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alphawave-writes · 3 months ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five of your other fave writers. Spread the self-love! ;)c

Oooh, I’m all about the self love, and all about telling people what I’ve written LOL And to be honest there’s no story of mine that I hate because I think there is a kernel of something fun or interesting in everything I write. Only hard part is figuring out which are my TOP 5.

Without further ado, in chronological order but no particular ranking, here’s the list

A Marriage in the Stars (Liu Shan x Xingcai | Dynasty Warriors)

The one that started it all. A product of love and spite, I went from a Liu Shan RP blog to writing 200K words of a complex political slowburn love story comparable to C dramas of the time. Should it be 200K? Definitely not. My best work? Absolutely not, it’s pretty clear it’s my first fanfic, but I love it dearly as my starting point, and I love Liu Shan as a character. If I can convince anyone of his romance with his bodyguard, then I’ve done my job. I think the latter half is where it really starts to shine. Maybe one day I’d revisit this one.

DPD (Gavin Reed x Reed900 | Detroit:Become Human)

Confession: never actually played the video game, so I did not give you-know-who money. But to the fic itself, this was my first attempt at a detective story, but with a comedic twist along the lines of Brooklyn 99 and Police Squad/Naked Gun, and of course with a bit of romance sprinkled in and an overarching threat to deal with. Gavin Reed and RK900 (named Richard later in the fic) have to solve three different cases under a strict deadline, each with different personal and political stakes. They’re both competent, but they’re also emotionally immature, and I do think it has funny moments. I’m proud I could pull off a detective mystery. Also, it’s my most popular fic by a WIDE margin.

Evil actions and good intentions (Sigma x Harold Winston/Sigrold | Overwatch)

The start of my old man yaoi arc, and a ship I’m known for till this day. Harold Winston is canonically (or is heavily implied to be) deceased, but what if he survived, got his own powers at a terrible cost, and became a hero (and also got back together with his old flame Sigma)? That’s what happens in this fic. To this day I’m obsessed with Harold Winston and if there are traces of him in every single other ship I make, that’s totally a coincidence (I say, like a liar). It might have started a crackship, but I made friends and a small community around Sigrold, and I think the story still holds up. Also, did I mention I love Harold Winston? Did I mention I completely revamped him and changed his appearance and made an entirely different incarnation in my head that I love? Did I mention that?

Kill your Darlings (Thomas Zane x Casper Darling/Zaneling | Alan Wake 2/Control/Remedy Connected Universe)

Warning: NSFW

The premise sounds simple enough. After that scene in AW2, Tom Zane and Dr Casper Darling work together to get out of the Dark Place. There’s a few other fics with the same premise, but did those ones write said 100K words of said fic within 3 months? I don’t think so. I quite like this one for the stakes and action, and especially what it sets up for the rest of the fics in the series. Slight spoiler: they succeed and get out of the Dark Place, but there is a cost to everything, and once they’re out, they have numerous adventures waiting for them. I love Zaneling, I love how they can be sweet and toxic on both sides, and I genuinely hope they stay together in the games (whether that’s a good thing for humanity or not, will have to wait and see, but I enjoy them together in whatever fashion) ((I need more Zaneling argh!!!))

Resurrection Tango (Ahti x Ash Sr/Oldest House | Alan Wake 2/Control/Remedy Connected Universe)

UPDATING EVERY TWO WEEKS OR SO

Recency bias? Absolutely, but c’mon. This is an adventure fic following Ahti and the Oldest House fighting against the Clog so they can finally break the FBC’s lockdown. Yes, Ahti is in a serious romantic (and more) relationship with a literal building, but that building used to be a former Director of the FBC who died and became the building, except he’s only part of the building. If people thought the amount of backstory I came up with for Harold Winston was ridiculous, I can only imagine how I must look like saying “I ship Ahti with a building”.

Jokes aside, I put a lot of effort into this fic, probably my most technically demanding story yet. This is a split POV story between Ahti and Ash Sr AKA the Oldest House, so it is just as much an adventure of the present as it is a character study of Ahti and Ash Sr, the circumstances behind Ash Sr becoming the Oldest House, and perhaps even an origin story for several characters in Control. Having to set up Ash Sr, the Clog, AND learn Finnish for Ahti’s Ahti-isms? I even CODED TRANSLATIONS INTO THE FIC. CODING! Please read it, there’s so many ideas I put in here. And for the Ahti lovers, Ahti is a main character and he damn well acts it

#I have written so many different fics over the ages #but one thing in common is that I rarely go for popular ships #It’s always stuff that I can play around with and get to explore the background of at least one character #there may be certain similarities superficially between certain characters #(glances at Harold Winston and Kim Kitsuragi and Zhao Tianyou and Casper Darling and and and)#OK I might have a thing for quirky old men #can’t say I’m an old man yaoi enthusiast without shipping someone that is centuries old huh

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ao3feed-gav900 · 1 year ago

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Panic

https://ift.tt/Q0jsYfU by strawb3rry_v0dka “He’s a mess, his usually perfect hair is all out of place with strands sticking out in weird directions, like he’d been pulling on it. His clothes too— if it were anyone else Gavin wouldn’t see anything wrong with them, but Nines was different. He wouldn’t be caught dead without ironed slacks and a tucked in button up, the pretentious little shit. But here he was, an untucked tee with wrinkled jeans, and Gavin knew something was wrong. There was also the wide-eyed, deer in the headlights look he wore and his harsh, sporadically blinking red LED that maybe clued Gavin in a bit more than everything else.” Nines has a panic attack. Gavin helps him through it, even if he’d much rather be sleeping. Words: 5706, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Upgraded Connor | RK900, Gavin Reed, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed Additional Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Relationship, Connors only mentioned briefly he ain’t here fr, Identity Issues, Nines doesn’t know who he is and he’s stressed, Insomnia, Enemies to Friends, kinda their relationship is weird, reed900

#AO3feed #dbh #reed900 #gavin reed #rk900

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gavinisqueer · 2 years ago

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A new fic is up on ao3!

Tags and warnings: Reed900, SFW. Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, implied violence.

Summary:

Why did I have to be so stupid, he thought, remembering how this had all come to be. Meeting Nines, the dates, the murders that had gone on right under his nose. I’m a detective, for god’s sake. If only he hadn’t let his love for the man get to him, he might not be here now.

This fic was written for the Deviant tier on tumblr, meaning it was prompted by one of my lovely patrons.

#my writing #dbh #detroit: become human #dbh fanfic #dbh fanfiction

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ao3feed-hannor · 2 years ago

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Lucky

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/49076158 by bonicabean That smile. In Hank’s first memories of Connor, the idea of his “smile” was stiff and disconcerting. Almost like a customer service smile, but even those had malice and anger behind them at the very least. But that morning outside of Chicken Feed, where Hank stood sleep deprived and worried, Connor had come back to tell the tale, and Hank captured Connor in the tightest hug his tired muscles could muster. That was the first time Hank saw Connor give a real smile. Not one of unbridled joy—It was filled with uncertainty and confusion, but those emotions were a good look on him compared to the complete numbness of before. OR its a slow day for the detectives at the dpd and hank is left to daydream about the life he has now :) Words: 1292, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor Additional Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Daydreaming, Awkward Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, Hank Anderson and Connor Live Together, connor is super normal about hank's facial hair, You gotta believe me, hank is a sap, background reed900 if you squint, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, its brief though dw read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/49076158

#IFTTT #Hannor #Hankcon #AO3feed #Detroit Become Human

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alicetallula · 5 years ago

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Octopunk Advent - December 2020 - Day 4 : UGLY SWEATERS + Day 8 : OFFICE PARTY - 09.12.2020

It was a pleasure to participate to the Octopunk Advent and to work on prompts based on the universe of the movies - or the book Paradisa by Michelle Iannantuono - of @octopunkmedia

Day 1 : MISTLETOE / Day 2 : SLEIGH RIDES / Day 3 : DECORATING / Day 6 : SNOWBALLS / Day 7 : NUTCRACKER / Day 9 : FIREPLACES / Day 10 : CANDLES / Day 12 : FAMILY / Day 13 : CANDY CANE / Day 5 : GINGERBREAD + Day 14 : BAKING / Day 11 : SILENT NIGHT + Day 15 : CAROLING / Day 16 : GIFTS / Day 17 : ICE SKATING / Day 18 : HOT COCOA / Day 19 : EGGNOG / Day 20 : NEW YEAR'S / Day 21 : SOLSTICE / Day 22 : SNOWMEN / Day 23 : MALL SANTA / Day 24 : SCROOGE

Day 4 : UGLY SWEATERS + Day 8 : OFFICE PARTY - 09.12.2020

I just immediately thought of Hank and Gavin together during a DPD Christmas Party, complaining about it (they were dragged to it by Connor and Nines).

(Also isn't it badass to imagine our dear Christopher Trindade acting in a scene with Clancy Brown ?!)

Done using ink pens, graphite pencils and acrylic paint pens

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

#octopunk advent #detroit become human #detroit evolution #gavin reed #hank anderson #implied reed900 #implied hankcon #office christmas party #fanart #tallula03's art

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peskellence · 11 months ago

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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

#dbh #detroit become human #reed900 #dbh nines #dbh gavin #dbh rk900 #dbh fanfiction #dbh fanfic #dbh connor #gavin reed x rk900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fic

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pupmkincake2000 · 2 months ago

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Yet you do ship stereotypical hot/skinny/young gay men, because by that point, you're just using them as eye-candy and fetishizing them, don't you?

I have my own reasons

So why you want hankcon shippers to have reasons to ship? I mean, the ships you stan for are full of cliches and stereotypes too, why are you surprised hankcon has those too and why should it be something used against hankcon? You literally ship stereotypical guy x guy ships, no? People have kinks, so do you. Not to mention HankCon is also the whole enemies to lovers thing and that's not harmful to the gay community in any way either. Hell, hankcon is not harmfull at all! It is the most harmless ship ever! There's no age gap, becaus one of them is not even human. Would you no longer feel weird about it if Connor had been designed to look like he was 50? Same personality, same everything, but he has wrinkles and gray hair?

I just wish more Hankcon shippers would present actual, sound reasons for them to be a couple,

I find it quite ironic that you insist on requiring sound, meaningful reasons to ship Hank and Connor, when you yourself ship characters that are not even canon to begin with. The Hank/Connor dynamic in the game was never portrayed as anything more than a deep friendship, with a strong bond built on mutual respect and understanding. Yet, you expect Hankcon shippers to justify their ship when, in contrast, ships like Reed900 and others that are purely fanon-based (with zero in-game support) are accepted without question.

It feels like there is a catch here. Shipping Hank and Connor, given their complex dynamic and emotional depth, doesn’t need to rely on simple tropes like age gap or “daddy kink” as you mentioned. These characters have a foundation built on partnership and trust, something much more substantial.

Meanwhile, shipping characters like Gavin and Nines involves zero canon foundation, yet it's somehow accepted. How can you criticize Hankcon shippers for needing reasons when you're happy to ship something that isn't even remotely implied or hinted at in the game? It’s confusing, to say the least. It seems like a biased approach, and frankly, it feels like an attempt to silence any ship that doesn’t fit your view of what’s “acceptable” in the fandom.

If we’re going to talk about consistency, shouldn’t you be advocating for actual in-canon dynamics first? Hank and Connor did have meaningful moments in the game—moments that made the fandom love them as characters. And if you're going to criticize Hank and Connor’s connection, shouldn’t you be questioning the logic of you own ships?

I mean, just enjoy your thing and let us be. Period.

i just watched a video compiling a few hank & connor father/son moments and there was an amusing amount of people in the comments trying so desperately to refute the found family dynamic in the way of shipping them together and i just had to take a moment to think about what upside down opposite day dimension i landed in

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dumbwaystodeviate · 6 years ago

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Richard and Gavin baking cupcakes. Gavin keeps making tiny dicks and other explicit stuff out of the icing and richard is just like 🙄 and deviates to beat his ass

This is where people learn we should not be trusted with prompts because we will twist them as fancy takes...

The Android Rehabilitation and Reintegration Program was one lauded for its success. It revolved around androids who had been manipulated by CyberLife or enslaved to their cause against deviants being given a gentle second start in life. Usually, the androids were placed with someone they knew or trusted, most androids had that luxury. But not Perkins. His very existence as an android had been a secret. Once it had been revealed, he had been stripped of his role with the FBI and ordered into the ARRP. However, nobody had wanted to work with him and he couldn’t be put with a foster family, he knew too much.

Most of the DPD and SWAT had already been assigned their own android to care for. Connor had gone to Hank, Sixty with Allen. Nines was awakened a deviant so didn’t need to be part of the program. The only person left for Perkins to be assigned to was Gavin. After minimal amounts of bristling, Gavin sighed.

“Alright, come on then, Richard.”

“That’s Special Agent Perkins to you,” Perkins had sneered automatically but Gavin just shook his head with a grin.

“Nope, Richard, or Dick if you’d prefer. But while we’re doing this ARRP, I am using the name you were given.” Gavin sounded altogether far too cheery for the situation.

At least, after a few more arguments, Gavin had relented to agreed to call him Perkins. It had felt more natural than Richard even if that was his name. Once that was out of the way, he and Gavin actually go on quite well. While Perkins couldn’t offer much help as he had been designed to appear as human as possible, he could still help on some cases. Not that Nines didn’t give him evil glares and the odd shock when they touched. Someone, Perkins concluded, was possessive and jealous.

Shenanigans ensued. Gavin took Perkins to various events outside of work. They went to hockey matches where Gavin yelled himself hoarse while Perkins listlessly waved a flag. Other times, they went grocery shopping and Gavin made him carry the basket. Usually, the first three items in the basket were lube, a cucumber and the latest car magazine.

Still, Perkins didn’t deviate. It wasn’t for lack of trying either. But the mythical red wall was hidden from him. Slowly, he began to worry that he was broken. Even Nines, the most advanced android had been able to deviate, yet he hadn’t. Yet Gavin didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it looked like he was having a great time doing more and more ridiculous things in the name of ARRP.

The final straw was making cupcakes. Mixing the dough, evenly dividing it between papers and baking were all straightforward tasks. It was decorating that caused trouble. In theory, the cupcakes were for trick or treaters in the area. In the spirit of Halloween, Perkins was using icing to draw bats, spiderwebs and vampire teeth on them. Next to him, Gavin chortled away as he worked, tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

One look had Perkins firmly going “no” and pulling Gavin’s cupcake away from the pile ready to go out. It had been decorated with an anatomically incorrect penis. Shrugging, Gavin had peeled the paper off and shoved the whole cupcake in his mouth, looking supremely pleased with himself.

The next cupcake was no better. It also ended up with a penis on it and them crammed into Gavin’s mouth.

“At least respect anatomy,” Perkins snapped. He regretted it minutes later when a penis of porn star proportions was drawn onto a cupcake and Gavin was reaching for the next one.

“I said no,” Perkins growled and reached for the rolling pin they never actually used. “Step away from the icing Gavin.”

He should have expected the cheeky tongue to be stuck out at him. It was the signal of the end, Perkins should have known. Instead, he stepped forward, through the invisible barrier and advanced towards Gavin. They were both laughing as Perkins chased him through the house, threats of telling Nines exactly what Gavin was up to making the laughter even more prominent.

It was only when Gavin was cornered, back in the kitchen, that they realised that there was something different about the scene. Perkins was laughing, a wide, genuine smile on his lips. The ARRP had done it again.

#dbh perkins #dbh gavin #dbh nines #android perkins #dumb ways to deviate #implied reed900 #prompt fill #leader of the rebellion

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