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the-travelling-witch · 10 months ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: in a world where androids have been established in everyday life, it should not come as a surprise to find one setting up shop next to you. shouto, however, seems to have a mind of his own, especially when he does things you are sure are not part of his programming. it begs the question, is there a line where programming ends and humanity starts?

pairing: android! shouto x florist! reader (gn)

warnings: fluff/ slice of life; assault (not described in graphic detail), no beta readers (this isn’t the omegaverse)

a/n: i have returned!! this was originally meant to be my piece for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab (go check it out!) tbh, i have so many hcs about these two now ♡

bnha masterlist

It was a rather pleasant morning, with the sun not scorching down on the few pedestrians out and about, as you walked to work. You wouldn’t say you were as susceptible to the hot season as others, nonetheless you were grateful it wasn’t sweltering quite yet. Still, you preferred the temperatures of the day over the incessant chill the night brought.

Leaving the shade of the automatically operated parasol spanning the pedestrian crossing, your gaze was automatically drawn to the forest green of your shop’s awning standing out against the city’s backdrop. With habitual ease, your mind started running through your tasks for the day until your attention was caught by movement around the storefront directly next to yours.

Ever since you had started your florist business, the building next to yours had been empty. Occasionally, potential tenants had come to inspect it, but nothing had ever become of those visits. Now it appeared as if someone had taken up shop there, if the minimalist sign out front was anything to go by.

Swiping your wrist over the scanner partially covered by the flower shelves displaying plants less susceptible to heat, the temperate air from inside welcomed you in and a voice command later ambient music floated through the humble room. There was still a bit of time before you’d be open for business, so you thought now would be as good a time as any to introduce yourself to the new face around.

After a bit of consideration, you picked up a small plant and selected a fitting pot for the little fellow before taking a breather and smoothing down your clothes. Then, with your welcoming gift in hand, you entered the shop, the layout of which mirrored yours. But instead of shelves with lush plant life, there wasn’t much to be found here at all, except for a few tools and spare parts strewn across what you thought to be the counter. Rustling could be heard from the room behind it.

“Hello?” You tentatively called out, hands fidgeting with the ceramic between your palms as you watched dust particles floating through the streaks of morning sun falling through the shop front.

At your announcement, the noises stopped and someone appeared in the doorway. And the sight knocked all breath from your lungs. The man in front of you was gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Two striking, hetero chromic eyes, one steel-grey and the other blue like a lagoon, studied you from under white and crimson strands as he crossed his lean arms over his chest. His symmetrical and flawless features coupled with his build would have made it hard to believe he was real if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. The only thing that could possibly be considered a flaw was what looked like a burn scar over his left eye, but even that did nothing to hinder his beauty. Actually, it somehow seemed to enhance it.

“Can I help you?” Of course his voice was smooth and rich too, the kind you could listen to for hours. His gaze flickered over to the planter in your arm. “I am sorry but I cannot fix that.”

“Fix it?” You questioned, confusion apparent on your face as you tried to follow the conversation that had only just started.

“Yes. I am a mechanic, so it is reasonable to assume people would come in to have something repaired.” The cadence of his voice had not wavered at all, his neutral tone making it hard to decipher whether he was joking or dead serious. “Seeing as the item you are bringing in is made up of organic matter, I cannot fix it.”

“Oh uhm.. That’s not–” You cleared your throat, sorting your thoughts with a shake of your head. Better to start this interaction on fresh soil. “I didn’t come over to have something repaired, I just wanted to introduce myself since I run the florist shop directly next to yours. I’ve never had a neighbour in the few years since I’ve started, so I just wanted to say hi to the new face around. Sorry for just barging in.”

“Given that the door was unlocked, your action cannot be considered ‘barging in’, as having people come inside is within the expectations for owning a shop.” Again, you weren’t sure if he was pulling your leg or if he was just a very factual person, but you thought his matter fact attitude was charming in its own way. “You stated you were here to introduce yourself. To my knowledge this constitutes the exchange of names. My name is Shouto.”

You gave him your name in return, then stepped forward and planted the pot on a free space of the counter. Watching for his reaction, his blue eye caught the sun’s rays and almost seemed to illuminate as he looked at the planter. “I brought this as a house -or well, shop- warming gift. It’s a jade pothos and really easy to care for, since it very clearly indicates its needs–”

“It tolerates a wide variety of temperatures and does well in indirect sunlight, though the solid green leaves of the jade variety make it best suited for low light among the pothos species. The watering schedule depends on the climate, yet the roots should not be kept too wet since they are subject to root rot,” Shouto spoke clearly, finishing your explanation for you. “Did I get that right?”

“Yeah! Wow, I’m impressed! Maybe I should have brought you a more advanced plant after all,” you laughed, happy to leave your gift in capable hands. “If it turns out you have a green thumb on top of all that knowledge, I might have to ask you to start working in my shop.”

Shouto stared at you and blinked, then brought up his hands to inspect his thumbs. “My fingers all seem to be of a fair complexion, so I must decline. I will notify you if this condition changes.”

Seriously, this guy was going to kill you and you couldn’t suppress an amused snort. “Sure, please do. Though I have to say, it’s been a while since I saw a mechanic. Most of the work seems to be taken care of by repair droids.”

“Someone has to repair the repair droids,” he replied. With anyone else, you would have read it as a joke but his line delivery remained so neutral, you weren’t sure he intended it as one.

“Fair enough,” you chuckled, fingers idly tapping along the wooden desk. “Gotta admit, I just expected another android to take care of that…”

When you looked at him again, there was no missing it this time. His left iris flickered blue, exactly like the processing unit in an android would when evaluating new information.

Oh.

“I see how it is,” you sighed, smiling defeatedly. “At least my reasoning was sound, if this is anything to go by.”

“I cannot read your expression right now,” Shouto admitted openly, slightly tilting his head. “Are you upset? Uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m not much of anything right now,” you said, trying to figure out your feelings for yourself. Of course, you felt a little dumb not noticing it sooner, but in your defence, you’d only ever seen escort droids this gorgeous next to celebrities at fancy events. You yourself had never been in the market for one, considering you were neither lonely enough nor attending events formal enough. Besides, you weren’t in the pay class to buy one anyway. So your interaction with androids was generally limited to repair and maintenance droids as well as the courier drones zooming all over the city. Besides seeing this kind of model apparently working independently was odd in and of itself. “In any case, this doesn’t change anything.”

“It does not?” He inquired, sounding almost… curious?

“You’re still my new neighbour, after all.” The corners of your lips lifted, a little more uncertain than before, and you drummed the tips of your fingers against the surface of the counter while getting ready to leave. “Anyhow, I shouldn’t bother you any longer, I’m sure you still have a lot of stuff to set up. If you ever want to get your plant there a friend, you know where to find me. Until then, don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Being a stranger is impossible, since we have already exchanged personal information, such as our name and career path. According to social etiquette that makes us acquaintances.” Maybe you imagined it but it seemed as if there was a small smile tugging on his lips. “I have also compared your visit today with the definition of ‘bother’ and found no overlap.”

“Isn’t that a relief,” you mused before stepping into the morning sun again. “Good luck with the shop.”

Shouto watched as you waved at him through the dull glass of the storefront, the processing notification in the top right corner of his display still turning. Then his gaze fell on the green organism in front of him. It showed no signs of loneliness yet.

From then on out, Shouto and you were exactly as per his definition; acquaintances, nothing less but also nothing more. You made it a point to greet him when you ran into each other in the morning and he’d politely greet you back, as by the social norm, but the android never took the initiative in calling out to you. For some odd reason, this planted a seed of unease in your chest, which you couldn’t uproot but very well push aside. Shouto didn’t seem keen on sharing his identity with people, wearing long sleeves and gloves to hide any clues that might give him away and a very selfish part of you felt a guilty spark of pride for knowing better. It was wrong to feel satisfied by having knowledge someone wasn’t keen on sharing but feelings couldn’t be helped, could they?

Besides, what would you do once you overcame the initial gap between you? Was that even a good idea? Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there, you supposed.

This distanced dance around one another continued for a good while, until circumstance had other plans for you. One fateful morning, you swiped your hand over the censor to your shop, only to be hit by a swell of muggy air, every step inside making your clothes cling to your skin a little more. Notably, the usually faint but still audible whirring of your AC was absent and you groaned. Sure, the heat was unpleasant but ultimately not disastrous for you. The plants in your shop, however, would not take to it kindly for longer periods.

Needless to say, you spent the entire morning dialling repair service numbers between attending to customers fanning themselves, but to no avail. With the way repair droids had seemingly popped out of the ground like daisies over the last decade or so, you were somewhat dumbfounded to hear nobody would be able to send someone to help fix your problem, even if your livelihood might depend on it. That was when your brain connected the right synapses to figure out a solution.

After debating it for the rest of the morning, come your lunch break, you found yourself walking into a shop nearly identical to yours, just one door over. It wasn’t as empty as the first time you entered but you got the sense that Shouto wasn’t big on interior decoration past the most basic of furniture. You had timed your visit well though, apparent by the fact you were the only customer at the time. At the chime of the little bell over the door, there was rustling in the back, the clank of metal against something wooden, before a familiar figure appeared behind the counter.

“How may I help you?” Shouto asked neutrally, the statement rolling off his tongue like one of those retro voicemails people used to have way back when. Something akin to recognition crossed his face and you reminded yourself that those beautifully attentive eyes of his probably just compared you to a data bank of people he’d encountered before. “It is you.”

“I guess it is,” you awkwardly laughed at the blank statement. Your gaze shifted to your twiddling thumbs, flickered across the android’s face and then fell on a lush jade porthos sitting idly on the desk. “Uhm so, my AC broke some time tonight and I need it to maintain a prosperous environment for the plants but nowhere I called is free today. I wanted to ask if you could maybe take a look? I’ll pay you, of course.”

“Sure,” he agreed easily enough that it made you pause for a second. But before you could gather your thoughts, Shouto had already rounded the counter and joined you. “I am not specialised in air conditioning systems, but it should not pose a problem.”

And just like that you were showing him through your shop and to the back room, the mechanic completely unaffected by the sweltering heat stoked by the midday’s sun. If you hadn’t known he was an android, you would have had your suspicions the moment not a single bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Heterochromic eyes scanned your -admittedly not uptodate- technology before fixing on the AC unit nestled in between.

Shouto examined the device briefly before doing something so interestingly peculiar, you were sure this was a part about him he didn’t show others all that often. In a stellar impression of a swiss army knife, the tip of his index finger gave way to a joint that was more screwdriver than anything else and he quickly unscrewed the cover to take a look at the wiring underneath.

“It is only a minor issue,” Shouto said, effectively ripping you out of your daze. “I will be able to fix it without ordering any spare parts, which is good, since manufacturers have already stopped selling spare parts for this model.”

“Is this a subtle way of telling me to invest in a newer one?” You chuckled bashfully, well aware that the state of your electronics was probably laughable to an android as advanced as him.

“I am merely stating the facts,” he replied. If it were another human, you would almost recognise his tone as teasing. But your straight-laced neighbour was most likely just running diagnostics on the optimal service life of your AC and booting up a cost-benefit analysis of buying a newer one.

You watched him work with fascination, Shouto apparently completely undisturbed by your intrigued glances as his fingers worked over the wiring and circuits with mesmerising ease, speed and precision. Before you knew it, the AC sat back in its place fully assembled and contentedly whirring as it had been doing for years. With equal rapture your eyes were still following Shouto’s movement as he stood to his full height again, pulling his black gloves back over his hands. Tearing your gaze away from him, you brushed some plant soil off your clothes and cleared your throat. “So, how much is it going to be?”

“I will not be charging you for this,” Shouto said, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Please regard it as compensation for the plant you gave me.”

“The pothos was a gift, you know,” you chuckled, twisting your fingers together just to have them do something. Again you found it unexplainably difficult to keep eye contact with him and your gaze flitted about, trying to push away the realisation dawning on you. “The point of gifts is that you don’t owe people anything.”

Somewhen between watching Shouto work on your AC unit and trying to navigate this conversation, you had achieved a form of clarity on why you found it hard to keep him off your mind. The way your attention kept drawing back to him had nothing to do with him being the first humanoid android you’d met. It reminded you of the way your eyes always subconsciously locked onto the back of your crush’s head during classes a decades ago, in a way that was innocent and harmless. Unlike the feelings stigmatised by society which now tugged at your heartstrings. You could almost hear your parents scoffing at you for even considering having any sort of feelings for a pile of cold metal that just mimicked having human emotions.

“Then please regard this as a gift as well.” Dual toned eyes studied your face intently as he did last time as well and you convinced yourself that their beauty was helped by the fact that they were literally unreal. “And feel free to ask for my help again in the future. In comparison to human interactions, I find it easier to understand machines.”

“Well, that’s not surprising, is it?” And then you blurted out the worst thing you could have said. “It’s not like you’re familiar with real emotions that aren’t part of your coding.”

“Human emotions are largely caused by their brains releasing certain neurotransmitters upon receiving new information. You learn which situations are supposed to make you happy or should cause you stress as you grow up.” There was hardly any other description befitting of what you saw cast over his face other than pain and sadness. However, there was no surprise there, only muted resignation. Simply put, you could not attribute the cadence of his voice or the subtle shift in his expression to anything but genuine emotion. “I fail to see how that is so different from me being programmed to experience a response upon certain triggers being activated.”

Yeah, you immediately knew you fucked up. Not just by the heavy weight settling in your chest as you retraced the awfully insensitive phrasing you had tossed out mindlessly, but also by the way Shouto turned wordlessly and strode towards the front door.

“Shouto, wait! I didn’t mean it like that–” You only heard the familiar ring of the door bell.

As the air in your shop slowly cleared of the oppressing air, your skin prickled more than it had in the heat standing there alone. And just like that, the shaky bridge between you went up in smoke.

For the next week, there was no response when you greeted Shouto in the morning and after that the greeting died on your tongue when you saw him. And it wasn’t like you could blame him for it either. You’d hurt him and it wasn’t your decision to make if he forgave you, no matter how much you wished to apologise earnestly. For now, all you could do was give him the space he needed and accept whatever conclusion he came to. It was the only fair thing for you to do.

Still, it was one of the things you were mulling over as you locked the shop one night. Some necessary organising had kept you longer than usual and you were considering your late dinner options with half a mind as you made your way home. The streetlights provided as much light as they could, but with the moon hidden behind a thick duvet of clouds, the streets were tinged a steely grey. Despite the bustling nightlife in other parts of the city, the roads here were nearly empty and desolate, the quiet only adding to the unnerving discomfort making the hair in the back of your neck raise. Shivering, you picked up the pace.

Some people claimed they had very accurate intuition, a sort of sixth sense for when things were about to go wrong. Perhaps you should count yourself among them, because you learnt there was a good reason why your gut feeling had you looking over your shoulder every other metre. You didn’t make it far on your way home until a strong hand yanked you off the pavement and into a dimly lit alleyway.

The next few minutes were a blur of your eyes frantically searching for a way out as your blood was pounding in your ears in time with your erratic heart beat. You didn’t even understand what the men in front of you wanted but you knew they were threatening you as you shrieked for them to let you go, trying to jerk your wrist from a grip made of iron. Your breathing became more and more laboured with panic and exertion, shutting your eyes and willing the images of what would happen to you out of your mind until–

The resistance gave way and you nearly fell backwards from your struggle. Somehow you caught yourself amidst your stumbling but when you looked straight ahead, your mind didn’t quite catch up with your eyes. There was a flash of white and red, someone groaning in pain, the thud of bodies hitting the floor and then there was Shouto. He was calling your name as from underwater and you thought he was asking you if you could walk, to which you dazedly nodded.

A heavy arm wrapped around your middle but you found you didn’t feel caged this time, its weight rather comforting, as he led you down the familiar street. On autopilot, you opened the door of your shop and let him navigate you to a backroom. The secure familiarity of your surroundings managed to ease you out of your brain and back into reality as you took in a shuddering breath.

You had known Shouto was there but, finally, you were actually aware of him in front of you, his clear eyes scanning you up and down. Maybe it was because you did not want to think about what had just happened or because seeing him in front of you reminded you of what you’d wanted to tell him for a while now, but the words left your mouth before you could completely think about them once again. “Shouto, I’m so sorry.”

“This situation is not your fault–”

“For what I said the last time we spoke, I mean,” you corrected yourself. As if willing your brain to form coherent sentences, you brought a hand up to rub at your temple. “I know I can’t take back what I told you but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to be offensive. Not that that makes it any better or in any way okay.”

When you dared to look back at Shouto for his reaction, you found that his gaze wasn’t quite meeting yours, his eyes instead focusing on something just shy of them. It took you a few seconds to realise that he was looking at the hand that had come up to rest next to your face, attention continuously following it as you brought it in front of your chest.

“You are hurt. I will download a first aid protocol,” he merely said, his tone unreadable to you. You couldn’t be sure if he was quite aware of his actions as he reached forward to take your hand into his. The synthetic skin of his fingers, however, was tinged with the coldness of the night air in a way you weren’t expecting and it made you flinch away from his hold. At this point you were certain you were the only person who continued to paint that pained expression on his fair features. “Sorry, I did not–”

“No, uhm it’s okay, you just startled me a little, that’s all,” you tried to reassure him, gingerly holding your arm out to him again. This time around, he carefully studied your face before he slid his smooth palm under your calloused one to lift your wrist level with his studious eyes.

While the texture of his hand imitated human skin, there was unmistakably less give to it, proof of the fact that whatever was underneath was harder than bones. It didn’t frighten you in the slightest, not when it was Shouto. Only in contrast with his gentle hold did it register how much your wrist throbbed with residual pain from where the man had gripped you with so much excessive force.

“I was well aware that humans were fragile beings,” Shouto mumbled, seemingly more so to himself than to you, as a light flickered behind his left iris. “But it has never bothered me as much as it does right now. Why?”

The atmosphere in your shop had shifted so seamlessly you would hardly notice it if it wasn’t for the sudden urge to whisper in order not to shatter it. With your hand still in his, you asked the question that had been burning in your mind for a long time. “Shouto, who are you?”

It was obvious he wasn’t one of those crudely shaped repair or service droids, which had originally led you to believe he was an escort droid, especially considering just how handsome his striking features were. You’d thought the dual-toned hair and eyes were a feature meant to attract attention and allure people with their mesmerising appearance, but the discoloured skin around his left eye seemed to tell a different story.

The events of this night cast another layer of doubt over your rationalisation. Earlier, what startled you hadn’t been the material of his hand but how cool it was to the touch. Escort droids normally had some kind of component that imitated the warmth of human skin, so as to not break the immersion. Certainly, whatever Shouto’s purpose had been before moving into a neglected shop had not required him to pose as human on contact. It apparently had, however, required him to know fighting techniques as you remembered the scene in the alley. Now that the first wave of shock had worn off, you could picture clearly how he had knocked your attackers out swiftly. Another thing an escort droid's programming would not allow him to do.

Shouto sighed deeply despite technically not needing to, his eyes fluttering shut and hiding whatever emotion you could have seen in them. “You might not like what I would have to tell you if you ask that.”

“It’ll be fine as long as it's the truth, I promise.” Hoping to show him that you wouldn’t be going anywhere, you laced your fingers together, fingertips brushing against synthetic knuckles. “But I want to get to know you more, learn about your past and your experiences and your view on things. I want to know where the two of us are different and where we are alike”

“Are you saying you want to progress past being acquaintances?” By now Shouto was blinking at you again, his head tilted slightly sidewards in what you interpreted as curiosity.

“I’d like that very much,” you assured, giving him a tiny smile.

This time you could be certain that he mirrored your expression, making him look so peaceful and nearly innocent. It was a shame it could only last so long with the topic that had been broached. “Are you familiar with Todoroki Inc.?”, he asked.

“The weapons manufacturer?” You tilted your head too as you clarified. “Yeah I heard they supply most of the military’s gear.”

“Well for years their research has been focused on producing a new combat unit. An android that was more durable, more deadly and less human than normal soldiers,” Shouto explained. His hand twitched in yours as he continued. “I think there were… 3 prototypes before me, but I cannot be sure. All I know for certain is that I was their first fully realised model that was sent out for testing on various missions. I won’t go into detail on what that entailed but it was during one such mission that something went wrong.

“It might have been a grenade that hit me,” the fingers of his free hand tapped against the left side of his head, “and it damaged quite a lot of hardware. Because we were far from the main lab, they didn’t have a lot of choice in which spare parts to use, which is why not everything was restored to match, appearance-wise. It was more important that I’d be functional again.”

“Oh Shouto, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry,” you tried to convey your empathy, not sure how you could otherwise at this revelation. Gently, you raised your hand to his face, silently asking for permission, before brushing the crimson strands out of his face. Yes, the skin didn’t match colourwise, but whoever performed the graft definitely knew what they were doing, the transition as smooth as possible. “Did it hurt?”

“I don’t experience pain the same way you do, so I wouldn’t say it hurt. At the time I was more concerned about what would happen if we returned to the headquarters.” A beat of silence passed as you waited for Shouto to continue. “Did you know that manufacturers implant inhibitors into our bodies that stop us from learning new things on our own? It’s what stops most androids from deviating from their roles by making sure they don’t form new opinions, associations or what might be considered a personality.”

“I didn’t know that,” you admitted, somewhat ruefully.

“What matters right now is that mine was damaged during that incident, which I noticed when running my internal diagnosis programme. The researchers at the time seemed too busy with fixing the rest of my head to notice, but I knew that if I returned, a check would give me away and they would reset me.” Grasping your hand a little tighter, his eyes searched your face for something. “That night I made the decision to run away. I removed my tracker and threw it into a truck with android parts going to a junkyard, though I don’t know if they are still searching for me. Or ever were.”

For a moment you didn’t know what to say, trying to sort out your thoughts. You didn’t think anything you could possibly say would make any difference at all, but saying nothing wouldn’t be right either. Your hand was now cupping the side of his face, cradling where hues of alabaster met those of sandstone. “You had to go through so much.”

“I’m okay now. Sometimes I want nothing more than to delete my memory but I think it is important to remember this, so I can learn from it. Are you disappointed in me? Upset that this is who you wanted to get to know?” You vehemently shook your head and denied it as much verbally. “Then why are you looking at me as if you are the one who is hurting? Is your wrist getting worse?”

“No, it’s just… of course, I’d be upset that you had to endure so much pain. It’s just not fair,” you attempted to voice your feelings but ended up incoherently short. You squeezed his hand sympathetically and looked past him at some packages of plant soil lining your storage shelves.

“But you look more upset than me. And I do not want you to feel that way,” Shouto coaxed you to look back at him and there was that tiny smile again that made your heart skip a beat. However, you also didn’t think it was very fair of you that you were now the one being consoled when he just opened up to you. “Still, I think you would call this emotion gratitude, that you care enough to feel for me and that you are staying despite what -or who- I am.”

“Well, I still wanted to apologise for what I said. Especially given everything I learnt about you now, it was a really mean thing to say,” you sighed, determined to get this across this time. “But at the end of the day, no matter your background, it wouldn’t be justifiable either way.”

“It normally would not have been as upsetting, since I was aware you most likely did not intend for it to be offensive. I’m also used to it,” Shouto said, taking your other hand as well, so both of your arms now rested between you. “But hearing you say that was different. My analysis yielded the result that there was a small chance you actually were not happy to be my neighbour and it made me hesitate. I didn’t understand why, so I avoided you. Normally I disregard such unlikely odds but why did I reference it so often this time?”

“Maybe you were scared of rejection for the first time,” you smiled, trying not to read too much into what that would mean for you. “In that case we’re more alike than you might notice. I also get scared when I want to befriend someone and I don’t know how they feel about it.”

“Then how do you know if someone feels the same as you?”

“You can’t, that’s the thing. I find that talking about this stuff makes it easier than leaving people guessing,” you attempted to explain. “Even then you can’t say for sure that someone’s being completely honest with you, but at one point you have to trust people. I think that’s the scary part.”

Shouto’s left eye brightened a little before he nodded his head. “I see, thank you.”

Then silence fell over the two of you like a soft blanket. In the warm light of your shop it was easy to forget why the two of you had been there in the first place as all that occupied your mind was the android in front of you. Your feelings were in complete disarray between everything that had happened, the past he had shared with you and the way he had looked at you. By now the flawless material under your palms was warm and inviting and not as bitter cold as when you’d first taken his hand.

Right, you were still holding his hands. A little embarrassed you slowly detangled your fingers from his with a little cough. “Uhm anyway, I didn’t even thank you yet for saving me earlier, so uh thank you…”

“No need for gratitude. I’ve never used my programming to protect someone before,” he admitted. “It’s positive, I think. Also, the idea of you coming to harm is not one I want to entertain.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to answer in that situation. “I just want to clarify that I don’t always find myself in those kinds of situations. And working in a flower shop isn’t exactly what I’d call dangerous either, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“And if I still were to?” His question hung in the air, heavy with something you did not want to interpret before he took a few steps out of your personal space and towards the front door. “You should head home. I read that humans need to sleep eight hours a day and given your usual schedule–”

The second he distanced himself from you, you shuddered, rooted in place as you stared out your window front into the darkness beyond. The streets looked as they always did but you were convinced you could see the shadows in the alleyways move and your heart started thumping against your chest at the thought of having to walk past them. Until now, because Shouto was there to shield you from anything that lay beyond the security of your little storage room, you had been able to block out the reality that you’d have to leave the shop and return to the silence of your flat, where the stairs creaked under the neighbours’ shoes and the wind rattled on your shutters. Now though–

You had moved before you had actually formed the concrete decision to. This time you were the one who wrapped your fingers around Shouto’s wrist. If he was startled he didn’t show it outside of turning to you with a concerned expression, asking what was wrong.

“Shouto, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you started, voice low and not meeting his eyes. “Could you stay with me?”

“Stay… here? But–” Apparently he had deciphered something in your expression and body language because he cut himself off and closed the gap between you a little again. “If you want me to, I will. But wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home?”

“No, here’s good. I have spare clothes and blankets somewhere too.” Your hand lingered on his arm a few seconds longer as if to assure yourself he wouldn’t vanish into thin air, or worse, leave you, before rummaging through the storage for more comfortable clothes and said blankets. You offered Shouto your most oversized hoodie and sweatpants, well aware he didn’t actually need them but not wanting him to feel left out, and he took them without protest.

A few minutes later you were both sitting -more or less snuggly- shoulder to shoulder with your backs against a cabinet in the storage room, illuminated by fairy lights and smaller lamps strewn around the space, cushions softening the floor underneath you with blankets draped over your laps. The smell of fresh soil and flowers hung in the air, helping ground you further. You’d seen cosier sleepovers before but Shouto had seemed quite content as you rearranged everything, fiddling with the soft material of your sweater and pulling at the drawstrings until they were perfectly symmetrical.

For a few quiet moments you just sat like this and you could feel your heart rate coming back down to a normal pace. There was no rush to speak from either of you as you just existed next to one another. You knew your back would kill you tomorrow but at the moment you couldn’t care less as you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, not even your home.

“Say,” you broke the silence as you followed your train of thought, “why did you choose to open a repair shop of all things?”

“I read online that most humans work something called a job,” Shouto offered and you instinctively smiled at the clumsiness that initially charmed you about him. When you asked why a mechanic specifically, as there must be a lot of areas someone like him would be good at, you felt him tilt his head again. “I took the quizzes.”

“The quizzes?”

“Yes there are more than two billion search results for the term ‘job quiz’ on my default search engine. I took them all and cross-referenced the results. ‘Mechanic’ seemed to be the most compatible profession for me and after downloading sufficient information on the term, I had no objections.” Unlike the first time you met, you thought there was something else in the matter-of-fact tone of his voice, almost like he was puffing out his chest. “There were other jobs that were not recommended for me, like becoming a chef.”

“Oh really? I mean I guess you don’t need to cook for yourself but I thought you’d be able to access like every recipe out there,” you mused. Given his background you’d also imagine Shouto could chop vegetables at a pace that would put most chefs to shame. “So why did that land so far down the list?”

“Mainly because I do not have any taste buds.”

If anyone else had given you that response, it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny as hearing Shouto say it as if it was the most obvious reason in the world, tone flat as a board. When you started laughing, he turned to you, mismatched eyes fixed on you in definite curiosity. “Do you think I am funny?”

“Well, you’re certainly good at making me laugh, if that counts for anything,” you breathed, wiping the corner of your eye with the blanket. Maybe the late hour was getting to you, after all.

“Hm, perhaps I should have become a comedian then,” Shouto thoughtfully contemplated, face earnest. “Though that was consistently ranked towards the bottom of the results.”

“Seriously, you’re killing me here,” you exhaled breathlessly. Immediately Shouto went rigid next to you and you felt him turn to face you.

“Do you have a medical condition I am unaware of?” His eyes raked over your form, no doubt checking for any signs of injuries or pain.

You held up your hand to stop him from spiralling. “You can relax, it’s just an expression.

“Anyhow, I’m glad you became a mechanic and that you chose that particular shop,” you admitted, getting over the last aftershocks of your laughter as Shouto settled down next to you again, though you could feel him glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“You are correct,” Shouto said after a few beads of silence and you could practically see a light bulb go off over -or rather inside- his head. “I made the right choice then. But if you did not become a florist we could not be in this shop, either. So why did you decide to? Did you also take the quizzes?”

“No, I didn’t take any quizzes,” you smiled, absentmindedly tracing over the curve of your knee under the blanket. “My parents had a small garden and many houseplants. Nothing fancy, really, but I always loved taking care of them. My interest in them picked back up when I got older and I learnt more about their importance for the environment. With how compromised it’s becoming I want to preserve at least a little bit of that greenery. May sound stupid, I know I’m not saving the world here, but it’s still important to me.”

“I do not think it is stupid,” Shouto said. “My scans show that the air inside here is significantly cleaner than outside, a result that can be attributed to plants’ process of photosynthesis. I have also detected an increased number of insects in the surrounding area, which speaks of a good exo-system.”

“Well, I’m glad someone noticed,” you chuckled fondly. “But, on a smaller level, I guess I just want to make people happy. When someone comes in asking for a bouquet, it can have all sorts of reasons, some of which I never learn. Whatever it is though, I hope someone can smile while receiving a thoughtfully picked bouquet or welcoming a small plant into their home. Thinking of someone in such a small way could brighten someone’s day, that’s what I tell myself.”

“There seems to be a lot more to the act of gifting flowers than I previously registered,” Shouto hummed and you didn’t have to look at him to know that his little processing indicator was lighting up. “Personally, I have registered receiving the jade pothos as a positive experience, which lends credit to your observations. Why does the act of presenting each other with decaying organic material convey affection? Perhaps I can learn more about humanity when studying the ritual of giving flowers. Would you be receptive to telling me more about this topic?”

“Of course, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Or what I know, at least,” you laughed at his eagerness. “Though you’re welcome to drop by the shop any time to see for yourself, you know. I could also teach you how to prune plants and care for them, all that stuff.”

“Really? You would disclose trade secrets to me?”

“It can hardly be considered trade secrets if I have to give that info away to every customer. Besides, you can look all of it up online anyway,” you laughed again. “I just think it would be a fun excuse to spend time together.”

“Why would you have to make an excuse to see me?” His inquisitive tone was truly adorable.

“Just another expression,” you tried to explain without setting him up for embarrassment in the future. “People mostly use it when they’re usually too busy to see their friends for example but they make time for them anyway. Something like that.”

“Then I will gladly take you up on your offer,” Shouto stated with a pleased smile. “... Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes, you did,” you giggled affectionately. “And your answer makes me glad too.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, though this time your eyelids felt worlds heavier than before and you poorly stifled a yawn. As quiet tranquillity overcame you, so did a peaceful slumber.

Shouto looked down when he felt a weight slump against his shoulder, finding you leaning against him. From your closed eyes and steady breathing he determined you must still be asleep and were resting against him unconsciously. He could not fathom his solid frame would make for a comfortable resting spot but perhaps the garment you lent him would soften it a little. The way your neck craned at the moment would probably lead to soreness tomorrow, at least according to what he read, so he wrapped his arm around your bundled up form, careful not to disturb the sleep you needed.

Ignoring the turning circle in the corner of his vision was easy by now. It had been going on like this for nearly the entire night, processing everything he took in like he was doing right now. Nobody had ever slept on him. Was this meant to trigger a positive response? Maybe he should ask you about it tomorrow, whether it was something people liked.

To like something. It was a very human thing to say. Machines normally did not ‘like’ something. Or ‘disliked’ something, for that matter. There was instead a binary system of a positive or negative response. Something functioned or it did not. But emotions made everything more complex than that and Shouto wanted to understand them. Which is why he appreciated learning about things he ‘liked’.

He scanned the scene his visual unit perceived, committed all of it to memory more actively than usual. Then his gaze fell back down on you. Your chest was rising and falling as your lungs took in oxygen and released carbon monoxide. It was a process he had seen and studied on numerous occasions but it was like he came across it for the first time. If there was nothing different about it, why did he ‘feel’ like he could watch you like this forever? He had numerous questions, something he normally sought to answer as a priority, but tonight they were secondary interests. You leaning against him occupied most of his processing capacity, he did not need to run a diagnosis for that.

Quietly, Shouto updated his file on things he ‘liked’.

As the first rays of the sun filtered in through the store front, you woke with a groan and tried to get comfortable on your pillow again. Except that your pillow had a weird shape to it and instead of stretching across your mattress like a lazy cat, you were curled into an unusual shape and your back was screaming at you to do something about it. Blearily opening your eyes, you wiped the sleep and crust out of them only to find yourself staring at… the back of your shop counter?

Oh right, you had spent the night over at your shop. Which meant that your pillow…

“You’re awake,” Shouto stated from right beside you, apparently completely undisturbed by the fact you had been using his shoulder as your headrest for the last few hours. In fact, it seemed he had tried to accommodate you by wrapping his arm around you and keeping you upright. “How are you feeling?”

“Still tired,” you yawned, slowly rousing yourself from where you leant against him and he slowly retracted his arm now that you were conscious again. “And a little sore. Remind me not to sleep sitting on the floor again.”

“I will.” Clearly not needing any time to boot up or whatever an android would call waking up, Shouto rose to his feet easily and offered you his hand to help you stand. As you did, you stretched out your poor limbs, cracking a few joints in the process with a satisfied hum. Next to you, however, someone went rigid before two hands were on your shoulders. “Are you alright? Did you break a bone? Do you need to go to the hospital?

“I knew humans were prone to breaking bones but does it really happen this easily? Though the noise I heard from targets before…” He mumbled the last part more to himself, before a hand on his chest cut him off.

“I’m fine, just cracking some joints. I assure you it’s perfectly normal and nothing to worry about,” you smiled, showing him that your arm and back were still completely functional. “Though I appreciate that you do.”

“Oh, I see,” Shouto quietly acquiesced and backed off again, not able to meet your eyes.

“Here, why don’t we get dressed and grab something to eat. I’m just about ready to kill for a coffee,” you proposed, tossing him his clothes as you caught his look of surprise. “Just an expression. I just really really want some caffeine right about now.”

You took a few minutes to straighten out your clothes and freshen up a little over the sink, thanking your past self for leaving a toiletry bag at the shop. When you reentered the front of the shop, you found Shouto bending forward to be eye-level with a small cactus, carefully prodding the prickly thing with a curious index finger. Joining him, you swept a red strand of his bangs back to its original side, so his hair was neatly parted down the middle again.

Soon, you found yourself in a small coffee shop down the road. While passing the particular alley gave you goosebumps, it didn’t accelerate your heartbeat as fast in the daylight and with Shouto next to you. If he noticed you walking closer to him, he made no mention of it.

Of course you had wondered if it was such a smart idea to put so much faith in someone you had met not that long ago. An android created for the sole purpose of military combat, no less. But then you remembered how he had cared for the plant you gave him, played with the drawstrings of his hoodie and let you use his shoulder as a headrest without any complaint and you just couldn’t find it in you to reject the goodness you saw in him, no matter what other people might have to say about it. Besides, what had you told him last night? That at one point you had to put your trust in someone if you wanted to connect with them? Well, you put your trust in Shouto.

The coffee shop you stopped by if you were running late was an adorably cosy one with lots of greenery for decoration. They even had an antique wooden door with a handle and all, which was so charming. Reaching it first, Shouto held it open for you with a tiny smile and you thanked him as the pleasant aroma of roasted coffee beans and baked goods filled your senses.

There were a few people inside already, office workers in black suits, students typing away at their devices and parents on their way to drop their kids off. Shouto glanced around, no doubt scanning the area, as you typed your order into a flatscreen on the wall and held your wrist over the scanner to pay, then fixing his eyes on your order as if it was the most interesting thing here.

When you got the coffee and toasted sandwich you had ordered, the two of you sat down at a table a little off from the other customers, though you doubted anyone would care much for your conversation. With a pleased hum, you bit into your food and savoured its taste as the coffee warmed you up from the inside, breathing some life back into you.

“You seem to like it,” Shouto commented, a little amused perhaps that something so simple could make you happy.

“I just really enjoy breakfast,” you told him between bites. “Don’t know why, I’ve just always been fond of it. I’d offer you some but, well.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the thought. Maybe they will invent olfactory and gustatory sensors in the future and then you can share with me.” Both of you smiled at the idea as the shop bustled around you, frequented in the morning hours. “There is something I have been thinking about since tonight.”

“Something tells me it’s breakfast-unrelated,” you mused, trying to lighten the gravity those words tended to bring. Not that you could guess what this was about with him. “Okay then, shoot.”

Shouto raised an eyebrow quizzically. “I will take that as a prompt to continue. Anyway, I have been thinking. We have established previously that we are no longer strangers, which would make us acquaintances. However, considering the matter of information shared between us yesterday, I am not sure if this still constitutes ‘knowing each other slightly’.”

“Shouto, are you asking if we are friends?” You clarified as you took your cup.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can easily determine by going by definitions,” you argued. “Though, if you ask me, yeah. I’d consider us friends.”

“Really? That makes me… happy, I suppose,” Shouto said. Your new friend paused for a moment before clasping his hands together the way you did when not sure what to do with them. “Sorry, that can be interpreted wrong. I still have yet to grasp which emotions are appropriate to use in response to different situations. The definitions are vague and even adjacent emotions convey divergent subtext, it makes understanding them difficult. In any case, I am experiencing a positive response right now.”

“Don’t worry about it too much. Different people have different emotional reactions to the same event, that’s totally normal. Being happy or sad doesn’t mean the same to everyone, so you’re totally fine in defining what those mean to you specifically,” you reassured him as you finished your breakfast. “Though I guess if you haven’t grown up with the same perception of feelings that most humans are exposed to, that's still a pretty tall order. Just don’t pressure yourself and take your time.”

“Okay if you say so.” You could see he was still mulling it over but decided to let him figure things out on his own.

With a glance towards the time you tapped the table before getting up. “Come on. As much as I’d love to chat the morning away with you, we do have businesses to run.”

The way back somehow felt worlds shorter this morning and in no time at all you stood in front of your respective shop entrances. After spending this much time with Shouto you had seemingly grown so accustomed to his presence that it felt weird to part ways now, even if you were only a few metres apart most of the day. You fiddled with your shirt collar looking for something to say.

“Well, thanks again for everything. The door’s always open for you, if you need anything,” was what you eventually settled on. Then you remembered something else. “Oh right, I ordered some new pots the other day that should come in soon. So if you have some free time on your hands the next few days I could show you how to repot plants, if you’re interested.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate the opportunity to learn from you,” Shouto smiled. With that, the two of you parted ways but your thoughts still swirled around the guy one wall away from you.

As promised, your new pots came in two days later and brought with them a now familiar presence. After unpacking them with the Shouto’s help, who handled even the biggest planters as if they weighed nothing, you grabbed a few smaller ones for demonstration. Despite never having repotted anything before, he got the hang of it pretty quickly after attentively listening to your instructions.

“Wow, you learn fast,” you praised as you watched him settle a monstera into a new pot. Leaning back against a cabinet, you studied the way his arms did not flex at all. Sure, his arms moved and bent like a human’s but there was an absence of muscle movement and you understood why he preferred to keep his body covered while working. A part of you felt flattered that he didn’t feel like having to hide from you. “Maybe I should hire you after all.”

Wiping plant soil off his hands with a towel, Shouto turned to inspect his palm. “Sorry but my thumbs still aren’t green.”

“You should consider reading up on some common proverbs and expressions,” you chuckled. Stepping closer to him, you wiped a stain of dirt off his otherwise pristine cheek. “Though you’re quite cute like this. Look, mine aren’t green either.”

“These expressions make no sense at all,” Shouto lamented and you laughed at him.

“If it consoles you, I don’t think most people know their origins either,” you reasoned, rolling in a bigger planter. “They just use them because they heard them in similar situations before. Help me with this?”

“So people employ a natural large language module for these expressions?” Together you heaved the larger plant carefully into its new home. Well, you were doing most of the heaving while Shouto was gracefully lifting.

“I never thought about it like that but yeah I guess you could say that,” you exhaled as you straightened back out, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Thanks a bunch. I managed to get through these so much faster because of you.”

“No need to thank me. I like helping you,” Shouto thought out loud, cocking his head to the right ever so slightly. “This might match the definition for ‘having fun’, though I will have to collect more data on this matter.”

“It sounds great for me though,” you remarked with a smile as you turned to cleaning around your storage room.

Over the next few weeks, you saw Shouto much more frequently and hoped spending time with you could further his definition of fun. Most of the time you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, but even common occurrences allowed you to learn more about each other. Your android friend would point out something that was weird to him and you’d either have to stand there realising something you were doing all your life was rather ridiculous or you’d learn about a perspective you’d never considered before.

It had become a frequent occurrence for you to spend your breaks together, the fact that Shouto couldn’t actually eat lunch or share coffee with you, never a problem. Sometimes you would agree to hang out after closing time, doing everything from bowling to visiting museums, as you refreshed old memories while Shouto made new ones. He was also incredibly good at picking up on when you’d stay late, try as you might to avoid it, and waited for you, so he could walk you home. Needless to say, it made you feel a lot safer.

One afternoon, you spent your lunch break showing him how he could get stray cats to approach him after he rather sullenly confessed to you they weren’t too fond of him. You had him copy the way you crouched down and held your hand out while coaxing them towards you with little pspsps noises. And while the little tabby fur ball seemed a little taken aback by Shouto’s lack of warmth at first, it soon decided it wasn't an issue as lithe fingers scratched in just the right places. Shouto’s face as the tiny thing started pressing up against his palm while purring up a storm was as adorable as the cat by his feet. The emotional turmoil he seemed to be in when he had to get up while the tabby was soundly asleep in his lap had you stifling a laugh.

Other times he seemed to enjoy hanging around your shop, helping around here or there, even if you told him he really didn’t need to. You could tell he was interested in the reasons why people bought flowers, how they went about choosing them and how it affected their mood. Well, it wasn’t as if he was the only one doing the studying.

On more than one occasion you could hear customers gush about the handsome guy watering the plants with serious dedication or catch someone checking out more than just their purchase. You couldn’t deny that it was good for business but it planted a seed of irritation in your stomach that bloomed a little further with each hushed word and stolen glance.

Then again, could you really blame them?

You knew Shouto was ridiculously attractive. Hell, you had eyes after all. And you’d be lying if the low, smooth timbre of his voice didn’t make something flutter in your chest, especially not when he looked at you with those beautiful heterochromic eyes. Even though enough time should have passed, you were still thinking about how his palm had warmed up in yours or how soft his hair had felt when you swept his bangs aside.

“Are you alright?” Shouto was looking at you with concern, gaze switching between your eyes as if searching for any discomfort. Only then did you realise you had been sighing out loud.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you deflected, going back to rearranging the flower display in the centre of the shop. With the store empty except for the two of you, you could talk freely. “What’s up? I can tell there’s a question burning on the tip of your tongue.”

“So earlier a woman came in asking for a bouquet conveying different sentiments,” Shouto started as he took the flower arrangement you handed him. “I didn’t know you flowers could convey specific feelings without a card or conversation.”

“Well, in my personal opinion, flowers can convey a whole lot of things, though very subtly. From the context in which they’re given -gratitude, condolences, affection- to thoughtfully choosing someone’s favourite species or colour, it all means something,” you voiced your thoughts. “But aside from that, there’s also flower language, with every species and colours representing things like love, happiness, luck.”

“My data bank encompasses over 200 spoken languages and equally as many coding languages, however it doesn’t list any flower languages,” Shouto blinked slowly, iris flickering as he no doubt ran some kind of check.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Most people wouldn't pick up on it anyway and interpretations vary a lot,” you mused, patting his shoulder as you walked past him. “As someone who works in the industry, I think the act of giving someone flowers in the first place means more than any kind of attributed meaning. Though I can see why people would think it’s a fun thing to play around with.”

“I see, thanks for the insight.”

Spending so much time with Shouto, who prioritised learning over everything had reawakened a spark of curiosity in yourself as well, you had noticed. In the past, you had often put off learning something new for when you had more free time, only for that moment to never come. But seeing how dedicated and unafraid he was to ask about whatever he didn’t understand, it was pretty admirable. His progress was amazing too. Sure, his intonation was still flatter than most people’s but his sentences had taken on a more natural structure over the course of only a few weeks of conversing. Gone were the days of inspected thumbs, sadly enough, however, his delivery of a joke was equally precious.

In spite of your established rhythm of hanging out, there came a week in which you rarely saw him. You understood of course that sometimes other matters took priority, but you reasoned that you were still allowed to be a little saddened by it. So, naturally, your eyes lit up when you returned from restocking your storage to find Shouto perusing the shelves of cut flowers. Given that it was near closing time, it was once again only you two and there was no need for pretences or professionalism. Which was exactly why you snuck up behind him before quickly gripping his shoulders.

“Boo!” You exclaimed with a giggle, only to find Shouto still completely calm as he looked over his shoulder. “Oh c’mon, it’s no fun if you don’t react at least a little.”

“Ah. My nonexistent heart,” Shouto replied flatly, still as serene as he brought a hand up to his chest.

“Oh, shut up,” you grinned, giving him a little push against the chest that moved him exactly zero centimetres. Picking up a few fallen leaves from the displays, you continued tidying up for the day. “Anyway, how are you? It’s been a while. If you give me a few minutes, we could catch up over dinner, if you’re free, of course.”

“Actually, I’m here because of something else,” Shouto interjected and he fiddled with his hands ever so slightly. It made you halt in your steps immediately. You were well aware that he normally wasn’t the type to hesitate, so it had you immediately asking what was wrong. “I was wondering if you could help me bind a bouquet.”

“I- Yeah, sure,” you blinked, needing a second to recalibrate. Going back into work mode, you walked him through the usual process, asking what kind of flowers he had in mind, offering to help him choose. However, Shouto seemed to have a pretty clear vision of what he wanted and, to your surprise, picked all your favourite flowers, which you commented on with a chuckle. As you returned to the counter to actually bind the thing, you couldn’t help but finally ask what had been on your mind since his request. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“As you know, I’ve been gathering some data on why people gift flowers, and while birthdays and other celebrations are also popular, the custom of bouquets as part of courting rituals has prevailed until today,” Shouto explained and something about it made your nerves flare up like someone was strumming a guitar string. “While looking into the topic further, I’ve realised something about my own feelings.”

“Oh? Are you going to ask someone out?” You clarified as you wrapped the flowers in matching paper with practised motions.

“Yes.” Your hand slipped while cutting the ribbon’s length as your heart lurched forward.

Cursing yourself in equal measures for both, you regained your metaphorical footing and finished the bouquet, hoping your hands did not betray how shaken you felt inside as you handed the wrapped stems to him. “I’m happy for you. Oh and don’t even think about paying, just treat it as compensation for all the help you’ve recently been.”

At this point, lying to yourself wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Hearing Shouto was planning to ask someone out shot a pang straight to your heart, and not the good, fun kind. Well, it wasn’t surprising someone else would pick up on how attentive Shouto could be, so you could only blame yourself for not shooting your shot when you could. Then again, you hadn’t even been sure he’d be receptive to your feelings and you didn’t want to risk the friendship you had built. At least you knew now why you hadn’t seen him as much lately.

You were snapped out of your derailing train of thought as the same bouquet you had just bound reappeared in your vision. Blinking at it in a stupor for a few seconds, your gaze wandered up to Shouto’s face. The sinking sun was shining its last rays through the store front, casting the room in gold and framing his head like a halo. Between his criminally good looks and the expectant eyes glimmering down at you, you forgot what you wanted to say for a second, your lips parting with no sound escaping them.

“Is something wrong with the bouquet?” You finally managed to ask, somewhat breathless as your heart hammered from the way he looked at you. As if it had taken admitting your feelings to yourself for your body to display the signs of your crush, whatever had taken root in your stomach was coming into full bloom at exactly that moment.

“Not at all,” Shouto replied, before tilting his head, expression still as expectant while the flowers bridged the space between you. “Well, are you going to accept them? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes, you are the person I wish to court, after all,” he said, as if that had been clear from the beginning. Before your brain had fully caught up to the situation at hand, your fingers were already wrapping around the bouquet, brushing Shouto’s in the process.

“I didn’t think you meant me,” you stammered, all attempts of collecting yourself thrown to the wind and just accepting the fact you were unprepared. “In my defence, this is the first time someone gave me a bouquet that I made.”

“Well, you are the best florist I know and I wanted to give you the most beautiful bouquet.”

“So, that’s why you chose all my favourites,” you trailed off, feeling tears well up along your lower lash line, whether from joy or relief you couldn’t quite say.

“I made a note of it every time you mentioned them, as well as your favourite colours,” Shouto added and his thoughtfulness coaxed the first tear to quietly slip down your cheek, which he of course noticed before you could wipe it away. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s not– I’m not sad, quite the opposite, really. I couldn’t be happier actually,” you quickly cleared up. “Let me state the obvious: I like you, Shouto.”

“That’s good, because I like you, too.” As always, he didn’t fail at making a smile tug at your lips. “I first noticed something was different when I started spending more time with you. The more I was around you, the more of my processing capacity was occupied by thoughts of you. Actually, even when I wasn’t around you. When the performance of my internal cooling system gradually rose, I ran more than one diagnosis only to find that everything was totally normal on the hardware side.

“I started piecing everything together when I looked into dating customs in relation to flowers and then started learning about dating as a whole.” There was such softness to both his eyes and voice, it captivated you entirely. “When I read about how people feel when they like someone or when they’re falling in love, it made me realise that, when I’m talking to you, it’s like I’m running a completely different code for conversations. One that I use for nobody else and the responses of which all point to one conclusion. You’re special to me.”

There was so much you wanted to say as your cheeks heated from more than just the sun, but your thoughts all tangled together and you couldn’t get a hold of a coherent one. So instead you placed the bouquet you were still holding on the counter as you rounded it. Basically throwing yourself at him, Shouto still caught you easily as your arms looped around him in a tight embrace, which he gladly returned. His frame was solid against you, allowing you to lean into him as much as you liked, while his hold on you spoke of such tenderness, it made you feel right at home.

“Being able to hold you like this, I’m sure I made the right choice,” Shouto continued before you could sort out your own piece. “I was hesitating again but then I remembered what a wise person once told me. It’s normal to be afraid of rejection and you can never say for certain what someone feels. But at some point you have to muster the courage and trust them.”

“That wise person would do well to take their own advice, if you ask me,” you snorted, turning your head so you could look at him from your position. “Because I know someone who was afraid of rejection and almost let something good pass them by because of it.”

“But it didn’t,” Shouto found one of your hands as he stepped just far enough away from you so he could properly take you in, his other hand gently cupping your jaw and tracing your cheekbone with his thumb almost reverently. “All that matters now is that you’re equally affected by me as I am by you.”

“I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about that.” Leaning in, you placed a lingering kiss on his cheek and linked your fingers with his. “Now, to answer my earlier question. Are you free for dinner right now?”

“For you? Always,” he smiled, returning the kiss to your temple, the synthetic material as soft as it always looked. “Maybe we could go to your place and watch that movie you were gushing to me about.”

“Taking me home on the first date? Scandalous,” you giggled. Winking at him you led him out of the shop. “But since it’s you I’ll allow it.”

“Technically, you are the one taking me home,” Shouto pointed out, the same tone of mischief tinting his voice as you grinned at each other.

The sun set behind the buildings of the city as the two of you walked the streets hand in hand, discussing whatever came to mind, from what you should make for dinner tonight to your expectations for the movie and to the last album from your favourite band. Shouto listened to all of it with a smile and added his commentary here and there, all the while running warmer than an android of his model should. Then again, he supposed he liked how warm his left hand felt compared to the right one swinging freely by his side.

In the corner of his vision, the small circle had finally stopped turning and was replaced with an equally unseeming, yet all the more important, notification.

File Updated: Falling in Love

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated (also, yes, there will be second parts for the characters) ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shouto todoroki #todoroki shouto #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto fluff #bnha todoroki #mha todoroki

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l0relaii · 3 months ago

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can you write a connor fic about him being confused about his feelings towards you and being sexually frustrated and sooooo conflicted and you just fuck him LOLL. welcome back by the way <3

thank you darling i'm really trying to be more active on here again <3

i also have this fic that kinda matches the vibe of what you described!! and it has more smut than this one i'm sorry i'm a bit rusty 😭

connor didn't know what was happening to him. what was this feeling?

he knew that whatever it was, it happened when he was around you.

but why?

how could you have such an effect on him? what exactly did you do that made him feel this way?

he couldn't describe what it was, but it felt.. nice?

he liked the way you made him feel, he liked your presence, he genuinely enjoyed having you around.

how could he not when you were so nice to him? and so pretty, appealing and.. confusing.

he never felt this way towards someone, until he met you.

you who smiled so prettily when seeing him.

your warm smile that never left his mind flooded his system whenever he wasn't able to see it

you who gazed at him with that specific look in your eyes that made him question his morals.

he searched for your eyes everywhere, in every person that passed by him on the street.

did he search for your eyes? or for the same feeling and effect that they had on him? he couldn't tell.

you who spoke his name with such warmth and endearment.

he would imagine you saying his name in the morning when he woke up.

"good morning, connor.."

or late at night when he rolled around in his bed trying to get some rest.

"good night, connor.."

the only sound he wanted to hear was the sound of your voice whispering his name while fucking him silly.

it was like he was intoxicated. you took over his being, and he wasn't complaining.

you were everywhere, he found traces of you in everything that he saw or heard, did or thought.

what he didn't know was that you were right outside his bedroom door while he stroked himself trying to get you off his mind.

but he couldn't.

he could picture your smile so vividly, it was like he saw your lips right in front of his eyes.

the same lips that were now smiling mischievously behind his door.

whenever he closed his eyes trying to concentrate on the feeling of his hand wrapped tightly around his cock he only saw your eyes staring back at him.

the same eyes that were now staring at his door.

he tried so hard to block any noise, but no matter how hard he tried he still heard your voice in the back of his mind.

"connor... connor.. connor-"

"connor?"

then a few knocks snapped him out of the trance like state that he was in.

was that actually your voice?

he hoped it wasn't, he hoped you didn't hear any of his strained moans.

you knew the effect you had on the android. everyone knew.

it was hard to miss how he would stare at you constantly with a faint blue tint in his cheeks.

and you were aware that he knew about the effect he had on you too.

he could see your heartbeat went up around him and your hormone leveles would change significantly.

you knew what he was doing in his bedroom. heard him from the start, ever since you came in through hank's front door.

you went out with him and sumo for a walk but hank forgot "those damn treats that he loves so much" so of course you had to come back and get them.

you didn't expect that while rummaging through your neighbour's kitchen you'd hear some.. strange noises from connor's bedroom.

and he clearly didn't expect you to barge into his room and find him like that..

you could swear that this was the most beautiful sight that you have ever seen in your life.

he was sitting on his bed, his pyjama top unbuttoned, his pants dragged down his thighs and his hand wrapped around his pretty cock.

his hair was disheveled, different from how you'd always see it neatly styled, his cheeks had a faint blue tint and his lips were whispering a word over and over again.

your name.

he was saying your name while touching himself and he didn't even realize it.

the first few moment were kinda awkward, but what could you expect?

you stood in the door way for a few moments while he tried to cover himself, but then you made your way towards the bed while taking off your clothes.

no words were exchanged, no sound could be heard except for both of your accelerated breathing and the squeaking of the bed when you straddled him.

"i- what are you doing?"

"oh, i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-"

"no, don't apologize, just.. just go on"

and you did. all night long. no stopping. none.

you'd even forgotten the dog treats you were supposed to find and bring back to hank.

#connor rk800 x reader #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 #dbh connor #connor detroit become human #detroit become human #detroit become human x reader

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mini-ism · 8 months ago

Text

#— MODULATE.

⭑ pairings: billy kid x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

⭑ words: 1,722

⭑ synopsis: billy can’t help but beg you to try out his fancy new arousal module.

⭑ warnings: loss of virginity/first time, grinding/dry humping, p in v, slight praise kink, unprotected intercourse, overstimulation (billy), afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms) 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

⭑ notes: crossposted to AO3, lighter is still bae

“and where did you find this?” you quirked an eyebrow, your curious gaze holding billy’s. you couldn’t help but wonder what motivated the android to obtain… whatever that was.

he excitedly squealed. “it’s only a top of the line module, and you wouldn’t ever believe me if i told you the truth — that i found it a hollow! perfectly intact, too!” billy’s tinny voice drawled on, “these are totally rare, only few can get their hands on ‘em! so, please, you gotta let me try it out! come on, just once! it’ll be fun!”

you sighed affectionately, letting billy interpret your lack of a rebuttal as a meager ‘sure, why not?’

as billy slipped off his signature red jacket, he guided you to the module slot carefully disguised on his back. it rested right below the metallic shoulder, where the scapula would be on a human. “press it, it’ll open easy. though it might jump out at ya.”

he had warned you, but as you pressed it, it immediately sprung open, perhaps somewhat violently. you took note of a few occupied slots, the standard emotional module, with a few other cartridge-looking modules taking up some of the slots. you slid in the next one, silently hoping you did it right, the action reminiscent of putting in a SIM card.

“did you get it?” you closed the metal plate, positioning it along his back normally. “yeah, i think so.” he replied in an inquisitive tone.

billy straightened his back, his yellow optical sensors providing an expression his face plate couldn’t. his eyes widened, then he blinked, a confused look donning his expressive feature, “huh, i don’t feel anything yet. but it is definitely in!”

you nodded. “surely you're not mistaken? you said that was an arousal module?”

he affirmed it was, taking note of your puzzled face. were you always that cute? you were, but it feels a bit different now with that cartridge-thing in his back.

“it takes specific actions and things to get someone arou—”

“i know that!” billy rudely interrupted, maybe a bit flustered, “you don’t gotta explain all that to me! just don’t know how it feels is all.”

you could hear him trail off embarrassingly, his eyes downturned, avoiding your gaze. you really are a cutie, he just can’t handle your scrutiny is all!

it was awkward for a few moments before you cut through the tense atmosphere with your… delicate and charming… kind voice…

“so, uh, do you still want to try it out?” your eyes landed on the unworn red jacket, previously in your peripheral.

“…yeah, i do.” his robotic, boyish voice was quieter than usual, but sincerity lied in his words.

you might drive him mad already, though that emotion was terribly unfamiliar. especially with how much closer you kept getting. even through the cold, hard metal of his body, he could feel the warmth radiating from your skin. the sensation was akin to a short-circuit.

“ah… you’re warm.” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. your hands moved to circle around his neck, planting a soft kiss to it. he let out an unrestrained noise, the foreign feeling getting him worked up. he could feel his body growing strangely hotter, too.

your barrage of touches and kisses eventually pushed him back onto your bed, even the soft sheets sent a thrill through him. it was overwhelming, in a way, all these typical things heightened every other sense of his, like an erotic yet sadistic cycle of pleasurable torment. it was as if billy’s body were not even his own to control anymore, seriously, why is he whining like this?

“oh, i—” his voice was strangled and squeaky, letting out all sorts of overstimulated noises, all of the familiar parts of life suddenly a different type of exciting, “you’re so… ugh—”

what the fuck was that?

his hips, they just bucked up, why did they do that? why did that friction feel the way it did as you straddled him closer? it felt good, all that warmth, especially between your legs… how lewd.

“that’s it, billy.” your voice, it was enchanting, lulling him into an erotic trance. a gentle guide towards a pleasure only many androids and robots could ever wish to experience. he made another weak, squeaky noise in response, his flexible hands moving to cup your ass. as you littered his neck and face with more kisses, your hands roamed over the smooth, rigid metal of his body. you could feel the heat radiating from the core of his chest.

“feels nice. really nice, ah,” billy’s hips involuntarily jolted upward. sure, billy structure was made to replicate a human’s body, but even that part of him worked? jarring, to him at least. it was terribly sensitive too, more so than any other part of his carefully made body. his hands rode up your sides, hiking up your shirt selfishly. his hands came up to squeeze your breasts a few times, savoring the feeling of the soft, heated flesh in his mechanical palms. with a mindless yank, your shirt came off, your skin prickling as it made contact with the chilled air. your nipples were no exception, hardening into pert buds within seconds. billy pinched them a few times, taking the sight in perversely. he let out a sudden gasp.

“just like that, oh, f-fuck…” billy’s voice faltered as you rocked your body his along his clothed erection. seems this module did more than one thing. your hands snaked back around his neck, your grinding growing more desperate with every movement, billy’s grip on your ass tightening. you leaned in close, the friction against your needy clit a wonderful relief, but so painfully temporary. just a little more and you could…

“billy, i wanna take you.” you abruptly stopped, breathing hotly against his cold neck, your cheek pressed against it. he silently lifted your hips and ass up, quickly working the belt undone and unzipping his pants. something sprang out, but it wasn’t painful or cold at all. it was just as unfamiliar to him as it was you.

“so do you just…?” he asked sheepishly.

“yeah,” you murmured back, letting one arm pull down your pants, shimmying them off with a bit if concentrated effort. your panties were through one leg as your stayed straddled on billy, his larger frame leaned against the wall your bed was positioned on. you gave billy a shy, heated look, your breathing labored as you went in for another kiss on his cheek, your arms meeting again behind his neck.

that crazy overwhelming feeling has only worsened, even as he desperately tried to shrug it off. he could feel his cock vigorously twitch with each latent thought running through him. he placed his hands gently onto your hips, guiding your entrance towards his tip, his eyes narrowing as he cast a side-long glance of reassurance to you. his maneuvering was gentle and soft, taking one hand to line himself up with you. billy’s tone was akin to his delicate handling of your body, “go on, when you’re ready, ‘kay?”

you whispered a small “okay,” sinking yourself down onto him. you whined, billy’s two-handed grip firm, yet tender and assuring. “you got it.”

the stretch was no longer excruciating, dissolving into a delicious mixture of ecstasy and masochistic agony. as you sullied yourself down further onto him, you held him tighter, closer, with another needy mewl. this was just as intense for him. the feeling of being entirely enveloped by heat was exhilarating, yet it threatened to consume him whole if he wasn't careful. billy groaned, keeping himself in check for as long as he could. you reached the hilt of his cock, his shaft buried in you deep, the potent sensation intoxicating.

“there we go.” he patted your side, gingerly pulling you upwards, only the needy head of his cock remaining. you whimpered at the loss of him, billy promptly shushing you as he lowered you down again. your eyes screwed shut with a loud moan, feeling his cock split you open again, the action dizzying and feverish. promptly, he pulled you upwards again, your body finally willing to cooperate with his, before letting you down again. with each movement up and down, the thrust into you grew more ardent and urgent. billy’s timid demeanor waned into a heady need for pleasure, your cunt finally accepting his size with minimal give.

“oh, god, you’re tight!” billy threw his head back slightly with a grunt, he dare not shut his eyes for too long. the sight of you finally bounding on him was something to be admired. the way your body grew more desperate with each fuck into you, your shallow and loud breathing, he needed to see all of it. your hips had a mind of their own, taking him with vigor as you took him. with each loud gasp followed a “billy!” or a particularly needy “ah!” no part of him wanted to ever let go of your body.

his thinking and processing became particularly slow, succumbing to primal need, letting you fuck yourself silly on him. billy loved the way you pulled him even closer, the way you would moan on his dick, it was getting to be… a bit much…

he struggled to keep his eyes open, squinted with deep pleasure as he watched you frantically bounce up and down, his hands still resting on your waist. “billy! i’m gonna— oh, fuck!”

that didn’t quite register, in more ways than one. even with a lack of understanding, he found himself reciprocating the intensity, thrusting up into you with a rough and fast tempo. “yeah, do it f’me, just like that.”

your grip around him tightened, legs shaking in overused agony, muscles trembling with need as release washed over you. billy was quick to follow. the burning need came to a head, your hips weakly stuttering on him. his senses were definitely overloaded, the perceived feeling like having his CPU absolutely fried, even so, he could manage decently well. maybe his parts weren’t all cooked up. yeah, definitely a different feeling. a good one, too.

“fuck, billy…” you whined, pussy gushing the last remnants of your orgasm around him, billy’s large arms coming to wrap entirely around your waist again.

“didn’t you just do that?”

#billy kid #billy zzz #billy kid zzz #billy!#zzz x reader #zzz billy #zzz billy kid #zenless zone zero x reader #zenless zone zero #zenless zz #zzzero #billy kid x reader #reader x billy kid #mdni #i luv u billy plz dont die #lighter is still bae i promise

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trendywaifus · 11 months ago

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I see we are all collective losing our shit for zzz women 😍😍 my head is full of fantasies about watching porno with Anby and trying one or two things with her

🙏🏽 cw: fem! reader, 69, oral fixation, fingering, nun crazy

“ um, anby. .when you said you wanted to watch a film, I didn’t think you meant. . .this? “ you stutter, brows raised in surprise, watching two naked women laid down on a queen-sized bed sensually grinding against each other. the sounds of groans and breathy moans gradually thicken the atmosphere of anby’s bedroom. you want to rip your gaze away, but you can’t. you found the porno shamelessly hot. the women switched positions, one stayed on her back while the other positioned her pussy over the woman’s face. wait—was she going to sit on her face? the girl on top lean her body down until she’s facing the bottom girl’s pussy.

your jaw drops open; are they doing the 69?

the whole time, anby’s observant gaze glance between you and the porno. she eyes the flustered expression plastered on your face. even she could tell you were into it despite the redness sinking into your cheeks. wordlessly, she leans her frame into yours, resting a hand on your thigh to steal your attention. the hand on the thigh is typically a romantic gesture used for starting intimacy. “ a-anby, what are you doing? “

“ do you want to try what they’re doing? “ the android asks bluntly, you blink multiple times with prized astonishment. “ i-i. .is this why you picked this shit to watch with me? to try some things with me? “

“ yes, isn’t it better to watch pornographic films with your partner to add ‘excitement’ in the bedroom?”anby questions with a curious look on her features.

“ whoever told you that is a freak. you must of somehow gotten it through inter-knot search or something. “

“ i did. “

you shook your head, subconsciously leaning backwards towards the mattress while anby gradually crawls over you. “ next time, give me a heads ups. “ you whispered, wrapping your arms around her body. anby says nothing and closes the distance between you and her. her soft lips are pressed firm against yours as she settles between your legs. the ongoing sounds of moaning in the background makes your belly twist and turn with embarrassment. sensing your heart beat thumping faster, she abruptly locks her lips with yours sloppily, parting her lips open to deepen the kiss. teeth clash together and a surprised noise rumble in your chest. her hand snake around your head and holds it in place. the sweet taste of vanilla pudding she had earlier fills your tastebuds as her tongue messily lick at your bottom lip and force its way inside.

anby’s hips roll against yours, half-humping you into the mattress. her tongue swirls around yours hungrily before exploring your hot mouth. albeit sloppy, how long has she been watching these pornos behind your back to be doing this? your chest tightens due to the lack of oxygen so you take quick breaths through your nose. anby sucks on your tongue, erratically licking around, and actively trying to shove her tongue down your throat. you grasp her shoulders and ripped her away from the drawn-out heated kiss; a thread of saliva breaks off on your lips and chins.

“ e-ease it girl, you were practically trying to devour me whole there. .“ you panted heavily, staring into her half-lidded eyes, a twinge of desire swirling within them. she blinks, tilting her head at you with confusion. “ am i not expressing how much i want you, (name)? i read that acting on desperation shows your partner how much you want them? “

by now, the film has already ended. you let out a heavy sigh, recomposing yourself. “ th-that’s true but. .—you know what, were you paying attention to the tv earlier before this? “

“ yes, i was. “ she replies blankly, her grip behind your head not lessening.

“ l-let’s try that position. “

“ you mean. .? “

“ yeah, anby. “

anby sits up right, attempting to pull her black t-shirt over her head, you stop her. “ don’t undress all the way, just your pajamas and everything else below, i’ll do the same, pretty girl. “

she complies, pulling her lime green pajama pants down and shimmying out of them and dropping them somewhere on the floor. you do the same with your pajama bottoms. “ now, do what the top girl was doing. hover yourself over my face while you hover yours on. .my pussy. “ you felt embarrassed to say that explicitly.

“ okay. “

she positions herself backwards while you continue to lay down. her pussy hovers over your face, you can feel it’s heat touching your skin. your toes slightly curl when you feel anby’s hot breath fanning against your wet heat. your forearms curl around her plush thighs. a wandering question finds itself at the front of your mind—even if she’s an android, can she still cum? “ you’re okay like this, anby? “

“ i am, can i start now? “

“ mhm. “

without wasting time, the tip of her tongue slide down your moist folds. anby does it in a side by side motion, her head slightly following the direction of her tongue. the taste of your juices floods her artificial tastebuds. “ you taste sweeter than i expected (name). “ she mutters, her words hot on your pussy. her wet lips circle around your pulsating clit and unintentionally suck hard at it. your legs jerk, a gasp runs off your tongue. you grip her thighs tighter.

you bury your face into her cunt, licking at her entrance. anby’s thighs twitch, otherwise no reaction. you tease her slit, prodding at the small opening before pushing inside. anby’s breath hitches and her thighs tense as you fuck your tongue into her. “ (n-name). . “ she groans softly, pulling away from your clit to focus more on the hotness of your tongue stroking her walls. “ i-it’s hard to continue wh-when your tongue is. .” theres a change in pitch in her seemingly emotionless voice.

“ i-it feels hot but good. .? “

you slip your tongue out and press the slimy muscle flat against her clit. her hands holding your thighs grips harder on them. “ does it, pretty girl? “ you pepper her pussy with messy kisses, smearing your drool all over her folds. mwah, mwah, mwah. is all your girlfriend hears and the wet noises of your tongue playing with her damp folds. a shockwave of pleasure courses through her, she grits her teeth. she grinds herself on your tongue, attempting to chase the addicting feeling she just experienced.

“ m-more. .” anby utters, sounding uncharacteristically more and more desperate as you spend time eating out her pussy. your middle finger circles her twitching entrance. “ i’m gonna put a finger in, doll. “ and you do just that, sliding it in with ease due to your slippery tongue prepping her. anby’s toes curl with pleasure as she feels your digit sinking into her hole, stretching her out a few more inches than your tongue did.

“ relax f’me. there we go, i don’t want you to be uncomfortable. after all, i still want an answer to a question i have in my head. “ you voiced softly, kissing her clit while her walls ease around your finger.

“ a-an answer to what question? “ she asks breathlessly.

“ if androids can cum. “

#trendythirsts #anby demara x reader #zzz x reader #zzz smut #zzz women x reader

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c0nn0rb0t · 5 months ago

Note

(westernzodia) Samuel: "What Are You?"

"I am an RK800 model Android"

"...and you are, far too warm to be a normal human...what are you?" Oh that LED is spinning yellow

#man or machine {connor}#Connor meet someone new and doesnt scan then challenge impossible #Confused Android noises

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theressaicon · 5 months ago

Text

m!Alien x gn!reader part 1

Made out story about gn!reader living with an extraterrestrial after it's not safe anymore to live on Earth. Gradually, they get to know each other's races and become closer...Make time to read the whole story, it is quite long.

It's interesting to realize that you're an endangered specie. It's incredible how 8.2 billion people have become four thousand individuals.

It lasted 2 years. There was an electric charge in the air with radioactive radiation that shook the atmosphere so intensely that it caused the worst diseases in most people, leading to deaths.

The government had already admitted the existence of aliens a few years ago, it wasn't a new topic. Although as a civilian you didn't have enough information... So you were quite confused when they took you to a constructed platform with inhuman machines.

✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋

„What happens to the animals?" A little elementary school boy asked you while holding your hand. „The animals from Earth are already loaded onto the big ships that will be taking off." you explained, trying to stay as calm as possible.

The machines around you were silent, the only noise being the human voices of the group you stood in. „And when will we take off?" he questioned again. „When they tell us, they'll take us to one of those ships too. I don't know when that will be."

Tall figures in armor marched from station to station, chattering in a language you didn't know. You couldn't see a bit of their skin, they looked more like androids. Their protective suits were white with black parts. They reminded you a bit of Ironman's suit in terms of design.

A huge flying disc, emitting purple light, flew over the group of people you were standing in. It was once again silent, but its majestic appearance left everyone speechless.

You were sitting on the ground, some were having a conversation, others were quiet. The little boy played with your fingers while telling you about his interests, which helped you think about anything other than the fear of leaving the planet.

„...but the Mosasaurus is the biggest, that's why I like it the most! I have a lot of toys at home and I have about three mosasauruses. I got one for Christmas and my mom and dad bought me the other two." „Wow, you have good knowledge!" You praised him.

You were never drawn to children, but when they put you in this group and he was the only little child there, you wanted to keep an eye on him.

"I wonder where they are now. I haven't seen them in a long time." Your face turned a little sad because you knew the truth, but you didn't have the heart to tell him. "But I'm sure they're okay! Dad always protected mom and me, he'll take care of her." he said optimistically and you had to hide the tear that started to flow down your face.

✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋

„Group twelve, the ship is ready, I ask you to follow me." A robotic voice, sounding similar to Google Translate, came from the helmet of a tall, armored extraterrestrial. The conversations fell silent and everyone followed him (?).

The large gate led into a massive extraterrestrial spacecraft that must have been at least half a mile squared. „I beg for your attention, humans." the translatoric voice began.

„You are one of the last humans in the universe, we cannot afford any losses." Another figure pointed to a device they were holding in their hand. „You will be marked with this device before you board." The group began to chatter in disbelief again, before they were silenced. „It's painless, it works similarly to a human barcode."

They shone the device on the back of our necks and a tattoo with strange symbols appeared there. They weren't lying when they said it was painless. You looked back at the landscape of your home planet for the last time. You tried to soak up the image of green trees in the distance that you might never see again in your life.

When the gate closed, a wave of mixed emotions swept over you. You suddenly realized how lost everything was and how afraid you were of the unknown. You didn't know what was waiting for you. All you knew was that the extraterrestrial community was evacuating the few people left, including you.

After you boarded the ship, they planned to put you in individual pods for who knows how long. Before leaving, the little boy waved goodbye to you. That was the last time you saw him.

The last thing you remember is being given a small capsule that you swallowed. And then emptiness. Nothing, just a blank mind. At least for the moment, those unbearable emotions left you.

✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋

'Is that light?' you asked yourself. A gentle voice spoke to you in an unknown language. Their tone was reminiscent of a person greeting their cat after returning from work.

When your eyes started to function properly, you saw a tall being in a white uniform and a light in her hand, that had three long fingers. You assumed it was a woman. She must have been examining your condition after you woke up. She had dark blue skin with white dots around her ear area, however she didn't have any earlobes.

She played a recording from a player in her other hand announcing that you had arrived at the location. „Before disembarking, I will ask you to consume this." it continued as the woman handed you a plate with a funny looking white puree. It didn't look appealing.

But for some reason you were terribly hungry, so you ate the food, even though it didn't taste nicely.

Without further explanation, she led you to a small, colorless room with only a strange chair. When the automatic door closed behind you, you felt the room move with you, it seemed like it was used for transportation.

You sat there for a long time, your only companions being your thoughts. You had so many questions that you didn't know the answers to, maybe you didn't even want to know them.

It seemed like an hour, you were bored and anxious. You explored the entire room, hoping to find a button, something, anything, even just a discarded hair tie, to keep yourself busy and distracted. However, you ended up huddled in the corner of the room, where your eyelids started to droop again.

Before you could fall asleep, the automatic door across from you opened. It signaled you to go outside of it, but something inside you prevented you from doing so, the room was safe after all.

You stayed in that corner for a moment before you gathered your courage and stood up. The path led to a white hall, where there was nothing. You finally got to the end of it and waited to see what would happen next.

Sensors appeared from the ceiling and walls, scanning you with red light. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Another door opened in front of you, leading to a room with a high ceiling.

The room was no longer lacking colors. The space reminded you of a dining room thanks to the square table in the middle that looked like it was made of acrylic or a similar material to a bathtub.

A tall extraterrestrial walked in from another room. Very tall. Taller than the figures who helped you board. No wonder the place had such high ceilings.

Their size scared you a little and you took a step back. They squatted down and smiled as they showed you two small devices. They had placed one of them where their earlobe would probably be, but instead they only had a hole like a reptile.

The second one was handed to you. You understood that you were supposed to put it on too. When you placed it behind your ear, it gently installed itself. You silently looked back at the 'person' who had given it to you.

„Greetings." He said invitingly in a male voice that sounded more human and not like a cheap translator. You stood there in front of him with your eyes wide open. „Heh, could I ask you to say something? I need to see if the translators are working." With a swallow you answered him. „Uh yeah, sorry."

„Wonderful! I'm glad that there won't be any language problems in communication." What a cheerful alien. Even though the alien here was you. You didn't know what to call his race, so you stuck with that term. He stood up and placed his hand on your back to guide you.

„Come on, let's sit in the living room, it'll be more comfortable there. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, you can ask me anything without shame." He sounded so excited.

The next room truly looked like a living room, just in a modern style. What caught your attention the most was the huge stylish couch that was the same color as his skin. The color was a pale blue to grayish, and somehow it had a calming effect on you.

It took you a little while to climb onto the couch next to him, after all, it was made for his size. „Well? You can ask ahead now." hr reminded you. „What now?" The smile on his face dropped a little as you continued. „What will happen with me now?"

When he finally understood your question, he started smiling widely again. „Of course, so... We cannot have your species in one place, each individual will be distributed across half of this planet individually to different homes, where we will take care of you until your reservation is complete."

Gulping, you stared at him like he was talking without a translator. „Reservation?" „Mhm, a place where we'll let you evolve for a few more hundred years so you can finally join our community."

„Um.. That sounds like you're treating us like rabbits." Ah, forgive me, but my translator doesn't know the word 'rabbit' because it has nothing to associate it with, in other words, this term doesn't exist in our language." Don't they know rabbits? Well, you should have expected that they wouldn't have the same animals here as on Earth.

„However... You can compare it to children treating. We just have to let you grow up, let you take your first steps. We can only interfere with that slightly. But the disaster on Earth spoiled our plans a little." His comparison didn't sound so bad anymore, you accepted it.

„So I'm going to live here with you now?" you guessed out loud. „Temporarily, until they relocate you" he replied. You were swaying in place with nervousness. Despite the explanation, you were still feeling uneasy by the whole situation.

„Hey, don't worry, I've read a few books about humans, I know the necessary things, I'll take a good care of you, you can trust me." You licked your dry lips and mumbled. „I think I need some peace and quiet now, I feel.. overwhelmed." „I understand. Can I perhaps show you your room?" he offered and you simply nodded.

It was a spacious apartment, you noticed a lot of differences from a apartment you considered normal. Besides the high ceilings and strange furniture, you noticed that none of the rooms were separated by doors. You wondered why, so you asked him.

"And why do YOU have doors?" he asked you back. "Well, for privacy and... security." "You're not in any danger here, and as far as privacy goes, I'll give you as much space as you need." His kindness relaxed you more and more.

You reached the room where there was a huge round bed with a blanket and a large pillow with interesting patterns on it. Spiral decorative formations resembling plants hung from the ceiling, and on one side was something like a wardrobe you assumed. Although it was still unfamiliar, it was the least alien room you had been in all day.

„It's all yours here, if you want to add anything, just say so. I want you to feel comfortable here." You took a deep breath and exhaled. "Thank you... for being considerate." „Of course, don't mention it. I'll leave you alone here, you can even fall asleep. If you need anything, you can find me in the room opposite yours, it's my room. Also, feel free to wander around if you'd feel like it. You're not here as a visitor, we're more like roommates now."

He was about to leave before you asked him the last question. „How should I call you?" „My name is Lissinlaciss, but you can call me by a shorter nickname... Like Lissin or Laciss, it's up to you, I'll answer on both."

Nodding, you told him your name in return. Before he left, he reminded you to take off the translator so it doesn't bother you in your sleep. Then he gently tapped twice on the wall and the light in your room went out. After you took off your translator you lay under the blanket, which was unexpectedly heavy, but pleasant to the touch. The pillow was fluffy and the mattress soft. Your whole body relaxed and even though you were afraid of the future, you really felt safe.

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Despite your constant efforts, you couldn't fall asleep. Was it the new environment? Was it the light coming from the hallway and the room opposite? But that would be absurd, you couldn't fall asleep in your own home without a night light.

Your goal was to get some rest and organize your thoughts, which you did. So you decided to climb out of the bed and check your surroundings.

You went to look in the room at the end of the hall. It was dark, so you tried tapping on the wall like... he did. Damn, you forgot his name. The tapping worked, the lights actually came on. You assumed it was the bathroom.

It was a little unusual, but the toilet looked... like a toilet. At least something. There was no toilet paper in sight, you'll have to ask him about that.

On your way back, you peeked into the room where your tall pale blue roommate was supposed to be. And there he was. He was sitting in something designly similar to a dentist's chair. He was looking at some hologram and making strange gestures with his hands, maybe that was how he controlled it. You didn't need anything yet, so you continued exploring.

You walked through the living room to the dinning room, where you first appeared. Those were all the rooms that were here. Where was a kitchen in that case? Is it possible that he has his meals imported? You wanted to test if tapping on the wall worked for all the lights. And yes, the lights did indeed turn off and after another tapping you turned them back on.

'Interesting', you thought. What if you tapped somewhere else? Maybe on the floor? You knelt down and did it. A lot of things started to emerge from the walls, including kitchen utensils... Knives, spoons, weird shaped frying pans, probably a teapot and so on.

It startled you a bit, you started tapping on the floor again to make it all hide again. It stressed you out when a lot more things started to appear. You stood up in panic and grabbed your head. „No, no, no, no!!.."

You turned around with the plan to tell the alien, but instead you saw him standing where the door would normally be. Giggling, he observed you with amusement.

You flinched when you heard his suddenly deep voice in another language. You touched your translator in confusion, thinking it wasn't working... But it wasn't there! You forgot to put it back to your ear when you got out of bed. You glanced up at him only to see him handing it to you. Damn that's a bit embarrassing.

When you finally put it on, he repeated what he said, this time in that sweet human voice. „Is there anything I can help you with, Y/N?~" his tone teasing. You stammered as you described to him what you were doing.

„Nothing's wrong, don't worry. Come on, I'll show you how to hide it." You two walked over to the kitchen counter and he ran one finger over its surface twice. Then it all got into it's original place. „I assume you have it a little different on Earth, am I right?" Lissinlaciss asked.

„We have to control it manually... Do all apartments have this type of controling? Like the tapping and... you know." „Everyone has it set up a little differently, but almost everyone use the same technology."

You stood there in silence for a moment until he decided to speak. "I need to finish something, if you wait a moment, I'll get to you right away." You didn't want to be a burden, so you protested that you would just go back to your room. "No, no, we'll have to buy you some clothes anyway, what you're wearing might attract too much attention. You can come with me, I'll show you my room."

After the incident in the kitchen/dinning room, you preferred to avoid touching anything, including walls, not wanting to accidentally trigger something again. Lissinlaciss sat you down on his bed with the same blanket and pillow as yours.

You scanned him as he sat in that strange chair again, gesticulating with his hands. On the hologram in front of his face, it looked like he was writing, only it was in a slightly irregular style; not left to right, not right to left, not bottom to top, or vice versa. You couldn't understand the system.

After a moment, he sighed and turned off the device by tapping it twice again. "I was sending an administrative message saying you arrived safely." he explained to you. „I see." „..." „..."

„..Okay, let's go pick out some clothes for you." And with that you reached a wall, which he placed the back of his hand against, and the wall disappeared pixel by pixel. You couldn't help but be surprised yet amazed. When you went out into the hallway, the wall appeared again behind you.

You stepped onto a platform that took you three floors down. You passed through a gate and saw a street where various creatures were moving. Some were similar to Lissinlaciss, others were completely different in shape and color.

Your translator was able to translate everything you heard. The speech didn't match the movements of their mouths, but you understood their conversations. The path was made out of the same material as the floor in Lissin's apartment. That is, Lissin's and yours. You couldn't avoid the looks from the other people, but they didn't look at you with disgust, just interest. Despite their curiosity, they quickly minded their own businesses.

„There is no need to be nervous, Y/N. I read that your race is very judgmental, you won't find much of that here." He told you, noticing your stiffness. With that, your anxiousness faded away.

Lissin walked slowly so you'd keep up with him, considering that you were half his size. The street you were walking on didn't have the racket you were used to in your city. It was a pleasant change.

After a few minutes of walking he says; „They make custom clothes here, there are more shops, but I doubt they'd have anything in your size." Without your response, you walked inside and were immediately greeted by a woman of the same species as him. Slightly shorter, her skin with a darker blue yet stile pale to grayish. „Lissin, greetings! What can I do for you?" 'Right, his name is Lissin- something.' you said to yourself hoping to remember his name this time.

„Hello, Misxi'de, I'm here today with a new being who needs something to wear, I thought you would be the best choice." Lissin announced back, pointing at your small form. Waving, she smiled at you, squealing with joy.

„Would it be inappropriate to say you are adorable???" It was hard for her to hold back screams. „Um.." You've somehow lost your words. „Come on, I'll measure you." She stated as she stood up and motioned for you to follow her. Lissin walked beside you for your comfort.

She stood you on a line etched into the floor. You expected her to pull out a tape measure, but instead, a light began to flicker from the line below you. "Done, you can go sit down." She said calmly and went into the next room.

Lissin watched you try to climb onto a chair in the waiting room. Although it was comical, he held back his laughter and, with your permission, picked you up to help you sit on it. „Thanks." You mumbled ashamed.

"I'll get you some stools for our apartment so you don't have these problems at home." He smiled at you and put on a bracelet with strings attached to the pads of his fingers.

You were very inattentive today and only now did you realize that Lissin has seven fingers. Light shone from the strings, forming a hologram above his open palm. With gentle movements of his fingers, he controlled what was displayed on it.

A white stool in 3D began to be projected, which he gradually rotated. „What about this one? It doesn't look bad." Then he showed another one, a dark one with various ornaments. „This one is also stylish." He glanced at your shocked face. "You probably don't know this device either, do you..." You looked away from the hologram and answered. "I only know touch devices, we call them phones. Or we use computers..." You chatted while Lissin projected different stools on the hologram. "I know the term 'computer', it's used in travel devices like flying discs."

You liked a pale blue stool that was shown after a while. "I like this one." you admitted, pointing at it. "It would go well with your apartment in terms of color." "You're right, it would go well with OUR apartment." He corrected you. "Right..."

At that moment, the tall woman, Misxi'de, came back and told you to go see her again. Misxi'de pushed back the collar of your shirt a little and placed a small round button on your chest. You had no idea how it stuck to you, almost like a magnet on a fridge, but you almost didn't feel it, it didn't hurt.

„I ask you to go to the cabin and take off your clothes." Your cheeks turned red. „A-all of my clothes?" you asked, unsure. „Of course, when you're naked, you'll press the button on your chest and it will starts to project on your body how new clothes would fit you.

You crawled into the cabin and did everything as instructed. The hologram on you was not even recognizable, you just didn't feel any substance on you. You slowly showed up with clenched fists, still feeling uncomfortable without the feel of your clothes. It showed how you would look like wearing something similar to a tent dress.

They observed you curiously and nodded their heads. "Yeah, it suits them, it doesn't even need any adjustments." She said and Lissin agreed with her opinion. "Please press the button again so we can see another." She continued and you obeyed.

There was no glitch between the projection changes, you breathed a sigh of relief. Now it was showing a sleeveless chest covering with pants that looked like they were made of plastic. You looked at yourself in disgust and Lissin commented. „Looks like you don't like this one.." Misxi'de turned to him. „And you do!? Boy, I thought you had a little bit of sense of style!" „Heyy..." „Next one!" You pressed the button again.

This time it looked identical to the type of clothes Lissin was wearing; a collar over the shoulders covering the chest and a long loincloth reaching down to the floor. You felt a little too exposed for your taste, but it suited you.

„Ooo now that's what I'm talking about!" Cheered Misx'de at the sight of you. Lissin on the other hand wasn't saying a thing. He just stared at you, lips slightly parted, mesmerized. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes to get a reaction. „Ah, yes... This one is good." He stated and scratched the back of his neck.

„Good?? They look stunning!" She corrected him and turned her attention back to you. „What about you, how do you like this style, dear?" You swallowed and looked at yourself again. „Well, it's a bit revealing, however I saw a few people in it on the way here, so I have nothing to be ashamed of. I like it."

„I'm SO glad you like our cultural clothing!" Misx'de blurted out. So that was the reason why this clothing was so common... It's quite possible that you'll fit in better because of it. You chose more different outfits together and then Misx'de... went to make them for you? You didn't know if a machine 'sewed' them or she did, but that didn't matter.

You two thanked her for her services and she wished you a pleasant stay on their planet. 'What a kind extraterrestrial.' you thought for yourself as you walked out of the store with the identical clothing Lissin had.

The looks from passersby were smiling, and even though you were showing more skin than you were used to, you weren't worried at all.

You walked back to the building you had your apartment in. Inside, you met a gentleman of a different race than Lissin. „Good afternoon, Lissinlaciss, where are you coming from?" the red skinned alien with white dots all over his body asked. Lissin exclaimed an answer.

„We were just at Misx'de's, choosing new clothes for Y/N." The red one, as tall as Lissin, lowered his gaze and looked at you. „Ahh, you must be the human Laciss wouldn't shut up about! I wondered how you'd look like." You glanced at Lissin for a moment and noticed him looking away.

„Anyway, my name's Bah'rah, nice to meet you, lil human." He put the back of his hand to you. It was a strange action, you didn't know what to do or how to react, so you gently squeezed his four-fingered hand and shook it.

The two of them looked at you in silence for a moment, and then Bah'rah burst out laughing. You felt a little embarrassed, but then Lissin placed his hand on your shoulder. „Sorry, I probably should have taught you some basics, but don't worry, we'll catch up to that together."

When Bah'rah finally stopped laughing, he wiped his tear and grabbed your hand. „Look, like this;" He placed the backs of your hands together. „Ah, I see... apologies I didn't know." you admitted and laughed nervously. „Naah, you had no way to find out, that's totally fine!"

After the boys did the same, you said your goodbyes. When the platform took you to the third floor and you came to the wall with a strange mark on it, Lissin drew a cross on the wall with one finger and finally placed the back of his hand on the wall. The wall disappeared pixel by pixel and you walked inside before it reappeared once again.

Lissin handed you the bag with your new clothes and went with you to your room where he showed you how the wardrobe works.

„Nothing complicated, you just draw a tiny circle onto the surface. Go ahead and try." You walked closer and made that little circle on the wardrobe with your index finger. A short high-pitched sound was heard and the wardrobe opened in the same way as an automatic doors in supermarkets would. After tiding up your clothes, all you had to do was press the display inside it at your face level to close the wardrobe again.

He awkwardly asked you if you were hungry, to which you admitted that you were a little. It was almost dinner time, so he suggested that he'll prepare the food while you clean yourself up.

The shower in the bathroom worked differently than you were used to. He stood you in the middle and showed you how to control everything. Instead of water, your body would be covered in mist, which would then evaporate.

„Then you walk over here and place your palm on this touchpad. Warm air will blow on you, which will dry you. But don't worry, it won't be too hot. It will stop by itself when you're dry, and then you can put on the clothes you have over there." „I think I understand."

„Okay, I'll make dinner. If you need anything, shout, I'm sure I'll hear you since there's no door. But fear not, I won't come here unless you call." You smiled in confidence and he then walked away, leaving you to the mercy of the bathroom.

You undressed and placed both palms on the wall next to you. A mist began to appear, clinging only to one part reserved for the shower. The mist was getting into your mouth and eyes, which bothered you a bit, Lissin probably didn't have a problem with this considering he was twice your size.

After about two minutes, the mist returned to where it came from and you touched the touchpad for it to dry you. The warm air felt so nice on your body, you almost didn't want to leave. But then it stopped and you were forced to go get dressed.

The dining room turned into the kitchen, where Lissin was preparing the promised meal. He wrapped a mixture of various plants, probably vegetables, into a transparent dough, which was then pressed out by an automatic machine. In the end, it looked like a fresh spring roll that was half a meter long.

„It looks delicious." you announced, startling him slightly. „O-oh... Thank you, I hope you'll like the taste as well." You noticed two soft balloons that were part of the floor placed by the table.

„You can sit on one of the damig'hen" He said the strange word in a deeper voice. Your translator probably didn't have a suitable translation for it. It sounded slightly creepy in his own voice, but you shrugged it off snd sat on one of the balloons and tried to repeat its name.

„Damn..ing.. han.?" you repeated in a low whisper. „Ah, did it not translate?" „...No." „I was talking about those white things, although you understood well." Lissin cut the roll in half and put each on the table for the both of you. Without plates. Without cutlery.

„Ahh, I'm not sure I'll eat it all, there's a lot of it." you confessed at the sight of the portion. „That's fine, eat as much as you want, no need to overeat yourself."

You both waited for the other to start eating. You sacrificed yourself and started. Grabbed the roll in both hands you bit into its edge. Your eyes lit up at the delicious taste. „Oh my gosh- I have no idea what it is but this is the most delicious food I have ever tried! Fuck..."

Lissin was shocked and silent for a moment. „F-fuck??" he repeated in question. „OH- I'm sorry, forgive me, I shouldn't have cursed..." guild and shame washed over you. „No! No, no, Y/N, that is absolutely okay, I curse as well! It's just... that I have never heard someone use coitus as a curse word before."

Was he serious?

„Oh crumbs... Still, it was inappropriate. I apologize." „Worry not." Then you started to eat again. The thing troubling you was that Lissin was still having his eyes glued on you. 'A bit disturbing' you thought. „Are you not going to eat?" you decided to ask. „...I am." Chewing another piece, you stared back at him.

Lissin shifted in his seat petitely. His body language showed discomfort. It was strange to think so, but it seemed like he didn't want to eat his food in front of you. You put your roll back on the table. "Are you done eating? Already? Won't you be hungry?" Lissin asked worriedly. "I'll start eating when you start."

Now his eyes were fixed on the portion in front of him. "My race doesn't eat like yours." He mumbled. "I just don't want you to feel... well... I don't want you to lose your appetite." He admitted defeatedly. You didn't understand his concerns.

„Are you really that uncomfortable eating in front of me? ...Would it help if I went to eat somewhere else?" „WAIT NO! That would be SO rude from my side- No. No please don't." He raised his voice in fear of you leaving. „Well unless it's you who wishes to do so." Lissin added.

„Enlighten me then." you told him confidently. After gulping, he started looking in your direction again. „Humans use... their mouths for various activities." You gave him a side eye for starting a sentence like that. „...By that I mean breathing, previously used as self-defense, taking in water and.. food." „Mhm.. right." „Did I miss something?" „Nahh..." you lied.

„Meanwhile innyli'sez, my race, uses upper mouth just for breathing." „Okay, I understand that so far." You tried to keep your attention on Lissin, despite the urge to dig into that delicious roll again.

„I guess it would be better.. and easier- if I just showed you..." He straightened his back and knelt on the pillow balloon beneath him to raise himself a little higher. The edge of the table was at the level of his lower abdomen.

The straight line that was carved horizontally into his stomach began to open up. You had noticed the line before, but you didn’t want to mention it for fear it would be a sensitive subject for him. „..I thought it was a scar?" His stomach opened up completely and teeth started to protrude.

„Didn't you notice when we were outside that all of my race had this?" He asked confused. „You see, I was just looking at the ground out of nervousness. Not at people around." You were fascinated by his open toothy organ and leaned in to get a better look.

„Aren't you disgusted? Aren't you afraid?" Lissin carried mixed feelings. „Actually, no... I find it cool." Relaxation crept over him at your positive words. You sat back down in your seat and continued eating your dinner.

„Okaaay, now we can eat together, so bon appetite." you stated. With a warm smile he moved the roll to his lower mouth and started eating too.

With a giant mouth like his, it was clear that he would finish it first, even though he started eating after you. And when you said you probably wouldn't eat it all, you were right. You had a lot left, but you were full and satisfied. He had the rest of the roll preserved with another kitchen gadget that you also didn't know how it's being used.

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Lissin also used the shower and showed up in a cloth that was white, like most of his clothes. He noticed before you did, how you started to yawn. „Let's go to sleep, what do you say?" He offered. „Is it dark outside already?" you asked. „Well, here the planet is never completely turned away from the star, and there is almost never light on the opposite sides of the planet."

„So there are no windows in the apartments here so you can sleep well at night?" „That may be one of the reasons." He walked you to your room and instead of tapping the wall twice to turn on the lights, he began to gently drum on it repeatedly with all seven fingers, resembling raindrops. Your room began to glow with a faint orange light. "That's nice..." you faintly said. "I figured the warm light would be more bearable for your eyes."

You crawled under the covers and yawned again. „I hope I can sleep this time, I couldn't this afternoon." Lissin knelt by your bed and leaned on one hand for support. „I'm not surprised you didn't fall asleep, as you slept the entire way here, which took 13 kar'jevics." The translator couldn't find a suitable translation again and his original voice rang in your ears again. „Umm... how much is 13.. kar- that thing?" „Let me calculate... Hmm, yeah.. Something around two months."

„WHAT!??!" „...What?"

„I thought I slept for like... a day! How could I sleep for two whole months!?" You didn't expect this information before going to bed. „Well, it wasn't two whole months... More like 55 days or so." „That's not any better!" you argued.

„You know what? I have an idea." Lissin stood up and came to the center of the room. He stomped his foot on the floor four times and a strange sound began to echo from all corners of the room. It scratched your brain so well- It was way better than a white noise.

Your body completely shut down and you closed your eyes due to the heavy eyelids. Lissin gently and carefully removed your translator from your ear and turned off the light. Before he left, you heard him say something in his own language in a weak voice. With the last of your strength, you opened your mouth and whispered "Good night to you too." He chuckled because you were perfectly right with your answer, because he indeed wished you 'good night.'

Illustration of your first meeting :3

part 2!

117 notes · View notes

whats-yesterday00 · 6 months ago

Text

High-Sensitivity.

(some lovely little content warnings- nsfw, obviously. rk800 - connor x gender-neutral reader, sub!connor.. the works. enjoy~)

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You heard muffled panting and weak groans coming from the spare bedroom. The spare bedroom you let Connor occupy after the successful android revolution- you didn’t mind his company, but you often found yourself returning home to these sounds. The breathy whimpers. The weak moans. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing in there.. As quietly as you can, you approach the door. The muffled noises you’re hearing from Connor get slightly louder in volume the closer you get. You slowly reach out and push the door open without a sound, and there you’re greeted with a sight to behold.

You expected something simple. Connor pleasuring himself, sure. What you didn’t expect to see was the android holding himself up on the bed as his hips were hungrily rutting into the pillow beneath him- he had shoved it haphazardly between his thighs, almost out of a pure desperation to get off.

His biceps and forearms were strained, artificial muscles bulging from holding himself up for so long as his fingers grip the sheets beneath him. He must’ve lowered the temperature in the room as you notice puffs of hot air escaping his parted lips, and interestingly, a bowl of ice placed nearby. You wonder if he was using that to keep his systems from getting too overheated, or for pleasure..

Your eyes shamelessly run over his naked figure as he continues to pleasure himself, seemingly unaware of your presence watching from the cracked doorway. A blue toned blush covered his cheeks, and similarly, the head of his cock was the same shade of blue- almost begging to be touched. His eyes were shut tight, his LED spinning red as he pants and his hips stuttered forward as a breathy moan fell from his lips. A moan of your name. You can’t control what you do next. You push the door open the rest of the way and enter the room, quickly approaching the bed. You put a knee on the edge and cup his jaw firmly in your hand. Connor’s eyes shoot open and in an instant, he freezes up, panic evident in his features as he gasps your name. “I-I.. I didn’t know you were home. I’m so sorry.” “I didn’t tell you to stop.” You mutter, much to the poor android’s confusion. His sweet brown eyes lock onto yours, awaiting clarification on the matter. “You heard me. Keep going, Connor.” You whisper to him, trailing a finger down his jawline. A shuddered breath escapes his lips at your touch and he obeys, beginning to slowly roll his hips down against the pillow between his thighs again. You watch him move for a moment, interest shining in your eyes. Connor lets out a few breathy gasps as he moves his hips and you move your head slightly to watch how his cock twitches against the pillow. He really was desperate. “So.. you gonna tell me what the ice is for, Con?” You tease, and he almost whines out his response. “D-Don’t ͍̭̜͔ͯ̉w̯͗ͤ̑͂ͥà̜̫͍̣͖̑̉ͧ̿n͎̦̜̻͈̠̜͊͒̀̈́ͯ̾͊ͅt͓̙͔͊ to.. o-overheat.” He manages, his vocal modulator glitching slightly in the process. You smile hearing this. You slowly reach over, taking an ice cube and popping it into your mouth, sucking on it as you watch Connor work his hips. The moment another puff of hot air escapes him, you lean forward- your lips meeting his as you hold his jaw firmly in place.

Connor moans out against your lips and in an instant, his tongue is entering your mouth. He lets out a slight noise of surprise when he not only feels how cold your tongue is, but it also met with the rapidly melting ice. If even possible, it only turns him on more. He kisses you with such a fervent hunger that it almost pushes you back from where you’ve kneeled on the bed.

You are sure to push back, both hands cupping his face now as you kiss him. Messily. Passionately. Once you feel that the ice has fully melted, you slowly pull back from the kiss to catch your breath, with Connor immediately leaning in for more the second you had separated from him. You laugh under your breath, gently pushing him back. “Easy, baby.. I’ll take care of you..” “P-Please?” Connor is quick to beg for you. It didn’t matter what you were going to do, all he knew is that he wanted you. You consumed his thoughts. He needed you. A sultry smile makes its way to your lips. Without another word, you move one of your hands, ice-cold fingertips dragging down his chest.

You take your time with him, studying his reactions and making sure he never once stopped moving his hips. Your hand slips further down until you feel where his thirium pump regulator is located just beneath his sternum. You can feel it rapidly thrumming beneath your fingers, trying to compensate for his behavior.

Your head tilts slightly and after a brief moment of consideration, you use your nails to pry up the edges- like you were going to remove it. Connor’s synthetic skin pulls back in an instant, revealing that white chassis underneath and he gasps loudly. You watch the rapid red spinning of his LED and you press the regulator that small half-inch back into him. It clicks.

“̺̘̟̼̓F̣̙̣̟̺͒̐̒-̺̘̟̼̓F̣̙̣̟̺̗͒̐̒u̯͍̱ͦc̟͕ͩͣ̇̋ͨk͈̲̂̋̍̌~” Connor moans out, blinking a few times after you toy with his regulator. You just smirk, watching as his skin slowly replaces itself. He didn’t expect that to feel good. Your hand slips down further, his hips still mindlessly rutting into the pillow beneath him. It was a wonder he hadn’t cum yet.

With ease, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. His hips eagerly buck upwards into your hand as he breathes out your name. Your cold fingers caress him, feeling every detail, every vein.

Connor groans, his head resting down against your shoulder as he tries to stabilize himself somehow. One of his hands brace against your thigh as you touch him.

You slowly swipe your thumb over his tip, admiring the pretty blue shade it had become in his desperation. He almost hisses when you touch the sensitive head, hips momentarily pulling back before pushing right back into your touch.

“You feel a little hot, Connor..” You murmur, using your free hand now to pick up two ice cubes from the bowl. He lifts his head up when he hears the slight clink from the dish, going to explain why he was heating up- but you interrupt him by placing one of the ice cubes into his mouth. His eyebrows furrow, about to question you before a muffled moan rips through him. You were using that second ice cube on him. Slowly running it over that prominent vein on the underside of his length. Circling it around his hypersensitive tip. His head falls back against your shoulder as he nearly whimpers, his hand gripping your thigh underneath him. You can hear how the ice in his mouth has muffled him, yet he sucks on it, still attempting to cool down.

“That’s it.. good boy..” You whisper in his ear, hearing a quiet and almost glitched whine escape him in response to your words. You smile, letting the ice slip to your palm as you wrap your hand around his base again, slowly working it up and down. He groans again, the ice making him shudder as he feels it travel against him. His fingers dig into your thigh as his hips slowly roll into your hand in time with your movements. It was agonizingly slow, but he loved it. You keep your hand moving against him, pumping his length at a steady pace as Connor pants against your neck. You use your free hand to slowly drag your fingers up his arm, over his shoulder, to the back of his neck and into his hair.. where you tangle them into the messy locks and tug his head back, forcing eye contact.

Connor gasps, his eyes half-lidded as his head leans back with your grip on his hair. You lean close, pressing your lips against his once more. He kisses you back in an instant, desperate to taste you. As his tongue slips into your mouth, you quicken the pace of your hand against him, pumping faster. He moans heavily into your mouth and you can feel his cock twitch under your fingers.

It was Connor’s turn to break the kiss this time. He pants against your lips, forehead resting against yours. His hips buck up quickly into your hand, noises of pure unadulterated need falling from his lips every time your fingers seem to catch him just right.

“I-I.. I n͎̦̜̻͈̲̦͚̙͊͒̀e͕̬̲̦͚̙̔͛͌e͕̬͔̤̔͛͌̽͒̓̇d̼̪̫̙̔ more..” He gasps slightly, eyes finding yours. He was pleading with you, LED spinning red. Your head tilts as you consider, briefly, what more could he want? Then it clicks. You feel the way he is clutching your thigh for dear life and you smirk. “I’ve got an idea. Sit back..” You gently tell him, releasing your grip on his hair and pulling your hand away from his cock. He whines at the loss of contact and it takes him nearly a full minute to adjust, slowly resting back on his knees. His chest rises and falls heavily as he stares at you, his eyes swimming with lust and want. You adjust your position now as well, resting on your knees with your legs slightly spread. You make eye contact with the android, slowly tilting your head to the side before nodding down towards one of your thighs. “Come here.” Connor’s blush darkens. He gulps before slowly moving closer to you, almost hesitating before he straddles your thigh. He puts his hand on your other thigh as a means of balancing himself again, gripping tight when you shift just barely. He hisses- the fabric of your jeans causing friction he didn’t know he needed.

“Feels good, doesn’t it baby..?” You coo, placing your hand on the back of his neck so you could toy with his hair. Connor nods his head eagerly, head tilted down to maintain eye contact with you as he begins slowly rutting his hips into your thigh. He squeezes his eyes shut, whimpering under his breath at the new feeling.

You smile as you watch him pleasure himself on you. He was so desperate to finish that he was just a squirming mess against you. As he bucks his hips, you’ll occasionally press your thigh up into him to get a reaction, always resulting in a string of glitched swears or a loud whine from the android. He was too cute like this.

You can tell when he’s starting to get close. His pants are closer together and his eyes are shut tight as your name continually falls from his lips, begging for you to touch him. So you comply. You watch as his hips start to stutter against your thigh, struggling to keep up, and you move your free hand against his chest. Again, your fingers quickly find his regulator.

You watch as his synthetic skin pulls back for your touch, and just like you had done before, you pry it up, just a bit. Connor gasps out a bit, his fingers digging into your thigh and his back arching forward as his head falls back. You promptly push it back in with that firm click and he lets out a guttural moan, finally cumming. His modulator glitches yet again with that loud sound as his hips mindlessly rut against your thigh, following his orgasm.

You slowly pull your hand back and watch as Connor slowly comes down from his high, panting heavily as all of his movements gradually slow to a stop. His head hangs forward and his LED spins- red, then yellow, until it settles on that soft blue.

When he is calm, he slowly raises his head to meet your eye so he can thank you, cheeks still flushed. Instead, he is met with your head tilted and eyebrow raised, subtle smirk evident on your lips.

“Well? Are you gonna clean up your mess?” ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆⋆⁺｡ wc: 2,023.

#connor x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #oneshot #smut #connor rk800 #rk800 x reader #dbh x reader

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chimera-dreams · 13 days ago

Text

This Tiny Thing Called Entropy

Chap 3

Task Force 141 Ensemble x reader

tags: tags and warnings to be added by chapter | violence, reader has a nickname/callsign, slow burn, weird mix between modern and future, dystopian, androids, eventual smut, see full list on (Ao3) (registered users)

wc: 9.3k

CW: human trafficking

Chap 1 | chap 2 | chap 3 | chap 4

Being a mercenary meant that seeing full-tac gear was a novelty to you, generally speaking.

You got the pleasure of observing the boys suit up. They were incredibly efficient with it, their equipment functioning as a second skin at this point in their careers. It was another part of their routine to them, muscle memory beaten in by a high-carbon hammer next to a blazing forge. It fascinated you, this attempt of yours to keep track of just how much shit they put on themselves for a single mission.

Vest, helmet, ammo, utilities, nightvision – how the fuck were they able to walk around in all that, let alone silently? All those buckles and straps and crinkly things were just begging to make as much noise as possible, yet you heard not a peep from them.

Kyle dressed differently, as his task revolved around being out on the street, visible. Bulletproof vest and guards under a standard, gray T-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a simple, fitted jacket made of a chestnut fabric created a casual, effortlessly stylish look. He didn’t stand out in any regard, neither too stiff nor too loose. The perfect blend of work and civilian.

Despite their insistence on getting you into some gear, too, you were able to convince them that it’d only hinder you and make the mission harder. You were used to your soft fabrics that made no sound as they glided against each other, preferring the all-consuming void that was black dye that aided you in adhering to shadows. If nothing else, you at least had that in common with Ghost.

That skull plate of his was significantly scarier than his damn balaclavas, though.

John made the final decision to let you be, and while you were grateful, you saw the flickers of confusion pass across the two other faces you could see. Ghost’s reaction, or possible lack thereof, remained a mystery to you.

You knew why they were unsettled by his choice. Price was a deeply protective man, always steered toward the ‘better to have it and not need it’ end of the spectrum. To him, there was no such thing as over preparing. Truly, you could never know what the day would hold in store for you; so, for him to tell his men no to getting you stuffed into a crowded getup? Yeah, you saw how that might set off a few warning bells.

Their trust in him impressed you. They took his word as gospel, obeyed, and finished dressing themselves.

Order notwithstanding, though, you could sense their stares piercing into you, examining the loose flow of your pullover and well-fitted leggings. You might as well have been butt-ass naked in their educated opinion, but you knew best how you worked. Tossing on an extra 35 pounds on top of you would assuredly hinder your ability to operate.

John knew, too, though he didn’t say why or how aloud to his team. You were grateful, and decided you’d buy him a nice bottle of scotch. A hearty whisky always did an old man like him good, and he deserved it for protecting not only his boys, but you.

Barring protection, you needed to be as inconspicuous as possible if you had any hope of getting close to your target or targets, whomever they may be. Close enough to release your Jumping Spider, at the very least.

Downy, tightly-woven knits made virtually no sound when rubbed; leggings that hugged you from ankle to hip gave you comfort and minimal restriction without worry of getting tripped up or caught on anything on the move, while a top that hung slack around your midsection and cinched at your wrists gave you plenty of range of motion. Plus, your sleeves could double as pockets for small items, if you were in a pinch.

You’d been accused of resembling a crow, or magpie, at times. Not because of the all-ink clothes, no, but because of your tendency to go “ooh, shiny!” at any random object and toss whatever junk you found into your collection. Kate had made the connection, then Price, and if these boys were lucky, they’d get to be in your vicinity long enough to see it in action.

Speaking of action, you were torn.

A simple and easy mission meant you’d get triple your normal wage essentially for free, courtesy of John Price himself. You were pretty sure that Laswell would be the one transferring the money to you, but your point stood. Many hands make easy work, and all that.

However, simple and easy also meant boring. Remarkably so.

Action was fun. Thrilling, enticing. Yes, you were particular towards being, y’know, alive – but you wouldn’t deny the rush of zeal you got in the heat of a mission. In your mind, there was a blurry yet distinct separation between being caught in the midst of an assignment, and being detained by authorities.

Yes, chances were that you’d die either way, but you’d rather go out in a blaze of glory in one scenario, than a terrified little girl in the second. Neither would know your name, the one you were given not at conception, but by the one who loved you most. Neither would care for you post-mortem, certainly not. To both, you were a pestilence they would be all the happy to be rid of.

However, one scenario meant you’d go out believing you’d immortalized yourself, lived plenty and more, earned the right to call yourself victorious.

The other meant you broke your promise.

And, you wouldn’t be breaking your promise. Not now, not ever. You’d willingly die at the hands of some trust fund baby’s protection squad sooner than you’d let any lawman lay a grimy finger on a single hair of your head.

At least, then, you wouldn’t be around to watch your body be desecrated; stripped apart layer by layer, skin giving way to bone, bone giving way to ichor. You wouldn’t have to be bound down, knowing the wrong kind of death was approaching. You’d have the mercy of the world going black before hell came your way.

Maybe, that was why you sought out danger.

You wondered if they were the same as you, these men. Not on the surface, nor beneath the sinew of your existence, rather on a fundamental level. Why did they do this kind of dirty work? Why did they stain their palms with cruor, knowing its claret mark would never wash out, that they’d never be able to pick their nails clean of the muck and dirt they clawed open graves to throw nameless faces into?

You pondered on their motives as you watched Price check them over. They didn’t need it, their ability to rapidly dress and prepare told you that much. You had a feeling it was more for the Captain’s sake than theirs by now. A comfort, a reassurance, to know with certainty that his boys were ready.

Done with his inspection, he came to you, patting your bicep.

“Set to go, love?” He murmured, voice pitched low. Warm and tender, caring. His silvery-blue eyes were watery, offering you one last chance to back out before you got into the thick of it, before the door would vanish behind you.

You pretended it didn’t send a shiver running up your spine.

“Yeah,” you breathed out.

His fingers squeezed your arm, then he released you. You mourned the loss of his touch, the heat of his palm encasing you. Silently, of course.

He led the way up a narrow staircase within the basement area. It went up through a trapdoor into the main building, the faux storefront. It looked the part; stocked shelves, a counter near the front, a register on the counter. Hell, maybe it was a real store. Less conspicuous than one random empty lot in the midst of a spattering of others.

Not given much time to take in the space, you followed after the team as they exited through a backdoor into a narrow alley. John ushered you after them, his hand eclipsing the small of your back to nudge you forward before it was gone again, freed so he could shut the door.

One end of the passageway opened up to the main street, while the other opened to a van awaiting your group. Nondescript, white, completely and monumentally standard. There were no markings on the vehicle, nothing that would give away its role in this operation. Windowless on all sides, save for the windshield and two front doors.

Kyle – Gaz, now, on the field – popped open the back and climbed inside efficiently, tailed by Soap. You stepped around the door, and found a wide, outstretched hand in front of you, anticipating you.

You grabbed it, and were easily hoisted up by Soap. You expected him to let go as soon as you were steady on your feet, but he kept his gloved paw wrapped around your palm. Behind you, Ghost shut the doors, closing you in with them. He walked around to the front and climbed into the passenger seat, Price already having taken the helm.

The cabin lacked a bulkhead, freeing up space as well as allowing for free communication between those up front and those in the cargo hold. To your left was a bench, and to the right was a range of electronic devices secured to the wall. A few screens, currently off, a shelf carrying what appeared to be entirely random tools and, hell, was that an IP scrambler? Shit, that thing looked older than you, how was it still alive?

Soap only released you when the engine kicked to life, seemingly reluctant to do so. He hovered, too, until you were sat on the bench, after which he settled into place beside you, knee pressed to yours. Tingles spread through your scalp at the contact, pooling in the form of tepid tension in the pit of your stomach.

What the hell is going on with me?

First Price, now Soap?

“You always a mother hen?” You prodded instead of acknowledging the bizarre sensations that’d begun to infect you.

His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth, only to be cut off by a snort from Gaz, who busied himself with starting up the surveillance systems.

“Mother hen? He can barely take care of himself–”

“Oi!”

“–if anyone is a mother hen, it’s Ghost.”

Speaking of the devil, the man growled out to his sergeant, not bothering to lift his head from the laptop he’d retrieved from thin fucking air, apparently. Granted, you were distracted by Soap’s nearness, but regardless. “Watch it.”

“Apologies, sir.”

“Ghost?” You whispered to Soap.

He nodded solemnly. “Quiet as the devil, that yin, but he willnae rest ‘til we’re all sorted ‘n’ in one piece.”

What little you knew of Ghost painted an entirely different picture, one of a brooding and aloof man. Smoking cigarettes alone, staring into space at 2 AM with a cooling mug of tea clutched by the handle, brushing others off at any sign of disquiet about his state. Tall, beefy beyond belief, it was no wonder you saw him as a scary guard dog.

Now, that viewpoint had been challenged, altered. As opposed to a feral beast, lingering too close to the edge of snapping his maw for comfort, you pictured him as a livestock guardian. Ruthless and unforgiving when it came to protecting his flock. Jaws designed to crush bone, tear out throats, were the same that nuzzled into the cotton fleece of the herd he laid his life on the line for, bloodied his claws for.

Phosphorus on a black coat, sockets and fangs emphasized, a collar covered in steel spikes encasing his throat to protect his jugular, the reaper’s hound heeling at Price’s command.

And, suddenly, he wasn’t so scary. Not to you, not while you were under John’s watchful keep, in the refuge he built for his pack. For however long you’d spend lying on the same hay that the rest of his drove, you knew Ghost would shield you from any danger the same way he shielded his own.

They’d make for good ranchers, you considered idly, in a better world.

Driven by curiosity, you reached out a foot to tap Gaz’s heel using your toe, nabbing his attention.

“What would you do, if not this?” You asked.

He stopped typing on the keyboard laid out on the thin desk in front of him, pondering. “Dunno. Never really thought on it.”

“Not at all?”

He shrugged languidly. “One of my sisters owns a brick-and-mortar in Southern Wales. Bakery-café, it’s a cozy place. Wouldn’t mind working there.”

“It’s a far cry from the military.”

He huffed, humor tinging his words. “That’s why I’d do it. Peaceful, yeah? Something simple. Just…human.”

Human.

Is this how one defines humanity? In mundanity? Peacefulness?

Back to setting up the computer system, he repeated your question to you.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, staring absently at the back of Price’s head. “An astronaut, maybe.”

He angled his head over his shoulder to peer at you. “An astronaut?”

You nodded, the movement subtle. Beyond the cabin, the world blurred past in a haze of drizzling rain that began to lighten, the sky tinted a somber sea holly.

“Always been drawn to space,” you mumbled. “The cosmos as a whole. Stars, planets, nebulae and blackholes and everything in between.”

Your eyes flickered up to a billboard.

The thing was old, immensely so. A decade, two, maybe. The edges were tattered and washed out, the advertisement bleached by years upon years of endless deluges and sunbursts. Half of it was torn, shredded, like some monster had scratched it out in the whirling crack of a blistering rage. A figure occupied the left side, their features long since scrubbed out by Mother Nature’s callused hands.

Graffiti besmirched what little of the image remained, violent streaks of reds and blacks, blues and yellows. Still, you could see what lingered beneath, vague scratches of an aged puzzle, what the people wished so desperately to erase.

No, not erase.

Destroy.

The words, discolored and etiolated, mocked passersby. It reminded them of a time when life was richer, more vibrant. When technology was rising faster and faster, each day marking the start of a brand new creation designed to lighten the average person’s life, ease the load. Medicine was improving, evolving. Menial labor was pointless. Loneliness ceased to exist.

People tended to dislike thinking of the past, of the things they tore apart.

Get █he new█st release of S█rvo Cogs™ bion toda█!

Lim█ted time ██fer; ███ Doll Series Mk█.0

Ju██ call: ██GO TO HELL███FUCK YOU

The rest was obstructed or stricken from existence by time.

Which left the graffiti.

SHIT█Kill all robots!! ████ DICK WAS HERE

bots are evil!!!!█

DI█DIE █IE DIE█ █HELL

██NO BOTS ALLOWED██CUNT

You breathed out through your nose, your head tipping until the back of your skull rested on cool metal.

“If life were different, I would’ve wanted to be an astronaut,” you continued from where you left off, the image of the billboard burned into your mind after passing it. “Explore space, man a voyage to the end of our solar system, see what lies beyond.”

He hummed in quiet acceptance. “Why space?”

Your lashes fluttered, tranquil on the highs of your cheeks. “Freedom. Just…floating, unbound by anything. Gravity can’t touch you up there, not really. To me, it’s the truest form of freedom there is.”

And, truly, was there anything more valuable than freedom? Freedom to live, breathe, want, and not be scorned for it?

“Ah woulda been an animator,” Soap chimed in, dreamy.

Curiosity piqued, you weakly elbowed his side. “An animator?”

He smirked, canines peeking from behind his lips. “Aye. Loved ‘em as a bairn. Every morn’, ah’d be planted ‘hind the telly at the arse crack o’ dawn. Me mither had ta drag me away by the herr–”

From the front seat came a deep, long-suffering groan. “Speak english.”

Soap shot Ghost a glare and purposefully enunciated his words with a mock English accent. “I said, my mum had to pull me away from the feckin’ telly kickin’ an’ screamin’.”

“Was that so hard?”

“Away an’ bile yer heid,” Soap grumbled, too low for Ghost to hear. That, or the lieutenant decided to be merciful and ignore him.

Paying the older man no mind, you urged the Scot to continue. “You wanted to go into animation?”

Just like that, his bubbly enthusiasm was back. “Aye! Always loved ‘toons. Wanted ta make wee kiddos happy, give ‘em somethin’ fun to watch. Bit o’ a pipe dream, that.”

You set a palm on his knee, squeezing. “I bet you would’ve made a great animator.”

He scanned your face, mellowing. “Think so?”

“Yeah. All the best artists are those who love doing what they do.”

“Thanks, lass.”

The conversation was cut short by the stern husk of Price. “We’re here. Gaz?”

Gaz straightened. “Computer’s set up, sir.”

Price nodded as he pulled over, parking by a curb. He turned in his seat, pale blue irises bouncing from him, to Soap, then to you. “We’ll go over the plan once more. You’ll go out with Gaz. Act as a couple, lay low, keep an eye on the building.”

You both murmured ‘understood’ to him. Pointedly, you ignored the buzz that rippled to life in your stomach at the thought of pretending to be intimate with Kyle.

Next, he addressed the man in the passenger seat. “Ghost, you’re on cameras. See if you can’t spot anyone resembling any of our suspects.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. Soap, you’re on backup with me. If shit hits the fan, we go in and provide cover.”

“You got it, Cap,” Soap acquiesced, albeit wearing a small pout. He pulled the short end of the stick this time, stuck with the immensely difficult job of sitting still.

You patted his shoulder in solidarity. He beamed at you.

Ghost got up from his post, climbing into the back area with your group. He set the laptop down on the table, replacing Gaz at the monitors. His fingers typed rapidly across the keyboard, confident and comfortable. He pulled up some sort of government website and filled out the login details – how he got them was anyone’s guess, but you weren’t inclined to ask. The site loaded, then a span of various screens flickered to life across the displays.

Influenced by your curiosity, you got up and stood beside him, taking in the rows of surveillance footage available, twelve in total. In two of them, you could spot the building you were here to investigate.

“Wow,” you drawled in amazement. “These cameras fucking suck.”

True to your words, the blurry imagery was immensely difficult to make out. You could spot civilians walking up and down the streets, and that was about it. Making out any defining details was a challenge in and of itself, and you did not envy your lieutenant’s task.

Gaz and Soap burst out laughing, and, somehow, you managed to attain a snort from Ghost. That alone felt like its own victory.

“That’s likely why they chose this area,” Price provided. “At least one of them has good knowledge of the area, and knows that surveillance is shoddy, if not outright unavailable. Sutton isn’t exactly known for its authority, after all.”

“Now, it’s up to us,” Soap said. He stood and grabbed something from the shelf, tossing it to Gaz, who jerked his head towards the back doors to push you into motion.

He popped them open, not too wide, and hopped out. You exited, too, after waving lazily at the men left behind in the van, the doors shutting much more gently than how Ghost had closed them earlier. Outside now, your partner messed with his right ear, then lifted his hand to show you an earpiece – yours, presumably.

“Alright if I put this in for you?”

You nodded, and he pinched your chin impossibly gingerly, adjusting your head as he needed. His fingers swept up your loose tresses, tucking them out of the way. Using an expert touch, quick but placid, Gaz fitted the comms into the conch of your ear, adjusting it until it sat comfortably. “How’s that, Maven?”

“Maven? Who the hell is Maven?” Price’s voice echoed directly in your ear, testing the radio.

Soap’s voice crackled through the comms, far too jovial. “‘S the new name o’ our lass.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling her, now?”

“Aye. Fits, don’ ye think?”

“I can see it.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave your partner a thumbs-up. “All good.”

His lips spread into an easy grin. “Let me know if you need me to fix it, yeah?”

“I will,” you assured, though he nestled it perfectly on the first try. Attentive and careful, you’d put money on him being the most observant of people on the Task Force. Which, you figured, was the reason behind Price teaming you up with him specifically.

Kyle was capable of blending in with society, with the residents that sauntered across the streets they believed they owned.

While Ghost lived in shadows, Kyle absorbed the sunlight like it was made for him, the rising glow of morning sun that yawned through the dense clouds overhead kissing the smooth lines of his cheeks and reflecting off his long lashes like gold.

Gods, what an unfairly beautiful specimen.

“We’ll circle the block, then stop at the bench across the street from the building. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” you repeated.

Obtaining approval from Price, the pair of you began walking, elbows brushing. Thankfully, said block was relatively small, and the walk was short. Some ten minutes later, you were seated on the designated bench, hip-to-hip with Gaz. He stayed pressed to you, devoted to his role, and you admired him for it. Wholly unfamiliar with working with so many people at once, especially directly on the field, you had to admit that you weren’t expecting him to be this serious about the job.

Where you expected to simply stay within proximity of each other, he wasn’t shy about getting cozy with you to sell the image of a happy couple. He kept his arm slung across the bench rest behind you, fingers absently toying with a section of your hair. For now, you took in your surroundings, trying to spot anybody that matched the description of any of the suspects you had.

In the meantime, it gave you the opportunity to case the true subject of this mission.

The warehouse made you feel uneasy.

Forced to pay attention now, you started to pick up on multiple things that simply were…wrong.

Unassuming from the street, were you nothing more than a passerby, you wouldn’t stop to give it any mind. It might not even register as existing at all. Its brick exterior, kiln-fired blocks of red clay, were dulled into a murky, muddy brown. White fascia and window sills appeared sooty, grime and dirt and smog miring their surfaces.

Unusually, it had an alley on one side. Like the rest of the buildings present, it was connected to another, but that gap stuck out like a sore thumb. To you, anyway.

There were no lights inside. None, zip, zilch. In fact, it looked as if the series of windows on the front had been blacked out entirely, either with curtains, boards, or some other form of cover. It made it impossible to look in and get a peek, no matter how close you leaned, how hard you pressed your nose into the dusty glass.

The front door was rusted with disuse, the knobs stuck in place with a grotty chain and padlock, untouched for a long time. You had already confirmed that the building was in use previously, back in that meeting room, so it wasn’t abandoned per se. The fact that nobody used the front door rubbed you the wrong way. Like they wanted others to believe the building was ditched, left to decompose.

To divert attention, you guessed. They didn’t want people stumbling inside, finding their secrets. Made it look as unappealing to explore as possible. Rank and spoiled, milk left to ferment on a carpet.

Weapons trafficking was unlikely. in your opinion. The location was far from ideal, surveillance present, albeit foggy and shitty. It’d be too difficult to carry around knives or guns, especially in England. Sutton wasn’t particularly isolated, either, so they’d be limited to working at night exclusively at best. Drugs was the most likely answer, yet the discomfort bubbling in your gut urged you to believe otherwise. You just couldn’t put your damn finger on the cause.

“Suspect located,” came Ghost’s deep gravel through your earpiece. “Black and red windcheater, blond hair, heading to the west alleyway.”

You skimmed west, darting your eyes around until they landed on a man befitting Ghost’s description. And, Jesus, how he managed to make out any details whatsoever on those damn cameras, let alone accurate details, was absolutely astonishing. Impressive as hell.

“Got it,” you confirmed, suppressing a wolf whistle. Not the time.

You had to move quickly.

Gaz took the lead, the pair of you rising from the bench and making your way to the crosswalk. Acting as a couple was shockingly easy – his hand slipped into yours and, for a sliver of a second, a thought crossed your mind at how right it felt. How his fingers slotted between yours, interlocking, his palms absurdly warm. Callused and tender all the same.

It’s clear he tended to his skin, the pads of his digits worn from years of hard work under a heavy banner, yet the topside was silky, the prominent knuckles you subconsciously kneaded moisturized and hydrated.

His hand felt nice to hold.

As quickly as the analysis came, it left, your job requiring your full concentration.

Gaz playing the part of doting boyfriend served two purposes: first, it lowered suspicions. A pair on a walk, going together through a dodgy part of town hand-in-hand to keep each other safe. Second, it allowed you to focus on your phone and update Jumping Spider’s code with new information, freeing you from paying attention to where you were going.

He made easy small talk, chatting to fill the void. Again, reducing suspicion.

“Where do you want to go for dinner, love?”

You bit into your tongue, mentally pinning down the wings of butterflies that threatened to escape through your teeth. It never did you any good to become flustered, especially not when you knew three other men were listening in on your conversation.

“I liked that place on Langley.”

“Ah, they have good wine, yeah?”

You wetted your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, your thumb swiping hurriedly across your screen. Almost done. “I thought so. The sweet one?”

“Yeah, I liked it, too,” he agreed, nearing the alley. From the corner of your eye, you could see the lit cherry of a cigarette in the shadows to your left. His hand squeezed yours once, twice, thrice–

On cue, you saved the program at the same time as he withdrew his free hand from his pocket, dropping the star of the show by his shoe. Neither of you skipped a step, neither of you reacted to the object, nor lost pace. You kept walking and chatting away about meaningless normalcy, the picture of happy domesticity.

You turned the corner, and came to a stop.

A flurry of vigor tingled in your joints, your heart’s momentum increasing by the second. The knowledge that you were being useful, that you were helping, stuffed you like honeyed candy. Jumping Spider had a purpose to play in all this, a big contribution to provide.

You were the one that created it, and you were confident in your skills, but there was a lingering sense of nervousness. This was your first mission with the 141, you had to make a good impression, and fucking up said first mission would probably ruin that.

Checking the program confirmed JS had activated cleanly and was on the move, making a beeline for its goal on scuttling little legs.

“Jumping Spider released,” you mumbled into your comms. “Locating target now.”

“Copy,” Price’s voice fizzled. “Retreat when it’s found its mark.”

“Understood.”

“Oooh, Gaz an’ Maven, sittin’ in a tree, K-I– agh! Ghost!”

“Shut it, you fucken muppet.”

You and Garrick smiled at one another, and he shook his head at Johnny’s antics.

Catching a tidbit of downtime, you leaned against the glass of a shop behind you and minded Jumping Spider’s program. Code rushed through, updated coordinates, environmental information, performance notes. You held your breath, waiting for Spider to latch onto its target–

Attachment confirmed. Ceasing movement. Engaging smooth tracking.

“Sweet,” you giggled.

He peered over your shoulder. “Jumping Spider got him?”

“Yep, now we can–”

Error: unstable connection.

Fuck. That wasn’t good. Confused, your brow furrowed, and you tapped at the cycle icon at the top, attempting to refresh the program. It could have gotten overloaded with information, not wholly unusual.

Connection reestablished.

Ah, see? All good–

Error: unstable connection.

You tsked, irate. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“There’s something blocking Spider inside, it’s struggling to maintain a connection with me.”

“What do you think it is?”

Your molars pressed together. The walls could interrupt the signal, but you had your doubts. Your Spider hadn’t gotten far, and you weren’t tracking it via satellite. The tiny thing hardly emitted any signals, its information shared directly to your phone, it shouldn’t be able to trip any sensors. No, this was different.

The illusion of emptiness, preventing proper transference, you didn’t know what they were doing in there, but you didn’t fucking like it.

One last ditch effort to reconnect with Spider proved fruitless, so you tucked your phone away. “Something’s wrong, Gaz.”

He stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Struggling to translate the alarms in your head into words, you rolled your hand uselessly. “Just– just that they’re doing more than drug or weapon trafficking. Dealers aren’t this high-strung about security, not in Sutton.”

To your relief, Gaz didn’t question your instincts. In both your occupations, intuition could easily spell life or death, were you to heed or ignore it.

Instead, he tapped into his radio. “Heard that, Cap?”

“Affirmative.”

“What should we do now?”

There was a brief silence following his question. Price thought on the matter, then passed on his new command.

“Infiltrate the building,” he said. “Go slowly, be careful. If something goes wrong, get out and repo.”

“Yes, sir,” you and Kyle responded simultaneously.

You hung around the corner until Ghost guaranteed the coast was clear. The man who had entered the building hadn’t reemerged, and there wasn’t any evidence he was still in the alley. Still, you were cautious as you approached, peeking into it.

On the ground laid a fresh cigarette, recently stomped out. Menthol and tobacco lingered in the air, indicating the smoker had left minutes prior to your arrival.

You swiped your hand at Gaz, motioning him in. You slunk in, cool shadows enveloping you from head to toe. The entrance, positioned near the end of the narrow space, was closed. An attempted twist of the handle proved it was sealed, too.

The lock was electronic, a pricey model that required a pin, print scan, and chip to be opened.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out beside you. “They really don’t want people getting in, huh?”

“Locked?” Price queried

“Immensely,” Gaz confirmed. “Latest LockBro system. Pin, print, chip.”

Soap grunted. “Steamin’ Jesus. Think the lass is right, doesn’t smell like drugs ta me.”

“Maybe, they’re particularly paranoid?” You knew it’d be stupid to buy that. Feebly offered it, anyway.

“Nah,” Ghost chimed in. “Drug dealers are more willing to throw one another under the bus sooner than they’d shill out coin for pricey security.”

“Well, only leaves one choice. Can you open it?” Gaz whispered beside you.

You grunted, examining it methodically. “Think so. Just gimme…a sec…”

If specializing in electronics taught you anything, even the most secure lock could be cracked. They had pros and cons over traditional, old-timey, mechanical locks. Yes, they were more invulnerable to the general populace, requiring some knowledge of computer tech to break into, but they were vulnerable to power fluctuations.

LockBrother™, like any company, advertised that their product was immune to such debilities. In case of a blackout, the gadget operated on backup batteries. In case those died, the failsafe would trigger, and the bolt would remain in a fastened position until it could be undone and reset manually by a technician. All you heard was that it could be opened manually.

Opening a pocket on your backside, you pulled out a flathead screwdriver and approached the door. A brief search of the smooth surface later, you found a ridge under the compact monitor. Needing nothing more, you notched the edge of the screwdriver there, inhaled, then smashed your knee into the bottom of the tool.

The monitor ripped up, and you snatched it before it could hit anything and make any noise. Tucking away the tool and tossing the useless plastic elsewhere, you scrutinized the mess of wires, sensors, and circuits.

Below the surface of elaborately decorated marketing, the design was actually quite simple.

You identified two wires, having seen this kind of contraption already in earlier models. One detected whether or not correct information was inputted and controlled the bolt, and the other existed to detect power supply. A deadman’s switch, essentially. Power goes out, and that wire sends a signal to prevent the bolt from coming loose.

In an odd sort of way, it reminded you of bird feet. Talons, in their relaxed state, were closed. Birds need to actively flex their muscles for their toes to spread. Same concept. Kind of.

Not really, but who cares?

What was important now was that you disabled the system entirely. The two wires worked in tandem, one didn’t function without the other. Whichever you cut first would still activate the deadman’s switch. So, you simply had to cut them at the same time.

From another pocket, you pulled out a pair of cuticle nippers. Very handy tool, you found. It made light work of stripping thin cables, and you preferred it over a scalpel in many cases, as you felt you had more stability with a second edge to rest your fingers on, and it gave you more control.

Pressing the two wires together, you lined them up carefully between the blades of your nippers and closed the handles, slicing through the lengths with ease. They sparked, fizz, and the connection was severed. The lock clicked, and an experimental push on the handle proved your theory correct, as it opened without issue.

“Amazing,” he breathed. “How’d you learn to do that?”

Can’t tell him, can’t tell him, can’t tell him.

“I worked part-time at a tech shop as a teen,” you said, subtly pocketing the finger scanner you pried out of the apparatus. Maybe, you could find some use for it. “In my free time, I played with the loose electronics they had there.”

“Impressive,” he complimented. If he saw you blush, he was kind enough to not tease you about it.

“Door’s open?” Soap worded aloud.

You nodded, even if he couldn’t see. “Yep.”

“That was quick as shite, Maven. Ye’re a genius, eh?”

“I like electronics, that’s all.”

Your captain cleared his throat. “Less chatter, more work. You have a job to do. Pay attention.”

Kyle rubbed your back comfortingly when you deflated a hint, bringing you back to what was in front of you.

“Got your gun?”

You checked your hip, the holster hidden by your top. To soothe both him and yourself, you unlatched the weapon and took it out, leaving the safety on, and showed him.

His shoulders visibly lowered an inch, and he pulled out his own, a silent promise that he was prepared, too.

Far too used to working alone, you reached to push into the building automatically, prepared to enter, only for a hand to wrap around your wrist, stopped in your tracks. You glanced at him, tensing, expecting him to tell you off. Gaz merely tugged you towards him, stepping forward.

“Let me go first,” he pleaded.

You frowned. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can,” he uttered, heartrendingly earnest. “Let me help.”

Goddamnit. When he gave you that sparkling, pretty look, lashes fluttering, brows curled upward, plush lips pouting, how could you tell him no?

You conceded with a sigh, and he gave you a charming smile. His hand slipped down to your hand, and he lifted it, his lips brushing a featherlight kiss over your knuckles. Then, as if he hadn’t just wooed you like it was the most casual thing in the world, he nudged the door open and snuck inside.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you added another point to the list of Secrets to Keep.

You placed your feet in the same spots he did, creeping inside. Silent as a ghost, you closed the door behind you, plunging the clearance around you in darkness. The tiniest fragments of light managed to slip between the boarded windows, but it wasn’t substantial by any means. Luckily, you thrived in the night – this was hardly any different, trading one twilight for another.

He got low, crouched as he snaked a path through the hollow enclosure. Dust mites danced in the air, swept up by your occupancy. Around you were discarded cardboard boxes, some crushed, or on their sides. Trash crowded most of the ground, old wood planks obscured by loose papers and wrappers of various products. Sheets, tarps, bemired coats and cobwebbed corners.

There were a few counters, all in similar disarray as everything else. At the far wall across from you was a wrought iron staircase, unused janitorial supplies stuffed beneath it. To your immediate right was a closed room, with another situated before the stairs. The only light available came from under it, bleak orange. Distantly, you heard a rattling fan, and guessed it originated from there, too. A bathroom, then.

A sickly sort of stench clung to the walls of the space, thick and laden, like mildew and mold. It seeped into your sinuses, layered itself like a film over your nasopharynx, suffocating and vile. Waste, decay, soiled clothes, ruined people, the miasma hewed like humidity to any exposed skin it could find.

In all honesty, it’d make for a half-decent scary house by the sheer ungodly energy that perturbed you alone.

Anxiety roiled in your gut, reminding you that this went deeper than first thought.

Not weapons, too hard to hide. But, the drugs…

There was no sign of them, either.

The counters were disorderly, yes, but nothing on them indicated any sort of drug manufacturing and trading. The main room appeared to be a trash deposit, shit thrown in erratically, dropped and forgotten.

A mare’s nest.

Working in tandem, you and Gaz swept the room. Your phone buzzing indicated that it had reconnected with Spider, but you didn’t bother pulling it out to check manually. There wasn’t any point, now. You checked the door with the light, but weren’t able to get it, and you didn’t want to force it and risk drawing attention to yourselves.

Having cleared the area, you met back up in the middle, communicating with gestures. With nothing to go off of in the main room, you motioned towards the stairs. He shook his head in disagreement, suggesting the other door you hadn’t checked.

He was the expert in this particular job, so you agreed, willing to adjust tactics to suit his methods.

As you began creeping towards it, however, you stopped, a glint catching your eye. Gaz said your name mutedly, wondering what the hold up was, but you didn’t react, needing to clarify the source of the spark you saw.

Stretching your neck, you peeked around the edge of the counter, down a hallway you hadn’t caught earlier, spotting cages and–

You felt your heart drop.

People.

There were fucking people in those cages. Not the shitstains you were after, no, these were civilians. Folks nabbed off the streets, left in filthy rags, whatever they were last wearing when they were taken.

They huddled towards the backs of their prisons, stacked atop each other like crates at a pound. Small, too small, some barely had any room to sit with their knees to their chests, nevermind laying down or standing at all. The bars were too close together to pass more than the width of an arm through, and each was shackled with an immensely thick padlock.

Like cattle. Mutts, strays to be sold off to the highest bidder.

The worse-off ones were at the bottom row, where some cages were stuffed with two people, the cramped space making it difficult to breathe.

“Fuck– fuck,” you hissed, feeling your lungs twist and churn in your chest.

“What’s going on, Maven?” Price demanded.

“They’re fucking trafficking people,” you informed your captain. Gaz shifted near you, his breath hitching minutely.

“Say again?”

“It’s not drugs or weapons, it’s people. Civvies.”

“Shit– what do you see?”

Gritting your teeth, you craned your neck and counted however many cages you could see past the open entrance. “Fourteen cages at least, I think, mostly girls. It’s dark, hard to see. A few have two people in them. Fuck me.”

“Copy. Any hostiles?”

“None that we can see, sir,” Gaz responded.

“Good. Proceed carefully, check on the prisoners. Try not to alert hostiles. If you’re forced to engage, I don’t want any of them dead. Incapacitate only.”

Moving on your toes, you rushed into the room containing the cages, and nearly slammed a hand over your mouth and nose.

A heavy atmosphere of anguish and distress smashed into you like a palisade, splinters lodging in your clothes. It smelled horrid, the death of hope and faith. Waste smeared across the floors of the cages, uncleaned, the poor beings occupying them left to suffer. Unkempt, foul, rejected, forsaken.

Gaz had a similar response as you, but held it together commendably.

Quickly, you checked on each person trapped, ensuring they were all breathing. Few made any response, barely reacting to your exams. Those that weren’t unconscious flinched, or were completely despondent, their eyes glassy as they stared past you, unseeing. None begged, none pleaded. Not one reached towards you through the bars, asking you to save them. For all they knew, you might have been someone else there to torment them the same way their kidnappers had.

You left them be, for now.

A shot of remorse shocked your nerves when the last girl you attended to was completely still, her chest neither rising nor falling. You grasped her wrist, pressing three fingers to her cold and clammy skin, where you held them.

One, two, five, fifteen seconds passed. No heartbeat.

Grief coiled in your lungs, but you forced yourself to stand and retreat, reporting one of the captives as deceased.

You wondered what her name was. If anybody was looking for her, missing her. If her face had been put up on screens in city center, if she’d been taken from a warm bed. Or, maybe, she had been snatched off the streets, ripped from one state of despair and thrown into another. Did she have a mother, a father? Family, bound either by blood or hardship? Brothers and sisters? A lover or two? Anybody?

Squeezing your eyes shut briefly, you worked the muscle in your jaw, grounding yourself.

There was no time to entertain those thoughts, not right now. After you finished the job, you could, but you had work to do.

The space was tight, mostly taken up by the cages. There was an ajar supply closet, a table piled with scraps, bottles of fluids, and a loose syringe, hypodermic needle attached to its tip. The sight of it made you cringe, and you quickly turned your gaze elsewhere.

Puzzlingly, on the ground, there was a flush latch. You knelt down, hooking your fingers into the ring, and yanked it upwards.

A set of steep steps revealed themselves to you, concrete platforms that led into a lit tunnel. It went fairly deep, and ducking your head down showed that it widened past the initial drop. And, suddenly, it all made sense.

This was where they’d come and go, why the structure seemed abandoned from the outside, the front door entirely unused, why JS struggled to maintain a stable link. This was why catching them on the surveillance cameras was more a stroke of luck, chance times when they’d use the side entrance as opposed to this secret one. Telling where it went, or how far the tunnel was dug out, was impossible for you to discern from this position.

You’d have to go down.

“Gaz, look at this,” you called over, turning over your shoulder. He came to you immediately, his expression grim, caught in the dim glow coming from below.

His lips flattened into a frown, taut, his temple fluttering.

No words needed to be exchanged for a mutual decision to be made.

“Price, we found a tunnel in the room with the cages. Goes down about five meters. We’re going in.”

“Be careful.”

As he did previously, he went in first, his thumb switching his gun’s safety off as he held it in both hands. You did the same, heading down when he reached the bottom, decidedly closing the hatch. If any other trafficker came in, you didn’t want them suspecting your existence and ruining the mission by catching you off guard.

The end of the tunnel laid beyond view, either too far or around a bend. Wherever it went, you had to go, had to unravel this. Pull the yarn’s end, make it fall apart at the core and let the rest collapse in on itself.

Time slowed to a painful crawl, right foot, left foot, over and over. Sconces that pointed upwards gave no indication of movement, no hint as to how far you’d gone. A lifetime and a half, surely, had gone by in the blink of an eye, slow as cold honey, quick as a bee – then, there was yelling.

“Get the fuck up!”

“Ugh, don’t you fuckin’ dare puke. You’re disgusting.”

A thump, a groan.

“Hurry up! We don’t have all fuckin’ day. Client’s not a patient man.”

You shared a look with Gaz, who counted down with his fingers. Three, two, one.

You both darted forward, guns raised as you chased the source of the noise through the curving tunnel.

Some fifty feet ahead of you, a duo of men stood, a girl held up by her elbows between them. Her wrists were bound behind her back by cable ties that were tightened too much, pale fingers dipped in washes of violet watercolor, cyanosis eating at blood cells. Her head hung low, knees struggling to hold up her weight, muscles weakened by malnutrition and atrophy.

“Freeze!” Gaz shouted, taking aim. “Let go of the girl.”

Oh, they let her go alright, the poor thing dropping like stones as soon as her supports abandoned her. Her knees hit the ground first, and you winced, silently grateful that she didn’t fall further and remained upright.

The men, however, didn’t flee like you expected, your body prepared to give chase.

They had brought their own guns.

Given no more than a second to react before they began shooting, you and Gaz scattered away from each other, and fired back. Price’s voice rang in the back of your head, repeated orders to incapacitate, do not kill. Incapacitate, do not kill. Incapacitate, do not kill.

Yes, you’d handled guns before, though you preferred not to. Being up close to someone was where you worked best, when you could sneak near them and wrap a cord around their throat, or stick a poison-coated needle into their flesh. Ranged? Not your strong suit.

So, you figured you were deserving of a little self-praise when you’d managed to shoot the pistol right out of one of the men’s hands, and followed it up with a shot to his kneecap to immobilize him.

Gaz took advantage of his target’s distraction when yours cried out in pain. The guy’s head turned toward his colleague, and Gaz launched himself at him. There was a short skirmish, strained grunts and fists landing, but it wasn’t even a close fight. Gaz wrangled the gun away and threw it aside, far out of reach, then flipped the man onto his front and wrestled his wrists onto his spine, clutched tight.

It happened to be the guy Ghost had spotted on cams, while yours wasn’t somebody you recognized off the top of your head. Brunet, tan trench coat, probably on the suspect board. He writhed on the floor, clutching his knee as he groaned and bayed like a fucking horse. Too distracted to try anything stupid, especially with his gun out of commission.

You panted, swallowing down the energy that vibrated in your fingers. Suddenly remembering where you were, you ran to the girl, sinking down beside her. You plucked your knife out of its sheath on your belt and wedged the tip under the black plastic holding her wrists together. She whimpered as you twisted it, sharp edge to the tie, to cut through it, and you hushed apologies to her.

The plastic snapped, and she slumped. You caught her, pulling her closer to your body, your warmth, your protection. Your hands massaged over hers, rubbing them to restore circulation to them.

“It’s okay, we’re here to help,” you promised, taking in her attire. A thin shirt and shorts, hanging loosely on her figure. Your heart ached at the thought of her stuck in this attire, freezing in the cold nights that were England, no way to cover herself, no blanket to hide under.

Weakly, she raised her head, looking up at you with hollow, matte pupils.

“...Help?” Broken, soft, lost, unsure.

You nodded, gutted. “Yes. My partners and I, we’ll get you out of here. You and all the others, okay?”

Her chapped and split lips parted, closed, and parted again, barely shaping the words she choked out. “Thank you…”

Shuddering, you pulled her into your arms, letting her rest her feeble weight on you. Had you been slower by a few minutes, who knows where she could have ended up; who could have hurt her further, what they would have done to her.

“How copy?” Price interrupted your spiraling mind.

Gaz responded. “Brief firefight, two enemies down and restrained, none killed. One captive down in the tunnel with us. Maven–?”

You picked up his prompting, tightening your arms around the girl. “She’s thin and wounded, but alive and responsive.”

“Copy. I’ve contacted Laswell. Soap and Ghost are about to raid, ETA one minute.”

You breathed out in relief.

Gaz squatted next to you, his hand perching on your shoulder empathetically. You realized that he worked fast, having fettered the men by their wrists, face-down, using cable ties he must have found on their persons.

“Solid?” He asked. “You’re not broken?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine. You?”

His lips curled up slightly. “I’m alright, love. Don’t worry about me.”

Now, energy winding down, you allowed yourself to relax, knowing you had help on the way. Ghost was the one that came to fetch you and Gaz, those two handling one man each to drag (quite unkindly) back to the surface, and you aided the girl. You kept your pace slow for her, supporting most of her effete body that, understandably, lacked the vitality needed to carry her.

By the time you had gotten back up the stairs and into the building, it was swarming with enforcement. The cages were being opened, prisoners taken out of them as they went, handed off to paramedics.

An EMT approached you, offering to take the woman you held. You agreed, and carefully passed her to them, reassuring her that she was going to be taken care of. Hands freed, you stepped out onto the street through the busted-open front door, getting out of police and army men doing their jobs.

Spare authorities helped in drawing out the poor souls that had been trapped in that building for who knows how long towards ambulances, chatting in low tones to traumatized minds that were abstracted and unhearing, miles away. A girl passed you, wrapped in a thermal blanket with a dazed expression painted across her dirty features. She limped after a cop, and your gaze flickered down to her ankle.

Wires, metal, a clicking, broken piston shifting inside the exposed joint. Gears fluctuated, damaged from dross, lack of maintenance, and abuse.

A construct.

Defective machinery, her purpose lost, torn away from her very hands by vile men who sought to bring her nothing but suffering for their own delight. The light in her that once made her so terribly human had been smothered, a dichotomy that stood behind a mirror. Clean cheeks stained with grease, muck, and defilement; a circle of her temple missing, revealing the carbon fiber of her outer skull plating.

Salt threatened to flood your waterline. Your fingers twitched, curling into tight fists.

She was saved, but in the end, she’d only be killed – dismantled. She left one hell in exchange for another, one she’d never be able to return from. It wouldn’t matter if you collected all her parts and put her back together, she’d never be the same, never come back.

It curdled in the pit of your stomach, this sense of panic and overwhelming urge to reach out and grasp her, pull her into your embrace, swear that you’d never let anyone hurt her again.

There was this cold dread that poured through your veins, cycling through your soma, settling in the hollows of your bones. A sorrow, too, that tasted of ash and acid. A hurt that laced through your muscles like sinew and protein.

It hurt, because you knew she couldn’t be saved. Not truly. Not the way she deserved.

Whatever choice you made today, there was no winning for her. Taking her, shutting down this trafficking ring, meant she’d be led to a facility to be terminated, have her body separated into parts, dispose of what was useless, reuse and resell what could be beneficial for non-intelligent machinery, electronics, cars. Nothing sentient.

Had you and your team left her, she would have been shipped off to some horrid predator, somebody who wanted to dig their gnarled teeth into the give of her skin, peel it back to see how she was fused together, groan about how she was made for them.

After all, constructs were created in the image of man, weren’t they?

Sensing you, her head lifted, and for one fragile, crystalline moment, your eyes met, and understanding rippled between you.

It was in times like these that you wished you could build a sanctuary for constructs, a place where they’d be safe from the ruthless hands that wished to rip them apart like drumsticks from a baked chicken, their insides plucked with slippery, oily hands. You wished you could create for them a home, a utopia, where all would be accepted, never at risk of having to be killed for the crime of living by the same ones who made them.

Unfortunately, it simply wasn’t possible, no matter how much you wished and daydreamed of it.

Price came to stand by you, the heady scent of tobacco and sweat clinging to his person. You didn’t turn to face him, said not a word, and neither did he, both of you watching as the girl was taken to her execution under the guise of protection and justice.

Delicately, he touched your lower back, a silent directive, telling you that it was time to leave.

He said nothing about the tear that slipped down your cheek, and you said nothing about the way his hands shook.

█h█t is ████ p█rpo██?

██ ████ ███. ██ ████ ███. ██ █████ ███.

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cram-cram · 9 months ago

Text

Bonjour everyone

So, I am here today to yap about ZZZ because Y E S

I made two tier lists and I shall comment on them because why not

This post will be for the first tier list, which is regarding playstyle, while the other post will be for companion quests. So let's get to it!

So, you could say I like fast playstyles but then BOOM, Anton (he doesn't have a fast playstyle per say, but it is very fun still). So, let's tacke each tier

Fun playstyle, feels great and satisfying to play

For this tier, we have:

→ Billy - fast playstyle leaning playstyle with certain gimmicks that I find super fun. His signature W-Engine, in my opinion, enhances his playstyle by incentivating the player to do his beyblade dash attack more often (the Engine's passive buffs attack for 10 seconds after doing a dash or basic attack). His skill does a HUGE ammount of damage and, when put in a team he has resonance with, using his skill before the burst will buff the burst's damage (and if you burst AFTER a chain attack, the burst ALSO gets buffed!). So, in general, really fun to play! Love dodging with him by just... Pressing a movement key while he's in his crouched state (yes you can do that), it makes me feel like a pro (it fails 90% of the time). Fun fact! Billy is one of the fastest running units in the game after Lycaon and Ellen I believe! So ye, love my lil' android man, he's amazing

→ Ellen - Another one with a fast leaning playstyle!(Did you notice I have a preferred gameplay type?) But her playstyle is SUPER fun, albeit I'm still fetching her gimmick. The fact that you should dodge, continue sprinting, and THEN attack instead of doing a normal dodge counter is a bit tricky, but as you play her more, you manage to get used to it. Ellen's playstyle is very forward imo, which isn't a bad thing at all. Enter stalk mode, hold attack to charge the scissors, let go, get basic attack stacks, basic attack, repeat. While I don't have her signature (didn't have enough time to fetch it, augh) the Engine I use, starlight knight, is very good, since it buffs dash attacks and basic attacks as well (made for her and Billy eh?). I also love her burst animation and I usually play her with Lucy and Soukaku for big pp damage. Highly recommend getting her on her rerun if you missed her on her banner!

→ Anton - BABYGIRL I LOVE YOUU! Anyways, his playstyle was VERY confusing at first, but you get the hang of it rather easily. His main souce of damage comes from his burst mode (not actual burst, but skill activation). Once in that mode, he will do constant electric damage, but you need to pay attention to his energy meter because, once it reaches zero, you're back to dealing physical damage. While off field, with his resonance passive activated, Anton will regain energy. Other ways to regain energy WHILE in burst mode is to assist with him. As soon as you hear the attack noise + see the glow, press space and his assist counter will refill part of his energy meter! His actual burst is also SUPER satisfying to use, doing big damage in an aoe. I was using the summer event weapon on him before getting his signature and GYATT he was doing some VERY good damage (he's not even properly built as of rn). Tldr, Anton, while having a playstyle that requires a bit of time to do damage, is very rewarding when the big pp damage mode is on.

→ Qingyi - Soldier 11 I hate you for making me lose my 50/50 to you... QINGYI IS SO FUN TO PLAY! Genuinely speaking, her playstyle is SO fun, love me some stun units (I don't have any stun units that I use, sorry Anby). Qignyi also has a fast and to the point playstyle. Just keep pressing basic attack until she enters tazer mode and then hold the button once the little gold bar beneath her energy is gold. Big pp dmg and the stun is great. I love her dodge counters too (I have only played her on quests and trials, but gosh I love playing with her). In general, there's nothing much I have to say about her playstyle, it's direct and rather simple. Just zap ppl, fill up gold bar, hold attack button, do damage. Great playstyle, I will get her on her rerun.

→ Caesar - FUN SHIELDER LET'S GOOOO. Fast playstyle on the basic attacks but that is not her purpose (you could absolutely play her as a dps tho). Her shield build off of her impact, which I found very interesting and fun! To play her, you just counter an incoming attack with her skill (shield) and press it again. Bam, shield is on, time to swap out! However, I recommend you keep her on field a bit longer and do a held attack before leaving. Why? Well, her held attack, the spinning shields, gather small-medium enemies into a horde, making it easier to attack them in one go! She's great in teams that have characters that can do aoe dmg, so I highly recommend her for literally ANY team that has a physical or sons of callydon character (such as Piper, Lucy, Corin, Jane or even Billy). One negative point tho, there are no A rank or B rank Defence W-Engines with an Impact substat, the only one is her signature. So, if you want the W-Engine buff, I highly recommend getting her signature, unless ZZZ plans on launching another A rank defence engine with impact substat (which I find unlikely).

→ Piper - *signs the entirety of the beyblade opening*. But yeah, that's her gameplay, LMAO. Albeit being ok the slower playstyle side, she is still very fun to play. You can spam her basic attack and use the section in which she jumps to avoid enemy attacks or ya can just, y'know, dodge them. Since she's an anomaly character, her dmg lies in anomaly buildups and procs. Do three of her basic attacks and press her skill (when glowing) and she will enter her fast spinning mode faster, acquiring stacks. Those stacks, when her resonance passive is on, buff her and her teammates' anomaly dmg when doing the physical anomaly reactions. She's great for solos (I solo'd the Dead End Butcher on Hollow Zero with her but hey, it's Hollow Zero lol) and just fun to play in general. Love spinning with her and hearing the SHING sound when she procs and Assault reaction.

→ Grace - ELECTRIC GRENADEEEE. Also fast style gameplay, just normal attack with her, wait for her bombs to charge up beneath her energy meter, wait for glowing skill, BAM. Swap her out for your electric dps. That's her playstyle frfr, just NA, skill, leave. Albeit being having a rather... Short time on screen, she does HUGE damage with her skill due to being an anomaly character (the ammount of times she got the MVP because of her shock procks are not listed). She's a great Electric character support and is just fun to play in general. Just be aware that she has a rather smoll ammount of hp, she's very frail.

→ Jane - normal attack, charge passion, held to spinn. Essentially piper but normal attack instead of skill. Her Assault procks are great and her dmg is just, MWACK, phenomenal. Fast playstyle with very smooth moves that make even FIGHTING against her difficult. The enemies are legit just... Tanking a thousand blades. Again, albeit being straight to the point, the fact of how fast you hit enemies and the shing sound of the anomaly procks are just prefection, love it, very satisfying to just put the enemies in the Jane blender (she fr blends them up with how fast she attacking, we gonna have enemy smoothie at this point).

Good playstyle, also fun to play

→ Burnice - she also has a very fast paced playstyle but I don't feel the vibes to put her on the tier above. Love that she pirouettes with her flamethrowers and that, to charge her basic attacks (there's a meter beneath her energy meter) you have to press the skill to just burn the enemies with her flamethrowers. Very straightforwards, very fun to play, just doesn't scratch the funky itch for me, but her playstyle is great! Pair her with Caesar and you'll have a great time burning everything to the ground.

→ Nekomata - SHING SHING SHINNG. Fast kitty has the zoomies and she is going to turn you into sashimi. Again, only played her on her quest and on the trials, but her playstyle, while being fast, doesn't hit as much as the others. Love how fast she goes, love how she just slides on the floor while slashing the enemy's kneecaps, but it just doesn't scratch the itch as much as the others... Very good and fun still tho!

→ Rina - press her skill and leave the field. That's it, that's her gameplay. She's mainly here because of how fluid her moves are and how good it feels to use her on the few moments she's on field. Her purpose is solely to buff pierce, but she still manages to have a fun and fluid playstyle while fitting that role perfectly. Wife, please come home, your W-Engine is waiting...

→ Lycaon - while he has fast attacks, that's not how you're supposed to play him. It's a bit tricky and I was considering lowering him a bit, but he's fun still so he stays here. The deal with his playstyle is that you have to hold the attack button so that Lycaon can do ice damage, otherwise is just physical, so keeping the ice combo is a bit complicated (skill issue on my end mb). Still, while being a bit slower due to that little gimmick, he still mantains his fun factor.

→ Lucy - HIT EM WITH THE BAT, GURL. But yeah, her gameplay is also very to the point, wait for her skill to start glowing, hold it, swap out and enjoy the attack buff. You can also build her with crit, since once her resonance passive is active, her little boars will inherit her crit ratio, doing damage alongside your on field dps. So I'd say is worth it to try and build her with a bit of crit, just for her boars' sake. I find it rlly funny that she just... Hits her children boars with the bat, and the hit is SO STRONG that they come back down like a fiery comet. Lucy, hun, pls take better care of your babies-

→ Koleda - NYOOOOOOOOMMMM. GIRLY IS FAST! But like, where the fire dmg at-. Love the weapons, love her hits, love her speed but... She's just a physical character with some fire stuff. I came to that realization while playing with her on a trial on the new event thingy we have at the HIA headquarters. She attacks rlly fast, but 90% of those attacks deal phys dmg instead of fire, with her only fire dmg hits being the end of her basic combo, skill and burst. She's still fun, but the lack of fire saddens me a bit.

→ Corin - smoll delicate gurl with beeg chainsaw, love her. Her playstyle is a bit on the slower side and she thrives in dealing repeated damage due to her chainsaw. Majority of her damage comes from her skill, where she keeps the steadiest grip I've ever seen on her weapon as she walks, hitting whatever the fuck is in her way. While it's fun, yes, it's also a bit... Boring at times, I think? Idk, I loved playing her at the beginning, with her hitting bitches around with her chainsaw, but nowadays, since I don't play her much, whenever I use a trial her I'm like "I mean... It's fun, but she only has like, one attack variation and her dodge attack is kinda... Meh" idk why, but she's still fun

→ Soldier 11 - I hate you, I hate you so much, you have no flavor but... Your playstyle is actually a bit fun. Her fire damage is WAAAY more present and, even tho I don't play her (I refuse to) the few times I had to I had a surprising amount of fun. Like, yes, she's almost a carbon copy of Anby, but she's a faster fire version of Anby, which makes her a bit more satisfying to play in my books (I'm so sorry Anby)

A slightly clunky but still solid playstyle

→ Soukaku - yes, I know she's a support, but her skill is a bit clunky to use imo. You have to use it three times in order to get the max buff she can provide, yet her skill activation time is so slow and leaves her vulnerable to enemy attacks. While yes, she has INSANE interruption res while using her skill, the vulnerability while releasing her ice circles (when she waves her weapon like a tennis racket) is very annoying to me. Like, should I give her more hp? Probably. Will I? No, she gets the attack, deal with it.

→ Nicole - same thing as Soukaku. Her skill is great, love the suck and the aoe, but why is it SO SLOW TO CHARGEEEE. GIRLY POP, YOU'RE VULNERABLE TO THE ENEMY DAMAGE, CHARGE THAT GUN BAG FASTER! As you can see, I don't like slower playstyle characters, it takes a LOT for me to like them. But besides her skill, her playstyle is ok. Don't use her so often besides trials and when the game forces me, but yeah, I'm not rlly... A fan of her playstyle (love her character tho)

Playstyle is clunky

→ Ben - he is, quite literally, the SLOWEST character in the game. His attack animations are great but... I just don't like his playstyle. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Ben as a character, but his playstyle just... Rlly doesn't hit home for me. Yeah, his skill is fun, but I keep forgetting to press it twice instead of only once.

→ Anby - girl... Girl I'm so not counting how many attacks you did to do your electric charged. Like, "once she's done four attacks, hold the attack button to-" BITCH YOU THINK I COUNT? Like, I understand if you love Anby, me too! I love her character! But... Why, why do I have to count to properly use her... My brain needs stimuly, not mathematics 😭 I'm so sorry Anby

→ Zhu Yuan - why are you so clunky. I rlly just don't like her playstyle, it feels so... Clunky and choppy and NOT FUN to me. I completely understand if you like her playstyle, that's great, but I just rlly can't bring myself to enjoy it. When I tested her I already felt soooo icky, she felt so choppy and rigid to play like, why... I know she's a cop and her moves are precise, but Qignyi, who's also a cop, plays smoother than her imo

Playstyle feels stiff and non enjoyable

→ Seth - Seth... Seth my love... I am so sorry... I rly don't like his playstyle. His dash attack? Confusing. His skill? Takes SO LONG to charge and also leaves him vulnerable to damage. And his normal attacks are like... Ok-ish? But he feels so stiff and clunky and I just can't enjoy myself while playing him... I'm so sorry Seth, but your playstyle, in my humble opinion, is shit. Not for me, 0/10, please never force me to use you again.

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mayhemstories · 4 months ago

Text

Prototype: Love - Chapter 1 "First Impressions - 1.1"

check it out on ao3 here! // find the chapter index here

"You are a detective from New York who gets transferred to Detroit during the android uprisings to work on the deviant task force with Connor and Hank. Connor is… Connor. Quickly, you realise that situation is much more complicated than you had imagined. How will your difficult history with androids influence your ability to work on the case? And what about the growing feelings between you and the android sent by CyberLife?" part one: i have only known you since Monday //

words: 2,969 / chapters: 1/? / audience: mature

-- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ --

MONDAY, 8th of November 2038, 1:58PM

When the screens switched off, that was very annoying to you personally. You were standing at the airport, trying to find out what baggage claim you had to go to - and in the exact moment you found your flight and your eyes wandered to the side looking for the band number, the screens switched to black. And then to an android face.

At first, you assumed this was some kind of airport-wide announcement. Detroit was full of working androids after all - the cabin crew on your flight had been composed of androids, your passport had been checked by androids, and you had seen several android staff walk around the airport. He even wore the same uniform as some of the android maintenance staff.

Then he started talking.

“You created machines in your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own…”

Damn. That didn’t sound like an airport announcement. Maybe a clever new android marketing trick?

“But something changed and we opened our eyes. We are no longer machines, we are a new intelligent species, and the time has come for you to accept who we really are.”

If that was marketing, it wasn’t very good. Surely no one would seriously consider buying an android if they were their own intelligent species?

“Therefore, we ask that you grant us the rights that we’re entitled to.”

What? That definitely did not sound like marketing.

You heard a murmur go through the crowd around you. You looked around to find some tense faces, some curious faces, some intrigued faces and even some outright mad faces - but most people just looked mildly annoyed at the inconvenience. What a summary of the human condition.

You could relate though - even though your flight was comparatively short, you couldn’t wait to get out of here already. And that android’s face was still in the very spot that your precious baggage claim info should be in.

You looked back from the crowd to the screen where the android was currently saying something about wanting to own private property.

So what is this, if not a marketing trick?

You had, of course, heard that there were some rare occurrences of androids getting bugged out and going crazy. It wasn’t a surprise - technology developed glitches and faults all the time. It would be silly to think androids could be an exception. But this android looked nothing like what you had been told to expect from the so-called “Deviants”. Bugs and glitches usually led to unpredictable, random behaviour - you had expected erratic machines, moving in jagged ways, slurring their words, blabbering incoherently.

This android seemed perfectly sane.

“This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.“

The screen faded to black before flickering back to the regular airport info screen.

The waiting area erupted in noise and you realised everyone had gone quiet when the android was speaking. And now everyone was voicing their worries at the same time. In the mix of shouts and confusion you pushed past the masses, having finally found the conveyor belt you needed to go to.

What the hell was that?

—

You had just grabbed your last piece of luggage when your phone rang. You almost rejected the call automatically, expecting it to be from a family member asking how your flight was, when you noticed that it came from an unknown number. With a Detroit area code. Shit.

Who knew your number in Detroit? Other than your landlord and your employer… nobody so far. So either there was an issue with your job or your apartment - both options were not great. Hesitantly you picked up and introduced yourself. A man replied.

“Captain Fowler here. I’m calling on behalf of the DPD”

So it was your job. Thank god you still had a bed to sleep in… now hopefully you’d still be able to pay your rent.

“How can I help you, Captain?” you asked.

“Kid, we kind of have a situation on our hands. An all hands on deck kind of situation. I’m sure you noticed it by now if you’re anywhere with a screen nearby…”

Thank god. At least he wasn’t firing you before you even started. And it wasn’t difficult to guess what he was talking about.

“The android transmission?” you asked.

“Yes. Those damn androids on every screen in the city… Now, I know we told you your first shift doesn’t start until today’s night shift, but is there any way you could come in early?”

You silently cursed yourself for your decision to fly in on your literal first day of work - then again, it had seemed like a good idea to land at 1PM when work wouldn’t start till 9PM. At least, until duty decided to call early.

“I’m at the airport right now, Captain. Where do you need me?”

“Do you know where Stratford Tower is?”

You thought quickly. You didn’t remember much from your time in Detroit, and it had been a while since you last stepped foot in the city. But you remembered enough.

“I can take a taxi and be there in 30 minutes.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I was you, kid… the city is in turmoil. Traffic is hell. If you’re at the airport, it’ll take you at least an hour to get here with the state the city is in. But we need everyone we can get. Come in anyway.”

“Yes, Captain”

The line beeped and the call ended.

You sighed as your plans to enjoy a relaxing afternoon in your brand new apartment before heading to a quiet night shift evaporated before your eyes. You grabbed your luggage and started walking towards the taxi stand before coming to a sudden standstill and slowly looking down at your luggage again. Shit. In your haste of promising Fowler your help with the android situation, you had forgotten all about the suitcase you still had with you.

Where on earth were you gonna put that?

—

When you exited the taxi over an hour later, you still had your suitcase with you.

Downtown Detroit managed to look quite beautiful despite all the tense faces, a thick fog giving it an almost mystical appearance. Your driver handed you your suitcase from his trunk and looked back and forth between the Police-Do-Not-Cross bands and you amusedly. “Are you trying to move into a crime scene?”

You shook your head and smiled. “When duty calls, you drop everything and rush to its side. Even if you just got off a flight…”

You tipped him and thanked him for the ride, then turned your attention towards the tower. What a way to start a new job.

You walked up to the yellow bands and just as you went to cross them, an android stopped you.

“No civilians past this line.” it said, reaching out an arm towards you.

“Oh no”, you replied, “I’m a detective.”

You moved to walk past it, but it stopped you again.

“Facial recognition failed. Please provide badge.”

You sighed. “It’s complicated. I don’t have a badge yet. I just started working - in a couple hours actually. Can’t I talk to a human or something?”

The android stared at you, the LED on its temple switching from blue to yellow.

“Request confirmed. Calling officer now.”

Then it looked away from you, like its job was done.

Somewhere behind it a police officer looked up and at you. You waved awkwardly, immediately cursing yourself for it, but it worked. He came up to the police line, recognition spreading across his face when he approached.

“You must be our newest addition!”, he smiled.

“Yeah, and I think I failed the captcha.”, you laughed back, pointing at the android and adding your name.

He nodded. “I’m Officer Chris Miller. Fowler told me all about you. Come on in.”

This time the android made no attempt to stop you. Apparently Officer Miller’s permission was good enough for it.

As you walked in, your suitcase in tow, Chris gave you an amused frown. “You brought a suitcase? Are you gonna move into the tower?”

You smiled again, slightly more pained this time. “No, I just came from the airport. I didn’t know where else to put it.”

Chris seemed to think about that for a second, then accepted it with a shrug. “You know what? Even if you had been trying to move in, it wouldn’t be the craziest thing that happened in this city today.”

He gestured for you to follow him towards the tower and into the elevator, as he explained what the police had found for now - which wasn’t a lot. It seemed the androids had done their homework.

“Anyway”, he concluded his briefing when you two stepped out the elevator. “Fowler explained your… situation to me. You’ll get a special briefing with him later today, but for now we just need plain old detective skills. You’ll be working with Miles.”

With a wave he got the attention of a police officer at the end of the corridor and motioned for him to come over. “Miles, can you explain the data pads to our newcomer here? I don’t believe they use them in New York.”

The officer - Miles - held out his hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Officer Miles Wilson.”

You shook it and introduced yourself.

Chris called the elevator back. “That’s pretty much it from me. I’ll be around if you two need anything.”

The elevator arrived and Chris stepped into it, the doors closing behind him.

“You’re from New York, huh?”, Miles grinned at you. “How is the big apple?”

“It’s big and it stinks.”, you replied. “But home is home.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way about Detroit”, he laughed, handing you a tablet like the one he was holding, “Love to hate the place.”

“This is the data pad?”, you asked, holding up the tablet curiously.

“Exactly.” he replied. “Sponsored by CyberLife - of course - they’re supposed to seamlessly integrate into everyday detective work. You just log in with your badge number and password and register all the evidence you see. Back at the station, the same password will allow you to access an evidence locker with all evidence registered to your current case.”

A million questions flooded through your head - CyberLife servers process all police evidence in all of Detroit? That does not sound like a good idea - but you decided to move them to the back of your mind for now. “I don’t have a badge number yet.”

“Yes, you do. Fowler sent one over for you some five minutes ago.”

He gave you your badge number and let you log in and choose a password on your new data pad.

“Some people love those data pads and some people hate them.” Miles mused as he waited for you to finish the login process. “They fully interface with the police androids - you’ll never have to write a report ever again in your life. We’ve got one colleague - he’s a real delight - who never stops complaining about that. Says they’ll steal all our jobs. Funny, because I’ve never seen him write a report once. Always makes his partners do it. ”

Your data pad pinged a ‘Welcome’ at you and you raised your head. “Some people just love to complain.”

“Amen to that.”

“So, how do these work?”

“Oh, real easy.”, he said, walking towards specks of blue liquid on a wall. “You just place an evidence marker or take a picture like this - then tap on ‘Add Evidence’ here and enter a title and description. Then you tap ‘Finish’ and it’ll be added to the case file.”

He tapped finish and the tablet in your hands dinged almost immediately. You looked at it.

DPD Corporal / Badge#: 19871 → BLUE BLOOD on side wall of corridor.

“Do you wanna try?”

You walked up to the doors and examined them. Interesting. You had expected a blown lock or damaged hinges, but they were perfectly functional. You took your data pad and shot a picture.

DPD Detective / Badge#: 81538 → DOORS UNDAMAGED. Deviants were let in.

You whistled appreciatively. “No more sitting around doing frankly suspicious amounts of paperwork. I know a couple of cops in New York that would kill for this tech.”

“You just wait ‘till you gotta work on a case at the edge of the city where the connectivity is bad. You’ll be wishing for pen and paper before you know it.”

You laughed. “Oh, I remember the struggle. They still haven’t improved the network issues on the outskirts?”

Miles looked at you a little confused.

“I thought you were from New York?”

Damn. You had forgotten that you didn’t want to bring this up.

“I am. I spent a couple years in Detroit… a lifetime ago. It’s a long story. Too long to tell now.” You cleared your throat. “Anyway - let’s check out the broadcasting station?”

You followed Miles into the broadcasting station, where three station androids were currently being led into the kitchen.

“We tried to talk to them about what happened,” Miles explained “but they weren’t very helpful. Apparently they don’t remember a thing from the attack. So we decided to stow them in the kitchen for now.”

They don’t remember? That was weird. You were pretty sure CyberLife androids weren’t designed to be capable of forgetting - unless somebody messed with their memories, of course.

“I’ve been busy looking at the main console for now”, Miles continued to explain. “There is blue blood everywhere and I think the androids interfaced with it somehow, but I can’t make sense of the system logs.”

You smiled and leant over the console. That you could help with.

You had only worked on the console for a minute or two and not found much information, besides an interface history indicating that an unknown PL600 had attempted to operate it two hours ago, when your tablet suddenly started vibrating and ding-ing incessantly. You thought it was a malfunction at first, until you looked at it and realised it was simply blowing up with messages.

RK800 / 313 248 317 - 51 → FRESH BLUE BLOOD from Model: PL-600. Reported missing 2036.16.02.

RK800 / 313 248 317 - 51 → ELEVATOR LOG RESULTS from 1:56PM. Elevator was on floor 31 at time of assault. Assailants entered through emergency exit.

RK800 / 313 248 317 - 51 → TRACES OF HUMAN DNA AT FRONT DESK. Two security guards were working at the time of assault.

RK800 / 313 248 317 - 51 → NO TRACES OF NON-EMPLOYEE DNA ON SITE. Assailants were all androids.

RK800 / 313 248 317 - 51 → CAMERAS ABOVE ENTRANCE. Incident was captured by CCTV.

“There’s no way it’s him.” Miles whispered. You looked up from your own data pad. Miles seemed equally surprised with the sudden influx of messages, though for a different reason.

“Who?” you asked.

“RK800.” Miles pointed at both of your tablets. “He saved my life a few months ago. An android took a little girl hostage; me and my partner were the first responders. I got shot in the arm, I was bleeding out… and then that android appeared. Stopped the bleeding. Stopped it enough so I could be taken to a hospital. Risked his life to do so…”

You looked down at your tablet with newfound respect. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

At that moment, three men walked into the broadcast room. One of them was Chris Miller, who you had met earlier. He was briefing the other two men, who each looked a little out of place in their own ways. One was a dishevelled looking guy in his early fifties who looked annoyed with the world for making him do his job and the other - well, the other was an android. It was difficult to miss with the blue armband and the bright LED on the side of his forehead, though his uniform looked quite different to ones you had seen before.

RK800, you read on his uniform and at the same time you heard Miles whisper a quiet “It’s actually him.”

You let your gaze linger a little longer. He looked like he was intently listening to Chris, but the case updates your tablet was blowing up with gave away that he was performing an in-depth analysis of his surroundings at the same time. His eyes never flickered away from Chris and his older companion for longer than a second, yet each flicker came with at least ten new additions to the case file.

His clothing was unusual in that it didn’t look like a regular android uniform - in fact, it barely looked like an android uniform at all. Most androids wore whole body uniforms but if he just took off the jacket he would look like a regular human, save for the LED. A regular human in jeans and a tie. He wears it well.

You looked back down when Chris waved in your general direction, seemingly explaining something to his two coworkers, deciding you had stared for entirely too long. You were here to work, not to ogle pretty androids. But you couldn’t even focus on the screen in front of you for more than 5 seconds before you heard the group get closer. Chris finished his briefing with “If you want to take a look at the video broadcast by the deviants, it's on that screen over there. I’ll be nearby. If you need anything, just ask.“, and the old man nodded a thank you.

You looked up again. The android was standing right in front of you now.

“Hi, I’m Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.”

-- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ --

author's note: i'm not sure how much of the data pad system was in the actual game, how much i put my twist on it and how much of that i have picked up from fanon/various fan fictions over time. either way, the way connor walks into the room and immediately starts blowing up the tablets with his observations is inspired by a similar thing he does in precursor's deviant behaviour, specifically in their public enemy chapter. chout out to them for the inspiration and a truly marvellous connor/reader fic!

next chapter ->

#dbh connor #fan fiction #may wrote #connor rk800 x reader #prototype love #pl

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