#Light Reed900

[vladlen4i]

Artwork I made for Synthetic Touch, a ReverseAu 9G Zine on Twitter(X) Make sure to check them out!! Also massive thanks to all the amazing modes and supportive team!! Special thanks to @cptjh-arts 💙

[itsstilltru]

shoot

backrooms my beloved

[reedeemable]

Nearly every reed900 fic I’ve read/art I seen always starts out with Nines meeting Gavin, Gavin being his usual self and Nines, even though he will defend himself when needed, will be civil towards Gavin.

I want to see a Nines who meets Gavin and just hates him straight off the bat. Nines knows what he did to Connor, doesn’t like Gavin’s demeanour and even though Nines is partnered with him, he keeps talking to a minimum and will never ask Gavin for anything if he can help it.

That is until he sees Gavin perform an act of kindness or treat something with love and respect and it’s then that Nines realises that there is definitely more to Gavin than meets the eye.

[galactic-luna]

Nothing like reading fanfic by the candle light

[marcusrobertobaq]

When did this whole Gavin x RK900 started? Like, I know was in 2018, but when and how?

[asukaindetroit]

DBH Prompt 002: MacGyver-for-Androids Reed

I fully am onboard with Reed & Kamski as brothers/half-brothers. So, in that light, imagine a world where Reed grew up with this engineering genius dude sharing a room with him. He'd spend years absorbing by proximity all these android tech tips and tricks, and can't be arsed to pay attention to the fancy engineer terms for anything, but he's got a screwy behind-the-scenes take on how android bits work and don't work 'cause he watched all of Eli's engineering failures on the way to success. In this world, Elijah is the industrial engineer who spends countless hours creating elegant manufacturing designs, writing the book from scratch on how androids are Meant to Work(TM) …and Gavin is the plucky grease monkey visual learner who can't name a single part on the diagram, but knows in great detail that if you take this bit here, bang on it three times, and weld it to that other slot upside-down, it'll do the job in a pinch. So, if your android victim is gushing pints of thirium all over the floor, Gavin can somehow manage to grab three paperclips from the desk and the wad of nicotine gum he was chewing, then use the charge from the synthskin compiler to solder some random thirium line shut and reroute the spillage to a side valve that [[insert some bullshit engineering here, they don't say how androids work]]. And voila! Victim is stabilized long enough for formal repairs even though he's being held together with gum and paperclips, Connor and/or Nines and/or an array of PC200/PM700s/android techs are Traumatized for Life(more unnecessary trademarking) by the engineering atrocities they just witnessed, and Gavin is going, "Phcking what!? I just put the doodad in the thingamabob with the sparky bits to make the blue goo stop gooping; you're phcking welcome." Could easily be gen, but honestly this would be hilarious as a Convin or Reed900 so they can tease him mercilessly about "make it stop gooping" every time they get a scrape.

[niktoakanne]

Do you like me?

Fandom: Detroit: become Human

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Nines; Reed900

Tags: Fluff

Summary: “Nines?” Gavin murmured as he snuggled up to his partner. "Do you like me?"

Gavin stumbled sleepily out of the bathroom. He barely remembered to turn off the light before letting the door fall into the lock behind him. 

When the detective reached his bedroom, he couldn't help but smile slightly. He had never expected it, but the shimmering blue light almost seemed to calm him rather than annoy him and prevent him from sleeping, which he had claimed a few years ago.

It was as if he was being silently told that not only was he home, but that he was safe - that they were safe and could concentrate fully on each other for the moment. He would never say it, but he liked it. Quite a bit.

“Nines?” Gavin murmured as he snuggled up to his partner.

“Gavin?” the android replied just as quietly. He immediately put his arm around the detective and pulled him a little closer.

“Do you like me?” Gavin's eyes were closed, but he could well imagine how Nines was looking at him: confused.

“I married you.” There was a note of amusement in that statement, which made Gavin's heart beat a little faster. He sighed softly and nuzzled closer to his partner.

“Okay,” he yawned, noticing how Nines pulled the blanket higher before he started drawing little circles on his back. “I just wanted to make sure.”

Gavin could make out a sound that reminded him of a snort before he was overcome by sleep.

[peskellence]

Rule Of Nines

New Order

Explicit content, Graphic Violence (18+)

Pairing: Reed900

Tags: AU, Multi-Chapter, Lovers to Enemies, Kidnapping, Crime and Violence, Oral, Anal, Dom/ Sub, Toxic Relationships

Previous Chapter

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: In a world where loyalty is currency and compromise is weakness, Gavin Reed, a ruthless mobster, lives by his own rules. When an old enemy resurfaces with a deadly demand, his life is thrown into chaos-as his trusted second-in-command, Nines, is put to the ultimate test of allegiance. Will he stay committed to Gavin, or will the loyal guard dog begin to stray? (Human Mob!AU)

Warnings: Major Character Death (before events of the story), Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Dubcon and Noncon

Tag List: @sweeteatercat @wedonthaveawhile @ladyj-pl @tentoriumcerebelli @negative-citadel @faxaway @moriahadi424 @unicorn4genocide @cptjh-arts

♡If you would like to be added to the tag list for future projects, please let me know♡

ONE YEAR LATER.

There had been a hit on one of the Delray warehouses. All contact had been lost with the guards stationed there, and family members sent to investigate had soon become unreachable too. Following an extended period of silence, Nines took matters into his own hands, proceeding to the location himself.

Upon entering the space, the halogen bulbs of the loading bay failed to activate. It was dark outside, the lack of windows only exacerbating the vacuous black. The scent in the air was oppressively potent, clogging his nostrils. 

Gunpowder and blood.

He already knew what they were about to discover as their torches were raised and the first beam of light sliced through the darkness.

Bodies lay strewn across the ground amidst a series of overturned crates, gutted of their contents. The hollowed-out panels proudly presented, with some of the lesser goods strewn haphazardly on the floor. Fairly innocuous, given the extensive stockpile of munitions that had once been contained.

Either the culprits had left in a hurry, their infiltration discovered sooner than anticipated, or they simply took what they’d wanted—the surplus serving to send a message, a brazen exhibition of dominance. Mockery.  

A disrespect which ignited a flame in his gut as Nines bent down to inspect the bullet punched neatly between the eyes of Meyer. Vacant pits that bore up at the ceiling—ashen and lifeless. 

He stayed there for a moment, running a hand through the crimson streaks blossoming from his wound. Connor stood close, glancing down at the body, watching as mislaid life seeped through the cracks of his brother's fingers. While nothing was said, there was a distinct air of sorrow in the way he bowed his head. A show of silent respect and gratitude. 

Vincenzo was more vocal in his discontent, knocking one of the smaller crates with the end of a steel-capped boot, propelling it across the room. “Christ, what a mess. Who’d you think is behind this shitshow?”

It was difficult to say. Most gangs in Detroit, as well as wider Michigan, knew better than to cross Nines. He ran a decidedly more ruthless operation than Reed, seldom opting to take prisoners. The repercussions of such a stunt were well understood, with even the most hardened criminals knowing better than to provoke him. 

This had to be the work of a fledgling organisation, unaware of their precarious position in the hierarchy. Men filled with bravado and confidence that hadn’t yet been beaten out of them.

Nines would be more than happy to serve them this well-earned lesson in humility.

“He’s still warm,” he said plainly, standing from his crouched position. “Scope the area, I suspect we have company. I'd like to have a discussion with them, should they be man enough to show themselves.”

The words served as instructions to the family but also a pointed appeal to any rodents cowering in the shadows. Goading their movement, on the presumption they would act in the same callous abandon that had been demonstrated up until now. Compromise their own position, saving him the trouble of doing so.

His ploy worked flawlessly—as a sudden, flurried rustling broke through the stillness. 

The attention of all family members was drawn in unison. Arcs of light snapped to the source, casting a spotlight on the nearby debris. Then the noise grew louder, more frantic, signalling the creature was preparing to flee. 

Finally, they broke from their hiding place, a blur of frenetic movement tenuously resembling a person. As they darted through the sparse cover, Vincenzo raised his pistol, bellowing out a sharp deterrent: 

"Don't move, you piece of shit!"

The figure refused to comply.

A warning shot was then fired at the nearby wall, just barely missing their shoulder. As the bullet skimmed past, a curse echoed through the warehouse, and heavy footfalls momentarily faltered. Floyd and Rooney closed in, restraining the stranger before they could regain their bearings.

“Let me go, you fucking assholes !”

Nines felt shards of ice permeate his veins as matched fractals stabbed their way through his eardrums. Because the sound was not strange at all—but cruelly familiar. 

The same harsh, biting octaves that had relentlessly haunted his consciousness. Poisoning his every thought and memory like a fatal disease that refused to be cured.

The cold beneath his skin was quashed as the man came into view, face partially obscured by tousled brown hair—but still recognisable. His stocky body thrashed and writhed against the grip of his captors, confirming to Nines that this was real.

“Well, would you look at that?” As though further confirmation was required, Rooney grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling back and presenting Nines with the snarling visage he had hoped to never see again. “You've got a lotta fucking nerve, Reed, showing yourself ‘round here.”

Really, this could have been predicted. It wasn't so hard to believe that he would have had some involvement in this. 

There had been rumours of his re-emergence. Ascending from the gutters in order to align himself with a group of freshly rallied degenerates. Charged to a particularly repugnant beast whose name Nines made no effort to learn. 

All he knew was he was similar to DeLuca, without any of the duplicitous charm or cunning. Making enemies left, right and centre in a constant bid for more . The sort who indulged in everything to excess—be it food, drugs, or sex. Although he doubted the latter was something claimed freely; more likely bartered for.

Despite this gluttonous sphere of influence, Gavin looked frustratingly good. Healthy. As though he'd been thriving under the new regime. 

He’d gained weight since the last Nines saw him, a far cry from the skeletal bundle left beaten and bloodied in his basement. New clothes, a clean shave, coupled with a potent reek of aftershave that could be smelled from several paces back.

Amidst the rising swell of revulsion, there was curiosity. Whatever Gavin was doing to win the favour of his newfound associates, it was working. This, in turn, raised the question of what that might be. 

What exactly could warrant such preferential treatment, given the man's contemptuous reputation and lack of social delicacy—

“Eat shit and die.” 

As though to illustrate the point, Gavin swung his legs back and began kicking at Rooney's thigh, flailing and screeching like a madman. This was before he abandoned the effort in favour of an even less dignified lunge. Aiming for his forearm, attempting to sink teeth into flesh. 

As his neck arched, veins bulging from the added exertion, the marks became visible. Some were old and fading, while others were tellingly fresh—patterned in red and purple buds all across his skin.

Revelation struck hard, bringing with it a staunch clarity. It seemed the man’s newest keeper was having to do far less bartering than anticipated in satisfying his physical needs. 

As Gavin accepted he would not be able to brute force his way out of the situation, his demeanour shifted. Much less hostile, although it was clearly a farce. He was simply waiting for the right moment, biding time until a distraction emerged. 

“Good to know you dipshits still can't secure a perimeter to save your lives.” He gestured to the pronounced sea of death surrounding him, snickering cruelly. 

His attention then passed the living occupants, disdainful glare returned with matched abhorrence. It was clear just how desperately the men wished to execute their own justice. Extinguish the spite and overconfidence gleaming in his eyes.

Then focus shifted to Connor, and the sickening display intensified. Murky green turned bright in awe like a child opening presents on Christmas morning. The corners of snarling lips were all but pinned to his ears in an uncomfortably large, twisted grin. 

“Holy-fucking-shit...” He whistled softly, speaking in a slow, mocking simper. “Loving the eyepatch, Connie, very stylish.” 

It was Connor who came close to faltering first, succumbing to lethal temptation. His gun was raised, safety removed, as he trained the barrel on the man taunting him. He was unable to hold the weapon still—shaking with anger, compounded by the persistent tremors that already blighted his muscles.

Despite extensive physiotherapy, he had never fully adjusted to his new left-handed grip, nor the loss of his depth perception.

"I guess I have you to thank for it.” The words were seethed, with bitterness spat from every syllable. “Maybe I should return the favour. What do you think?” 

Gavin was less than fazed by the threat. Taut lips puckered into a kiss as he shamelessly fluttered his lashes. A man with his head on the chopping block, all but begging for the blade to drop.

“I'll pass, don't think ‘pirate’ is really my style.” The sarcastic expression morphed into a commiserate pout as he clicked his tongue in feigned sympathy. “I’d say ‘sexy pirate’, but let's be real. You look like someone was roasting a marshmallow and forgot to take it off the fire.” 

Connor tensed, his finger poised on the trigger. Twitching reflexively as it threatened to pull, shattering the man and his self-satisfaction into a thousand scattered pieces. 

Nines shared in this burgeoning bloodlust but understood allowing the man to escape so quickly would be a kindness undeserved. With tenuously held composure, he applied gentle pressure to the barrel of the pistol, angling it down. 

“Let me handle this.”

His brother looked at him, lips parted, poised on the brink of protest. The rest of the family was equally stunned, as Nines seemingly denied his sibling a golden opportunity for vengeance.

What they couldn't see were the wheels of cognition beginning to turn, spurring with them sadistic machinations. Nines offered assurance to Connor in the form of a subtle nod, a gesture he knew would be understood.

A promise that this wasn't the betrayal it appeared to be, and that the situation was under control. 

Gavin would not be permitted to slip through the cracks of his judgment a second time. He would know precisely the damning mistake he'd made in coming here. 

With the siblings distracted, at least as perceptible from the outside, the captive seized his opportunity. Vying for escape a second time, he successfully clamped down onto the taut flex of Rooney's bicep. The man howled in pain, arm reeling back, as Floyd moved instinctively to assist. 

Dropping to the floor, he swiftly clambered to his feet and sprinted across the warehouse. Pressing a hand to an overturned crate and vaulting himself over before emerging between opposing trails of wreckage.

Guns clicked in unison—an orchestra of impatience—until Nines conducted their restraint, raising his hand before bringing it down in a decisive sweep.

“Don't shoot.”

He watched carefully, observing as Gavin darted and weaved through the obstacles, his confidence mounting with each maneuver. What proceeded was inevitable, shameful in its predictability, as he craned back to mock his would-be pursuers, offering a pointed flourish of his middle finger.

Nines could feel the bemused huff pressing at his lips as he subsequently failed to notice the large metal beam entering his path. He struck it cleanly,  tumbling to the side, landing in a heap on the gnarled concrete.

His head ricocheted off the ground, snapping back unnaturally before flopping limply to its original position. The man groaned, lying sprawled and stunned, incapable of movement.

Nines closed in swiftly, making his way through the chicanes of debris until he was standing by his side. Nudging Gavin's limp form with the tip of his shoe, he mimicked the condescension of his previous tuts. 

“You know, you really ought to watch where you’re going.”

He then kicked against the sensitive junction between his shoulder and neck—hard—rendering the already debilitated man entirely tranquilised. 

By the time Gavin woke up, Nines had gone to extensive measures to ensure he wouldn’t run again. Instructing his subordinates to secure their catch with heavy-duty fastenings before transporting him to a secure location outside the city border. 

It was on a need-to-know basis where they were headed, with provisions made to ensure the captive would not secure membership to this club. 

Nines watched with clinical detachment as his senses returned. Draws of breath fluttering against the inside of a burlap sack, mingled with pained murmurs until his body seized and the fluttered movements steadily ramped in pace.

Pulling material into the heaving gape of his mouth, he struggled against the restraints. Thrashing wildly in a vain attempt to rock the chair he’d been anchored to. Cries of protest were muffled but nowhere near enough to prevent a profound auditory assault.

Nines took little note, pacing evenly around the chair—a wolf circling its prey. He relished the signs of struggle, the mounting desperation that emerged from an inability to anticipate strikes.  

Despite all the bravado and rage, every footstep was matched with a flinch. Gavin was scared—a primal fear, an innate drive for self-preservation, that was completely unavoidable.

For Nines, it was euphoric. The sense of control that came from watching him reel and squirm, with little that could be done to mask it. He paused in place, calmly removing the rope that bound the sack to his neck before tugging it away. 

Gavin's jaw was forced closed by the clawing grip of his hand, and he was left with no option but to face his captor. He glared up at him, squinting through the sudden onslaught of light as Nines cooly addressed him:

“It's been a long time.”

A grumbled response rumbled from within clenched bone and muscle, sounding indistinguishably similar to “Not long enough.”

"I was surprised when your bloated corpse didn't wash up in a river somewhere. Your father made more enemies than allies, and you've certainly never been popular.”

His chin was released, as Nines opted instead to burrow fingers into his dress shirt, rumpling the gaudy silk as he yanked him close. In the new proximity, he was rudely accosted by a heavy whiff of aftershave. 

It had been bad enough from a distance, but now, the stench was overwhelming. Nauseatingly rich, clinging to him like a second skin. Powerful citruses mingled with a sickly, cloying musk that Nines struggled to place.

“DeLuca was far from the only person who wanted you dead. I wonder what you did to convince your new ‘friend’ to offer protection.”

He already knew, just wished to hear it from Gavin's mouth. To draw the shameful confession from his lips. Ones that formed a humourless smirk as he sharply replied:

"I'm just that fucking charming.”

The grip on his collar was abandoned, gliding down silky trails of fabric before reaching Gavin's hand. With precision, he seized one of his fingers, twisting back until it was strained at an increasingly grotesque angle. His captive hissed, attempting to pull away but being stopped by the hold of his restraints.

"Tell me, how long did you last on the streets before you got down on your knees for the first man who’d have you?" 

He pulled back, further still, until the tip drew close to the knuckle. "How many times have you let him fuck you? Heaving up and down, grunting and straining to keep it hard as his disgusting body drips with sweat—”

"I don't kiss and tell.”

One of the bones reached the limit of its flexibility, snapping in two. "Was it worth it, Gavin? Losing me? Losing everything?”

The mangled digit twitched and spasmed, then stilled, as did the man attached. He gritted his teeth, clenched so tight they also threatened to shatter before they were bared in another hideous grin. 

He wouldn't be willing to succumb so easily, falter to such paltry torture. Nines would have to escalate matters if he wished to secure the desired result. 

The middle finger was clenched next, a known favourite amongst the appendages. “Answer me.”

"I don't have to answer shit.” Gavin's body shook, a combination of defiant chuckles and involuntary trembles. “What about you, Nines? You found someone else to stick it in, or is it all about the hookers these days?”

It was Nines’ turn to fall silent. His hold on the digit tensed, tightening substantially but failing to execute decisive action. 

“You ever think about me when you're pumping their guts?” Another goading flutter of lashes, as though the mockery wasn't already transparent. "Such a shame you kicked me out; we could have been so beautiful together. Had a spring wedding, settled down in the suburbs, maybe adopted some kids—" 

"Stop talking.”

"Did you ever think about it, huh? Us, having a future together?”

The carefully planned finesse of his torment was swiftly forgotten. Nines struck Gavin in the chest. A show of raw, primitive brutality. Fist propelling into ribs that broke with sickening cracks against his knuckles.

The way his skin and bones yielded obediently to the impact, moulding to the shape of his hand, felt almost intimate. This was only exacerbated by the winded gasp which passed his lips as the man buckled over. 

Because it had always been this way, hadn't it? 

It had never been about love or appreciation or even the most meagre pursuit of shared satisfaction. It had always been about control, the desire to take , claiming exactly what they wanted from one another, and omitting anything else. 

Gavin tilted his head to the side, hawking a wad of spit to the floor below. The impact had caused some form of concealed damage, evident in the slither of blood curling its way through the puddle, catching the lights above.

What followed had not been part of the plan. 

Nines had intended to bring Gavin here in order to rectify mistakes. Beat the man to the point of submission, inflicting physical torment comparable to what his brother had been forced to endure one year prior. Leave him for dead, as he’d done to Connor.  

But as Gavin looked at him—blood streaking down his chin, eyes ablaze with provocation—it triggered another, more dormant instinct. Beyond the desire for revenge. 

Because the current arrangement was familiar, starkly resemblant to the warped closeness they had once shared. It was something Nines could only go so far to remove himself from, its heavy hand having been paramount in shaping his identity. Sadistic desire, ingrained as deeply into his psyche as the need to breathe, conditioned by almost a decade of ritual.

Nines had lost his composure, strands of hair tumbling loose from neatly gelled coils. They descended his face like tangled vines. He felt equally discordant, gripped by insanity that only the monster in front of him inspired.

He didn't think, couldn't think, as he lunged for Gavin a second time. This time, capturing his waist with the bruising grip of his thighs. Grabbing his chin, he wiped away the lingering crimson with his thumb and leaned close to growl a demand against the shell of his ear. 

"I said shut your fucking mouth.”

The response came in a broken wheeze, rumbled through a shattered chest. Barely intelligible, yet maintaining a pronounced degree of obstinance. “Make me.”

Nines took this as an invitation, falling prey as he sank deep into temptation.

The kiss was crushing—bruising—not allowing for any protest. The territorial hold on Gavin’s jaw had formed into an iron lock grip, ensuring he couldn't pull away. 

Nines wanted to rip him apart. Tear to ribbons the visage of the man who had come so close to taking everything.

With each movement, he sought to channel this hatred, poised on the tip of a tongue shoved forcefully down his throat. He wanted to show Gavin just how weak he was. Remind him of all the mercies granted up until now and how they formed no indication of power or influence.

Nines had spared him because he wanted to. He was in control, having granted the man an opportunity to escape on one basic stipulation that he couldn't show the decency

[cptjh-arts]

Artsy Summer Exchange

@klayr-de-gall hosted another event and wow I'm so nervous because I totally adore the artstyle of my giftee @vladlen4i! And finally I can share, I finished it on 21th May already. They asked for "some Tooth-Rotting Fluff for Reed900, or Connor, or Hank... maybe something sweet from their daily life/birthday present/date... really anything will be good. I just love dbh and wishing only bright days for those characters" and I hope this is tooth-rotting fluff enough! Hope you're happy and you like it and enjoy, dear @vladlen4i!

Escalated with light again, shading was a pain and I added too many unnecessary details again. Had to scale the size down as well, hope the quality is still good.

Please do not share without credit, no reuplaod or claiming as own art and no commercial use.

[bryans-g1asses]

Reed900 headcannons <3

warning: slight nsfw!!

reed900

Gavin would throw crumpled up papers at nines when they first started working together. Nines gave him nasty looks each time he threw a paper as Gavin smirked at him.

poor android.

after getting along and a couple of cheek kisses to tease a robot, I mean Gavin would. Then nines started to experience deviant behaviour, it was showing on his led after each kiss also. That’s what Gavin loved.

then they became a situationship, fooling around at a crime scene (gavin never taking his job seriously ever since nines) and gavin had a permanent marker and was behind nines as he was inspecting a homicide scene and got his tip toes to write on his back. Then he wrote “Gavin’s” next to the android tag on the back of his jacket to show him off?

Nines looked at gavin as he was started to get ready to leave, Nines felt sad and said something he thought he’d never say before. “Can I come with you?

“what?” gavin frowned his eyebrows in confusion.

poor nines, he was feeling attached to him, he gave him those blue puppy eyes he always fell for.

“fine.” Gavin mumbled, making sure nobody heard him. he fixed his hair up as they left

nines caught himself onto gavin, constantly by his side at his place.

“do androids eat?” Gavin asked Dumbly, Of course.

“No.” Nines said in the most sternly tone, then nines grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him closer then turned him around and grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss roughly. Gavin melts into that kiss.

Gavin pulled away and forced nines on his knees as he felt his erection growing against nines chest.

“do you know how to do this?” gavin grunted at the sight of nines blue eyes underneath him.

“oral? I should know how.” Then he helped Gavin unbuckle his pants then when his cock sprung out. Nines reached out and touched it softly and gave it a few lights strokes then when he was about to put his cock in his mouth, Gavin pushed his head away by accident, Not used to the cold sensation mouth.

“fuck! tincan your mouth is cold!” He whispered shouted while looking down at him with apologetic eyes for pushing him away. “M’sorry.”

[aydaptic]

I imagine that being a Gavin fan when the dbh fandom was in its early stages must have been exhausting. I've been scrolling through dbh blogs, just to catch up on what I've missed out on and occasionally I'll come across posts like "if you like Gavin you're [insert stupid insult here]" or "Gavin is the personification of evil and if you even watch a single scene with him in it without feeling hatred, then you're [insert another stupid insult here]"

Following you, I've realised that Gavin is honestly not a bad guy. Yeah, he's not the most positive/friendly guy in the world but that doesn't make him evil. The only time we've seen him in a bad light is when he's interacting with something he does not like ex. androids, hank (both of which he has valid reasons for not liking). When he's not with either of them, he's pretty alright. Even Neil has said that if you met Gavin in a bar or something, he, at the very least, would be polite to you.

I know it's been said before but people can dislike Gavin (everyone is entitled to disliking who they want) but looking back, I believe that the hatred he received was so unnecessary.

If any of those people could have just looked beyond "he hurt my fave/disliking him for moral points", they would have seen that too.

This is why I'm happy that reed900 became so popular. Not only because it showed that there were people who wanted to delve deeper into Gavin's character but it also created a huge headache for everyone who hated him.

As someone who has been a Gav fan since launch day -- May 25th, 2018 -- I can confirm that it was indeed exhausting. I admit I'm biased, though. It was worse for me for reasons I'll get into down below.

There's still a lot of undeserved vitriol towards him posted on the regular, but my having muted 90% of the fandom makes it not nearly as noticeable. Ofc I can't avoid them all bc the amount of shit he gets always slips through the net. His haters are that obsessed with him (...which is not only pathetic but hilarious as well.)

Several ppl have told me that I was the one who made them see the layers involved when it comes to Gav. Hearing that warms my heart. It makes me feel like I'm doing something useful in this fandom.

As for my personal bias, I've been told multiple times by multiple ppl that I remind them of Gav. It made me realize that's one of the main reasons why I defend the guy. If you don't like Gav, you wouldn't like me, so I -- in the beginning -- took the hatred for him personally. Thus it was extra exhausting to have negativity constantly aimed at me (in theory) as an individual.

I feel the same way he does. I'm pissed at Hank and wouldn't stay quiet knowing that he gets special treatment from Fowler. I dislike Con and would try to stop him in The Interrogation/Last Chance, Connor. I dislike AI. I wouldn't believe androids were alive. I'm terrified of losing my livelihood, etc. I could make a list with dozens of things he and I have in common (even the smallest/unusual things like being unable to wink with one eye bc I can't do that either, lol.)

I share your amusement on his haters having to deal with not only Gav's popularity, but also Reed900. I'd say that's karma.

[reedeemable]

Me: I don't love reed900 that much

Also me: *literally lights up and freaks out like a fangirl when new reed900 art is made*

[shaythey]

A short Reed900 blurb I wrote in my notes app lol

tw// panic attack

Gavin isn't fully convinced that nines can't read minds. sometimes he'll give Gavin this long calculated stare, like he's looking at his tangled whirlwind of thoughts and carefully unraveling them one by one. like he knows what Gavin thinks better than Gavin himself.

Gavin almost wishes nines would give him one of those stares now. his thoughts are as tangled as ever, and he's spent the past few minutes plucking at them uselessly.

Gavins been off all day, he knows he has-- one of those days where last night's nightmares fail to fade by morning-- and he knows Nines noticed. he feels too quiet, too gruff, too much. talking helps, Gavin knows, but his head feels heavy, rotten. his tongue and chest have turned to cement.

and nines, perceptive and patient as ever, hasn't pushed, just touched him gently and spoken carefully, which Gavin knows should make him annoyed, angry, but it feels a little bit like it's holding him together. so when they arrive at their apartment after work and Nines wordlessly leads them towards the bedroom, Gavin just leans into his touch.

now they're in bed, nines in sweats and Gavin in boxers, wearing each other's old t shirts. nines' head is resting over Gavin's heart. he's absentmindedly tracing patterns across the detective's hand,, up his forearm, down each finger. it feels as though they're waiting. waiting for Gavin to stitch himself together, or let himself fall apart. maybe Gavin could sleep if his lungs would stop being so stubborn.

they're silent. the only sounds are the shifting of sheets and synced breaths-- one fabricated, one real.

nines simulates breathing to keep his internal components cool, but can turn it off any time. he doesn't, which is good because it freaks Gavin out. freaks him out to see nines, with his naturally pale complexion, and his chest unmoving.

pale and still and unblinking.

pale unblinking unmoving in an alleyway.

stupid knees aching on the asphalt and shaking hands. he almost wishes there was blood, he knows what to do with blood, he's had countless first aid trainings but what the fuck is the protocol with androids who are always smirking and teasing but are so so still now-- his light thing is dim and Gavin can't breathe and--

--something is squeezing his hand.

Gavin tears open his eyes and glances down. the Android in his head is staring at nothing, not moving, not speaking, not breathing,, but here there's a voice and there's movement and Gavin can't seem to differentiate what is real and what this means and what the fuck he's supposed to do--

--something squeezes his hand again. rhythmically. it's annoying.

Gavin wrenches his eyes open again, forces himself to look. nines is staring but not blank and not reading his mind, just scanning Gavin's vitals. that's annoying too but the detective can't say so because his chest is tight, so tight he can't fucking breathe and he's choking on nothing--

"try again," says a voice that makes warmth trickle into Gavin's chest. "in and out."

nines is squeezing his hand rhythmically. in and out, Gavin knows this. he sucks in carefully and is rewarded with a soft, "that's it."

nines is here with him. it's his voice and his hand and Gavin feels like an idiot for forgetting. he blindly, clumsily threads a hand through nines' hair, still breathing too hard.

nines' hair was perfect that night in the alley. his face slack, eyes vacant, LED dim, but not a strand out of place. that version slumps tauntingly in front of him now. Gavin swallows painfully. his knees ache.

in another hazy reality, Gavin strokes through nines' dark locks. nines is laying, warm and heavy on his chest, puffing out a teasingly annoyed sigh. "that'll be hell to fix in the morning." there's a smirk in his voice.

he blinks through contrasting images and huffs out a weak laugh. Gavin feels heat behind his eyes. "y-youre," he chokes out, "you're okay, r-right?"

nines says nothing, just drags himself up Gavin's chest, nestling in the crook of the human's neck. his synthetic breaths puff against Gavin's skin; theyre even, deliberately so. Gavin strokes his hair, nines squeezes his hand, and they breathe together for a long time.

minutes or hours later, when Gavin's deep breaths are effortless and drowsy, nines whispers against his neck. "we're okay. we're both okay." and Gavin sleeps.

[sweeteatercat]

ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ, ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ

Chapter 16 is online now!

ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ - ᴀ ғɪɴᴀʟ ғᴀʀᴇᴡᴇʟʟ

So many last times. So many ways to say goodbye. It won't be long now. And yet Nines wishes this day would never end. He wants to stay in those beautiful, light-hearted memories forever. Beyond good and evil. Beyond all pain. Right here. Just the two of them.

Reed900 // Hurt&Comfort // Self-Harm // Suicide Attempt // Angst&Drama

[temporary-enthusiasm]

Writing Patterns

I was tagged by @glxyqst, @incomprehensible-phasmid and @sweeteatercat Thanks y'all 💜

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Hank squinted in the harsh fluorescent lights as he tried to make out the time on the clock on the wall across the room. how we begin, HankCon

Hank regretted his decision to quit drinking more and more as the date grew closer. bring me back again (when i’m lost in my head), HankCon

It had been years since Hank had been to any of the DPD Christmas parties. the significance of phoradendron leucarpum, HankCon

Hank stared at the number displayed on the screen of his phone for a long moment before answering it with a hesitant hello.  Lips of an Angel, HankCon

“I hate everything about you,” Connor muttered. turn me on with just a touch, HankCon

Connor lounged on the chair in Hank’s studio, watching as he cleaned up after his last client of the day.  you're the ink on my skin, HankCon

Chill seeped into their bones as they slowly woke up, disoriented and in pain, to find themself on a tree stump in the middle of the forest.  the kind of nightmare that you get used to, HankCon

Connor’s stasis had ended at precisely six in the morning, as it always did. Wake Up, Lieutenant, HankCon

The soft swish and clink of a coin as it was deftly spun between nimble fingers filled the otherwise silent elevator. Playing for Keeps, HankCon

“What is that?” Nines asked as their cool blue eyes settled on the paper cup that Gavin held in his hand.  Indulgences and Interrogations, Reed900

I'm a bit late to this and don't know who hasn't been tagged, so if you haven't done this yet and want to consider yourself tagged <3

[spirits-and-sluts]

NoTP, do you have any?

PLENTY.

I've been fully done with Gavin Reed for ages now, there was a light phase where I was cool with his fandom and stuff, but I can't stand his inclusion in just about anything anymore, so Kamski and Gavin, Connor and Gavin, Hank and Gavin, the RK900 and Gavin, I've got the man himself blocked, but my favorite one to hate is Convin. I'm just, very aware that reed900's rise to fame was born out of an interest in the Hankcon ship dynamic so it's hard not to understand Gavin as a cheap, unpleasant Hank knockoff, and shipping him with Connor, especially romantically more than sexually, just makes my skin crawl. I just don't like it.

I've got it blocked.

Honestly now that I think about it, that's probably why I don't like 60/Allen either. I love a good pair the spares situation in a cast but it still, just feels like some kind of Hankcon knockoff. A lot of 60 or Gavin content ends up just being really 'haha, it's fun and cool because they're mean and that's sexy" without dimension... But for some reason I hate it more if more dimension is added 🤣

idk, I've become quite the hater the longer I've hung around here, I think I'm just done trying to flesh out the world and I just wanna focus on the characters I actually like, of which there are few. So I don't like much of the Hankcon world-building ships, yanno, all the stuff going on with all the other cops at the precinct, with Fowler and whoever else, I don't really care about these cops, I like my little guys and that's that.