that the percentage of those who practised religion had dropped significantly in the last decade, let alone longer. If it did all come down to them only being able to intervene with those who believed in them, James' job would be a hell of a lot quieter.

"But yeah... I could see this lasting too." Glancing down, that wit effortlessly flooded back into view again, his pensive expression suddenly being replaced with a crooked smile that seemed to warn the other man that he was about to say something with that dry sense of humour of his. "If you think you stomach me for long enough." He did manage to tease as a quiet smirk left him, finally looking back over at the guy as mischief once again proudly claimed those sparkling blue eyes. "Like I've said, I'm an acquired taste." He really couldn't help himself at this point, turning his hand in Connor's to give it a squeeze in his fingers, before letting it lay onto the table between them. "Look... what would you say to me asking for a doggy bag and us getting out of here?" Though his chosen words did make him pause a moment, not entirely sure if 'doggy bag' meant the same thing in the US as it did in the UK. "Doggy bag meaning, asking the staff to throw what's left of this lot in a to-go box and we head over to take in the sights like you said?" In all honesty, he'd completely lost interest in what he was eating, despite it being rather good. He wouldn't mind picking at it later on though, or maybe in the middle of the night for a little late-night feast if his stomach decided it was time to eat again.

"Call me an old romantic, but... all I'm hungry for right now... is you."

[replicantdeviancy]

anderson-residence asked: "Dad! Can we go to that new Haunted Hayride that opened up? It looks super cool and I won't be scared at all, I promise!" - Cole

@anderson-residence || Unprompted || Always Accepting

Being the child of a police lieutenant & a homicide detective, one would think that Cole would have nothing to fear. Though never intentionally, it was a fact that their son had experienced at least some exposure to his parents line of work since infancy, & he had never shown any adverse effects as he grew. In truth, he was a brave kid, never one to flinch or shy away from anything life threw his way. Nevertheless, it seemed as though the supernatural was where his limit lie. Case in point, his reaction to the previous year’s haunted attraction held at the park near Cole’s elementary school. Just the recollection of that memory had the detective hiding a small fit of laughter behind his hand. Poorly, at that. It had been so adorable how their brave little boy had clung to Hank’s side & buried his little face in the older man’s neck once he could be persuaded to pick the child up & carry him.

“You said that last time, too,” he muttered beneath his breath, defined lips pinched as he fought off the compulsion to chuckle. Sure, Cole had gotten over the whole ordeal quickly, though it clearly still bothered him enough to mention that little detail with his request. His pride must have been bruised somewhere along the way, & neither parent was the type to deny their son the chance for a learning opportunity. Connor smiled at Cole with a sense of pride & approval. “But if you want to, we can go this weekend as a family.” If he really wanted to visit this year’s haunted hayride, there was no way that his parents wouldn’t take him. & besides that, Connor wasn’t about to waste an excuse for family time & to treat himself to pumpkin spice or apple cider.

[replicantdeviancy]

                                what part of the haunted house are you?

The windows

Tell me, do you look inwards or out? You're a dreamer who feels just a little too much about things just a little too out of reach. There's a longing trapped inside of you, to be a part of the nature that you look over every day, and you resent the way people look through you with that same longing. They don't get it. You watch them in the garden, see them get absorbed into nature little by little. They don't feel it as strongly as you do. Still, when a new tenant moves in, a baby with them this time, you have to look inside as the house moves to absorb them before nature can. It hurts what remains of your heart, your still beating heart that feels just a little too much.

tagged by: Stolen from @deathlace tagging: @erobret (Sherry), @rking200 (Hank, Markus), @pleader600, Anyone who wants to!

[replicantdeviancy]

anderson-residence asked: "Daddy check out my magic trick!" Cole wiggles a paper cup around with a hole in the back for his finger to try to make it look like the cup is floating. He's doing pretty good too.

___________@anderson-residence | Unprompted | Always Accepting

It was a Saturday. Most weekends, both he & Hank had time off together. Most weekends, they had something planned as a family, or nothing planned at all, & the three of them could laze about & appreciate the peace of a relaxing day off. But today, Hank had been called in for administrative duties, something involving the discipline of another officer. Just one more part of his job, but there was mutual disappointment in the matter. Without his husband around for half of the day, the detective had decided upon a reset day of sorts. That meant cleaning the house from top to bottom & restocking things that needed to be replenished.

It was a good distraction. Connor didn’t mind domestic labor, & Hank did his equal part as a husband & a provider. They had agreed that the lieutenant would be making dinner that evening, though the idea of cleaning the house was decided upon long after the older man had rolled out of bed early that morning & headed off to the station.

Cole was supposed to be helping, too, though children were easily distracted. When the child found his dad, Connor had been elbow deep in soapy water, deep cleaning the sink, & he peered over the kitchen island, following the child’s voice. The magic trick was a welcome distraction from the monotony of household chores & the Spotify playlist over the kitchen mini-stereo. Sure, his son was supposed to be doing his laundry, but Connor couldn’t help the amused little chuckle that escaped him as he smiled that soft, proud smile. “That’s pretty neat. How did you do that?” he queried - the trick wasn’t elaborate enough for his detective’s eye to have no yet spotted the clever slight of hand, but admittedly, the boy was doing a pretty good job of it.

[replicantdeviancy]

There had been something in that rather pointed distaste from the FBI agent which had been aimed his way since the very first moment the two had met which really had the detective feeling some type of way. He was amused, almost delighted - it had come to his attention from a few very reliable sources that Nash just happened to be an unlikeable prick, the type of man who held disdain & contempt for others without any real reason besides his personal feelings. There was no logical reason for which Connor could conclude justified Nash's hatred for him, but after he had discovered it— he wanted to make it personal. He wanted to savor it, feed that pettiness inside of him & make himself entirely the problem. While the young detective was, more often than not, the absolute pinnacle of charm & demure perfection, he was also a vapid & deceitful little shit. Nash just happened to tempt fate by provoking him with undue ire.

It took a considerable effort not to allow the amusement to show itself upon his pretty visage, though there was a dark delight in his eyes are he stared down the other man without a hint of concern as to his personal well being, unmoved as the threats came & went. Oh, the agent was livid with him. Connor wanted to hold onto the memory of that vicious glare, watch it deepen as he offered a passive, almost unnervingly polite retort. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Agent Nash." Given the circumstances, his usual even toned & infallibly calm demeanor was eerie, like the calm before a hurricane. The faint smile which tipped the corners of defined lips was just the icing on the cake. "There are things involved with this case that would serve you better in ignorance. What you don't know can't hurt the investigation." Meaning that the detective didn't trust him with information. Of course, he didn't trust him. The man hadn't proven himself reliable, or anything beyond an ornery upstart. "This is my city, & this is my case. If my conditions of cooperation don't suit you, then you can return to headquarters."

CONNOR ARKEIT: I DIDN'T LIE, I SIMPLY PRESENTED A SELECTIVE TRUTH.

unsurprisingly, parker couldn't stand the detective that now spoke to him. frustration bordering on rage prickled the inside of his collar as arms cross over his chest. if looks could kill, the glare he gives now could easily cause a fatality. it's fair to say that parker didn't like most people, but the perfectly put together man who talked like he had robot parts for a voicebox had been at the top of parker's shit list since they met. and he'd been vocal about his dislike, something parker's supervisor had tried and failed to dissuade him from. his baseless hatred for connor now doubled with the knowledge that connor had lied to parker - yes, lied ; no matter how connor wanted to put it, that's what it was. and it had caused parker to look stupid - like he wasn't a professional, like he didn't know how to do his job, which is the part that pissed him off the most. parker stares at connor another moment, quiet and seething, barely blinking. 'you ever keep information like that from me again, and i'll shove your selective truth back down your throat. we clear on that, detective?' @replicantdeviancy.

[replicantdeviancy]

anderson-residence asked: "Go. To. Bed. That's an order." Some kids would bring their tired dad a blanket. Not Cole. He's in charge tonight, Connor! "And Sumo wil be your weighted blanket to keep your safe and warm and to keep you from getting out of bed."

@anderson-residence || Lack of Sleep Starters! || Accepting

The detective had been staying up late recently, busy working on a new case which had popped up only weeks before. One which had been slow going, as leads had dried up & suspects were either absent or eliminated. They were still awaiting the results of some forensic tests & the couple had been making do with what little they had to go on. Hank had been frustrated, as his usual methods hadn't produced results. He was very much still an old fashioned detective at heart, preferring time out on the field & chasing down leads as opposed to sitting around waiting. Connor, too, was much like his husband, but he had his own talents when it came to field work. The scene had held enough evidence to aid in a near-perfect reconstruction of events within his minds eye, but they still couldn't name a definitive suspect.

There had just been something bothering him, something he swore they were missing in the case notes. Thus, he had been scouring them for most of the week, which led to late nights of wakefulness. There was very little time in the day to look over a case which was still pending, as they had more on the table. Between domestic duties - of which Hank took up more than his fair share - & their job, Connor had only been able to steal moments to himself in order to look over the case. It was what had led to insomnia. He had never been one to have a quiet mind, ever the observant overthinker. So, once again, he had found himself downstairs in the livingroom at 3am looking over evidence laid all over the coffee table, a cup of tea in one hand & Sumo sleeping at his feet.

He had been so focused when Cole approached, that the suddenness of his voice startled the detective, causing him to spill a bit of tea. Thankfully, none had fallen onto the files, much to Connor's relief. Yes, they were copies, but he didn't want to make more. A frustrated sigh left him as he set his mug down & aimed a frown towards his son. "What are you doing up, young man?" he retorted, more focused on Cole than himself in his moment of annoyance. It was just too late & he hadn't been sleeping. He would surely apologize in the morning. "I know I've asked that you not sneak up on me like that. You scared me." He had caught Sumo's attention, as well, the Saint Bernard's head having risen & ears perked as he let out a thin whine of complaint. He was quick to lay back down again, unbothered by Cole's presence. Not like his father, who was more upset at being called out than anything.

Connor didn't try to cover up any of the documents that were laying out, the photos. Cole was used to these kinds of things, used to his parents line of work. It might have been a controversial move, but Connor was careful & he kept a sharp eye on the boy's mental well being. In some instances, it was better to slowly introduce the darkness's of the world rather than shield Cole from it.

[replicantdeviancy]

The nonchalant response wasn’t necessarily unexpected. Quite the opposite, in fact, which was just so inline with Ash’s personality. The detective snorted softly with amusement, & casually flopped back into his chair. “Shit. I feel totally called out right now,” he teased, a goofy little smile warming his features. Was he depressed? Absolutely, but he liked to see himself as more of a realist than anything. It wasn’t denial if it was funny. “Just having an off day, I think. The caffeine definitely did not hit right this morning.” Not to mention there were no active cases lately, which was a positive, of course. Maybe he should have considered that a win & gone out for the day. Actually– “I should probably get out of the office. What do you think?”

@grcccvy || ˾ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ  ̚

[replicantdeviancy]

New headcanon!: I just discovered this while looking for the perfect model of electric car for my boy. It's the Detroit Electric SP:01. Currently, it's a prototype, but in 2038? Well, who knows? ;)

[replicantdeviancy]

@anderson-residence asked:

“ if we’re going to make a deal, you’re gonna have to ask for something a little more rational than that.” - Cole who was simply asked to go to bed at a reasonable hour but decided on negotiation. Enjoy Dads!

It had been a quiet night, up until that point. After dinner, the family had settled in for a little relaxing evening, something which had become rare the last few weeks before their most recent case had been closed. Cole had been amiable to doing his homework, with a little help from Connor, of course. The child didn’t need the help - he was whip-smart, just like his dad, - but he liked the company. Connor didn’t mind. He’d been fraught over the inability to spend more time with their son as their workload had increased. It was a balm on his soul to have those little moments of closeness.

But as the hour grew later & the evening progressed, the detective was becoming more inclined towards spending some alone time with his husband. He found the lieutenant in the living room, parked in his favorite chair, reading glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose as he enjoyed one of his many books. One Hank had read before, though it was no surprise that he’d find interest in the story again. Paperback romance’s really did it for him, & his doting husband wasn’t one to argue, if the sweet smile he’d aimed Hanks way was any indication.

Connor had taken to setting himself across the larger mans lap, never shy about wanting for attention. Hank had forgotten all about his book in a heartbeat, all of his focus directed towards the man he’d fallen for all those years ago.

Of course, their cuddling session hadn’t remained quiet, & Cole had made it his mission to argue a later bedtime with them. Eloquently, as well - he really did take after his dad. Even Connor was a bit taken aback, but whereas Hank was ready to end the games & send the boy off to his room, the younger male chose a different path; negotiation. Never let it be said that Connor wasn’t a brilliant strategist. He knew just how to get their son to comply, ever taking those crucial moments to gathering information, to find understanding in Coles behavior before weighing options. He wouldn’t admit that it was exactly how he treated their suspects, but his husband recognized the patterns, noted the similar beats in his responses, the practiced cadence of his dusky voice.

Connor might have been an incredible profiler & even better detective, but he could never fool the man he married. Hank would never call him out on it, not when they weren’t alone, but he would gladly sit back & watch the pretty boy work.

Weight shifted & long legs reached the floor as Connor moved to stand, moving towards their son with a casual but affirming stride. As always when dealing with their son, his visage was awash with a gentle warmth. He was so patient, so reasonable. Cole rarely found a reason to keep arguing, especially when he had already gotten what he wanted. Connor knew the boy wanted attention more than he did to go to bed later. Even with permission, he’d grow weary & fall asleep splayed out awkwardly on his bed or the couch with his tablet on the ground, still playing some video or a digital book he’d been reading until his eyelids got too heavy.

Of course, his dad already knew this & chose compromise, all while proposing a small challenge Cole wouldn't be able to refuse. “How about this?” he began, offering a hand to take. “I’ll come up, tuck you into bed, & I’ll read to you. Any book you like. I’ll read as long as you can stay awake.” A sweet smile, softly arched brows raising gently with a mild insistence. “Deal?”

[replicantdeviancy]

"shh !!  Dad! there’s somebody in the house!" Cole stands at the side of Hank and Connor's bed, a terrified look on his face.

The first of the two parents drifting unwittingly out of dreamland to recognize that they weren’t alone in their bedroom was Hank. The presence of a smaller, fidgety body looming at his bedside serve to jolt him - years of police work had hardened him, honed certain neural pathways into his brain that couldn’t be smoothed away, no matter how many years of fatherhood experience he boasted. Startled out of sleep, baser instincts took hold & the older man sat up to admonish the child… only to pause when his mind registered just what Cole had said.

Someone was in the house.

Was there an intruder in their home?

“ —Cole?” Of course, the nocturnal disturbance of juvenile visitation had drawn Connor out of his slumber. Hank turned to his husband at his side, still only half awake yet vividly alert. The smaller form of his sleepy mate enveloped in shadows, only the barest hint of illumination from the far off streetlamps through the blinds granting the lieutenant clarity of his presence. The dark lump in the covers shifted & for a moment Hank thought to alert the younger to their sons claims. But as a piercing light from Connors phone shone briefly like a beacon in the blackness, the sense of urgency slowly stilled within.

Connor, with his cooler head & ever present forethought, was checking the notifications on their home security system. Though his eyes squinted against the intrusive illumination, struggling without the aid of his contact lenses, he was dutiful in his effort. Short lived, as he soon huffed a tired sigh & the world fell into darkness once more. Hank heard the distinct sounds of the phone being set on the side table & he, too, felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. His sleep addled brain had been so easily influenced to anxiety - Connor wouldn’t have been so calm if there had really been something to fret about.

A small, measured sound of mild strain & abrupt relaxation soothed at Hanks ears, the shift of Connors slender body next to his in the bed telling the lieutenant that his husband was stretching. His languorous response dispelled the remainder of Hanks slow burning startle & he felt it drift away as his larger frame relaxed. Yet the detective didn’t remain idle long, inviting Cole into his arms with an open reach & comforting words.

“Come here, baby,” he soothed. “Nothing is going to get you. We’re here.”

[replicantdeviancy]

        ┌               trepidaticn asked:                               “ looks like we’re walking from here. ” (Kim @ Connor?)                                                                                                                                  ┘

                             @trepidaticn​ || Resident Evil 2 Starters || Accepting

                  Hazelnut hues stared a long moment over the dashboard towards the pathway laid out before them, contemplating silently. It looked to be only a short walk towards their destination of the old Ford factory - the roadway towards it had been blocked off years ago by the city & never opened again, though apparently people still made their way out there from time to time. A call had come in alleging a body had been found, & the officer whom had gone out to investigate the call radioed in expressing suspected foul play. In an area sparse yet well known by gang members, junkies & hoodlums, someone had dropped a body. That was why Connor was there. However, his guest hadn’t yet stated his reasons for the interest in accompanying him. Either way, the young detective didn’t mind. Lieutenant Kitsuragi was intriguing & friendly company.

                  Connor shut the car off & unlatched his seatbelt, moving to exit the vehicle, though not before doublechecking the small collection of items attached to his well kept leather belt; side arm, flashlight, badge, extra magazine. He gathered his favored leather jacket from the back seat of the car as he offered his companion a little assuring smile.  ❝ I guess so, ❞   he replied & climbed out of the vehicle. The evening air was cool & smelled of dirt & aging urban decay, the thick scent of a dying city prevalent. It was something that reminded Connor of his younger years & he sighed a little with nostalgia as he slipped his jacket on over his pristine buttondown & tie, shielding his slender frame from the chilly night air. The door was shut & his flashlight retrieved, switched on. By the lights of rolling red & blue camped not far away in another site, he could tell they weren’t the first ones on scene by any means. Passingly, Connor wondered if Hank would be there, or any of his favorite CSI personnel.

                  He began making his way towards the factory, only stopping to look back over his shoulder at Kim & lock the car with a click of the remote.  ❝ Come on, this way. I’m sure they’re waiting for us, Lieutenant. ❞

[replicantdeviancy]

                  What the hell did you get yourself into this time, Arkeit…?

                  As consciousness returned, his sight did not. Only awareness came to the forefront of his mind & with it sensation, sound, though minute & dissipated. A thin whine of tinnitus hung in his ears, head throbbing with every beat of his heart. An ache which stemmed from a determinable point, one a few inches shy of his left temple. It didn’t take long for the detective to realize he was bound, wrists tied with something skinny & plastic, just a little too tight. Zip ties, perhaps - he didn’t know for certain. His slender frame rest upon the cold ground, & his eyes were covered by something wrapped snug around the upper half of his head. He couldn't tell if it were leather or rubber, but it felt like a mask; one of those types.

                  The gravity of his situation begun to dawn on him as memories returned, recollections of just what he had been doing & what had been discovered. Rebirth. Only a drop in the bucket, he imagined, but somehow this infiltration effort felt inconsequential when compared to what was at stake. An attempt to right himself into a sitting position proved his ankles were secured, too, the rattle of chains faint but present.   ❝ ...Shit. ❞   A soft utterance fell from his lips & Connor listened intently, if only to gain some understanding of his surroundings & how he might escape them.

@neonrebirth​ //  ˢᵘᵇʳᵒᵘᵗᶦᶰᵉ ᴵᶰᶦᵗᶦᵃᶫᶦᶻᵃᵗᶦᵒᶰ - ˾ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ ̚  - ᴱˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᵉ // Sinister

[replicantdeviancy]

                  The presence of the familiar face which came to sit beside him drew a small smile onto the detective’s lips. Drowning in life? Today? Yes. Always. There was always so much & so little time in the day. Moments like this, Connor wished he was some kind of machine, superhuman & that sleep was unnecessary. If he were, perhaps these cases would be easily to solve. Or perhaps he would burn out completely. As it was, a latte & a cigarette were the next best choice. He didn’t have time to rest, not with recent events.   ❝ I guess you could say that, ❞   he replied with a small hint of laughter in  his voice, & his lean frame twisted just enough to partially face the girl at his side.   ❝ Beverly, right? I think we’ve met briefly before. ❞   Beverly Marsh from Maine - that was the extent of his knowledge of her. Admittedly, the young detective didn’t have much of a social life & if she wasn’t part of a murder investigation in the last few months, he hadn't had the time to get to know her. But she was familiar, & his memory never lied. 

@infernalrampage​ //  ˢᵘᵇʳᵒᵘᵗᶦᶰᵉ ᴵᶰᶦᵗᶦᵃᶫᶦᶻᵃᵗᶦᵒᶰ  - ˾ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ  ̚   - ᴱˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᵉ

[replicantdeviancy]

                           ┌                                         herflame asked:                                                    “Well. That’s a lot of blood.”                                                                                                               ┘

                                  @herflame​ ||  Vampire starters  ||  Accepting

                  There was a wince somewhere in the back of Connor’s mind, a reflex his subconscious wanted to respond to while his body refused to participate, already bathed in the shallows of numbness which followed the high of adrenaline. So as he was called out ( undoubtedly, he looked like hell ) the detective did not respond with any gusto. It took everything in him to do more than simply sigh through his nose & offered a mirthless, almost guilty smile.   ❝ Not all of it is mine... ❞   Now he did nearly wince, having realized the implications of his words. He reacted in kind; with gallows humor, his pretty visage taking on the expression of an awkward kid who knew full well he was in a no win social situation. For once the detective looked his age.   ❝ That doesn’t sound better---  Look, there’s an explanation & it only somewhat involves homicide. ❞   Of course not of his own doing, but explaining the presence of a killer somewhere on the premises came with consequences & potential panic.

                  It was his own fault, really, for not having cleared the scene. The young detective imagined he had done a good enough job sweeping the area for civilians but apparently someone had slipped through & caught him soaked in blood. Crimson marked his hands & clothing, the once pristine white of his button down shirt, the dark wash jeans. His tie was long gone, used as a makeshift tourniquet with less than favorable results. He hadn’t wanted it back. It didn’t matter in the long run. Connor had to deal with the situation at hand. Crimson stained palms raised defensively, passive. He held the womans gaze.    ❝ I don’t want to alarm you but there’s a killer on the loose. & as undoubtedly suspicious as I look right now, I’m the good guy. ❞   Relatively. He wasn’t going to get into semantics.   ❝ I’m Connor. I’m a detective. ❞    He supposed that was meant to instill some kind of trust but by the look of things, she had a right to be skeptical.

[replicantdeviancy]

loyalandroid·:

“Well, lucky for you, I’m pretty tough,” he smiled. It was a slight tease, but also the truth. CC and Connor couldn’t look more different from one another if they tried, but the results of a brawl would be the same regardless. CC looked like he could take on a group of men in a fight, and he certainly could. He was tall and he was built. Not many would think of him as anything less than a threat. Though everyone that knew him knew that he was a giant teddy bear. Connor looked like a sweet pretty face that couldn’t hold his own in a fight. But CC knew better. The younger detective could be dangerous. He proved that time and time again, and now was no different. People had underestimated him and gotten killed because of it. Served them right.

“Come on. I know you’re trying to look out for everyone else, but let me look out for you. At least for a little bit. I have an apartment. I think you should come home with me, get cleaned up, eat, and get some sleep.” He tossed out his idea then, being straight up with the other now. “I was a soldier, Con. I can hold my own. I’ll stay up and keep an eye on things while you take the time to catch up on what you need. Can’t save the world if you’re passed out at your desk from lack of sleep.” He didn’t say it out loud, but the fact that CC didn’t have any family was an added benefit as well. There was no leverage to threaten him with. He lived on his own, and had no family that he knew of. His dad died before he was born and his mom had gotten sick and passed away when he was sixteen. If someone wanted to get to CC, they would have to deal with him themselves. Not many would be up for that challenge. If they were, then he was more then prepared to fight.

“I’m just looking out for you is all. I’m not trying to shield you away from the world. I just want to charge through it with you.” He hoped that Connor would take him up on his offer. The other needed somewhere safe to go, and Cade figured he was the best option. Clearly, people were after him, and Connor didn’t want them targeting anyone else. If the other went to a hotel to sleep, he was vulnerable. If he went to his family, they would be in danger. At least with Cade, he could stay awake and watch over things while Connor slept, and there was no family to be put in danger. “You’re not an android Connor. You can’t keep pushing like this. It’s just gonna make things harder and more dangerous.”

He needed a refuge, and CC just wanted to be there to offer it to him. “My door is always open to you. Let me help you get into a better state so you can show these bastards that the fucked with the wrong people.” A rare curse from the usually mild-mannered detective. 

                  The rain outside which pattered quietly upon the brick & rooftop of the building was the only sound that broke the long silence that followed. It was a pensive moment, Connor in a state of exhaustion well met & fought off with every ounce of his will. & the detective had such a very strong will, a need to keep going, to finish this before he could allow himself to rest. Cases like this could eat at him, rob him of sleep as he could not easily shut his brain off long enough to find any meaningful shut-eye. It was no wonder he was such a workaholic. Connor was practically a machine when it came to his job, seemingly tireless, managing to work for days without proper sleep & continue to get results. Many didn’t understand the consequences of a mind such as his, the lengths that he went to maintain a façade of chipper, professional normalcy. But like this, bruised & sore, wet from the rain & dirtied with the muck off the streets, he was left exposed.

                  Somehow Connor didn’t mind being seen like this by CC, & it wasn’t due to his military experience, though elements of it did help. The man wasn’t shocked to see the dark circles which painted the thin, soft flesh beneath his eyes, darkened eyelids freed from the color correction of concealer washed away by the scuffle. He wasn’t off put by the numbness of a failed façade, Connor’s constant efforts to hide away the disorders created from childhood trauma & invalidation yet stemmed from brain chemistry. Like Hank, to CC Connor hoped his strange mind was useful more than it was grotesque. He didn’t question why there was no mention of the deaths at his hands, why it didn’t bother him that his hand had been forced & he’d been made to pull the trigger. Only the detectives superiors had access to his files but there were signs. Connor expected CC had seen his share of troubled minds during & after active duty.

                  He was glad there was no mention of it, no questions towards anything other than his own physical wellbeing, his safety. Cade just wanted his friend safe. It helped more than he knew. Contemplative, Connor sat a long moment, his gaze lowered yet it wasn't far off. He was focused & thinking hard, his clever brain deducing the potential statistical calculations of either choice made, any variables within. Weighing his options on more than an educated guess - Connor was good at predicting probability. His whole family was. It was another reason the brothers were so dangerous; they could predict the moves another would make before they did so, whether in real time or the butterfly effects of decisions made & logical reasoning. Connor knew his brothers would be safe. If he texted them or called, they would heed his warning & be on guard. He also knew CC wouldn't give up on him should he refuse his help.

                  A small smile, the first true one since coming here, spread soft over his damaged features. He was tired & troubled, but grateful. Those warm brown eyes rose to meet those of his friend & immediately Connor knew CC was being completely sincere. He was a good man, one who needed to help others in times of their own need. A small sigh escaped him through his nose, head tilted a degree to the side as some of that built tension left slim but toned shoulders.   ❝ Okay. ❞   Finally, he agreed, though there were demands to be made.   ❝ I’m using your shower, though. ❞   He would also need a change of clothes. Connor knew he couldn’t go home; not yet. He wasn’t stupid enough to make the mistake of returning to his apartment, as any ambush would certainly happen at a place he was most vulnerable, most comfortable. True the security into his building was tight, as it was one of the higher end locations in the city, but a highly organized & intelligent assassin would have no trouble getting in if they wanted to. Someone who fit the profile of the person, or people, he was after.